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Chapter Text

"Why do you need to know?" Sirius Black asked, rather suspiciously.

"W-well I-" Peter Pettigrew began, but could not finish, and could not look his friend in the eye.

Sirius' shoulders slumped, and he sighed as he realised.

"It's you isn't it?"

"I- I-" Peter stammered.

"It's you! You're the bloody traitor! You actually thought I would ever give up Lily and James? You thought I'd be so stupid?"

Peter just stood there, stuttering and shaking, his lip quivering as though he had no idea where Sirius' anger was coming from, or why it was justified. And then a thought struck Sirius. A horrible thought that hurt deep within his chest, even more than his betrayal.

"You- you rat! You let us all believe it was Remus. You let us completely alienate him. Let us blame him because it was easy, and you stood by and did nothing!"

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking-"

"Bullshit!" Sirius spat.

He grabbed the smaller man by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to where the rest of the Order were gathered. There was a clear divide as nobody wanted to associate with who they thought to be the traitor, and nobody was talking. They weren't here to talk. They were here because Sirius was he Potters' secret keeper, and they needed to keep eyes on him should the traitor try to get information from him. Who knew slimy, traitorous gits could be so predictable? So when Sirius pushed Peter into the room, everybody looked up.

"It's him."

And then: chaos. The more accustomed wizards set to work containing Peter, but Sirius went straight to Remus.

"Moony. Moony, I'm so sorry. I should've known. I should've-"

Remus cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"You couldn't have known Sirius. But James and Lily need to know."

%%%

"Fuck!" Remus spat as he hit the ground.

As it turned out, waiting to tell James and Lily would probably have been in their best interest. As soon as they heard, the young couple wanted to be taken back to the rest of the Order. This was the worst idea. The five of them were swarmed by death eaters within minutes of taking to the skies. Curses were slung back and forth over and over. Until it stopped, and they fell.

"Lily!" James called out, "I think Lily was hit!"

"I wasn't!" came the redhead's near hysterical reply in the dark, "He was going for Harry. I tried to get between them. It hit him; it hit Harry!"

"He's alive Lily." Sirius, who had been the one to take Harry, called, "He's alive. But he's... he's hurt."

It took a few scrambled moments for them to find each other, though Sirius was the easiest to find, with Harry's sudden cries echoing as he supposedly regained consciousness. As said by his Godfather, Harry was very much alive, but not unscathed. A bloody wound ran across half his face spreading downwards from his forehead. The connecting lines were thin, painting a shocking, heart-shattering lightning strike across his face, but there was a lot of blood.

"How did he-" Lily began, taking her small son into her arms, trying to soothe him.

"It's over." Remus breathed, "Voldemort. He fell too. The death eaters ran off. He- he-"

Disbelieving silence fell over them, but before long, people had come to collect them, and the truth settled in their tired bones and aching heads.

Sirius sighed softly, "It's over."

Chapter Text

The entirety of the extended Potter family had known that Harry James Potter was absolutely a wizard practically his whole life. But that didn't mean it wasn't cause for celebration when Harry got his letter. In fact, quite the opposite. The celebration was done classic Marauders style, much to Lily's distress. But even she, by the end of the night, was completely and utterly involved in what Sirius and James had taken to calling 'festivities'. To be frank, Harry genuinely thought that maybe James and Sirius were more excited about him going to Hogwarts than he was, and that was certainly saying something considering he'd literally been counting the days since his ninth birthday, crossing off each day on he calender as it passed. But then... James was James, and Sirius was Sirius.
But whatever the reasoning for it, the morning after, when Harry insisted they had to get to Diagon Alley, it was only Lily and Remus who were fit to take him. Try as the other two might, they couldn't escape Lily's order to sleep their hangovers off, so maybe they could see without blinding headaches later. Not that Harry had any issues, just so long as there was somebody available to take him because his tiny body surely would burst if he got any more excited, and he still had September to stew on the fact that he was actually going to Hogwarts.
Lily and Remus helped him going into each store he required, except for Madam Malkin's. Harry insisted he would be okay on his own, while Lily went to chaperone Remus in investigating whatever he had spotted. He'd never been into Madam Malkin's before, but the woman was nice enough, going on to take his measurements, guessing correctly the school he needed uniform for. He wasn't alone in the shop however. There was another boy, pale-faced, with pointed features and stark blonde hair. Harry had his suspicions of who this boy might be, but not wanting to be wrong, or deny the boy his chance to differentiate himself from the things Harry knew about his maybe-family, Harry let him go on with the oncoming greeting that he could see written all over his face.
"Hello," he greeted, "Hogwarts too?"
"Yes."
"My father's next door buying my books, and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy drawled almost boredly, "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Definitely a Malfoy, Harry thought, his suspicion proven. He wanted to make a point that he had no chance smuggling anything into Hogwarts, let alone a racing broom. He didn't have his own yet. James had promised he would get him one when he made the Quidditch team ("there's no 'if' about it Lils!"), but until then, he would just have to use James' when he wanted to practise.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on, as though reading Harry's mind.
"No."
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"A little."
"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
The boy really seemed like a brat in Harry's opinion. It wasn't anything he would say out loud of course, but he couldn't help but think that this kid had obviously been brought up what his dad called 'typical pureblood fashion'. Harry had tried to point out that James was pureblood too, but he quickly stated that he meant the likes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Harry had silenced his arguments for that one.
Regardless. No matter his or even James' opinions, and no matter that this Malfoy seemed like a brat, Harry couldn't help but feel like he was someone he might be fond of. Like they might've actually made good friends. He decided to hold the boy's conversation.
"Well, both my parents were in Gryffindor, so I think that's a safe bet. But nobody really knows until they get there, do they?"
"I suppose not. I know I'll be in Slytherin though, all our family have been. I don't fancy being in Hufflepuff much though, do you?"
Harry just stared blankly, refusing silently to agree.
"What's your surname anyway?"
Harry figured he quite easily could have just lifted his fringe to show the boy his scar, a crack of violent lightning across his face. He kept his untidy hair longer at the front to hide it most of the time, because he found people treated him differently when they knew who he was. But he figured, just this once...
Before he could however, Madam Malkin informed him that he was done, and he hopped off the stool.
"I suppose I'll see you at school then."
Harry paused before leaving, chewing on his lip. Something inside him, burning, really wanted to make himself known to this boy, but he couldn't fathom why when most of the time he straight up refused to let anyone know unless it was absolutely required. But ultimately, he decided to give the answer the boy had wanted.
"Potter." He said, "My surname is Potter."
---
It turned out the Remus had found his way into a sweet shop, ogling over the selection of chocolate that they had, and ultimately returning with bags full of buys. Being Remus though, and probably the sweetest person ever to exist, there were actually only a few bars specifically for him, while the rest were hangover cures for James and Sirius, and treats for Lily and Harry. Harry rather happily licked at a lollipop as they wandered through the Alley.
"Someone's chirpy," Remus noted, through a mouthful of chocolate, "What happened."
"I met a Malfoy in Madam Malkin's." he replied cheerily, laughing as Remus almost choked.
"You what now?"
"He was a bit of a brat-"
"Harry!" Lily scolded.
"He was! But I didn't tell him that. He was trying to be nice though I think. I spoke to him nicely, I promise, and I uh... I told him my name... Then left before I could see his reaction."
Remus guffawed, choking again, and Harry couldn't help but join in.
"I'd say I can't believe anyone actually let Malfoy breed but he and Narcissa Black actually made a good couple. For an arranged thing I suppose."
"Well-" Lily sighed softly, "At least you were nice Harry. Better than your father was at your age," she glanced sideways at Remus, "And the others for that matter."
"Lily Potter!" Remus cried indignantly, "I'll have you know I was a delight."
"Yet you let me marry James." she chuckled.
Harry gave aa sly smirk up at her, "I'm telling dad you said that."
---
The last required thing the three got round to was of course Harry's wand. It was, of course, a given that they were going to take him to Ollivander's. He was renowned, and they trusted it would allow Harry a wand that understood him and would allow him to do the great things they had always believed he could achieve. They smiled warmly as each of their wand's were reeled off to them, and the small look of awe on Harry's face brought laughter from the both of them. And this began the spiral into destruction. Lily's face reddened with each denied wand, and really hoped Ollivander would not mind his beloved shop being temporarily torn to shreds as Harry struggled to bond with a wand. However, she needn't have worried, because with each wand that denied the young wizard, the wandmaker appeared to get more and more excited, until finally he place his hands on the counter, and proceeded to fall deep into thought.
"Sorry." Harry had muttered at this point.
"My dear boy," Ollivander shook his head, "Please don't apologise, this is the most fun I've had all week! I wonder if-" before he could finish his thought, he bustled off down the narrow path between towers of wand boxes.
Harry turned to Lily and Remus while the wandmaker was absent, and they replied to his anxious look with reassuring smiles, and he gave a nervous one back turned back just at the shop owner came back, clutching a wand box and suddenly looking quite solemn, giving the adults that accompanied him a half worried look. He said nothing to explain however, instead gently passing the wand to him over the counter. The moment Harry took it he knew it was his, even before the sparks flew and the applause came from his mother and Remus. Ollivander however remained solemn, ignoring when Lily placed the seven galleons on the counter, along with another three out of guilt for the destruction in the shop.
"Is something wrong?" Harry asked quietly.
"Your scar..." Ollivander began, and Lily instinctively placed her hand on her son's shoulder, "I assume you know how you got it?"
Harry nodded, looking over his shoulder to Lily.
"Forgive me," the wandmaker said, aiming the apology to the woman, "But his wand... the core is Phoenix tail feather. The Phoenix that gave it, gave a total of two."
Lily tightened her grip on Harry's shoulder and he figured she must have caught on to what the wandmaker was saying.
"It's a contentious thing, I'm aware, but the wand chooses the wizard. I hope you know I have no say in that."
"Of course," Lily nodded, "Of course, I understand."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." Harry called, as the three of them left the store.
As soon as they left, Harry wanted to bombard his mother with questions but figured she wouldn't talk. Instead he changed the subject.
"Anything else."
Remus squeezed Lily's shoulder when he thought Harry wasn't looking, and replied for her, "I think a trip to get you an owl is needed."
---
Later that night, when Harry was supposed to be in bed, Lily, Remus, James, and Sirius were sat in the living room, solemnly and almost annoyed talking. Harry really thought that they should have guessed he would sneak down and listen by the door, but they seemed too caught up in what was on their mind's to even think he was doing anything other than sleeping.
"So his wand shares a core with-"
"With his wand. Yes."
"And that means-"
"Their wands are twins."
"But he's gone so-"
"Nobody knows if that's actually forever, James. Besides, that's not really the point."
"What is the point?"
"Their wands are twins. That must mean that in some ways the two of them are similar."
"Prongslet is not evil, Lils."
"I know that Sirius. I just mean... he did terrible things. Absolutely horrific, obviously. But... but he was powerful."
"Harry already defeated him, when he was a baby, we already knew he was going to be powerful."
"That was accidental. Now he has his wand."
"He'll be fine, Lily. Just you wait and see. He's sweet, compassionate, and hasn't an evil bone in his body."
"I know... I just..."
"It's a reminder, guys, that's what makes this worrying," Remus spoke for the first time, "It's a reminded that You-Know-Who existed, and is the reason we've tried to keep Harry not so out in the open."
"Exactly."
"Twin wands or not, nobody else has to know that. Just us, and Ollivander."
Harry shook as he snuck back up to his bedroom, tucking himself up in the covers and laying there in the darkness, processing what he'd heard, and understanding it perfectly.
Nobody had to know, Harry agreed in his head, just mum, dad, Pads, Moony, Ollivander...
He rolled over, listening to the soft twittering of his new owl, Hedwig.
And me.

Chapter Text

   The journey to King's Cross station was crowded to say the least. The Potters (plus the uncles for all intents and purposes) joined the Weasleys for the journey considering what good friends the families were. Harry was very familiar with the Weasley children. He got on best with the twins, and he'd always had a sneaky suspicion that Lily and Molly had sort of wanted Harry and Ginny to hit it off, but he'd always known he and Ron would be in the same year, so the two of them were also very close, and it was him that Harry walked beside, talking to.

   "Fred and George won't tell me what the test is, to sort us into houses. They said it's like really painful or something but I don't think I believe them."

   Harry wanted to point out that he didn't think a school would be allowed to do something like that but then realised the school sport was one of the most dangerous out there, and also that he didn't know how they were sorted either, so didn't want to reassure Ron to then be accused of doing so falsely. But as it turned out, it didn't really matter so much, because the concern of a potentially painful sorting was quickly replaced with concern about running into a very sold looking brick wall.

   While Molly bustled about, reassuring the younger boys that it would be find, they could just watch the older Weasleys first, and to run if they were nervous, Lily and James just gave Harry warm smiles and James gave a soft 'go for it son'. And it turned out getting onto the platform was a lot easier than it sounded, and getting onto the actual train was the more difficult part. After getting all their luggage onto the train, Harry left the Weasleys temporarily to say goodbye to his family.

   "Write to us, Harry," Lily mumbled into his hair.

   "Everyday."

   "Everyday?" Sirius cried, "It's a miracle! I might cry..."

   "Don't go out of your way, Prongslet," Remus smiled warmly, "Once a week will be fine, you know that."

   And Harry did because this had been an ongoing conversation since it sunk in that going to Hogwarts meant being away from his family for pretty much the first time ever.

   "I know-" the whistle went, "I'll speak soon!"

   He hurried to hug them all again, and rush onto the train.

   "Make Gryffindor proud!" James called, before the train let out its last whistle and began to pull away.

   Harry regrouped with Ron and the twins by the  beginning of the compartments and stumbled down the narrow corridor as the train shuttled along. The twins ducked into a compartment a little way down as they spotted people they knew from their own year, leaving Harry and Ron alone when they found their own empty compartment. Harry let Ron go on for a couple of minutes about how much hassle that had been, and quietly agreed with him, before pulling out a battered pack of exploding snap cards that Sirius had slipped into his bag earlier that morning, and asking Ron if he wanted a game. It perhaps wasn't the easiest game to play in a train compartment, but it provided some fun for an hour or two. By which time, the general excitement of the train ride outside the carriages had died down enough that the Sweet Trolley was making it way down the train. Harry couldn't help but grin when he heard the rickety wheels of said trolley, because both James and Sirius had slipped him some money for some goodies, and Harry had been relieved to see that he had enough to also get some sweets for Ron, and even the twins, but it had of course turned out they had sat elsewhere. So when the trolley witch stopped at their compartment, Ron had started to say something, but had been drowned out by Harry hopping up and ordering a small bit of all the things both of them liked, and handing over the money.

   As Harry had sat down with the huge load, and began halfing it so neither would have to reach to get some of whatever they wanted, Ron simply looked in amazement at him.

   "You didn't have to do that Harry!"

   "No, but I wanted to. I saw what was in your sandwiches, and I know you don't like it. So-" he carried on moving things over to Ron's seat, "- I got some pumpkin pasties, because y'know, actual food. But then, chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts, um... droobles, some random lollies... Oh! I got you a liquorice wand."

   "I'll pay you back when I-"

   Harry shook his head, interrupting, "No you won't. It was sweet money. That's why I got it, and I bought sweets. I would share with you anyway, you know that."

   "Thank you." Ron smiled, then slowly his face cracked into a grin, and Harry's snicker sent them both diving into their piles of sweets until they could eat no more.

   It was around this time, a few hours into the journey, that the novelty sort of wore off, and they would much rather have just arrived. They were playing a half hearted game of mini wizards chess that Harry had gotten in a Christmas cracker a few years previous, and nibbling on the sweets they had left. It was also around this time that people in other compartments also seemed to be getting bored and every so often, a few would walk past theirs, looking for new people to sit with, or just to stretch their legs. One such group of people happened to be the Malfoy kid from Madam Malkin's, flanked by two huge goons that looked like they didn't have a brain cell between them. Harry was about to roll his eyes at the smug expression plastered across Malfoy's face, but stopped when his expression softened into one of shock, and what might have been a grin if Harry had been alone.

   "Potter." he half exclaimed, "Harry Potter."

   "That's me." Harry deadpanned, not sure where Malfoy was going with this.

   "It's nice to see you again. You rushed off so quickly before."

   "Yeah..." he blushed, suddenly feeling that might not have been his best idea considering he'd be at school with this boy for seven years, "Sorry about that. Habit I suppose. If I stick around, people ask me questions. I uh- I never got your name. Your first name."

   "Draco." the boy puffed out his chest proudly, then offered his hand to Harry.

   Ron spoke up before Harry could decide whether to take it or not.

   "You're a Malfoy aren't you?" He had a sour expression, and folded arms.

   "Yes." Malfoy replied, sounding curt, like he might throw an insult, but apparently second guessed, instead turning back to Harry.

   It was in that moment, that Harry decided that it wasn't fair for Draco to immediately be pegged as despicable just because of his last name, just like it wasn't fair to peg a baby as a saviour just because he somehow defeated a Dark Lord. It wasn't fair that either were judged before they were even know, and Harry suddenly felt very guilty for doing that very thing in Madam Malkin's. With part determination, and part impulsion, Harry reached for Draco's hand just as he made to pull it away, and gave it a firm shake.

   "Nice to formally meet you."

   Draco didn't hide his smile this time, and obliged with the handshake.

   "Was there any particular reason why you came to this compartment?" Harry asked, trying not to sound mean about it.

   The worst it seemed to do was embarrass him, and his cheeks turned a very pale shade of pink, and he dropped Harry's hand, taking a step back.

   "Not really. Just boredom. Well uh- we'll leave you to it."

   And with a wave of his hand, the goons behind him moved out the way so he could exit, and followed him back down the carriage. Harry didn't believe for a second that Draco had come in for no reason, but he wouldn't have pushed it anyway. What was the point really?

   "You didn't have to shake his hand," Ron grumbled irritably, "you could be cursed now, for all we know."

   Harry shrugged at first, and went to nibble on the tail of a jelly snake. But then it set in what Ron was implying, and the idea of a curse coming from just a handshake was so ridiculous, that Harry burst out laughing. And it did nothing to brighten Ron's mood.

   ---

   The students were met from the train by Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper, who Harry had met rather a few times, and was actually really fond of. The half-giant gave him a joyful wave when he spotted him, and Harry was pretty happy to be following him down to the boats - at least it was someone he knew, right?

   He was herded into a boat with Ron, a girl with sleek back hair who said nothing, and scowled, and a bushy haired girl who jabbered on about facts as the castle came into view and made Harry wonder which textbook she'd swallowed. 'Hogwarts: A History' by the sounds of it. To each their own, Harry supposed, but he personally had been more interested in skimming the Defense Against the Dark Arts books, and changing the description of werewolves in his copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. Any questions about Hogwarts had been answered during his childhood, so maybe the bushy haired girl was muggle-born. Maybe she'd be the next Lily Evans and pummel them all into the ground with intelligence. Harry didn't ask her name though, or really try to strike any sort of conversation with her. He quite liked his ears where they were thank you, and his eyes had enough to take in with the view of the castle without having to listen to her too. Because the castle had naturally been described to him on plenty of occasions, and he'd seen photos and everything, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment of seeing it for himself for the first time.

   All he had to do, was try not to get lost in it.

   The boat ride was over all too soon, and Harry stuck by Ron, though from the corner of his eye, he could see Draco trying to get closer to him, but doing so in a manner that made Harry think he was trying to do so subtly. It wasn't working. Not that it mattered much, Draco had to stop when they reached the top of a grand staircase anyway, because there at the top stood professor McGonagall and she was not someone to mess with. Harry had heard all the stories from his family to know that much, but as if it wasn't enough, he'd also grown up accustomed to the witch's presence. Harry had already prepared himself for the fact that he was mostly likely going to embarrass himself by calling her Aunt Min as some point during the next seven years, but he figured people would also catch on that it embarrassed her too, and would promptly shut up. That was his hopes anyway. There would be enough attention on his because he was that one kid who defeated Lord Voldemort and has a wicked scar to prove it, as if that was a valid reason to stare at him. He didn't need the fact that he obviously knew the deputy headteacher outside of school on top of that. They'd ask him all sorts, and he had learned the hard way that if you didn't give the answer people wanted, it could sometimes very quickly become nasty.

   After a brief introduction, and explanation of the houses and how they worked, the new students were told to stay put, and the Professor disappeared behind two huge doors that lead to the Great Hall. As soon as the door shut, awkward silence fell, as nobody was quite sure if they were allowed to talk, and most were too in awe to even close their mouths, let alone form words. Draco Malfoy took this opportunity to move closer to Harry, and although he didn't say anything, Harry came to the conclusion that perhaps he had just adopted a Malfoy as a friend, much like how James had adopted a Black as a friend. But it seemed unlikely that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor with him, so maybe it would more be a case of intermingling the houses. Hogwarts seemed to still have a problem with that. Either way, Draco said nothing, and when the silence began to get to him, the sorting was the only thing he could really think about.

   "So," he began, almost shakily, and no louder than any of the others who had also begun to mutter between themselves, "You still as confident as Slytherin as you were in Madam Malkin's?"

   "Well... what you said actually got me thinking. Slytherin is the most likely, but it's like you said. Nobody really knows until the sorting."

   "Oh don't worry," Ron cut across snarkily, "I don't think you have to worry too much."

   Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut in before he could.

   "I think what Ron means to say is that all your family before you will have been in Slytherin for a reason. Cunning, resourcefulness, those sorts of traits. And those are the sorts of traits they likely would have brought you up with. So you're probably right when you say you're likely to be put there."

   "That's not what I meant at all." Ron grumbled.

   Harry was quick to turn and hiss at him, "What's your problem? You don't have to be so mean to him you know."

   Ron's ears went red, and he looked like he was about to blow up with the whole speech about how Malfoys were bad news so surely Draco would be the same, but he never got the chance, because Professor McGonagall chose that perfect moment to come back out, and beckon them all into the Great Hall.

   Great Hall was perhaps, a minor understatement, considering the great bloody size of the thing. Harry could barely make out the faces of anyone of the other side, and the distance seemed only fifty times longer because the group of first years had to walk the length to the Professor's table. There, they stood before a battered looking three-legged wooden stool, on top of which sat an even more battered hat that looked as though it would break should anybody touch it. It was only when the brim of the hat split open into a mouth and the hat began to sing that Harry realised that of course this would be a magical hat, and it would take a lot more than wear and tear for it to be reduced to a pile of threads.

   Panic only really set in when McGonagall explained how the sorting worked and Harry realised that sitting in front of the entire school with an oversized hat on his head doing nothing but waiting for its judgement was actually more terrifying than what the twins had tried to sell to Ron. He waited anxiously for his name, incidentally taking a moment longer than everybody else to applaud when Ron was sorted into Gryffindor with his brothers.

   "See," Harry turned to Draco about to explain that he knew Ron had been brought up with Gryffindor values all his life, and that's the sole reason he was placed there, but the sound of his own name, accompanied by a sudden silence, then mutters stopped him.

   Gulping, and trying not to catch anybody's eye as he did so, he made his way up to the stool, sitting down carefully, and gripping the edge of the seat tightly, holding his breath as the hat was placed on his head and fell over his eyes.

   Harry Potter. Knew you'd be coming around sooner or later. Though I have to say, you're not as clear cut as I had expected you to be. Now, your parents, Gryffindor through and through, but you... where do I put you?

   "Well," Harry muttered, his mouth suddenly dry, "I'm not my parents, but I am their son. It's your job to sort, not mine."

   Hmm... You're smart, that's for sure, definitely brave. Desire here to prove yourself, but not entirely because of your name. You've a good mind here... you've certainly got potential. And I think I know just where to put you to unlock that. Yes... better be:

SLYTHERIN!

Chapter Text

   The silence had been deafening, and even as the glorious feast began, Harry couldn't help but still hear it ringing in his ears. He wasn't mad. He wasn't even upset. If the hat said Slytherin, then he was a Slytherin, that was simply how it sat in his mind, but he just couldn't shake the weird feeling. Because he had grown up surrounded by scarlet and gold, and convinced that he would be as such throughout his whole life, and now he had been thrust into a world of green and silver and it just felt strange. Then there was the case of Ron, who had been practically glaring at him whenever Harry caught his eye from across the hall, and that didn't really make him feel all so good. Draco had tried to talk to him a couple of times, and he hadn't been rude, but Draco had eventually realised Harry wasn't up for talking, and turned to speak with the black haired girl that Harry had been in the boat with, whose name he learnt was Pansy Parkinson, and she already knew Draco. He had barely nibbled the food, despite feeling actually rather hungry, which ended with him having to fill up quickly before desert, causing him to feel too sick to even consider desert. And when the time came to go to their common rooms, another jolt lurched in Harry's stomach, and he willed himself not to throw up.

   Harry picked at the skin around his nails the whole way down to the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was located. It was a bad habit that he had mostly gotten over when he was younger, but unfortunately came back when he was more nervous or stressed than what was normal. And he was both right now. The halls in the dungeons also weren't the most promising for the common room. They were cold, and dark, the lanterns doing seemingly nothing. Some of the bricks were wet, and Harry realised they must have been under the huge lake in the school grounds that they had sailed across and suddenly felt claustrophobic. At this point he pretty much expected the common room to be as dark, damp, and dreary as the rest of the dungeons and he wondered how anybody could feel anything other than unwelcome. Thankfully, although it didn't make him feel much better about everything, he was pleasantly surprised by the common room. Despite the colour combination that didn't quite sit right with him, the room was strangely beautiful. He might even have gone so far as to call it cosy. Bright green fires blazed in the fire places, licking the black marble looking bricks that made them. Dotted around were tables and chairs, and Harry could already imagine how sick the sight of them would make him after a few all nighters of studying at them. But the sofas and arm chairs looked comfortable enough that Harry almost wanted to head right over to them. Instead, however, he followed the rest of his house mates up to their dorms, and waited for his dorm mates to take their beds before following suit. Truth was, Harry felt completely out of his depth here, and wasn't quite sure how to deal with that. He felt only slightly better when Draco offered him a reassuring smile, because with it came guilt. He hadn't really been great company at dinner, had he?

   "Sorry," he muttered, which was met with a confused look, "At dinner. I wasn't-"

   "That's okay." the blonde said it as though he was doing Harry a great service by reassuring him, "No doubt it was a shock. You'll settle in in no time, I'm sure of it."

   Harry practically beamed, and gave a sincere thanks. After all, apparently Ron wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and if Draco Malfoy wanted him as a friend then he certainly wasn't going to complain.

   "So then," one of the other boys in the dorm suddenly spoke up, and Harry realised with a jolt that maybe not everybody would be as strangely pleasant as Draco, "The great Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, a Slytherin."

   Draco glanced sideways at Harry, no doubt looking for a reaction. He didn't have one.

   "Come off it Nott." Draco rolled his eyes.

   Theodore Nott - Harry remembered that name from the sorting, and now had the face to put to it. Not the most pleasant of faces, true, but a face nonetheless. That could only mean that the other guy in the dorm, who occupied the bed next to Harry, must have been Blaise Zabini - he remembered that name from the sorting too.

   "I'm just saying," Nott continued, "Like weren't your parents Gryffindor?"

   "Well, yeah... but-"

   He'd been about to mention how Sirius' whole family had been Slytherin but he'd been Gryffindor, but given the example was the opposite way round, he didn't think Nott would care all that much.

   It was just easier to let it go.

   "I'm in Slytherin. That's all there is to it."

   Nott seemed to think about that for a minute, before shrugging and resigning back to his bed. Harry caught Draco giving him an impressed sort of look, and he smiled back but didn't pretend to understand the meaning of the look. Maybe he would've struck up another conversation but by now, exhaustion - physical and emotional - was seeping between his bones and he still needed to write to his family. James had insisted he write immediately to tell him how instantly amazing it felt to be a lion, and Harry hated to think of the shock it would be that would never know. And somehow he didn't think James would be quite so interested to learn how it felt to be a snake.

   His mother would. Lily, too, would be shocked, but she would make sure he was okay, and drill it into his head that she loved him no matter what, and his house as school was not going to change a thing. Remus would too, and for all his joking, Sirius would likely be the most supportive because this was of course the exact mirror image of the situation he'd been in, minus the overly traditional family. He couldn't say he was exactly eager for the reply but the longer he put it off, the more nervous the whole thing would make him. By the time he had finished the letter, and send it off thanks to Hedwig's apparent psychic abilities telling her when she was needed, everybody else was asleep. Or so he thought.

   "Hey, Potter." Draco hissed just as Harry had closed his eyes.

   "Yeah?"

   "You'll like it in Slytherin, I'm sure. We're not as bad as everyone seems to think."

   And as he laid there in the dark, Harry smiled, because maybe - just maybe - Draco would be proven to be right.

   ---

   By breakfast the next morning, Harry was aware of two things. Number one was something he probably should've learnt the previous night but had managed to slip his notice, and that was that Severus Snape was the head of Slytherin house. Harry had only really met the man once or twice, because his extended family had history with him, and Harry had always thought Snape didn't exactly like him too much, and he had no doubt that was because of his father. He had known somewhere in the back of his head, that Snape worked at the school but it had slipped his mind and had only resurfaced when he heard some of the older year students talking about him. He figured all he could really do was hope Snape wasn't too harsh, and while he didn't agree with the favouritism that older students said he had for Slytherin, Harry also didn't fancy being the only one in his house to be treated like something on the bottom of his shoe.

   Number two was proof that his family were the absolute best he could ever hope for. Well... most of them anyway. Among the owls that delivered post that morning was Hedwig, carrying a rather thick letter. He fed Hedwig some toast as he opened it, and upon seeing that the envelope contained three separate letters, Harry initially assumed one would be written by both his parents. He was wrong. There was one from Lily, one from Remus, and one from Sirius. James had sent nothing and that in itself put him on edge, which only worsened as he read the letters. As suspected, Lily's consisted of multiple ways of saying the same thing: she loved him and his house didn't mean jack to her, because he was her son, and if he was in Slytherin then goddamnit he was going to be the best Slytherin there was. She explained that James was having a hard time processing it, because he had gotten himself a little too fixated on the idea of Harry being in the same house as him, but he'd get over it eventually and Harry needn't worry about it. Remus' letter followed a similar route. Telling him he was accepted as a person not what house he happened to belong to, and he apologised for all the jokes he had made with the others about Slytherin and that they were purely from their experiences with the Slytherins in their year, but that Harry was sure to make some excellent friends. After all, Slytherin also prided their loyalty to certain people they deemed worthy of it. He also assured Harry that James was just being an absolute prat, and if he didn't come round, Remus would personally slap him because how dare he do something that could make Harry feel like shit, and Harry didn't question it because Moony had always had his sneaky ways to know how Harry was feeling and what sort of things affected his mood.

   But it was Sirius' letter that he had been absolutely wrong about. He had expected jokes, and gentle teasing sent his way, but the whole thing was just sombre and serious, and Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so serious. He appreciated it though. Merlin, how he appreciated it. It almost made him cry, just the understanding that seeped from the ink on the parchment because he felt so alienated, like he had disappointed not only his family, but the whole of the wizarding world that saw him as this great hero and now he was in the same house as the wizard who had forced him into that position, and it hurt that his father hadn't been one of the first to stand by his side, proud anyway, and reassure him that his house meant nothing in the way of his personality, and the type of person he would grow to be. Lily, Remus and Sirius had never even left, but while he couldn't express how grateful he was, it just wasn't the same as having all four. He hoped they were all right. About James coming round, because some bitter voice in the back of Harry's head muttered what sort of father would he be to make an alien of his son just for some stupid house, in some stupid school, that meant nothing in the great scheme of things.

   The letters went into his robe pocket, and they stayed there the whole day. And through all the awe, and the sheer unknown of the school and all the lessons he attended during that hectic first day, not once could he fully take his mind off the letters. His hand remained in his pocket holding them when walking between lessons, and at mealtimes, and Harry was just glad that Draco, and Pansy (who knew Draco better than he had initially thought, and had consequentially meant Pansy had rather accidentally become his second friend) didn't say anything to him about them. He figured they must have noticed because it wasn't as though it was some huge secret but whatever the reason for their ignorance, he was grateful.

   It was dinner before he actually took them out of his pocket though, and even then it was actually only Sirius' that he pulled out, and he read the words again, and again, revelling in the understanding it portrayed.

   Dear Prongslet,

   First of all, ignore your dad. Ignore his stupid strop, and his absolutely unacceptable way of dealing with this. He's acting pathetic, and take my word for it, he will be hearing about that non-stop from me.

   There is absolutely nothing wrong with you being in Slytherin. Do you hear me? Nothing. You are just as loved and appreciated as before. You are still respected. You are still the exact same person, and you have the exact same views, and morals, and opinions, and you are not going to be treated any different for something so trivial. I refuse to let you be treated how I was. Not my nephew. You have my full permission to hex anybody that gives you shit, because you are not evil, your house is not evil. I make some cruel jokes, and I am so sorry if they're now affecting you. The truth is, it just happened that the people I didn't like in school were Slytherins, and my family were Slytherins and it tainted my views, but it's not an excuse.

   You are who you are, and you're an amazing, brilliant boy, and I will say it over and over, watch me, that the colour of your tie, the table you sit at, the people you're around don't make the blindest bit of difference to how much I love you. To how much we all love you. Your dad is being a complete ass right now, but he thinks the world of you. We all do.

   Don't you think for one second that this is something bad, okay? I know you, Harry Potter. I know you, and if you let yourself think for one second that this is a disappointment to us, you're wrong, and I'm going to restrict motorbike rides until you get it.

   Now you get yourself out there, and be the absolute best punk rock snake there is, understand?

   All my love,

      Your favourite Godfather ~

Chapter Text

   Harry was extremely relieved to find that everybody was pretty much at the same level when it came to lessons. Even those, like him, with a magical upbringing didn't surpass those who were muggleborn. In fact, there was one muggleborn - the bushy haired girl who'd shared the boat with him and Ron - who despite having no idea magic existed until her letter arrived, seemed to have such a grip on it, that she put everyone else to shame. Draco and Pansy were both rather ruffled about this, often joking about how she was supposed to read the textbooks, not eat them, but Harry cared very little for joining them, despite that he had thought the exact same thing before. The difference, however, was he hadn't said it aloud. Perhaps she really would be the next Lily Evans, and if that was the case, there was no way he'd stoop to ridiculing her.

   Unfortunately though, Harry's first week at Hogwarts was not the week he was able to stop the others doing so, as he ended up having rather enough on his mind to think about without seeing how quickly he could get his new friends to dislike him.

   He was filled with a sense of dread the moment he entered his first Transfiguration, as he realised that Professor McGonagall was as good as family, but much like the rest of his family had expected him to be in Gryffindor, and now? Where did he even stand at this point? He wasn't in her house like he had always expected to be, so what did that mean for how close they were? For how they'd known each other his whole life? Suddenly he felt infinitely more determined not to slip up with what he called her in school, because somehow it meant so much more now.

   He spent the whole lesson doing his best to keep his head down. Take down his notes, and attempt the task at hand quietly and avoid eye contact. Pansy nudged him and asked him why he was suddenly so quiet, when he'd been perfectly happy laughing and joking that morning in excitement for the day's lessons. All he could muster was a weak 'I'm fine' followed by a promise to tell her later when she gave him an unconvinced look. She dropped it, thankfully, and Harry went back to making what was supposed to be a needle from a match, but was actually just a silvery coloured match with an eye through the head. He sighed defeatedly each time, but kept hope because at least he wasn't the only one. In fact, the only person who fully succeeded was the bushy haired girl, who Harry finally learned was called Hermione something-or-other. Draco came pretty close though. In fact, his match completely resembled a needle, but was incredibly warm to the touch and spontaneously lit on fire at one end. Harry hadn't been able to hold back his laughter when it singed the edge of Draco's robe sleeve.

   However, his dread worsened and wiped any smile clean off his face once the lesson ended and Professor McGonagall called him over. It was only made worse by the fact that she had gone to call him 'Harry' but had caught herself last minute and referred to him as 'Mr. Potter' instead. He was embarrassed to admit that he panicked, leading to him urging Draco and Pansy to wait outside for him, which they did but not without a look of confusion.

   "Professor?" he greeted, sounding about as nervous as he felt.

   "What, no 'Aunt Min'?" she joked gently, but Harry could tell she was maybe just slightly saddened by it.

   "Well I-"

   "You thought you'd forfeited rights to call me as such?"

   Harry gave her a look, partially conveying confusion, partially guilt because of course she hit the nail on the head.

   "You are so like your father, did you know that? Your silly little insecurities. You should have seen him around your mother in the last years of his school career. He-"

   "Sorry-" he interrupted suddenly, "I just... I'm not sure my dad would really appreciate admitting that I'm anything like him at the minute."

   He looked down and scuffed the toe of his shoes on the floor, pretending not to hear McGonagall's small sigh, and almost kicking himself when he jumped at her hand on his shoulder.

   "Your mother wrote to me too Harry. Your father is not taking this well, I admit, he convinced himself you would be in my house, and it's just going to take a little while for him to adjust to the reality of it. But that doesn't mean he loves you any less. You are like him, and what house you're in will not change that I'm afraid. Listen," Harry looked up at this point, "this has obviously bothered you, a lot, so I'm not about to tell you to just stop, but I'm here if you need to talk to me. Eleven years you've known me, one single night where a hat chose what table to sat at is not going to change the fact that you're practically family. Do you understand?"

   Harry hesitated ever so slightly, but nodded, and when McGonagall pulled him in for a hug, it was instinct to hug back, and he thought maybe he was overreacting. He shouldn't have had such little faith in her really.

   "Now." she pulled away, but gave a fond smile, "I've kept you long enough, you should head to your next lesson.

   Practically beaming, Harry darted from the room, and he, Draco and Pansy pretty much had to sprint to get to their next lesson on time. And it was a good job they made it, because Professor Snape was not somebody to mess with. Especially if your name was Harry Potter and you were the son of James Potter. Harry had met him a few times, but had always gotten the inkling that he wasn't really liked by the man, and it had taken for him to get a bit older before he realised that it wasn't actually anything he'd done, unless you thought him being born was his fault. He was aware of the fact that Snape and the Marauders had pretty much hated each other, and once upon a time he and Lily had been friends, but something had happened to stop that. It was actually their friendship that was the reason Harry had met him those couple of times, because over the years, Lily and Snape had tried rekindling their friendship, but the same connection they'd had as little kids just didn't have the same significance in adulthood.

   Lily wasn't surrounded by people who didn't understand her, and Snape was no longer the person he'd been when they'd been friends anyway. Their attempts just hadn't been as successful as they had hoped, and Harry couldn't help the awful feeling that told him maybe he'd be the one dealing with that for the next seven years. He could only hope that Snape's rumoured favouritism of Slytherin - while he didn't agree with favouritism - would reach to him just enough that he wouldn't be hated.

   So maybe it was a better job than he thought that they weren't late. Snape still didn't seem too happy but realistically there wasn't much he could say, especially considering he wasn't alone. Harry just made the decision to play it safe during the lesson. It seemed too good to be true that Snape didn't say a thing during the lesson, and indeed it was when he was once again called back after the lesson.

   "Do you want us to stay?" Draco asked, the tone of his voice suggesting he knew what was coming, and that it wasn't pleasant.

   It didn't really set Harry's mind at ease, but he forced a smile.

   "No, that's okay. What's the worst he can do, really? Besides, he was friends with my mum in school."

   But even as he said it, he knew that wouldn't help him. In fact, one look at Snape once Draco and Pansy had left, and he was fairly certain nothing would help him.

   "Yes, Professor?"

   "Mr. Potter," the potions master drawled, and Harry didn't appreciate how his name was said, "I just wished to extend my... congratulations to you for being placed in my house. I trust you will make Slytherin proud."

   "Thank you sir," Harry tried not to sound scared, "I'll certainly do my best."

   "I must warn you though. You will not be able to achieve that playing into what you probably think of as celebrity status. Arrogance will get you nowhere."

   Immediately, Harry felt anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin, because he knew exactly what this was about. Or rather, who this was about, because he had heard the Marauder's constant mocking of Severus Snape and how his favourite jibe was to insult James Potter's arrogance. Snape barely even knew him, and Harry felt almost disappointed that he was being so compared to his father, especially with how he was acting right now. And usually, Harry was the type of boy to be careful of when and how he spoke his mind. If it would get him in trouble, he most likely would keep his mouth clamped shut. But this was a strange situation. He didn't care what Snape's reasons were; he didn't care what vendettas Snape had against his family excluding Lily, and he wasn't about to allow bullying from a Professor - somebody who should be professional and know better - just because it made said bully feel better. He was starting to see why James, Sirius and Remus had had so many issues with this guy.

   "I'm sorry, who's arrogant? I've been here a single night, and I don't think I've mentioned who I am once. People know me, what do you expect? I was a turning point in the war, and I stopped the reign of You-Know-Who's people - which if I'm not mistaken, you followed. But I was a baby. I don't remember it, and it certainly wasn't the conscious choice of a one year old to save the whole goddamn wizarding world. I don't intend to use my fame, or whatever you want to call it to achieve anything, even though that's exactly what Slytherin's do, isn't it? 'Those cunning folk use any means, to achieve their ends' so you're already telling me I'm not allowed to act on my houses traits. But the other trait is ambition, in case you forgot, so I'm actually very eager to prove myself worthy of this house, through means other than something I did as a child." Harry paused for a moment, to see if Snape was as quick on the uptake as he was, but he just got a mildly bewildered expression, "You can have any issues with my father you want, but don't compare me to him when you don't even know me. Good day."

   And with that, Harry stalked towards the door. He expected to be called back, and he expected a tone worse than the first, but all he heard, as he left the room, was a furious growl, followed by a quiet 'two points to Slytherin'.

   And that just made Harry even angrier.

   ---

   "What happened?" Pansy asked, as soon as Harry met back up with them.

   "I mouthed off."

   Draco hissed under his breath, rolling his eyes, "Nice going."

   "No, he gave me two points for it. That's not fair."

   "If you expected Slytherin to be fair, you really have got another thing coming." Draco sniffed.

   "Draco's right Harry," Pansy gripped Harry's robe sleeve, "Slytherin are not known for being fair. Snape was probably furious at you, but you're in his house, and you talked back to him, which obviously shows some nerve. What are you going to do about it, realistically? Ask him to take them back?"

   "Close. Not him. Someone else."

   "Whoa, you're not serious."

   "No, I'm Harry." Harry laughed under his breath, forgetting that Draco and Pansy didn't get the joke, "Look, it's not fair, and maybe Slytherin isn't, but I am, and I'm not about to let myself be awarded two points for something that another house would be reducted fifty for."

   The two tried to talk sense into Harry as they trailed after him all around the castle, but for the most part he just ignored them. He was dead set on this, and when he finally got to McGonagall's classroom, Draco and Pansy had pretty much given up. Knocking, and entering the room, Harry was grateful that she was alone.

   "Ah, Mr. Potter-"

   "Aunt Min, can you take two points off Slytherin please?"

   McGonagall looked taken back, and Harry could practically feel the confused looks of his house mates at the nickname.

   "And why exactly would you want me to do that?"

   "Because Professor Snape was being a bully, so I talked back, but he just gave me two points for it, even though he was angry. And that's not fair. I don't care if that's what he's known for, I don't want them."

   "What exactly was he saying?"

   "How arrogance would get me nowhere, and using my fame would be pointless and all these other things. He was comparing me directly to Dad, when he doesn't even know me. So I said that, and said that actually using my fame would be the Slytherin thing to do, but ambition is another and I want to actually prove myself. I said he can think whatever he liked about dad, but I'm not him."

   McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "Anything else?"

   Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor and shrugged, but proceeded to blurt out, "I also asked how I was actually expected to remember anything I did as a baby, even if it was defeated a Dark Lord and his followers... I also reminded him he was one of those followers."

   McGonagall paled, and sighed, but didn't for a second lose her composure. She was wearing the sort of look that Harry had never been able to decipher. Was it good? Bad? How was he supposed to feel, if he had no idea what was coming? He found the best way to deal with these looks was to set your own expression to blank, and take what was given.

   "You shouldn't have said those things to a Professor, Harry, even if he deserved it." she sighed again softly, "Two points too Slytherin."

   "What!" Harry exclaimed indignantly.

   "You came forward, determined for fairness, and that in itself deserves reward. I have never in my career seen or heard of a student asking to rectify unfair given points."

   "Happy to be the first." Harry grumbled under his breath sarcastically.

   "Now, don't be like that. Off you go now, that's my take on it."

   The three trailed out of the class room, Draco and Pansy very happily all smug, while Harry just huffed. Until about half way down the corridor, when Draco was very much sick of Harry's moping, he nudged the other boy in the side and snickered.

   "So then- Aunt Min, huh?"

Chapter Text

   Word must have gotten around somehow about Harry mouthing off at Snape. Personally, Harry thought it was Pansy, but either way, those who had been upset with with Harry's house were now also angered by the obvious lack of punishment for his disrespect. Namely: Ronald Weasley. If Ron was giving Harry dirty looks before, it was nothing to the death glares he was getting now. At first it bothered him, but then Draco and Pansy noticed it too, and took it upon themselves to reassure him that it wasn't anything Harry could be expected to fix. Ron's problems were his own. This support succeeded in making Harry carefree in all matters seething with negativity, which angered the redhead more. At some po11int he must've had enough. 

   Harry, Pansy and Draco all agreed they could happily have gone without any interaction from Ron at all that evening as they'd had rather a pleasant dinner that may or may not have involved Pansy laughing so hard that pumpkin juice spurted out of her nose. And if that hadn't been funny enough, it had landed all over Draco. They had still been giggling (or complaining in Draco's case) as they left the Great Hall.

   But who should they run into to stop such laughter but Ronald Weasley.

   Behind him stood Hermione Granger, looking quite fed up with the whole business, and a blonde boy that Harry recognised, but couldn't name. He didn't look too happy to be there either.

   "So." The redhead folded his arms, scowling.

   "What do you want?" Harry sighed.

   It hurt him, deep within his chest, that this was his childhood friend, but now only a scowling glaring inconvenience that gave Harry a sense of dread whenever he showed up. Why had his house had such an effect on the boy?

   "Nothing much. But I don't know, don't you think it's unfair? Bad enough you're put in Slytherin, but being awarded points for doing whatever you did? It's not fair!"

   Harry snapped, "Well life isn't fair! And it sounds like you don't even know what I did so give me a break. You're acting like I actually asked for Slytherin and frankly you're being pathetic about it."

   "I'm pathetic? You've just slithered right into the ranks of some of the worst families."

   "And you think you're any better?"

   If Harry was anything, he had notably been described as fiercely loyal by his family members. Maybe it should have been some stupid sign that he wasn't as wholly Lion as he'd been made out to be, but he didn't care if he'd known Draco and Pansy two days or two years, he trusted them. They were nothing like the stereotypes of their families. Sure, Draco was a bit of a brat, and Pansy was sly and notorious for spreading rumours, but they were good people as far as Harry was concerned. He didn't care what history he had with Ron, he wasn't going to stand by and let him so mercilessly insult his new friends.

   "Yes-"

   "Well I disagree."

   "The Malfoys and Parkinsons sided with You-Know-Who; they're all pure evil."

   "First of all, do your research. The Parkinsons were not noted as Death Eaters, so can't technically be held to taking sides. And the Malfoys may have sided with him then, but I don't see them looking for their Dark Lord now, do you? And secondly, you are being infinitely more hostile than they are."

   "Well I disagree with that."

   "A duel then." Harry spat.

   Ron faltered at that slightly, like he was confused about why Harry would suggest something so different to his nature. Being so young and such an important turning point in the war, Ron had always thought Harry to be the least violent person he'd ever be likely to meet. But either way, Harry noticed the confusion.

   "Draco's my second," he continued, "Who's yours?"

   "H-hey, wait." Draco spluttered, though more furious he would have to actually interact with Ron.

   "Neville." Ron replied snarkily, as the blonde boy shifted nervously behind him.

   "You're both stupid." Hermione spoke up.

   Ron huffed and walked away, and Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

   "I can guarantee the only stupid one is him." He shifted his bag onto his shoulder more comfortably, "I don't see why you're friends with him."

   "I'm not!" Hermione cried indignantly, "I'm friends with Neville."

   Harry hummed, half disbelievingly, and half contemplatively. Nothing else needed to be said however, Hermione turned and stalked off too, Neville following meekly behind. Harry stood and watched them until they had turned a corner, then swiftly made off in the opposite direction. Draco and Pansy followed behind and caught up to him.

   "The trophy room is quite a ways away." Pansy noted, "You'd have to leave the common room maybe half eleven."

   "And we'll have to factor in sneaking around and hiding if anybody comes by."

   Harry scoffed, "Don't be stupid."

   "Hey!" Pansy elbowed him in the side, "we're trying to help."

   "Yeah well. You don't need to. You've both been bad influences on me and haven't even noticed."

   "What do you mean?" the blonde asked, sounding quite offended.

   Harry snickered, "We're not going to the trophy room tonight. We're not going anywhere tonight."

   "What-" Pansy began before it clicked.

   "We're not showing up."

   ---

   Quarter to midnight found the three of them draped leisurely across one of the sofas. Draco was laid with his legs hooked over the arm rest, with Pansy sat next to where his head reached. Then Harry was laid, his legs bent and head rested in Pansy's lap.

   "You think they've left their common room yet?" Draco asked tiredly.

   "They should have done if they intended to get there on time."

   "Ron's never had the best time keeping skills."

   There was a long pause but though he had his eyes closed, Harry sensed they might have glanced to one another, and could feel the brewing question.

   "How do you know him anyway?" Pansy's voice was softer this time, perhaps aware she was on thin ice bringing this up when Harry was clearly still dealing with it.

   Frankly though, Harry couldn't care less. The sadness of the situation had passed and been replaced with anger. If Ron was going to be so quick to turn on him, then maybe he wasn't a worthy friend anyway.

   "Just childhood friends. My mum and his are friends so it just came naturally. To be honest with you, I always got on better with his brothers and sister."

   "There's enough to choose from." Draco snickered, and didn't notice Harry's sudden glare as his own expression turned to one of confusion, "I didn't know he had a sister though."

   Harry's heart skipped a beat. Of course families like the Malfoys probably had extensive records of the bigger wizarding families. He knew his own father had some somewhere, but never bothered himself with them, so they were more than likely out of date.

   "She's coming to Hogwarts next year."

   Draco started muttering something under his breath, and Harry froze.

   "William, Charles, Percy, Fred, George, Ronald, Ignatius." He spoke up, "Isn't Ignatius a boy's name?"

   It was Iggy, not Ignatius, Harry thought bitterly, followed quickly in his head by, but even then it wasn't really.

   "It's Ginevra." He stated calmly, trying not to get defensive, "well, Ginny. Everybody calls her Ginny."

   "I've never heard of her."

   "Well it's not your family so why should you have?"

   Harry could tell, even without looking, that Draco was likely pouting now. Pansy rested her hand on Harry's shoulder gently and Harry sighed.

   "I'm sorry. But you're so sure you know these things and won't admit when actually you don't. We just established I know them all, when all you know is whatever your dad told you. There's a difference. I'm telling you, with confidence, that Ron has a sister. Just accept that."

   "Alright, I get it."

   "You just don't need to be so bratty about things."

   "And here you were a few hours ago saying we weren't stereotypical." Pansy pointed out, rather slyly Harry thought.

   And that opened an entirely new can of worms didn't it?

   "Draco being bratty isn't stereotypical. People think that's how he'll act but it's not a stereotype. I didn't say anything untrue before. You weren't known deatheaters, and he isn't going on about finding some dark wizard that everybody else would rather stay gone."

   "You're the only one who's going to believe that though."

   "Nah." Harry scrunched his nose and shook his head, with a sort of finality, "Some truths need a little bit of proving but I'm not the only one."

   "How do you know?" Draco mumbled, almost miserably.

   Harry shrugged, then, realising Draco definitely couldn't see him, and Pansy might not be looking, sighed, "Maybe just optimism."

   Pansy scoffed, "And how far do you think optimism will take you?"

   "Far enough, if-"

   "If what?"

   "Well, I don't... it probably won't sound so good aloud as in my head."

   Draco and Pansy were quiet, no doubt expecting Harry to carry on.

   "Okay think about it like this. Ron has been bitter about me being in Slytherin. Why?"

   "Because he thinks all Slytherins are evil."

   "Exactly. He thinks that. But he doesn't know it because it's not true. People are stuck in these mindsets that people are either good or evil. Pads told me that's not true."

   "Pads?"

   "My godfather. He told me once, that there's good and evil in everybody, but it's the part we choose to act on that counts. You two have been nothing but kind to me, so that's all I can see you as."

   "That... that actually makes sense." Pansy hummed.

   "You sound like an adult." Draco huffed.

   Harry couldn't help but laugh, but wasn't surprised. After all, his mother was Lily Potter, who from eleven years old had to deal with a certain group of children, who never actually managed to grow up. And Harry had certainly taken after her as well as his father, mostly in situations such as this when a wise word was perhaps what was needed. But he didn't say a word of this to the others because it felt like too much to explain.

   "Well either way, I think you have a point, and if you have any bright ideas so we can stop getting booed when we're sorted into Slytherin, then I'll be all ears." There was something about how Pansy said it that made her sound bratty, but Harry believed her anyway.

   He figured anybody would want to avoid being booed for something that wasn't even the end of the world.

   ---

   Harry was tired the next day, and ached, and could barely remember even finding his way into his bed the previous night. But in bed he was, with his dorm mates in the surrounding beds. And all he could think was how he really did not want to get up.

   However he found his mood greatly improved when he saw Ron walk into the Great Hall for breakfast with a sour expression filled with anger. And he shot every last bit of it Harry's way. He knew he should have felt a little sorry about it all, but really the boy asked for it.

   "Guess we know he got caught then, eh?" Pansy snickered, and Harry gave her an overdramatic bow.

   "Well there'll be more where that came from."

   "Let's hope so." Draco added, "what sort of friends would we be if we didn't show you the fun of deceit?"

   "Well that would just depend who you ask. Personally I think I'd have to make new friends."

   There was a pause, but the silence of it was comforting to the trio. Harry could hardly believe he'd made friends he was so comfortable with so soon, and only hoped it wasn't too good to be true and that he could keep them.

   It wasn't long after breakfast however, that Harry was reminded that he had other friends too. Sure, Ron had been a let down, but as he knew from himself, Ron wasn't his family, just one of them. As they left the Great Hall after a usually filling breakfast, they were met by two red heads, taller than their brother and identical in appearances. To most people anyway. Harry often wondered if he was the only one capable of knowing the difference between Fred and George Weasley.

   "Hullo...?" Harry uttered nervously, feeling slightly on edge at the grins the twins wore.

   "Oh don't sound so nervous."

   "We only wanted to talk."

   Harry sighed, and slumped his shoulders lightly, "I'm sorry but if this has anything at all to do with Ron or my house, I'm not interested."

   "Actually," George ventured, his grin now fading, "we think you will be."

   "Yeah," Fred continued, "we think the way Ron is being about this whole thing is awful."

   "You... do?"

   "Yeah! We've known you your entire life, and we know you're not the Slytherin type." Fred paused and looked guiltily at Draco and Pansy who had folded their arms, "the stereotype I mean."

   "Point is you mean a great deal to us. Mum too, and Ginny and the rest. Being a Slytherin won't change that and we wouldn't have said anything, but with the way Ron's acting, we thought you might need to hear it."

   Harry smiled softly. He honestly had needed to hear that, especially from the twins now he thought about it, who were being more serious than Harry thought he'd ever seen them, and it meant a lot.

   "Thank you. Honestly. You know the Weasleys are practically family to me, and that won't change because of... well..."

   "Because of Ronald being a brat." The two of them grinned widely.

   Harry couldn't help but laugh, and he swore he heard Draco and Pansy snicker too.

   "Exactly."

Chapter Text

When the day came for flying lessons, Harry felt nervous. He wasn't sure whether Draco's excitement actually helped or not, but he couldn't help but feel that he should stick to flying at home, and stay well rooted to the ground at school. Just something about the idea didn't sit right with him. However, it was a lesson, and he couldn't just skip. Especially when the lesson was with the Gryffindors. They didn't need any more reason to kick him in with the stereotypes. And so he showed, and ignored Ron's glares, focusing his concentration on the instructions they were being given, and succeeding in them all.

The whole lesson proceeded rather smoothly. That is until the blonde boy Hermione was friends with - Neville - floated a little too far up, and promptly fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Harry reckoned there was little chance of it being anything but broken. Leaving harsh words with them, Madam Hooch bustled off with Neville towards the hospital wing. Everyone too her warning to keep their feet on the ground seriously. And Harry would have too, if his new friend hadn't decided to act like such a brat.

Trust Draco to find Neville's rememberall.

"Just give it back Draco," Harry reasoned in a hushed voice, "you're acting a bit of a prat."

Draco looked hurt for a moment before his features hardened, his jaw setting as he climbed onto his broom, pushing off to hover a few feet about anybody's reach.

"If you want it so badly, come and get it."

Harry made little hesitation to clamber onto his own broom, despite Hermione's protests. He few to Draco's height and was met with an almost disappointed look.

"I know you're basically part lion, but you don't have to act as rashly as one."

"Well, I know you're a Malfoy, but maybe you don't have to act as bratty as one. Just give me the rememberall Draco, and don't make such a fuss."

Draco almost squeaked in indignation, and drifted away from him.

"Fine, take your bloody rememberall."

And he threw it.

Harry was after it before he even realised what he was doing. He had to admit that it actually felt good to be flying, despite his nerves that morning, and he wondered, that if this felt this good, how exhilarating much Quidditch be? However, he'd have to wait for that. This, right now, was adrenaline enough. And the tension of almost missing the ball completely, then catching it with the tips of his fingers, at the expense of threatening a fall... He figured that threat was worth it for the brownie points he earned when he landed and passed the rememberall to an otherwise disappointed Hermione. But the points he earned with her were not as many as he seemed to have lost with Draco. Harry opened his mouth to say something to try and reconcile, but didn't get the chance.

"Potter!" Severus Snape's cool, yet furious voice cut through the air.

Harry flinched, and all he could think was how was he going to explain this to Lily?

He followed Snape through almost endless corridors, destroying the skin around his nails with his teeth as they went, and trying to think up some valid argument. He couldn't think of anything good enough, so he remained silent - which was probably the smart thing to do in any case - until they reached the corridor closest to the dungeons. And then Snape turned on him.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"Well, I-" Harry began, but with a sharp look, he figured Snape had meant that as a rhetorical question.

"You stupid boy. Or rather, very clever if your intention had been to break your neck. Or did that not even cross your mind?"

The boy stayed quiet for another few seconds but anger bubbled, and he let it show itself.

"With respect, sir, just because I'm in Slytherin does not mean I have to act like a self-righteous prat, like some of my housemates. I wasn't the only one up on my broom, but at least I was up there trying to do the right thing rather than to be a bully."

"And who exactly are you referring to?" the Professor drawled with a sneer.

Harry almost dropped Draco in it, and part of him really wanted to, but at the last second, he decided against it. Draco was already annoyed at him, and he surely wouldn't appreciate anything more. Even if he arguably deserved it, Harry didn't really want to lose his friend.

"It doesn't matter." Harry muttered.

Snape sniffed irritably, "Very well. Anyway, as utterly idiotic as your actions were, there may yet be some good to come from it."

"Sir?"

"As it happens, Slytherin is in dire need of a new seeker, and rather waste time holding tryouts that you can't even attend, I may attempt to pull some strings to get you on the team."

Harry gaped at him for a moment before realising his leg wasn't being pulled,and shutting his mouth, though eyes still wide.

"Really?"

"I can assure you I wouldn't say  it if I wasn't serious, Potter. Don't let it go to your head. I guarantee you, it is only a matter of convenience that I was witness to your stupidity."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, not really listening but knowing by now when the Professor was just drawling nonsense about how he didn't like him.

"I won't sir. And I won't let you down."

"See that you don't. Now, off with you."

The boy didn't argue, turning to hurry off to meet Draco and Pansy for lunch. Upon entering the Great Hall, he found them looking rather worried, and the relief that flooded their faces when they saw him warmed his heart a little.

"Where were you?" Pansy demanded immediately. "What happened? Did you get into a lot of trouble? They better not have expelled you. I swear I'll-"

Harry cut her off with his laugh, "I'm flattered Pans, but chill. I didn't get into much trouble. Unless..."

"Unless."

"Well unless you count being given a place on the Quidditch team a punishment."

"You got what?"

"Trust me, Snape did not seem too happy admitting it was a good idea. Necessity more than anything. New Slytherin seeker."

Pansy beamed at him, before noticing, about the same time as Harry, Draco's sour look. The Blonde winced, and Harry suspected Pansy had just kicked him under the table.

"What? Well done, whatever. Why should I care?"

Pansy kicked him again.

"What's your problem?"

"You try being called bratty and not be annoyed about it."

Harry sighed and steeled himself for the potentially oncoming argument.

"I called you bratty because that's what you were being, Draco. I'm sorry that it hurt your feelings-" Draco scoffed at that as though it was utterly ridiculous for Malfoys to have feelings "- but it was true. But stop and think for a moment would you? You haven't gotten into trouble, have you?"

"No." Draco sniffed sulkily, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"I am sorry, really. I didn't tell Snape you were the reason I was on my own broom."

"How very considerate."

"Oh come off it. You would have deserved it if I did. I apologised, and I meant it, but I won't say I didn't mean what I said. You could afford to tone it down a bit."

Draco sniffed again, but seemed to be getting what Harry meant. He slumped his shoulders and offered Harry a small, albeit still slightly hurt smile.

"Congratulations about the Quidditch."

"No doubt you'll be trying out next year, huh?"

Draco's smile widened slightly.

"Of course, with their winning streak, and my talent combined, they'll never lose another match again."

"I'll hold you to that."

At that point Pansy melodramatically rolled her eyes, muttering something about 'boys'.

She received two light kicks to the shins.

%%%

Harry cursed as Hedwig, along with Sirius' owl dropped a large, rather long package onto the table, spilling half his breakfast. Though disgruntled as he was at the mess, he couldn't keep the grin off his face for long. He knew a broom when he saw one.

Draco poked at it curiously, a envious and contemplating frown etched on his face. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and said nothing about it. He reckoned Draco was actually a little bit bitter about the Quidditch thing, but seemingly not at Harry so much as it was at Snape for not giving him a place too. And Harry could live with that.

He decided to wait until they got back to their dorms before he opened the parcel. After all, why should everybody get to see what  he would be riding before he played on it? Besides, there was still the letter to read, and Harry recognised Sirius' scrawled handwriting and figured he was in for a roller coaster. He was right. Sirius gushed over and over about how proud he was that Harry made his team, and would support a Slytherin win fiercely. And oh how Marauder of him to get a place in his first year. Youngest player in a century McGonagall had told him. Because of course she had been in touch with them. Why wouldn't she be? He was as much her family as he was Sirius'.

There were notes from Lily and Remus too. Less dramatic than Sirius, but just as proud. Still nothing from James. But this time, Harry didn't feel upset or angry by this, he was almost indifferent. If his dad was going to be so childish over a house, then fine. But Harry was over it, and he was proud of himself and was thankful for the pride from his less immature family.

The broom wasn't the only bit of post he got however, and a messily written note from the Quidditch team captain, Marcus Flint, told him that he was expected at the Quidditch pitch after dinner. And to not be late. Harry had to be a little offended at that, as he wouldn't dream of being late to an opportunity such as this, but he'd seen Flint around the common room and quickly remembered that he would probably tell someone who was always half an hour early not to be late.

As it turned out, Harry was one of those people, and he ended up getting to the pitch before Flint, broom in hand. Flint didn't seem like the type of person to really be impressed most of the time, but Harry could've sworn he saw a flicker of it in his expression when the captain arrived. It didn't persuade him to go any easier on him though.

By the time they were done, Harry was dripping with sweat, which was quickly making him shiver with the chill of the air. And he wasn't sure they'd actually done anything strictly Quidditch related, apart from that twenty minute segment of Flint letting go of the snitch, and timing how long it took Harry to catch it. He figured the session was probably less to do with training than it was to just make his own judgement on what Harry was capable of.

"I gotta say, you've got skill. But don't let that go to your head, I expect perfection from my team, understand? And I don't go easy when there's work to be done. If anything I'll be harder on you because you're the newest member, you hear me?"

Harry nodded vigorously, eager to show the dedication he would bring to the team, and Flint seemed satisfied.

"Good. Then let's get back up there; you're no good to anybody frozen."

%%%

When Harry had returned to the common room and had warmed himself up with what he thought was a well deserved shower, it became clear that Draco and Pansy were actually about excited as he was for him to be on the team. He wasn't surprised with Draco, but Pansy didn't really seem interested in things like Quidditch most of the time. Telling her such earned him an overly dramatic scoff.

"Of course I'm not interested in it, but I still want a Slytherin win thank you very much, and if you're nearly as good as people are saying, then I really don't think we have to worry. Besides, Flint seemed pretty happy when you came back and I suppose I trust his judgement."

Harry flopped down between them, their shoulders all pressed together, "You know, I think he was a little bit impressed. Slightest traces of it in his face."

"I'll believe that when I see it." Pansy scoffed.

But Harry ignored her, turning to Draco instead and nudging him gently.

"So we're definitely okay now, yeah?"

"I suppose so," the blond sighed dramatically, but Harry could tell he wasn't being serious, "I'll just have to show you up when I join next year."

"Guess I'll hold you to that one too, then."

That night, Harry slept soundly, feeling more at home in these black marbled walls than he thought he ever would.

Chapter Text

READ THE NOTE ABOVE

Hey guys.

I guess it's been a while huh? Up until recently, my lack of updates have purely been because of a lack of motivation. I'm moving in less than 2 weeks, I've been working and I've had college and had a lot of mental health and trauma stuff resurface over the endless lockdowns.

But now I'm here to apologise because I don't think I can bring myself to write Harry Potter fanfic anymore. I'm a queer person. I'm trans, and definitely not straight, and JKR has made it quite clear what her stance on queer people are. Before I may have been able to separate the art from the artist, but now? She's accusing that anybody who consumes her media is also transphobic and homophobic? That's so incredibly hurtful, especially when this series literally created the foundation of my childhood, and she is so set on hating the existence of me and people like me. I refuse to associate with opinions like that, and I refuse to expend effort to fight for the series when it was her that created it.

So I'm sorry. But this work is no longer in progress.

Chapter Text

Honestly, it has all been a huge misunderstanding, and as Harry ran through the corridors with Draco and Pansy hot on his heels, and the echoing meows of Mrs. Norris behind them, the only coherent thoughts in his head was the longest nastiest stream of curse words you’d ever seen. All of them were Sirius’ fault. And he wasn’t the only one.

“Shit, shit, this way!” Pansy screeched, grabbing hold of them and taking them on a sharp left behind a tapestry, into a dimly lit corridor barely wide enough for them to run.

But run, they did, and when they came out, they were so much closer to the dungeons. They flew down the stairs, footsteps echoing wildly as the sound bounced from wall to wall, and by the time they reached their Common Room door, none of them had breath left in them enough to say the password for a good few moments.

“What in Merlin’s name was that?” Pansy hissed as the three of them took seats on the huge sofa farthest away from the other students in the room.

“A dog.” Draco responded dimly, pushing his now less-than-perfect hair away from his forehead. “A dog with three heads.”

“And clearly the reason we were told to stay away from the third floor corridor.” Harry added, wiping his glasses on his shirt and wiping the sweat from under his eyes.

It really had been an accident. They’d been wandering sort of aimlessly, just chatting and not really planning on going anywhere in particular. And as they’d been going up one of the staircases, it had started to move. It had been sudden and they had been distracted, so it startled them enough that they’d jumped onto the nearest platform and found themselves quite stuck and none of the surrounding staircases seemed to be coming back any time soon. Harry wasn’t sure if Draco and Pansy had been keeping track of where they were in the castle, but he certainly hadn’t been, so when he’d suggested they go through the door they were stuck by and try and find a way around that way, it really had been an innocent suggestion.

He realised they were in a restricted area as soon as they’d gone through. Cobwebs had been allowed to grow free here, and there was no light save for the pedestal torches that lit when they got close enough, like a motion sensor or something on the shop doors Lily took him to often. Harry had shivered and one look at Draco and Pansy told him that they were thinking the exact same thing in regards to the creepiness of this place.

“Honestly.” Draco had scrunched his nose up. “And they call this place a good school.”

Pansy had taken a peek out of the door again, and realising the stairs still hadn’t moved back, they pushed onwards. It was creepy, sure, but with each step the children realised more and more than it wouldn’t surprise them if this was all just a fear tactic to make sure nobody did come in here, and given the way Dumbledore warned people away from this place at the beginning of the year (because Harry had now realised that this probably was in fact the third floor corridor they’d been warned against.) it was no surprise they’d set it up to look as dangerous as he’d said. And other than the unsavoury decor, it wasn’t a particularly notable corridor, and there was only a single other door at the end of it.

“Probably a staircase.” Pansy said it in a way that made Harry think a lot of wishful thinking was involved.

Wishful thinking that was needed when the door turned out to be locked and Draco had to use an unlocking spell on the handle. As they opened it, all three of their faces had scrunched at the awful smell coming from inside in huge puffs of… breath? The door was open fully before any of them had really managed to process what it was they were looking at. It was Draco that screamed first, followed by Pansy, followed by Harry as the huge dog stood, all three of its heads glaring at them, its chest heaving as it growled and let out giant barks. For a beast with only one set of lungs between three huge heads, it did not seem quiet, or breathless, and it took all of the children’s strength not to be pushed back from the sheer force of its breaths the closer to the door it got. They managed to shut it when it was barely a wand’s width away from breaching the door’s threshold.

And if all that wasn’t terrifying enough, as soon as the door was shut and locked, a high pitched meow sounded from behind them, and all three of them had to resist the urge to kick the bloody cat into next week as they bolted past her and down the stairs, hearing Filch’s uneven gait pursuing them from a different staircase to the one they just descended. And from there, all they’d done was run.

“I hate that bloody cat.” Draco huffed, having now caught his breath, and cooled down a little.

“You’re telling me. Don’t think Filch saw us though.”

“What in Salazar’s name do they think they’re doing keeping something like that in a school of all places.”

“I think I might have somewhat of an answer to that.” Pansy shrugged, leaning forward and smirking like she was about to spill the biggest piece of gossip she’d ever gotten her grubby little hands on. “I think I saw something.”

Draco and Harry looked at each other, then synchronised pointed looks at her that involved raised eyebrows and folded arms.

“Of course, the whole three heads thing was the most important thing of the situation, but I couldn’t help but notice that the beast was standing on a trap door. I’m just saying, I would want something big and scary looking too if I was trying to keep something hidden and protected.”

“But why here?” Harry asked, “In a school? If it’s so valuable, why not put it away in Gringotts or something?”

“It’s unexpected I guess. Nobody would think to look in a school, and how would they get in anyway without arousing suspicion.”

“Well I think it’s a stupid idea - Dumbledore’s going to get somebody killed.” Draco huffed again.

Pansy sighed dramatically, and draped herself over both the boy’s laps, “Well say what you want, but you can’t disagree, his insanities make for some pretty awesome trust exercises. We’re practically trauma bonded now.”

The boys just rolled their eyes.

%%%

The three headed dog became a mere thought in the back of one’s head as the air turned bitterly cold, and anticipation for Hallowe'en flooded the castle. Jack o'Lanterns were placed throughout the halls, slowly but surely sweets of all sickly and sticky natures began to take over the tables in the Great Hall, and the ghosts started taking extra interest in spooking the students whenever they got a chance. And Harry couldn't wait for Hallowe'en itself. He knew what that day meant to most people of course. It was the day he somehow defeated the Dark Lord, and his family narrowly escaped their deaths. But he had been raised seeing that as somebody else's celebration. He preferred the Hallowe'en that allowed you to dress up and scoff sweets all night, and so did his family for that matter.

On Hallowe'en morning, Harry received a large package from Hedwig, who was assisted by Sirius' owl that only narrowly missed his breakfast as he tried to catch it. His eyes lit up immediately and after feeding the two owls small pieces of bacon, he ripped into the parcel and threw open the box of sweets. He’d been expecting this, but it was still such a sight to behold. It was usually Sirius who dressed up with him to go trick or treating, and when Harry had posed the heartbreaking question of what were they going to do once he began at Hogwarts, Sirius had sworn up and down that he would send Harry a huge box of sweets every year at Hallowe’en. And Harry hadn’t been about to say no to that. He pulled out a few chocolate frogs, handing one each to Draco and Pansy and keeping one out for himself, then closing the box again and grinning.

“Happy Hallowe’en.”

“You’re going to be set for weeks .” Pansy near exclaimed.

“Yes, and if you want me to share, you’re going to keep your trap shut about it.”

Pansy sulked, but Harry could tell it was put on and the glint in her eyes at all the sweets she might get from him told him she would have no plans to tell anyone. He made a pit stop at the common room to drop the box off before classes began, tucking a box of Bertie Bott’s into the inside pocket of his robes before he left.

There was a kind of air about lessons that day. Harry didn’t say anything about it, for fear of being considered childish, but it was definitely because he was looking forward to the Hallowe’en feast. He was totally prepared to just fill up on sweets, and desserts, because really, what sort of Hallowe’en would it be if he ate properly? He knew he wasn’t the only one excited, and he could feel the buzzing through the halls all day, but still he kept quiet. He could even tell himself though that his concentration in classes was not as good as usual. They had been studying the levitating spell for weeks in Professor Flitwick’s class, but now, on the day they were actually trying to demonstrate that they could cast it, Harry’s focus completely left him. He didn’t feel too badly however, considering the only person in the room who actually managed it was Hermione. This didn’t surprise him at all, but he had had to snicker a little at her way of trying to school Ron’s abysmal pronunciation of the spell.

He was less impressed after class though. As they were all filing out, he could hear him complaining loudly about the advice Hermione had given him, and Harry could have sworn he even saw Draco pull a face at how unfair he was being, even when Hermione was the target. And Harry might have been able to let it go - what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her and all that. But the problem was that the girl was right behind the lot of them. Of course she was, they were all leaving the same class after all, and they were all heading in the general direction of common rooms, so why wouldn’t she be nearby? She pushed past Ron harshly as she went, and Harry was moving before he could properly think, handing his books over to a disgruntled Draco, and chasing after her.

Her eyes were shining when he caught up to her, and he couldn’t tell whether the feeling of empathy for her, or the anger towards Ron was stronger. He was really starting to realise just how much the redhead actually annoyed him, and part of him was beginning to feel almost grateful that him being sorted into Slytherin showed Ron’s true colours to him. At any rate it had allowed him to find friends in more worthy people.

“Hey, he shouldn’t have said that. You were only trying to help.”

“Yes, well that serves me right doesn’t it?”

“I have some Bertie Botts - would that help?”

He started digging in his pocket, but Hermione was shaking her head, and when she spoke again, her voice broke a little.

“No thanks - I just want to be alone.”

And Harry didn’t go after her, as she beelined in the direction of the nearest bathrooms. Draco and Pansy came up behind him a few moments later, both scowling at Ron as he and Neville passed by them.

“Guessing that didn’t go to plan?” Draco asked.

“Worth a try.” Harry shrugged, “Come on, we have entirely too much time to kill before the feast.”

%%%

The feast was fantastic. Spectacular. Beyond words. Harry practically drooled over the sheer amount of options there were. There were plenty of actual food options too, but unlike the Sorting feast, and every other dinner they had, the desserts weren’t brought out afterwards, they were just displayed immediately. The Professors clearly knew what Hallowe’en was about. He couldn’t help but notice that Hermione was nowhere to be seen at the Gryffindor table, but figured if she wanted to be alone, then she was probably going to keep it that way.

He was half way through the sweetest, most heavenly treacle tart he had ever even laid eyes on, let alone eaten when the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open. The confusion that flooded the room when Professor Quirrell burst in at top speed was obvious but not nearly as shocking as the absolute terror that replaced it when the Professor started screaming about a troll in the dungeons, before promptly passing out sprawled across the floor. It took several terribly long, drawn out seconds while the information processed in everybody’s minds.

And that’s when the screaming began.

It took Dumbledore several sparks into the air to get people’s attention again, and amidst the chaos Harry had noticed Snape had been quick to leave the room through the door at the back of the hall. He wasn’t entirely sure why this was what caught his attention, but the thought was there for less than a moment before Dumbledore gave the orders for Prefects to lead their houses to their common rooms and to stay there until further notice. Pansy managed to get caught in the crowd as they were on their way out, but Harry had managed to stick by Draco, who was incessantly complaining about the fact that it was all well and good sending everyone to their common rooms, except the Slytherin common room was in the dungeons. The exact same place this troll was supposed to be. Harry managed to block him out for the most part, purely to stop Draco’s worries from becoming his own. It must have been a different part of the dungeons anyway, or Dumbledore would have told their Prefect to take them somewhere else… right?

Draco was less than pleased when Harry interrupted his rantings with a slap to his chest when he realised something however.

“Hermione.”

“What about her?”

“She wasn’t at the feast, she has no idea about the troll.”

“Well… what do you suppose we do about it?”

Harry bit his lip, thinking, and looking to see where their prefect was. He then grabbed Draco’s sleeve, despite the blonde’s protests, and dragged him back towards the bathrooms that Hermione had been rushing to just hours before. The buzz of not being caught running away from the group was quickly dampened however, and his heart sank in his chest as he caught sight of the huge, sickening form of the twelve-foot mountain troll making its way right into the very bathroom Hermione was in.

“Oh, no way.” Draco hissed, “Come on, we can get a teacher.”

“There’s no time.”

And just like that, Harry was running again, Draco hot on his heels, though grumbling to himself the whole way. Within just a few steps of the bathroom door, the screaming started from inside, and Harry spurred forward, drawing his wand as he slid into the room, surveying the scene before him. Hermione was crouched low to the ground, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and hands covering her ears against the roaring of the troll as it tried and failed to hit her with its huge wooden club. Hermione, though slowed with her closeness to the ground, was still fast enough to avoid the club just about, but it would make contact at some point very soon if they couldn’t do something to stop it. In a bout of complete and utter stupidity, Harry picked up a piece of rubble from one of the stalls the troll had already demolished, and threw it as hard as he could, wincing as he watched it bounce off the back of the troll's head.

“Oi, you great brute!” He yelled, “Over here.”

It was amazing that his barely thought-out plan worked in any way close to how he’d hoped. Now with the troll’s attention on him, drawn to the opposite side to Hermione, Draco was able to half sneak round to get to her, a feat he began his attempt at without Harry so much as looking at him with a prompt. The only problem with this whole thing of course was that it did mean he was now the sole target of the troll, and as he watched on in fear as the beast drew up, raising its club above its head readying to bring it down right on top of him, he shut his eyes in preparation for impact, and shot off the first spell he could think of.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Everything went eerily silent for a moment… Two moments… Three- BONK!

Harry opened an eye just in time to hop back as the troll swayed and then plummeted, collapsing on the ground in front of him. He heard Draco asking Hermione if she was okay, and could feel the dust in the back of his throat, though most of it was settling now, and he saw Draco leading Hermione around the troll, staying as far away from it as possible, but it was all like watching a movie. Like he was in a daze, and he might well have stayed in such a daze for many moments longer had the door to the bathroom not slammed open and scared him half to death.

“Potter!” McGonagall shrieked, “Malfoy, Granger. Thank Goodness. What on Earth do you three think you’re doing?”

She was accompanied by Quirrell, and Snape, and while the former looked his usual jittery self, just maybe a little more nervous, Snape did not look at all impressed.

Harry’s eyes found Draco’s, and Harry realised that maybe the biggest flaw in his plan was how exactly they were supposed to explain something like this.

“They were looking for me.” Hermione squeaked, unable to meet McGonagall’s eye.

“She wasn’t at the feast.” Harry continued, “She didn’t know about the troll.”

“Then I think, Mr Potter, you should have informed an adult.” Snape drawled.

Harry deadpanned. “And what adult was I supposed to tell, Professor? You were nowhere to be seen, and everyone was all in a hurry to get us back to our common rooms. Which, frankly, I’d rather have come look for a friend in the girl’s bathroom than go to our common room, when the dungeons were where this thing was supposed to be. I didn’t exactly figure we’d be attacked, considering-”

“Enough.” Snape hissed.

Harry scowled and folded his arms, gesturing to the troll and pushing his luck just a little further. “Anyway, you’re welcome.”

“I don’t know how you managed to- well. I doubt many people at all could say they brought down such a beast. It was dangerous what you did. You shouldn’t have gone off on your own, no matter how safe you thought you would be, especially without an adult knowing where you were.”

“Aunt Min, I-”

McGonagall held up her hand, “But.” She looked to Snape, who was still studying Harry with an agitated look, “We can’t overlook… Well, this. You will both be awarded five points for Slytherin. It’s fortunate none of you were hurt, but I can’t ignore that Miss Granger’s fate might have been much more severe if you boys hadn’t been here. Now. Get back to your common rooms.”

The three children did as they were told, and with such an overall positive outcome, even Harry couldn’t bring himself to shoot his continued deadpan looks at Snape on the way out. He kept his gaze lowered as he followed Draco and Hermione out. Once they’d left, Hermione promptly pulled Harry into a hug, and he could feel her shaking against him.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, then turned to Draco.

Sensing he would be less inclined to accept a hug, she just clasped her hands around his forearms, bringing him to look at her as she thanked him too. He smiled back, but didn’t say anything back, seemingly lost for words at the whole situation. But Harry had little room for thought about that. Once Hermione had headed off in the direction she’d needed, hair bobbing behind her as she walked briskly, Harry grabbed Draco’s upper arm and began marching them in the direction of the dungeons.

“You can lecture me about all this later, I have a feeling it’s coming, but later, okay? Did you see how quickly Snape left the feast when Quirrell came running in?”

“I noticed he wasn’t there after Dumbledore got our attention I suppose. Why, what’s that got to do with anything?”

“I think I know where he might have gone.”

Draco pulled a face at him. And face that told Harry that he wasn’t quite seeing why this was more important than the very in depth lecture he had been planning in his head. But also a face that said ‘pray tell’.

“He had a pretty nasty gash on his leg that wasn’t there before.” Harry continued lowly. “I think he may have had a run in with our old friend, the three headed dog.”

Chapter Text

“I just don’t understand why Snape of all people would want to go near that thing." Pansy shook her head.

She was more than a little upset that she'd missed all the excitement with the troll and had demanded to hear everything from start to finish at least twice a day for the past few days. Harry shrugged, tugging at the fabric of his Quidditch uniform, trying to get comfortable in it.

"Well we don't actually know what's down there. Maybe he wants whatever it is?"

“I still don’t get why you think he even went down there.”

“I’m just guessing mostly I suppose. But he rushed off pretty quickly when Quirrell started screaming about the troll, and then when he found us with McGonagall, he was hurt. And it was a bad gash, I can’t think of anything else that might have done something like that. I’d say the troll, but that thing was too busy preoccupied with us and Hermione.”

“Well, if you’re right, whatever it is down there must be good.”

"Maybe it's some decent shampoo." Draco snickered.

Pansy cackled in response and Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, despite the nervousness for the match.

It was his first proper match, and of course it had to be against Gryffindor. If he didn't win it for them, he was pretty sure Flint was going to kill him. So no pressure.

"I have an idea though." He gave a sly smirk, picking up his broom. “To maybe shed at least a little light on everything.”

"Oh pray tell, you slithery little thing." Pansy's eyes glinted.

"Meet me after the match."

And with that he left the two of them in stunned silence. He could consider whether his idea was a good or bad one later, right now however, he had a Quidditch match to try and win.

%%%

Harry knew that he would never get used to the divide between the houses. He found it completely and utterly unfair that when Gryffindor flew onto the pitch, there were cheers from three quarters of the school, compared to when Slytherin flew out and there were students booing him. They were hard to hear of course, due to the whole of Slytherin screaming louder than all of the booing combined, in a mostly successful attempt to drown them out. It was actually one of the things Harry had most appreciated about Slytherin as a house. He’d learnt it quite early on from watching how some of the older students seemed to work through any disagreements they had. They would go at each other in the Common Room. They’d cast hexes, they’d swear, and yell, and even throw a few punches. They would hate each other to the ends of the Earth when they were safely within the walls of their Common Room. But it was an unwritten rule that once you left those confines, it didn’t matter. You left whatever hatred you had at the door, and you put on the illusion of the most united front you’d ever seen. The students of Slytherin house had learnt pretty fast that the only people they could rely on were themselves, and if the rest of the student body, and even the teachers were going to treat them like they were all cut directly from the Dark Lord’s cloak, then all they really had were each other. They could rely on that unwritten rule, knowing that if they were really caught out, or in trouble, their house would have their back. Because it wasn’t like anybody else’s help and support was unconditional.

The thought made him smile as he took his position hovering above the rest of the players, and the smile turned into a smirk when he caught the eye of the Gryffindor Seeker. He was going to win this for his team. For his house. Youngest Seeker in a century, and he was going to make sure everybody knew Gryffindor had been beaten by an eleven year old.

And he started out great. Fred and George barely left him alone at first, flying loops around him, and hooting as they did so, trying to distract him, and while it was very much distracting, at least it kept the bludgers away from him while he tried looking for the Snitch. The twins, upon realising they were being thoroughly ignored, and realising that while they were wasting their time on him, they were missing out on doing their actual job, did eventually leave him alone, which allowed for him to get on with doing his job too. And it was easier than he expected to find the Snitch - the small glint of gold in the corner of his eye. It made him wonder what all the fuss was about when it came to Seeking, but then he realised that he still actually had to catch it for his finding skills to actually be worth anything.

But having eyes on it certainly helped with the whole catching it part.

He pushed forward, but jerked violently when his broom instead tried to go the opposite way. He tried again, only for the same thing to happen again, and before he could begin to contemplate what might be happening, his broom jerked violently again. Then again. And again. Until the broom was bucking him like a wild bull, and doing a pretty good job at loosening his grip. There was barely enough time to really even consider what was happening, let alone think about what to do about it. In fact the only thought that was really going through Harry's brain, was a rather dramatic ramble about how a fall from this height would make for an easily broken neck and he would almost certainly die, and how stupid would that be, to have been the youngest Seeker in a century, only to fall to his death on his first match.

And despite himself, he was thinking about what his dad would think of it.

"Wotcher, Harry." Fred appeared beside him.

"Grab on." George said from the other side, trying to keep as close to Harry's broom as he could.

Harry swore George was getting hit by the broom, but instead of questioning it, he reached to grab George's arm with one hand, half-throwing himself over onto the back of his broom and letting go of his, while Fred drew his wand from inside his Quidditch cloak and was furiously trying to counteract whatever had taken over his own, which was had momentarily moved quicker as Harry's weight lifted from it. It stopped moving soon after before Fred had even managed to utter a spell, and Harry got a sudden fear that if it was being cast now rather than preemptively, then they might simply target George's broom next, but his fears subsided when their feet touched the ground.

"Thanks." Harry breathed, and George clasped him on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it."

Fred landed beside them a few moments later, Harry's broom in hand, having caught it before it fell to the ground.

"Fancy the risk?" Fred asked, holding it out to him.

Harry looked up into the stands, and the pitch above. The game had been paused momentarily, and everyone seemed to be watching. He burnt bright red in the face, resisting the urge to grumble to himself. Instead he forced a grin to the twins and took the broom back.

"Merlin forbid I disappoint, eh?"

With that, he mounted the broom and shot upwards, his grip much tighter than it had been before. With a chorus of cheers from the stands - the loudest coming from the Slytherins - Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game continued. Harry didn't feel entirely safe, but with his grip like stone on the handle of his broom, he found it easy to slip back into the game. There would be time afterwards to figured things out, but for now he had a golden snitch to catch. And more importantly find.

The other seeker was a little ways away now, meandering a little bit, also looking intently for - there!

A glint of gold across the pitch, and even better, he was closer than the other seeker was. Harry still took the time to play it safe though. He glided over, trying to look like he was still looking, without actually taking his eyes off the snitch. And it worked, because even in his periphery, he saw the slow start the other seeker had when Harry suddenly darted, chasing the small golden ball as it flew. The other seeker had nothing on this chance. He was following Harry now, but he was too far behind to make any sort of difference.

Harry might have caught the snitch ten seconds earlier if it wasn't for his broom trying to buck him again. He didn't see the point when he looked back later, because he'd been so close to the ground anyway, and all the broom's erratic movement did was throw him forward. He let go, and that was his mistake, but catching the snitch in your mouth still counts as a catch.

The initial celebrations were magnificent. Or so Harry heard. He'd allowed himself to be showcased by his team, mostly because they refused to give him an option, but once he'd been allowed down, and they'd gone to change, Harry had instead taken Draco and Pansy by the wrists and pulled them away from it all. They'd had a lot to say when they realised where he was taking them.

"That great oaf?" Draco groaned, "Are you kidding me?"

"Don't be like that. What, was conversing with Hermione just entirely too much for you?"

"What?"

"The other day. You were really nice to her. As you should be all the time, but that aside. I was proud of you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why are we here, Harry?"

Harry smirked because he knew he'd succeeded in making his point.

"Hagrid knows more about magical creatures than anyone I've ever met. If anyone can tell us about the three headed dog then it's him."

"But what makes you think he'll tell us anything?" Pansy tutted.

Harry rolled his eyes, "It's almost like you guys don't trust me."

"Well…"

Pansy dodged out of the way of Harry's attempted slap, so he settled for giving her a very offended expression and noise, ignoring her attempts at apologising and trying not to laugh at the fits of giggles that prevented any sort of sincerity.

When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, Harry knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened to him. Hagrid seemed surprised to see him, though happily so, though he seemed more surprised still at the two who accompanied him.

"Wha' a nice surprise, 'arry! Come in, come in. An' hello t' ye too Malfoy, an' uh…"

"Pansy Parkinson." She huffed, sticking her nose in the air as she entered the hut.

Harry was secretly pleased when both Pansy and Draco opted to be polite, and though he could tell they weren't exactly happy about their current surroundings, they said and did nothing about it.

"Only just got back from yer game meself. Funny wha' 'appened t' yet broom."

Harey waved his hand dismissively, though he could still feel the fear of it all crawling at the back of his throat. But he could focus on that later, right now he had a mission.

"That's a worry for later on." Draco scoffed at him, but he pointedly ignored the boy. "We actually came to ask you about the three headed dog in the third floor corridor."

Everything went very quiet. Draco and Pansy were staring at him incredulously, as if it was the strangest thing in the world for him to be so nonchalant about asking. But Harry knew Hagrid, and he knew his way around people most of the time, especially the ones who were prominent in his life. If Hagrid knew anything, this was the way to get it out of him.

And it was immediately clear that he did know something. He went quiet too, but it was notably because his jaw had dropped. After a few moments of Harry staring at him expectantly, Hagrid shuffled awkwardly in his seat and cleared his throat loudly.

"Now, 'ow is it ye know about Fluffy?"

"So it is yours?" Harry asked.

At the same time, Pansy near screeched, "You named it?"

"'Course she's mine! Good guard dog is Fluffy."

"So she is guarding something?" Harry probed, and when he saw Draco open his mouth he gave a small gesture to shut him up before he could say anything. He did the same with Pansy when she too opened her mouth.

"Ye! Tha's why she's in th' school at all. Dunno wha' though. Only Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel be knowin' tha'."

There was another long silence, Draco and Pansy looking at each other with wide eyes. Harry still kept his eyes on Hagrid, trying really hard not to smile as he watched the man's expression change as he realised what he'd just revealed.

"I shouldn't have said tha'."

Chapter Text

Pansy let her head drop onto the table.

"This is ridiculous. There's nothing in any of these books. There wasn't the first time. Or the second. Why are we still looking?"

Draco turned the page he was on but sighed too, resting his chin on his other hand. "I hate to agree, but…"

Harry slammed the book he was on shut and rested his chin on his arms atop of it.

"We must have missed something. I know I've seen or heard the name Nicholas Flamel before."

"Harry." Pansy gave him a look, "darling. Do you know how many things you will have read that aren't every book in the school library?"

Harry slumped for a moment, but when he perked up again a moment later, he could practically feel Pansy bristling. She was surely going to kill him if he made her look through another book.

"That's true actually. But there's my parent's library at home. I've probably read at least half of it, and it might be in there somewhere. I can look while I'm home for Christmas."

"Thank Merlin. So, we can stop reading now, right?" Draco raised his eyebrow.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Draco. We can stop reading now."

The months had passed a lot quicker than Harry had expected them to, so when Christmas was right around the corner, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. He'd been packed for the holidays for weeks when the day to go home did finally arrive, but it didn't quite dawn on him that he was going home at first because they’d been utterly too focused on working their way through the entirety of the library. So when that stopped, Harry suddenly began feeling very nervous about Christmas and what it might bring. Most notably with his father.

He had hoped his nerves weren’t noticeable to anybody else, but he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that it was Draco who did pick up on it in the end. On the last night before they were to take the train home for the holidays, Harry had gone to bed early with a headache, and said he wanted to sleep early for the journey. Pansy had complained that he was no fun, and Draco had only said ‘goodnight’. Then half an hour later, the blonde had followed him - Harry recognised his footsteps as he came up the stairs, and just rolled over and pulled the covers around him, even though the curtains were drawn so he couldn’t be seen. Draco didn’t go to his own bed though, and instead approached Harry’s, opening the curtains on the side that he was facing. Draco smiled.

“I knew it. You always face this way when you’re stressed. Budge over.”

Harry sighed, but sat up and shifted over so Draco could slide in next to him, closing the curtain again.

“Going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said nothing?”

“Um, no. Afraid not.” Draco nudged Harry’s shoulder with his. “Is it about your dad?”

Harry nodded, shoulders slumped.

"It's fine." Draco declared. "You can come to my house for Christmas."

Harry scoffed. "Brilliant. I'm sure your parents would really love that."

"What do you mean?"

"I just think there might be some animosity there."

Draco thought for a few moments, the tips of his ears going slightly pink.

"Okay, point taken." He nudged Harry's arm. "We'll work on that. Past is the past and all that. I think my mother would really quite like you actually."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll take your word for it."

Harry shuffled downwards so he was laying down, and looked up at Draco with a sort of curious face.

"We'll write every day." Draco decided. "Then if he gets too much, you can hurry off and say it's madly important that you reply to my letter."

Harry laughed, "that's accurate. Can't have you throwing any tantrums because I took my sweet time, eh?"

Draco tutted. “Yeah, yeah. Hilarious. Really.”

Harry watched him for another few moments, resisting the urge to move and rest his head on Draco’s arm. It wasn’t a particularly intrusive gesture, but Harry felt it was maybe a little beyond their friendship level. Harry had found himself growing very quickly attached to Draco, and had admitted to himself that Draco was probably his best friend. He had never felt this close with Ron growing up, and while his relationship with Fred and George was close enough, they were not quite what Harry would consider close friends. But Draco, for all his flaws, just seemed to understand Harry in a way he very much didn’t want to ruin by driving Draco away. He remembered the little things. He would knock Harry’s hand away from his mouth if he caught him biting the skin around his nails. He noticed that he always faced in the same direction in bed when he was stressed. He saw the disappointment in his face every time he didn’t receive a letter from his dad, and helped calm the anger that nearly always followed.

If all this had come about after only a few months, then Harry sincerely hoped it meant Draco would be in his life for many more years to come. And maybe one day there would be no second thoughts of fond gestures being too much.

He smiled. “Thank you, Draco.”

%%%

When the three of them got off the train, Pansy threw herself at Harry in an encompassing hug, fake blubbering about how the holidays were going to be entirely too unbearable without him. Then she flashed him a shit eating grin.

"Have a good Christmas Harry."

When she rushed off, he and Draco shared a glance and both rolled their eyes with small laughs. Then Draco went a little more serious, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist.

"You will be okay, won't you?"

Harry smiled softly, though it felt a little forced.

"It won't be as bad as I'm expecting. I still have my mum, and everyone. Maybe he'll have had enough time to think things over after all, and he'll be fine." He paused and glanced down at Draco's hand still at his wrist. "I'll write."

"You better."

It was Remus and Lily who had come to collect Harry from the train station, and he spotted them almost as soon as Draco left to meet his mother. He couldn't help the smile on his face as he ran up to fling his arms around Lily's shoulders. He'd grown in the time he'd been at school, and he felt a bubble of something in his chest as he realised just how much he'd missed her. And the others of course, but his mum was his mum after all.

"Good term, Prongslet?"

Harry faltered at the nickname, looking back at Remus with the sort of look he could always read. And he did. He smiled softly, and sort of sadly, but nodded his head once in understanding.

"Harry."

"It was really good. Took a little while to adjust, but I made some friends. And they're really good to me."

"The Malfoy boy right?" Lily asked, and Harry almost face palmed.

He'd not mentioned Draco in any of his letters, worrying about his family's opinions on the Malfoy family. But Lily was observant, and he'd very clearly left the train in the company of Draco.

"Yeah. He's really not-"

Lily rolling her eyes, and Remus laughing cut him off. With a shake of his head, Remus pulled Harry into a hug.

"You don't need to justify your friends, Harry."

"I just thought… well, because of his family and everything. He's nothing like what I expect they might have been like, but I just…"

"We won't have a problem unless he tries to kill you." Remus winked, snorting with laughter when Lily slapped his arm in retaliation.

"He wouldn't dare." Harry grinned, though a part of him still felt a little uneasy.

Because Remus and Lily were one thing, and while Harry didn't think Sirius would have a problem, considering his own alienation from family when he was younger, it seemed like maybe it would be just one more thing for James to dislike. Harry thought this was stupid, considering it had been James that Sirius had run away to when he needed to get away, but with so many months of silence, Harry had begun to expect the worst. At least then the only option was to be pleasantly surprised, rather than horribly let down.

The three of them walked through London to the Leaky Cauldron, then from there apparated home. Apparating always made Harry feel a little queasy, so he had to sit at the bottom of the stairs while waiting for his surroundings to stop swaying. Lily ruffled his hair with a smile, before going off to supposedly find Sirius and James.

Harry had very few memories of his family’s first home in Godric’s Hollow. They had moved not long after the attack and Voldemort’s subsequent defeat. The betrayal of Peter Pettigrew had in face proven that foes could be found anywhere, and even a small house well out of the way couldn’t protect them if it really came down to it. On top of this, at least in the beginning, James and Lily had wanted to be close to people - Remus and Sirius in particular, who had stuck by them through everything. And so it was decided that they would, all of them, move into Potter Manor. Harry had heard from Lily that initially it hadn’t been planned to be a permanent thing. Who needed such a big house for themselves? But as time went on, it became home to Lily and Remus and Harry as it had done for James and Sirius when they were boys, and they decided not to move after all. Besides, it belonged to the Potter’s, so who else would use it if not them?

“Is that my favourite Godson?”

Harry laughed, and pulled his shoes off, standing up from the steps just as Sirius rounded the corner with a huge grin on his face.

“Only Godson.” Harry reminded him as Sirius pulled him into a bear hug.

“Oh, don’t be so pedantic.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face, even when he asked. “How’s dad?”

“You mean, where’s dad?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, fingers grasping his shoulders as he looked Harry over. “You’ve grown.”

“Sirius…”

“He was in the living room last I saw him. Think your mum went in, so no doubt he’ll come find you if you don’t find him first.”

“Has he said anything to you? Anything at all? I mean, it’s just a house, he knows that right?”

Sirius paused, and it was a second too long. Harry sighed and pulled away from Sirius’ hold.

“No, of course not. Merlin only knows what he’ll say when I tell him my best friend is a bloody Malfoy.”

“Lucius’ boy?”

“Yes. And Pansy Parkinson.” He turned to pull his backpack on one shoulder, taking the handle of his trunk too, and preparing to lug it upstairs. “Oh, and they’re both much more delightful than Ron if you can believe it. Turns out he’s as much of a git as dad.”

Usually Sirius might have rolled his eyes, or cautioned against using such language against either of his parents, even if he rarely cared about the language Harry used. But this time was different, and Harry felt a little bubble of satisfaction bubble in his chest as he realised that Sirius probably agreed with him.

%%%

Harry took on the attitude that if his own dad wasn’t going to make an effort, then neither was he. It was maybe slightly concerning how easy it was to avoid speaking to James, even when he was right there in the same room as him. Remus had been the first to clock on to what he was doing, and when he questioned Harry about it, his answer was simple.

“I will speak to him, if he speaks to me first.”

It made the first few days pretty awkward. Harry was thankful that he had things to do. Ordering Christmas presents for people first of all, replying to Draco’s long winded letters, and spending copious amounts of time in the library. Remus would sometimes join him in there, and while Harry appreciated the sentiment, he found that his presence distracted him from the research he was trying to conduct. He also knew Remus wasn’t in the library just to keep him company. Because he was looking more and more tired by the day. He avoided the kitchens, and anywhere with strong smells, and bright lights. By the end of the week, everybody was whispering when speaking near him, so he wouldn’t wince at the sudden loud noise of somebody’s voice. And every evening at dinner, Remus would down his vial of Wolfsbane potion before eating. 

That Saturday, four days before Christmas, any awkwardness that had been lingering in the air between Harry and James completely disappeared. As the full moon rose, Harry grit his teeth against the sound of a loved one in pain, and then followed the very large, very intimidating, and very tired werewolf into the library. This was usually where Remus would curl up to sleep, and normally it was Sirius who joined him, but Harry had promised to watch over him as he slept. He wasn’t tired, he said, and he wanted to read. Having Remus for company might help, even if he was just sleeping in the corner. Sirius looked as though he was considering joining them anyway, but it was he who often contended with Remus and his struggles the days before a transformation and he looked exhausted. He ruffled Harry’s hair, thanked him and went to bed.

Lily offered him a smile, and a kiss on the forehead before also retiring for the night. She faltered a little when she realised that James had stayed by the library doors, but when she saw he and Harry were both staring intently at the other, she continued on her way, leaving them to it.

Harry’s mouth was set in a thin line, and he waited. Just waited. Patiently, but ready to lose control over the simmering anger that had been with him for months now. James had to talk to him now. He had to, or Harry didn’t think he could be understanding anymore. He was prepared to yell. He was prepared to slam the door in his face, and lock it behind him.

“Harry…” he began, and Harry tried really hard not to scoff.

“You know that’s taken you six days to say?”

“What?”

“Anything. A greeting. My name. Anything.”

“I’m sorry.” He slumped his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”

Harry thought bitterly that maybe him saying something had actually been worse. The anger was burning anyway, and James’ answers were not helping. When he said nothing more, Harry simply shook his head, and took another step towards the library.

“I’m in Slytherin dad. I’m friends with a Malfoy, and a Parkinson. You expected me to be in Gryffindor, and I get that, but this wasn’t easy for me either. You do realise I’m actually doing okay, right? I made friends. I made my House’s Quidditch team, and I’m the youngest seeker in a century. I’m doing well in my classes. I’m not picking fights, or losing house points or anything like that. You just can’t stand the fact that none of the good things were for the house you wanted me in.” He stopped and took a breath, biting back the urge to list anything more. “Figure out something to say. I haven’t just waited six days to hear my name. I waited almost four months for anything. And I got nothing. Goodnight.”

He then proceeded into the library, shutting the door behind him. He collected a pile of books he thought may have something, and made himself comfortable with some pillows next to a curled up Remus.

Chapter Text

It really was as if the world was against him.  The morning after the full moon was even more awkward with James than before, and as if that wasn't bad enough, Lily dropped the bomb that they had been invited to the Burrow for Christmas day. Harry wasn't sure how he hadn't figured that this was going to happen, or that the Weasleys would join them. They did it most years after all. He'd been too busy inside his own head to really think about it, and now it had been sprung on him, it was all he could do not to scream into his pillow. He wrote Draco a very ranty letter about everything. He skipped the part about his argument with James being on an already inherently stressful night, for Remus especially, but included the rest. Draco got back to him almost immediately, which meant Hedwig waking him up in the middle of the night by rapping on his window. He grumbled for a few moments, but couldn't help but appreciate Draco's urgency.

Harry,

Your father sounds like he's being a git. He's had months to come to terms with your house, and frankly I don't understand how he perhaps didn't see this coming. You're a better Slytherin than I think you'd ever have been a Gryffindor. Maybe I'm biased, or maybe that's just the truth.

As for Christmas, if you really don't want to go, fake being ill. Or then again, if it was my mother, just simply asking her is usually enough to convince her not to make me go somewhere. Maybe your mother would be the same? It's not exactly a lie to say you've had a rough time with Ron over the last few months, and Christmas isn't the time anybody would want to deal with hostilities like that. Worst case, the offer is still there to come to mine. I can keep you away from my Father, and my Mother would love to have you I'm sure.

You'll make it through, and then when we're back at school you'll have all the delightful company you need with me. And Pansy I guess.

Draco

Harry considered lying to Lily about being ill for a total count of two seconds before realising that was maybe the stupidest thing he'd ever thought about trying. Lily was way too smart to not see through his childish deceptions, and he had never managed to deceive her before, so he had no reason to think this time would be any different. He was about to give in and prepare himself to suck it up and go, but considered the other option Draco had presented him.

He caught Lily alone late one evening when she was in the kitchen decorating a large ginger bread house replica of the Burrow. She was decorating it by hand, the way she always preferred, but it was so detailed and meticulously done that you might not have noticed the difference unless you looked carefully or knew the baker.

"Mum?" He began, internally rolling his eyes at how soft and quiet his voice sounded.

Lily picked up on it too, and stopped what she was doing immediately, wiping her hands on her jeans, and giving her his full attention.

"What's wrong?"

Harry usually might have laughed at her immediate assumption that something was dreadfully wrong, but he didn't have it in him. He moved over to the counter she was working at, and lowered his voice slightly, just in case anybody was to walk past the kitchen.

"Nothing's wrong. Well, not really." He looked at the gingerbread Burrow, and frowned a little. "I don't want to go on Christmas day. I'd rather just… stay here."

"Why's that?"

"Me and Ron sort of don't get on anymore. He got really annoyed about the whole Slytherin thing, and I think it might have been fine, but then I made friends with Draco. And when he got really mad, I might have made it worse. I played into the whole Slytherin stereotype, just to get at him, but I'd hoped he'd realise nothing changed because of my house but that's not what happened at all. And I just…" he took a breath and brought his gaze back to Lily. "We're just not friends anymore, but things are pretty hostile between us, and I don't want to ruin everybody else's Christmas by going."

"It's your Christmas too, Harry."

"Then I don't want to ruin my Christmas by going."

Lily gave a small laugh, but he could tell she was worrying a little about this new development. Harry had told her over the years that while they were friends, Ron was not the person he got on with the most, but this was still a bit of a shock.

"Okay." She said simply.

"Okay?"

"Okay. You don't have to go." She went back to decorating the gingerbread Burrow. "Do you want Remus to stay with you? He's still not feeling too great, and I think he's looking for an excuse to not be around lots of people."

Harry thought for a moment. Remus always did suffer a little after the full moon, his senses were still painfully heightened, and his joints still popped for a few days afterwards most of the time. He'd spent the entirety of the day after asleep on the sofa, and still gone to bed early. He'd gone to his own bed, but Harry had heard him in the middle of the night as he made his way to Sirius' room instead. He could understand why the entire Weasley family on top of his own was perhaps not something he wanted right now.

"If he needs an excuse I'm happy to be one." He paused, then moved forward and tucked himself under her arm and hugging her tightly. "Thank you for understanding."

%%%

Come Christmas day, Harry was feeling overall a little more relaxed. He didn't have the idea that he might have to deal with Ron's glaring looming over him. And while conversations weren't particularly long, James was at least speaking to him now. He did think that might have had something to do with Lily though. He'd heard shouting from the landing the night before, and though he knew he shouldn't listen in, he heard his name, and found himself sat on the top step to hear.

"You're not in school anymore James. That is your son, what in Merlin's name does it matter what house he's in? He's safe. He's happy. He's doing well. I don't understand why it matters so much to you. If it mattered so much to him, maybe I'd see it, but you need to grow up."

He hadn't been able to hear James' response, but it hadn't mattered anyway.

"Anything interesting?" Sirius' voice asked, and Harry looked up to find him leaning on the banister, looking down at him.

Harry blushed, embarrassed at being caught, but shrugged.

"I heard my name."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did." Sirius moved to sit beside him on the step. "Me and Remus aren't the only ones who are mad about how James is taking this."

"I yelled at him the other night."

"So I heard." He gave a sly grin, "Or rather so Remus heard. Then he told me."

"I get it, I think. At least a little bit. Still sucks though."

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up."

Harry raised his eyebrows, watching his Godfather expectantly.

"I was on my way to give it to you, but you were being a little sneak. Next time, maybe this will help you out."

Sirius handed him a rolled up load of cloth. A cloak, Harry realised when he unwrapped it.

"It was your dad's."

"Does he know you're giving it to me?"

"He should do. We agreed it was going to be given to you when you went to Hogwarts. It got us in and out of a lot of trouble in school, so perhaps be a little smarter than us."

Harry fingered the soft fabric of it for a moment. It was thin, and really quite beautifully patterned. He didn't think it would usually be anything he'd wear, but when he put it on, he realised quickly that it didn't particularly matter.

"You had an invisibility cloak, in school? "

"Oh yeah. Poor Minnie barely knew what to do with herself at times. And now, so do you."

"Why not tomorrow?"

"You always open something on Christmas Eve."

And with that, Sirius ruffled his hair and stood, throwing Harry a wink as he descended the stairs, leaving him sitting there with the cloak.

Remus brought it up the next day once everyone had left for the Weasleys. They'd taken up in the library, curled on one of the sofas in there. Remus was reading a muggle book of some sort, and Harry had a large pile of books next to him to look through, the cat curled up between them.

"Sirius give you the cloak?" He didn't look up from his book.

"Last night."

"Good."

Harry closed the book he was on, keeping his thumb inside to save his page, and looked up at Remus.

"I wouldn't have thought you would have agreed with me having it. At least not in school."

Remus chuckled softly. "I was just as bad as the rest in school Harry."

"Yeah, but you're so… you. Voice of reason. Responsible. Like mum."

He laughed again, "Your mum had her moments too you know. The cloak is yours now Harry. It was always going to be when you started school and I think you're mature enough to be sensible with it." He looked back at his book. "Besides, it's the perfect way to mess with Minnie."

Harry snickered and opened his book again.

"Why are you still reading all those books? Surely you're bored to death by now?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But I need to find something, and it's just nowhere. I've seen it before, I just can't remember where ."

"Well, what are you looking for? I could try and help."

Harry thought about it for a moment. He didn't want to risk being stopped in his endeavour, but then again, Remus had made his point regarding the invisibility cloak, and this was just research after all.

"I'm looking for information on somebody called Nicholas Flamel."

Remus looked at him, and Harry was sure he was about to get twenty questions on why he was searching for some random bloke. Or even perhaps not so random if it turned out that Remus knew who it was that he'd been looking for. But then his face furrowed into a thinking face. He then snapped his book shut, and stood - perhaps slower than he'd intended to - and gestured with a jerk of his head for Harry to follow. Harry did so, leaving the book behind and following as Remus led him to the dining room, and walked over to a display of Chocolate Frog Cards they had in there.

Harry couldn't remember exactly when it had started - the five of them collecting the cards together and displaying them in hopes to one day have all of them collected - but he remembered the countless Hallowe'ens and Christmases and Birthdays all sat around tearing into the boxes hoping that the card would be a new one. They also had a box of all the one that were repeats. Harry would sometimes sit with the Weasleys when the tradition was new and trade with them, but now it was more because nobody had the courage to throw the spares out.

"I think I'd remember if Nicholas Flamel had a card."

"No, no I don't think he does. But I think- yes, there! Dumbledore."

Harry looked closer, read through the paragraph on the Headmaster's card, and almost facepalmed.

"I knew I'd seen it. I've been looking through completely the wrong books."

"That you have. But listen, we have a few hours at least before the others get back. How about I help you look, and you tell me what all this is about? You're terrible at hiding things you know, so this is clearly something important and probably not quite allowed."

“I hate that I’m never going to be able to get anything past you.” He huffed.

But he dutifully told Remus everything, from beginning to end, as they looked through books that were much more promising. Remus sat and listened to Harry, face schooled into an expression that gave away none of what he was thinking about it all. Harry wasn’t sure if this was comforting or not, and once he finished, Remus stayed quiet for a long longer than Harry would have liked.

“I can see perhaps why they’d want to keep something important in the school. It’s definitely safe - though I’d imagine Gringotts would still be safer. Unless Dumbledore has some other plans with it. The dog is a little concerning, but I suppose they’ve kept far more dangerous things within the confines of Hogwarts grounds.”

“More dangerous than a vicious three-headed dog?”

Remus raised an eyebrow and Harry gave a small chuckle of embarrassment.

“Right. A werewolf.”

“As for Snape, I don’t know. He was a slimy git in school, slightly more tolerable during the few times I’ve seen him afterwards, but I honestly don’t know. But meddling in those sorts of things is perhaps above you Cub. If you’re really concerned, go to Minnie.”

“Well obviously we weren’t going to do anything about it ourselves. We just wanted to figure the whole thing out. See what they were hiding under Fluffy - that’s the dog’s name. We weren’t going to get involved.”

“Well that’s good to hear. I also might have found an answer to your curiosities.” He turned the book he had in his lap towards Harry. “Nicholas Flamel. Creator of the Philosopher’s stone.”

Chapter Text

Harry was anxious to find Draco and Pansy when he got on the train back to Hogwarts. His goodbyes with his family had been harder than he expected. He thanked Remus again for helping him, sarcastically promised Sirius he wouldn’t use the invisibility cloak for mischief, and hugged Lily tightly, and refused to let go for a few long moments. Then he’d looked at his dad, who offered him a smile - the first of the entire break.

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to fix it, I know. But I am sorry. Slytherin isn’t so bad. At least, not with you in their ranks.”

Harry knew he was trying, and meant well, but it still didn’t feel quite as genuine as he would have liked. But he had more important things to deal with, so he’d smiled back, albeit a little awkwardly, and given James a quick hug. He knew without a doubt that just like James had said, a single apology was not going to be enough to make up, and Harry was still angry - he could feel it tight in his chest. But it was a start, and it was better than nothing.

He tugged the sleeves of his sweater up as he made his way down the train looking for his friends. It was the sweater that Molly Weasley had made for him for Christmas. She’d always included him in her list of sweaters, ever since he could remember. He kept every single one, a whole array of colour in his wardrobe, each one matching whatever his favourite colour had been at the time of her making them. This one was the first one to break that pattern. It was a deep, beautiful green, with the ‘H’ in silver. It was too big, but Harry found he preferred it baggy, and he was eternally grateful for Molly’s show of support. Even more so because Harry hadn’t been there to accept the gift himself. He’d also realised quickly that besides his uniforms for school, the sweater was the first green item of clothing he’d owned, and he thought that to be really quite unfortunate because green actually suited him.

He tugged the sleeves back from over his hands again, then grinned as he spotted a shock of platinum blonde hair, and launched himself into the compartment where Draco and Pansy were sitting. As soon as he’d sat down, Pansy immediately clung onto his arm with a squeal.

“Please do not deafen me, Pans, that would be a disaster.”

“Oh, I can’t help it.” She pretended to swoon, dramatically fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Draco snickered, kicking her lightly in the shin.

“And you’re not?” She stuck her tongue out.

Draco made an offended sort of noise, and Harry joined in with Pansy’s laughter. He settled in his seat, content. He missed his family, but being with Draco and Pansy was a happy place too.

%%%

"I've heard of the Philosopher's Stone." Draco nodded thoughtfully. "It's supposed to be able to turn any metal to gold."

"I don't think that's the important bit." Pansy frowned, turning to the blonde. "Was it not the Philosopher's Stone that could be used to make the Elixir of Life?"

Draco's eyes widened and he turned to Harry, but even still there was a level of confusion in his gaze. Harry voices his question.

"What on Earth would Snape want with everlasting life?"

That night was the last before classes started up again, but Harry couldn't sleep, no matter how many times he rolled over, or how many ways he tried. In the end he decided it was fate, and decided to try out the invisibility cloak. He hadn't really intended to go very far, but he hadn't yet told Pansy or Draco about the cloak, and the quietness of the castle, and being left alone with his thoughts turned out to be very calming.

In fact, it calmed him enough that he felt about ready to go back to bed, and was about to head back to the Common Room when he turned a corner and almost walked right into two figures. He slapped his hand to his mouth to stop from crying out in shock, and almost kicked himself at the noise it made anyway. Thankfully though, the two figures were too engrossed in their conversation to notice him, and he made to edge around them and continue on his way to avoid them, but something about their secretive nature, and the conversation they were having made Harry stop before he got too far away.

“I-I would have thought y-you’d want t-t-to meet somewhere a little m-more secluded.” Professor Quirrell stammered.

"So you could find a way to slither out of it?" Severus Snape snarled back. "I don't think so. The students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, but they also aren't supposed to be out of bed at this time, so I think we'll be just fine, don't you?"

Harry's view of Quirrell was slightly obscured as he inched around the figures, but he assumed he must have nodded his head, because their conversation continued.

"Have you figured out how to get past the dog yet?"

"S-Severus, I-"

"Don't try lying to me Quirrell. Just because you have everybody else fooled does not mean you can fool me. I think you need to have a long think about where your loyalties lie."

Sensing the end of the conversation, Harry made quick work in backing away from the two. When both departed in opposite directions, with Snape heading right towards him, Harry panicked, and slipped into the first classroom he saw with an ajar door. It was dark inside, but it mattered little, and he simply stood by the door, still as stone hearing his heart pounding in his ears as he listened to Snape's footsteps recede.

Risking a slow release of breath, Harry removed the cloak, wiping the sweat on his brow away with his wrist, moving the hair that had clung to his forehead, and looked around the classroom.

It was quite a sight to behold. The classroom itself looked strange anyway, as all the desks and chairs had been pushed to the sides to make a large space in the centre, and the disused look of the room made Harry feel a little strange. It was the same sort of feeling you got at a bus stop in the middle of the night, or going to an abandoned building. But what was stranger still was the large ornate mirror stood in the centre of the room. Perhaps it was the utter strangeness of it that compelled Harry to approach it, tucking the invisibility cloak under his arm and keeping an ear out for anybody coming towards the room as he stepped closer to it.

At first it just appeared to be a normal mirror, albeit in a strange place. But as he grew closer the first thing he noticed was that the mirror didn't show him in his Pyjamas as he was wearing now, instead it portrayed him in his school uniform. His Slytherin school uniform.

Strange, but he supposed in a school for magic it wasn't the weirdest thing for a mirror to do. But then he got even closer. As he approached, another figure joined him in the reflection. He spun round fast enough to make himself dizzy trying to see who had snuck up behind him, but he was alone. He turned back slower, still a little cautious but he relaxed a little once he took a closer look.

His mother. Smiling and beautiful as always.

Another step showed him Sirius, throwing him the exact wink he gave when he was up to no good, and another step gave him Remus, arm around Sirius' waist and smiling warmly.

One more step gave him James.

He paused here, not entirely sure what he was expecting. His mother, Sirius and Remus all had smiles, proud looks, and he hated that part of him expected less from his dad. After the last few months, it had clearly gotten to his head that he was worth less now to his father, and he didn't like that this thought was coming to him now.

But then he forced himself to properly look at the reflection of James, and he was smiling, just like the rest. He stepped closer, and the reflections became clearer, and James placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, shaking slightly so his reflection shook with it. Harry couldn't help himself, and reached up to the shoulder, but of course no hand was there. He looked at himself in the mirror, and for a moment it showed him as he was; he looked so sad. But then the reflection changed to match the image, and he was grinning. Green eyes - Lily's eyes - bright with happiness. And Harry knew he was imagining it, but it almost looked as though his scar was smaller. Like this reflection version of him even had better luck at hiding the mark that made him so obvious. Harry felt a flash of anger, for just a moment, before he sank to his knees despite himself, and sat in front of the mirror until dawn.

%%%

The next day was even rougher than Harry had expected it to be, considering he was running on no sleep.

The classes themselves went by alright, except Harry thought Quirrell looked jumpier than usual in DADA, and he realised he'd forgotten to tell Draco and Pansy about the conversation he'd overheard the night previous. He had been a little too lost in thought about the mirror too though.

It didn't help when he'd then had Potions later in the day, and Snape had been in a fouler mood than usual. Harry perhaps got more of the flak for that considering he was barely paying attention. Draco and Pansy tutted and told him he should have slept.

In all honesty though, Harry was considering his options. At this point it was becoming quite clear. The Philosopher's Stone was the perfect thing to make somebody very rich, or very immortal. Both were appealing things depending on the person. Because of this, many people would clearly want to steal it, and perhaps Nicholas Flamel asked his friend and Alchemical partner, Professor Albus Dumbledore to take the stone from it's vault in Gringotts, and instead secure it in Hogwarts where it would be potentially safer. However, somebody was still, in fact, trying to steal it.

Now the only problem Harry had was figuring out who.

He really wanted to continue suspecting Snape. He seemed like the sort of bloke shifty enough to try it, and he'd already had the one run in with Fluffy, but what on Earth would he want with wealth and life any more than the average person might want? It didn't make sense to him.

But Quirrell made even less sense. Yet the conversation in the hallway could really have gone both ways. Snape badgering Quirrell on how to get past Fluffy, so he can steal the stone. Or Snape badgering to make sure Quirrell hadn't found out how to get past Fluffy and steal the stone.

" Potter . While I'm sure the inside of your head is so desperately exciting, it does not excuse you from paying attention to my lesson." Snape had sneered at him after the third time of him getting distracted, and after that Harry tried to put it to the side for now.

At dinner that night, Draco and Pansy had sandwiched him on one side of the table. Pansy looped her arm through his, and Draco had turned in his seat and both were staring intently.

Harry hadn't responded to it at first, he was too busy trying to ignore the glares that had started up again from Ron. Personally Harry thought he would have been happy to not have to host him on Christmas Day, but then again maybe he was just scowling at the sweater Molly had made him, as he was wearing it again now. Maybe Ron was still coming to terms with the fact that he was the only one of his family to have a problem.

Eventually his friends grew impatient.

"Out with it." Draco poked him in the side. "What's been dragging you off to fantasy land all day?"

Harry side-eyed them both, but sighed. "Okay, but you can't be angry that I didn't tell you sooner."

They were not angry, but demanded to see the cloak, and hear word for word the conversation he'd heard. Draco was also enamoured with the idea of the Mirror Harry had found, but when Harry had gone quiet after explaining what he'd seen, and Pansy had suggested that it might show you something you wanted, Draco had dropped his badgering about joining Harry if he went again.

And he did go again.

Draco had been awake when he'd gone, as the three of them had gone to bed quite late by the time Harry had caught them up on everything. They'd sat on one of the more isolated sofas, Pansy laying across the two boys as they spoke. Pansy thought Harry's potential suspicions of Quirrell might have something to them, while Draco had scoffed and said one could only hope, and that if it was Snape badgering for information, then the stone would be gone by week's end.

Harry had however voiced to them what he'd figured out the more he thought about the conversation. Regardless of which way round the thief was, there were clearly more defenses in place than just Fluffy. And maybe that would buy them time to figure out what exactly they were supposed to do, as three kids who shouldn't even know about the stone.

Draco rolled over to look at him when Harry left his bed. Harry had opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and Draco saved him from the awkwardness.

"Don't stay there all night. You need to sleep too."

Then he rolled back over.

Harry shuffled under the cloak towards the classroom with the mirror contemplating his day, and the rough patches of it. Ron's glaring in particular had really gotten to him by the end of dinner and he didn't know if he was more saddened or angered by the unfairness of it all.

That night, a reflection of Ron joined James and the others. He flung his arm over Harry's shoulder and looked to be talking at him very animatedly about something like he'd always done growing up.

Harry stayed all night.

Chapter Text

Draco said nothing when he saw Harry arrive back at the dormitories the following morning as he was getting dressed. And he said nothing when he watched Harry leave again that night. He didn’t say anything for the following mornings and nights either. Pansy was not quite so on board, and commented on how tired he looked. He could tell that she knew why he was so tired, but she was at least nice enough not to say anything about the mirror explicitly, though he had a sneaking suspicion she wanted to.

His visits soon came to an end however, before Pansy’s concern grew further. He’d been sitting in front of the mirror again, almost dozing off, but not wanting to leave, when he heard the soft clearing of a throat from behind him. He was up in a flash, invisibility cloak tucked tightly under his arm, hoping it might avoid notice.

Albus Dumbledore stood a little ways away from him, hands folded neatly in front of him as he stared down at Harry through his half moon spectacles.

“Good evening, Harry. Back again I see?”

Harry felt a little at odds to admit it, but he had always found Dumbledore a little… off putting. He knew why everybody revered him, and he deserved a lot of the praise he got - of course he did. For one, being the only wizard Voldemort ever feared had to be a great accomplishment, and Harry did now know much more about his alchemical works due to their research into Nicholas Flamel. And having grown up learning about the war, and the Order of the Phoenix, from members of it no less, he didn’t doubt that Dumbledore deserved the adoration he held with most people. But for Harry, there was just something he couldn’t quite put his finger on that made him almost dislike the man. It was nothing he’d admit out loud of course, but even in the way Dumbledore regarded him now, Harry thought that maybe the Headmaster already knew as much.

“It would seem so.” Harry ventured.

“I would assume, by now, you have figured out what it is the mirror does?”

“It didn’t take me too long to figure out the inscription. I show not your face but your heart's desire. ”

“And you see acceptance among those you love.”

“...Yes, but I might not have come so often if I’d known I wasn’t alone.” Harry paused, suddenly feeling like that was not the sort of thing you were supposed to say to a Professor. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for making a habit of being out of bed past curfew. I’ll be going now.”

He made to put on the cloak, stopped only when Dumbledore smiled, his eyes gleaming as he tilted his head slightly.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to want, Harry. But I’m afraid I must ask you not to come looking for the mirror again. Tomorrow it is being moved to a new home, and to search for it will only bring sorrow. It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live.”

“Right.” Said Harry flatly, “Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore.”

Harry put the cloak on and headed to the door, only too aware that Dumbledore’s eyes still seemed to follow him. As he reached the door, a wave of bravery hit him, and just before he disappeared into the corridor, he looked over his shoulder, still under the cloak, and called back out softly, his voice carrying with an echo in the large room.

“I hope Nicholas Flamel is well.”

%%%

Harry did heed Dumbledore’s words about not going looking for the mirror again, but it wasn’t entirely because he wanted to. His next Quidditch match was coming up, which was a stressful thought anyway after the jinxed broom of the last game, but the whole situation was made worse when he was told that Snape was refereeing.

Harry felt rather bad actually, that his first thought had been that at least it would be a relatively easy win, and he had to mentally slap himself out of that mindset and once he did he felt even worse. The Hufflepuffs didn’t stand a chance, and Harry knew that was unfair, but realised pretty quickly there was nothing he could do about it. And even if there was, he was slightly more worried about having to potentially wrestle with another jinx on his broom let alone an unfair bias. There would be no Weasley twins to help him out this time.

Most of his free time was quickly taken up on the Quidditch pitch, training with the rest of the team.

“Just because it’s Snape refereeing doesn’t mean we can be slack.” Flint lectured them, shouting over the wind as the team hovered in the air around him. “In fact I’d probably go as far as saying play by the book for once. We don’t need the whole school in a ruckus, if Potter’s broom was jinxed last time, chaos in the stands would make it easier for another attempt.”

Harry went red at the mention - the last thing he needed was to appear weak to his own team because of something that hadn’t even been his fault. But nobody was looking at him, and nobody really seemed to care much about it, other than Flint’s orders to play fair. It wasn’t usually in Slytherin’s strategy list to play fairly, and especially not when they had such a clear win. But Flint merely told them to deal with it, and set them off on some drills. Harry readied himself for his own drill, watching for the Snitch to leave the chest as the bludgers and quaffle did so. But it never came. He frowned, wondering if he’d actually managed to miss it, when Flint whistled at him, holding the small golden ball between his fingers and flashing a wide smirk. Harry rolled his eyes with a nervous smile, but approached Flint’s broom.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure the reason Snape wanted to ref so badly for this match is also to make sure you don’t get bucked and break your neck. And usually I prefer to draw out matches with Hufflepuff - they play fairer than Gryffindor and Ravenclaw put together but they’re good, and it makes for good boasting when we win, but if ever there was a time for you to shut the match down as quickly as possible, this would be it. Understand?"

Harry nodded, shifting on his broom nervously. "Yeah, find and catch the snitch before somebody tries to kill me again."

Flint gave a half shrug and released the snitch. "Exactly."

The night before the match, Harry had managed to get himself worked up about the whole thing, and more than once, Draco had pulled his hands away from his mouth to stop him biting the skin around his nails to the point of bleeding.

"What can we do?" Draco asked, shuffling closer to Harry so they were pressed side by side.

Harry appreciated the gesture, and it also stopped him from fidgeting quite as much as he had been, for fear of annoying him.

"Break my arm so I don't have to play?" He ventured hopefully.

Draco almost snorted, "Yeah, I don't think so. You're too good - they'd never find a good enough sub in time. Besides, do you want people to think you're a coward?" He raised an eyebrow, moving into Harry's line of sight. "You're no coward, Harry Potter."

Harry smiled softly at that one and Pansy nudged him from her seat on his other side.

"We'll watch them." She told him firmly. "I'll keep an eye on Quirrell, Draco can take Snape and if we see anything…" She made a gesture like waving a wand with the slyest grin Harry had ever seen adorn her face.

He knew very well both of them would have quite the issue trying to hex a teacher - even one such as Quirrell - but he was eternally grateful at their attempts to calm him nonetheless. He looped his arms through theirs and pulled them a little closer, wriggling to get comfier on the sofa.

"Thank you."

He felt calmer for the rest of the night as they sat there looped on the sofa, talking about whatever came to their minds besides Quidditch, Alchemical Stones, plots to steal them, or even three-headed dogs.

When the boys parted from Pansy to head to bed later on, Harry found himself feeling brave. He'd grown up around people who constantly used physical touch as a way of showing affection. His mother had pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his forehead right where his scar began for as long as he could remember. James had ruffled his hair and shaken his shoulder every single time he'd done something that impressed him. Sirius enjoyed giving Harry piggybacks, sometimes more than Harry enjoyed receiving them, and Remus was all for firm shoulder squeezes and resting his chin on top of Harry's head when they hugged. Even at the Weasley's, the twins especially had always rough-housed with him like he was their brother too, and when they'd gone to Potter manor, and Lily had shown them all muggle movies, the entire Weasley brood and Harry had always made a too-small pillow fort and practically laid on top of each other to watch.

His relationship with Draco and Pansy seemed different. Sure, on the sofas they would sit shoulder to shoulder, and Pansy was very big on draping herself across the boy's laps when she felt like it. But Harry wasn't sure how comfortable either would be with his own form of physical contact - that is, he hadn't actually hugged either of them as a way of saying 'thank you', or 'I'm sorry' or 'I appreciate you'. But tonight it was definitely bravery he was feeling, and he tapped Draco on the shoulder before the blonde could climb into bed.

"Yeah?" He turned, and Harry quickly leaned in to hug him before he could change his mind.

Draco seemed shocked at first, giving a nervous little laugh. But a second before Harry contemplated pulling away and apologising, Draco wrapped his own arms around him, and hugged him back.

"This is unexpected, are you sure you're okay?" He mumbled, so only Harry could hear, and anybody still awake in their dorm would not.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

Draco laughed softly, "I think you need some sleep."

But he didn't let go until Harry did, and gave him a smile that told Harry he was welcome. That he didn't need to thank him. And when Harry grinned, he just rolled his eyes and pushed Harry towards his own bed.

"I'm not entirely kidding, you have a big match tomorrow."

And Harry found it easy to doze off once he'd settled and, strangely, found comfort in realising he'd been stupid to get himself so worked up over a hug .

But still, it felt worth it.

%%%

When Harry found out that Dumbledore was going to be watching the game, he felt that any normal person might have felt better about the whole somebody-trying-to-kill-him business. Because surely nobody was stupid enough to try anything with Dumbledore there. Harry, on the other hand, must not have been very normal at all, or perhaps it was just the Slytherin in him talking, because his first thought was how much more difficult it would be for Draco and Pansy to do anything if Snape or Quirrell did try anything.

These worries were pushed easily from his mind when the game began however, as he focused all his attention on finding the snitch. He was lucky enough to find it fairly quickly, and even luckier still to be closer than the other seeker. But this was playing out somewhat like his last game, and Harry felt his heart jump to his throat when he bolted after the snitch, and felt resistance beneath him. It was small at first, easily mistakable for air resistance given the wind, but as he tightened his grip on the broom handle, he felt it jerk beneath him in retaliation and all he could think was 'here we go again.'

However this time, the movements stopped almost as suddenly as they began. As he regained control his gaze immediately snapped to the Slytherin stands, looking to catch Draco or Pansy's eye, but neither of them were there. He turned to Snape, far below him, but he wasn't looking either, and in the teacher's stands, the only two watching him were McGonagall and Dumbledore. Dumbledore was sat there quite happily smiling to himself and Harry almost scoffed, but McGonagall was nodding to him, trying to force an encouraging smile but wringing her hands as she always did when she was nervous. And Aunt Min was very rarely nervous. She gave him another nod, and he returned it, bringing his broom about and focussing once again on trying to find the snitch. He saw it a mere second after the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, had bolted after something, the golden glint also catching his eye as he followed the other Seeker's example. Very quickly, the two were neck and neck, and Diggory risked a glance over at him, a gesture Harry barely saw in his peripheral.

"Glad to see you're still in the game." Diggory yelled over the wind.

"Glad to see you're so eager to lose." Harry replied, pushing forward, and reaching out towards the snitch.

Diggory did the same, but though his arms were longer, Harry had the advantage of being just in front of him, and Diggory seemed hesitant to barge into his side in case they both lost the snitch. He was flying very close though, and Harry almost tried to knock him. But then the snitch was in his hand, wings fluttering maniacally against the inside of his hand for a moment before they retracted and Harry was grinning.

Cedric Diggory looked annoyed, but he forced a smile and nodded, "Well done."

Harry gave a small sympathetic shrug but couldn't lessen his smile. "And you."

He might have said more, but that was when his team surrounded him, jostling him, ruffling his hair, patting him hard on the back. He could barely hear their individual congratulations as they all tried to shout above the rest. Apparently after his quick disappearance after the last game, they were not so quick to let him vanish this time. But as they all touched ground, they dispersed to celebrate everyone else and Harry was able to step to the side as Pansy and Draco came rushing out onto the pitch to greet him.

"I don't know what you did, but thank you for doing it." He said once they were in earshot.

But the two looked at each other, and Pansy shook her head as Draco said, "We didn't do anything."

"Then who stopped my broom?"

"I did."

All three of them looked, and standing there, looking a little nervous, was Hermione Granger. She was alone, but Harry could see Neville waiting for her by the exit onto the pitch, and he figured Ron would likely not be so far away.

"Thank you."

She waved her hand, "Don't mention it. But I did wonder if maybe I could speak with you? It's important but… private." She nodded subtly towards the rest of Harry's team, and Harry frowned a little.

"Of course."

The three of them met back up with Hermione after Harry had showered and changed, under one of the stands. In the distance they could hear the crowds of students making their way back up to the castle, and they waited until they were halfway up before Hermione began. Neville was with her now, and so was Ron, but it seemed begrudging.

"So, we were in the Forbidden Forest the other night."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, "You were?"

"Listen, I got caught up in their troubles." She nodded towards Ron and Neville, bristling as she did so. "We were helping Hagrid get a Dragon off the grounds."

"A dragon? " Pansy squeaked incredulously.

"Yes." Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "But anyway, we got caught by Filch on the way back to our Common Room, and then had to serve detention with Hagrid in the Forest."

"Well, at least we're not the only ones unable to stay out of trouble." Draco scoffed, nudging Harry in the side with a snicker.

"Yes, well unfortunately this might involve you too." Hermione said to Harry with a sympathetic sort of smile.

"That doesn't sound good."

"There was something in there. We were looking for an injured unicorn, and we found it but- but-" Her lip began quivering a little, and she turned to the boys, clearly hoping they would help her out.

Neville looked a little nauseous even listening to it, so it ended up being Ron who finished it off, though he kicked his toe in the ground and didn't look at them as he explained.

"There was something in there. Someone. Drinking the unicorn's blood. And Firenze - one of the centaurs who lives in the forest - he said something. And Hermione thought… well, truth be told we all thought you should know." He caught Harry's eye then, and it was the first time in months Ron had looked at him with anything but anger. But this now was a look of fear, and Harry wasn't sure which was worse.

"They think it might be… might be You-Know-Who. I don't know how, or why, but… but it makes sense. It was terrifying and what it was doing to that unicorn." He shook his head, taking a few moments to compose himself. "And Hagrid just looked resigned to it. I think he thinks so too."

Everything went very quiet, and nobody said anything for a few long moments. Harry felt like he was in shock. And he felt guilty for it. Everything was out of focus like he was looking but not seeing and he couldn't make his body move, or his mouth speak, and he was pretty sure he wasn't breathing. But this reaction didn't belong to him, surely. His parents deserved this reaction. Sirius, Remus. People who lived through it deserved this reaction, but surely this wasn't his trauma, so why was this news affecting him when he didn't even know if it was true?

But then it hit him, at the same time he forced a breath into his lungs finally. It didn't matter if it wasn't his, because if this was true then it would be soon, and it seemed foolish to assume it wasn't true. Everything seemed to click into place, and it seemed even more important now to figure out who was planning on stealing the stone, and how, because they weren't stealing it for themselves. They were stealing it for Voldemort, and with the Philosopher's Stone in his possession, another war would come right to their doorsteps.

He snapped back to reality then, and everybody was looking at him. Draco had his fingers wrapped around his wrist and Pansy was holding only the sleeve of his shirt. Hermione, Ron and Neville were watching him intently, like they weren't sure how to approach him. He took a breath, shaky as it was, and tried not to let his panic show.

"Thank you." He nodded, voice sincere. "We have to go."

And then he all but dragged Draco and Pansy away, half sprinting half staggering up to the castle.

Chapter Text

The next couple of hours involved a lot of running for the trio, with Harry leading the charge, following a train of thought that Draco and Pansy had barely a chance of keeping up with. Their first stop had been the owlery.

Harry watched as Hedwig flew into the distance, carrying his letter with her. It was addressed to Lily, but he knew the others would read it too - that is, if they were able to read his handwriting in the state it was in. It had been a rushed letter to say the least, and he had made a point that he didn't have all the details and that he was hoping to be wrong. But they needed to know, even if there was only a small chance of the information being correct. They deserved to know, and he knew it wouldn't be fair to keep something like that from them.

He turned away once Hedwig was out of sight, and was met with Draco and Pansy's looks of sympathy.

"Now what?" Draco ventured, his voice soft as he took half a step towards him.

"Now we talk to Hagrid."

Neither of them argued, and that was when Harry realised how seriously these two must also be taking this. And something deep in his chest swelled with appreciation for the both of them. They too had something to lose if the world turned dark again. Draco was the exact opposite to Harry - his family, regardless of their loyalties now, had allied themselves with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And Pansy's family may not have been Death Eaters themselves, but they had sided more heavily with Voldemort than the Order, and here they were, standing with him. Standing against even the idea of Voldemort's return. He almost scoffed as he remembered a comment Ron had made months prior. Sided with the worst kind indeed. They simply followed his lead as they hiked down to Hagrid's hut, and Harry knocked at the door. Or rather, pounded, quite aggressively until the gamekeeper answered.

"'Arry! Wha's got ye all worked up then?"

"Don't ask me how we know, we promise we won't tell." He began. "But I need to know where you got a dragon."

Hagrid looked at him for a long moment, clearly pondering how to approach such a situation, but Harry gave him a pleading look and Hagrid let out a huge sigh, moving to step outside and slowly sit on the step.

"Jus' some bloke in the pub. Won th' egg in a game o' cards." Hagrid shrugged.

"Did you see what he looked like?"

"No, 'e kept 'is 'ood up."

"Did you talk?"

"Well, yeh - tha's how he came to give me th' egg. Wanted t' know I'd look after it, like. Told 'im I got some experience."

"Did you tell him about Fluffy?"

Harry was getting more restless by the second, and with each new question, Draco and Pansy seemed to be figuring out where he was going with this. Hagrid on the other hand just looked more and more confused. And a little sheepish.

"I s'pose so, yeh. 'E was interested in Fluffy. 'Ow I look after 'er like. 'Ow I keep 'er under control, wha' wi' 'er being so big."

"And you told him?"

"Now just what is this abou'?"

"Hagrid please, did you tell him how to get past her?"

"I told 'im 'ow I get 'er t' sleep, I guess. Jus' play 'er some music."

Harry breathed out what probably was supposed to be a 'thank you' then was off running  before Hagrid could get another word out. The other two followed, yelling after him, asking where they were going now. What plan did he have? What exactly was it he was thinking? He didn't stop to answer until they were back up at the castle, and in an empty corridor.

"We need to tell someone. Whoever was under that hood is who wants the stone, and if Hagrid told him how to get past Fluffy, then we're at a disadvantage. We don't know what the other defenses are, but now they know how to get past the dog. But who can we tell who will actually believe us without proof of who?"

"I hate to say it," Draco frowned, "but Dumbledore?"

Pansy shook her head, "I heard some older years saying his office has a password, we can't just stand around waiting for someone to go past. That could be hours."

"Then who? We can't go to Snape for Merlin's sake, head of house or not." Draco flapped his hands around, exasperated, and Harry vaguely noted that he'd never seen Draco so worked up outside the confines of the common room.

"Maybe not our head of house."

"McGonagall." Pansy caught on.

"McGonagall." Harry agreed.

And once again they were off.

When they burst into McGonagall's classroom, she'd looked angry for a split second before noting the expression on Harry's face. She placed her quill down before they'd made it to her desk, and waited patiently with an eyebrow raised while they took a second to catch their breath.

"Aunt Min- Professor- Dumbledore-"

"Potter, breathe, I can't understand a word you're saying."

Harry did as he was told, barely noticing she'd called him 'Potter' but was still mildly out of breath when he spoke again, not wanting to waste time that might already be precious.

"Please, we need to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

"I'm afraid you're about ten minutes too late. He's been called away urgently by the Ministry." She told them calmly, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "Something, perhaps I could help you with?"

Harry turned to look at Draco and Pansy, though their guidance couldn't have meant much in this scenario. Truth be told, he trusted McGonagall more than he did Dumbledore, and thought perhaps this was a preferred outcome anyway. But Draco and Pansy only nodded, trusting in his lead. He turned back to McGonagall.

"It's… it's about the Philosopher's Stone."

McGonagall paled and her spine straightened in a split second, as she peered down at the three of them.

"How do you-"

"Please don't ask how we know, it's a really long story. But please believe us this is important. We think someone is going to try and steal it."

McGonagall gave a sharp laugh, though it seemed a little shaky. "It was moved here in the first place to avoid it being stolen. Hogwarts is difficult to get into unless authorised my dear boy."

"Not if you're already inside." Harry retaliated desperately. "We think a teacher is trying to steal it. They know how to get past Fluffy, and they might know how to get past the other defenses too."

"Fluffy?" She frowned, then pinched the bridge of her nose with a groan, "oh Hagrid."

"Aunt Min, please we wouldn't say anything if we didn't think it was important."

"Listen. This really is none of your business. I will look into it, on principle, but I implore the three of you to put it out of your minds. Now I suggest you return to your Common Rooms, and perhaps try to avoid more trouble on the way."

Harry wanted to argue his case further, but McGonagall had that look on her face that he knew only too well. She would look into it as she said, but to push further would be futile - she had heard enough. Reluctantly, he nodded, and turned to leave. Once they left the classroom, and were many paces out of earshot, Harry turned to the others.

"That settles it. Dumbledore is gone, and the rest of the Professors are none the wiser. If Aunt Min doesn't find anything by tonight, then we have to assume tonight is when they're planning to steal the stone."

"But who? " Draco hissed. "We still haven't figured that out."

"Figured out what, might I ask?" Professor Snape came up behind them, quiet as ever and peering down at them with a quizzical look. "Nothing that might get us into trouble, I hope?"

The three of them looked up at him, the shock of his sudden appearance plain on their faces, and perhaps a little fear that he was one of their main suspects for being the stone thief. When he didn't get a response from them, he honed in on Harry. Something Harry desperately wished he wouldn't do.

"Since you're here, I'd like to congratulate you on your win today, Potter. Seems I made a right choice in making you Seeker."

In all honesty, Harry was getting sick of feeling so brave so often recently. He really needed to remind himself every now and then that he wasn't in Gryffindor and he didn't need stupid acts of bravery to determine his worth, especially not to his friends or himself. But this time however was too perfect an opportunity. They needed to know who was trying to steal the stone, and here was one of their main suspects in front of him giving him the perfect opening to cross him off that list, or underline his name in red.

"Well, since you're here," he repeated back to him, "I'd like to thank you for trying to stop the jinx on my broom."

Snape's face went slack for a moment - barely a second but it was long enough for Harry to see the shocked expression Snape tried to hide.

When the Professor spoke again, it was barely a whisper.

"Yes, well don't announce the fact that you were jinxed to the entire school. I didn't put you on the team to have you kill yourself in your first year, and I don't want to cause panic."

"I don't suppose you know who was jinxing it do you?" Harry asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Even worse, Harry thought for a split second Snape might actually tell him. Or that he at least wanted to. But instead the Professor just gave him a flat look, half sneering.

"Stop skulking around like you're up to no good, and go do something productive. Revision, perhaps?"

He then walked away, almost gliding through the corridor, though his footsteps could be heard for a long while after he'd turned a corner.

"That settles that." Draco mumbled, watching after the Professor even as he left their sight.

"I told you it was Quirrell." Pansy said, with what might usually be accompanied with a snigger, but this time was only half-heartedly teasing.

"If he's going down there tonight then we need to be ready tonight if McGonagall doesn't find anything." Draco reasoned. "It's risky but if we assume he'll go after lights out that gives us more time."

"And if he's down there right now?" Harry asked, raising his thumb to his mouth and biting at the skin.

The three of them nervously contemplated that, then more nervous still, made their way towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. As they approached Quirrell's, all three of them found themselves practically sneaking, and upon finding Quirrell in his classroom, they all but bolted. By dinner, Harry's fingers were bleeding, Draco was wringing his hands and Pansy was mothering them to eat to stop anybody from noticing that something was amiss with them. Harry made several attempts to catch McGonagall's eye, but it was well into dessert before she actually looked at him. And with her reassuring smile and shake of her head, Harry felt his stomach drop. He forced a smile back, then turned to the other two, the smile falling as soon as he was faced away.

"She didn't get anything."

"Long night ahead of us then." Pansy stated, pushing two bowls towards the boys. "So eat."

%%%

"Oh Merlin's beard." Draco hissed. "We're too late."

The plan had very cleverly been to avoid going into Fluffy's room at all if they could help it. They were simply going to stand outside it, under the invisibility cloak, and wait for Quirrell to arrive. What they were going to do then was sort of up for debate. Distraction was their preferred method, the boys getting him away from the door while Pansy ran to get McGonagall. Draco had very slyly mentioned that he knew a few good spells to simply paralyse him for a short while until she arrived, but had begrudgingly agreed when Harry suggested they keep that as a last resort. For a plan made by three eleven year olds in less than an hour, Harry thought they had a good chance. None of them, however, had prepared for the eventuality that Quirrell might already have arrived.

There was soft harp music coming from Fluffy's room when they arrived, and it echoed through the corridor hauntingly.

As they approached the door, opening it carefully, Harry turned to the others.

"Stay here, if something goes wrong, go and get McGonagall. Get Snape if you have to, just someone."

"You're so stupid sometimes." Draco scoffed. "The plan's gone to pot; we're not letting you go down there alone."

"But then who will-"

"Draco's right." Pansy pressed. "We don't know what's down there, no more than Fluffy, and at least if there's three of us down there, we'll know exactly what's going on. It's never too late for one of us to come back."

Harry sighed, and regarded them both, with their determined expressions.

"I really do hate it when you're right. At least… I hope you're right."

The three of them struggled for a moment with the trapdoor, which was a lot heavier than it looked. It hit the ground hard on the way down and they all froze when Fluffy stirred, moving her great heads, and stretching out, flexing huge paws.

But the harp continued playing, and the dog continued sleeping.

Harry, Draco and Pansy jumped.

Chapter Text

"I said keep still!"

"It's wrapped around my throat!"

"I can't get to my wand!"

"I can't breathe!"

"Stop moving for God's sake!"

"Harry!"

Harry grunted as he hit the stone ground beneath the entanglement of Devil's Snare, and looking up he could just about see his friends' feet and their very obvious struggle.

"Will you two stop moving?" He called up them, rubbing his arm as he stood. "It's Devil's Snare, the more you struggle the more it'll entangle you."

"Clearly death is inevitable then." Draco grumbled.

No word came from Pansy, but a moment later she fell through the plants and onto the floor with a loud thud.

"Are you alright?"

"Never better." Pansy huffed, standing and brushing herself off. "We'll be here all night with him though. Or at least until he passes out."

"Yes, well." Harry said, pulling out his wand. "I'm afraid we don't have time for that. Petrificus Totalus. "

The spell hit Draco's foot, and suddenly his body stopped moving. Slowly, the Devil's Snare also stopped moving, and slower still, Draco began to fall through.

"Help me break his fall."

Draco's feet still hit the floor as he fell, but Harry and Pansy were able to catch his head, and Harry muttered a counter spell once they'd done so. Draco regained movement in an instant, flailing to stand and regain his balance.

"Was that really necessary?" He huffed, casting Harry a look that was clearly trying to be angry, but just looked embarrassed.

"You weren't listening to me. So yes. You can be angry at me later if you really want, but right now we need to go."

Draco thankfully knew he was right, and nodded once, firmly, and the three continued onwards. There was only one door; one way to go, and through it, a room filled with birds.

No, not birds.

Keys .

It seemed like thousands were up there, buzzing away, idly hovering in large groups throughout the room. And across the room, a large wooden door, seemingly the only way forward, and locked with a heavy padlock. Harry could see from here it was big, silver and clearly not going to be unlocked by any of these tiny little gold keys that fluttered above their heads.

Pansy grabbed at his arm suddenly, and pointed across the room, a little left of the door.

"Broomsticks. Guess it's clear how you're supposed to get the key… whichever one it is."

"Me?"

"You're not our Seeker for nothing." Draco scoffed.

He took a tentative step forward, almost sliding rather than stepping and looking up cautiously as if he expected the keys to dive suddenly if he stepped too far into the room. They didn't, and when Draco got to the brooms, he grabbed two and all but darted back to Harry and Pansy, holding one out to Harry.

"She wouldn't mount a broom if her life depended on it, but I've not been flying since childhood to let you take all the glory here."

Harry couldn't help the small smile that threatened to split his face as he took the broom.

"Only you could make something like this into a competition." He mounted his broom, kicking off as Draco did. "You're looking for an older key. Maybe slightly bigger."

With that the two of them flew right into the crowds of keys. Some of the keys followed them along, making it harder to see which groups they'd checked and which they hadn't, and other keys flew away from them as they approached. It was a few long and frustrating minutes before Harry spotted it. Bigger and older looking, just like he'd thought, and the feathers of one wing crumpled, like somebody had already come through and grabbed at it. It almost made Harry feel bad as he grabbed it again, feeling it's wings still attempting to beat inside his hand as he waved to Draco and landed next to Pansy by the locked door. Draco landed a moment later, and rolled his eyes.

"Well it was worth a try."

Harry gave a half shrug and small smile, leaning the broom back against the wall as he moved to the large padlock, unlocking it before letting the key go again. It darted away, leaving behind a couple of feathers in his hand as it did so.

"Three down." Pansy told him softly.

He only nodded and they pushed onwards.

Harry all but lost his breath upon seeing the next room. He didn't exactly feel at a loss here, but he'd also only ever beaten Lily at chess twice, Remus only once on a technicality, and he'd never once stood a chance against McGonagall. And wizard's chess, as this surely was, was bad enough on a small board, and now he had to become a piece?

"I don't suppose either of you play chess?"

"Not well." Pansy murmured.

"I find it boring." Draco replied.

"Fine. Then we're going to have to play this carefully. I'd bet anything this is Wizard's chess, and I'd bet even more it was McGonagall who enchanted it. The white's will be ruthless."

As if answering him, the white Queen, with an awful sound of stone on stone, tilted her head, and gave her sword a circular swing by her side. Even for stone it looked sharp as steel and Harry gave Draco and Pansy a look he hoped expressed less fear than he felt. When Pansy gulped and Draco paled he realised he had not been successful.

"Right." Harry wet his lips and pushed his hair back from his face, thinking. "Right."

Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist and tugged gently, compelling Harry to look at him.

"It's okay, we trust you. Whatever you need us to do, just ask. We'll do it."

Pansy nodded, hooking her pinky finger around his index for a brief moment of comfort. Tiny spots of contact that somehow gave him all the courage he needed. He nodded, and looked back to the board, considering his options.

"Okay. Pansy take Queen. You'll be our strongest piece, but you'll also be most wanted. Draco, take the Queen side Knight. I might well be able to keep you out of play then bring you in out of nowhere." He wrung his hands together, letting loose a long breath. "And I'll take King side Bishop."

As Harry finished explaining, the pieces he'd named came to life like the White Queen had done, vacating the board and leaving the squares empty for them. Each took their spot and took a deep breath.

"White plays first."

Stone against stone as the white pawn directly in front of the Queen moved forward two spaces. Harry shuddered - he was right about the ruthlessness of McGonagall's playing. The Whites looked like they might be freeing their Queen immediately. Harry had no interest in freeing Pansy before he had to - he'd come to see it as a bad day when the Queen came into play. Instead, he moved his King side Knight, and with its movement he found himself deep in the mindset he usually found himself in when playing against any of his family.

White pawn, black pawn, white pawn-

"Draco."

"Left or right?"

"Left."

White pawn, black pawn, white knight. Pawn takes pawn. Pawn takes pawn again.

And then Harry moved. One square right diagonal, placing himself directly in front of the King. It also gave him a much better view so when a white pawn took another one of his own, he could see the attack in all its violence, and watched as Draco flinched, standing diagonal to the attack and being unable to move away. The white pawn moved into the space, and it's stony expression cast a wicked grin at Draco. Draco turned to Harry, and he could see the expression of fear on Draco's face. Frowning he muttered to himself, then shook his head.

"We're losing a Knight either way. King side Knight, take him."

Draco flinched again when the other Knight attacked the threatening pawn, and Harry could all but see him shaking when the White Knight then made away with him.

"Draco, are you alright?"

Draco nodded despite his shuddering, and glanced up nervously at the White Knight towering above him. Harry turned to look just behind him, where Pansy stood, stiff as a board but trying to appear unfazed.

"Okay?" He muttered softly, reaching out his hand though neither could reach the other.

She nodded, "I will be when we're off the board."

Harry nodded and turned back to face the game.

"Draco, take the pawn behind that Knight."

Draco said nothing as he followed the order, skirting around the white Knight, staying as far away from it as he could without straying from his path. The pawn must have known Draco couldn't, and wouldn't be so violent as it's fellow chessmen, and simply moved off the board for Draco to take its place. Harry watched then, waiting for the White Knight to move away from it's current position in Pansy's direct line of sight. But it didn't, and instead the King side Bishop moved, stopping right in front of Draco. Harry heard the tut he made from his own square and allowed himself the smallest of chuckles.

"Okay, I'm not risking the clear shot." He turned to Pansy. "Take the Knight."

Usually he avoided moving his own Queen until his opponent had moved theirs, or unless he had no choice. But this was rather an exception.

White moved its Queen side bishop diagonal to Draco, who turned to look at Harry again.

Harry shook his head.

"Are you serious? He'll take me!"

"No I don't think he will."

"He's right there!"

The bishop gave a little two fingered salute in response, and Harry shook his head again.

"Please trust me. He's not going to take you, because they'll need to protect their own Knight."

"How do you know that's what they'll do?"

"Because Aunt Min protects her stronger assets. Pansy take the Pawn on your diagonal left."

"Harry, are you sure?" She was also looking at the bishop towering over Draco.

He paused. What if he was wrong? What if he got Draco hurt, or worse, killed, because he thought he'd figured out McGonagall's play? Who's to say she hadn't been going easy on him all his life, and this board was usually how she played? He brought his thumb up to his mouth, and without Draco next to him to pull it away, it was bleeding a moment later.

"If I'm right, we can get Mate in two."

Draco's shoulders slumped, and he turned away, looking back up at the Bishop. Pansy held Harry's gaze for a few moments longer, then shook her head.

"Gods I hope you know what you're doing."

Then she walked, replacing the pawn that scowled at her before removing itself from the board, and staring up at the other White Knight that clearly was next. And even better there was only one place it could go to avoid capture. It leapt away from Pansy, landing in the square just in front of the King. The Bishop scowled and grumbled at Draco, annoyed it missed it's chance.

Harry could hear Draco's sigh of relief from almost the other side of the board, but Harry felt his heart sink as the fog of uncertainty and focus cleared. He should have prioritised Draco's safety.

"Draco-"

"I got it."

He moved to the square just diagonal to Pansy and everything went silent for a long moment.

"Checkmate." Said Harry, eyes still fixed on Draco.

The White King's sword fell from his grasp, clattering on the floor. He bowed his head to each of them, then all the pieces went still, and the doors ahead swung open.

Harry wasted no time bolting across the board. He reached Draco first and threw his arms around the blonde's shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I should have made you safe."

Draco side eyed him for a moment, trying to seem annoyed, but he lasted only a few moments before a grin split his face.

"It's true I would have been very upset if that had ended in my unwilling sacrifice. But I think that's the most Slytherin you've ever acted."

"What?"

"It's true." Pansy added, joining them, and throwing her arm around them both. "You did what it took to get what you wanted. A victory. We've clearly been a very good influence on you."

Harry couldn't help but grin then. A grin that stayed on his face as they made their way into the next room, arms around each other's waists as they walked. 

A grin that suddenly fell as he stepped into the next room. He dropped his arms, pressing one hand to his forehead with a grimace. He almost let out a bitter laugh that he hadn't noticed the steadily growing headache before now. And now it was a sharp pain emanating from his forehead, and spreading outwards across his face, following the lines of his scar.

"What's wrong?"

"My scar, it- it hurts."

Draco and Pansy looked at each other grimly.

"Do you think it's because of- because of him ?"

"I don't know, it's never hurt like this before. Not while I'm awake." He looked up at them, rubbing gently at the beginnings of the scar. "It makes sense I guess. But how did he get into the school?"

"Quirrell must have let him in…"

They took a further few steps into the room, and all suddenly jumped a foot in the air, wondering how they hadn't seen the troll. Or more concerning, how they didn't smell the thing. It was disgusting, Harry almost retched before managing to cover his nose. On any other occasion he might have considered it lucky that the troll was knocked out cold with a huge lump on its head.

"Well if we weren't certain about it being Quirrell before. Isn't he some troll whisperer?" Draco hissed, as the three of them edged around the troll and through the next door.

Harry's head shot with pain again as they stepped through, but his hiss of pain was masked by the gasps of the other two as the door suddenly burst into bright purple flames, and the door ahead of them became engulfed in black flames

"Well that's just brilliant."

Before them lay the next puzzle, clearly Snape's from the look of it. Seven potions in a line on a table. It didn't look like any of them had been touched.

"The professor's who laid the traps must have their own vials." Harry reasoned.

Pansy made her way over to the table, picking up the piece of parchment that lay there, and grumbled to herself.

"It's a bloody logic puzzle."

Draco rolled his eyes and marched over. "Give it here."

He read over it a couple times, looking over the vials every few moments, then picked one up and tutted, rolling his eyes.

"This is to go forward but there's barely a drop in here. Certainly not enough for the three of us. Or even two." He paused and looked to Hary. "Oh, Merlin."

Harry held his hand out, giving Draco a stern look.

"You know it has to be me."

Draco closed his first around the vial.

"No, actually, I don't. Why? Why does it have to be you?"

"If it's Voldemort-"

Draco scrunched his nose up and held his hand up.

"If it's him he'll try to kill you. Remember what family I'm from?"

"Yes, and think of the horrors your family will go through if he comes back and you've outed your entire family as traitors."

Draco looked a little taken aback by that. As if he hadn't quite considered the fact that Voldemort might try again if or when this attempt failed. His expression twisted, to disgust, anger, terror, and then finally understanding.

"We have to play this smart, Draco. So smart, even if it feels wrong. Even if it's proven wrong and makes us all look like idiots later on. I really hope we look like idiots later on."

Draco sighed, and with a look of such sadness and resignation, he handed the vial over to Harry.

"Do you know which one will take you two back?"

Without looking at Harry, Draco picked up one of the end bottles, and swirled the contents within it.

"You take that. Both of you. Go and get Aunt Min. She'll know what to do. Okay?"

Pansy suddenly launched herself at him, her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She didn't let go for a few long moments, and Harry hugged her back.

"Please be careful Harry. Promise me. No Gryffindor tactics?" She muttered in his ear.

"I promise." He whispered back, giving her one last squeeze before she turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek then pulled away completely.

Draco met his eyes then, eyes flicking to the vial, almost like he was hoping Harry would drop it, or even better decide himself that he didn't need to go through with it. But when Harry showed no signs of doing either of these things, he too gathered Harry into a hug. He didn't say anything, but Harry didn't need him to. He hugged back, tightly. A silent plea. A silent promise. A silent show of affection.

He pulled away, downing half the contents of his vial then passing the rest to Pansy, who followed suit. Harry did the same with his own vial, and took a step towards the black flames, watching as the purple engulfed his friends, allowing them passage to safety while he stepped right towards danger. The flames were not hot as they engulfed him, feeling instead comfortably cool.

He turned to face the room.

Given that Quirrell was the expectation, said professor was not such a shock as it was to see the Mirror of Erised sat right in the centre of the room. The professor was stood in front of it, staring into it and wringing his hands in annoyance. His eyes met Harry's in the reflection suddenly, and Harry's head suddenly felt like it was about to split. He grimaced, but managed to keep his hands by his sides, and stared right back. Quirrell turned to him with a confused expression.

"Potter. You don't look surprised to see me."

"That might be because I'm not." Harry replied, sounding braver than he felt. "I've known it was you for weeks."

Perhaps a little exaggeration on his part, but how was Quirrell to know that? Quirrell hummed, disinterested, and waved his hand dismissively.

"Then quite amiss of you, wasn't it, to come here alone without aid. Though it will make doing away with you easier so I shan't complain. I do need you to stand still and be quiet now though, boy. This mirror holds the stone - I need to figure out how to get it."

"You won't get it." Harry told him, and regretted it almost immediately.

A high pitched voice, almost like a hiss filled the room, echoing off the walls and making the pain in Harry's head worse.

"He knows how." It said. "Use him."

Quirrell turned a wicked gaze back to Harry, and beckoned him closer. Harry tried to resist, in fact given a choice he would have run in the other direction, but his legs were not cooperating. He walked closer, step by step, his eyes watering at the pain that increased with each one. He had half a mind to assume the scar might have split open now, and began to bleed, but Harry wouldn't have been able to feel it if it had.

Quirrell gripped his shoulder with a vice grip once he was close enough and parked him right in front of the mirror.

"Tell me what you see."

"I see my family." Harry lied, though considering it was true the last time he'd been in front of the mirror, it wasn't difficult to express real emotion. "They're all around me, smiling, and supporting me in my Slytherin uniform."

Quirrel grumbled, and pushed Harry away, unknowing of the stone that now weighed heavily in his pocket. But the high pitched voice that had spoken was not as stupid as Quirrell it seemed.

"He's lying. He knows."

"How do I get the stone, boy?" Quirrell roared.

"Allow me." The voice said, and though Quirrell argued, it insisted.

Harry felt a pit in his stomach, and a shiver go through his entire body when Quirrell reached up, with shaking hands, to remove his turban.

It was surreal. Like something out of one of the horror films Sirius used to show him before Lily got wind of it and intervened. Harry had snuck down and watched Remus transform a few times, in feeble attempts to make him feel not so alone, and even that didn't compare to how horrifyingly terrified this ordeal made him feel. Right there, on the back of Quirrell's head, was another face. An almost inhuman face, though human enough, and indeed that was what made it so terrifying. And Harry's insides froze when it spoke.

"Harry Potter…" it's hoarse whisper rang in his ears. "How… wonderful to see you again. As you see I am not quite what I once was, after you and your parents escaped my death sentence. But no matter, no matter. As my devoted servant told you before, you will die tonight. For now, however, why don't you just give me the stone."

"I don't have it." Harry lied, tongue thick and voice quivering.

"Ah, I see." Said Voldemort, sounding more annoyed with each word. "Then what is that? In your pocket ?"

Quirrell lunged at him then, and Harry barely had time to reach his hands up to shield himself, let alone cry out. The cry came instead when Quirrell's hand closed around his wrist, and his head shot through with enough pain to momentarily blind him. But then Quirrell pulled away, crying out too, and Harry blinked away his blurry vision long enough to see Quirrel's blistering hands before Voldemort urged him forward, and Quirrell's hands were around his throat even as he cried. Harry struggled for a long moment to move his arms instead of flailing them, the lack of oxygen making the edges of his mind fuzzy. However, once he managed it, he pressed his hands against Quirrell's face, hard, and kept them there until the pain in his head, and nonsensical voices calling his name threw him into darkness.

Chapter Text

Harry found he had a lot of time to think when he woke up in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had many other patients to tend to, and had also cautioned away anybody who might have visited him for the first few days of consciousness. Usually he might have been quite bored, but with so much to think about, he just found himself suspicious and slightly on the angry side. He was almost disappointed when McGonagall was the first person to visit and not Dumbledore like he'd expected. But all it took was a mental slap to bring him back to his senses and his face split into a huge grin.

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "I swear, he hasn't so much as given a twitch of a smile while he's been here."

Then she bustled off to leave McGonagall to talk to him.

"How are you feeling?

Harry gave her a sly smirk. "Pretty great actually, Aunt Min, considering I finally beat you at chess."

McGonagall raised her eyebrow, shaking her head, though chuckling as she did so.

"So you did. But I meant more to do with the injuries you sustained."

Harry waved a dismissive hand.

"Madam Pomfrey's healed me up no problem. I'm itching to get out of here though. I want to see Draco and Pansy, preferably before the feast."

McGonagall gave him a look that he knew well. It was the look she gave him when she knew there was something he wasn't saying. Something more. Harry sighed.

"And I need to speak to Dumbledore."

" Professor Dumbledore."

It was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow then. He didn't correct himself.

"May I ask why you need to speak to him?"

"Best not. You'd probably try to stop me."

"You really are a cheeky little thing aren't you?"

Harry shrugged. "It's what you love about me. Can you convince Madam Pomfrey to let me go now?"

With an uncharacteristically dramatic tut and rolling of her eyes, McGonagall nodded and left him with a fond smile. Twenty minutes later he was dressed and walking through the corridors with the few sweets he'd pocketed before Pomfrey had waved away the rest back to his dorm, muttering about sugar and how awful it was for your teeth. Harry had laughed as he ducked away, chomping down on a chocolate frog.

He considered trying to find Draco and Pansy first, but decided against it. The conversation he wanted with Dumbledore was best done while the thoughts that led to it were still fresh in his head, along with the anger that had sparked. It took him a while to find the Headmaster's office, having only passed it a couple of times, and paid attention to it fewer times still. And once he did make his way there, he was surprised at how unsurprised he was. The stairway to the office was present. Dumbledore was no doubt expecting him.

He made his way up the stairs.

The door at the top was still shut, but Harry wasted no time in knocking, and when it opened for him, slowly given its sheer size and weight, he stepped inside. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk. Waiting.

"Harry, dear boy. I was just considering coming to see how your recovery fared."

"You knew I was coming."

Dumbledore shrugged, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, as he smiled, "I might have done."

Harry stood for a long moment, saying nothing, glancing around the office. Its walls were adorned with portraits, supposedly of previous headteachers, and every so often a bright scarlet phoenix was letting out a small shrill. Harry tilted his head at it, inquisitively, but then brought his attention back to Dumbledore.

“So, what do I owe this visit?”

“Well I think it’s only fair that you tell me if I passed your test or not.”

This, it seemed, was not the question Dumbledore had expected Harry to ask. Maybe he wanted Harry to ask about the stone. About why Quirrell couldn’t touch him, or how he’d been able to get the stone out of the mirror. But those questions didn’t bother Harry right now, simply because they were the questions Dumbledore wanted to answer. He’d clearly set this all up very well if he was so confident as to plan the questions he’d need to answer too.

“My dear boy, I’m not sure I understand you?”

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “Well, how about I explain my current thought process and you stop me if I’m wrong, Professor?”

Dumbldore was still sitting rather frigid in his chair, looking uncomfortable at this new situation he’d been put into, and by an eleven year old no less. But, Harry had to give credit where it was due, Dumbledore just nodded for him to continue.

“You put the Philosopher’s Stone - the most readily available source of immortality, and a body in regards to Voldemort, and you put it in a school. With kids. And you decided, a great big three-headed dog was also a safe bet to put in a school. With kids. And then you put a series of perfectly picked out and placed puzzles to get to the stone. A big dog that can be put to sleep by music. An entanglement of Devil’s Snare that only needs stillness or sunlight to stop it. Keys with wings, that can be caught if you’re any good with the brooms so helpfully placed in the room. A giant chess board that can be beaten if you know how to play. A perfectly beatable troll, if you have the skills. And a logic puzzle? Merlin’s beard, three elven-year olds could beat all that. And we did. ”

“Harry-”

“ I’m not finished. ” Harry all but stamped his foot. “If you really wanted this stone protecting, and not getting into Voldemort’s hands then why put any solutions in there at all? Get rid of the keys, and you have a lock that can’t be opened by magic. Get rid of the instructions to the logic puzzle, and there’s a three out of seven chance they’ll just drink poison and die . But without all that, you couldn’t see where I’m at. How smart, or resourceful, or good-willed. Well? You’ve seen me now. And you dragged my friends into it too. Are we drafted into your war?”

“I would not draft children-”

“It happened last time, and if you seriously think Voldemort will try and come back again after this, then it means another war, and it means more devastation in its wake. I did your stupid test. I walked right into it, I see that now. I won’t be puppeteered by you Professor.”

He stopped then, and he waited. He almost dared the Headmaster to say something. Anything. Argue, admit to it, change the subject completely. But Dumbledore simply folded his hands atop the desk, and stared back at him. So Harry shrugged, shaking his head as he turned to leave.

“Thanks, at least, for not letting me die. Fat lot of use I’d be to you dead, I suppose.”

%%%

“Harry!” Pansy threw her arms around Harry before he’d even had a chance to sit down, but it felt so nice to be back in their company that he just hugged her back until she pulled away to let him sit.

“You scared us.” Draco told him, the look of worry still etched on his face. “When Dumbledore brought you out, we-”

“Yes, well, it’s not in his best interests to let me die. I’m okay, Draco, promise. Glad to know you care though.” Harry raised an eyebrow and the blonde sent a slap his way. “How about you two?”

“We were okay. Got back to the key room when Dumbledore came bursting through.” Pansy explained, then frowned. “That’s both times you’ve rolled your eyes at the mention of our dear old Headmaster. Usually you’re more willing to give him a pass, what happened?”

Harry sighed, but in truth this conversation was going to happen before they all left anyway. He’d just planned for it to be on the train so privacy was a little more guaranteed. He shook his head and told them everything. By the end of it, both were fuming.

“He played us?” Pansy sneered.

“I would have referred to it as manipulation myself.” Draco hissed. “What does he think he’s playing at, though. An ex-death eater’s son, is he really that stupid?”

“I thought about that actually.” Harry said, glancing across the Great Hall. “He was expecting me to be in Gryffindor. I wasn’t and now he has to work with what he’s got.”

“He’s got nothing .” Pansy almost screeched, managing to bring her voice down at the last moment, so it sounded more like a dying cat than anything else.

“Oh don’t worry, Pans, I told him I wouldn’t be puppeteered. And neither will you. There can’t be another war if Vol- er, You-Know-Who isn’t back, and it’s not like there’s a form of immortality lying about in any old person’s home. There’s nothing to say he’ll even find a way at all, and if there’s no war, there’s no need for him to try and use us anyway.”

“We still need to be ready. Just in case.” Draco ventured.

“Just in case.” Pansy nodded.

“Just in case.” Harry agreed.

%%%

With the heavy conversation over for the time being, final goodbyes before boarding the train were much more pleasant. He hugged McGonagall tightly, even as she laughed and reminded him that he'd likely be seeing her over the holidays anyway. He pulled away with a grin, and shrugged. He'd still wanted to say goodbye properly. He gave a massive wave to Hagrid, trying to show him again that there were no hard feelings. The man had approached him after the feast with teary eyes, fidgeting with a huge handkerchief, apologising again and again for the role he played in allowing Voldemort to get past Fluffy. Harry hadn't really thought about it, and assured him that he knew it hadn't been intentional.

Hagrid waved back at him, but even from a distance, Harry could see his eyes welling up again, so he politely ignored it, and turned back towards the train.

He, Draco and Pansy managed to find a compartment fairly easily and settled in quickly, Harry stretching out on the seat. It was a fair journey back to London, but they quite easily passed the time with conversation, jokes, games of exploding snap and comfortable silence. The atmosphere stayed comfortable the entire journey and even when the train came to a stop in King's Cross station, and Harry faltered at the compartment door, Draco and Pansy still brought a smile to his face when they gave him theirs. They didn't need to say anything, and neither did he, and together the three of them exited the train and stepped out onto the platform. They clustered together after they gathered their trunks, and one by one spotted their parents.

Pansy gave a little hop, then turned first to Draco, pressing a kiss to his cheek despite the blonde's very obvious protests, and hugging him tightly. Harry thought he heard her mutter something to him, and looked away, pretending not to hear anything at all, until she then turned to him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek too, then hugged him tightly enough that he wondered if she was going to crack his ribs.

"You'll be okay, Harry. Remember to write, and we'll be here next year." She paused. "You do know that, don't you?"

Harry tightened his own hug.

"Can't imagine how I'd ever forget. Thank you, Pans."

She pulled away and with a last grin to them both, and a dramatic, 'until we meet again, oh friends of mine', she hurried off to meet up with what could only be her parents. And then Draco turned to him.

"Keep in touch." He nodded firmly.

Harry nodded too, though less deliberate. "You too."

"You foiled You-Know-Who again Harry. If he's still being… y'know, then just send an owl. You can stay over at mine. Or I'll come to you."

Harry nodded again. "I'll be okay Draco. Really. It's six weeks. Besides, I have a lot of work ahead of me trying to get my mum to talk to me about… y'know, him . And worst case, I have Pads and Moony."

The look Draco gave him reminded him that he'd barely explained who Pads and Moony actually were. He knew they were family, but every time it had come up, something else had been more pressing.

"You'll meet them." Harry decided. "At some point. You'll know Pads."

Draco rolled his eyes, but nodded. Then upon seeing his mother standing a small distance away, waiting patiently, he captured Harry in a brief, but tight hug, muttering goodbyes in his ear. He the gathered his things, and hurried off with one last grin in Harry's direction.

Then, he gathered his own things, and made his way to Lily, who had been waiting for him for a short while now. But she only smiled when he approached.

"I just didn't want them waiting alone."

Lily stepped forward to hug him, brushing his fringe away from his face, before grabbing onto the handle of his trunk.

"Home time?" She asked.

He knew from her voice that she was holding back. Not saying something. And he had a pretty good guess as to what that something might be. Somewhere in the realm of Lord Voldemort and his attempted return. But she was holding off. At least for now, and Harry appreciated that. A few more moments being an innocent eleven year old boy coming home after school.

Harry smiled. "Home time."