Chapter Text
Harry rose from where he’d been kneeling, weeding his Aunt’s summer blooms, and strode over to the garden shed. He was done with chores for the day, aside from making dinner for his relatives, and had to clean off before going inside.
The flowers were extremely important to Petunia, as they were her award-winning summer blooms, and Harry was very careful in tending to them. Behind the garden shed, he unhooked the hose from where it rested against the wall and turned it on.
As he gently rinsed off the plant matter, soil, weeds and sweat, suddenly the world tilted and he was standing in a dimly lit parlour.
The parlour’s walls were covered in books and there was a fireplace at one end. As Harry looked around, the parlour door opened to admit Professor Snape, Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.
Harry gripped the hose tighter and fought to control his cry of alarm. What was he doing here? How’d he get here? What was going on?
Professor Snape turned his head slightly and his eyes captured Harry’s. Although the Professor showed no outward signs that he’d seen or heard Harry, Harry knew, in that instant, that not only could Professor Snape see and hear him, but that he was safe here. He was safe with Professor Snape, no matter what this looked like or was.
“Narcissa, Bellatrix, please have a seat,” Professor Snape said quietly as he gestured to the only two seating positions in the room.
Narcissa sat, but Bellatrix continued to wander the room. As she started touching things, Professor Snape stepped forward and grabbed her arms.
“One mustn’t touch what isn’t ours, Bellatrix,” Professor Snape said in a dangerous tone.
Bellatrix inclined her head and then pulled herself from the Professor’s grip and stood behind her sister.
“Get on with it, Cissy,” Bellatrix said unkindly.
Harry looked on, wordless and scared. It appeared as though the sisters couldn’t see or hear him, but what would happen if they could?
Professor Snape spared him another glance and, immediately, Harry felt a kind of calm come over him. He relaxed a little, against the bookcase behind him.
“Severus, Severus...I’ve come for your help. Or rather, for you to help...to help Draco.”
Narcissa’s voice pulled Harry from his thoughts and fears as he focused on what was happening in front of him.
Professor Snape made no comment, nor any movement. He didn’t indicate that he’d even heard her.
“The Dark Lord has forbade me to speak of it,” Narcissa continued.
Professor Snape held up a hand. “If the Dark Lord wishes you not to speak of it, perhaps you shouldn’t speak of it, Narcissa.”
“Severus...he’s….he’ll need help. He’ll need help, Severus,” Narcissa said.
“As it happens,” Professor Snape replied, “I do know about your...situation. I know what the Dark Lord has tasked your son with.”
“The Dark Lord told you!?” Bellatrix exclaimed.
Professor Snape gave a dry, humourless laugh. “Your sister doubts me,” he directed his comment to Narcissa.
“I don’t doubt you, Severus. Please,” Narcissa responded.
“You should be honoured, Cissy. Draco should be honoured,” Bellatrix argued as she began, again, to walk around the room.
“He’s just a boy,” came Narcissa’s quiet, pleading voice.
“I cannot change the Dark Lord’s mind, Narcissa. But, I am very aware of what he has tasked Draco with. As such, I can...if Draco were to let me...I can help him,” Professor Snape said and then he kneeled in front of Narcissa and gripped her hands.
“I can help him, Narcissa. With this task, and with his choice.”
“It’s just words,” Bellatrix spat. She looked down at her sister. “He’ll give it his best efforts, but when it matters most...he’ll just slither back into his hole. It’s just words, now.”
Narcissa looked down at their clasped hands.
“Upon my magick, I will help him, Cissa,” Professor Snape said softly -- almost too quietly for Harry to hear.
Narcissa’s eyes filled and, as Professor Snape stepped back, a pink, misty light evaporated into the air where their hands had been.
“It isn’t just words, Bella,” Narcissa said and then she stood. “It is far more than just words.”
Bellatrix’s lips peeled back into an ugly smile. “Make the Unbreakable Vow,” she demanded.
Narcissa shook her head and grabbed Bellatrix’s wrist. As she practically dragged her sister to the parlour door, she said, “That isn’t necessary. He’ll help Draco, Bella. He’ll help or lose his magick.”
She looked back at Professor Snape for a moment before she pushed her sister out the door and into the hall. “Thank you. I won’t forget it.”
The Professor waited until the door closed before he brandished his wand and performed a few silent spells and then he turned to face Harry.
Just above a whisper he said, “Mr. Potter. What are you doing here and how did you get here?”
Harry relaxed his grip on the hose a little and then shook his head. “Honestly, Professor, I have no idea what I’m doing here or how I got here. I was just taking care of my Aunt’s plants and then...suddenly, I was here.”
“Whatever you heard, here, it is not always what it seems. Do you understand?” Professor Snape asked.
Harry nodded, but inside he was screaming -- he was absolutely terrified that he was about to be handed over to Lord Voldemort, regardless of the sense of safety he kept feeling from Professor Snape.
“You are not to repeat a single thing you heard tonight to anyone. Do I make myself clear?” Professor Snape asked.
“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, but he had every intention of telling Ron and Hermione the moment he saw them.
“As to how you came to be here...let us figure it out when we are both back at Hogwarts,” Professor Snape said.
Before Harry could reply, he felt a sort of tugging sensation in his head and then he was back in his Aunt’s garden, water from the hose pooling at his feet. He rushed to turn the hose off and then headed to the kitchen door.
He left his shoes outside and went upstairs to shower and change. Ever since fifth year, he’d finally had the resources and the care of his god-parent, to get a new wardrobe that fit. Since then, he’d made sure to keep two sets of clothes - one regular and one for chores and gardening.
Once he was showered and changed, he went back down to the kitchen. He had dinner to prepare and however odd the afternoon had been, and whatever he’d learned, he couldn’t afford to get sidetracked from his usual chores, meal-prep and anything else that was on Petunia’s many lists. The punishment for forgetting was bad, and Harry had no desire to go hungry tonight.
**
The next night, Harry let Hedwig out to fly free -- safely to the Castle, as per Dumbledore’s previous instructions. Then, he packed up everything he’d need to leave for the rest of the summer and went to bed.
He slept poorly, much too anxious to actually sleep. When he woke, he made breakfast for the Dursleys and then gathered his things. He’d had strict instructions from the Headmaster on where to go and how they were to meet.
Harry joined Mrs. Figg and her cats upon her living room sofa. She served him a cup of tea and some nice scones while he waited.
The Headmaster arrived through the Floo and immediately, they Apparated away, to an undisclosed location.
“Harry, you might be wondering why I’ve brought you along to this little village, almost in the middle of nowhere,” the Headmaster said gently.
Harry nodded. “Of course sir, but I had hoped you might tell me, given time.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I am in need of a particular professor, and I have it on good authority that he’s staying here. I hoped that I might convince him to join us for the school year, and I suspect it might go over better with you to accompany me and to help convince him.”
Harry nodded again, and didn’t voice his confusion. How on Merlin’s earth could he help Dumbledore convince someone to come teach?
“You see, Professor Slughorn likes to be near and dear to famous people or to people he finds useful, or rich, or that might influence others. It’s not an uncommon personality quirk, mind you, and….as it stands, I do happen to know one quite famous young man that Horace will want, very much, to get to know,” came the unasked for explanation.
“I see, sir. He’ll want to get to know the Boy Who Lived,” said Harry.
“Quite right. I need him to teach this year, Harry. It’s very important. So, if you would be so kind as to help me to convince him?” Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded and then shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll try, sir.”
“Good, good. Now, let us go in. Keep behind me, until I say it’s safe, would you?” And then Dumbledore opened the door of the large, rather refined-looking home and they entered.
***
Later that evening, Dumbledore dropped Harry off at the Weasleys’ -- much to his surprise, considering he’d thought they’d be going to the new Order Headquarters.
The Burrow wasn’t the same as it had been in years before. It no longer looked as though extra rooms had been added to the top and sides; instead it looked like a fairly normal, five-story, house. Although the changes startled Harry, he was comforted by the ramshackle shed, the chicken coop, the haphazard fencing surrounding the rambling back garden, and the well-tended front garden with its beds of flowers. There was even a goat, chewing happily on the grass out front.
“Dumbledore came by at the beginning of the summer,” Ron explained. “The magick involved was unreal. Changed it all around, and bam! New house, regular-looking house.”
Harry nodded. “It looks great. I liked it the other way, though.”
Ron smiled. “C’mon, I’ll take you to your room. Hermione’ll be here tomorrow.”
“My room?” Harry squeaked.
Ron grinned at him and cuffed him lightly on the arm. “Mum wanted you to have your own, for when you’re allowed to stay….but also, I guess for when we graduate. She wanted you to have somewhere to go.”
Ron led Harry into the house, through the ground-floor (kitchen, living room, dining room, powder room) and up the stairs to the third floor.
“Here’s you. ‘Mione’ll be down the hall, and when Charlie comes to stay sometimes he’ll be across from you. You and he will share the hall bath, ‘Mione’ll have her own.” He pushed the door open. “Percy and Bill are above you, when they’re home, along with the attic space, though the Ghoul is gone. Ginny, Fred, George and me are on the floor below you. Mum and Dad are on the first-floor with a couple of other rooms.”
Harry walked into the room and smiled. It was a small room, but bigger than he had at his relatives.’ The walls were painted a very soft gold, the furniture was a rich brown, and the bed duvet was scarlet red, exactly like the Gryffindor colour.
He set down his knapsack; his trunk was already at the foot of the bed and back to its normal size. Ron set Hedwig’s cage on one corner of the desk.
“Come down, when you’re ready. Fred and George want to get everyone together for a Quidditch match for tomorrow,” Ron said before he left the room.
Harry laid down on top of the bed and, for a moment, dreamed of what it might be like to have this room and this family -- to not have to return to the Dursleys.
****
TBC