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Chapter Text

The Hogwarts hospital wing was quiet; it was the middle of a school day in early June, about two weeks after the conclusion of the tournament, and the only sound was the gentle hum of the muggle ventilator hooked to the small body of Harry Potter lying in one of the beds that, in contrast to the plain, sterile appearance of the others, was decorated with red and gold curtains, a warm patchwork quilt, and a wall decorated with quidditch posters and a shelf full of comics, magically enchanted to hold an entire library’s worth of reading material.  The shelf had been a gift from the teen’s friends, not that he’d had time to really explore it yet.  Draped around the headboard was a large green snake the size of a boa, and on the pillow next to Harry’s head, an obsidian black adder lay tightly coiled, her nose worriedly brushing her master’s face. He’d spent most of the last two weeks asleep or only half-aware of his surroundings, exhausted, injured, and ill. Beside him sat his therapist, Sarah, trying and failing to focus on her novel as her dark eyes kept being pulled back to his wan, sleeping face.  

The silence was broken around three o’clock, when Professor Severus Snape finished teaching his last class of the day and his soft footfalls echoed a determined path to the bedside.  “How is he?” he asked.

“Not much difference,” she replied.  “Some coughing and groaning in his sleep; he came awake enough for me to get a few bites of solid food into him, but other than that he’s just been resting.”  

“Good, he needs it,” Severus responded, brushing Harry’s sweaty curls off his forehead with a tenderness very few would associate with him.  “As if he didn’t have enough to deal with before, he comes back with a broken leg and nerves on fire from the cruciatus curse. It’s rather a miracle we didn’t lose him that night.”  He sighed and tucked behind his ear a lock of his own lank hair, greasy from leaning over students’ cauldrons day in and day out.

“Poppy says he should be well enough to travel by early July,” Sarah told him.  “We can go see the immune specialists and I can start helping him work through everything that’s happened this year.”

“Ah, lovely- another summer of listening to Narcissa complain about how insufferable Draco is when Harry’s not around,” Severus groaned, his snark rather less en point than usual.  His heart just wasn’t in it.

“Actually, his moms talked to me about that,” Sarah told her friend.  “They think it would be beneficial for all of Harry’s friends to receive some counseling- the past term has been rather stressful for them all.  Plus, Harry could use the aid of his entire support network. In addition to working through the emotional trauma, it’s likely that he may have to stay overnight in hospital.  With the state of his immune system, there may be some invasive testing required to come up with a treatment plan.”

“Of course it will,” Severus rolled his eyes.  “The universe has a vendetta out on this child, apparently.”

“I wish I could disagree with you,” the mind healer said, trying to wrestle her textured curls into a scrunchie.  “But unfortunately, it’s not just the universe. Seen the Prophet lately?”

“There are a number of the most recent editions burning in my fireplace,” Severus responded.  “Honestly- they’re running a smear campaign against children !”

“Of course they are; you haven’t updated your libel laws since the fucking middle ages,” Sarah ranted.  “And it’s not just the children either. The one time that old fool boss of yours is actually telling the unvarnished truth is of course the one time that the ministry isn’t eating out of his hand.”

“At least you don’t have to deal with this insanity all the time,” Severus retorted.  “Your country may be a nightmare to try to navigate, but at least you have a decent Child Protection Agency in place in MACUSA.”

“Actually, I will have to deal with this all the time,” Sarah said.  “I’ve decided to leave New York and set up my practice in Hogsmeade.”

The other man nearly dropped a potion he’d been uncorking to put in Harry’s IV line.  “You’re going to what ?!”

“I’m going to move here,” Sarah said.  “My dads are retired and they spend most of their time travelling anyway, and my favourite patient lives in Britain.  There’s a war starting, and people are going to need counselling, whether or not they’re prepared to acknowledge it.  I’m sick of the agency I work for- only high-income clientele can even afford it, but it’s padded my savings account, so now I have the resources to do something else.  There’s nothing holding me to New York anymore.”

“This is dangerous, you know, this plan of yours.  You’re a Muggle-raised American stepping into an ethnocentric community at the start of a war.”

“I have a degree in magical healing and a PhD in muggle psychology; don’t insult my intelligence by telling me what I already know,” she told him.  “I’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Well, as long as you’re aware you’re stepping into a landmine, I cannot say I object to such a capable fellow sufferer.  There are dark times ahead.”

Sarah looked at him impassively.  “And there are dark times behind. The human experience is just vacillating experiences of suffering and joy.  We will survive this just as our ancestors survived everything that came before. I’m not going to run away when I’m needed.”

“Do they teach you that in healer training?”

“Life taught me that all on its own, thank you very much.  You know Severus, one day you’re going to have to stop running away from your own past.  You can’t just pour your entire being into taking care of Harry and expect that your own pain will never catch up to you.  And you’re about to tell me to shut up,” she cut him off, correctly reading his expression, “so I’m just going to say that when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“Your rationality can be rather infuriating, you know,” Sev grumbled.

“Yes, well, it is often rather infuriating when the other person is right.”

Severus was saved from responding when Harry groaned and slowly stirred to awareness.

“What do you need?” he asked the teen immediately.  Harry pulled weakly at the mask.

“That has to stay on, you know that.  You’re still having trouble breathing on your own.”

Harry groaned softly but pointed to the cast on his leg- even though Poppy had healed the fracture, his bones were still weak from the malnutrition caused by the Dursleys, and the fracture had been rather serious even before he had to put weight on it during the trying events of the graveyard, so Poppy had wrapped it in a cast to make sure it wouldn’t be reinjured.  

“Yes, I know it’s itchy, but it’ll come off next week if you just leave it be so it can heal properly,” Severus scolded.  “You shouldn’t be moving anyway; the cruciatus curse can cause significant nerve damage, so you need to stay as still as possible.”

Harry pouted as Nagini bumped his cheek gently with her nose, offering moral support.  Du hissed at the other snake- the dragon was bad enough, but now there was a second snake in Harry’s life, and damn if she wasn’t the only one to get to give nose bumps.

“Calm yourssself, sssssnipet,” the larger snake responded, rolling her eyes.  “Little hatchling hassss enough affection for the whole nesssst.” Harry giggled before he gasped sharply, and a sharp coughing fit seized him as he grabbed at his side.  Sarah helped him gently upright as Sev patted his back as firmly as he dared so as to loosen the congestion without causing more pain. He rasped as the coughs racking his entire body eventually slowed, and Sarah filled a glass on the bedside table with an augmenti charm.  Severus removed the oxygen mask long enough to hold the glass to Harry’s chapped lips, and he tried to tip the glass further up as he drank eagerly.

“Slow down, it’s not going anywhere,” the man warned him.  “You’re going to choke if you keep gulping it like one of Maxime’s Abraxi.”  The teen reluctantly took smaller sips until the glass was gone.

“Do you need a potion for your throat, kiddo?” Sarah asked, and Harry nodded as Severus replaced the mask.  Sarah emptied another phial into the IV line, and Harry’s face relaxed slightly as some of the pain eased a little.  He jabbed a thumb towards the picture of him and Draco on the bedside table with a pleading look on his face.

“If you take a nap, he can come visit you after dinner, okay?  But you have to rest first.” Harry sighed but closed his eyes as Severus pulled the quilt up above his shoulders and tucked it more closely around him.  

[Kreacher has discovered the muggle invention they call a dart gun and is enjoying using the Dursleys as target practice.]

Harry was only allowed one non-medical professional visitor at a time, and they had to shower first and change into clean robes as soon as they entered the hospital wing.  All of his friends desperately wanted to visit him, but it had been mostly Minerva and Draco sitting by his bedside. Even though Ron and Draco were often having playful arguments, even Harry’s best friend was worried about the blonde, who spent most meals staring listlessly at his plate.  Pansy worried that if he kept this up, Harry wouldn’t be the only one on nutrient potions.

“C’mon ferret, you gotta eat.”  Draco had earned the nickname when he’d accidentally stepped into a hallway fight between two angry seventh years back in March and been subject to human to animal transfiguration.  Normally the nickname made them all roar with laughter as Draco whacked the offending party on the arm, but now he just shrugged apathetically.

“Not hungry.”  He poked at his green beans with a morose expression.

“Draco, we’re all worried, but Harry’s gonna be fine,” Pansy told him.  “Sevvy said he’ll be out by early July, and then we’re all gonna go have a fun time in New York.  But you’ve got dark circles under your eyes and I haven’t seen you take more than three bites of food at a time for the past week.  And if you get sick, you won’t be allowed to even visit Harry! Is that what you want?” The blonde sighed but shoved a green bean into his mouth with a disgruntled look on his face.

“He just looked so small in that bed,” he lamented, sniffling a bit and angrily swiping at his eyes.  Pansy bit back the urge to say that she wouldn’t know, what with Draco taking up almost all the visitation time; she didn’t want to make things worse for her friend just because she too was worried.  The group dynamic just wasn’t the same without Harry.

Up at the head table, Filius was having a similar conversation with Minerva (Severus, with the privilege of being involved in Harry’s care and thus allowed to eat his meals at the teenager’s bedside, was noticeably absent from his usual seat).

“You know if he sees you looking like you haven’t slept or eaten, it’s going to make him worry about you,” the head of Ravenclaw pointed out in his squeaky voice.  “And what good does that do anyone?”

“You’re right, of course, damn you,” Minnie grumbled as swallowed a mouthful of roast without really tasting it.  

“And for goodness sake, write your final,” Filius continued, drawing on some of the stern visage that made him such an intimidating dueler, back in the day.  “It’s unlike you to put it off until the last minute, even if you are a Gryffindor.”

[Harry wakes up in the middle of the night.  Unable to go back to sleep due to the discomfort of his illness, he wiggles his toes in his cast, seeing if the stabbing pain in his nerve endings has lessened any.]

“Wormtail, where is my soup?!” Voldemort wheezed from his perch in a dusty old armchair in the abandoned Riddle manor, wrapped in a fuzzy dressing gown under a pile of blankets.  He was beginning to realise the flaw in his glorious revenge plan, as Harry Potter apparently had the wizarding world’s worst immune system.  Poetic justice be damned, he regret not taking blood from one of his many lower-profile but healthy enemies.

“Coming, master!” his useless servant called, ladling some broth from the dented copper pot on the old gas stove into a chipped china bowl with his new silver hand.  He carried it nervously to the pale, feverish man-thing in the chair, and long fingers dipped the spoon into the… soup-like concoction before putting it in his mouth.  

“This soup is terrible!” the sniffling derp lord complained, fanning his face.  “And I’b burnt my tongue. Why dibn’t you tell me it bas so hot?” Pettigrew didn’t dare mention that he thought that would be implied.

“Wipe my nose!” Voldemort ordered his servant, who pulled out a flowered hanky (the only kind in the old linens closet) to wipe the ‘fearsome dark lord’s” drippy, very-much-not-an-actual-nose.  Of course, ever since Harry Potter insulted his lack of said body part, Voldemort would hear no comment on his noselessness- mentioning it was a good way to get a crucio, Wormtail had discovered.  

“Now read to me,” the derp lord ordered.  “I’b bored.” Wormtail pulled out Voldemort’s modified copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard , in which the witches never made it to the fountain of fair fortune but instead brutally murdered the muggle knight before dying horrible deaths themselves and the warlock lived forever, his hairy heart the key to ultimate immortality.  He was just finishing the part where the hopping pot had been blasted into a million pieces of pewter before the warlock’s son killed the entire town of muggles when he noticed that his master had drifted off to sleep, snoring loudly due to congestion.  Some days Wormtail really regretted his life choices.  

Chapter Text

Harry gradually got better until he was allowed off the ventilator, the cast came off, and the stabbing pain from the cruciatus lessened until it was just an uncomfortable twinge when he moved too quickly.  Poppy loved the child dearly, but by July 7, the day she finally deemed him well enough to leave (provided he took it easy for the next few weeks), she was quite glad to be freed of his incessant requests to be allowed to do his summer homework, see his friends, get out of bed, and just his general complaints of boredom.

“Alright Harry,” she said, giving him one-last quick check-up.  “You still need to be careful- no flying for a while, and you still have to work on putting on weight, because you’re still three pounds lighter than you were before all this madness started, but you may go.  Please try to stay away for a little while this time, alright dear?”

“ I’m not the one who insists that I be held hostage here all the time,” he protested.

“Cheeky child,” she scolded, but the effect was somewhat nullified when she placed a kiss on his messy curls as he practically bounced in the excitement of his new-found freedom.  “Now go have fun- and no running !” she called as he bolted away, throwing a hasty “love you, bye!” over his shoulder as he completely ignored her instruction to slow down.  She shook her head fondly- this child was going to be the death of her.

Harry did have to slow down after he reached the end of the hallway, as he ran out of breath.  But then he remembered he could apparate, so he sent gleeful thanks to Kreacher as he popped into the Gryffindor common room.  It was mostly empty, except for his friends, who were staying there in preparation for their trip to New York (the parents had the Hufflepuff common room, and consequently had been wandering about rather stoned a lot of the time.  There were quite a few older students who would return the next year to find their supplies had dwindled drastically).

“Guess who!” Harry cheered, throwing his arms around his boyfriend.

“HARRY!” Draco cried gleefully, turning around and pulling Harry onto his lap as they finally kissed for the first time in weeks.  Draco blushed brilliantly as Harry put his hands on the side of his face and pressed his body even closer as the kiss deepened, slow and sweet.  By the time they both broke apart to catch their breath, their foreheads touching softly, everyone was looking at them and wolf-whistling.

“Maybe we should start calling you two Blaise- that was some PDA,” Pansy teased.  Draco blushed again, but Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

“Blaise would go right to ripping their clothes off,” he retorted.  “Besides, like you can talk- you’re like the middle part of a girl sandwich everytime we turn around.”

“The middle part of a girl sandwich? Really ?” Blaise snorted.

“Hey, I can’t always be brilliantly sassy.  Then you all would just feel bad about yourselves.”

“Did you leave or did Pomphrey just kick you out for being annoying?” Ginny mocked him gently, fiddling with a slinky.  

“I really missed you guys,” Harry said.  “This is nice.”

“Aww, now you’re just being sappy,” Seamus rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Would a little sappiness now and then really be so bad?” Dean asked his boyfriend.  

“Hey- I tried to make you muffins the other day!”

“And nearly burned down the Malfoy’s kitchen.  It’s a good thing Dobby’s firefighter costume is actually flame-retardant.”  

“Boys, please,” Pansy interjected.  “We have a flight to NYC leaving in the morning, and I cannot listen to you two argue the entire way there.”

“We’re taking a plane?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said.  “We figured that after everything that happened, you wouldn’t actually want to take a portkey- we know Ced doesn’t.  And Pansy’s parents have been really into muggle stuff ever since they met my parents, so they actually just bought a private jet.  Don’t worry though,” she said, seeing Draco’s worried expression. “They won’t be flying it.”

“Good,” the blonde said.  “Because their experience with the ATV- it was a lawn ornament massacre !”

“Poor Buddha- he didn’t deserve tyre tracks desecrating his severed head,” Pansy lamented, before looking towards the ceiling.  “Namaste, old friend.”

“Isn’t that Hinduism?” Susan asked.

The Slytherin shrugged.  “I don’t know; ask Padma or Parvati.  My experience with Indian religion doesn’t extend much further than listening to Nirvana on my walkman.”  

Blaise, meanwhile, had started flipping through the channels on the telly set.

“Free Villy again ?” Viktor asked, arm around Ron.  “I know zat you like ze double entendre, but seriously, zhere are ozer zhings on.”

“So you can say double entendre but not the letter W?” Blaise retaliated, leaving the movie on.  Ron, unable to use his wand during the summer, threw it at the other boy instead.

“Speak Bulgarian, Blaise.  Go on…”

The other boy rolled his eyes at him.  “Relax, Weasel; I have no intentions of insulting your boyfriend’s honour.”  

“Good,” Ron said.  “Because I don’t wanna have to challenge you to a pool-noodle duel to the death.”  

“If you’re not using real swords, what’s the actual point of a muggle duel?” This, predictably, came from Pansy.  Harry threw an affectionate arm around her shoulder.

“Hogwarts just wouldn’t be the same without your frightening love of violence,” he mused fondly.  Pansy platonically kissed his forehead.

“And it wouldn’t be the same without your adorable kitten paws ,” she cooed.  Harry shot a wandless tickling hex at her.

[Du and Nagini have called a temporary truce to sneak into the cargo hold of the plane; customs and immigration laws be damned, they are not going to let their master cross the ocean without their protection.]

“Hey, hey!” Harry giggled as they all mounted the steps of the private jet the next morning.  “Uncle Sev- it’s Snapes on a Plane!”

The professor rolled his eyes at him.  “Grammatically, I am only one Snape on a plane, but I appreciate your juvenile attempt at humour.”

“Well, you’ll just have to get married so my joke works,” Harry told him.  Severus somehow managed to choke on nothing.

“What’s that, now?” he asked, wheezing.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” Harry said.  “I know you’re just a solitary dungeon bat who’s incapable of love,” he continued cheekily.  

“Yes, that’s right,” Severus replied, deadpan.  But the effect was ruined when he affectionately ruffled Harry’s hair.

“Hey!” Draco said to the professor, indignantly.  “I spent an hour trying to make Harry look presentable this morning, and you’ve just ruined what little progress I made.”

“Sit down and put on your seatbelts, all of you little monsters.  We’re about to takeoff,” Severus told them.  They’d hired a muggleborn charter pilot; she was hard to find, but it was easier than it would have been to obliviate a muggle operating heavy machinery if one of the children (Seamus) accidentally did something magical (like make something explode).

Snacks were distributed as all the students settled down into their comfortable seats and pulled out books or put in headphones.  Harry pulled out a ballpoint pen and parchment for his potions’ homework (Poppy hadn’t allowed him to get a headstart on any of his homework, and he’d normally started by this point in the summer, especially because he absolutely revelled in being able to do his summer assignments out in the open instead of hiding under his sheets in the middle of the night as he ignored the pain from recent beatings).

“Hold me closer tiny dancer,” Harry sang along to the Elton John record on his walkman (a get well gift from Minnie).  He thought he was quietly humming under his breath, but apparently he was being louder than he thought he was as he realised all his friends were looking at him.

“Damn Harry, that was fucking beautiful!” Pansy exclaimed, discreetly dabbing her eyes.  “I didn’t know you could sing at all.”

“Oh, I can?” Harry asked, cocking his head.

“ What do you mean, ‘oh I can? !” Draco squealed, looking at Harry with stars in his eyes.  “You’re amazing!” Harry blushed.

“I never really sang in front of people before, so I didn’t know if I was good or not.  It was mainly something I did while I was doing my chores when nobody was around.”

“It really is quite lovely,” Minnie agreed, smiling at her son.  Severus was looking at Harry with a strange expression on his face.  While he had long since ceased seeing Harry as anyone other than his own person, he could definitely see parts of Lily in him sometimes.  He had her rich tenor voice, the one she used to sing to him with as she stroked his hair on the Hogwarts Express when they were young, calming him down after an emotionally exhausting summer with his abusive father.  He cursed his stinging eyes, excusing himself to the bathroom at the back of the plane to collect himself. Sarah watched him knowingly; he’d been suppressing his emotions since he was a teenager, and when it’s been that long since someone has allowed themselves to feel something, opening the gates a little eventually leads to a flood.

[Harry spends the next two hours fielding song requests from his friends before falling asleep for the rest of the flight.  As they reach the airport and disembark, Sarah gets the phone number of the cute pilot.]

Sarah had gotten Harry papers validating that he had an immunodeficiency, so they’d been taken aside and through customs privately, which was much quicker than it would have been otherwise.  They had taken lodgings in the same neighbourhood as the last summer, although this time they’d had to take out a whole row of townhouses. Harry was very surprised to open his suitcase and find both Nagini and Du curled up on top of his neatly folded clothes.  

“What are you guyssss doing here?” he hissed at them.  “You realissse that sneaking in exotic animals issss a federal crime here, yessss?”

“Boi, you’sssss a wizard,” Nagini responded flippantly.  “You can jusssst magic yourssself out of jail. Bessssides, before I wassss smuggled to Ssssscotland, I belonged to an Eassssst Harlem drug lord, ssssso I’m just coming back to my hood.”

“Voldemort wasssssn’t your first masssster?” Harry asked.

“Nope. He jusssssst kidnapped me one day and did ssssome voodoo ssssshit on me.  I wasssss glad when you took it out. My firsssst master wasssss okay- I mean, he wassss kind of murder-y, but he had lotsssss of ratssss for me, so it evensssss out.  But I definitely love you besssst.”

“Thankssss,” Harry told her, patting her pretty head and putting Du (who was actually small enough for him to carry around) around his shoulders as he went down to tell Minnie and Sev that they’d accidentally brought illegal contraband in the form of sentient serpents.  This was already shaping up to be an interesting summer...

Chapter Text

Harry was sitting on Draco’s lap at the breakfast table in the first townhouse in the row with the other early risers (Draco, of course, was normally not an early riser, but he’d been glued to Harry for the past 48 hours since he got out of the hospital wing) when Fred and George suddenly came bursting through the door.  Molly Weasley, who was hustling about the kitchen making more breakfast, gave her sons an exasperated look, wooden spoon jutting out from the hands on her hips as she looked at them.

“What have you boys been up to?” she asked them, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

“New. York. Is. Awesome!” they exclaimed together.

“We rode the subway and ended up in Chinatown, where we bought Chinese firecrackers and some cool herbal teas, and then we found a bunch of hobos around a garbage fire and cooked sausages that they call ‘hot dogs’!” George exclaimed as Fred nodded enthusiastically.

“And then we got the tube/subway back and there was a bloke doing a line of coke and another guy doing prop comedy with what I’m pretty sure was a dead rat!” Fred continued, oddly pleased about this for some reason.

“Oh my!” Molly put a hand over her heart.

“Ugh, you’re so boring sometimes,” Fred teased their mother.

“Young men, I will have you know that Molly was one of our best fighters in the first war.  Her hit count was almost as high as Alastor Moody. The real Alastor Moody,” Minerva told the twins sternly.

“Mum, you’ve killed people? Wicked !” The twins cheered.

“Why you gotta go on about knitting patterns when you’ve got stories like that?” Fred complained.  Their mother waved her spoon at them.

“I may have done what I needed to do, but that doesn’t mean I enjoyed it,” she scolded them.  “Besides, you didn’t need to hear those kinds of things about your mother. How would you have felt knowing the woman who told you bedtime stories has hexed a man’s skin off his bones to keep him from killing your father?”

“AWESOME!” Fred exclaimed.  “That’s so awesome!   Why wasn’t that our bedtime story?!”

“Just a bit of advice, Molly,” Severus counseled, opening a new box of Pop Tarts.  “When a room is clearly being plagued by some sort of primordial chaos demon, it’s probably best not to make a baby in that room.”  Harry snorted, choking on his juice, and Draco patted him on the back.

“Severus!” She swatted him with her spoon.  “I never thought I’d have to tell you of all people not to make tasteless jokes!”

“Of course you didn’t; all my jokes are actually quite funny,” he retorted.  Minerva looked at the other mother and rolled her eyes in solidarity.

“I don’t know how you do it some days, Molly.  I only have one perfectly-well behaved son and one Severus and some days I’m still being run off my feet.  How do you manage so many?”

“I ask myself that same question, Minerva; I really do.  Now come Harry dear; have another omelette. You have that appointment with the muggle immune specialist and you need your strength.”

[Kreacher is off on some sort of errand, so Sirius and Remus use the opportunity to eat cake for breakfast, something they aren’t normally allowed to do.]

“Mount Sinai Hospital,” Pansy read the sign.  “Mount Sinai is nowhere near here; I hope they’re better at medicine than they are at geography.”

“Did you skip the Statue of Liberty to come with us just so you could snark about the US all day?” Ron sighed, jumping suddenly as a cab very nearly drove up onto the outer edge of the sidewalk where he had been standing.  He, Pansy, Fleur, Viktor, Hermione, Cedric, and Draco had been the party that had foregone sightseeing to be there as Harry’s appropriately-sized support group (apparently, according to Sarah, a group the size of “The Brady Bunch” would not be welcome in a hospital waiting room, whatever that meant)  Sarah, Minerva, and Severus were the responsible adults overseeing the madness.

“Don’t even get me started on that damn statue,” Pansy groaned.  “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses- as long as they’re white.  Ugh, why do people suck ?”

“Britain doesn’t exactly have the best record either,” Harry pointed out.  “We colonised half the world for spices we then decided not to use.” Severus and Minerva snorted.

“Shhh, we’re making fun of America right now,” Pansy chided.  “One fucked-up bureaucracy at a time, please.”

They meandered into the hospital and the receptionist pointed them to the Immunology wing, and Draco and Ron both squealed when the lift started moving upward.  Pansy, who’d taken one before with Hermione when they went to comicon the previous summer, kept her sense of composure.

“Now, the man we’re seeing- the head of the department- he’s a muggle, but his wife is a witch, so he’s aware of our situation,” Sarah told them.  Leaning down, she whispered quietly enough for only Harry to hear the next bit. “Oh, and Harry luv? I need you to leave the glamours down, so he can get a complete picture of what we’re dealing with, okay?”  Harry gulped and paled an bit but nodded. Draco, not knowing what was said but not wanting to push, squeezed Harry’s hand reassuringly.

Severus and Minerva were just helping themselves to terrible waiting-room coffee when they were greeted by a short, smiling man in a white lab coat.  He was significantly shorter than Sarah, standing around 5’4”, and he was balding slightly, but his smile was brilliant.

“Sarah-berry!” he greeted jollily, and Sarah squatted slightly to return his friendly hug.  “Been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“I know, Ted.  It’s almost like we have demanding jobs or something,” the mind healer quipped, and Ted chucked.

“Right you are there, right you are,” he conceded, before turning to the group.  “And you must be Harry,” he said, just picking out the shortest teenager in the group with the brilliant green eyes- exactly how his friend had described him.  “And let’s see- Minerva and Severus,” he motioned to the two adults before turning to the children. “We have Ron, judging by the hair, and that must be Viktor that you’re holding hands with.  Then we have Fleur,” he nodded to the blonde, “Draco, obviously, by the way you’re clinging to Harry. And then Hermione- and you’re right Rah, she does kind of look like a younger you. And then Cedric, and of course Pansy.  Even without the scars on your hands, Sarah said just to look for the oddly terrifying teenage girl, and that would be you cleaning your nails with the pocket knife.”

“Got it in one,” Cedric confirmed, smiling at him.  This was a fellow Hufflepuff.

“Alright then, Harry, if I may use your first name?” He waited for Harry’s nod before continuing.  “We’re just going to be doing some initial testing today- I’ll do a quick physical, height, weight, all that, and then a few blood tests.  We should have you out of here by noon. I wish I could go home by noon,” he chuckled gently. “My wife made chicken cacciatore, but I left the tupperware with the leftovers in the fridge instead of taking it to work.  I’m unfortunately forgetful with things like that.”

“You had Nancy’s chicken cacciatore and you didn’t bring it?” Sarah gasped, indignant.  “Shame on you; it’s been far too long since I’ve had her cooking.”

“Well, at least this way I won’t lose my lunch to a hungry mind healer.”  Sarah swatted him gently as they reached the door to the exam room. “Now, I want only Harry and his guardian in here with me.”

Severus cleared his throat.  “I am not technically a legal guardian, but as the school potions master I am involved in his care.  I insist on coming in as well.”

Ted looked at him.  “Sarah told me you would demand, not ask.  Very well, in you get.” Sarah hustled the other children back towards the waiting room.

It was only many years of medical training and work schooling his reactions to serious injuries and illness that kept Dr. Ted Copple from gasping out loud when he saw the myriad of gruesome scars on Harry’s back.  Even then, he was glad he started at the back and not the torso, as his face still silently betrayed his horror. He took a deep breath in and again schooled his face into that of friendly-yet-detached professional.  He just managed to keep it as he walked around to cast an eye at Harry’s front.

“Alright then,” he said a moment later.  “You can put your clothes back on now, buddy.”  Harry, feeling rather an idiot standing there in his boxer briefs, nodded and quickly shoved back on his jeans and t-shirt.  He was reaching for his jumper as well when Dr. Copple stopped him.

“If you could leave the sweater off for a bit; we still have to do your weight and blood pressure.   But I’ll turn the AC off so it’s not so cold in here.” With the kid’s tiny frame, Ted wasn’t surprised he was cold.  He had Harry step on the scale and moved the little knobs until he got the right balance, giving a concerned hum when he saw the number.  

Severus, who had been looking over the man’s shoulders, shared his concern but spoke up.  “He’s normally about three pounds heavier- not much, I know, but significant for someone of his size.  He’s just coming back from a bad case of pneumonia, however.”

Ted nodded.  “Sarah told me about that.  Another reason we’re going to do everything we can to improve his immune system.  As I understand it, he has enough trouble keeping weight on as it is, without factoring in weight loss due to illness.”  

The next thirty minutes saw Harry having his reflexes tested, his temperature taken, and a needle inserted into his arm as he watched his blood drip into the little plastic vials they used for blood testing in the muggle world.

“Not afraid of needles, huh?” Ted asked, impressed at his composure.

Harry shrugged with one shoulder as the next one went in.  “Not really,” he said. “I just- it barely hurts, is all.”

Ted didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just stayed silent.  “All done, buddy,” he said a moment later, removing the rubber band that he’d tied on for compression so he could put on a band-aid.  He looked at the place the band had been with a little concern- it was rather red and a little bit of a rash was developing. Severus pulled Harry’s hand away as he tried to scratch at it.

“Looks like we’ve got a little bit of a bad reaction to latex here, buddy.  Did you know you were allergic?”

“I mean… the gloves Aunt Petunia gave me to clean with used to make my hands and arms itchy, but I didn’t know why.  I thought it mighta been something in the cleaning fluids. And Hogwarts was the first time I went to the doctor, and they don’t use muggle stuff there,” Harry explained.

“Ah, well it’s a fairly simple fix- I have non-latex gloves that I can switch to now, but it does make me wonder if you have any other allergies.”  He looked at Severus and Minerva. “I understand there’s a spell you can do- if you wouldn’t mind running it here, I’d be grateful, as muggle testing for such things can be rather invasive.”

“I’ve performed the spell before,” Severus agreed.  “I can’t believe we didn’t think to do it before.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself; there’s a lot to consider in Harry’s case,” Ted said.  The potions master didn’t respond, as he was already performing the spell.

About six inches of parchment spilled from the end of his wand and Severus looked at the list.  “It’s a good thing we did this now,” he said, paling a bit. “You have a potentially fatal allergy to wormwood.”  

Harry’s face fell.  “But I wanted to learn how to make the draught of living death!”  Severus gave him a sympathetic look and ruffled his hair.

“Sorry, not going to happen.  It would just be the draught of death for you.  But wormwood is a fairly uncommon ingredient, thankfully, so it won’t inhibit your potions ambitions too much.  The rest of the list looks to be muggle things.”

“What’s on it?” Harry asked, trying to get a peek.

“Let’s see,” Severus said, still scanning it.  “We have latex, as we have already figured out.”  He cast another stern look at Harry as he tried to stealthily scratch at the localized rash, and the teen reluctantly ceased his efforts.  “Acrylic, so we’ll have to make sure we keep getting only the good wool for your knitting hobby, hmmm, radishes, so none of those, prawns- oh, that’s rather a serious one, do make a note to the house elves not to use any near anything they prep for Harry, Minerva.”  Harry was suddenly very glad he’d never had the opportunity to try them before, as the depth of the worried wrinkle in Uncle Sev’s forehead was concerning. “Sesame seeds… well, we don’t really use those much anyway, but it’s quite lucky we’ve never had a problem at a Chinese restaurant.  Avocados- apparently they are linked to latex allergies, that’s a bit interesting, although unfortunate. Henna paint- best not let Padma and Parvati do any of their temporary tattoos on you,then. And, last one- chlorine. Alright, no swimming pools for you then. Or anything with bleach…”

Harry, who up until this point had been listening quietly, although his face fell at a couple of items, suddenly looked up with wide eyes.  “Wait, bleach isn’t supposed to make you wheezy?” he asked in surprised.  

“Oh Harry, no,” Minerva said, squeezing his shoulder gently.  “Where’d you get that idea?”

Harry blushed a bit and scratched the back of his neck nervously.  “When I told Petunia I was having trouble breathing, she smacked me and said to stop making a big deal out of it, so I guess I just thought everybody had trouble with bleach and it was just a price you paid when you were super obsessed with cleaning stuff.”  Severus and Minerva’s faces darkened like thunder. Dr. Copple wasn’t too happy either.

[Kreacher hears Harry’s story through the bond and adds something to his list of revenge ideas.]

After the allergy test, they left the hospital as Ted put a rush on the results of the blood test.  They didn’t have their appointment with his wife until the next day, so they were faced with an entire afternoon of free time.  Fleur had nearly worked herself into a frenzy when she saw the rash on Harry’s arm, and he was glad that the cream Dr. Copple had put on it had already calmed it down a bit, or else he was afraid his overprotective friend/pseudo-big sister might have started screaming at people.

“Ze eetching, you are sure eet ‘as calmed down?” she asked him again as they walked towards Central Park, where they planned to spend the afternoon.

“I’m fine sis, really,” he said without thinking, and Fleur positively beamed as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.  

“Alright, eef you say so,” she finally said, dropping the subject and discretely wiping away a happy tear.

The natural, wide open space in the middle of New York City was a haven for all sorts, and Harry shot a dirty look at Uncle Sev, who was laughing at the memory of the last time they had visited the park, when Harry was catnapped and cuddled by a sticky little toddler and stuck with the nickname Sparky.  The others gave the potions master a strange look as he just started chuckling out of nowhere.

“Glad to be back, Sparky?” he asked his adopted nephew, wheezing with mirth.  

“Uncle Seeeev,” Harry whinged, “stop it or I’ll prank you again.”

“I’ll prank you back,” Severus threatened, ruffling his hair.  Harry really was sick of everyone feeling the need to do that- his mess of curls was already naturally chaotic enough, but he just sighed, accepting that nobody could resist doing it, for some reason.

“ Boys ,” Minerva chastised, also ruffling Harry’s hair.  The other teens had been discussing what they wanted to do during this interaction, and Cedric informed Harry that they were going to play hide and seek.  While her son and colleague were distracted by the continuation of their playful argument, Minnie pulled Pansy aside.

“With everything that’s been going on lately, I’m a little worried about Harry’s safety,” she told the young Slytherin in a hushed tone.  “I know that it’s unlikely that there are Death Eaters in Central Park, especially as Harry would probably feel them if there were, but could you…?”

“I’ll stay with him,” Pansy promised.  She had similar concerns, honestly- if something bad could conceivably happen in a situation, it would almost certainly happen to Harry.  She checked her boots for her poison darts and favourite dagger, made sure the pin in her hair that turned into a sword when she pulled it out was easily accessible, and also felt for the stun gun, pepper spray, and the three swiss army knives in her fanny pack (yes, she was being a typical tourist, but of course her friends would never dare tease her for her fashion choices out of fear for their continued pain-free existence- plus, it wasn’t hard to infer that she had some sort of weaponry in there.  They were wrong, of course. She had several types of weaponry in there).

“Alright troops!” She ordered, and they all fell in line almost automatically, Pansy’s boot-camp fight training during the school years having trained them to obey immediately.  “Harry and I are gonna seek, and the rest of you are going to hide. This is a tactical organisation drill- you must be hidden and hidden well in two minutes.  Winner gets a break from running laps in one training session the coming year.”  They all scurried away immediately, all wanting a break from Pansy’s intense cardio training.

After Pansy and Harry had counted to 120 (using Mississippi’s, because that’s the only way to count properly, duh ), they had begun to seek when Harry put a hand on Pansy’s arm.

“Stop!” he cried, “I feel Fred and George nearby.” Pansy grinned and motioned for him to lead the way, and they found the two boys sitting by a park bench holding a brown paper bag leaking some sort of charmswork.

“Hey guys!” Harry called.  “Whatcha got there?”

Fred and George smiled at Harry, pleased he seemed to be in such a good mood.  “Well, little brother,” George began.

“These are our new mimicking maple melts,” Fred finished.  “You just pop one in your mouth, and then you sound like whichever person speaks first for twenty minutes after you’ve swallowed it.”

“Ooh! Can I try?” Harry asked eagerly.  

“Sorry lil’ guy, we wanna make sure they’re safe first,” George told him.  “We’re cool with accidentally mutilating Ron or Charlie or something, but we only have one brother who’s not a redhead.  You’re a hot commodity.”

“Haha,” Harry deadpanned, rolling his eyes at him.  Then his face lit up. “I have an idea!”

“Ooh, do tell,” the twins said, loving the mischievous glint in his eyes.  

[Hedwig is wishing she snuck onto the plane to be with Harry; but the snakes didn’t tell her about it.  Maybe they were just jealous that she was Harry’s familiar.]

Soon Fred, George, and Pansy all had Pansy voices as they went to continue their game of hide and seek.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Pansy called.

“Hey Harry, I think someone’s hiding over here,” George called in Pansy’s voice from a decent distance away.

“Or over here!” Fred yelled, from yet further away.  Soon they were all three calling out at the same time, all with Pansy’s voice.  From their hiding spots, their friends were very confused- how on earth was Pansy calling out from three different places at once?  (They’d conveniently forgotten that they were allowed to use magic in America during the summer). Ron was the first to crack, running out from his position behind a large boulder.

“She’s cloned herself somehow!” Ron exclaimed.  “ Run for your lives! ”

“Boggarts een ze park, boggarts een ze park!” Viktor screeched, running out from behind the same boulder (yes, they had been making out there).

Soon everyone had fled their hiding spots, only to be very confused when they saw only one Pansy, joined by Fred and George, who hadn’t been there before they’d gone to hide.  Severus and Minerva, who had been reading and each trying to pretend they weren’t anxiously keeping an eye on Harry, were roaring with laughter.

“Do you like our new invention?” the twins asked in unison, still with Pansy’s voice.  The others looked at them in horror (it really was a rather disturbing sight) and slowly started protesting and clamouring as they realised they’d been duped.

“ You guys are the worst !” Ron groaned, talking to his brothers (he wouldn’t dare say such a thing to Pansy).

“We’re the best !” Harry gasped, doubled over in laughter.

“Yeah, you’re the best, but they suck,” Ron countered, catching his best friend so he wouldn’t fall over from laughing too hard.

“I totally forgot we could do magic here during the summer,” Draco said, reaching over to take his boyfriend from Ron, sitting down on the grass and pulling him to his chest.  Harry mused through his giggle fit that Draco looked amazing in muggle jeans.  He pulled himself up a little, still giggling, and places a kiss on the corner of the blonde’s mouth.  Draco softly bumped their noses together.

“Yes, yes, we all love Harry,” Pansy interrupted.  “And nobody gets a break from cardio- you must never give your position to the enemy, losers.”

Everyone groaned at once.  They all loved Pansy dearly, but sometimes she was like this stray cat that annoyed them to oblivion and that they couldn’t get rid of if they tried.  A really badass, scary, talented stray cat who could kill people. Would kill people for them, without a second thought.  And they couldn’t help but love her for it.

Chapter Text

The next day, Harry had another appointment with the magical immune specialist, which went similarly to the one with her husband, although instead of having blood drawn there were just a lot of diagnostic spells (and, of course, a lot of concerned eyebrow raising).  After that, they headed back to their row of townhouses. They were all sitting in the living room of the one Harry shared with Sev and Minnie, flipping idly through the channels on the telly.

“What should we do tonight?” Pansy asked as she braided Hermione’s hair, Millie sitting behind them doing the same thing for Pansy.  

“Sleep?” Harry tried, swallowing back a yawn.  He’d been out of the hospital wing less

than a week, and already the constant activity was starting to wear him out.  He scooted further into Draco’s lap as his boyfriend stroked his hair.

“You’re such an old person,” Pansy groaned, rolling her eyes.  “We’re in New York- they’re supposedly famous for their nightlife; we should do something fun !”

“Naps are fun,” Harry replied, purring softly as Draco rubbed his scalp.  He was nearly as snuggly in his human form as he was as a kitten.

“What about a date night?”  Ginny suggested. “We could all go to a restaurant, get a bunch of separate tables all spread out.  It would be nice to have some actual romantic time that doesn’t involve facing dragons or rescuing people from lakes or waltzing in front of the whole school.”

“Uh… Ginny?  You did none of those things,” Ron pointed out.  His sister threw the tv remote at him.  

“I was there ; I did them in spirit.  Right Harry?” She turned to her cool brother for support, but he was already asleep, clinging to Draco’s robes as he snored softly.  

[Kreacher has put a spell on the Dursley’s so that they are forced to clean the house everyday and feel like they can’t breathe the entire time.]

“How did I get roped into this?” Severus groaned later that night as he and Minerva led their smartly dressed students to the door of The River Café in Brooklyn.  He pulled uncomfortably at the bowtie of his muggle suit (“that’s what you get for saying ‘I don’t care, just pick something out for me ,’” Minnie thought gleefully).  “Everyone’s going to think I’m one of those morons that takes their mother out for fancy dinners.”  

Minnie smacked him.  “I don’t look nearly old enough to be your mother; if anything, I’d be your favourite aunt.”  The man rolled his eyes at her as they walked towards the maȋtre d, who looked exceedingly nervous about the presence of so many people.

“I don’t believe we have a reservation for such a large party,” she said, looking frantically through her book and hoping she hadn’t forgotten something.

“Don’t worry; we’re all eating separately.  There should be a number of two-and-three person reservations under McGonagall.”  The woman at the podium breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes, we have you right here,” she said.  “Right this way.” Severus was jealous of the other adults- although he’d said that a Broadway Production of Rent was the last place he’d ever consent to be, it turned out it was the second last, as he’d much rather be with the other parents at some trite musical than watch a bunch of dunderhead Americans stumble their way through romance whilst most of his students struggled with which fork to use.

Pansy was wearing a dark purple cocktail dress with long sleeves and a Bateau neckline that left her well-defined shoulders bare, and Hermione was wearing a black pencil skirt with a white chiffon blouse, while Millie wore a plain black dress to balance the red lipstick and dark mascara she had for makeup.  Harry was wearing a suit with a green silk bow tie (the colour of his eyes) but unlike Severus, he looked ridiculously happy about it. Pansy had coaxed his curls into a sort of organised chaos that at least looked like it was messy by design, and Minnie thought proudly that he looked very grown-up as he pulled Draco’s chair out for him.  Every eye in the room, however, was on Fleur in her floor-length, cream dress. Fleur ignored the stares with a grace borne of years of practice, but she did cast condescending, cold looks at anyone who dared look dubiously at Malala.  To dispel any further whispers, she pulled out the chair for her girlfriend and dropped a kiss on her cheek as she pushed it in once Malala had sat down. Minerva had already informed the wait staff of Harry’s shrimp allergy when she made the reservation so they wouldn’t cross contaminate.  

“The gnocchi looks good,” Harry commented as they looked at the menus.

“Why don’t you try the chicken or the steak?” Draco asked his boyfriend.  “You need something with protein.”

“Yes, please mother me some more, it’s so attractive,” Harry quipped, rolling his eyes, but he ordered the chicken.  They held hands across the table as Harry listened to Draco talk about a book series he wanted them to read together when it came out, and Pansy laughed loudly at something Hermione said.  Fleur and Malala talked softly in rapid French while Ron and Viktor, unable to talk about their favourite subject (quidditch) in a muggle area, just sat in comfortable silence, sharing appetizers and watching the traffic go by outside the window.

“Mmm, try this,” Draco said as their deserts came, dipping a clean spoon into an unbitten part of his goat cheese cheesecake and passing it to Harry.

“You don’t have to use a clean spoon, you dork, we literally share spit on a daily basis,” Harry told his boyfriend, fondly exasperated.  

“Well, the spoon’s already dirty now, so you might as well just eat off of it.”

Harry rolled his eyes again.  “I love you, you big prat.”

Draco choked on his cheesecake as he comprehended the magnitude of what had just happened.  He had been wanting to say it first for months but was too nervous, and then Harry just threw it out there, all casual.  And had the nerve to laugh at him as he tried to collect himself!

“I… I love you too,” he wheezed, draining his water glass.  “You giant arse.”

[Dr. and Dr. Copple got the results back on Harry’s tests; they compare notes at home and they don’t like what they see.]

Severus moped over his sorbet and spice cake as he watched everyone in the restaurant making goo-goo eyes at each other.  

“I’m going to go get some air; I saw an apothecary nearby and I’ve been meaning to do some experimenting anyway,” he grumbled at his colleague.  “It’s right down the street; Harry should be able to find it by the magic- it would be potions ingredients and muggle repelling charms.”

“Yes, Severus, I know what an apothecary is.  And I wouldn’t call it fresh air to go from exhaust fumes to dusty potions ingredients, but suit yourself.  I’m having a lovely time.” She motioned to the waitress to bring another scotch as she smiled and watched Harry lean over to whisper something in Draco’s ear.  

The potions master stalked down to the street, pulling off his bowtie, shoving it in his pocket, and undoing the buttons on his suit jacket.  He pushed on the gilded handle of the old glass door into the apothecary, and a bell rang as a wizened old warlock looked up disinterestedly from where he was scribbling numbers in a large leatherbound book.

“Welcome,” he hummed listlessly before turning back to his work, the quill scratching noisily along old parchment.  

“Mmmph,” Severus sluggardly waved off the lackluster greeting.  He ran his finger along a row of begrimed glass phials holding uninteresting plant derivatives.  “Nothing really worth stocking, no wonder nobody bothers with upkeep.” He was surprised when he turned slightly to the side to find someone standing just over his shoulder; he was very hard to sneak up on.

“I wouldn’t say our ingredients are worth quite that level of disdain,” the man said, tall, fair, and lithe, with shoulder length dirty-blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail.  “After all, you’re what- British? It’s nearly impossible to find quality thunderbird feathers on your dreary little island.”  

“Fair point, but selkie hair and scales are far more potent than whatever you can get off your mer subspecies.”

“Good luck trying to get bottled siren song off a selkie,” the other man snorted.

“I would say you’re rather biased,” Severus intoned passively, casting a condescending eye at the box in the man’s arms.  “It would appear you work here, for whatever reason, or else I would have heard the bell when you entered through the front door.”

The man met his gaze, unintimidated.  “I don’t work here; I just occasionally make deliveries of my product.  I’m a potions master.”

“As am I- have been since I was nineteen, so I would dare say I have more experience.”

“Ah, I got mine at twenty-one, but I brew for research exclusively.  Judging by the fact that you’re beginning in the ‘common ingredients’ aisle, I would assume you teach? Takes up a lot of your time, hm?”

“I am perfectly capable of handling two things at once, and I fund my own research as well,” Severus retorted.

“And you think I don’t?  Why else would I be dropping off a box of potions at a back-alley apothecary at,” he pulled a pocket watch out of his breast pocket, “10 o’clock at night?”

The other raised an eyebrow.  “Fair point,” he said, extending a hand.  “Professor Severus Snape.”

A lighter eyebrow on the other’s face mirrored the expression as he clasped Severus’ extended hand in a firm grip.  “Julian Donovan- pleasure,” he responded eloquently.

Severus appraised him with an expression of mild surprise- the man had made several publications that had gone a short ways towards aiding his work for Harry’s immune system.

“Hmm-  I believe I am familiar with your work.  I found your paper on the experimental effects of Alihotsy bark and essence of Bubotuber on basophilic multiplication mildly interesting.”

“You say that as if you just stumbled across it, yet I’m a fairly obscure researcher and that was a highly niche area to be examining,” Julian noted.

“Yes… well, one does have to look rather hard to find anything even remotely noteworthy among the body of American work.”

“Then why are you here, exactly,” Julian countered, “if my country is so unexceptional?”

Severus was saved from answering when they heard voices outside.

“That was really good,” enthused a voice he knew to be Harry’s as the group drew closer to the door.  “It’s a shame that Ced and Cho didn’t join us.”

“Cedric had a session with Sarah,” Hermione reminded him.  “And Cho would never miss an opportunity to see a Broadway show- haven’t you heard her and my mum harmonising the Les Mis soundtrack the entire week?”

“Well, at least we got a lot of takeaway,” Harry said, opening the door and sneezing as the dust hit his nose.  “Oh hey Uncle Sev- who’s your friend?”

Julian looked the small boy over as the other man’s research began to make a little more sense to him.  “Julian Donovan, pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh!” Harry said, shaking his hand eagerly.  “I know you- you did that article on the potential benefits of synthesising an artificial blend of Moly and Wiggentree bark for Teen Potion’s Monthly !  Uncle Sev is a big fan of your work.”

“Is he now?” Julian smirked while Severus mentally facepalmed and recognition dawned on Harry’s face while he glanced between them.

“Oh,” Harry nodded knowingly.  “Did he do that thing where he pretends to be unimpressed by other people’s intelligence so he’ll look cooler?”  Severus did something he didn’t do very often (or ever) - he blushed.

“Alright brat, time to go home,” he ordered, beginning to hustle the children towards the door.  Harry sneezed again, and Severus slowed down a moment to pull out a handkerchief, gently chiding the teen for forgetting his own.

“Wait-” Julian commanded right as the gathered themselves up to exit.  “Here’s my floo address- in case you ever wanted to collaborate on research… or something.”  He pressed a wrinkled bit of parchment into Severus’ hand, who gave him a probing look as they all walked out into the night.  

Chapter Text

Harry and Sarah were trying a less conventional approach to therapy the next morning.  “I know that the third task was very difficult for Cedric even to watch; I can only imagine it was even more so to experience ,” Sarah prodded gently as she kicked a football (the real football, not the wonky ovular abominations Americans called a football) towards him in the small, fenced-in backyard of their townhouse.

“It wasn’t fun, no,” Harry agreed, as he batted the ball between his feet.  “I mean, it hurt a lot, like physically, and it was pretty scary. But I think the hardest part was that I got to see my parents, but then they were gone again.  And even though I’ve got a great family now, and I’m happy, I was still wondering what it would have been like and kind of like… wishing that they hadn’t died, but that made me feel like I was betraying Minnie, and it’s all so confusing, and then I kind of wished it hadn’t happened at all, but I also wish it had happened for longer… and I just don’t know what… what to think.” He angrily wiped a tear out of his eye as he flopped to a sitting position against the solitary oak tree.

Sarah came to sit beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.  “Oh Harry,” she sighed. “That’s perfectly normal, to wonder what could have been.  And it doesn’t make you a bad person to wish your parents hadn’t died- I’m sure Minnie wishes they were still alive too, even though you’re her son and she loves you dearly.  Because it’s okay to feel two things at once, you know, and be able to have them both acknowledged without infringing on the other.  Just like it’s okay to be angry with someone but acknowledge that you don’t love them any less during that time, it’s normal to be happy with the way things are and still miss the ones who couldn’t be there.”  

“Really?”  Harry asked.  “How do I… how do I do that?”

“You know when Severus is annoying you with his nicknames and his sarcasm, or when Poppy makes you want to scream because she just won’t let you out of the hospital wing , but you never feel any less affection for them despite the fact that it’s not your prominent emotion at the time?”

“Yeah?”

She ruffled his hair.  “Just like that,” she told him.  “You give yourself permission to feel what you feel, the way you feel it.  And you remind yourself that you have a right to feel that way, and that your natural emotional reactions don’t make you a bad person.”

“Even when they’re selfish?” Harry asked, wet green eyes looking at her, open and vulnerable.

“ Especially when they’re selfish, Harry.  Emotions are a reaction of the self , a representation of the self.  They are what make us who we are in all our metaphysical glory.  Then we have our physical selves, and we choose which emotions to funnel into actions and which to keep within us.  At our core, Harry, we’re just feelings and reactions to those feelings. Tell me, have you ever heard of something called the looking glass self ?”

Harry shook his head ‘no.’

“It’s a muggle sociological principle.  Basically, there was this guy, Cooley, and he theorised that our personalities and our beings are shaped by watching other people and their reactions to us and their perceptions of us, and it’s our reactions to their reactions that build our own selves.  So essentially, without others, we would be completely different people than who we are right now.”

“Yeah, but how does that…”

“So we’re getting a bit philosophical, but what I’m trying to say, Harry, is that you have had some of the worst experiences with the other, and yet here you are, still strong and kind and wonderful.  And it’s okay for you to have an inner self and an outer self, and for them to be a little different.  And it’s okay for your inner self to be a little selfish. Because the self you show the world? The one that plays off everyone else’s reactions and still manages to be the stronger, better person that anyone in their right mind absolutely adores - that’s your best self; that’s the self you choose to be.”

Harry looked at her carefully for a long moment before nodding sharply.  “How- how’d you figure all this out?”

Sarah ruffled his hair.  “It’s a tough world out there, kid, but it teaches you things.  I grew up in the seventies and eighties; it was tough to be a black woman, it was even tougher to be gay.  It was even tougher to be gay with two gay dads. And even though they were supportive, the rest of the world wasn’t.  And one day I thought to myself ‘ I can either be the black dyke with two fag dads, or I can be the strong, independent woman with the killer tan who heard twice as many dad jokes and wanted half as many with her own kids .’  Perception is everything, Harry, and bringing our inner perception into balance with the one the world tries to push onto us is what I needed to do to be happy, what we all need to do to be happy.  So I took the world’s perception of me, and I accepted only what I liked, and then I decided I wanted to help other people do that too. Then I met you, which perhaps has been the greatest gift of all.”

“I’m pretty glad I met you too,” Harry responded, hugging her tightly with a tearful giggle.  “But I think we can all agree that my tan is definitely better.”

The mind healer rolled her eyes at him.  “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s go have lunch.”

[Severus very reluctantly lets Harry have the last Pop Tart- a true testament to how much he’s come to love him.]

After lunch, they had another appointment with Ted Copple to discuss the test results.  When they got to the hospital, Harry, Severus, and Minerva were rather surprised to see a woman with him.

“Hello again, Harry,” Ted said.  “Thank you for coming in again- this is my wife, Nancy.”  He motioned to the blonde-haired, blue eyed witch beside him, who was taller than him by a good six inches.  “I thought we might as well all meet together to discuss the results and save a trip.”

“We appreciate that,” Severus said.  “This city is a nightmare to navigate.”

“Someone is in the bad milk today,” Nancy said, and Harry noted an accent- obviously a romance language, since it was Latin-esque (and he would know; he spoke Latin).

“What?” Minerva asked.

“Oh,” the blonde laughed.  “I’m sorry- I am from Spain, and sometimes I get my idioms mixed up.  In Spanish, we say ‘ponerse de mala leche ,’ and it translates directly to ‘getting in bad milk’ but in English the closest thing would be what you call ‘waking up on the wrong side of the bed.’”

“Interesting,” Harry said.  “It makes sense, actually- I always knew you were sour, Uncle Sev.  Apparently you’ve just been getting in the wrong milk.”

“Insufferable child,” the man grumbled, but his mouth betrayed him when the corners quirked into a slight smile.  

“Alright, so why don’t we all sit down in my office?”  Ted said, his expression becoming more serious. Severus and Minerva got a sinking feeling in their stomachs, although Harry didn’t even notice, as he was busy chattering away in Latin to Nancy, trying to see how much she could understand by virtue of being a native Spanish speaker.  It was a true testament to how much safer he felt now than three years previously; before, he would never let his guard down in a public space, jumpy and skittish and aware of every movement anyone made.

“So, here are the results, although the numbers probably don’t mean much to you,” Ted chuckled tensely.  Minerva had to concede that he was right, however Severus, who had to have a certain amount of medical background knowledge to qualify for his potions mastery, knew immediately what this meant for Harry, and he blanched but tried not to appear too outwardly nervous.  

“Harry, why don’t you go wait outside for a moment- we’re going to be talking a lot of numbers and it will no doubt bore you,” he told the teen, who wasn’t buying it.

“Waiting out in the hallway would be more boring,” he countered.  Nancy, realising that Severus was hoping to have an uncensored conversation and would rather not Harry be there, tapped him on the shoulder.  

“Vamos,” she said.  “ven conmigo- voy a enseñarte un poco del español para que dejes de hablar como viejo profesor de la historia romana.”   Harry, still well aware there was something Uncle Sev didn’t want him to hear but tempted by the offer to learn a little Spanish (at least, he thought that’s what she was offering…) did as he was (probably?) instructed.  The Dursleys had been, like their neighbours and ‘friends’ enormous, ethnocentric racists who saw no need for anyone to ever use anything other than English, no matter where they were or who they might be, and this had instilled in him the desire to learn how to say as much as he could in as many different languages as he could possibly manage.  So, it was with little protestation that he trotted out after Nancy.

“Alright, so what is it that you didn’t want Harry to hear, Severus?” Minerva asked, growing increasingly concerned herself.  

Ted put on his best face of professional detachment as he began to explain the results.  “So essentially, someone Harry’s age should have a white blood cell count of about 8500 cells per microlitre of blood.  There are multiple subtypes of white blood cells, however, the counts we are most concerned with are his Neutrophil and Lymphocyte levels.  Neutrophils fight against bacterial infections, and Lymphocytes against viral infections. Normal counts for neutrophils should be at least 1000 per microlitre, and his lymphocytes around 3000 per microlitre.  What has Nancy and I concerned are that Harry ’ s levels lie at approximately 875 and 2000, respectively.  This indicates a moderately severe primary immunodeficiency.”  

Minerva gasped sharply but managed to speak.  “So, what we thought was merely a carryover from chronic malnutrition…”

“It might have begun that way, yes,” Ted confirmed.  “But due to the extent of the abuse and the many untreated infections and injuries he experienced as a child, it has developed into a more serious chronic immune disorder.  Don’t feel bad,” he interrupted, seeing Minerva’s face begin to fall even further. “There is nothing you could have done to prevent it, even if you’d known immediately. The condition had already developed long before he came to Hogwarts- I’d say around nine, looking at his records.”

“He’d developed a chronic disability by the time he was nine ,” Minerva repeated faintly.  “I’m going to kill them. I’m actually going to kill them .”  

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Ted said, trying weakly for a joke.  “Whatever you do once you get back to Britain, right now we need to focus on treatment.  Nancy and I talked, and we’ve agreed that a mostly-muggle treatment plan will have the greatest efficacy in this case, although we will be using some supplementary potions to hopefully boost the success of the muggle treatment.  Now, what we’re going to do is something called immunoglobulin therapy. Immunoglobulins consist of antibody proteins needed to fight infections, and the plan we’ve decided on is a standard mixture of IV and subcutaneous injection therapy.  The IV injection is more intensive and takes about 2-4 hours, and we are going to start with doing that every two weeks, although hopefully with time we can decrease it to once every four. It is unlikely we will ever be able to cease altogether, I am sorry to say,” he warned them, and Minerva made an odd choking sound in the back of her throat while, somewhere behind Severus, a glass figurine on the bookshelf shattered.  He went to wave his want to fix it, but Ted held up a hand. “Don’t worry about that- just a little thrift store trinket. Now, the IV treatment needs to be administered by a professional, but with your medical background, Severus, I can arrange to have you take a training course here, if you would be willing.”

“Of course,” Severus agreed.  “Anything to make this easier for Harry.”

“The subcutaneous injection is much simpler- Harry could probably administer that himself, honestly, although I somehow doubt you’d let him.”  He smiled slightly as the professors faces confirmed this. “That needs to be done once or twice a week; we will start with twice and hopefully work our way down.”

“And the side effects?”  Severus asked, not daring to hope their wouldn’t be any.

Dr. Ted nodded appreciatively.  “I was getting to that- the side effects are similar to those a healthy person might experience with a flu shot: low-grade fever, aching muscles, headaches- but these will likely decrease and even cease altogether as Harry’s system accustoms itself to the treatment.”

“That… that’s quite a lot to take in…” Minerva muttered weakly.  “I… I hate to think what would have happened if the Weasley twins hadn’t realised what was going on in that house.”

Ted looked at her gravely, tilting his head upward to look her in the eyes.  “If you haven’t already, I would express your immense gratitude towards these twins.  It is my professional opinion, as well as my wife’s, that despite his immense magical ability, Harry would have been unlikely to survive another summer if the abuse and neglect continued at the current rate.”

Chapter Text

From beyond the veil, James and Lily were watching this interaction with increasing horror and mounting fury.  Their baby; their poor baby .  An immune disease- a chronic disability .  Lily clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

“I can’t believe that my sister… my own sister… it was awful before, but now it’s like… it’s like he’ll never be free of them.  How… how could she do this to my child? !” Lily wailed, and James put an arm around her.

“You didn’t choose to put him there, Lils; our will specified that he go literally anywhere else.   You’re not responsible for what she’s done.”

Lily’s sobs slowly ceased as her green eyes hardened, a murderous look appearing that had never graced the matching orbs of her son.  “You’re right,” she told her husband. “ I am not responsible, but she needs to be.  I think that this Halloween is the time we finally go haunting.”

James gently touched her face.  “You’re right,” he said. “It is time.  Harry’s not with them any more, so they won’t be able to hurt him in retaliation.  And I know that afterwards we were going to wait until they died, since Kreacher was already handling things so well back in the land of the living, and we opted to stay in and watch Harry, but this is just too much- if Harry has to deal with the effect what they’ve done to him for the rest of his life, then we’re going to make their Halloween even more terrible than they made Harry’s.”

“We ought to pay a visit to Dumbledore too,” Lily grit through clenched teeth.  “Make him pay a little- a frying pan to the head will seem like hugging a puppy when I’m done with him.”

“ There’s the woman I married,” James exclaimed, and the look on his face was not an easy-going, mischievous pranking smile.  No- his smile was a razor blade and his hazel eyes were fire.

Lily gave a sharp nod before her shoulders slumped dejectedly.  “I just wish… I wish we could see Harry. The rules of haunting- they’re just so cruel.”

James pulled his wife to his chest.  “I do too, luv. But we can only leave on Halloween, and according to the laws of arithmancy, the only day we can leave is also a day of demons and revenge.  It sucks that it lines up that way, but at least he… he has people now. Even if they can’t be us.”

Lily balled her fists into her husband’s robes, her vivid curtain of red hair falling around her face as she shook, silently sobbing.  “I… I miss him James- more than anything.”

James’ teardrops rolled their way down his cheeks to land on the crown of Lily’s head, where they caught the light, gleaming like a curtain of pearls.  “Me too, Lils. Me too.”

[Padfoot and Jesse the puppy play tug-of-war with Remus’ favourite pair of slippers.   That’ll teach him to eat Sirius’ leftovers.]

Minerva and Severus came out into the nearly empty waiting room to find Harry studying the conjugations of the verb ser for all fourteen tenses, his tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth, an empty cup of green jello beside him.

“ Hab í a sido,” Nancy stressed.  “Enfoque un poco más en el acento al i.”

“ Hab í a sido, ” Harry repeated.

“Muy bien hecho, Harry.  Perfectamente.” The teen smiled and looked up from his chart, catching sight of his guardians.

“Hey M’na, Uncle Sev,” he greeted.  “I tried jello.”

“Yes,” Severus said, looking at the empty snack-cup and trying to emulate his normal demeanor.  “I see that.”

Harry, of course, saw right through it.  “What’s wrong? You look like somebody died- and I know that can’t be right, because you were talking about me and I am, as you can see, very much alive.”

“Yes, most unfortunately,” Severus tried again, weakly, for humour, but it didn’t land right.  Harry patted the chair beside him.

“Come, talk to me,” he ordered the two adults.  “I’ve got nutter butters.” He waved the cellophane-wrapped peanut-butter cookies temptingly.  Both adults politely declined the offer of snacks, so Harry shrugged and unwrapped a pack for himself, patiently waiting for them to be ready to talk.

“So, we talked to the doctor…” Minerva began.

“You mean you weren’t at the clown rodeo?” Harry teased, and got only blank looks.  “Oh right- it’s an American thing Fred and George were talking about.  Anyway, what’s up?”

Minerva took in a deep breath, trying to break it gently, but it came out more like, “Youhaveanautoimmunedisorder! ”

“I have a blue pontoon disorder?  I don’t think that’s a thing…”

“I’m sorry, I got a little choked up- an Autoimmune disorder.  You don’t have enough white blood cells to fight off disease, essentially.”

“I mean, makes sense- I’ve never exactly been white enough,” Harry chuckled.  Nancy also snorted.

“Will you focus, child?” Severus asked, not really irritated with Harry but the situation at large.

“Sorry,” Harry said, still laughing at his own joke.  “But I’m not really sure what’s so surprising about that- I mean, I get sick a lot, so it makes sense that something would be kinda messed up.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Severus told him.  “Before, we thought it was something that we could correct with time, but this is a chronic condition that you will be dealing with for the rest of your life- I’m sorry, Harry, I really am.”

“Eh,” Harry shrugged.  “I’ve done alright so far, and I wasn’t really expecting it to just go away.  I mean, I know you guys were hoping you could fix it, but I kind of thought that it was like the thing with my height- like how I might get taller from what I was, but I’ll never be as tall as I could have been, y’know?  I mean, it woulda been nice if there was a quick fix, but I’ve learned over time that life just isn’t that easy.”

“That- when did the fourteen-year-old become the most mature person in the room?” Severus stuttered.

“Hey- I’m almost fifteen!” Harry reminded him.  

“Right, of course,” the man said, not really paying much attention, his mind still trying to process everything that was happening.

“So, do we just keep up with the potions, or is there something else that you guys wanna try?”  This is where Nancy stepped in.

“We were actually going to try something called Immunoglobulin therapy,” the doctor began, before giving him a similar explanation to the one her husband had given the professors.  Harry listened carefully until she was done.

“So I just have to spend a couple hours every two weeks with the immuno-whatevers going in via needle, and I could just do my homework or something, and do the other injections twice a week; then I can just go about my normal life, and I should get sick less?”

“That’s the goal; yes,” Nancy agreed.  “We are also going to replace the standard immune-support potion you’ve been on with something a little stronger that’s designed to support the muggle therapy, as the potions you were on were made for temporary corrections, not a chronic condition.”

“So I won’t have to stay as much time in the hospital wing?  Wait- Madame Pomfrey isn’t gonna try to lock me up in the hospital wing every time I do the treatment, is she?”  He squinted suspiciously.

“She’ll probably keep you overnight the first couple times, poppet, just to monitor the side effects, but after that you should be able to leave after the treatment is over,” Minnie told him, unable to hold back a chuckle at his distrustful expression.

Harry’s face relaxed.  “Okay, that’s alright then, I guess.  Hey, can we get ice cream on the way home?”

Minerva smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead.  “Whatever you want, love; whatever you want.” Somehow, just seeing Harry take it so well made her feel better- his pleasant attitude was like a balm for the downtrodden soul.  

Chapter Text

“Alright Harry, do you have everything you need for the night?” Minerva asked her son as they prepared to go to Ted’s hospital for his first immunoglobulin therapy treatment the next day.

“Yep,” he said.  “I’ve got my pyjamas, my shampoo, toothbrush,the book I’m reading, and I’ve got you, Uncle Sev, and one clingy boyfriend.”

“And I’ve got my neck pillow,” Draco said, ignoring the ‘clingy’ jibe.  “For sleeping in the chair in Harry’s room.”

Harry cast his boyfriend a fond look.  “You know you don’t have to, Dray. It’ll be so uncomfortable, and I’ll be back the next morning, anyway.  You could just go home tonight.”

“And leave you?!” the blonde screeched.  “Never- I’ll be staying because I love you and you’re stuck with me because of it.”

Harry rolled his eyes.  “I wouldn’t wanna be stuck with anyone else, even if they were normal.”

[Some of the kids have signed up for activities at the local YMCA.  Luna and Ginny are taking banjo classes, and Pansy ended up getting stuck taking banjo as well after she was kicked out of the jiu-jitsu class she was taking with Hermione and Millie.  Apparently, when you are capable of flipping the teacher over your shoulder and onto the mat during the first practice demonstration, he suddenly ‘ has nothing else to teach you .’  Weenie.]

After Severus made sure Harry was settled in with Dr. Ted, comfortable in his bed as he started the therapy and watched a movie with Minnie and Draco, he went to the room he was to report to for his training session.  He was the only one taking the class that day, apparently, so it was a smaller room in a more distant hallway, and when he finally got there, he was only 2 minutes early instead of his planned 10, which irked him.

He was surprised and caught off guard (which further irked him) when he opened the door to see Julian Donovan standing there in a muggle lab coat, pecking away at the keyboard of the muggle computer.

“Oh, Severus- what a pleasure,” the man said, managing to regain his composure rather quickly (which, of course, irked Severus even further ).

“Donovan- what are you doing here?”

“Please, call me Julian,” the other corrected.  “And I’m a muggle immunologist as well- I suppose I neglected to mention that the other night, although it was no surprise, really- you left like the room was on fire.”  The corners of his mouth quirked upwards into a smirk. “But yes- this is my main job, actually. My parents were the type of snotty purebloods commonly found in Britain- my dad came over from Northern Ireland, actually- and they disowned me for being of the opinion that muggles are human beings of equal value.  But I got a scholarship to NYU med school, and I worked nights as a phlebotomist to pay for my potions mastery courses at the same time. I now work part-time with both Ted and Nancy when I’m not doing independent potions research.”

“I thought you funded your research by selling to that second-rate apothecary,” Severus sneered, trying to regain the upper hand.

“I do,” Julian said, nonplussed.  “I like to fund my potions career independently of my medical salary- I try to live simply and put most of it away in savings.  Mock me if you like, but I like to be prepared. You never know when a life-changing opportunity could come along, and I’d hate to miss it because I didn’t have the financial resources.”

“How… optimistic of you.  I prefer to save for the inevitable crisis, but I suppose life is kinder to some.”

“My, how sour we are today.   Se pone de mala leche , as Nancy would say.”

Severus crossed his arms and glared at him.  “I’ve had enough of that infernal phrase,” he grumbled.

“You know, you talk a big game, but I’ve seen you with your little nephew- the one you’re taking this class for, no?  You’re rather a softie, when you get down to it,” Julian gibed.

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” Severus deflected.

“Ah yes, my one student.  Well, I’ll just summon up a dummy for the simulation and get everything set up while we continue this scintillating conversation,” Julian said pleasantly, apparently pretending Severus wasn’t trying to be a grade-A arse.  “So, this nephew of yours- your brother or sister’s child?”

“Neither,” Severus said.  “My childhood best friend, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Ah, of course.  Just trying to make conversation, then.  Did your best friend also come across the pond, then?  I’m rather curious to meet the person who’s managed to earn the title.”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Julian said genuinely.  Severus gave him a dark look.

“You cannot possibly have not known that Harry Potter has dead parents, and as irritating as you’re being, you don’t seem the type to be deliberately cruel, so tell me, should I be concerned that I’m receiving instruction from a man so clearly prone to forgetting pertinent information?”

Julian’s mouth opened in surprise.  “Your nephew is Harry Potter ?”

Severus glared at him.  “Yes, what of it?”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to sound- that is to say, I didn’t see the scar the other night.  It was dark out, and I suppose I’m just a bit surprised is all. I wasn’t expecting him to look so, well…”

Severus glared harder.  “I assure you, he might have health problems, but he’s a remarkable child.  Stronger than you could possibly understand.”

Julian sighed.  “Look, I can see he’s struck a chord here, and that wasn’t my intention, especially as I must say that I… well, I’m rather impressed with your work, and I was hoping to get to know you better.  Besides that, you need to take this training course, so why don’t we start over?” He held out a hand with an uncertain expression on his face.

“Very well- for Harry, I will put aside my qualms with your… personality. ”

Julian smiled widely.  “Wonderful- now, let’s begin.”

[Harry practices more Spanish with Nancy while Draco pretends to watch Star Wars again but really watches Harry adoringly.  Minerva smiles knowingly at both of them from her seat in the corner, working a knitting pattern Harry recommended.]

The treatment went pretty well, and although Harry did suffer a low fever and some muscle aches following the treatment, he was feeling better by morning and not even overprotective Minnie, Draco, and Sev could argue with Ted’s prognosis that he was free to go.  Severus finished his training course, passing with flying colours (the socialisation aspect, not so much, but Julian still said to contact him if he ever wanted to collaborate on research).

“You did great, Harry, we’re proud of you,” Minerva told her son as they flagged down a cab to take them back to the townhouse.

“All I did was sit in a bed for a few hours,” Harry giggled, rolling his eyes.  Severus snorted softly as well, although he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat.

“Be that as it may, we’ve organised a little treat for you, and for Snorty Snape over there, for finishing his course,” Minerva smiled at her son while Sev glared at his colleague.  “We were going to all apparate over to DC for the weekend- there are a bunch of museums in the muggle section and an interesting Magic Zoo and some more museums in the wizarding quarter.”

“That sounds really fun,” Harry agreed, as the cab stopped and he opened the door for Draco, who rolled his eyes at his boyfriend but pecked him on the lips before getting into the car.  Harry leaned his head against the blonde’s shoulder and dozed off until they reached the townhouse, where they told the others about the agenda for the day.

“Thank Merlin,” Pansy groaned.  “If I have to play Bad, Bad Leroy Brown on the banjo one more time, I will lose my fucking mind !”

“I like it,” Luna said.  “The banjo is great for summoning Gulping Plimpies.”  Ginny nodded fondly and pecked her girlfriend’s cheek.

The average wizard could take, at most, three people on a side-along, but that didn’t mean they were willing to let Harry apparate on his own.  

“Fred and George can apparate now,” Molly said, “so there’s really no reason for you to risk going on your own or try to strain yourself taking someone else, dear.  Between all the adult wizards, there’s enough of us to take all you children, Jean, and Dan.” Jean and Dan were, of course, Hermione’s parents.

“It’s really no trouble,” Harry said.  “The type of apparating Kreacher and I do is super easy.”

“No, Harry, that’s unnecessary.  I daresay nobody else wants to apparate with me anyway,” Severus said, “so I’ll take you.”  

“Alright,” Harry conceded.  “I can see all never win against all you overprotective saps.”

Harry really rather thought the squeezing sensation of side-along apparation was much more draining than apparating on his own, but he didn’t say anything.  Nonetheless, Severus put a soothing hand on his arm and offered him a stomach-soother potion, which he took gratefully, handing back the phial just as the others all popped in behind them.

The apparation point was right at the edge of wizarding DC, so they decided to start with the muggle museums.  They started with the National Museum of Natural History, and they all pulled Pansy out of the exhibit with the Hope Diamond before she decided to test her skills by taking it.  Their experience with that museum ended about an hour later, when they were looking at the Crystal Skull , which was gathering speculation at the time- it was from an anonymous donor and supposedly had pre-columbian origins.  Harry took one look at it and turned around.

“Nope, nope, nope,” he said.  “That is some wonky Mayan death magic, and it is not happy about being here.  We’re done now- next museum.”  The others, unused to seeing the teen so insistent about anything, were more than willing to nope the fuck out as well- if that shit could scare a kid who faced Voldemort and survived a duel with him despite being half-dead from pneumonia and a broken leg, then they wanted to be nowhere near it.

They skipped the National Museum of the American Indians, because, as Harry put it, “if they can’t even manage the cultural courtesy of calling them Native Americans, the rest of it has got to be utter bullshit as well.”  They also skipped the Postal Museum because there were no owls, so what was the actual point?

Their next destination ended up being the Air and Space Museum.  “Amazing- the things muggles can do!” Arthur Weasley exclaimed repeatedly, too blissfully happy to be aware of all the strange looks he was getting.

“Are you enjoying being out of the hospital for the day, da?” Fred asked, which essentially took care of the problem, although it did earn him a glare from his mother.

“You know, this museum focuses less on technology than it does on the Cold War- bullshit establishment propaganda,” Pansy complained.  Ron, holding hands with Viktor and examining a World War I propeller, rolled his eyes at her.

“Can’t you enjoy anything without criticising it?”  Pansy thought for a minute.

“No.”  She shook her head decisively.  “Well, I can enjoy Harry being adorable, and kissing Mia and Millie, but everything else in this dreary plane of existence is fundamentally flawed.”

“Careful, Pans, or you’re gonna get us put on the no-fly list,” Harry cautioned, only half-teasing.  There might not be anything for his mage senses to pick up here, but a conditioned awareness of his surroundings had already allowed him to spot three hidden cameras throughout various exhibits.  In addition, several people were casting distrustful looks at Malala and her hijab, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Fleur went off on someone. He was quite relieved when they called it a day on the muggle side and headed to the magical part of town.

“Look at this!” Hermione cried eagerly at The Museum of Unusual Magical Foci.  “Newt

Scamander’s homemade wand, made from Alihotsy bark he harvested himself, featuring a core from his favourite Thunderbird, Frank.”

“Forget about that-” Pansy squealed, pulling both of her girlfriends over to a different display.  “You can make weapon-based foci- look at this! An ancient Egyptian Was-sceptre used by female Pharaoh Hatshepsut, famous in wizarding circles for being a muggle-born witch and one of only a handful of pharaohs to have any true magical abilities.”

“Japanese war fans used by Chiyome Mochizuki’s ninja warriors.  It is a rather unknown fact that this foster home for women run by Chiyome during the era of warring states was actually a training academy for female ninjas.  Even more obscure is the knowledge that Chiyome herself and many of the war orphans she took in were actually witches, these traditional feminine weapons their foci of choice,” Ginny read from another exhibit.

“No prizes for guessing how América got those priceless artefacts,” Harry sighed.

“Colonialism and exploitation?” Pansy tried, not really framing it as a question.

“I said no prizes,” Harry reminded her as he nonetheless put a finger on the side of his nose (charades lingo for ‘yes’).  “Well, not for the Japanese anyway.”

“Now I’m depressed,” Ron sighed.  “Let’s go to the MagiZoo and look at the fuzzy animals.”

[Ron and Viktor share a churro, because there’s nothing for soothing the discomfort that comes with the knowledge of cultural exploitation like eating foods gained via cultural exploitation.  Also, they’re good dipped in chocolate.]

“Aww, look at da wittle crup,” Pansy cooed, watching the fuzzy little creature, distinguishable from the common yorkshire terrier only by its forked tale, as it yipped around its enclosure.  Meanwhile, Harry was talking down a runespoor, preventing the left and central head from trying to eat the right one. He had just helped the three work out their latest dispute when a Central American Horned Serpent came slithering through the aisles, followed by a harried zookeeper and being dodged by screaming zoo-goers.  It stopped happily when it saw Harry, and the brilliant sapphire-blue creature with the silver horns and the green jewel on its forehead slipped happily up to his shoulder.

“My jewel matchessss your eyessss; you are good human, I come with you,” she (for as soon as Harry had the chance to feel her core and hear her speak, it was clear to him that she identified as female) told him, laying her head on top of his.

“Um…” Harry hissed, as the zookeeper came up.

“Sorry, so sorry sir- this one’s always escaping.  Just stay still and I’ll grab it right off,” he stuttered at Harry as he continued to apologise profusely.  As he tried to grab the creature, she hissed at him and gave a slight warning lunge.

“No,” she hissed at him, although he couldn’t understand her.  “Thisssss is my human now; he isssss powerful enough for two familiarssssss, I already takesssss him.  You go away!”

“Well, this is a little awkward,” Harry said, scratching his neck as the horned serpent curled more protectively around him, releasing the serpentine version of a purr.  “She’s kind of, um, bonded with me?”

“What do you mean, he’s bonded with you?” the zookeeper asked, holding his head- this snake would be the death of him.

“No, she’s bonded to me,” Harry said.  “She identifies as female, and also apparently she’s just up and made herself my familiar, so there’s that…”

“Wait-” the man broke in.  “You speak parseltongue?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “Also, your runespoors want headphones so they can ignore each other more.  I told them I’d pass it along.” The zookeeper just shook his head disbelievingly.

“Well,” he said, casting the spell that allowed for detection of a familiar bond.  “I’ll be damned. He- she ,” he corrected when Harry glared and the snake hissed, “really has bonded with you.  Thank the bloody gods- your problem now, kiddo. Have fun.”

“I guessssss you’re coming home with me,” Harry told her.  “But you have to get along with my other two sssssnakes.”

“Coolsssss,” she responded.  “I’m Ssssssssapphire. I’m your bessssst ssssnake, but I’ll play nice becaussssse you’re my bonded now.”

“Alright,” Severus said, the first to break the astonished silence.  “Time to go back to the hotel now, before we’re smuggling back half the zoo.”

Chapter Text

Harry’s eyes widened as they stepped into the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel- it was just so fancy .  Sapphire poked her head out of Minnie’s bag, taking a discreet look around.

“I thinksssss I’m going to likessss it here.  Much more mi essssssssstilo,” she hissed happily, looking around.

“Sssshhh,” Harry hissed, adopting her dialect of parseltongue, which apparently included a lot of Spanish.  “Quita de hablar; no puedessss ser visssssto por lossss mugglesssss.” The pretty blue head descended back into the bag, and Harry had to push one silver horn a little further down, as it was still visible peeking out the top.

After they’d checked in, they dropped their bags in their suites (the adults had really gone all out for just a weekend in DC, but they all wanted Harry to have the most amazing vacations possible, since he’d had none at all for 11 years with the Dursleys) and headed down to dinner.  Harry felt Sapphire following them out, and turned to tell her that she had to stay in the room, since there were so many muggles around, but although he could clearly make out her presence with each of his mage senses, she wasn’t visible with his physical ones.

“I can turn invissssible with my forehead ssssstone; I can alsssso fly.  Thissss issss why we are better than the USSSSSSA serpents; we have more magic in la sssselva,” she told her bonded.

“That’sssss great and all,” Harry responded, as his invisible familiar cheerfully slithered onto his shoulder, “but can you pleassssse stick to one language or the other?  All this ssssspanglish, or sssspangletongue, or whatever thisssss is isssss making my head hurt.”

“Ayyyyy, amigo, I’m sssssspeaking the ssssssame way I alwayssssss do; your parsssselmagic is jussssst interpreting it like the sssssspanglisssssh.”  Harry had a feeling he knew why the zookeeper was so happy to pawn her off. And yet, she was growing on him- kind of like a fungus on a tree trunk, but he liked her nonetheless.

Harry and Draco were having an animated conversation about the visit they were all going to make to the International Spy museum the next day when he spotted Sapphire’s glowing magical outline take to the air and inch towards Uncle Sev’s plate.

“Sssssaphire, get back here!” Harry ordered in his sternest voice, which wasn’t very stern, try as he may.  “You can have sssssome of my chicken.”

“Sssssorry chamaco, I like the ssssteak,” she responded, Severus’ entire filet mignon disappearing down her gullet as the man started back with a curse.

“Bloody hell- you just had to get picked by one of the invisible ones, didn’t you?” he groaned, watching as his baked potato followed the steak.  Luckily, there were no muggles watching closely enough to see as his dinner apparently ate itself.

“Sorry Uncle Sev- I tried to stop her,” Harry said remorsefully, proffering his plate towards the man.  “You can have my chicken, if you want?”

The man’s expression softened.  “No Harry, you eat it- you’re skinny enough as it is.  I’ll just go place another order. Don’t feel bad- it’s not your fault a delinquent demon-serpent attached herself irreversibly to you.  And you,” he pointed a stern finger towards his nearly-empty plate as the last of his couscous disappeared, followed by a hissing belch, “we are going to have words later.”  The invisible snake paid him no mind as the liquid in the potion master’s glass of Merlot started to dwindle.  Harry rushed over and grabbed her as her horns started making a musical clacking against the glass that was beginning to draw attention to their table.

“You’re going back to the room,” he told her, using his best impression of an angry voice.  “That wassssss very rude of you.”

“Yay, it isssss the hour for napsssss,” she purred, paying no mind to the punishment aspect.

[Sapphire slithers into her master’s bed that night and promises to behave better so he won’t be stressed.]

Harry’s new familiar agreed to stay behind with no fuss the next morning, because while she would listen to nobody else, she’d decided that she would do everything possible to make Harry’s life easier after she saw how bad he felt that she’d eaten the batman’s food.  Besides, the hotel room had a fridge and a mini bar…

“Geez, Pans, take it easy; you’re packing more weapons than the displays’ll be,” Ron told the Slytherin at breakfast as she shoved another dagger into her expanded fanny pack.  

“Shh, Weasel- we all know you’re just grumpy we’re up so early.”  Harry chuckled as his best friend could think of nothing to say to that.  

“Mmmph,” Draco articulated as he came back from the breakfast buffet with a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee.  He set the eggs down in front of Harry and started dumping sugar in his morning beverage.

“Dray, luv, aren’t you gonna eat something as well?” Harry asked his boyfriend.

“Mmm, after coffee,” he grumbled.  Across from them, Aralynn laughed.

“Just like his mum, that one,” she said, pointing to her wife in the seat beside her, sporting a similar expression to her son.  Next to her sat Ginny, whose mother was currently preventing her from getting her own cup of coffee.

“You’re awake enough, dear,” she told her daughter.  “None of that for you.” Ginny pouted as she stole a pastry off Ron’s plate.  

“How many?” The lady at the ticket counter asked as the reached the museum.

“Um… a lot,” Sarah said, turning around to try to count them all, but the twins kept moving up and around and confusing her.  “Dammit, I’m a PhD, I can absolutely count… Fred, George- stand still !”  Eventually she managed to gather that there were 26 of them.

“School field trip?” the lady asked sympathetically, to which Sarah nodded with a smile.

“The name’s Bond- James Bond!” Harry giggled, grabbing Draco’s hand as they all piled through the doors.  They went to the James Bond exhibit first, of course, because they were travelling with a large group of teenage boys (and Pansy, who loved anything with weapons and characters who beat other character’s asses).  Hermione and Millicent were more interested in the real-life exhibit of Ian Fleming.

“Look!” Fred cried.  “It’s the Golden Gun- we have got to make something like that!”  Severus cast the twins worried looks.

Pansy was looking at Oddjob’s steel-brimmed hat with a concerning gleam in her eye (the last thing she needed was headwear that could cut people’s heads off , according to her friends) when a little girl of about five with her hair in a french braid came up to her.

“Hey lady- how’d you get those scars on your hands?” the pipsqueak asked, sporting a heavy Brooklyn accent.

“You really wanna know?” Pansy asked, leaning down.

“Yeah!” the little girl leaned closer, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement.  

“I was a lab assistant for Dr. No,” she whispered.  “The same explosion that destroyed his hands burned mine.  And you know what?” The little girl leaned in even closer.

“What?” she breathed, totally enraptured.

“I haven’t aged a day since.”

“Whoa….” her dark braid bobbed frantically as she touched Pansy’s hands reverently.

“Alma- ¡venga- soy demasiada vieja para esta mierda!” a distant voice called.  The little girl- Alma, apparently- rolled her eyes.

“That’s my abuela,” she told Pansy.  “I gotta go- but hey, when you take over the world one day, I want in.”  Then she turned and ran off.

“That’s my type of kid,” Pansy praised, and Viktor paled- there was another one !  Ron seemed similarly nauseated.  

The rest of the exhibit was similarly exciting- Viktor, remembering his transfiguration from the second task, was intrigued by the life-sized statue of Jaws (Jaws the villain’s sidekick, not the shark from the other toothy movie).  When they got to the Tarot cards that Jane Seymour’s character used in Live and Let Die , Harry gasped.

“Guys- those have real magic on them!” he whispered excitedly to his friends, crowding around the exhibit.

“Jane Seymour was a witch?!” Pansy exclaimed. “Wicked!”

[Their next stop was the interactive exhibit where you could crawl through the air vents, and Minerva made Severus go through first, to scourgify the vents so no dust or germs from other visitors could get Harry sick again.]

After they had lunch and wandered through the exhibit talking about real spies from World War II and the Cold War ( “more like the dumb war, ” Pansy had snorted), their final stop before the gift shop was the interactive activity detailing how to make your own cover story, and, needless to say, the kids were into it .

“I’m the dethroned tsarina’s daughter fleeing the revolutionaries,” Pansy exclaimed, “and my cover story is Moscow Burlesque dancer by night, but by day I’m an assassin bent on taking back my throne!”

“Damn, Anasthasia got dark ,” Blaise exclaimed.  “But if that’s true, then I’m the owner of the burlesque, but I was also the family bodyguard.  I help you kill the insurgents.”

“As long as by kill , you mean clean the blood of my swords between massacres ,” Pansy told him.  While they struck up an argument, Fred stroked his chin.

“My cover story would work a lot better if I had a doppelganger,” he said, before pretending to be very surprised as he saw George.

“Why, by George, there is a man who looks exactly like me!” he dramatized.

“Why, I am George!  What a coincidence!”

“We shall be the ultimate crime fighting duo- one of us shall fake our death, and then one of us shall always be doing something completely boring and normal in a crowded space while the other is taking out the enemy- foolproof!”

“I’ll be the innocuous pet shop owner, but it will double as a gambling den for the enemy.” Draco said.  “And Harry shall be my spy kitten, listening and reporting everything that goes on during their illicit poker games.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed.  “Codename: Sparky.” Harry glared at him before his eyes lit up mischievously as an idea dawned on him.

“And you’re the infamous lone wolf, Batman.  Grumpy chemistry teacher by day, grumpier superhero by night, using snark as his weapon of choice.”

Severus looked at his nephew.  “There are hidden cameras in your furballs.”

Harry pulled himself up and stood on tiptoes to try to look taller.  “You juggle peaches in the staffroom to try to make yourself look less dangerous so nobody catches your trail.”

“You wear a tiny little cape with a lightning bolt on it.”

“Yeah, well you-” Harry tried to come up with something to say next, but before he could, Minerva came over.

“All right, boys, that’s enough.  Time to go to the gift shop now,” she told them, chuckling and ruffling Harry’s hair.  Severus shot him a triumphant look, until Minerva reached up and ruffled his hair too. Then she just had two grumpy boys.

In the gift shop, Draco smiled as he found a plushie of Blofeld’s pure white cat and bought it for his boyfriend.  Across the store, Harry was doing the same thing as he bought Draco an obsidian model of Blofeld’s trademark SPECTER ring.  He even enchanted it so that it would tell the blonde via heat signals whenever he was in danger, hoping that this would help him worry less about him when they were apart (little did he know, it would actually have the opposite effect, and Draco would spend the first few days running frantically to Harry’s side if the latter so much as sneezed or stubbed his toe, as his boyfriend took even a slight warming of the ring as seriously as if it were a death threat.  A couple times he came when the spell hadn’t activated at all; instead his body heat had just warmed the trinket a bit and he panicked. Severus eventually confiscated it after a week when the blonde came bursting into their living room in the middle of the night. It turned out Harry had just gotten up for a drink of water and tripped over the tail of his dressing gown).

They spent longer at the spy museum than at any of the ones the day before, so it was just before dinner by the time they got home.  Harry took to his animagus form for a short catnap while Molly commandeered the kitchen, cuddling with his new stuffed animal, which turned out to be bigger than his animagus form.  Minerva took several (dozen) photographs of her sleeping little angel, and then several (dozen) more when his three snakes (who were still casting each other distrustful looks but had called a temporary truce for naptime) curled around him as well.  She felt so blessed as she discreetly wiped away a happy tear; she had the greatest little darling in the world.

Chapter Text

Harry was in his kitten form on the floor of their townhouse, batting around a ball of yarn while his three snakes chased the tail of it.  Draco was watching him fondly, scratching his ears whenever he came nearby. Leaning down to place a kiss on the little fuzzy head, he mused that Harry’s fur smelled like his strawberry shampoo.  He watched Harry’s serpents hissing and tussling with each other whenever their master wasn’t paying attention, but they were all niceties whenever he turned around, and Draco was glad that they at least played nice around Harry, who was much happier when everyone got along.

The doorbell rang, and because Severus was out on an errand and Minerva was upstairs working on her lesson plans, Draco got up off the floor to get it, kitten Harry nipping at his heels as he followed.  Looking through the peephole (because of course Minerva had given Harry all the overprotective mum talks about not opening the door for strangers, even though he didn’t need them, and of course Draco had been around to hear), he saw that it was Julian with a sealed box of med supplies, so he opened the door.

“Hey Draco,” Julian said.  “I’ve brought Harry’s injections by- is Severus around?”

Harry popped back into his human form, and Julian jumped back, nearly dropping the box.  “Hi Mr. Donovan,” he said cheerfully. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.” Julian just shook his head incredulously, because of course this child that Severus Snape cared so much about would be the world’s youngest bloody animagus.  “Here, I can put those over on the shelf over here,” he said, taking the box and trying to reach up on tiptoes to get it into one of the kitchen cabinets, eventually giving up and nudging it the rest of the way with a wandless levitation charm.  “Uncle Sev’ll be back soon; he went to pick some stuff up for a potions experiment. Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“If it won’t be an imposition…” Julian began.

“Oh, of course not,” Harry assured.  “It’s actually a pretty small group today; the girls are all at their YMCA activities, Cedric and Cho are on a date, all the other adults are doing a wine tasting all day, and everyone else has sessions with Sarah today, so it’ll just be M’na, Uncle Sev, you, me, and Draco.”

“Oh, lovely then,” Julian said, as Harry bustled around summoning ingredients from the fridge and pantry.  “Would you like any help?”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said.  “I really like to cook, although it took forever to convince Minnie I was doing it because I wanted to and not because I felt I had to,” he chuckled.  “And Molly usually commandeers the kitchen when we’re all together, so it’s nice when I get a chance.”  He waved his wand flippantly as all the vegetables started chopping themselves, and Julian had to work to keep his expression from showing his surprise- in the past five minutes, he’d seen that Harry had an animagus form at less than fifteen years old, watched him do a wandless, nonverbal levitation charm, and now he was doing multiple nonverbal spells at once as he worked at preparing lunch.

“You’re not a vegetarian or anything, right?” the teen asked him as he turned the stove on and set a pot of water on to boil.

“Nope, no dietary restrictions,” Julian told Harry, who smiled at him as he started searing thin slices of beef in a wok, simultaneously sending some gnocchi into the boiling water with a wave of his hand.  Freshly-chopped spinach popped itself into a different frying pan with a drizzle of olive oil, and fresh basil from a pot on the window (courtesy of Neville) received a quick augmenti to wash it off before it was julienned for homemade pesto sauce, which went on the fresh gnocchi, the spinach on the side before each plate was topped with three slices of medium-rare beef.  Draco’s mouth watered- he was going to be a well-kept man one day, that was for sure.

Minnie came downstairs, following her nose.  “Smells amazing, kitten,” she told her son

“I have to say I agree with that statement,” Julian said, and Minnie noticed that he was there.  

“Oh, hello Julian- I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.  Harry’s cooking tends to distract the mind from all else.”  Harry smiled brilliantly, blushing slightly as he put Severus’ plate under a warming charm, as the man was apparently running late.

“Yes, Nancy and Ted were swamped at work today, so I came by to drop off Harry’s injections for them.  After lunch I can show you how to administer them if you would like.”

“Of course,” Minerva said.

For a few minutes, there were only silence as everyone savoured Harry’s delicious food (and Julian quietly marvelled at the sheer amount of potions the small teen had to take with his meal).  Nothing else was heard until about five minutes later, when Harry picked up a piece of steak off his plate to toss to the three begging snakes at his feet.

“No Harry, you eat that,” the professor scolded him.  

“M’full M’na,” he protested.

“Three more bites,” she told him, and he rolled his eyes at her but picked up his fork again.  If she was trying to parent through all stages of development to make up for lost time, he’d allow her life’s small pleasures.  Draco tossed a piece of his meat to Nagini, who was resting with her head on Harry’s lap and looked cranky at being thwarted out of her snack.  Then Sapphire came up to the blonde’s plate and snatched another, and Du, unable to fly nor tall enough to reach the table, hissed loudly until Draco sighed and put his plate on the floor with a defeated look.  Harry, finished with the requisite three bites, slid his still half-full plate to his boyfriend, who insisted he take another bite of gnocchi before accepting it gratefully.

The door opened noisily as Severus crankily strolled through, hands empty of anything except for a bag from the grocery store (filled with Pop Tarts, obviously).  “Stupid Apothecary didn’t have what I need,” he grumbled, before his eyes widened as he saw Julian.

“Hey Uncle Sev- your plate’s over there,” Harry told him cheerfully.  “Julian came by to drop off some injections, and I thought he might wanna stay for lunch, so I invited him.”

“That’s our Harry,” Severus said, looking a bit flustered but nonetheless rolling his eyes.  “Taking in all the strays.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think cranky is your constant state of existence,” the other man told him, mouth quirking in a smile.

“Only beginning to?” Harry asked cheekily, an impish smile on his face.

Severus playfully tweaked his ear.  “Did you take your potions, brat?” This time it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes.

“You know I did,” he told the man.  “Even if Minnie wasn’t constantly harping on me as well, I’m sure Draco would.  Besides, I’ve accepted that the aftertaste of those awful things is pretty much a permanent feature of my life now, so it’s not like I’m trying to get out of taking them.”

“And yet, that is something you would do,” Severus said.

“What, moi? Not following doctor’s orders?  I think you have the wrong bloke,” Harry cried dramatically, feigning hurt.

“I could see you as a difficult patient,” Julian teased, and Harry put a hand over his heart.

“Et tu, Brute?”

Severus watched Harry interact easily with Julian and felt a pang in his chest that he had to admit (if only to himself) was jealousy.  He’d had to work very hard to build a relationship with Harry after the way he’d treated him first year, and that was his own fault, admittedly, but it was still difficult to see this other snarky potions master ingratiate himself easily with his nephew.

But as he thought about it more, watching Harry enthuse about some article of Julian’s, he realised that it was nice that the teen felt comfortable around him- strangers still made him somewhat wary, and he noticed that he hadn’t seen Harry’s big green eyes tracking all the potential exit routes or his hands fiddling nervously with the cuffs of his sweater like he usually did around new people, he figured he ought to try to get along with this strange American potioneer who at that exact moment had Harry giggling at some corny joke about Venomous Tentacula.  He would attempt to get along with the man… after he finished lunch, because he was in no rush to temper the delight of Harry’s cooking with… socialisation .  

“Alright Harry,” Julian said.  “I’m going to administer the first injection so you can all see how it’s done, and then I should probably stay awhile, just to monitor the effects and make sure everything is alright.  The intravenous treatment went pretty well, but since this is the first time you’re receiving this part of the treatment, I’d like to make sure there are no unexpected complications.”

“M’kay,” Harry agreed easily.  “And after that, you can stay for dinner, if you’d like.  The other parents will still be on their wine tour, but everybody else is coming back with Sarah.  

We were just gonna order in or something.”

“Sounds better than ordering takeout and eating alone in my apartment,” the doctor/potions master chuckled as he prepared the needle.  He waved Severus and Minerva over to watch as he inserted it in Harry’s upper arm.

“See, just like a vaccine,” he told Harry, who shrugged with his free shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know; I’ve never had one,” he said, and Julian felt like slapping himself- of course he hadn’t; he had an immune disorder.  And from what Julian had seen from his files as a consultant on the case, it was due to chronic abuse.  Nancy had positively railed in an angry mixture of English and Spanish about how the Dursleys had probably kept him from being vaccinated in the hope that he’d get sick and die.

“Right, of course- I’m sorry buddy.”

“Eh, it’s fine.  Nothing to apologise for.  So this is what Dudley always railed about when Petunia took him to the doctor’s office… huh, I barely felt it.”

“You’re a trooper, kiddo,” Julian patted him.  “So, since you can’t have bandaids with your latex allergy, I’m gonna have to wrap this up with some gauze.  All I have is batman gauze though- I came from a morning full of appointments with little kids.”

“That’s okay- I’m sure Uncle Sev would like it too,” Harry said, smiling cheekily and sticking his tongue out at the man, who stuck his tongue out in return.

“Oh- and I almost forgot!  The allergy scan results didn’t show it the other day, but people with latex allergies should also avoid bananas and chestnuts- they are like avocados in being closely linked to latex allergies.”

Harry looked at him curiously.  “You mean bananas aren’t supposed to make the inside of your mouth feel all weird and itchy?  Or your nose run?”

Severus looked at his nephew and shook his head slowly.  “Oh Harry....”

“What- I thought it was like curry; you eat it when you’re all stuffed up and it helps clear everything out.  Plus, lots of things make your skin tingle- like balloons!”

“Harry, balloons have latex too…” Julian explained patiently.

“Huh- seems like the kind of thing they should have taught in primary school instead of making us play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder.   Nobody plays the recorder.  You can’t do Elton John on the recorder, at least not well.”

“Alright,” Severus said.  “So, in conclusion- no more bananas, and you would be very disappointed if we got you a recorder.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry warned.

[The snakes are all sunning themselves in the backyard.  They are also having a heated argument over who is Harry’s favourite.]

Julian sent Harry to lie down on the couch so they could watch him for any potential adverse reactions, and Severus tucked the blanket up around him and got him settled while Minerva tidied the kitchen (Harry was sent to rest immediately and prohibited from helping).  

“Here we go,” Severus said.  “We’ve got a blanket, some pumpkin juice,” he set a glass on the coffee table where Harry could easily reach it, “and The Empire Strikes Back .”  He clicked a button on the remote as the theme song began playing.

“Oh come on, the best Star Wars movie is Return of the Jedi ,” Julian said.  Severus looked at him in horror.

“You take that back!”

The other potions master looked at him impassively.  “I will not.”

Severus groaned exasperatedly.  “Harry needs to rest, so we will resume this argument at dinner,” he told the other man.  “Now, I’m going to go read my research publications.” He turned to flounce away.

“Comic books; he means comic books,” Harry told Julian as the other man picked up the remote to change the movie.

Severus turned at shot a look at Harry, although it held no real venom.  “Enough of your cheek, brat- it’s your fault that I need to know what happens to Gotham City in the first place.”

Chapter Text

It was a well-known fact amongst the group that if you put Harry on a soft surface, he was almost guaranteed to fall asleep, so when the other teenagers and Sarah came back from their YMCA activities and therapy sessions, they found him fast asleep on the couch, his mouth wide open as he snored slightly.   The Last Jedi was just finishing in the background, and Draco sat in the armchair nearest the couch, reading and stretching an arm out to softly stroke Harry’s hair.  Harry’s own arm hung over the couch, the batman bandage wrappings peeking out between the fringe of the blanket.

“Awww, how cute !”  Pansy cried, sniffling a bit- uh oh , emotional Pansy meant period Pansy, which meant…

“Ugh, if one more car fucking honks at me while I’m walking down the street, I’m gonna

start hexing some balls off!” Hermione ranted as she brought up the rear of the group, slamming the door closed.  She looked guilty when Harry, who she hadn’t yet realised was asleep, stirred awake with a little grunt.

“Whass’appenin’?” he slurred lethargically as he pulled himself to a sitting position, groping blindly for his glasses.

“The crazy train’s just pulled into the station, luv,” Draco told his boyfriend as he handed him the spectacles.  

“Mmmph,” Harry responded, still waking up.  “Where’s Uncle Sev’rs?” His question was answered when the man in question came through the door from the office, arguing with Julian.

“ Acksdale’s theory of temperature adjustment- I didn’t peg you for a fool, Julian, but now I might have to!” Severus was saying, gesticulating wildly.

“I mean, you have to acknowledge the benefits over Smithson’s- Acksdale’s theory allows for longer shelf-life of those brews for which a preservation charm would ruin the integrity,” the other man countered calmly.  

“Yes, but it completely ruins the composition- your potion might last a few days longer, but it’s a congealed mess that’s just a stain on the honour of the profession, I tell you!”

“A congealed mess that could save your life,” Julian said, still far calmer than the other man, a hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips.

“And what life, after I’ve debased myself so far as to turn to Acksdale’s theorems?”

Harry put a throw pillow over his face and groaned into it, catching the attention of the two men.

“How are you feeling?” Julian asked him.

“Yes,” Severus hastened to add.  “Any discomfort at the injection site?”

“A little,” Harry admitted, having passed the stage of thinking he could downplay his symptoms in front of an ex-spy.

“I’ll just take a look at that,” Julian hummed, unrolling the bandages and gently brushing a thumb over the affected área.  “Hmmm, some redness, but not abnormal for a first injection. The reaction should decrease over time until it ceases altogether.”  He went to grab another roll of bandages, but Harry tapped his elbow softly.

“Can you leave it off?” Harry asked.  “I don’t really like the feeling of them against my skin.”

“If we leave them off, do you promise not to scratch at it?” Severus asked him before Julian could agree.  Harry sighed.

“Just go ahead and put them back on,” he moped, defeated.  He had a much higher pain tolerance than any kid his age (or indeed most adults) had any right to, but next to no self-control when it came to itchiness.

“Here, I’ve got a salve I can dab on it,” Julian soothed, reaching for a phial.  “Your Uncle Sev might scoff at the fact I brewed it on an electric burner, but I assure you it is of the highest quality- he’s just stuck in his ways.”  The man in question scoffed, tried to come up with a counter-argument, was unable to do so, and then crossed his arms crankily over his chest.

“So, what’re we doing for dinner?” Neville asked while he used his new wand to water Harry’s basil plant.

“Chinese?” Ron asked, head on Viktor’s chest as they curled up in a bean bag chair in the corner.

“Sounds good to me,” Millie agreed, and there was a chorus of agreement from amongst the others.  Hermione, too, had no objections- even the crankiest of menstruating women love Chinese food.

“Remind zhem zat zhere can be no sesame oil,” Fleur called as Minerva went to the phone to place the order.  Harry privately thought there could be no chance of her neglecting to do that- he’d seen Minnie quietly chanting his allergy list like a mantra so she wouldn’t forget anything whenever she thought Harry wasn’t watching her.

“Has anyone seen the snakes?” he asked suddenly, realising they had left the room at some point while he was asleep.  He was about to extend his mage senses to look for them when there was a crash in the fireplace as three now-very-sooty serpents slid out of the ashes.

“Do I even want to know?” he hissed at his pets.

“We were all chasssssing the sssssame ssssssquirell,” Nagini said.  “It did not go assssss planned.”

“I can ssssssee that,” Harry responded, casting a cleaning charm on the three with the look of a fondly exasperated older brother watching a toddler do something silly- the same look many of his friends often gave him.  

[Kreacher has been debating telling mutt masters something very important; he’d held off because he was worried it might affect Sirius badly, but it can’t wait any longer.]

While the children dug into their food and switched through telly channels, Minerva pulled the rest of the adults aside.  “Come to my office,” she told them. “I want to discuss Harry’s birthday.”

She led them into the soundproof room and shut the door as Fred and George made orange chicken pieces float through the air to the amusement/exasperation of the others.

“So, I’d talked to Sarah and we’ve reached out to Nancy and Ted: we were thinking of doing a big outdoor barbecue surprise party,” she announced.  “All of you are, of course, invited.” She looked specifically at Julian as she said this, as she, Sarah, and Severus were already firmly established in Harry’s circle and he was the only new one.

“I appreciate that,” he smiled at them.

“Nancy and Ted volunteered to do food- apparently Nancy hosts a fantastic parrillada .  So that’s that taken care of, but we still need volunteers for decoration, putting up muggle-repelling wards and modifying them so that they won’t repel Ted, and of course for keeping the children occupied while we set up.”

“I’ll do wards,” Severus immediately butt in, as both other options sounded abhorrent.  

“I have an eye for decoration,” Julian remarked, although he mainly volunteered for that position because he felt the teenagers would probably be more likely to enjoy time out with Sarah, who they were more familiar with.  

“And I, of course, will be handling gifts since I have to do the shopping anyway, so if you just tell me what you would like to get for Harry, I will handle-” Minerva had no chance to say anything else, as the floo suddenly flared to life.

“Hi,” Sirius began without prelude, looking rather (forgive the pun) serious.  “You’re all alone, right? Remus and I need to talk to the adults.” He then saw Julian, who he recognized from Harry’s description in his last letter.  “Can we trust him?” he asked Minerva, wasting no time mincing words.

“Yes,” Severus broke in immediately, before anyone else could get a chance.  Even more surprising, Sirius looked at him and nodded.

“If you say so, Severus, I believe you.  So here’s the situation: Kreacher came to me yesterday looking very nervous, which was unusual.  He told me that… that he had something to say about R-Regulus.” Minerva gasped slightly, and Severus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise.  “He said that… before Reg di-died,” poor Sirius was trying very hard not to cry, and Remus had a supportive arm around him but didn’t try to take over the story- this was something his husband needed to do.  “He said that before he died, he-he’d given Kreacher a locket, asked him to destroy it. He- he’d taken a locket of… of Voldemort’s.” There was more surprised gasping, but nobody said a word as they waited for the continuation of the story.  “He… he’d changed his mind. He was working against his master from the shadows, and he’d died for it. He- Kreacher, hadn’t been able to destroy it, so he’d put it in a vault at Gringotts. He- when I came back, it took him awhile to trust me again, and I can understand that.  And then after… after he was afraid how I’d take it… that it would send me spiralling downward. He was worried about me- he’s a good elf.” Sirius smiled shakily and wiped his eyes, somewhere in the back of his mind marvelling at how much things had changed since he’d gotten out of Azkaban- but it was a good change, for the most part, even if the realisation about his brother was a lot to handle.

“That… that’s a lot to take in,” Severus whispered, and his distress, too, was understandable- he’d tried to protect Regulus, to the best of his ability, within Voldemort’s rank, and he was both shocked and relieved to find that this younger boy he’d worried about had turned out to have the same change of heart he had.

“There’s… something else,” Remus said, feeling it was okay for him to take over now that Sirius had had the catharsis of telling the truth about his brother, of hearing his own voice speaking it aloud.  “We went to Gringotts to get the locket and try to destroy it, but we were unable. Luckily, Harry had made quite an impression on Griphook, the goblin in charge of the Potter vaults, who has a rather high position at the bank, so the goblins were willing to help us.”  Julian’s jaw dropped, but no one else’s did- the remarkable things Harry did on a nearly basis made it so that they were relatively unsurprised by the fact that the goblins, a strictly secular nation outside of their business at Gringotts, had agreed to help wizards of their own accord with a non-bank matter simply because little Harry Potter had been kind to them.

“That is beneficial- they have access to magic and secrets and rituals that wizards have long since forgotten or rejected,” Severus pointed out.

“Yes, they were a great help,” Remus agreed, “and the miraculous thing is they would accept no payment for it.”  This time every face in the room expressed mind-boggling surprise ( damn, Harry, changing the very modus operandi of a species !).  Remus’ face, however, was heavy with a care-worn concern that he hadn’t carried since Harry removed the lycanthropy.

“They did some tests, and they found that the locket contained a soul fragment- of Voldemort’s.”  Every face in the room went ten shades lighter than normal.

“ A horcrux ,” Sarah breathed in revulsion.  “ He made a horcrux .”

“Not just a horcrux, unfortunately.  The locket- it contained only a quarter of a soul.”

“So…” Julian looked sick.

“He made more than one,” Remus finished.  “And we have no way to tell how many.”

Soon, Severus was on the floor on his hands and knees, throwing up his lunch.  This… this was just too much.  He’d served a man… a beast … who’d not only killed his best friend, and ruined Harry’s life (or at least set the wheels in motion) but to top it all off… he, he messed with the very fabric of life and creation.  And now that his mark was gone… there was no way he could even get back in, no way he could protect Harry…

“Easy does it,” Julian soothed, having at some point made his way to Severus’ side, rubbing soothing circles on his back.  “Here, try this.” He’d pulled a stomach-soother potion out of his pocket and handed it to the other man, who accepted it with a grateful nod.  Julian banished the mess before he took a deep breath in.

“We need a spy,” he said.  “I’ll do it.”

“What? No!” Sev cried, wiping his mouth.  “You- you don’t want to go in there.”

“Well, what else is there to do?” Julian asked calmly.  “You can’t go back- your mark is gone; you’d be killed immediately and your death would mean nothing.”

“How- how did you know I was…”

“A death eater?” Julian finished with a bitter smile.  “My father- he was an early follower of Voldemort’s. Before he started marking people, he sent my father to the US, to search for any sympathisers here and start building a base for his eventual world takeover.  When he came here, one of the first such people he met was my mother, and once they’d gotten married and had me, they continued their work. When he disappeared the first time, they decided to just stay here and continue the relatively safe, opulent life they’d created- they weren’t outright sympathisers, you see, and some even considered them pillars of the pureblood wizarding community here in America.  Luckily, Voldemort died before I was disowned for being a ‘blood traitor,” so I, as their son, should still be in good standing. It wouldn’t be suspicious for me to go and take the mark, and I would start with a significant advantage by virtue ,” he spat the word, “of my family ties.”

“You can’t,” Severus said.  “We cannot ask you to do this for us- it’s not your fight.”

“Except that it is,” Julian said.  “My parents supported him, helped him rise.  And what would happen if I just hid here? What if having a spy is the difference between defeating him or him achieving the worldwide reign of terror he so desires?”

“I should never have let Harry remove the mark,” Severus reproached himself.

“My gods, you’re an idiot,” Julian lamented.  “You made some bad decisions in your youth, and then you get a second chance, and you have people who care about you, and you’re regretting everything and beating yourself up because something unforeseen happened?”

“He’s right, you know,” Sarah added.  “You’ve paid your dues, Severus, and yes, you’ve done some things that are inexcusable, but you left that behind, and you risked a significant amount to do it, to even things out.  And in the past three years especially, you’ve grown, and you have people who care about you. Harry cares about you; Harry needs you.  What’s it going to do to him if you’re lamenting things we can’t go back and change?”

“Whatever I think about it, you’re right that it cannot be changed.  But that doesn’t mean we have to risk someone totally innocent in all this,” Sev argued.

“I’m making this decision for myself,” Julian said.  “Besides, you clearly have a way of removing the dark mark- and I’d venture so far as to say it’s something to do with Harry after all the remarkable things I’ve seen him do just today- so after we’ve won this, I can remove all trace of Voldemort’s magic.  And if, Merlin forbid, this war turns against us, you’ll have a man on the inside to help out- we will not lose this; we cannot lose this.”

“If this is your decision, we support you.”  This came from Sarah, who nodded to her friend in solidarity- this was a war, and they were all giving things up, but they were all gaining things as well- namely the joy of being a part of this eclectic family they’d built for themselves, with Harry James Potter at the centre, bringing them together.

Chapter Text

Eventually, although Severus put up a fight, it was decided that Julian would take the dark mark to be their spy, and they exited the office to find Harry fast asleep on Draco’s lap, Cedric, Pansy, Millie, and Hermione stoned and working through the party trays of leftover Chinese food, Ron and Viktor also fast asleep, propped up against each other, and all three snakes gorging themselves from the trays that weren’t being attacked by teenagers with the munchies.  When the rest of the adults stumbled in, drunk as skunks, from the wine tour, a recounting of what happened that night was enough to sober them up.

There was a lot to worry about once they got back to Britain, but for the moment, Harry’s birthday was in a week and they had a lot to do.  They’d rented out a park for the day so there was lots of room, and they were going to do a whole big shindig. Minnie had been shopping like a fiend all week, buying anything and everything she thought her son would like, making it difficult for everyone else to find anything she hadn’t already gotten him herself.  None of the other kids had been told about the party because they didn’t want it to accidentally get back to Harry, but they could all figure that something was being planned.  Harry, for his part, wasn’t really expecting anything or even thinking about his birthday, but if you’d asked him, he probably would have said he was thinking they’d do a quiet dinner in.

Julian went to The Party Store™, the biggest store in Chelsea, to get the decorations for Harry’s Party (and yes, it did need to be in caps, because goddamit, this kid deserved everything they could possibly give him ).  He’d figured, quite correctly, that Harry had never been to any sort of fun outdoor birthday party, and Julian wanted to get him a bouncy house and a slip n’ slide and a skeeball machine.  Yes, fifteen was technically older than they normally did such things, but he knew Harry would love it because he’d never gotten the chance to do it, and he knew Harry’s friends would enjoy it because he did and because, to some extent, everyone is still a child at heart.

He stepped into the store, and a little bell rang.  Before he even looked at the counter, however, he saw a little superman-themed cat sweater with a little cape, and it was the first thing he threw in his basket.  He bet Minnie hadn’t found that yet.  When he did look up, however, he was rather startled- perhaps it was the conversation of the other night, but he thought the man at the counter oddly resembled Sirius Black.  He shook his head, realising he’d been standing there staring, and stepped up to the counter.

“Hi, I’d like to rent a number of your larger items for a birthday party,” he told the man at the counter, who was wearing a name tag that said “Reggie.”

“Alright, which items would you like?” Reggie asked, and he had a British accent- Julian knew there was no way that something strange wasn’t going on.  He shook himself again- the silence had gone on a bit too long.

“Yes, um… I’d like a bouncy castle, and a skeeball machine, and a slip n’ slide, and you know what?  Throw in a rock climbing wall.”

“Oi mate, that’s quite a load.  You’ll need an employee to man all that,” Reggie told him, whistling.

“That’s no problem- might I request that it be you?”  When he got a funny look, he improvised. “The family throwing the party- well, most of them are British.  They’ve just picked up a couple Americans in my friends and I.”

“Alright,” Reggie shrugged.  “No problems there- I actually get a bigger commission when I man the machines, which is nice because my boyfriend just lost his job.  Rent’s expensive, y’know?”

“Yes, I understand,” Julian said, and although he normally didn’t get so intimate with shop clerks, he wanted to know more about this one that seemed so suspicious.  “What did your boyfriend do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Reggie shook his head.  “No, it’s fine. He was a Theoretical Physics professor at the local community college, but he got let go for being a little too ‘out there’- he believes that there’s a lot more possible than what we think, y’know, aliens and alternate dimensions and such.  Not sure I agree, but they found me fourteen years ago unconscious near Grand Central Station with no previous memories, so we’re crazy together.”

Julian had to bite back a gasp- 14 years ago, shows up with no memories… something was going on here, and he needed Sev to confirm it.  But he maintained a neutral face. “Hey, it takes all sorts, yeah? Anyway, do you think you could help me pick out the rest of the decorations I’ll need?  I volunteered for decorations, but I probably shouldn’t have- my personal style is more colonial Williamsburg than anything.” Reggie laughed a little.

“I feel like I know the type, but I can’t remember from where- happens all the time; neurologists can’t make heads or tails of it- I’m not really sure why I’m bothering you with my life story, actually…”

Julian laughed.  “It’s fine, buddy- I’m an immunologist, and I work largely with kids, so I guess I’m just used to trying to get people to talk to me.”

“That’s… really cool, actually.  So, what colour scheme were you thinking for the party?”

[Harry bakes cookies to cheer Minnie and Sev up; they’ve been really tense the last couple of days, but they won’t tell him why.]

It was the day of Harry’s party, and Severus was setting up the wards, Nancy was grilling at a mind-boggling speed, and Ted was helping her by carrying plates to hold the food coming off, handing her the tongs, and generally being a wonderful husband/sous-chef.  Julian was setting up the streamers and the latex-free balloons that Reggie had helped him find while Minnie set up the gift table and kept the cake under a cooling charm so the frosting wouldn’t melt.

Sarah had taken the kids to the Chelsea Market to keep them busy until one, when the party started.  Harry’s eyes were wide as he looked around at all the different markets and food stands- the mind healer loved that about him, that despite his maturity and past trauma, he never seemed to lose that sense of wonderment and curiosity.

“Look at this!” Pansy called, dragging Harry, and by extension Draco, whose hand he was holding, over to a wood-carvings stall, the creator a sweet, wizened old muggle woman working a piece of black walnut wood into a little swan.

“They’re very lovely,” Harry told the old lady, fingers ghosting over a carving of a siren in an upright position, tail held out behind her.  He saw a dragon carving that looked rather like a horntail and sent a mental picture of it through his bond to Lily, whose sentiments were something along the line of “you absolutely must have that.”  Harry was always being given pocket money by Minnie, most of which he just socked away (his childhood having honed in him a sense of thriftiness), so he picked up the dragon very carefully.

“How much for this one?” he asked.

The woman’s weathered brown hands momentarily ceased the careful, decisive movements with her carving knife as she looked down at him.  “For a polite little darling thing like you, ten dollars,” she said, a smile on her wrinkled face. Harry looked at the carving- it looked like it had taken hours of work.  Then he looked back at the woman, who was missing several teeth, and he put down a twenty.

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely as she wrapped the item, a soft look in her eyes as she put the money in a wooden box in the corner of the table.  

“Thank you, little one.  It’s nice for an old woman to see that people still appreciate the simple things, her old traditions.”  Harry couldn’t bring himself to point out that he was fifteen years old as of today, she was looking at him so fondly.

“My father taught me to carve, when I was a little girl,” the woman continued.  “He used to say that once, twice in a lifetime, you might meet a soul who could breathe life into a carving.  He was a funny old man,” she chuckled before coughing softly. “Yet he was almost always right. Here,” she said to Harry, handing him the now-finished swan.  “Take it, little one- so that one day you might breathe it to life.”

Harry looked at her, not quite understanding, but he cradled the little bird gently and put another twenty on the table, ignoring the old woman’s protest.  He smiled at her one last time before Pansy led him and Draco onward.

“Oh, those are nice,” Sarah told him as she saw his carving.  “We can come back here some other time, but I told Minnie I’d have you all back in time for lunch.”

“Okay,” Harry said, and didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that, besides telling him “happy birthday” that morning, nobody had mentioned anything about having anything special planned.  He gave Draco a kiss on the cheek as they reached the park where the party had been set up, which the muggles were all passing without seeming to see it, even those who were natives to the city.  Harry picked up the wards immediately and cast a curious look at Sarah, who just pulled him into the park.

“Surprise!” Minnie, Julian, Ted, Sarah, and Nancy called.  Harry’s friends quickly picked up on the happenings and joined it.  Minnie rushed forward to give her son a hug. “Severus is here too, he is just taking longer than expected to finish the wards- the old worrywort.”  Harry laughed and reminded his guardian she was just as bad.

“Wow- look at all this stuff!” Ron called, and Harry, who up until then had been too swamped with hugs, took a moment to really take a look around at all the activities.  

“A rock climbing wall!” Harry exclaimed, because even though much of the climbing he’d done had been to escape Dudley’s gang or Marge’s dogs, he enjoyed the actual act of climbing, and it was a fairly common sight on the Hogwarts’ grounds to see him up a tree, Du wrapped around his wrist or resting on top of his head as her master had his nose in a book.

“Yeah, you wanna try it?” Ted asked, and Harry nodded eagerly.  Reggie, who had been grabbing the harnesses from his truck just beyond the wards, suddenly came within reach of Harry’s mage senses (on an average day, he had them extended maybe 50 feet in any direction, which was the perfect amount for him- extending or withdrawing them from that point required more effort, but he was rather comfortable with this distance- it was as easy as breathing).  Harry started violently- the supposed muggle was positively inundating him with magic- besides what was very clearly a magical core, there was an obliviate and a magic-suppression spell, both of which had a very familiar signature, although whose he didn’t have time to parse out, as he was further hit with the sensation of the dark mark.  On instinct, he reached out with his own magic and pulled all the extra spells away, leaving only the magical core. Then the strain of doing so much complicated magic so quickly hit him as he crumpled to the ground, followed by Reggie, as Minnie caught him and a surprised Nancy catch the other.  Severus, returning from placing the last ward, came into the scene to see his colleague cradling an unconscious Harry, and he paled quickly as he began to rush to him. On the way there, however, he spotted the apparent cause of Harry’s condition being set gently against the ground as Nancy took his pulse.  He stopped so quickly he was certain he felt something crack.

“Regulus Black,” he croaked, voice barely audible.  “Mother of Merlin; he’s alive.”

Chapter Text

Sirius and Remus were having a rather subdued teatime when Kreacher suddenly popped in from… wherever he had been.  

“Little Master Harry is being in trouble- come!”  Then he grabbed them both by the hands and suddenly, they were gone.

It is a little-known fact that very powerful elves are sometimes capable of apparation overseas or other great distances, although it was tiring, and combined with the fact that most elves were never given enough leeway by their masters for long periods of time (unlike Kreacher, who was essentially the true master of the house), it was rarely ever done.  Which was why it took Remus and his husband a moment to gather their bearings when they suddenly landed in a wide open space where there was warm sunlight (both warmth and sunlight being rather uncommon in Britain) and various copses of trees surrounded by gentle, rolling hills.  Farther off, the sounds of traffic, people, and other things common in large cities.

“Little Master Harry!” Kreacher cried anxiously, running towards where Ted, Julian, and Severus were anxiously tending to a still-unconscious Harry, as it hit the two men that they were in New York.  Sirius, feeling rather useless in the situation, cast a look around at what he could see was meant to be Harry’s birthday party, with a cookout, a bouncy castle, a rock climbing wall and… no, it couldn’t be- he… he had to be seeing things.

If he was seeing things, then so was his husband, because Remus gripped his hand tightly.  “Sirius- is that…?”

“What the hell is going on?!” Sirius cried, looking from the man that looked an awful lot like his long-dead brother and back to his godson.

“We need Harry awake to tell us everything,” Julian said, helping another potion down Harry’s throat and feeling his pulse.  “Either him or… well, the currently knocked-out man we have good reason to believe is Regulus Black.”

“Oh my god…” Sirius groaned, a hand on his head as Remus sat him down so he wouldn’t faint.  Kreacher, who had just looked up from Harry long enough to realise what was going on, squealed and swooned, and Severus caught him and set him down.  

“If everyone else could please remain conscious, that would be a great help,” he muttered, wiping a hand across his sweating forehead.  The other adults and children watched in silent awe, but Molly was the first to recover as she stepped forward to take the little elf, Sarah close behind as she pulled various smelling salts out of her purse (because she was cool like that).

There was a groan from one of the patients, and it turned out to be Regulus, and Sirius pulled himself up as quickly as he could, toddered a little from a head rush, and stumbled to his brother’s side.  As Regulus opened his eyes, they widened.

“Siri… wha- what the hell happened?”  Padfoot choked on a sob- this was definitely his brother.

“I was hoping you could tell us that, Reg,” he managed to get out.

“I… you’re gonna have to give me a minute- I’ve got fourteen years of memories living as a muggle shoved up against the last thing I remember before that, so it’s a little much.”

“Dumb…” Harry groaned, finally stirring.  “It was, the magic… Dumb- Dumble…”

“Shh, Harry, don’t strain yourself, just take it easy,” Minerva urged her son, helping him gently into a sitting position.  She quickly conjured a glass and filled it with an augmenti charm, and Harry drank greedily.

“Dumbledore,” he finally managed.  “It was Dumbledore’s magic I felt- there was a magical suppression spell and a really strong obliviate, and then there was the dark mark, which obviously was Voldemort’s,” Regulus flinched slightly at the name.  “And I pulled them all out- sorry if it was a little much,” he said to Reg, who just gaped at him.

“Too much for me ?  Damn, kid, how the hell did you…?”

“Reg, this is my godson, Harry,” Sirius said proudly.

“Harry… little Harry Potter… Lily and James Potter’s kid?  Wha- where the fuck is V-Voldemort, and what… I’m sorry… I have memories of the last fourteen years, and they’re mine, but part of me is also still thinking it’s fourteen goddamn fucking years ago, and just… what the fuck?!”

“Muggle living’s obviously been great for your vocabulary,” Severus drawled, but he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Ha ha, Sev… just please update me on what’s going on- did they defeat the dark lord?  Are we safe? How did a tiny little kid pull all those advanced spells and curses out of me- one of which was the motherfucking dark mark?! ” Regulus demanded.

“It’s kind of a long story…” Harry began.  “And I’m not tiny!”

[Luna feels the story of everything that has happened with the Voldemort situation in the last fourteen years could use a banjo accompaniment.]

“Damn…” Reg whistled when they finished updating him (they’d left out talking about the Dursleys, sticking mainly to what had been going on with Voldemort while assuring Reg that they had just managed to destroy the locket).

“So Reg, you owe us an explanation now,” Sirius prompted his brother.  “What happened to you- how are you alive?”

“I found out that the dark lord was making horcruxes- I don’t know how many, but I found out that the locket was one of them, and I figured out where it was- in a cave, below a cliffside, surrounded by water.  I took Kreacher with me,” he nodded appreciatively at the elf, who was now rushing frantically back and forth between Harry and Regulus, making sure both were okay. Harry, seeing his struggle, stood up and tried to wobble to Reg, but still fairly weak after such significant magic used so quickly, he stumbled.  Kreacher began to panic again, and Harry just had him pop them both over next to Reg so that at least he could do all his panicking in one place.

“Anyway,” Regulus continued, watching the elf with slight amusement sparkling in his eyes, “Kreacher and I went to the cave.  We had to swim there from the cliffside, and then take a little boat across a lake of Inferi,” he shuddered, and Kreacher with him.  “Those are reanimated corpses,” he explained for the benefit of the students, and Harry, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, and all the newly graduated students, who had already known, merely nodded, but the others shuddered or gasped in revulsion.  “The locket lay at the bottom of a goblet full of this bloody fucking awful poison that hurt like a bitch to drink, but I managed it with Kreacher helping to make sure I finished it. But I flailed a bit and accidentally brushed the water, which brought the inferi to the surface.  They were dragging me down, so I told Kreacher to take the locket and go, and to find out how to destroy it.” Kreacher was sobbing openly now and offering agonised apologies as Harry held him on his lap and whispered soothing words. Regulus patted the elf on the head as well.

“It’s not your fault, Kreach.  You did everything you could, even when it nearly killed you to leave me- you’re a good elf.”  Kreacher sniffled but his sobs slowly began to quiet.

“So where did it go from certain death to you being, well… here?” Sirius asked his brother.  Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I was getting to that, Siri… Merlin’s saggy left nut, you were always so impatient.”

“Ah yes… an unfortunate quality inherited from mother dearest ,” Sirius muttered sarcastically.  “At least I didn’t get her nose.”

“Bloody unfortunate bastard that would be, with that big-ass honker,” Regulus agreed, his posh British accent sometimes fading to sound more American after all the time he’d spent there.  “Anyway, I thought I was done in for sure, what with being dragged under by the inferi and all messed up from that potion, but suddenly Dumbledore’s phoenix was there pulling me out, old Dumbles behind him looking none too pleased about it.  But then the bird healed me, and I guess the old goat didn’t want word getting out about the horcruxes or thought I might defect back or some nonsense like that, because suddenly I was being hit by an obliviate and then next thing I remember I somehow woke up in Grand Central Station in muggle jeans with a tattoo I had no idea how I got and the mother of all headaches.”  He looked at his arm where the dark mark used to be, marvelling at the clean, smooth expanse of skin. “There was a wallet with a driver’s license that said Reggie White on it, which really was an unfortunate choice of identification, as I learned quite quickly that I did not know how to drive.”

“Reggie White?- this Dumbledore’s an odd duck,” Julian remarked with a bemused expression on his face.

“He’s a dead duck, when I’m through with him,” Sirius growled, looking rather like a wild dog at the moment, even though he was fully human.  “Kidnapping my brother and sending him to another country- what the fuck ?!”

“You’ll have to land a shot at him when I’m done,” Minerva asserted, clenching her fists.  Then she looked at her son, who was looking rather peaky.

“Here, darling, we can plan the headmaster’s demise later- it’s past time for you to eat something,” she said, filling a plate from the food table and handing it to the teen.  Harry, who was beginning to feel rather hungry after all the magic he’d done, dug in ravenously, and everyone was surprised that he managed the entire plate- a rare occurrence for him.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Regulus suddenly broke in.  “It’s your birthday party, and I see I’ve good and interrupted it.  I’m still a party planner, technically, so anything you want, I’m your man.”

“S’okay- I kinda went and messed with your head a bit there, so I suppose it was more my fault than anyone’s.  But I would really like to have a go at the rock wall?”

[It took Harry almost an hour of bartering with the many overprotective adults before they let him get up, and they watched with bated breath while the teen climbed, but he did brilliantly.]

“Damn kiddo, it’s pretty rare I see a climber like that,” Regulus said as they packed up the equipment after the party was over, the cake eaten and the gifts open (Harry had not been so amused by the cat sweater, but everything else in his literal mountain of gifts, like a new set of potions scales and a new broom-care kit, had pleased him immensely).

“Thanks,” Harry told him with a smile as he helped him coil ropes.  “I like doing it- when you’ve gotten up high enough and you’re closer to the sky, you can almost forget that you can’t fly without a broom.”

“Fly- oh fuck, that’s hilarious.”

“What?  I’m not quite following…” Harry said.

“Right, sorry lil cuz- can I call you that?” he waited for Harry to nod before continuing.  “You know how the Blacks all have constellation names?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry confirmed.  

“So my boyfriend, his name is Cygnus, after the constellation, and I just suppose it’s pretty funny that I fell in love with another constellation, even though I didn’t remember anything,” Regulus finished, and Harry gasped suddenly, pulling the carving of the swan the old woman had given him out of his pocket.

“Earlier today, just before the party, I met a wood carver in Chelsea market- she gave me this carving and told me that I would be the person who ‘would bring it to life,’” Harry explained.  “And I know she was a muggle, because I didn’t feel any magical core, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I get this and then meet you a half an hour later, a long-lost relative who has a boyfriend named after the swan constellation,” he finished, handing Regulus the little bird.  “I think you should have it.”

Regulus swiped at his eyes, which were tearing up slightly, as he carefully pocketed the carving.  “I… you’re a good kid, Harry.”

Harry smiled at him.  “I’ll finish coiling the ropes- go talk to Sirius.”  He’d noticed how Reg had been casting anxious looks at his brother, as they clearly had a lot to talk about they hadn’t addressed yet.

“Thanks Harry,” he said, walking towards Sirius.

[Voldemort has another cold, and he’s rather a whiny baby about it.]

Sirius saw his little brother coming over, so he gave Remus a quick peck on the lips and squeezed his hand before going to meet him, pleased he had such a supportive husband who was there for him while still knowing when there were things he needed to tackle on his own.

“Hey Reg,” he said, and somehow two simple words seemed to convey all the emotional tension hanging in the air, as well as the bittersweet feelings of seeing each other after so much pain- for Sirius, coming to terms with his brother’s loss, then his innocence, and having mourned him only to find him again; for Regulus, the pain of losing so much time, and of having spent so long thinking he would never get his memories back or find his family, only to be pulled back so suddenly that despite the fourteen-year-interim period, it seemed only yesterday that he’d made his peace with his certain death.  

“So, you finally got some sense in that thick head of yours, huh?” Sirius started, aiming for levity.

“Yeah- took awhile, but I came around.  You gotta understand, Siri, that I’m not strong like you- I couldn’t find myself in rebellion like you did, so I… I did what mother and father wanted, to stay safe.  And after a time, it’s like I’d tricked myself into feeling that way too- I’m not trying to excuse my actions, because they weren’t right. But I.... I did change, in the end.  I don’t believe any of that stuff anymore.  I mean, I’m dating a muggle- hell, the last fourteen years, I thought I was one.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you Reg- for a long time, I was furious with you- furious for getting in with that crowd, and then for not realising what you were really signing up for and getting yourself killed, and it wasn’t until last week that I found out you actually died… or, well, nearly died, I suppose, actually trying to stop Voldemort.  But I think I forgave you a long time before that, if I’m being honest.  I… I didn’t wanna tell you this in front of everyone, but Wormtail wasn’t supposed to be the secret keeper- I was, and nobody knew we changed, because I was so sure it would be safer that way.  So when James and Lily…” Padfoot had to stop to wipe his eyes before continuing.  “Well, everyone thought I did it- I… I spent thirteen years in Azkaban, Reg.”

“Bloody fucking hell!” his brother gasped.  “I… I’m so sorry, Siri. Sounds like you had it rougher than I did.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Sirius confirmed, “but while I was there, all the stuff I’d repressed for so long came back up, and I remember how bad it was, growing up in that house, and how hard it was for both of us… we just manifested differently.  I’ve done some pretty fucked up stuff too, Reg. I mean, there was that thing sixth year, and even if Severus really deserved to be treated that way, which, I mean… he wasn’t exactly a bed of roses to deal with, but we should have been better to him.  But even discounting that, that was a shitty thing to do to the love of my life, and it was just the worst of many shitty things I did. You’re not the only one they fucked up, Reg. We… maybe we can start from here?”

“I’d like that,” Regulus agreed.  “So, you and Remy got married?” he stated, looking at the wedding ring on his brother’s hand.  

“Yeah,” Sirius said, smiling goofily.  “He’s a saint for putting up with me, honestly, but he’s my saint.”

“I feel the same way with Cygnus, my boyfriend,” Regulus reminisced, as Sirius chuckled at the fact he’d found another constellation to pair up with.  “But we’re just two broken souls patching each other together, at the end of the day.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said.  “So- are you thinking of coming back to Britain, now that you remember?”

Regulus stroked his chin as he thought.  “I’d like to,” he said. “I mean, I have to talk to Cyg, but he just lost his job and I think we’re both sick of New York.  His family is from Canada, but he never really talks to them either. They aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

“Hear, hear!” Sirius called sardonically.

“I don’t know where we’d stay, though,” Regulus worried.  “I mean, until we find jobs. I had no record of a degree, and with my job not paying as well as Cyg’s used to, we’ve kinda been burning through our savings.”

“You can stay with us,” his brother offered immediately.  “We redid the old place, and you don’t even feel like you’re in the same house anymore.”

“You finally made the old jailhouse livable, huh?” Regulus whistled appreciatively.  “How’d mummy dearest react to having her portrait taken down?”

“We had to bring in a cursebreaker from Gringotts to get her off- Bill Weasley, you know Molly and Arthur’s first son, yeah?”  Regulus shook his head in confirmation- he knew of him, at least, although last he remembered the kid was just beginning his Hogwarts education.

“Bet that was fun,” Reg teased.

“ Oh yeah - she was screaming invectives the whole time; once we finally got her off, I just set her right on fire- behind the day Harry was born and my wedding day, that was the best day ever.”

“God, your wedding day- it’s hard to process that, honestly.”

“I know,” Sirius laughed.  “Never thought I’d tie myself down, did we?  Or rather, never thought poor Remus would relinquish any possible escape route.”  They both smiled.

“Anyway, speaking of men, I’d like to meet yours, if he wouldn’t freak out about magic,” Sirius told his brother.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘freak out,’” Regulus laughed.  “If your definition includes delighted screeching and a frenzy of scientific curiosity, then I’m afraid he will.”

Chapter Text

“Just wait out here while I introduce the topic,” Regulus told the nearly thirty people and an elf outside his apartment (they were gonna need an expansion charm…).  “Then you can come in- he’s a little bit eccentric, just to warn you, but he’s wonderful .”

“Alright bro,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes.  “Stop standing out here with that goofy smile on your face and go get started.”

Regulus started out of daydreaming about his boyfriend and went into the apartment.   “Swan- I’m home!” he called. “And I brought party leftovers.” He came into the living room to find Cygnus nearly buried in papers, deep in some sort of research.

“I’m reading about the most interesting theory,” the sandy-haired man said, glasses askew on his big blue eyes.

“That’s great babe,” Regulus told him fondly.  “But have you eaten at all today?  Or taken your testosterone?”

“You had me do the shot before you left, remember?  And I had a granola bar, um… at some point- what time is it, exactly?”

Reg rolled his eyes.  “It’s five o’clock, luv, and put those away for a bit and have some dinner, yeah?  I have something I wanna talk to you about.”

Cyg looked up immediately- that was the tone Reg didn’t use often- something life-changing was about to happen. “What is it, darling?”  

“I… I don’t really know how to say this, but- how would you feel if I told you that I’ve done some bad things, in my past?” Regulus stammered.

“Honey- we’ve been over this.  Whatever might lie in your past, I love you for who you are now .”

“Even if I, say, joined a really messed up cult?”

“Would you go back to it, if you did?” Cygnus asked him.

“No, of course not.”
Cyg smiled, and Merlin, Regulus loved that crooked incisor.  “There’s your answer. Now, what’s all this about?”

“I… I remember who I was.”

A chicken leg rolled off the plate and clattered to the ground as Cyg jumped up.  “You do- that’s- what happened? Did you join a cult- what kind was it?”

“Before we get to that, I have to explain something else to you.  You know how I always tease you about your crazy conspiracy theories?”

“Of course.”

“Turns out I’m a huge hypocrite- I’m a wizard,” Regulus said bluntly.

“What?” Cygnus just wanted to make sure he’d heard right.

“I’m a wizard.  And I’ve got a wizard brother and batshit crazy wizard parents who hated non-wizards, or what we call muggles, and who are dead, thank Merlin.  And I lost my memory trying to defeat the master that I’d foolishly signed up to serve, who also hated non-wizards and anyone who didn’t come from a long line of pureblood wizards- those are what we call people whose families don’t have any non-magical blood.  And there are currently almost thirty wizards, three muggles, and a house elf outside our apartment.”

“None of them are here to arrest you, right?” Cygnus asked his partner in concern.

“Nope.”

“Then by all means, let them in.”

“Alright guys- in you get,” Regulus called out the door, and Sirius was the first through, casting an expansion charm on the living room.  Cygnus watched in fascination as everyone else piled through.

“Hi, I’m Regulus’ brother,” Sirius introduced himself.  Cygnus turned to stare at his partner.

“Your full name is Regulus?” he asked.  

“Yep, Regulus Arcturus Black,” his boyfriend confirmed.  

“Pretty posh for a man who dumps cereal into his mouth from the box and follows it with a glug from the milk carton.”  Regulus laughed at Cygnus’ (very true) observation.

“My parents’ would have hexed the skin off my bones for that,” he said, “which just makes it even better.”

“So, who’re your friends?”

“Oh boy, there are a lot…” Regulus, honestly, didn’t even learn everyone’s names yet.

“I’ve got this one,” Sirius said.  “This is my husband Remus, this-” he pointed to Harry, “is my godson Harry, his best friend Ron, his boyfriend Draco, Ron’s boyfriend Viktor, this is Fleur, her girlfriend Malala, Nancy and Ted Copple, Sarah, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Dan and Jean Granger, Philip and Petra Parkinson, Julian, Severus, Minerva, Cedric and his girlfriend Cho, Hermione Granger and her girlfriends’ Millie and Pansy, this little elf is Kreacher, Ginny Weasley and her girlfriend Luna Lovegood, and then normally we have a few more parents, but they all had to work or didn’t want to travel.”

“Wow… that is a lot of people in my living room,” Cygnus exclaimed.  “So- magic, how does it work- may I see some?” he was beginning to get very excited, his eyes alight with scientific curiosity.

“Er, okay…” Harry offered, taking out his wand and performing a quick lumos charm, which lit the room in a surreal blue-white light.

“Ugh… why’d we let Harry demonstrate?” Pansy complained, rubbing her eyes.  “His charms are always excessively powerful. Harry missed her griping, however, as he was currently being examined by Cygnus, who was poking at his wand inquisitively.  He was rather close, peering at the teen’s face, his arms, his ears, and Harry had to admit he felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny, even if it wasn’t ill-intentioned.  Luckily for him, the man caught sight of Pansy’s hands and moved to her.

“I’ve never seen scars quite like this,” he breathed, reaching out to touch one of the appendages, but instead, scarred fingers grabbed him by the collar and pulled the (rather tall) man down until he was eye-level with Pansy’s face.

“I get that you’re discovering a whole new world and all,” the Slytherin told him in a tight voice, “and that’s cool for you and all, but touch me again and I will hurt you.  Consider yourself lucky to have been warned.”  The muggle stepped back, embarrassed (and more than a little terrified).

“Er… I’m sorry- I just, I get very excited about these sorts of things, and sometimes I tend to forget social conventions- I have Asperger’s, you see, so I’m not the best with these sorts of situations.  Please don’t hurt me.”

“You’re forgiven,” Pansy sighed magnanimously.  “Just don’t let it happen again.”

“No worries there- there is no chance I’ll forget about that- you’re rather terrifying, you know.”

Pansy smiled and put a hand on her chest.  “Awww, that’s so sweet- I think we’ll get along just fine.”

[Regulus and Cygnus pack their apartment- everyone leaves for Britain in two days, so they need to get on that.]

Kreacher was still rather tired from the apparation, but luckily, even though all the townhouse bedrooms were full, they could put an air mattress in Minerva’s study and sleep there for the next two nights.  Severus had reluctantly lent them some clothes.

“Aerosmith, huh?” Sirius asked as he shuffled into the kitchen for a cup of tea, wearing one of Sev’s t-shirt and a pair of his pyjama pants.

“Harry got it for me,” the potions master said.  “And they’re a good band, so shut it, mutt.”

“Hey- I’m just surprised we actually agree on something,” Sirius shrugged, putting way too much sugar in his mug.  “I’ve been trying to get tickets for ages, but they’re sold out months in advance, and I can barely remember what I’m supposed to do tomorrow.”

Kreacher, coming into the kitchen to confiscate the sugar bowl from the lord Black, rolled his eyes.  “Kreacher will be getting the tickets- mutt masters would be royally screwed without Kreacher.”

“Nice word choice,” Sirius approved, trying to sneak one more scoop of sugar and getting a smack on the hand for his efforts.

“Master Regulus be teaching me American curse words; Kreacher likes them, although Kreacher must remember not to use them around sweet, innocent little master Harry.”

“I’m sure Harry already knows all the bad words, Kreacher,” Remus told the elf, an amused smile on his face.

“Shhh, little master Harry is being  a sweet little baby deer who must be protected from all the badness in the world.  Kreacher will be using his beating pan for anyone who be making him unhappy.”

“You’re a good elf, Kreacher,” Sirius told him.

“And you is being a satisfactory master, but you’s be better if you’s stopped trying to ignore Kreacher’s advice about no sugars before bed.”

[Harry’s snakes cuddle around him in his bed, and he sleeps peacefully.]

Severus triple-checked all the equipment for Harry’s immunoglobulin treatment- he was to be administering it today, and tomorrow they would go back to Britain, so he wanted to make sure he could succeed completely independently.  Julian would be coming back with them, so if there were problems there would be a more experienced caretaker, but Severus was determined to be able to take care of anything that came up in case the other potions master wasn’t available- especially because he would be spying, and Sev knew from personal experience that that could pull you away at odd hours.

“All set, brat,” he told his adopted nephew, pulling on a pair of latex-free gloves and swabbing the injection site before he put the needle in.  “I’ll be monitoring the treatment closely, especially since Minerva is staying behind to start packing.”

“You mean Minnie is staying behind to make sure Pads doesn’t destroy the house,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, that is what I mean,” Severus agreed.  “And that is why you are one of my best students.”

“Geez, Uncle Sev- outright praise?  Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”

Severus looked at Harry seriously.  “You know I wouldn’t allow myself anywhere near you if there was even a small chance that I was,” he told him.  

“You’re so bad at taking a joke,” Harry teased.

“I don’t joke when it comes to your health,” Severus stated bluntly.

“You big mama bat,” Harry chuckled, before yawning widely.  “Mmm, come snuggle with me Dray- s’cold in here.” Despite the fact that Draco immediately responded, crawling carefully into the bed on the side where Harry’s arm wasn’t tethered to a needle and curling around him like a koala bear, Severus turned the heat on as he went down to get Harry a jello from the hospital cantina.

He was only gone for five minutes, but by the time he came back, both boys were fast asleep, cuddled up so closely it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.  Severus’ photo album got several new pages that day.

Chapter Text

Returning to Britain was chaos; they’d picked up five more people than they had on the trip down, one new (very obviously magical) snake, and one house elf.  Needless to say, the customs officers required a lot of confundus charms.

“Kreacher has gone and fixed Master Regulus’ old room for him,” the elf was saying to the younger Black brother, practically bouncing around in his excitement.  “And Master Cygnus can stay there too; the bed is big enough for both masters and the silencing charms are already in place.”

“Um, thanks Kreach,” Reg said, blushing a bit as he rubbed his elbow with a sheepish expression on his face.

“He probably just wanted to prepare for the possibility that you’re as horny as your big bro,” Sirius told his brother, laughing and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Alright,” Severus broke in as their giant shuttle (driven by Dan Granger) drove to the nearest apparition point from the airport.  “Let’s try to be quick about all getting to our respective locations, so if you could please be ready to join up with the group you’re travelling home with, that would be fantastic.”  Mia and Pansy were going back to the Parkinson estate with their parents (who joked that they spent so much time together that the Grangers might as well just sell their house) and all those whose parents/guardians did not come on the trip would be going home with the Weasleys, from where they would be picked up.  Sarah was staying at Hogwarts while she looked for a house and office in Hogsmeade, as was Julian, so they were going with Harry, Severus, Minerva, Fleur, Malala, Victor, and Cedric (who had rented a house in Hogsmeade and for their gap year- roomies !).  “Harry,” Severus told his nephew specifically,  “I’m going to go ahead and have the house elves unpack your bags for you, since it’s time for your injection and I want you to lay down afterwards.”

“It’s okay- I can unpack my own stuff; the injections don’t bother me that badly and I don’t wanna make more work for the elves,” Harry protested.

“Don’t argue with the batman, Little Master,” Kreacher chastised him gently.  “Yous be needing your rest.” Harry sighed- he never won with all the people and creatures who insisted on parenting him.

[Hedwig feels her Harry comes home and immediately makes her way to his room to assure herself he is okay after so many weeks being watched by only the snakes (well, and the humans, but they were irrelevant, in her opinion).]

The floo connections were all opened to each other’s houses as everyone bustled around unpacking all their possessions and souvenirs (or, in Harry’s case, tucked tightly into bed with a glass of pumpkin juice and a plate of biscuits).  Mia and Pansy quickly got their rooms together thanks to their meticulously organized system of packing and storing their possessions, and they switched to the floo in the workout room as they practiced their knife fighting. Nobody could really hear much through the floo at the Weasleys, because there were so many people, but Ron could be seen pouting disconsolately in front of the fireplace, Viktor being unable to talk much as he and the other new graduates were busy fixing up their rental.  

“Hey babe, you feeling alright?” Draco asked as he stepped through the floo into Harry’s bedroom for the third time, trying to make it sound like a casual inquiry and not a panicked compulsion to check on his Harry.

“I’m perfectly okay, luv.”  The other teen didn’t even bother to look up from his book this time, but Harry’s three snakes (Du draped around his shoulders, Nagini laying across the headboard with her head resting on top of Harry’s messy hair, and Sapphire comfortably sprawled over his knees) gave him exasperated looks- they were trying to nap!

“Are you sure you don’t need anything ?” the blonde prodded, ignoring the glares of Harry’s reptilian companions.

“I’m fine, Dray- Hedwig already went to pick up the newspaper, and Sev keeps coming by to check on my arm.  And Winky’s brought so many snacks that I’d be screwed without the snakes here to help me eat them. If you’d like, you can go help Minnie nervously rearrange her office, but I’m pretty sure you still have your own stuff to unpack,” he said, shooting his boyfriend an amused glance, green eyes sparkling.  

“He does need to unpack his own things,” Narcissa reaffirmed, stepping through the floo behind her son and giving him an unimpressed look.  “Go back through and help Ara unpack, darling, or I’ll let Dobby bedazzle your wardrobe.” Draco paled considerably and nearly tripped over his own feet, hoping to save his favourite pair of jeans from Dobby’s sequin gun.  Harry laughed uproariously, barely managing to gather the breath for a “love you babe!” as the young Malfoy scrambled away.

“You’re a saint, Harry, you really are- Draco’s a handful,” Narcissa told the teen in the bed with a fond smile.  

“He is, but he’s the best person I could possibly have my hands full with,” Harry replied.  

“I’m pretty fond of him as well,” Cissa agreed.  Then her expression became more serious. “You’re sure you’re alright?” she asked him anxiously.

“Like mother, like son,” Harry rolled his eyes at her.  “Go be with your family; I’m fine.”

“Alright, alright; I’ll leave you in peace,” she laughed, gray eyes alight.  “But just for the record, darling- you’re family too.” She kissed his forehead quickly before stepping through the floo, leaving a smiling, blushing Harry with his book.  

[Fleur and Malala decorate their bedroom with all the beautiful things Malala brought with her from Pakistan.]

Harry had finally, four hours later, persuaded Minnie and Sev to let him out of bed to go say hello to Hagrid, and he was just giving the half-giant a big hug around his knees (which was as high as Harry could reach) when he felt Lily through their bond feeling ridiculously gleeful about something, and then felt something at the edge of his mage senses.  Looking up, he saw the flapping of great black wings as a dragon the size of Hagrid’s hut- his dragon- landed in the clearing in front of the forest.  Harry knew she had been growing in leaps and bounds- he could feel it through the bond- but seeing her in person, it was still mind-boggling to him that a four-month old dragon could be so large, so much larger than when he saw her at Easter.

“Hello Harry,” she told him gleefully.  “Mother says I’ve matured quickly and that I’m old enough to leave the nest now if I like, so I’ve come to my bonded- I live here now, to protect you.”  Hagrid didn’t know what Harry and the dragon were saying to each other, but he looked like he was about to faint from happiness.

“Ye old gods, she’s a beauty,” he boomed in wonder, and Lily preened at what she could clearly tell was a compliment.  

“Yeah, she’s great,” Harry agreed.  “Um, listen- you know how I told you about Lily, my dragon?  This is her, and she wants to live here now? Do you think that would be okay?”  In lieu of an answer, there was a great thump , and Harry turned around to see his large friend lying unconscious on the ground, the most enormous smile Harry’d ever seen stretched across his face.

Chapter Text

“Alright Harry, you promise you’ll be safe?” Minerva asked him the next day as she handed him a packed lunch.  

“Of course- I’ll be with Hagrid,” Harry smiled reassuringly at his guardian as she attempted to flatten his hair, something she knew was a lost cause and thus only did to release nervous energy, so it was a dead giveaway that she was worried about him.

“That’s what scares me a bit,” she admitted, gently stroking a faded scar under his chin from where Dudley had thrown a rock at him when they were five.

“Don’t worry Mins- Lily’ll be with us too.  And I don’t even think we’ll be gone the whole day.  And I know you have a monitoring charm on me- even with the help of the mage sense-suppressing potion, you’re not subtle- so you’ll know that I’m fine the whole time.”  He rolled his eyes as his guardian, caught red-handed, smiled sheepishly.

“Alright, alright- I’ll stop keeping you back now.  Love you kitten, have a fun day,” she told him, bending down to kiss his cheek.  She was so grateful that, if she hadn’t been able to raise him from the time his parents died, her son at least enjoyed spending time with her, unlike most fifteen-year-old boys with their parents.

“Love you mama,” he said, apparently unaware the title had slipped out as he grabbed his lunch and gave her a quick hug around the middle before running off.  Minerva stood there, gobsmacked. Thirty plus years of teaching, fighting in a war, and standing brazen in the face of it all, and a little slip of a teenager left her melting into a puddle with a single word.

[Viktor smiles fondly as he puts up a Chudley Cannons poster in his bedroom, right next to his favourite picture of him with Ron.]

Harry met Hagrid, fang, and Lily at the door to the Caretaker’s hut, and Lily gave him a big wet kiss with her forked tongue before Fang did the same, leaving him covered from head to foot with dog and dragon slobber.  He smiled and wiped it off his glasses before they all set merrily off.

First off, they stopped so Hagrid could feed the hippogriffs, and Buckbeak very gently gave Harry an affectionate nudge.  Ever since Beaky had accidentally hurt him back in third year, even though Harry made it clear to him that he wasn’t upset and didn’t blame him, the poor hippogriff felt rather guilty and had a special tendency to treat him almost as if he were made of glass.  The teen tried to offer him a bit of leftover bacon from breakfast, but found the proffered treat gently shoved back towards his own mouth, the look in Beaky’s intelligent yellow eyes telling Harry that the creature clearly thought that however much he’d eaten at breakfast, it wasn’t enough and he must eat this last piece of bacon.  Harry sighed and exaggerated his chewing motions before the Hippogriff gave him a pleased nod and went back to grazing, apparently satisfied.  

Harry collected a few plants that were good for potions ingredients and put them in the pockets of his jeans (which of course had an expansion charm on them), whistling pleasantly as they reached a herd of unicorns.  Hagrid stepped back respectfully, as did Lily, but the unicorns paid no attention to the half-giant nor showed any fear of the dragon as they affectionately rushed Harry, gifting him with nose nudges as the mares rushed to be the first to introduce their foals to him.  Unicorn mares tended to give birth in spring, so their were quite a few of new three-and-four-month olds, and Harry stroked their soft, velvety fur with delight as their tiny little tails swayed happily and they snuffled every inch of him they could reach, whinnying with joy.  The unicorns had also done their yearly horn-shedding recently, and Harry soon found his hands full of the old, highly valuable ones.

“Are you sure?” he asked them in awe, disbelieving that they would grant him such a high honour.

In answer, the lead mare just pushed her own horn more insistently into his hands.  Then she plucked a few tail hairs and added them as well.

“Thank you,” Harry breathed, almost tearing up at the incredible display of kindness.  Even Hagrid, who knew first-hand how amazing Harry was with animals (the dragon beside him being fair proof, and even that was among the more tame incidents of Harry’s prowess), was gobsmacked, his jaw hanging so low that his beard seemed like a furry piece of fabric with a large rip in the seam.  Harry didn’t see his expression, however, as he was very gently tucking the horns and tail hairs into his pocket.

After Hagrid was eventually able to extract Harry from the herd (who were very reluctant to let him go) they kept walking further into the forest.  They found a couple normal deer, who were more than happy to eat grass out of Harry’s hands, before Hagrid steered them to the left of a fork in the path.  

“I gots teh return summat to the centaurs- Firenze was kind enough ter let me borrow a couple a arrows last time I was a-huntin’ and my quiver ran out,” he said, showing Harry a couple of magnificently-constructed arrows, and Harry could feel them reverberating with ancient magic humans had long-since forgotten (or never knew in the first place).  He watched in fascination as they crossed into the centaur colony, which looked almost like a dated 17th century military encampment, with the buildings adjusted for the centaurs’ dimensions. There were a few female centaurs stirring cauldrons set over open fires, their hair loose and covering their bare breasts, their children chasing each other around.

“Firenze around?” Hagrid asked one woman, her palomino coat the same colour as her long blonde hair.

“He’s out hunting,” she said (female centaurs were far more prone to giving direct answers).  “You’re welcome to wait for him to come back; he should be here soon. Oh- and who’s this little one?” she cooed, spotting Harry.  

“Hi, I’m Harry.  I’m a fifth-year at Hogwarts,” he introduced, trying to politely tell her he was not little without coming across as pushy.  She looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, goodness,” she said.  “Here, come have something to eat,” she gestured to a large rock as she ladeled some sort of game stew out of her pot and into an earthenware bowl.  Harry knew it would be no use to tell her he wasn’t hungry, so he sat down on the rock and accepted the bowl with a small smile. Then she let out a loud whistle, and her own foals came trotting in, their faces smeared with dirt from their play, to receive their own servings.  They looked at Harry curiously. Lily, who couldn’t fit through the gate of the settlement, craned her neck, trying to get a peek at what was happening from a few hundred metres away.

“Mama, what’s the human doing here- why is it so small?” one of them asked, a little girl with blond hair like her mother, done up in braids, but a coat of bay, presumably from her sire.

“Shh, Peggy, don’t be rude,” the older centaur told her.  “Not all humans are as large as Hagrid- and it’s he , not it.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said, cheeks lighting up a bit as he slowly chewed the meat- rabbit, maybe?  “Bane gave the impression that you guys don’t really see a lot of humans around here.”

“Ugh, Bane,” Mama Centaur rolled her eyes.  “How do you know him?”

“I… I met him in the forest my first year, when I was serving a detention and Firenze rescued me from Voldemort.  He wasn’t too happy about it.”

“Oh, you’re that little one!” the woman cried.  “Well, I never… old mule made it out like you were causing all kinds of trouble- while it’s true we are certainly not overly fond of humans and tend to ignore most as long as they stay out of our way, there are few here who wouldn’t rescue a sweet little lost slip of a child like you trapped in the forest at night.  I’m sorry… where are my manners- I’m Laeiana, by the way.”

“Laeiana,” Harry turned the name over on his tongue.  “That’s very pretty.” Laeiana beamed at him.

“Thank you!” she said.  “When I was a foal, I hated it- it was so unusual for a centaur.  That’s why I tried to give my offspring more traditional names, like Pegasus and Bucephalus.” Peggy- Pegasus, presumably- rolled her eyes.

“I sound like an old lady, like a grand-dam,” she complained.  “I’m pretty sure nobody else has named their kid Pegasus since Medusa sprung the thing.”

Harry’s eyes widened.  “Wait- Medusa- she was like, real ?”

Laeiana laughed.  “Of course, dear. You’ll find that if you look hard enough, most of the old myths have a ring of truth to them.  Humans just like to pretend that their wands and their crystal balls and their science are better than the old ways.  One of the reasons we have such problems with them- so unwilling to open their minds, most of them. Something tells me you don’t have that problem though.”

“Er, I hope not…” Harry trailed off.  This day was turning out to be a lot more… illuminating (unicorn pun intended) than he thought it would.

The hunt must have ended recently, because the stallions came thundering back in, rabbits and squirrels tied together and slung over their backs.  Firenze trotted up and gave Laeiana a peck on the cheek.

“Hello love- we would have been back sooner, but some youth think mating season can be whenever there’s a break in the hunt and a quiet clearing.”  He looked back at two teenage-looking centaur boys, who pawed the ground sheepishly.

“Honestly, Uncle Fir, just because we were blessed by the huntress doesn’t mean we have to abstain like the huntress,” the teen said before trotting up to Laeiana.  “Hi mum.”

“Buce, looks like you did well, despite your detour ,” his mother said, motioning to all the game slung across his back.  Harry looked back and forth as he tried to puzzle it out- Bucephalus had called Firenze “Uncle Fir,” but it looked like Firenze and Laeiana were in a relationship.  The palomino woman caught sight of his confused expression and laughed.

“Centaurs are not quite so monogamous as humans,” she explained.  “We tend to mate quite freely amongst ourselves- as long as you did not spring from the same sire and dam, you are free to copulate.  I had Bucephalus with Firenze’s brother, and Peggy with a visitor from another herd. Now I carry Firenze’s foal,” she said, gesturing to a very slight bulge in her horse’s belly.  Firenze looked over to see who Leaiana was talking to and smiled slightly when he recognized Harry.

“Ahh, Harry Potter- you are looking better than you were when last we spoke, although unfortunately Mars is even brighter,” he said.

“He’s rather a twiggy thing,” Leaiana sniffed.  “I don’t see how he could get any smaller.” She spooned another heaping ladle of stew into the bowl Harry was still trying to finish as she talked to her herd member.

“You should have seen him four years ago; under the glamours he was skeletal - I was surprised he was alive, to be honest.”  Harry blushed brilliantly in embarrassment- it seemed that centaurs didn’t have the same sense of discretions humans included as part of their culture.

“Oh, it’s alright dear, nothing to be ashamed of,” Leaiana told him, catching sight of his face.  “My grand-dam, one of our fiercest hunters, never topped fourteen hands at the withers, but she brought in more game than my sire ever managed to, even though she taught him everything she knew and he was over 17 hands by the time he reached stallion-hood.”

“Erm, thanks?” Harry tried, sipping broth from his bowl.

“Of course, little one- and between you and I, your magic more than makes up for your small stature,” she told him quietly as she pushed a stray curl out of his face.  She accidentally brushed her belly against Harry’s hand as she did so, and the teenager was surprised to feel a flutter of movement, like little hoofbeats. Leaiana gasped.

“She kicks for you!” the woman exclaimed.  “She is drawn to your magic as well; it seems that the stars have aligned the herd with your fate.”  Harry’s big green eyes looked up at her in astonishment.

“We will meet again, little foal, have no doubt.  Mars shines bright- but you shine brighter. For now, I must go- the first kick of a foal demands the dam must rest.  May the gods protect you until the planets are in position for your hour of triumph.” She kneeled to press a kiss to the scar on his forehead before meandering into her hut to rest, and Hagrid told him it was time to go.

[Regulus takes Cygnus to do all the touristy stuff in the city and see Diagon Alley; on the way they see an ad for a theoretical physics position at University College London.]

Two weeks before school started, there was that rare day that was warm enough for Minnie to feel comfortable about letting Harry enjoy a swim in the lake without fearing for his health, so he happily put on his swim trunks and sun shirt, put on a bubblehead charm, and dive into the cool water.  He met the giant squid before he’d been in five minutes, and of course they were delighted to see him, long tentacles giving him a big squishy hug as they slowly took Harry to the mervillage to see his other friends.

The mer, too, were delighted to see Harry, as they had been the few times since the second task that it had been warm enough for him to come visit.  Harry was making decent progress in his mermish, and the little mer children all swam around delightedly, chasing each other and yelling “This my nose; this my nose!” while pointing at various body parts.  The adults were slightly more successful with their own English lessons, mainly because they had already spoken a little before they’d met Harry (as well as the fact that they could sit still for longer than two minutes, unlike their progeny).

When Harry surfaced two hours later, he found Minnie waiting with a warm, dry towel, lying on the sand reading Transfiguration Today in a one-piece swimsuit.  She quickly stood up and wrapped Harry in the fluffy beach towel, kissing his sopping curls as she made a futile effort to rub them dry without allowing them to puff out.

“Go get into some dry clothes,” she told him.  “It’s warm out, but you could still easily catch a chill if you stay out too long all soaking wet.”

“M’kay Mama,” he agreed amably, still seemingly unaware he was doing it.  He yawned a little, and Minerva looked at her watch- three o’clock- her Harry was so predictable.

“You can take a nap if you want; I’ll just tell Severus you’re working on some independent research so he doesn’t tease you about it.”

“Thanks,” Harry told his parent with a hug and a grateful smile, popping away to his bedroom.  It was rather nice to be allowed all the naps the Dursleys had never let him have as a child- he was unusually smart, and Petunia had begun teaching him to ‘make himself useful’ the day he’d arrived, and while Dudley was taking his naps, Harry was forced to toddle around the house with a broom, getting a hard whack if he missed any dust in the corners or started to nod off.  He learned very quickly after that.

Things were better now, however, as by the time he’d had a wash and changed into his fuzzy pyjamas, Minnie had reached Gryffindor tower and was waiting to tuck him in, like she insisted on doing whenever she could  Harry gave her a sleepy little smile as she kissed his nose and tiptoed out of the room, turning out the lights as she left.

Chapter Text

Three days before school started, and Harry was really looking forward to seeing all his friends again, even though they floo’ed every day.  There was something just so exciting about the Hogwarts Express and the Welcoming Feast (the one time he hadn’t been trapped in the hospital wing, that is).  Well, this year he was perfectly healthy (or, as healthy as he could be with all his health issues).

He was just out of the shower and eating dinner at the head table with the professors (minus Dumbledore, who tended to take dinner with his office since he’d been pummelled by hexes from Reg, Minnie, Sev, Sirius, Remus, Julian, and Sarah, refused medical help by Madame Pomfrey, and given a good whack with Kreacher’s beat-down pan for good measure.  He hadn’t even bothered to fight back, so dumbstruck by Regulus’ reappearance). Dumbledore’s chair had been removed and one for Harry had been placed in its old spot, because everyone liked being near him.

“And then I tried reducing the quantity of Boomslang skin,” Harry said, regaling all the attentive professors with details of his new potions experiment.  “But that- ACHOO!” he was interrupted by a large sneeze, and he groaned mentally as every head in the room turned to look at him in concern. “Guys, it was just one sn-ACHOO!”   Oh shit , he thought to himself, I’m in for it now .  “Maybe it’s a little dusty in here,” he tried again, before he began to wheeze.  He immediately had the entire staff of concerned adults nearly on top of him, and Severus immediately put a potions phial to his lips.  His airways cleared slightly, enough for him to sigh sadly as he saw Poppy coming towards him.

“No fever, that’s something,” the mediwitch said as she felt his forehead.  Harry didn’t dare hope that meant no hospital wing, though. Poppy had even changed his little corner into a little room, with walls and everything, as soon as she got the diagnosis of his immune disorder.

“It could be a cold, or perhaps a more serious reaction to the immunoglobulin therapy?” Severus pondered, gently stroking Harry’s shoulder, as if to assure himself he was still there.

“Either way- best get him to the hospital wing.  If it is a cold, we want to nip the potential pneumonia in the bud before it even gets a chance to rear its ugly head,” Poppy said.  “And if it’s a bad reaction to the immunotherapy yesterday, then we should monitor it further anyway- to be honest, I was thinking I should have kept him another night, just to be on the safe side.”  Harry sadly mourned the loss of his freedom as Severus picked him up to carry him to the hospital wing- another thing that just wasn’t fair , that he was still liftable at his age.

[The Dursleys phone lines have been cut, the house door locked, and the house charmed with a muggle-repelling charm from the outside.  Kreacher can’t have them committed to the looney bin before he’s done torturing them.]

Harry, well-plied with potions and slept fine that night, although he was still a bit sniffly.  The next day was the same, and Harry was doing alright, although not better altogether, and rather upset by the time the last day before school came along- it looked like he’d spoken too soon about getting to enjoy the beginning of the year.  As worrying as the situation was, the adults couldn’t help but find it absolutely precious, the grouchy little teen with his drippy nose and soft snuffling. The fact that he was well-aware of how cute they thought him only served to make him more grouchy, and thus, inadvertently, more adorable.

“Hey,” Severus caught Harry’s attention, coming in after lunch.  “I know you’re mad at us, but I’ve brought a peace offering,” he waved a snack cup of pink jello temptingly in front of Harry’s nose.  “Strawberry- your favourite.”

“And you stop taking pictures of me for the photo albums for the whole rest of the day?” the teen bartered.  Severus looked torn, but eventually sighed.

“Fine,” he agreed, “if that’s what it takes to make you happy.”  Harry nodded once and snatched the jello, not even bothering to wait for Uncle Sev to get him a spoon but instead wandlessly conjuring his own and ripping the lid off the sugary treat.

“I don’t know why you like that slop so much,” the potions master shook his head fondly as Harry dug in and spooned the first bite happily into his mouth.

“I like all foods,” Harry said, before a strange look came over his face and the wheezing began again.  He coughed harshly and panicked as he tried to take a deep breath. “Can’t- I can’t…” he wheezed, and Sev’s eyes widened as he looked from the jello cup to his choking nephew and remembered something he’d learned a long time ago, during his potions mastery.

“ POPPY!” he yelled frantically.   “BRING THE EPIPEN, RIGHT NOW!”   He would have gotten it himself, but he didn’t want to leave Harry’s side at the moment, especially as it looked like he might have to shortly begin CPR.  Luckily, before he had to resort to what would surely have been a highly embarrassing moment for both of them, the medi-witch brought the muggle allergy tool, and Severus thanked whatever gods might be out there that Harry had worn joggers today instead of jeans, as it allowed to pull them down more quickly to get access to harry’s thigh.  He shoved the pen in, ignoring the scars on Harry’s upper legs (a belt buckle, a few from a dog chain, it appeared, and a burn scar from he didn’t-even-want-to-know-what). Harry’s wheezing ceased gradually as he took a deep breath in, and Severus did the same- in the tension of the moment, he hadn’t realised that he’d forgotten to breathe altogether as he waited for the epipen to take effect.

“Thank Merlin,” he said as Harry finally caught his breath and stopped panting quite so hard.  He pulled his hands apart from where his nails had been digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood.  Poppy saw and subtly sealed the wounds so Harry wouldn’t worry. “Oh, thank Merlin,” he exclaimed again, holding his head.

“What happened?” Harry asked, knowing better by now than to try to apologise for scaring them.

“Let me just run a diagnostic to make sure,” Severus told him shakily, hands barely able to hold his wand for the tremors.  “Yes- you’re allergic to strawberries; sometimes a new allergy develops independently, especially if it’s commonly related to other allergies, like bananas and avocados.”

“Oh,” Harry sighed, looking downtrodden.  “I love strawberries. Even my shampoo is strawberry-scented.”

“Ah,” Poppy realised.  “ That’s what was wrong this whole time.  The allergy developed, and the shampoo was causing the reaction, although it wasn’t as serious as it was when you ingested the allergent.”

“So no more shortcake?” Harry asked sadly, trying not to sound too upset.  Behind treacle tart, strawberry shortcake and strawberry pastries were his favourite desserts.

“Afraid not, child,” Severus said, feeling very bad for him- hadn’t the universe done enough to the poor kid already?!  “But hey,” he continued, ruffling his hair, “how about I go to Hogsmeade and pick up a big batch of treacle tarts from Honeydukes, and then I’ll bring you back some pumpkin-scented shampoo.  You’re always drinking pumpkin juice, and Sirius told me Lily practically bathed in the stuff when she was pregnant with you.”  He was so determined to cheer up his adopted nephew that he didn’t even mind letting slip that he and Sirius were getting along quite well these days (to his eternal horror and Lily and James’ uproarious delight, watching beyond the veil).

“Yeah, alright, that sounds good,” Harry agreed, forcing a smile onto his face so Uncle Sev wouldn’t feel so bad.  And a treacle tart did sound good right about now, anyway…

[Harry takes a shower with his new pumpkin shampoo and then Sev tells him stories about his mum as a child while they work their way through an entire batch of sweets].

“Hey Reg,” Poppy spoke into the floo at Grimmauld Place that night.  “I know we weren’t supposed to have our weekly floo-call until tomorrow, but I had a question to ask you- oh, and congratulations on Cygnus’ new job, by the way.”  Poppy had always had a soft spot for Regulus Black- she’d had her suspicions that he’d had a difficult home life, but as wizards only used dark spells on their children if they were so inclined, and nothing that would leave a mark or any long-term physical damage, she had no way of proving her suspicions (emotional marks- well, that’s clearly another story).  But she’d made it clear to him that he always had a safe space in her domain, even if he was feeling fine, physically. He hadn’t had the emotionally supportive group of friends Sirius had, and they were very close. Up until his depression sent him spiralling downward and he’d joined the death eaters, Regulus had wanted to be a healer.

“Thanks- he’s really excited about it,” Regulus interrupted Poppy’s reminiscing.  “Now I just have to find something I want to do- I don’t much fancy being a party store employee now that I’ve got my memory back.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” the medi-witch told him.  “Harry had a terrible allergic reaction today.” She waved off Reg’s immediate concerned firing of questions.  “He’s fine now, but it made me realise that even taking care of him is a full-time job, poor bean.” She shook her head sadly over the difficult life of her favourite patient before she continued.  “I think I need to take on an apprentice- if you’re still interested in healing, that is?”

Reg’s face lit up brilliantly.  “Are you kidding?! That would be fucking brilliant!”

Poppy laughed.  “Language, young man,” she clucked her tongue teasingly at him.  “I won’t have my new apprentice teaching students naughty words.”

“Sorry, m’lady,” Regulus atoned in an overly-affected posh accent.

“Of course,” she continued, “it will only be during the day- I know you’ll want to go home at night to fuck your lover.”  Regulus turned bright Red, and it was Poppy’s turn to laugh at her own joke.

Chapter Text

Poppy had informed Harry in no uncertain terms that she would be keeping him the entirety of the first week, as he had just had a life-threatening allergic reaction, and on top of that she didn’t feel safe letting him go, especially as he was due to have his injection Tuesday.

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” he asked her, and she gave him a stern look.

“I’ve learned over the course of my time with you that every time I think it would be okay to let you go when I maybe should have kept you longer, something bad happens, darling.  So, in answer to your question, no, I do not think it is extreme at all.” Harry sighed.

“If you say so, Aunt Poppy,” he ceded, pulling a book off the shelf.  “If you say so.” Poppy ruffled his hair and went to get him an ice lolly- he’d definitely earned one.

[Minnie has brought Harry’s snakes and Hedwig to his hospital wing bedroom after giving them a stern lecture on how they must behave if they are to stay with him.]

“Hey cub, we’ve got something to cheer you up!” Remus called into the hospital wing later that day- he’d just gotten his office packed and quarters for him (and thus, Sirius) set up for his upcoming year teaching.  Harry reached out with his mage senses to see who “we” was, and it turned out it was Uncle Sev.

“An escape plan?” he called out hopefully, only half in jest.

“Noooo,” Severus rolled his eyes at his nephew as they propped the door to his room open, showing him a box.  “A telly set. Fred and George gave us the spell they created to make the one in Gryffindor tower work, and we figured you could use something else to entertain you in here.”  Harry noticed he hadn’t called them the “twin terrors.” He hadn’t called them anything other than their names all summer, actually, not since the day that he’d seen Nancy and Ted to get his diagnosis and had his first jello.  Strange…

“Yep, and we’ve got the whole cable package and all the film channels,” Remus interrupted Harry’s train of thought.  “I know it’s not good health and the Welcoming Feast, but we thought it might take the edge off the boredom…” he trailed off, acutely aware that a telly set couldn’t come close to making up for the shitty lot Harry’d gotten in life.

“I love it- thanks Uncle Mooney, Uncle Sev- you guys are the best.”  They got the telly set up rather quickly, handing Harry the remote.

“I guess you guys gotta leave now,” he said sadly, fiddling with the buttons as his big green eyes tore at their heartstrings.  “Since the train gets here today and all.”

Remus looked at the clock.  “Oh, I suppose we have time for one programme, don’t we Severus?”

“Of course- we’ll make time.  So we’re a little late; that doesn’t matter.”  Harry could tell the words physically hurt the perpetually punctual man, and he smiled gratefully.

“Awesome!  What do you guys wanna watch?” he asked gleefully, offering them each a biscuit from the shortbread tin Minnie had brought him earlier.  

[Remy and Sev fight over which Star Wars movie to re-watch].

Harry didn’t even make it halfway through the movie before his nap, which he managed to valiantly fight off until four, claimed him and he snored softly, his long eyelashes fluttering as he dreamed (presumably sweet dreams, as he slept quietly, with no thrashing about or distressed whimpering- Merlin bless Sarah).  Despite the fact that Harry was soundly out for the count and wouldn’t notice if they slipped away, Severus and Remus made no move to get up until the last of the credits rolled.

“He looks like a baby angel when he’s sleeping,” Remus told his colleague as they walked briskly down to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Severus snorted.  “Minerva got me drunk at dinner last week and I let slip that he was adorable, and I woke up the next morning to nothing but muggle cheerleading uniforms in my closet- in a ghastly shade of pink as well, mind you.”

“You’d think it all comes from James, but some of his ideas are pure Lily,” Remus remarked, chuckling.

“ Some of them?” Severus snorted.  “Not to speak ill of the dead- much- but James’ ideas were never that inspired.  He’s his mother’s child, through and through.”

“So, how’d you get your clothes back?” Remus asked him, noting that there was next to no bitterness in the other professors tone as he spoke about James- Harry really had done the impossible and turned Severus Snape into not just a decent man, but a pretty damn good one.

“What do you think?  I did what any self-respecting man would do and locked my bedroom door and hid there until the spell wore off.  Only took about a day, and the house elves thankfully didn’t say anything when they came to deliver my meals and found me wrapped in my bed sheet.”

“House elves, such wonderful beings of discretion,” Remus agreed, unable to keep himself from snorting at the beautiful image that could have been had Severus been forced to leave his quarters that day in a muggle cheer uniform.

“So is the mutt joining us for the feast?” Severus asked as they reached the door to the Great Hall.

“ My husband will be having one last dinner with his brother and Cygnus before we all get busy with our jobs; plus I don’t think he could tolerate the sight of Dumbledore, who, while he tends to avoid having most meals with the school these days, is required at the Welcoming Feast,” Remus told him.

“Ah yes; I must admit I’ve spent most of the day fantasising about how to get a few hexes in on the old goat without causing a scene,” Severus growled.

“A silencing charm first would do wonders,” Remus remarked.  “And we could skip that awful nonsense he always calls a speech.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Severus said, making it sound as if they had just been talking mundane professor business as they reached their seats (although even the phrase I’m inclined to agree with you sounded distinctly strange coming from Severus Snape towards Remus Lupin).

They never got to hex Dumbledore silent, however, as immediately after the sorting ceremony ended, the doors to the hall burst open once more as a short, squat woman with a sickly-sweet smile (like a corpse that hasn’t yet begun to rot, or the cloying smell of a tampon you’ve just pulled out), horridly coiffed auburn curls (well, dyed auburn, and dyed badly.  The woman had clearly gone gray and just refused to acknowledge it). Furthering the image of a woman-thing trying to cultivate an image (if one could call it that) that was far too young for her (and far too hideous for any self-respecting person; even Dobby would turn up his nose at the type of things this woman had on), she wore a horrid quilted pink cardigan, a pleated pink-and-black checkered skirt, and lacy socks that ended just above the knees with horrid, overly large magenta bows on the sides that didn’t quite manage to hide her varicose veins.  Her face was smug and flat, and Severus would have said she looked like a toad, but he felt that was an egregious insult to toads, as this creature had no body parts he would dare put in a potion.

Everyone was so horrified by the appearance of the woman that they didn’t even notice the two (very reluctant) aurors tailing her until she marched to the front of Remus’ chair and spoke up.

“You must vacate your position now; I have an order from the minister that clearly states that I am to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.  The esteemed minister Fudge (the fact that she said that without a hint of sarcasm furthered their opinions that she was bat-shit insane- actually, that was an insult to bats, and to the fecal matter therein) has declared that due to the mismanagement of the school and the perpetuating of the rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, there is need for a competent ministry employee within the walls of the school.”

“A competent ministry employee, huh?” Minerva struggled to keep her temper in check.  “Where are they- I’m afraid I don’t see one.”

“Why, that would be me , of course- Dolores Umbridge,” the toad-woman-creature-thing-beast spoke again, her voice overly sweet as she processed Minerva’s insult.

“Oh, I must apologise, then- I thought Hagrid had lost one of his monsters again.”  Down at the end of the table, Hagrid nearly choked on his drink before he spoke up.

“There’s a limit to even what I’ll take, p’rfess’r,” he told his colleague, who resolved right then and there to bully Dumbledore into giving him a raise.  

“If you would all stop disrespecting the great name of the minister!” Umbridge harrumphed, “I am here to announce that you, Remus Lupin,” she spat the name as if it were a curse word, “are hereby dismissed from your post.   Your kind are not welcome here.”

“If by werewolves, then, as much as I resent the implication that they are anything but good people with an unfortunate affliction, I must inform you that I no longer am one,” Remus said, his face a facade of calm and his voice perfectly measured.

“Lies!” Umbitch screeched.  “Slander and lies- just like this Harry Potter brat has been spreading around.”  Severus fumed- only he got to call Harry a brat, and only in a purely affectionate way, which this woman was not doing.  “Now- vacate the premise at once or I shall have you arrested.”

It was currently taking the efforts of the entire Gryffindor table to keep a hissing Pansy and Hermione from rushing the woman in absolute fury, but Remus merely looked at his students (and they would always be his students) with that eerily calm expression.

“It’s alright girls; no need to make a scene on my behalf.  And remember- Saturday Night Live doesn’t stream in Azkaban- repeat it like a mantra if you must.”  Then he turned and walked out of the hall in clipped, measured steps.

“Funny that you seem to have such a problem with magical creatures when you look like you just crawled out of a hole in the ground,” Severus finally put his bit in- quite loudly, and the new ‘professor’ seemingly having had enough of pretending to sweetly accept the jibes, looked angrily towards the aurors, who were slapping their knees as the laughed merrily.

“Sorry Umbit- I mean Miss Umbridge,” the one on the left, a bald black man with an earring in one ear, finally gathered himself enough to say.  “We might have been forced by the minister to go on this little errand of yours, but it’s still perfectly within the law to be funny. Enjoy your stay at Hogwarts.”  Umbitch, fuming, made her way to Remus’ vacated seat, and Severus and Filius, on either side, pulled their own as far away from the new ‘staff member’ as it was possible to get.  As the food appeared on the plates, a large, wet helping of pickled fish made its way towards Umbridge’s face from the direction of the Slytherin table. Even if the woman had tried to issue a punishment, the laugher was too loud for it to be heard, thereby rendering it ineffective.

Pansy and Mia looked at each other, then at their other friends, and they all wore the same hard look in their eyes.  They were going to drive this toad screaming out of the castle, and they were going to do it quickly.

Chapter Text

The guys in their friend group watched the girls nervously that night- they were angry , and when the girls were angry, bad things happened.  

“I just can’t believe she fired Lupin!” Ginny ranted, while Hermione and Pansy signed rapidly to each other and Millie had her nose in a book of hexes and jinxes.  

“Ugh, and then said all those awful things about Harry- our Harry!  She makes me so angry I don’t know which dagger I want to stab her with first,” Pansy said.  

“I want to do bad things to that woman,” Hermione agreed, before looking at her girlfriends.  “And unlike the bad things we do to each other, these will not be pleasant.”

“She’s a real bitch,” Luna said, her normal tone of voice not changing at all, and the others looked at her in surprise- it was unlike her to be so straightforward.

Luna shrugged.  “None of my creatures will go near her, so there’s really no other way to describe it.  I like the dagger with the blue stone in the handle, by the way,” she added to Pansy, before going back to calmly knitting a misshapen piece of fabric.

“She’s clearly going to suck as a teacher,” Pansy growled in frustration, before an idea dawned on her face.  She signed something to Mione, who nodded, then she stood up on a table in the common room, rapped the steel toe of her boot loudly against it, and threw a dagger at the cuckoo clock, which made a loud, unpleasant noise that caught everyone’s attention as the mechanical bird met an untimely death.

“Alright losers!” she yelled at the common room and the various Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students gathered therein.  “Umbitch is clearly a useless pile of radioactive waste, so we need a new way to learn DADA and other necessary survival skills. Tell all your friends that aren’t here that if they wanna survive this war, they need to meet us after school tomorrow by the portrait of trolls doing ballet on the seventh floor.  I’ll be teaching physical combat and endurance with Mione, and I’ll make Harry teach the magical stuff once he gets out of the hospital wing. He survived duelling with the dork lord, so I think that more than qualifies him. If you don’t believe Voldeturd is back, go fuck yourselves. Also, if you blab on us, you will regret it and they will never find your body.  That’s all, back to your regularly scheduled lives.” She waved her wand to summon her knife out of the now-mutilated clock and stepped off the table with the terrified eyes of the entire room on her.

“Come on babes,” she told her girlfriends, “let’s go to Hufflepuff- I wanna smoke something.”

[Harry, unaware of what happened at the feast, sleeps soundly cuddled with his snakes and Hedwig, his belly full of feast food the elves brought him earlier.]

“Educational degree #1,” Hermione read off the bulletin outside the Great Hall, “Boys and girls are not permitted within 8 inches of each other.”

“Hmmm, this should be fun,” Ginny said, grabbing Luna by the hand as Hermione, Pansy, and Millie shared frightening smiles.  Unfortunately, Umbitch wasn’t even in the hall to see literally every single same-sex couple in Hogwarts making out.

“Attention,” Minerva, who essentially made all important announcements these days because Dumbledore was afraid to show his face to his staff, told the students “‘Professor’ (and yes, she actually made air quotes) Umbridge had a nasty outcropping of boils in the staff meeting this morning, and while I am of the opinion that they actually make her look less hideous, if anything, Poppy has assured us that nothing can be done except to let them correct themselves naturally, so she will be teaching her first class on Monday.  Any classes you had scheduled for DADA this week will be study periods. Thank you, that is all.” Down the table further, Severus innocently sipped his coffee, the corners of his mouth tugging into a slight smile.

[Umbridge tries to sit down in her ridiculous pink armchair, but there are multiple painful boils on her bum.]

Harry, in his room in the hospital wing, flipped morosely through the channels on the telly set- Poppy had told him this morning that they’d fired Lupin, and he’d gotten a glimpse of the new teacher that morning when she’d come in afflicted with some nasty boils.  He couldn’t see much from his little room, but the scent of her magic, like rotting fish that someone had tried to cover up with cheap perfume, made him want to gag so badly that he’d immediately withdrawn all his mage senses. The sound of it, like a banshee screeching, had given him a headache.  He knew for a fact that Aunt Poppy could have healed them easily, but he said nothing when she told the Umbridge woman they’d have to go away on their own- even if she hadn’t fired Uncle Mooney in such a horrible and public manner, her magic alone was enough to tell Harry that she was no good- even Voldemort’s didn’t repel him that badly.  To top it off, Sapphire started signing, which in Horned Serpents was a sign of danger. He had a feeling that there was no way his family and friends would let her stay very long, but he hoped they managed to drive her out screaming sooner rather than later. He looked at the clock on the wall impatiently- twenty minutes until his friends were due to visit.  Classes had ended an hour ago, but an owl from Pansy told him they were going to be late, although it didn’t say why.

“Aunt Poppy,” he called, “Can I please have an ice lolly?”

The medi-witch poked her head into his room.  “Of course, dear. What kind?” Harry started to say “strawberry” reflexively, but managed to stop himself just in time as he remembered his new allergy- which was good, as it probably would have given poor Madame Pomfrey a heart attack.

“Um, apple?”

“You bet- be right back,” she promised, kissing his forehead before she left.  He licked his sweet, somewhat cheered, as he kept pushing Sapphire’s head away from his popsicle (he’d seen her on a sugar high, and knew that Poppy was guaranteed to kick her out if he let her get like that)  and found a rerun episode of Friends to watch until his actual friends got there.

“Hey golden boy,” Pansy greeted when they got there, half an hour later.  “Sorry we’re late- er, lat er - we stopped for a snack,” she said, licking treacle off her scarred fingers.

“Why were you late in the first place?” he asked, as Draco presented him with an extra dessert.

“So, we started a new club, well, more an organization, really,” Hermione informed him, stroking Nagini’s head as the green snake hissed in pleasure.  “We call it Take Down Toad, and we were just organising the particulars. Practically the whole school showed up, so we had to put them in four groups that we will teach three days each, off on Sundays, and you’re gonna teach them Defence while Pansy and I do combat and endurance.”

“Say what now?” Harry exclaimed, dropping his tart, which was promptly gobbled by Sapphire.  

“Well, Umbitch obviously is gonna suck at teaching,” Pansy explained with exaggerated patience, as if to a child, “and you have more real-life DADA experience than any of us, so you’re an obvious choice. I mean, Fleur, Malala, Vik and Ced are gonna come in and help, but you’re the one who duelled old MoldyFart and survived.”

“Fair point- but that was a lot of luck, honestly.  And I don’t know how to teach,” Harry pointed out what he thought were perfectly reasonable counter-arguments.

“That was talent and you know it,” Hermione said.  “Besides, you taught Ron to knit, and although I love the boy to pieces, I admit I thought such a thing was impossible.”

“But-”

“Honestly Harry,” Millie rolled her eyes.  “You can argue with those two for another hour and still lose, or you can just agree now and we’ll all settle in for a Star Trek marathon- your choice.”

“Fine, you win,” Harry sighed, as Sapphire began zipping around the room invisibly.  Poppy, with her well-tuned ears, came in, followed the sound of the crazy serpent banging into the walls, grabbed her invisible body, and left again in the space of a minute, and the others didn’t really take too much notice of it at that point, such a normal occurance it was.  “But Draco gets to cuddle on the bed with me- the rest of you get floor cushions.” Harry’s boyfriend happily complied, curling around him to be the big spoon and kissing Harry’s ear. Ginny quickly won the fight with her brother for the room’s one armchair, Susan laid with her head on Hannah’s stomach, and Ron sat on his own cushion missing Viktor, which led Cho to platonically put her arm around him so he’d have someone to cuddle.  Seamus was in detention for blowing up another cauldron (because Severus might be pretty cool now, but he wasn’t permissive, and the cost of Seamus’ labor scrubbing desks, chairs, and cauldrons (which involved water, a natural deterrent of fire) just about offset all the costs he incurred with all the new cauldrons that were needed. Dean was off with Fred, George, and Jordan doing… something , and Neville fought over a bag of popcorn with Blaise as they watched Kirk and Spock be clearly gay for each other.  Life could be worse (and unfortunately, with Umbitch around, it was about to be).

Chapter Text

Saturday rolled around, and Harry was finally free.  Just in time for Regulus to take Cygnus for a tour of Hogwarts, to show his boyfriend the school they all loved.

“Could you show me the charm again, Harry- the one with the stag?” the muggle asked as the tour gradually picked up Harry and his friends, eager to add their own input about the castle.

“Sure,” Harry agreed amably- it was a beautiful day, he was with his friends, and he had no trouble summoning the happiness needed for a Patronus.  His stag pranced into view, brilliantly luminous, and Harry smiled at it. “You can also send messages with it,” Harry told Cyg, and then turned to his Patronus again.  “Go tell Sirius I know he has my gameboy, and that I want it back next time he comes to visit,” he said to the Patronus, which nodded once and galloped off.

“Simply fascinating!” Cygnus exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” Harry agreed.  “Especially when you didn’t grow up around magic.  Anyway, I showed you my Patronus- can you return the favour and tell me more about that dark matter stuff you were talking about?”  Reg’s boyfriend’s face lit up like a supernova as he went into the finer points of the theory, wishing his students showed as much enthusiasm as the small teen in front of him listening intently to his explanations.  

[Harry cuddles a homesick muggleborn first year in kitten form.]

All good things must come to an end, as did Umbridge’s boil-exile, and the fifth-year students groaned as they looked at their schedules- of course they had her first thing in the morning.  Harry thought his potions tasted even worse than usual that morning with the thought of the lesson to come.

“And what are we not going to do today?” Severus asked Pansy as he passed the Slytherins at the Gryffindor table their schedules.

Pansy sighed in resignation.  “Stab Umbridge,” she grumbled.

“And why not?” Severus prodded.

“Because she’s not worth it,” Pansy reluctantly parroted the lecture she’d been given the night before.

“Good girl,” Severus said, but he didn’t dare playfully ruffle her hair like he did Harry’s.  “There’s a little bit left in the bottom of that one,” he told his nephew, pointing to the phial that held the bone strengthening draught.  

“There’s like a drop,” Harry complained.  “That’s not even worth mentioning.” Severus raised, an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.  

Harry lifted the phial to his lips again, grimacing.  “I’m gonna knit you a jumper that says ‘momma bat,’” he threatened Severus.

“If it gets you to cooperate, you can knit whatever you like,” Sev told him, blasé.  And if he actually went through with it, well, the dungeons got cold in the winter, and he could wear whatever he liked in his quarters with nobody to see him.

“It’s no fun to mess with him when he goes along with it,” Harry sighed as the potions master headed back to the staff table.  “An unfortunate side effect of his hanging out with Siri.”

“Come on,” Hermione prodded them all, ignoring her friend’s whinging.  “We need to get to class early, so the toad has a clear view of us all making out when she comes in.”

[Umbridge nearly has a conniption when she walks into the room to see all the gays kissing, but since there’s no rule against it, she technically can’t do anything about it.  She resolves to make a new decree that night.]

It took about twenty minutes for the ‘teacher’ to recover from her shock enough to speak, during which time Pansy wrote “curse of the kissing gays” down in one of her many idea lists before cleaning her nails with one of her favourite daggers.  Then she pulled out a bottle of nail polish to fix a chip in the paint, while Harry withdrew his mage senses as far as they would go to avoid the magical malady that was Dolores Umbridge.

“Alright class,” Umbitch finally gathered herself enough to say in that awful high-pitched pseudo-girlie voice, “Good morning.”  She seemed to be trying to pretend the preceding events hadn’t happened. She received a bunch of half-hearted grumbles in return.

“Let’s try that again,” she said.  “When I say good morning, you will reply with, “good morning, Professor Umbridge.”  She repeated the phrase. Nobody spoke at all, except for Pansy, who responded with a “well up yours, too!”

“Potter,” she snapped, momentarily losing her faux-sweet tone.  “Detention for not following directions.”

“Wait!” Hermione yelled, “How is that fair?  None of us said good morning!”

“Yes, well dear,” Umbridge said, adopting her awful screeching pseudo-niceties again, “Potter is already guilty of lying to the minister, which signals a chronic lack of respect that shall require an immense amount of energy to discipline.  Don’t worry, I shall ensure proper behaviour in all my students once he’s learned his lesson. Although I’m hoping that seeing that delinquency will not be tolerated in my classroom using Potter as an example will deter the rest of you.”

“Fuck you, you absolute bitch !” Pansy cried, and Umbridge turned to glare at her, although averted her eyes when she saw the hardness of Pansy’s face, and the Slytherin received no reprimand.  Pansy documented her findings- the woman clearly had a vendetta against Harry, even though she’d caused far more trouble so far.

“Now,” Umbridge pretended not to have heard Pansy.  “Your education has been sorely lacking thus far, so thank Merlin I’m here.  Take out your books and put away your wands; you won’t need them for this course.”

“But we need to learn to defend ourselves!” Hermione cried, scandalised- this was worse than she even thought possible .  “And our O.W.L.’s are this year!”

“If you study diligently, you will have no trouble on your owls,” the thing kept talking.  “And as for needing to defend yourselves, I will say it again, as you seem to be a little slow- there is nothing to defend yourselves against.”

Harry finally lost his temper.  “Hermione is smarter than everyone else in this room combined!” He yelled at Umbridge.  “And Voldemort is back- I saw him!  I fought him!”

“Silly, insolent child,” Dolores snapped.  “You’ve just increased your detention to an entire Saturday!  He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cannot be back, as you would be dead if you had tried to fight him- although perhaps that would have saved me a lot of trouble with my reform efforts here at Hogwarts.  Now take out your books.”

She got no further, as a strong spell from Pansy knocked the bitch unconscious and they all filed out.

“Pansy!” Harry chastised, “You could get in so much trouble for that!”

“What,” the girl shrugged, unconcerned.  “Sevvy said not to stab her, and I didn’t stab her.”

[Umbridge flees the school on ‘Ministry Business’ for the rest of the week, deathly afraid of Pansy.  But she can’t punish the girl- her parents are one of the richest families in Britain, so she must tread carefully.  She’ll have to take a different route- maybe once she breaks the Potter brat, the bitch will keep quiet for her friend’s sake.]

Umbridge got back on Saturday morning, an hour before Harry’s detention, as she planned her strategy.  The brat clearly has the rest of the staff under his thumb, so she has to keep him quiet about what was going to go on here today.  But there was a spell for that- after he’d written his lines, he’d be weak enough that she’d be able to put her little keep-quiet curse on him.  Additionally, she’d had a very interesting piece of mail redirected.  Apparently, the brat was on some sort of muggle immunotherapy, the shipment of materials needed for which had just come in Thursday and now sat behind her desk.  With his treatment late, plus the very difficult day she had planned for him, he would not be able to break the (highly illegal) keep-quiet spell she would place on him, even if he was as powerful as it was rumoured.  She rubbed her hands together gleefully- if she’d known muggle expressions (which she didn’t, because she was a huge bigot) she would have said that the ball was in her court. Oh, if she only knew how wrong she was…

Meanwhile, Harry was being fussed over by Minnie.  “Perhaps we should see if we can’t postpone this detention- your immunoglobulin shipment is two days late, and you’re looking a little peaky.  I’ve written Nancy and Ted to try to find the problem, and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with making it wait until next week- you didn’t even do anything to warrant the damn thing!”

“Mama, you went to Dumbledore, and he didn’t cancel it, then you sent a howler to the minister, and he didn’t cancel it- there’s no getting out of it, whether I deserve it or not, so I might as well get it over with.  Besides- I had tonnes of detentions with Uncle Sev first year, and it’s really not that bad. Especially not compared to the sorts of punishments I got used to, well, you know…”

Minnie squeezed his shoulders protectively.  “I do know, and as soon as I figure out how to legally make them suffer without dragging you into a public court case, I’m going to.  Anyway darling, I’ve packed you a lunch. I love you, and remember- this isn’t a fair punishment, and you don’t deserve it.” She needed him to believe that, even if she couldn’t do anything about it.

“I know Mama; you and Uncle Sev have both said it a thousand times.  Now don’t worry about it- I’ll be fine, and I’m sure the shipment was just late and will be here soon.  I’ll be back under Aunt Poppy’s iron fist in no time.” He leaned in to give his guardian a hug, and Minnie tried to convince herself that her paranoia must be making her imagine the warmth of his skin.

Harry took his lunch and hurried down to Umbridge’s office.  He knocked, and was told to come in. He’d retracted his mage senses, but that couldn’t protect him from the horror of the pink walls decorated with dozens and dozens of plates with photos of kittens all over them.  He had to keep himself from gagging- this was an affront!

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” she told him sweetly.  “Do sit down; you’ll be writing lines today.”

“Alright ma’am,” Harry agreed, trying to be as pleasant as possible.  Besides, lines didn’t sound so bad… He went to pull a quill out of his bag, but the thing stopped him.

“I have a quill for you,” she told him, and when she pulled it out, even though Harry’s senses were fully detracted, he was nearly assaulted by the slimy disgusting feel of the black magic coming off the writing utensil.

“You want me to write with that ?” he asked her, certain she must not only be mean but absolutely insane.  “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh, it will happen, Potter, I assure you,” Umbridge told him, smiling a cold, fishy smile that sent shivers down Harry’s spine.  “I’ve warded the door, and don’t call an elf for help either- they can’t get in.”

Harry extended his mage senses to feel the wards- they would take hours to pick apart, if he had quiet and the space for full concentration, which he didn’t.  He could always go to Minnie after detention- after he pulled off whatever spell the bitch would surely put on to keep him quiet.  He very carefully blocked his bond with Kreacher and his familiars as well- one of the wards was dark enough to literally kill a house elf, and seriously injure a dragon, not that Umbridge knew that.  It was an unlucky accident for him, but he didn’t dare risk his animals or Kreacher getting hurt because they wouldn’t take the time to go get Minnie and Sev to take the wards down before they rushed in to save him.  He knew that Umbridge had to be aware of how highly illegal these wards were, however, and she didn’t know that he could pull off any spell she tried to use to keep him quiet as soon as he was out of there. This would be painful for him, but he had no other options that wouldn’t put his loved ones at risk, and this would be just the thing that would get Umbridge kicked out of the castle and bring Moony back in.  He picked up the pen with a shudder.

“What do you want me to write?” he asked her, words clipped.

“Liar, liar, liar,” she said, smiling with vindictive glee.  “This should help you learn your lesson, and your unfortunate habit will be exposed for all to see.”

Harry ignored her goading.  “Where’s the ink?”

“You don’t need any of that, just start writing.”  Harry put pen to paper anxiously, wondering what awful thing this quill was going to do to him.  He nearly winced, more from surprise then pain, when the words cut into his hand and his blood brought the words to the page.  If Umbridge was expecting a complaint, however, she would get none. He’d seen worse- much worse.

By lunch, his hand was bleeding freely and he’d cut it nearly to the muscle.  He knew that Poppy would heal it right up, but the feel of the magic told him that the wound would scar regardless.   Fucking great , he thought as he grit his teeth.  Glamours wouldn’t cover this kind of scar either, he could just tell.  The only thing keeping him from crying at the obvious disfigurement he’d have to carry around forever was the thought of what this awful toad was in for when his family found out what she did.  That and the fact that he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

“Professor,” he said, inserting as much strength into his voice as he could, “I’ve brought a lunch, and it’s noon.”

“I don’t quite think a few mere lines is enough of a deterrent, dear” she told him, snidely warping the word ‘dear’ to seem like an insult.  “Perhaps an experience with a little hunger would teach you.” Harry knew she was operating under the assumption that he’d never gone hungry before, and he wanted to yell that he was more familiar with it than she would ever be, so familiar that it had given him an autoimmune disorder, but his secrets were his to keep, and she didn’t deserve to know how much this bothered him, so he kept his mouth shut, grit his teeth, and wrote as slowly as he dared.

The pain got steadily worse as the hours passed, and he began to feel faint.  It was taking nearly all his energy to keep Kreacher and his pets from feeling something was wrong through their bond, and the rest of it went towards the steady effort to keep conscious and not show how much he was hurting.  Dinner grew closer, so close, and it was there, but she still didn’t let him go, and for Merlin’s sake, he could see the bone in his hand peeking through underneath blood and torn skin.  Finally, his hand spasmed, and he dropped the pen.

“Pick it up and keep writing,” Umbridge ordered.

“Just a minute,” Harry ground out, waiting for the spots to clear from his vision.

“Now, Potter.”

Harry tried to lean over, but wobbled a bit.  

“I said now, Potter!  Perhaps you need a stronger lesson,” she said, her voice again reverting to the faux sweetness that she hadn’t used since the beginning of the detention.

Harry’s stomach sank as she raised her wand.  “Cru-” she began, but before she finished the incantation, there was a large crash as the wards shattered.

[When Harry didn’t show up for dinner, Minerva and Severus sent a precautionary patronus to Poppy and rushed to Umbitch’s office.]

Minerva threw open the door to the office and saw Dolores Umbridge beginning to cast a crucio on her son, who was bleeding freely, although she couldn’t see from where.  Her anger was greater than it had ever been, even when Albus was at his stupidest and most manipulative, and in the face of her fury and her power, wards that would normally take a curse-breaker at least an hour to dismantle were blown wide open.  She ran to her child, slumped barely-conscious against the chair. When she saw his hand, she screamed a battle cry that would have put the greek god Ares to shame, the windows reverberating with her loose magic, as Umbridge was thrown against the back wall.

Severus’ sharp eyes quickly took in the blood quill, Harry’s bleeding hand (although he couldn’t yet make out the words through all the blood) and then snagged against a package on the shelf- the immunoglobulins for Harry’s therapy, clearly labelled and marked “Express Delivery.”

Severus Snape thought he knew anger- anger at the Marauders for what they’d put him through in school.  Anger towards the dark lord for killing Lily. Anger at himself for letting it happen. Anger at Harry, his first year, for having his mother’s beautiful eyes in his father’s face.  Anger at himself again, for being so horrible towards Harry. Anger at Albus, for letting Harry be hurt so badly by people who were supposed to care for him. Anger at Albus again, for being stupid (multiple times).  But this- this was the colour red personified, times a million. This was every feeling of anger he’d ever felt towards the Dursleys, the anger that had built over time, shoved into the single second it took to see what had been done to a child he cared about so deeply.  This- this was true fury.  This was war .

He didn’t even bother to reach for his wand- it would only slow him down.  He looked the pathetic, awful creature who had dared hurt his nephew directly in the eyes, and the already-cowering woman recoiled at the hatred there.  But he wasn’t done.

“Crucio,” he spat, and the word held more power than his old master had ever managed to pour into the curse because this- this was hatred towards one borne from love for another, the truest, strongest, most righteous hatred.  This was hatred that had been earned , and it hit Umbridge with the force of a tsunami tide.  She screamed, loudly and immediately, and the fact that she couldn’t even handle a second of the misery she’d been putting Harry through all day (and Severus was sure that he hadn’t said a word of complaint about it) only increased a fury that already surpassed every boundary he’d ever thought possible.  With his other hand, he put a silencing charm on her as he poured more and more of his anger into the spell. He watched her mouth move in silent horror and felt a grim satisfaction that finally, finally , this awful spell was being used on someone who had indubitably earned every second of the pain it wrought.  The only thing keeping him from laying it on even stronger was that he wanted her to suffer, long and terrible, before she met her bloody, painful end.

Then Harry groaned, and the whole world stopped in a moment.  Severus released the spell and ran to him, throwing a stunning spell in Umbridge’s direction even though he doubted the spineless cunt could gather the energy to move.  He had more important things to worry about now.

Harry finally lost the energy to keep blocking the bond, and Kreacher rushed in immediately when he was inundated by a wave of Harry’s pain.  Luckily, the wards were gone, so he was fine. Physically, at least. Mentally- he was pissed.

“WHAT HAS THAT AWFUL TOAD BE DOING TO LITTLE MASTER HARRY?!” he bellowed, waving his frying pan right into Umbridge’s face, breaking her nose immediately.

“Blood quill,” Severus spat.  “Listen, Kreacher- we have to get Harry to the hospital wing immediately, but we’re going to call the aurors for appearance’s sake.  I need her MIA by the time they get here- we’ll just say that the bitch ran away. Azkaban is too good for her. Do whatever you like to her, as long as she stays alive- she needs to suffer for a long, long time before we allow her the sweet release of a painful death.”

“Kreacher be understanding batman,” the elf nodded.  “Kreacher be taking her to Little Master Harry’s dragon in the forest.  We start by burning her slowly.”

Minerva finally looked up momentarily from Harry.  “Good job, Kreacher. I know we can count on you.” Then the elf was gone, and Poppy rushed in.

“Oh Merlin!” she gasped, horrified.  “What has she done to him?!”

Severus jerked his chin in the direction of the torture instrument, unable to even say the name again, and Poppy put a hand over her heart.

“A- a bl-blood quill… I cannot even fathom the depravity…” Poppy was in shock, but she had a job to do, so she shook herself mentally and leaned down to look at Harry’s hand.  It was a deep cut, all the way to the bone, and the pain that must have been incurred for it to have been carved into his flesh so slowly… she didn’t understand from where poor Harry could have possibly drawn the strength to manage the detention.  Then she pieced together the words in the mutilated flesh, and not even all her years as a medical professional could keep her from rushing to the corner to throw up all over a particularly horrid salmon-coloured cushion.

“What?!” Minerva demanded, despite being terrified to ask.  “What does it say?”

Poppy spit once more and took a deep breath.  “Liar,” she managed in a terse whisper. “Liar, Liar, Liar.”

[Minerva calls the aurors while Severus and Minerva rush Harry to the hospital wing.  The author almost ended the chapter above, but thought it was far too cruel.]

Poppy and Severus spent the next two hours sealing Harry’s hand, while Minerva showed the aurors the crime scene.  They were suitably horrified, and although they looked sideways at Minerva when she said Umbridge had run away, they did not press the issue but instead gathered the quill, took photographs of Harry’s blood all over the desk, chair, and floor, and rushed back to make their report to Amelia Bones.

Meanwhile, by the time the aurors had finished the preliminary investigation, Poppy stepped back to survey her work while Severus poured another blood-replenishing potion carefully down Harry’s throat.

“Nothing I can do about the scar,” she lamented, hastily wiping away a tear with hands stained by Harry’s blood, “but at least it won’t be causing him pain when he wakes up.”  

She felt his forehead.  “He’s running a slight fever, but it could just be the stress…” she began, before spotting a small red blister on Harry’s neck, and another on his collar bone.

“No!” she cried.  “Fuck no- it can’t... anything but that,” she muttered as she hastily began casting diagnostic charms.  Severus saw what worried her and his stomach sank to his knees. Harry couldn’t have dragon pox, he just couldn’t… the disease had killed healthy adults, Harry would stand no chance… oh, he was going to figure out a way to resurrect Umbridge just so he could kill her over and over…

“Oh thank gods!” Poppy exclaimed, sinking into a chair in relief.

“What- it’s not dragon pox?”  Sev demanded anxiously.

“No- it is, but it’s the vaccine strain.  A muggleborn got their vaccines late this year

because they’d been out of the country until right before school started, and I wish I’d thought about it more, but Harry had that grand allergy scare and Mungo’s didn’t send the medical records for the first years over until Friday and then… but thank Merlin, Harry’s going to be fine.  It’ll be rough going for a while, and we’ll have to be by him twenty-four seven to keep his fever at a manageable level, and knowing Harry, the poor kid’ll have breathing complications, but we’ve got the ventilator. He’ll probably be out of it for a good two weeks, and then awake and miserably itchy and driving us all insane for another two, but we’re not in any danger of losing him as long as we’re always keeping one step ahead.”  She put a hand on her chest and tried to catch her breath as Severus, too, sank down to the bed in relief, putting a soft hand on Harry’s fluttering chest to assure himself he was still breathing.

“This wouldn’t have happened if that horrid creature hadn’t stolen his immunotherapy supplies,” he ground out, a little too loudly.  Harry groaned and stirred.

“Shh, shhh, go to sleep, child- everything is going to be just fine,” Severus told him, almost impossibly softly, as he tipped first a fever reducing potion and then a dreamless sleep down Harry’s throat.  “We’re here for you; we won’t let anything happen. You’re safe.” Harry’s newly-scarred hand gripped Severus weakly as he drifted off, and he stayed there. He stayed there even as Poppy went to floo call Regulus to tell him she needed him to start his apprenticeship early.  He stayed as Minerva arrived and kept dabbing Harry’s forehead with cold cloths. He stayed and watched in apprehension as more and more pox appeared, until the poor child was absolutely covered in them.  He stayed as Poppy called Sarah for extra help as they hooked him first to an IV line, then to the ventilator as Harry’s breathing grew more laboured.  He stayed all through the night and didn’t leave for anything, marvelling at how much smaller Harry’s hand looked next to his own as the sick teenager’s fingers clung to Severus’ wrist in his sleep.  Their grip didn’t loosen, so Severus stayed.

Chapter Text

Regulus’ first two weeks of healer training were some of the most hectic of his life- Harry needed constant care and attention to keep the fever at non-dangerous levels (they’d had to put him in an ice bath several times when the fever peaked) and to monitor his breathing and make sure the ventilator ran smoothly.  In addition, Harry had to be shirtless because of all the ice baths and to keep his fever down, and the scarring on his back, chest, and upper legs from growing up with the Dursleys was horrifying, so he, Sarah, Severus, Poppy, and Minerva had split the effort of glamouring them amongst the five of them because they were so extensive.  Even with the division of the effort, having the spell draining his energy and magic constantly was exhausting. While they’d never said as much outright, he knew that the other adults were as horrified as he was that Harry had managed to keep the glamours up all of first year while attending classes and playing quidditch (not to mention rescuing the Philosopher’s Stone).  For him to have done it all himself while suffering the aftermath of even just the physical abuse without treatment was mind-boggling.

Itch-Relieving salves were always a hit-or-miss treatment when it came to Dragon Pox (one of the many reasons the vaccine was a godsend when it was invented, at least for those who were healthy enough to receive it), and judging by the way Harry kept scratching himself in his sleep, they offered the poor child little to no relief (just once , could the universe let the kid catch a break?  Apparently not). Severus had wrapped Harry’s hands and feet in bandages (with Marvel Comic book characters on them) to keep him from opening the blisters and causing an infection, and it served the double purpose of hiding the scar on Harry’s right hand so that he wouldn’t have to look at it while he was still ill (and the adults could temporarily ignore its existence as well).  Gradually, by the end of the second week, there were fewer fever spikes as Harry’s temperature settled into a mid-level fever that was concerning, but not dangerously high. They were close to the second stage of the illness, in which Harry would likely be more aware of his surroundings instead of unconscious or barely-conscious. Unfortunately, the trade-off for the fever coming down in this stage was that the pox grew even itchier, and parents of children who came down with the disease pre-vaccine said that while the first stage was terribly frightening, it was the second that made a person want to rip their hair out in exasperation.  The adults were aware of this old adage, but they each thought that hearing Harry say anything, even to grumpily complain incessantly about being in the hospital wing and being uncomfortable, would be better than the terrifying roller-coaster of temperature spikes and breathing difficulties that they’d faced since that horrible Saturday detention.

[Draco is thinking about the horrible scar on Harry’s hand when he suddenly has an idea that might make it better; he seeks out the help of Dean to bring it to life.]

As Harry came gradually to full consciousness on the Sunday 15 days after being forced to use the blood quill, the first thing he noticed was that Minnie, Sev, Sarah, Poppy, and Reg had all glamoured his scars, and their magic felt like being wrapped in a warm group hug.  The second thing he noticed was that he was itchy as fuck .  While nearly every inch of him from head to toe had the prickling, horrid sensation that seemed to start at his nerve endings and was so unbearable he almost felt it under his skin, the way he was lying meant that his right shoulder was experiencing more overall pressure against the bed, and the tickling, rubbing sensation of the blankets only aggravated the feeling further, so it was this area that most demanded nails scraping skin, like, right fucking now .

Unfortunately for him (or fortunately, if you were to ask the adults), instead of the blissful feeling of nails digging into skin that just itched so badly , he only felt soft cloth hitting his shoulder.  Too uncomfortable to ponder the source of this misfortune, his eyes still mostly closed (as he was still not fully awake), he began rubbing frantically, hoping to work up enough friction to find some relief that way.  Just as he started to work up a really good rhythm, however, he felt his wrist grabbed. The feeling of the magic told him it was his Uncle Sev impeding his mission.

“Itchy,” he grumbled. “Why’re you not lettin’ me scratch?”

Severus sighed- cranky Harry had taken over right out of the gate, but it was just so good to hear his voice again, whinging or not.  “You’re not aware of this, because you’ve been rather out of it these past couple of weeks, but unfortunately the state of your immune system means that a muggleborn who was vaccinated later than usual has given you a weak strain of dragon pox- you can’t scratch them.”

Harry groaned and cracked open his eyes to take in the plethora of small red blisters that had taken over his skin.  “ Weak strain?” he asked, squirming slightly and trying to subtly caterpillar up to rub his back against the headboard.

Severus pushed him back down into the bed all the way.  “Yes- for you, of course, it’s like getting the full disease would be for a normal person, which is why we couldn’t vaccinate you in the first place.  Scratching could open the skin and lead to an infection, which would of course be very bad. While you were out of it, we tried all sorts of salves and even muggle calamine lotion, but dragon pox is a very tricky disease and you seem to have the world’s worst luck, you poor child,” Severus said, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

Harry gave a disgruntled sort of noise.  “Tell me about it,” he agreed, trying to rub his chin against his chest, which of course only triggered the spots in both places and made the itching worse.

Minerva came in from catching a few hours’ sleep after her shift watching Harry to see her son awake, his face falling as he went to scratch his shin with his other foot, only to realize that they were mittened as well.  Like Severus, she couldn’t help her lips quirking into a slight smile.

“Ahh, I see we’re getting the terrible twos today,” she chuckled, and Harry momentarily stopped pawing at his polka-dotted chest with his mittened hands to look at her with an unimpressed expression.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked his mama as Severus pulled his wand off the bedside table (he knew Harry well enough to know that the sideways glances he’d been giving the instrument meant that the teen was wondering how ebony and dragon heartstring would work as a back-scratcher).

Minerva realised what she’d said out loud and a sheepish expression came over her face.  “Well,” she admitted, “that’s what we call it when you get into one of your petulant moods while you’re stuck in the hospital wing.  We don’t mind, really, though- gotta have them sometime,” she finished, giving Harry a very soft kiss on the nose.

Harry’s big green eyes clearly stated that he did not find it quite so amusing, and he crossed his mittened arms in front of his chest, sat up in the bed and worked into quite a mood .  Minerva just rolled her eyes fondly, relieved he felt well enough to be an A-class drama queen.

“Would it make you feel better if we let Draco come visit?  And got you some ice cream?” she dangled the offer in front of him, and his expression changed to one of suspicious curiosity as he looked at her sideways.

“How long can he stay?  And what kind of ice cream?”

“The two hours before dinner to start with, and any kind you like,” his mother promised.  

“Okay,” Harry agreed magnanimously.  “My boyfriend and chocolate with rainbow sprinkles and I’ll consider forgiving you for laughing at me while I suffer in this cesspit of itchy misery.”

“That’s very kind of you, kitten,” Minerva told him, smiling widely while Severus hid his face in his robes to keep from laughing outright.

[The unicorns use their horns to whack at a very beaten-up Umbridge like an awful pink piñata.]

Harry and Draco were finishing off their ice cream about twenty minutes later as they cuddled (and Draco kept stopping Harry from rubbing vigorously against him to relieve the itching- besides the fact that he wasn’t supposed to scratch, the blonde still found his boyfriend unfairly hot despite the fact that he looked like a very short, very grouchy connect-the-dots activity wearing superhero mittens).

“So what do you wanna do now babe?  We could read a book,” Draco suggested.

Harry shot a dirty look at the comic book wrappings preventing him from having a go at the irritating full-body rash currently making him so cranky.  “I don’t feel like reading,” he grumbled.

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” Draco asked, utilizing the patience Harry normally directed towards him in literally every other situation.

“Scratch,” Harry responded.

“How about a movie?” Draco redirected, to no avail.

“No- I wanna scratch.”

“Well, we can’t do that luv- I’m sorry.”  Draco really did feel bad for his poor love- he was squirming miserably (and, more to the point, being very cranky- it took a lot to irritate Harry, so Draco could only imagine how awful it must be for him.  He’d never had dragon pox- like every other kid their age with a working immune system, he’d been vaccinated).

“Traitor,” Harry muttered, before his eyes lit up as an idea apparently dawned.  In a flash, his boyfriend was replaced by a fluffy black kitten with spots hidden under his fur.  Harry raised a paw to finally find the joy of a good long scratch when…

Severus had been one step ahead of him, and the mittens had sunk down with him, covering all four of his tiny kitten paws.  Harry let out an adorable meow of pure feline rage before transforming back.

“I’m gonna prank Uncle Sev soo bad when I get out of here,” he declared, before looking back at Draco.  Seeing the sympathy in those silver eyes, he softened his big green ones into the sweet begging look of doom (the one that James always crumbled to immediately in his wife and the reason the Potters had a kneazle even though he’d wanted a crup).

“Please take these paws off, just for a minute?  I’ll scratch around the pox, er… between them,” he promised, even though, were his hands freed, it was certain that he would not have the self-control for such a thing.

“I can’t free your hands, fawn,” Draco reasserted.  Seeing Harry’s face fall, he sighed. “But maybe I can help a little,” he caved.  “Here, turn around.” Harry showed Draco his back (which was still glamoured, of course, or not even this horrendous itching could make him subject his boyfriend to the sadness that his scars would cause) as Draco very softly began to rub his fingertips along Harry’s skin to relieve the itching a little.

“Mmmmm, harder,” Harry moaned, leaning back further into Draco’s hands as the blonde put all his energy into thinking about a naked Dobby so his own body wouldn’t react eagerly to his boyfriend’s voice.  “Ooh, I love you so much.”  He was still itchy, but even a little bit of the edge off was something.  Until Severus came back in from showering and changing his robes, that is.

“Draco- I thought you had more willpower than that,” he chastised his snake.  “No more alone time for you two- out.”

“But he was just rubbing,” Harry protested.  “And it felt so good!”

“Yes,” Severus said, “which is what concerns me, as the situation would no doubt have escalated quickly.”  The in more ways than one he kept to himself.  While Harry and Draco had both had the talk and were at an age where it was acceptable for a little shy experimentation in the área of fooling around was not unheard of, especially among two educated, consenting teens who were as in love as these two, Hogwarts hospital wing and a serious illness were not the place nor the conditions for such a thing.

“You can come back tomorrow,” Severus promised Draco, “‘ with somebody watching you to make sure you behave.”

“Awww,” Harry whinged as Draco left.  “C’mon, Uncle Sev! Have you ever had dragon pox?”

“No,” Severus admitted.  “The vaccine was invented just before I was born.”

“Then you don’t know what it’s like,” Harry told him.  “I just wanna rub sandpaper all over my body- it itches so bad .”  Uncle Vernon actually had rubbed sandpaper over his back once, but that was another story, one he didn’t intend to burden his beloved uncle with (even if he was being annoyingly uncooperative at the moment).  Harry’s eyes were just like Lily’s when she wanted something, only even more adorable in his cherubic face, especially now that his cheeks had filled out and were no longer hollow like they were up until he was twelve and then again after his awful bout of pneumonia.  Even with the pox, he was absolutely adorable, and the way his long dark eyelashes framed his emerald orbs made his eyes look even larger than they already did in his small face. Saying no to him was like kicking a baby unicorn, and Severus found his hand reaching out to rub Harry’s arm of its own accord.

Luckily for him, Poppy and Minerva came in right before he caved (and simultaneously lost the last teeny-tiny shred of his tough-guy persona), carrying a bag from the pharmacy in the nearby muggle village.

“We’ve got something for you, luv,” Minnie told her son, pulling out a box.

“Oatmeal?” Harry cast a skeptical eye at the label.  “Mama- I’m itchy, not hungry.”

Minerva laughed.  “I know kitten; you put a scoop in the bath water, and it’s supposed to soothe the irritation.  I’m hoping it does something , as we’ve tried just about everything else.”  She conjured a big metal tub and began filling it with lukewarm water from her wand and threw in a scoop of oats from the box.  “You can leave your boxers on, c’mere, in you get.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice; he was ready to try anything .  Severus barely had time to cast a water-repelling charm on his mittens before he’d plopped himself in the water, submerging himself as much as he could, until all that could be seen was his eyes and his messy head of curls as he blew bubbles to keep the water out of his nose.  Minerva snapped a picture before he came back up. Minerva snapped many more pictures the next few minutes, and Harry began to think it was all a ruse for her to fill another photo album when suddenly, a smile of pure pleasure came over his face as he leaned farther back into the water with a sigh- in a state of near bliss as the home remedy finally, finally , numbed some of the horrible itching.

Minerva positively beamed as Harry finally relaxed and the squirming motions he’d been making since he woke up ceased as he stilled, his eyes drooping pleasantly.  She dipped a soft flannel in the oatmeal water and squeezed it out over the pox on his scalp and then moved down to very gently wash his neck.  A goofy grin came over his face as he leaned into the touch, basking not only in the glorious relief as his mama conquered the enemy itch in the places the water couldn’t reach but also in the feeling of pure affection that, even after three years, was still so novel to him.  He let out a sound oddly like a purr before his eyes drifted all the way closed, and five minutes later saw Minnie wrapping him up in a fluffy towel and carrying him back to bed, wondering how in the world she got so lucky.

Chapter Text

Oatmeal baths turned out to be the thing that saved their sanity the next two weeks.  Harry needed at least three a day to be moderately comfortable, but at least it enabled him to get plenty of rest and thus to recover faster.  That plus the many visits of his friends helped make the dragon pox debacle more bearable, but it still felt interminable to Harry. By the time the mittens came off, he’d almost forgotten about the scar from the blood quill (most of his energy had gone to complaining about the indignity of itchiness and glaring at everyone for cooing about how absolutely precious he looked in his many oatmeal baths).  When he saw the words liar, liar, liar very clearly carved into his hands, he had to bite his lip to keep from bursting into tears.  He would have lost the battle anyway, had not Dean come bursting into his room in the hospital wing right at that moment.

“Harry, Harry, Harry!” he yelled.  “We have an idea- to cover your scar.  I just finished it!” He waved a piece of parchment about wildly, and Severus, whose face it was flapping in, grabbed it to look.

“A hundred points to Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas,” he said, not seeming to care that he’d just awarded the most points anyone had every given to any student at once during his years teaching, and to a Gryffindor, at that.  “This is genius.”

“Let me see,” Minerva demanded, and her face lit up immediately.  “Why- Mr. Thomas!” She positively beamed at her student.

“It was all Draco’s idea- he should get the points.  He just asked me to draw it for him, and I added that bit right there,” he pointed to something on the parchment as Harry craned his neck to try to get a look.  “He wanted me to take the credit, since he couldn’t draw it on his own, but you should know that this was all him- he loves Harry so much; it’s touching, honestly.”

“What?  What is it?” Harry asked, unable to be patient any longer.

“Harry, how do you feel about getting a tattoo?” She asked him.  Then she showed him the drawing. It was a picture of Harry’s hand, with his new scar.  But using the L of each Liar , the word Loved had been written vertically under it.  The - iar had been crossed out, and around the words slithered moving drawings of his three snakes, plus a fourth, emerald with silver eyes, who wove in and out of the others.

“That one’s meant to represent Draco, which is why I added it to his original idea.  He doesn’t know yet,” Dean explained. “I thought it would be a surprise. He has a cousin, Tonks, who is an auror but drew tattoos to raise money during training, and she agreed to do yours today, if you’re okay with it.”

Poppy finished checking him over.  “You’re free to go, Mr. Potter. As long as you come back for your immunoglobulins on Tuesday.”

“We’ll make sure he does,” Severus promised.  Minnie took Harry by the hand.

“Floo’s right over there, darling,” she told him, so pleased that her son now had a way to lesson the pain of the disfigurement Umbridge had forced on him.  

“Tonks is waiting at Siri and Remy’s,” Dean told them.  “Although they aren’t there- they’re still organising Professor Lupin’s quarters.”  He said Professor Lupin with no small hint of pride.

“Thank you, Dean.”  Minnie told him sincerely.  And, because Severus was oddly not thinking about the honour of his house in his relief over Harry, she said, “100 points to Slytherin for Draco’s excellent idea.”

[Dean goes back and tells Draco that Harry is getting the tattoo as they speak, but mentions nothing about the fourth snake he added.  In the meantime, Kreacher gives Umbitch dragon pox in a brilliant flash of insight while the centaurs hang her from a tree as bait for the acromantula population they are trying to track.]

Nymphadora “call me Tonks” Tonks was the most fascinating-looking person Harry had ever seen.  She had shoulder length purple hair, brilliant bright pink irises, and a tattoo of a butterfly fluttering its wings on her chest, half-hidden beneath her tank top.  She had three piercings in each earlobe and a cartilage piercing in her right as well, and she wore black combat boots, ripped jeans, and had a flannel around her waist (Harry, remembering something Pansy had told him about that particular piece of clothing, realised she must be a lesbian- Pansy, of course, was always right).

“Your eyes are amazing!”  Harry blurted out right away, before blushing- not the most articulate introduction.  

“Thanks kid- but they aren’t really that colour.  You see, I’m a metamorphmagus, so I can change my appearance at will.  My natural eyes are hazel, but they’ve got a couple flecks of the Black silver in them.  Your eyes are pretty neat, though.”

“You’re a metamorphmagus!” Harry enthused.  “I’ve read about them, but I’ve never met one.”

“Yep, we’re pretty rare,” Tonks said proudly, screwing up her face for a moment before her hair turned pink and her eyes went violet.  “But it definitely helped in the disguise unit of auror training- which was great, because I needed a lot of work in the stealth section.”  As if to demonstrate, she took a step forward and tripped over her own feet.

“Don’t worry though,” she assured her god-cousin (through Sirius, obviously).  “I sit down when I do tattoos.”

“Nice!”  Harry said, “although anything’s gotta be better than this.”  He showed Tonks the scar, and she couldn’t bite back a gasp.

“Holy shit!” she yelled.  “That’s gotta be like, what- seven hours with a blood quill?”

“Eight,” Severus grit through clenched teeth.

“Damn kid, you’re tough as hell,” she told him.  “We could use you in the aurors.”

“No thanks,” Harry told her gently as he further impressed her (unintentionally) by wandlessly and wordlessly summoning the gameboy his dogfather had borrowed from him.  “It doesn’t sound so much fun when you’ve had the dark wizards hunting you .  I think I wanna do something a little less intense, but like, still help people.  Like a professor or a healer or something.”

“You can do anything you want, kiddo,” Tonks told him with a laugh.  “Now, let’s see this design.” Tonks looked at the paper for a moment before she nodded and pulled out a large leather bag.  

“Wizarding tattoos still use needles,” she warned him.  “You cool with that?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed easily.  “I see a lot of needles, and you’re not gonna try to keep me in the hospital wing after, so it’s good.”

“Ah, yes, Poppy Pomfrey can be a real pain in the arse, as much as we love her.  I saw her once, when I decided to try quidditch. Never did either again,” Tonks laughed.

“I wish I could avoid all the things that put me there so easily,” Harry lamented.  “But it’s like she’s got a tracker on me or something.”

“Sounds like my mum,” Tonks laughed.  “I was a bit of a rebellious teenager.”

“ Was ?” Minnie prodded, at the same time Severus snorted.

“ A bit? ” he said in disbelief.

“Did not mean to let your newts loose fifth year, Professor, I swear,” she said, holding her hands up as she looked at the allergy list for Harry that the potions master had subtly slipped her.  She gave him a thumbs up- her ink was perfectly fine for use on the teen.

“And the toads your seventh year?” Sev raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh yeah, those were on purpose,” she admitted as she loaded the first colour she’d need.  “But you were an arse and you deserved it, and it was only an amortentia, so there was no possibility of dangerous explosions.”

“Fair points,” Severus agreed.  “I was rather an arse.”

Tonks looked at Harry.  “Kid, you’re a miracle worker,” she exclaimed as she inserted the needle into his skin the first time.  “Either that, or you hid the real Severus Snape somewhere and this is an imposter.”

“I assure you I am real,” Severus deadpanned.  “Harry is too much of a Hufflepuff to get rid of anyone, anyway.  Even if they deserve to be taken down a peg or two.”

Tonks shook her head in astonishment.  “That may be,” she said. “But I swear to Merlin, somewhere there is a formerly-perfectly reasonable human being walking around with Severus Snape’s brain.”

“A point will be taken from the aurors for your cheek, Ms. Tonks,” the head of Slytherin declared, and the former Hufflepuff stuck her tongue out at him as Harry giggled.

[Harry looks in awe at his tattoo- it doesn’t even hurt him to look at his hand anymore.  Tonks gets the biggest hug of her life and decides right then and there that she would die for this kid (but she won’t, because the authors are not sadists/J.K. Rowling)]

Harry’s snakes were very pleased by his new ink, and cast smug looks at Hedwig, who didn’t take the bait- Minnie had already told her that she was going to surprise Harry by having her added to it on Halloween, since that was such a hard day for him.  

“And look, you added your mate,” Nagini commented, looking at Draco, who was still standing there with his mouth open after Harry told him who the fourth snake was meant to be.  Harry held his hand as he dragged his astonished and pleased boyfriend through the common room, although they were stopped every few feet by another person wanting to see the tattoo.

“That is so fucking cool!” Pansy exclaimed.  “Minnie is so much cooler than my parents- they’d never let me get inked.”

“Well it wasn’t exactly a normal circumstance,” Harry reminded his best friend (or, one of his many best friends).

“Oh come on,” Hermione said.  “That may be true, but if you’d asked, she would have let you do it anyway.  One flash of those big green eyes and you can get anything you want from anyone.”

“Okay then, wanna get me another pumpkin juice?” he teased Mione, batting his eyes at her in an exaggerated manner.

Hermione tucked a loose curl behind her ear.  “I know that was meant to be a joke, but I literally cannot say no.  You’re like an adorable Imperius curse.”

“Oh, sod off,” Harry groaned, but Hermione was already at the drink table.

Merlin, he had such amazing friends.  

https://bodypositiviteaandcakes.tumblr.com/post/173506568361/excuse-my-being-annoying-had-a-thing-for-a-fic-i ” alt=“image” />

Chapter Text

Sirius and Regulus sat in Sarah’s office Tuesday morning, looking around anxiously as they avoided the other’s gaze.  Neither one of them had ever been to therapy before, or even considered the idea, so they didn’t quite know where to start.  Sarah waited patiently as she let them settle in a bit.

“So, what exactly do we do here?” Sirius asked eventually, biting his thumbnail.

“That’s a very broad question,” Sarah responded.  “May I call you by your first name?” Sirius nodded, and Sarah smiled before starting again.  “Therapy works differently for different people, and even from session to session it can vary.  The main goal is to make peace with our demons, whatever they may be.”

“How do we do that?” Regulus broke in- he’d carried his for so long it almost seemed like they were interwoven with his very essence.  His dark mark might be gone, but Voldemort was still out there, and the memories of the things he’d done were once again fresh in his mind.

“It’s a process,” Sarah explained.  “But now let me ask you a question- what feels most present with you right now?”

“I… I don’t know,” Reg mumbled, anxiously fiddling with his hands.  Sarah handed him something.

“Here,” she said, “Harry sometimes likes to play with these when he’s thinking.”  It was a little ball of silly putty, and it sparkled when you squeezed it, like little fairy lights.  The mind healer handed another one to Sirius.

“How did Harry get started?” the dog animagus inquired as he watched his fingers cause localised sparks along the putty.

“I can’t say too much, as that would be breaking patient/doctor confidentiality, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me telling you that we started by looking at his medical records and working backwards from there.”

“That doesn’t really help us,” Regulus remarked.  “Our medical records wouldn’t show anything wrong, at least physically,” he chuckled bitterly.

Sarah looked at him.  “Let’s start from there- what do you mean by ‘at least physically’- what’s the first incidence that comes to mind?”

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, watching the clear expanse of his left arm as he did so- the lack of a dark mark was still novel to him.  “Well, I mean she’d hex us sometimes, but nothing that did lasting damage, like with Harry.”

Sarah tapped her pen against her notebook, and a charm on her bracelet jangled as she did so.  “Harry’s experience is irrelevant to your recovery,” she told him. “You’re not going to get any better if you say ‘well, Harry had it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.’”

Regulus sighed- she was right, but it was easier to avoid his own problems by thinking about Harry’s and rationalising that at least his parents weren’t so barbaric.  “I guess the first thing that I thought about, when you asked me what I meant about the whole ‘not physically’ comment was once when I was five. I’d seen my mother’s wand lying on the table, and she’d told us many times never to touch it, but I so desperately wanted to take a shot at making some purposeful magic.  I didn’t know this at the time, but we had very different magics- her wand was yew and dragon heartstring and I was to be willow and unicorn hair, so her wand reacted very badly to my magic, and I broke this grand old vase she’d had imported from the Rue de la mage in France.  The crash was audible throughout the house, and right before mother came, Sirius rushed in and took the wand from me.  When she got there, she saw Sirius holding the wand and asked what happened- he said that he’d used the wand and that I had tried to stop him, which led to the vase breaking.  Mother punished him- she cast a pretty harsh stinging hex at his arm and yelled at him for hours, and she praised me for being ‘the good child.’ The whole thing was really hard for me I guess, because I felt guilty that Sirius had taken the punishment I should have had, but I also felt like it cemented my role as ‘the good child’ and that Sirius had sacrificed himself so that I could stay in mother’s good graces.  And then I felt like I needed to keep staying in mother’s good books, I guess, because it kind of felt like that was not only the expectation of mother but of Siri- and every time I thought about speaking up or going a different way from her, I just thought to myself, Merlin, I can’t do that; Sirius wants to keep me safe- how would it look if I just threw all that away ?  And while Sirius took more and more of their attention by acting out and I sank deeper and deeper into the background, it was like, after a while, I’d forgotten what it was like to have my own opinions.  But I felt awful, at the end of it all, because it was like Siri had given more and more so that I could go about unnoticed and be safe, and I repaid him by becoming just like them .”

Sirius looked at his brother like he was seeing him for the first time.  “I never knew you felt that way, Reg. I mean, I’d almost forgotten about the whole vase incident.  Yeah, I rebelled a lot and tried to take the attention off of you, but I never meant for it to make you feel bad.  And I certainly didn’t intend for you to feel like you had to fade into the wallpaper.”

“I know, Siri- this is my issue, not yours.  But it’s like, when I was being pulled into the lake by those Inferi, I remember thinking that finally , I’m doing something for him , and it was that even more than the horcrux that made me feel like I could die somewhat peacefully.  But then Harry pulled those charms off of me and I found out that while I was safe and happy and in love in New York, you’d been in Azkaban.  And it’s like the one thing I thought I did for you by helping to get rid of a piece of this horrible master of mine that you’d always hated meant nothing.  Maybe it even hurt you- like, if the horcrux hadn’t been destroyed, maybe he wouldn’t have faded that day, and nobody could have blamed you for what happened.”

“My gods, Reg- if Voldemort hadn’t been defeated that day, or banished, or whatever it was, Harry would have died!” Sirius told his brother, horrified.

“I know; I know,” the younger Black exhaled shakily.  “And that would have been terrible and I am glad that it didn’t go that way, I guess.  But you have to understand, Siri, that I hated him , yeah, and that I wanted him to die, but what I most wanted was to finally make you proud of me, and to feel like I hadn’t thrown away all the effort you put into protecting me.”

“Reg- that’s insane.  I wasn’t tallying every incidence where I kept you out of trouble and marking down the charges.  You’re my brother, not a Gringotts account!” Sarah watched and took notes- it seemed they were doing okay on their own, so far.

“But I fucked it all up!” Regulus exclaimed.

“And then you un-fucked it up,” Sirius countered.  “Reg, of all the feelings of hurt and disappointment I felt when you joined the death eaters, not one of them was me feeling like you’d somehow thrown away some effort on my part.  I was hurt because I loved you and I was sad to see you get caught up in all that.  I was angry at our parents, for turning my kid brother who used to bring in all the sick birds and squirrels to try to heal them into someone who was willing to take the dark mark, and even though it wasn’t exactly fair, I was angry at you for letting them.  And I was angry at myself, for being so wrapped up in my own drama that I didn’t pay more attention and try to be there for you.”

“It seems to me,” Sarah finally broke in, “that both of you were angry at yourselves for what happened to the other, when that was one thing you didn’t have to be angry about.  The people who messed up were your parents, and, to some extent you of course bare responsibility for your own actions, but you were kids - neither one of you could have saved the other from a war with everything else that was happening.”

“She’s right, of course,” Sirius said.  “Reg- you messed up, and I messed up, and our parents messed up, but do you know what my one thought was when I thought you died? - that no matter what you’d done or what had caused us to drift apart, I fucking missed you.  I was sad that you were gone- and there was anger and hurt there too, but mostly I was thinking that I’d do just about anything to have you back, dark mark or not. I taught you how to shave, for Merlin’s sake!  I made sure you got on the train okay first year. I don’t care what happened, I love you and I’m just… I’m so glad you’re back.” Even Sarah had to wipe away a tear at that point, as Regulus ran at his big brother and tackled him in a bear hug as they both crashed to the floor, holding each other.

[Remus explains more about magic to Cygnus while their partners are in therapy, and James and Lily watch from beyond the veil as their old friend puts old pains to rest.]

Severus cursed- he needed thunderbird feathers, and he knew that Julian had them, which meant he’d had to admit to Julian that his country did have something to offer- bugger.  Reluctantly, he sent off a school owl to the man’s undercover address in Knockturn, telling him to meet him at a muggle Indian restaurant (where they wouldn’t be followed by death eaters nor seen in the wizarding world).  He had absolutely no intentions of checking on the man to see that he was doing okay and that the stress of trying to work his way into Voldemort’s inner circle wasn’t becoming too much for him- absolutely none at all (come on, it’s Sev- he may admit that he cares about Harry now, but any other sorts of feelings still elicit vigorous denial).  

“Thunderbird feathers, huh?” the American asked him as he placed an order for Samosas and Palak Paneer for two.  “What are you working on?”

“What?” Severus shook himself to attention.  “Oh, um…” (what was he working on again? He couldn’t remember, which may have had something to do with the fact that he’d just flipped straight to the first potion in his notebook that called for thunderbird feathers- not because he wanted to see Julian, mind you- it seemed an important brew at the time).

“Er, um… indigestion.  You know… thunderbird feather cores are good for defending against offensive spells preemptively, so my theory is that they might prevent… other things preemptively as well.”  ( Nice bullshitting, he congratulated himself, that actually sounds somewhat valid ).

“You have indigestion and you wanted to meet at an Indian restaurant?” Julian looked at him skeptically.

“Oh Merlin, no- it’s not for me,” Severus backtracked, wondering why his face felt so hot.

“Is Harry alright?” the other man asked, suddenly concerned.  

“Oh, Harry’s fine- I mean, he still gets nauseous sometimes with really rich foods, but I have a stomach soother that I give him first that seems to do the trick.  No, this is for um… Minerva,” Severus said the first thing that came to mind.

“Minerva,” Julian raised an eyebrow.  “Minerva-the woman I’ve seen eat ten carnitas off a taco truck and then wash them down with half a bottle of Sangria- suddenly has indigestion?”

“Yes, well, I didn’t ask for details,” Severus sidetracked.  “How’s the spying going?”

Julian scrutinised Severus for a moment but let the matter drop.  “Eh, it’s alright. I don’t exactly like the dark mark, obviously, but as long as I make sure I can drop everything for the meetings, it doesn’t burn for too long.  I’m taking things slowly, so I haven’t had any dark curses come my way. He’s mostly laying low for now- he likes that the ministry is going against Harry and doesn’t want to cause too much of a ruckus that would jeopardise that advantage.”  Their food came, and the blonde subtly took down the muffliato charm to thank the waiter before putting it back up.

“Harry would like this,” Severus remarked as he bit into a samosa.  “He loves anything Middle Eastern. We took him to an Iranian restaurant once, and the kid ate so much abdoogh khiar I thought he was going to turn into a rose petal.”

“You know, it’s funny how soft you are with him.  The other death eaters said you used to be a world-class asshole.  They’re wondering what happened, why you aren’t there,” Julian said.  “A couple of them were whispering, wondering how you manage to avoid the call.”

“Make sure they keep wondering- they need to think I’m still marked.  If people find out there’s a way to get rid of them and trace it back to Harry, he could be in even more danger than he already is.”

“I’ve already subtly dropped hints that there might be a potion that could help with numbing the mark- Voldemort is still firmly convinced his grip is inescapable; don’t worry.”

“It’s hard not to worry about him,” Severus admitted.  “There’s a madman after a sweet little kid who just wants to hang out with his friends and spends half his time in the hospital wing.”  Severus’ skin, less sallow after all the time he’d spent out in the fresh air watching Harry practice on his broom (because no way were the adults going to let Harry be doing anything potentially dangerous without a competent adult nearby, no matter how much the teen might tease them about being overprotective), had paled considerably during the course of the conversation.

“Speaking of hospital wing,” Julian tried to change the subject, “I heard that he came down with the dragon pox- how’d that go?”

Severus took a sip of his wine, grateful for the excuse to temporarily shove the constant anxiety about Harry’s safety to the back of his mind (well, not really to the back , just a little less to the front).  “The word ‘itchy’ now gives me PTSD,” he complained, “and I’ll never be able to look at oatmeal the same way again.”

[Kreacher has a full torture roster, what with Umbridge and the Dursleys, and he’s thinking of hiring Winky as his assistant.]

After they finished their meal, Severus walked Julian to the Metro (which he would ride further past Diagon Alley before apparating back into Knockturn) and headed to a little cafe near the Starbucks for a latte (support small businesses, folks).  He stayed there for about twenty minutes before heading back to the apparating point near Diagon, as a safety precaution. He realised he’d forgotten to get the Thunderbird feathers from the other potions master, but he had nothing to use them for anyway, so he tossed his cup in the recycling bin before he apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts, enjoying the stars and the unusually clear night as he walked up the hill.  He looked at his favourite, a small but very bright star near Orion’s belt that probably had a name, but he and Lily had dubbed it Orion’s lucky penny because it almost looked like loose change that had fallen out of his pocket.

“Oh Lily,” he whispered to the sky.  “What is it about the most unlikely people that draws us in?”

From behind the veil, Lily rolled her eyes at her best friend.  “You’re not gonna get any answers by talking to the sky, idiot- just kiss the boy and be done with it.”  But of course, Severus couldn’t hear her- one of the major disadvantages of being dead.

[Pansy and Hermione decide to keep Take Down Toad open, only now as the official student-run defence club, with Professor Lupin as their faculty sponsor.]

Severus, unaware that Lily and James were screaming “Ask him out, you boneheaded fool!” at him from the afterlife, made his way to check on Harry, who was spending the night in his room in the hospital wing.  It was around 8 o’clock in the evening, which was later than when Poppy normally allowed visitors, so he thought he’d find Harry quietly reading. Instead, he distinctly heard Harry’s giggle from his room.

“Ay- ¡no me digas!” Harry’s excited voice was talking to someone in Spanish.  “¿Su madre se puso un tritón en el pecho de esa mujer… esa Trunchbull?”

“Sí, claro,” a different voice, a girl’s voice, responded to him.  “Pero ya no sabía que era bruja hasta que arribó la carta de Hogwarts.”

“Ay, ¡qué chiste!” Harry laughed, but got to say no more before Sev burst into his room, worried he was talking to some sick child who was giving him all her germs.  

“Out,” he said without preamble.  “Harry can’t be around sick people.”

Harry looked at his very surprised friend, who had long brown hair and big dark eyes.  “Sorry, Bee,” he told her. “He’s very protective.”

“She’s not sick,” he explained to Sev.  

“Well then why’s she here?” Severus asked Harry, nervously feeling his forehead.  

“I’m diabetic,” Bee told the professor, politely, in perfect English.  “My blood sugar spiked at dinner, so I’m spending the night as a precaution.”

“I don’t recognise you,” the potions master looked at the girl, still slightly suspicious.

“I’m only a first year,” Bee explained.  “I’m in your first period on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Jennifer Wormwood- but everyone calls me Bee, after my Grandma Honey.”

“Grandma Honey- what is this, a children’s novel?” Severus snorted (he could still be very sarcastic).

“No, I assure you I am quite real,” Bee replied, unable to keep from rolling her eyes.  “The way my parents met could be a children’s novel, though. My mum was in Seville with Grandma Honey on holiday, and she was in the local library reaching for a book when mamá suddenly reached for the very same one.  Their fingers brushed, and it was supposedly love at first sight, or something. Like, la media naranja desde el primero momento, or some cheesy nonsense. But mamá is very dramatic. She says it’s her ‘hot latin blood’ but I’m like, mamá, your family came from Venezuela three generations ago- you’re as white and European as the rest of us.  She doesn’t like it when I say that.”

“Mmmhm,” Severus tried to fight the smile ghosting his lips- the girl was amusing him despite his intentions.

“I’m very sarcastic,” Bee informed him bluntly.  “But you’d be bitter too if there was a whole world of brownies you weren’t allowed to eat.”

“He’s bitter anyway,” Harry informed his new friend.  “Bastante que nosotros se llamamos el murciélago de la mazmorra.”  

“You do kind of look like a bat,” Bee agreed, sizing him up.  Severus scowled and added ‘learn Spanish’ to his Harry-related to-do list, right under ‘make sure he takes his potions’ and ‘keep crazy dark lord from killing him.’

“Are you doing alright, Harry?” he asked, feeling his forehead again.  

“As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, I have a low fever, and Aunt Poppy forced a headache relief potion down my throat, but I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Severus ran a hand along his forehead nervously.  “She wouldn’t have to force you to take potions if you would just tell her when you weren’t feeling well,” he chastised Harry.

The teen smiled cheekily at him.  “I like to leave it a guessing game- it keeps her young,” he joked, and Severus could read between the lines to find the implied “I’m still trying to break the habit of hiding illness because I always got in trouble for it growing up, but I’m working on it.”

“I’ve got to go do some grading in my office,” he told Harry, “but you know to tell Poppy if you need me during the night (ie: I love you, but I’m not going to say it and ruin my reputation in front of a first year).  Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised.

Severus ruffled his hair.  “You couldn’t make it past ten-thirty even if you wanted to.  I was talking to that little jumping bean.” He pointed to bee.

“Hey!” the girl protested.  “Jumping beans are Mexican- in my country, we grow olives.  Well, in my other country.  In this country, we grow storm clouds and neocolonialism.”  Severus snorted very loudly this time despite himself, and there was no disguising the sound of mirth as a snort of derision.  Damn it- getting attached to all these snot-nosed little brats was not what he signed up for (except he sort of did, because he’s a teacher, but also, Dumbledore kind of pushed him into it.  Either way, it’s complicated and kids are like adorable little drugs- they’re bad for your health and you wish you could stop but somehow you want to have more).

Chapter Text

Harry’s friends were very excited come that Friday night, because the next day they were going to have a workshop to start the process of turning into animagi- first came the meditative stage, where they would find out what their forms would be.  The graduates from Hogsmeade had come in for the night, and despite being able to sleep in since they didn’t have school anymore and it was their gap year, they were all yawning.

“What’s wrong with you guys?” Millie asked as Viktor fell asleep with his head on Ron’s chest (Ron, who missed his boyfriend dearly even though he saw him six days a week for TDT club and date nights on Sundays, was smiling like a loon).

“Ze take down toad club, it takes a lot out of us,” Fleur said, yawning as she leaned into Malala, who was holding an extra hijab in her hands as she did some embroidery work on it.

“I’m fine, and I do TDT and school.  You’re all turning into a bunch of Harry’s,” Pansy remarked.  Harry would have resented that comparison, but he was asleep on Draco’s lap, the snakes on his tattoo snoozing also.

“Just because you have unlimited reserves of energy and run on rage and the terror of your victims does not mean everyone else has the same type of endurance,” Cedric told Pansy, then promptly covered his face in case she tried to exact retribution for his cheeky comment.  

“Oh, relax, I’m not gonna hit you,” Pansy rolled her eyes at him.  “I may be a lesbian, but I can still appreciate the aesthetic of your pretty-boy face- it’d be like punching a greek sculpture.”

Before Cedric could figure out a good response to that, Tonks stepped through the floo.  “Whatup losers?! Oh, by the way, I’m Tonks.”

“We’re familiar,” Pansy said, eyeing her appreciatively (her hair was midnight blue today, and down to her chest in tight curls, and she was taller than the last time Harry had seen her, with long, muscular legs that made straight girls reevaluate the concept of straightness).  “Harry said you were a lesbian, but my gaydar is getting a hint of… pansexual?”

“Got it in one, luv,” Tonks laughed, and Harry, who had gradually come awake from his nap, gave Pansy a betrayed look.

“You said flannel meant they were lesbians!”

“No,” Pansy corrected, “I said all lesbians wear flannel.  There’s a difference. Besides,” she pointed to Tonks’ outfit, “you have to take in the whole ensemble.  She’s got the bisexual leather jacket, the lesbian combat boots, the butch aviator goggles- put them all together and you have the obvious formula for pansexual.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned and flopped back into Draco’s lap.  “Sexuality is complicated.”

“Good thing you’re already with the love of your life then, you big dork.  You’ll never have to worry about it. You’re bi, by the way,” Pansy informed him, and Harry blushed at the whole ‘love of your life’ part (it was true, but still, Pansy !) while Draco cast suspicious looks at every single girl in the room.

“So, what’re you doing here?” he turned to his god-cousin, effectively changing the subject.

“It’s my night off, and at first I went to the club, but after decidedly lackluster sex with the bartender in the bathroom, I decided to come here and see you guys.”

“TMI!” Harry covered his ears, wishing he was still being embarrassed by Pansy telling the whole room his fathomless love for his boyfriend.

“Was she cute?” Susan asked- and wait, weren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be innocent?  (Haha, that’s a fun stereotype. Why don’t you ask them about it while they all get high).

“It was a guy,” Tonks said, as Harry put his fingers in his ears with a “lalalala!”

“That explains it,” Pansy stated authoritatively.  “Guys are like golfers- all they can think about is going straight to the hole.”

“So, is everyone excited about their animagus training?” Neville broke in (Merlin bless that sweet child).

“I have actually been training already,” Viktor said.  “I have done everyzhing I need to do for ze surprise mezhod, because I vas thinking it vould be exciting.”  The surprise method was not often used because it required a lengthy potion to brew and ingest the month preceding the transformation, but Viktor had the time, as he was on his gap year.

“Well, let’s see it,” Blaise demanded, waving his hands in a ‘hurry up’ motion.

“You can’t rush these things; give him time,” Hannah chastised the Slytherin, as Krum closed his eyes and began to concentrate (the first transformation efforts were always funny to watch because the person looked constipated as they scrunched their face in focus.  Harry, of course, never had that milestone, as he achieved his animagus form accidentally).

Krum was a gifted wizard (he was a Triwizard Champion, after all), so it only took about twenty minutes before he began to change.  His face grew longer, his arms grew shorter, and his body grew wider, and Ron scrambled back with a surprise yelp as the boyfriend he’d had his arm around was suddenly a large Great White Shark.  A Great White Shark that couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck, what do we do?” Millie asked, as Tonks ran to try to help and instead tripped over Viktor’s shark-body.

“The prefects bathroom!” Hermione exclaimed.  “Harry, apparate him there!” Harry rushed frantically to do so, and Tonks, who was currently lying on top of Viktor, and Ron, who was frantically pouring his water bottle into his boyfriend’s gills, were taken with them.

“Ron, the taps!” Harry yelled as they all landed with a thump at the bottom of the empty tub.

“I’m trying!” Ron had been afflicted with the very real problem of being unable to figure out how to work someone else’s shower head at the worst possible time.

“You do an augmenti charm,” Tonks told Ron, taking control of the situation.  “I was a prefect, so I can do it. I was high most of the times I was in here, but I think I remember how it works.”  In two minutes, the tub was filled, but Viktor was still breathing heavily.

“He’s a Great White- they’re ocean sharks!” Ron panicked.  

“Epsom salts!” Harry suddenly exclaimed, rushing to the drawer that held all the bath materials.

“Great- that’ll totally help with his period cramps!” Tonks yelled sarcastically.

“No,” Harry corrected her as he cast a summoning charm for the container.  “It’s safe to ingest- I used to take a little when the Dursleys hadn’t fed me in a while, because the calcium and vitamin D in it would help keep me standing so I finished my chores.  It’s just salt with some added stuff that’ll help him breathe better while he changes back. I mean, he’ll have the runs afterwards, but it’s a trade-off.” Harry shrugged.

“We’re gonna talk about that later,” Tonks said, disbelieving- yeah, she kind of had an idea that Harry hadn’t been treated super well before Hogwarts, or else Minerva wouldn’t have been able to adopt him, but this…

“It’s cool- I have a therapist,” Harry said breezily, and Tonks didn’t know how he could genuinely seem so untroubled about it ( unless they did a lot worse, a little voice in her head said, but she pushed it back down- she didn’t want to, couldn’t consider the possibility).

They all kind of sat around for an hour as the rest of their friends streamed in and Harry coached Krum through the process of changing back and he eventually managed it.

“Make big tank and take me to ze Dursleys,” he said immediately as soon as he had vocal cords again.  “I eat zhem.” Then he let out a long, angry stream of Bulgarian. As a language, it was similar enough to Russian that Harry, with the amount he knew from his old ‘friend’ in primary school, could tell that Minerva would be hard pressed to beat Viktor in a swearing contest.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, “they’re not worth it.  Plus, I’m pretty sure we couldn’t get a Great White through the front door of Privet Drive without raising some serious questions.”

“Anyvone has a problem, I eat zhem too,” Viktor growled, putting a protective hand on Harry’s shoulder.  

“This is why I can’t tell you guys things,” Harry rolled his eyes.  “You can’t just murder everyone I have a problem with.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Pansy butt in, “but I have no inherent moral objections to murder and I know how not to get caught.”

Harry sighed and looked at his watch.  “It’s 11 o’clock at night- I’m going to bed and hereby remove myself from any culpability that comes from this situation.”  He popped away, taking Draco (because it was sleepover night and Harry’s a koala bear that loves to cuddle), and Pansy looked at Viktor.

“It’s too far to Privet Drive from Hogwarts,” she said, “but I know Umbitch is with the centaurs this week and I have a new set of knives I wanna test.  Come with?”

“Vith pleasure,” Viktor agreed, holding his arm out to escort the lady to their torture session.  

“Wait!” Fleur yelled after them.  “I am coming too! Malala will stay here, I zhink, because ze zhings we do is not ‘alal- toad blood eez not on ze list of approved animals.”

“‘Ave fun, Habibat Albi,” the Pakistani woman told her girlfriend.  “Make sure you shower before you come to bed.”

“I burn zhese clothes,” Fleur said, a disgusted expression on her face.  “Zhat woman weel not disgrace my mozher’s linens weeth her awful venom.”

Ron looked at Hermione, Millie, and Malala.  “Are you ever just a little bit afraid of our partners?” he asked.  

“Oh yeah,” Hermione agreed immediately.  “Such a turn-on.” There were a series of

nods from the other girls, and Ron too, decided rather quickly that Viktor’s look of righteous vengeance was actually super hot.  

Chapter Text

After Viktor’s unlucky first transformation, nobody else was allowed to do the surprise pathway.  That Saturday was spent in meditation, and the actual day of first transformations was set for Sunday in the come-and-go room.  They’d all kept their forms a secret from each other, because they thought it would be fun to find out during the initial transformations.

Harry, Sarah, Sirius, and Julian were there to guide the transformations, being animagi themselves and unencumbered by the Hogwarts business Minnie and Sev were taking care of.  All the students and the new graduates were joined by Bill and Tonks, who thought it would be fun to become animagi, and Remus, although he didn’t want to try the transformation himself (he’d maybe try eventually, but for now he was perfectly content to stay human), was there to oversee the situation in case things went wrong.

“Pretty interesting room,” Harry remarked as they walked in to find the place decorated with a bunch of mini-habitats, with everything from little ponds to copses of trees.  There was even a small pocket of snow and ice and a little fire built over some hot coals (no prizes for guessing who headed straight over there).

“Well, we are a pretty varied group,” Hermione remarked.  “Should we get started?”

“Okay,” Harry agreed.  “I’ll take the warmer habitats, Sarah, you can head over by the cold stuff, and Julian, could you take the wet parts?”

“Sure,” the two adults agreed, and Harry put himself in the lotus position as all his students gathered around him.

[Sapphire’s spied on some Hufflepuffs going into the kitchen and now she knows to tickle the pear; the elves are going insane as they try to stop the invisible snake eating all the sweets.]

Minerva poured herself a neat scotch as the heads of houses settled down to their meeting in the staffroom.  Filius raised the height on his swivel chair so he could look the rest of his colleagues in the face, and Pomona idly munched a carrot stick as she leafed through her notes.  Severus chewed the end of the quill in a surprisingly human gesture that most of his students wouldn’t be able to picture him doing as he stared at some formulae he’d scribbled on a loose piece of parchment.  

“So, I think we should talk about the elephant in the room,” Minnie opened as she sipped the amber liquid in her glass (meanwhile, in the come-and-go/room of requirement, an actual elephant came into the room as Dean trumpeted in exaltation at his success).

“You mean the old goat in the room,” Pomona said savagely as she crunched her vegetable more aggressively.

“Whatever we call him,” Flitwick said, “the point is that he’s never around.  He-who-must-not-be-named is back, and there’s a war about to start. The man who lead us last time is clearly not fit to do it now, and the ministry put a woman in our school who used an illegal dark artefact on a student.  We need some sort of system laid in place, because the one we have now isn’t even functioning nominally.”

“Do we bring the Order back, then?” Pomona asked.

“If we do, it needs some adjustments in the modus operandi ,” Severus pointed out.  “The rules Albus made last time put us at a serious disadvantage.  We cannot be using stunning spells and trying to avoid causing injury when everyone on the other side is going to be shooting to kill.”

“I would have thought that would be obvious,” the head of Gryffindor snorted.  “These are the types of people who cast cruciatus curses on children; we are pulling out all the stops.”

“And the running of the school?”  Filius asked. “The headmaster is too terrified of his own staff these days to do his job; it seems we ought to consider dividing his duties amongst ourselves.”

“Well, you obvvvviously are the best choice to do the routine maintenance on the wards,” Severus told the charms professor, “since they fall most under the heading of charms.”

“I’ll go through Albus’ filing system and look at all his information- I know for a fact he tracks incidences of accidental magic in upcoming students, and I want to go through his book collection and see if there might be anything that could help us,” Minerva volunteered.

“In light of what happened to Harry,” Pomona put forth, “Perhaps we ought to have someone visit muggleborn households after incidents of accidental magic.  Severus- you’re the one who knows what to look for, after all.”

“I… I’ve been known to miss some things,” the potions master hesitated.  “Harry was practically half-dead by the time the Weasley twins figured out what was being done to him, and I didn’t even realise what was happening to Draco, someone in my own house .”

“Nobody catches everything, Severus, but something is better than nothing,” Minerva consoled.  “And maybe Sarah would be willing to help you with more difficult cases.”

“And if we find something, she has ties to the muggle child protection agencies and experience with custody arrangements, so it’s not a bad idea,” Filius added.

“And even with healthy home environments, some explanation of what is happening earlier in life might be useful for the families; I’ve always thought it strange that Albus never sent anyone until the summer before Hogwarts,” Pomona mused.

“It would also give the families time to plan- telling them that their child suddenly has to change their entire educational direction a month or two beforehand is frankly ludicrous,” Minerva agreed.  

Severus had to concede that those were all excellent points.  And yet…

“Are we sure that I’m the best choice for this position?  It involves a lot of… human interaction. ”

“You’ll do fine,” Minerva waved him off.  “You’re better with such things lately. You’ll just have to deal with the fact that you’re part of a team now, and we take care of each other.”

“Oh Merlin- pour me some of that scotch, won’t you?”

[Winky receives her first beat-down pan as Kreacher takes her to her training session with the Dursleys.]

The room of requirement descended further into chaos as limbs turned into paws, hair to fur and feathers, and the sounds of talking became replaced by trumpeting, roaring, growling, flapping, hooting, hopping, tweeting, barking, and chirping.  Above Viktor’s head, a tiny owl ricocheted around (Ron). On the other side of the room, two identical lemurs (Fred and George) swung from tree to tree, throwing Filibuster Fireworks and Fizzing Whizbees about. Fleur, a snow leopard, prowled her artic corner as her intelligent feline eyes watched her girlfriend take the form of a sleek cheetah.  It was a good day for big cats, as Pansy, a magnificent tigress, carried kitten Harry in her mouth as he mewed indignantly. Mia, a lithe black panther, held a paw over her mouth as she let out a growling laugh. Ginny raced along behind Malala as a sleek chestnut horse, carrying on her back a brilliant snowy Owl with large blue eyes just like Luna’s human form.  Millie was a Harpy Eagle, and she soared above Pansy and Mia as they stalked Dean, who, in his elephant form, was putting out a fire that was started as Seamus, a fire salamander, scuttled around leaving sparks where his feet landed.

Tonks was also an amphibian, although she was hanging out in the pond, looking at her feet and wiggling her dorsal fins as she wondered what the hell she was called (an axolotl; she was an axolotl).  Her tadpole-like body kept changing colours as her animal side took over and led her in chase of a particularly tasty-looking fly. Regulus, a black swan, preened for his boyfriend, who had come to watch and was incredibly touched by the fact that his partner’s animagus took after his name.  

Cho balanced in the reeds of Tonks pond, a graceful blue crane looking at peace with the world.  Her boyfriend, a large golden retriever, chased Bill, who, as a little ginger-coloured labrador retriever puppy, had joined Harry in the “eternally tiny baby animagi” category.  Julian, in his form as a Merlin falcon, stood on the ground watching the mess with a sharp eye as Sarah, in her lynx form, licked her paws, unconcerned- it was good for kids to cause a little trouble now and then.  

Hannah, a dove, sat on Neville’s head as the great African Lion picked spines out of his nose from Susan the hedgehog, who had accidentally transformed a little too close to him.  Finally, in the corner of ‘people very discontent with their new forms’ sat Draco and Blaise. Draco did not like being a white ferret, as his friends would surely be laughing about it for ages.  Having the creature as his Patronus was bad enough, but now…

Blaise screeched as he made a valiant effort to change back from Ostrich to human again- the giant, flightless, bald-headed bird was not in keeping with his aesthetic.  Pansy was rolling on the ground with mirth, literally roaring with laughter as Harry took the opportunity to run away from her and pop back from adorable kitten into just-as-adorable human.  He was still sitting there with his arms crossed crankily, holding his just-as-cranky ferret boyfriend while Ginny pranced around them showing off her smooth, collected trot, when Minerva and Severus, finished with their meeting, came to check on the children, and the veritable zoo that met their eyes had them joining in the laughter.  They were pretty accurate with most of their guesses as to who was who, the key word being most .

“Where’s Blaise?” Severus asked eventually, as he collected himself after a long bout of laughter.  “Should I be scanning the ground for a snake of some sort.”

Harry got over his crankiness as he smiled widely.  “Over there,” he jabbed a thumb to where the normally-elegant Slytherin had his head buried in the sand.  Severus, who had just caught his breath, suddenly lost it again as he actually slapped his knee.

“Blaise seems rather cranky,” Minerva remarked as she watched the angry ostrich glaring at his head of house.  “Maybe he’s having trouble laying an egg.”

They all realised Blaise’s form was more useful than it looked when they watched the flightless bird-boy rush the professors.  When you consider that ostriches can run up to sixty miles an hour, it was actually far more terrifying than it sounded.

Chapter Text

“Wow, Harry- it seems you’ve actually got a lot more support than we thought,” Hermione remarked the next morning as she read The Daily Prophet, the front headline of which blared Pro-Potter Groups Popping Up All Over Britain, Raising the Question: Is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Really as Dead as Ministry Claims?  

“And it’s not written by Rita Skeeter, so we know it has some credibility,” Millie remarked as she ignored her toast in favour of nibbling Mia’s ear instead.  

“The Quibbler has been publishing pro-Harry articles as well,” Luna informed them.  “Daddy told me, but for some reason my copy has been mailed late.” The reason was provided them as a paper suddenly materialised by each plate, labelled New Ministry Rules for Hogwarts .  Up at the head table, the teachers looked thunderous.  They hadn’t authorised this.

The list read as follows:

1. Any student caught in possession of the magazine The Quibbler shall be punished.
2. No music shall be played in the castle, especially during study hours.
3. All Muggle devices are henceforth banned.
4. No non-educational toys and games shall be allowed within the walls of the castle.  Violators will be punished.
5. Students found to be in possession of a spell-check quill shall be punished.
6. All student organisations and clubs are henceforth disbanded.  Violators will be expelled.
7. Hogwarts shall be subject to informational scrutiny by a ministry employee.
8. Broom practice is henceforth disbanded, and quidditch disbanded until further notice.
9. The upsetting events of last year shall not be discussed; violators will be expelled.
10. Any products made by Messrs. Fred and George Weasley are henceforth banned.
11. Pets shall be confined to the dormitory and owls to the owelry
12. All student mail is subject to search and seizure; owls shall be tagged.  
13. Healthcare shall be given only in the manner of approved potions and spells.
14. Students who spend more than three days in the Hogwarts hospital wing per month shall be mandated transfer to St. Mungo’s for evaluation of their ability to remain in the school population.

This list has been created, approved, and signed by Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Cornelius Fudge.

It had been a while since any of Severus’ students had seen that weird little vein in his temple, but now it looked like it was about to pop out of his forehead and get into its own chair.  If the line in Minerva’s lips was any thinner, they would disappear altogether. Harry felt terrible- the rules about Muggle medical supplies were clearly meant to target him, but Bee, a diabetic who needed muggle insulin injections, was going to get caught up in the crossfire.  All throughout the hall were cries such as “No spellcheck quills- but I’m dyslexic!” And, “are they gonna get rid of the tellies in the common room- We’re in the middle of The X-Factor?!”

“Attention students!” Minerva boomed in her most authoritative voice, “this list is highly illegal and unauthorised by the Board of Governors or the Hogwarts Faculty.  Feel free not only to ignore these rules but to openly flout them. Classes are cancelled for the day while we sort this out. Pansy Parkinson, please gather all your favourite intimidation supplies and meet us at the head table with Hermione Granger- we are going to pay a visit to The Daily Prophet, where Rita Skeeter will finally make herself useful.”

Severus took out a copy of The Quibbler, his entire expression saying “I’m not a student- try me, bitch!”  He duplicated it and sent another to Luna with a flick of his wand, who happily put on her spectrespects and started reading (it was upside-down, obviously).

Hagrid stood up from his chair.  “Attention!” he boomed. “I just got a raise, so I’m going ter buy one product from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes for every student in school!”

The twins stood up.  “We appreciate that Hagrid- and we’re giving you 60% off your entire order!”

“Spell-check quills for the whole school!” Flitwick cried, rapidly charming regular quills with the complicated spell that most student wizards rejected in favour of paying more to buy them pre-charmed.  

“Dance Party in the astronomy tower!” Professor Sinistra announced, pulling out a muggle boombox.

“Pets are to be let loose throughout the school!” Professor Vector yelled a battle cry.

“Beach Ball Quidditch after lunch!” Hooch screamed, pumping her fist.  

“We talk about whatever the fuck we want!” Charity Burbage cheered as she begam summoning every muggle device she could think of from her quarters.  

“Anarchy over tyranny!” Pomona Sprout declared.  “We will not be defeated!”

“Huzzah!” the cry rang out amongst the student body.  

“WE BELIEVE HARRY!” yelled the entirety of TDT, which was essentially the entire school, except for a couple of first years who were too terrified of Pansy to sign up (Pansy is great with kids though, and their friends are currently working on convincing them to try it out), and a few seventh years who were honestly so fucking done what’s the goddamn point anyway?

[Rita is delighted to be able to publish some sensational news without activating her curse, although Harry was not to be included, instead it would simply say that “Umbridge used a blood quill on a student.”]

Fudge was in his office the next morning when he was suddenly hit over the head with a giant pile of smoking red envelopes, which all began screaming at once.  There were four that could clearly be heard over all the others, however.

“HONESTLY, YOU FOOL!  YOU CALL YOURSELF A MINISTER, BULLYING CHILDREN!” Molly Weasley’s voice was unmistakable.   “BANNING MEDICAL SUPPLIES- STUDENTS COULD HAVE DIED!  AND TARGETING SMALL BUSINESS- NOT MY SONS, YOU SON OF A BITCH!  YOU STEP ONE TOE OUT OF LINE, OLD MAN, AND WE’LL KICK YOUR ARSE STRAIGHT OUT OF OFFICE!”

“CORNELIUS ARCHIBALD FUDGE!”   Poppy Pomfrey was middle-naming people, which only happened right before she shoved a naughty patient down and shoved a needle in them (metaphorically, in this case). “HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE WITH HOW I DO MY JOB- I HAVE YOUR MEDICAL RECORDS, YOUNG MAN, AND IF YOU’RE APPARENTLY OKAY WITH FORCING ME TO BREAK MY OATH AS A HEALER, I’LL BREAK IT ALL OVER YOUR REPUTATION AND TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THE TIME I HAD TO TREAT YOU FOR IMPROPERLY USING THAT ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION SPELL AND RESPECT FOR YOU WILL SHRINK LIKE YOUR WEENIE!”  

“HAVEN’T YOU MESSED WITH MY SON ENOUGH, YOU MOTHERFUCKING BOWLER-FUCKER?!” Minerva’s voice screamed right into his ear (she’d charmed the envelope to open right there and not move, no matter what he did).   “YOU WANT A SMEAR CAMPAIGN, YOU SICK BASTARD- I’LL SCRAPE OUT YOUR INSIDES AND SMEAR THEM AROUND LIKE A MUGGLE GYNECOLOGIST!  STAY AWAY FROM MY SCHOOL, STAY AWAY FROM MY STUDENTS, STAY AWAY FROM MY SON !”

“¡HIJO DE PUTA!  NO ME JODAS CON ESTA MIERDA- ¡VOY A ASESINAR SU CULO SI TRATES A PREVENIR EL TRATAMIENTO DE LA INSULINA SOLAMENTE PORQUE ERES UN GRAN INTOLERANTE!  ¡PUDIERA MATAR A MI HIJA!” Fudge didn’t speak Spanish, but he had a feeling the parent over the howler wasn’t inviting him out for tacos (which of course was a gross stereotype- while tacos are of course a key food in some Spanish-Speaking countries, there are also arepas, paella, tapas, jamón ibérico, tamales, ceviche, empanadas, enchiladas con mole, chorizo, burritos, ropa vieja, chiles rellenos, elotes, medianoche, fricasé de pollo, Pernil asado con mojo, bocadillos cubanos, pastelitos de guayaba, carnitas, flan, tres leches, pupusas, chicharrones… ay, que joder, tengo hambre).

The noise suddenly stopped and burst into a flame that singed Cornelius’ eyebrows and ruined his favourite (hideous) bowler hat before one final howler got right up in his face, opened its envelope, and said, in the eerily quiet and silky voice of Severus Snape, “watch your back.”  As the embers of the red envelopes perfumed his office with their smoky musk, a newspaper drifted down to his desk, the headline of which said Fudge Hires Torturers; Authorises Violation of Students’ Rights. ”  Que joder indeed.  

Chapter Text

“Well, I must say, we do not look at all suspicious carrying this large box into the forbidden forest at night,” Severus sarcastically informed his colleague.

“Oh, shut up- who’s even out here to see us that would have a problem with it?” Minerva quipped back as they carried the heavy storage crate to thee centaur village, plus another empty one that was significantly larger and longer.  “Besides, everyone else has got to have their fun with her- it’s only fair that we get our turn, especially if it’s educational.”

“We’re already pushing the boundaries of legality just by having her in the forest, bringing her into the school for student demonstrations might be a bit much,” Severus added, but even to him this objection sounded weak- he had a number of lessons that his conscience wouldn’t allow for due to the need of using innocent animals as demonstrations (killing animals for potions ingredients was one thing, but some of these potions, while educationally valuable, would cause significant distress to the recipient- and that’s if they were done properly in the first place).

“Oh, who’s going to stop us?  The minister ?” Minerva put mocking emphasis on the word.  “Last I heard, a number of his own employees have strung him up on the weathervane with a wedgie machine invented by the Weasley twins.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me,” Severus agreed (not that he really needed any convincing in the first place).  “But first we kill her darlings right in front of her.” They’d reached the centaur village and were admitted by Firenze and taken to the big tree were Umbridge was hanging in a large net, looking far worse for wear (she was covered in a number of half-healed burns, cuts, and some very suspicious looking goo.  The dragon pox were gone, as a few treatments had been administered by the centaurs when they found out the teachers were coming to take her back- Harry, even though he’d just had the pox (which was like chicken pox in that normally it was only caught once in a lifetime) and was on his immunotherapy regimen, could easily get them again were the bitch allowed back in with all those pox germs).  She did, however, have a number of very apparent pockmarks scarring her face, which she had (for some strange reason) been very proud of before.

“You can’t do this to me!”  She wailed- “It’s illegal! The minister shall have your head for this!”

Severus looked at her with a deadpan expression on his face.  “It’s also illegal to steal a child’s medical supplies- which came through private mail - and then subject him to hours of torture.  You can’t just pick and choose. And the minister shan’t be the minister much longer, as even now impeachment procedures are in progress.”  The woman’s even-more-hideous-face dropped in horror.

“Look,” Minerva said, “this is what would have happened if Stephen King had painted The Scream .”

Severus rolled his eyes.  “You and your muggle horror novels, woman- isn’t daily life terrifying enough for you?”

“If you mean dealing with you every day, then yes, yes it is,” she quipped at him, and he gave her an unimpressed expression.

“Insultory humour is my thing, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, just open the box.”  Dolores’ let out a shrill scream as the kitten plates from her old office were taken out of the box and blasted to bits in front of her, one by one.

“There,” Minerva said, “I feel much better now that we’ve released those poor kitties from the horror of what they’ve seen by hanging in her office.  Now, let’s get her back to the school. She’s got a busy day of lessons ahead of her.”  Minerva’s eyes were very predatory as the centaurs helped them shove a screaming toad-bitch into the coffin-like transport.

[Pansy has taken Bee under her scarred wing; such a joy this child will be once she’s been taught to throw knives.]

“Today we will be brewing Bloodroot potion,” Severus announced with a flourish as he flounced into the classroom, tired but exalted. His cloak flapped behind him dramatically- he had embraced the fabulous.  Because it was the first class of the day, his hair had not yet been weighed down by all the potions grease (insert L'oreal ‘because you’re worth it’ meme here).

“It’s a beautiful morning,” he told them as he pulled a cloth-covered cage out from under the desk, and the students looked at each other in shock- Severus Snape might be a decent human being now, but cheerful was not something that could be used to describe him.

“Who died?” Neville asked bluntly- because it must be the death of one of his many enemies that had the man practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“We are all blessed to be alive today, Mr. Longbottom,” Severus answered, but his attitude made more sense as he pulled the velvet cover off of a tank containing a large green toad with a number of odd, scar-like markings.

“Sir, is that Umbridge in that cage?” Ernie Macmillan asked.

“What- no, this is a perfectly average toad,” the professor answered in a not-at-all suspicious tone.

“And the pink bow?” Theodore Nott asked.

“She- it,” Severus corrected himself, “just likes to feel pretty.  Now, everyone have your bezoars?”

[Lily and James scribble on their notes as the wonder if they’ll have time to add Umbitch to their Halloween torture schedule; perhaps they’ll just have to let the teachers and Creatures/Kreachers continue with their excellent work on her- between the Dursleys and Dumbledore, they’ve got a rather packed agenda that day.]

The students conveniently pretended not to notice that the human transfigurations they studied in Minerva’s class produced from the suspiciously Umbridge-looking woman a toad that looked a lot like the one they’d repeatedly poisoned and revived in Snape’s lesson.  

“Don’t worry class,” Filius told them as they worked on various jinxes and hexes in charms class, “our subject today is here of her own free will.”  Umbridge didn’t object, as there was a gagged tied to her mouth. By the end of the hour, the woman tied to the chair sported a number of oddly-coloured growths and had a lovely tentacle coming out of the small of her back.  Flitwick gave them all points for creativity.

First year flying lessons were interesting that day as they played quidditch with a large pink quaffle with Umbridge’s terrified face on it (it was Umbridge; it was just transfigured Umbridge).  It sported a large pink bow in the middle, and extra points were awarded if anyone managed to smack the bow while they tossed the quaffle-bitch about.

“Now,” Hooch said about halfway through the lesson, “let’s put a little muggle in our magic.”  She handed them all baseball bats.

Perhaps the most amusing lessons that day, however, were CoMC, where Hagrid had a large crate of Mackled Malaclaws   “Today we’re going to see what happens when you get stung by one a these,” he told them, tossing a potato sack with Umbridge’s head sticking out the top into the crate of blue and gray lobster-like creatures.

The magic crustaceans scattered from the sack.  They began scuttling around to form words with their bodies.

“NO!” they spelled.  “WE WON’T TOUCH THAT- BITING IT WILL CAUSE US MISFORTUNE!”  

“Oh,” Hagrid’s face fell, as Umbridge railed at the misfortunate lobsters that they’d be lucky to bite something so melodious as her (how deluded she was), “that didn’t go as planned.”

Chapter Text

Remus hadn’t gotten to get in on the Umbitch torture game the day before, because he’d been busy setting up for his own lesson with her.  When the fifth years filed into their lesson the next day, there was a similar sort of obstacle course to the one they’d had their third year final, only it looked much more dangerous.

“Alright, let me at some beasts!” Pansy cheered, strapping extra daggers to her calves and pulling her wand out of its holster.  “I always thought third year’s course was a little dull, professor- no offence, of course,” she added at the end.

“None taken,” Remus remarked with a wry smile.  “But, fortunately for the creatures in the course, you will not be going through- none of the students will.  It is a demonstration, to see how the various magical beasts react to human and animal presence.”

“So who’s gonna…” Ron began.

“Severus- if you would?” the ex-werewolf called, and Snape stepped into the classroom from the back entrance, levitating a stunned Umbridge.  

“Ahhhh…” the redhead realised- this was not going to be so much a lesson as another fun activity for the adults.  

“Come on, in you get,” Remus told the woman brusquely, releasing her from the stunning spell and shoving her screeching into the maze of clear glass walls (so everyone could watch, of course).

“What’s happening?”  Draco asked as he pressed his nose to the glass- Umbridge was screaming and batting at herself, but they couldn’t see anything attacking her.

“Ah yes, the first creature is an infestation of chizpurfles, which is where I got Professor Snape involved- he coated her in the leftover potion from the bottom of your cauldrons.  As you may remember, chizpurfles are drawn to magical substances like wand cores and potions residue for their meals, although they may make do with muggle electric devices in a pinch,” Professor Lupin explained as Umbridge ran screaming into the next obstacle.

“Billywigs,” Harry said as he watched his old tormentor get stung by several at once and start hovering uncontrollably, yelping as the bites swelled up and she found herself turned upside down.

“Some Australian wizards use their stings to get high,” Remus told them.  “As you can see, it often turns out badly for them. Don’t do drugs, kids.”

“Puh-lease,” Pansy rolled her eyes at him.  “I saw you and Professor McGonagall lighting up with Professor Sprout near the staffroom.”

“Those were herbal remedies,” Remus defended.  “Our jobs are very stressful.”

“Oh, here comes the fwooper,” Hermione rubbed her hands together in anticipation.  “Good thing these walls are soundproof.”

The purpose of the fwooper was quickly made clear to them, as the insanity produced by the cry led Umbridge into consuming the glumbumble treacle laid out on a plate for her, and her melancholy wailing, while not heard in the soundproof maze, was clearly quite distressing, as the woman began pulling her own hair out in accompaniment to her cries.

“We’ve also coated her in erumpent musk,” Severus smirked as the rhino-like creature charged the woman, caught a glimpse of her up close, and ran quickly away, trumpeting a horrified scream.  Not before she’d been shoved into a tree, however.

“This is the last creature we could get a hold of on such short notice,” Remus told them as the woman ran towards the end of the maze, “and you may thank our contacts in América for that.”  Nancy hadn’t questioned why they’d wanted a snallygaster- she assumed they’d had a good reason, and the zoo in New York was looking to offload one, anyway. Hagrid would keep it afterwards.

The curious dragon-like creature, a cousin to the occamy, decided a little taste of whatever the thing in its enclosure was might be fun, but it’s serrated-steel fangs had only shredded through the outer layer of her sweater and just begun to draw blood when it made a face, shook its head, and backed away spitting.  Harry couldn’t blame the poor dear as he sent sympathetic feelings with his own magic towards that of the creature, a young male of only two or three, judging by the magical signature radiating off of it.

When Umbridge made it through the other side of the maze, Severus, who had been waiting, stunned her, transfigured her into a toad, and sent her through again.  The animals had all learned their lessons from last time, however, and she was so repugnant that none of them would go near her. As she hopped toward the exit, the curious snallygaster also took the opportunity to make an escape, but none of the students even put forth the effort it would take to run screaming from the XXXX-rated animal, and altogether, nobody was surprised when the feathery dragon-bird made its way towards Harry and gave the teen an affectionate and surprisingly gentle nudge before the teachers even had time to raise their wands.

“ Of course the dangerous beast is besotted with Harry,” Severus groaned as he dropped his wand arm (he’d only raised it out of a frantic protective instinct- practicality and experience had shown him there was rarely a need to worry about the teen, at least around dangerous animals).

“We should have thought about the possible repercussions before we brought a roomful of animals in contact with a teenager who makes every living thing fall head-over-heels for him,” Remus agreed, watching as the snallygaster gave a cooing screech, happily rubbing against Harry’s shoulder.

[From beyond the veil, James and Lily are delighted that their son has another dangerous pet to protect him from those who would cause him harm.]

“It’s great that you have a new friend, babe, but did you have to bring him on our date?” Draco asked his boyfriend as they picnicked in the room of requirement after classes ended.  

“I tried to get him to stay with Hagrid,” Harry sighed, petting the feathery head lying contentedly in his lap, “but he’s apparently still traumatised by his experience with Umbridge- he’s very determined to stay with me, for the moment.”

“He’s gonna end up going with us to astronomy tonight, isn’t he?” Draco resigned himself, offering the snallygaster the crusts from his sandwich.  

“I mean, if he managed to fit through the portrait-hole in Gryffindor tower, I think it’s pretty obvious that he has no qualms about following me into tight spaces,” Harry said as the snallygaster looked at him with adoring eyes from his position on the teenager`s lap.

“You know that I love everything about you, but the fact that everyone and everything else usually does as well can present a bit of a difficulty,” Draco grumbled as he leaned in to kiss Harry.  The snallygaster watched in fascination. The blonde pulled back.

“Ugh,” he exhaled in frustration.  “We’re gonna have to name this thing Perv, aren’t we?”

“Don’t listen to him, Snally,” Harry told his new pet as he covered the spaces where his ears would be.  “You’re innocent and pure.”

“ Snally ?” Draco snorted.  “ Snally the Snallygaster?!”  

“Better than Perv,” Harry retaliated.  “But seriously, Snals- we’re trying to make out here, so why don’t you just take the leftovers and go munch over there?” he pointed to a spot a few feet away, and Snally looked at him suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised, and the creature reluctantly grabbed the basket in his mouth and inched away to give the two humans some alone time as Draco eagerly pushed his boyfriend down onto the blanket.

[Minerva chuckles as she takes photos of Harry and Snally to send back to Nancy.]

“How long is he gonna be glued to you, exactly?” Ron asked Harry as Snally curled up by the Gryffindor table as they ate breakfast that Friday morning.

“I’m sure he’ll be ready to go off on his own and be a little more independent soon ,” Harry said dubiously as Snally munched on a platter of kippers.  “And besides- if anyone should be complaining, it’s me- he is such a bedhog.”

“Maybe we should just tell him he has to go somewhere else for a while?” Dean suggested.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea; tell the quadruple X-rated creature with the literal knife-teeth that he has to leave,” Pansy rolled her eyes at their friend- the ideas these Gryffindors came up with sometimes, honestly …

“If anyone could scare him away, it would be you Pans,” Draco hinted- he was a little tired of sharing his boyfriend with a jealous Snallygaster.

“Aw, but he likes me,” Pansy protested, “besides, how could you wanna scare away that wittle face?” she cooed, as Snally leaned into her scratches on his feathery head.

“Okay, so the dangerous creature gets all her affection, but we get scary smacks-a-lot Pansy whenever we so much as show up late for TDT,” Ron protested.

“Grow knives for teeth, Weasel, and maybe such gross negligence as missing the ten minute conditioning routine because you got distracted by Winky’s fresh biscuits wouldn’t matter so much- you’re useless in a war with that weakling human body unless you train it,” Pansy told him bluntly (tough love was kind of her thing- that and just tough in general).

“Speaking of war,” Hermione added as she read the paper, “more and more Pro-Harry groups are popping up.  Fudge has tried to outlaw them, but that’s kind of unsuccessful when one of the organisations is made up entirely of aurors and hit-wizards.”

“Speaking of hit wizards and Unspeakables,” Harry said as he buttered his toast, “Uncle Sev told me that one of his contacts in the Department of Mysteries says Dumbledore’s been spending a lot of time there lately.”

“Who knows what that crazy old goat is up to?” Fred sighed as he spooned a second servings of eggs onto Harry’s plate.  “How he even has access there is beyond me.”

“Oh, speaking of cloak and dagger stuff,” Harry continued.  “Sev says he’d be willing to start teaching us all occlumency, just as a precaution.  We could start tomorrow.”

“How’d that come up?” Susan asked- it seemed a bit random, honestly.  

“Oh, well I was telling him how I remembered how Dumbledore once tried to do legilimency on me in second year,” Harry said nonchalantly (it was sad, but he was used to far greater violations of privacy that made this one seem small in perspective).  “Then his face got all purple and he went to yell at the headmaster, I guess, and later I got a note about occlumency lessons.”

“Let’s do it,” Pansy enthused.  “I’d love to learn how to kick arse with some mind magics.”

“You love kicking arse with any kind of anything,” Blaise rolled his eyes at her.

“Watch it, bird-boy- we may be like, the best of friends or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kick yours.”

Chapter Text

“Are you ready for Occlumency lessons?”  Harry asked his friends as they walked down to the dungeon.

“If I wasn’t, would I be here?” Pansy rolled her eyes at him as Snally sidled up closer to Harry, happily bumping Harry gently on the shoulders with his head.  

“Do you ever answer a question normally ?” Ron looked at Pansy in exasperation (fond exasperation, of course- also slightly terrified exasperation).  

“Define normally ,” Luna butt in.  “It’s really a rather abstract concept,” she added serenely.

“Dear Merlin, Snape’s gonna have fun with this group,” Neville groaned.

“Isn’t that character development, that he even volunteered- it’s almost like we’re in a different story than we were four years ago,” Seamus agreed.

Just because he’d volunteered to teach them didn’t mean Severus was looking forward to trying to wrangle a bunch of crazy teenagers into staying quiet long enough to learn to barricade their thoughts- he felt it was necessary, because they would likely be the first youth targeted by Voldemort in the coming war, but the idea of the next few hours, and all the lessons to come after that, had him fighting off the urge to pour a firewhisky.

“Sevvy,” Pansy called gleefully, “your faves are he-errre!”

Severus took just one quick swig from the bottle to give himself the necessary strength before he quickly banished it to the cabinet and looked up.

“Still can’t get the snallygaster to go to his new paddock at Hagrid’s?” the potions master asked Harry, one of the few students he wasn’t anticipating too many problems with.

“At least I finally managed to convince him to stand outside the bathroom stall,” the teenager sighed.  Snally cooed happily behind him as he put his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Snallygasters have roughly the same lifespan as humans, so essentially this little guy is still a toddler- a very curious toddler,” Ginny (who had the same fascination for visible animals as Luna did for invisible ones) supplied as she gently batted Snally’s head away from where it was trying to look up her skirt.  

“Great- not even sixteen and we already have a child,” Draco groaned- their weekly Friday night sleepover in Harry’s bed had resulted in their little feathery toddler shoving himself between them to cuddle.

“So essentially, he’ll be ready for daycare soon,” Blaise smirked as he looked at his friend.  “Then you can have a few hours to do the laundry and clean the house.”

“I resent the implication that I’m the amo de casa in this relationship,” Draco snapped.  “We’re a modern gay couple; we can both have jobs.  Besides- I know how to do neither of those things.”

“Don’t worry babe; I’ll take care of it,” Harry looked fondly at his boyfriend, tweaking his ear.

“You don’t have to,” Draco immediately responded, thinking about the only reason Harry knew how to keep house at fifteen years old.  “I’ll learn- or we’ll get an elf- and pay them, because by then house elves will have been taught they are worthy of respect.”  They really had high hopes for their society (or SPEW, as the others still teasingly called it).

“Would you two dorks stop planning twenty years ahead,” Pansy interrupted their domestic fantasies.  “I wanna learn how to kick people out of my mind and send them screaming to their mummies!”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Severus explained, thinking longingly of the bottle of firewhisky in the cabinet- perhaps sharing it with Minerva as they complained about certain students (they know who they are).  “Occlumency is a delicate and difficult art that involves a careful balance, not unlike potions.”

“So you’re gonna teach us how to ensnare the mind and bewitch the senses ?” Harry teased with a cheeky smile on his face.  Severus looked at him with a stunned and somewhat troubled expression.

“You’re supposed to laugh, you know,” Harry reminded him, but Severus just kept looking at him.

“You remember that?” he gasped.  He gave the same speech every year; almost nobody took it seriously.  

“Course I do; I wrote it down,” Harry shrugged.  “You told us to.”

“And I took points from you for not paying attention,” Severus groaned.

“Can you maybe try with the self-reproach later?” the teen prompted gently.  “It’s really not relevant to the lesson.”

“Merlin, he’s turning into Minerva,” Pansy whispered with a giggle to Millie- It’s not relevant to the lesson was one of the Transfiguration professors favourite phrases when one of the Ravenclaws tried to side-track her by sending her on a tangent (something that almost always worked with Flitwick).

“Right, of course,” the professor shook himself back to attention.  “There are several different methods of occlumency, one of which is clearing your mind, but many of you are far too- what is it that the muggles say?- ADHD… for such an approach to be successful.  One that I think might be useful is to make a fortress for your thoughts- well, not really a fortress so much as a place to protect your thoughts, however that may look for you.  Fred and George, for example, would probably distract anyone hoping to break into their minds with some sort of chaotic joke-shop type environment.”

“Thanks professor,” the twins said in unison.  Honestly, they were somewhat surprised by Snape’s attitude towards them this year.  He’d been decent since their second year, but this year he’d almost shown them a sort of… favouritism, almost.  They hadn’t received a single detention this year from him, and honestly, they’d probably deserved at least several (unbeknownst to them, Severus had come close to it several times, but every time he thought of doing it, or of taking points, the image of what would have happened if they hadn’t discovered what the Dursleys had done to Harry deflated any sense of irritation he’d managed to work up, replacing it with a profound sense of gratitude).

He shook himself back to the present again- it would not do to be setting such a poor example while teaching a discipline of the mind.  “I am going to give you a couple of minutes to gather your thoughts and meditate on what would be a good mental environment to suit your needs, and then I will guide you through the process of building it.”

Ron looked at Viktor and mimed flying a broom, and his boyfriend nodded.  So their respective environments would be something to do with flying and/or quidditch.  Luna pictured Nargles and other of her creatures that would befuddle, baffle, and bat away intruders.  Hermione thought of a maze of riddles, obstacles, and other things to keep her private thoughts safe in the very centre.  Neville thought a nice greenhouse full of plants where he could hide his thoughts and have violators driven away with venomous tentacula and screaming mandrakes.  

Pansy laid the ground in front of her with bear traps and build a great wall topped with razor wire (the wall was coated with poison when you touched it).  If you managed to get past that, you found yourself attacked by robots who had knives for fingers, and beyond that were great venomous snakes guarding her thoughts like eggs in her nest (she knew they didn’t technically have to start planning in detail yet, but she was just super excited to build her deathly prison fortress).  Finally, above her nest of private thoughts were a number of dementor-like creatures, only instead of being black they were a hideous, Umbridge-shade pink, and they spit acid and sucked out your guts instead of your soul (she and Kreacher had been watching far too many second-rate horror movies).

Nobody needed to know what Seamus was planning- it was quite predictable that he would be putting up a great big wall of fire to protect his thoughts (there were also explosions).  Dean had his thoughts being bounced around in a football field, the balls/thoughts going too fast to be caught.

Draco’s shields were rather creative- Dobby was protecting them, popping further and further away from anyone trying to invade them, shooting glitter at those who tried to pry into his mind.

Harry thought very carefully about he would protect his thoughts- he’d spent far too long being sequestered, locked away, and told what to do to want to do that to his thoughts.  He liked being outside, feeling free…

After some thoughts, he built a large oak tree in the meadow of his mind, his many pets and animal friends along the branches as guards, and anyone who tried to read his thoughts would have to climb up after them as the tree grew higher and higher.

“Alright,” Severus said.  “So, you want to very carefully picture your occlumency shields, and plan them in as much detail as possible.  To test them, I will, with your permission, need to enter your minds- I will begin gently, and if I encounter anything to personal, I will leave immediately.  If anyone already has something planned and would like to go first?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Hermione said, and Severus nodded.

“You ready?”  Hermione agreed, and Severus looked her in the eyes.  “Legilimens.”

Three minutes later, and he pulled out of her mind.   “That was excellent for a first attempt, Miss Granger.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, looking slightly disappointed that she hadn’t managed more, as the ambitious always do.  

“I’ll go next,” Pansy volunteered.  Severus hesitantly entered her mind, then backed right out.

“Nope- you’ll be fine,” he exhaled shakily.

“But you didn’t even get to the hydra canons!” Pansy protested.  

“Which means no one else will either,” he stipulated.

“Ugh- you’re all so lame.”

“Or concerned for our safety,” Blaise argued.  

“Whatever- just try out somebody else’s dumb shields, then,” Pansy pouted as she helped Snally clean some leftover breakfast out of his razor-sharp teeth.

“I’d maybe like to try,” Ron put forth tentatively.  Severus tried his shields, and it was about a minute and a half before he felt the redhead getting overwhelmed and pulled away.

“It’s a good concept,” he told Ron.  “Maybe try adding some storm clouds as well.”  

“I vould also like some more time,” Viktor said, and Sev nodded.  

Finally, Severus got to Harry- afraid of what he might catch a glimpse of, he’d pushed it off as long as he could, but Harry was clearly ready to give it a shot, looking fairly comfortable and secure, holding Draco’s hand, Snally’s head in his lap.

“You’re sure?” he asked, and Harry nodded serenely.  Severus entered reluctantly, and more gently than he had with any of the others.  He was impressed by Harry’s unique setup, and he could tell Harry realised this (as he was in his head, and thus more vulnerable to having his feelings susceptible to the teen).  He started slowly climbing the tree, but Harry and his thoughts were already miles ahead of him.

“Actually try- please, Uncle Sev?” Harry sent down to him, and Severus reluctantly climbed faster, pushing himself more until, by the five minute mark, he was launching his best attack at Harry’s prompting.  Harry, however, used to suppressing his mage senses, was quite the natural at occlumency, and it was another five minutes before he caught hold of a thought. A brief glimpse of little Harry, not even two years old, already emaciated with his ribs showing, already out of diapers (the Dursleys refused to change his diapers, and he was punished when he wet himself, so he learned quickly to hold it in until one of the two toilet breaks they gave him daily), his big green eyes spilling over with tears as Vernon whacked him in the side with his belt strap.  Harry’s lower lip warbled, but he didn’t make a sound. Vernon gave two more smacks with the leather before he pointed to the cupboard under the stairs, and Harry toddled over obediently as the door was locked behind him. Harry, although tired out by now (Severus was an excellent Legilimens, and Harry’d already outlasted the others by a significant margin), finally managed to pull the memory away for his uncle’s sake, and Severus practically fled his mind, shaking all over.

“I’ll… excuse me for a minute- I’ll be right back.”  He rushed to the bathroom and managed to put up a silencing charm before retching violently.  He wiped his mouth and brushed his teeth, taking the time to gather himself enough to look marginally like his normal self.

Back in the living room of the quarters, everyone was looking slightly awkward, but Harry kept his head high, although his cheeks were burning slightly.

“Bad one, then?” George asked gently.

Harry decided to opt for honesty.  “Not particularly, no,” he told them, voice monotone.  Nobody else had anything to say after that.

Severus came back in, still looking pale. “That’s enough for the day- I’ll see you next week.”  Everyone filed out, but Harry sent Draco on ahead.

“Be there in a minute, babe,” he told his boyfriend.  Snally, of course, stayed with Harry.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked the potions master gently.

“No, Harry, I… that’s… nobody should have to live that, let alone relive it.  I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

“That’s okay; I understand,” Harry told him gently with a sad little smile.  Then he turned and walked out to catch up to his friends, and it took all of Severus’ willpower not to call him back and insist he never leave his sight.

Chapter Text

Tonks nervously walked up to the back office of The Three Broomsticks and used her key to get in.

“Rosy?” she called out to her girlfriend.

“Back here, luv!  Just touching up my makeup before the lunch rush hits,” Madame Rosmerta called back.

Tonks was shorter today than usual, and plumper- Rosy loved her in every form, but she had a thing for curvy girls (they were in an open relationship, and Tonks noticed that of all the noteworthy dates Rosy told her about, most of them were at least a size twelve.  Rosy, despite owning a pub that served fried greasy foods, and never having tried a diet in her life, could never seem to top a size four.) She was wearing high heeled ankle boots in a forest green to match her wavy, waist-length hair, which complemented her skin (a very dark shade today) beautifully.  She’d put on Rosmerta’s favourite red lipstick before she’d come.

“Hey darling,” Rose popped out of her chair to give Tonks a quick kiss on the lips.  “You’ve been busy lately.”

“We’re understaffed,” the metamorphmagus sighed, “but Fudge will probably be ousted before too long, so hopefully his replacement will bump our budget enough to hire some new recruits and I can get more off time.”

“I imagine there will be a little more room for moving money around, with none of it going to Fudge-sack’s stupid hats,” Rosy joked.  “Any good dates lately?”

“Ha, just a quicky with this golfer- I mean guy… you know if I had any spare time for a real date, I’d spent it with you, my dear.”

“You really know the way to a girl’s heart,” the bartender giggled.  “So, am I leaving the heels on or off for this one?”

Tonks licked her lips, but held out a hand to stop Rosmerta from trying to unhook her bra right away.

“I actually think I’ve met somebody you might like- that might be good for us - you know, we’ve been looking for a third and all…”

“Oh, what’s she like?”

“She’s actually a therapist- Amelia Bones brought her in to do psych evals for the aurors, since everyone’s been so stressed lately, with the dork lord back and all, even if the ministry won’t admit it,” Tonks said.  “She’s been coming back once a week to do twenty-minute sessions for us, too, and Rosy, my gods, she’s fantastic…”

“You’ve got a crush on your therapist?” Rosy asked, eyes sparkling.  “Isn’t that kind of.... Freudian?”

“There’s no guy involved, father or no,” Tonks laughed.  “And he’s not actually a real psychologist.”

“You’re right, of course.  Yeah, I’d love to meet her- when’s your next off night?”

“Tomorrow, actually- I was a little late to ask about this…”

“It’s okay my love- I know you procrastinate to the last possible second,” Madame Rosmerta laughed.

Tonks checked her watch.  “Shit, I’m already late getting back to work.  See you Tuesday?”

Rosy sighed.  “Well, I’d suppose you’d better go.  It’s probably a good thing we didn’t have sex- we wouldn’t have had nearly enough time.”

The auror winked at her.  “You know it.”

[Harry cuddles Draco during his immunoglobulin treatment; whatever Sev saw in the occlumency lesson is a niggling worry in the back of his mind, but he understand that Harry wants to keep things private because he’s worried the details would hurt him.  They have their whole lives ahead to share secrets.]

“Hey,” Julian met Severus in a paella restaurante in Barcelona (he was getting closer to the inner circle, so they were getting more elaborate with their meeting spots- Severus had apparated from Hogwarts to a backstreet in Kettleburn Alley (no one would ever look for him there; they sold sub-par potions ingredients) and from there to Madrid and then to Barcelona.  Julian went from his apartment to Chinatown in Muggle London, then to Paris, then Barcelona. It took about half an hour in total, but it was worth it.

“Hello Julian,” Severus sighed tiredly.  He sipped Sangria, wondering how drunk he’d have to get to get the image of little baby Harry’s suffering out of his head. It wasn’t a good idea- he’d probably kill himself of alcohol poisoning first.

“What’s wrong?” the American asked.

“How’s spying?” Severus didn’t even try to deny that he was upset, just changed the subject.

“I’m doing alright; apparently Voldemort wants something from the department of mysteries, but he’s unwilling to storm the ministry at the moment before gathering his forces.  Dumbledore’s also been spending a lot of time there, doing something…”

“Probably attempting to guard it,” Severus groaned.  “We’re probably going to have to set a real guard circulation from the Order, and keep Albus unaware that we know what he’s up to.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Julian snorted.  “He’s not exactly the brightest, now, is he?”

“That’s an understatement,” Severus agreed, but his chuckle was weak.

“You’re looking absolutely morose,” Julian told the other potions master.  “Seriously, what on earth is upsetting you?”

Severus picked at a shrimp, pulling the skin off and tossing it in the pail they’d put on the table before burying it slowly in rice.

“Are you gonna actually eat that?” Julian prodded.

“You can have it, if  you want,” Severus pushed his plate towards Julian.

“Okay, now you’re offering to share something with another human being- that isn’t Harry- so you’re obviously very out of sorts.”  The dark mark flashed into view as the man picked up his wine glass with a muscled forearm.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it,” Severus sighed, picking at a napkin.

“You always wanna bother people, and you look like you haven’t eaten all day, so shovel a bite of that Paella in your mouth and spill.”

Severus saw his own lack of a dark mark and felt the guilt bubble up in his stomach as he shoved the bite of food in his mouth, his throat feeling dry as the rice rubbed uncomfortably against it going down.  He didn’t have a dark mark because of Harry… the child who suffered so much and yet had so much left to give. Poor Harry, who’d lost his parents and went immediately to suffer in a household with monsters worse than anything in the forbidden forest, not even being allowed to grieve.  And the more he thought it couldn’t possibly be worse than what he knew about, he found out another detail. And the fact that Harry, who should be worrying about homework and quidditch and nothing more serious, purposely kept some of the worse details from him to protect them, the adults who should be protecting him… he swiped at his eyes angrily, hiding behind his hair so Julian wouldn’t see.

“I gave the kids occlumency lesson yesterday afternoon,” he whispered, trying to wet his mouth with another sip of sangria.  

“Oh… and you saw something in Harry’s mind that was.... disturbing?”

“That would be a euphemism, yes.”  Severus picked at a clam.

“Do you wanna maybe… tell me what it was?” Julian encouraged.

“No.”

“Please?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I am asking for a reason, you know- please just talk to me.”

“His eyes,” Severus put his head in his hands.  “They were just so sad , and he was so young… he was a baby , Julian… they were hurting a baby.”

“I’ve seen the medical records, Sev,”- he seemed unaware the nickname had spilled out, and Severus was too downcast to take notice either- “I know.”

“But you haven’t seen the memories ,” the other man ground out.  

“You know that’s all they are, right?  Memories- they’re terrible and they’re sad and they never should have happened, but Harry’s doing his damn best to get past them, and he’s doing pretty well- he’s happy , Sev.  You can’t dwell on the past, whether yours or someone else’s.  And you can’t dwell on someone else’s to avoid dwelling on yours.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Severus ground out, slapping a few euro notes on the table.  “Take my food in a takeaway container, if you wish.”

Julian snapped his head up, quickly exiting his chair.  The waiter had come to ask if they wanted dessert, and Julian smiled at him tersely.  

“Un momento señor,” he told him.  “Voy a regresar.”

“Wait!” he grabbed Severus’ wrist as the other tried to blend into the crowd.  “I’m sorry if I crossed boundaries I shouldn’t have- maybe we could try again? Meet me in Paris this Wednesday, 8 o’clock on the front end of the Champs-Élysées?  We don’t have to talk business or feelings or anything.  Just dinner- two friends.”

“Alright,” Severus agreed after a moment (a very long moment for Julian).  “But you’re paying; it can be one of those ‘exciting opportunities’ you’ve socked away money for.”

Julian broke out into a smile that showed his gleaming white teeth.  “Of course. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Yes…” Severus agreed.  “Wednesday. Enjoy your Paella.”  Then he was gone, his black dress shirt and slacks blending into the darkening evening and the people around him.

Chapter Text

Harry and his friends were all at dinner Sunday night as Ron scrambled to finish up some last minute homework, while Hermione lectured him about how he should have done it before then, since Sundays were the days he went out with Viktor on their weekly dates.  The redhead was grumbling under his breath and ignoring her as he frantically scribbled his Charms essay with a muggle ballpoint pen.  The essay, despite its looming due date, was quickly forgotten as soon as the Evening Prophet arrived.

“Yes!” Pansy pumped her fist cheerfully as they looked at the headline, which said Fudge Finally Ousted; Amelia Bones Interim Minister During New Elections.

“Mother of Merlin, Draco, your mother is running!” Blaise exclaimed as he eyed the dessert platter, but, at Pansy’s look, decided not to risk going for the last brownie.

“Which one?” Draco asked as Harry batted his eyes at Pansy, received the brownie, and gave it to his boyfriend.

“Um, the magical one?” Blaise grumbled sardonically as he watched Draco bite into the fudgy treat.  Draco threw a brussel sprout at his friend.

“Hey, if any muggle could be minister, it could be Ara,” Draco pointed out.  “Anyway, who’s mum running against?”

“Rufus Scrimgeour,” Hermione informed him, scanning the article.

“Oh, then she’s got it, easy,” Draco said breezily.  “Nobody’s a fan of Scrimgeour- he’s gruff and really old-school- like Moody but without the amusing quirk where he’s hammered three of his microwaves because he thinks they’re watching him.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched,” Susan warned.  “Cissa is a woman and sexism is still alive and well, not to mention prejudice against Slytherins.”

“Why would I even want chickens- chickens are mean, like peacocks,” Draco grumbled, remembering the last time that he, emboldened by Harry’s success, had tried to pet one of their ornamental birds.  “Besides, what does that have to do with the current situation?”

“It’s a muggle expression they use in América,” Susan rolled her eyes.  “Sarah taught it to me; anyway, don’t be too sure of anything until elections happen.”

“Anyone would be better than Fudge,” Millicent groaned.  

“I don’t know- knowing Wizarding Britain, we could end up with a third-party candidate named Dr. Voldemort McDarkLord winning the election,” George rolled his eyes.

“Oh, he’s a doctor?” Fred did an uncanny impression of Fudge.  “What’s his degree in- I must hire that man!”

“I… what planet do you come from?” Blaise looked strangely at the twins.

“A cool one,” Ginny said.  “All the Weasleys do, except maybe Percy and Ron.”

“Hey- don’t lump me with that idiot!” Ron cried out.

“Okay, so you’re not nearly as bad as Percy, but you don’t get to come to the cool planet until you stop yelling at me to turn the music down in my bedroom,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“It’s American Death Metal, Gin, come on…” Ron tried to reason with his sister.

“Mum likes it.”

“Mum also hangs pictures of Bellatrix Lestrange in the kitchen with the slogan ‘cut a bitch’ and blasts them with hexes when she’s angry,” Ron pointed out.

“Okay, so we’re all crazy,” his sister conceded.  “Some of us are just a cooler type of crazy.”

[Winky force feeds the Dursleys industrial-strength laxatives and blocks all entrances to the bathroom- she’s learned well.]

“You know, it’s rather abnormal for someone to ask their therapist on a date to meet their girlfriend,” Sarah teased Tonks gently as they walked to The Three Broomsticks, each well bundled up against the chilly mid-October evening.

“Well, I thought you were cute before you were my therapist.”  Tonks had long black hair and big brown eyes set in caramel skin today, sporting her favourite butterfly tattoo completely visible under her coat, as she was wearing a tantalisingly low-cut crop top that showed off the onyx belly-button ring in the soft flesh of her squishy tummy (whether it ended up being just her and Rosy or a menage-a-trois, Tonks wanted Rosy real hot and bothered, so she was short, curvy, and with long, thick hair and dark eyes).

“Did you now?” Sarah batted her eyelashes down at the (currently) shorter woman.

“I mean, a woman like you walks into a room and heads turn- add in the accent and it’s like, whoo !”  Tonks rambled, a little nervously.

“I don’t have an accent, you do,” the mind-healer teased, referencing the chicken-egg scenario of British-American interactions (by the way, you guys have the accent; we Americans embody the sound of dry toast- dreadfully boring and bland).

“Here, you have the accent, and it’s… it does things to a girl.”

“If Rosmerta is everything you say she is, I’m hoping it does things to two girls,” Sarah dropped her voice and licked her lips (because therapists have lives outside of their job and mutually pleasurable consensual sex is a form of self-care for many non-asexual people).

“Oh, the only way she’s not what you’re expecting is if she’s better ,” Tonks sighed dreamily.

“Your relationship seems so healthy; it’s nice to hear.  When I was still in that office in New York, I had a lot of clients come in for marriage counselling.  I had a couple who were on very shaky grounds because she wanted to open up the relationship and he thought it was a personal insult or an affront.  It was hard for both of them because they couldn’t quite listen to each other.  Eventually, I was able to get through to them and help him realise that it didn’t mean she loved him any less or that she was going to abandon them- being in love doesn’t mean that you fill all the holes in the other person’s life, and for some couples, they fit together well but there are areas- whether sexually or emotionally or what have you, that they feel they are missing something, and experimenting elsewhere or seeing other people doesn’t mean that they aren’t right for each other or that one of them will leave the other.  And it’s really healthy open relationships that have the most trust, the best communication skills, because it’s a necessity there.  A lot of people turn their noses down at people who are in that sort of relationships, but for some people, that’s the healthiest sort of relationship they could possibly be in, and it’s so much better for them than it would be if they forced themselves into conventions.”

“That’s… exactly how we feel, but you explain it so well,” Tonks breathed, falling even harder (metaphorically- oh, wait, also physically, there was a pebble she’s just tripped over). Sarah leaned down to help her up (it sounds rather cliche, but they both felt like sparks flew when they touched hands, even through their mittens) and chuckled, a sound like the tolling of church bells.  “Well, it is my job,” she said.  “And sometimes I find myself slipping into therapist mode, as I call it, in other areas as well.”

“I like it,” Tonks blushed.  “So, how’d that couple do?”

“They took some time to strengthen their bond and communications skills, and after around 8 weeks of therapy, they opened up the marriage.  Now they tell me that they’re happier than they’ve ever been, and she jokes that he goes on more dates than she does.”

“That’s really cool, actually.  I’m sure América shall suffer for your loss.”

“Eh, Britain needs me more right now- well, Harry needs me more.”

“ I need you more too,” Tonks blurted, then blushed.  “Sorry, that was probably too soon.”

Sarah smiled and reached for her hand.  “That’s okay- I like it when people can be open with their emotions.”  She kept Tonks from tripping again as they reached the closed pub and Tonks used her key to get in.

“Merlin, you’re early,” Rosy exclaimed- they’d caught her eagerly ripping into her post-shift fish and chips.  She wiped butterbeer off her mouth with the back of her hand (her lipstick stayed in place, because magic, stupid dumb wizards- ugh) as her cheeks heated up.

“Gods, you should see the way I eat after a long day at work,” Sarah laughed, putting her mind at ease.  “I’ve ruined so many of my favourite tops at the chili dog stand on the corner of 7th and 34th.”

“Keep talking New York to me with that beautiful voice and we’ll get along just fine,” Rosmerta flashed her brilliant smile, the one that, even more than her delicious food and stellar drinks, had clients coming back year after year.

“So, still hungry?  I was thinking that maybe we could all grab dinner in Muggle London and get to know each other- my treat,” Sarah offered.

“Oh, yes you are,” Rosmerta smiled- this was the start of something beautiful, they could all tell.

Chapter Text

“A quick announcement,” Minerva said Monday at lunch.  “Classes are cancelled for the afternoon.” She held up a hand to stop the cheers (while other students, like Harry and his group, frantically hoped nothing was wrong).  “Everything’s fine,” she reassured the student body, looking at her son specifically, who was chewing his lip in a way she knew meant he was worried. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, however, quidditch practices haven’t started up yet, and we do have a reason for that,” she explained, thanking her lucky stars that Wood had already graduated, or she’d have been hearing much more dissent than just a few curious grumbles about why the sign-up sheet for practice slots hadn’t been posted.

“We’ve decided to make a few changes,” the Deputy Headmistress continued.  “Changes I and many of the other teaches have been advocating for for years, I might add, but it is only now that Madame Hooch has managed to finally make her pitch to the governors (Dumbledore wouldn’t hear of changing the sport before).  We’re going to put in a few wards to make the sport safer- one that changes the impact of the bludgers to a mild stunning spell among them,” she added as she thought about her poor son getting knocked by one of the horrid things his second year.  “Another is that we will be adding a spell that slows a students fall so that nothing will be broken or seriously damaged should they fall off their broom, and we will be putting a muggle gymnast net along the bottom of the pitch to catch players should the wards fail.  Classes have been cancelled because we are meeting with a curse-breaker from Gringotts to consult and to ensure the compatibility of all the wards, which should be done by next week, at which point quidditch will resume as normal.”

“Oh, how will we ever have fun if we’re not at risk of death?” George sighed dramatically as he enacted an overdramatic swoon.  

“I do not know, my dear fellow- it’s almost like we’ll all have more fun and play better without the constant threat of serious injury hanging over our heads.”  The others laughed, and the twins inwardly sighed in relief- nobody could keep Harry from playing quidditch as long as he met the basic health requirements (which, following his track record so far, was about 60% of the time), but they all worried about him- his health was delicate enough without throwing in the extra variable that is flying death ball on broomsticks.  

“I zhink zey should do zis in professional quidditch,” Viktor said.  “Zere is really no point to it being so dangerous vhen ve have magic that could make it less so.”

“That’s a good point- I can’t believe I never thought of it before,” Hermione sighed, disappointed with herself.  Pansy squeezed her hand and rolled her eyes while Millie whispered something about how she couldn’t possibly expect herself to think of everything.

“So, what should we do with our free afternoon?” Neville wondered as they all started in on dessert.

“Why don’t we floo the guys in the village and all hang out by Hagrid’s with our animagus forms?” Hannah suggested, eager to stretch her snowy wings and fly.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Harry added.  “Plus I could say hi to Lily and Snally.”  He’d finally managed to convince the Snallygaster to stay with Hagrid during the day as long as he let the creature sleep in his bed at least twice a week (it helped that he really liked Hagrid).

“And we could see if the curse-breaker they bring in is Bill,” Ginny said.  “I bet it is- he does a lot of the high-profile stuff.” (The Goblins did indeed send Bill; he was their best cursebreaker, and they would have no one but their best in any matter involving the safety of Harry Potter, who they held an intense fondness for that had almost nothing to do with the size of his accounts).

Bill knew, of course, that they had all become animagi, because he was there and had become one, but he still wasn’t expecting the zoo that randomly came rushing up to him while he was on a job.  Nevertheless, he laughed and pet his sister on the head as she butted her nose against his shoulder and snuffed in his pockets for the peppermints he always carried.

“Hey guys,” he laughed.  “Wait, who are those guys- I don’t remember there being any snake transformations,” he said, pointing to Du, Nagini, and Sapphire.

Pansy transformed back and snorted.  “Those are Harry’s snakes- they are not people, although they sometimes think they are.”  Sapphire snapped playfully at her heels, sensing the insult.

“Speaking of animals, I heard you picked up a Snallygaster,” Bill said, laughing as he looked at the fluffy black kitten (who was wearing his superman cat sweater, because it was cold and everyone insisted and practically wrangled him into it).

The kitten stared at him, unimpressed, his cape flapping in the wind (was the cape really necessary?!)  He didn’t bother spelling the sweater off wandlessly just to exasperatedly complain at Bill, because then he’d have to go through the routine of everyone forcing him back into it when he was once again in his animagus form, but the curse-breaker got the idea.

“Alright, I’m sorry Sparky.”  The kitten growled (not at all scarily- very adorably) at him- who’d been spreading that nickname?

“I do talk to my siblings, you know,” Bill told the angry ball of fluff.  “No need to be so angry, Bambi.” Soft green eyes gave him a dirty look before he turned and dashed towards Hagrid’s.

“We’d better follow him,” Pansy sighed, and in a moment she was an imposing tigress as she chased after her kitten, the rest following in the next few moments.

[Hedwig perches comfortably behind Owl-Luna on Ginny’s back.]

“Good ter see you all,” Hagrid told them, as all the animals took in the scene in surprise.  In addition to Lily the dragon and Snally, there was a herd of unicorns and a family of centaurs, led by Leiana.  The unicorns rushed immediately to kitten Harry, ignoring the mangerie of dangerous animals as they bopped them with their silver, velvety noses.  “Erm, some a tha herds in the forest heard you were gonna be here, today, Harry, and they wanted to come an’ see ya.”

“Your foal grows stronger by the day,” Leiana told the kitten as her human hands motioned to her horse’s belly.  Draco appeared from the white ferret and eyed the centaur distrustfully.

“Wait a minute, Harry picked up another child- we already have a snallygaster, and I was hoping to enjoy being a childless couple at least until our mid-twenties.”

Leiana looked at the blonde and laughed.  “Oh, you must be Harry’s mate- don’t worry, I shall raise this foal.  But Harry was the first touch the foal responded to, therefore ancient custom dictates that he is an honorary member of the herd.”

“What?! You didn’t tell me that!” Harry, in surprise, had suddenly transformed, but luckily Julian had charmed the sweater to grow with Harry when he’d given it to him.  Now he was wearing a superman sweater-vest over his jumper, and the cape had come with it.

“I didn’t?  Hmm, pregnancy brain,” Leiana shook her head in exasperation.  “But yes, we have essentially adopted you, and an insult to you is an insult to the herd.  We shall defend you with our lives.”

“Whoa, that’s a lot…” Harry didn’t like the idea of anyone being willing to die for him.

“Don’t worry, youngling- we will take care of all, and it shall take more than the few threats that dare cross you to finish us.”  Leiana and her herd were very unimpressed with this Lord Dorkimort, or whatever he was called (she had known his name at one point, but, well… pregnancy brain).

“Lord Dorkimort- that’s better than anything we’ve come up with yet,” Ginny had to transform back just to laugh uproariously as two owls were suddenly upset from their perches.  Luna’s expression didn’t change, but Hedwig ruffled her feathers indignantly (her expression much like her Harry’s, when anyone called him adorable).

“That is really funny!” Harry shouted as the unicorns closed in on him with their eager snuggles and snuffles, looking over at the centaurs suspiciously as if to say ‘he was ours first!’  Lily the dragon flapped her wings overhead as she wondered how she could extract her bonded without getting poked by the horns of possessive unicorns and Snally craned his neck to try to see his mommy (much like newly-hatched chicks in cartoons, Snally, in his toddler-stage, had decided that Harry was his mommy, and nothing could convince him otherwise).

“What is it about you that attracts everything with fur or feathers or who isn’t a dark wizard?” Neville wondered, amused, as he watched one of the momma unicorns pluck a bunch of grass with her teeth and try to shove it into Harry’s mouth.  Harry, not fond of grass, wouldn’t have opened his mouth to give an answer even if he had one. The unicorn, sensing that their new foal was apparently not into such comestibles, wandered over to Hagrid, stuck her snout in one of the numerous pockets of his coat, and pulled out his ever-present pack of sausages before carrying it back to Harry.

“Um, you gotta cook those first,” he told her.  She nodded, apparently understanding, and lifted her head, sausages still in her mouth, to look at Lily flapping her wings above their heads as if to say ‘well, isn’t that what you’re here for?’  Lily (who was now roughly double the size of Hagrid’s hut) flapped carefully down, grabbed the package in her talons, ripped it open, tossed the sausages in the air and grilled them with a single puff of flames, and mama unicorn caught them on her horn as she lowered the sizzling meat-kabob down to Harry.  His friends fucking lost it , laughing like fools, as Fred and George captured the glorious event with a filming spell so they could show Minnie, Sev, and the common room and then watch it over and over, much to Harry’s consternation.

Harry didn’t even bother arguing that he’d just had lunch as he pulled the first sausage off the lead mare’s horn and bit into it as momma unicorn looked at him, pleased as could be.  Under her stern but loving eye, he slowly finished it and reached for the next one.

“Well, at least if the apocalypse wipes off all of the human race, we’ll know he’s taken care of,” Pansy chuckled as she finally calmed down from her laughing fit enough to speak.

“If the entire human race was extinguished, wouldn’t Harry be extinguished too?” Blaise asked, ever cynical.

“Shut up- ‘e vould not, because ‘Arry is a literal angel,” Fleur said, looking at her adopted brother adoringly.

“Could you maybe not all be wiped out in a mass extinction either way?” Harry took a break from eating to ask, only to resume when Mama unicorn, who still had two sausages on her horn, nudged him pointedly.

“I’m pretty sure I could survive if all you fuckers died,” Pansy said as Ron rolled his eyes at her.

“Okay, so I’m not the best at modesty,” she quipped.  “I’m great at it- modest and honest are two different things, I’ll have you know.”  The beginning of another of their playful arguments was interrupted by the dinner bell, up at the castle.  

“ Oh, come on !” Harry sighed, still working on the sausages.  Mama unicorn motioned for Lily to come down, slipped the other sausages into Harry’s hands, and nudged him up onto the dragon’s back- by her logic, Lily the dragon could fly faster to food place than unicorn could run, which meant that scrawny hatchling would be fed sooner.  Lily, apparently in accordance with this logic, flapped away.

“Um, I guess I’ll meet you guys back in the Hall!” Harry called back to his mirthful friends as his noble steed carried him off.

“Fly, Hiccup, fly!” Hannah cried, unable to resist the urge to tease her friend just a little , because come on , it was right there.  

Chapter Text

“Ugh,” Pansy complained as they all sat in Harry’s room in the hospital wing, hanging out as he received his immunoglobulins.  “What is it with all these books where the hero’s too good to kill the bad guys?”  She shut another of the books from Harry’s shelf with an exasperated sigh.

“What’s wrong with not being able to kill anyone?” Harry asked as he watched the pale yellow platelet fluid flow from the machine, through the clear tube, and into his body via the needle in his arm.

“There’s nothing wrong, Fawn, with being unable to kill anyone, even if they’re awful, but there is something wrong with thinking that’s the only kind of hero that exists.  You also need the kind that will look the villain in the eyes and carve their hearts out, or else all you soft-hearted heroes would never be able to get rid of them all.”

Harry just rolled his eyes at here and went back to his own book, spread out on his chest, along with Draco, as their eyes tracked the pages together.  Hermione looked at her girlfriend and rummaged in her bag for a moment.

“Here,” she told Pansy, pulling out a copy of A Song of Ice and Fire, “I think you’ll like this one- Remus let me borrow it the last time we had tea, although he can’t have gotten around to reading it yet or he wouldn’t have.  I’m not sure I’m too fond of it, as the author seems to kill everyone indiscriminately, but it’s got plenty of the types of heroes you like.”

A scarred finger flipped through the pages as chocolate eyes scanned a few lines.  “Yes,” Pansy muttered, “I think this might work.” She settled deeper into her armchair and was silent for a while.  Everyone else was also involved in someone else’s story, eyes wide as they soaked up the stories carved into ink-stained pages, except for Ron, who was once again scribbling on some nearly-due assignment, so the room was eerily quiet when Severus came in to look at the knobs on the machine and gently withdraw the needle from Harry’s arm.

“You’re all dressed up,” the teen observed as the professor wrapped the insertion site in a bandage with well-practiced ease.  “What’s the occasion?”

The potions master, in a loose-fitting black button-down tucked into muggle jeans, gave him an unimpressed look as he felt Harry’s forehead with the back of his hand.  “There is no occasion ; I merely have a few things to do in the muggle world.”

“Oh, come on- you’ve washed your hair, which you normally do before classes, and you wouldn’t do that if you were just going to the chemist’s,” Harry pointed out, crossing his arms.

“Why is it only when something doesn’t pertain to you that you suddenly turn into an observant little detective?” Severus asked with an eye-roll, deflecting.

“Oh Merlin!” Pansy squealed, finally putting her book down.  “You’re meeting Julian!”

“I often meet Julian,” Severus said, not even bothering to think he could get away with blatant denial when it came to Pansy Parkinson.  “I receive his reports, remember?”

“There’s also an Order meeting tonight at Sirius’ house,” he sighed.  “So we’re going from our meeting to there- and I do try to look decent when I see dear old Andromeda, as it seems that since her own daughter has turned out to be such a little miscreant with those torn trousers and bright tattoos, she’s determined to be even more fastidious with nitpicking everyone else’s adherence to decorum.”

“Please,” Harry rolled his eyes.  “Aunt Andy loves Tonks, and I know for a fact that Sirius finally convinced her to wear those matching Black Sheep t-shirts he had made for the four of them, so I don’t see why she'd care that you washed your hair and tucked in your collar.”

“Well, she does,” Severus rebutted cantankerously, finishing checking Harry over to ensure there were no immediate adverse reactions to the treatment before he ruffled his hair and tucked the blanket up a little higher.  “I want you to stay here a little longer, and Poppy will check you over before she heads out to the meeting, but chances are she’ll let you go then.”

“Have you met Aunt Poppy?” Harry waved his hands around as he looked disbelievingly at Severus, “if you don’t let me out now, I’ll never get to leave.”

“Yes, well, you should have thought of that before you were such a cheeky little miscreant,” Severus told Harry as he tucked his hands back under the blankets.  “I have to go- be sure to tell someone if you start to feel even a little bit bad , okay?”

Harry’s lower lip jutted out in a pout as green eyes avoided his gaze.  “Yeah, whatever.”

Severus walked forward until he caught the teen’s eyes again.  “Promise?”

He received a dramatic put-upon sigh for his efforts.  “Alright, I promise.”

“Good Sparky.”  His hair was ruffled once more, and Severus had to dodge a tickling charm on his way out.

[Bee looks longingly at a cookie and wonders if it just might be worth a trip to the hospital wing.]

“Hey,” Julian looked up from his watch as Severus appeared on the crowded street.  “I was beginning to wonder if you were rethinking this.” The second hand on the old watch nudged the time to eight-thirty as the blonde put his hands in his pockets, standing slightly awkwardly as he waited for the other to talk.

“I was kept back a little by chattering little miscreants poking their noses where they don’t belong, and then the damn tube broke down- I don’t know why Arthur’s always going on about those things, they’ve been a real pain in my arse,” Severus groaned as he ran a hand through his currently-not-so-greasy hair.

“I did you a favour by putting the one in London on your route today; I apparated from Grenada to the 19th Arrondissement and had to take the Parisian one, which smells unsettlingly like urine.”

“Whatever,” Severus rolled his eyes, showing no gratitude for the gesture (even if he secretly felt it- somewhere deep, deep, deep down).  “Although I should apologise for being late- the meeting starts at ten, and now we’ve lost the time to go to a decent restaurant.”

“It makes no difference to me- there’s a cart down the road that serves wonderful savoury crepes, and then we could get a few macarons and stroll along the Seine, if you’d like?” Julian asked, voice a little less confident than normal.

“I’m not much of a sweet tooth, but I know Harry would love a few,” Severus agreed, and they set off, walking side by side and a few inches away from each other as Julian dropped a few coins into the lap of a toothless old woman sitting against the wall of a shop.  She gave him half a smile as her arthritic hands pocketed the money.

If Severus bought a rather large box of macarons that surely amounted to more than a few for his little nephew, Julian didn’t comment as they made a quick stop in a back alley to put a shrinking charm on the treats before they headed towards the river.  Night had already fallen, and the river flowed with a muted rushing sound as the waters lazily carried boats full of tourists along the brightly lit canals.

“How’re things going, in there ?” Severus asked eventually, after a few moments of silence that somehow felt comfortable and anticipatory at once.

“Hey, no talking business, remember?” Julian wagged a finger at him with a little chuckle.  “But I haven’t needed to use any of the healing potions I’ve had stored away, if that’s what you’re fishing for.  I seem to be regarded as the nondescript brew-boy who silently carries out orders, and that’s better than it could have been.”

“Hmm,” Severus made a non-committal little gurgle in the back of his throat, although he supposed Julian’s steady, confident silence would keep back the taunts of the other death eaters better than the sour, sulking ones he himself used to employ before someone eventually rallied him to anger (it had been disturbingly easy, he realised looking back, which is probably why they had such fun with it).

“So, how’s teaching?” Julian broke in before bitter memories could drag him down too far.

“Same nonsense as it always is,” Severus answered shortly.

“Is that so?” the other man had an irritatingly fond little smile ghosting the corners of his lips.  “Because I think you like it more than you say you do.”

Severus gave him a look, but ceased when cheerful lips only quirked further.  “There are some students whose presence is… tolerable, and it is occasionally gratifying to bestow knowledge upon those that appreciate it properly, but they are few and far between.”

“If you say so,” Julian let the matter drop, although that knowing little smirk was still driving the other man to distraction.  “But I think you’d quickly get bored if life didn’t give you something to complain about.”

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but no witty retort came to his mouth, so he cast around quickly for something to comment on.  “Nice old house, over there,” he finally settled on, pointing to a brick house that looked older than the others on the row along the opposite shore.  “Brick buildings are always wonderful for potions labs.”

“Agreed,” Julian murmured, and there were a few more minutes of only the laughter of tourists and the rushing of the river and the soporific hum of French drifting around them like a mantle before he took his hand out of his pocket quietly, working up the courage to do what he’d been hoping to all night and reach for Severus’ hand.  He slowly inched towards his goal, and if the other man noticed, he said nothing. But their pinkies had no more than brushed lightly when the sound of laughter suddenly grew louder as three laughing witches nearly ran into them.

“Wotcher, Professor!”  Although she changed appearances like most people change their clothes, there was no mistaking the cheerful voice of Nymphadora Tonks, which was today encased in a short Pakistani-looking woman with streaks of bright red in her hair that matched her lipstick, the brown in her eyes matching that of her dragon-hide boots.  Julian cursed mentally at the interruption before putting on a smile as he took in the middle woman- he had known, of course, that Sarah had recently embarked on a new relationship, as they were good friends who corresponded regularly, but she hadn’t mentioned their names yet, not at such an early stage.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who decided on a date night in Paris,” the third woman- Madame Rosmerta from the bar in Hogsmeade- Julian’s mind supplied, spoke up with a far-too-amused smile on her face.  For the second time that night, Severus lost the ability for a witty retort, and his cheeks heated up as he scowled menacingly at her, and Julian scratched his elbow awkwardly, but he made his voice work, on behalf of Severus.

“Friends can’t have dinner anymore, my good woman- I think you’ve spent too much time listening to the lovelorn gossip of the students in the village,” he said, laughing breezily- there, he didn’t vehemently deny it, like Sev would have if he’d have managed to speak, but he didn’t say anything that would make the other man uncomfortable or feel rejected.

“We were just about to head to the meeting, wanna come with?” Sarah asked the other American as they all started walking as a group so they wouldn’t be blocking the pathway.  

“I suppose it is time,” the blonde agreed, trying not to sound reluctant as he looked at his watch.  They walked to the nearby apparition point, Severus insisting they at least make a cautionary detour to Lorraine first, before they were standing in the Alley outside 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Hang on just a moment,” Tonks said as she grew taller, thinner, and her hair changed completely to a shaggy, shoulder-length cut in fire engine red, her eyes going a bright gold.  She cast a few charms and her nice, calf-length trench coat was suddenly ripped jeans and an old, off-the-shoulder Arctic Monkeys t-shirt.  “Can’t be looking too respectable in front of my mum, now can I?”

“Ms. Tonks, you’re wearing Gryffindor colours,” Severus shuddered, disbelieving that anyone would possibly put on such a combination on purpose.

“I know- lost a bet to Siri, plus this colour is louder than yellow anyway,” Tonks said cheerily, pointing to her hair.  While Severus rolled his eyes, Rosmerta smiled fondly and Sarah squeezed her hand as they went around and entered the house.  

“Welcome, to my humble abode,” Sirius welcomed them, pulling out his earbuds and putting his feet up on the table.

“Sparkly combat boots, mutt?  That’s an… interesting choice,” Severus commented as Kreacher came around and batted his master’s feet with a feather duster until he pulled his feet back to the floor.

“Eh, I’m trying something,” the dog animagus shrugged, giving the unamused house elf a fond stroke along his bat-like ears.  “Thinking of getting my ears pierced next.”

“You’d look good with a diamond stud,” Tonks agreed as she strode towards the biscuit tin.  “Oh, Wotcher, Remus?” she greeted as Siri’s husband came in and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m alright- we should be ready to start soon.  Minerva was just going to check on Harry before she came over.”

“Did he have to stay overnight?” Severus tried not to sound nervous as he put forth the question.

Before Remus could open his mouth, Poppy bustled in, admiring the gleaming countertops as she went (Kreacher clearly thought as well of a good scouring charm as she did).  “He was still running a low fever when I left, but luckily I didn’t have the unpleasant duty of telling him he’d be staying overnight, because he’d already lost the battle to stay awake,” the nurse informed them as she redid her sensible bun.  

“I think he sleeps better now than he did as a baby,” Sirius laughed as he remembered long-ago evenings babysitting his godson.  “He’d sleep through the night just fine, but he was never down before ten or up before nine.”

“Yes, well Kreacher never be getting the impression that Dursley-monsters let him sleep much,” Kreacher muttered angrily as he took his fury out on a smudge left on the table by Sirius boots.  Everyone turned to look at the elf.

“Kreacher, how do you know so much about the Dursleys?” Remus asked with a sideways look.

The elf looked at him, caught red-handed, before he put a surly look back onto his wrinkled face.  “That be being none of mutt masters’ concern,” he remarked, belligerently. “Kreacher be doing no irreparable harm to the mini-beast, anyway, and what happens to the big ones cannot be being traced back to mutt masters- there be no laws against an elf doing torture things as long as his masters didn’t order him to- ministry don’t be thinking elves can be thinking with own brains, they don’t, and that works out well for Kreacher.  No more questions be needed and Kreacher will be hearing no more about it.”

Everyone looked at him for a long moment before Minerva gave one short nod.  “We’re so glad someone can do something about it without getting in trouble with the law- you’re a good elf, Kreacher.  Send me a wish-list of any kitchen or torture supplies you need and I’ll see that they get to you, as a reward for your good work.”

The elf beamed at her.  “Kreacher always did be liking little master Harry’s cat-mother,” he told her.  “She be having good sense, she do. Kreacher has to go change the linens now in little master Harry’s bedroom, because some people be thinking that they can be mating on any bed in the house, but not little master Harry’s, they can’t, they be learning that quickly.”

Sirius shuddered, remembering the bucket of cold water that was dumped on their heads for daring to do it in their godson’s room, which Kreacher basically treated as a shrine to Harry whenever he wasn’t around (that was part of the fun, feeling like they were being naughty teenagers in a place they shouldn’t, but it definitely wasn’t worth the angry lecture they’d received as they sat there, naked and sopping wet).

“Master Regulus and Master Cygnus never be doing such nonsense in Kreacher’s house, they don’t,” Kreacher informed them as the other Black brother and his boyfriend made their way into the kitchen from their own bedroom, hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled, the Black Sheep t-shirt that Regulus wore so proudly all the time half-tucked into his pants, as if hastily thrown on.

“You know it Kreach,” Cygnus told the elf with a fist-bump.  “So, who’re we still waiting on?”

“Nobody, now,” Severus told the younger man, smirking widely.  Molly and Arthur had streamed in through the floo already, along with Pomona, Flitwick, and Aurora Sinistra.  Amelia Bones was caught up at work, especially with having to juggle the temporary minister position along with the head of the DMLE.  Narcissa and Aralynn, working on Cissa’s campaign, likewise couldn’t make it, so those three would be updated in the morning. Other than that, all the major players in the Order were there, and more chairs were conjured as everyone sat down.

“So, what’s on the agenda?” Pomona asked as Sarah, who had the neatest handwriting, opened a notebook to take the minutes down.

“The twins wanted to join us as well,” Molly opened, “but between making plans to open a shop in Diagon and studying for the NEWTS we just managed to convince them they ought to sit for, we were able to persuade them they ought to wait for summer.  But I did promise them we would keep them updated, since they are of age and they would have found out anyway, so if you could duplicate the minutes when we’re done, we’d be grateful.”

“Of course,” Sarah agreed.

“They’d have found out from Harry anyway,” Minerva told the other mother.  “We don’t keep things from each other, and those kids share everything with each other anyway.”

“I’m fairly certain Ms. Parkinson has an army of house elves that double as spies, anyhow,” Severus chimed in.  “So there really is no use trying to keep anything from those little ingrates, although if we don’t go down to business there will be nothing to tell them.”

The reminder that they were there for a reason other than to talk about their children brought them all back to the topic at hand, and they all turned to Julian for an update on Voldemort’s whereabouts, although he told them the same thing he’d told Severus beforehand- that he was laying low for the time being.

“He does have an interest in something in the Hall of Mysteries,” Julian finished.  “Although he’s made no concrete plans to retrieve it.”

“Probably the same thing our esteemed leader has been sneaking away to obsess over,” Minerva said, the line of her mouth tight.  “Whether it’s a real threat or not, with two crazy fools after it, we ought to put on a guard rotation.”

“Two at a time, always with a senior member or a trusted house elf,” Poppy agreed.  “Most of us have jobs, but I’m sure we can always have someone with any of the younger members we might put on the rotation.”

“I don’t have too much to do when the kids aren’t around,” Molly said, “and Aralynn, although she may be a muggle, has excellent skill with that taser of hers.  Narcissa will probably be too busy with her campaign to take too many shifts, and we shouldn’t distract her- Merlin knows we need a decent minister, but between me, Ara, Kreacher, Dobby, and Winky, I think we have enough senior members to always have at least one of us doing a guard shift during the work day.”

“And if we lose a bit of sleep, so be it,” Arthur agreed.  “If the students can stay up at all hours studying for their OWLs and NEWTs, then we can surely do so as well to ensure they live to take them.”

“There’s no matter of an if here,” Minerva averred, pulling herself up to her full height and looking across the room with her most serious expression.  “Every one of us, and every one of our children, shall see the end of this war. We will leave no one behind, we will lose no one, and if I have to leave a bloody trail of death eater entrails in my wake to save my son anymore of the suffering he’s already seen far too much of for all our lifetimes, then I will do it with a smile on my face.”

“Hear, hear!” the others called, the force of their conviction filling the room with the unity of their joint strength.

Chapter Text

“Great that Ron’s going out for the quidditch team, isn’t it?” Hermione asked Millie and Pansy after classes the next day as they strolled through the hallway, hand in hand.

“Yeah, we’re all very happy for the Weasel,” Pansy drawled sardonically, although it was clear to see she was super proud of him.

“I think he was a little surprised that you were so supportive of it, though, Mia,” Millie added as they reached the kitchens and tickled the pear to collect some food for their date.  “Given how you’re always lecturing him about how he should focus more on his studies.”

“Of course I’m happy for him and I want him to do things that make him happy- I just meant he should stop putting everything off until the last minute!” Hermione protested, cheeks heating up as she averted her eyes.

“We know how seriously you take this stuff,” Pansy piped up as she tweaked her girlfriend fondly on the nose.  “And we love you for it; it’s like dating a schoolteacher- a really hot school teacher.”  Millie nodded along enthusiastically as the elves brought back a filled basket.

“I feel bad about letting all this good food go cold,” Hermione whispered as they left the kitchens, “but maybe we should eat a little… later .”

“Absolutely,” the other two licked their lips as they found the first abandoned classroom they could and warded the door.

[Winky informs Pansy that the others know about her army; Severus clearly still has a few tricks up his sleeve.]

“Don’t be nervous,” Harry told his surrogate brother as they walked down to the pitch.  “You’ll make a great keeper; I know it.”

“Thanks, Har,” Ron said, freckles stark against his pale, nervous face.  “I needed that.”

“You’ll be fine, Weasel- soon I’ll be creaming you on the pitch along with the rest of the lions,” Draco quipped as he playfully batted Ron’s shoulder.

“You know you haven’t beat your boyfriend to the snitch in a single game, right?” Ron began to look more comfortable as he bantered with the Slytherin, as was the goal.
“Well, it’s his fault for being so damn attractive while chasing the damn thing,” Draco muttered.  “But I think I’ve gotten better at resisting his charm since we’ve started dating.”

“Oh please,” Harry rolled his eyes.  “You thought I was cute when I was feverish and sweating and covered in dragon pox- you’re softer than you’ve ever been.”

“In my defence, the way you were moving your body was doing terrible things to my mind.”

“Merlin, Draco- I was squirming around because I was itchy as hell, not giving you a lapdance,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Maybe you were too distracted to remember, but the way you were rubbing up against me frantically felt a whole lot like a lapdance.”

“Huh, that’s strange, because if you were actually enjoying it you might have let me get on with it and get some damn relief,” Harry quipped as he leaned his head against Draco’s shoulder while they walked.

“Oh, trust me, it was only because I love you so much that I was able to pull myself away so you didn’t hurt yourself,” Draco told him.  “But there will be no such mercy in quidditch.”

“Even if I get you good and horny before the game?” Harry teased, laughing green eyes sparkling as he stroked his thumb along Draco’s while they held hands.

“If I’m sexually frustrated, you will be too,” the blonde argued with his boyfriend.  “And then neither of us will play well.”

“I’ll be fine- I can control myself.”

“Sure, poxy,” Draco rolled his silver eyes.

“That was an entirely different situation!” Harry objected as Draco trapped him in a bear hug and attacked him with a noogie.

“Could you two stop whatever weird foreplay this is so we can start tryouts?” Ron sighed exasperatedly at them as they reached the pitch (like he was any better when Viktor was around, a fact that was proven when his boyfriend, who had come to surprise him and watch him tryout, suddenly became visible as he stepped down from the stands and was attacked in a running hug by the youngest Weasley son).

“And we’re the bad ones,” Harry rolled his eyes at Draco, playful argument forgotten, as they both watched Ron wrap his legs around Viktor’s torso as the older boy spun him around before they kissed.

“You’ll do great, snidget, I know you vill,” the professional seeker told his boyfriend as Angelina called for everyone trying out to form a line.  Harry noticed with some surprise that Ginny got off the player bench to stand at the end of it.

“Uh, sis- you’re already on the team,” he pointed out, and Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

“As the reserve seeker, and you don’t spend all the games in the hospital wing, so I asked Angelina if I could go for chaser as well, and she said yes,” Ginny explained to the guys.

“I zhink you vill do great,” Viktor told her confidently.  “Vhen you really try, you are almost as scary as Pansy.”

“Aww, thank you,” Ginny put her hand over her heart, not at all offended by the almost .  Nobody was as scary as Pansy.  She kissed Luna for good luck before everyone who wasn’t a player or a hopeful player headed up to the stands.

[Bee’s come down to watch the tryouts, and she sits on the bottom step of the stands, close enough to Harry on the bench to chatter away in Spanish as Lina watches all the students trying out.]

James and Lily took a little time off from their Halloween planning to watch as their son got to play quidditch for the first time in a year.  They cheered when Ron was chosen as the new keeper and Ginny as the new chaser, with Colin Creevey the reserve for both positions. They also laughed when, upon Harry congratulating the muggleborn on making the team, he waited until Harry turned away before pumping his fist and doing a little victory dance- as hard as he tried to honour their son’s wish to be treated like a normal person, the poor kid was still desperately starstruck.  Harry looked more at home in the air than he ever had, despite the year off, and as he whirled and dove and looped and whooped with joy as he urged his Firebolt to breakneck speed, but not a single one of the safety wards was even activated despite his complicated maneuvers, such was his skill.

“Minnie’s restraining herself admirably,” Lily chuckled as they watched the tabby cat in the stands pace nervously, managing to hold her tongue despite her desperate wish to transform back and tell her son to just slow down baby, dear Merlin!

“I wonder if Severus would manage to keep his silence so well,” James snorted as he held his wife’s hand.

“They’re both such worry-warts- you think the wards would ease the anxiety a little,” Lily remarked, pulling her red hair back from her face so she could peer more closely at her son as he pulled out of a flawlessly-executed dive at the very last second.

“Oh, like you didn’t have a heart attack even when the poor kid was flying on his tiny toddler broom six inches off the ground.”

“That was completely different- new mother anxiety combined with the fact that he couldn’t even walk in a straight line yet,” his wife objected.  “But he’s a teenager now, and I know you can’t keep a Potter on the ground forever.” She sighed as if her husband and son’s restless need to take to the skies completely evaded her.  

“Oh, give the woman a break, Lils- she’s only been a parent for three years, so she’s still going through the new-mum stage, plus there’s everything Harry’s been through since then…”

“Don’t remind me,” Lily clenched her fist as her green eyes practically crackled with the fire of her anger.  “My sister and her no-good husband are going to regret every numerous wrong they ever did to my child.”

“ Our child,” James reminded as they watched the students come down after practice ended and Minerva rushed up to hug Harry, whose face was glowing with happiness from finally being able to fly again.  “And hey, Minnie’ll still get to do the whole ‘raising a toddler’ thing when everyone goes to get pissed in the village seventh year- what are toddlers except tiny drunk people, after all?” Little did they know that their son and his friends would have far greater things weighing on their mind by the time seventh year came.

Chapter Text

The day before Halloween, a Monday, Draco had his head lying at a somewhat awkward position on the shoulder of his much shorter boyfriend when Harry looked up from his book.

“Huh, that’s interesting,” he said as he offered Hedwig, delivering the mail, a piece of bacon as the owl nipped him fondly on the ear.

“Interesting enough to wake me up?” Draco mumbled sleepily from against his chest.

“I think so, especially because your family is so into constellations and stuff- there’s some comet coming tonight that only happens once every thousand years,” Harry informed them.  Hermione scooted closer to peer into the book as well.

“The verus amor comet,” she read off the page.  “Doesn’t that mean like, true love- kind of cheesy, isn’t it?”

“Well, the old legend is that it was a gift from the old gods or Mother Magic or something,” Harry said.  “And it was supposed to connect you to your soulmate somehow- if they knew about magic and if you were worthy and if you’d already met them.  A lot of it’s lost to history, though.”

“Huh, sounds a bit too much like divination to me,” Mia sniffed.  “After all, comets are just old fragments of planets and rocks from space that originate from an área known as the Oort cloud-and space trash flying by the earth isn’t the most romantic thing, so whoever invented this legend must not have known too much about astronomy, but it should be interesting to watch, anyway.  Think you can get Professor Sinistra’s permission for us to have a sleepover on the astronomy tower?”

“Why don’t you do it,” Harry teased, “since you know so much about comets?”

“I would,” Hermione began, “but you’re super persuasive with those big green kitten eyes of yours, and Professor Sinistra is absolutely besotted with you just like everyone else.  She’s the only one who can authorise extra-curricular stuff in the tower, too, so I don’t think we should chance sending anyone but our best.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry rolled his eyes at her.  “But you vastly overestimate my influence- and I am fifteen years old and not adorable.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Sparky,” Ginny butt in, as Harry lobbed a blueberry at her.

[Minerva sends Kreacher a very nice new beat-down pan with his name engraved in it- his old one was getting a little dented.]

“Um, Professor Sinistra?” Harry tentatively tapped the tall, dark woman with the entrancing black eyes, like a starless sky, outside of the staff room corridor during his free period.  “May I ask you something?”

“Of course, dear,” she said, smiling down at Harry, “you may ask me anything you like.”

“Um, well, we were wondering, that is, my friends and I, and the graduates that live in the village- you know them, right?” At Aurora’s nod, he continued.  “Well, that special comet is coming by tonight, and we were wondering if we could have permission to watch it from the astronomy tower and bring up our blankets and stuff?  Unless you were planning to watch it alone…” he finished tentatively.

“Oh, no worries dear- I live in the highest tower in Hogwarts, so I have a lovely view of my own- I will of course allow you this.  It is a very beautiful comet that comes tonight, and not many get the chance to see it. Just make sure you bring enough bedding to be warm and comfortable- wouldn’t do to have you sleeping on the cold, hard ground, now would it?” the professor finished, giving him a fond look.

“Erm, I suppose not.”  Harry didn’t mention he had no real issue with sleeping on the cold, hard ground- he’d had to do it before, at the Dursleys, and really he was quite capable of sleeping anywhere if he was tired enough, but he just promised he’d bring plenty of blankets and bedrolls and went on his way.

[Pansy sees dear little Bee looking longingly at the dessert spread and suddenly it dawns on her that the girl won’t know, as a first year, that she could go down to the kitchen and ask the elves to make sugar free treats, so she makes sure to corner her after the meal to inform her of this.]

“Alright, so we can start the haunt as soon as the sun rises this morning and we have until 11:59pm to finish our haunting tomorrow,” Lily told her husband as she looked at their packed schedule for the day.  “We obviously start at the Dursleys, although I think a quick lunchtime detour to Dumbledore would be prudent, although one of us should keep popping over to give him a vague sense of foreboding all day, and then we’ll finish the night off with him, when the Department of Ministries is at its darkest and most unsettling, with a grand display of just how displeased we are about all this nonsense he’s got going on about with the prophecy- if he thinks our son is going to be tasked with the responsibility of killing that monster , he’s got another thing coming.  It would be good if we could scare him away from the hall of prophecy altogether, because that would make guard duty much easier for the Order, if they don’t have to tiptoe around the old goat all the time.”

“What about Kreacher- he sure is at the Dursleys’ a lot these days- do you think he might interfere with our plans just a bit?”  James asked his wife as he chewed the end of a quill.

“I think we can catch him outside the house when the sun rises, if he sticks to his usual habits,” Lily said.  “Then, just when they think they’re safe for the day, those awful… abominations will get the fright of their lives.  Our only limit is to make sure they don’t die of it, so they can live to suffer longer.”

“Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have married you?” James looked at Lily with undisguised adoration.

“Just about every day since the wedding in life and after,” Lily laughed, pulling him in by the collar for a long, deep kiss.  The anticipation of glorious, genius revenge always did make her horny.

[Neville gets his first O on a potion- his average is an E, with his potions usually earning an A while his essays bring the overall grade up with his excellent knowledge of plants.  He is very pleased, and Severus can’t help but feel a prickle of pride for his student.]

“Snacks?” Hannah asked as they set up the astronomy tower after dinner, unrolling the bedding and setting the telescopes up.

“Check,” Pansy confirmed, burned hands dangling two picnic baskets, one from each.

“Recording spell ready to go?” Susan turned to the twins.

“Yep,” Fred said, “even though-”

“It’s never as good on film with these things,” George finished.

“Extra jumpers for Harry in case he gets cold?” Luna asked.

“He’s always cold, there’s no in case about it,” Ginny snorted as Harry aimed a lazy Relashio her way, forcing her to drop the pumpkin pasty in her hand as she glared at him.

“Yes, I’ve got the extra jumpers,” Draco jumped in as Harry ducked a bat bogey hex.

“And I’ve got a bunsen burner and a tea kettle,” Cedric remarked cheerfully as he held up his bright yellow pot.”

“Do you have any tea that won’t get us stoned?” Ron asked.

“Aww, where’s the fun in that?” Pansy taunted, but Fleur held up a caddy full of both French and Pakistani teas.

“No buzz about eet,” she announced as Malala threw an extra hijab she’d brought around Harry’s shoulders, who, although he was starting to shiver, was too proud to ask Draco for one of the extra jumpers after Ginny’s comment.

“Alright, I think ve are ready,” Viktor exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around Ron while the other unfolded the parchment paper from a hot meat pie.  He offered the redhead a bite before taking one himself as they snuggled against the wall.

“The comet is supposed to pass by around ten,” Hermione informed them- despite scorning the fabled origins of said comet, she was more than willing to take the lead on pulling every scientific detail that could be found about its arrival.

“Cool, so we’ve got a good three hours then,” Harry said, pulling out his gameboy in the hope that having something to do with his hands would make staying awake easier.

“Maybe we’ll have a big red string attaching us to our soulmates,” Blaise quipped as he plugged his headphones into his walkman.

“Okay, so for you, that would be every single person in Hogwarts who’s willing to give you a second glance,” Draco taunted the other boy, who merely rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, whatever- if you weren’t hopelessly in love with Harry, you’d be coming for the goods too.”

“If he weren’t hopelessly in love with Harry, would he even be Draco?” Pansy jived as she handed a bag of Bertie Botts to the little Potter so he could sort out the good flavours.

“You know, there were eleven years in which I existed pre-Harry,” Draco reminded them, “and I still had a personality.”

“A personality made up mostly of wondering what the Great Harry Potter was doing,” Blaise snickered, apparently thinking that the conversation was better listening than his Black Sabbath album.  

“Aww, babe, you used to wonder what I was up to?” Harry teased, tweaking Draco’s ear fondly.

“Oh, that’s all he ever talked about- Great Harry Potter this, Great Harry Potter that- I bet he’s fighting dragons, I bet he can fly without a broom, I bet he’s got a super-secret crime-fighting headquarters,” Pansy imitated a young Draco.  “He never shut up about Harry Potter- well, Harry Potter and how mean the peacocks were.”

“They’re devils!” Draco defended himself, while also trying to deflect from the embarrassing stories being brought up about him and his lifelong fascination with Harry.  “Absolute devils!”

“Devils that love to cuddle your boyfriend and follow him around like tame little show dogs,” Millie joined in on the fun.

“Do shut up,” was Draco’s only reply.

[The comet passes by, but in a strange turn of events, everyone in castle, even those who normally stay awake at all hours of the night, are fast asleep by the time it makes its appearance.]

I’ve got to study doubly hard for charms today, as yesterday I didn’t get anything done, Hermione reminded herself first thing upon waking up.

“Ugh, Mia,” Pansy groaned, an arm over her face to block out the rising sun, “I love you, but you cannot just start talking about homework this early in the morning.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hermione told her as she wrestled her afro up into a scrunchie.  

“Yes, you did,” Ron argued.  “I heard it too- you said ‘I’ve got to study doubly hard for charms today, as yesterday I didn’t get anything done,’” he mimicked in a very bad impression of the other girl.

“I swear to Merlin I did not say that out loud,” Hermione emphasised, now looking somewhat shocked.  

“I didn’t hear it,” Harry agreed.

“Snidget, could ve stay on ze topic at hand?” Viktor asked Ron, “it is already very hard to do ze English first thing in ze morning vithout all your talk of breakfast.”

“I’m not talking about breakfast- I’m thinking about breakfast,” Ron gulped, his face paling.  “And Merlin’s balls, Hermione, would you please shut up about your books for a minute?!”

“It’s hard to stop thinking about books when my head is full of your ramblings about breakfast!” Mione snapped.  “Ugh, what the fuck is going on?!”

Draco , Harry thought, catching on.   Can you hear me?

Draco looked at him, and, hearing Harry’s voice but not seeing his lips moving, quickly realised what was happening as well.   Yeah luv; I can hear you.  Do you think...?

“Guys!” Harry yelled out loud.  “It’s the comet!”

“No, the comet was last night and we missed it,” Millie said.  “We all fell asleep. Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Pansy exclaimed suddenly, “I felt someone in my mind, so I slammed my walls up.  Here, let me make you a space where there’s no poisoned spikes and I’ll let you back in.”

“So we’re clear on that?” Hermione clarified.  “We are reading each other’s minds?”

“Yep- soulmates,” Harry enunciated, gesturing to him and Draco.

“But- Ron’s in my head!” Mia exclaimed, hand over her heart.

“Snidget eez in my head too!” Viktor told her.  “Do ve have to share now?”

Mia, can you hear me?   Pansy thought at her girlfriend.

“Ugh, yes I can, flower- it is getting very loud in here!” Hermione put her hands over her ears, before she realised that wouldn’t do anything.

“I’ve got Millie in my head too,” Pansy informed them.  “What about you, Hermione?”

“No Millie here,” Hermione sighed, looking at the other girl, who shook her head.

“You’re not in here either,” Millie shrugged, “but we can still kiss and stuff, I think- that’s not against the rules or whatever, right?”

“What rules?!” Ron yelled out, waving his arms wildly.  “The soulmate comet thing has come along and put the five of us into some weird fuck-chain!”

“Bill?!” Fleur suddenly spoke aloud, looking at Malala.  “‘is voice is here,” she tapped her head, “but ‘e eez not.”

“I ‘ave him in my ‘ead too,” Malala said, “along weeth you, Habiti...”

“So ze two of us are soulmates with the Bill Weasley, then?” Fleur asked.

“Eet would seem so, yes,” Malala confirmed.  “But eet eez good weeth me- ‘e is ‘ot, non?”

“That’s great for you guys,” Ron cut in, “but I’ve got a lot of stuff in my head that I don’t understand right now- Hermione, would you please get the druidic alphabet or whatever madness this is out of my brain?! ”

“I’m working on it,” Hermione sighed, “but you’re going to have to help me- we need to get a lot better, at occlumency, and quickly, before we all go insane .”

Harry, who had been steadily improving his occlumency, really had no problem keeping Draco out of the parts that he didn’t want his boyfriend to see out of concern for him (memories of the Dursleys, which would only make him sad).  Draco, for his part, understood Harry’s intentions and had no problem avoiding that part of his shields. They had very few secrets from each other, and Harry pretty much knew about most of the stuff Lucius had said or done to him, so there were only a couple minor things that he pushed back.  They were quite comfortable with what was going on; the others, it seemed, were not.

“Fuck’s sake, Seamus,” Dean groaned as soon as he came awake.  “It is hot as shit in your head!”

“I don’t really have a thermostat in here, sorry babe- but if it makes you feel any better, all the footballs bouncing around in yours are giving me a killer headache.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better!” Dean snapped.  “Now we’re both miserable.”

“But you’re soulmates,” Harry pointed out to them.  “That’s something.”

“Oh, shove it, Har- you and Draco get along like you’ve been married fifty years, so I’m sure you’re doing just fine with all this.”

“He’s only trying to help,” Cho scolded them, while Cedric meanwhile tried to control his physical responses to Cho’s mind- she had some very dirty thoughts for the head girl.

“You liked me too?” Hannah squealed at Susan as their thoughts rapidly bounced back and forth.

“Forever!” the other Hufflepuff responded.  “But I was afraid to ask you out in case it ruined our friendship.”

“I was too afraid to ask you out,” Hannah seconded.  “But ohmygods we’re soulmates!”

“Oh Merlin, there’s millions of plants in my head,” Blaise suddenly groaned, turning to look at Neville, who blanched.

“Get it out get it out get these images out of my head! ” the Gryffindor screamed.  “Of all the people in the world for a soulmate, I get you , sir fucks-a-lot!”

“Does this mean I have to like, do the whole monogamy thing?” Blaise grumbled, looking very worried.

“You can do whatever you want, as long as you figure out how to get this porno out of my mind!!! ”

“I’m trying - these are very private kinks you’re witnessing,” Blaise face heated up as he tried to slam up some walls.

“I’m doing my best not to see them, but they’re still there!” Neville was going from white to green, by this point.

“You guys are making way too big a deal out of this,” Fred suddenly piped up.

“Yeah,” George agreed, motioning to him and his twin.  “ We’ve been in each others’ heads our whole lives, and we manage just fine.”

“So that’s how you get away with so much chaos- a twin legilimency bond!”  Ginny exclaimed, momentarily distracted from the wonderland that was Luna’s mind.

“Those are so rare,” Luna agreed, “almost as rare as Ginny’s head is beautiful,” she sighed.

Suddenly, Minerva came up into the tower, panting a little.  “Is everyone alright?” she asked, looking specifically at Harry.  “Half the school is in an uproar due to this whole ‘soulmate comet’ thing that is apparently very much not a legend .”

“We’re fine, for the most part,” Harry told her.  “Do you have a soulmate, Mama?”

Minnie looked at her son.  “There’s no voice in my head dear, so either I haven’t met them yet, they don’t know about magic, or I simply don’t have one.”

Harry looked up at her with his big eyes that showed every emotion.  “I’m sorry- are you gonna be okay?”

The tabby animagus smiled and sat down beside him.  “I’m fine- I’ve got you kitten, and that’s all I’ll ever need.”  She was caught slightly off guard but merely laughed as her son launched himself at her in a huge embrace.

[Meanwhile, on the dragon reserve in Romania, Charlie wakes up as usual, with a quiet mind full of only his own thoughts.  He doesn’t even realise that something momentus has happened until he goes down to the cantina for breakfast.]

Severus started awake with the distinct realisation that he was not alone, and his first instinct was to attempt to launch the foreign presence violently out his his mind.

“Hey, easy !” what could only be Julian Donovan’s voice boomed at him, disgruntled.

“Julian?!  What the hell are you doing in my head?!”  Severus’ normal composure was gone, especially as the person he was talking to was currently looking at his private thoughts, not his face.

“Beats me,” Severus felt what could only be described as a mental shrug from the other man inside his own head.  “I just woke up, and suddenly I’m surrounded by all this snark.”

“You’re one to talk,” Severus snorted at him, and Julian could feel the sarcasm from his flat in Knockturn alley.

“But I’m not talking- I’m thinking; and that’s kind of the problem here,” the other man sent down through this new mental bond.

Severus suddenly realised something, and his stomach sank to his knees- he was not ready to give up his carefully regimented programme of ignorance and denial.  “No!” he thought. “No no no nononono!”

“What is it?” Julian prodded him in a mental gesture that felt almost like a poke in the shoulder before he caught hold of Severus’ train of thought.  “Oh Merlin- we’re soulmates!” Then, instead of freaking the fuck out like any sensible person would do (in Severus’ opinion), he filled the others’ mind with booming laughter.  He laughed and laughed and laughed, and he must have been laughing out loud as well in his physical location, because Severus could feel him gasping for breath.

“Why are you not panicking, you imbecile?!” Severus snapped at him while Julian just kept sinking further into mirth.  “You are in my head now, and I in yours, and however far we may put our occlumency shields up, we cannot get the other completely out, and you’re just here chortling like one of those hyenas from that blasted children’s movie!”

“You’re telling me this isn’t the least bit hilarious to you, that you spend all this time acting like I’m the bane of your existence, when obviously you care about me a lot, or I wouldn’t be here?” Julian laughed some more before he spoke again.  “Well, no, I suppose this wouldn’t be as funny for you.”

“No,” Severus snapped.  “No, it is not. Now, I’m going to go work in my lab and put my shields up as far as I can, so you stay quiet in there.”

“Okay,” Julian smiled far too cheekily.  “You won’t hear a peep out of me- after all, we’ve got the rest of our lives to talk to each other.”

If it was possible to hex someone through a soul bond, Severus would have.  

[Hagrid is feeding the hippogriffs when there is suddenly a rapid firing of French by a woman’s voice filling his mind.  Once the voice switches to English, and he and Maxime realise what this means, she immediately takes a vacation from work and hitches the abraxi to her private sulky.  Merlin, Hagrid really is everything she thought he was.]

Tonks, Rosy, and Sarah had fallen asleep under the stars behind The Three Broomsticks while waiting to watch the comet.  Well-versed in the lore, when they woke up with each others’ voices in their heads, they knew immediately what it meant. While it might be concluded that this would naturally shock Sarah, the newest partner in their relationship, she was altogether not surprised, as she had long-since learned to trust her instincts, which had told her almost immediately that these women were her future.  Instead, she giggled as Tonks marvelled at the bond.

“Sarah, your mind’s so organised,” the auror exclaimed as she took in how nicely the mind-healer had compartmentalised her thoughts and feelings.

“And your mind is currently replaying an episode of The Three Stooges ,” Rosmerta chuckled at the metamorphmagus.  “Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, your mind wants breakfast,” Sarah laughed gently as thoughts of waffles and sausage floated through Rosy’s head.  “So why don’t we get on that?”

[Molly and Arthur have been married so long that they know each other like they know themselves by this point, but Molly is very pleased nonetheless- how practical, this soul bond.  She can remind her husband to eat the lunches she’s packed him when he gets caught up in his work, or ask him to pick up something she’s forgotten on the way home- simply wonderful, this useful little comet has been.  As his wife predicted, Arthur is mourning the fact that he will now have a lot more oversight on his experiments with muggle objects.  Oh well- less singed eyebrows, at least...]

“Well, our sex life is about to get a lot more interesting,” Sirius mused when he and Remus woke up to the other’s presence in their minds.

“It was pretty interesting to begin with- now it will be, like the comet that has caused this- out of this world,” Remus thought at him.  That, however, was as far as they got, for Cygnus, in a gesture most unusual for him, burst into their room without knocking.

“My boyfriend is in my mind; my boyfriend is in my mind- MY BOYFRIEND IS IN MY MIND! ” the muggle exclaimed, looking as happy as it was as humanly possible for a person to look.

Regulus stumbled in sleepily after him.  “Your mind is very loud,” he groaned, “and half of it is written in math.”  He rubbed his eyes, not at all surprised that the man he’d spent most of the last fourteen years with turned out to be his soulmate.

“Yes, yes- this is a magical opportunity- I’m probably the only physicist who has ever had another person in their head before.  This is simply the most marvellous thing in a whole world of marvellous things! To the lab!” he cheered as he dragged his lethargic, stumbling boyfriend to his basement physics laboratory.  

“Babe, c’mon, can we at least have breakfast first?” Regulus could be heard saying as the other couple descended the steps.  Sirius and Remus chuckled before looking at each other.

“Lazy morning sex?” the dog animagus asked, although from the bond he already knew what the answer would be.

“I’m still naked from last night, so we’re off to a good start.”

[For all her outward calm, Aralynn notes, Cissa’s mind is a whirlwind of ideas.  Somehow, she hadn’t expected anything less.]

“Ronald, I’m trying to study!” Hermione griped for the tenth time that day as they all huddled around the Gryffindor common room while nearby, Katie and Angelina batted around quidditch strategies in their mind through the new bond.

“And I’m trying to eat- for the love of Merlin, why us?!” the redhead yelled at the ceiling as Viktor rubbed the knots out of his shoulders, thankful he only had one person’s voice, that of his special little snidget, inside his head.

“I don’t know, but would you please stop gleefully repeating the thought ‘my gods, she was wrong, she was wrong, Hermione was wrong about the comet being just a comet and now that I’m in her head I’ll never let her forget it!’?” Mia snapped as Pansy did the same thing for the new knots in her shoulders that Viktor was doing for Ron.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a reflex at this point,” Ron informed her through a mouthful of cauldron cake.

“For fuck’s sake, Ronald Bilius Weasley, the one benefit to this damn thing so far is that now you can communicate with me without talking with your mouth full, so would you please make use of it?”

This is gonna be a long few weeks while they get used to this, isn’t it? Harry thought to his boyfriend/soulmate (!!!) as they cuddled by the fire.

Yeah, Draco chuckled, a warm, comforting sound in the meadow of Harry’s mental scape, it is- but somehow, I totally see why those two got paired up together.

You mean neither one of them ever lets us get a moment of peace? Harry told the blonde, taking full advantage of the fact that they could now communicate at the exact same time that Harry was nuzzling his neck.

That and the fact that they’re both stubborn enough to make a mule run for the hills, Draco agreed.

Have I ever told you that I love you?   Harry asked as he pictured a mule shaking its head in disbelief and running away from an arguing Ron and Hermione wondering how anyone could be so obstinate.

Only all the time, Draco said.   And now that I’m in your head I can feel it like the sun on my face.  And I can tell you all the time how much you mean to me, even in the middle of one of Snape’s lectures.  

Oh my god, Harry suddenly snorted out loud.   Do you think Uncle Sev and…?

Only one way to find out , the blonde agreed, as Harry silently appareted them to the slytherin corridor, where they could hear the head of Slytherin through the door of his quarters, yelling loudly at a man who wasn’t physically there.  He came out ten minutes later to find his nephew and his godson holding their sides as tears rolled down their face from laughter, and he sighed- he just couldn’t catch a break today.

Or ever, Julian supplied cheekily.  

Shut up, Severus grumbled.

Technically, I’m not actually saying anything.

Oh Merlin- this is my life now.

You know it, babe.

Don’t call me babe.  

If you say so, babe.

Harry cast a cushioning charm just in time as he witnessed what he was sure was the first time someone had ever fainted from sheer frustration as Severus crumpled dramatically on top of the soft landing of magic.

Chapter Text

On Halloween morning, at 7:20 am, just as the children in Hogwarts were waking up and discovering the soul bonds, Lily and James Potter pushed through the veil for their first haunt, ready to avenge their child (well, nothing would ever truly make up for what Harry went through, but they were going to give it a damn good shot).  They reached Little Whinging just before Kreacher came down the drive, whistling and swinging his new frying pan, his name engraved in lovely script on the handle.  

Before they intercepted the elf, the couple took a moment to examine Kreacher’s handiwork on the house- there was, of course, a notice-me-not charm on the entire property, and it looked like the Dursley’s hadn’t left it in a very long time- the grass was overgrown, the paint was chipping, a shutter on the windowsill was hanging loose.  In short, the very appearance of the house would surely be a nightmare for her sister, even discounting the havok the little creature had been wreaking inside it.

“Hey, Kreacher!” Lily called, and the elf turned to look at them, surprised to see the ghostly forms of James and Lily Potter (while with humans only the haunted could see the haunters, goblins and house elves were of a genus that could see them as well, as if their families or clients were being haunted, it fell under their job description).

“Masters James and Lily Potter!” the elf cried.  “Yous come down!”

“Yes,” James told him, his voice unusually serious.  “We’ve come down- you’re doing a great job with them, of course, and we were going to let you get on with it so we could spend more time watching Harry, but after he got the diagnosis for the immune disorder this summer, we decided to enact some revenge of our own in the land of the living- do you think you could help us with setup?”

“Kreacher of course be helping set the scene for the revenge!” the elf cried gleefully.

“We also want to get revenge on Dumbledore as well- for being such an interfering know-it-all that Harry was caught in the cross-fire,” Lily added.

“Kreacher be having an apprentice!” he exclaimed, pulling out a muggle cellphone.  Flipping it open, he pressed a number on his speed dial. “Winky,” he greeted. “Can yous be getting day off today?  Yes- good. Kreacher be having a job for yous. Masters Potters be haunting today, and they need yous to help set-up and keep dumb old door very nervous untils they be getting to him.  You got it- good. Kreacher is being very proud of winky.” There was a squeak that could be heard on the other line of the phone before he flipped it shut.

“So, what is being the ideas?” Kreacher turned to the Potters, looking confident and in charge of the situation.  James marvelled at how different he was from the stories he’d heard from Sirius when they were growing up- they knew the elf was fond of him and had been doing much better since Grimmauld Place had been redone, but it was amazing to think that their sweet, amazing son had been the catalyst for his complete rejuvenation from a sad, grumpy old elf to one so full of life and excitement and empathy.  

“Okay, so here’s the plan…”

[After they revive a very dramatic Severus Snape, Minnie takes Harry to Grimmauld Place over lunch so Tonks can add Hedwig to his tattoo as a special surprise on such a sad day.  His beloved first familiar has her body cradling his forearm, with her wings wrapped around his wrist, and her soft head nuzzles his pulse point lovingly. The sheer gratitude to Minnie and Tonks Draco can feel through their bond inundates him- his Harry really does love with his whole heart and focus on the best things, even at the worst times.]

The Dursleys day started a little later than normal, as they had been allowed to “sleep in,” which was rather unusual for them lately, as normally Kreacher, their own personal karma demon, woke them in the wee hours of the morning with some new horror or other.  But it was 8:00 am before they began to stir, vivid dreams slipped into their consciousness, like a soft mist of fog that thickened suddenly and encircled them in its viscosity.

Petunia was 9 years old again, and Lily was seven, and they were playing hide-and-seek in the park.  There was a large opening near the roots of an old oak tree where her little sister liked to hide, so she headed their, anxious to find her- their parents would not be happy if she had lost their dearest Lily.  As she checked the hole, unable to spot the telltale halo of auburn hair that distinguished the younger Evans daughter, she had a sharp, sudden premonition that she was being watched.

She turned so rapidly she felt her feet in their little white mary janes start to lose traction, and when she actually saw what was in front of her, she fell completely, dirtying the frilly gingham dress she insisted on wearing even though they would be playing outside.

Her sister stood in front of her, looking highly unlike she remembered her- her face was pale, so pale and grey Petunia could see the veins under her skin, and her normally vibrant green eyes were sunken, dull, and lifeless.  Her hair, however, was as brilliant and vibrant as it had always been, and set against this frightening face, Petunia had the discomfiting vision of a picture they’d seen in Sunday school, long ago, of the fires at the gates of hell, and she couldn’t help but feel that they had come to suck her in.

“ HOW COULD YOU ?!” the thing in her sister’s body screamed, agonized and infuriated.  Petunia didn’t know what to say, so she stood their shaking so har she could feel her stockings sliding down as not-quite-Lily raised an ornate stick and pointed it at her.  Child Petunia at the time hadn’t known what this was, and child Lily wouldn’t have even had one yet, but the adult part of Petunia’s mind, buried, suffocating under the vivid nightmare, blanched in fear as she finally pushed the legs of her dream-self to run.  Lily chased her, inhumanly fast, and her little hand, nails painted blood-red, had reached out, almost able to wrap around Petunia’s throat, when she woke up screaming, along with her husband, who was, due to his greater size, screaming a good deal louder.  She had no idea what Vernon had dreamt about (in fact, it had been that Marge had mistaken him for Harry and was feeding him to her dogs), and she hadn’t the courage nor the desire to ask.

Someone had moved Petunias vanity to right in front of their bed, and as they bolted awake, they caught the clear reflection of Petunia’s dead sister and her husband, fully grown, staring straight at them in the mirror, not blinking, not moving, but with murder in their eyes and snarling, screaming expressions in the set of their mouths.  A single blink, and the images were gone, so Petunia looked at Vernon, and he at her, as they silently agreed they had imagined the whole thing, and that they should shake it off. They had seen no sign of their elven tormentors thus far, and they were stupid enough to believe that maybe they had finished with them. They resolved to dress as if it were a normal day (and oh, it had been so long since they’d had one), put on their clothes, and check to see if they could get the front door open today.  Nevermind that surely Vernon would have lost his job by this time after so long of being MIA (he had, although the fact that they kept him on in the first place after he was arrested for tax evasion three years ago spoke to their sub-par business morals in the first place), or that the neighbours thought that Petunia and Vernon had taken their spoilt son and moved to Glasgow (“rather working class , isn’t it?” they whispered over tea as if they were discussing a scandal.  “Must be because he’s lost his job- never did fit in with the rest of us, did they?  Something strange about the way they hid that little nephew that we knew so little about…).  No, they were determined that things could go back to how they’d been, before those Potters just up and died and burdened them with their orphaned son.  Oh, how wrong they were…

Nice clothes had been laid out on the bed, clothes of the quality they hadn’t seen in a long time, most of their clothes having been confiscated by the elves.  They didn’t question why they were on the bed when they hadn’t put them there, rather, because their pathetic brains had infinite capacity for denial, they told themselves they must have laid them there before; the nightmare must have made them forget.  Turning their backs on each other like a proper Christian couple, they put the clothes on, only for the garments to pull a reverse-Cinderella and fade to grungy, stinking rags (although, to be fair, neither the rags or the original clothing had nearly the amount of taste as Cinderella’s).  

“Perhaps the little devil’s left us one last surprise,” Vernon grunted, trying for a fake little laugh that made his mustache quiver (a mustache that was significantly thinner, as lately Vernon had been plucking it out due to stress).

“Of course,” Petunia agreed with a disdainful sniff.  “Couldn’t leave us well enough alone. No matter, let’s check the closets.”  

They were narrow-minded people (as narrow as the eye of a wee bitty needle, as it turns out, or perhaps even narrower- microscopically narrow, really…), and thus were very surprised when the closet, once again full of their regular clothes, provided vestments that ended up in the same state of disarray as soon as they’d settled fully onto their bodies.  It truly didn’t occur to them that their pursuer was smart enough to predict their next (rather predictable) move, as even though the little elf (and later, elves , not that they could tell the difference) was clearly far more intelligent than they, he (and later she) looked different than they did, and thus must be terribly stupid and sub-human.

The smell of breakfast, fried sausages and bacon and freshly baked bread of the quality they hadn’t enjoyed since they’d had Harry around to be their slave, wafted upstairs, and they gave up trying to find proper clothing as they followed it.  The elf (elves) hadn’t been letting them eat well lately, and anything they did have usually made them violently ill (much like the rotten scraps they had often fed Harry).  They automatically assumed that their dear Dudders, seeing the absence of their tormentor, had made them breakfast.  They were too hungry to really think beyond that, or to wonder where the food had come from, since they hadn’t had any food in the house in months, besides what Kreacher and Winky had seen fit to give them.

They went downstairs to find that places had been set for them at the table, although Dudley wasn’t there (“probably off to school, responsible little tyke,” Vernon grunted) so they set down to the plentiful, succulent looking breakfast and loaded their plates, taking no time for the manners they so prided themselves on.  As soon as the first bite touched their lips, however, it rotted in their mouths, a sickly, slimy, unpalatable goo that turned to ash that scraped their throats as it went down. However, they were hungry, so, like Harry had often done, they choked it down to satisfy the ravenous clawing of their insides. As soon as the food was gone, they hurled their plates away from them, trying to rid their noses of the smell as quickly as possible.  As the glass shattered, a fwoop sound was heard, and the two cried out in agony as they felt the sensation of a belt crack down upon their backs, like they’d so often done to Harry.  A soapy frying pan zoomed out of the sink to hit Petunia in the head, like she’d so often done to her nephew, and Vernon heard Marge’s voice saying “try this- ought to teach him some respect” and felt the breath knocked out of him as he was hit in the chest with a dog chain (keep in mind, dear reader, that Vernon is a lot bigger than Harry is, and is being hit with the same amount of force with the same cruel tool).  Petunia felt the sharp whack of garden shears coming down on her hand, hitting her like she’d hit Harry when she wasn’t satisfied with his pruning.  They screamed and cried, and when they looked up to beg for an end to this maddening agony, it wasn’t the elves they saw but James and Lily, a truly terrifying version of James and Lily, with empty eye-sockets full of black, red, and orange flames.  Screaming further, they turn and run for the patio doors, which were locked, as every door in the house had been for weeks.  In case they had any designs of breaking the glass to get free, Kreacher had boarded the doors and windows from the outside. Trembling so furiously their knees were actually knocking together and their teeth banging together hard enough to cause cracks in a few of them, they turned to face James and Lily, but they were gone.  Well, not gone, but invisible, which was even more frightening as omniscient, horrifying and cruel laughter (much like the laughter Vernon himself created as he used Harry as a punching bag) filled the air around them, so loudly they felt it ought to rock the house down, but the nightmare house stayed standing. They try to run for the door from the kitchen to the living room, they find it has been coated in cooking oil, and in addition to the plates they had already thrown, more started flying from the cabinets, and they slipped and slid along sharp shards of glass as their blood mixes with the oil on the floor.  Petunia collapsed to her knees by the dishwasher they had bought during Harry’s first year in Hogwarts (they used to revel in making him wash them by hands, but when it would have been them doing it all year while he was away, they happily paid for the appliance), wailing and tugging her disheveled, frizzing hair as she picks shards of her best china out of the palms of her hands.

[Dumbledore, in the Department of Mysteries, suddenly shivers, feeling like this must feel like to a spirit when someone walks over their grave.  The floor stones are polished to a higher sheen than he remembers, and he’s imagined movement out of the corner of his eyes all day. While he feels unsettled and a tad frightened, he tells himself that this is nothing he can’t handle- he is the great Albus Dumbledore, after all, and this is for the greater good.  He pulls out the lunch the house elves have packed him and begins to eat… only to nearly choke as the flashes in the corner of his eyes gain a shape and a face- those of James and Lily Potter.]

The next time Petunia looked up, she realised that her husband was no longer in the kitchen, and that she had no idea where he could have gone.  Then she screamed as a shard of glass was shoved into her elbow (she recalls, dimly in the back of her mind, that she once did this to Harry when he dropped some of her china- nevermind that he hadn’t eaten that day and was being expected to carry far more than even a healthy seven-year-old could).  She heard Vernon scream in tandem with her, from the opposite side of the house (Vernon was screaming because he was being cut with a broken whiskey bottle, still dripping in alcohol. He had done the same thing to Harry on numerous occasions, whenever he was dissatisfied with the amount of lemon or honey in his hot toddy).  They were forced to hear each other scream for a few more agonising moments as they continue to experience only a few of the things they had done to Harry over the years, and it is only when they stopped to catch their breath that they realise the temperature has dropped, that they can see their ragged exhalations and that the tears of agony and terror have frozen to their faces.

Through the crystallizing tears, Petunia looked up into the face of her furious sister, her skin back to normal and her eyes their usual green, but their is fury etched into every line of her perfect complexion.

“Do you know why I’m here, Tuney ?” she asked, her heart shaped lips, so much fuller and lovelier than Petunias thin ones, spit out the childhood nickname like it has a bad taste, and Petunia, on her knees, answers through her sobs.

“No- why are you destroying my life like this?!” she cried to the redhead, who stood above her like an avenging goddess.

“You dare ask me that question!” Lily’s voice was low and deadly, hard as the floor under her feet.  “You dare presume not to know why you’re being punished after the way you treated my son, my wonderful, perfect, kind-hearted talented son, who would have given back tenfold any drop of affection that you’d offered him, if you had the basic human decency not to treat him like an old washrag?! ”  Her voice rose in crescendo and pitch at the end, shattering the glass of the windows as it flew inward, the wind created blowing her hair around her face like a wildfire.  “ Why, why would you treat my child like this, when mum and dad never treated you any differently- even when you were at your nastiest and meanest- they loved you the same!”

Petunia’s anger finally overrode her fear enough for her to speak.  “The same- the same!   They loved you so much more, were proud of your freakishness and your frogspawn and your silly magic wand.  They were so proud of you!”

Lily actually stepped forward and slapped her sister (in nothing but blood anymore) across the face.  “How dare you insult their memory like that- they were proud of me, but they made sure that you knew how much they loved you as well!  They praised your grades and hung your school reports on the fridge and bought you new things when I was away, because they wanted to make you feel better- and you never showed them gratitude for any of it!  It was unfortunate that two of the best people I ever knew had such a… such a… a cunt for an eldest daughter!”

Petunia gasped at the indecency of the language being used in her home, and Lily barked a short, bitter laugh.  “Oh, so I can’t say a naughty word, but your husband can beat the crap out of my son and you don’t care as long as he made my sweet little boy clean up the blood afterwards- typical,” she snorted, and kicked her sister, wishing she was corporeal enough for it to do some real damage.  “You want to know what your precious son is like- here, let me show you!”

It was as if a barrier in Mrs. Petunia Dursley’s mind had shattered as she saw her son as he truly was- a useless, good-for-nothing ingrate who had never done a useful thing in his life- a monster, a bully, a child in need of serious behaviour modification- all because she had made him that way.  She and her husband, who was receiving the same treatment from James as he saw his son not as a strapping young sports star who simply didn’t bother to put in the effort for schoolwork because it wasn’t necessary for someone of his talent, but a lazy, clumsy reprobate who wouldn’t know what to do in school even if he did try- why, his son was one of those children who would have needed special tutoring- a shame on the family (the fact that children have different talents and that not being classically academically intelligent or good at sports did not make them useless did not occur to Vernon)!

Petunia tries to rush to the upstairs bedroom, where her husband is being kept, but she keeps seeing James and Lily in the many mirrors that appear in her path (courtesy of Kreacher) as they shatter anad cut her up.  She also sees Dudley- the real Dudley, and upstairs, Vernon is being chased and cornered by porcelain dolls (he was terrified of porcelain dolls) in the likeness of James, Lily, and how he had so recently come to see his son (Vernon actually saw Dudley as worse than he actually was, for, while Dudley certainly had the capacity for redemption, Vernon only saw a dumb, uncoordinated fool with no good qualities).  Finally, he screamed and rushed through the dolls, falling headlong down the stairs, and as he crashed into his wife, coming up to reach him. They felt their hair pulled and their rags of clothing grabbed as they were shoved headlong into the cupboard under the stairs, where Kreacher had placed a boggart.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were locked into the tight space and forced to watch as their son, already so far lowered as to be unworthy of love (in their opinions) held up a… a wand and cast a lumos…

[Dudley sleeps in his room, thrashing with nightmares, but otherwise unharmed as the Potters have left him until they are ready to deal with him.]

Leaving the boggart to do its work for a while, Lily and James return to the Department of Ministries, where Dumbledore has been growing steadily more frightened all day, but unwilling to leave the prophecy.  Until, of course, he suddenly lost consciousness, only to wake up in a small room of mirrors and no door, the ghosts of James and Lily Potter looking angrily down at him.

“Hello, Albus,” Lily spat, while Dumbledore quaked in his cowboy boots.

“We’ve got something to show you,” James continued, as the mirrors began to reflect scenes of times past.

Dumbledore is forced to watch in a sort of warped time-loop every miserable scene of Harry’s childhood (and they were all miserable scenes), ever instance in which Draco Malfoy was hurt and belittled by his father, every case of poor Neville being terrorised into showing signs of accidental magic, all those cases in which he at least had reason to suspect that all was not how it should be, and yet willfully ignored it for the ‘greater good’ or the good of his own conscience, causing harm to those subject to his machinations.  He feels his mind, his great, powerful mind, the pride and joy of his existence, that which he values and nurtures with the same sense of pride as his powerful magic, begin to strain under the pressure and the stress of everything he has done.

[The Weasley children, minus Percy, write letters home about their new soulmates (except Charlie, who wrote ‘yes mum, still aroace, still only giving you dragons as grandkids.’); Ron’s are rather full of complaints about Hermione’s voice in his head.]

As the moon climbs higher in the sky, James and Lily visit their nephew, whose nightmares suddenly transition from vague flashes of fear and discomfort into vivid memories about all the things he’s done to Harry and other innocent children he’s bullied at school.  With James and Lily carefully directing these memories, he begins to see the abhorrence of his behavior, and furthermore, the abhorrence of the way Harry was treated in childhood. He watches as his parents grossly mistreat and abuse Harry long before he shows any signs of accidental magic, and for things far outside of that, things that every child does- trip and fall, drop things, break things by accident.  

He sees how each instance of his treatment of Harry makes things worse, how his cousin receives terrible beatings that he was never witness to because he, Dudley, had blamed some of his own behaviour on his cousin, even though he wouldn’t have gotten into trouble for it with his parents.  He watches as instances of his bullying push Harry emotionally until he is stressed or upset enough to manifest a bout of accidental magic, magic that Harry could control no more than he, Dudley, could control the difficulties with reading and learning, difficulties he hid by pretending that he was too good to do schoolwork or pay attention in class.  

Dudley sees his parents how they really are, but, much more frighteningly, he sees himself the way he is, and he sees his future, should he continue down his current path.  It is a future of fighting and loneliness, unemployment, violence, being in and out of prison and loved by no-one.  And he resolves that he doesn’t want to be like that.  He wants to change, to be more like his cousin, who never hurt anyone, even if they deserved it, and who chose to continue to fight and look for goodness in the world even when he wasn’t shown any.  His aunt and uncle witness his inner struggle, and are pleased to see that he genuinely wants to work on his character. They will give him a year to work on this and see if he will hold to his resolution- he will be able to leave the house now, while his parents will not.  It is quite possible that now, knowing how they are, he will try to avoid them as much as possible or even leave altogether. A number of pamphlets on resources for teen runaways and help for learning disabilities are left on his dresser as Dudley slips into a dreamless sleep, and James and Lily go to make their final stand before they are forced back into the veil.

In the cupboard, Petunia and Vernon have witness Dudley casting a number of spells, some of which are on them, and he is a freak, he is proficient at this freakishness!   They cannot move, but are forced to watch for what is only hours but feels like days before their son finally disappears in a final feat of ‘magic’ (really Kreacher just invisibly removes the boggart).  They are able to move again, and the first thing Vernon does is to turn to Petunia.

“ This is from your side of the family- this freakisness, this… ABOMINATION ! ” he screams at her, as he reaches to grab her by the hair.  

“ Well, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out like this if you’d been a better father!” Petunia screeches in a noise that would horrify a banshee (conveniently forgetting that she was a horrible mother, and that neither one of those things would factor into Dudley being a wizard, if he were one).  She yanks her hair back and slaps him, and they tumble out of the newly-unlocked cupboard hissing and spitting and scratching at each other like wild animals.

At this point, the night is nearly over, and James and Lily have reached their most corporeal.  Deciding to relieve their rage and anger and hurt with some good old-fashioned physical exertion, they pull the screaming, hissing, biting, pathetic couple apart and begin throwing them around with all their strength, aided by magic, shoving them into the walls the same way Vernon used to throw Harry around before forcing him to fix the dents or scratches in the paint his small body had created.  They continue to do this until the clock strikes midnight and they are pulled back into the veil.

They both collapse onto the soft ground outside of their little home (decorated with pictures of Harry they had taken from the afterlife, through the little window they used to watch him almost constantly), leaning into each other.  James and Lily begin to cry at the exact same time, spent from their anger and their rage and left with only grief and heartache. The Dursleys had gotten what they deserved, and they were glad they’d done it, surely. They may have even put their nephew on the path to a better life.  But at the end of the day, their son had still lived through over ten years of hell, and they couldn’t hold him.

Chapter Text

While James and Lily were carrying out their revenge plans, Harry and his friends and family at the castle were preparing for an evening of trick-or-treating in Hogsmeade, an idea that Minerva came up with.  While a lot of nerves were still frazzled due to the whole “holy shit we’re all in each other’s heads now, apparently” thing, an evening of trick-or-treating was as good a way to calm down as any. Their friends that just graduated were coming as well, and bringing Bill, and Remus and Sirius mirror-called Harry to let him know the Grimmauld Gang™ would be coming as well (minus Kreacher, of course, because he already had plans- torture plans).  Draco’s mums, unfortunately, were busy with Cissa’s campaign, but they had a way to make up for that.

“Come on, Sevvy, just put the costume on!”  Pansy, dressed like the goddess Artemis (with a real bow and arrows, of course, because she’s legit boss), matched her girlfriends, who were dressed as Athena (Mia) and Hera (Millie).

“I am not wearing that monstrosity!” the Head of Slytherin asserted, shoving aside the Batman costume that his student was trying to shove into his hands as Julian’s laughter roared in his head.  Julian, of course, was using occlumency to prevent Severus from seeing his costume through the bond, because he was actually trying for this juvenile holiday, for some reason.

I heard that, Julian taunted him.

Of course you did- you hear everything because you are stuck in my head! Severus snipped back as Pansy demanded his attention again.

“Look- it’s got a utility belt!” she squealed.  “Please wear it!”

“No,” Severus grumbled, and Millie laughed into her hand as she got a mental image of Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, but with Severus’ hair.  Pansy, who also saw it, passed it along through her bond to Mia, who started chortling as well.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Pansy told the glaring professor (who had no idea what they were laughing about, but figured- correctly- that it was something non-complimentary about him), “but I supposed I’m going to have to call in reinforcements.”  She had the four-way mirror that Harry’s friends all shared, so she called Harry, who apparated rather quickly, dressed as The Flash, with Draco the silver dragon in tow (Yes, Draco’s costume was a dragon onesie onesie with monster footie boots- Harry liked it).

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked his friends, and Pansy held out the costume mournfully.

“The git won’t wear it,” she complained, and Severus glared at her for calling him a git, about to open his mouth.

No, you can’t give a kid detention on Halloween, Julian’s voice told him, and Severus gave his soulmate the mental image of his middle finger before he reluctantly shut up.

Harry, meantime, had softened his eyes to his best ‘please please please I’m so innocent and adorable you really want to give me anything I ask for don’t you?’ expression, and he angled his head to just the right tilt as he jutted his lower lip out just a tad.

“Please, Uncle Sev?” he begged, and damn, he was precious.  He’d managed to put back on some of the weight he’d lost during his bout of dragon pox, so his dimples were clearly visible in his smooth cheeks (his dorm mates hated that the kid never got a single pimple- like, ever- even fucking acne thought he was too cute to mess with!).

“Give me the stupid costume,” he sighed, defeated, again wishing he could hex Julian through the bond as laughter filled his head.  

“Don’t forget the belt!” Harry smiled, and Severus hated how much he wanted to pinch Harry’s cheeks like he were a sweet little toddler.  Instead he settled for a ‘cheeky brat’ and ruffled his hair.

His students were all waiting for him to come out of his quarters like eager little animals, and Harry’s eyes lit up, while the girls laughed uproariously and Draco stared adoringly at his boyfriend, revelling in the happiness he could feel through the bond at Harry’s joy and excitement for his first real Halloween.

“We’re both superheroes!” Harry squealed as he bounced on the balls of his feet a little (it was his first Halloween that wasn’t marred by tragedy, so of course he was a little more excitable than he normally was).

“No, you’re a superhero,” Severus mumbled.  “I, like the real Batman, am a man in a suit.”

Harry hadn’t heard him, as, dragging Draco by the hand, he’d already started towards the main entrance of the castle, where everyone who wanted to trick-or-treat was to gather.

“Hola Bee,” Harry greeted his little friend.  “¡Ay- eres un abeja- que linda!”

Bee, dressed as (you guessed it, a Bee), smiled at him.  “La broma no funciona tan bueno en español, desafortunado.”

“Ay, claro- ¿inglés?” Harry asked, to the relief of all his friends (except for Draco, who could gather the meaning because he could hear him translating in his head).

“Yes, I’m a bee, and I’m Bee,” the first year told the others. “Laugh all you want- Harry already did.  I will warn you, Pansy said I’m the most natural knife-thrower she’s ever trained.” Obviously, no further teasing occured.

“Hey guys,” George and Fred, dressed as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, respectively, walked up to the gathering group.

“Nicely done,” Pansy approved.

“Thanks,” Tweedle Dee said, as Tweedle Dum caught sight of Snape and his face broke out in a grin, followed by George/Tweedle Dee.

“Don’t. Say. A. Word.” Severus told them through gritted teeth, and they wisely kept silent, although they discreetly snapped a few pictures with a muggle disposable camera.

“Nanananana Batman!” Ron chanted as he joined them.

“Says the guy who’s dressed like a ball of golden fluff,” the professor quipped, because Julian’s voice was still reminding him he couldn’t assign detentions.

“I’m a snidget!” Ron cried, lifting his arms/wings.  “Hermione, stop laughing at me in your head!”

“I’m sorry!” the girl cried, clutching her ribs, “I can’t- you’re just so cute!”

“Fish are friends, not food,” Viktor broke in, dressed as Bruce the shark.

“You don’t eat unicorns either, right?” Ginny’s voice called out from between the head of a two-person unicorn costume (Luna was the back end).  “Don’t worry Harry- we’re not actually a unicorn, so we won’t rush you or force feed you sausages.”

“Ha ha,” Harry rolled his eyes at them, but he was too excited to really be frustrated with them.

Luckily, the teasing was soon turned on others as Neville and Blaise walked up.

“What on earth are you supposed to be?” Bee snorted.  “A dirty baby and a… weird shovel?”

“I’m a mandrake,” Neville explained, since Bee wouldn’t know until second year what one was.  

“And you?” Pansy raised an eyebrow at Blaise.

“Oh Merlin!” Harry gasped, especially familiar with gardening, “you’re a hoe!  He’s a mandrake, and you’re his hoe!” He wiped a tear of mirth out of one eye as Draco supported him so he wouldn’t double over, while also trying to catch his breath himself.

“Oh my goddesses!” Pansy snorted, “how did he ever get you to agree to that.”

“I owed him for all the accidental porn this morning,” Blaise sighed, shrugging, his head sticking out of the metal bit at the end of the hoe costume.

“Well, nobody can top that,” Millie exclaimed, just as the Grimmauld Gang™ walked up.

“Swan Princess and his prince,” Draco giggled, pointing at Reg, dressed as a giant black swan, and Cygnus, in a handsome prince outfit, “and a wolf and a black sheep… isn’t that kind of a… sensitive área for you, Uncle Remy?”

Remus smiled at the honorific.  “My friends made werewolf jokes for seven years, so this is nothing, especially now that my furry little problem is gone.”

“Ah,” Sirius sighed, “I can enjoy so many more gay benefits now that my husband no longer has a time of the month.”  Remus smacked him upside his fuzzy head.

“Oh look, another furry!” Susan, a devil, holding the hand of Hannah, an angel, pointed at Cedric, who had stopped at Ravenclaw tower to pick up Cho, who was wearing the buttercup-yellow hanbok from the Yule Ball last year, while Cedric wore a furry beast costume with a coat on top (at least, they assumed it was Cedric, since he was wearing one of those mascot heads).

“So I didn’t shave today- there’s no need to laugh at me,” Cedric joked, his giant paw draped gently over Cho’s shoulder.

“The lesbians are here!” Tonks cheered as she came up.

“Kind of hard to take that seriously when you’re dressed like a guy,” Reg rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Hey- shut up!  I’m Arthur Pendragon, and these,” she pointed at Rosmerta, wearing a sword costume, and Sarah, in a gray blobby something or other, “are my sword and my stone.”

“The sword is supposed to be in the stone,” Severus couldn’t resist jibing.

“Hey, that is an inappropriate image for children,” Tonks joked.  “Bad Batman!”

“So, who’re we waiting on?” Harry broke in, hoping to avoid a showdown.

“Just the frenchies and the hot Weasley,” Blaise said.  “Oh, and Julian.”

“Hey- I’m the hot Weasley!” Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum said at the same time.

“Keep telling yourself that, bros,” Bill suddenly came up with his girlfriends, dressed like a mummy (because he did some curse-breaking in Egypt, and the twins weren’t the only Weasleys with a sense of humour- rather, Percy was the only one without one).

“Wow- excellent use of your Hijab,” Pansy complimented Malala, who was dressed as the little mermaid, with a red hijab in her hair and a green one repurposed as a wrap around her legs tied to resemble a tail.

“Zhank you,” Malala told her.

“Oh, and there’s two blondes dressed as Lord of the Ring characters,” Julian suddenly came up, previously noticed only by Harry and his mage senses, and Draco through the bond.  “We’re Legolas and Galadriel,” he smiled at Fleur as Severus turned to glare at him.

“How come you’re in my head and I still didn’t notice you coming?” he grumbled at the other man.

“There’s this thing called occlumency,” Julian enunciated sardonically.  “And I used it so my costume would be a surprise- you’re rather good at it too, and the fact that you haven’t been tells me that maybe you don’t mind my being in your head as much as you say you do.”

Severus glared daggers at the other man, but before they could get into a real argument, Minerva, dressed like Catwoman, called for the group to get moving.  Julian did, however, discreetly grab Severus’ hand, and the man didn’t immediately yank it away, but rather let it rest there a minute.

“You may go anywhere within the village as long as you use the buddy system,” Minnie announced.  “Be back at the castle by eleven.” Then she came to join her son, bending down to kiss him on the head.

“Hi mama- thanks so much for doing this!” Harry greeted her eagerly, dragging Draco towards the first house, and the tabby animagus’ heart melted, like it always did when her son called her mama.

[Minerva told the residents of Hogsmeade ahead of time to have sugar-free candy on hand for Bee, and since they all bought a whole bag and Bee was the only diabetic, she ended up with more candy than any of them (except Harry, who was so adorable and also could still use a lot of fattening up, so of course everyone was tempted to load up his bucket).  Harry had to show her how to do an undetectable extension charm so their treats would fit in their bags.]

“That was so much fun!” Harry cheered, on a major sugar high as they headed back to the castle two hours later.  “Whee!” He spun around gleefully, but tripped on a rock and scraped his knee, and Draco panicked as a little blood came out.

“Ah- babe you’re bleeding ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod what about your iron levels?!”

Harry rolled his eyes at him.  “My iron levels are fine,” he reassured him.  “And it’s just a little blood.”

“But it stings- I can feel it through the bond!” Draco wrung his hands.

“Only a little,” Harry reassured him.  “See- you can feel- it’s barely bothering you.”  Draco, through the bond, had to admit it wasn’t extreme pain, especially for Harry’s tolerance levels, but any at all for his precious love was too much- too much, he tells you!

“I’ve got it,” Severus pulled his first aid kit out of his utility belt, ignoring the snickers from some of the others.  An antiseptic potion and a couple latex-free band-aids later, and Draco finally calmed down (Harry had never been anything but calm).

“Sleepover in the come-and-go-room?” Pansy asked all the kids, who nodded eagerly.

“Judging by the jitters in Harry’s mind, we have about two hours before the sugar crash,” Draco agreed, and they all headed merrily up.  Minnie checked on her son one more time, and Sev checked the bandage on Harry’s arm (he’d had his immunoglobulin subcutaneous injection earlier that day) and made sure the injection site wasn’t showing any more redness before all the adults conjured up lots of bedding, jumpers, and made sure the room gave plenty of snacks.

“I’ve got a really nice bottle of aged firewhisky in our quarters,” Sirius motioned to him and Remus (as if anyone could misunderstand what he meant by ‘our quarters’) as he addressed the other adults.

“Sirius Black and Severus Snape spending time together of their own free will,” Tonks snorted.  “I feel a disturbance in the force.”

“I can’t believe I’m making plans with you people,” Severus rolled his eyes but nevertheless agreed as they all headed towards the defence professor’s quarters, the sound of children telling ghost stories but breaking down in laughter before they got to the scary parts rang out behind them.

“Nanananana… grumpy!” Regulus teased him.

“Nanananananana… let’s get drunk,” Severus replied deadpan, before they all broke down into laughter, and even the potions professor cracked a smile as Julian sent him a tickling feeling through their bond.

Chapter Text

Narcissa sat with her wife in Lucius’ old study, which she had redecorated the moment he was arrested.  Where before the wall had been lined with bookshelves full of publications on the black arts and newspaper clippings on the rise of Voldemort, now there were pictures of Draco, Aralynn, and her together as a family, and the shelves were nearly overflowing with the couple’s favourite novels- for Narcissa, it was mainly classics by female authors like Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte, while Aralynn loved dime-store paperbacks full of adventure stories, with the occasional work of lesbian erotica (those received a lot less perusal since she’d moved in with Cissa).  The desk was currently stacked with prophet articles about the ministerial race, and the blonde pursed her lips as she scanned the recent poll numbers.

    “We’re doing well- although I’d like to be a bit more than 60% majority,” Narcissa told Aralynn, who was sitting on the desk as her old converse tapped the sideboards on the wall behind it.

    “That’s probably all the old purebloods and shit that are voting against you though, yeah?” She asked as she chewed a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair.  

    “Not the entire 40%,” Narcissa explained.  “Part of the thing that gives them such a superiority complex is that they are so rare compared to the rest of the wizarding population- there are only 28 families that have never intermarried with muggles, which they call the ‘sacred 28’,” she rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t fathom the stupidity of some people.  “There were 29, before James married Lily, and the Weasleys are one of the 28, although that was more through circumstance than any concentrated effort on their part, so those that consider themselves both ‘pure’ and ‘true to the pureblood agenda’ are an even smaller number.  We’ll never be able to win their vote, so we shouldn’t even bother. But even being very generous with the estimate of how many of such voters there are, and factoring the inevitable bribery and corruption that will boost the status of their votes, they shouldn’t account for more than 20%.”

    “So we need to figure out why the other 20% are against you,” Ara surmised, to which Narcissa gave a nod of confirmation.  “Do you think it’s more the fact that we’re lesbians, or that we’re clearly aligned with Harry and therefore believe Voldemort’s back?”

    “Probably both,” Narcissa sighed and pulled a pin out of her hair, tossing it with unflinching accuracy at the dartboard in the corner, where it landed in the dead center with a fwang.   “And even though most aren’t radically purist, the fact that my wife is a muggle probably isn’t helping anything.”

    “Should we fake a divorce?” Ara teased.  “Scandal always makes for more press coverage.”

    “Not the kind we need at the moment,” Cissa rolled her eyes at her wife and tweaked her ear as she thanked a house elf, who had come in with a plate of sandwiches.

    “Mistresses be eating now,” the elf, whose name was Flopsy, told them sternly as she put her hands on her hips.  “None of this ‘getting busy and forgetting’ nonsense.”

    “Yes Flopsy- we promise,” Aralynn smiled at her and patted her head.  “Although if you have any ideas for our predicament, we’d be amenable.”

    “Flopsy be going and messing with the polls if people being stupid enough not to elect Mistress Cissa,” the elf said.  “Flopsy not being caught either- nobody except mistresses and their friends be expecting elves to be smart enough to do such things.”

    “We’d like to come by it honestly,” Narcissa laughed as she wiped a crumb off of Flopsy’s apron (Pansy and the others in SPEW had slowly been convincing the Malfoy elves that accepting clothing and pay would not make them bad elves).  “But we’ll keep your suggestion in mind should things start to go downhill.”

    “Flopsy be thanking mistresses, but Flopsy must go now- Flopsy be letting Dobby make her a new dress and must go make sure he not be adding too many sparkles.”  She popped away without waiting for permission, well aware by now that she didn’t need it.

    “Do you think we’ve made his sequin budget too large?” Aralynn asked her wife.  “I know we said he could design the uniforms for everyone, but maybe we should have set more parameters.”

    “Eh, two lesbians with a son as gay as the day is long- no sense trying to tone it down,” Narcissa waved her hand impassively.

    “Good point,” the brunette agreed, mouth full of Flopsy’s excellent pastrami.  “So what’re we gonna do about the polls?”

    “First, you’re gonna close your mouth when you chew- I’m not married to an animal.”

    “You are in the bedroom,” Ara winked at her, and Narcissa snorted delicately.

    “I don’t want to see your half-eaten food no matter what you are, darling- and I was thinking we perhaps do a bit of digging on Scrimgeour- see if he’s really as straight-laced as he claims.”

    “Oh, good thinking- maybe we’ll find a sex scandal or something.”

    “Dearest, we live in an archaic, conservative, British society- there is no worse sex scandal than being a lesbian,” Narcissa laughed a little, sliding her hand up Ara’s leg.

    “Oh- so we just hope he murdered someone or something?”  Ara’s fingers were already working the clasp on Narcissa’s bra.

    “We’ll start with seeing how close he was to Fudge- he’s been working in the ministry for years, and he wasn’t vocal against the man’s policies like Amelia.  If we’re lucky, we might even connect him to the toad- whether people believe Harry or not, everyone can agree that you can’t do that to a child.”  Dress around her ankles, she shoved Ara so she was lying against the desk, newspapers scattering to the floor.

    “Mmm, talk Slytherin to me more,” Aralynn’s converse were magically removed by the blonde as long tan legs wrapped around the paler woman’s waist, fingers moving up to tangle in Cissa’s perfect topknot.

    Shhh, no time for talking, mentally or not, her wife told her through the bond.   Now we’re animals.

[Cygnus gives a lecture to his students at the UCL, who are enraptured not only with his Canadian accent (he was born and raised in Ontario) but his unique ideas as well, and Cyg is delighted to have finally found a job where people appreciate him.]

    “Mama, stop, enough warming charms,” Harry protested, waving off her and Sev as they layered him with protections so he could go see the mermaids.

    “I don’t know, dear- it’s rather cold out today- maybe we should wait…” Minerva hesitated, as Sev nodded his head in agreement.

    “ Mam, Uncle Sev- c’mon, it’s the beginning of November, so it’s only gonna get colder, and we need to introduce you all to the mermaids so they know who their allies are.”  The last time Harry had swum with them, they’d promised their allegiance in the coming war, and asked Harry to bring down those who he trusted most, so they would know whom to take orders from in the event it was needed.

    “He has a point,” Julian agreed, while Harry tried to calm Draco’s frantic mental worries about whether the special latex-free wetsuit Dobby had made him was warm enough.

    “You be quiet,” Severus told his soulmate crankily.

    “You fill my head with snark all day, hypocrite, so I shall keep talking,” Julian rolled his eyes as he chuckled.

    “Can you please have this argument later- I want to get down there before too much later.  The only reason I even got the day off today was because I told the goblins I was on an errand for Harry,” Bill cut in.

    “We’re still waiting for my mums,” Draco informed him, as the two women finally came running down to the shore, hair mussed and breathing heavy.

    “Sorry- we got caught up in the campaign,” Narcissa apologized.

    “The campaign, sure - I know that freshly-fucked look- spend half my life that way,” Sirius told his cousin, who smacked him.

    “Could you at least have the discretion that Uncle Reg and Uncle Cyg show,” Harry asked them, making a face.  “I don’t wanna be reminded of the things I’ve walked in on.” Behind him, Cygnus beamed at the familiar term, as did Regulus.

    “Sorry kiddo- let’s go see your fish friends,” his godfather appeased, while Hermione launched into a complicated explanation of the anatomical differences between mermaids and other, simpler aquatic species.  

    “I’m getting smarter involuntarily, with that in my head all the time,” Ron groaned, jabbing a thumb at the lecturing Gryffindor.

    “And who did better on their last transfiguration quiz because they couldn’t help but study while I was reviewing in my head beforehand?” Hermione teased him, as Ron rolled his eyes at her.

    “Whatever- I’m just glad we’re finally good enough at occlumency to keep each other out for an hour or so at a time, or else you’d be in a frenzy about ‘accidentally cheating’ or something.”

    “You’re such a prat,” she socked him on the arm.

    “Hey- no news to me, but you must like something about it, since we’re destined to be together or whatnot.”

    “Just be glad you don’t have Pansy in your head- all the ‘hypothetical’ murder plans would drive you over the edge even more than my runic translations,” the black girl told him.

    “It’s true- I do plan a lot of murders,” Pansy nodded in agreement.  

    “Would you guys get a move on?!” Draco, already up to his waist in the lake, because he’d followed an eager Harry, along with Fleur, who worriedly hovered around her honorary little brother, called out to the rest of the group.

    “My word- look at that magnificent cephalopod- and in such shallow water!” Cygnus exclaimed as the giant squid, hearing their little friend come into the lake, came up to give Harry a hug with one of their many tentacles.

    “Oh yeah- this is Squishy,” Harry told them.  “They’re cool- a little cuddly, though.”

    “My word- what a perfect specimen,” Cygnus breathed, his scientific curiosity coming to the forefront.

    “If you’re this excited about a creature that muggles know about, wait until you see the selkies,” Regulus told him, kissing his cheek.

    “How many subspecies of mer are there?” Dean asked, while they were on the subject.

    “There’s selkies and sirens as the main two categories, although they both come in many varieties- selkies can live in both salt and freshwater, whereas sirens have to have salinity to survive,” Harry explained, having learned a lot from his mer friend.  “And some siren colonies are more playful, whereas others are violent predators who won’t hesitate to sing down a ship and tear apart its members with their bare hands. Arctic sirens, who are more mammalian and tend to be more closely descended from orcas than fish, are especially likely to eat first and ask questions later.  The friendliest sirens have little seahorse tails and have been known to get playful with any visiting creatures. Mermaids are viewed as being half-fish, half-human, but there’s a lot more special variety than there is amongst Homo sapiens.”

    “Amazing,” Cygnus had taken out a sharpie and was rapidly scribbling notes on the only surface he had available- Regulus’ bare chest.

    “But they all speak the same language?” Pansy raised an eyebrow.

    “Yeah- that’s a bit of a contradiction, there.  There are regional dialects, of course, but the basics are universal so that any mer can seek asylum with another- no matter how violent towards other species, the mer view kinship ties, even those as genetically different as orcas and seahorses, to be of the utmost importance,” Harry said.  “The village chief here told me that the mermaid I saved last year was actually the selkie queen Cecilia, so that none of their species would hurt me or my friends even if they would normally tear a human limb from limb and eat their organs without a second thought.”

    “Cheerful,” Neville was looking a little green.  During the course of this conversation, they’d all been bubble-headed and had descended with squishy towards the village, where a tall mermaid and her little daughter were waiting to direct Harry and his friends to the main square.  The adult bowed, while the little daughter merely chattered eagerly at Harry, who screeched something back that none of the rest of them understood before the girl turned to the rest of them.

    “This my nose,” she informed them seriously in English, pointing to her tailfin.  

    “So all of these are the people you consider kin?” The chief asked, once they reached the square.

    “Yes,” Harry promised him.  “This one,” he pointed to Julian, “may be seen with the enemy, but he’s with us.”

    “Then why would he be with them?” The chief looked at Harry curiously, trusting his judgement, but unsure of this particular human custom.

    “It’s… I don’t think there’s a word for it in mermish…” Harry screeched and clattered, having a fair ability with the language by this point (Lily had always been linguistically gifted, something, along with his potions skill, that Harry had inherited from her).  “It’s like… sometimes, with human war, we send someone to pretend to be working for the other side, so they can find information that can help us and bring it back.”

    “Whatever happened to the time-honoured tradition of stabbing each other until one was declared a winner?” The chief asked, rubbing his chin.

    “There’s a few too many of us for us to be that simple anymore,” Harry said, “and the mer don’t wage war with each other, so it probably seems strange to you.”

    “Killing one’s kin is considered a taboo, unless they have done a terrible thing that would warrant execution, in which case the whole society is against them, such as this Voldemort man of yours.”

    “Unfortunately, he has many followers,” Harry screeched back.  “So we’ve had to turn against our own species.”

    “Our largest group of criminals in history was a group of ten, a family driven mad by oil inhalation from the human boats that lost their sanity and attacked their village, their minds clouded by the putrid fumes.  They were executed quickly and mercifully, to bring their misery to an end as quickly as possible.”

    “Humans mess up a lot, huh?” Harry agreed.

    “You are different, youngling, and this is good- this is why we help you defend your people,” the chief told him solemnly.  “You were made to bring your kin together, to end this violence. You do not know this yet, but you will.” Harry was used to the somewhat cryptic speech of his creature friends, so he merely nodded- he had no idea why they believed him so special, but he didn’t want to argue- they refused to believe otherwise, no matter how much he told them he was just a kid who got lucky when Voldemort attacked him.  But unbeknownst to him, they weren’t talking about his confrontations with Voldemort- they were talking about his character, and his strength...

Chapter Text

“I’m still not entirely sure why you want me to take you to this thing today,” Severus grumbled as he took Harry to Hogsmeade for his weekly session with Sarah- they’d been postponed for a while, what with Harry being ill, then Umbridge, and Harry being ill again, then the insanity of Halloween.  Sarah had also been getting herself settled in in Britain, and between that and her work with the auror department, plus her new relationship- well, things hadn’t stopped moving for a minute.  Now, two weeks into November, things felt like they were settling down, at least for the moment, and Harry and his friends were going to take advantage of it for as long as it lasted.

“I thought you could, I don’t know- see how it worked, or something…” Harry trailed off, kicking a pebble and watching it roll down the hill, looking intently at the tattoo on his wrist and hand as he picked at a loose thread on his jumper.

“Your mother put you up to this, didn’t she?” Severus looked at his nephew suspiciously.

“Which one?” Harry deflected.

Severus was not impressed with this tactic.  “The living one,” he sighed, put-upon.

“No, I just wanted you to get some fresh air…” Harry was really a terrible liar- he’d never quite managed to get the technique down, and he often wondered if he might have fewer scars if he’d been better at it in the Dursley household (he wouldn’t have; they were monsters and nothing he could have done would have made them any less awful towards him).

“You wanted to get me on that couch so Sarah could work some of her psychobabble on me,” he asserted, as Julian mentally told him not to be so negative.   Fat chance of that happening .

“Mama told me to,” Harry told the professor honestly.  “I told her you were a lost cause,” he snorted, cracking a smile.

“Why, you little…” Severus said, reaching to ruffle Harry’s hair, but the teen doged and picked up speed, taking deep breaths of the cool, crisp air as Severus groaned and chased after him.  By the time they reached the village, they were both panting.

“Wow,” Harry laughed between gasps, “if you can’t even keep up with me and my ‘underdeveloped lungs and stunted growth potential,’ to quote Aunt Poppy, maybe that’s a sign you ought to drop the Pop-Tarts and start hitting the gym.”

“Shut up,” Severus grunted, clutching his side, “we don’t even have a gym.”

“Room of requirement,” Harry pointed out, conjuring a glass of water and filling it with an augmenti charm before drinking deeply.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Severus said.  “I’m too old for this nonsense.’

“You’re thirty-six- that’s like, still really young,” Harry pointed out.

“You really are quite impossible.”

“Must be why we get along so well,” Harry teased, knocking on the door to the office.  When there was no immediate answer, he just went ahead and pushed the door open- Sarah sometimes had her headphones in between appointments and wouldn’t mind.

“Nymphadora Tonks- you stop making fun of my decorating choices,” the therapist’s voice was saying to the empty waiting room as she hung a picture of a flower on the wall, high-heeled boots balanced precariously on a step-ladder.

“None of you seem to have gotten that you can communicate silently,” Harry laughed.  “People might think you’re talking to yourself.”

“Hang on a second, Harry- I’ve got a crazy woman telling me not to call her Nymphadora.”  She scrunched her face in concentration for a moment before her expression relaxed. “Alright, all is quiet- for the moment,” she chuckled.  “And sometimes talking to myself is the only way to get decent conversation around here,” she finished, as her indignant girlfriends scoffed outside her occlumency walls.

“One of those days, huh?” Harry snickered, rather glad that he only had one other crazy person in his head (because well, they were all crazy…)

Hey, I resent that , Draco grumbled.

No you don’t , Harry internally rolled his eyes.   Now go back to your book- you don’t need to hear all this.

I know it’s worse than you let on, Draco told him seriously, as Harry felt, in that odd not-quite-tangible-but-still-oddly-tangible manner that the bond created, the sensation of a book being placed aside on a table.   And I know you have scars you glamour whenever you’re topless around me.  You don’t have to tell me everything now, but you can’t protect me forever.  I’ll have to see sometime, and you’ll have to face the fact that you don’t owe it to anyone to keep all your secrets for our sakes.

It’s just… babe, this… how does it help anyone, you knowing things that will only hurt you?  Harry sent back through the sensation of squeezing the blonde’s hand, and Draco sighed.

It’s a burden we share, this being in love thing.  And when it’s time for me to see all of you, physically and mentally, I promise I won’t love you any less.

I know , Harry reassured him.   Soon, but not right now.

Okay, Draco agreed, nodding as Harry felt him pick up his book again.   Then I’ll bow out- you already have to deal with Sev right now, after all.

Yeah, Harry cracked a smile, looking up to find both adults looking at him, waiting patiently for him to finish whatever discussion he was having with Draco.

“You done?” Sarah asked.  “You’re my last appointment for the day, so there’s no hurry if you need to work something out.”

“No, we got it,” Harry assured her, lip quirking upward.  “It’s really a good thing we’ve got going.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Severus groused, as Julian just laughed.

“You just need to learn to be a little better at sharing,” Harry informed him, following Sarah into her freshly painted office.

“Oh, pastels,” he mused, looking around.  The walls were a lovely bright blue colour, with the couch a soft purple, covered in blue and pink fuzzy pillows.  A yellow bean bag chair sat in the corner under a sunlamp, and the teen plopped down into it, curling up with his knees to his chest and pulling a throw blanket covered in positive affirmations over his lap.

“It’s so gloomy here all the time; I didn’t think the whole ‘browns and tans’ theme I had in New York would fit as well here.  You cold?” she asked her patient, going over to turn the heat on higher.

“Always,” Harry laughed, as Severus pulled an extra jumper out of the utility belt hidden under his robes (okay, so he kept it- it was damn useful).  Harry accepted it gratefully, pulling it on over the other two he was already wearing.

“So, what feels most present with you today?” Sarah asked him, pointing her wand at the kettle on the bunsen burner to set it boiling as she put a few cardamom seeds at the bottom of a mug with a tablespoon of honey- it was Harry’s favourite way to take tea, for which Poppy was grateful, the Middle Eastern spice being good for aiding respiratory and digestion issues, both of which Harry often suffered from.

“Sometimes I feel like the professors give me too much of a break,” Harry sighed, taking the cup that Sarah handed him.  “Like, even though I spend so much time in the hospital wing and Aunt Poppy doesn’t usually let me have my books and stuff, I don’t really spend much more time on homework than the rest of my friends- I should be doing more makeup work or something, it seems.  And I guess it’s nice that I’m not struggling to catch up and stuff, but sometimes it feels like pity.”

“What makes you say that?” Severus looked at him in surprise.

“Well, I mean- I missed most of the first month of school, but I felt like I still had a lot of free time after classes once I got out- like, as much as Hermione and Pansy, maybe not as much as like, Ron or something, because he kinda does the bare minimum when it comes to book work, which is not a bad thing, but still, I should have been struggling to catch up…”

“Harry, we give you a break because you spend so much time studying independently in the summers, and your mother is a professor- we haven’t done anything that would hurt your chances on the OWLs, or reduce the quality of your education.  We just work around your extenuating circumstances,” the potions professor told him.

“Alright, so if you’re gonna do my job now, I’ll just go grab a coffee…” Sarah teased, smiling at the two.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Severus Snape wasn’t known for apologising, even now, but he was a different man than he’d been four years ago, and he respected Sarah as a colleague and for helping Harry.

“No, it’s good- it’s nice to see you so active in Harry’s therapy.  You haven’t really sat in since the first summer I worked with him, and I was wondering if maybe you’d been scared off by all the heavy stuff we dealt with.”

“I don’t get scared off ,” the man scoffed, but he acknowledged inside his head that she did have a point… It was cowardly, but Harry was so cheerful most of the time- he didn’t like to be reminded of the burden the teenager carried underneath it all.

See, now we’re getting somewhere.   Damn … Severus had forgotten he had someone in his head now that heard all those innermost confessions.

Harry finished off his tea and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his top jumper, politely ignoring Severus’ clear inner struggle.  It was really a very comfortable office, and so much warmer than Hogwarts…

“Oh dear,” Sarah said a moment later, looking over to where Harry’s eyes had drifted shut and his head had lolled to the side.  “It seems that I sometimes make my patients too relaxed.  Ah well, he could use the rest.  Let’s talk about you.”

Severus gave her a dirty look.  “The heat, the tea, the sweaters… you planned this, you and that wily old cat.   Harry wasn’t the patient here today, was he?”

“Well, he was at first- but you already took care of his most persistent worry at the moment.  And may I remind you that you gave him all the sweaters… Anyway, tell me about your childhood…”

Severus sat on the couch with a sigh.  He was surrounded by emotionally intelligent women- they’d made a plan, and he’d followed a sleepy little green-eyed kitten right into a trap.

[Sarah gets three complete sentences out of Severus about his early upbringing and considers it a success as she wrangles the man into making another appointment.]

“Line up, troops!” Pansy ordered the Friday section of the TDT, about 100 students from first to third year, as they gathered for their weekly session (there were so many students involved that each individual member only came once a week, and the sections were arranged roughly by skill level.  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays saw various groups of students from first to fourth year, and Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday were the more advanced fourth-year students (they had received a special recommendation from Remus for advanced group) along with fifth, sixth, and seventh years. Some of the upper years were initially skeptical about receiving most of their magic training from a pipsqueak of a fifth-year, but watching him wandlessly blast a brick wall the room had provided into smithereens and dust quelled any objections that might have come up).

The somewhat-undisciplined but eager and earnest 11 to 13-year olds formed said line as quickly as they could, and Pansy checked her stopwatch- thirty seconds- they were making some significant improvement.

“Alright, today will be a mostly magical lesson, so just three laps around the room and a hundred sit-ups and we’ll call it a day on the physical stuff.”  No one dared groaned- they already knew that this was considered a break by Pansy standards, and that any complaints would get them more exercise and less time getting Harry to teach them how to blow stuff up (and other useful skills, none of which interested them as much as making things go boom) .  

It took about half an hour for them to finish a workout that took the upper years ten minutes, but they were still wee little babs, so Pansy heeded Mia’s voice in her head and told them they did well, even if she could have done the same thing in five minutes by the time she was their age.

“Alright, today we’re gonna be doing expelliarmus,” Harry informed the group.  “This is a disarming charm, which may not sound that exciting, but if their weapon is not in their hands, then it’s not pointed at you.”

“My sister’s in sixth year, and she said you guys taught them to do the leg-locker curse,” a second-year Gryffindor boy shouted out from the back.

“We did- but that’s a harder curse, and it can go badly if you don’t have the discipline to cast it.  My godfather told me that he tried to use it before he was ready and Professor Lupin was limping for two days when they practiced it first year, so don’t be in any rush to go learning the fancy stuff,” Harry informed him, gently but firmly.  “You have to learn the defensive spells first, which, in addition to being more useful for keeping you alive and giving you a chance to escape- which would be your goal at this point- are easier to cast technically and give you a good foundation that you can build on.”

“So when do we get to the fun stuff?” another kid asked.  They felt more comfortable asking Harry such questions, as he would answer them and not just give them four more laps for insubordination like Pansy would.

“All magic is fun if you put your heart into it,” Harry said.  “But to answer that- whenever you’re ready. First you have to learn expelliarmus, which, I will point out, saved my life with Voldemort.” some of the youngsters still flinched at the name, but Harry felt it was important to desensitize them to that fear, since even those who wouldn’t be directly involved in the coming war were likely to face worse than just hearing a lame French moniker.  “In that duel, I used a lot of spells, many of which would have gotten me expelled if I’d used them on another student instead of an evil wizard- which I wouldn’t, of course- but the point is that sometimes the simplest solution is the best, and you should always start with that. That said, even this spell can be dangerous if you put too much power into it or do it incorrectly, so never point it at another person unless you plan to disarm them, and don’t even practice disarming other people until you’ve gotten it down with the dummies first.”

The room, well used to interpreting the needs of the group by now, conjured a number of dummies carrying wand-like sticks, and Harry called up the first group.  A few of the younger girls giggled and swooned when Harry came up to adjust their grip, but he politely pretended not to notice as Draco’s cry of mine mine mine filled his head.

Soon spellfire was flying, as eleven-year-old boys do not have great aim, as their mothers or whoever cleans their bathrooms will surely tell you, but Harry had a shield charm up (at the insistence of Draco) as he wandered amongst his students, offering helpful bits of advice.  Normally this was a spell that the third years would have learned by this point, but fake-Moody hadn’t exactly been the best at providing them with the basics, focusing more on jinxes and curses, another reason Harry and the others were all the more determined to give them a solid basis in defensive spells.  Once a student got the spell down well, Harry had them offer help to their peers, and by the end of the lesson, he concluded that probably another session of practicing on the dummies would be necessary before they could move on to trying it on each other. He had a quill floating behind him, tracking each student’s progress, but he made sure to find some positive comment to make to each of them so that his clipboard wouldn’t make them feel nervous or judged.

Hermione watched her best friend as offered kind words to a frustrated second-year Ravenclaw, marvelling at his ability to make everyone feel comfortable without giving them an inflated sense of their abilities, and of his aptitude for relating to each child and their individual needs.  She had always been highly intelligent, and her brain functioned in a complex, structured pattern that she sometimes found it hard to escape, but Harry seemed to know how to adapt his methods to suit different learning styles, even those very different from his own. She took out a pen and her ideas to get to eventually notebook, chewing on a curl that had fallen loose from her braid as she jotted down have Harry teach a seminar on teaching .  She wanted to be able to expand their instructor base for TDT, and if anyone could teach things that were supposedly innate, it would be him.

Chapter Text

The first Friday in December, the students had the day off so the teachers could check the wards on the school, and Harry knew what he wanted to do with the long weekend.  He’d already arranged it with Minerva and Sarah, and now all he had to do was make sure that Draco was okay with it. That, and wait for a package from the family vault in Gringotts, which came Thursday evening.  He’d kept this information in the part of his mind that he occluded from Draco, a part that, if this weekend went well, would no longer exist come Monday. His boyfriend had opened his mind completely to Harry weeks ago, and it was this that gave him the confidence he needed to do the same- none of the things he’d seen in Draco’s mind had made Harry love him any less, and even though he hated the way Lucius had abused his son (mostly emotionally and psychologically, although there had been some instances of physical maltreatment), it didn’t affect the way Harry looked at his boyfriend.  He would have to trust that it would be the same the other way around.

Harry, in his bedroom in Minerva’s quarters, opened the box from Gringotts.  On top was a letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received and honoured your request to collect a ring from your vaults- and first, may we say, we of the goblin greatly nation appreciate your trust in us for a matter of such emotional significance.  We have done some research into this muggle concept of a ‘promise ring’ and, due to the symbolic importance of such an object, put in our very best efforts to only choose such items as would fit the criteria for such a personal commitment.  Immediately excluded any of the engagement rings of your ancestors, as it is our understanding that a promise ring is given by young couples for whom it is not yet the time for engagement. We searched for such a ring, however, we could not find one that we felt was befitting of such a friend of the goblin nation, therefore, we have taken the liberty of crafting one that we hope will suit your purposes.  While you may not be aware of this, your mother had a small vault of her own with us before she married your father. It is mainly just savings from various summer jobs, the muggle currency of which she converted into galleons. However, also included was an old emerald ring, the stone of which has come loose over time and the band of which had cracked. While we planned to fix it, we instead decided that it would be better repurposed- in the included box, you will find the ring we have crafted, made of goblin-mined silver, of the purest quality, except for the inlaid pattern of the little snake, for which we melted down the old silver from your mother’s ring.  The emerald we cut into two to make the eyes of the snake, to match both the eyes of you and your mother. We do understand that this was an unrequested creation, and therefore will not be offended if you are unsatisfied- send the instructions for what you would like back with the ring and we will make something better.  Consider this a gift, and may your gold ever flow and your enemies bow before you,

Griphook- Account Manager

Ragnok- Gringotts branch manager

Gladdock- Goblin Queen

Harry’s eyes nearly boggled out of his head as he read the letter- what had he even done to make them like him so much?!  Looking at the ring, he nearly cried- it was perfect, with the pattern of a silver snake set on a slightly lighter and purer goblin silver, the emeralds for the eyes of the serpent clearly inlaid with extreme care.  He wanted to rush to offer the ring to Draco- but first, he had to write a heartfelt thank you letter.

[The goblins are both touched and amused by Harry’s charming thank you note, and a copy is made for Griphook and Ragnok, while the queen frames the original and gives it pride of place on the wall in her private study.]

“Dray?” Harry knocked tentatively on the door of the Slytherin dorms, and Blaise got up to open it.

“We’ll just give you guys a minute,” he said, calling the others out.

“Hang on,” Crabbe grunted- “Divination homework is tough.”

“Oh, Ron said you can just write anything down for that and she’ll give you credit,” Harry informed him and Goyle, struggling over the same assignment.  Both of them looked at the darker teen like they could kiss him, and Draco jealously pulled him closer.

“Thanks,” Goyle rumbled- “we’ve been trying for hours, even sharing thoughts through our bond, but we got nothin’.  C’mon Vin- should we die in a fire or win the lottery?”

“Why don’t we fly out of the fire on a broomstick and then win the lottery?” Vincent Crabbe asked.

“Could you two idiots please use the bond to talk so we don’t have to listen to you?” Theo threw a pillow at them.

“Don’t listen to him,” Draco patted his old goons on the shoulder as they left the room, “he’s still mad that Hufflepuff girl he was in love with is soulmates with someone else.”

“And I’m soulmates with a Gryffindor- a Gryffindor! - that I’ve met exactly once , when they ran into me in the hallway my second year,” Theodore Nott complained.

“Could you whinge about it out there?” Draco asked, and Theo finally got the hint and left with the others.  Then the blonde turned to Harry.

“What did you want to ask me, luv, and why can’t it be said through the bond?”  Harry chewed his lip, slightly nervously, his fingers running over the ring in his pocket.

“Um, so I wanted to, er, I think it’s time that I… stopped occluding, that is, if you still wanna know everything?” he stammered eventually.

“Really, babe- I’d love that!   If you’re sure you’re ready- there’s no pressure to do it right now,” Draco quickly assured him.

“Er, it’s kind of a lot to take in, so I was thinking we’d do it slowly?  In Sarah’s office- I already got the approval from mama, and she and Uncle Sev would take turns being in the room with us as well, for moral support, and we’d spend the nights in Sarah’s guest room, so we could just kinda focus on each other and stuff and not have to deal with all the noise and all that in the castle.”

“That- I’ll do it however you wanna do it,” Draco agreed.  “I’m just glad that you trust me enough to do this- I know that those memories are painful for you.”

“I’ve always trusted you enough,” Harry asserted, taking both of Draco’s hands in his own, both of them looking too serious, having seen too much, for the casual observer to believe they were only fifteen.  “I just didn’t want to hurt you with this- but I need to let you share the pain and the joy, if that’s what you want, and it’s not right of me to say I know what’s best for you and ignore what you have to say.”

“They’re your memories, Harry, so what you choose to do with them isn’t my choice to make, but I’m glad you want to allow me the privilege of sharing this burden with you,” Draco told him sincerely, and Harry’s fingers broke away from his to wipe away a tear making its way down his cheek.

“Oh, and I have one more thing, y’know, since we’re making commitments and stuff…” Harry trailed off, pulling the ring out of his pocket and offering it to Draco with a shy smile.  “Since Sev took the one I got you at the spy museum and all. I mean, I still sleep with the cat every night, so you should have something too.”

“Merlin’s balls, Harry- this is beautiful!  And a lot more than a stuffed cat…”

“It’s okay, really- I mean, we’re soulmates and everything, so it’s no secret we’re gonna be together for the rest of our lives and stuff.  And I wanted you to have something that you could touch and look at and stuff, so you’d have a physical way to like, mark the occasion, I guess…”

He didn’t get to say more, because Draco shoved him on the bed and kissed him.

[Dobby has messed with the ringtone on Kreacher’s cell phone, and now the poor elf can’t figure out how to switch it back from the Spice Girls Wannabe - and Sirius finds it far too amusing.]

“So, there’s a reason I wanted to do this in three days instead of all at once,” Harry told his boyfriend in Sarah’s office the next day (Severus had been pushed by Minerva to sit in first, so he could, quote “see what healthy emotional communication looks like.”), “and if it gets too much and you need me to stop, just let me know.”

Draco, both nervous and excited for this huge step in their relationship, shook his head firmly.  “No,” he asserted. “If you can make it through living it, I can make it through seeing it.  And I’m not exactly a stranger to this kind of thing either, even if my situation wasn’t as bad as yours.”

“I know you’re tough, Draco- but you’re allowed to be weak with me, if you want to,” Harry spoke into his chest as they sat on the couch together.

“I’ll remember that later, when you’re comforting me when I should be comforting you about all this,” Draco gave a watered-down chuckle as he took a deep breath in, standing under the tree in Harry’s mind, waiting for him to free up the lower branches for him to climb.

“I’ve done this in three stages, one for each day,” Harry said.  “The first one isn’t so bad- well, it is, because they shouldn’t have done that to me,” he corrected himself, and Sarah nodded at him proudly.  “But it’s not as terrible as the stuff in the next two stages.”

“Okay,” Draco steeled himself, “I’m ready.”

The next few hours were very difficult for Draco, and thus difficult for Harry, who didn’t like seeing Draco suffer.  He could feel Draco’s pain as he slowly let him in on memories of cruel words (“worthless- freak- can’t do anything right, can you?”), cold, the less lengthy periods of hunger.  But he respected Draco’s wishes and didn’t stop, and he sent him feelings of comfort, let him feel how happy he was now, how much he loved him, mixed in memories of all the wonderful things they’d done together, how happy they were- this was the past, this was temporary.  It felt new to Draco, but it wasn’t happening now, it was just a memory, just the past, shhh, darling, I love you, feel that?  How happy I am with you, with my family? How I’m healing, how much I’ve already healed?  Shhh, luv, don’t get lost in it, just take my hand; I’ll take you through.

Sarah called a stop for lunch and tea around noon, and a stop for the day around six.  She showed Harry and Draco to the guest room in her little cottage/office after they ate fish and chips that Rosy brought over, and Sev left without having any, looking pensive and rather glum- they shouldn’t have to be this strong, these kids.  But they were.

“I expect you’ll behave yourselves?” Sarah teased, as she set fresh towels on the one queen-sized bed in the dressing room.

“Of course!” Harry gasped, affronted, trying to lighten the mood a bit, as if he couldn’t believe she, an educated professional with insight into the teen psyche, had asked two secondary-school-aged kids enamoured with each other a valid question (even if they hadn’t done more than a bit of fooling around, they were at that age, and it would of course happen eventually, something none of the adults had any interest in stopping- they were well-educated and knew what they were doing, and the soulmate bond only further cemented this idea.  Besides, they’d been having cuddle sleepovers since they were twelve, and Minnie, Narcissa, and Aralynn had no desire to take that away from them, which would punish them for essentially getting older and developing hormones- and they were tired of their children getting punished for things beyond their control).

“Alright then- but I’ll still just let off little bang with my wand at the end of the hallway so you can collect yourselves by the time I get to the point of knocking on the door,” she told them with a smile as she closed the door, even though they all knew that neither Harry nor Draco were in the mood to do anything but hold each other for comfort.

“Do you wanna shower first, or should I?” Harry asked eventually.

“Just...just a minute,” the blonde told him, pulling the shorter teen more tightly against his chest.  “I just wanna hold you for a bit, so I know you’re really here.”

The next day was both more and less difficult- less difficult because Draco knew somewhat what to expect, and more difficult because even that didn’t encompass it.  He didn’t want to imagine his love living in a world where waking up under the stairs, being told he should have died with his parents, having a frying pan thrown at his head because he wasn’t washing dishes fast enough, and then getting the shite beat out of him in the schoolyard by his awful cousin and his friends was a pretty average day, where he went to bed under the same stairs thinking ‘well, it could have been worse.’  Harry held him that night, sending him love and support but letting him process his feelings naturally as he cried himself to sleep.

Draco wasn’t a practitioner of Christianity, but Sunday was the last of three days of having his heart pummelled to bits and left out to die, and he was hoping to rise out of it feeling like he’d gained a new sense of peace and emotional resurrection.  But first he had a war to fight, and he honestly thought the one with Voldemort was easier to think about than coming out of Harry’s mind a veteran in emotional turmoil and with a vastly expanded education on the depths of human depravity. He wanted the energy to be angry, but he was just sad- it was like a weight, these memories, and he understand why Harry had kept them from him.

Need to stop? His boyfriend asked, a steady presence at his side, bravely facing his own memories and putting whatever feelings they brought him aside for Draco’s sake.

No, we’re so close .  Harry, despite wanting to hold his dragon, to protect him, honoured his wishes.  

We’re almost done, he promised.   Then there will be no secrets.  

(Graphic violence ahead)

Ten years of memories in three days- it was, there’s really no way to describe it, the way time works in one’s memories.  There’s no chronological order, and even though one finds oneself inundated with many memories at once, like a tsunami tide of human experience, each one stands out in sharp relief, explicit detail, and time seems to speed up and slow down all at once.  Which is why the last memory Draco saw was one when Harry was seven. It wasn’t the worst memory Harry had (although it was one of them), and that alone made it sad, because it was worse than any child should have to face even if it were just an isolated incidence, a strange freak accident in an otherwise happy life.  But it wasn’t an accident and it wasn’t part of a happy life, leaving a child locked in a cupboard under the stairs for a week with only a loaf of bread and a gallon of water, a bucket in the corner and a deadbolt on the outside of the cupboard door. As to why they didn’t just wait until Mrs. Figg was available to babysit, or reschedule their vacation, or even take Harry with them, the only explanation that Draco could come up with was the woefully inadequate and previously known one, that they were monsters.

It was day six, and Harry was starving, and he was sick - he’d caught a cold that had been going around the schoolyard, and it had worsened to a flu.  He’d rationed the bread as long as he could, and the water, but there was no more- he’d run out of both yesterday.   How he’d managed to do accidental magic in that state was a mystery, a miracle maybe, but probably just chalked up to the fact that Harry was extraordinarily powerful combined with what Minnie might call sheer dumb luck.  And if things had gone to plan, it would have been.

The deadbolt, which Harry had tried pounding at, tried sliding an old hairpin he’d found in the cupboard through to loosen it, tried everything without success, suddenly gave way, and Harry tiptoed out, into the kitchen.  He knew how to take just enough food to keep him going, just enough not to be noticed, and to cover his tracks, and he was about to take his pitiful little feast back to his cupboard when the Dursleys came back a day early.  Vernon’s face had purpled, his mustache quivering, and Petunia had screeched. Harry’d dropped the food in his surprise, in his terror. Stealing food was bad enough by the Dursleys standards, but one look at Vernon’s expression as the monster took in the loose bolt, made to hold rabid dogs in their cages and withstand hundreds of pounds of pressure perfectly unlocked from the outside, and Harry knew that he’d done something his uncle considered freaky.   Quaking with hunger, thirst, exhaustion, illness, and fear, he wished that his relatives had gone anywhere but Pamplona, and that his uncle wasn’t the type that thought genuine rawhide bullwhips made good souvenirs.  It was brutal- and centuries of exploitation flashed through Draco’s mind as he watched Vernon abuse his power, beating sick little Harry to a bloody pulp.  This is what Columbus did to the natives, this is what the ‘civilized, educated people’ did to children they’d taken from their homelands and forced across the sea- this was modern slavery by a modern man with an archaic mind, and Draco came out of Harry’s memories like a drowning man gasping for air as he vomited all over Sarah’s rug.

(You're good now- read on, duckies)

Shhh, Harry told him.   Breathe- in, out, in out, in out, feel my pulse- see how strong it is?  Put your hand on my chest- my breathing is normal, my heartbeat steady, there’s no blood anywhere.  It’s just a memory. Feel my love for you, feel how happy I am to have found you, let me take care of you now.  It’s over, it’s all over.  Come back in, darling- shhh, it’s okay, just come back in.  Feel that? That’s happiness, that’s love for you, love for our family, for our friends.  Those memories are back where they belong, just part of a larger picture, a picture that is full of happiness and love to match the sorrow.  Three years of your love fills more of me than those years- feel that? It’s warm, isn’t it? It’s lovely- joy and happiness. Let them hold you up like water for a boat.  You are a boat, you are an island, you are my island.

Sarah kept Minerva from stepping in- Harry had this under control, and it was healing him as well- bolstering someone he loved was bolstering him , it was just one more stitch in a wound that would heal further and further over a lifetime, until it was one day just a scar, something you gave a casual glance at once in a while but that didn’t bother you anymore.  Every time Harry loved and let himself be loved, the wounds that were still so real, even if they weren’t fresh, healed a little more, bothered him a little less. He needed this- he needed to do this for Draco as much as Draco needed to do this for him, and part of her job as a therapist was knowing when to step back.

It was funny how the same world can feel so different when it is in fact the self that has been profoundly changed, how we deflect the changes in ourselves out into the air we breathe.  Draco felt the warmth of the sun differently, the smell of the trees and the coming winter around him was new in its familiarity, and Harry’s hand in his own was the same he had always known, but he could feel the experience they had shared, the things they had learned, this new level of closeness they had achieved- he could feel it in the curve of Harry’s palm, the soft scraping of his callouses against Draco’s own skin.  He could feel it in each cell of his body and each brick of the castle, the tickling of three eager serpent tongues as he collapsed onto Harry’s bed.

“Can we have sssssome time alone, guysssss?” Harry asked his snakes, and they sensed the seriousness of the situation and didn’t protest as they slithered away to hunt the mice that were inevitably found in an old castle like this (the cats usually got to them first, but Du at least could fit in places cats couldn’t reach, and she could be persuaded to share her catch with the others on occasion).

“I’m glad we did that, hard as it was,” Draco sighed, pulling Harry to him.  “I feel closer to you than I ever have, and I didn’t even realise that I could .  But I think, if you’re ready, you have one more thing to show me?”

“Do you want to do this tonight?  We can wait, if you’d like- I’m okay either way,” Harry told him.

“We need to do it now,” Draco said.  “I can feel your anxiety- all weekend, you’ve been calm, or worried for me.  But you’re afraid now, and you need to know that no matter what, I won’t leave.  Take down the glamours, luv. Let your body rest; let me see you.”

Harry took the glamours down, and he took his shirt off.  He took his pants off, he slid his boxers up so Draco could see the scars on his legs, his back, his chest.  Draco felt his shame, and Harry felt a brief wave of horror- oh no, Draco was repulsed by him .

“Shh, no luv- not repulsed by you, never repulsed by you .  Repulsed by what was done to you, yes, my love, but not by you- you are beautiful.  Each of these,” he touched Harry’s collarbone, where a deep lash began in a curve, “is a part of you, a beautiful sign of your strength, and of everything you’ve survived to make it to me.  Feel how much I love you.” Like Harry had done for him, he let all his love flood to the forefront of his mind, rushing towards Harry, filling him up, leaving him with no doubt that whatever was to come, this was always a guarantee, and that nothing on earth could change it in the slightest.  If anything, it would deepen overtime, and their love would grow and age as their bodies did, but it would always be there, never worse, only better.  They stayed like that for hours as Draco ran his hands gently along every inch of Harry’s skin, let his lips murmur loving words into every last bit of scar tissue on his body.

That was the day Harry realised that you can be broken and whole at once, the way they cut a diamond and it comes out shattered from what it once was, its edges honed and chipped away into something it had never imagined.  With Draco, with his friends, with his family, Harry was becoming something he had never imagined.  But sometimes, it is the things beyond the reach of the imagination that drive us forward.  Draco drove Harry forward- he had no need to look back; he wouldn’t look back. Why would he look back, when his whole world was in front of him, stroking a scar on his chest, filling it with new meaning?

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Pansy came up into the boys dormitory, knocking on the door.  Neville was reading a book on herbology, while Blaise sat at the end of soulmate’s bed, writing in a journal.

“You know it’s not private when you’re dictating in your head?” Nev asked the other boy, who just gave him the finger.

“Maybe not from you, but I need to sort out my thoughts and no one else needs to hear them.”

“Wish Seamus and Dean had the same policy,” the other snorted as his and Blaise’s heads turned to the bed to the left, where the other couple was under the covers, the little moans sounds of their fooling around clearly audible.

“There is this thing called a silencing charm,” Harry added from his bed, cozily ensconced against Draco’s chest.  “You two should use it.”

“Mmmph,” was the only verbal response as Sean continued giving Dean a hickey on his neck.

“Aaaaannyway,” Pansy broke in, “I was just coming to let you know that Minnie is taking us all to Diagon Alley tomorrow to do our Christmas shopping, and she’s dragging Sevvy, because it’s fun to torture him.”

“Alright, we’ll be ready by eight,” Harry promised, smiling at the promise of a cranky, sarcastic Sev.

“Ew, no- ready by ten, losers,” the Slytherin wrinkled her upturned nose in the way that Mia and Millie thought was adorable.

“Alright then, I’ll just kick around waiting for you all to wake up, then…” Harry sighed.

“I guess I’ll do the same, since once your mind starts going, it wakes me up,” Draco complained.

“Hey- I deal with your very vivid and weird dreams because you absolutely have to have pumpkin juice before bed, so I think you got the better end of the deal- besides, now you can get up and watch the sunrise every morning- how beautiful is that?”

“Your face is prettier, and I can look at that anytime ,” Draco grumbled, running his fingers through Harry’s messy curls.

“You two are so disgustingly domestic when you ‘argue’,” Blaise grumbled, making finger quotations.

“We are the perfectly appropriate level of domestic,” Draco gasped, affronted.  “Right, Weasel?” Ron, who had been sleeping in his own bed, popped up, nearly knocking Viktor in the chin.

“Whassaoccurin’- negative cosine t- ‘Mionestopit!” he grumbled rubbing his eyes.  “I’m learning in my dreams now,” he groused.  “Every time I start in with a quidditch Dream with Viktor, there’s somethin’ popping up like math and stuff- like, what the bloody hell even is a 3D vector?”

“Beats the heck outta me,” Harry shrugged.  Draco cringed slightly at his phrasing, and Harry mentally apologised.

It’s okay, babe- just a little fresh is all- but don’t worry about it.  There was no reason for me to react that way, and I don’t want you having to watch everything you say because it might trigger something for me.  We’ll call it exposure therapy , Draco soothed.

Okay, but every time I say something that makes you sad, I’ll tell you how much I love you too, Harry promised.

You’re perfect, Draco was emanating affection for Harry as he gently kissed his collarbone.

[The Hogwarts and Malfoy house elves make use of their new salaries to run a lucrative underground gambling ring, bets for which are placed on the outcome of Dobby and Winky’s upcoming dance-off.]

“Form a line, you unruly hooligans,” Severus called out, as his students most certainly did not form a line.

“Haha- you have no authority,” Pansy singsonged

“Detention, Parkinson.”

“You actually think she’s gonna show up?” Harry giggled.

“If she doesn’t, she will receive more detentions,” Severus answered, although he was looking sternly at Pansy.

“Yeah, whatever,” she waved a scarred hand, unconcerned.

“So like, what do we do with soulmate gifts?” Seamus asked.  “I mean, Harry and Draco are the only ones that can occlude from each other for longer than a couple hours.”

“I suppose you’ll have to find a way to manage or just know what you’re getting each other, then,” Severus rolled his eyes at them- this was not part of his job description, and Minnie was only dragging him along to torture him, not to actually use him for problem-solving.  If asked, she would probably tease that he creates more problems than he solves.

You know her rather well, Julian chuckled.

Jealous? Severus quipped.

No, because she’s not the one in your head, is she?

Do shut up.

Again, not actually talking .

“Uncle Jules is slowly driving Uncle Sev insane,” Harry whispered to the group as Severus crossed his arms, brooding (pouting- he was pouting).  “You can tell they’re having a conversation, because he looks like someone just told him the first years are having double potions every day for the rest of the year.”

“Ooooh, Gladrags!  Let’s go shopping!” Pansy squealed, pulling her soulmates by the hand.

“I’ll go with them- get you that Kiss me; I’m Irish shirt you wanted,” Dean told Seamus.

“They’re gonna spend the entire day getting new clothes and then choose something last-minute for the rest of us, aren’t they?” Ginny sighed.

“‘Fraid so,” Ron agreed with his sister.  “Hermione’s already turning over the idea of telling the shop assistant that they should have robes with runic patterns on them, because she is so obsessed with school that she wants to wear it.”

“Well, I’m going to go to the hardware store,” Ginny cut her brother off before he could go on another long rant about Hermione’s textbook-tornado of a mind.  “I’m gonna add a rocket launcher to my pogo stick.”

“Can anything go right lately?!” Ron railed at the universe as Viktor comfortingly rubbed his shoulders.

[Harry doesn’t need to get a gift for Sev, because he’s knitted him the ‘Mama Bat’ jumper he threatened; however, he still gets him some nice powdered asphodel.]

Eventually, they’d all finished their shopping (Ginny’s bags made a lot of suspicious noises) before they stopped off at an empty building.

“Why are we here? ” Cedric asked.

“Oh,” Fred began.

“Dearest Ceddy,” George continued (and okay, it was a lot less creepy now that they knew about their twin bond),

“We know it’s Saturday,”

“And you’re stoned,”

“But do use your noggin- this is your and Harry’s investment at work- we’ve finally made enough with our mobile business to buy a shop- this prime real estate in Diagon Alley.”

“How do you think it’ll look in orange?” George asked finally, and Fred put his hand on his chin in a pensive position and pretended to think for a moment.

“Jolly good, that is- plus, it’ll greatly depreciate surrounding real estate- future renters, you’re welcome!”

“Oh Merlin,” Ron groaned.

“You need to be less negative, Ronniekins,” the twins said together, and Ron shared a glance with Hermione as they shared thoughts for a moment.

“In other news,” the girl said, “we agree on something- you’re both insane .”

“Why thank you,”

“Dear lady.”

“Hey, is this building safe to go into yet?” Neville asked suddenly, wringing his hands a little anxiously.

“Define safe ,” Fred said.

“Nothing falling on me or exploding fatally in my face.”

“Fatally- no, you’re fine.”

“Cool,” Neville accepted.  “Can I talk to you guys for a minute- inside?”

“Sure,” Harry spoke for the group.  “What’s wrong buddy?”

“Blaise, can you help me explain?” Neville turned to his soulmate (because Neville couldn’t have kept him in the dark about it- whether he wanted to or not was irrelevant).

“Sure Nev- I’ll do the rougher parts,” Blaise agreed, reaching out to gently squeeze Neville’s hand for a moment.

“So, you know about how Nev was raised by his grandma,” Blaise began.

“Yeah, of course,” Draco confirmed as the rest nodded.

“Well, his parents- they aren’t dead. They’re just, not able to take care of him, exactly…” the others looked a bit surprised but waited quietly for Blaise to continue.

“The night- the night Voldemort was defeated the first time, the rest of the death eaters went a little crazy.  Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband… Ru… Red- I don’t know, the one with the red reindeer name- it’s not important.  The point is that they tortured Neville’s parents because they wanted to know where the Potters were. When they heard them coming, Alice and Frank hid Neville in the cupboard under the stairs and warded it tightly so they wouldn’t find him.”

At cupboard under the stairs, Draco gasped a little and squeezed Harry’s hand almost painfully tightly.

Shhh, it’s okay; I love you, Harry reassured him.

“The Lestranges had been hoping to use Neville to make Alice and Frank talk- not that they knew anything about how Harry survived anyway, but the Lestranges thought they might- and when they couldn’t, they tortured the Longbottoms until they went insane.”  

“The curse can make you go insane?!” Draco gave a high-pitched yelp, pulling Harry even closer than he already was.  To think- he could have lost him…

“It can, yes,” Neville confirmed, not bothering to sugarcoat it- nobody had for him, after all.  “They were taken to Mungo’s, when they found them, but even though they managed to fix the nerve damage before it set in, they couldn’t fix their minds.  They’re in a special ward there, and my grandmother takes me to see them every Christmas, but since we’re here today, I’d like to do it without her- she doesn’t understand why it’s so important to me to talk to them, and I wanted to introduce you guys…”

“Of course Nev- we’ll go with you,” Luna squeezed his hand softly as they all huddled close to their friend, offering their support.

[The house elves crowd around the muggle television on their break, watching a telenovela.  They don’t know what it means, but they’re pretty sure that someone just had sex with someone they didn’t realise was their long-lost brother.]

Harry put a quick glamour on before they went into the hospital, not wanting to distract from their mission by being recognized.  Hoping to make a glum Neville feel a little better, he gave himself a comically long nose and big, bushy eyebrows. He was rewarded with a smile from the other teen.

He checked in at the desk and got their visitors’ passes.  “Hello Janice, nice to see you,” he told the receptionist, who smiled kindly at him.

“Nice to see you Neville- glad you could manage an extra visit this year,” she told him.

“You getting Christmas off this year?” Neville asked her, and she just laughed.

“No, of course not- haven’t since you couldn’t even see over the desk.  But I’ll have my muggle bachelor’s degree by next year, and then I’m out of here.  Between you and me, I hate most people- not you, of course, but…”

Neville chuckled.  “I know Janice, I know- your name is the only thing about you that’s suited for being a receptionist.”

“Enjoy, cheeky thing,” she swatted him with a pamphlet.

“I do love Janice- she’s sort of the closest thing to a mother I’ve had since my parents… well, you know… I mean, I love my grandmother, but she’s more like the scary nun that runs a terrifying Catholic school.”

When they reached the room, Neville turned around.  “Only three people can go in at a time, and I was thinking it should be Blaise, because he’s my soulmate, however that happened, and Harry… my mum and yours were friends, and she was your godmother.  Lily was mine as well.”

“I never knew that- that’s really cool,” Harry smiled at Neville and squeezed his hand reassuringly (which didn’t make Draco jealous- he was only jealous when other people looked at Harry, because he knew Harry would never betray his trust, but that didn’t stop others from being understandably attracted to his perfect, amazing, awesome boyfriend.  Not Neville, of course, though, so it was fine).

Neville pushed open the door, and Harry gasped immediately.  The two others turned to look at him, and Frank and Alice just blinked, glassy-eyed and inattentive, but Harry didn’t want to explain yet in case he was wrong.

“Neville- can I have a moment alone with your parents?  I can’t say why yet, but I just need you to trust me,” he told his friend.

“I trust you- just, call me back in when you’re done?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, and the other two left him alone for a moment.  He turned to his godmother and her husband, focusing intently on the fuzzy, throbbing curse remnants draped over their heads.  Draco sat in the back of Harry’s mind, quietly with baited breath, not telling anyone about what was happening in case it went badly, but bolstering Harry with his moral support.

Harry pushed himself very gently into Alice and Frank’s minds, pulling the curse towards him inch by inch.  The loose static of the curse slowly solidified into a small, sharp, spiky mass. This was the part that he wasn’t looking forward to, but it had to be done, and quickly, with no hesitation, like ripping off a band-aid.  He grabbed each curse remnant, and, with a grunt, pulled it out, letting it dissipate into the air as the couple jerked, first in pain, then in surprise.  They looked at him strangely for a moment, and Harry remembered that he was still wearing comically awkward glamours, so he removed them, and Alice’s face changed to one of shocked realisation.

“Wha?... where… Harry?”

“You know me?” he asked, touched.

“You… only you and Lily have… had… eyes like that,” her voice broke.  “But it… you’re- you look like you’re twelve or thirteen now- what happened?!”

“I- I’m actually fifteen,” Harry broke it to them gently, pushing that little part of him that was thinking really- thirteen? Stupid malnutrition! down into the back of his brain.  “It- it’s a lot to explain. I’ll just…” he opened the door and stuck his head out.  “You can come in now,” he told Neville and Blaise. They did, and Neville dropped the coffee he’d gotten all over the floor.

“Mum… dad?” his voice quavered, and he took a tentative step forward.

“My baby!”  Alice sobbed, rushing forward to hold her son as Frank followed, barely able to make his legs move, so overcome with emotion as he took in the sight of his precious child, a man in his own right now.  His son was fifteen years old now, there were new lines around the eyes of his beloved wife, his own body felt so much different from his last memories, which seemed like they occurred only a moment ago, and he belatedly realised that he could hear Alice’s thoughts, her perfect voice filling his head, but those were all things he could figure out later.  For now, it was time to hold his family.

Chapter Text

Harry hung back with Blaise while Alice, Frank, and Neville held each other, giving them their space- it was what he would want with his parents, after all, if he could see them again.  Eventually, however, they looked up, and Alice addressed him with a gentle smile.

“So,” she told him, wiping a tear out of her eye, “we’ve obviously got a lot to catch up on.”

“Er, yeah, a lot’s happened,” Harry agreed.  “I just sent Draco off to get Minnie and Sev- they were getting coffee while we visited you.”

“Draco Malfoy?  That Draco?” Alice asked.  “I- what?”

“Okay, so first things first, I guess.  Draco and I are soulmates- there was this comet thing, which was why I didn’t have to go out and talk to him, because we share a mental bond now- can you hear it with Mr. Longbottom?”

“Ohhh- that explains that bit at least,” Neville’s dad spoke up, “and please- call me Frank.”

“Okay- Frank. So, Lucius, Draco’s dad- he got arrested, but not for being a Death Eater- another thing, but we’ll get into that later.  So Narcissa married her girlfriend- well, not like, legally, because that’s still not a thing, but I’m sure that if you were friends with my mum, then you knew that Narcissa wasn’t like her husband.”  Alice nodded.

“Yeah, so anyway- I mean, I’m sure you’ve realised that it’s been a while…” Harry continued.

“Yes- our last memories were of that awful Bellatrix and her husband trying to make us tell her where you were, and what happened to Voldemort, neither of which we knew,” Frank agreed.

“They- they used the cruciatus curse on you, and they used it for so long you ended up here in St. Mungo’s for the last fourteen years,” Blaise picked up, helping Harry along with the explanation.

“They said you’d gone insane from the curse, and that you’d basically lost all memories of who you were, and that you’d never recover,” Neville told his parents shakily.

“So what suddenly changed?” Alice asked.

“I… I have mage senses,” Harry said, as his godmother and Frank gave him an impressed look.  “And Neville just told us today about what happened to you, and when we went with him to visit you for the first time, I felt remnants of the cruciatus curse clouding your mind, and I pulled them out, and you came back…”

“Well... that’s-” but they never got to find out what that was, because Minerva, ignoring the ‘three visitors at a time’ rule, and being chased by a frantic nurse and a panting Draco and Severus, burst into the room.

“Alice! Frank!” she gasped, taking in the sight of them.  “Merlin’s balls- you’re really back!” Behind them, the nurse just stood there gaping like a fish, looking for all the world like Alice and Frank had not even twenty minutes earlier.  Their old teacher rushed up and grabbed them in a hug before turning to Harry.

“Harry, sweetheart, are you alright?” she asked nervously, kneeling down to feel his forehead and check his pulse.  “Are you feeling shaky after all that magic?”

“Mama, I’m fine,” Harry grabbed her hands, which were frantically checking every part of him she could reach.  “And I see you back there, Uncle Sev.” The potions master, caught out from where he had been casting a discreet diagnostic charm on the teen, lowered his wand, caught out, but not before he got the results.

“He’s fine- his magical core shows no signs of exhaustion or depletion.”  Harry rolled his eyes.

“I could have told you that,” he said, “and Draco could have confirmed it.”

“He does really feel fine- he’s not just bluffing like he usually does,” the blonde agreed, and Harry gave Draco a look .

“I couldn’t bluff anymore, even if that is what I did- which it isn’t- you’re all just overprotective.”

“Lies and slander!” Draco clamoured, crossing his arms but unable to keep from laughing a bit.

“We’re still rather behind,” Frank piped up.  “Why does Harry call you ‘mama’ professor, and what about Sirius- I thought he was supposed to raise Harry- wait… ”

“He wasn’t the secret keeper- he was the decoy, but he was still framed for the murder and was in Azkaban until I was thirteen,” Harry explained.  “But we cleared his name, and he’s okay now.”

“So Minerva raised you, then,” Alice surmised.  “And Severus must have changed a lot.”

“Yeah, no offence mate, but most of us hated you,” Frank broke in.

“None taken,” Severus deadpanned.  

“I actually didn’t get custody of Harry until three years ago,” Minerva sighed, rubbing her forehead and ignoring… whatever interaction was going on with her colleague and Neville’s parents.  “Dumbledore insisted he live with Petunia and her husband.”

“ No! ” Alice and Frank cried at the same time.

“Afraid so,” Severus sighed.

“That old fool!” Alice cursed.  “How bad…?”

“I’m alright now,” Harry promised.  “Don’t worry.”

“You could be better, physically,” Severus grumbled.
“Oh Merlin, Harry- is that why you’re so small?” Alice had tears in her eyes, this time not joy, but of sadness.

“I’m not that small,” Harry complained, but sighed and changed tactics when everyone gave him disbelieving looks.  “Okay, but that’s not our main focus right now- in case nobody else has noticed, the nurse over there recently fainted.”  The nurse, indeed, was over on the floor (which was rather lucky, really, as he heard nothing of the Dursley conversation).  

“I’ve got it,” Severus sighed, waving a potion under his nose.  “Good under pressure, this one,” he snarked, as the man slowly came around.

“Call… call the doctor- patients are awake,” he slurred eventually as he sat up, rubbing his head.

“I just have,” Minerva informed him as she pressed a button on the wall.

“You’re really not good at your job, are you?” Severus snarled at the man, rolling his eyes.

Sev, be nice, Julian chastised.

I will not, Severus responded, mentally glaring at his soulmate as well.   What if there had been something wrong and nobody else was around, and his incompetence cost the lives of the patients?

Fair point, but you have to admit that this situation was rather a shock, Julian countered.

Neville didn’t faint, and they were his parents, Sev quipped back.

“They’re having one of their conversations again, him and his soulmate,” Harry informed Alice and Frank, who were looking at the potions master strangely.

“You- Severus has- he’s…” Alice started.

“Dating, in love, with someone- yes,” Harry confirmed.  “Although he’ll deny all three and say he just woke up with Uncle Jules in his head.”

“Alright, what seems to be the prob-” the doctor started, before he saw Alice and Frank looking at him alertly.

“We’d like to check out now,” Frank made his first dad joke in fourteen years.  The doctor fainted.

“Is everyone in this hospital incompetent?!” Severus threw his hands up and started running tests on the Longbottoms himself.

“Something tells me they weren’t expecting us to wake up,” Alice said wryly, looking over to where Harry was trying to bring the doctor around, seeing as Sev was busy and over this shit.

“Oh Merlin- Gran is going to lose it ,” Neville suddenly declared.  “I think the shock just might kill her- how should we do this?”

“My mother raised you?” Frank put his head in his hands.  “Oh gods- how bad is the anxiety?”

“Um, it’s okay, since Professor McGonagall had a talk with her about how she shouldn’t expect me to be just like you,” his son answered.

“Oh, so she was telling you how great I was,” Frank rolled his eyes.  “Because for all I love that woman, I never heard the end of it growing up… ‘your grades could be better, shoddy charmwork, that, would you stop leaving your wet towels on the floor?’” he squawked, in a decent impression of Augusta Longbottom.

“She had a point about the wet towels,” Alice teased her husband, but she looked worried about her son.

“Well, we’ll be raising you now,” Frank said firmly.  “And we’re very proud of you, Neville.” Nev blushed and smiled, looking shyly down at his feet.

“So, what happened to our old house?” Alice asked.

“Augusta had it sold- it was pretty badly damaged in the attack, and she didn’t want to repair it just to be reminded of what happened,” Minerva informed her.

“Alright then, we’ll just stay with my mother… whom I love… very much… and totally don’t mind moving back in with, because the first eighteen years of day-in and day-out weren’t nearly enough…” Frank groaned.

“We can loan you some rooms in Hogwarts, if you like, so you can be closer to Neville,” Minerva offered, and Frank forced himself to count to five before calmly remarking that that would be lovely (instead of screaming “YES!” before she finished her sentence).

“How do you like Hogwarts, luv?” Alice ignored the relief she felt emanating from Frank’s mind as she talked to her son.

“I love it!” Neville enthused.  “Especially herbology- but I just got my second O on a potion.  It’s really nice there- especially since we weren’t sure I was gonna get to go.”

“Why wouldn’t you have gone, luv?”

“I didn’t have any accidental magic until I was eight,” he informed his mum, kicking at the floor slightly nervously.

“Your father and I also were late bloomers,” Alice told him.  “In fact, many great wizards and witches are either unusually early or unusually late with their first display of accidental magic.  We actually bet on it, James, Lily, your father and I. Harry had his at eight months, and you had yours at eight years, so you both show enormous potential and your father owes me ten galleons- again,” she rolled her eyes at Frank.

“I was so close- I bet nine and nine,” her husband sighed.

“I feel better now,” Neville laughed.  “Even after Uncle Algie dropped me out that window and I bounced, we were worried that the fact I developed so late meant I wouldn’t be magical enough.”

“ HE DID WHAT?! ” his parents yelled.

“Oh- I realise that sounded bad- he didn’t mean to drop me, see- he was shaking me upside down, hoping he could jumpstart the magic, but he got excited when someone offered him some pie and accidentally dropped me- accidentally.”

“Neville- that’s not acceptable,” Alice informed him, forcing herself to talk calmly despite her burning rage.  “He shouldn’t have done that, and nobody should have allowed him to behave that way.”

“Gram yelled at him afterwards,” Neville defended, worried he’d gotten his family in trouble.

“I don’t care- she should have been watching to make sure you were safe in the first place- you were eight!” Frank asserted.  “You could have died!”

“I didn’t though,” Neville tried to calm his parents down, feeling bad he’d made them upset.  “And we found out I wasn’t a squib, so that’s good.”

“Neville,” Alice wrapped her son in a hug, trying not to cry.  “We wouldn’t have cared if you were a squib- you’re our son and we would have been devastated if anything happened to you.  They shouldn’t have abused you to try to force you to do magic before you were ready.”

“They didn’t abuse me, though…” Neville said, confused.  What happened to him- that wasn’t abuse… Harry was abused, Draco was abused, but what happened with his family was just them being hard on him because they wanted what was best for him, right?

No luv- that’s not okay, Blaise told him through their bond, and Neville realised that that was the first time Blaise had ever used a term of endearment with him.

“Oh darling,” Alice was fully crying now, and Frank wrapped his arms around his family as he held back his own tears.

“It’s going to be okay,” he soothed his wife.  “We’re here now, and we won’t let anyone hurt him ever again.”

[Harry manages to bring the doctor round, and he eventually clears Frank and Alice to leave, declaring them sound and healthy.]

“Our poor children,” Lily sighed that night as they watched Frank and Alice tucking Neville in to his bed in the dorm, as Minerva did the same for Harry and Draco, who was sleeping with his soulmate (and nobody thought it was unwarranted, because their friends all agreed that those three deserved some love).

“I know,” James squeezed her hand as they sat in their comfortable little cottage, looking at all the pictures of their precious Harry on the wall.  His eyes caught on one they’d taken of Harry as he read a book at Mrs. Figg’s, wearing his loosest clothing and already unknowingly putting up glamours so the sweet old woman wouldn’t suspect anything (he was already so tired all the time that the exhaustion caused by such advanced accidental magic didn’t strike him as unusual).  It had been so hard to take photos of him, because it was very rare that he wasn’t having a completely awful time, but he always did enjoy going to sweet old Mrs. Figg’s- even though the cake she gave him was old and stale, it was still food, and Harry loved getting affection from her cats and being allowed to watch the telly, nearly unheard-of luxuries for him.  Despite the sting of being left behind by the Dursleys and told in no uncertain terms that he was not part of the family, Mrs. Figg’s house was the sight of most of his precious few pre-Hogwarts happy memories.  He should have been so well-treated and loved that he would have hated going to a house that smelled like mothballs with a batty-yet-sweet old woman watching him like most boys his age.

“I hate them,” Lily fumed.  “They deserve so much more than what we did to them on Halloween- I wish we could do more.”

Just as she said that, she found herself and her husband jerked through the veil, landing with a plonk in a foggy, cloudy place that wasn’t the veil, but definitely wasn’t the plane of the living.

“Where are we?” she asked James, who was squinting as he caught vague images of… Kreacher chasing the Dursleys with a frying pan?

“I… I think we’re in their dreams,” he told his wife.  “We can’t get back into the land of the living until next Halloween, so we’ve been permitted to dream haunt.”

“How come it never happened before- we’ve wanted to hurt them for years,” Lily pointed out.

“I… we must have had to do a physical haunt before we were permitted to dream-haunt,” James realised.

“Why didn’t any of the neighbours ever tell us- we have friends in the afterlife, after all,” Lily harrumphed.  Before they could get too worked up about it, however, they were filled with an utter certainty of the answer.

The secrets of the veil cannot be taught- they must be discovered.   The world of the dead was unusual- not even those beyond the veil knew who ran it, and it was kind of just a place you ended up.  It wasn’t too bad, at least not for James and Lily, and they would have been quite happy if it weren’t for missing their son and being distressed by his care.  But the point is that there wasn’t exactly an usher waving them in and telling them how it worked. And yet- there were some things they became aware of by virtue of being beyond the veil, even if there was no tangible presence that actually told them.  That was how they’d known that haunting of one’s enemies was possible on Halloween.  And now they knew that they could haunt their enemies dreams as well, since they’d taken that steps.

“Well, love- we have work to do.  I think we ought to make them understand the terror of fearing for your life, feeling hunted, like we did when Voldemort was coming for us, and like they made Harry feel.”

“Why my dear, you are simply devious,” James told her, a wide smile lighting up his face.

Chapter Text

Neville’s parents were with the children in the Gryffindor common room the day after they’d been released, watching them all and smiling as their son and his friends all worked on their homework in the comfort of the well-lit room.  Harry and Draco were cuddled together as they read from the same potions textbook, and Alice and Frank were glad that he seemed to be moving on, at least emotionally, from whatever hell the Dursleys had put him through. Physically- well, they’d heard about his immune disorder, and they were not happy- then again, they were not happy about a lot of things- the treatment of Narcissa (Alice, because she had been close friends with Lily, had been secretly close with Narcissa as well) and her son by the man she’d been forced to marry, and of course, the treatment of their own son, which hurt them worst of all- that he had been put through all that, that he didn’t even say anything as his friends’ abuse was being discovered, because he’d thought the way he was being treated was normal, was okay .  Their poor darling.

“Where are my son and daughter-in-law?” Augusta’s stern voice could be heard calling suddenly, outside the portrait hole.  “He comes back to himself yesterday and I have to hear about it from the paper?!”

“They wanted to spend some time with their son, Augusta,” Minerva’s voice could be heard trying to reason with the Longbottom matriarch.  “There’s a lot going on- he’s suddenly fourteen years older than when they last saw him.”

“I would have thought that my grandson would have sent me a letter, at least- I thought we’d grown closer in the last few years.”

“Well, it was my understanding that you had grown closer since we had our discussion, but that doesn’t mean that a child has a responsibility to write you immediately when something so momentous has happened.”

“Would you please just let me in, Minerva?  I need to see my family,” Neville’s grandmother pleaded.

“They’re… it’s rather a lot for them to take in, and they’re very upset about some of the attempts to get Neville to manifest magic, especially a certain… incident with your brother Algernon, and I must admit I was horrified as well when I heard of it,” Minerva lectured.

“I… we talked about it- it wasn’t good behaviour on his part, and I told him I didn’t want him behaving like that.”

“And that was it?!  Augusta- that was child abuse !  He could have died.  You were extremely lucky that Neville’s magic saved him.”

“I… he didn’t die, and I suppose I didn’t think of it that way- we were just so happy that he’d showed magical talent and I just- it never really occurred to me what could have happened…” Augusta began to get distressed.

“And by doing that, you sent him a message that he only mattered as long as he was magically capable !” Frank had suddenly swung back the portrait from the inside.

“I- he’s my grandson- I would never tell him he didn’t matter to me if he was a squib!” His mother replied, indignant.

“I don’t care what you said- he’s a child- you didn’t have to say it- he got the impression from the way you behaved- you should have called the aurors on the man holding my son out the window!” Alice roared, joining her husband by the entrance to the common room.

“You would have me call the aurors on Neville’s great uncle- but he’s family!”

“ Family doesn’t behave that way! ” Frank cried.  “Uncle Algie hurt Neville- he traumatised him, and by letting him get away with it, you sent the message that it was okay !”

“I did the best I could- I’d lost my son, and I love Neville- would you compare me to those awful Dursleys, implying I abused him ?!”

“We’re not comparing you to the Dursleys mum, and you know we aren’t so don’t turn it that way!  We’re saying that you did wrong by our son, and you need to own that if you expect us to be able to move on as a family!”

Neville, meanwhile, had begun to tremble- he didn’t like conflict, and the fact that he felt he had caused these three people he cared about to fight with each other.  Blaise was rubbing his shoulders, feeling his anxiety through the bond as he tried to send peaceful, calming thoughts, but Neville was long overdue for a panic attack- just because things had gotten better at home since his gran had become friends with his friends’ parents and Professor McGonagall had talked to her about not treating him like he had to become his father didn’t mean that the trauma of the things he’d been through had gone away.  Now his parents, that he’d just gotten back, were fighting with his Gran, who he also loved, and he felt that he shouldn’t have mentioned the incident with Great-uncle Algie.

Blaise sighed- Neville shouldn’t feel bad about things that had happened to him, and his family shouldn’t be arguing in front of him, even though his parents had every right to be angry.  He walked up to the arguing adults and clapped his hands.

“Enough!” he stated firmly, but didn’t raise his voice.  “I understand that you all have some problems to work out right now, understandably, but you shouldn’t be fighting around Neville- he just got his family back together, and he should be enjoying that, not panicking because he’s watching you bitch at each other!”

“Oh no,” Alice’s voice broke as she looked at her son, who had gone white all over and was breathing very rapidly, nearly hyperventilating.  “Baby, we’re sorry! Frank, c’mere and help me calm him down.”

Neville’s parents rushed to their son, gently rubbing his back, and Augusta took a tentative step forward, but Minerva put a hand on her shoulder.

“I think you ought to give them a while to get reacquainted, and things are still a bit raw between you, Frank, and Alice, and you ought to work things out between you when Neville isn’t around,” the head of Gryffindor told her softly.

“Alright, I’ll leave,” Augusta sighed.  “I love you, Neville,” she called to him before turning to leave with a sad little sigh.

“I, I love you too,” Neville, still shaking, managed to call out softly as she left.

“We’re sorry, kiddo,” Frank whispered, squeezing Nev’s shoulder gently.  “We shouldn’t have argued in front of you.”

“It’s okay da, you don’t have to apologise,” Neville told him.

“Yes, Neville, we do need to apologise to you, because we let our own anger take priority, and we shouldn’t have- we’re your parents, and it’s our job to put you first,” Alice said, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand and pulling her son closer.  “And we will do whatever we have to to make sure that happens- we’re here for you. Always .”

Chapter Text

“So how many more people do we have to collect before there’s no more room in Narcissa and Aralynn’s house?” Pansy asked as she filed her nails.

“Collect?” Harry gave her an odd look, “You make it sound so… criminal .”

“Pansy makes everything sound criminal,” Ron pointed out.

“‘Cos I’m so boss it’s a crime,” Pansy said, flipping her braid over her shoulder and making it somehow seem non-cliche.  

“Mob boss, maybe,” Draco rolled his eyes, dodging the Bertie Botts bean his friend threw at him (it was one of the gross ones, because Pansy already had Harry sort them).

“But instead of popping pills and doing drugs, she just eats jelly beans like Paul McCartney chain-smokes,” Blaise snorted, high-fiving Neville.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I do chain-smoke- just with joints and only on Saturdays,” Pansy had moved on to painting her nails with a deep shade of red.

“I used to chain-smoke weed on Saturdays,” Cedric lamented, “but now that Pansy keeps finding my stash, I’m lucky if I get ahold of one.”

“James had the same problem with Sirius, if I remember correctly,” Alice informed them, her hand affectionately draped across her son’s shoulder as she looked through the daily paper, occasionally asking her son questions about something that had happened in the past fourteen years she didn’t have the background information on.

“If something went missing that we weren’t allowed to have in the first place, it was Sirius,” Frank agreed, arm around Alice’s waist.

“Sounds about right for the man who married our defence professor,” Hermione quipped.

“You mean our defence professor who built a maze full of XXXX-rated creatures for our previous defence professor?  Somehow, I see it…” Millie chuckled.

“Ahhh yes, the XXXX creature that attatched himself to Harry, like every other one he’s ever met,” Draco smirked, as Snally, enjoying some time with his mummy, put his head in Harry’s lap, who in turn was reclining into Draco’s.

“So, Christmas Eve’s tomorrow, and they announce the election results,” Ginny commented.  “Anyone else nervous?”

“Yeah, Christmas-dinner indigestion is a bitch ,” Ron remarked.  Ginny smacked him.

“No nimrod- for the election results !”

“Oh, no- Cissa’s got it in the bag,” the redhead dismissed.  

“Anyway, Mama told me we were going to their place around 2,” Harry broke in, before Ginny and Ron could continue into full-on beating the crap out of each other (as siblings do).

[James and Lily discover that dream-haunting effectively keeps the victim from getting restful sleep, so essentially, the Dursleys aren’t sleeping at all , even when they’re unconscious in bed.]

“Fred and George Weasley!” Molly yelled out, waving her spoon at her sons.  “I don’t care if you are legal adults and successful entrepreneurs- you put those pastries down before you ruin your appetites!”

“Muuuuuum,” said ‘successful adults’ whinged, “Dinner’s not for another three hours, and you just gave Harry a brownie…”

“Harry needs a brownie,” the Weasley matriarch rebutted, pointing to the little Potter, currently struggling through the third brownie she’d shoved at him.  “Just look at how skinny he is.” Harry would have argued that he’d gained two whole pounds in the past month, but just then a house elf brought him a glass of milk and nearly tipped it down his throat herself in her eagerness to get him to drink it.

“My dad had a fast metabolism too, and nobody tried to force-feed him all the time,” Harry grumbled when he finally had his mouth free again.

“That’s because James was always shoving it in as fast as he could get it,” Minerva informed him, ruffling his hair.  “Rather like Ronald over there.” Ron, from where he had been sneaking an eclair, looked up with a guilty look on his face (along with a decent amount of chocolate frosting).

“Well if everyone else is eating,” George reached for a biscuit, only to have it pop away.

“Stop eating all Flopsy’s work before it is being time!” was heard from the kitchen as the house elf bustled around, mixing more batter.

“No rest for the Weasleys, huh?” he turned to Fred with a sigh as Ron sadly licked the last bit of frosting off the corners of his mouth.  Harry tried to offer him a pity brownie (the fourth one that had been given to him) but out of nowhere, another elf popped in.

“You eat,” he ordered before he went back to polishing Draco’s favourite dragon figurines, his skirt swishing as he moved.

“So, just a warning- my mums have started this new tradition of giving everyone a Christmas Eve gift,” Draco told them trepidatiously.  

“More presents are a good thing- why do you sound so worried?” Ginny asked, from where she was braiding flowers into Luna’s hair.

“They’re matching pyjamas,” Harry supplied.  “And nobody knows what the pattern is…”

“Oh gods- we’re gonna look so dumb,” Blaise groaned.

“It could go well…” Cho tried to be optimistic.

“They took Pads with them to shop,” Draco sighed.

“Okay, we’re all screwed,” Cedric lamented.  “And I’ve worn some weird shit .”

Before anyone could ask what the fuck went on during Hufflepuff costume contests before they’d started hanging out there, Sarah came through the floo, followed by a very cranky Severus (so, a very normal-looking Severus).  His arms were crossed over his chest, but that didn’t manage to cover the ‘Super job!’ gold star sticker pinned to his robes.

“He did great today- only threw one temper tantrum the whole session,” Sarah announced.

“It wasn’t a tantrum,” Severus grumbled.  “I simply refused to humour your inane questioning.”

“You put your fingers in your ears and went ‘nananana not listening and you can’t make me,’” Sarah rolled her eyes at him.

“And it was very dignified- you’re telling it wrong.”

She hit the nail on the head, Julian, who unfortunately didn’t want to risk Christmas with the rest of them in case it got back to the death eaters, told the potions professor.

You and your trite American expressions.

Merry Christmas, cranky bastard, Julian chuckled.

Ugh, fine- Merry Christmas… Julian .

“So, where’s The Black Sheep?” Alice asked Sarah, seeing as one of them lived in her head.

“We’re right here!” Tonks made her entrance, followed by Sirius and Remus, her dignified mother bringing up the rear, the lovely deep-green pencil skirt she wore making her t-shirt look rather put-together.

“And we brought early Christmas gifts!” Sirius howled, bringing out an actual t-shirt cannon.  “Cissy, Ara, Harry, Draco, eyes up!” Matching shirts were lobbed at each remaining Black and their partners, and Harry gave his godfather an apathetic look as he looked at the size tag on his.

“A child’s medium- really?” he asked, indignant.

“Those shirts run a bit small, so we sized up just in case- it can be a sleep shirt if it’s too big.”  Indeed, as Harry put the shirt on, it was a bit loose, the hemline going down to his thigh.

“I hate all of you,” he groused as they laughed at him and Minnie took the camera out.

“No you don’t- I can feel how much you love me,” Draco told him, still chuckling.

“Fine, but this is another strike on the rest of you,” he grumbled, pulling out a journal with the words Rancour Register emblazoned on the front and starting to scribble into it.

“I told you not to get him one of those,” Minnie looked at Sev, who was smirking.

“You said that I shouldn’t , not that I couldn’t- I got us matching ones, because someone at least appreciates how insufferable you all can be.”

“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to have one,” Harry said, looking suddenly concerned.  Minnie leaned down to ruffle his hair.

“Oh, you can keep it- I’m not going to take it from you just because a certain Slytherin can’t follow directions,” she kissed his forehead.

“Thanks mama.”

“Of course, darling- anything for you,” she told him.  Then she turned to Severus.

“You, on the other hand- we’re going to have another discussion on being a good influence.”

“But Harry’s the good influence on him ,” Sirius chuckled, and the tabby animagus turned to look at him too.

“Hey, you could do with following Harry’s example more as well, Mr. Drunk-at-Dinner,” Minnie scolded Sirius.

“Hey, to be fair, Severus and I were both plastered- he just hides it better.”

“Oh sure, rat me out mutt, rat me out…” Severus gave him a dirty look.

“It was your alcohol- I was doing you a favour by testing your homemade moonshine- what an excellent use of your potions degree, that…”

“Dinner time!” Dobby suddenly came through banging a gong, wearing a santa outfit with a Yamaka (because, you know… intersectionality).

[Pansy takes a bath after dinner, reading the next Game of Thrones book and enjoying a glass of cabernet that she got from one of her elf contacts.]

Harry got out of the shower, drying his hair and wearing Draco’s t-shirt from the 1992 London Pride Parade he’d gone to with his mums the summer after their second year, which came down to his knees.  Draco was waiting for him in the bed, the silver and green dragons that danced along his wall mural intertwined above the headboard.

“When do they announce the election results?” Harry asked as he climbed in, snuggling against Draco as he settled into his favourite position as the little spoon (everyone likes being the little spoon; it makes them feel safe).

“Eleven-thirty,” Draco answered, pulling Harry tighter against his chest and kissing the top of his head.  “Think you can stay awake until then?”

“Mmm, totally,” Harry slurred as his boyfriend moved onto kissing his neck.  “I’m…” he yawned, “totally awake.”

“Here,” Draco flipped the telly on.  “This ought to keep you awake,” he chuckled, flipping to the movie channel and selecting Jurassic Park.   “It’s even better when you picture Sev’s voice making fun of their incompetence.”

“I think Hagrid would love a dinosaur- actually, I can picture him doing this…” Harry trailed off, a little concerned.

“No, Hagrid would put a jeweled collar on the t-rex and called her Princess,” Draco pointed out.

By the time the credits rolled, and Draco and Harry had done a lot of Severus Snape impressions (“Filling in the gaps with bird DNA- what are they, first year potions students?”  “Oh yes, an electric fence- that will keep the dinosaurs inside, no problems at all.”), it was almost time for the election results.  But before they could drag themselves out of their comfortable bed, Aralynn came running through the hallways with Narcissa slung over her shoulder, shouting “My wife’s the minister- make way for the minister- I’m going to go have celebratory sex with the minister!”

“Ugh, Mums!” Draco threw a pillow at them, which they dodged gleefully as they kept running, shouting their victory to the household while the house elves popped champagne corks.

Harry snuggled into Draco’s shoulder, curling his toes, which were cold despite the mountain of blankets, into his boyfriend’s warmth as he buried his nose into the blonde’s shirt.

“Sweet dreams,” Draco murmured as Harry drifted off to sleep.  Then, quieter, to himself, “I’m so lucky.”

Chapter Text

Lily and James watched their son drift off to sleep, wrapped around Draco, his face nestled comfortably in the crook of the blonde’s shoulder.  The pyjamas that Sirius, Cissa, and Ara had gotten them were laid aside on the chairs (they were all matching their animagus forms, and no matter how warm they were, nothing on earth would get Harry and Draco into the kitten and ferret onesies even one minute before they had to the next morning).

“I know it’s selfish of me, since he’s so happy, but that should be us,” Lily lamented, turning to her husband.

“I know,” James sighed.  “That’s our baby, and we should be sneaking around downstairs trying to quietly put presents under the tree, even though he no longer believes in Father Christmas.”

“I wish… I wish we could enter his dreams as well, even though we wouldn’t be haunting him,” Lily wiped a tear away, but when she opened her eyes again, she and her husband were floating through the fog, the way they did when they went to visit the Dursleys’ dreams.

[Cissa and Ara have to be very quiet as they set up the tree and eat cookies off a plate that has been left out, as the house elves still believe in Father Christmas and they don’t want to ruin it for them.]

Harry was having a lovely dream about flying on Lily the dragon over the Hogwarts grounds when he suddenly felt the magical presence of two people behind him.  He turned around and there were his parents, looking just as confused as he was.

“Holy mother of Merlin!” he swore as Dream-Lily-the-Dragon landed out by the quidditch pitch.

“More like ‘holy mother of you!’” James couldn’t resist quipping as he reached a hand out to touch Harry, trying to see if he was real.

“Why are you in my dreams?  You’ve never been in my dreams before- and trust me, I’ve tried to dream about it,” Harry interrogated, squinting suspiciously at the couple.

“We’ve- it’s a long story- see, we’ve never been able to go into dreams before until we went haunting last Halloween, but we couldn’t visit you because haunting has to be done to people you hate, but then we figured out we could visit the Dursleys dreams to dream-haunt anytime, because we’d gone haunting physically, but we still didn’t think we could see you because you can’t haunt people you love, but then we wanted to see you, and I guess there’s a rule we didn’t know about until now, even though we’ve tried, because here we are…” Lily spoke very quickly, excited beyond belief.

“How do I know you’re my real parents and not just something from my subconscious?” Harry asked, still not believing something so wonderful could be happening.

Harry love, you alright? Draco’s dreams of sugarplum fairies and candy cane forests were interrupted by a wave of conflicting feelings and a rush of disjointed images from his soulmate, and in his sleep, he pulled the physical Harry tighter.

I… we have a situation- can you come over? Soulmates could share each other’s dreams just as they could thoughts, which was a wonderful solution when one of them was having nightmares, as the other could just go and pull them out.  But this didn’t feel like a nightmare, so Draco cautiously crossed into Harry’s dream as the picture in front of him made the other’s confused thoughts make sense.

Your parents are here, he stated the obvious.   And you’re wondering if they’re real.  

Yeah- I mean, dreaming about my parents in any capacity would be nice, but they’re saying they’ve figured out how to enter my dreams just now.  

Ooh! Draco had an epiphany.   I’ve got an idea!  

He’d begun asking his mum about her Hogwarts years, now that he could get her true thoughts on it with Lucius gone, and he’d found out a little more about her pre-marital relationship with Lily.  Specifically:

“What happened when you and my mum had your first kiss?” the blonde asked Lily, out loud.

“Ah, verification,” she realised, smirking faintly- a Slytherin was good for her son, to watch out for him.  “Well, your mum was teaching me about pureblood customs, because I was a muggleborn and I wanted to know more about traditional wizarding society because knowing the people who ostracise you can only make you better prepared for their bullshit,” she explained, clearly rather like Minnie in that she had no desire to censor herself in front of her child, “and we were walking back from the library when she looked at me, and, proper as could be, just goes ‘so, how does courtship go for muggles- do you just… tell them you’re interested?’ and I said ‘yeah, pretty much,’ so she said ‘alright, well… I like you,’ and then we kissed.”

Draco nodded and looked at Harry.  “That’s how it happened,” he told his boyfriend.  “These are your parents.” He felt Harry’s overwhelming feelings of love, gratitude, disbelief, confusion- and he held the darker boy’s hand tighter as the other wiped his tears away.

“Mum, dad… you’re here, and I’m not about to die…” there was a moment where the whole world seemed like it stood still before it shot back into motion as Harry rushed forward to hug his parents, who on this dream plane were solid enough to embrace him back.

“Oh Harry, oh baby,” Lily had lost whatever tentative control of her emotions she’d had as she sobbed openly, holding her son for the first time since he was small enough to be carried around on her hip (James had started crying almost immediately, but Lily had held it together a little longer).

“You’re here, you’re really here,” Harry just kept saying, unable to process anything else at the moment.  Draco hung back, wanting to give them some space, until James managed to get a little control over himself and look up.

“C’mere kid,” he told the blonde.  “I’d like to meet you for real.”

Draco stepped trepidatiously forward.  “It’s very nice to see you, Lord Potter, and with all due respect, I really hope Harry and I have your blessing to-”

“Oy, cut that out and get in here, you silly ferret- you’re family too,” Harry’s father told him, ruffling his hair and pulling him into the group hug.  “And call me James, or Prongs if you’d rather, or even dad, if that works for you...”

“Er, alright…” Draco agreed, being folded into the hug and unable to keep from sighing, somewhere in the back of his mind, at the fact that even his boyfriend’s dead parents (who’d also sort of adopted him, apparently) also insisted on referring to his annoying furry alter-ego.

“You can call me whatever you want, luv, as I understand that you’ve got a lot of women in your life to keep track of already- and a dragon,” Lily laughed as her eyes drank in the sight of her son, so much happier and healthier than when she’d last seen him physically.

“So does this mean I can see you every night now?” Harry asked eagerly, as his mother ran her hands through his hair and rubbed his cheeks with her thumb and kissed his nose and his forehead and his ears and everywhere she possibly could.

“No, not every night, luv,” Lily told him gently, “because when the dead visit others in their dreams, it disrupts the natural sleep cycle, so it’s not really restful.  But we’ll visit as often as we possibly can without jeopardizing your ability to get a healthy amount of rest.”

“That’s… that’s so much better than I ever imagined it could be,” Harry wiped tears out of his eyes as he snuggled further into his parents, his boyfriend pressed tightly into his side in their tight cuddle-circle.

“This reminds me of when you were a baby- we tried to get you to sleep in a crib at first, but you just wanted to snuggle as closely as possible and kept crying for us, but once we let you sleep in the bed between us, you started sleeping through the night almost immediately,” James laughed as he ruffled Harry’s hair.

Harry and Draco talked and laughed and snuggled with his parents for another couple hours before James and Lily looked at the sky, which was gradually growing lighter.  

“It’s time for us to go, darling, so you can get a couple hours more of restful sleep before it’s time to open gifts and such,” his mum gathered her strength to say.

“I… I don’t need to sleep- please stay,” Harry begged, and James nearly caved, Harry’s begging eyes the same as his beloved wife’s, but Lily invented that look and thus had some resistance to it (just barely).

“No love- you need to rest properly or you’ll get sick again, but we’ll be back as soon as we can, alright?  Now go darling- sleep well and enjoy your Christmas,” she told him, grabbing James arm as they both gave him one last hug and gathered the strength to float back into the veil.

Chapter Text

“Mmm, Merry Christmas,” Draco told Harry as they woke up a couple hours after James and Lily left, kissing Harry’s forehead.

“Merry Christmas, luv,” Harry agreed, snuggling deeper into Draco and showing no interest in getting out of bed just yet.

“We’ve got to put on those awful onesies now, don’t we?” Draco groaned a few minutes later as the sun rose higher in the sky.

“If we want to be allowed downstairs, I’m afraid we do,” the shorter, darker teen sighed in agreement.

“At least you have a cute little kitten one,” Draco complained as Harry summoned the fuzzy pyjamas to them so they could change in bed, where it was warm.  “All I’ve got is this dumb ferret pelt.”

“I think it’s cute,” Harry objected.  “Just like you make a cute ferret.”

“Oh gods, you really mean that,” Draco rolled his eyes, feeling from the bond that Harry really did like his animagus form.  “I love you, you big dork.”

“Mmmm, love you too, you prat.”

They’d no sooner gotten changed than Pansy burst in on them, not even bothering to knock.

“Ugh,” Draco threw his head back against the pillows.  “You’re never up this early…”

“Except today,” Pansy sang, smiling and bouncing onto the duvet.  “I love presents!”

“Mmhm, we know,” Harry rolled his eyes at her as he slid out of bed, and Pansy’s eyes lit up as she took in the sight of him (all four feet and 11 inches).

“Awww, wook at your wittle tail,” she squealed, batting the appendage coming out of the back of the onsie.

“You have a tail too,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m a tigress- you’re a wee baby kitty cat,” she cooed as she pat his head.

Harry was about to tell her to shut it, but he thought of a better idea.  Leaning on Draco, grumpily dressed as a ferret, he said casually “so I saw my parents last night.”

“ What?! ” she gasped, unusually ungraceful as she nearly fell into Draco, taken off guard from where she was teasing him about his costume.

“They visited me in my dreams- Draco was there too- they figured out how to do it, and now I can see them regularly, but not every night because dream-visiting disturbs regular sleep…”

“That’s so amazing!” Pansy enthused as she wrapped him in a hug, her chin resting on the top of his head.  “I’m so happy for you! Did Draco try to ask for their approval like a doofus?”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled at the memory from the night before.  “It was really cute.”

“Now you’re teaming up on me?” the blonde whinged as he took Harry back from Pansy ( his Harry- his! ).

Nobody had to answer that, thankfully, as Narcissa came bounding through the open door, Aralynn just behind her.  “Signed my first laws!” she sang gleefully.

“Oh?” Harry prompted, curiously.

“Yes!” she cheered.  “It is now legal for same-sex couples to marry in magical Britain, and illegal to publish personal info on minors without their consent.”

“Woohoo!” the three teenagers echoed.

Harry then told the two women about meeting his parents in his dream last night, and it was the main subject over breakfast as they all ate cinnamon rolls and scrambled eggs in their pj’s (because eating was important, and there was no way anyone was going to let Harry start the day without a good breakfast, even if most families opened presents first).

“Maybe Jamie should pay a nighttime visit to Sevvy over there,” Sirius teased, pointing to a cranky potions master.  “I mean, we’re friends now, so might as well make it four again.”

“I will poison you in your sleep if you try to recruit me for that juvenile prank group of yours,” Sev cautioned, but Sirius just laughed.  “And don’t call me Sevvy.”

“Whatever you say, fruit bat, whatever you say…”

“Why, professor!” George put a hand over his heart.

“You should be honoured to be considered for the Mauraders,” Fred continued.  “It is only the greatest achievement a wizard could ever aspire to!”

“Thank you, Gred,” Sirius gloated.  “Severus is just crazy.”

“Sure, I’m the crazy one,” the Slytherin’s words were dripping with more sarcasm than the cinnamon roll in his hand was exuding glaze.

“Hurry up and eat,” Ginny ordered the adults.  “I wanna open presents!”

“Mmph!” Hermione mumbled, as Pansy, clearly in the same mindset as Ginny, shoved the last bite of Mia’s role into her mouth.

[Dobby and the other elves gleefully squeal as they look at the ‘snowy footprints’ from Father Christmas that Aralynn made with rain boots and powdered sugar.]

“I love these!” Ginny screeched, looking at the special decorated throwing knife set that Pansy had gotten for each of them.  Hers were decorated with herds of horses and swirling waves. Neville, who wasn’t a huge weaponry fan, nevertheless loved the various plant etchings in the handle of his.  Harry’s and Draco’s had matching snakes engraved in theirs, although Draco’s handle was jade with diamond eyes on the snake and Harry had a silver handle with emeralds for the eyes.

“Good, because we start practicing with them during TDT on the Monday we get back,” Pansy informed them.  “I also sent a set to Bee.”

“Oh gods, she’s making mini-Pansys,” Ron groaned, burying his face in the Canon’s blanket Charlie had sent him from the dragon reserve.

“More like ‘yay, she’s making mini-Pansys!’” the girl rallied, but Ron was not amused.

Speaking of ‘people who were not amused,’ Severus had just opened his gift from Harry and was holding up the jumper, which was knitted with Slytherin Green wool, the words ‘Mama Bat’ knitted in Silver lettering above a black image of a little fruit bat.

“You could have called it a day after the potions ingredients,” he sighed as he looked at Harry, trying to hide how touched he was by the effort Harry’d put into knitting the jumper, even if it was in jest.

“I did warn you,” Harry reminded him as he wrapped a new shawl from Minnie over his shoulders.

“Oh, put it on!” Pansy cried gleefully, at the same time Seamus was pulling his ‘Kiss me; I’m Irish,” t-shirt from Dean on over his salamander onesie.

“No.”

“Oh, come on, you cranky bastard,” Minnie teased, looking at Harry’s excellent stitch-work.  

“It’s okay- it was more of a joke gift anyway,” Harry smiled reassuringly at his Uncle Sev, and it was the sweet green eyes, expecting nothing and happy nonetheless, that did him in.  

“Oh, alright,” he grumbled, pulling the sweater on (he did not have on the bat onesie that Sirius and the Smith women had picked out for him, because some things were just too far- although if Harry had asked, he probably would have despite his objections).

Aww, you look so precious, Julian teased him.

Shush, Severus ordered his soulmate (and he was still getting used to that word, although when the other man was in his head, vigorous denial was unfortunately no longer a strategy he could utilise).

The man ignored the rest of Julian’s fondly sarcastic remarks and turned to Harry.  “You’re due for your injection today, by the way, so we can either do that after you’ve worked through your mountain of gifts or after dinner, whichever works best for you.”

“I think it might take me until dinner to get through all of these,” Harry said, looking at the giant pile of presents his friends and family had gotten him.  “You guys spoil me.”

“It’s not spoiling you if you deserve every bit of it,” Minnie told him affectionately, ruffling his hair.

“Thanks mama,” Harry giggled, leaning into the touch.  “Love you.”

“Love you too kitten, love you too.”

[Ron and Viktor thought it would be funny to get Ginny a saddle and bridle for her animagus form, with a special saddle-bag that included a pouch for owl-Luna.]

“Ten galleons says I can throw you off in five minutes or less,” Ginny challenged Blaise.

“You’re on,” he accepted as Ginny changed into her form, only for Blaise to realise he had no fucking idea how to tack her up.

“I may not have ridden a horse before, but I’m pretty sure you’re putting it on backwards,” Harry put a sonorous charm on his voice and called out from his warm window seat by the fire, his arm wrapped up after his injections as he read one of his new books while buried in more fluffy blankets.

Ginny had grown her winter coat, so it wasn’t helping the poor Slytherin that he couldn’t even see his hands through all her fur as he tried to figure out how to get the saddle pad to lie correctly.

“Oh, let us help you,” Pansy eventually rolled her eyes.  “I got the saddle, Mia- you get the bridle.”

“You two know how to ride a horse?” The dark-skinned Slytherin asked them, somewhat-surprised- clearly he didn’t know as much about his childhood friend Pansy as he thought he did.

“ Of course we do,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes again.  “‘Mione grew up watching the saddle club and got her parents to agree to lessons, and I’m an upper-class British white girl.”  She ripped the tack out of his hands and threw the saddle expertly onto Ginny’s back.  “The elastic part of the girth goes on the left, by the way.  And don’t you dare puff out,” she told Ginny.  “You’re human, so I’m gonna skip the irritating bullshit of tightening in stages.”

“Should have just bet twenty galleons and gone bareback,” Hermione sighed as she finished straightening the chin shank.  

“Ah well- good luck, tough guy,”  Pansy gave Ginny’s rump a good pat before she left Blaise to try to figure out how to get on.  Mia eventually took pity on him and gave him a leg up, and Christmas ended with the glorious image of Blaise landing on his face in the snow within the first thirty seconds as Ginny bucked him off almost immediately.

Chapter Text

Harry drifted off to sleep on the couch, book on his chest, mouth hanging open, half-finished cup of tea next to him, holding the white cat Draco’d gotten him the previous summer, like he did every night.

“Aww- hic, what a- hic - sweetheart,” Minnie giggled drunkenly as she watched him sleep.  “I should take him up to bed.”

“Let me do it,” Severus argued, “you’re rather tipsy.”  Normally, in the presence of all these… people… he would have gotten drunk too, but even though Harry did the injections twice a week and had never had a serious adverse reaction, he wanted to be of a sound mind in case anything changed.  So it was with a steady gait that he picked the small, lightweight teen up and cradled him to his chest.

“Hmmmnmmmmnums,” Harry mumbled in his sleep, subconsciously curling closer to the warm body holding him.  His dark little hands clutched Snape’s new jumper tightly (and yes, he was still wearing it- it was warm, comfortable, and expertly crafted, so bugger off).

“Such a cuddle-bug, that one,” Minerva cooed, softly stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“Stop it woman, you’ll wake him up with your fumbling and bumbling about,” he growled at her as Harry stirred slightly before snoring softly again and burrowing his face more deeply into Severus’ sweater.  The potion master’s traitorous fingers reached up to gently stroke Harry’s hair, so he turned to take the teen upstairs before he could see the tabby animagus’ infuriating knowing smirk.

Sev took Harry up and into Draco’s bedroom and tucked him in, and since he was so deeply asleep that he wouldn’t notice, he put a monitoring charm on the teen as well, just in case he had a bad reaction to his injection during the night or anything else went wrong.  He went to turn and leave, but he noticed that Harry’s right hand had slipped out from under the blankets, the tattooed scar from the blood quill stark against the white sheets. The Slytherin tiptoed back over and gently (so gently that few would believe it of him) tucked the errant appendage back under the duvet before throwing an extra fluffy blanket over him.

“Good night, brat,” he whispered softly as he shut the light off and headed back downstairs.  He allowed himself one cup of warm spiced wine as the other children came in from their late-night snowball fight (thank Merlin Harry had fallen asleep before they’d gotten the idea, or he would have wanted to go, which would have worried Minnie and Severus due to the coldness and wetness of the weather and the thinness and smallness of Harry).

“Your boyfriend is asleep in your bed,” he told his godson as Draco shook snow out of his hat.

“He’s sleeping pretty deeply,” the blonde laughed.  “I can’t even sense any dreaming on his end. Just-” he made a flat-line motion with his hand to show how completely unconscious Harry was.

“I think he’s got the right idea- all this… social activity,” he made a face as he said the words, “is exhausting.”

“Night, ya cranky bastard,” Regulus hiccupped, sloshing eggnog all over the table as he waved his cup.

“Wonder if there’s a formula that’ll tell us how hungover we’ll be tomorrow,” Cygnus slurred, reaching to refill his wine glass but going cross-eyed and ending up pouring the alcohol onto the empty plate next to his cup.

“I think the answer to that,” Sirius took a moment to burp into his hand and pound on his chest, “is really fuckin smashed .”

“Touché,” Bill agreed, a few red strands spilling out of his ponytail.

“I’ll leave some hangover potions in the medicine cabinet in the entry hall bathroom,” the potions master told them, rolling his eyes.

“Thanks mate- I’ve got work tomorrow,” the oldest Weasley son told him gratefully.

“Same,” Narcissa seconded.  “But even drunk, I’d still do better than Fudge.”

“Fudge’s bowler hat would be better than Fudge,” Tonks rolled her eyes as she munched on another Christmas cookie.  “Right mum?” She turned to Andromeda, but the normally-dignified woman was passed out, forehead flat against the table.

“Lightweight, your mum,” Ted coughed, looking like he wasn’t too far off from joining her in the ‘passed out drunk’ category.  “Having kids really reduces your tolerance.”

“Da, I’m 24 years old ,” Tonks sighed.  “You can’t use that excuse anymore.”

“I will use it if I want to, because Luke, I am your father.”

“I’m Tonks, da, and you’ve had enough,” Tonks laughed, pulling the pint away from her father.

“Shhhh, don’t steal my drink or I will wack you with my lightsaber.”

“That’s your wand, da, and we’re wizards, not jedi.  Time for bed now.” She threw her drunk and silly father over her shoulder and started to take him to his guest room.

[In the absence of his boyfriend, Harry had balled the blankets into a human-sized cuddle partner, so Draco had to very carefully maneuver them out of the way so he could get into bed.  Upon his entry, Harry immediately koala-latched onto him.]

Minerva eventually dragged herself to bed and threw her nightgown on before crashing against the pillows.  She sank into slumber to find a familiar pair of deep green eyes staring at her, but the face they were a part of was far too white to be her son’s.

“Lily?” she gasped, taking in the deep red waves coming down to the woman’s waist.  The gentle curve of her cheekbones and her elegant tapered fingers were the same as Harry’s as well, although people usually missed those at first when confronted with the many more obvious features of James’.  The angelic curve and plumpness of her full cupid’s-bow lips had also been unswervingly passed down to her son, however, so Minerva was strongly reminded of her little Harry when the redhead smiled at her.

“Hey- I know Harry told you we figured out how to enter dreams now, so I thought I’d pay a visit to the woman who’s been taking such good care of my baby,” Lily told her, reaching out gently to put a hand on the older woman’s arm.

“It… it’s so good to see you again,” Minerva sniffed, dispensing formalities to wrap her old student in a warm, enveloping hug.

“I’ve missed you, professor,” Lily laughed as she returned the embrace.

“Please- none of that professor nonsense- call me Minerva, or Minnie- like Harry does.  Like you used to, back in the day…” Minerva softly touched her hair.

“I… it’s been a while, huh?” the younger woman chuckled, a little sadly.

“Too long,” Minnie agreed.  “Not a day’s gone by when I haven’t thought about you- and Harry, before I finally got to take him in… I worried so, but Albus said… said that he was safe… and I was fool enough to take him at his word…”

“You cannot blame yourself,” Lily told her sternly.  “The fault lies with him- we did everything we could, put so many backups in place so he wouldn’t end up there… you were one of them, if for some reason Sirius or the Longbottoms couldn’t take him.  But Dumbledore ignored our will, the instructions we’d written… it’s not your fault that Harry was hurt. Albus Dumbledore knew what he was doing, knew he was ignoring our instructions, but he just had to do what he thought was best.  I’m just glad that you found out the truth and took care of everything.”

“I… I feel like I could have done so much more, done better… as a teacher, as a… as a mother…”

“We did the best we could, both of us,” Lily sighed.  “But we were just two mothers in the middle of a war- what could we do against the combined stupidity of Voldemort, Albus, and the ministry?”

“I… we did the best we could with protecting Harry, but it wasn’t enough then- what if it isn’t enough in the coming war… what if we’re not enough to keep that poor child from suffering any more?”

Lily looked Minerva in the eye and gripped her hand tightly.  “We have to believe we will be- we have to make it so we will be.  And come hell or highwater, we will be.. I’m not letting our son suffer anymore…”

[Hermione reads under the covers with a flashlight.]

Severus was having a peaceful, dreamless sleep when he felt himself suddenly jerked through the languorous, foggy dimension he’d so placidly sunk into not an hour before.  Rubbing the eyes of his dream-self, he groggily looked up and groaned theatrically as he caught sight of Remus and Sirius.

Interesting, this, Julian’s voice rang in his head, and oh… suddenly he also had a visible incarnation in this space of somnambulance.  

Annoying, this, Severus grumbled back.   I was resting nicely, for once.

“Pip, pip, cheerio,” Sirius said, still a bit tipsy, waving goofily at them with the hand that wasn’t holding Remus’.

“Why am I here ?” Severus demanded, unamused.

“Hell if I know,” the Black lord shrugged, looking around at the plain but comfortable sitting room they found themselves in.  “But I call the armchair.”

“Oops, too late,” Severus smirked at him.  “As I’m still in charge of all my faculties and thus was able to take it by the time you’d wobbled to a standing position.”

“Oh, bugger off- you’re only sober because you wanted to keep an eye on Harry,” the dog animagus flipped him off.

“The point is,” Snape deflected, dancing around the observation, “however it came about, I’m in the chair, and you are not.”  

“Good eye, that,” James Potter suddenly popped into the center of the room, and a couple extra armchairs appeared for the rest of them.  “Anyway, I can do this whole ‘dream entry’ thing, and Lily-flower’s busy paying a visit to good old Minnie McG, mum to mum, so I thought we’d have a boys night.  Woulda brought Reg and Cygnus, but they’re both far too smashed to know which way is up.”

“Hm, perhaps I should have gotten drunk, then…” Severus japed under his breath.

“Oh, c’mon Sev- don’t be like that,” James teased.  “Not when I finally get a chance to meet your boyfriend in person.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sev snapped.  “He’s my… Julian…”

“Ah yes, very common possession, I am,” the other man quipped.  “Not a boyfriend, but I’m in your head- everyone’s got one of those.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Severus dramatically rolled his eyes so far up it was almost disturbing.

“I will remind you again that most of our communication is through a mental bond and therefore not spoken.”

“Ugh!” Severus banged his head back against the cushions of the headrest behind him.

“So anyway…” James broke in, “I’m really happy to see you in person- well, as close to in person as we can get… I wanted to apologise in person for the way we treated you in school.  I mean, I know Remy and Pads already did, and Pettigrew,” he spat the name, “has even bigger things to apologise for at this point.  But I just wanted you to know, hearing it from my mouth, that I shouldn’t have treated you that way.  Even if you could be a right git,” he couldn’t resist adding.

“We were all annoying little prats at one point or another, I suppose… but nonetheless, I… appreciate … your apology.  Perhaps even,” he shuddered, “accept it.”

“Good to know,” James laughed.  “Good to know.”

Chapter Text

“Shhh, watch this,” Pansy whispered to the others about a week after they got back from break.  They were all hanging in the common room, and Harry was in his animagus form on Draco’s lap, chewing on a toy mouse.  The Slytherin girl pulled out a laser pointer and subtly showed it to Ginny, Luna, Fred, George, Milly, and Hermione, who were all huddled in the same circle of bean bag chairs.

“Stop laughing- you’ll ruin it!” Ginny chided George and Fred, who were having a hard time keeping their giggles quiet.  Before Draco could look over and notice them plotting something, Pansy turned it on and moved her hands so the red dot was placed right in front of the little kitten with the lightning scar, who caught sight of it immediately and pounced.  Soon, Pansy had him bounding all over the room, chasing the light as she moved it all over the floor and even up the walls (Harry trying to claw his way up the bricks to catch it was adorable, right up to the mew of fury as he was almost there before she moved it again).  Kids from all houses hanging out with their Gryffindor friends laughingly dodged as Harry, a slave to his feline instincts, bounded through their study groups, board games, and knitting circles.  

“Oh no!” Lavender squealed as Harry ended right in the middle of their pile of makeover supplies.  “Look what you’ve done Pans- the poor wittle kitty is covered in nail polish!” Harry, indeed, was covered in Neville’s special all-natural Pure Herbology Nail Polish™ (when Neville had started experimenting with the harvests of his little garden in Greenhouse 3, the girls had immediately recruited him to start working on cruelty-free, natural beauty products, and Neville had to admit he thought it was really fun.  Snape had even given him extra credit in potions class on the condition he told no one about it). His fur was dripping with sparkly purple polish, which only spread around as he tried to wipe it off with his paws.

“Aww, poor baby,” Parvati agreed, lifting Harry up.  “We’ve gotta get it off before it dries.” Kitten Harry did not like baths like human Harry, and he meowed angrily and swiped at the wand currently rinsing him with a warm augmenti charm.

“Towel,” the Indian girl instructed her girlfriend when she’d finished, and Lavender passed her a soft fluffy terry-cloth that Parvati ran along Harry’s wet fur.  When dry, it immediately puffed out, and the two finished it off with a sprinkle of baby powder before handing him back to Draco.

“That is not funny, Pansy,” Harry complained as he transformed back, wiping baby powder out of his now very floofy hair.  “You know I can’t resist the pretty lights when I’m in my animagus form!”

“I know,” she exclaimed, now collapsed on the floor from laughter, the laser still clutched in her hand (turned off, thankfully).  “That’s why I did it!”

“I vow revenge!” Harry declared,  trying in vain to flatten his hair.  “Your animagus is a cat too, Pansy- remember that.”

“Good luck catching me Sparky- good luck,” Pansy merely laughed, summoning one of Lav’s nail files to work on her own manicure.

[Charlie sends his mother pictures of dragon eggs with the caption “expecting more of your grandkids.”]

Poppy was instructing Regulus on the proper method of handling a panic attack in a student when a first-year Hufflepuff walked in, looking a bit peaky.

“What can we do for you, luv?” Regulus leaned down so he was at eye-level with the sick little girl, who coughed into her elbow.

“I don’t feel so good,” she said, pulling a lock of sweaty flaxen hair away from her face.

“Alright, let’s just get you up here and run a diagnostic charm and we’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy, yeah?” Regulus spoke gently, taking her hand and leading her to the nearest bed.  He performed the charm easily and fluently, but his eyebrows scrunched together as he read the results.

“Poppy,” he called, careful not to let worry seep into his voice, “could you come do this, just to double-check?”

“Your work looked fine to me, but if you’d like me to check, of course I will,” the healer agreed, waving her own wand to perform the charm.

“Hmm,” her eyebrows also wrinkled worriedly, but she managed to keep her rising panic in check.  “Whooping cough- that can’t be right, sweetheart- because you would have had that vaccination already, yeah?”

The girl’s cheeks reddened as she looked down.  “No, I haven’t,” she mumbled into her robes. “My parents don’t believe in getting all my jabs, and I didn’t have any say in it.”

“Well, that will have to be addressed in a conversation with your parents, but in the meantime, we might be looking at an outbreak,” Poppy looked nervously at Reg.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”  Cornflower-blue eyes looked up nervously at them.

“That’s alright… I’m sorry dear- what’s your name?” Poppy asked the child.

“Isabelle, ma’am.”

“Isabelle- that’s pretty.  Well, Isabelle, it wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t do anything.  And once you’re feeling better, we’ll go ahead and have a talk with your parents about getting all your vaccinations so this doesn’t happen again,” Regulus told her while Poppy took her temperature.

“I don’t think they’ll listen to you- am I gonna have to leave Hogwarts?” Isabelle asked anxiously.

“Oh, we’ll take care of it- things work a little differently here, and you can’t just not get a magical education, because that would mean your magic could act up if you couldn’t control it, so don’t worry about that.  Worst case scenario, we’ll have to get you a magical guardian to handle all your schooling-related decisions, but everything will be alright, okay?  Now, I have a question, and I need you to think very carefully, alright?”
“Okay,” Isabelle the Hufflepuff looked significantly more relieved now that she’d been told she wouldn’t have to leave Hogwarts.

“We’re going to have to look at the records and see if anyone’s behind on their booster shots for whooping cough, and to do diagnostic charms and quarantine any cases for those who’ve caught it, but I need you to tell me if you’ve had any close contact with Harry Potter,” Poppy told her in a serious voice.

“Uh, he said hi to me last week, when I accidentally bumped him in the hall, and he asked if I liked it at Hogwarts…” Isabelle trailed off.

“Shit,” Regulus turned to Poppy, who didn’t bother to shut him.  “Should I go to the common room and bring him in for a scan- there’s very little chance he didn’t get it,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair as Cygnus did his best to soothe him through their bond.

Harry actually made going to get him unnecessary as he just then ambled in, trailed by Draco.

“Uh, Uncle Reg, Aunt Poppy?” he ventured, his voice rather raspy.  “I don’t feel so great…”

“He really feels awful,” Draco clarified, able to tell through the bond that his boyfriend was sick.

He looked awful too- his face was flushed and far paler than normal, skin taking on its typical illness shade of weak tea, and sweat was beading on his forehead.  He was trembling slightly, and Poppy cursed inwardly as she went to feel his forehead- burning up. She ran a precautionary diagnostic charm, but she knew what the results would be before they even showed up, and she was right.

“Whooping cough,” she sighed.  “Let’s get you to bed.” She picked him up and carried him to his special bedroom, ignoring his weak protests.

“Isn’t that extinct?” Draco asked worriedly, eyes tracking Harry’s form in Madam Pomfrey's arms.

“Mostly,” Regulus told him, “but lately there have been some parents who decide not to vaccinate their kids.”  He was whispering quietly so Isabelle wouldn’t feel bad about the fact that her parents made bad decisions. “Don’t worry, though- it’s not fatal, and Harry will be fine.  He’ll just have to stay in bed for a few weeks and we’ll have him good as new.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Draco’s eyes were hard steel as he looked his cousin directly in the face.  “I can feel through the bond how he is, so it’ll only be worse if you sugar-coat it.”

“He’ll probably feel pretty crappy for a while, but he’s in no ultimate danger, and we’ll be keeping a really close eye on him,” the swan animagus promised the teen.  “It would really be a big help if you could run and get Severus for me.”

[Kreacher feels little master’s sickness through the bond and rushes to his side to help care for him.]

Of the fifteen students, all first and second years, who were late on getting their booster shots, only seven had actually been in close enough contact with Isabelle to come down with the illness, but including Harry, that left nine ill students, and Harry would surely need more intensive one-on-one care as the disease progressed.

We spend hundreds of years dying from awful diseases, only to finally come up with solutions that are able to almost completely eradicate fatal epidemics, and now people decide to ignore them?! Severus ranted to Julian through their bond as he brewed cauldrons-full of cough-suppressant and fever-reducing potions, carefully separating the ingredients for Harry’s from those of the others, as he required different dosages due to his immune disease.

I know- it’s disgusting, really.  Vaccines causing autism? What kind of bullshit is that- and even if they did, wouldn’t it be better having an autistic child than a dead one?! The blonde responded.

One would think- but now, here I am, working double-time because of some dumb parenting craze.  No- not just dumb- dangerous!  What if it had been something more serious, or Harry wasn’t on a semi-successful treatment programme for his condition- the child relies on herd immunity, Julian- he could have died!   The professor’s voice grew more and more frantic as he moved onto talking about Harry, until the knife he’d been using to cut ingredients slipped and he nearly sliced his hand open.

Severus- I agree with you, but you’re spiralling- deep breaths and take a calming draught so you can help , before you ruin anymore murtlap tentacles, Julian told him, voice stern but quiet and soft.

You’re right, you’re right, Sev conceded as he downed the potion and waited for his hands to stop shaking.

I’m concerned by how non-sarcastically you said that- give me an hour, Julian told him.

No, wait!  What are you planning- you need to be careful! Severus yelled in his mind, but the other man was already occluding, so he could only catch fleeting feelings.

Severus was worried (not that he would admit it) but Julian felt calm through the bond, so that enabled him to rein in his emotions and keep brewing.  After 55 minutes, the floo flared to life, and Julian stepped through. Severus dropped the empty phial he was holding, and it shattered noisily as he looked at his soulmate, wiping soot out of his hair.

“What are you doing here- it’s not safe!” Severus scolded loudly, his voice cracking at the end, much to his dismay.

“Shh- I’m fine- I used polyjuice to look like a muggle, took three unregistered portkeys, did four different apparitions, and floo’ed here from Grimmauld Place, which is untraceable to anyone who wasn’t told the location by the secret keeper, so I’m as safe as can possibly be,” the American assured him, sending calming feelings through the bond.  “Now let’s get to work, so I can help you get all this brewing done and you can get a few hours rest before you run yourself ragged taking care of Harry.”

“You- you still shouldn’t have come…” Severus scolded.  “What if something had gone wrong? And the use of so many portkeys just to come help me with some basic brewing is ludicr-”

He didn’t get a chance to say any more as he found himself suddenly wrapped up in muscular arms, with Julian’s firm hands patting his back.  He struggled slightly with an “oomph!” before eventually giving in and melting into the embrace.

“I’ll always find a way to help you, you big idiot, so just stop arguing with me,” the blonde whispered softly as into Severus’ hair.  “Someone cares about you, you stubborn oaf, and you’re just going to have to accept that.”

Chapter Text

“Shhh, it is going to be being okay, little master,” Kreacher assured, clearly panicking as Harry coughed harshly, wheezing and struggling for breath.  “Just be breathing- it is being fine.”

“I’m,” Harry’s throat emitted the illness’ signature whoop noise as he struggled to inhale before the next bout of coughing, “I-” hack, wheeze, whoop, “I’m-” he hacked again, feeling lightheaded.  “Fine,” he managed eventually, collapsing back against the pillows, exhausted.  “D-don’t worry Kreach,” he rasped, struggling for breath.

“Shhh, here is being a potion for your throat,” Kreacher managed to collect himself somewhat, seeing that his worry was making Harry nervous on his behalf.  “Just be resting while I be calling the batman.” He dabbed the teenager’s face with a cold cloth to try to lower the fever as he popped away to get Severus and Poppy, concerned with Harry’s worsening condition.

“Alright, child- it’s time for the ventilator,” the potions master informed Harry as he pulled the machine from the closet and began setting it up.  “I know you hate it, so we’ve put it off as long as we could, but you’re having more and more trouble breathing on your own and it’s concerning.”

Harry really didn’t have an argument against that, and he was still too out of breath to sigh, so his fever-clouded green eyes merely displayed disappointed resignation as Severus very gently placed the mask on his face and adjusted the straps so that they were as non-obtrusive as possible.

“See how much better that is?” Severus prompted softly as the air whirred from the machine into Harry’s lungs.  “Just rest now.” He tenderly ran the tips of his fingers through Harry’s curls, gingerly working through the tangles.  The sounds of coughing and grumbling children came from outside in the main hospital wing, and Severus firmly patted Harry’s back as he launched into another fit.  Thankfully, this one didn’t last as long, and the machine enabled him to catch his breath faster, which in turn reduced the quantity of Kreacher’s nervous hand-wringing.

“I’m just going to put your IV in, alright?” Severus told the sick teenager, looking so small curled up into the middle of the bed.  “We need keep you hydrated.” Harry gave him a weak thumbs-up to let the man know he appreciated it as the IV was slipped in as softly as possible.

“Thank you Batman,” the wizened house elf told him as Harry’s eyelids began to flutter, now that he was semi-comfortable.

“Not a problem, Robin.  Thank you for coming to get me when you did.”  Kreacher proudly puffed out his chest at the nickname (because of course he read comic books and knew what it meant- if little master liked something, he wanted to learn as much as he could about it so he would be familiar with all of precious sweet Harry’s interests).  Severus turned to Harry, feeling his forehead one last time. “I have to go teach a class now, alright? Kreacher will get Poppy or Reg if you need anything he can’t get you, and Draco will come by as soon as the school day ends,” he told him- Harry was very nearly asleep, but his lips quirked into a soft smile at the mention of Draco’s name.  He gave Severus’ hand a feeble squeeze before the professor stepped away from the bed.

“Sleep well, little one,” he sighed fondly as Harry’s eyes finally closed all the way.  “Sleep well.”

[Draco feel’s Harry fall asleep and breathes a sigh of relief that he’s doing a little better- it’s only been four days, but they’ve been so nerve-wracking, and he’s also tired from occluding his anxiety from his boyfriend so it won’t interfere with Harry’s recovery.  He’s glad that today Poppy’s finally allowing him a visit.]

Hey, Draco’s loving voice in Harry’s head was like a warm blanket through this awful illness, and coupled with finally being able to see him, he felt better and more cared for immediately, even though nothing about his physical condition had changed.  His tired brain slowly caught up to his eyes, and he shot a questioning look at his soulmate, who had a stuffed animal version of what looked like a large, brown, fluffy duckling in his pale hands.

Whastha? He soporifically murmured into Draco’s mind, grateful that the bond allowed them to communicate even with the ventilator keeping him from speaking out loud.

I wasn’t sure what to bring you to make you feel better, Draco’s hands squeezed the plushie toy anxiously, but I know Poppy won’t let you have your cat in the hospital wing cos of the germs and stuff, and since you had whooping cough, I thought you might like a whooping crane to keep you company when I’m away.  

He was rewarded with Harry’s chapped lips smiling at him as a soft chuckle filled his head, brushing against him like silk.   I love it- I’ll hold it and you’ll hold me?

Of course, my love.  Draco placed the plushie in Harry’s arms, adjusting it until it was comfortably ensconced, since Harry couldn’t move his left hand with the IV in it.  Then he crawled in the bed on the other side, pulling the quilt over him as he spooned the darker teen, gently rubbing his shoulders as he moved in closer and closer, until he felt Harry’s contentment and feelings of safety and comfort.

I love you, Harry filled his entire being with fondness as Draco held him.   So much.   He coughed again, but with Draco rubbing his back and shoving his own anxiety back to fill Harry’s head with soothing thoughts, it didn’t feel as long as the others, even though it lasted over a minute.

I know- and I love you too, and I’ll never ever leave, the blonde promised as he felt Harry’s raspy breathing through their contact, his hand loosely around the pulse point on his boyfriend’s wrist to reassure himself.

I won’t either, you know that, Harry soothed.   Tell me a story?

You know all my stories; we share a mind, Draco laughed as he moved a stray curl off Harry’s neck so he could place a gentle kiss in the same spot.

Tell me anyway?  The one with the fountain of fair fortune, but where everyone’s gay?   Harry’s skin was warm against Draco’s lips, his neck, his arms, his hands, but that just meant he was alive, Draco reassured himself- even if he was too warm, at least it wasn’t too cold.  And there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

Chapter Text

Two weeks after the whooping cough outbreak, and everyone was out of the hospital wing except for Harry, who was still very much in the thick of the illness and rather cranky.  He still had the ventilator helping him breathe, so he couldn’t quite complain out loud, even if he did have the breath to do so in between coughing fits, but his eyes said it all.  That and the way he had his arms crossed over his chest and glared (rather ineffectively, i.e. adorably) at all the adults trying to take pictures of him while ‘cheering him up.’  Draco’s voice in his head was a comfort, at least, but he missed hanging out with his friends as a group.

On the bright side, unable to talk to anyone except for Draco, he’d gotten better with his sign language (although since his left hand was still attached to an IV line, he had to be careful, and there was some guesswork involved on the other person’s part in interpretation), as was proven when Minnie came in to check on him, putting a new comic book on the nightstand.

“ Mama- camera away,” his hands told her as he gave her a look.   “And thanks,” he continued, pointing at the comic book.

“Of course, darling.” She ruffled her grumpy son’s hair, but not before she snapped just one more picture.  She helped him to a sitting position and pat his back gently as he was seized by another coughing fit, feeling rather bad for her poor baby.

“Want out,” he signed morosely, giving her a good shot of his sad emerald eyes.

“I know, sweetheart.  I know,” she squeezed his shoulder softly.  “But on the bright side, I’ve gotten Poppy to agree to let all your friends get together here for a couple hours.”  His face brightened as he smiled at her.

“Happy,” his hands moved, a little shakily from illness, but he was clearly much cheered.  “Thanks mama- love you.”

“Love you too, little one,” she kissed him on the forehead.

“Not little,” he signed, but he was clearly resigned to the fact that nobody believed him.  Thankfully, he was saved from his mother’s disbelieving look when his friends streamed in.

“Golden boy!” Pansy cheered, kissing him on the cheek and rearranging his blankets.  “We missed you.”

“You too,” he told her before he rearranged his crane plushie.  

Draco! He cheered, brightening considerably.   C’mere , his right hand patted the bed beside him.

So many benefits to being in love with you, the blonde laughed as he crawled into the comfortable pillow top mattress (it wasn’t standard issue in the hospital wing, but Harry spent so much time there Poppy wanted him as comfortable as possible) and the rest of the students fought over the one armchair before Pansy won and the rest of them settled for floor cushions.

“So, what should we do?” Ginny asked, laying her legs across Luna’s lap.

“Oh!  Don’t even get me started!” Pansy squealed.

“Don’t even get you started on vhat?” Viktor asked, somewhat trepidatiously, stroking Ron’s hair as the redhead leaned into his chest.

“No, it’s a new game we play,” Hannah explained to him, before Pansy could come up with a sarcastically non-helpful answer.  “We just found it a couple days ago, but basically it works like this- we come up with a random topic and the person whose turn it is has to go on an angry rant about it.”

No wonder Pansy likes it, then, Harry snorted to Draco.   She loves any excuse to get angry and rant about things.  

She does, Draco agreed.   Which is why she goes first.  

“Alright, so what’s the topic?” Pansy asked, clearly aware that she had the rights to first dibs.

“Um, potatoes?” Susan threw out.

“Oh, I got this one- why do we even eat so many fucking potatoes here?  Like, it gets really boring. Why are British people so fond of potatoes?  I mean, you can do a lot with them, but we don’t even do that!   I mean, shepherd's pie, mashed potatoes, boiled potatoes- none of those are fun things to do with potatoes- like, do we even know what salt is?!  Or like, maybe even pepper, be a little adventurous- but nooooo! Like, you think we’d at least try some other potatoes, like patatas bravas or aloo tikki or something, but we just eat our buttery bland potatoes in their different forms.  And you know what else-”

“Alright, that’s good enough- at least the house elves make a curry or some tamales occasionally, because I’d hate to see a Pansy who was full of only British food,” Blaise snorted.

“You would all die,” the girl told them bluntly.  “Well, except Harry- I could never hurt Harry.”

“He says thank you,” Draco told the girl, because Harry’s right hand was held firmly in his.

“Ok, so you wanna go next, fawn?” Pansy asked, and Harry shrugged one shoulder in an okay, sure kind of gesture, not even bothering to chastise her for the nickname.

“Okay, your topic is… blankets,” she eventually settled on, catching sight of the pile of quilts on top of Harry’s bed.

“Oh boy, now you’ve set him off,” Draco laughed and rolled his eyes.  “Whoa, slow down babe, so my mouth can keep up.”

“That’s what he said last night,” Seamus joked in his thick Irish accent, pointing to Dean, who rolled his eyes and smacked his boyfriend.  Kreacher, too, gave the boy a look to tell him not to say such profane things in front of his little darling master.

“Anyway…” Draco continued, before they could go too far down that road, “Harry enjoys the concepts of blankets in general, but he’s very upset that we all insist on piling him with them, even though he’s always cold and he needs them,” Harry stuck his tongue out at him, or did his best effort at it through the mask, and Draco rolled his eyes again.  “Okay, so I added that bit.  But he’s basically getting worked up into a real rant on how we all smother him and how he’s always stuck in the hospital wing when he, quote, ‘doesn’t need to be,’ even though he most definitely needs to be and he’s secretly touched by how much we love him.”  As if to prove the point about needing to be there, Harry had another coughing fit, and his friends all nervously shifted in their seats as Draco managed to stay calm and rub his back and whisper soft things to him until he finished. Kreacher pulled a jar of vaporub and glamoured his chest so the rest of his friends wouldn’t see his scars as the elf rubbed the gel gently into his skin.

“Thanks,”  Draco told Kreacher on Harry’s behalf.  “He really appreciates how amazing you are.”

“Kreacher is only trying to match the amazingness of little master Harry, even if that is being impossible to do.  Kreacher is lucky to have Little Master Harry.” He rubbed Harry’s scalp gently as the teen smiled at him and gently squeezed the elf’s knobby fingers.

“Aww, Kreach, you’ve put him to sleep,” Ginny complained as Harry’s eyes drifted closed due to the house elf’s gentle ministrations.  “Now we’ll have to watch Star Trek: Next Gen without his witty commentary.”

“Eh, turn it on anyway- it all boils down to gay, gay, and gay again,” Pansy waved a scared hand, unperturbed.  

“That is a good point,” Millie agreed, as Draco pulled a sleeping Harry tenderly to his chest as he kissed his hair.

[Everyone’s eyes gradually fall away from the telly as they watch the adorable spectacle that is Harry sleeping, his hands clutching Draco’s robes, the noise of the ventilator drowned out by the chorus of ‘ awwwww’s’ from their friends.]

Julian and Sev were taking shift on guard duty that night- Voldemort was sick again and thus surely wouldn’t call a death eater meeting, and with Kreacher busy taking care of Harry and thus not taking on any guard shifts, they could use the extra help.  The Department of Mysteries was also a fairly safe place for Julian to be, and he’d done the usual convoluted journey to get there. That didn’t mean Severus was happy about him risking it, but that’s why he was also insisting on taking a shift even though he had a strong compulsion to go check on Harry.  He nervously ran a finger along the bracelet Harry’d made him recently, which he’d charmed with a good luck spell.  Severus didn’t have any mage senses, but even knowing that Harry’s magical signature clung to the bit of woven cord made him feel a bit better, and along with Julian’s calming presence in his mind, he managed to hold himself back from pacing up and down.

You worry a lot, you know, the blonde man told him as he rested casually against the wall, muscular arms crossed in front of his toned chest.

Really- I had no idea, Severus huffed out loud during the mental conversation.   It’s not like I am rather familiar with my own head or anything, or that I have a stressful life.  

Such a snarkeluffagus, Julian rolled his eyes and chuckled softly.

A what? Severus quirked an eyebrow at him.

Sorry- Snuffaluffagus is a Sesame Street character.  I used to sneak to the Muggle rec center to watch it, since my parents didn’t have a tv or anything else fun to play with. Severus felt a wave of bitterness from Julian towards his dead parents.

Oh- I… never really watched that- my father didn’t allow television, and by the time I made friends with Lily we were watching things like M*A*S*H and All in the Family and such, he told the blonde, chewing his lip a little awkwardly.

Families are… rough things, huh? Julian stepped a little closer to Severus.   Sometimes you’ve just gotta make your own.

Mmmm, Severus agreed, twisting his fingers together and occluding a little part of his mind so he could safely let his brain go into overdrive.  This was… they were alone together, and talking about… emotions.   He shuddered.

Sev- you okay? Julian prompted.   You suddenly just went quiet on me, but I can feel your anxiety.

Oh god oh god oh gods oh gods how do I get him to shut up? Severus panicked, but he’d let Julian a little too far in and he heard it.

Why do you want me to shut up?  We’re not even talki-

Severus grabbed Julian by the shoulders, pushed him back against the wall, and kissed him.  He couldn’t have said what he was doing or why, but for the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking about it.  And alright- he’d never really… kissed anyone before, or had any romantic interaction with anyone at all, and Julian clearly… well, Julian clearly had, and Severus wasn’t used to being the one with less experience in a situation.  His lips felt stiff and awkward, like his hands as they clutched Julian’s robes.  He tried moving his hand up to the other man’s shoulder, and he had the irksome realisation that his shoulders and back were as well-toned as the rest of him, and Severus was excruciatingly aware of his own very average physique.

Shhhh, your mind is so loud , the other shushed him.   Just relax and let me guide you through it.   They were near the doorway at the end of the hall, so Julian reached one hand backwards and turned the knob, gracefully pushing it open as they found themselves in a room covered in shelves full of gently glowing orbs.

Hmmm, prophecies- how pretty.  It’s like we’re under the stars, Julian mused as he slipped his thumb between the other’s lips, prying them open before softly hooking Severus’ lower lip in his teeth.

What’re you- what are you doing? Black eyes widened as Julian pushed the other potions master against back shelf.   We… we should not be doing that here.

Relax, luv- only the people the prophecies concern can even touch them, and the shelves are fixed with tonnes of protection charms.  Now just… he put a one hand on Severus’ shoulder, bunching the collars of his robe, and the other on his waist.

Slow down- you’re overthinking it, Julian’s five o’ clock shadow tickled the professor’s chin as he worked on getting Severus to relax, keeping the kiss soft and slow.

I… okay, Severus Snape had, wonder of wonders, run out of things to say.  He steadily came to awareness of his own body and forced himself to unclench his jaw.  And then… wow.   His knees buckled a bit, and he grappled for the shelves as the bracelet Harry made him brushed against one of the prophecy orbs, knocking it down.  Much to their surprise, it wobbled on the platform before falling to the ground and shattering, filling the room with a light grey fog as what was unmistakably Sybill Trelawney's voice began floating around them, and Severus felt unsettled in his bones.  This… he’d heard this, part of it… a long time ago- the night he- the night he started to change for the better.

" The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies... "

Severus turned anxiously, looking at the empty platform.  That was it… S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.  This was the prophecy that had gotten Lily and James killed, that had ruined Harry’s life… the one that he’d… and it said that one of them had to…

His knees buckled completely as he collapsed, caught by Julian, who had heard Severus’ entire maelstrom of panicked thoughts.

“Shhh, it’s alright- that was years ago- you’ve changed so much since then.  Harry doesn’t blame you, you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“I… that’s not even… but Harry… danger,” the dark-haired man gasped weakly.

“It’s just divination- it’s so imprecise and we won’t let Harry get hurt.  It’s not important what it says.  We won’t let him anywhere near that monster again.”

“But Dumbledore would have,” Severus’ voice grew hard and sharp as he pulled himself up.   “This was what he was guarding- and he didn’t want us to know- he would have forced Harry into battle any way he could.  The bastard- he- I’m actually going to kill him .”

“Shhh- it’s not worth getting in trouble over him- we’ll let Kreacher handle him.  If we can even find the bastard, that is- I haven’t seen him since Halloween,” Julian mused as he rubbed his chin.

“I… oh, Harry…” Sev put his head in his hands.  “What if we can’t protect him?”

“Shhh,” Julian lifted Severus’ chin upwards, so black eyes met electric blue.  “We will protect him- always. ”

Chapter Text

You go update Minerva, Severus ordered Julian as they reached the castle after what felt like the longest roundabout route of his life.   I need… I need to go see him, to know that he’s okay.  

Alright, Julian agreed, wanting to make his soulmate (that he just kissed right before a tiny glass bomb shattered its way into their lives) as comfortable as possible.  Severus merely nodded and took off running towards the hospital wing.

Harry looked the same as he had that evening when Severus had checked on him before his guard shift.  His breathing was a little rattled, he was still pale and feverish and clearly sick, but he was alive and he was there.   The potions master collapsed into the armchair by his bed, nearly shaking in his relief.  It was unreasonable that he had been so worried, he knew, because Harry was well guarded (even now Kreacher was asleep on a pile of blankets on the floor next to Harry’s bed, which Harry didn’t know he was doing or else he would have insisted that he either share his own bed or go home for a good night’s sleep).  The IV drip was still securely taped to one little hand as the other clutched his whooping crane, and the ventilator mask showed no signs of being disturbed either. Under it, Harry’s lips had a heart-meltingly sweet little smile as his eyes fluttered underneath the lids, signs he was having a pleasant dream.

On his chest was a well-thumbed copy of Advanced Potion-Making, each recipe in the next year’s curriculum already carefully highlighted and annotated, even the Draught of Living Death, which he couldn’t even make due to his wormwood allergy.  It moved up and down with each congested breath the teen took, and Severus took the textbook, carefully bookmarked the page Harry’d been on, and laid it on the night table, banishing the empty potions phials from Harry’s dinnertime regimen so there’d be room for it.  He let out his own shuddered breath as his heart slowly stopped thumping quite so hard, and he delicately ran a thumb along Harry’s hand, needing to have some sort of contact with his nephew so there was no mistaking that he was really there. Harry sniffed and let out a short cough before his breathing evened out a bit and his sleep deepened, his tendency to grab and latch onto anything nearby when he was sleeping meaning that Severus found his wrist gripped quite tightly, but he’d had no plans of leaving anyway, so it was no great inconvenience.  He very carefully adjusted the IV needle so it would be more secure before he let his head fall back against the headrest of his chair. He’d just begun his own descent into a fitful, anxious sleep when Minerva and Julian came in.

“I- is it true, Severus?” Minerva asked, more out of disbelief and anger than out of any doubt in what the other had told her.

“I’m afraid so, yes,” he whispered.  “I’d only ever caught the beginning, back when… well, you know.” He stroked a thumb along Harry’s thin wrist as he took a deep breath and Julian reminded him to relax.  “I… I cannot believe that Dumbledore… well, I can, but I just… didn’t quite see this coming, and maybe I should have. But he’s a child,” he hissed through clenched teeth, barely noticing the leftover taste of Julian’s mouthwash from earlier that night- it seemed so long ago already.

“I know,” Minerva sighed.  “We searched the castle for him, but he’s not here- he must be off on one of his insane ‘missions.’”

“Perhaps it’s best,” Julian nodded sagely.  “We wouldn’t want to act rashly and do something we’d regret- well, maybe not regret,” he added at the other two’s disbelieving faces that said quite clearly that they could tear the old man to pieces and regret nothing, “but that would get us arrested.”

“I… I was going to sleep here tonight, but I can see you’ve already got the chair,” the tabby animagus didn’t respond to Julian’s statement, but rather turned to Severus.  “I’ll just got catch a few hours in my own quarters (she ended up going to Harry’s bedroom and falling asleep on top of his bed, the smell of his pumpkin shampoo and his lavender laundry detergent and the pervasive hint of broom polish that always accompanied her son calming her down enough to slip into unconsciousness).

“I’ve got to get back to my flat as well,” the other man in the room added.  When Severus nodded, Julian stood there for a moment, apprehensive, then he quickly leaned down and gave Sev a quick peck on the lips before turning and walking away, into the moonlit darkness of the main hospital wing and then to the apparation point on the hill.

[Neville can’t sleep, so, tentatively, he pads to his parents’ quarters, and they pull him into their bed and hold him until he falls asleep, like they did so long ago, like they should have all along.]

Severus eventually drifted back out, his head lolling against his shoulder as Harry continued to hold his wrist tightly.  Oddly enough, he felt his eyes opening again, looking straight into…

“Lily!” he gasped, scrambling back and tripping over the hem of his robes as his old friend conjured a chair for him to fall into.

“Sevvy,” she smiled softly at him.  “It’s been too long.”

“Oh gods, first Pansy, now you,” the bat animagus groaned at the accursed nickname.

“Never mind your very suitable moniker, you finally kissed him!” she squealed as she grabbed hold of her best friend’s wrist.

“Yes, I suppose I did…” then he remembered that he technically hadn’t talked to her since before she’d died and his face paled.  “Oh Merlin- Lily, I’m so sorry!” Only Harry had been able to bring tears to his eyes since just after Lily had died, but now that she was here again, facing him, he found one working its way down his cheek and dripping down off the tip of his nose.

“Oh, just shut up with that- I’ve known it for a while.  I’ve kept an eye on you, you know.” She suddenly punched him in the arm, and Severus’ eyes widened slightly.

“That’s for being such an arse to my son his first year.”  Then she hugged him tightly. “And that’s for taking such good care of him the last four.”

The man didn’t quite seem to know what to do with such quick turnaround, but he eventually patted her back awkwardly.  “Um… Dumbledore?” he eventually managed to squeeze out of his tight throat. “I mean… um, do you know where he is- we need to, uh…”

Lily’s green eyes darkened to the exact shade of a killing curse, her face full of thunder.  “James and I haven’t managed to find him yet, but we will… and you let us take care of him.  Can’t punish the dead.”

“I… alright, I suppose that makes sense, but I still want to kill him,” her childhood friend grumbled.

“Get in line,” Lily told him as she squeezed his hand.  “And speaking of things we want to do, when you wake up, do me a favour and tell Harry his father and I will visit him once he’s feeling better- we didn’t want to risk his recovery by disrupting his rest to enter his dreams.”

“Of course.” Severus gave a single jerky nod.

“You know, I’m proud of you for admitting you have feelings,” the redhead told him with a laugh as Sev’s cheeks lit up like they used to when Lils would tease him when they were children.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, a nervous habit he’d unknowingly picked up from Harry.  “It was that cursed comet.”

“And yet you kissed him first.” She raised her eyebrow at him in an uncanny imitation of his own signature move.  

“I… irrelevant.”

“You know, that’s what love feels like- not whatever you thought we could have had,” Lily told him seriously.  “We were always best friends, Sev- except for those last few years, I suppose- and barring something monumentally stupid on your part, we always will be.  But it wasn’t that kind of love, and I hope you realise that now.  I cared for you, of course, but I was kind of worried, you know, when you developed that little crush.  You never really had someone care about you before, and I… well, I was afraid you’d never be able to interpret your feelings in a healthy way.”

“Brutally honest as always,” Sev said dryly, quirking his lip.  “But yes, I know.”

“Good, now just be this open with Sarah, you clot.” Lilly cuffed him lightly on the ear.

“What is it with you women and your feelings?”

“I will have you know, arsewipe, that James has more ‘feelings’ than I do, so cut the crap and stop avoiding the subject- that you have just as many of the rest of us and think saying something stupid like that will distract your best friend from the fact that you’re emotionally constipated,” Lily told him, wagging a finger sternly.

“I…”

“Thank you Lily,” the woman mimicked.  “You have such wonderful advice, and I will listen to you because you clearly know what’s best for me better than I do.  And speaking of advice,” she continued, looking at him closely.  “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks- your dark circles have dark circles.”

Severus wiped a hand across his forehead, relieved that the subject was off of his emotional health.  “Yes, well you’d look like this too, if the dead required sleep- your poor son is going to give us all a heart attack, despite how hard he tries to make our lives easier.  I swear to Merlin- he had a coughing fit yesterday that was so violent I think I stopped breathing for a moment.”

“You did,” Lily drawled, looking at him impassively.  “I was watching. Still, your heart is still beating, so your worry does more damage than ours.  I’m going to leave now, so you can get to sleep.” She put a finger to his lips before he could protest.  “Love you,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before she turned to leave. “And remember to work on your emotional honesty!”

“Potters,” the man muttered to himself before he slipped back under.  “They’re all going to kill me, one way or the other.”

Chapter Text

After just over four weeks in the hospital wing, Harry was finally well enough to be let out, although he’d lost rather a lot of weight he definitely couldn’t afford to lose.  Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue anxiously as she waved her wand over him.

“Aunt Poppy, can I go now?” Harry asked her, voice still hoarse from all the coughing he’d done over the last few weeks.  “I wanna see Hedwig and my snakes and all my friends and the elves and I wanna move!”

“Just a minute poppet,” she murmured distractedly as she felt his forehead and tucked a curl behind his ear.  “Just let me…” she had him open his mouth so she could look down his throat, then hummed.

“Oh, I suppose I have no real reason to keep you here,” she sighed, “although you do rather look like you’ve been put through the ringer…”

“I’ll be fine, love you,” he said, kissing her on the cheek and hastening out before she changed her mind and decided to keep him another night.

Hedwig flapped down from her perch on a rafter to meet him as soon as he stepped out of the hospital wing, landing on his shoulder.

“Hey girl,” Harry told her fondly, nuzzling her as she cast a worried eye over him.  “Oh, would you relax ?  I’m fine, really.”

She hooted as if she wasn’t entirely convinced but dropped the subject.  Harry hustled to his bedroom, where he was sure he would find the snakes taking their afternoon nap on the big rock by the sunny window.

“Hatchling!” They all woke up immediately and slithered over, and Harry bent down so Du could curl around on his wrist as Sapphire flapped up to perch on his head and Nagini put her large green head on his other shoulder.

“Hey guysssss,” he giggled and rubbed a particularly shiny scale on Nagini’s nose as her forked tongue tickled his cheek.

“You lossssst weight, little one,” she hissed as she cast a critical glance at his cheeks, which had hollowed out over the past couple weeks.

“I know, but I’ll put it back on,” he assured as Minerva popped her head in.

“Poppy let me know she finally finished her checkup, and then I thought I heard you in there,” she said, smiling.  “Welcome home kitten.” He stood up to give her a hug, and she bit back a gasp- she’d visited him regularly, of course, but seeing him up and not covered in blankets, the weight loss was startling.

“I’m fine, mama- really, I’ll put it back on,” he told her.  “And it’s normal to lose some weight when you’ve had whooping cough.”

“Yes, luv- but you don’t really have any weight to lose… thank Merlin Narcissa made that law requiring all vaccines for wizarding children, so at least this won’t happen again.”  She rubbed her thumb softly along the side of his face.

“How’s Isabelle doing- with her parents and everything?” Harry asked her.

“Oh Harry, so sweet of you to worry about her, but everything will work out- they reacted badly, threatened to pull her out of Hogwarts, even, but we had a court order requiring that she receive her vaccines and that she make it at least to her OWL’s so she can control her magic.”

“But they’re not going to… take it out on her?” his green eyes were earnest in their concern, and Minerva felt her heart break for her son yet again.

“No, baby- they’re not.  And if they even tried, well… the court appointed a magical guardian, and Regulus volunteered.  So he has control of any decisions made for her in the wizarding world, and if there is any indication that things are not alright for her at home, he can easily sue for full custody.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, accepting that that would have to suffice for the moment.  “Can I go see Lily and Snally at Hagrid’s?” he requested, as Sapphire hissed that she didn’t want to share Harry with the big scaly flying lizard and the feathery flightless lizard just yet.

“Dinner’s in a little bit, so after that, alright love?  You absolutely need to eat,” Minnie said, wondering if she should go talk to Severus and Poppy to see if they could safely up the dosage on his nutrient potion for a couple weeks until he put some weight back on.

“Oh, it’s that late already?” Harry shrugged the shoulder that didn’t have an owl on it.  “Hmm, I didn’t realise, although I suppose it makes sense- Aunt Poppy always takes so long with her checkups.”

“She takes her job very seriously,” Minnie agreed as she ruffled Harry’s hair.  “Now come on, let’s start heading down to the Great Hall.”

[Isabelle is still in the process of getting all her vaccines, and Reg and Cyg get her a little gift every time she has another appointment, because getting stuck full of needles sucks, even though it’s better than the alternative.]

“Hey babe,” Draco greeted harry happily, pecking him on the lips.  “Glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” he laughed, before he groaned a bit as he caught sight of a glass of Pediasure alongside his usual dinner-time potions.  He squinted at it. “This has Uncle Sev written all over it.”

“Oh, relax- he put it in a glass so at least you didn’t have to look at that label you hate,” Pansy teased as she spooned him a large helping of cheesy enchiladas with mole and sour cream (and yes, the elves had made good fatty food to help Harry put weight back on).  “Oh look- you’ve got mail!” A post owl dropped a letter with Sirius’ handwriting on the envelope as Hedwig, still on Harry’s shoulder, cast a dirty look at this other creature that dared bring her master mail.

“Hmm, they just visited me two days ago- wonder what this could be,” he murmured as Pansy took out a dagger and slit the envelope for him.  “Thanks,” he nodded at her as he pulled it out.

Dear Prongslet,

It’s your dogfathers, here to let you know that we finally thought of Marauder names for you and old Sev.  We’re happy to let you know that the four living Marauders are now…. Duh duh duh.... Moony, Batty, Padfoot and Paws!  Anyway, Kreacher’s calling us to dinner and we haven’t had his cooking in a couple weeks, so I’m gonna end this here. Love you Pup!

Up at the head table, Uncle Sev was looking crankily at a similar letter, clearly not happy with his Marauder name (or the fact that he’d been roped into being one in the first place) but Harry had his own issues.  

“Three different nicknames just in this one letter!” he ranted to his friends as he showed them the parchment.  “As much as I love and appreciate the sentiment, there are so many , so unless someone specifically calls one of your names, I’m going to assume people are talking to me no matter what name they’re saying.”

“Alright Mulan,” Pansy told him, laughing as he stuck his tongue out at her.  “Less talk, more carne asada.” She forked a bite into her own mouth before prodding Harry to take another bite of his cheesy, gooey enchilada.

[It’s raining outside after dinner, so Minnie has Harry wait to go see the animals at Hagrid’s.  In the meantime, Lily and James finally locate Dumbledore, who’s in Albania doing… something and hasn’t been at Hogwarts at all in the past couple of months, and dream-haunt the fuck out of him.]

Harry woke early the next day, a Saturday, eager to go see his other, larger animal friends.  It had been sleepover night with Draco, so he popped up, grabbed his boyfriend by the hand, and dragged him out with him.

You’re so cute when you’re excited at ungodly hours of the morning, he grumbled sleepily into Harry’s head.

It’s seven a.m., Dray, not the middle of the night, Harry giggled as he nearly skipped down into the common room.

Remember, no going anywhere until you’ve eaten breakfast, the blonde ordered, and Harry rolled his eyes but took a detour to the great hall, where he took his potions and gulped down his pediasure before working through his bacon and eggs (the elves had made the scrambled eggs with whole milk, butter, and lots of cheese) as quickly as he could.

Alright let’s go! He dragged Draco, who was finishing a second helping of oatmeal, up from the table as he ran out before the elves had a chance to force him into eating any more (he was full, but house elves, much like doting great-aunts, aren’t good at hearing that).

“Mummy!” Snally, in what was fascinating and completely unprecedented for a snallygaster, had learned to mimic basic human speech patterns for the words “mummy” and “eat” (Ginny and Luna were currently studying the phenomenon in their spare time- in fact, they were already out there).

“Dada!” he crowed as he saw Draco, and Ginny squealed.

“He’s learned another new word- he’s like a parrot or something!”

“I’m… I’m dada?” Draco was touched and a little confused at the same time.

“Hagrid lets him watch the telly the twins set up in his hut, so we think he’s modelling the type of typical heteronormative family relationships he’s seen there,” Luna informed them as she scribbled in a sparkly notebook with a muggle pen with a pom-pom on the end, her spectro-specs slipping down to the bridge of her nose.  Ginny pushed them back up for her.

“Hey buddy,” Harry cooed, scratching the young snallygaster on the head as he screeched happily and nosed Harry’s robes for treats.  Harry pulled a leftover treacle tart from the inside pocket and offered it to his and Draco’s child, who very gently plucked it out of his hand with his serrated steel teeth before gulping it down eagerly.

“Eat!” he exclaimed pleasantly, before belching in Draco’s face, his breath smelling of the multiple rooster carcasses he’d eaten for breakfast, topped with just a hint of treacle.  The blonde gave him a strained smile as he tried not to gag.

Sorry luv, Harry tried to sound sympathetic, but his entire mind was full of laughter, so Draco just gave him a look.

“Hey bro,” Lily hissed at him as she flapped out of the forest and landed in front of him, trailing a unicorn herd.  “Sorry I’m late- we were having a lasssssessss night and stayed up a little too late.” Her claws and the unicorns horns and hooves were all covered messily in Neville’s natural nail polish.

“Who… who painted their nails?” Ginny asked, and Harry translated.

“None of usssssss have oppossssssable thumbssssss!” Lily snarled defensively, huffing at the redhead.

The conversation was stalled as Harry, the interpreter, was swarmed by adoring unicorns.  The lead mare poked disapprovingly at him with her nose, disturbed by how prominent his ribs were.

“I’ve been sick, but don’t worry- I just had breakfast,” he promised her solemnly, before she could start hunting for sausages.

“It’s good ter see ye up and about, Harry!” Hagrid told him, wading through the unicorn herd to tap him gently on the shoulder.  “Ye weren’t doin’ so well when I visited ye last week.” Harry merely nodded, glad Hagrid hadn’t seen him at the beginning of the illness, when he was doing a lot worse.

“I’m doing a lot better,” he promised the giant man.  “But you look like you’re bursting to tell me something.”

His big friend blushed, scrubbing a hand along his beard- he had never been good at keeping secrets.

“Er, alright- I suppose I could tell yeh- Maxime says it’s alright,” he said, confirming with her in his mind.  “I’m going ter be a father- we’re having a baby!”

“Oh Hagrid, that’s amazing!” the four gathered students cheered, gathering around to congratulate the groundskeeper.

“Ye- we’re right happy about it, and she’s due in December- which is good, because she’ll be too far along ter apparate here all the time like she does now and I’m never able ter find a substitute for this class, so it’s nice that the little ‘un will be coming along when we’re on school break and I won’t hafta take as much time off.” Hagrid beamed brilliantly.

“We’re so happy for you,” Luna put a gentle hand on Hagrid’s thigh, which was level with her shoulder.

“Talkin’ eh pregnant ladies,” Hagrid broke in, pointing to where Leiana was waddling out of the forest, her belly swollen and round, hanging nearly down to her knees.

“I heard through the grapevine that Harry’d come to visit,” the blonde palomino centaur said in her lilting accent as she gently nudged another unicorn aside to get to Harry, bending at the torso to kiss him on the head.  “So glad you’re feeling better- the herd was worried.”

“I’m fine,” Harry looked down, blushing.

“It’s good to hear- the stars foretold some trouble with a prophecy…” Leiana trailed off, worriedly brushing a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ears.

“Oh yeah… Mama and Uncle Sev told me about that.  They said not to worry, that it was a bunch of nonsense like the rest of Trelawney’s stuff, but I’m not so sure…” Harry worried his lip as Draco tried to send him calming thoughts despite his own misgivings.  “And then we still haven’t seen or heard from Dumbledore since Christmas…”

“It is not a worry for this time,” Leiana soothed, decisively, as she gently squeezed his shoulder.  And then she would say no more.

Chapter Text

The next couple of months flew by.  Gryffindor won the quidditch match against Slytherin (Harry and Draco were occluding from each other so they wouldn’t be cheating, and Draco insists that his failure to catch the snitch was due to missing Harry’s voice in his head.  Harry continues to insist, teasingly of course, that he’s just the better seeker). Harry caught one more minor cold, but only had to spend three days in the hospital wing, and then Gryffindor won the quidditch cup, beating Ravenclaw in the final match.  They also continued to study for OWL’s, and Viktor heard a lot of Ron complaining in his head about how Hermione’s study-obsessed thoughts were taking over his every waking moment. All the fifth-years were studying diligently, and Minerva often found herself carrying Harry up to the dorm after he’d fallen asleep over his books again.  Once she’d worked herself into a frenzy when Harry wasn’t back from studying in the chamber library by curfew, only to go looking for him, fearing the worst (because her son’s luck had taught her to always fear the worst) only to find that he’d merely fallen asleep there as well, his three snakes curled around him as he snored into an old journal written in parseltongue.

Ginny and Luna, free of OWL’s pressure until the next year, continued their research with Snally, who’d learned three more words (‘sweets!’, ‘yay!’ and ‘no!’, all with exclamation-mark-level emphasis).  By the time June rolled around, they had an article written up to publish in The Quibbler, while the fifth years did frantic last-minute studying and Fred and George finally started studying for their NEWTS.

“NEWTS-smewts,” Fred told Hermione as she berated them for starting so late.  

“We don’t even need ‘em- only sitting them to make mum happy,” George continued as they idly leafed through a book.  “Not like our lease for the shop depends on our grades or anything- we could get all Trolls and it would only cement our reputation as awesome pranksters.”

“Yeah, Mia- you really are worrying way too much.  You and Harry, who was actually complaining that Madame Pomfrey made him take a break from studying to watch a movie during his immune treatment yesterday,” Ron said, scrunching his nose in disgust.

“Well forgive me for worrying about a test our entire future depends on!” Hermione protested, right as Harry  yelled out: “It’s important!”

“ Puh-lease,” Pansy rolled her eyes at the two.  “I’m all for the necessity of studying, Ronald, but Mia- you’re brilliant.  You could not study at all and be just fine.  And Fawn- you’re Harry-bloody-Potter- you could just not show up for the tests at all and you’d still have people clamouring to hire you.”

“Shhh, enough talk, gotta study,” Harry and Hermione said at the same time, as Draco and Pansy rolled their eyes at each other.

[Minerva finally forcibly pulls the book out of Harry’s hands and tells him to relax for a while, and that no matter how he does on his OWL’s, she will still love him and be proud of him.]

Dumbledore had to come back for OWL’s as part of his duties as the headmaster (which he was only in name, by this point), and while all the adults gave him the earful of his life over the prophecy, they could unfortunately not cause physical harm to him at such an important time of year, and with the officials from the Wizarding Examinations Authority hanging around.  Flitwick had charmed the anti-cheating quills to automatically occlude for students with soul bonds, so while they could still feel the presence of their bonded (you can never get rid of a soul bond, not even temporarily) they couldn’t hear each other, at least, because some students (no one in Harry’s group, of course) would have been quick to take advantage of such a handy little thing.

“Ah, Griselda, good to see you!” Minerva greeted the head of the WEA with a kiss on her wrinkled old cheek as they met the staff in the entryway, and Madame Marchbanks patted her on the arm.

“Lovely to see you as well, dear- it seems like just yesterday I was overseeing your OWL’s- I must say, you particularly impressed me with your Transfiguration.  Only one that ever got close to you was James Potter.”

“Yes, well, I think you’ll be rather impressed with Harry as well,” Minnie assured her old mentor.

“Well, I shan’t go in with any preconceptions, because I must stay objective, after all.  But James and Lily Potter’s son, raised by you? I look forward to watching his exams.”

“And Albus,” she cast a dismissive glance to where Dumbledore waited, hand outstretched, to greet her.  “Shame to see such wasted potential.” Then she swept past him with her committee, and no one said anything more to the man.

Meanwhile, Harry was whispering spells under his breath as the fifth years waited in the hallway outside the charms exam room.

Harry- relax, you speak Latin.  If you forget a spell, you can just translate in your head what you want it to do, Draco told him.

I know, but…

Relax, luv- they’re going to be proud of you no matter what- Minnie, James, Lily, Sev- you could never dissapoint them, his boyfriend soothed, easily picking up on all Harry’s insecurity.  It had been a niggling worry that had come up for Harry a lot the past couple of weeks, and it hurt Draco that he couldn’t just make it go away.  If he ever got his hands on the Dursleys….

Babe, please- I can’t have violent murder images in my head right before my exams, Harry told him, but he was smiling slightly through the nerves, and Draco was glad that he felt a little better.

Alright- see you on the other side, luv, the blonde finished as the door opened and they all filed into their desks.  Harry squeezed his hand one more time.

The written exam went better than Harry’d expected- he knew every answer, and he left to his practical feeling much cheered about his chances the next two weeks.

“Potter, Harry,” the wizened old warlock read from the sheet, and Harry streamed in for his turn.  In the room was the committee, as well as Hagrid. Harry wondered what he was doing there, but he didn’t want to speak out of turn.  Luckily, his friend saw the look on his face.

“I’m here for ye all ter cast on, since I’m especially resistant to magic.  There’s a little bar above my head that’ll show the strength of the spell. That way, if we’re working with summat trickier, there’s no one ter get hurt.”

“As Hagrid has so kindly explained,” Madame Marchbanks said, “you will cast the instructed spells on him- well, not all of the spells, just the ones we tell you to.  To begin, you’ll just levitate this feather.”

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Harry recited fluently, swishing and flicking.  He could easily do this spell without his wand, but he didn’t want to come off as pompous.

“Excellent.  Wonderful technique, Mr. Potter.  Now that we’ve warmed up, can you charm a fire on this piece of coal?” she asked, pointing.  Harry flicked his wand, not realising that he’d forgotten to say the incantation, and the assembled were very impressed when a small flame flared and settled- non-verbal magic wasn’t taught until the next year.

“Lovely control, but could you tell us the incantation, just so we can mark that we know it?” Griselda prompted.

“Oh, did I not say it out loud- I’m sorry, I meant to,” Harry said, biting his lip.  “It’s ignus- I’m terribly sorry, I really thought I’d spoken it- I suppose I’m just a bit nervous.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Potter- we shan’t fault you for a little thing like that,” Madame Marchbank soothed, as she marked extra points on her clipboard for his knowing the incantation and being able to do the spell nonverbally.

Harry then was asked to add legs to a teacup and then banish the same teacup, silence a chattering mouse, and then the old witch turned to Hagrid.

“Alright, for the last spell, we’re going to have you stun Hagrid- this is why we use him, because it takes five grown wizards to stun him fully, so the students don’t bother him at all.  The little charmed bar above his head will fill with red to show the force of your spell, and if it passes that little tick,” she pointed to a black space on the floating holographic measurement bar, which looked like a muggle thermometer, “it means it is sufficient to stun the average fifth-year, which is all that is required to pass.  You merely shoot Hagrid with your strongest stunning spell and let the bar measure the rest.”

“The strongest? Just as hard as I can?” Harry asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, that’s right dear,” Griselda affirmed.  When Harry still hesitated, Hagrid smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m goin’ ter be just fine- yeh can’t hurt me, buddy, so just go at it,” the half-giant reassured.

“Okay…” Harry shook his head and readied his wand before casting the spell.  He held back a little, just to be safe, and it was probably a good thing as the red line on the bar went up to the tick, past it, up to the very top of the bar, back down and up again, and again, and then the bar flickered and went out in a shower of sparks as Hagrid grunted and tumbled backwards, hitting the floor just after Harry rallied himself and cast a panicked wandless cushioning charm.

“Mmmmph,” Hagrid grunted.

“ Merlin Hagrid areyoualright? ” Harry cried, running up to his friend.  “I’m so sorry!”

“S’alright,” he grunted after a moment.  “I just- can ye take it off- I’d rather not wait fer it ter wear off on it’s own.”

“Of course,” Harry slashed his wand to cancel the spell, still hovering anxiously around the CoMC professor as he pulled himself up.

“I must say, Mr. Potter, that was… rather impressive,” Griselda said, a little faintly.  “Not to worry, I believe Mr. Hagrid is just fine. You may go now.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed, still looking nervously at Harid.

“It’s okay, lil ‘un- our fault fer underestimatin’ yeh.” The man let out a great booming chuckle and then a bit of a wheeze before hugging his little pal, who smiled gently at him as he walked out.

[The elves bake lots of goodies to keep up student morale.]

The next two weeks both crawled and flew by in a blur, as exam weeks do, and Harry felt good about how he was doing.  He was upset with himself for forgetting one translation on his runic written exam, but Hermione told her she’d had a bit of trouble with that one as well, so he felt a little better.  By the time the last afternoon, the DADA practical, rolled around, they were all ready to be done, and Harry walked in to the room for his turn, pleased to see that in lieu of Hagrid, there was a large metal dummy.

“We got this from a muggle military supplier,” Madame Marchbanks told him with a wry smile on her face as he looked at it.  “Built to withstand nuclear explosions, we’re told. Should last us a number of years, which is good for the price, I suppose, so knock yourself out.  Figuratively, of course.” She chuckled as Harry stepped up to the line, wand raised as he waited for instructions.

The thing held out fine until the final spell, the blasting hex, in which case the dummy became a pile of shrapnel that left Harry scrambling to summon a Protego to cover him and the committee as they flew about.  Dear Old Griselda Marchbanks stood their for a moment, blinking, mouth open wide, before she fainted in sheer surprise, giving Harry another chance to show off his excellent potions skills as he revived her with some smelling salts he carried around with him.

[Alright, Harry is officially the most impressive student Griselda has ever seen in all her 195 years of life.  She sits looking at his exam stats in her office that night, still shaking her head in disbelief.]

“Woo!  Exams are over!” Pansy pumped a fist, cheering.  “We did it!”

“That translation is still bothering me,” Hermione grumbled, as she and Harry worked on it together from memory.

“Oh, would you two stop it!” Susan swatted at them.  “Pansy’s right- we’re done- just let it go.”

“Yeah,” Blaise fought with them for the paper.  “You know what- let’s all floo to visit Cissa in her office, see what we can do with all those excellent grades we got.”

“I would like to go see your mums, Dray,” Harry mused, his moment of inattention giving Blaise the chance he needed to rip the stupid runic paper out from under the two.

“Then it’s settled,” Neville said, taking control.  “We floo to the village, grab those lazy graduates, and head over to the Ministry.  I’ll just go let my parents know where I’m going.”

“I’ll go tell Minnie as well,” Harry agreed, and Draco followed him by default as they all basked in the glorious relief of finishing a long two weeks.

Chapter Text

“So, this is your office, huh mum?” Draco asked as she showed them in.  The walls were painted a pale blue and covered in family photos of her, Ara, Draco, and all their friends.  A large portrait of Harry and Draco, posed in front of the fireplace the night of the Yule Ball, hung on the wall just behind the desk, which was covered in various documents and paperwork.  In the centre was a muggle laptop and telephone, with a pair of reading glasses lying neatly next to the receiver (Narcissa hated to acknowledge the need for them; it made her feel old).

“No, darling- this is just the bathroom,” she quipped, rolling her eyes at him as Harry covered his mouth to stifle a giggle (of course, since they were in each other’s heads, Draco still picked up on his amusement).

“Well, it’s very lovely,” Draco told Cissy, not taking the bait.

Narcissa certainly looked at home in her new role.  She bustled around, looking over papers, putting signatures on certain ones with a muggle ballpoint pen, and her low heels made a clack clack clack sound on the marble floor as she moved.  She was dressed more like a secretary with her calf-length, flower-print calico dress and her hair in a loose top knot, an extra pencil behind her ear, but the purpose with which she moved clearly showed that she was in charge.  If that weren’t enough, the time-turner hanging on her neck on a delicate gold chain spoke to a high-level position (she often had too much work to finish it all in a natural timeline).

“Thank you, luv,” she told him, her voice a distracted hum as she looked over a piece of parchment.  “Ugh, I told Bittenbinder that I would not be deducting his Alka-seltzer tablets as an office expense- I work with a bunch of hooligans, I tell you.”  She put the parchment down with a decisive swish and pulled the glasses off.

“So, what’re the perks of being the boss around here?” Pansy asked as she tossed a hex at a photo of Dumbledore in the corner, already sporting several burn marks and holes from when Minister Narcissa needed to let off some steam.

“Well, I get an assistant, but he’s not very good…” Cissa began, before a series of loud bangs emitted from downstairs.

“For the love of Merlin, the unspeakables are at it again,” the woman sighed, rubbing her temples.  “For people whose jobs rely on the utmost secrecy, they sure spend a lot of time playing rowdy card games when they’re supposed to be working.  I swear, half my job is shutting them up… well, come on kids, shall we put them in their place?”

“I just got through two weeks of testing, so I’m about ready to scream at some people,” Hermione agreed, as Pansy smiled in devious excitement.

“Alright, to the Department of Mysteries,” Narcissa waved them on with a melodramatic flourish.

Narcissa led them down the stairs and through a door off to the side, casting a lumos charm into the keyhole so the door could read her magical signature, letting them in.  In the Hall of Prophecies, however, instead of a group of slightly-intoxicated ministry employees playing gobstones, there were black-robed wizards and witches, all masked except for one, with long curly hair, sallow skin, and heavy-lidded silver eyes.

“Why isn’t it here?!” the screeching voice of Bellatrix Lestrange rang throughout the hallway as she looked at the spot where Harry’s prophecy used to rest, the banging noise they heard from upstairs made clear as she aimed a noisy hex at the walls and screamed in frustration.  Neville blanched, and Narcissa cursed as dark wards slammed down behind them, blocking the exits as her sister turned to look at her with a saccharine smile.

“Oh, if it isn’t minister Cissy- so lovely to see you again.  Perhaps you could help me find what I’m looking for, and maybe then I’ll give you back your little toys,” she cackled.

“I think she means the unspeakables- there’s a large group of magical signatures without the dark mark in a room just off the antechamber.  I think they have them tied up there- but there’s some hostile thought magic as well,” Harry whispered to those closest to him as Narcissa and her sister stared each other down (and Narcissa frantically sent for Ara through the bond, telling her to get the order and bring a team of the best curse breakers to get through the wards quickly).

“Ron, Viktor, and I will go free them- you guys keep the death eaters distracted out here,” Blaise whispered back as the small group broke off to go rescue the unspeakables.

“Cool, I’ll create a diversion,” Pansy announced quietly.

Narcissa was berating herself for inadvertently leading the children into a trap and wondering how she was going to protect her babies when a throwing knife sailed past her and embedded into a masked death eater just behind Bellatrix.  Pansy summoned her engraved throwing knife from the now-corpse as all eyes turned to her, allowing the four on recon to sneak out unnoticed.

“Woulda gone for that one,” acid-scarred hands pointed to Bellatrix, “but I thought I’d leave her for someone with a more personal vendetta.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t for wittle Pansy Parkinson,” Bella cooed in a warped imitation of the way one would coo at a child.  “Last I saw you, we were threatening your parents in Mungo’s maternity ward. They still wouldn’t join us though- pity the aurors got there before we could congratulate them on your birth.”  She narrowly dodged a spell that would have flayed her skin from her bones and raised an eyebrow at the younger, better Slytherin.  “My, my- little feisty for the light side, aren’t we?”

“Um, yeah- I just killed one of yours, or did you miss it?  Here, I’ll show you again.” Her knife flashed through the air again, the ruby-eyed tigress on the handle taking out another death eater before any of them had time to move.

“Oh, now you’ve done it!” That one happened to be one of Bellatrix’s lesser boy-toys, so the aura of playful insanity was gone as the battle began in earnest.  There were far more death eaters than Hogwarts students (why they’d brought so many just to collect a prophecy was a bit of a mystery to Harry, who felt it was rather a bad strategy for trying to get something secretly ), but TDT hadn’t been for nothing- wands in dominant hands, throwing knives in the others, the group had the advantage of physical and magical combat skills working in tandem as they threw their blades in tandem with hexes, the secret pocket of the robes that held their dagger-holsters charmed to bring another dagger from their collections back at school whenever one was thrown.  Pansy had charmed these handy Christmas gifts to respond only to the magical signature of the owner and their soulmate, so even the few death eaters that were enterprising enough to try to pick them up and throw them back at the other side were unable.

Harry backed Draco, while simultaneously feeling out the enemy- Julian wasn’t there, and neither was Voldemort- they’d have to ponder later why he wouldn’t have told the man he was planning an attack.  Harry threw his own knives as he cast with and without his wand simultaneously so he could do more at a time, although he aimed more for arms and legs and non-lethal areas- he didn’t want to kill unless it was absolutely necessary, and he had to admit that he was a little jealous of Pansy’s ability to feel no guilt about it as she took down one more with a knife and critically injured another with a spell.  Hermione also looked like she was trying her damn best to send more dead beyond the veil, but besides Fleur, none of them had the same level of combat experience required to take down a moving target while casting and keeping oneself alive in the heat of battle.

Harry felt Ron and the others reach the unspeakables, and he turned his attention back to the battle to see that Neville was holding his own in a duel with a masked death eater, fairly young by the feel of his core, and then he looked over at Susan.  She seemed determined to pull here revenge on the group that followed the man who made her life so miserable second year, as she stunned two large wizards into deep unconsciousness at the same time- that was going to hurt in the morning.

At the edge of his mage senses, Harry cringed as he felt his best friend accidentally bump one of the malevolent thought presences, only to be inundated in an attack by the odd, brain-like signatures.  At the same time, Hermione screamed.

“ Ron! ” she clutched her chest as if in physical pain, and was almost hit from behind by a death eater, but luckily, Fleur cast a shield for her, grabbed the death eater, kneed him in the crotch, swung him over her shoulder and onto the floor, and slit his throat with her dagger.  Crimson pooled under the body, still swathed in black robes, as an explosion rang from the room holding the unspeakables.

Viktor came out blazing, fury in his eyes and bits of now-harmless brain matter splattered along the walls.  In his arms was an unconscious Ron, bright red burns in thin, spiralling patterns along his forearms. Behind him was Blaise, sweating just a bit as he levitated all ten wizards and witches in the Unspeakable Department.

Having his comatose snidget against his chest did not slow the Bulgarian down at all, and the unfortunate death eater that tried to take advantage of his being weighed down was hit with a green light and dropped immediately- Viktor Krum was a long way past caring about the legality of an Avada Kedavra.  Nearby, Malala grappled with her own death eater, who dared try to jerk at her hijab to distract her while he cast a hex.  She neatly dodged, pulled the cloth back around her hair, recited a rushed version of the Dua, and killed him with an old Pashto spell, used for those who had invoked the rage of Allah by disrespecting a woman (personally, Pansy would have gone with blasting him to bits, but in keeping Halal, Malala stuck to a clean, quick ending for the enemy).

They were doing well, but they were hugely outnumbered, and even with the death toll on the other side, there were still at least three death eaters to each of them.  They were gradually losing ground, pushed back through to another entryway. Harry shuddered as he felt before he saw the black, hazy window against the back wall- it exuded death.  This was the veil room.

Behind me, he ordered Draco, who, shocked by the urgency and demanding tone of his voice, complied without thinking.  Harry stunned another death eater before shouting “EVERYBODY AVOID THAT WINDOW!”

But the enemy was determined to push them closer, and Bellatrix, like a demented hellhound, had herded Harry to the outskirts.

“Got a bone to pick with you, runt,” she snarled, and Harry did not like how much she sounded like Marge at that moment.  “You did something to my master- he’s always coming down with something. You’ll tells me how to fix it, and then I’ll kill you.”

“He brought it on himself, taking my blood,” Harry growled back, lifting his wand.

“Oh, wook at wittle baby Harry- so adorable when you’re angry, aren’t you, pet?” she sneered.

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” the green-eyed teen launched a blasting hex at her with all the force he could muster (let’s just say it’s a good thing she sidestepped, because the wall came away.  And the door… and the foot of earth that kept them underground, as sunlight from above streamed into the room). Harry’s friends collectively sighed- she’d said the one thing that was liable to send him into a rage.

“Hmm, powerful, aren’t we?” she cackled, trying to hide the fear in her eyes.

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing for your master that I wasn’t at full strength that night in the graveyard- now, since you seem so intent on interrogation, answer me this.  Lucius is still in Azkaban, but you’re here- what’s the deal?”

“Oh, I was the only one his lordship deemed fit to free from my prison- didn’t want to cause too much trouble by making a big spectacle with a mass prison break, now did he?  And dear master isn’t too pleased with old Lucy at the moment either- terribly rude of him, to abandon the dark lord in his time of need.”

“Well, I never thought we’d have a common enemy,” Harry remarked, blase, as he easily dodged a flaying curse from the woman.  “Of course, that’s not really relevant at the moment, now is it?”

“Someone’s rather quippy, innit he?” Bella taunted as she narrowly missed a bone-breaking curse.

“Well, you know- gallows humour.  Blame yourselves, really- you all spend so much time trying to kill me I couldn’t help but develop it.”  He managed to hit her with a painful, blistering burn in the middle of her chest, and it burnt through her robes and spread across her skin in a starburst.

“Oh, enough playing around!” she howled as she screeched in pain.   “Crucio!”  

It was right as Harry narrowly evaded the unforgivable that many things happened at once.  

The hole he’d made in the wall widened considerably with a crack as Sirius burst in riding Lily (the dragon), a jet of flame from her nostrils filling the room with the smell of singed stone and burning dirt.  Sirius hopped off, sparkly, steel-toed combat boots hitting the ground with a tone of finality as he strode towards his cousin. His hair was up in a loose, stylish man-bun to keep it out of his face as he kicked some arse, the new diamond studs in his ears catching the light and magnifying the hard gleam in his grey eyes as he stepped up and pushed Harry behind him.

“ NOT MY GODSON, YOU BITCH! ” he roared, nearly louder than Lily as he took up the duel.  The other members of the order also streamed in through the hole, and the complex ward on the outer door burst as Bill Weasley burst through, trailing behind him his employers, the goblin queen leading her army as they hefted spears and chanted a war cry.

The apparation wards had also come down in this explosive process, rather an unfortunate accident, as Voldemort, sensing his followers distress and astonishment through the mark, popped in, his red eyes squinting in the light as his nostrils flared in his flat face.  He was just getting over a cold, so his breathing was raspy, like a very pale, frightening, mutant French bulldog, and the bags under his eyes only added to this effect.  He zeroed in on Harry, who stood firm, his mage senses tuned to the battle between Sirius and Bellatrix.

“You wanna go, flat face, or do you only duel sick teenagers with broken legs?” He threw the taunt out casually as the goblins snickered in between songs of death and glory (there were many reasons they liked this little human, his humour among them).

“Harry Potter- you will regret the day of your birth and every one thereafter,” the dark lord intoned, but the effect was ruined by a cough.  Minerva, finally catching sight of her son, was in no way about to stand by and watch this monster attack her son again, but before she was halfway to him, Kreacher popped in, weilding a frying pan in one hand and a butcher’s knife in the other.

“ DIE, MOLDSNORTS, DIE! ” he screeched, and stabbed him in the leg.  Voldemort clearly wasn’t the kind of general to rough it with his army, as he apperated away before any further action could be taken against him.

“Master!” Bellatrix cried, and green fire shot from her wand in her anger.  For a moment, there was terror on the part of Harry’s friends as the watched it hit, but as it passed, Sirius stood unharmed, although the room smelled a bit of burnt hair and the ends of the dog animagus’ silky bangs were smoking.

“My hair!” he yelped, indignant, and Bellatrix smiled.

“Ha-ha, is wittle Siri upset?” she jeered, just as she used to when they were kids.  She was caught up in her gleeful jest, so that she didn’t notice the spell coming at her until it was too late.  Finally, after a life of torturing innocents, Bellatrix Black-Lestrange fell backwards through the veil, a smile on her face and malicious mirth in her eyes as she died.

Chapter Text

With their general fled and their captain dead, wrapping up the battle was quite simple from that point.  Many of the remaining death eaters fled in the chaos, but a good few more were rounded up by the order, the goblins, and the aurors, who had finally arrived.  Their were passer-by watching the spectacle from the streets, looking down through the hole in the building. Viktor still clutched Ron, who had come around and was gripping his head and groaning, but a quick scan by Madame Pomfrey determined that while the burns on his arms would scar, he would be fine and suffer no other lasting effects.

“I must go properly perform the Dua, now zhat we are out of ze battle,” Malala told Fleur and Bill, who nodded in understanding as the Pakistani woman left to find a bathroom for the ritual washing.  Harry thanked the goblins and the aurors and checked on all his friends while the death eaters were taken away, and as soon as Malala returned, they all left to return to Hogwarts, some of the adults nursing minor wounds from the violent culmination of the battle, but no serious injuries or deaths occured on their side, which they were grateful for and which was far more than could be said for the death eaters.

“I killed five people today!” Pansy pumped her fist victoriously as they entered the hospital wing.  Poppy finished patching Ron up and moved on to the rest of them.

“Hmm, for once you’re in fairly good shape,” the medi-witch said as she scanned Harry.  “A few bruises, some minor cuts, and some magical exhaustion, but that’s pretty much the case for all of you.  You’ll all stay the night here under my supervision, although I’ll probably keep young Ronald here for three days.”

“Mmmph, ‘kay,” the redhead said, already half asleep as he clutched a pillow with his bandaged arms, Viktor rubbing scalp gently.

“Oh Neville, thank gods you’re alright,” Alice was sobbing as she clutched her son, and Frank was crying, albeit more quietly.

“To think, we could have lost you again…”   Frank’s voice was hoarse, his face shell-shocked as he pondered how close they’d come, he and Alice, to losing their entire world.

Nearby, Minnie was panicking a little more quietly, although her worry was evident to Harry in the way she squeezed him to her almost painfully tightly as she held him to her chest, from where he sat on her lap on a random hospital bed (he didn’t want to go to his room and leave his friends just yet, and thankfully Aunt Poppy hadn’t gotten around to making him).

Severus sat in a corner, shirking away from all the noise as Poppy dabbed some salve on a burn on his shoulder that he’d received from a stray hex.  In his head, he could feel Julian pacing.

He had me working on a potion for him- I can’t believe I didn’t know there was an attack happening.  Why wouldn’t he tell me? I was quite sure he trusted me.

Maybe he wanted to keep his only potions master out of the fighting, Severus pointed out.

Still- it’s concerning that he can apparently selectively exclude some marks from the call, because I felt nothing.  The burning of the mark was the only completely trustworthy signal we had, since his word means nothing in many instances, the blonde ran his hands through his hair, sure it would soon be peppered with gray if the war continued to be so stressful.

He didn’t even show up until nearly the end, the professor soothed (calming another human being- that wasn’t Harry- was somewhat of a strange role for him, but he rose to the occasion as Julian had often done for him).   He wasn’t planning on the recon going so badly- why he had so many go to retrieve it in the first place is beyond me.  He hasn’t called you to punish you, so it is safe to assume you are still in his good graces. Perhaps not as close to his inner circle as you’d like to be, but you’re fulfilling your role admirably- you didn’t even have to do it in the first place, you know.

I know, but I should be doing it better.

Relax a bit, would you?  I can feel you grinding your teeth, and it’s making my head hurt, Severus groused.   And we didn’t lose anyone, so no harm, no foul.  And maybe, after the display we put on today, he’ll think twice before crossing us again.

Or he’ll come at us with more force and be more prepared, Julian offered pessimistically.

This role reversal of ours is strange and unsettling- tell me, can you get away tonight?   Severus asked, his thoughts bleeding just a hint of anxiety.

Yes- he doesn’t want to see anyone, and I’ve already dropped all the potions he needs, so I’m free.

Good- meet me in my quarters.  We’ll have a firewhisky and push our concerns down like normal human beings.

Gods, Julian groaned.   You have no idea how to deal with your feelings, do you?

And the dynamic is back to normal, Severus crossed his arms in front of his chest and smirked in satisfaction.

[Kreacher also panics over Harry, tenderly dressing each of his cuts and sending for Winky to cook all his favourite snacks.]

Cygnus and Aralynn were hanging back, watching all the magic and the hustle and bustle of the post-battle happenings.  

“Er, sorry I accidentally tazed you- I’m still learning how to use the thing,” Cyg told Ara, who shrugged.

“It’s cool- you’ve apologised a thousand times, no worries mate,” Ara waved a hand dismissively and laughed.

“Sorry- er, not sorry, er- I don’t know- it’s hard to tell if people are being serious or just doing social niceties.  I can tell with Reg, because we’ve been together for so long, but it seems like it’s either that I do something that I don’t even realise isn’t like, correct, and I can’t apologise enough, but then when I really feel bad about something, it’s like I apologise too much… ugh, I’m rambling.  Sorry.” He scratched his elbow, cheeks red.

“It’s fine- I get kind of bored of all the bullshit too, although I’m sure it’s harder for you, when you can’t like, intuitively pick up on it.  Like, at least I have the option to know what I’m supposed to do and then decide not too.  Mad respect, mate, for doing you.  I mean, aspergers and being trans and stuff- gotta be hard.  And I thought being a lesbian was hard enough- although it would have been easier if my parents had been cool with it…” Ara finished bitterly.

“I feel you there.  I was the golden child and the messed up one at the same time, because I was like, a certified genius, and they had all these plans for me to go to the best universities and make them famous just for being my parents and stuff.  But they weren’t cool with the Aspergers- they kept treating me like it was shameful, you know, something wrong with me, when really it’s just how I am, and it wouldn’t even be a problem if the rest of the world could just, I don’t know, try to understand a bit?  Not be so rigid. But they never got that- and then I came out as trans, and that was it. My mother smacked me that day. She’d never done that before- I mean, emotionally, she could be really difficult, but it was like, even though she didn’t accept me as a boy, the fact that I felt like one made her more violent with me- like she was saying to me with her eyes ‘oh, you wanna be a man?  I’ll hurt you like a man- you can’t handle it.’ I left that day. I was fifteen. She called the police, of course, she and my father, played the bereaved parents, but I was quick.  I was across the border into the United States before they could find me. And from there- well, it’s a lot easier to be undocumented when you’re white, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.”

“Life’s tough, huh?” Ara agreed, watching Harry reassure both Minerva and Draco that he was okay, while Narcissa hovered around them.  She swung her feet. “Well, I think it’s calmed down enough that I can get to my kid now without being interrupted by nurses and elves and crazy children.  Why don’t you take Reg and head back home, watch a movie or something. It was our first real look at how dark the wizarding world can be, today, and I think we’ve both earned some space to relax a little so we can process.”

“Yeah, definitely.  I should probably book an appointment with Sarah as well…”

“Something tells me she’s about to get real busy,” Aralynn agreed with a laugh, walking towards her wife and child.

[Narcissa tells her staff she’ll address all their concerns tomorrow- she’s earned a night in with her family.]

The next day Harry and the other kids, all medically cleared, sat around Ron’s bed eating snacks as they just hung out for a bit.  

“So, Weasel, you got some cool scars now,” Pansy said as she cleaned her nails with her engraved dagger, apparently unconcerned that she’d used that same dagger to impale people the day before.  “You can join Harry and I in the super-cool scars club.”

“Alright, you crazy ninja woman,” Ron rolled his eyes at her and chuckled.  “So, in this club- do I get to stop being called Weasel.”

“ Please ,” Pansy looked at him as if he’d just asked the world’s dumbest question.  “You could somehow become ruler of the entire world and you still wouldn’t get to just shake that nickname.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Ron sighed dramatically and flopped back against the pillows.

A moment later, Narcissa strode into the hospital room, interrupting their conversation.  “So, the wizarding world is officially in unilateral agreement that Voldemort is back, finally.  One less battle I have to fight. Anyway,” she continued, clearly having come to say more than that.  “I’m hoping to get some international aid in the coming war, and I also think it would be nice to get out of Britain for a while, so how does everyone feel about a summer trip to Australia?”

“Sounds great,” Harry agreed.  “You’re gonna have to convince Minnie and Sev to not freak out about all the potential things that could go wrong there, though.”

“I’m on it,” Cissa laughed.  “We’ll leave next week- Nev, your parents are all on board, so you get a real family vacation.”

“I can’t wait,” Neville smiled, as they all silently agreed that they would not let this war control their lives.  Voldemort could try to conquer whatever he wanted, but one thing he could never take, would never take, was their morale, their spirit, and their family.  They were stronger than that, and they were determined to emerge victorious.