Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harry Potter woke up two weeks before his ninth birthday and decided he was going to leave home.

This in itself wasn't particularly unusual. Harry, like many young boys, had often thought about leaving home. After all, being able to go wherever they wanted, without anyone telling them what to do, was the dream of many children.

Harry Potter probably thought about it more often than most though. He thought about it whenever his uncle shouted at him, or whenever his aunt sneered at him. He thought about it when his cousin and his gang chased him so they could try to stuff his head down the toilet, and whenever his teachers looked at him with vapid expressions of pity.

In short, Harry Potter had thought about it nearly every day for the past seven years.

The difference between Harry and all the other children with similar dreams was that Harry was perfectly capable of carrying making his dream a reality.

Harry had been planning his escape for a long time, but recent events had forced his hand. It wasn't unusual for Harry to get far better reports from his teachers than his cousin Dudley. It also wasn't difficult, considering Dudley had the intelligence of a juvenile rabbit, but for some reason Vernon and Petunia had never gotten used to it. They had taken to ignoring it after even their most severe threats failed to get Harry to dumb himself down, but this year they couldn't ignore the rather pointed note attached to Harry's report from his headmistress. Miss Pevensie was old but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind enough to miss the differences between loud, spoiled Dudley and his little ghost of a cousin. Harry had been sent to his cupboard the second Vernon had seen the letter, but his uncle's shouts about child services and reports of abuse had been impossible to ignore.

Harry didn't care. Maybe the authorities would help, but they never had before and he had no intention of taking his chances.

So the next morning, Harry decided that enough was enough. He left his schoolbooks behind, instead packing the few tolerable clothes he possessed into his small rucksack. There was nothing else he cared to take; everything he owned had been broken by Dudley before being passed on to him. He dressed in his school uniform, and looked round his cupboard for the last time.

Really, Harry hadn't had to stay in the cupboard. Young as he was, there were plenty ways he could have persuaded or intimidated his relatives into giving him Dudley's spare room. In the end though he hadn't bothered with the effort. He had never been planning on staying long, and the less the Dursleys knew about what he could do the better. More importantly, the less the other authorities knew about his abilities the better.

Harry wasn't stupid. He might know very little about how his world worked in this time, but no society would be so idiotic as to leave children with their power unsupervised. Any intentional displays of magic would undoubtedly attract attention, and that would lead to questions that Harry had no desire to answer.

For example, how he knew about magic at all.

Harry snorted softly. That question alone could cause utter chaos. Much better to wait until he had more information

A sharp rap on the door woke Harry from his thoughts.

"Hurry up, or you'll be late, boy."

Harry's lip curled, but he opened the door without comment. Petunia sneered down at him. "You've missed breakfast, but that can't be helped. We're leaving now."

Harry said nothing. He just met her pale blue eyes with his green ones until the sneer faded into something more uncertain. Petunia's lips thinned, but instead of scolding him, she just shook her head sharply. "Don't be late."

She hurried Dudley out the door with far more haste than normal, and Harry was gratified to see a gleam of fear and confusion in her eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder. Then the door slammed shut and Harry was alone in the house.

Vernon hadn't been happy, but after Dudley threw four tantrums in a row about the freak walking into school with him, he had agreed that Harry would leave five minutes after Dudley and Petunia each morning. Harry hadn't particularly minded; any time away from Dudley was fine by him, and he had been amused by how quickly the teachers picked up on their unusual situation, but he appreciated the arrangement now.

It was tempting to leave a suitable farewell for the Dursleys, but Harry resisted the impulse. He wanted as good a head start as he could get before the chaos started. Not that it really mattered, considering where he was going, but it would draw things out for his charming relatives. Instead, Harry headed up to the attic.

One of the first things Harry could remember was Petunia telling him never to go into the attic. Naturally, it was one of the first things Harry had done, once he was strong enough. The place was full of Vernon and Petunia's rubbish, but there were a few items of interest. Harry shoved a stack of Dudley's old pre-school work out the way until he spotted the box of dusty photo albums poking out from under a bag of old clothes. He was keen to leave as soon as possible, but he had never been able to resist the urge to take a look.

Harry carefully picked up one of the more faded albums and opened it. Two smiling Muggles beamed up at him, and Harry felt his own lips twitch up. The photo was in black and white, but he knew from other photos that his grandmother's eyes were exactly the same colour as his own. Both of his grandparents were white though, so Harry's own skin and hair colour had presumably come from his father's side. That was all Harry knew about his father, but he pushed that thought to one side. There would be information about him somewhere, and Harry had no intention of stopping until he found it.

Reluctantly, Harry set that album aside and found the more recent ones. These ones were all in colour, and there was a familiar tightness in Harry's chest as he looked at his mother's face. If he hadn't found these photos, Harry wouldn't even have known her name. He thanked every god he knew that someone had recorded the date and people present on the back of each photo. There were some of Lily and Petunia as small children, sometimes with a tiny wrinkled old woman who Harry assumed was his great-grandmother, and then there were some of Lily as a young lady, laughing and carefree, with her whole future before her.

Harry's fingers trembled as he traced his mother's face. What had happened? He knew absolutely nothing about their lives. He didn't know why they had met their deaths by the Killing Curse, if that was the green light in his nightmares was, or why he had been placed with people who might be his blood relatives but still loathed him simply for who he was. He didn't know why none of their friends had ever tried to check on him.

Harry didn't have answers to those questions. But he was going to find out.

For now though, he had wasted enough time. He raided the albums for his favourite pictures, and placed the photos carefully in a plastic wallet he'd taken from Dudley's school supplies. He needed them more than Petunia did. Harry cast a final quick glance round, then settled his rucksack more comfortably on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

It wasn't the best idea he had ever had. Apparition was tricky even for a grown wizard. Harry remembered all too vividly the last time he had tried it at this young age, but he forced the memories away with a shudder. Thinking about that wouldn't help. He was tempted to wait a few more months, just to let his magic stabilise, but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. The situation with the Dursleys had become intolerable, and Harry knew he could do this. He had before after all.

So Harry Potter summoned up all the magic he possessed and concentrated on the one place he could truly call home.

There was the familiar awful-wonderful twisting wrenching bending stretching sensation then Harry landed on cold stone and his mind burst into song.

'Welcome home, Salazar!"

Salazar Slytherin, founder of Hogwarts, now nearly nine year old Harry Potter closed his eyes and let the magic of Hogwarts surround him. Wards wrapped around him as easily as if a day had passed rather than a thousand years, and tears fell unheeded as Hogwarts' love and respect soothed his battered mind and soul.

'Thank you,' he finally managed. 'It is good to be home.'

Hogwarts seemed to hum louder, and for a minute Harry let himself just bask in the warmth of her welcome. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with more than wary pity.

But there was something he had to know.

'Have any of the others been here?'

There was a heavy sigh and Harry's heart sank even before the soft whisper sounded. 'Only you.'

Harry drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Where could they be? He couldn't do this without them. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes and tried to think. He had made no plans to be reborn after his death, and he wouldn't have had time to carry out any rituals anyway, considering the nature of his demise. That meant that someone, be it a god, the fates, or even magic itself, had intervened.

Whoever it was, they had to have brought the others back too. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he did know that he couldn't do it alone. He needed his family.

But if they weren't here, where were they?

'They may not be old enough,' Hogwarts pointed out. 'Witches and wizards do not come here until they are eleven now, and you are younger than that.'

Harry sat back and nodded. 'You're right. I just hope they get here soon.' If they didn't... His mind shied away from the possibility.

'The new school year starts in six weeks,' Hogwarts offered. 'One or all of them might arrive then.'

'I hope so,' said Harry quietly.

Hogwarts wrapped his mind in another gentle hug, and Harry leaned into the contact. 'You are not alone, Salazar. You will never be alone.'

Harry smiled. He knew he was right. He took a deep breath, then got to his feet. He couldn't sit around waiting for his friends for the next six weeks. He might be only a child, but there was still plenty he could do. Especially here in Hogwarts.

There was one immediate matter to deal with. 'What happened in here?'

Harry had decided to land in the Chamber of Secrets out of sheer practicality. He hadn't been sure when the holidays for Hogwarts would be, and hadn't wanted to risk landing in the middle of a crowded corridor. As the Chamber was hidden, and sealed to any but a Parselmouth, it had seemed the most suitable location.

Which it was. It was also half flooded with water.

'Ah,' said Hogwarts. There was a clear note of embarrassment in her voice. 'Well, things got a little complicated when the Muggles invented plumbing. One of Selene's descendants had to rework the entire system.'

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Right. I'll deal with that later. What about Issa?'

'She is well,' Hogwarts assured him. 'But she is very old, and sleeps a great deal.'

Harry smiled. 'I'm not surprised. I'll wake her once I settle in.' He looked around and sighed. 'Looks like I'll be staying in the Room of Requirement after all.' He would make time to come down and visit Issa later, and he would also have to make sure his wards on the rest of the Chamber had held. There were things down here that were never meant to see the light of day again.

But that could wait for another day. Harry climbed to his feet, picked up his rucksack, and willed himself to the Room of Requirement.

Harry reappeared in an exact replica of his old chambers, and smiled. 'Thank you.'

'My pleasure,' Hogwarts replied.

Harry let out a contented sigh as he shrugged out of his rucksack. He had missed Hogwarts, and he had missed having his own space, and it was so good to be home. 'Have any students found this place yet?'

'Not for many years,' said Hogwarts with a chuckle. 'Even the teachers have only ever stumbled across it by accident.'

Harry smirked. 'Rowena will be pleased to hear that.' He started taking his clothes out of his rucksack, then paused. Looking at the stained and baggy cast-offs made him think of the Dursleys, and he had no intention of thinking about those people unless he absolutely had to. 'Do we still keep spare robes?'

There was a slight pause before Hogwarts replied. 'We do. But, Salazar, there is a house-elf outside who wishes to speak with you.'

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. 'I should have expected that.' He set the clothes down on the bed and took a deep breath. 'Let them in.'

Hogwarts touched his mind in a brief second of comfort, then the door swung open to reveal an old house-elf. He was dressed in a clean tea towel with the Hogwarts crest on it, and his eyes went as wide as saucers when he caught sight of Harry. Harry smiled and knelt down so they were at eye level.

"Hello," he said gently. "Please come in. What is your name?"

The house-elf visibly swallowed and took a few steps into the room. "I is called Pento," he said.

Harry nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Pento. Why are you here?"

Pento hesitated, then lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze properly. "We house-elves felt the old Master return," he said clearly. "We did not understand, but we are here to serve, and serve we will, if that is Master's wish."

For a moment, Harry could only stare at him. The house-elves were bound to Hogwarts, and so Harry had guessed that they would be alerted to his presence, but he hadn't expected them to recognise him. Pento's ears fell. "Have we displeased, Master?" he asked tentatively.

Harry blinked and shook his head. "No, Pento. Not at all." He took a breath. "Thank you for your service. All I ask is that you do not tell anyone that I am here."

Pento nodded vigorously. "I understand, Master." He gave Harry a warm smile. "All of Hogwarts is happy that you is home."

Harry suddenly found it impossible to speak around the lump in his throat. "I'm very happy to be home too, Pento."

Pento tilted his head to one side, and studied Harry for a long minute. "Master needs looking after," he said suddenly. "Master has not been happy in a long time." His eyes narrowed as they took in Harry's clothes. "Pento will send elves to help Master." He bowed very low, then disappeared with a loud crack.

Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head. He had forgotten how protective house-elves could be of masters they felt deserved it. Not for the first time he mentally thanked Helga for being so passionate in her advocacy of house-elf rights. He, Godric and Rowena had learned easily as much from her as she had from them. None of them had treated house-elves badly to begin with, all their families having taught them better than that, but Helga was something else.

The thought of his friends sent a sharp pang through Harry's chest. He missed them more than he could say. His hands curled into fists, and he felt Hogwarts' silent support. He would find them again. No matter how long it took.

In the meantime, however, he had a lot of catching up to do.

Chapter Text

Albus Dumbledore frowned.

Unlike some of his colleagues, frowning was not Albus' expression of choice. He much preferred to solve problems with twinkling eyes, a genial smile, and enough nonsense that people ended up too confused to argue. However, while that method worked very well on witches, wizards, Muggles, and anyone else who happened to argue with him, it was far less effective on inanimate objects.

Which was why Albus was reduced to frowning at the small silver device lying motionless on his desk.

Albus had many such devices. Most were tied to the Hogwarts wards, or were alarms relating to his various other positions. Being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, for example, dictated that he could always be contacted in case of an emergency. This one, however, was different. It was the only tied to a specific individual. It was extremely basic, Albus had felt uncomfortable with even a limited breach of privacy, but when the individual in question was Harry Potter, Albus had reluctantly decided that the intrusion was necessary. He had done his best to limit it though. All the device told him was that Harry was within his relatives' wards, and that he was safe.

In all the time Harry had been with the Dursleys the device had never so much as twitched. That lunchtime though, Albus had returned to his office after a long session in court to find the silver glowing a soft amber. Since Albus had set it to turn bright crimson if Harry was ever in real danger, Albus had been confused, but not particularly alarmed.

That had changed when he investigated further and found that the wards on Number 4 Privet Drive had shattered beyond repair. Albus had been on the verge of immediately Apparating to Little Whinging, when he realised that, despite the state of the blood wards, all indications were that Harry Potter was not in danger. In fact, he was as safe as he had ever been.

Albus rested his chin on his fingertips and considered the matter. Harry was safe. That was the most important thing. However, something had clearly happened at Privet Drive, and Albus had to find out what. He was just debating whether to ask Minerva to visit or to go in person when the entire castle was rocked by a pulse of pure magic and every alarm on Albus' desk started screaming.

Albus was on his feet immediately, drawing on his connection with the wards in an attempt to find the source of the outburst, but his mind was racing. All the students had left the previous week, along with most of the teachers. Even Argus had gone to Cornwall for the holidays. The only people currently in the castle were himself, Minerva, and the house-elves, and none of them should be capable of this. He reached out, but another burst of magic made him stagger back with a cry.

Anger, pain, despair, fury... The emotions tore through the castle with such ferocity that Albus had to break his connection. He leaned on the desk, his head pounding and thoughts whirling. Who could possibly be responsible for this? And how?

From what seemed like a very great distance he heard footsteps, then the door was flung open.

"Albus, what is going on?"

Albus shook his head, and straightened up in time to meet Minerva McGonagall's anxious gaze. "I do not know," he said flatly. "I cannot isolate the source of the disturbance."

Minerva stared at him. "What? How is that possible?"

Albus could only shake his head again. He hated not knowing something, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Minerva took a step closer. "All the ghosts can feel it," she said. "I passed Sir Nicholas and the Friar on the way up. In all these years I've never seen them so agitated."

Albus rubbed at his eyes. "I am not surprised. Whoever is doing this has some connection to Hogwarts, but I cannot for the life of me understand how."

The thought was more than a little terrifying. He waited for Minerva's input, but his deputy didn't reply. Albus frowned. "Minerva?"

Minerva was staring out the window, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Albus," she whispered.

Albus followed her gaze, and his mouth fell open. The previously blue skies were now dark with thick storm clouds, and trees were whipping to and fro in a ferocious gale. Even as the two stunned professors watched, the heavens opened and rain began to fall, lightly at first, but soon it was coming down in heavy sheets. Lightning lit the sky, followed almost immediately by a dull rumble of thunder, and Minerva turned her dazed face towards him.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?"

Deep in the library, Harry Potter was heedless of the devastation he was causing. He was staring at the books in front of him, his hands curled into fists, and shaking so hard he could barely think.

"Hated Muggles and Muggleborns," he spat. "Hid a monster in the school to murder them all."

'Salazar,' Hogwarts tried, but Harry barely heard her.

"Left the school after duelling Godric over blood purity!"

'Salazar-'

"Slytherin is the home of Dark wizards in training, Gryffindors are heroes, Ravenclaws are know-it-alls, and Hufflepuffs are too pathetic to go anywhere else?"

Harry gave up trying to control himself. Every window in the library shattered, and the books in front of him went flying. Harry felt Hogwarts trying to get his attention, but the storms was free now and he threw himself into it. All the rage and horror and despair of the last hour overflowed, and all Harry could do was ride it out.

It didn't take long. Harry's young body simply couldn't channel the magic necessary for maintaining a storm of that intensity. Bare minutes later the thunder and lightning died, and the rain was fading to a light drizzle, and Harry was drained to the point of numbness.

"How did this happen?" he whispered.

It wasn't true. None of it. Yes, he had hated Muggles, but they had murdered his family right before him! They had condemned their own kin simply because they were different. And there were so many others. Helga had done nothing but help the people of her village, and they had nearly killed her for it. If Salazar hadn't been there... And how many others had died because Muggles hated anyone who wasn't exactly like them?

Harry forced himself to breathe deeply. Yes, he had been wary of Muggleborns, but Helga had opened his eyes. After all, Muggleborns were even more at risk from Muggles than pure bloods or half-bloods. At least those with magical heritage knew what was going on, and how to control their powers. Muggleborns hadn't been nearly so lucky.

That was why it had been so important that Hogwarts be a refuge for all children with magic. Salazar had never argued with that. He certainly wouldn't have fought Godric and let the school over it.

That was another thing Harry couldn't understand. He and Godric had fought all the time, but that was what brothers did. They understood each other, and the duel that day had been nothing out of the ordinary. It was pure bad luck that Salazar had been killed before he had had a chance to return.

Harry shivered, and forced that memory aside. He knew better than to think about his death.

But how could anyone think he would willingly leave his home? Or the only real family he had ever had?

Harry stared round at the destruction he had caused, and choked back a sob. How had everything gone so wrong?

There was a very tentative brush against his mind, and Harry flinched.

"Sorry," he whispered.

He was instantly engulfed in a warm mental hug, and Harry had to smile. Hogwarts, at least, didn't care what the books said about him. She knew the truth. And so would his friends.

In the meantime, he couldn't afford to lose control again. Harry sighed, and with the last of his concentration repaired the broken windows with a wave of his hand. The effort left him dizzy, and he made a mental note to obtain a wand as soon as possible. From what he had gathered he was too young to go out and buy one, and the gods only knew what had happened to his original ones, but there were bound to be some in the Room of Requirement. With any luck one would suit his needs well enough until he could disguise himself and buy one properly.

Until then, he would just have to be careful. Sighing, Harry dragged his aching body out of the chair and began to gather up the scattered books. Considering the chaos he had caused in the wards it was unlikely that Headmaster Dumbledore would be able to isolate his presence in the library, but there was no point in being overtly obvious.

But although Harry's rage had faded, he knew it would be a long time before he came to terms with what had happened to his name and house. After all, they had been the only things he had ever been truly proud of. Without those, what was he?

One thing Harry was certain of though, was that he was going to make this right.

"Anything?"

Albus blew out an exhausted breath and sat back in his chair. "I am afraid not."

Minerva sank down into the chair opposite him and fixed him with a concerned look. "Albus, how could someone be in Hogwarts and affecting the wards so severely without you being alerted to it?"

Albus shook his head slowly. "I do not know," he said slowly. "The only thing I can think of is that the intruder was not a threat to this school?"

"Not a threat?" Minerva exclaimed. "Albus, you felt that power!"

"I did," Albus confirmed. "But I also felt that power being carefully diverted away from the house-elves, and even from us." Minerva opened her mouth, but Albus held up a hand. "I truly do not believe that this intruder intended any harm to anyone in this castle."

Minerva's eyes narrowed. "And what about that storm?" she demanded. "You can't tell me that was a normal occurrence?"

Albus shook his head. "No," he agreed softly. "That...that was something I thought impossible."

While a degree of control over the elements were fairly common among talented wizards, every child in their world knew better than to play with the weather itself. Even Albus, powerful as he was, had never dared to meddle with such things. He had thought the stories of wizards who could do such things legends at most.

Minerva had gone very pale. "But how could such a person come here undetected?"

"I don't know," said Albus quietly. "But should they attempt to cause harm to anyone in this school, they will come to regret it."

Minerva held his gaze for a minute, then let out a long breath. "I will alert Filius, Pomona, and Severus to what has happened," she said. "We will take it turns to stay, just in case."

Albus smiled at her. "Thank you, Minerva. This is one threat which may require all our strength."

Minerva sighed. "I just hope you are right, and that this person means us no harm." She rose to her feet and straightened her green robes. "If that is all, Albus?"

Albus made a split-second decision. "Actually, Minerva, there was one other little matter."

Very slowly, Minerva turned back to face him. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this," she said grimly.

Albus winced mentally, but he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. "It appears something has happened to Harry Potter."

The look Minerva shot him could have frozen a Dementor in its tracks. Albus sighed and braced himself. This was not going to go well.

Harry was silent for several minutes as Hogwarts recounted the conversation between the Headmaster and his deputy. He was back in the Room of Requirement, nibbling from the 'light' lunch the house-elves had brought up for him. Honestly, sometimes he thought he was doomed to have people always demanding he put on weight, but there were more important things to be worrying about than people mothering him.

'Do you trust Dumbledore?' he asked, when Hogwarts finished.

'He would do anything for the students of this school,' Hogwarts replied immediately. 'He is intelligent and powerful, and is perhaps the only person that Voldemort ever feared.'

Harry's lip curled. He had come across Voldemort, and therefore himself, in the library, and the accounts he had read had very nearly triggered another outburst. Harry had long ago sworn to stop any Dark wizards who threatened innocents. Murdering Lily and James Potter had simply moved Voldemort to the top of the list. But at least Harry now knew how his parents had died, and why Dumbledore was so concerned about his disappearance.

What he didn't know, though, was why the man had sought to place him with his magic-hating relatives.

'He thought he was doing what was best for you.'

Harry sighed. Sometimes it was annoying how well Hogwarts knew him. 'He thought placing with me with people who hate the essence of what I am was best?'

'He did not make the decision lightly,' said Hogwarts pointedly. 'He and Minerva have had many discussions about it, but the fact remains that your mother's sacrifice created a very powerful form of protection.'

'I am familiar with blood wards,' Harry reminded her. 'And I can understand why he didn't want me growing up in the magical world.' He had read of the Death Eater attacks even after Voldemort's disappearance. Even hidden, he would have put any magical family who took him in at risk, and then there was the fact that vanquishing the most feared Dark wizard of their generation might well have gone to anybody's head. As much as Harry hated to admit it, he could understand Dumbledore's reasons for placing him with his Muggle relatives.

That didn't change the fact that said relatives were vastly unsuited to raising a magical child. If Harry hadn't faced much worse in his first life he might have snapped long ago.

'He still has plans for you.'

Harry just nodded. Dumbledore seemed like the sort of man who had to be in control, and if Voldemort really wasn't dead then the Headmaster was hardly likely to let his little saviour go his own way.

Harry wasn't sure if he and Dumbledore were going to agree on very much, but he did agree that Voldemort wasn't dead.

'What are you going to do?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'I'm not going back there. The wards when broke when I left; there'd be no point. And I'm not going to tell him where I am.'

Hogwarts' voice took on a reproachful edge. 'He's going to worry.'

Harry shrugged. 'He knows I'm alive. He'll know where I am when I start here in two years. Until then, it serves him right.'

If Hogwarts had eyes Harry had no doubt she'd be rolling them, but he didn't care. Dumbledore could try to control him all he wanted, but he was going to have at least a couple of years of peace.

Besides, he was allowed to be a bit vindictive. He was only eight after all.

Chapter Text

Minerva McGonagall stared at the perfectly kept street and sighed.

Minerva didn't disapprove of the order. Unlike certain colleagues, she was quite capable of appreciating a neighbourhood where the residents clearly took pride in appearances. Magic was wonderful, certainly, but the quiet little Muggle street was pleasant enough.

Unfortunately, Minerva was very aware that some of the residents were not.

Honestly, she had never completely agreed with placing Harry with his relatives. She could understand Albus' reasoning; the boy had been safe here, and she had enough memories of what James Potter had been like when he first came to Hogwarts to be glad that his son wouldn't have the chance to let his fame go to his head, but she had still been uneasy. Minerva had met the entire Evans family when she introduced Lily to the magical world, and she was aware of the effect it had on Petunia. She had hoped the woman would have been able to look past her resentment, and maybe she would have, if her husband had not been equally disturbed by the wizards he had encountered. Minerva had loved James like a nephew, but he and Sirius Black were not the people she would have chosen to introduce Vernon Dursley to magic.

Minerva shivered, and shook her head sharply. There was nothing to be done about the past, but she could at least do something for their son now. Taking a deep breath, she strode up to Number 4 and rang the doorbell.

There was silence for a few seconds, then the door opened and Minerva came face to face with Petunia Evans for the first time in over thirty years.

Minerva felt a brief surge of pity. The awkward girl she had met all those years ago had grown into a tall woman with blonde hair, a long neck, and unfortunately large front teeth. Growing up with a sister like Lily couldn't have been easy for the poor woman. Petunia's pale eyes, so different from her sister's, widened.

"You!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?"

She didn't give the woman a chance to answer. She brushed past easily, taking in the strictly ordered hallway before entering the living room. That too was perfectly kept, but Minerva's eyes narrowed as she scanned the photographs decorating the walls and mantelpiece. There were many of Petunia, Vernon and their son, but none of a little boy with James' face and Lily's eyes. A dozen of Dudley Dursley, and not a single sign of any other boy living in the house.

Minerva couldn't blame Harry for running away in the slightest.

"He's not here."

Minerva turned to see Petunia standing the doorway. Her thin arms were folded across her chest, and she was watching Minerva with undisguised wariness. "The boy," she said, at Minerva's look. "I assume that's why you're here."

Minerva didn't bother to deny it. "When did you last see him?"

"Yesterday morning, before we left for school," said Petunia curtly. "He was late, so Dudley and I left without him."

Minerva bit back the urge to point out that Harry was only eight years old. There were more important things to worry about. "Did he go to school?"

"No." Her lips pursed. "The school called me, but he was gone by the time I got home. I thought he had gone with one of your lot."

"Professor Dumbledore told you that it wasn't safe for him with us," Minerva pointed out. "We had nothing to do with this."

Petunia's eyes widened ever so slightly, before her expression closed and she looked away. "We haven't seen him," she repeated. "If he ever does come back, I will contact you." The expression on her face made it quite clear that she wasn't expecting him to, but Minerva was slightly surprised by the fact that she would be willing to take him again.

"Can you tell me anything about him?" she asked. "It may help us to work out where he has gone."

Petunia shook her head. "He doesn't talk to us. Or to anyone, really."

Minerva thought of how cheerful Lily always was, and how confident James had been and her chest ached. "I see." She considered pressing the matter, but Petunia was looking more and more tense with every passing moment. "Thank you for your time, Petunia."

Petunia twitched slightly at the use of her name, but jerked her head in acknowledgement. It wasn't until she had opened the door that she spoke. "Do you know if he's safe?"

Minerva blinked, but covered her surprise quickly. "He is," she assured the younger woman. "We do not know exactly where he is, but we do know that he is not in any danger."

Petunia held her gaze for a moment, then a little of the tension seemed to leave her body. "Thank you." Then the door shut, and Minerva was left alone on the doorstep.

Minerva sighed and began to head down the street. Petunia might care more for Harry than even she realised, but it was clear that the boy's childhood had not been a happy one. It really was no wonder he had left. Minerva was almost glad that they had no idea where he had gone; at least she wouldn't have to face sending him back to that place.

One thing was certain. If Harry Potter ever did return, Minerva was going to do whatever she could to make up for this.

Harry, meanwhile, was enjoying the best summer he had had in his current lifetime. Hogwarts was delighted to have him back, and the house-elves had welcomed him with open arms. Harry had been bemused at first, wondering why they weren't terrified at the sudden reappearance of the evil founder, but Hogwarts had set him straight.

'I know you are no threat,' she had said, when Harry finally worked out how to ask what was going on. 'And they are bound to me just as you are. Unless you completely change who you are, they will continue to trust you as completely as I do.'

Harry had been too touched by her words to speak, but the elves themselves had soon proven the castle right. Pento had assigned a young female elf called Teaky to look after him, and Teaky had taken her duties very seriously. She had been horrified at Harry's clothes, and had replaced all his ragged hand-me-downs with proper robes within two hours of meeting him, much to Harry's amusement and gratitude. She was also the main party responsible for the 'fatten up Harry' campaign, a mission that the other elves had taken very much to heart. After years of surviving off of the absolute basics, the attention was quite welcome, even if Harry had initially struggled with feelings of being smothered, but Teaky had made sure to give him the space he needed and the two soon got along as well as Harry ever had with the elves in his first life.

Not only was Harry being well-looked after, he also had plenty to keep him occupied. One of the first things he had done was to thoroughly review the wards and protective enchantments around the school. For the most part his work had survived remarkably well, but there was some inevitable damage from the last thousand years that Harry had immediately started planning to rectify. There were also traces of a nasty curse tied into one of the minor wards, but Harry had been unable to properly identify it without a wand.

Hence why finding a suitable wand was the other thing at the top of Harry's to-do list. And since going wandering around in his current appearance was hardly the best plan in the world, the Room of Requirement it was.

So the day after his relocation found Harry sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed staring out at the sea of wands in front of him.

"How could this many people be stupid enough to lose their wands?"

Hogwarts snorted. 'You know what students are like. Some were merely careless, others got new ones that fitted better and didn't care to dispose of their old ones properly. But really, Salazar, are you complaining?'

Harry had to smile. "Not at all, my dear." At least there was bound to be something he could work with. Shaking his head, Harry picked up the closest wand and set to work.

It took nearly an hour, but Harry finally settled on a ten inch wand made of pine. To his delight, it responded well to even non-verbal spells, and some more extensive tests proved it could handle all fields of magic more than willingly. Harry smiled at it as he collected the rest of the wands in a neat pile and tidied them away. Being without a wand had been without one of his limbs, and the new freedom the added versatility would grant him was euphoric.

There was one spell in particular he had wanted to try the moment he came across it the previous day. Harry stood up, concentrated hard, then flicked his wand in a circle around his head.

"Praetereo," he whispered.

The resulting sensation was peculiar to say the least. Harry felt like someone had doused him in cold water, but any discomfort was forgotten the moment he looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a faint outline. Harry reversed the charm and grinned at his reflection. "I love magic."

It took a couple more hours of practice, but Harry was eventually satisfied with his ability to perform the charm non-verbally so that would render him completely invisible, as long as he didn't make any sudden movements. Harry still wasn't sure how he had come to exist in this time and body, but if it gave him the chance to learn spells like that then he wasn't complaining in the slightest.

Armed with his wand and the Disillusionment Charm, Harry started to risk going further afield. He wandered the corridors of Hogwarts at will, and it was on these journeys that he caught his first glimpses of the current staff. Headmaster Dumbledore's unusual sense of style made him smile, but the sheer power he exuded left Harry confident that at least this Headmaster could protect their students. He was even more reassured by the kindness with which the man treated the house-elves though; that protection should extend to every inhabitant of the castle, and Dumbledore seemed to agree. Harry still wasn't happy with his own treatment at Dumbledore's hands, but he was willing to reserve judgement until he met the man properly.

Harry also found chances to observe the four heads of the houses. He approved of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, both of whom clearly knew exactly what they were doing, and who cared for the students just as much, if not more so, than Dumbledore did. He also liked Professor Flitwick, whose irrepressible nature and undeniable talent reminded him so much of Godric that Harry had to immediately flee to the Room of Requirement to get his emotions under control. It took him longer than he would have liked, but Harry was left with the confidence that Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were in good hands.

Slytherin, however, was another matter.

There was no doubt that Severus Snape was a very talented wizard. Harry could sense the power the man possessed, and he observed enough conversations undetected to see that Snape had the intelligence to match it. In those respects, he was worthy of leading Slytherin house. However, Harry could also feel the sharp bite of Dark magic that clung to the man, and he recognised the aura of bitterness and guilt all too well. It was a dangerous combination, and Harry decided to keep a very wary eye on Snape once the term started. He left the wizard's presence feeling uneasy, and more concerned than ever about the fate of his beloved house.

Harry wasn't left completely to his own devices though.

He had noticed the ghosts immediately, of course, and had been neither surprised nor annoyed by their presence. Ghosts were common enough in magical buildings, and Hogwarts was special even by magical standards. Besides, it made life more interesting for the students. He was less impressed that after ten centuries no one had managed to get rid of the bloody poltergeist, but at least the spirit limited itself to relatively harmless acts of mischief. All in all, Harry was quite content to avoid and ignore the spirit population of Hogwarts until he could risk appearing as an actual student.

At least, he was until he recognised one of the ghosts.

Harry had been on his way back from the library when he met her. The castle had been deserted but for the house-eves, Dumbledore away on one of his regular excursions, and Harry hadn't seen any need to waste energy Apparating around the school. He had been on his way up to the seventh floor when the ghost popped out of the wall in front of him.

Ordinarily Harry would have Apparated away immediately. He'd done it once before, and had been slightly concerned when the ghost's head nearly fell off, but he was quick enough that nothing had come of it. He had been preparing to do the same when he happened to look in the ghost's face and everything seemed to stop.

"Helena?"

The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw froze in mid-air before slowly turning to peer down at him. "Who are you?" she demanded. Her eyes ran over him, and her lips thinned. "You are no student."

Harry swallowed. He had never expected to see anyone from his past, at least not in the same guise as they had before, but Helena… She was older than he remembered, but she was there and all the years seemed to disappear.

"Child," he said softly. "Do you not remember me?"

Helena stared. "Who are you?" she whispered. "No one has called me that-"

"In ten centuries," said Harry softly. He tilted his head back, missing the days when she barely used to reach his knee, and looked her straight in the eye. "Hello, Helena."

If ghosts could pale, Helena would have done so. As it was, she jerked backwards, eyes widening. "This…this is impossible… This is a joke. Peeves-!"

"You know better, Little One," said Harry.

It was the name only he had ever used for her, and it stopped her in her tracks. Slowly, very slowly, she dropped down until she could look Harry straight in the eye. "S-Salazar?"

Harry managed a smile. "Don't ask me how, but yes."

Helena shook her head. "This is impossible," she repeated. "You died."

Harry flinched. Her words conjured memories that were difficult to avoid. "I know," he managed. "And I am so, so sorry for leaving you all."

Helena swallowed. "Mother wept for you," she whispered. "Helga broke, and Godric never smiled the way he used to. I...I missed you." Her eyes searched his face. "How are you back?"

Harry's eyes were stinging, and he had to stop to wipe away tears. "I do not know," he said. "I did nothing. Eight years ago I woke, and when I was strong enough I came here and that is all I know."

"Then…Mother?"

"I don't know. I hope so. I am praying so," he added in a whisper.

"As will I," said Helena. "There is so much I need to say to her." She looked at him, and gave a small smile. "And even more I have to tell you."

Harry smiled at her. "I would like that. I have missed you."

"Me too." For a moment she looked as if she was going to say something, but then she shook her head. "But you have yet to introduce yourself. Who exactly are you now?"

Harry sighed, but she was going to have to know at some point. "Harry Potter."

Helena opened her mouth, then closed it again. Harry watched in growing amusement as she visibly struggled for words, then shook her head. "Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"The Boy Who Lived."

Harry pulled a face. "Please don't."

"The one who vanquished the Dark lord."

"Helena…"

Helena laughed then, a bright pure sound that Harry hadn't realised he had missed so much. "Only you, Uncle. Only you."

In the end, Harry could only laugh too.

Chapter Text

Days turned into weeks as Harry's summer passed in a blissful haze. He had originally planned to spend some time exploring the new magical world, but being at Hogwarts, where he was welcomed and accepted without hesitation, was enough that he felt no need for anything else. He spent hours in the library, easily dodging Dumbledore and the other teachers as he caught up on the centuries he had missed. History, politics, magical developments, anything, he devoured as much as he could get his hands on. If nothing else, he was going to have to keep up with Rowena somehow.

Meeting Helena had only made things better. After the shock of their respective situations had sunk in, both had been delighted by the second chance they had been given. Helena proved invaluable in catching Harry up with some of the changes that occurred at Hogwarts, and her glee at having their situations reversed was a joy to see after so many years.

Of course, it wasn't all easy going. Despite Harry's urgings Helena flatly refused to talk about her death, or about why she had chosen to return as a spirit. Harry couldn't really blame her, his own death was something he'd rather not think about given the choice, but not knowing made him feel sick to his stomach. It didn't help that he knew she was keeping something else from him too, something important, but he knew his niece well enough to know how stubborn she was. He would get the answers eventually, but it would take some time.

So Harry stuck to safe topics.

"You are sure that they will return?"

Relatively safe topics at least.

"I am not certain," Harry admitted. "But I did, and I made no provision to. There is a chance that the same may be true of them."

Helena's transparent face clearly betrayed her scepticism, but Harry could also see his own desperate hope in her eyes. Her hands clenched on her pearly dress, and she shook her head. "We will see," she said softly. She shook herself, and turned a small smile on him. "I am glad you are back at least."

Harry just about managed to smile back. As pleasant as it was to get a second chance at life, and to see Helena again, the thought of spending the next hundred years without his family was nigh on unbearable. Some might have told him to make new friends, but Harry was a man a thousand years out of time. How could he possibly go through life pretending to be a child, never letting anyone see him for who he truly was?

Salazar had tried that once, and it had not worked out well. Harry had no intention of making the same mistake twice.

Helena's next words drew Harry straight back to their earlier discussion.

"Maybe they will be one of the students arriving next week."

Harry stared at her. "Next week?"

Helena shot him a bemused look. "You didn't realise?"

Harry could only shake his head. He had run away from his relatives shortly before the start of the summer holidays. It seemed incredible that so many weeks could have passed without him noticing.

Helena grinned. "You'll like it here when the students are back, Uncle. Things have changed a bit."

"I have noticed something of the sort," said Harry dryly. "We will see."

Maybe Helena was right. Maybe he would hear the news he had been waiting for.

Harry kept his eyes open after that, and soon understood Helena's amusement. House-elves and teachers alike were running around with such purpose that it was a mark of just how distracted he was that he hadn't noticed the signs sooner. He noted with resignation that Helena was never going to let him forget it.

Overall though, Harry was too interested in what was going on to worry about what his niece thought of him. Preparing for a new year, with a new group of students, had always been equal parts exciting and terrifying, and from the atmosphere everywhere he went nothing had changed much. Of course some teachers seemed more excited than others, watching Professors Flitwick and Snape interact the night before the students were due to arrive was the most entertainment Harry had had all summer.

It was also a very welcome distraction from Harry's own nerves. He had been trying to stay calm about the prospect of new students arriving, but it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He knew better than to get his hopes up, but the idea that one or more of his friends might be arriving any day was intoxicating.

The day itself was even worse. The teachers had plenty to keep themselves busy, and the house-elves had even more to do, but Harry was too agitated even to read. Helena eventually got exasperated enough to send him down to the kitchens, where the house-elves graciously put him to work. He had never had much interest in cooking, unlike Helga, but it was enough like Potions that Salazar had always been able to manage and it was a better distraction than any he could think of.

Still, by the time Hagrid left to collect the students, Harry was a nervous wreck. He had hidden himself at the entrance of one of the secret passages in the Entrance Hall, and for once in his life was finding it almost impossible to sit still. He could feel Hogwarts' tolerant exasperation in the back of his mind, but to his relief the castle didn't try to make conversation. Soon a prickling at the edge of his awareness alerted him to the fact that Thestral-drawn carriages carrying the older students were entering the boundaries of the wards, and he shuffled closer to the edge of the tapestry. Harry knew that none of the older students were his friends, but he was still curious to see some of the people who had benefitted from their work.

Soon enough the students started making their way through the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall. Harry watched them fondly. They were different to the students he had taught. They were more open on the whole, more innocent, but they were just as excited to be back as the children he remembered.

He didn't recognise any of them. He hadn't expected to, and he wasn't even completely sure how he would, but it still hurt.

Harry slumped back against the passage wall, and tried to think. Helena had told him that first years were now brought round to the school via the lake. If that was true, then they should be reaching the first of the true wards very soon. If any of his friends were among them he would know soon enough.

Hopefully.

Harry hadn't prayed to anything for a long time. He did now.

And Hogwarts exploded into song.

'Welcome home!'

The storm of emotion sent Harry to his knees, but he didn't care. Someone else had returned. Someone else was home.

He wasn't alone.

"Who?" he whispered. "Who is it?"

Hogwarts laughed. 'You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, now would you?' Harry scowled, and he felt the warm brush of the castle's consciousness against his. 'It will only be a few minutes.'

Harry took a deep breath. He had waited this long. A little longer wouldn't hurt. He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his bruised knees, and hurried back to the edge of the passage. A quick glance out showed Professor McGonagall waiting to receive the new students, and Harry grimaced. Hopefully she would leave them alone for at least a few minutes. It would be impossible to speak with whoever had arrived before the Sorting otherwise.

'Calm, Salazar. All will be well.'

Harry rolled his eyes, but at that moment there was a booming knock on the door. Harry froze, mouth suddenly bone dry, and watched as the door swung open. About fifty children scuttled in, and Harry desperately scanned their faces for any sign of recognition. He skipped over those who were clearly awestruck, paused for a second on a pair of red-headed twins he just knew would be trouble-makers, then slid over to a dark-haired boy who looked up just in time to meet Harry's gaze.

If the fierce jolt of something settling place hadn't confirmed it, the brilliant smile that lit the boy's face was more than enough to settle all doubts.

'See?'

Harry barely heard her. McGonagall was shepherding the first years towards a small antechamber on the other side of the hall, but the boy had lagged until he was at the very back of the group. He shot a final wary look at the witch, then dashed across to the tunnel and let the tapestry fall to cover the entrance.

The next thing Harry knew, he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank God its you I missed you so much I'm so so sorry-"

"Godric," Harry wheezed. "Can't breathe."

But he was hugging back just as tightly, and had no intention of letting go any time soon. After so many years, something was right again.

"I'm sorry," Godric whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Me too. I never meant to leave you."

Somehow, Godric hugged him tighter. "Leave? You died, Salazar." He drew back, and looked Harry straight in the eye. "I should have been there."

"And we were both to blame," said Harry quietly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper." He forced the storm of emotions under control, and shook his head. "We can't do this now. You need to get Sorted."

Godric though, was too busy gaping at his forehead. "Salazar," he said slowly. "Please tell me that that isn't what I think it is."

Harry winced. Godric stared at him, then took a step back and looked him over properly. "And why are you here at all? You're still younger than me."

Harry sighed, but there was no way Godric would leave without at least some of the truth. "I was placed with my Muggle relatives after my parents died." He looked down, unwilling to meet Godric's gaze. "They don't like magic, so I left as soon as I could. I've been here all summer."

Godric swallowed, and pulled Harry into another hug. This time he didn't say anything, but the silent love and comfort was exactly what Harry needed.

"Next summer, you'll come home with me," Godric whispered after a minute. "My parents won't mind."

Harry suspected Godric's parents might disagree about that, but the words still sent a warm glow through his chest. Only Godric could make a promise like that. He was the only person Salazar would accept it from.

'I hate to interrupt,' Hogwarts murmured. 'But your absence has been noted.'

Godric grunted, his face setting into the mulish expression Harry knew so well, but Harry shook his head. "We can catch up later. Right now, you've already attracted too much attention."

Godric sighed, but stepped away. "It's fine, I'll say I got distracted. But I'll come and find you as soon as possible."

Harry smiled at him. "I can't wait."

Godric ruffled his hair fondly, easily dodging Harry's half-hearted attempts to swat him away, then paused at the tunnel entrance and glanced back. "Oh, and my name is Cedric now. Cedric Diggory."

"Cedric," Harry repeated. "At least it's easy to remember."

Cedric rolled his eyes, and disappeared in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry slumped back against the wall, and finally let the tears fall. Godric was back. Everything would be all right.

Harry only stayed for a few minutes before his stomach reminded him rather loudly that he hadn't eaten all day. He Apparated down to the kitchens, where the house-elves had already set aside a plate for him, and sat down out of the way to eat and watch them finish their preparations. House-elf magic was always fascinating to watch, especially in such large numbers.

He was distracted though by a sudden flare of confusion, and looked up.

"What's wrong?"

'Nothing,' said Hogwarts, after a moment. 'Godric just got Sorted.' Harry waited, but Hogwarts still sounded slightly bemused when she finally continued, 'He's in Hufflepuff.'

Harry froze with a forkful of potato halfway to his mouth. "He's what?"

Chapter Text

If the wait for the students to arrive had been difficult, the one for them all to get to sleep was torturous. Harry spent the hours pacing the Room of Requirement, completely unable to sit still.

Godric was here. Well, Cedric was here, but it didn't matter. His brother was here, and the future was looking far, far brighter than it had for a very long time.

"What's keeping him?" he muttered.

Amusement reverberated through his mind. 'He does have to wait for the rest of his house to go to bed. He'll be here soon enough.'

Harry sighed, and kept pacing. He'd already had to convince himself not to sneak into the Hufflepuff dormitories. The chances of him getting caught were slim to say the least, but it was still safer for Godric to come to him.

Ten minutes later, his patience was rewarded when the door swirled into place. Harry spun round just as Godric, no Cedric, Harry had to get used to the name, entered the room.

Harry folded his arms, and fixed his friend with a flat look. "Hufflepuff?"

Cedric paused, then crossed the room in a few long strokes and pulled Harry into another hug. "I missed you," he muttered.

"You said that already," Harry pointed out, but he hugged back just as hard.

"Well, it's true." He drew back, and Harry was startled to see tears in his eyes. "You died," he whispered. "You died, and I wasn't there."

Harry swallowed. He had been trying not to think about that, but now that Godric was here he couldn't avoid it. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Cedric. And it wasn't mine either. It was just...how things turned out."

"How things turned out?" Cedric repeated. "You were murdered! And the last thing I said to you-"

"Doesn't matter," Harry interrupted. "Not any more." Cedric opened his mouth, but he remained quiet when Harry gripped his shoulder. "What happened in the past is done. We have a second chance now, and I don't want to waste time."

Cedric bit his lip. He was silent for a minute, then let his shoulders slump. "All right. Fine. But things will be different now. I swear on my life."

Harry's own vision turned blurry, and he hurried to wipe his eyes. "I know. We know better now."

Cedric smiled, and this time Harry was the one to go to him for a hug. He couldn't help it. Only Dudley got hugs at Privett Drive, and ghosts weren't very good at physical contact. Cedric's grip turned crushing for a moment, then he stepped back with clear reluctance.

"I still can't believe you're Harry Potter. Though I really shouldn't be surprised."

"Helena said the same thing," said Harry dryly.

Cedric nodded, his smile fading. "Helena…I saw her at the feast. How…?"

Harry grimaced. "She won't tell me. She knows who I am though. We'll get it out of her."

"Preferably before Rowena arrives," said Cedric grimly.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "You think she will? They will?"

Cedric squeezed his shoulders. "I don't see why not. It's not like we planned to, after all, and yet here we are."

Harry recognised the longing in his voice and swallowed. As wonderful as it was to have Godric back, things wouldn't be right until their friends joined them. "I hope so," he whispered.

They stood in silence for a minute, then Harry shook his head. "You distracted me. Hufflepuff?"

Cedric grinned, but his grey eyes remained serious. "I have reasons."

"Good ones?"

"When are my reasons not good ones?" He laughed at the expression on Harry's face, and threw himself into one of the armchairs. Once Harry followed suit, he continued, "Well, firstly, my parents are Hufflepuffs, and they will be over the moon."

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, and after a moment Cedric's smile faded. "But mainly because it isn't fair."

Harry frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Cedric sighed. "I know you grew up with Muggles, but you must have been catching up on everything since you got here. You've seen what people think of Hufflepuff."

Harry's hands clenched into fists. "I've been getting an idea."

It had enraged him just as much as his own house's tarnished reputation had. How the virtues of loyalty, hard work, and open-mindedness could possibly been seen as anything to be ashamed of were beyond him. Cedric's grey eyes were cold as ice.

"Everyone calls Hufflepuff the house for those who weren't good enough to go anywhere else," he said quietly. "We'll see if they say the same once I'm done."

Harry managed a faint smile at that. "Helga will appreciate it."

"She deserves no less. This should never have happened at all." He paused, and looked Harry straight in the eye. "And Hufflepuff is not the only one."

Harry didn't trust himself to reply, and so just nodded. Cedric leaned forward to grip his shoulder. "You will prove them otherwise," he said fiercely. "This is not your fault, Salazar."

Harry snorted. "No. Just my name and ideals that have been twisted beyond recognition." Magic cracked in the air, and he took a moment to control himself. "I don't know why we came back," he said. "But we will make the most of it."

Cedric gave a grim smile. "Hogwarts will be united again. I expect Rowena will return to Ravenclaw, and Helga will be happy wherever she decides. Whatever happens, between the four of us we can set things right."

Harry said nothing, but he let himself slump back against the soft cushions. Even with the enormity of the task facing them, just having some sort of plan, and someone to talk it over with was a relief. "It'll be strange with half of us in different houses, but it'll be a good change of perspective," he said. He let out a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "We will be fine."

Cedric hummed in agreement, and for a minute, they sat in silence. Eventually though, Cedric sighed and sat up.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened with you?"

Harry stiffened, but Cedric's eyes held nothing but compassion, and he took a moment to gather himself. Cedric deserved to know, and Harry needed to tell someone.

"I don't remember everything," he said quietly. "I remember my father telling my mother to flee with me. I remember her pleading for Voldemort to kill her instead. Then there was just green light."

Cedric drew in a sharp breath. "So it was the Killing Curse? How is that possible?"

Harry traced the pattern on the cushion, and shook his head. "I don't know. I suspect my mother did something, there were Blood Wards around the Dursleys' residence that were connected to me, but I never got the chance to examine them properly." His mouth twisted into a smile. "And now they are redundant, to say the least."

Cedric's jaw clenched, and Harry saw his hand move towards his wand. "Warding was never my strong point," he began, and his tone would have sent Dark lords running for cover, "but would I be correct in thinking that those ward rely on feelings of love and acceptance to attain their full potency?"

Harry made a mental note to never give his friend the Dursleys' address, and pushed himself to his feet. For some reason, he found it easier to think on the move this time round. "They were not as bad as they could have been. They did not want me there, and they made no attempts to pretend otherwise, but they were more neglectful than outright abusive."

"That's bad enough," Cedric snarled. "They are your family."

Harry gave him a small smile. "Cedric, I'm fine," he said gently. "Compared to the last time…" He trailed off with a shrug.

Cedric held his gaze for a long moment, then his shoulders slumped. "It is good to see you without the staff."

Harry closed his eyes. "I can run. I can climb. I might even try one of those brooms everyone likes so much." He shook himself, and looked at Cedric. "I'm never going back there. That's all I care about."

Cedric still looked like he wanted to curse the Dursleys into oblivion, but he contented himself with a shake of his head. "It's your call."

"Thank you." He dropped back into his chair and slumped against the cushions. "So what's your family like this time?"

"Well, I'm a pureblood," Cedric began. "My parents were both in Hufflepuff, as I said. My dad works for the Ministry of Magic, and Mum is studying for her Potions Mastery."

Harry brightened. "Really?"

Cedric shot him an amused look. "Yes, I'm sure she would be happy to catch you up."

Harry ran a sheepish hand through his hair. He would have to find a way to get some brewing done over the year. Cedric's expression made it quite clear he knew what his friend was thinking as he continued, "A couple of magical families live nearby. Mr. Lovegood has a daughter who's a year younger than you, but the Weasleys have seven children, four of whom are at Hogwarts now." He paused. "I think that's right. Yeah, Bill's left." He grinned. "The twins started this year. I expect they'll make life interesting."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Are they red-heads?"

Cedric laughed. "That's them. I think Mr. and Mrs Weasley were pleased to be rid of them for most of the year. At least they're all in Gryffindor, so Charlie and Percy can keep them under control."

Harry nodded, but his stomach twisted uncomfortably. He was glad Cedric had had a good life so far, but part of him couldn't help but wonder about his new friends. He knew that Cedric needed friends his own age. He couldn't afford to be isolated, and the more contacts they could make around their fellow students, the better.

Jealousy was not an attractive trait, Harry reminded himself firmly. Cedric certainly didn't deserve it.

"That reminds me," said Cedric suddenly. "We need to go to Diagon Alley at some point."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

Cedric's grin was all too familiar. "Well, we'll have to go to Hogsmeade too, but there's a lot more choice in Diagon Alley." He frowned suddenly. "It's a shame they won't sell you a wand until you get your Hogwarts letter."

"I do have one that works with me," said Harry absently, but his mind was whirling. "Anyway, I have no money."

Cedric's smile faded. "Harry, your parents were rich," he said. "At least, your father's family was. Even without a key, a blood test from the goblins will allow you access to your vault."

Harry had known the Dursleys were lying about his parents and their wastrel status. Somehow, the confirmation still hurt. His hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists. "Yes. I'll do that."

Cedric nodded. "I'll take you. I should be all right with Side-Along Apparation, especially now that I've got a wand. Though I do need to get a secondary one."

They had all learned the value of having a back-up wand. Harry managed a faint smile. "I think Hogwarts can help with that."

Right on cue, the array of wands that Harry had tested at the start of summer appeared on a table in front of them. Cedric beamed. "I am so glad to be back. Thank you, Hogwarts."

They both received a brief caress in acknowledgement, and Cedric began testing the wands. "This is very useful, but also quite worrying."

"That was my reaction," Harry admitted. "What's your official wand?"

"Aspen, twelve and a half inches, with a dragon heartstring core," Cedric rattled off. He touched another wand, shook his head, and moved on to the next one. "Good for Duelling and Charms work, so I can't imagine why it chose me." Harry snorted, and Cedric grinned at him. "You'll be pleased to know that the Ollivander family is still in business."

"That is good news," Harry agreed. The family had been fine wandmakers in their time, and no doubt their skills had only increased over the intervening centuries.

Cedric eventually managed to get a satisfactory response from a laurel wand, and he was smiling as he banished the remaining wands.

"I'm almost hoping someone does try to steal it."

"Why does it not surprise me that that that is the only piece of wandlore you ever managed to remember?" asked Harry dryly.

Cedric pulled a face at him, but he couldn't keep the satisfied smile from his face as he ran through a series of basic spell chains with his new wand. He nodded approvingly at the results, but then his expression suddenly turned serious. "Harry, have you thought about what you're going to do for the next two years?"

"Of course I have," said Harry with a huff. "What do you take me for?"

Cedric rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Harry relented, and shrugged. "I'll read. I've got a lot of catching up to do. And I want to keep an eye on some of the teachers. I won't have our students receiving substandard teaching."

"No arguments here," said Cedric grimly. "Overall, Hogwarts has retained its good reputation, but I've heard some things from the Weasleys that concern me."

Harry set his jaw. That would not do. "We'll see what we can do."

They might be only nine and eleven respectively, but they were also Founders of Hogwarts. Woe betide any who underestimated them within the walls of their home.

The moment was broken when Harry let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Cedric grinned, but a moment later, found himself yawning even louder.

"I'd forgotten how tiring being eleven was," he grumbled. "And I've got classes tomorrow."

"Yes, however will you cope?"

Cedric flicked a minor jinx at him, which Harry deflected with a wave of his hand. "Says the one who will get to stay in bed." He grinned suddenly. "Though we really should start up our morning sparring sessions again."

"I've been looking forward to it," said Harry, and he actually meant it. It had been a constant of their lives for nearly fifty years, and he had missed it more than he could say. Then his mood darkened, and he sighed. "And we are going to need it."

Cedric said nothing, but Harry sensed rather than saw every muscle tense. He sighed again. "We need to find out what happened to Voldemort."

Cedric's eyes narrowed. "You don't think he was destroyed."

"Dark Lords aren't destroyed easily," said Harry quietly. "We both know that. And by sacrifice born of a mother's love?"

"It does leave some unanswered questions," Cedric agreed. He cocked his head to one side, sharp eyes never leaving Harry's. "You know Dumbledore would probably be able to tell you something."

"He's more likely to send me back to the Muggles than tell me anything," Harry snapped. "I'm nine, remember? No-one will tell me anything."

He couldn't wait to grow up. Cedric nodded ruefully. "It can be frustrating. My parents think I'm mature for my age, but they only take it so far." He shook his head. "Not that I can blame them. They'd think me insane."

Harry sighed, already regretting his outburst. "We could prove it, but…"

"It would cause more problems, especially for you," said Cedric immediately. "We'll have to wait to establish ourselves before we think about anything else." He sighed, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I hope the girls get here soon."

Harry's chest ached, and he had to look away. "At least we know they're all right, if they are here," he said quietly. "They haven't felt the need to run away." That was just him. Again.

Harry shook his head firmly. Self-pity was pointless. He stood up, and nudged Cedric with his toe. "You should head back. Classes start in the morning."

Cedric pulled a face. "First year classes," he grumbled, as he dragged himself up. "We're going to have to find something more interesting to do over the year."

Harry smirked at him. "I'm sure we can come up with something."

Cedric grinned. "Oh, I think so." He turned towards the door, and then paused. "It's good to see you again, Salazar," he said softly. "We missed you."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Cedric hesitated, then darted back back to pull him into a tight hug. "Don't you dare get yourself killed again," he whispered into Harry's hair. "I...we can't go through that. Not again."

"I'll do my best," Harry said. Cedric's arms tightened, and Harry closed his eyes.

That was the only promise he could make.

Chapter Text

One of the nice things about the students being back, Harry reflected, was not having to Disillusion himself as he made his way through his castle. In his plain back robes and with his scar covered, he looked just like any other first year, albeit one that was a bit smaller than usual. The portraits took no notice of him, and the other students accepted him as one of them without question. He did have to be more careful with the teachers, but they were easy enough to avoid. He still had to Disillusion himself once he got to the library, or run the risk of getting drawn into conversation, but that was good practice.

It was in the library that Cedric found him after their first day of lessons. Harry had hidden himself among the advanced Runes books right at the back, and was happily catching up on everything he'd missed when his friend dropped his bag next to him.

"Binns has to go."

Harry bade a silent farewell to Leonardo da Vinci, and set the book aside in favour of peering at his friend. "Which one is that?"

"History of Magic," said Cedric shortly. "It was the worst lesson I've ever had in my life."

Harry frowned. History was too important a subject to be neglected. The Muggle-borns in particular needed to understand the world they had become a part of, but it was equally important for those raised in the magical world to get a proper, unbiased education.

"In what way?" he asked. "Was he a bad teacher, or…?"

"He spent an hour droning on and on about the goblin rebellions! He didn't introduce himself, he didn't lay out a proper lesson plan, he just started talking and didn't stop! I knew some of what he was talking about from my grandmother, but everyone else in there was completely lost. If I was a Muggle-born and that was my first exposure to magic I'd leave and never come back!"

"Calm down," Harry hissed. They were well away from curious ears, but Cedric's shouting wouldn't go unnoticed. Cedric lowered his voice, but he was still fuming.

"And he even manages to make goblin rebellions boring. I tell you, Harry, half the class was asleep within twenty minutes. He's the least inspiring person I've ever met! I'm amazed anyone passes any exam in that class, let alone their OWLs and NEWTs."

Harry blinked, thrown by the sudden detour to animals. "Excuse me?"

Cedric opened his mouth, then paused and shook his head. "Sorry, keep forgetting you didn't grow up with this stuff. Students take OWL exams in fifth year, and more advanced NEWTs in seventh year." Harry nodded in understanding, and Cedric returned to his diatribe, "But hardly anyone takes History to NEWT level, and Binns' lessons are considered a chance to catch up on sleep. It cannot continue."

Harry shook his head. "I agree. We'll think of something." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Any chance he could be persuaded to resign?"

Cedric gave him a peculiar look. "If no-one has been able to manage it in the last two hundred years, I doubt we'll have much luck."

Harry nodded, then blinked and stared at him. "What?"

He had to have misheard. Cedric stared at him in complete confusion for a moment, then his expression cleared and he laughed. "Oh, Harry."

"What?" Harry demanded. He raised his wand. "I have enough control over my magic to hex you, you know."

Cedric controlled himself, and shook his head. "Sorry, I needed that. Harry, Binns is a ghost."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Having a ghost teach History is actually quite a good idea."

"Of course you would say that," said Cedric fondly, but his expression soon turned serious. "The problem is, Binns refuses to accept that he is a ghost. As a result, he refuses to adapt to his circumstances in any way, including updating his curriculum. From what I can tell, he doesn't cover anything more recent than the mid-nineteenth century, not even the times of Grindelwald or Voldemort." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "And he really is a dreadful teacher."

Harry tapped his wand thoughtfully against his knee. "I wonder why Dumbledore hasn't asked him to move on. He must realise that our students' education is more important than being able to claim a ghost as a professor."

"It's probably more a case of misplaced loyalty than any sense of prestige," Cedric suggested. "But you're right. Things can't continue."

There was a logical solution, and Harry didn't hesitate to suggest it. "I'll have a talk with him. I will try to talk him into moving on first," he added quickly, when Cedric raised an eyebrow. "I'll save those...other measures for later."

"Like Peeves," Cedric muttered. "I still can't believe no-one's gotten rid of him yet."

Harry pulled a face. As amusing as they had found the poltergeist at first, he was absolutely impossible to control. At least he was as protective of the castle and students as they were, in his own unique way. Harry shook his head and returned to the matter at hand.

"When should we do it?"

Cedric pursed his lips thoughtfully. "This weekend."

"Thank you, that gives me so much time to prepare."

Cedric nudged him with the toe of his boot. "It also gives our students time to get a decent teacher this year. Besides, since when have you struggled to exorcise a ghost?"

"It's the principle of the thing," said Harry, with a sniff. "Will you be helping?"

Cedric nodded. "I'll find someone to cover for me. I doubt they'll suspect a first year anyway, but there's no point taking risks."

Harry smirked at him. "So you were listening all those years. I was beginning to wonder."

Cedric shot a light hex at him, that Harry deflected with flick of his wand. It hit the nearest bookshelf, and they winced as one.

"Maybe we should stick to sparring in the Room of Requirement," said Cedric sheepishly. "Rowena will murder us otherwise."

Harry snorted in agreement, and cast a quick Cleaning Charm at the shelf. "We'll add it to the list of things not to tell her." He glanced round to check they hadn't attracted any unwanted attention, before returning to the topic of discussion. "So Binns needs to go. Any other areas of concern?"

Cedric twirled his wand absently as he thought about it. "I've had Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall today, and they were all excellent. Astronomy isn't until Wednesday night, but I haven't heard any complaints about Sinistra." He paused, and looked at Harry. "The upper years did warn us all that Snape is incredibly biased towards Slytherin."

Harry had to force his fingers to relax on his wand. "I have observed him in passing," he said quietly. "There is a darkness in him that I do not like." He was silent for a moment, then sighed. "I will try to observe his classes, and see how he interacts with each of the houses." Some favouritism was understandable, but none of the other heads of house had the reputation that Snape did.

Cedric's lips thinned. "Be careful. He isn't one to cross." Harry nodded, and after a moment Cedric continued, "I will try to talk to the older students about the elective teachers, when it won't be too suspicious, but I did hear a couple of people talking about taking Divination just because it was an easy OWL."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Students. I don't know why Divination was ever added to the course list, it's completely pointless for anyone other than a true Seer." He shook his head. "We might have to leave that for Rowena to deal with."

"Neither of us would have any idea about assessing a teacher's competence in that area," Cedric agreed. He grinned suddenly. "And I wouldn't want to deprive Ro of the satisfaction."

Harry snorted. Their friend had always been rather eloquent on the subject of charlatans. Cedric's grin widened at the memory, but after a moment he shook his head. "All right. That should be enough to keep us going for a little while." He shot Harry an appraising look. "Will you be up for sparring this evening?"

"If you think you can get away without being noticed," said Harry, with a nod. "I know Helga's lot were always the most protective of new students."

"Trust me, nothing has changed at all," said Cedric fondly. He slipped his wand back into its holster, and stood up. "I should get back though. They'll be wondering where I got to."

Harry didn't like having to catch odd moments with his best friend, but that couldn't be helped. He started to reach for another book, but suddenly paused. Something in Cedric's expression told him that there was something else. He raised an eyebrow, and after a moment of silent consideration, Cedric surrendered.

"Harry, Helena isn't the only one here."

This time, Harry did Disillusion himself as he made his way through the corridors. It wasn't quite as effective as normal though. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his emotions, or his still-developing magic under control. He avoid the students as best he could, but he still saw the more sensitive among them start and shiver as he passed.

Under normal circumstances he would be appalled by his lack of control, but for the moment he simply didn't care. As far as he was concerned, the cause was sufficient.

Cedric hadn't tried to dissuade him from his course of action. In all likelihood his friend would have joined him, but this confrontation was better held while the students were at dinner in the Great Hall, and Cedric's absence would be noticed. Hufflepuffs were protective of their first years.

Besides, this conversation would go better with just the two of them.

A flicker from up ahead warned of Professors Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry paused just long enough to confirm with Hogwarts that his target hadn't left the dungeons before ducking into a secret passage. The students might notice his magic if they were paying particular attention, but a teacher certainly would. The slightly longer route was acceptable, if only because it gave Harry a chance to process the information.

It was no wonder Helena had been so reluctant to talk to him.

The dungeons were deserted by the time Harry got there. All the Slytherins were in the Great Hall, and Harry took a moment to catch his breath before heading into the labyrinth of passages. The familiar surroundings soothed him, and his fury cooled to something quieter, but no less dangerous. He was Slytherin, and would deal with this as he ought.

The Bloody Baron was exactly where Hogwarts had told Harry he would be. He recognised the little alcove immediately, and nostalgia threatened to overwhelm him. He cancelled the Disillusionment Charm with a thought, sat on the stone bench, and looked at the spirit of the man who had been one of his first students.

"I did not expect to see you again, Edmund."

Edmund gave no sign of having heard, but after a long moment he turned blank silver eyes to Harry. "Likewise. Sir."

That answered the question of whether Helena had spoken to him. Harry nodded, but kept his own face expressionless. "Tell me."

His expression was one thing, his magic quite another. Edmund flinched, and looked away. "I refused to listen. I ignored everything you taught me. I was a fool."

"Foolish was continuing to pursue Helena, despite our objections," said Harry coldly. "What you did-"

"Was unforgivable," the ghost interrupted. "I know, sir." He looked back, and this time the pain was clearly visible in his black eyes. "I was blind with rage. I regretted it the moment it was done, and I knew there was no way to atone for it." He stared round at the alcove where Salazar had set with him, and where he had set with younger Slytherins in turn. "I returned in penance, and here I will remain a long as Hogwarts endures."

Harry nodded slowly. "And Helena?"

Edmund's face twisted in ancient grief. "She returned for the same reason, but it was too late. Her mother..." His voice faltered, and he looked down for a moment before continuing, "She needs forgiveness, but she cannot move on. She is afraid."

Harry closed his eyes. He had half-expected as much. He shook his head, and looked back at Edmund. "And now?"

If ghosts could pale, Harry had no doubt that Edmund would have, but he met Harry's gaze without flinching. "She will wait for her mother. She has much to say to her. As do I."

He fell silent, but there was a tension to him that told Harry that he had more yet to say. Harry waited, and finally the ghost spoke again, "And I failed you."

"You did," said Harry. He tried to keep his voice level, but his magic crackled in the air. "I trusted you to protect her."

Edmund flinched, and looked away. "Everything changed after...after your death," he whispered. Harry's stomach twisted painfully, but the Baron wasn't finished, "They all changed. The students didn't know what to do." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Neither did I." His shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head. "We missed you."

Harry didn't reply. He couldn't. Even after years of being with his friends, and being known and respected as one of the founders of Hogwarts, he had ever quite been able to abandon the fear of being forgotten. He had dreaded the thought of his death passing unnoticed. Years with the Dursleys had only reinforced those feelings.

He really should have known better. Hogwarts was a steady presence in the back of his mind, and he thought of Cedric's rib-cracking hugs, and managed to clear his throat.

"Likewise."

Edmund relaxed a tiny fraction, and Harry knew he understood. He took a moment to collect himself, then coughed. "What is your role within Slytherin House?"

The Baron paused, but more in thought than out of a reluctance to answer. "I try to guide them, as you guided us. I support them when faced with the other students." He paused, and then there was reluctance. "But...things are not easy for Slytherins. And not all of it is undeserved."

The thought sent a familiar pulse of anger through Harry, and he checked himself when Edmund twitched. "I am aware. And when I am old enough, I will set things right."

Edmund said nothing, but he bowed with every ounce of his old respect, and Harry let himself relax a little. He could not change the past, and he did not know if he could forgive. All he could do was help the people he loved as best he could.

"Rowena will come," he said quietly. "You will wait for her, and you will accept whatever judgement she proclaims."

Edmund just bowed again. Harry sighed. He didn't envy his friend at all. He shook his head firmly; Rowena needed the truth, and they all needed some form of closure. In any case, Rowena wasn't here yet. They would deal with this mess when the time came.

In the meantime, there was another ghostly problem to deal with.

Chapter Text

“Stupefy!”

Harry grinned a vicious grin and launched himself to one side. The red light missed him by inches, and a rapid Shield Charm caught the two the first one had been herding him towards. He retaliated with a furry of curses, but his opponent countered with a shield of his own and started to advance, pressing his offensive all the way. Harry backed up, still casting as fast as he could manage, but the strain on his young magic was becoming difficult to bear. A ridiculously overpowered Disarming Spell sent his wand spinning from his hand, and him crashing to the floor.

“Ow.”

Cedric’s face swam into view, his expression decidedly sheepish. “That might have been a bit much.”

Harry glared at him. “You think?” 

His lungs were still burning, and his muscles felt like jelly as he accepted his friend’s help up. He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had forgotten just how intense these workouts could get.

Though at least Cedric was breathing heavily too. At the beginning of the week Cedric had been defeating him with embarrassing ease, but sparring twice a day and training while Cedric was in lessons had paid off. Harry still had a lot of work to do, but his magic was rapidly getting used to combat again.

“That was longer than last time,” Cedric said. “You’ll be back to your normal standards in no time.”

Harry gave him a tired smile. “How did you manage to stay in shape?”

Cedric shrugged. “As much physical training and wandless exercises as I could get away with.”

Harry grunted. Regularly missing meals and sleeping in a cupboard weren’t conducive to building up decent muscle tone. From the way Cedric’s expression had darkened the same thought was on his mind, but he knew better than to bring it up. Instead, his friend gave him a slightly forced smile.

“Though you’re going to be faster than ever, I think.”

Harry just nodded. Dodging Dudley had been easier than trying to defend himself. Besides, just being able to run was enough of a novelty that he had indulged himself whenever possible. He still went out for a run round the grounds while the students were in their lessons. He couldn’t spend all day reading, and the exercise would be invaluable for when he did get into a real fight.

Cedric still looked faintly murderous though, so Harry dragged himself back to the present.

“I hope so.” He stretched his aching muscles, and looked at his friend. “So. Binns?”

Cedric paused, but moved on from plotting revenge on the Dursleys with a visible effort and a slightly sheepish look. “Right. Everyone in Hufflepuff thinks I’m with the twins, and I told Fred and George that someone had told me something about the kitchens being near the Hufflepuff Basement, so that should keep them out of the way.” He glanced at his watch, and frowned. “For an hour or two, at least.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re really going to subject the house-elves to those two?”

Cedric rolled his eyes. “They aren’t that bad.”

Harry hummed non-committedly. The twins had been at Hogwarts barely a week, and they had already caused more chaos than everyone else in the castle put together, save Peeves of course.

“They aren’t!”

“If you say so,” said Harry dryly. He retrieved his wand, and winced at the headache that had built up. He was using a lot of magic for someone of his age, but Harry knew his own capabilities. More importantly, he couldn’t afford to wait.

“Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “Just a headache.” His scar seemed to tingle and he rubbed at it rather irritably. “And my scar seems to react to magic.”

Cedric frowned. “You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” said Harry. “I think it’s because the Room is so saturated with magic.” Hogwarts itself was one of the most magical places in the world, and the Room of Requirement had been the focus of some of their most delicate and complex spells.

Cedric’s expression though, had darkened.

“Or your scar is reacting to something else.”

Harry paused. He hadn’t considered that. The perfectly controlled room suddenly felt very cold. “Cursed scars often react to the presence of Dark magic.”

The two of them looked at each other, then glanced around as one.

“Hogwarts,” said Cedric evenly. “What else have students been leaving in this room?”

There was an uncomfortably long pause before Hogwarts replied. ‘I do not know.’

Cedric paled, and Harry had to take a steadying breath. They should have realised as much. Hogwarts was powerful, but she wasn’t omniscient. “Can you show us?”

This time there was no reply, but the room shivered and rippled and reformed. Harry stared around, and swallowed. “Well, I know what I’ll be doing for the next couple of years.”

Piles of rubbish lay heaped in rough rows as far as the eye could see. Some of it looked vaguely useful, like old books and robes, but there was also broken furniture, and scraps of parchment, and a multitude of magical items that Harry couldn’t even begin to name. Cedric stared at the mess and shook his head.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Yeah. This ought to keep you busy.”

Harry pulled a face, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much. There was only so much training he could do, particularly with Cedric in lessons, and even he couldn’t just spend two years reading. Clearing up the Room of Requirement would be a suitable distraction.

Being able to locate and isolate anything that might be a potential danger to their students was just an added bonus.

‘I would appreciate it,’ said Hogwarts. ‘No-one has done a proper clean out in centuries. The house-elves do not like to come here.’

Harry nodded. “I wouldn’t ask them to. If there are Dark items in here then I don’t want them exposed to them.” In the distance a one of the stacks slowly toppled sideways and scattered on the floor with a crash, and he sighed. “Rowena will have a fit.” The Room had been her pride and joy.

Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d better work hard then. Of course, I would be more than willing to help out, if not for those pesky lessons…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m telling Ro you said that.” He took another long look at the chaos, then shook his head. “We can deal with this later. We need to get moving.”

Cedric nodded, expression immediately turning serious. “Where is Binns?”

There was a slight pause before Hogwarts replied. ‘In his office. But you will be good to him, won’t you? He has served well and faithfully for many years.”

Harry was inclined to dispute the serving well part, but he couldn’t deny Binns’ loyalty, and nodded. “Of course.”

The two of them left the Room of Requirement and made their way down to Binns’ office. They passed a few students, but neither of them paid the first year and apparent first year any attention. Harry used the trip to review the spells he would need if the ghost proved particularly stubborn, but he didn’t miss the fact that Cedric’s usually cheerful face was very grim. His friend caught his eye and grimaced.

“I’m not looking forward to this.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, and he flushed slightly. “And no, it’s not because he’s a ghost. Honestly, Sal, I got over that before we returned to Britain.”

“I know,” Harry drawled. “But sometimes I need to remind myself that there really were things you were scared of.” Cedric rolled his eyes, and Harry smiled slightly before returning to the subject at hand. “I don’t particularly like it either, but we must. Our students deserve better.”

“I know,” said Cedric, with a sigh. “But still...” He trailed off, and shook his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Harry eyed him for a moment, but he had always known when Godric didn’t want to talk, and Cedric was even easier to read, so he kept his peace. He would have plenty of time to deal with whatever was bothering his closest friend once they were done.

Besides, he wanted to get this over with too.

Fortunately, Binns was in his office. It took him several minutes to realise that they were at the door, and even once he called them in he bore an expression of complete confusion. Harry supposed he wasn’t a teacher who often received visitors outside of class.

“Yes, Diggly?”

“Diggory, sir,” Cedric corrected gently.

“Of course, Diggersby.” Pale eyes turned to Harry, and narrowed. “And you, I do not know.”

“Potter, sir,” said Harry. Cedric shot him a sharp look, but Harry gave a slight shrug. One way or another, Binns would not be spreading that information. Binns though, just gave a slow blink.

“Porter, yes. I have taught many Porters.”

Or being mistaken for one of his ancestors also worked well enough. It also reinforced the impressions that Harry had got from Cedric and Hogwarts. Binns could not remain as a member of staff. Cedric coughed, and took a step forward.

“You have been here for a long time, Professor Binns.”

Binns started slightly in midair, as though he had forgotten that they were they. “I suppose so, Digbeth.”

Cedric grimaced, but something about the ghost’s manner caught Harry’s attention, and he moved up to stand next to Cedric. “You do not sound particularly excited about it.”

Binns shrugged. “I am a teacher. Hogwarts is my life. Where else would I go?”

“Hogwarts was your life,” said Harry gently. “And I am sorry, Professor, but that life is over.”

Binns was completely still, but his head turned and for the first time he looked Harry straight in the eye. “Over?”

Harry nodded. “Is this really what you wish to spend eternity doing? Talking about the same old wars and rebellions to an ever-changing sea of faces? Never seeing what lies behind these walls, on the greatest adventure one can take?” He stepped forward, ignoring the tension radiating from Cedric. “You deserve better than this, Professor.”

Binns shook his head. “No. No…I…This is what I chose.”

Cedric made a muffled noise, but Harry caught a flash of something behind the words, and his eyes narrowed. “And have you since come to regret that choice?”

Binns held his gaze, and something resembling passion finally entered his expression. “The choice was made.”

“And were you ever offered another?” Harry asked. “Or the choice to end this half existence?”

Binns did not reply, and Harry nodded. He had wondered as much. Wizards were not very good at change, especially when it came to time honoured traditions. Cedric looked between the two of them, mouth slightly open, before he finally turned back to Binns.

“If you did have the choice,” he said gently, “what would you like to do?”

For several long minutes, there was no reply. Harry was in no hurry. This was one of those decisions that should not, and would not be taken lightly. He had said his piece. He could only hope that it would be enough.

Binns stared at him for a long minute, then raised his head. He peered round at the stone walls as if seeing them for the first time, and his mouth twisted into a faint smile.

“I used to be able to remember the name of every student I ever taught. Their houses, their hopes, and dreams. Many visited me after leaving Hogwarts.” He paused, and his eyes came to rest on the two boys. “What are your names?”

There was an edge to his voice that had not been there previously, and Harry bowed. “My name is Harry Potter, and this is Cedric Diggory.”

Cedric smiled. “It is a pleasure, sir.”

Misty eyes peered at them, and Binns slowly shook his head. “I wish I could say the same,” he murmured.

Cedric frowned, but kept quiet when Harry elbowed him. Harry himself met the ghost’s eyes steadily. “Is this the existence you want, Professor?”

“I never wanted this,” said Binns quietly.

Harry tightened his grip on the wand in his pocket. It would not be long now. Cedric glanced at him, his face a mask of compassion, but made no move to interfere. Binns took a long, final look round, and drifted down to face Harry directly.

“End this, Harry Potter. Let me rest.”

Harry drew his wand, and bowed. “Thank you for all that you have done for Hogwarts, Professor Binns,” he said. “You have served well.”

He couldn’t help but let some of his old authority enter his voice. Binns’ eyes widened, and even more so when Harry started to gather his magic. He glanced at Cedric, and then back at Harry, and his wrinkled face creased into a faint smile. 

“It appears I will miss a very interesting few years,” he murmured. “But then, I will have adventures of my own.” He bowed back. “Farewell, Harry Potter.”

Harry took a deep breath, and began the incantation. A deep blue light began to emanate from the tip of his wand, faint at first, but growing steadily brighter. He concentrated on the rush of magic, and only looked up when the spell reached its climax.

There was a smile on Binns’ face as he looked back, and then he was gone. 

The light faded, and Harry slowly lowered his wand. For a moment he stood there, then shook himself and glanced at Cedric.

“We should go,” he said quietly. “We don’t want people to notice your absence.”

Cedric stared at him for a long second, then shook his head. He left the room without another word. Harry took a final glance at the spot where Binns had disappeared before following.

Cedric was very subdued as they made their way back through the corridors. Harry didn’t feel much like talking himself, and it wasn’t until they were back in the Room of Requirement that Cedric finally looked at him.

“He was so different,” he said quietly. “From Helena, and the Friar, and...” He trailed off, with a grimace.

Harry sighed. “He had lost his purpose. Helena and Edmund cannot find peace, and so cannot rest, and the other ghosts are much more involved with their students. For now, they are content.”

It was not an existence he would ever choose for himself, the very idea was unbearable, but he had seen how the ghosts of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff still took pleasure from their existence. Cedric still looked pale though, and Harry nudged him.

“Binns chose to move on.”

Cedric snorted. “After you gave him so much choice in the matter.” Harry drew back, but Cedric was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. You remain as persuasive as ever.”

Harry eyed him for a moment, before deciding to let it go. His friend had always taken a different approach to himself. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. Instead he leaned back in his chair.

“You can stop going easy on me when we spar tomorrow.”

Cedric blinked, then finally a faint smile touched his face. “If you insist.”

He met Harry’s eyes briefly in silent acknowledgement, then sighed and pushed himself up. “I should go and rescue the house-elves. Two hours of dealing with the Weasley Twins is enough to test the most patient of people.”

Harry squashed the by now familiar but still unwelcome surge of jealousy and nodded. “Good. They’ll be missing you soon.”

Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow morning then. We still need to talk about Snape.”

Harry pulled a face, and Cedric laughed. “I feel exactly the same way.”

Harry watched him go with a smile, feeling better than he had in a while. They had finally done something that would benefit their school. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the only such intervention.

Speaking of which... Harry sighed, and tilted his head back.

“All right,” he said out loud. “Let’s get started on all this rubbish.”

A moment later he was surrounded by a millennia’s worth of forgotten belongings, and he sighed.

“The things I do for this school.”

Chapter Text

Cedric stared at the silver ornament, frowned, tilted his head to one side, and squinted some more.

"Is it a duck?"

Harry lowered the item and gave him a look. "A duck."

Cedric threw up his hands. "I don't know! You're the one who's been looking into the thing, why don't you tell me?"

"Why do you think I was asking?" Harry shot back. "Either someone got bored halfway through, or they were far too drunk to be working with precious metals." He paused. "However, it does appear to be solid silver, so we can always melt it down and use it for something else."

Cedric watched him send it to the part of the Room they had set aside for potentially useful things, and stared at round at the stacks. "Well, you're making progress. You should be done by, I don't know, the time we finish Hogwarts?"

Harry pulled a face at him. If the last three weeks had taught him anything, it was that this was not a job for one person. "Ro was always better at this sort of thing than me," he muttered. "It'll be quicker with all four of us."

Cedric eyed him a moment, then grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair. "Come on."

"What-"

"You've been stuck inside all day, and Helga always said that wasn't good for you."

"I went for a run this morning," Harry shot back, but his protestations were half-hearted at best. After being stuck in the castle all day he was more than ready for some fresh air.

"Feels good to have so much energy, doesn't it," said Cedric, as they made their way down the stairs.

Harry snorted. For all that being eleven again was incredibly frustrating, it did have its benefits. Even with Helga's skill at healing, some wounds just didn't heal completely. To be free of all the old aches and pains was a blessing.

Sneaking out of the castle wasn't difficult for the people who had made it, and the two of them were soon strolling round the edge of the lake in companionable silence. The temperature was starting to fall as winter set in, but not unbearably so, and the dreaded snow had yet to set in.

They had made a complete circuit around the lake when Cedric finally spoke.

"Have you thought about what we talked about before."

Harry sighed, his good mood plummeting. "Of course I have." He kicked at a stone, pausing to watch the ripples it made as it disappeared into the water. "He is clearly a terrible teacher."

"But he keeps the students safe," said Cedric. "And the ones that enjoy Potions and can work with him go on to do very well indeed."

"But that's not the way it should be," Harry insisted. "It's fine to be able to get good work out of those who have the enthusiasm and aptitude, but children shouldn't be terrified of going to a class because they know the teacher is going to mock their every effort."

Cedric's jaw tightened. They had hit upon the crux of the matter there. Severus Snape was an incredibly talented Potions Master, and his NEWT level students were a credit to the school, but the man was a truly abysmal teacher for the average student.

An owl flew over their heads and Harry tilted his head to watch it. It disappeared into the clouds, and he sighed.

"I don't know what we can do about him."

It was a difficult thing to admit. As nice as it was to be a child again, the lack of influence over his beloved school was becoming increasingly draining. In spite of all his memories and knowledge, there was only so much a nine year old could do.

From the expression on Cedric's face, being an eleven year old wasn't much better.

"Nothing, at the moment," he grunted. He leaned against a tree and stared out over the lake. "I've talked to the older students. His behaviour has earned complaints in the past, but nothing has ever come of them."

Harry gritted his teeth. "So all we can do is wait."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but Salazar had always been a pragmatist.

And he was very good at biding his time.

Minerva settled herself into an armchair and allowed herself a contented sigh. Her cup of tea was warm in her hands, it's fragrance soothing as only tea could be, and for one blissful moment, Minerva was able to put the stress of dealing with four hundred magical teenagers aside. Across the table, Filius and Septima were discussing spellcrafting, with occasional input from Severus, while Pomona and Poppy debated the optimal conditions for the harvesting of dittany.

All conversation faded into respectful silence the moment Albus Dumbledore entered the room though. The Headmaster smiled round the room, but the customary twinkle was missing from his eyes.

"Good afternoon," he greeted them. He settled himself in the chair at the head of the table, and steepled his fingers. "I will not keep you long. I merely wish to inform you of the results of our investigation."

Minerva set her cup back in its saucer, and leaned forwards. Albus' smile faded. "Neither myself, nor Head Auror Scrimgeour were able to find any clue as to the identity of the exorcist of Professor Binns."

Minerva closed her eyes as murmuring erupted around her. She and Albus had spent many hours discussing possible theories, but the list of people who could exorcise a ghost without leaving a trace, let alone enter and leave Hogwarts undetected was short to say the least. No student could have the power or skill to challenge a ghost of Binns' age, and certainly no other teacher would dream of doing so. Albus caught her eye, and raised a hand for silence.

"However, I did invite an representative from the Spirits Division to inspect the scene of the crime." He paused, probably to build up tension. Albus always did have a flair for the dramatic. "She was able to identify the spell used as one that required the ghost's agreement in order to send them on."

There was a stunned silence, then a booming voice rang out. "Absurd!"

Minerva wasn't the only one to wince at the volume. Herbert Runcorn was a perfectly adequate Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, but he didn't seem to comprehend the notion of an indoor voice. His perpetually red face was set in a scowl as he folded his arms. "Why would any ghost choose to be exorcised? Binns has taught at this school for generations, for Merlin's sake."

"Perhaps a better question would be why did the perpetrator choose a spell that required Binns' agreement?" said Filius thoughtfully. "It is far simpler to force a spirit on than to convince them to move on of their own accord."

Runcorn shook his head with a snort. "Must have lacked the strength. That would explain why they took such pains not to be noticed, they never would have prevailed in a struggle."

"So we have a magically weak witch or wizard capable of infiltrating Hogwarts, convincing a strongly established ghost to depart, and vanishing without a trace?" Minerva summarised. She wasn't quite able to keep her disbelief from her voice, and saw her own doubts mirrored on many of her colleagues' faces. Albus sighed.

"I have relayed our theories to the Auror Department, and they will be looking into the matter. In the meantime, I have been searching for a replacement for History of Magic."

"Good," said Minerva firmly. She and the others had been taking it in turns to cover those sessions, with help from the few seventh years who had actually continued the subject to NEWT level, but they really had enough to be getting on with with their own classes.

Albus nodded. "I have written to my old friend, Bathilda Bagshot. Her great-great-great," He paused a moment, eyes twinkling. "Now, was there another great?"

"Albus," said Minerva dryly. She saw Filius cover a smile with a hand, and Septima and Severus exchange withering looks, but Albus' eyes twinkled even more brightly.

"Of course, Minerva. In any case, her niece, Belinda, received an Outstanding in her History of Magic NEWT with us."

"Yes, she was one of mine," said Pomona. "She's spent the last four years at the University of Alexandria, she still writes every few months."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully. She too could remember young Belinda, and a more different personality to Binns could scarcely be imagined. "And she would be willing to cover for the rest of the term?"

Albus inclined his head. "I am still waiting for her confirmation owl, but she indicated that she would be happy to fill in for the rest of the term. She would be more than welcome to stay on, of course, but should she choose to return to research I will have ample time to find a replacement."

There was a murmur of approval. Professor Runcorn let out a braying laugh. "And you thought it was the Defence teachers that you would have problems keeping!"

Filius leaned away, rubbing his ear wearily, but Albus just smiled. "Indeed, I do hope this will be the end of our staffing troubles for the year."

"Unless whoever disposed of Binns so efficiently turns their attention elsewhere."

Severus did have a knack for lowering the mood, Minerva reflected. Albus' eyes narrowed. "They were able to successfully infiltrate Hogwarts, and yet their sole aim appears to have been to exorcise a single ghost. I doubt that they will return."

Severus acknowledged the point with a nod, but he wasn't quite finished. "And yet we have no clues as to their identity. Or what their purpose is."

Albus was silent for several seconds, and Minerva had to fight back a shiver at the ice in his eyes. It was easy to forget that the eccentric old man was one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Eventually though, Albus visibly relaxed.

"Well, we will remain alert. With time and patience, I am sure that the truth will be revealed." He leaned back in his chair, and favoured them all with a genial smile. "And on to more pleasant matters. How are our new first years getting on?"

Pomona brightened, and leaned forwards. "Very well, as far as I can tell. One of mine, Cedric Diggory, has settled in marvellously."

Minerva had taken note of that boy herself, and said so. "He has been at the top of his class from the first day. I've never seen anyone master the initial lessons so quickly."

"His Charms work is equally impressive," Filius chipped in. "His questions and essays show an almost intuitive understanding of the fundamentals, and he's already starting to draw upon theories I don't usually touch on until third year."

Runcorn harrumphed loudly. "Lad's a bit too enthusiastic in my classes. Still, I wouldn't mind hexing those twins myself sometimes, and he's executing every jinx perfectly after a single demonstration."

Pomona was smiling widely enough that her cheeks had to be hurting. Minerva raised an enquiring eyebrow at Severus, who merely snorted.

"The boy is not entirely incompetent."

Pomona rolled her eyes. "Thank you for that assessment, Severus." Ignoring his sneer, she turned to Albus. "In all seriousness, Cedric is picking up the material remarkably quickly. We may have to think about some more advanced instruction in the future."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully, and nodded. "Let us see how he does this year. It is not healthy for students to spend their most enjoyable years trying to cram as much information into their heads as fast as possible."

Pomona was the first to voice her agreement, and Albus turned twinkling eyes to Minerva. "And I hear the young Weasley twins are making their mark."

"The brats are a menace!" Severus exploded.

"They have yet to fail a single exercise in my classes," Minerva shot back. Not that she couldn't understand where her colleague was coming from, but it was only fair to let Albus get an accurate picture.

"They are disrespectful, arrogant, foolhardy-"

"Now, Severus, my boy-"

"Severus, you can hardly complain about the Weasley twins when I spent two hours stripping down brooms after those second years of yours tried to sneak in extra practices," Rolanda put in.

"That is completely beside the point!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the developing discussion, but contented herself with pouring another cup of tea. At least the rest of the term could only be more peaceful.

Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"I'm quite sure I do."

"I think further investigations are necessary, George."

"I couldn't agree more, Fred."

Fred leaned on the bannister, and watched the two small figures do a not quite good enough job of sneaking into the school undetected. "Where has old Ceddy been without us?"

George's attention was on the unfamiliar black-haired boy with his friend. Even as he watched, the two separated, and the stranger was swallowed up in the shadows of the dungeons. "He's been keeping secrets from us," he said quietly.

The two looked at each other again, then back at Cedric, who was making his way towards the passage leading to the Hufflepuff Basement. Cheerful whistling floated up to them, and George elbowed his twin.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the Common Room."

Fred turned to follow him, his brown eyes gleaming. "Yes, let's. We've got a project to get started."

Albus stroked Fawkes' brilliant plumage, and stared at the array of instruments on his desk, and sighed.

"It has been an eventful few months, my friend," he murmured.

He had never anticipated losing Cuthbert Binns. The ghost had been a fixture at Hogwarts for centuries. The very idea that someone might exorcise him had been unthinkable, and yet it had happened. That whoever had done so had managed to enter and leave Hogwarts undetected only made matters worse. Amelia Bones had not been pleased, and Albus had been forced to disclose more details about Hogwarts' wards and their security in order to placate her. It was extremely fortunate that whoever was responsible had chosen to only persuade Binns, and had not interacted in any way with any other staff or students.

And that wasn't the only issue of concern. There was still that unexplained explosion of magic over the summer, the curious excitement of the house-elves, the air of almost tangible expectancy that seemed to come from the very castle.

There was the disappearance of Harry Potter.

The monitor on Albus' desk hadn't changed since that fateful morning. Harry was still safe and well, but beyond that, Albus knew nothing.

Albus had even made discreet inquiries among Lily and James' old friends. If anyone had gone to check on the boy, and for some reason decided to remove him from the Dursleys' custody, it was likely to be someone acquainted with the couple, but all of Albus' most subtle probing had resulted in failure.

In the case of Remus Lupin, Albus was beginning to suspect that he had actually done more harm than good. His old student had been both surprised by and wary of the sudden interest, and Albus' inability to answer any of Remus' own questions had caused some understandable frustration. Albus could only hope that the young man wouldn't take matters into his own hands.

Fawkes let out a reassuring trill, and Albus smiled down at his friend.

"I am getting far too old for this."

Chapter Text

After all the excitement of the start of term, the next few weeks were almost boring in comparison. Harry trained with Cedric, read books, and attempted to clear out the piles of useless items in the Room of Requirement, but despite his best efforts none of it was enough to keep his mind occupied.

Eventually, the frustration became too much.

"Where have you been?"

Cedric's cheeks were flushed with excitement, but he offered Harry an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Harry. The twins were waiting for me again."

Harry scowled. The Weasley twins had somehow caught on to the fact that Cedric wasn't always where he said he was, and had spent the past month trying to find out what was going on. Having finally realised that Cedric was far too good at disappearing during the day, they had begun waiting for him by the Hufflepuff Basement each morning, which made it very difficult for Cedric to get to the Room of Requirement for their morning sparring sessions. With their time together limited as it was, the interference was getting on Harry's nerves.

Oblivious to Harry's rising irritation, Cedric was still chatting away happily, "It's pretty impressive actually, they've already found two of our secret passages. I think Bill did give them some hints, but I'm sure none of our first years ever found any that fast."

"Probably because ours were too busy with useful things," Harry muttered. "Like their studies, and trying not to get burnt alive by Muggles."

Cedric's eyes narrowed. He studied Harry for a long minute, then sighed, and folded his arms. "All right, what's the matter with you?"

Harry stared hard at the open book in his hands. "Nothing." He turned a page, only to have the book abruptly Summoned out of his hands. "Don't do that to Rowena or she will hex you. Actually do it, I could use the laugh."

Cedric didn't take the bait. He set the book carefully on the desk before looking back at Harry. "You think I'm spending too much time with my other friends."

The word choice was deliberate, and Harry wasn't quite able to hide his frown. Cedric sighed again, and ran a hand through his dark hair. "They're my classmates, Harry. I can't exactly avoid them."

Harry choked back a biting retort with an effort, and instead Summoned his book back. "I know that."

Cedric sighed, then came to crouch in front of Harry. "I know this is hard for you," he said gently. "I'd hate being cooped up in here too, especially after...after everything, but as much as I want to spend more time here, I can't. Fred and George already know that something is going on."

"Then you should have been more careful," Harry snapped.

Cedric's face flushed. "Don't judge me, Sal. You're not the one having to pretend to be an eleven year old every day!"

Harry blinked, but Cedric had apparently reached the limits of his own patience. "You don't have to sit in class and act like you couldn't teach the entire curriculum. You don't have to think about every word you say in case someone notices you're hiding an entire other life. You're not the one juggling two different lives while worrying about whether the other two most important people in your life will ever join you!"

Harry was on his feet before he even knew what was happening. "Don't you dare think I've forgotten them," he snarled. "At least you have some distractions. All I have is the knowledge that I can't leave here because I have literally nowhere to go, my parents are dead, my only other living relatives despise me, and my only friend has new and better friends to spend his time with."

The temperature in the room rose abruptly, and Harry knew he had gone too far but he suddenly didn't care. Cedric's eyes met his, wide with hurt and anger, but then Harry was gone, down into the Chamber of Secrets, where Cedric knew better than to follow him. The Chamber had always been Salazar's sanctuary, and both of them knew better than to seek the other out when tempers had risen so high.

Harry stood still for several seconds, trying to control the emotions swirling within him. His anger with his friend was rapidly being replaced with shame. Cedric was allowed to have other friends. He needed to have other friends. Harry had always been a loner, and was quite happy with Cedric and Hogwarts, but Godric had always thrived on company. He was at his best when he was supporting and encouraging others.

Jealousy was not an attractive character trait, Harry reflected bitterly. He slumped against one of the ancient columns, uncaring of the damp seeping into his robes as guilt settled heavy in his stomach.

He had sworn that this life would be different, and yet here he was, as self-destructive as before.

Hogwarts' presence brushed his mind in quiet reassurance, but as much as Harry appreciated the gesture he couldn't respond to it. He tilted his head back against the rough stone, letting his gaze wander over his grandfather's carved features.

"I am sorry," he whispered.

If his grandfather knew what had become of their family name...

Harry sighed, and pushed himself back to his feet. It was easier to think on the move in this life. He paced down the broad walkway, ignoring the foul-smelling puddles, and trying to let go of his anger. The Weasleys were not a threat to him. He and Godric shared a bond forged over a lifetime. A new childhood friendship was nothing to be jealous of.

Salazar had never been very rational when it came to his friends. Harry had to be better.

He stopped at the base of his grandfather's statue. For a moment he stood still, paralysed by indecision. His mind was clear again, but he wasn't ready to face Cedric just yet. The other boy would probably have gone to classes by now anyway. There was nothing urgent demanding his attention, and he needed a break from digging through the rubbish in the Room of Requirement.

Harry sighed, and laid a hand on the base of his grandfather's statue. A pulse of magic released the wards, and he watched in approval as the stone slab slid aside as smoothly as it had done a thousand years ago. The passage was dark and smelled strongly of damp, but a Lumos and Bubble-Head Charm dealt with that. A minute later he emerged into a much larger cavern, and he stopped short.

Issa had grown. Salazar had expected that. Herpo the Foul's Basilisk had lived for hundreds of years, and had continued to grow fairly steadily all that time.

Seeing it in person was something else.

Harry rested a trembling hand against the green scales. Issa had to be at least sixty feet long. Her eyes were closed, and judging by the layer of dust coating her coils it had been some time since she was last out and about. Harry could hardly blame her. For one thing, it was hard to imagine the amount she would have to eat to remain as active as she had been when she was the size of his arm.

Harry sighed, and stepped back. Issa would wake in time. She was alive and well, and ready to be called upon to defend Hogwarts. That was enough for now.

It didn't matter that the ache in his chest was growing more painful. Harry took a deep breath. He needed to talk to Cedric, but Cedric was in class, and Harry had to do something, anything, to keep his mind off how much of a mess he was. He started to retrace his steps through to the main chamber, then paused.

The rest of the side passages were free of dust.

Harry frowned. He had set various spells to try to keep this place in an acceptable creation, but not even his spellwork should have lasted for hundreds of years. Someone had cast new ones, and fairly recently.

Harry bit his lip. He had shown Murtagh the Chamber, and his nephew had sworn to make sure it was maintained, but there were items in here that had the power to cause unimaginable amounts of harm. They had been locked away behind the strongest wards he could create, but if that magic had degraded too...

At least he had something to keep him occupied until Cedric finished classes.

It took all of Remus Lupin's considerable self-control to contain his fury until after Petunia shut the door. He hadn't known Lily's sister well, for some strange reason Lily had been reluctant to let them spend much time with her, but he had expected better than this.

How bad must things have been for Harry to have run away?

Petunia had told him everything. Remus had even detected a trace of guilt in her eyes, despite her clipped tones, but he couldn't find it in him to have much sympathy for her. It had been an effort just to control his temper, but getting sent to Azkaban for hexing Muggles would hardly help Harry.

Remus' steps faltered. From what little he'd been able to get out of Albus he knew that Harry wasn't with any of James or Lily's other friends. But there was one person that Albus might have missed.

Even after eight years, thinking of Sirius Black was enough to make Remus' vision tint red. He hadn't been able to see Black after his arrest for fear of murdering him on the spot. The very thought that their oldest friend could betray them like that...

With an effort, Remus forced his mind back to the matter at hand. Black had been Voldemort's right-hand man, but Remus knew him. Sirius had always been impetuous and headstrong, but he had never been stupid. He must have known that there was a possibility that Voldemort could be defeated. There was a chance that he had laid contingency plans.

Remus let out a long breath. It was a long shot. Black almost certainly knew nothing. It still had to be worth a try.

And maybe Remus would finally get some answers.

There were a lot of frustrating things about being eleven again. Knowing the curriculum inside out. Being summarily dismissed whenever he tried to take an interest in anything outside of school and sports. Being short.

One thing Cedric had forgotten was how easily distracted children he were. He knew he was supposed to be listening to Professor McGonagall, but he honestly couldn't care less about Switching Spells. Not even the advanced versions that McGonagall had set him working on after he completed the set work in ten minutes in an effort to keep him busy.

Cedric hated fighting with his friends. He might have bickered with Salazar and the others constantly, but proper fights were rare. And now, after spending years living without Salazar only to find him again like this...

Cedric's forehead hit the desk with a thud. This wasn't easy for him, and he had grown up with a loving magical family. Salazar was Harry Potter, and Cedric was the only person he had. The only living person anyway.

Cedric had to talk to him. He had to make things right.

"Mister Diggory."

Cedric jerked up in time to find McGonagall looming over his desk. Her lips were pinched, and the look she gave him was so reminiscent of Rowena that Cedric had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

"Yes, Professor?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Is something the matter, Mister Diggory? I only ask because we are forty minutes into class, and your matchbox and quill remain quite unswitched."

Cedric felt his cheeks heat up, and he ducked his head. "Sorry, Professor, I've been distracted." He waved his wand, remembering at the last moment to actually verbalise the incantation, and watched as the quill gained matchstick strands.

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. "Very impressive, Mister Diggory. Five points to Hufflepuff."

Cedric spotted his housemates exchange grins out of the corner of his eye, but it failed to lift his spirits. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded to herself. "See me after class, Mister Diggory. And in the meantime, perhaps you wouldn't mind assisting Mister Summerby?"

Cedric blinked, his eggs and toast suddenly sitting very heavily in his stomach. The last thing he needed was for people to get suspicious in his very first term. Hopefully he hadn't done anything that would seem beyond the capabilities of a gifted eleven year old.

At least he finally had something to keep him distracted. He had really missed teaching. Summerby gave him a bright, relieved smile, and Cedric forced his own problems to one side. He had work to do.

By the time class finished, Cedric had secured Summerby's everlasting gratitude, and twenty more points for Hufflepuff. More than one person patted him on the back as they left the room, and as little as Cedric cared about the competition it was nice to see his friends in good spirits. It wasn't enough to make him forget his worries though, and his stomach was a ball of nerves as he stepped up to McGonagall's desk.

"You wanted to speak to me, Professor?"

"Yes, Mister Diggory." She placed a stack of papers to one side, and peered at him over her glasses. "I hope you understand that while Professor Sprout is your Head of House, you may come to any teacher, should you require assistance. Including myself."

Cedric blinked. That had not been what he was expecting. Warmth flooded his chest, and he smiled. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sorry I was a bit distracted before." He hesitated, then realised he didn't actually need to lie. "I got into a fight with a friend, but I'm going to fix it."

McGonagall studied him for a long minute, and then to Cedric's surprise her stern face relaxed into a smile. "That is a very mature attitude, Mister Diggory. See that you do."

Cedric recognised the dismissal, and gave her a respectful nod before leaving the room. At least he knew that his House was in good hands.

Now all he had to do was talk to Harry.

Easier said than done, especially when he caught a flash of bright red hair in the corridor. Cedric swore under his breath, and ducked in between a pair of older students. He was going to be in for it the next time he saw the twins, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Right now, Salazar was more important. He ducked into a secret passage he was sure Fred and George didn't know about, and closed his eyes.

'Hogwarts?'

The familiar warmth enveloped his mind and soul, and despite his rising stress levels, Cedric had to smile. It was good to be home. 'Yes, Godric?'

'Where is he? The Chamber?'

'Of course. You'll no doubt be pleased to hear that Issa is asleep.'

Cedric shuddered. 'Thank you.'

There was no point in wasting time. Classes were done for the day, and he couldn't think of eating when things were so unsettled. He also knew better than to let Salazar spend too much time brooding.

Cedric sighed, and willed himself to the Chamber.

The place was...not how he remembered it. Salazar must have been apoplectic. Godric cleared the dingy water from the path with a wave of his wand, and squinted round.

"Salazar? Are you here?"

He was disappointed, but not particularly surprised when he didn't receive a reply. There was no sign of anyone in the main chamber, and he changed direction to head for the side passages.

"Salazar, I'm sorry," he tried again. "Can you come out? We need to talk."

There was a faint crash, and Cedric broke into a run. "Salazar?"

He dashed around the corner fast enough that he skidded on the damp stone, and had to catch the wall to stay upright. "Damn it!"

There was another crash, and then a head of messy black hair appeared round the nearest doorway. "Cedric? What are you doing down here?"

"There you are!" He straightened his robes with a frown. "What do you think? I came to apologise."

Harry bit his lip. "Cedric-"

"Please, Harry, let me finish. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"Neither should I," Harry pointed out. He looked away, eyes falling to the floor. "I was jealous and stupid, and I never should have gotten so upset about your other friends."

"No," Cedric agreed. He crossed the room to grip Harry's shoulder. "But I understand. I know...I know things haven't been easy for you. Even more so this time round. But I'm here now, and no matter what happens I'm staying. Nothing, and no one, can change that."

Harry stared up at him, his green eyes impossibly large in his thin face, and Cedric pulled him in for a hug.

"You're my brother, Salazar. I've known you for decades." He felt Harry twitch in his arms, and hugged him tighter. "I know you," he whispered. "I didn't go anywhere back then, and I'm not going anywhere now."

Slowly, Harry's arms wrapped around Cedric's waist and he hugged back, tentatively at first but then so hard it was almost painful. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Cedric closed his eyes. They would be fine, just like they always were. He would get better at making time for Harry, and Harry would stop being quite so possessive. They only had to do this for two years, and then they could forget about the secrecy. They would be fine.

Harry let out a shaky breath and stepped back.

"I'm glad you came down here."

Cedric ruffled his hair. "Me too."

"Not because of this," said Harry quickly. "Well, not just because of it anyway."

Unease started to coil in Cedric's stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Harry looked around, his face as grim as Cedric had ever seen it. "Someone has been down here. Recently."

Cedric felt the blood drain from his face. Only someone of Salazar's blood could enter here, and considering what they had been able to trace of his family, and what was generally assumed of Slytherins in this time...

Harry caught his eye and nodded. "We have to work out what they did."

Dinner could wait. If Cedric's suspicions were correct, neither of them would be feeling much like eating.

Chapter Text

The Chamber of Secrets used to be one of Salazar's favourite places in Hogwarts. The other Founders had contributed to its construction of course, but Salazar had designed it and placed the wards that would keep it secure, and it was his, just like the Room was Rowena's. The others were welcome, and always would be, but the Chamber was his.

After the past couple of weeks, Harry was beginning to wish that he never had to set foot in there again.

The place had been ransacked. All the cursed weapons and objects that he had Godric had spent so long hunting down were gone. Admittedly, some of them were more like trinkets that Rowena had asked them to keep away from their students, but too many could cause serious harm. There was a reason Salazar had made these wards so powerful.

Worse still, the books were gone.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Harry was tired enough to lean into the touch.

"Have you been down here all night?"

Harry shrugged. "If it's morning, then yes. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Not yet, and we were worried about you," said Cedric gently. He settled down on the floor next to Harry and stretched his legs out. "You can't keep brooding down here."

"I know," Harry muttered. "But I can't be out searching for whoever was stupid enough to take those books either. I can't do anything."

Objectively he knew he was being ridiculous. There was no way of telling when the Chamber had been raided, or what had happened to everything that had been taken, but Harry couldn't help it. The rituals in those books were dangerous. They had been dangerous a thousand years ago, and with the advances that had been made since...

Cedric sighed. "I know. It's maddening. But we just can't do anything yet." He looped an arm round Harry's shoulders. "And remember that this time its not just people like us dealing with such threats. There's an entire branch of the government dedicated to protecting people. We have to trust them until we're older."

Harry scowled. Trust had never been one of his strong points, but Cedric was right. There simply wasn't anything they could do. Maybe when Helga and Rowena arrived...

"At least it'll be Christmas soon," said Cedric. "We'll have to work out what we're going to do."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Thanks to the Dursleys he cared for Christmas even less than he had in his first life. "We're only two weeks into November," he pointed out. "We've got more pressing matters to worry about."

"Actually, we don't," said Cedric gently. "We're children, remember? We've dealt with Binns, Bagshott has settled down and is an excellent teacher, our students are safe, and this is our first Christmas in centuries. We need a break."

Harry just scowled at the floor. Cedric sighed, and disentangled himself from Harry and stood up. "Look, I've got class, but this isn't over. Also, Helena wants to talk to you."

That was enough to break Harry's attention from his bad mood. "What? Why?"

"How about you ask her, and find out." He reached down to pull Harry to his feet, but didn't let go straight away. "I know how important this is to you," he said softly, "but you can't spend the next two years dwelling on things you can't change."

Harry let out a soft snort. "Of course I could. Dwelling on things I can't change is one of my specialities."

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Why did I miss him?" he asked, and Harry felt Hogwarts' amusement echo in his own mind. He aimed a half-hearted kick that his friend dodged easily. "See? You've spent so long brooding that you're getting slow."

"All right, all right," Harry grumbled. "You've made your point. I'll stop coming down here as much."

That didn't mean he would stop thinking about it, and judging from the gleam in Cedric's eyes the older boy knew it, but it was a start. Harry closed his eyes and willed himself back to the Room of Requirement. The piles of rubbish didn't do much to improve his mood.

The was a faint crack as Cedric appeared next to him. The older boy sighed.

"I've got to get to Herbology, but please try to stop obsessing. Go and find Helena, that'll cheer you up."

Harry wasn't sure seeing the ghost of his surrogate niece would do much to cheer up him up, but he managed to refrain from saying so. Cedric squeezed his shoulder. "I'll see you this evening, all right?"

"Thanks," Harry mumbled.

Cedric clapped him on the back and headed off, though not without a worried backward look. Harry sighed. He had caused Godric enough stress in his first life. He forced his own frustrations to the side and headed out after his friend. Time to see what Helena needed.

Alastor Moody wasn't one to dwell on the past. He was an Auror, and knew damn well that regrets were a waste of time. Far better to focus on the task at hand.

That didn't stop him occasionally cursing the Death Eaters that had cost him his leg. He kicked aside the chair that had threatened to entangle his prosthesis, and rapped on the office doorframe.

"Got a minute?"

Scrimgeour snorted. "But, Alastor, don't you know how much I love reviewing Ministerial audits?" He shoved the papers aside with a contemptuous flick of his hand, and waved Alastor to a chair. "Paper-pushing imbeciles."

Alastor smirked as he eased his aching body into the proffered seat. "Told you taking that job was a mistake."

"So you did," Scrimgeour grumbled. "And every other day since." He looked at the papers like he wanted to incinerate them, before reluctantly shaking his head and glancing back at Alastor. "Anyway. What do you need?"

Alastor hesitated. He had served alongside Scrimgeour for years, and considered the younger wizard a friend as well as a comrade, but this was tricky. Scrimgeour, like Amelia Bones, had made his views on independent action very clear during the War. There was a good chance of this sparking old arguments.

But then, Scrimgeour had also understood what had to be done, and despite refusing to align with Dumbledore and the Order, he had turned a blind eye to others doing so. He had even passed along key information at times, though always with the proviso that no one else should know how a humble Auror came by such details.

When it came down to it, Alastor trusted Scrimgeour, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"I've just had an interesting conversation," he began, "with Remus Lupin."

Scrimgeour cocked his head to one side, but he said nothing and Alastor continued, "He is requesting a visit with Sirius Black."

Scrimgeour's amber eyes narrowed. "I see."

Alastor grunted. It had been nearly seven years since Black's incarceration, and in all that time the Death Eater had never had a single visitor. Alastor himself had never even considered the idea, partly, he had to admit, out of wounded pride. He had badly misjudged Black, and the Potters had paid the price. He should have known better.

"Did Lupin give a reason?"

Alastor pulled himself back to the present, and shook his head. "Just that he wanted an explanation."

"Wouldn't we all?" Scrimgeour muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and scowled at Alastor. "You knew them. What do you think?"

Alastor scratched at his mutilated nose. "He was telling the truth." All the young ones had quickly learned better than to try lying to him, and Lupin had always had the most common sense of his friends. "But he was hiding something. He was worried."

He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. Scrimgeour met his eyes, and nodded. "The visit is approved. You will supervise."

Alastor nodded, but a glance from Scrimgeour kept him in his seat. The Head Auror's face was as grim as Alastor had ever seen it. "Black was You-Know-Who's right hand man," he said quietly. "If there is anyone who might have knowledge of any other plans, it's Black."

Alastor just nodded again. They had fought one war. They would do whatever it took to avoid a second.

Tracking down a ghost wasn't as difficult as it sounded. At least not if one was intimately connected to Hogwarts' wards, and had the full cooperation of the castle itself. It also helped when one had known the ghost in question since she was born, and knew every one of her favourite hiding spots.

Harry weaved in and out of the crowds of students, easily going unnoticed in the chaos. The crowds made his skin itch, but he couldn't deny that the anonymity was a welcome change. It probably wouldn't last long once he officially arrived and everyone knew who he was, and Harry fully intended to make the most of it until then.

It didn't take long to leave the students behind. Harry ducked down secret passages and climbed hidden staircases that had long lain undisturbed, judging from the thick layers of dust, until he finally emerged onto a small balcony overlooking the northernmost staircase.

The torches were lit as always, but Helena's shimmering form still drew Harry's eye. Her face was still set in the mask of grim sadness that Harry had become so familiar with over the past few months, and the sight made his chest ache. What had happened to the laughing child who had clung to his ankles and helped him throw snowballs at Godric? He shook the thought away and stepped forward.

"Helena?"

Ghosts couldn't exactly jump, but Helena did turn to him. "Uncle."

"You wanted to see me?" said Harry slowly. There was something wrong here. Helena was avoiding his gaze in the exact same way she used to when she had been hiding something from him as a child. "What's wrong?"

The faintest trace of a smile touched Helena's face. "I never could get anything past you." She sighed, and looked him straight in the eye. "The last boy who opened your Chamber."

Harry froze. "What of him?"

"I...I spoke to him once. About who I am. And about Edmund."

Harry stared at her. Over the last couple of months he had watched Helena interact with the students. Though always polite and helpful, at least to the Ravenclaws, she kept everyone at a distance. Even with Professor Flitwick, she remained cordial at best.

He couldn't imagine her telling anyone about her death.

And if the one person he had told had also had the ability to enter the Chamber of Secrets...

"He was interested in you," Helena said softly. "All four of you. What descendants you had, what magic you created, the items you made, he wanted to know everything." She looked away. "He was very charming, and it...it had been a long time."

Harry closed his eyes. "I understand." If he had been on his own for a thousand years, he might want to talk to someone now and then too. He forced the thought away and looked back at her. "What else can you tell me about him?"

Helena frowned. "Very little. He was a Slytherin. He was particularly interested in you. He applied for the post of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher after leaving, but Headmaster Dumbledore refused."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I do not know," said Helena. "I don't think he trusted him." She hesitated. "There is something else, Salazar. It...you will not like to hear this."

"What else is new?" Harry muttered. "Tell me."

Helena bit her lip. "He didn't just open the Chamber."

Harry stared at her, and then everything fell into place with horrifying clarity. "He believed what they say about me. He believed what they say the Chamber was built for."

Nausea swirled in his gut, and he sat down before his knees gave out. The pounding of blood in his ears was deafening, and every breath burned in his lungs. What had Selene's descendent done? How had everything gone so wrong?

Then he barely choked back a cry as something icy cold touched the back of his neck. He jerked away, and only then became aware of Helena's voice, shrill with barely-contained panic.

"-for me, Salazar, you have to breathe. You need to calm down."

He was scaring her. Harry sucked in a desperate gasp of air, and was rewarded with a relieved prayer. "That's it, Salazar. Everything is all right."

"No," Harry whispered. "No, it isn't."

His Chamber had been opened and used for the opposite of its intended purpose. Harry had read enough to know what scholars had assumed Issa was for. The lump in his throat threatened to choke off his speech, but he had to know. "Was...was anyone hurt?"

Helena's silence was all the answer he needed. Harry buried his face in his arms. "He hurt my students."

Worse still, he had used Issa to hurt students. Harry tasted bile in the back of his throat, and concentrated on the pain of his nails digging into his palms to keep from throwing up. Everything good thing he had tried to do for the school had gone wrong.

"This wasn't your fault, Salazar," Helena whispered.

"I was the one who hid a Basilisk in my school," Harry growled. "I should have known better. Rowena and Godric were right."

"You couldn't have known that your family would become so twisted," said Helena firmly. Harry glared at her, but Helena didn't give him a chance to interrupt, "And it was not always this way. Many of Selene's line found the Chamber, and not one of them betrayed your trust. If not for Issa, this school would have fallen in the thirteenth century."

Harry finally looked up at that. Helena gave him a small smile. "All you wanted was to protect the school, and you did."

Harry took a deep breath, then another. "Issa is my responsibility," he said quietly. "When did this happen?"

There was definite wariness in Helena's eyes as she looked at him. "About fifty years ago."

Harry's jaw tightened. Fifty years was nothing to wizards. If he was still alive, then Harry would find him. "What was his name?"

Helena's whisper sounded like a thunderstorm in the silence, "Tom Riddle."

Chapter Text

Cedric was worried.

This was in no way an unusual occurrence when Salazar was concerned. Godric had spent most of his life worrying about his friend. He had known from the start that things would be no different with Harry.

Things would be much easier when Rowena and Helga were back.

For now though it was just Cedric, and if there was one thing he was good at it was managing Salazar's moods. Admittedly, he had never had to deal with a Salazar that had found out that one of his distant relatives had released a Basilisk into the castle and killed a student and whose reputation was in ruins, but Cedric was never one to back down from a challenge.

This time he didn't need to ask where Harry was. He started for the seventh floor, performing the usual detour into one of the more obscure secret passages in order to avoid the Weasley twins. The pair were really starting to get on his nerves.

He arrived at the Room of Requirement a few minutes later, only slightly out of breath, and slipped inside before anyone could interrupt. He was met by the now familiar sight of towering piles of rubbish.

"Harry? Where are you?"

There was no reply. Cedric sighed, and started to pick his way through the stacks. "Come on, Harry. We need to talk."

There was a faint crash, and Cedric changed direction slightly. He squeezed in between a broken cabinet and a gargoyle, to find Harry digging through a trunk. The younger boy spared him only a brief scowl.

"Don't you have class?"

"Maybe I need to give you a copy of my timetable," Cedric muttered under his breath. "They finished an hour ago, and I've eaten. Unlike you."

It was a guess, but a very reasonable one based on experience. The snort he received confirmed it. "I can eat later."

Cedric rubbed his eyes. "Really? Because you said that yesterday, and Teaky told me you didn't touch anything."

Harry muttered something under his breath. Cedric sighed, and knelt next to him. "Harry, you do realise that you haven't left this room in nearly a week, don't you?"

Harry blinked, then dismissed the information with a scowl. "This is more important. Helena said Riddle brought back Rowena's Diadem, and she is convinced that he hid it here. I have to find it. I have to find out what he was up to."

Cedric sighed, and reached out to grip Harry's shoulders. The younger boy resisted, but Cedric forced him to look round. "Yes, we do," he said grimly. "But you don't have to do it right now." Harry's collarbones were worryingly sharp under his hands, and Cedric had to fight the urge to shake some sense into him. "Whatever Riddle did, it was over fifty years ago, and it hasn't caused any damage. You don't have to kill yourself trying to find it right away."

"You don't know that," Harry snapped. He rubbed angrily at his scar. "I'm sure that he is linked to the Dark magic here, and Dark magic is harmful by its very definition. I have to find it."

Cedric sighed. "We will," he repeated. "But right now, you're getting some fresh air."

That did the trick. Harry's gaze finally shifted from the surrounding rubbish, and he looked at Godric in outright horror. "Outside?" he repeated. "It's November! There's already snow! And you're already past your curfew."

"Yes, Salazar, I really care about curfew," said Cedric dryly. "And don't start about snow, your leg doesn't hurt any more. Besides," he said, when Harry tried to open his mouth, "I've got something special planned."

Harry eyed him. "When you say special-"

"No, it has nothing to do with dragons," Cedric snapped. "You're not Helga."

"Are you sure? Because I remember the last special adventure you took me on very vividly, and I do not need another practical lesson on our school motto."

Cedric couldn't help a snort of laughter, and felt a warm glow when the corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "It has nothing to do with dragons, or any other dangerous beasts," he promised. "It'll be fun, I swear."

Harry still looked sceptical, but Cedric was used to that. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"He dodged us again."

"I know," Fred snapped. "I was there." George rolled his eyes, and Fred sighed. "Sorry. I just don't get what's going on with him."

George grunted an acknowledgement. Fred slumped back into the armchair, letting his gaze drift around the Common Room. "This would have been so much easier if he had ended up in Gryffindor too."

Honestly, he had been convinced that their friend would be joining them. Cedric had always been up for adventures for as long as they had known him, and he never backed down from a challenge.

George, though, was shaking his head. "I don't know. I thought he was going to be a Ravenclaw, what with all the time he spent talking about school with Bill and Percy."

"Nah, he's too much fun for a Ravenclaw," said Fred.

"They're not actually that bad," George pointed out. "Have you seen that third year who can make a light show when she plays violin?"

"Okay yeah, that is cool," Fred admitted, "but Cedric still should be with us!"

Someone cleared their throat behind them. "If I might interrupt for a moment?"

"Why ask when you're going to do it anyway?" Fred muttered. George elbowed him, and he pulled a face. "What do you want, Percy?"

Percy cleared his throat again and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I just wanted to point out that Cedric being in a different house doesn't mean he's not your friend any more. I have plenty of friends in other houses."

Fred opened his mouth, then closed it again when George kicked him. Percy eyed them both until George sighed. "We know, and we've been trying, but it's hard. Especially when he's avoiding us."

Percy sniffed. "I highly doubt he's ignoring you. Just because he's in a different house-"

"But that's not the problem!" Fred exploded. He pushed himself to his feet and started pacing in front of the fire. "He never waits for us after class, he always tries to dodge us in the corridors, half of the time we don't even see him at meals! There's something wrong, and we're going to find out what."

Because at the end of the day Cedric was their friend, and Fred knew there was something wrong and so nothing was going to stop him from helping. George's eyes met his in perfect understanding and agreement, and Fred felt his frustration cool to a steady glow. Cedric was smart and good at keeping secrets, but they were Weasleys. Nothing could stop them from helping a friend.

Although Percy might be a problem. Fred glared at his older brother, but before he could say anything Percy nodded.

"That doesn't sound like him at all. Is there anything I can do?"

Fred felt a rare surge of affection for the stuffiest member of the family, but then found himself hesitating. The only real clue they had about Cedric's behaviour was the boy they had seen him with that one time, and that wasn't much to go on. They hadn't even been able to get a good look at him. George caught his eye and coughed.

"Not really. We're just going to keep an eye on him and see if we can figure it out."

Percy sighed. "Or you could just talk to him?"

Twin snorts met his words. Percy rolled his eyes. "He's your friend. Why can't you talk to him?"

"Have you tried getting anything out of Cedric when he doesn't want to tell you?" Fred demanded. "He's impossible!"

George nodded. "It's been three years and we still don't know how he speaks Mandarin."

"Exactly." Fred dropped back into the armchair and folded his arms. "He's not going to tell us anything. We've got to be more sneaky."

"Merlin help us," Percy muttered.

Fred glanced at George, and saw his own mischief mirrored in his twin's eyes. As one they turned to Percy.

"Hey, Perce, you still interested in helping us out?"

The alarm that lit Percy's eyes was almost enough to make Fred forget his frustration. They would find out what Cedric was hiding eventually. It would probably end up being a disappointment, but they would have fun trying. If they could get Percy to loosen up too, that was just a nice bonus.

"It really shouldn't be this easy to sneak out of the school."

Harry didn't need to look to know that Cedric was rolling his eyes. "The students don't have our advantages. And they definitely don't know about some of these passages."

"Not even the Weasleys?" Harry asked.

This time Cedric did glance back long enough to scowl at him. "Stop it. They've only been here a couple of months." He paused. "And even they won't find this one. Now hurry up."

Harry grinned, but stepped up his pace. He had no intention of admitting it, but he had needed to get out of the Room of Requirement. He needed to keep working, to find out what Riddle had done to their school, but Cedric was right. Burning out wouldn't do anyone any good. He knew that from experience.

Harry had always loved Hogwarts at night. Without the crowds of students he was free to soak in the ambient magic of the castle, and all without having to worry about hiding from the rest of its inhabitants. He followed Cedric through the familiar passages, neither of them bothering with a light. Cedric had refused to tell him what they were doing, but just the idea of getting some fresh air was looking more and more appealing. Maybe he had spent too much time inside over the last couple of weeks.

"Hopefully the caretaker doesn't know about this one," Cedric murmured. "Charlie said he can be a pain to dodge."

"I think we'll manage," said Harry dryly.

Even without Hogwarts keeping an eye out for them, no one knew the castle better than they did. Cedric grinned back at him, then held up a hand as they reached the exit. For a minute they both froze, then Cedric relaxed.

"All right, everything's good. Come with me."

Harry followed close on his heels, tugging his cloak more tightly around himself. They had been lucky enough to avoid any heavy snowfalls so far, but the November night was still bitterly cold. He pushed himself into a jog, enjoying the lack of pain shooting through his leg.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

Cedric shook his head. "Still not a fan of surprises, I see." He tapped Harry's shoulder to direct him through the grounds towards a set of small huts. "Down there."

Harry frowned. He'd seen the buildings from a distance when he went running in the mornings, but he hadn't gotten round to investigating further. He let Cedric pass him, and followed his friend down until they came to a stop. The door was sealed with a simple locking charm that Cedric disposed of with embarrassingly little effort before turning to grin at Harry.

"You'll enjoy this."

Harry quirked an eyebrow, but one look inside left him gaping. "You have got to be joking."

Cedric burst out laughing. "I'm serious, Harry."

"I am not going flying! You do remember how awful they are, don't you?"

He tried to back away, but Cedric threw an arm around his shoulders. "Of course I do. It was like sitting on a stick." He grinned. "However, everyone else agreed and someone invented a wonderful spell known as the Cushioning Charm."

Harry hesitated. Cedric didn't waste the chance, "And there have been so many other developments. You know how even the best made brooms could barely go faster than a horse? Well, the latest Cleansweep can do nought to sixty in ten seconds! And you have got to see a professional Quidditch match, you have no idea what sort of things they can do nowadays-"

"All right," Harry interrupted. "I'll give it a try."

Cedric's smile was dazzling in the moonlight. "Thank you, Harry. I promise you won't regret it."

Harry scowled, but it was half-hearted at best. He was never able to say no to Godric when he got so excited about something. Not that much had changed. He sighed, and followed Cedric into the hut. "Let's get on with this."

He reached for the nearest broom, only for Cedric to grab his wrist. "Not that one! Look at the tail twigs, it'll be constantly drifting to the left! And not that one either," he added, when Harry changed direction. "See how the wood is warped? That will make it more unpredictable and harder to control."

Harry folded his arms. "I thought you said these things were good."

"They are," said Cedric. "But these are ancient because the governors won't pay for new ones. Bill and Charlie have been complaining about them for years." His expression turned thoughtful. "You know, these brooms really aren't safe for our students-"

"You are not setting them on fire," Harry interrupted. "Just show me which one is the best for a beginner."

Cedric pouted, an expression that did not work nearly as well as Helga's did, but walked up and down the racks studying the brooms and muttering under his breath. Harry waited as patiently as he could, until finally Cedric sighed and selected one of the brooms.

"Try this one. It's missing a lot of twigs so it won't accelerate properly, but that's probably for the best as it's your first time."

"Thanks," said Harry dryly.

At least the thing looked better than they used to. He could feel the spells holding it together, as well as many more that he couldn't identify but which felt like speed and flight. The magic soothed the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, and Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. "Ready?"

Harry took a deep breath, and followed him back out into the open. Cedric led them a little way across the lawn before he stopped and turned back to Harry. "This will be all right for now," he said. "Maybe if we do this again we'll try out the Quidditch stadium."

Harry bit back what he really wanted to say, but something must have shown on his face because Cedric rolled his eyes. "Anyway, this is how you mount a broom."

Godric had always been a good teacher, and a few minutes later found Harry seated far more comfortably than he had expected and ready to go. Cedric had mounted his own broom and manoeuvred it round so that was facing Harry.

"All right, so now we're going to kick off gently."

Harry nodded stiffly. His hands were beginning to shake from the cold, and he gripped the broom tighter. Cedric caught his eye. "I'll be right here," he promised. "The second I think something's going wrong I can take control of your broom and guide it back down."

Harry's trembling eased. He let out a long breath, and kicked off.

Flying was nothing like he remembered. Flying a thousand years ago had been painful and uncomfortable and terrifying.

Flying now was wonderful.

Harry had intended to go slowly. He knew his limits, and he wasn't going to do anything that Cedric hadn't shown him how to do, but flying wasn't difficult, flying was easy and instinctive and Harry couldn't help himself. For the first time in a long time all his worries fell away and he lost himself in the sheer thrill of flight.

"Harry!"

He had also completely forgotten about Cedric. Harry spun the broom round to hover in midair, and a moment later Cedric came to a halt in front of him. The older boy's eyes were very wide.

"Where did you learn how do to that?"

Harry laughed. "I don't know," he said breathlessly, "but this is incredible. Race you to the lake!"

He didn't give Cedric a chance to argue, but he heard laughter echo through the night sky and gave in to his own grin. The was the best thing he had done in months.

They spent longer than they should have testing out the brooms. Cedric showed Harry some of the tips and tricks he had learned from Charlie Weasley, and Harry let himself forget the stresses of the last few weeks. This was something new and something he could do well and Harry revelled in it.

Eventually though Cedric turned his broom towards the ground. Harry followed, taking the last opportunity to get as much speed out of the broom as possible, and landed lightly on the grass. Cedric quirked an eyebrow at him, and Harry was too flushed with exhilaration to care.

"Yes, you were right. That was fun."

Cedric threw an arm round his shoulders. "I'm glad you liked it. Though if Ro and Helga ask, you didn't do any of those stunts on your very first flight, okay?"

Harry ducked his head. He hadn't been able to resist. Cedric gave him a light shake. "We can do this again tomorrow night. I'll see if I can sneak out some Quidditch balls too. There's no way you won't make the house team if you can fly like that now."

"Thank you," said Harry quietly.

Cedric had always known what he needed. Cedric's arm tightened around his shoulders. "You're allowed to be a kid for a few years, Sal."

Harry wanted to argue, but with his heart still racing and the thrill of flight was still humming through his mind and he just couldn't find the words. Cedric just smiled, and pulled him into a quick hug, and under the starlit sky in the presence of his best friend, Harry finally let himself relax.

"You know," said Cedric, "new brooms really are a lot better. As well as safer."

Harry stared at him, but the combination of more speed, more comfort, and more manoeuvrability, was incredibly tempting. And it would be harder for Muggle-borns to learn on these ancient brooms. Flying was tricky enough without having to control a misbehaving broom, and the last thing first years needed was to get hurt during a lesson...

Cedric's grin was bigger than ever, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. But at least try to keep it inconspicuous."

"Of course," said Cedric gravely. His eyes were gleaming. "I found the best book of fire spells in the library, and I've been waiting to try them out."

Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

Alastor knocked brusquely on the door to Scrimgeour's office and pushed it open without waiting for a response. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, but had known him long enough to just wave him to a seat. Alastor did so, but not before kicking the door shut. They were the only ones still working, but there was no point in taking chances. He added the usual secrecy spells, and waited for Scrimgeour to add his own before he started to speak.

"I can't find the transcripts from Sirius Black's trial."

Scrimgeour's amber eyes narrowed, and he leaned back in his chair. "There's no shortage of people who could have accessed them."

That had been Alastor's first thought too. "Tried all the usual places. And the unusual ones. There's nothing except the records of his apprehension and transfer to Azkaban."

Scrimgeour stilled completely. "Can you think of any reason why someone would tamper with the trial records, and yet leave those?"

"No," Alastor growled. "Which leaves one possibility."

Scrimgeour's hand clenched on his cane. Alastor didn't even try to hide his own contempt. Neither of them had been on active duty at the time of Voldemort's defeat; Alastor due to having his leg blown off, while Scrimgeour had still been recovering from a particularly vicious curse to his knee that had refused to stop bleeding until what seemed like half of St Mungo's and Albus Dumbledore himself had joined forces on the problem. That didn't mean they were unaware of the chaos that had followed Voldemort's defeat.

Too few Aurors and too many convicts were no excuse for not giving proper trials.

Alastor could see the anger building in his boss' eyes, but Scrimgeour's voice remained quiet.

"The visit has been authorised for three days from now. Take note of whatever Black says. Find out what happened."

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't there be more than one Auror in attendance for that?"

"There should have been a trial," Scrimgeour snarled. He took a moment to collect himself, the frustration vanishing under his usual languid calm, before continuing, "I'll talk to Amelia, but going through the proper channels will take too long. We might as well get a head start."

Alastor nodded. He had no problem with that. No matter what Black had done, everyone deserved a fair trial. They would get to the truth, one way or another.

Chapter Text

Remus Lupin had been terrified of Azkaban for as long as he could remember. As a child his grandmother had told him stories that had given him nightmares for months. After he became a werewolf, after he became dangerous, the fear had only increased. Even now, as a fully trained wizard capable of producing a perfectly adequate Patronus, just thinking about Dementors was enough to make him break out in a sweat.

Sirius had been in Azkaban for eight years.

He deserved it. He had betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort, he had got them killed, he had murdered Peter. If anyone deserved imprisonment in that hell it was Sirius Black.

Or so Remus had spent eight years trying to tell himself.

The boat lurched, and Remus grabbed hold of the side before he took an unwelcome dip in the North Sea. The spells propelling the boat were perfectly adequate, but not exactly designed with passenger comfort in mind.

"Careful, Lupin," came a gravelly voice. "The boat won't stop for you."

Remus glanced round. Alastor's magical eye was spinning in every direction, but there was a definite glint in his real one. Remus snorted. "You tried that one on us during the war, Alastor, and we didn't believe it then."

"Pettigrew did," Alastor shot back. "So did Potter, for that matter."

Despite the awful circumstances, Remus had to smile at the memory. For one of the most brilliant people Remus had ever known, James had had his moments of being remarkably trusting. Remus and Peter had taken full advantage of his lack of knowledge about the Muggle world, and the older members of the Order had seized on the rare moments of levity.

The smile died though as Alastor nodded past him.

"There we are, lad. Hell on earth."

Remus swallowed. It had been a bright winter morning when they left. Now the sky was thick was grey clouds, and the high walls of Azkaban seemed to suck out what little light remained. A shiver wracked his body. They were too far for the Dementors to be affecting him, but just the thought...

"Lupin. Focus."

"Yes, sir," said Remus automatically, before remembering that he wasn't in the Order any more and flushing. Alastor just rolled his eyes.

"Mind the bump as we dock. And let me do that talking."

"That's fine by me," said Remus. He had no intention of going anywhere near the guards. He braced himself against the side of the boat as they drew alongside the pier, and watched as the ropes uncoiled themselves and secured the vessel.

Alastor hopped ashore with far more agility than would be expected of a man with a wooden leg. Remus followed more reluctantly. Thick fog was rolling down from the tower, and he shivered. Already he could feel the presence of the Dementors bearing down on him, bringing all the thoughts of his losses and failures bubbling to the surface of his mind...

"Focus, Lupin," Alastor snapped. "Or stay in the boat."

Lupin shook his head. "Yes, sorry. I'll be fine."

He would have been insulted by the scepticism in Alastor's eye if he wasn't feeling so awful. Alastor jabbed his wand, and a brilliant silver badger burst into life at his feet. Immediately the growing feelings of despair faded, and Remus took a shaky breath. He fumbled for his own wand, a moment later his wolf joined Alastor's badger. Alastor quirked an eyebrow, and Remus flushed.

"I can make it noncoporeal," he muttered.

Alastor's other eyebrow shot up. "Impressive control, but stick to that one for now. Come on." He started down the path to the prison, then paused, and glanced back. "Concentrate on your Patronus, or whatever memory is sustaining it. Keep that at full power. Don't look at the Dementors, don't look at the prisoners, and don't wander off."

Remus swallowed. "Don't worry about that."

He stuck a bit closer to Alastor than was strictly necessary as they made their way along the path, but the Auror didn't say anything. Two Dementors were stationed at the entrance, but Alastor's stride didn't falter as he stomped forward.

"Alastor Moody, Auror, with Remus Lupin. We are here on the authorisation of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

For a moment neither Dementor moved, but Alastor held firm and they finally moved aside. Remus took a deep breath, pushed more power into his wolf, and followed Alastor into Azkaban. The cold increased as he passed the Dementors, but the wolf pressed close against his side and Remus forced himself to keep looking straight ahead. He wasn't a criminal. He was allowed to be here. He had nothing to be afraid of.

"He's in cell 39," Alastor muttered. "Let's get this over with."

Several corridors and three flights of stairs later, Remus was all but ready to flee back to the boat. The stench of the Dementors was making his nose burn, and even with the two Patronuses it was a struggle to keep his worst memories from overwhelming him.

It was small consolation that Alastor was also looking pale by the time they reached the right floor.

"Not going to miss this part of the job," he grunted. The badger nosed at his knee, and he straightened. "That way."

"You're retiring?" Remus asked. He'd thought the older man would die at his post.

"Focus, Lupin."

Remus suppressed a sigh, and followed. Maybe he was too easily distracted. Now that he was there though, there was no hiding from the fact that was about to come face to face with his only surviving friend. One of the people who had made his school years bearable, and had gone on to murder three of their friends.

For once, Alastor didn't prompt him into action. In fact his dark eye was surprisingly gentle. Remus took a deep breath, and stepped in front of the bars.

He had to squint to see anything. The only light came from a flickering torch by the stairs, and Sirius' cell was one of the furthest along. All he could make out was a misshapen lump hidden in the shadows, and after a moment's hesitation Remus waved his wolf closer to the bars.

"Sirius?"

In the silver light of the Patronus the lump coalesced into a mound of tattered blankets. Remus' stomach lurched as he took in the grimy cell, with the stained stone floor and the streaks of mould on the walls. Sirius had spent the last eight years here, in a cell that was barely five paces long.

"Sirius?"

There was still no answer. Alastor rolled his eyes and stomped forward. "Black," he barked. "On your feet. We're here to talk to you."

For a minute there was no reply, then the blankets shifted. A head of matted black hair, so different from the shining waves Remus remembered, appeared, and then Remus found himself frozen in place at the sight of his best friend.

Sirius looked...insane. His skin was waxy, and so stretched over his bones that he could have been a corpse. The wild hair, beard, and moustache only added to the impression, but worse still were the eyes. In Remus' memories they sparkled with fire and mischief. Now they burned with an obsession bordering on the deranged. It took a moment for them to focus on Remus, then the cracked lips drew up in a slash of a smile.

"Hello, Moony," he rasped. "It's been a while."

"Hello, Sirius," said Remus quietly.

He was amazed by how steady his voice was. He had known that Azkaban was a terrible place, but this...

"Black," Alastor snapped. "We're here to talk to you."

Sirius' eyes finally left Remus'. "Moody. Nice eye. Eyepatch might have been less traumatic for the kids, y'know. You'd have made an awesome pirate too."

Despite himself, the corner of Remus' mouth twitched before he quickly suppressed it. It had been a long time. Alastor just grunted.

"Enough chatter. We're here to talk about you."

The awful smile widened. "You know everything about me. Sirius Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the man who couldn't protect his brother, and who got his best friends killed, and who couldn't avenge them-"

"Black!" Alastor snapped, cutting off the increasingly hysterical ranting, but Remus' mind had already locked on his words.

"Avenge them? How could you avenge them, you betrayed them!"

Sirius moved faster than Remus had thought possible. He lunged forward to seize the cell bars. "I never betrayed them! I would have died before betraying them! I failed and I got them killed but I never betrayed them!"

"You're not making any sense!" Remus snarled. "You were the Secret-Keeper! You were the only one who could have told Voldemort-"

"I wasn't the Secret-Keeper!"

Remus jerked back. "W-what?"

Next to him, Alastor had gone very still. Sirius' eyes didn't leave Remus'. "James asked me," he said, and his voice had fallen to a scratchy whisper. "He trusted me. But I had to be clever, I thought it would be safer if they used someone they'd never suspect..."

Everything fell into place, and the wolf Patronus vanished at the same moment Remus' knees buckled. "Peter. They...they used Peter."

"Hold on," Alastor interrupted. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

Sirius let out a hollow laugh, so different from the joyful sound of their Hogwarts years. "Look around. Being innocent is the only thing that's kept me sane. It's the only thing the Dementors can't take from me."

Alastor's scowl deepened, but he said nothing. Remus stared from him to Black. "Could that be true?"

Sirius did seem different from the other inmates. They were either talking nonsense, or barely conscious lumps. Sirius though... The obsession was there, but Sirius had always been intense, and after eight years with just one thing to focus on...

"Of course it's true!" Sirius screamed. "I would have died before betraying James! I would have died for any of you! But no one asked! They locked me up and let Peter get away with murdering all those people and no one ever cared about the truth because of course Sirius Black was evil and deranged like all the rest of his psycho family-"

"Wait," Remus interrupted. "What do you mean no one asked?"

Next to him Alastor tensed, but Remus couldn't tear his eyes from Sirius'. Sirius, who had gone very still. "No," he said, and this time his voice was very soft. "No one asked."

"But at the trial-"

"What trial?" Sirius laughed again. "That bastard Crouch found a Black and some dead bodies, that was all he needed."

Remus had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing. "You...you didn't have a trial."

How was that even possible? Yes, things had been chaotic after Voldemort's fall, but they weren't savages. Everyone was entitled to a trial. Bellatrix Lestrange and her accomplices had had a trial.

Then he realised that Alastor had yet to say a word, and whirled on the Auror.

"You knew."

"Not until two days ago," sad Alastor quietly. Neither of his eyes were meeting Remus'. "Things would be different if I had."

"You were the most successful Auror in the country," Remus snarled. "How could you not know?"

"Because I was either in St. Mungo's or on the streets," Alastor snapped. "Along with all the others who actually did our jobs in that time." He scrubbed a hand over his worn features, and when he looked back his eyes were flashing. "We spent months tracking those bastards down, and we did our jobs right, damn it. Everything we had we handed over, then we went back and started after the next maniac. Everyone was supposed to get a trial!"

Remus glared at him, but there was no lie in Alastor's face. He remembered the chaos of those days and weeks; no one had known what had happened or what was going to happen next. It had taken months for everything to return to normal.

Maybe it wasn't so surprising that trials had been neglected, especially for such a seemingly clear-cut case as Sirius'.

Sirius gripped the bars, his burning gaze locking into Remus.

"I never betrayed them," he croaked. "I would have died first."

Sirius had never been able to lie to his friends. Remus looked at him, at the desperation in his face, and finally believed him.

But even as relief left his knees shaking, the revelation sent a spike of ice through his stomach. If Sirius had never been a Death Eater, if he had no knowledge of any plans they might have had in the event if Voldemort's defeat...

"Oh no."

Sirius drew back, expression closing off, and Remus was quick to clarify. "Not you! If you're innocent..." He couldn't let himself think about that, and forged on, "But you don't know anything about what the Death Eaters were doing? Or planning?"

"Of course not," Sirius insisted. "How could I? And no one talks in here, they're all crazy." His eyes bored into Remus'. "Why? What's going on?"

Remus bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He had no idea what telling Sirius about Harry might do, and then there was Alastor. Albus had clearly been trying to keep Harry's disappearance quiet, and it wasn't the kind of thing Alastor could or would keep from his superiors. Telling them would be a terrible mistake.

Harry was missing, and Remus didn't care.

"I hoped you might," he said quietly, "because Harry is missing."

"What?" Alastor demanded.

"Missing?" hissed Sirius at the same moment. His knuckles turned white on the bars. "When? How? He was supposed to be safe, Hagrid promised me that he was going to his family-"

"He did," said Remus quickly. He ran a hand through his hair. "He disappeared at the start of the summer."

Alastor's magical eye was spinning fast enough to make Remus feel slightly queasy. "And were only finding out now?" he snarled. "It's our job to find missing persons, especially if they're children. Does Albus know?" He interrupted himself with a harsh laugh. "Of course he does. Albus has to keep his secrets." He turned away for a moment, and when he looked back both eyes fixed on Remus. "You know I have to tell Scrimgeour about this."

"I don't care," said Remus. "I just want Harry found before anything happens."

Alastor nodded shortly. "We'll need to know everything you do. We'll keep it strictly need to know, the last thing we need is this getting out, but if Albus hasn't found him yet..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Remus nodded. He trusted the Headmaster with his life, but this visit had only confirmed that the old wizard wasn't perfect. He had made mistakes with Sirius, and Sirius had spent nearly a decade paying the price. They couldn't let anything happen to Harry.

Speaking of Sirius, he had been far too quiet since hearing about Harry, and that was never a good sound. Remus glanced round and found him staring straight ahead. His hands were still clenched around the bars, but his face held absolutely no expression.

The sight made Remus' stomach clench. Sirius was brilliant and passionate and a hundred other things, but never unemotional. Never like this.

"Sirius?"

Sirius didn't move. Remus took a step closer, and still not even a flicker.

"Black," Alastor barked. "You in there?"

A low rattle of a breath escaped Sirius' lips. "Harry's missing?"

Remus exchanged a look with Alastor, and saw his own wariness echoed in the Auror's scarred face. "Albus thinks he's fine," he said. "Just...lost."

Sirius' jaw clenched until Remus could hear his teeth grinding, but he said nothing. Alastor folded his arms. "We'll find him," he said gruffly. "In the meantime, I'll talk to the boss and get a trial sorted."

Something flickered in Sirius' eyes, something that made Remus stiffen. "Sirius, we can't get you out without a trial. I'll keep looking for Harry, but you can't do anything until then." He hesitated, asking Sirius to stay out of trouble was like asking the sun to stop, but it wasn't like Sirius could do anything. "Don't panic," he settled on, finally. "We'll get you out of here as soon as you can."

Sirius nodded tightly, but otherwise didn't respond. Remus bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and stepped up to the bars. "I'll find Harry," he said fiercely. "I swear it."

The look in Sirius' eyes was really starting to scare him. Remus was just drawing in breath to try again when Alastor caught his shoulder.

"Think that's enough for one day," he said. Under the harsh tones was an unmistakeable undercurrent of concern. "Being in here affects their ability to concentrate. Best leave him be."

"Best to leave him with Dementors?" Remus repeated.

Even with Alastor's Patronus, he could feel the foul things pressing at the edges of his mind. It had been hard enough to imagine Sirius in here when Remus was convinced he was a mass-murderer and traitor. Now it went against every fibre of his being to leave an innocent man here.

"I know, lad," Alastor growled. "Believe me, I know. Which is why the sooner we get back and get things in motion the better." His voice dropped further. "And we need to start looking for Potter."

Still Remus hesitated, torn between his loyalty his friend and to Harry, but before he could wrestle too much with the problem a harsh rattle interrupted him.

"Go, Moony," Sirius rasped. "Find Harry. Find him. Find Harry, you hear me? Find him!"

"I will," Remus promised. "I swear, I will."

But Sirius barely seemed to hear him. He continued to thrash against the bars, his voice rising in a barely-human howl that made Remus flinch away. He didn't protest when Alastor nudged him back in the direction of the entrance, but his need to find Harry crystallised into something much fiercer.

He would find Harry. He would get Sirius out. Then there would be hell to pay.

For eight years, Sirius Black had been able to think of nothing but his own innocence. His own survival. It was the only thing he could do. The Dementors had sucked him dry of happy memories. All there was was the crushing knowledge that he had failed, that James and Lily had died because of his arrogance, that Peter had betrayed them...

But then Remus was there, and Moody, and they were talking about a trial but Sirius stopped caring about that the moment he mentioned Harry.

Harry was supposed to be with Petunia. Harry was supposed to be safe.

Harry wasn't with Petunia. Harry wasn't safe.

For the first time in eight years, Sirius Black focused on more than just survival. James had trusted him, and he had failed. He wouldn't fail again. Remus and Moody believed him, but Sirius knew better than anyone how useless the Ministry was. He couldn't rely on them. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember if he had actually told them that Peter was still alive.

He would just have to take matters into his own hands.

Albus was seriously beginning to wonder if Hogwarts had gained a second poltergeist.

The explosion over the summer. The exorcism of Professor Binns. Now, he could add the destruction of the broom shed to his list. Once again there hadn't been the slightest tremor from the wards, and the perpetrator had left no clues as to their identity. Whoever was responsible for this was growing to be a serious threat to his school.

And yet...

No one had been harmed. Binns had left of his own volition. The fire that had consumed the broom shed had been set in the dead of night, and hadn't even scorched the grass. In both cases, things had actually turned to the students' benefit. Binns had been a loyal friend, but there was no denying that young Belinda was a far superior teacher. Students were even staying awake in class now. And Rolanda had been ecstatic over the opportunity to get the students decent brooms. Poppy had been equally delighted; the number of first years due to visiting the Hospital Wing due to accidents caused by faulty brooms had already dropped dramatically.

Albus removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. What they were dealing with wasn't a poltergeist. If anything it was the complete opposite. Something that was breaking both rules and laws with equal abandon, but always in ways that benefitted the students of Hogwarts.

After spending decades as a teacher, Albus had thought that nothing could surprise him. Hogwarts clearly loved proving him wrong. Fawkes let out a gentle trill, and Albus reached up to stroke his feathers. His friend dipped his head to nuzzle his cheek, and Albus let the song soothe his nerves.

"What are we going to do, Fawkes?"

Fawkes hummed again, and at the same moment the fireplace flared green. Albus rose to his feet, Fawkes hopping to his shoulder as he did so, and as he crossed the room Fudge's panicked voice rang through the room.

"Albus, are you there? I need you here as soon as possible! Something terrible has happened!"

"How did they turn only their skin pink?"

Cedric laughed. "No idea, but I suspect it involved getting on the house elves' good side." He shook his head. "They'd better not make a habit of it, or Helga will kill them."

Harry had to smile. As much as the twins' antics got on his nerves, he couldn't deny that they had a talent for pranks. "I doubt she'll be too impressed," he agreed. "She wasn't when I gave them that potion to make your hair stand on end."

"I knew that was you!"

Dodging hexes was tricky when one was laughing their head off, but Harry managed. Cedric glowered at him. "You're a menace. Still."

'I am sorry to interrupt,' said Hogwarts gently. "But something has happened.'

The laughter died immediately. "What's wrong?" Harry demanded. "Is there danger?"

'No, or at least no immediate danger. The Headmaster has been summoned to the Ministry of Magic. Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban.'

Harry frowned, but it was Cedric who voiced the question on both their minds. "Who the hell is Sirius Black?"

Chapter Text

Cedric loved the ceiling of the Great Hall. It had taken the four of them nearly two years to perfect, but the effort was well worth it. Even now, centuries later, the magic blazed as brightly as it had when Hogwarts first opened, and Cedric could quite happily spend hours just watching the results of their hard work.

He was rather less happy to do so when he was desperately awaiting a letter, and the post was late. He had garnered a few curious looks from his friends over the course of the meal, but for once Cedric was too impatient to do more than nibble on an apple. He needed that letter. He had to know what was going on.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and Cedric's wand was in his hand before he knew what was happening.

"Woah, easy there! No enemies here!"

Cedric's cheeks burned, and he stuffed his wand back in his robes. "Sorry," he said. He was on the verge of offering an excuse, but at that moment he happened to glance up and what came out his mouth was, "Did the Weasley twins get you?"

The girl blinked, then burst out laughing. "No, this is all me. I'm a Metamorphagus."

Cedric watched in fascination as her hair cycled through a startling range of lengths and colours before finally returning to shoulder-length emerald green. She grinned and stuck out a hand. "I'm Tonks."

"Cedric," said Cedric, shaking it. The name rang a bell, and he placed it a moment later. "Do you know Charlie Weasley?"

"Ever since first year," said Tonks, with a nod. She cocked her head to one side. "Cedric...Yeah, he's mentioned you. Actually, I think I've heard Runcorn talking about you, and now I get why. Those are some good reflexes you've got."

Cedric rubbed the back of his head. "We can thank Fred and George for that."

It wasn't a complete lie. The twins did provide a certain challenge. Tonks just snorted. "Yeah, I can imagine. So what had you so distracted anyway? Everything okay?"

Cedric smiled. Tonks was far from the first older Hufflepuff to check in on the younger ones. "I'm fine thanks, just waiting for a letter from my dad."

Tonks nodded, her hair darkening slightly. "If you say so. If you ever want to chat or anything, you know where to find me." She grinned suddenly. "And if you ever need a break, I do a mean Snape impression."

"Pun intended?" Cedric asked.

That earned him another explosive snort. "Happy accident." Her currently violet eyes flickered up, and she nudged him. "And it looks like you're in luck."

Cedric followed her gaze, and brightened at the sight of the owls soaring into the Great Hall. It was impossible to pick out a single owl among the hundreds of birds overhead, but a moment later Athena swooped down to land next to him. Cedric stroked her speckled plumage.

"Hi, girl," he said softly. "Are you all right?"

He held up a piece of bacon, which she accepted with a grateful hoot. Tonks leaned forwards. "She's beautiful. Is she yours or the family's?"

"Family," Cedric told her. "We've had her for nearly three years now." Athena hooted again and nibbled gently at his fingers before extending her leg to let Cedric untie the reassuringly thick letter. "Thanks," he said. He passed her another piece of bacon, and gave her final scratch. "Go and get a good rest."

Athena needed no further encouragement. Cedric turned his attention to the letter, his heart racing at the sight of his father's elegant cursive. This might be exactly what they needed, and he had to show Harry as soon as possible. He shoved the letter into his pocket and swung his legs over the bench, only for Tonks to catch his arm.

"Hey, hold up," she said. "What about breakfast? It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

Cedric fought back the retort that sprang to his lips, and grabbed a piece of toast from the table. "I know, but I have to check this. Thanks, Tonks."

He was off and running before she had a chance to protest. A couple of his friends called out questions, but Cedric ignored them. He squeezed through the groups of students talking in the Entrance Hall, but before he could take refuge in one of the secret passages a lanky form planted itself in his path.

"There you are, Cedric. I've been looking for you."

Cedric had to bite his cheek to keep from cursing. Percy pushed his glasses up his nose, his brow furrowing into a frown. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Percy," said Cedric quickly. He offered the older boy a smile. "Just wanted to answer a letter before Transfiguration."

Percy nodded, but his blue eyes didn't leave Cedric's and Cedric had to fight the urge to fidget. He knew how smart Percy was, and he also knew that he was far more perceptive than the twins gave him credit for. Cedric forced his best innocent look to his face.

"Is something wrong?"

"Why don't you tell me?" said Percy.

Cedric bit his lip. He should have known that Fred and George would call in reinforcements. Percy sighed, and gestured for him to move over to the wall, away from curious ears. "I know you're excited to be here," he said. "And you've got your own friends, and you're doing your own thing, but Fred and George seem to think that you're trying to ignore them."

"I'm not," Cedric insisted. "Well, not really," he amended, when Percy raised an eyebrow at him. "We just seem to keep missing each other."

The lies sat uneasily on his lips, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It wasn't like he didn't want to spend time with his friends, but they were annoyingly sneaky and they knew him well. They would be able to tell he was hiding something, and then it would only be harder to spend time with Harry. After all the years apart, Cedric didn't want to risk that.

But he also couldn't keep avoiding Fred and George. His new friends deserved better than that.

"I'll try and catch up with them later," he said finally. He ran a hand through his hair, and offered Percy a sheepish smile. "I guess I got a bit caught up in being here."

Percy's somewhat severe expression softened. "That's understandable. I was the same way when I first got here. And don't worry about Fred and George. They just miss you."

Cedric could only nod. Percy clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, good. And if you ever need anything, you know where I am." He started to turn away, then paused. "Oh, Cedric, you haven't seen Scabbers around, have you?"

"Scabbers?" Cedric repeated. "No, sorry. Has he gone missing?"

Percy nodded, his face falling. "I'm afraid so. I haven't seen him since Monday."

Cedric frowned. He knew the Weasleys' situation, and for all that Scabbers was just an old rat the whole family was very fond of him. "I'll keep an eye out," he promised. "I'm sure he'll turn up."

"Thank you," said Percy, with a sigh. "And you'll remember what I said, won't you?"

"Yes, Percy," said Cedric quietly.

"All right then. Now hurry up and see to that letter. You don't want to be late for McGonagall."

Cedric gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought, and dashed off with the sound of Percy's laughter ringing in his ears.

Cedric's own spirits weren't quite as high. Maybe he had spent so much time trying not to neglect Harry that he had ended up neglecting his friends. It wasn't a feeling he liked. He would have to find a way to do better.

Cedric shook his head sharply. He could work things out with Fred and George later. Right now, he and Harry had other work to do.

His lungs were burning by the time he reached the seventh floor, but Cedric didn't care. He and Harry had done what investigating they could, but neither Hogwarts nor the ghosts had been unable to tell them much. Just the fact that Black had been best friends with James Potter had been enough to get them invested though, and Cedric had reached out to the best source he knew. Hopefully it would be enough to keep Harry from doing something rash.

For once the piles of rubbish were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were the remains of several wooden training dummies, and a Harry that was unable to sit still.

"I tried to talking to Helena again, and Edmund," he said, as soon as Cedric entered, "but they couldn't tell me much else." He shook his head. "This would be much easier if they weren't so isolated from even their own houses."

Cedric grimaced, but he could see why the two ghosts would value their privacy so highly. He held up the letter. "Hopefully we'll get something here."

Harry brightened and shot to Cedric's side so they could read it together. He let out a low whistle at the multiple sheets that spilled out. "How did they get all this information?"

"My dad hears everything," said Cedric, with a smirk. "Everyone trusts Hufflepuffs." Harry snorted, and Cedric continued, "and he's been working there for years and knows where to get the best gossip."

Harry grinned, but it quickly faded as he scanned the letter. "They're reopening the case, they're advocating for a trial, and he still escaped? Why?"

Cedric shook his head. It didn't make much sense to him either. Harry swore under his breath in Arabic and started pacing.

"Do you think he did it?"

"Murder a dozen Muggles? No," said Cedric. He plucked the letter from Harry's hands, and glanced over it. "And common consensus in the Ministry seems to be that it was this Pettigrew as well."

That raised even more questions, considering Pettigrew had also been a friend, but Black was the priority and Cedric kept reading, "Moody is the driving force behind the re-examination, and he's one of the best Aurora in the country, and the other friend, Lupin, is convinced that Black is innocent..."

His voice trailed off as he reached the last page of the letter, ice spiking through his stomach, but Harry was still preoccupied.

"Then why was he in Azkaban? With Dementors? I know things must have been chaos, but it's bad enough that criminals are sent there, let alone innocents! How was this not discovered sooner?"

Cedric said nothing. Harry spun back, eyes narrowing, and Cedric sighed.

"There's something else," he said quietly. He handed over the last page. Harry glanced at it, then the temperature in the room suddenly dropped. His hands clenched into fists, and Cedric rescued the letter before Harry crushed it.

Harry barely noticed. "Godfather. He's my godfather."

Cedric set the letter down, and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. He said nothing, but he could feel Harry trembling against him and ran a hand through his friend's messy hair.

"He was innocent," Harry hissed against his chest. "He was innocent, and he spent eight years with Dementors, and no one cared. And I was stuck with..." He trailed off with an incoherent snarl.

Cedric hugged him tighter. "A lot of people care now," he murmured. "Even if people are offended by his escape, he's already spent eight years in there for a crime he didn't commit. Of course if he handed himself in he could prove his innocence and be cleared faster, but-"

"But that would take time, and he's already spent years there," said Harry bitterly. He shifted, and when Cedric let him go he immediately started pacing again. "How did this happen? We were both...None of this should have happened!"

Cedric said nothing. All the anger that had been building over Black's false imprisonment had doubled at the revelation that he was Harry's godfather. Harry could have had had a safe, happy childhood with someone who loved him. Instead they had both been alone.

Judging from the faint breeze tugging at his hair, Harry was all too aware of that. When he finally turned back, his green eyes were flashing. "If I broke out of prison, the first thing I'd do would be to find someone who could help. Someone I trusted."

Despite the situation, Cedric couldn't help a grin. "If? That's exactly what you did do."

Harry rolled his eyes, but a smile twitched his lips at the memory. "And I was perfectly correct to do so, wasn't I?" He shook his head, smile fading. "The point is, if I were Sirius Black, and the one friend I had left had recently visited me in prison and believed my story, I know what I would do."

"Agreed," said Cedric, with a nod. "And it would be perfectly reasonable for you to write to a close friend of your parents asking for information about your newly-discovered godfather."

Harry blinked. "Write? Don't I need an address? I know nothing about Lupin."

Cedric shook his head. "I asked my Mum about it ages ago. They used to use loads of spells to make it easier for post birds to find recipients, and over time the magic just got bred into them. A name is all they need." He crossed the room to clap Harry on the shoulder. "And Hogwarts has a lot of owls for any student to use."

It sounded like a perfect plan to him, but Harry hesitated. "Wouldn't that be strange? For them to just hear from me out of the blue?"

"I suppose so," Cedric allowed. "But do we have any better ideas?"

Harry scowled, But said nothing. Cedric glanced at his watch and winced. "McGonagall's gonna kill me. Look, they won't be able to track you, especially not here. It might be worth a try. I've really got to run, but think about it, all right?"

"Fine," Harry muttered.

Cedric hesitated. Something was wrong here, but even as he opened his mouth Harry shook his head. "I'll think about it. Now go on, before you're late."

There was no arguing with that expression. Cedric gave him another quick hug, then ran for the door. He really hoped McGonagall was in a good mood. Between Harry, the twins, and Sirius Black Transfiguration was going to be a nightmare.

But despite himself, Cedric was in good spirits as he took the steps three at a time. Harry had a godfather. He had people that knew his father, and wanted the best for him. There was a chance for him to have a happy home, and if Black really was innocent then Cedric would do everything in his power to see them reunited.

They both deserved it.

Amelia Bones was one of the most formidable witches of her time. Albus had been aware if that ever since she passed every one of her first year exams with the highest marks seen in years. The rest of her time at Hogwarts, and her later career as an Auror and Head of the DMLE, had only cemented her reputation as a witch who was not to be crossed.

This wasn't the first time Albus had ended up in her bad books, but he had never seen her look quite this furious.

"July."

Albus nodded. Amelia's lips were a thin line. "A boy has been missing for five months," she said, and the ice in her voice made a winter at Hogwarts seem mild. "Were you ever planning on informing us?"

Albus sighed. "The particular circumstances-"

"Damn the circumstances," Amelia snapped. "I don't care if it's the Boy Who Lived or the Queen of Sheba, if a child is missing you don't spend months trying to investigate discreetly at the cost of the child's safety!"

Albus opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was very little he could say to that. Scrimgeour pushed himself off from the wall and limped forward.

"Do you have any leads?"

His amber gaze was just as intense as Amelia's. Albus sighed. "I'm afraid not. None of my suspects even knew Harry was missing."

Scrimgeour exchanged a grim look with Amelia, but before either of them could say anything Alastor cleared his throat. "And now Sirius Black does too."

Albus closed his eyes for a moment. One more mistake to add to a lifetime of them. He looked up in time to see Scrimgeour scowl. "Just what we needed," he muttered. "But you can hardly blame the man."

"Certainly not," said Albus quietly. Sirius would never abandon James' son, not even if the cost was his own freedom.

Amelia straightened, and all eyes returned to her. Her sharp gaze travelled round the room, before finally settling in Albus. "We are going to find both of them," she said grimly. "Potter and Black. And you, Albus, are going to tell us everything you know."

Instincts born of a lifetime of discretion blazed up, but Albus forced them down. Harry was more important. Alastor grunted approval, but Scrimgeour quirked an eyebrow. "And what are we going to tell the Minister?"

Alastor's face creased into a fierce scowl. "We tell him and we tell Malfoy," he spat. "And all the rest of his Death Eater chums."

"We are fortunate that the information is currently contained," said Albus. If the revelation had been made anywhere other than Azkaban then they might have been in serious trouble, but as it was he was reasonably confident that they were the only people in the Ministry who knew that Harry Potter was missing.

Of course, that state of affairs was not going to last. Not with the sheer number of Death Eaters and sympathisers in the Ministry. All they could do was try to minimise the damage, and find Harry as soon as possible. Albus could only pray that they wouldn't be too late.

"That looks painful, Uncle."

Harry spared his niece a small smile. "I think I'd rather face a troll."

One didn't have to talk to trolls. Honestly though, Harry would take anything over this. He had already spent most of the morning staring at the piece of blank parchment Cedric had left him, and he was still no closer to working out how to begin.

Helena floated down next to him.

"Would you like some help? I didn't really know any of them, but they were somewhat noticeable over the seven years they were here."

She had told them as much earlier, and Harry certainly wasn't going to turn down any help. "Thank you." He sighed, twirling his quill between his fingers. "I don't even know where to start."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "You could introduce yourself?"

Harry snorted. "I wouldn't believe that."

"You're the most paranoid person in history," said Helena dryly. She shifted so that she was sat perfectly poised in midair. "I expect simply telling the truth about what living with your relatives was like would be sufficient. Lupin and Black must have met them at some point."

Harry nodded, but didn't move. Helena cocked her head to one side, then her eyes suddenly widened. "Uncle..."

"Never mind," Harry muttered.

It came out a little more curt than he had intended, but Helena didn't move. She started to reach for him, before breaking off with a frustrated huff and shaking her head.

"Uncle, those four were inseparable," she said gently. "Black is your godfather. You know they would want to hear from you. No, they will be desperate to hear from you."

Harry's throat was too tight to answer. Helena touched his arm, scowling when her hand passed straight through. "Uncle..."

"The Dursleys hate me."

The words stung, but Harry couldn't hide from them. They were his family, and they had never wanted him. Maybe it was irrational, but even the thought that his godfather might react the same way...

"Black won't," said Helena fiercely. "He doesn't, and Lupin doesn't."

"Helena-"

Then he broke off with a hiss as Helena shoved her whole hand through his chest. The icy cold left him gasping, and Helena glared at him.

"The Dursleys are nothing," she spat. "Don't you dare try to deny yourself happiness because of them." Her voice softened slightly. "Please, Uncle. You know better than this."

Harry stared at her, then at the quill he had crushed in his hand. She was right. Cedric was right. Black and Lupin had cared about his father. They had to care about him too.

He took a deep breath, and repaired the quill with a thought. He had to try. He dipped the tip in the ink, forced himself to ignore the way it was shaking, and started to write.

Remus sat in what passed for a park in central Birmingham. The moon hung in the night sky, close enough to full that Remus couldn't ignore the deep itch beneath his skin but he remained still. A few Muggle teens hovered by the entrance, but some primal instinct made them keep walking. Remus settled back against the bench and waited.

Hours passed. Remus burrowed deeper into his threadbare coat, but otherwise didn't move. If he had learned anything over the years it was patience. It wasn't the first night he had waited out here. If it wasn't the last, then so be it.

Then something moved in the shadows.

Remus rested his hand on his wand, but otherwise didn't move. The shape coalesced into an enormous black dog which padded forward and came to a stop just out of arm's reach. Clear grey eyes met Remus', and for the first time in a long time Remus let himself relax.

"You got my message then."

The dog cocked his head to one side, tongue lolling out happily as he nudged Remus' knee with his nose. For a moment it was almost like they were teenagers again, and Remus was watching his friends mess around with their Animagus forms. He smiled, and pushed himself to his feet.

"My flat isn't far. We've got a lot to talk about."

Sirius gambolled around like a puppy as they made their way through the silent streets. Remus couldn't blame him. He got restless enough if he stayed inside for a few days, let alone...

Remus shook himself. If he started thinking about what his friend had endured then he wouldn't get anything done. Sirius paused, ears twitching in his direction, and Remus forced a smile.

"It's nothing. Not far now."

Sirius gave a soft huff, and stuck close to his side for the rest of the way.

It was late enough that even the student that lived above him were quiet. Remus locked the door, and by the time he turned back Sirius was standing in his human form. For a long moment they stared at each other, then Sirius gave a crooked smile.

"Good to see you without bars in the way, Moony."

And in an instant it was like nothing had changed and Remus pulled his friend into a tight hug

Finally, Sirius drew back, and though he was smiling there was a fierce glint in his eye.

"Now," he said. "How are we going to find Harry?"

Remus had expected nothing else, but he had to ask, "Are you sure you don't want to prove your innocence first? If you turn yourself in now-"

"I'll spend weeks stuck in a holding cell while they re-examine all the evidence and argue about whose fault it is that I never got a trial before," Sirius interrupted. "Hell no. They don't need me for that. Harry does."

He looked at Remus although daring him to argue, but Remus just smiled. "I couldn't agree more. Come on, I've got Firewhiskey waiting." He paused. "Perhaps a bath first though."

Sirius barked a laugh, and Remus' smile widened as the world seemed to settle back into place. They would find Harry. Merlin help anyone who got in their way.

Chapter Text

A stuffed head went flying through the air, and Cedric lowered his aching arms.

"All right," he gasped. "That's enough for now."

Harry nodded equally breathlessly, and set his own sword down to go and retrieve his knives. There was a deep scowl on his face. "I am so out of shape."

A house-elf appeared with a jug of water and glasses, and vanished before Cedric could do more than nod at them. He poured himself a drink, and handed another to Harry. "You're nine," he said. "No one's expecting you to be in shape."

Harry's scowl deepened. Cedric couldn't exactly blame him. He used to be able to fight for hours, and now a short spar was enough to leave him out of breath. He put that thought from his mind with a shake of his head. Times had changed, and they were in perfectly adequate condition for their age. They had time to get stronger.

Harry still looked furious with himself, and Cedric bit back a sigh with an effort. Salazar had always expected too much of himself. This time though, Cedric suspected that more than his physical capabilities were bothering him.

"You'll hear from Remus soon."

Harry went perfectly still. Cedric set his glass aside to squeeze his shoulder. "You will," he repeated. "They care about you."

"You don't know that," Harry muttered, but he leaned into Cedric's touch. "They might have more important things to worry about. Black has been in Azkaban for years, he's going to need a long time to recover, and they're good friends so he'll need Lupin to help him..."

"Harry," Cedric interrupted gently. "Please. They will be glad to hear from you. I know it."

Harry's face clearly betrayed his skepticism, but he said nothing. Cedric glanced at the clock and sighed. He would have to come back to this later. "I'm sorry, but I need to go. I need to talk to the twins at breakfast."

He had spent the night thinking about what Percy had said, and had come to the inescapable conclusion that the older boy was right. Fred and George deserved an apology, if not an explanation. It wasn't their fault that Cedric was still working out how to balance his past and present lives.

Harry just nodded. "It's about time." He hesitated, eyes dropping to his knives with studied fascination. "I promise I'll be better about it this time."

Cedric crossed the distance in two quick strides and drew him into a hug. "We'll both be better," he corrected.

Harry didn't even pretend to fight against his grip. Cedric took a deep breath, letting his friend's presence soothe his nerves, and finally straightened. Before he could move away though, Harry caught his shoulder.

"Fred and George will understand," he said softly. "They've known you for years. You'd have to do more than avoid them for a few weeks for anyone to give up on you."

Warmth flooded Cedric's chest. He didn't have the words, but Harry's face twitched into the soft, genuine smile that only a few ever had the privilege of seeing, and Cedric knew he understood. Harry nudged him. "Go on. You're supposed to be the brave one here."

"Thanks," said Cedric dryly. "I'll see you later."

"This evening," Harry clarified. "You need to spend lunch with people your own age." His green eyes glinted mischievously. "All you old people need to stick together."

"Cheeky sod," said Cedric, through a laugh.

He was still smiling when he entered the Great Hall. For all that Godric had made it his mission to keep Salazar from the darkness, Salazar had been just as determined to look after Godric. It was good to know that nothing had changed.

For now though, Cedric had other friendships to work on. He saw two heads of bright red hair bent together at the far end of the table, and redirected his steps. A couple of his Hufflepuff classmates called out greetings, but while Cedric waved back he kept on track. He could catch up with his housemates after he had fixed things with Fred and George.

George was the first to notice him, and nudged his twin, but neither said anything. Cedric came to a stop opposite them.

"Good morning."

Fred scowled. "Sorry, do we know you?"

That was fair enough. Cedric sighed. "I'm sorry. Can we talk?"

The twins exchanged a look, then George's frown relaxed ever so slightly and he kicked the bench out. "It's about time."

It was more of an opening than Cedric had expected. He sat down, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've been so distant," he began, but that was as far as he got before a snort interrupted.

"You've not been distant," Fred snapped. "You've been avoiding us."

Cedric bit his lip. "I had some stuff to deal with. Stuff I had to deal with on my own." He looked down. "I know I should have been more open about it, and avoiding you both wasn't the right way to deal with it-"

"Of course it wasn't," George interrupted. "If you were having problems then we would have helped!"

Fred was nodding. "You should have just talked to us."

"I know," said Cedric. "And next time I will."

The twins exchanged one of their long, inscrutable looks, but just as Cedric was starting to get restless their faces split into identical grins. "Okay then."

Cedric blinked. "I'm sorry?"

He was used to apologies being a lot more complicated than that. Rowena was prickly, Salazar could be an absolute nightmare, and even Helga knew how to hold a grudge. There was always a fair amount of debate required for anything beyond a minor dispute.

But maybe he shouldn't be surprised. They were talking about eleven year old Weasleys, Weasleys that Cedric had known for most of his life. Maybe things didn't always have to be complicated. Fred rolled his eyes.

"You were a git, you know it, you're not going to do it again, we're all good."

"Anyway," said George. "We've got bigger problems, and you're just the wizard we've been looking for."

Cedric frowned at the pair of them. "What's going on?"

The twins exchanged another look. Fred looked one way, George the other, then both of them leaned in towards Cedric, grins nowhere in sight. "We need to do something about Snape," said Fred.

Cedric blinked, then nodded. "He has been a bit harsh lately."

The twins snorted, and Cedric grimaced at his own words. Harsh was the understatement of the century. Snape had always been unnecessarily sharp, but over the last week or so he had become downright brutal. Potions was becoming universally hated amongst the student population; Cedric's fellow Hufflepuffs dreaded Snape's classes, and he had heard even sixth and seventh year students stressing out about Potions in the Common Room.

"He made Alicia cry the other day," said George. There was no trace of his usual good humour to be seen in his face. He nodded down the table to where a group of first years were huddled over homework. "She didn't do anything wrong, she was just smiling, and he went mental. It's not right."

"Percy's complained to McGonagall," Fred growled. "So did Charlie, and the other prefects, and no one's doing anything! So we're going to instead."

Cedric sat back and looked at them. He recognised the set of their jaws, and the gleam in their eyes. They were going to do this with or without him.

Godric had spent his life fighting people who hurt others. Cedric couldn't do that yet, but he was very capable of helping his friends mess with a bully. He smiled at the twins.

"What did you have in mind?"

Harry didn't even try to stay in the Room of Requirement. He didn't have the fresh ingredients he needed to make really interesting potions, and digging through piles of rubbish wouldn't be enough to distract him. For a moment he considered taking one of the new school brooms for a test flight, but reluctantly dismissed that idea, at least until later that night.

Physical activity was good though. Cedric's words from the morning rang in Harry's ears as he slipped the best of the knives into his robes, but he squashed them down. He wasn't going to over-exert himself, but a change of scenery would do him good. Avoiding attention, and anything that wanted to eat him, while training would just make things more interesting.

Anything to stop himself from dwelling on the letter he had sent.

Getting out of the castle was insultingly easy. If not for his unique skill set, Harry would be seriously worried about their students. He was annoyed to find that the tunnel that came out closest to the Forbidden Forest had collapsed at some point in the last centuries, but at least it would give him and Godric something to do if they ever got bored. Not today though. Harry had a desperate need to throw sharp things around.

A Disillusionment spell got him safely to the forest, but Harry found himself pausing as he stepped beneath the trees. The forest had always been dangerous, they had placed it out of bounds for a reason, but now it felt different. There was a darkness here that he hadn't felt before. He reached for his wand, and grabbed a knife in his other hand. For a moment he reconsidered this plan, but stubbornness kept him in place. There was no concrete danger, and he could Apparate back to the castle whenever he wished.

Well, he had wished for a good distraction.

Mind made up, Harry started to make his way deeper into the forest. He kept his wand in his hand and his senses stretched as far as he could manage, but he found himself missing the further reach of the wards. They really had degenerated terribly over the years. As soon as he was stronger, and he had a properly matched wand, he was doing something about that.

Harry finally came to a halt in a small clearing about half an hour's walk from the castle. It was far enough that he shouldn't be disturbed by anyone from the castle, but not deep enough in for the Dark creatures Harry knew lurked in the forest to be disturbed by him. He swapped his wand for another knife, took a deep breath, and sprang into action.

Remus had always prided himself on the speed of his reading. He might not have had the raw genius of James and Sirius, but he had gone through books the way his friends went through Chocolate Frogs. By the time he got to seventh year Madame Pince had actually stopped glaring whenever he visited the library.

He had been staring at the letter in his hand for most of the morning.

Remus Lupin,

My name is Harry Potter. I've heard that you were friends with both my father and Sirius Black. Sirius Black, who I've just found out is my godfather.

If this is the case, then I want to know why he spent eight years in Azkaban for a crime that he may not have committed, leaving me stuck with my Muggle relatives.

I should say at this point that I am no longer living with the Dursleys. They didn't love, like, or want me, and so I left. You don't need to worry about me, I'm in a safe place, but I am not going back there. All I want now is to understand why all this happened.

I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this letter. I am not going back to the Dursleys.

Harry Potter

Remus didn't know what to think. He had spent so many weeks going out of his mind looking for Harry, spent so many sleepless nights imagining what could happen to a lost child, let alone the Boy Who Lived...

He was barely aware of the door being thrown open and slammed shut, but Sirius' strident tones were impossible to ignore.

"Hallo, Moony! I found these in the corner shop. Not Firewhiskey, of course, but it'll smooth the way-"

"Sirius!"

Remus didn't often raise his voice. There was a crash of cider bottles being dropped, and the alacrity with which Sirius appeared would have been gratifying on any other day. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, eyes flashing with worry in his gaunt face.

"Remus, what-"

"Read it," Remus growled.

He thrust the letter into Sirius' hands, and stalked to the window. He had to get control over his emotions. If he couldn't then Sirius...

"What the fuck?"

Remus' hands clenched on the windowsill. He could feel the wood splintering under his grip, but even over the blood pounding in his ears he could hear Sirius' voice growing louder and more strident.

"He left? He ran away? He's nine, where the fuck could he have gone? We have to find him Moony-"

"We're going to," Remus bit out, but Sirius was still in full swing.

"He says he's safe, but how can we know that?" He was stalking up and down the room now, kicking aside any chairs unfortunate enough to be in his path. "He must be somewhere in the magical world if he knows what's going on with me-"

"Except there's a serious problem with that," said Remus quietly. "Harry doesn't know anything about magic."

Petunia had admitted to keeping his heritage a secret from him. In any other circumstances Remus would have had something to say about that. Sirius spun back, eyes blazing, then his cheeks flushed as he understood.

"Why was he left with those bastards in the first place?"

"Someone," Remus bit out, "thought it was a good idea." He looked up, and from the way Sirius' eyes widened guessed that the wolf was showing. "And there's only one person with that kind of faith in people."

Sirius went perfectly still, and then it wasn't just Remus' magic filling the air. His hands clenched into fists. "Dumbledore."

It came out more as a growl than any human noise. Not that Remus was one to talk. He thought of Dumbledore leaving Harry alone with Petunia, a family who hated him so much that he had run away from home, and his vision went red. He doubled over, years of self-control warring with pure rage, and couldn't suppress an incoherent snarl.

"Remus?"

The back of the chair split under Remus' grip. Splinters dug into his fingers, and the sharp stinging was enough to break him from his haze. Anger wasn't doing them any good here.

"Sorry," he managed. "I'm fine."

"I'm not," Sirius shot back. "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking?"

Hearing the Headmaster's name made Remus want to break another chair, but he forced the impulse down. "We've got to stop this," he forced out. "Getting angry isn't going to help Harry."

Sirius' aura of murder faded slightly, but he was still fuming. "I know, but how could he leave him with that old hag? No, fuck it, that's an insult to hags!" He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. His cheeks were still flushed, but even as he looked down at the crumpled letter in his hand his scowl faltered.

"Fine. You're right. But they're going to pay for what they did. And someone's going to answer for Harry being there."

Remus nodded curtly. He was hardly going to argue with that. Sirius took a deep breath, and smoothed the letter out.

"So if Harry doesn't know about magic, then how did he write this?"

There was a long silence. The air was still charged with magic and emotion and it was suffocating. Remus kept thinking about Harry, had to keep thinking about Harry to keep rage from overwhelming him, but that only led to more questions. He rubbed a shaking hand over his eyes.

"He could have found some of Lily's old things," he began, but Sirius was already shaking his head.

"You think Dursley would leave anything like that in the house? No, someone must have gotten to him."

Remus eyed him. "Sirius..."

"A Death Eater," Sirius growled. The crazed light was back in his eyes. "One of those scumbags must have found out where he was staying, they got into his head, they took him-"

"Sirius," said Remus sharply. "We don't know that."

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know!"

That admission left the two of them staring at each other, until Remus finally looked away. "He says that he's safe. And he wants to know the truth about you. I think that's a good sign."

Sirius cocked his head to one side. "Death Eaters would know that I wasn't one of them," he said. "But they haven't told Harry. They must still be working on him."

Remus raised his eyes to the ceiling. Azkaban had done nothing for his friend's ability to leap to conclusions. Or to think rationally. "Why don't we assume, for now, that Harry is, as he has said, safe and well and not under Death Eater influence? I'm not saying we just leave it," he added, when Sirius opened his mouth, "but we shouldn't jump to the worst conclusions with no evidence."

Sirius snorted. "Why not? Everyone else does." He folded his arms, scowl deepening. "So what do you propose we do?"

Remus gave him a grim smile. "What do you think? We write back."

It was only when he missed his target completely that Harry finally came to a halt. It was far sooner than he had planned, but he was shaking with exhaustion and he had to sit down before his knees buckled. Maybe he had pushed himself too far. Not that he would ever admit it to Cedric. He sagged back against a tree trunk, throat burning as he sucked in breath. Next time he would have to bring water. And think everything through a bit better.

Harry let his head fall back against the tree with a thud. Physical exhaustion lent a curious mental clarity. He didn't have the energy left to worry about what Lupin and Black thought of him. He had done what he could, just as he was doing everything he could to get into fighting shape. That would have to be enough.

Harry took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his feet. Everything ached, and his throat was dry and scratchy, but he felt better. He would be doing this again, albeit with a little more planning. Maybe he would bring Cedric with him too next time. His senses prickled, and Harry shivered. Bringing Cedric was sounding like an increasingly good idea. There was something in the forest, something Harry had never experienced before, and he didn't think he wanted to meet it alone.

That thought was enough to have Harry moving back towards the castle as fast as he could manage. He wasn't scared exactly, but he wasn't in any condition for a proper fight.

Fortunately, Harry arrived back at Hogwarts without further incident. Unfortunately, his journey to the kitchens was interrupted by a commotion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ducked into one of the secret passages to get a better viewpoint, wary of the number of students gathering, but the screeched insults that came to his ears froze him in place.

"-slimy Slytherin scum!"

Harry's heart dropped into his stomach, but the Slytherins were already on the offensive, "Look at that, more Gryffindors who can't tell us apart."

"What's to tell? You're all Muggle-born hating gits! Gonna join your dad in Azkaban, Travers?"

"Don't talk down to me you arrogant Mud-"

"Rictasempra!"

The slur was lost in a burst of forced laughter, and any further comment was drowned out by the sound of more hexes being thrown. Feeling sick to his stomach, Harry sagged against the wall.

He had known things at Hogwarts were bad. He had heard as much wandering the castle, and Godric had confirmed it, but to hear the hatred in the students' voices, their inability to see the other as anything more than a mortal enemy...

This wasn't what they had wanted. Hogwarts was a sanctuary, a family, somewhere people could come and be themselves and feel safe. This wasn't that. Hogwarts was divided, at war within itself, and if children couldn't contain their hatred then Harry dreaded to think of what the rest of the wizarding world must be like.

After a minute's stewing, Harry risked a glance out the passage. Teachers had arrived to break up the fight and the crowds were already dissipating, but one lingered. Cedric was staring after the two culprits as Flitwick led them away, and the expression on his face made him look far older than his years. One of his friends called and he turned away, determination smoothing into an age-appropriate grin, but Harry had seen it and his own resolve hardened.

They would fix this. They had to.

Chapter Text

Cedric shook his head, and grabbed the scrap of parchment.

"No no, a potion wouldn't be any good. He's a Potions Master, if he's going to be on guard for anything it's that, and he'd probably be able to taste anything different straight away."

George's eyebrows shot up. "You think he can do that?"

Cedric, who had watched Salazar identify minuscule amounts of poison hidden in even the strongest wines, nodded. "No point risking it, is there?"

"It would be a waste if he realised straight away," Fred agreed ruefully. "Shame, we found some great stuff in Bill's old books."

Cedric shook his head. For all that the twins didn't seem to give a toss about their classes they didn't express even the slightest uncertainty about attempting advanced level potions. He couldn't wait to introduce them to Harry properly.

"Keep those in reserve," he said. "Snape isn't the only one we might need to go after."

The confrontation he had witnessed in the Entrance Hall was still fresh in his mind. It was deplorable behaviour from all involved, and Cedric had a strong suspicion that more than a few students would need a little extra incentive to change their ways. At least they would be easier to get to than Snape.

In the meantime, Snape was still a problem. George scratched the back of his head with his quill.

"Getting to him at all is gonna be the tricky bit," he said. "You know what he's like in class, he sees everything."

Fred scowled. "We're going to need a distraction. A big one."

"That's easy enough," said Cedric. If nothing else he knew how to cause chaos. He could be sneaky when he needed to be, long association with Salazar had taught him that much, but big and loud was much more in character for an eleven year old. The twins were no slouch in that department either. "We need to think of something to actually do."

"Something embarrassing," said Fred fiercely. "Something that'll make him feel as rubbish as he made Alicia feel."

George was nodding. "Something that will show everyone just what a colossal git he is."

Inspiration struck. "Why don't we do just that?"

The twins exchanged a long look, then cocked their heads in unison. "'I am a colossal git'," said Fred, rolling the words around in his mouth. "That has a nice ring to it."

"Not that everyone doesn't already know, but they should at least be able to see him coming," George agreed. "Bit of colour would make a change."

Fred had snatched the parchment back and was scribbling away. "Can't forget the glitter. Wonder if we can add sound effects?"

Cedric had to laugh at the image. When it came to causing mischief, the twins were in a league of their own. "I'll look into it. I know a few older students, and people will be less suspicious of me asking than you two."

Fred and George snorted in unison. "Yeah, make the most of that while you can," said Fred. "They'll soon see your true colours."

Cedric certainly hoped not, but he kept smiling. "Dunno what you're talking about." He glanced at his watch. "Speaking of which, I should go. It's group study night with the sixth year prefects tonight, and I want to check some Transfiguration stuff with them."

George raised an eyebrow. "Would this be the third year Transfiguration that McGonagall gave you 'cause you'd finished everything else?"

"How-"

"We overheard her gloating about you in the staff room," said Fred, with a wicked grin. "I reckon she's gonna propose soon."

Cedric's cheeks burned, and he kicked at Fred's chair. "Shut up. She's a good teacher."

"Yeah, yeah, we know. Just saying, we're not the only ones who wish you were in Gryffindor."

Cedric smiled. At times he missed his house, but every time he saw how surprised people were when they realised he was a Hufflepuff he knew he had made the right choice. He was where he was needed. He pushed himself up, and nodded to the twins.

"Well, I'm happy where I am. And I've got Tonks in my house, and if anyone knows how to really annoy Snape it'll be her."

Both Fred and George lit up at the thought. Cedric started to leave, then paused. "Has Percy found Scabbers yet, by the way?"

George shook his head, smile fading. "No sign of him. It's really weird. He was fine last year, and first year."

"Percy's pretty upset about it," said Fred. "We've even stopped teasing him about it."

Cedric sighed. "Sorry to hear that. I'll keep an eye out."

He might be just a rat, but Percy really cared about him, and the rest of the Weasleys would miss him too. It was a pity Hogwarts wasn't actually omniscient. They would just have to keep an eye out. Cedric shook himself, waved goodbye to his friends, and headed back out into the school.

Alastor had rolled his eyes so many times in the last hour that he was giving himself eye strain. For a wanted man, Black was doing a terrible job of staying out of sight. Alastor had arrived intending to quiz Lupin on Black's whereabouts, but after seeing the man stroll out of the door bold as brass he had decided a sharp warning was in order.

After all, not all Aurors would be content with a friendly chat with a wanted criminal.

If he was being honest with himself, Alastor would rather hand Black over to the Ministry himself. Enough evidence, and public outcry, had arisen to get him a trial, and Alastor was confident that Black would be acquitted.

But there was the matter of Harry Potter. If his disappearance was what had inspired Black's breakout, and Alastor couldn't think of anything else that would inspire such a reckless action, then his own freedom would be the last thing on Black's mind. Talking to him before contacting the Ministry was the least Alastor could do.

Off-tune whistling announced Black's return. Alastor checked the surroundings out of habit, but kept his normal eye focused on Black. The man still looked terrible, not that Alastor was really one to talk, but he had put on a little weight and his hair had been trimmed to fall about his shoulders. Living with Lupin had done some good, even if the two of them were still idiots.

Alastor gave them another couple of minutes to get comfortable, then stomped across the road. He released his wand from its holster and flicked it at the door, which promptly exploded inwards. Startled shouts met his ears, and he allowed himself a grin before raising his wand.

For all that neither of them had seen combat in years, Lupin and Black both reacted promptly. That wasn't good enough. Two Full-Body Bind curses hit their targets, two wands flew to Alastor's hand, and two bodies hit the floor with a crash. Alastor stomped over to glower down at them.

"Constant vigilance!"

If looks could kill, Black would have accomplished what many Death Eaters had tried and failed to do. Lupin looked equally outraged, but when Alastor relaxed the spell enough for them to speak he held his tongue.

"What the hell, Moody?" Black demanded. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"Try the opposite," Alastor growled. He released the pair of them with a wave of his hand and folded his arms. "For an escaped convict, you're terrible fugitive."

Black staggered to his feet. "No wonder they call you Mad-Eye now," he growled. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"Don't you know that wanted men don't go wandering around Birmingham?" Alastor shot back. "I thought you at least had more sense," he added, switching his glare to Lupin, who had the grace to look slightly abashed, but it was Black who snorted.

"Sit in a cell for eight years and then see how much you want to stay inside."

Alastor rolled both eyes as far as they would go, which was considerable. Azkaban had done nothing for Black's self-control. Lupin somehow managed to stamp on his foot while maintaining an expression of perfect apologetic innocence.

"We will be more careful," he said, over Black's splutters.

"No one noticed," Black muttered. "You're just paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if it's justified," Alastor snapped. "If I can notice, then Death Eaters can too, and they won't restrict themselves to Body-Bind Curses. You've got to get a grip."

Black's eyes flashed, but a warning look from Lupin kept him quiet. Lupin turned back to Alastor. "Can we assume, from the lack of any other Aurors, that you are not going to be turning us in?"

Black's hand twitched in the way that would have made any Auror jumpy, and Alastor tightened his grip on their wands. "No," he said curtly. He hesitated, but he needed their assistance and he wasn't going to get that without some display of trust. He set the wands on the table, and nodded approvingly when both wizards summoned them without taking their eyes from him.

"Why not?" Black asked. "What do you want?"

"The same thing you do," said Alastor quietly.

He didn't need to say anything else. Both Lupin and Black tensed, and exchanged a series of increasingly complicated looks before Alastor snapped his fingers in front of them.

"Yes, I'm talking about Potter," he growled. "Far as I can tell, he's the only reason you wouldn't wait for us to go through the proper channels."

Black glared at him. "Of course I couldn't wait, Harry's gone! He could be anywhere, anyone could have him-"

"Sirius," said Lupin. "Stop it. We're going to find him."

Alastor studied them. Black was beginning to look as crazed as he had in Azkaban. Lupin was steadier, but there was something in his eyes, a sharpness to his movements that made all of Alastor's instincts flare.

"You know something," he said.

Black flinched, but Lupin's eyes narrowed. Neither of them spoke, and Alastor's own irritation spiked. He folded his arms, and focused both eyes on the pair of them. "You're both terrible at hiding things," he said flatly. "Remember that there is a child's safety at stake, and tell me what you know."

"And then you finish with a a flick to the side, like this."

Aldane Summerby looked doubtful, but he watched Cedric's movements closely. The fireplace burst into flame, and Cedric let it burn for a minute before extinguishing it. "Go on, give it a try."

Al half-heartedly copied the action, and Cedric wasn't surprised when nothing happened. He nudged his friend. "It's not gonna work if you give up before you start."

"Easy for you to say," Al muttered. "You're great at this. You're great at everything."

Cedric bit his lip. He could hardly say that he had a full lifetime of experience behind him. He scratched his head. "No I'm not, I just like Charms. You'll get it, I know you will. Just try it one more time."

Al sighed, but raised his wand again. He opened his mouth, and Cedric quickly added, "And this time, really believe you can do it. Think of the best fire you've ever seen, think of how it feels and smells, concentrate just on that, and then breathe it out."

Al eyes him, then closed his eyes. He was silent for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration, and he took a deep breath. "Incendio."

Sparks shot from the tip of his wand, and flames burst into life. Cedric let out a delighted laugh and clapped him on the back. "See? I knew you could do it!"

Al stared at the flames, then at Cedric, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. "I did it."

In the warmth of the fire and Al's achievement, Cedric let his worries about Harry and the twins and Snape fall away. This was the moment he had loved most when teaching, and he had missed it. "That was great," he said. "You just need to have more confidence in yourself."

Al ducked his head. "I guess so. Thanks, Ced." He looked back at the fire, and shook his head. "I can't wait to show this to my cousins. They don't start school 'til next year, and they're gonna be so jealous."

Cedric laughed. "Probably. Are you seeing them over the holidays then?"

"Yep," said Al, with a nod. "We're all heading back to Trinidad for Christmas. It's going to be great, even if there's no snow there." He glanced back at Cedric. "What about you? Are you going home for Christmas?"

Cedric opened his mouth, then hesitated. As much as he wanted to see his family, leaving Hogwarts meant leaving Harry to yet another lonely Christmas. He couldn't do that, but his parents would want to see him, and he didn't have any good reasons to stay at Hogwarts...

"Cedric? Are you okay?"

Cedric shook himself, and summoned back his grin. "Yeah, course. Just started thinking about Christmas dinners. I've missed Dad's cooking."

Al hummed. "Tell me about it. The house-elves are great, but I don't think they've ever heard of doubles." At Cedric's confusion he waved a hand. "I'll ask Mum to send some. And some chutney. Maybe some kachori too." He turned mournful eyes on Cedric. "It's been months. I miss home cooking."

Cedric studied him. Al had always been quiet, but Cedric hadn't realised he was homesick. He should have known better. He had always been better at looking after his students before. Being distracted by Harry and the twins was no excuse.

"You'll be back in a couple of weeks," he said. "Have you been writing to them?"

The flames were dying in the grate as Al shrugged. "Yeah, but it's not the same. I just, I haven't been away from home for this long before."

Cedric chewed on his lip for a moment, but before he could say anything Al shook his head. "But I'll be seeing them soon, and it'll probably get better. Anyway, thanks for your help, Cedric."

There was an uncomfortable feeling in Cedric's stomach as he watched watched Al gather up his books and vanish down the passage to the dormitories. He should be better than this. He was one of the Founders of Hogwarts, and being a student himself didn't mean he could ignore his responsibilities. He would have to do more.

"You did well there."

Cedric looked up in time for Tonks to drop onto the sofa next to him. Her hair was bright turquoise today and tumbled down her back in messy curls. Cedric rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't really do anything."

"Don't sell yourself short," said Tonks. "Teaching is way harder than doing it yourself, and I've done enough tutoring to know that for certain." She cocked her head to one side. "You seem to have a knack for it though. Have you ever considered teaching?"

Cedric couldn't help smiling. "A bit. It's really nice seeing other people get it."

Tonks grinned back. "I know what you mean. If I hadn't got the Herbology grades for the Aurors then I was thinking about it myself."

"You're applying for the Aurors?"

Cedric didn't know why he was so surprised. Then again, the whole concept of having a branch of the government dedicated to defending people was still something of a novelty. He thought about it a bit more and nodded. "Being a Metamorphagus won't hurt your chances."

"Definitely not," Tonks agreed, and there was a flicker of approval in her voice s she looked at him. "Most people have said I'm crazy for going for it."

"Some people say the same thing about wanting to teach," said Cedric with a grin. He opened his mouth to start to lead into the spells he'd need to teach Snape, but then he caught a glimpse of the clock and had to abruptly change track. "Um, I need to meet someone, but are you busy over the weekend? I've got a couple of questions about stuff."

Tonks' eyebrows shot up. "Have they given you third year work to do or something? 'Cause I can't imagine you needing help with anything below that."

Cedric hesitated, but she was going to find out sooner or later. "No, it's not for school. It's for a project. With Fred and George."

Tonks' eyes lit up. "Say no more. I've got a study group in the morning, but grab me after lunch on Saturday, okay?"

"Perfect. Thanks, Tonks."

"Any time. Don't do anything I wouldn't do til then!"

Cedric laughed, and darted out of the Common Room before Gabriel Truman could notice him. It was technically before curfew, but the prefects were protective of the first years. He had to dodge a few more of them on the way to the seventh floor, but that was something he could do in his sleep.

It wasn't enough of a challenge to keep his mind from drifting. He had no idea what he was going to do about Harry over Christmas, he had Snape to deal with, he was still furious with himself for not noticing that Al was struggling, and they still hadn't heard anything from Lupin and Black...

Harry took one look at him and shook his head.

"What's the matter now?"

"Nothing," said Cedric automatically, then winced when Harry's eyes narrowed. "Everything's fine, I promise."

"If that's true, then you wouldn't look that stressed," Harry shot back. He set his book aside, and crossed the room to take Cedric's shoulders. "Let me help."

Godric had never been able to keep anything from Salazar. Nothing had changed. "It's nothing important," he mumbled.

"If it's worrying you, then it's important."

Cedric hesitated, but he knew better than to assume Harry would drop the subject. He settled on the first topic that came to mind. "It's one of my housemates," he said. "He's been getting really homesick."

Harry cocked his head to one side. "Understandable, but I don't see why-"

"I should have noticed, and helped him out!"

"You did notice," said Harry dryly.

"Only when he came out and told me!" He broke away from Harry's grip and started pacing. "What kind of teacher doesn't recognise when one of their students is that miserable?"

"The kind that is an eleven year old student himself."

Cedric opened his mouth, but Harry didn't give him a chance to say anything, "You're not a teacher, Cedric. You're not even an adult. You're a first year student, and you're already dealing with more than any of them realise."

That was true, but it also didn't change anything. Once again though, Harry got there first, "And if I'm not allowed to take responsibility for what Dark wizards have done in my name then you aren't allowed to take personal responsibility for every child in this school. At least not yet." He caught Cedric's arm, green eyes softening. "You're only a child yourself. You can't keep going like this."

Cedric wanted to argue. He wasn't only a child, he was one of the reincarnated Founders of Hogwarts. He should be better than this.

And yet, Cedric couldn't deny that he was exhausted. Juggling his new life, Harry, and maintaining his secrets had been difficult. Adding anything else would be a lot. Godric had never been one to shy away from a challenge, but there was only so much one person could do, and no matter how much he knew there was a limit to what an eleven year body could handle.

Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Harry gave him a small smile.

"We will make things better," he said. "But we will do it together. I promise."

Cedric said nothing, but allowed himself to be guided over to the sofa. "All right. I'll try to remember. But there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Harry nodded, then paused, eyes narrowing. "Would this have anything to do with the fact that the holidays start in three weeks?"

"How did you-"

"You're not the only person I talk to, you know. I think Helena's learned the school sessions by now."

Cedric snorted. "I should think so." He hesitated, amusement fading. "Harry-"

"You need to go back to your parents."

Cedric stared at him, but Harry met his gaze steadily. "It's too early to make them suspicious. I can't go there, even under a false name it would make things complicated later on. I'll be fine, it's not like I've ever done much for Christmas."

"We used to," said Cedric quietly. They hadn't had many traditions, but they were cherished ones and he had missed them.

Harry's smile faltered for a split-second before he shook his head. "One day. When Helga and Rowena are here, and I've 'reappeared'. We can work something out then. For now..."

His words made sense, but Cedric hated it. Harry deserved a decent Christmas. There had to be something he could do...

"Anyway, I can give you your present before you go."

Cedric blinked, then smiled. "It won't be the same, but fine. But we will have a proper Christmas as soon as we can."

Harry just leaned into him a little. Cedric wrapped an arm around him, his heart feeling slightly lighter. Salazar had always been good at putting things into perspective for him. He glanced round the room, lingering on the pile of things Harry had deemed useful. It was considerably larger than it had been that morning, and Cedric frowned at it.

"Nothing from Lupin then?"

Harry stiffened slightly, and he gave a half-hearted shrug. "If I got a letter like that I'd want to think about it too."

Cedric just hugged him tighter. Harry didn't make a single noise of protest. Knowing it was time to change the subject, Cedric settled on something a bit lighter.

"Snape is still being a pain in the neck. I've been talking with the twins, but if you've got any ideas..."

He refused to flinch when an unholy gleam lit Harry's eyes. Salazar had never tolerated cruelty to children, especially coming from someone who was supposed to be protecting them. That person also being the head of Slytherin only added fuel to the fire.

"I could fill his office with acid," Harry mused. "Guaranteed to eat through his furnishings, and resist basic and advanced cleaning charms for at least a week. I can even make it smell like dragon dung."

Cedric smothered a laugh with a cough. "Just his office?"

"I'm not going to subject our students to that," said Harry indignantly. "Leave his classroom out of whatever you're planning."

"I don't know, a couple of days off from lessons won't do anyone any harm. Honestly, we could use a break."

He meant it. Half his housemates were on the brink of a nervous collapse, and Snape's temper was only going to get worse after they started their campaign. A few days break would do everyone good. Harry hesitated, scowl slipping into understanding.

"I suppose some of it could get in the classroom," he said. "But not while there are students there."

Cedric just about resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course not."

Harry nodded, and continued to mumble increasingly unpleasant potion effects under his breath. Cedric leaned back on the sofa. He might have unleashed a monster, but it was better than thinking about Lupin and Black.

Alastor hadn't moved since reading Harry's letter. Even his magical eye was fixed on the piece of parchment. He also hadn't said a word, and Remus' anxiety was rising with every passing minute.

He didn't know what he would do if Alastor decided to interfere. The old Auror was brilliant, and had already demonstrated the ability to withstand both Remus and Sirius. If he did decide to go to the Aurors, or Dumbledore, then their chances of stopping him were slim to none.

But that wouldn't stop them from trying. Harry had reached out to them, and only them, and Remus would die before betraying that trust. Sirius was a coiled spring next to him, his magic humming in the air, and Remus could smell his rising agitation. Alastor had fought alongside them during the war, had saved both their lives, but Harry was family. Harry came first.

Alastor huffed out a sigh, and Remus' grip tightened on his wand. The magical eye spun round to glare at them.

"You two don't do things by halves."

Remus didn't move. Alastor's voice gave nothing away, and his scarred face was impossible to read. Sirius let out a low growl.

"Harry's in trouble, damn it!" he snarled. "Are you going to help us or go running back to Dumbledore?"

"Sirius," Remus hissed. There was nothing to be gained from antagonising an Auror. Both of Alastor's eyes were locked on Sirius now.

"Watch your mouth, lad," he growled. "If I didn't care about the boy you'd be in front of Amelia Bones right now."

Sirius' breath hitched, and Remus caught his arm before he could do something stupid. He ignored the betrayed look that earned him, and focused on Alastor. "Does that mean you're not going to tell them?"

Alastor gave a low, rumbling sigh. "I should. The more of us working on this, the better." Sirius twitched, but Alastor silenced him with a scowl, "And more of us will put Potter in danger. It's a miracle the news isn't out already."

"What are you suggesting?" said Remus quietly.

Alastor didn't reply straight away. His magical eye spun back to the letter in his hand. "Do you think this is genuine?"

Remus' heart skipped a beat. "I think so. Petunia... Well, I wouldn't blame him for running."

"I still think it's a Death Eater trick," Sirius muttered.

"We've already talked about why that makes sense," Remus shot back, without looking at him. "I think it's real," he continued, keeping his eyes on Alastor. "I don't know where he is, or how he got away, but the only way we're going to find out is by making him trust us."

"And you're not going to manage that with the Aurors involved," Alastor finished.

Remus just nodded. Sirius was still fuming next to him, but it was silent sulking and Remus would take it. Their immediate priority was keeping Harry's contact secret. They could argue about the rest later.

Finally, after several long minutes, Alastor shook his head.

"Albus isn't going to like it."

"Serves him right," Sirius growled.

Alastor snorted, and refocused on Remus. "Keep me informed. And be careful."

Remus closed his eyes in relief. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Chapter Text

Harry stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He had given in to the demands of the season and was wrapped in two of the warmest and least moth-eaten cloaks he could find in the Room, but the Scottish winds still left his teeth chattering. He took a moment to erase the last of the tracks he had left in the snow, squared his shoulders, and set off into the trees.

Ten minutes in, Harry suspected that he had made a mistake. The same feeling of menace that had dogged his earlier visit was back. All Harry's instincts urged him to turn back, to get to Cedric, to get somewhere safe, but the moment he thought of that the ever-burning resentment flared up brighter than ever.

Lupin and Black should have written back by now. It had been nearly two weeks. It didn't take that long to write one letter. Basic etiquette hadn't changed that much. They should have written back.

Part of Harry's mind, the part that his old masters had created and the Dursleys had nourished, asked why would they want to? They had their own lives, and Black certainly had his own problems. Harry knew Dementors, and he could hardly blame Black for not feeling able to deal with his dead friend's son.

He still could have written.

Harry kicked a frozen branch out of the way with a scowl. Stewing inside the castle had been unbearable, but the cold wasn't doing much for his mood either. What he really wanted to do was fly, but he would be far too conspicuous in the daylight. Exploring the forest, and trying to work out exactly what was wrong, was the next best option.

He hadn't told Cedric. They had planned to do this together. With the wards in the state they were, if there was something dangerous in the forest then they needed to identify and neutralise it as soon as possible, and considering neither of them were older than thirteen trying to do it alone would be completely stupid.

Harry wasn't stupid, but he did need to do something. If nothing else, a little reconnaissance couldn't hurt.

Snow crunched behind him and Harry spun round, wand raised, only to freeze in place.

"Peace, young one. We mean you no harm."

Harry relaxed immediately, pocketing his wand and bowing low. "Forgive me. I did not know that I was trespassing on your lands."

The larger of the two centaurs snorted, one hoof pawing the ground, but the one who had spoken continued to watch him. Her grey eyes, the same shade as her hair, were completely unreadable. "You should not be here."

Her words resonated on so many levels that Harry had to take a moment to respond. "I apologise. I...I felt something." He shook his head. "I will not trouble you again."

"Good," the black-haired centaur rumbled, but the other held up a hand.

"Enough, Bane. There is more at stake here then some petty trespasses." The corner of her mouth twitched. "We have a distinguished visitor with us after all."

Harry's heartrate tripled. "I-I'm just a student," he began, but the words trailed off when the centaur raised an eyebrow.

"You are not."

Harry swallowed. The centaurs of his time had always known far more than they should, and said even less. It seemed that nothing had changed. He knew better than to try to lie, and instead changed the subject, "There is something else in here. I felt it. Do you know what it is?"

"That is none of your concern," Bane snapped. He drew closer to the female centaur. "This is a waste of time."

Harry tried not to bristle. "I know there's something dangerous in here."

"That is why they call it the Forbidden Forest, is it not?" the female centaur murmured.

"That's not good enough," Harry insisted. "I know I'm not the first student to find their way in here." His hands clenched into fists. "Hogwarts is supposed to be safe. Why hasn't anything been done about this?"

"As if they could," Bane muttered. He looked Harry up and down and snorted. "And you came in here alone? Humans grow more arrogant every year."

"No," said the other centaur, before Harry could respond. The odd glint, almost amusement, was back in her eyes. "The outcome would be less than certain."

Harry's stomach was bubbling with nerves. He swallowed hard, and the centaur took pity on him. "No one should be in this forest alone, even one such as you."

Harry nodded jerkily. All desire for a fight had fled. The centaur took a step forward and gave a slight bow.

"I am Aeldra. We will meet again, Harry Potter."

Harry's jaw dropped, and by the time he recovered Aeldra and Bane had vanished back into the forest gloom.

For a minute, Harry could only stand there. He knew how powerful Divination was, one couldn't live with Rowena for decades and not know that, but it had been a long time since he had seen anything that precise. Knowing his name was one thing, knowing that he wasn't the apparently-normal student he appeared to be... They even seemed to know that he wasn't the only one.

Harry sucked in a shaky breath. The centaurs knew too much, but he also knew them. They had barely trusted humans in the past, and judging from Bane's hostility things had only gotten worse. They weren't going to tell anybody else. Not yet anyway.

Still, Cedric deserved to know. Harry turned on his heels and started making his way back towards the castle as fast as he could. Aeldra's words about the danger in the forest rang in his ears, and pushed him on. He had been right, there was danger here, more than there should be, but if Aeldra was right then he couldn't handle it alone. It stung, but he needed help.

Either that or wait until he was older and stronger, but that wasn't an option when there was a danger to their students so close at hand.

Harry shook his head. He was in danger of doing exactly what he had warned Cedric against, taking too much responsibility upon his own shoulders. For now, he would talk to Cedric about the centaurs, and they would work out what to do together.

Getting back into Hogwarts was easy. He scrambled out of the passage and dropped to the floor, but as he turned to make his way back up to the seventh floor a commotion around the corner made him pause. Unable to resist, he made his way down the corridor and peeked over the bannister. A gaggle of students were passing on the stairs below him, and he caught snatches of conversations.

"-you see him?"

"Hard to miss the sparkly pink robes!"

"And they sing!"

"I was there, he was right in the middle of screaming at this little Ravenclaw when it happened. You should have seen his face, it was awesome!"

Harry withdrew. Apparently the first part of the twins' assault had been a rousing success. Some of the amusement was a touch mean-spirited, but after everything Cedric had told him of Snape's teaching methods Harry couldn't bring himself to care. Someone who had spent years tormenting their students could deal with a bit of payback.

Of course, now that the first stage of the prank was in place, it was time for Harry to do his part. He turned back to the Room, a smirk spreading across his face. This was going to be fun.

It wasn't unusual for Severus Snape to be in a bad mood. It was far more unusual, in fact, to find him content with life in any way shape or form. Albus was used to that, and could even understand it to a certain degree. Unfortunately, recent circumstances had left his Potions Master in an even more destructive temper than usual. Albus had fielded complaints from prefects of all four houses, but by the time he found time to speak to Severus their students had taken matters into their own hands.

Albus knew better than to admit it to anybody, but the discordant screeching woven into the spellwork had been very neatly done. The whole ensemble was impressive, and certainly more creative than anything he had seen in some time. He suspected that some of their new arrivals had been involved. It had also proven surprisingly difficult to dispel, requiring not only Albus' input but that of Filius as well.

Needless to say, Severus had not been in the mood to appreciate their students' ingenuity. The chaos later discovered in his office had not helped. Nor had having to use Bubble-Head Charms until they were finally able to remove the worst of the mess.

Albus was expecting explosions as he entered the dungeons. At the very least there would be demands for expulsions, probably mixed in with a few demands to let Filch deal with the culprits as he saw fit. And Severus certainly was furious, Albus could see it in the flash of his black eyes and the bitter tang of magic in the air, but there was something in the way he stood that made Albus pause just inside the doorway.

"Severus? Is everything all right?"

The look Severus gave him could have melted a dragon's hide, and Albus quickly amended his statement, "Besides the obvious?"

Severus' lip curled, but he jabbed a hand at the congealed mess. "I have been analysing this…concoction."

"Ah. And your conclusions?"

Severus didn't reply immediately. Instead he waved his wand and a small beaker floated across the room. Albus took it, and a closer examination confirmed his initial suspicions.

"This is liverwort. Not an ingredient usually found in these sorts of potions."

"Precisely," Severus bit out. "Liverwort hasn't been used like this for centuries, not since some North American species of hornwort were proven to have greater efficacy with far fewer complicating effects. I have never seen a potion of this composition."

"And you would not have taught anyone to do so," said Albus quietly.

Severus jerked his head. There was a muscle twitching in his jaw, and for once Albus had to admit that his agitation was quite justified. None of their students could have made this. The only instructions Albus could think of that called for this type of liverwort were found in a book dating back to the 1200s that he had seen in Nicholas' collection. Even a particularly enterprising student would have difficulty accessing that.

"It is possible that some of them did extensive research," he began, but Severus interrupted with a snort.

"Headmaster, I am aware of the capabilities of every potions student in this school. While there are a select few that might have the forethought to use an uncommon catalyst, this potion is beyond anything that any of them could have accomplished." Black eyes bored into Albus. "And may I remind you that it is not the first time that magic beyond the capabilities of any student has been performed within these walls."

The whole situation suddenly became far less amusing. Albus remembered the explosion of magic over the summer, the exorcism of Binns, the destruction of the broom shed, and took a deliberately slow breath.

"It does bear a certain resemblance to previous attempts," he said quietly.

The other incidents, bar the first, had seemed to benefit the students. Considering the foul mood Severus had been in, and the fact that this prank had both amused the students and granted them a brief reprieve, Albus was willing to concede that it may be the same culprit. The why, and more importantly the who, remained frustratingly elusive.

"What is going on, Headmaster?" Severus demanded. "Who is doing this?"

"I do not know," said Albus quietly. "But it cannot continue."

This person might be working on behalf of the students, but their actions were raising questions that Albus could not answer. The one thing he did know for certain was that they were powerful and intelligent and appeared to have free access to Hogwarts. They threatened the wellbeing of everyone in his school, and Albus could not stand by any longer.

Harry was bored. Brewing Snape's potion had been a good distraction, but with that done and the Forest currently out of bounds he was beginning to get restless. Cedric had had to skip their early morning training session thanks to a double-length Astronomy class, and Harry was still waiting for a chance to tell him about the meeting with Aeldra. He was not looking forward to it.

That left Harry with nothing to do except tidying, which he was running out of patience for, and he was getting incredibly fed up with the preponderance of Christmas decorations. He had no objections to the holiday in principle, but the festive atmosphere only served to remind him that he would be spending yet another Christmas alone. He had done his best to make light of it, not wanting to burden Cedric any more than he had, but he couldn't say he was looking forward to the coming two weeks.

It might have been different if Lupin and Black had replied, but he didn't let himself dwell on that.

"Knut for your thoughts, Uncle?"

Harry forced a smile. "I'll spare you them, Helena. What did the students think of the pranks?"

Helena eyed him, but accepted the subject change with good grace. "They loved it. Some are worried that Snape will get even worse in retribution. I doubt it though," she added quickly, when Harry frowned. "The Headmaster usually steps in when he gets this many complaints, and enough prefects have spoken to him that he's aware of the matter."

"Then he should have done something about it," Harry muttered.

Helena gave a slight shrug. "Don't look at me, I agree with you. I've seen too many Ravenclaws dreading Potions lately. As far as I'm concerned, Snape deserved everything he got."

Harry smiled, but the approval didn't do much do lift his mood. They were sequestered at the back of the library, away from prying eyes, and he plucked a book from the shelves at random. "I hope he's learned his lesson."

Helena said nothing, and instead continued to watch him. Harry attempted to focus on the book but couldn't get past the first few pages before his attention started drifting. He hated feeling this way.

"You know you didn't do anything wrong, don't you?"

Harry's head snapped up. Helena met his gaze steadily, and he had to clear his throat before he could reply, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ghosts didn't need to sigh, but Helena did so anyway. "I know you, Uncle, and I've looked after students here for nearly a thousand years. You are not the only one to wonder why a loved one never reached out."

"Lupin and Black aren't loved ones," Harry snapped. "I don't even know them."

"But you could have," said Helena gently. "And they could have been. And it's all right to be angry that they haven't tried."

Harry's eyes burned. The words in front of him blurred, and he had to swallow down a lump in his throat before he could reply, "They should have."

"They should," Helena agreed. "They still might."

An icy hand touched his shoulder and it took all of Harry's willpower not to flinch. Helena floated closer to him. "Don't give up yet, Uncle."

Harry managed a weak smile, but let it fade quickly. At least he had Helena and Godric, and hopefully Helga and Rowena as well. He sighed and straightened up. In the meantime, dwelling on things that he couldn't change wouldn't help. He looked down at the book in his hands, and huffed.

"Please tell me there has been some improvements in literature over the past centuries."

Helena rolled her eyes and drifted upwards. "Try some Shakespeare. Not one of the tragedies, that's the last thing you need right now."

Harry couldn't argue with that. He shoved his book back on the shelf, and pulled down one of the collections of sonnets at random. Helga had always enjoyed poetry. Helena nodded. "That will do. Let me know what you think, I want to show them to Mother when...when she gets back."

The hope in her voice was painful. Harry stared down at the book. "Do you have any favourites?"

The poetry helped. So did the lack of people, thanks to the subtle repelling charm Harry had woven around their little corner. The peace did wonders for Harry's mood, and by the time it came for them to light the candles he was feeling far calmer.

That sense of calm was promptly shattered when Pento the house-elf appeared before them. A letter was in his hand, and Harry froze in the act of reaching for his wand. Pento offered it to him with a bow.

"For you, Master."

It was several seconds before Harry could bring himself to take the envelope. It shook when he turned it over and he saw his name printed neatly on the front. He had to swallow before he could reply. "Thank you, Pento."

The house-elf bowed again and vanished with a faint crack. Harry stared at the letter. He knew who it was from. There weren't many options, and even fewer that Hogwarts would let reach him. What it contained though...

Helena touched his arm, and the cold was enough to bring him to his senses.

"I'll be in the Room."

He Apparated before she could say anything.

Harry stumbled as he reappeared. The waves of emotion were physically painful, and even as he hunched over Hogwarts' consciousness wrapped around his in a wordless embrace. For a moment Harry allowed himself to bask in her comfort, but the letter was fairly burning in his hands and he had to pull himself away.

All he had to was open the letter. Once he did that then at least he would know, whatever Black and Lupin said. Even a rejection was better than not knowing. Harry could deal with rejection, but not knowing...Salazar had never been very good at that.

And yet his fingers wouldn't move.

Harry forced himself to take a deep, slow breath and then release it equally slowly. His fear was logical. These people were the most personal links he had to his father. As much as he hated to admit it, their opinion mattered. As long as he didn't open it, he didn't have to know that they didn't want him.

A hand rested on his shoulder and only knowing that there was only one person it could possibly be kept Harry from hexing them.

"You haven't opened it yet?"

The letter was still crumpled in his hand. Harry's eyes burned, and he turned to bury himself in Cedric's chest. Cedric's arms came around him immediately, and Harry closed his eyes.

"Did Helena tell you?"

"Actually, Hogwarts did," said Cedric. "I said I wasn't feeling well, no one will notice." His fingers brushed through Harry's hair. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Harry managed an awkward shrug. Clearly too long if Cedric had had time to come all the way up here. Cedric sighed. "You don't have to open it if you don't want to."

Harry closed his eyes. Cedric's arms tightened around him, but he didn't say anything. For a moment Harry let himself wish that he could let go. Spare himself the pain of yet another rejection.

But Godric had rubbed off on him. Harry took a deep breath and drew back.

"Yes, I do."

Cedric smiled. He guided them over to a low sofa, keeping one arm around Harry's shoulders the whole time. Harry smoothed out the letter with trembling hands. He allowed himself one more breath, then ripped the envelope open. Two different types of handwriting met his gaze, and he started to read.

Harry,

My name is Remus Lupin. I don't know how you were able to contact me, but I am so, so glad that you did. Your father was one of my dearest friends, and I miss him and your mother every day.

You asked why you were left with the Dursleys. It's true that Sirius is your godfather, but he was framed by Peter Pettigrew for the murder of twelve Muggles and imprisoned in Azkaban. It was Peter who betrayed your parents to Voldemort. I only learned the truth when I went to ask him if he was responsible for your disappearance. He told me what happened then broke out to find you. He will be getting a trial to prove his innocence, but you are our priority.

I wish I could have taken you in myself, I wanted to more than anything, but I have a condition that renders me an unfit guardian in the eyes of the Ministry. I wish things were otherwise, I wish you had never had to live with those people, but you wouldn't be safe with me.

We are glad you are safe, and understand your caution, but can you tell us anything about where you are and who is looking after you? There are still Death Eaters out there who hate you for what you did to their master, and they will be keen to get revenge. They are everywhere, including the highest levels of the Ministry. Be very careful who you trust.

I'm so sorry for what has happened to you, Harry, but you are not alone. Please remember that. If you ever need us, send word and we will come as soon as we can.

Remus Lupin

Harry had to pause after finishing Lupin's part of the letter. They didn't hate him. They had been worried about him. They wanted him to be safe. Relief left him light-headed, and for a moment he could only sag against Cedric.

"See?" said Cedric. "How could anyone not want you?"

Harry shook his head. His vision blurred, and he had to blink several times before he could keep reading. Black's writing was sharper and more angry, and in several places his quill had nearly torn through the parchment.

I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so so sorry. It was my idea to make Peter the Secret-Keeper, I thought it would be the perfect diversion. Peter was weak and everyone knew James was my best friend, and I thought I was so clever but I was wrong. I got your parents killed, and I will never forgive myself.

I'm your godfather. I've been a terrible one so far, but if you ever need me I'll be there. And whatever happens, you will never go back to the Dursleys. I swear it. I know you don't trust me yet, but I will do whatever it takes. You're my godson. I promised Lily and James that I would take care of you, and I'm going to keep that promise.

Harry swallowed. The self-blame and loathing practically poured off the page. He only realised his hands were shaking when Cedric gripped them tight.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

Harry had to choke down the lump in his throat before he could speak, "He spent eight years in Azkaban. Eight years surrounded by Dementors, believing that he caused the deaths of his best friends."

Cedric flinched. "I know."

"How did this happen?"

Cedric was quiet for a minute. "It appears this Pettigrew is more intelligent than anyone realised. And wizards...we do like easy solutions."

Harry looked away. This never should have happened. Black should have had a trial, he should have been freed sooner, he should have been able to look after Harry...

But there was no changing the past. Black was free, the authorities were finally working on getting him a pardon, and Harry was out of the Dursleys' hands. They could only move forwards.

Harry read the letter again. Warmth bubbled up in his chest and he found himself smiling. Black and Lupin cared about him. They were worried about him. The relief was great enough that he could almost forgive them for taking so long to reply. He didn't fully trust them yet, certainly not enough to tell them where he was, but they were trying. It was a start.

Cedric nudged him, and Harry looked up to find a warm smile on his face.

"Feeling better?"

"What do you think?" Harry muttered, but he relaxed into Cedric's side. Cedric wrapped an arm round his shoulders.

"They sound like good people."

Harry just nodded. Cedric's grip tightened. "You deserve that, Harry. More than anyone, you deserve it."

Harry hesitated, but knew better than to argue. He had Cedric, one day he would have Helga and Rowena, and that was all he needed, but he wouldn't say no to Lupin and Black.

Maybe this would be the last Christmas he spent alone.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Normally Harry would have rolled his eyes. They had had this conversation far too many times over the last week. Today though, he could only shrug. Cedric ran a hand through his hair.

"It's not too late for me to stay-"

"No," Harry interrupted. "You need to see your parents. I know you miss them, and they'll be missing you too." He reached up to squeeze Cedric's shoulders. "It's two weeks. I'll be fine. You go and enjoy yourself."

Still Cedric hesitated. "I'll write. And I'll work out a way to visit. I haven't tried Apparating that far, but I can do it in stages." He nodded to himself. "Yeah, I'll do that."

Harry didn't even try to hide the warmth that flooded his body. He couldn't begrudge Cedric the time with his family, but it was good to know that he wouldn't be forgotten. Not that Cedric ever would. Cedric smiled at him, but it soon faded.

"You'll remember what we talked about, won't you?"

Harry sighed. "I promise I won't go into the Forest."

Cedric had not been pleased to hear about his adventures. Not because of the encounter with the centaurs, he had been surprised by the accuracy of their Divination but agreed that they wouldn't say anything about it, but he was concerned by the danger that Harry had felt and been warned about. He relaxed slightly at Harry's words.

"We will deal with it," he said. "Together."

Harry just nodded. He would keep himself busy somehow. Cedric studied him for a moment, then pulled him into a hug.

"It'll be okay," he whispered. "I'll be back in two weeks."

Harry hugged him back. Cedric was warm and solid in his arms, and Harry breathed in his familiar scent and blinked back his tears. It wouldn't be long. Cedric would write and he would visit and he would be back soon. Cedric's arms tightened around him, but he said nothing and after a long minute Harry pulled back.

"You should go. You'll miss the carriages."

He was proud to hear that his voice didn't shake. Cedric ruffled his hair. "Take care of yourself. Keep an eye on Helena and Edmund. You're not alone."

Harry managed a weak smile. Cedric gave him a final fierce hug and slipped from the room. Harry sank onto the sofa with a sigh. It was going to be a long two weeks.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

Cedric tore his eyes from the rolling countryside. "I'm sorry?"

Fred nudged his brother. "Not sure they're worth a knut."

"Sorry," Cedric repeated. He sat up straighter and forced Harry from his mind. "What were you saying?"

George eyed him for a moment before shrugging. "Not much. Just wondering if you were planning on gracing us with your presence over the holidays?"

Cedric felt his cheeks warm up. The twins had accepted his apology, but he wasn't expecting them to forget about it any time soon. In fairness, he hadn't been paying attention for most of the journey home.

"Don't worry," Fred added. "We'll stop Ron from pestering you."

Cedric frowned at them. "Ron doesn't pester me. And he's the only one of you who can give me a decent chess game, so don't you dare say anything to him."

The twins rolled their eyes, but Cedric meant it. Ron was a good lad, with an mind for chess that was really remarkable in a boy of nine, and Cedric didn't like how Fred and George could get with him. He scowled at the pair of them until George raised his hands.

"Fine. It'll stop him bothering us anyway."

Fred said nothing, but there was a glint in his eye that Cedric didn't like the look of. Making a silent promise to keep an eye on Ron over the holiday, he changed the subject.

"Reckon Charlie will be up for a pick-up Quidditch game over the holiday?"

"Definitely," said George. "He says everyone's given him an insane amount of homework because of the NEWTs, but that just means he'll want to get outside more."

Cedric laughed. Charlie was a good student, but there was a reason he was Quidditch Captain and not a Prefect.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur of jokes and laughter. Some of Cedric's friends from Hufflepuff stopped by, and Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan came by to hang out for a few hours. Cedric threw himself into the conversation and the experience of meeting new friends, but as hard as he tried he couldn't help worrying about Harry. By the time they reached London, he was more determined than ever to find a way to meet up with his friend over the holiday.

"Looks like Ron and Ginny came to meet us," said George. He jumped up to wave his siblings at the same moment Fred started to drag his trunk down. They collided with identical indignant squawks, and Cedric caught the trunk with a quick spell before it could squash Lee. Lee let out an explosive huff.

"Thanks, mate."

Cedric waved off the thanks. Fred and George untangled themselves with sheepish looks and mumbled apologies, and George leaned out the window. "Can you see your parents?"

Cedric took a quick look around him, then shook his head. "Dad's probably at work, and Mum doesn't like crowds. She'll be over by the fireplaces."

"I can see mine," Lee exclaimed. He squeezed his way past George to wave, and Cedric stepped back to give them more space. He had to smile at his friend's' excitement. He missed his own parents fiercely, having an adult's memories didn't change the fact that he had the physical body and brain of a child, but he had forgotten what it felt like to be away from family for the first time.

By the time the train finally came to a halt all four boys were ready and waiting by the doors. Cedric actually had to stop Fred from jumping out while they were still moving, something which earned him multiple eye rolls.

"You used to be fun," Fred grumbled, but the scowl vanished when two redheads bounded out of the crowd. "Ginny! Ron!"

Cedric stepped aside to let the twins join their younger siblings. Ginny was picked up and spun around, squealing with laughter, while George grabbed Ron into a rough hug, all four talking at the tops of their voices. Lee grinned as he watched them.

"Wish I had siblings."

Cedric thought of Harry and Helga and smiled. He nodded past the Weasleys. "There's your dad."

Lee was out the train before Cedric could even finish the sentence. Cedric cast a quick glance round, and seeing no one paying any attention to him levitated all four trunks out onto the platform with a silent spell. Being eleven and small and skinny again was a pain. He jumped out of the carriage and immediately felt a tug at his sleeve.

"Cedric, lift me!"

Cedric laughed, and swung Ginny up on to his back. Even as a weedy eleven year old he could manage that. She shrieked with glee, and he laughed. "Miss me, Gin?"

"More than I missed those two," she said impishly, earning indignant snorts from the twins. Cedric grinned, then spotted Ron standing slightly shyly off to the side.

"Ron! Been practicing?"

Ron lit up at being noticed. "Yeah, when I can! Can we play again soon?"

"I've been looking forward to it," said Cedric, and Ron's ears blazed bright red with pleasure. Cedric smiled at him. "I haven't had a good match in weeks."

None of his housemates were really into chess, and Harry had had other things on his mind. Ron beamed at him, thankfully not seeing Fred roll his eyes behind him, then further conversation was forestalled by the arrival of a redheaded hurricane.

"Ron! How many times have I told you not to run off? And you too, Ginny? I was worried sick! Oh, Fred, George, its so good to see you!"

The twins were pulled into hugs they didn't even try to escape from. Percy and Charlie had already been collected, and at Ginny's cry of delight Cedric let her down so that she could run to her other brothers. Ron, though, lingered.

"You'll come over next week, won't you?"

"Monday," Cedric promised. "We'll have a game and then go flying."

Ron gave him a brilliant smile, and Cedric couldn't help ruffling his hair. The youngest Weasley boy's lack of self-esteem reminded him horribly of Salazar sometimes. Unlike Salazar Ron didn't protest, just smiled even brighter before going to see his brothers. Cedric watched him go with a smile, then heard his name being called and turned to be enveloped in a fierce embrace.

"And Cedric, it's lovely to have you back. You've grown so much!"

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," said Cedric. "It's good to be back."

Mrs Weasley patted him fondly on the cheek. "And thank you for keeping an eye on these two. Merlin knows what kind of trouble they would have got into without you!"

Cedric grinned. The twins had been so busy investigating him that they had appeared almost well behaved this first term. That wouldn't last long. Fred caught his eye and snorted, quickly hiding it in a cough when Mrs Weasley glared round. "What was that?"

"Nothing," said Cedric. "There was a cold starting to go round last week."

Fred and George grinned at him, and Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. "Oh dear. I do hope neither of you come down with something. Pepper-Up Potions for all of you when we get home, I think."

Her children exchanged looks, and Cedric decided it was time he excused himself. "I should find my mum. Is it all right if I come over next week, Mrs Weasley?"

"Of course, dear! You know you never have to ask."

"Lee's gonna visit sometime too," said George. "This holiday is gonna be great!"

"Lee?" said Mrs Weasley, and that was all she had to say before Fred and George were dragging her over to meet Lee and his dad. Cedric waved them goodbye, and Ginny ran over to hug him again.

"I saw your mum over there," she said, pointing in the direction of the Floo fireplaces.

"Thanks, Ginny," said Cedric. "See you next week, everyone!"

He left with a chorus of farewells ringing in his ears. He weaved through the crowd, the charms he had placed on his trunk making it manageable even for him, and finally made his way over to the fireplaces.

"Mum! And Dad? I thought you had work?"

Dad laughed and caught him into a hug. "As if I'd miss picking you up from your first term," he said.

Cedric grinned and hugged him tight, then shifted so that he could hug his mother too. Her hand came up to brush the back of his neck. "It's so good to see you, bubbele."

Cedric felt his cheeks heat up at the old endearment, but after so long away he just relaxed into her embrace. "Its really good to see you too, Mum," he mumbled, into her shoulder, and felt her chuckle.

"My clever boy still needs me," she teased. She drew back to look at him, dark eyes studying him closely before she finally nodded. "Hogwarts is treating you well."

Dad clapped him on the back. "It certainly is. He'll be as tall as me soon."

Cedric couldn't help straightening, then blushed as his parents chuckled. Dad bent to pick up his trunk and blinked when he lifted it with no effort. "Did you bring anything home with you?"

Cedric had meant to take the charms off before he got home, but seeing his father had distracted him. At least had learned enough from Salazar to be able to cover with a sheepish smile. "I got one of the seventh years to charm it for me." He grinned at them. "Then I didn't tell Charlie and he nearly threw it across the hall when he picked it up."

It had been a while since the older boy had looked that startled. His dad's loud guffaws drew startled looks, but Cedric was too busy soaking in his parents' presence to care. He had missed them. Mum wrapped an arm around him again.

"We'll get you home and catch up properly. I hope you didn't bring home too much washing."

Ten minutes later found Cedric dumping his trunk in his room and bounding back downstairs. The whole house smelled like cholent, and it soothed the tension he hadn't realised he had been holding onto. Godric hadn't been particularly religious in his first life, and so growing up in a Jewish family, even one that followed Reform Judaism, had been something of a revelation. Going to Hogwarts and getting caught up in the chaos of the legacies of his life had left him neglecting the laws and traditions he followed now, and being back with his family brought home just how much he had missed it.

It wouldn't happen again, he vowed. For now, he would celebrate what left of Shabbat and be with his family and let himself be at peace.

Remus had been getting worried about Sirius. With no further information on where to start looking for Harry, and being restricted to the house thanks to his fugitive status and Moody's dire warnings about being more discreet, his friend had been growing steadily more agitated with every passing day.

Harry's second letter had only aimed that frenzied energy in another direction.

"Oh, and we have to tell him about the time Lily called out half the seventh year Ravenclaws for bullying that first year." He sniggered at the memory. "James was so starry-eyed he walked into a statue."

Remus looked at the table. It was covered in half-written notes and discarded pieces of parchment. "We're sending him a letter, not a book," he said. "And I thought you were supposed to be writing a statement to give to Moody."

The sooner the Ministry had some sort of statement about what had happened all those years ago the sooner they could get on with proving that Pettigrew had been the culprit. Moody had already found Sirius' wand somewhere in the depths of the Ministry and it was being tested, but Sirius' own account would help.

Sirius though, just glared at him.

"I don't give a damn about my innocence," he growled. He rummaged around in the chaos and shoved a piece of parchment against Remus' chest. "Harry is more important."

Remus didn't need to read the letter again. The words were burned into his brain. Harry had been understandably cautious, but one passage in particular had spoken of something deeper

Could you tell me about my parents? The Dursleys never talked about them.

Sirius' grey eyes were flashing with barely suppressed rage.

"He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know that James used to sing in the shower, or that Lily followed Muggle football from Hogwarts. He doesn't know that James asked her out fifty-seven times, or that he took her to that stupid tea shop for their first date and she hated it and he was convinced he had screwed everything up until she told him to stop being a prat and they went for ice cream instead. He doesn't know that James would do anything for his friends and Lily would never stay silent if she saw something wrong, and he has no idea how much they loved him."

"Stop it," Remus whispered. His vision was blurring, and he had to take a moment to wipe away tears. Sirius suddenly paled.

"Fuck, does he even know that James was Tamil?"

Remus swallowed. Somehow he doubted that Petunia Dursley had ever bothered to think of James as anything more than that foreign boy. Vernon was no better. He had to swallow again before he could reply, "Probably not."

Sirius slammed a fist down on the table, sending parchment flying over the floor, but tears were gleaming in his own eyes. "Fuck," he repeated. "Fuck them, and fuck everyone who left him with them."

Remus could feel the magic building in the room, not all of it from Sirius, and crossed the room to grip his friend's shoulder. "We will tell him," he said fiercely. "We'll teach him about his family and his heritage. We'll teach him everything James ever taught us. We will fix this."

James had been fiercely proud of his heritage. They couldn't do anything about Harry's childhood, about how he had grown up knowing nothing about where his family came from, but they could change things now. Sirius rubbed a hand roughly across his eyes and sat up.

"You kept our notes from when James was teaching us Tamil?" Remus nodded, and he gave a grim smile. "That's a start. We'll work on it more when we can teach him in person."

Remus glanced up at him. Did that mean... Sirius pulled a fresh roll of parchment towards himself. "You come up with some more good stories, Remus. I've got a statement to write."

Relief flooded Remus' body. He had always known Sirius would make an amazing godfather. This would be the last time Harry spent Christmas away from his family.

Then Remus sat bolt upright.

"Sirius. It's nearly Christmas."

Sirius stilled, grey eyes going distant. "Lily loved Christmas." His grip tightened on the quill until Remus thought he would break it. "He should be celebrating with us."

"I know," said Remus. "He deserves better." Sirius frowned, and Remus let his grin appear. "I think we can manage a bit more than just a few stories. Don't you?"

Cedric came down for breakfast refreshed and full of energy after a night spent in his own bed. He could hear his dad humming in the kitchen as he made scrambled eggs on toast, and when he poked his head into the living room he found his mother sat on the carpet surrounded by potions notes that would have turned Harry green with jealousy. It was a wonderful return to what passed for normality in their family.

Breakfast brought another surprise. Dad waited until they had finished eating before clearing his throat.

"Now, Cedric, I've got some exciting news."

Cedric brightened. "Did the Harpies qualify for Europe?"

"What? Oh yes, they passed with flying colours. Spectacular game actually, I've got the Prophet report somewhere-"

"Amos," said Mum gently. "The other exciting news?"

Dad coughed. "Ah, yes, of course. Thank you, dear."

The look the two of them shared reminded Cedric far too much of how he used to look at Rowena. The resulting ache in his chest was far too familiar, and he leaned forward. "Dad? What is it?"

Dad tore his eyes away to smile at him. "Oh, yes. " He puffed himself up. "I've been promoted! You are looking at the Head of the Spirit Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Congratulations!" Cedric exclaimed. He stood up to give his father a hug. "That's great!"

"Isn't it?" said Dad proudly. "And I already know what my first order of business will be." He didn't wait for Cedric to voice the question. "It's about time we found out what really happened to Professor Binns."

Only decades of practice kept Cedric's grin on his face. "Binns? I thought the Aurors already looked into that."

Hogwarts had passed on the results of the investigation as soon as they made their report to Dumbledore, but neither Cedric nor Harry had been particularly worried. Harry's spell had been an old and highly effective one that left no traces. Dad frowned.

"They did, but to find no evidence whatsoever? It's a disgrace!" He paused. "Of course I'm sure that Rufus managed the whole affair correctly, but the Aurors don't have our specialist knowledge after all. I'm confident that we can find something they missed."

Cedric rather doubted that, especially after two months, but he just shrugged. "Okay, but they did say that Binns went voluntarily. Professor Bagshott is brilliant anyway."

The young woman taught stuff that had happened in the last century for a start. Dad chuckled. "I'm sure, but it's the principle of the thing. In fact, I was planning on having a word with Rufus at the works do."

"Works do?"

It was Mum that answered, "Amelia Bones is hosting this year's Ministry party. We have been invited."

She didn't look too happy at the prospect, she liked large gatherings about as much as Harry did, but Dad was beaming at the perceived honour. "It's about time! It'll be a fine evening." He slung an arm around Cedric's shoulders. "And I've told them all about you. Top of your year already! They're keen to meet you."

Cedric nodded, then blinked. "I'm invited?"

He couldn't imagine why anyone would want a bunch of children running around at a party, but Dad was nodding. "It's tradition to bring children of a suitable age, or so I'm told. A chance for you to expand your horizons a bit."

Cedric couldn't help the face he pulled. He loved meeting new people, but not like this. Dad was looking so proud though that he summoned a smile. "Sounds like it'll be interesting."

Dad beamed at him, and Cedric exchanged a resigned look with his mother as he was pulled into another hug. The things they did for family.

Harry stared out of the window at the stormy sky. The bad weather tugged at his magic, making him feel itchy and restless, and he tossed aside the battered cauldron he had been examining.

"No."

Harry blinked up at his niece. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

Helena arched an elegant eyebrow. "I know you, Uncle," she said, and her tone was scarily reminiscent of her mother. "And I know you have more sense than to go flying in a storm."

"I wouldn't get hurt," Harry muttered. Even without full control over his abilities, lightning had always been kind to him.

"No," Helena repeated. "If Cedric gets back and you've flow into the Whomping Willow he'll murder me. And I've already been murdered once, and I doubt it will get any more pleasant with repeated experiences."

Harry flinched, and she had the grace to look apologetic. "Sorry. Force of habit."

Harry managed a small smile. Thinking about his own murder was difficult, and he had only been aware of it for nine years. He couldn't imagine having a thousand years to dwell on it, but he could understand developing a somewhat dark sense of humour, if only to stay sane.

Instead, he focused on the less morbid part of her statement.

"What's the Whomping Willow?"

Helena waved a hand. "I'll tell you about it in the morning. Not that I think you'd go out investigating it now..."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up and looked away. "I promised Cedric I would stay out of trouble."

Helena's expression spoke volumes. Harry scowled and slumped back into the sofa. "I am, I'm just bored!"

Helena shook her head fondly. She floated down until she was closer to Harry's level. "Remember how scared I used to be of storms?"

Harry blinked, then smiled at the memory. "It's hard to forget. You always used to come to me."

"You felt safe," said Helena softly. She met his gaze and smiled. "You always did, but especially then."

Harry's hand moved of its own accord before he realised he couldn't touch her. Helena reached for him at the same moment, and Harry couldn't quite suppress a hiss at the icy cold. For a moment he remembered how she used to scramble into his arms and throat her arms round his neck and it was a physical ache in his chest. Helena's own smile had turned bittersweet.

"Look how far we've come," she murmured.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did hurt, but he had Helena, even if it wasn't in a way either of them had ever thought possible. He looked back at his niece and smiled.

"Remember when Godric had too much of Hengist's ale and thought the thunder was a giant attacking?"

Helena snorted. "Its hard to forget, he nearly blew the main doors off!" She grinned. "That was a good one. Though not as funny as the time the older students got hold of the really good stuff and threw a party."

Harry groaned at the memory, but there was no heat in it. "It was the first time I saw Rowena completely speechless."

Helena laughed, bright and clear, and Harry smiled. There were worse ways to spend a holiday.

"Are you both ready to go?"

Cedric tore his gaze from the first flickering candle on the menorah and pushed himself to his feet. "Have been for an hour," he called.

He tried to inject some enthusiasm into his voice, but knew he hadn't succeeded when his father sighed. "I know this isn't how you wanted to spend the evening, Ced, but this is important to me."

He slung an arm around Cedric's shoulders, and Cedric leaned into the embrace. "Yeah, I know it is. I'll be more excited when I get there."

"That's my boy." He raised his voice. "Naomi? Are you ready?"

"We don't have to leave for another ten minutes," Mum called down, and Cedric covered a smile with his hand. His mother had never been late for anything in her life. Dad sighed and brushed some fluff off of Cedric's dark blue dress robes.

"Am I being too eager?"

"Maybe just a little," said Cedric dryly. He glanced up at his dad. "We are really proud of you, but you don't need to worry about impressing them. You're good at your job and that's what matters."

Dad blinked, then smiled and patted him on the back. "It's nice that you think so, but Ministry politics is a bit more complicated. You won't get anywhere in life if you don't play the game, my boy."

Cedric suppressed a sigh with an effort. This was the most frustrating thing about being eleven again. Being considered mature for his age wasn't enough to get even his parents to take him seriously. About the only people older than him who didn't treat him like a little kid were Bill, Charlie, and Percy Weasley.

He closed his eyes and breathed out his annoyance. It wasn't just his dad that was the problem. The last thing he wanted to do was go to a boring party when there were so many better things he could be doing. In particular, he still hadn't been able to sneak away long enough to see Harry. He couldn't vanish for that long during the day without his mum getting suspicious, and she was good enough friends with the Weasleys and Lovegoods that he couldn't pretend to be seeing them. A party would have been the perfect opportunity.

"Ced?"

Cedric shook his head. "Just thinking." Maybe he would just pretend to sleep in in the morning and Apparate up to Hogwarts. It might end up taking two jumps, but he was pretty sure he could do it. He stepped away. "I'll go and see how Mum's getting on."

He took the stairs two at a time and nearly walked into his mum when she came out the bedroom.

"No running in the house," she said automatically, and Cedric gave her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Mum. You look great!"

She did, in traditional robes of a blue that matched Cedric's, and she straightened his outer robe with a smile. "Thank you, and so do you." She brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. "I know you don't want to do this," she said softly. "But it does mean a lot to your father."

Cedric leaned into the hug she offered. "I know," he murmured. "But I get to go flying all day tomorrow, right?"

She laughed and hugged him tight before letting him go. "While it's light," she amended.

Cedric grinned. That was good enough. Mum tidied his hair one more time then sighed. "All right, we should get going," she said. "Don't worry, we won't be staying long."

Cedric's grin widened. "I can say I'm sick and need to go home whenever you want."

Mum laughed and pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs. "Come on."

She hadn't actually said no, and Cedric was still grinning as he made his way downstairs. Dad was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace and he brightened when he caught sight of them.

"You look lovely, darling. Now, are you both ready to go?"

"Yes, dear," said Mum patiently. "As long as you're sure we won't be too early."

"Of course not! Come on, I've already called ahead, and Madam Bones is expecting us."

Mum quirked an eyebrow, and Cedric covered a smile with a hand. His dad was enthusiastic and passionate and that wasn't a bad thing, but he could get carried away. Dad clapped his hands. "You first, dear?"

Mum sighed, but took a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the flames with a grace that Cedric didn't have a chance of imitating. Dad waved him forward. "You next, Ced. Don't worry, I'll be right behind you."

Cedric smiled and stepped into the Floo. He still couldn't decide if it was more or less disorientating than Apparating, but at least it took less effort. He still staggered as he stepped out onto the carpet, but his mum was there to catch him and he gave her a grateful smile before straightening. The amount of magic in the house made his skin tingle, but he collected himself and turned to their hostess.

"Madam Bones. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Madam Bones smiled down at him. "And you. Your father has told me a great deal about you, Cedric."

Cedric smiled, but before he could reply his father stepped smartly out of the fireplace. He straightened his robes and immediately held out a hand to Madam Bones.

"Madam Bones! Once again, thank you so much for inviting us. It really is a great honour."

"It's a pleasure to have you, Amos," said Madam Bones. "And you are right on time."

Dad puffed himself up, but Cedric caught the glint of amusement in Madam Bones' eyes. Her long braids brushed against her robes as she turned to him. "You are the first ones to arrive, but my niece, Susan, is upstairs."

Cedric could take a hint, even if he would rather stay with the adults. He thanked Madam Bones, waved to his parents, and headed for the stairs. Somehow he wasn't at all surprised that they were the only ones there.

Cedric could feel the magic in the house as he made his way upstairs. The Bones were an old magical family and generations of witches and wizards had left an imprint that prickled at his skin. It seemed to get even stronger as he climbed the stairs, and without realising it Cedric quickened his pace. There was something here, something important, and he had to find out what. He moved along the corridor on silent feet until he came to the final room and opened the door.

He saw a girl around Harry's age, her yellow robes glowing against her dark skin, but all physical senses paled into insignificance next to the overwhelming rush of his magic meeting hers. Her eyes widened, at the same moment Cedric's jaw dropped.

"Helga?"

Chapter Text

Cedric had spent years praying that his three dearest friends had been reincarnated alongside him. Finding Salazar in Hogwarts had given him hope, but still the fear of losing Rowena and Helga had lingered. More than one nightmare had featured a future without his two dear friends.

Now Helga was standing right in front of him and Cedric moved without thinking. He closed the gap between them in two long steps and pulled her into a fierce hug.

“Oh, Helga, I am so glad you’re here.”

“Godric,” Helga breathed, and her arms came around him in a crushing grip. “I thought I was the only one.”

“Never,” said Cedric. He drew back to look her in the eye, and had to swallow down a lump in his throat before he could continue. “It is so, so good to see you again.” 

Helga beamed up at him, and her joy doubled his own. She was the warmth of the summer sun and flowers blooming in spring, and she was his little sister and he had missed her more than words could express. So much had changed; her deep brown skin and eyes were very different, and she was younger than she had been when they first met, but she was Helga and she was here and as her magic embraced him the world seemed brighter than it had in a long time. 

“I missed you,” Helga whispered. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too.” His face was already hurting from smiling so much, but he didn’t care. “How are you? Are you all right?”

If her life had been anything like Harry’s… But Helga was already nodding. “I’m fine. Better than fine, really. My parents and aunt… Growing up with magic has been very different.” Her smile faded slightly. “I was just so scared that the rest of you hadn’t been reborn too.” 

Cedric smiled. That was one worry he could do even more to alleviate. “Well, I haven’t found Rowena yet, but Salazar is here too.”

Helga’s eyes went very wide. She turned away for a moment, and when she looked back her eyes were very bright. “He’s all right?”

Cedric pulled her into another, more gentle hug. He could understand the need to ask the question. “As he ever is,” he said dryly. “He will be so glad to see you.”

Helga buried her face in his chest. “I’ve missed him,” she mumbled. “All of you, but after we lost him...”

“I know.”

They should have had years more with Salazar. They had had another two decades with Rowena before she succumbed to illness. Salazar had been taken from them far too soon. Helga’s grip tightened.

“He’s not dying ‘til he’s at least a hundred and fifty this time.”

Cedric snorted. “I’m glad you’re here. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Helga drew back, rubbing her eyes. “At least it can’t be any harder than last time. He doesn’t have every Dark Wizard in the country after him this time.”

Cedric froze. “Um. About that...”

Helga’s eyes narrowed. “He can’t be in that much trouble. You’re acting like he’s Harry Potter or something.”

Cedric winced. Helga’s laughter trailed off. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Cedric shook his head. Helga sank into the nearest chair. “Tell me everything.”

Cedric took a deep breath. He was very aware that they didn’t have long before other children would be arriving, but a lot had happened in the last few months.

“Okay. Harry was sent to live with his aunt and uncle after his parents were murdered, they’re massive racists and bigots so he ran away to Hogwarts last summer, I started my first year in September and met him there, he’s fine, he’s happy, we’ve been meeting up and training every day, we got rid of a terrible teacher and got a better one, we set fire to all the rubbish brooms so we could get decent ones, Harry’s been exploring the Forest and there’s something weird going on but it’s okay I made him promise not to explore further until I got back so he can’t have got into too much trouble-” 

“Godric,” Helga interrupted. “Breathe!”

Cedric did, and gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Anyway, he’s okay.”

“Good,” said Helga quietly. She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at him. “And how are you? Actually, who are you now?”

Cedric cast a quick glance out the door, but there were still no signs of anyone joining them. He turned back to her and stuck out his hand. “Cedric Diggory. Nice to meet you.”

Helga shook it with a giggle. “Susan Bones, and likewise.” She grinned at him. “I’m a pureblood this time. It’s so weird.”

“Same,” said Cedric. “Harry’s a half-blood, I think.” He looked down, smile fading. “I don’t know about Rowena yet.”

Helga took his hand, and Cedric looked down into her dark eyes. She pulled him over to the sofa and snuggled into his side. Cedric wrapped his arm around her, relaxing automatically as he remembered all the times they had done this at Hogwarts.

“Rowena is here,” said Helga quietly. “And if the three of us are all around the same age then it stands to reason that she is too. She’ll be at Hogwarts soon. I’m sure of it.”

Cedric pressed a kiss to her fluffy afro. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” said Helga. She grinned up at him. “Though it’s going to be strange calling you Cedric.”

“I still call Harry Salazar,” Cedric admitted. “It’s fine as long as we don’t do it in front of other people.”

Though he would have to make a conscious effort to start referring to her as Susan. Otherwise he would slip up, and it would probably be at the worst possible time. Susan nodded. “Watch out for my aunt. She’s really sharp.”

Cedric nodded. “Got it.” He shook his head. “It’s hard though. A lot has changed.”

“Tell me about it,” said Susan dryly. “I’m a completely different ethnicity.”

Cedric grinned. “I noticed. I’m Jewish. And Harry is Indian, we think. His aunt and uncle never answered his questions so he doesn’t know for sure.”

Susan’s smile faded. “He deserved better than that.” She pulled away enough to look Cedric in the eye. “So when are we going to visit him?”

Cedric blinked, then grinned. He didn’t know why he was even surprised. “I’ve actually got an idea about that.” A murmur of voices sounded from downstairs, and he frowned. “But I don’t think we have time to go into details now. I’ll write to you in the morning, but trust me, it’ll be fantastic.”

Susan eyed him. “Oh? Have your plans improved in this life?”

But her eyes were sparkling again and Cedric relaxed. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Susan detached herself with a grimace. “If more people turn up we can sneak off,” she whispered. “Otherwise send an owl first thing in the morning.”

Cedric nodded, but couldn’t reply before the door was flung open and two giggling girls came in. They broke off long enough to wave at Susan, who stepped forward with a smile.

“Hello! I didn’t know you were coming.” She glanced at Cedric. “Cedric Diggory, this is Alice Twycross and Marietta Edgecombe.”

Cedric summoned his best smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

He was slightly bemused when that elicited more giggles. Cedric glanced at Susan, who just shook her, a slight smile playing about her lips. The curly-haired girl, Marietta, recovered first. “Nice to meet you too, Cedric.”

Alice nodded, but didn’t seem able to look him in the eye. Remembering his dad’s words, Cedric tried again. “Do you your parents work for the Ministry too?”

“My mum works in the Floo Department,” said Marietta. “So does Alice’s uncle, but he knows more about Apparation. Right, Alice?”

She nudged her friend, but Alice just squeaked and continued to stare at the floor. Cedric nodded, trying to hide his confusion, but thankfully more children were arriving and Susan looped an arm through his.

“Come on, let me introduce you to people.”

“You’ve done this before?” Cedric murmured. 

Susan nodded. “Aunt Millie’s been bringing me to these things for years. She says it’s important to get to know people early.” She lowered her voice. “Especially in the Ministry. She says it’s much easier to predict people when you’ve known them as children.”

Cedric couldn’t help laughing. “I can’t wait for her to meet Harry.”

“They’re going to get along well,” Susan agreed. She peered over the bannister and brightened. “Okay, there’s a lot of people down there. Come on, we’ll go and hide in the guest room.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before too? And what happened to introducing me to people?”

Susan arched an eyebrow at him. “There will be plenty more Ministry parties, I can assure you. And only when I absolutely have to. Now hurry.”

Cedric cast a final glance down at the bustling hallway and followed Susan along the corridor to a closed door. Susan waved a hand at the lock, and slipped inside at the faint click. Cedric checked that no one was paying attention to them and followed her. “This place is bigger than it looks from the outside, right?”

His dad had talked about doing it to their house, but had never got round to it. Susan nodded and dropped onto the bed. “Yeah, it’s been in the family for ages.” Her smile faded slightly. “My other aunt and uncle used to live here, but they died during the first war.”

“I’m sorry,” said Cedric quietly. HIs own family had come through the war mostly unscathed. Susan and Harry hadn’t been so lucky, and who knew what had happened to Rowena. Susan tugged him down so she could lean against him. 

“I never met them,” she said. “But Dad and Aunt Millie have told me a lot about them.”

Cedric wrapped an arm around her. He didn’t want to spoil the reunion with dark thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself. “We’re not so sure that Voldemort is dead.”

There were a dozen better ways he could have brought that up, but the thought of facing another war was suddenly unbearable. They had just got another chance. Susan shivered. “Some of the Aurors say the same thing,” she said softly. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

The steel in her voice was reassuringly familiar, and Cedric smiled. “We will. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yes. And the first thing we need to do is make a plan.” She twisted to look up at him, dark eyes gleaming. “When are we going to meet Harry?”

Cedric grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”

Parties were exhausting, but Susan was awake before dawn the next day. Some habits took more than one lifetime to fade, and the events of the previous day, and the knowledge that she wasn’t as alone as she had dreaded had left her too excited to stay in bed. She had a lot to do, and she set about getting ready for the day as quickly as she could. It would have been quicker with a wand, but the finesse with wandless magic that she had learned in her first life served her just as well in this one. That it made her parents so proud was just one more bonus.

Even after nine years, having her parents’ approval sent a warm thrill through her. She had loved her first set of parents, and knew that they had loved her, but knowing that Charles and Elinor Bones loved every part of her was brought a sense of comfort she had thought lost a long time ago. 

The kettle whistled from the kitchen and Susan hurried to finish tying up her black hair. She ran down the stairs, and reached the kitchen just as her mother was pouring her first cup of tea. Mam looked up at her entrance and smiled.

“You’re up early. Did you have a nice time last night?”

“I did,” said Susan, with a smile and for once it was the truth. Seeing Cedric had been the best thing that happened to her all year. “I made friends with Cedric.”

“Amos’ son?” Susan nodded. “I’m glad. He seemed like a good boy.”

“He is.” She hopped onto a stool and accepted the orange juice her mother poured her with a smile. “He’s going to write and tell me about Hogwarts when he goes back.”

Mam blinked, then smiled. “That’s nice of him. And he’s very good looking too.”

“Mam!”

Mam laughed, dark eyes sparkling as she sipped her tea. “I know, I know. Studies first.”

Susan just shook her head. Cedric was the older brother she had never had and both of them were very happy with that. She refused to let herself think of the true object of her affections and leaned on the counter.

“I wish you didn’t have to go in today.”

Her dad was working from home, but Christmas Eve was a time for family and it wasn’t the same when one of them wasn’t there. Mam smiled and cupped her cheek. “Me too, but it’s only for a half day. I just have to go over a few case details and then I’ll be straight back home.”

It was the opening Susan had been hoping for, and she thought of Salazar and kept her voice light. “Like Sirius Black’s?” 

Mam blinked. “Well, technically he isn’t one of mine, but under the circumstances…” She shook her head, smile fading. “Such a terrible thing to happen. Everyone has been keeping up with that one.”

“How did it happen?” Susan asked. She needed answers, and she knew Harry would too. Despite just having woken up, Mam looked very tired.

“You have to understand, dear, things were very difficult at the end of the war. So many people were coming forward saying they had been under the Imperius Curse or otherwise coerced, others were trying to get revenge, and after everything we had lost…”

“I know,” said Susan quietly. She had never got the chance to meet her uncle and his family. Many others had suffered even greater losses.

Mam sighed again. “Mistakes were made. No one meant for it to happen, but it did and all we can do it try to fix it.”

Susan slipped off the stool and moved round to give her a hug. “You will.”

It still filled her with awe that magical society had developed to the point of having a reasonably functional government, but this was a sobering reminder of how much further they still had to go. Mam hugged her tight, one hand resting on her curls. “I hope so. Black finally sent in a personal statement, so Scrimgeour can put more pressure on the lawyers.”

Susan brightened. “That’s wonderful! Will that help them pardon him then?”

Mam thought for a moment, before slowly nodding. “It won’t hurt. It won’t be long before it gets leaked to the Prophet, and Black already has a good deal of public support.”

“And Minister Fudge cares about what people think of him,” said Susan slowly. “He needs their support.”

Mam blinked at her. “Yes. Yes, he does.” She ruffled Susan’s hair. “I didn’t realise you paid so much attention to politics.”

Susan just shrugged. Like Cedric, she had had to get used to not being taken seriously. “It’s interesting. Sometimes,” she amended. “Not as interesting as your work though.”

Even if her mother’s job was far more stressful. Helga had spent far too much time watching people she knew walk into danger without her. At least Aurors had had more in the way of back up than Godric and Salazar had managed with. Mam smiled, then glanced at the clock and winced.

“I’m going to be late. I’ll see you later, sweetie.”

She gave Susan a quick kiss on the forehead and hurried for the fireplace. Susan sighed. She had a lot to think about, but the news about Sirius Black was promising. The sooner they could prove his innocence the sooner Harry could get an adult who wanted him. It would still take time, Sirius would need time to recover before he was fit to look after anyone, even if that someone was a reincarnated adult, but it was something. 

There was a soft tap on the window. Susan looked over to see an unfamiliar eagle owl, remembered Cedric’s promise, and ran for the window. 

Harry had been hoping that Sirius and Remus would write back a little faster this time. He couldn’t care less about Christmas and he wasn’t expecting anything, but he really wanted to know about his parents. Helena and Edmund had told him what little they could, and there was only so much he could learn from seeing their names on trophies and class records. If Sirius and Remus were serious about wanting to be in his life he hoped that they would at least have a few stories.

He was not expecting Pinto to appear with an enormous hamper late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. The house-elf bowed low.

“A gift, sir,” he said, then vanished with a crack.

Helena leaned down. “Are you going to open it, or keep gawping?”

Harry snapped his mouth shut. He set his book down and stumbled over to the delivery. “What is all this?”

“If you hurry up and open it, we will find out.”

Harry rolled his eyes and unbuckled the strap. A heady smell of mixed sweet and savoury spices filled the room and he gasped. The Dursleys had never had anything more exotic than a curry from the takeaway found the corner. This was something else. He peered inside and blinked.

“How did they make it bigger on the inside?”

There was no way so much food should be able to fit in a hamper this size. Helena rolled her eyes. “I’ll show you the spell in the morning. Are you going to look at all this or not?”

Harry wrenched his attention from the new magic and focused on the contents. There were several boxes and wrapped packages, all smelling divine, but what caught his attention were the stack of notebooks. A thick album was tucked next to them and Harry reached for it with shaking hands. He opened it, and for the first time in his life his parents waved back.

Harry sat down hard on the floor, his vision blurring. These were his parents. His mother he had seen before in the Dursleys’ old photographs, but these were so much more. Lily’s vivacity blazed from every photo, and the joy in her eyes as she explored the world of magic reminded Harry so much of the young Muggleborns he used to know that he had to stop to wipe his eyes.

“She’s beautiful,” said Helena quietly. “And she has kind eyes.”

Harry could only manage a nod. He rubbed his eyes again and focused on his father. James’ skin was slightly darker than Harry’s, but the thick black hair and the shape of his features were identical to his own. In most of the photos he was accompanied by his friends, or Lily, and Harry smiled at the love that poured from every image. 

How different his life would have been if they had survived.

Harry could quite happily have sat and stared at the photos for hours. There was so much he didn’t know about his parents, and a quick glance through showed him that there were photos ranging from the start of their time at Hogwarts to their wedding, and even a few with Harry in, but the rest of the notebooks pulled him away. He reached for the top one, only to pause when Helena touched his arm.

“Harry. There’s a letter.”

Harry grabbed it, and smiled at its thickness. He scanned the first page. “It’s full of stories about my parents,” he whispered.

And not just that, he realised as he read further. The notebooks contained his father’s scribblings about pranks, his mother’s Potions and Charms theories, and everything that Remus and Sirius had been able to find about James’ culture. Harry paused to find those ones, and a lump came to his throat as he found himself looking at his father’s native language for the first time in his life. 

Helena, who had been reading over his shoulder, made a soft noise.

“I remember they all used to talk to each other in Tamil in their later years,” she murmured. “Nick always said it helped them get away with planning pranks in public.”

Harry’s snort of laughter was more of a sob, but Helena didn’t say anything. Another book was devoted to family recipes and descriptions of the sweets and snacks that Sirius and Remus had included, things like kozhukattai, murukku, cheedai, and pori, whose names Harry could barely pronounce but that were such an important part of his heritage that it made his chest ache.

“I never knew any of this,” he whispered. “How could I not know?”

If James had lived, Harry would have grown up with all of this. He would have grown up speaking Tamil and visiting India, and he would have been loved. Lily would have taught him Potions, and shown him how to love the Muggle world, not fear it. They would have been a family.

Voldemort taken that from them. Harry picked up the photo album again and turned to the very last page. His parents sat on the sofa, Harry asleep on James’ chest while he and Lily held hands, and they were so young. They were twenty-one. They should have decades more, and Harry’s smouldering anger crystallised into ice cold hatred. Maybe Voldemort was dead. Maybe he had already paid for the murders of Lily and James Potter.

But if he hadn’t, if he did still live…

“Salazar.”

The concern in Helena’s voice cut through the haze and Harry shook himself. “Sorry,” he muttered. He released his magic, and the wind that had been stirring died away. “I just…Things should have been different.”

He set the notebooks back in the hamper without waiting for a response and turned back to the letter. The bunch of stories he set aside for later, but the last lines of the letter itself made him pause.

We hope you are safe, and somewhere you can enjoy the holiday. Don’t hesitate for an instant if there is anything we can do you for you.

Happy Christmas, Harry

Remus and Sirius

Harry set the letter down in his lap. They hadn’t asked anything else about where he was or who he was staying with, and their respect for his privacy made him feel cautiously optimistic. They had also given him far more than he had ever expected.

Maybe they had earned a little more trust.

Harry took a shaky breath. He had people who cared about him, and Sirius and Remus had given him the best Christmas present he had ever received. This holiday was rapidly turning into the best one that Harry had ever had. Not that that was a high bar admittedly, but it gave him hope. If he only had his friends, things would be perfect. 

Harry shook his head sharply. Perfect was out of his reach, but this was wonderful. He unpacked the parcels of food and laid them out on the table the Room had helpfully provided. He had no idea what anything was, but he was looking forward to finding out.

Christmas had always been Susan’s favourite time of year, and so neither of her parents batted an eyelid when she retired to bed early on Christmas Eve. This time however, instead of getting ready for bed she gathered all her spare blanket and pillows and arranged them under her duvet until they formed a reasonable facsimile of a human body. Another blanket was scrunched up and placed on the pillow, and a burst of wandless Transfiguration turned it into a rough copy of her own head. It wouldn’t fool anyone who came into the room, but she knew from experience that her parents wouldn’t do more than glance in from the doorway to make sure she was still in bed. It would do.

There was nothing else to be done, but Susan found herself trembling. It had been so long. Nearly forty years had passed since she last saw Salazar. Forty years that they could have had together. Forty years where she had lived and Salazar had not.

Magic crackled in the air and Susan breathed it out. The glow faded from her skin, and Susan opened her eyes. The past was done. Salazar was alive and she was alive, and she would see him very soon. Her hands were still trembling, but she clenched them into fists and took a deep breath. She could do this. She focused her magic and vanished with a crack of Apparation.

Susan had been to Holgate Windmill many times, but this was the first time she had done so at night. Many of the other local landmarks would be too busy with Christmas celebrations at this time of year, but the windmill was closed and deserted, and slightly creepy if Susan was being honest with herself. She was only waiting a few minutes though before she felt a familiar prickle of magic. She flared her own magic, and a moment later a soft whisper came out of the gloom.

“Susan?”

“Here,” Susan called back, then Cedric’s pale face came into sight. He padded over to her, silent as ever on the damp grass, and took her hand.

“Any problems?”

“None,” said Susan. “You?”

Cedric shook his head. “I’ll never understand how Harry managed Surrey to Hogwarts in one jump. Devon to here was bad enough.”

Susan chuckled. Salazar had aways been the best of them when it came to Apparation. It was nice to know that that at least hadn’t changed. “Will you be all right to go straight to Hogwarts?”

York was closer than Devon, but it was still a good few hundred miles. Cedric though just grinned. “It’s for Harry. Of course I will.” He took her hand. “You ready?”

Susan thought about Harry and Hogwarts and smiled. “I’ve been ready for years.”

Cedric squeezed her hand, and the two of them willed themselves away. Susan felt the twisting distortion of Apparation give way to the warm embrace of magic, heard Hogwarts sing a joyful song of welcome, and then she was staring at a skinny boy with wild black hair and brilliant green eyes and fifty years worth of emotion exploded.

“Salazar!”

Harry froze in place for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, but Susan could feel the magic swirling around him. She took a step forward, and at the same moment Harry lurched up from the chair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Susan’s vision blurred. She pulled him into a desperate hug, and felt his arms wrap around her hard enough to hurt. “You died,” she sobbed. “Salazar…”

Further words were impossible. She clung to him while she wept for years lost and love left unsaid, and Harry trembled in her arms and his own tears soaked into her robes.

“I missed you,” she managed. “Every day.”

Harry’s grip tightened. “I missed you too. So much.” He drew back but didn’t let go, and through her tears Susan saw a shaky smile touch his lips. “But we’re here now, and this time I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Salazar had only ever broken one promise to her and it was that one, but Susan didn’t care. He was here now, and she would never let him go again. She pulled him into another hug, and relaxed further when Cedric’s arms wrapped around the two of them. She had Godric and she had Salazar. This was the best Christmas she had ever had.

Chapter Text

It was a while before either Harry or Helga were capable of talking. Even Cedric’s eyes were red from crying by the time they managed to pull themselves together. Harry felt wrung out and exhausted, but at the same time more full of hope than ever before. Helga was here. Everything was going to be all right.

Helga hadn’t let go of his hand since they had reunited. Harry had no intention of changing that. They settled on the sofa, close enough that their arms and legs touched, and with Cedric on Helga’s other side and Harry let himself bask in the presence of two of his dearest friends.

“I can’t believe it,” said Helga softly. “All this time, and you’ve been here.”

Harry leaned into her. “For the last six months anyway,” he said. He looked down. “Did…did Cedric tell you about my family?”

“They’re not your family,” said Helga, and Harry blinked at the steel in her voice. “Family don’t treat you that way.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Harry had to take a moment to swallow down the lump that came to his throat. “It doesn’t matter any more. I’m not going to see them ever again. I’m not going to have anything to do with them ever again.”

“Damn right,” said Cedric softly. He reached around Helga’s back to brush a hand through Harry’s hair. “And if anyone tried to make you, they’ll have to go through us.”

Helga gave a slightly vicious grin. “And my mother and aunt. Law enforcement takes a very dim view on child abuse.”

Harry made a soft noise of protest, and Helga frowned at him. “It’s true. You wouldn’t call it anything else if it had happened to someone else.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. That was fair enough. He forced himself to let it go, then frowned. “Your family are in law enforcement?”

“That’s right. Mam’s an Auror, and my Aunt Millie is the Head of the DMLE.”

It took a moment for Harry to place the name, and then he could only stare at her. “Your aunt is Amelia Bones?”

“Yep,” said Helga cheerfully. “I’m Susan.” Her smile faded as she looked at him. “So if I asked if you were all right would you give me an honest answer? Knowing that I could do something about it?”

Once again, Harry found himself lost for words. Susan met his gaze steadily, and her honest love and compassion left Harry breathless. He had missed her. He had missed her so much. He leaned into her, and took a deep breath.

“I’m better,” he said. “I’m safe here. I have Hogwarts, and the elves, and you. I-I just really don’t want to go back to them.”

“Then you won’t,” said Susan, and though her voice was mild the steel in it was unmistakeable. Cedric hummed agreement, and Susan continued, “I know no one can find you if you don’t want them to, but if anything does happen then I’ll talk to my family.”

Harry let out a long breath. “Thank you.”

If he trusted anyone to keep him safe, it was the people in this room. Susan relaxed a little, and turned a warm smile on him. “And hopefully it won’t be too long before you have something more permanent anyway.”

Harry’s heart leapt. Did that mean… 

Susan squeezed his hand. “Mam says Sirius Black sent in a statement,” she said. “Scrimgeour has been putting pressure on the Minister. The public are getting more and more interested. Soon they’ll be calling for a review of the case, and then everything will come out.”

“And they’ll realise that Sirius is innocent,” Cedric breathed. He bounced to his feet and started pacing. “This is fantastic! With Harry’s godfather a free man and willing to take him in, and Harry making his preferences known, they can’t send him back to the Dursleys!”

Susan nodded, dark eyes shining, but Harry hesitated. He couldn’t let himself hope. Not yet. “He might not be able to take me in,” he said slowly. “He’s been in Azkaban for years. He might not be ready for the responsibility.”

“Perhaps not,” said Cedric. “But we know how much he cares about you; we’ve seen his letters. He has Lupin too, and I know that they’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that he’s the guardian you deserve.”

He paused and crouched in front of Harry. “They want you, Harry. They care about you. And I think you’ll be happy with them.” His eyes softened. “You deserve that, Harry.”

Harry drew in a shaky breath. He wanted to believe them. He wanted to trust Sirius and Remus. But trust had never come easily, and with his position so vulnerable he couldn’t take risks. 

But…

Harry’s eyes found the hamper they had sent, with all the letters and journals and more links to his family than he could ever have dreamed of. Sirius and Remus were trying. They hadn’t let him down yet. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “I… We’ve still got time. I’ll keep writing. I…I think they will too.”

Susan leaned into him, and Cedric nodded approvingly. He followed Harry’s gaze. “It looks like they’re doing more than that. What’s all this?”

Harry had to swallow down a lump before he could reply. “They wanted me to know more about my parents. About my heritage.” He hesitated, but Susan’s grip on his hand and Cedric’s steady gaze leant strength. “My father was Indian. Tamil.”

Cedric’s face broke into a brilliant smile, but Susan was frowning. “You didn’t know before?”

Harry looked away. “I knew I didn’t look like anyone else in Little Whinging,” he said, and he couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from his voice. “Petunia never told me anything.”

Susan squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Her smile was decidedly forced. “I’m the only Black person in my primary school.”

Harry grimaced. It wasn’t a feeling he would wish on anyone. He wrapped an arm round her, and Susan leaned gratefully into his support. Cedric’s smile faded and he sat down by Susan again. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Susan shook her head. Her fluffy hair brushed against Harry’s cheek as she turned to look up at him. “I heard one of my great-uncles talking about the Potters. He was at Hogwarts when your grandfather moved back from India. Apparently their return caused quite the stir.”

Harry nodded, willingly seizing on the change of subject. He had only skimmed the journals detailing the Potter family history, but he could imagine that the return of an old pureblood family would have been noticed. Cedric snorted. 

“That must have been quite the dilemma for them. Old pureblood family with an excellent reputation, but Indian?”

His imitation of a pompous pureblood was perfect, and Harry had to laugh. Susan did too, but she sobered quickly. “Especially a family with money.” She glanced at Harry. “You do know your family had money, don’t you?”

“I’d gathered as much,” said Harry, with a nod. “I haven’t been able to access any of it yet. It’s not a priority,” he added, when both his friends frowned. “I have everything I need here, even a wand. Which reminds me; Susan, you should see if there’s one that works for you.”

Susan’s eyebrows shot up. “Who loses a wand?”

“That’s exactly what we said,” said Cedric dryly. He held up his two wands. “I’m not complaining though.”

Susan shook her head, but didn’t argue. Harry summoned the rest of the wands, and watched her look through them. She spent longer on the job than Cedric had; taking the time to examine the workmanship of each of the wands, and letting them speak to her magic. She had always had a better grasp of wandlore than he or Cedric had. Sparks danced along her dark skin as she waved one of the wands, and warmth spread through Harry’s body. He was so glad she was back.

A nudge broke him from his thoughts, and Harry looked up to find Cedric watching him. His friend leaned in to him.

“I hope you’re not going to waste this chance.”

Harry didn’t bother denying it. He shook his head, and Cedric smiled. “Good.”

His expression turned wistful as he looked back at Susan, and it was Harry’s turn to nudge him. “We will find Rowena.”

Cedric flinched. Harry sighed. “We’re here. She must be too.”

Nothing else made sense. Cedric gave him a small smile, then brightened as a shower of sparks burst from Susan’s wand. “What was that?”

Susan glanced back at them, a brilliant smile on her face. “Pear wood,” she said. “And unicorn hair, I think.” She flicked the wand, and the mess on the table vanished. “It’s not perfect, but it will do.”

“It suits you,” said Harry quietly. He recalled what little he’d managed to pick up of wandlore. “A wand suited for the wise, generous, and  pure of heart.”

Susan gave him a shy smile as she stowed the wand away in her robes. “You’ve been studying.”

Harry shrugged. “I need to keep busy while Cedric’s in classes, and there’s only so much cleaning one can do in a day.”

Susan pulled a face in sympathy, but then brightened. “Fortunately, my schedule is rather lighter.”

Harry’s heart leapt. Cedric grinned. “You sure you won’t be missed?”

“I will be careful,” said Susan, with a nod. “I did learn plenty from the two of you, and my family trust me.”

As much as the thought of Susan visiting regularly filled Harry with dizzying delight, Harry found himself hesitating. They were only nine, and Apparating so far on a regular basis would take its toll. Eventually someone would notice.

“That’s a long way,” he said. “I’m not saying don’t,” he added quickly, when Susan’s jaw set in the way he was very familiar with, “but we should think of some other way to communicate. It would help when you’re away too,” he said, glancing at Cedric.

Susan paused. “That would be a good idea,” she admitted. “Something like our rings, perhaps?” She grimaced. “Though we were never were able to work out how to communicate in full sentences.”

“It’s something we can work on,” said Cedric. “After all, we do have time on our hands. Classes aren’t exactly taxing at the moment.”

Harry snorted. Susan grinned. “My tutors think I’m a genius,” she said. “I can’t really tell them that I’m over a hundred.”

Harry stared. He had had no idea that she had lived so long in her first life. Cedric rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I had the same thing. My teachers don’t mind if I read ahead though, and Sprout mentioned finding more to do if I handled all that.”

Harry kept quiet. He didn’t think it would help to mention that the Dursleys had paid no attention to his lessons, no matter what his teachers said. From the look his friends gave him they could guess the truth anyway, but both had the tact not to mention it. He rubbed the back of his neck, then his eyes fell on the hamper.

“I could ask Sirius and Remus,” he said slowly. “They mentioned that they and their friends were quite creative. They might have some ideas.”

“Good idea,” said Cedric immediately. He patted Harry on the head. “They’ll appreciate you reaching out too.”

Harry ducked away with a scowl, but didn’t bother trying to flatten his hair. Susan was openly grinning, and Harry let himself drink in the sight. He had missed her so much. Cedric looked between the two of them, his grey eyes fairly glowing with delight, then glanced at his watch.

“Look, I’d really love to stay, but I should get back home. Mum doesn’t usually sleep through the night, and I don’t want her to realise I’m gone.” He slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “But I’ll be back before the holidays are over.”

Harry leaned into the comfort. “Thank you.”

The words encompassed so much more than just that promise, and Cedric squeezed him tight in acknowledgement. He waved Susan over, and pulled her into the hug too. “And I won’t be forgetting you. Dad’s delighted that we made friends, so I’ve got an excuse to write, and I bet I can work that into an invitation before the week is out.”

Susan laughed. “I’m not taking that bet. Mam and Dad won’t take much convincing, they want me to make more friends.” Her dark eyes sparkled as she looked at Harry. “I don’t think they were expecting Harry Potter though.”

Harry grinned. Cedric chuckled, and gave them both one final hug before reluctantly disentangling himself. “I’ll see you both soon. Harry, stay out of trouble.”

“Why aren’t you telling Susan to stay out of trouble?” Harry protested.

“Because I don’t need to,” Cedric pointed out.

Susan folded her arms. “I could get into trouble if I wanted to. Have you seen how many new species of dragon they’ve discovered in the last thousand years?”

Cedric burst out laughing. “Remind me to introduce you to Charlie Weasley,” he said. “He’s mad about dragons. He’s planning to go and work on one of the reserves when he finishes Hogwarts.”

Susan’s eyes went very wide. Harry shook his head. Nearly being eaten by one dragon was quite enough for two lifetimes. Still smiling, Cedric clapped him on the back, and ruffled Susan’s hair. “Have fun you two!”

With that, he turned on his heel and Disapparated with a dull crack. Susan sighed and sat back on the couch.

“I’ve really missed this.”

Harry smiled at her. “Me too.”

Susan’s smile softened. Harry’s heart lurched as he looked at her. Their eyes met, and Harry shifted his weight.

“Helga-”

“Salazar-”

They broke off at the same time. Harry felt his cheeks heat up, and Susan gave an awkward giggle. “Sorry.”

“Me too,” Harry mumbled.

There was an awkward pause as they looked at one another. Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again, and instead sat down on the edge of the sofa. This time he sat so that he could look at Susan, and she shifted too, pulling up her legs so she could curl up. 

Harry swallowed. There was so much he wanted to say. There was so much he needed to tell her, so much he never got a chance to tell her in their last lifetime. He couldn’t let that again. Helga deserved better than that.

Salazar had been renowned for his silver tongue, but when it came to this? He didn’t even know where to start.

But this was Helga. She deserved better. For her, he had to try.

“Salazar.”

Harry blinked up. Susan was still watching him. Her deep brown eyes, so different to the blue of her first life and yet filled with the same warmth and compassion, met his, and Harry’s fear drained away. This was Helga. He trusted her with everything he was. There was nothing he couldn’t say to her.

“Yes?”

“Are you…Is everything all right?”

Harry took a breath, and let it out very slowly. “I…Yes. But there’s something I need to tell you.”

He held out his hand, and was relieved when Susan took it without hesitation. She squeezed his fingers gently. “You can tell me anything, Salazar,” she said softly. “Anything.”

Harry’s throat was bone dry. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he swallowed, but Susan’s eyes and grip were grounding and Harry drew on all the courage Godric had taught him.

“I… Before. I meant to tell you, but I never got the chance.” He paused, and had to swallow hard. “I like to think I would have told you, if I’d had more time.”

“It’s all right, Salazar. Tell me now.”

Blood was pounding in Harry’s ears, but all that mattered was Susan. “I couldn’t say it before, but, I love you.”

Susan’s eyes went very wide. Harry couldn’t look away. “I love you,” he repeated. “For so long, but I didn’t know… I didn’t think…”

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but Susan’s grip tightened on his fingers as understanding filled her face. “Oh, Salazar,” she breathed. She reached forward to cup his cheek. “I love you too.”

Warmth exploded in Harry’s chest. Susan blurred in front of him, and he heard her choke out a sob before she pulled him into a crushing hug. “I loved you for so long,” she whispered. “I thought…I thought you considered me a friend. A dear one, but…”

“I thought I did too,” Harry whispered. It was easier to speak like this, when he could just hold her. “I had never loved anyone like that before. By the time I realised what I felt was different…”

Susan made a soft noise of understanding. “By that time I thought friendship was all you wanted.” A watery chuckle escaped her. “And to think we used to laugh at Godric and Rowena.”

Harry snorted. Reluctantly he pulled back, and rubbed his eyes enough to focus on her. She smiled back at her, her own face as tearstained as his, and Harry let out a shaky breath. “I love you,” he said. “I think I always will.”

This time Susan was the one to hold out her hand, and Harry took it immediately. She was silent for a moment, but when she looked up her smile took Harry’s breath away. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years. I don’t think anything is going to change.”

Harry couldn’t speak. He had spent decades thinking he would never hear those words. He had never believed himself worthy of it, but Susan, Susan did, and he trusted her judgement more than anyone he had ever met. He smiled at her, heart overflowing with joy, and Susan’s answering smile was so bright that it took his breath away.

They had wasted so much time in their first life.

Harry shook himself out of the memories and regrets. They had been given a second chance. They wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. Susan let out a long breath, and when Harry looked back her smile had faded. Harry squeezed her hand.

“Helga?”

Susan hesitated a moment, then sighed. “I do love you,” she whispered. “And that is why I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

Susan looked back, and Harry’s heart clenched at the pain in her face. “Please be careful,” she said. “I can’t… You died, Salazar.”

Harry swallowed. He’d been avoiding thinking about his own death, and trying even harder to avoid the effect it must have had on his friends. Susan’s hands were shaking.

“You died alone, and we were left behind. I don’t…I can’t do that again, Salazar.”

A lump filled Harry’s throat. He had to swallow hard before he could reply, “I’m sorry. I never wanted to leave you.” He took a deep breath, and sat up straight. “I promise that I will be careful.”

That was as much as he could do. He might not be a Dark wizard hunter in this life, but he was the Boy Who Lived. Even if Voldemort wasn’t dead, there were still plenty of his followers around. Harry was used to being a target, but the expression on Susan’s face made him pause. 

He had never been good at looking after himself, but he had never wanted to hurt her.

“I’ll try,” he promised.

Susan let out a long shaky breath. “Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. “I know you won’t stop fighting, and I would never ask you to, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know,” said Harry quietly. “I’m working on it,” he amended, when Susan quirked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t want…I’d like to avoid that end this time.”

Susan flinched at the thought. Harry swallowed, and shifted so that he could wrap an arm around her. “Sorry.”

“So am I,” Susan whispered. “You deserved so much better than that.”

For a long minute they sat in silence. Harry felt the memories of his ambush at death burning at the edges of his mind, and forced himself to focus on Susan. Susan was here, she was safe, and she loved him. It was more than he had ever thought possible.

Susan stirred in his arms.

“This time will be better.”

Her voice was quiet in it, but it held the same core of steel it had had when she voiced her desire to build a school for all magical children. Harry drew on that strength, and nodded.

“It will. We will make it better.”

Susan twisted to smile up at him. “All we need now is Rowena.”

“We will find her,” said Harry. “She has to be here somewhere.”

She had to be, and she had to be around their age. It was the only thing that made sense. She would come to Hogwarts soon. Susan nodded, but there was a gleam in her eye that made Harry pause.

“What are you thinking?”

Susan straightened. “There are three of us here now. Three of us, and Hogwarts. I think we can do more than just wait for her to come to us.”

A fission of excitement raced through Harry’s body. Susan leaned forward, her dark eyes burning into his. “I think we can find her, Harry.”

Harry let out a long breath. He didn’t know if they could do that. He had no idea where they would even start. There was no telling if it was even possible.

People had said the same things about a school for magical children.

Harry looked back at Susan and smiled.

“We do have time to work on it.”

Susan’s answering smile lit up the room. Harry closed his eyes and basked in the sense of rightness. Helga was back. She loved him. Anything was possible now.

Chapter Text

Cedric waited with bated breathing for his mum to make her decision. Her face was very stern as she paced up and down, but when she looked back there was a familiar twinkle in her dark eyes.

“You won’t go too high? Or too fast?”

“No,” said Cedric. “I’ll be careful, promise.”

Mum’s lips twitched, and she nodded. “All right, but I expect you back in time for tea.”

Cedric beamed, and bounced to his feet. “Thank you!”

His mother’s laughter followed him as he raced through to the back of the house. The old, but well looked after Silver Arrow his grandfather had given him hung from its hook, and Cedric felt it shiver in its hands as he lifted it down.

“I know,” he told it. “It’s been much too long.”

The new brooms at Hogwarts were great, but there was something special about his own broom. His parents had looked after it well while he was gone, but Cedric still checked it over carefully. A lifetime of fighting had taught him caution, and it was a good habit to get into besides.

By the time he was happy, his mum had packed him an appropriate selection of sweets, and a note for Mrs Weasley. Cedric settled his rucksack on his back, kissed her on the cheek, and shot off into the sky.

Cedric loved flying, in any weather and for any reason, but being on his way to spend a day with his friends on a clear winter morning was something special. He hadn’t seen any of the Weasleys since they had broken up for the holidays, and while it had been good to be able to concentrate on Harry and Susan he had missed the Weasleys too.

It wasn’t far to the Burrow, especially by air, but Cedric’s hands were soon numb with cold. A Wandless Warming Charm helped though, and the beauty of his surroundings more than made up for it. He couldn’t wait to show this to Harry and Rowena one day. They might even be able to coax Susan onto a broom. He smiled at the thought, and it widened when the Burrow came into view.

Someone must have spotted him, or his mum had called ahead, for red-heads were pouring out into the garden as Cedric started his descent. He landed in the garden, and barely had time to get his balance before Fred was thumping him on the back.

“How’d you get your mum to let you fly here?”

“I’m trustworthy,” said Cedric with a grin, and laughed when the twins gave identical explosive snorts.

“Jammy git,” said George. “Mum won’t let us fly in the orchard without Charlie there.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she knows you,” Charlie pointed out. He reached over Ron’s head to shake Cedric’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Cedric.”

Cedric smiled at him. Charlie was a sixth year now, and Quidditch Captain, and one of the most popular students at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t changed at all. “You too. How’s the studying going?”

Charlie pulled a face. “Nope. We’re not talking about school on my day off from revising.” He squinted up at the clear sky. “I know you just only just got here, but I don’t know how long this weather’s going to last, so if we want to get a game in…”

“Sounds good,” said Cedric quickly. “Give me a minute though, I need to say hello to your mum.” He glanced round and frowned. “I’m guessing Percy’s upstairs, but where’s Ginny?”

She normally would have jumped on him by now. Charlie chuckled. “She went over to see Luna. She’ll be sorry she missed you.

Cedric smiled. “I’ll visit again before we go back to school.” He turned towards the house, and spotted Ron hovering at the edge of the group. “Hi Ron. You ready for Quidditch?”

Behind him Fred sighed, but Ron lit up. “Yeah! I’ve been practicing really hard!” He bounced on his toes. “And Percy got a new chess set for Christmas so I got his old pieces.”

“We’ll have a game later,” said Cedric, with a nod. 

Ron beamed at him, and Cedric stamped on Fred’s foot without looking at him. Fred grumbled under his breath, but Cedric left George to handle him and slipped his rucksack off his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Mrs Weasley was bustling around the kitchen and Cedric smelled scones in the oven before he even opened the door. Tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding drained out of his shoulders. The Burrow had practically been a second home for the last eleven years, and he had spent a lot of time in this kitchen.

Harry would love it. He had never had a big family. Cedric pushed that thought firmly to the back of his mind, and pulled open the door.

“Good morning, Mrs Weasley.”

He was promptly engulfed in a floury hug. “Hello, dear. I hope the flight over wasn’t too cold.” She pulled back and gave him an appraising look. “At least you had the sense to wear gloves.”

Cedric smiled. “Mum wouldn’t let me leave without them. Oh, and she made these for us.”

He handed over the bag of sufganiyot, and Mrs Weasley beamed at him. “How wonderful, thank you. I’ll send you back with some of these scones you like.”

“Cedric, come on!”

Cedric winced at the yell from the garden, but Mrs Weasley’s eyes sparkled. “You run along and play now, dear.”

He should have bristled at being talked to like that, but it was hard to get annoyed with Molly Weasley. Besides, he did want to play Quidditch. Cedric grinned at her, and dashed back out into the snow.

“I’m here,” he called. “What are the teams?”

“Cedric’s with me!”

Cedric swallowed a laugh with an effort as the twins glared at each other. Fred’s eyes narrowed. “I said it first.”

George glared back. “We said it at the same time,” he growled. “And he was on your team last time.”

“Was not. You’re thinking of the time last summer-”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I’m talking about-”

“You’re the stupid one if you can’t remember that-”

“Stop that,” Charlie snapped. The twins switched their glares to him, but Charlie just folded his arms and scowled back. “We’ll swap the teams around after each match. Cedric, you’ll be with me first.”

“Sounds good,” Cedric agreed.

Fred and George looked momentarily crestfallen, before exchanging identical grins. “Fine,” said Fred. “But don’t complain when we win.”

“I can promise you that we won’t,” said Cedric solemnly, but even as he said it he found his eyes drifting to Ron. The younger boy was watching them with wide eyes, but the slump of his shoulders betrayed his resignation. He sighed and started to turn back towards the house, and Cedric’s heart clenched.

“Are you going to play, Ron?”

Fred frowned, but Ron looked like Christmas had come round again. “Really? I can play?”

He turned to Charlie, and Cedric saw his resistance evaporate under that hopeful stare. Charlie chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair. “Why not? The more the merrier.” He cocked his head to one side. “It makes the teams uneven, but we’ll cope.”

“Because having the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain on one of them didn’t make it uneven at all,” said Cedric pointedly.

Ron hastily turned a snort into a cough. The twins didn’t bother hiding their cackles, but Cedric kept his most innocent expression in place as Charlie peered at him. “Are you sure you’re a Hufflepuff?”

“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” said Cedric firmly.

Charlie looked at him, his gaze turning appraising. “Yes,” he said. “I think you are.” He flashed a sudden blinding grin, and chucked the Quaffle to Ron. “Come on then. Let’s get moving before the rain hits.”

Cedric grinned and grabbed his broom. It was going to be a good day.

Alastor was not having a good day.

For a start, he hated winter. The cold made his stump ache and the remains of his nose throb, and snow and ice were a pain in the arse to navigate. Add to that all the idiots that came out around the holidays, and Alastor was ready to sleep until spring.

If he was having a bad day though, Scrimgeour’s was going even worse.

“How did they get hold of it?”

Alastor shrugged. The Ministry was as leaky as a sieve, and the Auror Department was no exception. Scrimgeour glared down at the front of the Prophet, where Sirius Black’s personal statement was printed in full in their most impressive font, and slumped back into the chair.

“The mail room is already full of letters of protest,” he said. “The public were angry enough about the lack of a trial, and now this…”

He trailed off with a scowl. Alastor grimaced. “Black always did have a way with words.”

He had heard enough from Minerva to know that, but even he had been surprised by just how eloquent the statement was. Persuasive was an understatement. Scrimgeour gave a thin smile.

“It’s probably a good thing,” he said. “Fudge was already bowing under the weight of public opinion. I won’t be surprised if he skips the trial altogether and goes straight for the pardon.”

Alastor bit back a comment with an effort, Scrimgeour was well aware of his opinions on Fudge, and focused on the matter at hand. “Wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He’s been on the run long enough.”

Scrimgeous grunted. His hand dropped to massage his bad knee as he squinted up at Alastor. “Still no luck tracking him down?”

Anyone who didn’t know him as well as Alastor did would have missed the amusement in his eyes. Alastor just shrugged again. “He’s good, but I have some ideas.”

Scrimgeour sat back in his chair. “Maybe you should go and follow them up.”

Alastor smirked at him. “Try a heating charm on that knee,” he said. “Works wonders.” He pushed himself off from the wall and stomped towards the door. “Don’t murder Fudge before I get back.”

Scrimgeour’s snort of laughter followed him from the room, and Alastor smirked as he left the department and headed for the atrium. Being an Auror was a tough job, but at least his boss wasn’t one of his problems.

The usual horde of vultures were waiting in the atrium, but not even Skeeter tried to ask him for a comment. Alastor favoured them with a smile that made a couple of the younger ones blanche, then turned on his heel and Disapparated. 

There was even more snow in Birmingham than there was in London. Alastor swore under his breath as he made his way through to Lupin’s inconspicuous little terraced house. His mood improved slightly when he faint the faint crackle of static that indicated they’d finally put up some sort of protections, but when he thumped on the door there was no reply.

“Lupin,” he barked. “Open up.”

He knocked again, harder this time, and finally the door swung open to reveal a harried-looking Lupin. Alastor spared a moment to be grateful that Black had finally learned to stay out of sight before scowling. 

“What kept you?”

“Sorry,” said Lupin. “We were upstairs.”

He closed the door and hurried back up without another word. Alastor sighed and followed.

The house looked like a whirlwind had gone through it. Old books and papers were scattered everywhere, and Alastor spotted old toys and joke shop products underneath the dust. Black stood in the centre of the chaos going through yet another trunk, and he didn’t look up as they entered.

“They’re not here either!”

Lupin sighed. “I told you I haven’t seen them in years.” He picked up a battered Snitch, expression turning nostalgic. “I’d forgotten I’d kept this.”

“Focus, Moony,” Black snapped. “Where else could they be?”

“What the hell is going on here?” Alastor demanded.

Black spun round, wand appearing in his hand, only to trip on a sheaf of papers and hit the ground with a crash. Alastor rolled his eyes. “Your situational awareness is dreadful.”

Black scrambled to his feet and stuffed his wand back into his jeans. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want, Moody?”

“I asked first.”

Lupin stepped between them before an argument could ensue. “We heard from Harry again.”

“What? What did he say?”

Lupin smiled, and it made him look a decade younger. “He liked our Christmas present. I think he might be starting to trust us.”

Alastor gave a non-committal grunt, and Black huffed. “He’s not going to trust us if we can’t help him now. Why did you go and lose them for?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” said Lupin, rolling his eyes. “It’s not a disaster, we can make new ones easily enough-”

“That’ll take time, and Harry wants them now!” 

“What does he want?” Alastor asked.

Lupin sighed. “He asked if we knew of a way to communicate face to face.” He looked at Black, and when Black shrugged he continued, “When we were at school we had these mirrors. They were paired, so if you spoke into one the other person could hear you.”

“We used to use them in detention,” said Black. For a moment his expression was wistful, before the manic energy returned. “Now Harry needs them and we can’t bloody find them!”

Alastor had to take a moment to pull his mind back from the multitude of ways that that sort of communication could be helpful before he could reply. “How long would it take to make new ones?”

Black waved a hand. “A few days, once we get the base materials, but that’s too slow!”

“Sirius,” said Lupin with a sigh, “Harry doesn’t need them straight away. He asked if we had ideas, not if we could provide him with an instant solution.”

“I don’t care! It’s been years, Remus! I want to see my godson!” He paused, eyes gleaming. “I know where mine are.”

Lupin frowned, then his eyes widened and he shook his head. “You cannot break into Grimmauld Place!”

“Why not?”

“You were disowned, Sirius! If your mother sees you-”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Black spat. “Or Kreacher, or anything else in that hellhole.”

“Hold on,” Alastor interrupted. “Black, have you forgotten that you’re a fugitive?”

“I don’t-”

“And that your house is under surveillance?”

“So?” Black demanded. “I can dodge them easily enough. I broke out of Azkaban, didn’t I?”

Lupin let his head fall against the wall. Alastor took a deep breath and fixed Black with his fiercest glare. “You’re an idiot.”

Black flushed, but Alastor didn’t give him a chance to interrupt, “You’re going to get yourself captured or killed, and for what? A couple of mirrors that you can reproduce in a couple of days anyway?”

“For Harry,” Black snarled. “For all the times I let him down before.”

“Getting yourself hurt is not going to help Harry,” Alastor insisted. “You know that.” He took a step closer. “You’re burning up with the need to do something, but you’re not thinking. Harry needs you alive and free, not in prison, and definitely not caught up with your damned family.”

“But I have to do something!” Black exploded. He turned on his heel and started pacing, eyes flashing and voice rising higher and higher. “I abandoned him! He was stuck with those people for years, and he hated so much that he ran away to Merlin knows where, and I wasn’t there!”

“Sirius,” Lupin began, but Black silenced him with a look.

“I failed him,” he rasped, and the quiet devastation was worse than the screaming. “I failed him for so long. I can’t…I won’t fail him again.”

Alastor’s chest ached. None of this should have happened. Harry and Black both deserved so much better. He shifted, at a loss for how to help, and it was Lupin who stepped forward. He rested a hand on Black’s shoulder, and when Black didn’t react he gripped both arms hard.

“You won’t,” he said fiercely. “Neither of us will. But we can’t keep rushing into things, Sirius. We have to think about Harry first.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long minute. Alastor watched patiently, until finally Black sagged as if his strings had been cut. Lupin caught him into a fierce hug.

“I know,” he said. “We’ll find him. We won’t let him down again.”

Alastor gave them a minute before clearing his throat. “What do you need to make these mirrors?”

Black gaped at him, then a brilliant smile spread across his face. For a moment he looked like the young man who had fought alongside them, then he moved forward to grip Alastor’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Alastor coughed. “All right,” he said gruffly. “Least I could do.”

Both of them were looking at him in a way that made him very uncomfortable, and he cast about for a change of subject. The copy of the most recent Daily Prophet lying in the corner was as good as any.

“Your statement made an impact.”

Lupin followed his gaze and shook his head. “It’s the first time I’ve been glad that the Ministry is so unreliable,” he said dryly.

Black snorted, and Alastor nodded. “Press is having a field day. Wouldn’t be surprised if the Minister takes action soon.”

“Good,” said Black. His grey eyes glittered as they met Alastor’s. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Check.”

Cedric stared at the chessboard, then at Ron. “Huh,” he managed. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

Ron’s ears blazed red as he gave a shy smile. “Percy found a book on chess in the library and brought it home for me. It was interesting.”

“I can see you’ve learned a lot,” said Cedric. The game wasn’t unsalvageable, but it was going to be a bit more tricky than he was expecting. He moved his king out of danger, and winced when it cost him his remaining bishop. “That was a good move.”

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled.

His ears were still as red as his hair. Cedric grinned, suddenly even more glad than ever that he’d made the time for a game before heading home. The Weasleys were some of his favourite people, but Ron was unassuming enough that it was easy for him to fall through the cracks. Seeng him so happy was worth getting home a bit late.

Cedric did end up winning the game, but it was the closest he had come to losing in a long time. Ron pulled a face as he carefully packed his pieces away. 

“I’ll beat you next time,” he vowed. “I’m going to ask Percy to look for more books when he goes back to Hogwarts.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Cedric. He thought for a moment. “It might be worth checking the Muggle library in town too. Muggles play chess too, after all.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks!”

“No problem.” He ruffled Ron’s hair, and grinned when he ducked away the same way Harry did. “Maybe you should look into competitions. You’d definitely stand a chance.”

Ron ducked his head in a futile attempt to hide an even brighter blush. “Maybe,” he mumbled. 

He opened his mouth, then paused and closed it again. Cedric cocked his head to one side. Ron was as competitive as Charlie and the twins, and he would normally leap at a chance to prove himself, but his eyes were fixed on the chess pieces. Cedric chewed on his lip for a moment, but he couldn’t leave that alone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ron squeaked.

It would be more convincing if he managed to meet Cedric’s gaze. Cedric leaned forward. “Come on, Ron. You can talk to me.”

Ron nodded. He took a deep breath and looked up. “I just… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” said Cedric. “You can ask me anything, you know that.” He gripped Ron’s shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

Ron hesitated a moment longer, then took another breath. “When you were sorted into Hufflepuff, was it because you wanted to, or because your parents were there?”

Cedric blinked at him. Whatever he had been expecting, that wasn’t it. Ron shifted in his seat. “Never mind,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter.”

He started to push himself upright, and Cedric hurried to catch his arm. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I just hadn’t thought about it.”

Ron sat back with a small smile. Cedric considered his answer for a minute, then nodded to himself. He couldn’t tell the whole truth, but Ron wouldn’t ask for no reason and he deserved a proper answer. “A bit of both, I guess,” he said finally. “I knew it would make my parents happy, but I wouldn’t have gone there if I would have fitted in better somewhere else.”

Ron nodded slowly. Cedric studied him. “Can I ask why you were thinking about it?”

Ron shrugged. His eyes dropped to the king he was rolling around in his fingers, but Cedric waited and after a minute Ron’s shoulders slumped. “I thought you’d be in Gryffindor.”

Cedric had to smile. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “But I like Hufflepuff as much as I would have liked Gryffindor.”

Ron frowned slightly, but didn’t argue. He kept his eyes on the king. “Weasleys have been in Gryffindor for generations.”

Cedric let out a long breath as the meaning behind Ron’s questions became clear. “I’ve heard,” he said. “But you know you don’t have to go there if you don’t want to.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah, like the twins would ever let me live that down.”

“It’s not up to them,” said Cedric firmly. “And if they tried to give you any problems then I’d deal with it.”

Ron looked up at that, his eyes wide with surprise, and Cedric smiled at him. “You can go wherever you want, Ron. Even Slytherin, and don’t start with that ‘all Slytherins are evil’ nonsense,” he added, when Ron frowned. “You’ve heard about Pettigrew in the news, and he was a Gryffindor. Dark wizards come from all houses, not just Slytherin.”

Ron looked slightly taken aback by his fervour, and Cedric reigned himself back in with an effort. He knew he had feelings about this, and he didn’t want to make anyone too suspicious. Ron still didn’t look entirely convinced though, and Cedric sighed.

“Look, I’ve got a friend who is almost definitely going to be in Slytherin, and he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Just think about it, will you?”

Ron frowned, but he nodded. Cedric smiled, and ruffled his hair again. “I really should get going, but I’ll see you before we go back to school.”

“Okay,” said Ron. “Thanks, Cedric.”

Cedric smiled, and went to say goodbye to the twins. It looked like he had another project. If they were going to put an end to the destructive antagonism that had sprung up between their houses, then this was as good a place to start as any.

“We might have a problem.”

Harry tore his eyes from the Tamil dictionary he was paging through and blinked up. “What kind of problem?”

Helena floated down to eye level. She smiled slightly as she took in what he was working on, but her expression soon turned serious. “That prank you pulled on Professor Snape.”

Harry smirked at the reminder but Helena’s next words banished all traces of amusement, “He knows that none of his students could be behind it.”

“What?” Harry demanded. “How?”

Yes, it had been a new creation, but he had been careful. Nothing in that potion had been beyond the capabilities of a talented student, even one who hadn’t finished their studies. 

Except Salazar had known the capabilities of every single one of his students. If Snape was half the Potions Master Harry had heard he was…

Harry groaned and let his head fall onto the desk.

“What did I miss?”

A chill touched the back of his neck as Helena drifted closer. “You used liverwort as the catalyst. Various substitutes discovered in North America have been far more popular for centuries.”

Harry winced. He really should have thought of that. “I’m never going to live this down.”

“You’re not infallible, Uncle,” said Helena gently. “Not even you can absorb a thousand years of knowledge in six months.”

Harry managed a weak huff, but his mind was racing at the implications. If Snape knew that someone else was responsible for creating that potion they were going to have to be far more careful with the knowledge they displayed in class.

Well, Cedric would. Harry and Susan wouldn’t have that issue for a couple of years yet. He still should have known better.

“I got cocky.”

He hated to admit it, but it was true. He had been so determined to do something, anything to protect their students, that he had let his creativity get ahead of his common sense. It wasn’t a mistake he could afford to repeat.

“It’s not such a disaster,” said Helena. “They already knew that something was going on.” A wry smile touched her face. “You haven’t exactly kept a low profile.”

Harry snorted and raised his head to look at her. “Exorcising Binns and burning down the broom shed within the first months probably did stir some suspicions,” he agreed. “I expect Rowena will have something to say about that too.”

Helena’s smile faltered slightly at the mention of her mother, but she covered it quickly. “The Headmaster is looking into it. He’s asked all of us to keep our eyes open, and he’s been doing research into Hogwarts’ earliest records.”

“For all the good that will do him,” said Harry. Hogwarts wouldn’t cooperate, not when it came to them. The ghosts were a different matter, but Harry had had plenty of practice at dodging enemies. Not that the ghosts were enemies, but it was good practice.

Still, he would have to be careful. Cedric would need to be warned. Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

“Thank you. Will you tell me if you hear anything else?”

“Of course,” said Helena. She grinned suddenly. “This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

Harry burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. Helena looked absolutely delighted with herself, and the weight evaporated from Harry’s shoulders. It had been too long since he had last seen his niece look like that. Helena beamed at him, and arranged herself as if sitting on the sofa next to him.

“How are you getting on with that?”

Harry wiped his eyes and refocused on the notebooks. “Slowly. It’s a beautiful language, but it’s hard to learn from books.”

Helena nodded. “Well, with any luck it won’t be long until you can get lessons in person.”

Harry glanced at the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and smiled. Things were looking very promising on the godfather front, and he had received a hastily scribbled note from Sirius promising that they had a solution to his communication problems too.

Things were definitely beginning to look up.