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Chapter Text

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

Harry had spent the previous days at Twelve Square Grimmauld. He would have been delighted to be there if he were not going through the most depressive days of his life.

The Order brought him here after the Ministry decided to expel him from Hogwarts over the stupidest law Harry had ever heard of. Sometimes, he wished he had left Dudley alone in that alley instead of saving that imbecile at the cost of his education.

Unlike Cedric.

Not wanting to join the others downstairs, he therefore opted to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Or Summer—who knew what would happen if he dared show himself outside? How relieved he was that Rita Skeeter was nowhere to be seen.

When he entered a room, they would stop talking and stare at him with pity, which annoyed Harry. He had been pitied his entire life and did not need his friends to start behaving the same way that strangers would. Although Ron and Hermione were great, he loved them from the bottom of his heart, but he could not stand anyone now. Nobody could ever imagine what he witnessed, and maybe that was his fault for not wanting to talk about it.

A knock disrupted his lost thoughts. “What?” he groaned, looking toward the door, hoping it was not Ron or Hermione.

“Hello there.” It was Sirius to Harry's relief. He looked at Harry with a smile on his face. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Harry remained silent.

"Oh, please, just get off this nasty bed," Sirius said, grimacing. "I hate seeing you like this."

“I'm not hungry,” Harry sighed. He was feeling quite nauseous. At that point, the grief might have eaten half of his insides.

Sirius walked over to the side of the bed and bent forward, offering him his hand. "If you don't come down, Molly will come up and make you eat."

Harry sat up and looked up at Sirius. "Is that a threat?"

Sirius raised one of his eyebrows. "No, unless you want to."

"I'm happy to see you," he said sincerely. He was aware of his miserable appearance, yet he still attempted to flatten his hair. "Really," he added when Sirius waved his hand to shut him off.

“It's alright, I'm not blaming you," Sirius answered, then paused, catching Harry's curious gaze. "After dinner, I'd like to show you something.”

Harry climbed down the stairs along with Sirius and entered the dining room. The scent was similar to the last time Harry had eaten at the Burrow. The smell of Molly's exquisite onion soup invaded his nostrils as a growl escaped from his stomach.

He did not get a chance to eat anything until now because he had spent the entire day sharing a bed with boredom.

All eyes were drawn to him. Molly was pouring the bowls of soup when she heard Harry.

She glanced up, beaming as she left her husband to serve the food.

“Harry, my dear!” She wrapped her hands around his red cheeks. “I'm glad you could join us for dinner; feel free to eat as much as you need!

Once she released him, he headed to the massive wooden table. He was about to sit down when startled, he heard a crack and felt hands on his shoulders.

"Good morning," greeted Fred with a wink.

"Did you just get out of bed?" George commented, checking Harry's clothes.

"I forgot," he answered, ashamed, and then took his seat. He was wearing an old pair of Dudley navy blue pyjamas. He still had his cousin's clothes that were twice as big as his normal size, which reminded him he needed to buy new ones.

“Is everything alright?” Sirius asked softly, as he sat next to him, giving him a slice of bread. Harry thanked him, purposefully ignoring his question.

He was positioned across from Hermione and Ron, while Tonks was having fun with Ginny on his left side. 

He could sense their gaze but did not look up; instead, he ate until he was full without saying a word.

After everybody had finished, Harry returned to his room. Ron tried to follow him, but Hermione stopped him.

"He'll talk when he's ready."

Ron waited until Harry was gone before speaking. “He and I share a room, but he hasn't spoken to me since he arrived." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Hermione, I'm worried."

Together, they made their way upstairs to the living room. "I also hear him mumbling in his sleep," he added in a whisper. "Last time he even screamed!" Hermione widened her eyes but did not seem so surprised.

She gave him a look full of guilt. "We made a mistake by listening to Dumbledore." 

Ron slowly nodded. 

"We should have written to him this summer," she hesitated, anxiously biting her lips. "We should have been there for him, especially after what happened."

Ron pressed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to reason with her. "Stop overthinking. We didn't have any choice; it was Dumbledore's decision.”

She let out a sigh as they stepped inside the gloomy room. One of the walls was covered with a tapestry of the Black family tree. The space was poorly lit since the thick curtains completely obscured the windows. The twins were seated on one of the sofas, testing their merchandise in front of the large fireplace. Hermione gave them a wary look.

Ron couldn't concentrate on what they were discussing. He was terribly concerned for his best friend.

Harry was exhausted. But on his way to his bedroom, Sirius held him back.

"Come with me."

Harry frowned in confusion. “Where? I thought we could stay in my room.”

“You'll see.”

Harry did not like that mysterious tone.

They were on a floor Harry had not explored yet. Clearly, someone had not cleaned this area in a while.

They stood in front of a door, next to Sirius' bedroom.

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Harry looked at Sirius, even more confused.

"It used to be my brother's room." He delicately brushed the door with his fingertips. "He left us young."

"Is he dead?" Harry asked bluntly.

“Yes." Sirius grinned as he pushed open the door. "Even if we weren't very close, you sometimes remind me of him."

The entire room was decorated in Slytherin colours, to Harry's disgust. It appeared that the room had been left untouched; there were dried ink drops and parchment on the nightstand as if someone else were still sleeping in there.

The Black family crest was painted above the green and silver bed. 'Toujours pur.'

But his attention was pulled to the opposite side of the room, where a little cabinet stood. There was an unfamiliar magic emitting from it, and Harry was strangely drawn to it.

Sirius was waiting behind the door frame. Perhaps being here was too painful for him.

After receiving Sirius's approval, Harry kneeled and opened the drawers.

Loads of books were stored within the cabinet. They all called to him with the faintest whispers, but only one caught his interest. 

It was made of hefty dark purple leather. Its cover was blank with only the silver-coloured title, 'The Shadows of Necromancy by Alain Dugui.'

Harry looked back to the cabinet and dropped the book as he finally understood. His gaze shifted to his godfather.

“Why did you bring me up here?” he asked with a hint of shock behind his voice.

Sirius was brave enough to step inside, and he picked up the book Harry held. "I thought it would help keep your mind busy as you're always stuck in bed.”

Harry gaped at him. "It's dark magic, Sirius!"

Sirius smiled. "You don't have to read them if you don't want to," he said while flipping the pages of the book. "I never was too fond of necromancy, always scared of one of my ancestors appearing," he added bitterly.

Harry's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Have you ever performed dark spells?!"

Sirius glanced at him in amusement. Harry could not believe it. 

"Sirius," Harry whispered, scanning the hallway in case someone was passing. “It's dark.”

He smirked. "Is that a problem? Harry, the practice of dark art is not what you would imagine. I am aware that the majority of people have prejudices about dark wizards, which is understandable considering what most of them did. But you can use it for good."

"Besides, I didn't encourage you to do anything but to just take a look at these. It would be quite helpful in your situation."

"In my situation?" Harry asked, almost ignoring the real subject of the conversation.

"Think about it."

Sirius was right. It suddenly occurred to him that he could use this against Voldemort. He returned, stronger than before. This time, Harry would not be able to defeat him with a simple disarming spell. "Okay, I'll think about it. But you must keep this between us." Sirius winked, which made Harry snort.

"Is there any information on... defensive spells?”

"I don't remember every book we possess." He narrowed his eyes. "But I believe Regulus has kept the most fascinating ones either here or in the library." Harry had not heard of the Black Library before; it seemed like that house was hiding a lot of things. "You should check it."

“Thank you.” Harry felt excited for the first time in a while and started examining the other drawers. 

There were a lot of books about potions and herbology, and the few shattered vials gave him the hint that Regulus liked potions, unlike Harry. Under Sirius' attentive observation, he kept digging through his brother's belongings.

Until he heard someone calling his name from downstairs.

Harry grimaced. "It's Hermione."

"You can always come back later; they won't disappear. And Merlin, you really need to take a shower."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I'm going to do that. I just don't want to talk to them right now."

"You know, they're worried. We all are.”

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know.”

The hot water running over his skin helped him clear his mind for a few minutes.

Back in his room, where Ron was not yet, he unloaded his trunk and picked up his father's invisibility cloak. He wanted to know more about dark spells without drawing the attention of everyone. He tucked it beneath his pillow for later in the night.

“Harry!” He was startled by a voice from behind him. "What are you doing?"

He looked at Hermione with round eyes. Did she notice the cloak?

"I—er... I just got out of the shower and was preparing to go to sleep," he muttered, uncertain of himself, reaching for the back of his neck. "Did you need anything?"

'No, I just—' She appeared to be as uncomfortable as he was. "We were about to start a card game, Ron, Ginny, and I, and we were hoping you'd like to join us." She was anxiously fidgeting with her shirt, and Harry felt so sorry.

“Thank you for the proposition, but I'll pass.” Disappointment washed over her face, making Harry even more sorry.

“If you change your mind, we'll be in my room," she said. "Good night.” She gave him a soft smile before turning her heels to the door.

He felt awful. When Ron ignored him for months last year, he felt miserable. Like a part of him was missing. He could not do the same and ignore his friends for the remainder of the holidays.

I'm such an idiot.

"No, hold on." She immediately turned around and stared at him hopefully.

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Tomorrow would be nice."

“Really?!" she exclaimed, beaming as if she had been waiting for those words. "That's wonderful! Are you sure?"

“It's been a while since I had fun,” he said, making himself wince. Even without including Voldemort's resurrection and Cedric's death, it was true that last year was a total disaster.

There was an awkward silence.

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask something that would get him upset.

“What is it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I don't want to pressure you or something, but...” she pursed her lips, hesitating. “Have you thought of what you were going to say at the trial?”

Oh.

Harry had completely forgotten about the trial. All the stress was now flowing back through him.

He swallowed. "I'll simply tell them the truth. If they don't accept, well..." He shrugged.

Hermione stared at him with glassy eyes before falling into his arms.

"You did the right thing by defending yourself and your cousin! Nobody can understand what you're going through. But Harry, I'm afraid for you. We are afraid for you."

"Hermione..." He patted her back awkwardly.

"If I have to, I'll curse them and Dumbledore. Your place is with us at Hogwarts!"

He truly loved his friends. Harry let go of her embrace when Ron entered the room.

"Hey, mate," Ron said to him before turning towards Hermione. "Mom said we should go to bed; it's almost midnight."

"Is it already so late?" Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "I didn't even realise we had been playing for that long! I'm looking forward to our game tomorrow, Harry." She gave him a shoulder pat. "Good night, boys."

"Good night, 'Mione," they both replied.

She left, leaving space for another awkward silence.

Ron brushed his finger through the dust on the nightstand and cleared his throat to break the silence.

"It may be spacious, but Merlin, I wouldn't exchange the Gryffindor dormitory for anything. This place is creepy."

Harry smirked. "There were a lot of Slytherins in the Black family, so that makes sense. But I must admit that I'm starting to like it."

Ron froze. "I suppose it has its own charm..."

They both slipped under the sheets.

“Good night, Ron.”

“Do you want me to keep the light on?” his friend asked.

"No, I'm fine. Why? Are you scared that a spider might crawl into your pyjamas during the night?”

“No!” His voice cracked. "I was just asking." He raised his wand, his wrist slightly shaking. "Nox." 

"Good night, Harry . "

And now, Harry had to wait for his friend to fall asleep before sneaking into Regulus' bedroom.

Chapter Text

Harry was observing the canopy, wondering if he was about to commit the worst mistake of his life.

It was unacceptable to practice dark art, especially when so many people looked up to him. But it was not like he would curse anyone; it was for his safety and knowledge. 

Ron fell asleep quickly. Harry grabbed his cloak from under the pillow. 

Ron's snores were so loud that Harry stepped out of the room, not worrying about his discretion. 

But now he had to be more vigilant to get to the fourth floor. Harry started regretting not learning muffliato when he had the occasion. 

Near the drawing room, Harry heard voices. And instead of panicking, he peeked through the door and spotted the adults conversing. 

"Stop treating him like a child, Molly!" Sirius said. Next to him was Remus, who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sirius, relax. I agree, but you can't blame her. He must be protected."

"Oh, so you're on her side! Thank you so much for your support, Remus!"

"I didn't say that!" he replied, outraged. "And there is no side. Don't you also want to keep Harry safe?"

"I do." Remus nodded, but Sirius was not finished yet. "But, for the love of Merlin, let this teen breathe!"

"These two will never grow up." Molly sighed.

When Sirius stormed out of the room, Harry immediately backed up against the wall.

Of course, they were talking about him. But Harry felt glad hearing that Sirius trusted him, not that he ever doubted it.

Harry waited for Remus to leave the room and followed him upstairs to Sirius' room.

Harry thought he got caught when Professor Lupin abruptly stopped in silence. Relief washed over him as he saw him enter Sirius' room. 

Harry then hurried to Regulus' room.

" Lumos," he murmured.

Everything was as it had been before, but somehow, the room seemed even more mysterious in the darkness. Despite its intensity, the magic was comforting. As if it were enveloping Harry in a warm embrace.

He dropped his cloak and started looking through the drawers of the little cabinet. Pushing aside the potion books. After a moment of pure silence, a sudden rattle started. Harry flinched but instinctively drew out his wand.

The nightstand was shaking. Harry approached while clutching his wand. It suddenly ceased. The drawer then swung open, throwing a book at Harry. He winced, trying to suppress any noise from his mouth.

He took the book from the floor and brushed off the dust from the cover. 

The title 'Communicate with the dead step by step' was written on top of a drawn pentacle. There was no author.

Harry wondered whether he should leave or stay. 

Even if it could mean risking his life, he went with the second option.

Between two pages, there was a wooden pearl chain. Someone used a pendulum as a bookmark. Harry had heard about these in muggle horror films, but he had never actually seen one before. He set it down beside him and focused on the book.

'How to Engage the Conversation:

First, you need to greet them with a simple "Hello" and introduce yourself.

Then you can ask yes or no questions, such as "How are you?" "Are you here?"

If you ask with a pendulum, make sure to indicate the directions of the answers.

If the spirit wants to talk with you, you can continue the conversation and maybe start a ritual.

If they do not want to, do not force them; it can be dangerous.'

It explained how to perform different rituals and how to protect yourself from evil spirits. He flipped through more pages and then put the book on the empty bed, saving it for later.

Harry took his time looking through the other books in the cabinet, and he found most of them fascinating. Nobody told him that reading could be enjoyable. 

Well, Hermione certainly did, but it did not matter, though, because what she read was boring.

He placed two more books aside and sat on the bed with his legs crossed.

One of them had a bright red cover with a drawing of a woman pointing her wand at her reflection in the mirror. It was called "The Standard Book of Spells." The other was the one he saw when Sirius brought him into the room. 

The spellbook listed many curses, some of which Harry recognised, but not much about defensive spells. But he still had plenty of time to search for it later in the library.

Harry was confused; it didn't seem as dark as he had expected. He could not believe people were so against it.

He spent hours reading until the door opened, which made Harry flinch. 

"I figured I should come here since you weren't in your room." Sirius raised an eyebrow while glancing at the cloak.

Harry was relieved to see Sirius. "I didn't want to get caught coming here."

"Understandable." He clicked his tongue. "Did you sleep here?"

Harry suddenly realised how much he had read; he nearly finished all three volumes in one night and didn't get any sleep.

"Actually, I didn't sleep,” he trailed off. “And when I sleep, I have these terrible nightmares."

"The flashbacks of the night?" Sirius approached him and sat next to him.

"Yes, but..." Harry paused before confessing what had been weighing him down for days. Sirius waited patiently. 

"It's just..." A tight knot formed in his throat. "I feel like it's all my fault and that..." Not knowing why he suddenly began crying, he lowered his head so Sirius would not notice.

"Harry. I know you're going through a lot lately.” Sirius patted his back. “But keeping your emotions inside is not good. You know you can tell me everything." 

"I know I..." Harry breathed shakily and looked him in the eyes. "It should have been me; it happened because of me. Cedric died because of me."

Sirius took him in his arms, and Harry sobbed against him.

"It's alright, I'm here." Sirius tenderly brushed his hair between his fingers.

"It's all my fault." Harry was clinging to Sirius' shirt while the hot tears were falling like rain.

"You did not kill him; Voldemort did. He took all of our loved ones,” Sirius started. “Don't ever think it's your fault, Harry. Feeling guilty won't bring them back. 

After a silence, he continued. “Remember all the happy memories you have of them. In Azkaban, I felt so useless while mourning the death of your parents. But then I discovered that I had one thing left. Something not everyone has the chance to enjoy. Love."

"Love?" Harry grimaced. 

"Love will always give you the strength to fight, even in the worst moments."

It was love again. The same love that did not stop Cedric from being killed. 

The greatest solution, they said.

But nobody seemed to love him enough to take his foolish title. 

'The Chosen One.'

Harry was not mad at Sirius; he was a bit embarrassing sometimes with his nauseous romantic attitude.

Hermione lifted her head from her book when he entered the living room.

Her smile grew even wider when he sat next to her. "What are you reading?" he asked, his sudden passion for literature taking over him. 

"Oh, I'm just studying herbology." She shut the book before tossing it away and turned to face Harry. "Did you sleep well?"

Now that she was asking, Harry realised he hadn't experienced any nightmares or strange dreams.

"Yes, very well," he replied, returning her smile.

After a short silence, he raised an eyebrow and started smirking. "Are you still up for a card game?"

She leaned across Harry, seizing the deck of cards in front of her. "Don't ask me twice."

"Shouldn't we wait for Ron?" Harry asked when she started shuffling the cards.

"You will beat him anyway." They both chuckled.

Someone behind them cleared their throat.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped while Harry burst into laughter.

Ron walked up to them. "Making fun of me behind my back? Come on, I'll beat both of you!" 

The three of them played and spent the entire day together. Ron did defeat Harry but not Hermione, claiming he did it on purpose because of his sense of chivalry.

On the night of his hearing, Harry could not fall asleep. He was terrified that he would say something that would ruin everything. Even if he mentally prepared for everything he might say, he could not help the anxiety coming back and forth.

So there he was, reading a book about dark defensive spells while perched in one of the Black Library's armchairs. Everything there was ancient, from the books to the family's artefacts; it looked like a museum. 

Harry got intrigued by a spell he had heard before. 

'Protego Ignis.'

'A barrier of heat surrounds the spell's caster. If someone attempts to penetrate the shield, they will start burning—not mortally but painfully.'

That spell sounded very useful.

He was deep into his reading when he was interrupted by a strange noise behind him.

" Pssssss"

He rose to his feet. "Sirius?"

No one was there. 

Was it his imagination? Given how much reading he did this week and how little sleep he got, he was probably too exhausted to think correctly.

" Pssssss"

Definitely not my imagination .

He froze when he felt something brushing his shoulder; it was a simple note.

Harry took it and gave it a closer look. A torn page with some odd words scrawled on it.

He tried to read it quietly: “Spiritus potentium circum me invoco. Facies eorum veniat ad me." Too bad Harry did not speak Latin.

"Can't sleep?" 

Harry flinched once again, but that time, it really was Sirius. 

He quickly tossed the paper into one of his pockets. "No, not really,” he replied. “But I'm starting to get sleepy."

"You can read as much as you want tomorrow when you get back." He kindly pushed Harry outside the room. "Go to sleep."

Harry briefly smiled at him. "Good night then."

"Sleep well, son."

"Bloody ministry! I always despised them." 

Sirius banged his fists against the table.

Everyone in the dining room was upset about Harry's hearing. Especially him, but at least he would go back to Hogwarts.

"Let's calm down, shall we?" Remus motioned with his arm to sit, and they all followed, except Harry and Sirius.

"Harry is not expelled from Hogwarts; that's good news!" Molly said.

Harry had enough of this day. "I'm exhausted." 

Sirius squeezed his shoulder. “We'll take care of that.”

Since Sirius showed him the room, he has been coming here every night. Sirius occasionally came here to help Harry with his research. It would be better to sleep here than in the room he shared with Ron. At least he wouldn't have to hide, but he didn't want to offend his friend, and he appreciated his presence nonetheless.

He stayed alone in there today until dusk when someone yelled his name from the second floor. 

From the stairs, he could see his friends worryingly watching him.

He had a terrible feeling.

"Where were you?" asked Ron. Harry was going to reply, but Hermione jumped at him.

"Professor McGonagall is here!" She grasped his hand and led him to the ground floor.

"What?"

Her hands were clasped as she stood in the hallway wearing a long purple robe.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. I apologise for showing up so unexpectedly,” she said. “It won't be long."

He did not know why she was there, but he knew it could not be good—despite his high respect for her.

Sirius stood next to her. "Did something happen?"

She pursed her lips and took a step towards Harry. "Since you were expelled from Hogwarts, there is a little complication."

They were all attentively listening to her.

What happened that could possibly be worse than everything he had to deal with this year?

"You have to be resorted."

Oh.

I fucked up.

Chapter Text

Harry looked absolutely livid while Hermione wrapped her arm around his shoulder, attempting to reassure him.

"What?” Ron blurted out. “He belongs to Gryffindor! It's crazy!" Hermione nodded.

McGonagall adjusted her glasses. "For obvious reasons, the ceremony will take place in private, in the headmaster's office, and by private, I mean that only Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore, and myself will be present. This will happen after the feast."

Harry shifted awkwardly and kept his gaze fixed on his feet.

“What about his uniform? It's enchanted, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "If he's no longer in a house, his uniform must have changed. People will suspect something when they see him."

McGonagall frowned. "It's true. We had not considered this.”

“I can skip the feast,” Harry finally said. “I could eat somewhere else.”

"No, there's no need for that,” McGonagall interrupted him dryly. “You'll wait in the headmaster's office until the ceremony is over, then go sit and eat with your classmates. Do you have any more questions?"

He shook his head. 

"Fine, I won't keep you much longer. I wish you all pleasant holidays.”

After saying their goodbyes, everyone returned to the dining room, where dinner was already served and waiting for them.

It was already night when they were done eating. Everyone headed to bed right after, except Harry, who went to the fourth floor as usual. 

It was a quiet night; everyone was asleep.

At least, that was what he thought.

"Harry," a voice whispered.

Harry froze. It was the exact same voice that he heard in the library. That time, however, it was coming from within the room.

"Who is it?" He stepped closer to the door.

Only his unsteady respiration could be heard.

He wondered if it was a snake—hoping that it would not try to kill him that time. That would explain why he heard it and not the others. Although he did not ask, he would be aware if they had heard something. 

Harry walked inside. At this very moment, all of his self-control vanished. 

He cast a silence spell, which he learnt from Sirius two days ago, and sat on the floor against the bed. He was boiling up.

No one's life was perfect. Harry was aware of it. 

But he did not choose to be a 'hero' and save the world from an evil wizard. Many were counting on him because he was the one and only who defeated Voldemort. Harry did not even remember that; why would he? He was just a baby! 

Not even returning to Hogwarts would make him feel better.

“ Not Slytherin? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It's all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness; there is no doubt about that. No?”

He remembered that moment like it had happened yesterday.

Eleven-year-old Harry refused to be sorted into Slytherin, but he was not sure whether he could get away with it once again.

Harry had developed an interest in the dark arts, only out of curiosity with no desire to become a dark wizard. But will the sorting hat make a difference?

As if it could get any better, Harry was a parseltongue like Voldemort and Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the house .

They were two of the darkest wizards of all time.

Harry initially refused to be sent to Slytherin because of a git named Draco Malfoy. When he first encountered him at Madam Malkin's shop, he knew he had to avoid the boy as much as possible. And he was right.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had shaken his hand on the train.

He would probably be dead by now.

Harry could not stop overthinking and wondering how his friends would react. Feeling no need to talk about it, he never told them about his sorting. The regret, anger, and guilt slowly started to bite his insides.

He picked a book off the floor and slammed it in rage against the wall.

“I'm hopeless,” he said to himself, letting out a deep sigh before burying his head in his palms.

“ Of course you are.”

Harry shivered as he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck.

He immediately reached for his wand as he saw him.

A young, skinny teenager was lying on the bed, facing Harry. His dark hair was falling over his face, and he was dressed in a very sophisticated black suit, which made him appear paler than a ghost.

“How did you enter?” Harry asked, pointing his wand in his direction. “Who are you?”

“Hello Potter, ” the boy replied with an annoying smirk on the corners of his lips. He could not place it, but something about his face felt familiar. 

Shock washed over Harry as the stranger called him by his last name. 

“Answer my questions if you don't want to regret it,” Harry said, trying to sound threatening. “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

The boy tilted his head as if Harry were asking him the stupidest question. “Mh...” After a moment, he snorted. 

“Well, it's my room. I sort of live here.”

“Your room? No, it's—what?” The boy started to get on his nerves.

He rolled his eyes. “My name is Regulus. Regulus Black.”

Harry's eyes widened in bewilderment. “Sirius' brother!” he blurted. “But aren't you supposed to be...”

“Dead?” Harry nodded. “I am.” 

Then, the boy reached out to grasp Harry's hand but instead proceeded to penetrate his flesh; Harry flinched at the contact. 

“I've been dead for—what, six years?”

Harry blinked twice, confused. “Were you here before? How could I not see you?”

Regulus floated around him. “I was always here; you just couldn't see me yet.”

“But I heard you earlier,” Harry said. “Why do I see you now?”

“You heard me because you, the great Harry Potter, summoned me,” he said, smirking. 

"I—what? No!" Harry had read a lot about necromancy, finding it truly fascinating, but he would never summon a spirit willingly. Why in Merlin would he?

“As soon as you entered my bedroom, your third eye opened,” Regulus continued. “And I sensed it, your magic.”  

Harry swallowed, not knowing if he should take that as a compliment or not. 

Regulus sat at the edge of his bed and locked his eyes on Harry.

“You awoke me from my interminable sleep.” He sighed when Harry raised one of his eyebrows in confusion.“Last night, in the library.” Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I couldn't believe you were so stupid to do it! It could become dangerous someday. You recited an incantation aloud without even thinking about what it might be! What if I meant to harm you?”

"I'm not stupid! I didn't know what it was.” Harry felt his cheeks burning. “Why would I want to summon a bloody ghost!?”

“You're the same as your father,” Regulus spat.

Father?

Before Harry could comment, Regulus was now facing him while looking around, alarmed. 

Harry was puzzled by his sudden shift of attitude. 

"What?"

"You're making the whole room shake."

Harry looked around; the room was indeed shaking, the pile of books fell from the little cabinet, and the lights were flickering. 

There was a short silence. "Am I doing this?" 

"It's because your magic is too strong when you are angry."

Harry took a deep breath. He somehow managed to calm himself, and the room stopped shaking.

"Good.” Regulus smiled at Harry and sat back on the bed. "You should breathe more often; you are so tense."

Harry hid a snort. "You provoked me." 

After another awkward silence, he hesitantly sat next to Regulus.

"Why were you angry earlier?" Regulus leaned closer to get a better look at his face.

Harry sighed. He should not confess to a ghost; he did not even know if he could trust him. 

But overall, it was just terribly pathetic--

"If I tell you things, you won't repeat them to someone else."

--and Harry Potter was terribly pathetic.

"I have nothing better to do than listen to you.” He ran his pale hand through his black curls. “I would never have done that if I were still alive, so you should take advantage of that." Regulus then gestured for him to talk.

Harry cleared his throat and tried to avoid the gaze of the young man. 

"Professor McGonagall—you know her, right?”

Regulus nodded.

“Well, she came to tell me that I needed to get sorted once again because I got expelled, and everyone is telling me that it's fine and that I will get back to Gryffindor as soon as possible, but they don't understand." Regulus made signs for him to continue. "I was sorted into Gryffindor because I asked to."

"You asked to?” Regulus raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I thought the hat decided only by itself." 

"He wanted to send me to Slytherin." Harry averted his eyes in shame.

"Really!” Regulus exclaimed. “And you refused?" 

Harry was fidgeting with his fingers and nodding while watching the wall.

"What's wrong with being sorted into the best house of Hogwarts?"

Harry returned his gaze with wide eyes, his mouth slightly opened. 

"Best? Are you serious? There are Death Eater kids in this house, and every Slytherin hates me. They would kill me in my sleep if I went there."

"You're not wrong. But I really think you would fit in Slytherin." Harry glared at him. "Don't give me that look! Being in Slytherin could help you realise who you are and what you want."

"I will beg the hat to put me back into Gryffindor. I still have some Gryffindor traits."

"You are right."

"Thank you," Harry said, looking surprised they were finally agreeing on something.

"Being stupid is a Gryffindor trait."

"You—" Harry groaned and threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!”

“Aren't you a bit noisy for a ghost?”

Regulus threw the pillow back in Harry's face. 

He looked a lot like Sirius, but much younger. However, their personalities seemed quite different.

“You said you knew my father,” Harry said out of thin air.

“Did I?” Regulus' tone became drier. Harry hoped he didn't offend him. 

“Did you two not get along?”

“As far as I remember, no.”

“How was...”

"I heard you were a parselmouth.” Regulus cut him off in the middle of his sentence. “Is it true?"

“How do you...”

Regulus glared at him.

“Yes, I am,” Harry blurted out.

"I have something for you.” Regulus flew out of the bed. “Wait here."

He went through the wall and came back a few minutes later by the door. A book was in his hands.

"Here." Regulus handed it to Harry, who positioned it on his legs.

On the cover was a wizard, standing at the edge of a cliff, followed by an army of snakes. "History of Parseltongue." 

He tried to do some research in the school library when everyone claimed Harry was the heir of Slytherin but in vain. The only one he found was the biography of Salazar Slytherin, and there was not much except blood purity. 

Before Harry could read anything, Regulus quickly closed the volume with his long hand.

“Tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

For the first time in a while, Harry was sitting all by himself in the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione had both left him to go to a prefect meeting, and he had no idea when they would return.

Despite being depressed the entire time, he had a truly fascinating summer. He made friends with a ghost, Regulus Black, his godfather's brother. He was rather annoying but was very attentive to what Harry had to say, and he was occasionally funny.

Before his departure to King's Cross, Sirius had taken him aside in the living room to talk with him.

"I'm going to miss you," he declared with a wide grin as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry returned the smile. "Don't worry, I'll write you every week." 

"Thank you," Sirus replied as he shut the door behind him; his smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Do you have anything you want to tell me before you leave?"

Harry thought about his conversation with Regulus. But Sirius was already excessively concerned about him. 

"No," he said, staring at the door, wanting to leave.

Sirius blinked at him, wanting to say more but restraining himself. "Alright, we should go; they're waiting,” he said as he made his way out. “I don't want you to miss your train!" 

Harry was about to follow but was interrupted by a nuisance.

" Liar." 

Harry let out a frustrated sigh. "Mind your own business." 

Regulus was lying on the couch, proudly wearing a machiavellian expression.

"I see..." He snorted. "You are acting like a real evil Slytherin here," he teased him.

Without even bothering to answer, Harry left the room.

---

Lying to Sirius always left him with a sour feeling of guilt.

Harry put his head against the window in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts. Harry wished he could join the birds and fly over rivers along the rhythm of the wind. 

Hedwig's whistles made him sigh. How lucky she was. 

Why could he not just become a bird and avoid human interaction instead of watching the war form?

Harry grabbed the book he had hidden at the bottom of his bag—in case someone tried to dig their nose through his stuff. 

He had learnt a lot of new things about  Parseltongue. It was a very rare gift, and reading that book made him change his thoughts about it. Controlling any kind of snake and making them do things only he could order; people would give their soul to acquire that power.

However, that would be useless against Voldemort.

After reading for an hour, Harry closed his eyes and sank into the seat. 

"Only seven hours left."

"And I'm already bored.”

Harry raised his head. 

"No!" he exclaimed in frustration. "Not you.”

Regulus was sitting in the opposite seat as if everything were normal. 

"Is there something wrong, Potter?" he asked, expressionless. "You look like you have seen a ghost."

Harry gaped at him. How dare he?

Regulus had been following him everywhere since the 'incident.' That was especially annoying when all he did was joke around. 

"What... are... you... doing... here?" he asked, pausing between each word.

Regulus sighed. "The incantation I made you say bound the caster to a spirit, so now I have to follow you everywhere you go.” 

“You're the one who made me do that, so why are you—"

“But I assure you,” Regulus continued, ignoring Harry, “you are the only one who can see and hear me."

An insincere smile appeared on Harry's face. "What a privilege," he replied sarcastically.

Regulus sighed again and lay his legs on the seat beside Harry. "Come on, Potter,” he said as a smirk formed on his lips. “I couldn't miss it!"

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "Miss what?" 

"The ceremony, of course,” Regulus replied. "I want to see the look on your face when you—”

Regulus could—fortunately—not finish his phrase. The door of the compartment opened, and Ginny was standing in front of Harry, holding against her a weird newspaper he did not recognise.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "What were you doing?"

"Er..." Harry looked everywhere but at the ghost. Ginny had been looking for him?

"Nothing; I just finished reading my book."

Ginny gave the book a strange look as she attempted to read the title. "I didn't know you liked reading."

He shrugged. “Probably a side effect from the Dementors.”

Ginny snorted. "You should join us, Neville and I.”

Harry smiled; a warm feeling grew in his chest. “Sure.”

“But I'm warning you,” Ginny added in a whisper. “Luna is also there.”

He had no idea who Luna was, but he was convinced that she would be better company than Regulus. 

On the way to meet new Ginny's friend, Harry bumped into someone.

And as he was about to apologise, he was glad he did not.

"Who is the idiot that—" 

“Malfoy.”

"Look who's here," the blond said as he turned to Goyle and Crabe, who snorted. "I didn't think you would come back.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, glancing at Ginny, who shrugged. 

“I thought you would fancy your new room in Azkaban," Malfoy continued, beside their indifference. "After all, that runs in the family." 

Harry clutched his fists, wanting to respond—not with words. But Ginny put herself between them. "Piss off Malfoy." 

Malfoy narrowed his grey eyes. "I would be careful if I were you, Weasel,” he spat. “You shouldn't talk so vulgarly to a prefect.”

Harry's green eyes widened at the last word. Prefect?

"Come on, Harry," Ginny said as she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. "Let's not waste our time."

Harry then heard Malfoy mumbling something behind them, but he did not catch the words.

“What a prat," Regulus said as they walked.

They stopped in front of the compartment, and Harry turned to Ginny. "Prefect?”

She entered and shrugged. "Let's ask Ron and Hermione later. Come on in.” 

She sat next to a blonde, long-haired girl, most likely Luna. She looked... interesting.

Neville was sitting across from the girls. He awkwardly waved his hand while grinning at him. Harry grinned back and sat down next to him.

Luna had her eyes fixed on him. "Hello, Harry Potter." Her voice surprised him; it sounded very soft and soothing, almost dreamy.

"Harry, this is Luna Lovegood,” Ginny finally said. “She's in fourth year, like me."

He felt that infuriating, too-familiar breeze against his ear. "Lovegood," Regulus said. “I know that name...” 

From the corner of his eyes, Harry briefly glared at him.

"Nice to meet you, Luna,” he added with a smile, which she returned.

Then his eyes landed on the newspaper in Ginny's hands. 

Harry had not followed the news during the holidays because the Order hid the Daily Prophet from him.

"It's the Quibbler," said Luna, who caught his gaze while Ginny handed the magazine to him. 

The first page featured a large image of Cornelius Fudge speaking while being photographed by a crowd of people, with the title, ' Should we trust the Ministry?'

It looked very different from the Prophet—in a good way. 

"It's my dad's," Luna added.

"Really?" He lifted his head from the paper. “It seems like he and I would get along very well...”

"Unlike the Daily Prophet, my dad and I believe you.”

Harry's mouth was open, with no words coming out of it. Oh, he would not like to read what they wrote about him.

"My grandma and I too!" Neville hastily added. "She complained about how bad the ministry was all summer."

Harry grinned at the both of them. “Thank you.”

Harry enjoyed his time spent with Ginny and Neville. And he was happy to have met Luna, who seemed somehow eccentric but very kind. It almost made Harry forget about the ceremony.

“Harry!"

He turned around to see Hermione and Ron running towards him with their prefect badges on.

While Ron looked exhausted, Hermione was beaming.

"We were looking for you," Hermione said cheerfully.

"How was it?" Harry tried to sound interested but could not make his mind follow his words.

Ron rolled his eyes. "It was so long and boring that I almost fell asleep," he replied.

Hermione gently elbowed him, then looked at Harry horrified. "You won't believe who the Slytherin prefects are."

"Malfoy, I know; we saw him." 

Hermione grimaced, and the group started making their way toward the carriages.

"And Parkinson," she sighed, then turned to Harry, who was fumbling with the sleeves of his shirt, ignoring the glares from some of the students. 

"Are you alright?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing." 

Before Hermione could ask more, he abruptly stopped to observe the dark, skeletal horses pulling the carriages. 

"Were they always here?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione looked where he was pointing, confused.

Harry cocked his head slightly and raised his brows. "The creatures pulling the carriage."

She gently said, "Harry, nothing is pulling the carriages."

"I can see them too." Everyone turned to Luna, whose presence was discreet until now.

"What are..." Ron started before Harry interrupted him. 

"I don't want to be late," he said as he sat next to Luna, casting a knowing look at Ron and Hermione, who immediately understood.

When Harry arrived at the castle, he noticed Professor McGonagall standing at the entrance.

"Mr. Potter," she said, her voice firm but not harsh. "Come with me.”

Ginny leaned over to Hermione. "Did he already get himself in trouble?"

After saying goodbye to his friends, Harry followed her. He was twitching his fingers, trying to contain his anxiety. And he was not trying hard enough as his vision became blurry and a cold breeze passed over his shoulder.

"Breathe," Regulus said when they were in the boy's bathroom for Harry to get changed. Harry rolled his eyes while putting his cloak on. He simply wanted to be at the feast with his friends right now. And after, he would be sitting on the couch with them next to the warm fire of the Gryffindor common room.

Another matter made his anxiety worse. 

Dumbledore. 

Even during the trial, he had not spoken to him, as if the man was... ignoring him. Seeing him in this circumstance was going to be embarrassing. Once again, he was overthinking.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, professor," he replied before they both stopped in front of the gargoyle.

"Fizzing Whizbee."

When they reached the top, Harry could not take his gaze away from the ground. If he dared look into the man's eyes, all of his mistakes would be shown on his face. Dumbledore knew everything.

Regulus was still following him. That familiar presence somehow relaxed Harry.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "You can sit down." With a wave of his wand, a chair appeared. 

"It should not be long.” The man also seemed to avoid his gaze. “Do you want to eat something?" 

Harry shook his head and sat down. Hunger was none of his concern at the moment; he was actually quite nauseous.

They waited silently for the first year's ceremony to end. Harry was not feeling particularly talkative, especially with Dumbledore. He spent thirty minutes watching Fumsek sitting on his perch.

The ceremony was shorter than the previous year, which was good because Harry wanted to get over it quickly. Professor Flitwick returned with the hat; he was the one who assured the ceremony instead of McGonagall. He handed the hat to her. 

"How should we proceed?" McGonagall asked, brushing the hat with the tip of her finger.

"Like you always do,” Dumbledore replied. "Stay where you are, Harry."

Regulus was sitting on the side of the desk, watching him closely.

Harry then closed his eyes as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. 

He was welcomed by a cold laugh.

“Harry Potter. It has been a long time since I last saw you. I see you have changed. 

Some qualities of you were not present last time. I rarely have to sort someone twice.”

"Gryffindor, please,” Harry prayed repeatedly in his head.

“Gryffindor?” T he hat snickered. “Why should I listen to you this time?”

“Please,” Harry pleaded. “I belong in Gryffindor. My parents were in Gryffindor. My friends are in Gryffindor!”

“Mmmh, I see you are practicing dark arts—interesting, interesting.” The hat was ignoring him. “Your ambition is taking over your bravery. You would make great friends in Slytherin.”

Harry swallowed. "NO, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, NOT SLYTHERIN.”

“You should not deny these impressive qualities. You have a lot of talent; you should be at your place there.”

Something in his stomach twisted. “No, no, no, no, not Slytherin!” 

“I think we both know that Gryffindor is not good for you anymore.”

“Stop lying!"

“I can see everything in your head, Harry Potter. I see things I could not see years ago. I won't make the same mistake as last time. I know where to place you. I won't be wasting more of your precious time.

"No, don't!" The sudden use of his voice made the professors flinch.

“You won't stop me this time, Harry Potter. I've made my final decision.”

"SLYTHERIN!"

The world froze.

He still had a bit of hope inside him. He thought he could have somehow dissuaded the hat. He had made a big mistake.

Harry had barely had time to think before he pucked on his freshly new cloak. Everything around him became blurry as his ears started ringing.

“No,” he managed to say. “I won't.” He tried to stand up until he got hit by another wave of dizziness.

"Stay put, Mr. Potter." 

He let himself fall into the chair. Professor McGonagall cleaned Harry's cloak with a wave of her wand, then turned to the headmaster. 

"Albus!” she exclaimed with a hint of panic in her voice. “What is the meaning of this?" 

Harry looked up and saw the look on her face; she was horrified. 

"We can't send him to—here, Mr. Potter." She transfigured a paper bag and gave it to him so he could puke again.

"See?" Regulus crossed his legs and sighed. "I told you, you belong in Slytherin. I don't even know how you managed to get away with it the first time." Harry ignored his comments and buried his face in the bag.

Dumbledore remained immobile and calm as if he had anticipated the situation. 

"Minerva, call Severus." She nodded and practically ran away from the office.

"No... no, no.” Harry panted as he looked at his uniform; it was green . The tie, the crest... Maybe he was in a nightmare. 

"Harry, my boy, would you like a glass of water?" Harry shook his head, still feeling dizzy. He felt like if he tried to drink something, he would not be able to swallow it.

After ten minutes, Professor Snape burst into the room, standing beside McGonagall.

"Why did you want to see me, professor?" He glanced disgustedly at Harry, who was holding his puck bag. "I have a feast to attend," he said, slightly annoyed.

Dumbledore walked slowly towards Snape, still looking at Harry. 

"It will wait. There is something more important at the moment." He stopped in front of him. "Severus, the boy got sorted into Slytherin."

Snape turned to Harry with round eyes and his mouth slightly open, no words escaping from it.

Harry's panic attack calmed down, so he tried to stand up, holding the back of the chair to keep himself steady. He took a deep, shaky breath. 

"I won't go."

"I am afraid that is not how it works, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall with a smile attempt. "You are not in Gryffindor anymore; we cannot change the Sorting Hat's decision."

Harry palmed his face with his hand. He was still shaking. "There must be another way."

"There is not," Dumbledore said. "The feast will end very soon. I suggest you go with Professor Snape to your new common room."

Did that man have any sympathy at all? 

"Perhaps Slytherin prefects could take care of him?" Dumbledore asked Snape.

Harry scoffed. Malfoy? Taking care of me?

"I do not think this is a good idea, Headmaster," Snape finally spoke. "The three of them hate each other. I do not want to be the cause of a murder in my own house.”

Harry could have never believed he would once feel relief from Snape's words.

“But I do have somebody in mind who could help him."

Harry froze.

"Perfect!" Dumbledore raised his voice. "If that is alright for Harry, I think we should talk about this tomorrow when everything is all settled," said Dumbledore, who sat behind the desk.

'When everything is all settled.'

Did he even take him seriously? Why did he act like it was nothing? Harry tensed at the thought of it. 

"There is no need for that, professor. I don't need someone to watch me."

Snape glared at him. "Do you really believe they would just ignore you if they saw you wandering around the dungeons?" 

Harry stayed silent. 

"That's what I thought."

Harry did not move from where he was standing. "I won't go anywhere."

“Would you prefer to go by yourself, then?” 

Harry quickly gave up. 

The corridors were empty; the feast must already be over.

"How did you do that?"

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Potter."

"I did nothing!” Harry blurted. 

Snape ignored him until they reached a familiar blank wall of the dungeons. "Don't move.”

Harry began to wonder whether he ought to seize the opportunity to escape.

The stoned snake arched, letting Snape in the common room. 

Harry froze; it was real. 

"Is Mr. Zabini there?"

"I'm here, professor.” Harry heard. “Why do you want to see me?" 

Snape walked back to Harry with a tall boy. Harry recognised him; he sometimes was with Malfoy and his minions. 

He frowned at the sight of Harry in a green uniform.

"What is he doing there?” he trailed off.

"By some miracle, Mr. Potter has joined us.” Snape did not bother to hide his sarcastic tone. “It is obvious that he won't be able to wander alone now. I'm counting on you to keep an eye on him."

Zabini turned to Snape. "He—what?!" 

"Mr. Potter will explain more in detail later. Now it's time to introduce him to the others, shall we?" 

Harry's stomach started to twist again, and a knot in his throat was forming. What situation had he put himself in again?

Snape seemed very annoyed by the presence of Harry, even more than usual. But Harry could almost hear Snape snickering in the back of his mind.

Blaise and Harry stood uncomfortably behind him. 

“What the hell,” muttered Zabini, who looked at him with round eyes.

"Silence!" Snape raised his voice, and everyone stopped what they were doing.

"I suppose you noticed my absence from the feast. I had a last-minute perturbation." He raised his voice. 

"Come here." He turned to Harry's lack of response. "Don't be shy," he spat.

Murmurs started in confusion, and Harry stepped back, but Snape grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him towards the entrance. "You have a new roommate. I'm counting on you to not curse him.”

Snape released his hold on him and went to his upstairs bedroom, leaving him there by himself in open sight of everyone. He looked around, hoping to find Regulus.

He stood at his right. "Don't show that you are scared, or they will use it against you, and trust me, you don't want that."

Harry was not scared of them; he was scared of himself.

"Harry Potter." A small girl, probably a first-year student, walked up to him. She seemed delighted to see him; her eyes were bright. "I didn't know you were in Slytherin."

“Harry Potter!?”

"By Salazar." 

“What is he doing here?”

They were staring at him, all as baffled as Harry.

Like a beast in a circus, they were pushing each other aside to catch a glimpse of him. 

"What the hell?"

That voice came from Pansy Parkinson; Malfoy was just beside her. He was gaping at Harry with his eyes open like he had seen a ghost.

Harry suddenly stopped breathing. That was probably the hardest thing of all of it. Malfoy in the same place as him, sharing the same dorm... 

"That's enough." Zabini was shielding him, trying to split the crowd. "You'll talk to him later."

“Or never,” Harry muttered. 

Harry could breathe better now that the students went back to whatever they were initially doing, even though they were still eyeing him not-so-discreetly. 

All but Malfoy. 

Harry expected that his enemy would at least mock him or make a nasty comment, but no, there he was, keeping his grey eyes on him.

Zabini walked him to a corner where a portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung on the wall. He cast a silence charm before he turned to Harry, eyes wide.

"Now, could you tell me what the bloody hell happened?”

Harry really did not want to talk to anyone right now, especially a Slytherin.

"I'm not..." He sighed. If he could make at least one of them not hate him... "I was expelled, so I had to get sorted again."

Zabini frowned again. "And you got sent here?" 

Harry nodded. 

"I would have said you were more of a Hufflepuff than a Slytherin, but..." He stopped, seeing how Harry was now glaring at him. He cleared his throat. "I knew you got expelled, but I didn't know they would get you sorted again. That's awful."

"I did not want any of this to happen."

"Well,” he paused, eyeing a Malfoy who was now sitting on the couch. “I'm sure you didn't.” 

“I'm cursed.”

Zabini clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder. “Don't worry, I will help you." 

"What?" Harry did not expect the sudden touch.

"Snape told me to keep an eye on you; we both know that you are not safe here. You need to be protected."

"I can protect myself."

He sighed. "Sure you can." 

They started walking toward the dark staircases on the left side of the room. "Would you like to see the dorm?"

"It's not like I have a choice."

Zabini held the door. "Welcome, Potter." 

It was similar to the Gryffindor dorm, but darker and greener. It sort of looked like Grimmauld Place. And on the left side of the entrance, there was a small painting of a snake, which made Harry smile.

"It's... not as bad as I thought it would be," he remarked. "So... where do I sleep?"

Blaise pointed his finger at the right corner of the room. "There."

Harry surprisingly found his trunk at the bottom of the bed. 

"Whose bed is that?" he said, pointing to the bed next to his.

Zabini winced. "Malfoy."

"Oh." 

Harry would definitely put wards on his bed tonight.

Zabini looked hesitant. But Harry broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Can I use the bathroom?" He looked discreetly at Regulus, who nodded.

Zabini shrugged. "Sure.”

Harry entered and cast a silence charm, then let himself fall on the cold green tiles. 

"I'm so stupid.” He buried his head into his palms. “What am I going to do? I'm stuck here with no friends." 

He had Regulus, at least, but he was not going to say that out loud.

"You are not stupid." Regulus sat on the floor next to him. "Not all Slytherins are evil. That boy looks nice."

"I know you don't think that," he said, raising his voice.

"Harry," started Regulus, but Harry didn't let him finish and threw his fist right against the floor, wishing it was Dumbledore's face instead.

“Harry!”

A single tear ran down his cheek when he came to the realisation. He did not belong anywhere. 

“Finete,” he said as he stood up, wand in hand. Sleeping was all he needed at the moment.

"Harry, are you...” Regulus suddenly stopped. “You're bleeding!”

Harry looked at his hand; he swallowed. He did not notice, but he cut his fist as he broke a tile. 

He quickly went to the sink to wash the blood away. "Shit."

Regulus took some toilet paper and gave it to Harry, who tried to stop the haemorrhage. But the blood was dissolving the thin paper.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

When he heard the door creaking, he dropped the paper.

"Are you alright, Po—bloody hell.” Blaise entered, and another boy stood behind him. Harry knew him, Theodore Nott. They were both looking at him startled. What a good impression he made.

Blaise grabbed him by the wrist and pointed his wand at Harry's bloody limb. He flinched. "Don't move, Potter." 

He mumbled something Harry couldn't hear properly, but it made the flesh close up, making it sting a bit.

"Thank you," Harry muttered as he gently brushed his finger over the closed wound.

"Do you often do that?" Blaise winced and passed his own hand under the sink to wash the bit of blood.

"Er..." It was easier to hurt himself than others. Breaking things was a good way for him to stop his anger, but he never reached the point of bleeding. "Not really."

"I could not believe my ears when I heard that Harry Potter got sorted into Slytherin." Nott put his hand on Zabini's shoulder.

Harry looked between Zabini and Nott, searching for a correct answer.

"Not now, Theo." Zabini removed his hand from his shoulder and gave him a piercing glare.

Nott stepped towards Harry, who put his hand on his wand—just in case. "I think the situation is quite funny, the chosen one in the house of his enemies." He let out a laugh. "You made quite an impression!”

"Theo,” Zabini tried again.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Harry Potter," he said before holding out his hand, waiting for Harry to shake it.

Harry stared at him warily but quickly reminded himself that he did not have to make more enemies than he already had. He chose to shake his hand, hoping he would not regret it.

Zabini clapped his hands and cleared his throat, glancing at both of them before turning to Harry. "So, Potter, do you like the dorm?"

"Well," he started as they walked out of the bathroom. Harry looked up at the ceiling. "Green."

Nott snorted, "It's because we have taste."

They continued talking politely until the moment Harry dreaded happened. 

Malfoy entered the room.

His cheeks were red, almost looking like he had been in a fight. He scanned the room before his eyes rested on Harry, a scowl appearing on his face.

"Can someone explain this to me?" Malfoy snapped.

"Say hello to your new roommate, Draco," said Theodore. 

"I'm sure you two will get along." He winked at Malfoy, whose face decomposed while his cheeks reddened.

"You heard Professor Snape; he's in Slytherin now," Nott said while encircling Harry's shoulder with his arm.

"You," Malfoy spat, walking toward Harry. "Why do you always have to ruin everything? Why do you always have to make everything about you?"

"Draco." Zabini blocked Harry from Malfoy's sight. "Let's continue this conversation tomorrow; he already had a tough day."

Malfoy scoffed. "I don't care!"

Zabini narrowed his eyes and waved his wand. "Silencio."

Malfoy opened his mouth, but no words came out of it. He silently yelled at Zabini, who just stared at Malfoy, unfazed by his attempt to intimidate him.

"I'll stop it when you calm down," said Blaise, putting his wand back in his sleeve.

Harry, amused, watched the scene from his bed for another few minutes before closing the curtains. He lay on the unfamiliar bed, looking at the green canopy. 

That night would be long. 

He started thinking about his friends, wondering what Hermione and Ron would say about it. His heart sank when he imagined them waiting for him.

Slytherin. The house of dark wizards and Death Eaters. 

He should have never returned to Hogwarts this year. Harry wanted to go home, but he did not have one.

No choices were left; he had to accept. 

Chapter Text

Captivated by the beauty of the stars brightening the sky, he stood there, staring at them through the long window. A wave of serenity washed over him, almost bringing him back to life. But he quickly came back to his senses, as he was not there to observe the sky.

Coming back there after so many years felt so strange. He brushed the old walls and floor like it was the first time he had seen them. There was something special and familiar about this place, yet everything seemed to have changed since. 

As he continued his path in the castle's dark corridors, he noticed familiar faces fighting.

"I'm telling you, Ron; he's probably already in the dorm! McGonagall said he would attend the feast, and he wasn't there. Even some professors were absent. Also this woman, I don't trust her. I don't know why Dumbledore hired her; she seems incompetent." 

Hermione clutched her fingers together. 

"Perhaps the hat is taking its time, or he went to Hufflepuff, or—" She groaned in frustration and began pulling her hair while walking in circles.

"You don't help Hermione!" Ron was sitting in an alcove, also looking anxious. He sprung to his feet.

"As you said, he might already be there, so let's go. I can't wait any longer here."

Regulus sighed and then followed the two, heading to the Gryffindor tower.

Regulus once visited the Gryffindor common room to visit his brother—and his stupid friends. 

When he arrived at Hogwarts for the first time and saw his brother caring more about some strangers than him, it hurt. But he never got the chance to tell Sirius, and now it was too late. 

As if he would ever admit that he was jealous of James Potter or, worse, Pettigrew.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia,” Hermione said to the portrait of The Fat Lady. 

Regulus smiled; he would remember that one. 

"Harry?" Ron called as they stepped inside. They searched everywhere but couldn't find him. "I'll check inside the dorm."

"Don't bother." 

Regulus turned to see a Gryffindor boy surrounded by a group of boys who looked the same age as Harry.

"Seamus?" Hermione raised one of her eyebrows; she was less anxious than before, but she did not seem reassured either. "Where is Harry?"

"Not here; perhaps the ministry finally put him in his cell." The people behind him sniggered. 

Regulus wanted to say something in Harry's defence, but he would not be heard anyway. Harry told him what happened last year and how people at the ministry would not believe him. 

Regulus knew all of that; he saw it; he heard it. He felt bad that such a young boy had to go through this, and deep down, he wished he could help him.

"Stop it." Ron took a few steps forward, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

"You shouldn't stay friends with him,” Seamus said, looking between Ron and Hermione. "I think it's good he didn't come back; I don't trust him." 

Ron froze; a mix of anger and disappointment fought in the pupils of his eyes. But Hermione whispered something in his ear, and he slowly turned his back to Seamus, who watched Ron walking away with a cautious glint in his eye.

She gave him a soft pat on the shoulder as they sat on the couch by the fire. People were still staring at them, but they did not care. 

"We'll ask him tomorrow," Hermione said. Ron sighed and nodded, the tension slowly seeping away from them.

Regulus wasn't going to stay here any longer; the sight of red was hurting his eyes.

—

"Anything?"

"They're waiting for you."

Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. He knew they would wait for him, and he would have done the same—of course—but somehow, it felt wrong.

Harry could feel the tension in the dorm. Crabbe and Goyle arrived ten minutes ago, and they were not making things better. 

Nott had tried to talk to him, but Zabini stopped him, saying that they should leave him alone for now. 

Which meant he wasn't going to be disturbed by anyone tonight.

A book was resting on his lap; he had to keep himself awake if he did not want to succumb to Malfoy's curse. Paranoia, might it be for others, protection was for Harry.

He was looking at the page about the spell that had caught his attention a few days ago but never had the time to practice it.

"Do you want me to do it for you?" 

Harry turned his head to see Regulus lying to his left. The night made him appear so young, and Harry wondered how old he was, but he thought it may not be polite to ask the age of a ghost.

"You can do magic?" Harry whispered, even though the others could not hear him.

"I told you." Regulus reached for his wand; Harry let him. "I can't interact with humans, only objects." 

Regulus raised Harry's wand and waved it around.

"Protego ignis."

Blows of orange and yellow light erupted from the stick and encircled the bed frame. Harry could feel the heat from the spell; it was like the first time he went to Regulus' room. He remembered the feeling of warmth and safety as he watched the flames dancing around the bed. 

After a moment, he broke the silence. "Why does it feel like this?"

Regulus tilted his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The magic," Harry replied, leaning on his elbow. "I didn't feel it like this before." 

Regulus wore an amused smile, and Harry realised he had asked something he should not have.

"Potter."

"Black."

"Harry Potter, the dark wizard.” Regulus snorted. “It sounds good, don't you think?"

Harry frowned in confusion, unsure how to respond. 

Regulus sighed in despair. "You're a dark wizard, Harry, and I know you know." 

He was right, Harry knew, and he was very mad about it, especially tonight.

After a moment, he broke the silence. "How did Sirius react when you were sent to Slytherin?"

Regulus rolled his eyes; he knew Harry was trying to change the subject, but he did not push further. 

"Everyone in our family is—was a Slytherin, so he didn't really have a reaction.” He pursed his lips. “I think he was a bit disappointed that I didn't end up like him, but he knew I was going to be in Slytherin.” 

 “Why? Are you afraid he might hate you for that?" 

Harry only nodded in response. 

"You are such an anxious person, aren't you?” Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “Don't worry, he won't care; he loves you. You should write to him, he's good at... helping people."

Harry sighed. "I know I've been an idiot, but," he started, carefully choosing his words to try sounding casual, "you have actually been very helpful."

Harry was now avoiding Regulus's gaze, he knew he would mock him, but it had to be said. 

Regulus' eyebrows rose in surprise, he was taken aback by Harry's words. 

He gave him a half smile. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry returned his eyes to him, "Oh, so now it's Harry."

Regulus groaned and shoved a pillow in his face. "Don't make me regret my kindness."

And the sun began to rise as they just stopped talking about Quidditch.

Ron and Hermione went together to the Great Hall, waiting for their best friend at the Gryffindor table. 

Harry did not show up last night, which made Hermione worried, while Ron tried to appear optimistic, but Hermione knew he was as worried as she was. They both knew something was wrong when he did not show up this morning either.

After finishing their breakfast, they headed to the library, much to Ron's dismay. It was Saturday, but it was the year of their OWLs, so Hermione did not want to waste any of their free time. 

"Maybe Harry is at the library, he might have taken an advance on his OWLs; who knows?" 

She knew it was the worst lie she ever came up with, but she tried her best to convince herself.

Ron was going to respond but was interrupted by someone behind them. 

"Granger!"

They turned to see Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott walking towards them. Hermione stepped back as the Slytherin trio approached.

"What do you want?" Ron asked, his tone hardening.

Malfoy was the first to talk. "Are you worrying for your friend? I'm afraid he won't show up," he said mockingly before Nott elbowed him in the stomach.

"What have you done?" Ron accused, ready to jump at him.

Zabini sighed and grabbed Malfoy by the arm to push him aside, then glared at him. 

He then took a step forward, leaned towards the Gryffindors, and lowered his voice carefully. 

"Listen, there was an... incident." 

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked nervously from Zabini to Ron, who looked confused. 

She did not know whether she should trust him, but he sounded quite serious. 

"What kind of incident?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Zabini cleared his throat. "I want you to hear it from me instead of some rumours. He would prefer it too," he continued as he side-glanced at Nott, who gave him a brief nod.

"Just spit it out, Zabini." Ron exclaimed, his fists clenched nervously onto his jumper.

"Potter had been sorted into Slytherin.”

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she struggled to comprehend what he had just said. Ron froze, obviously shaken by the announcement, and became paler than ever.

He waved his hands in an attempt to ease the tension in the corridor and smiled uneasily at Hermione and Ron. 

"I know it's a lot to take, but trust me, he didn't want this. You should talk to him when you see him. He really needs support." 

The trio left before they could ask more questions, but their minds were filled with thoughts.

Harry could not be in Slytherin. It just did not make any sense. After all, Harry had been a wonderful friend, brave and loyal, two qualities that were widely praised in Gryffindor. 

So why would he end up in Slytherin? What did change?

Ron broke the silence first. "Tell me it was one of their Slytherin jokes," his voice cracked, turning to Hermione with a concerned expression on his face.

Hermione shook her head in response.

"I don't think he...” she paused, not believing what she was about to say. “He seemed serious.”

Ron scoffed. "Harry? In Slytherin?" He met Hermione's gaze and shook his head. "Have you gone mad?"

"Ron!" She hit his shoulder with the thickest book she was holding. "If it's true, he's in danger! And as Zabini said, he will need our support."

"Support?” Ron spat. “He would need a miracle."

Chapter Text

Today was the first day of class; it had been two days since he got sorted into Slytherin, and Harry still had not moved from his bed. Except at night, he managed to steal food from the kitchen; it was in those moments that he was thankful for his father's invisibility cloak. Regulus was still at his side, but sometimes he would get bored and wander around the castle for an hour or two, carefully avoiding the castle's ghosts, especially Peeves. 

Harry heard his roommates preparing for potion class with Gryffindor—one more reason to stay in bed. He knew he would have to confront his fear of being seen in a green uniform one day, but that day would not be today. 

"Do you think he's awake?" The curtains of his bed shifted slightly.

"Why do you care, Blaise?" That was Malfoy.

"I care because I don't want to fail the mission that Snape assigned me."

Malfoy groaned before slamming the door.

"Was he always like this?" Nott said.

The curtains shifted again, but they could not be opened; Harry had charmed them. "Potter?" Harry remained silent.

"Harry?" Zabini tried again, "I know it's hard for you, but..."

Harry cut him off, "No, you don't know."

"Yes, sure." Zabini sighed. “You shouldn't lose that chance; the Slytherins will like you, and probably more than Draco.”

Harry swallowed. 

“Wait!”

Harry walked past the whispers behind Zabini, who practically shielded him. He did not catch sight of any Gryffindor until they reached Snape's classroom, which fortunately was not far from the common room.

“I told your friends,” Zabini said. 

Harry's eyes widened. “What?”

And before he could start worrying, Hermione was runing towards him.

“Harry!” 

She jumped in his arms, quickly joined by Ron. 

"I hope you know it doesn't change anything for us," Hermione said, her grip tightening around Harry, who grinned. The joy finally lit up through the fog of his thoughts.

Ron let go first. “You must feel so lonely there.”

Harry winced. “Kind of, but Zabini is nice.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Zabini?”

Harry nodded. “He's better than...” They both turned to Malfoy, who was glaring at Harry.

Hermione turned back to Harry, biting her lips. "Be careful; a lot of people want to hurt you in Slytherin. And now that You-Know-Who is back..."

Harry waved her off. “Don't worry about that.”

He could see the shock in every Gryffindor as he sat on the Slytherin side. They were gaping at him, speechless and looking absolutely livid. 

Harry smiled at Neville, who quickly returned his smile, unlike Seamus, who glared at him.

"Sit down, Draco," Snape told Malfoy, who stood in the middle of the class. With a wave of his wand, Snape pulled the chair next to Harry, who screamed internally. Malfoy obeyed and cautiously made his way towards the chair. 

Snape definitely did that intentionally.

Malfoy looked as pleased as Harry. 

It was a relief for Harry to know that he would not have to deal with Snape next year, as he would never get an 'outstanding' in his OWLs. And even if he did, there was no way he would choose his class.

They were making a draught of peace today. Harry stayed as far as possible from Malfoy while avoiding the gaze of the Gryffindors.

He stirred the potion three times as instructed, but the potion still had its pink colour. Harry wondered why his potion would not turn turquoise. He checked the ingredients to make sure he had put them in correctly, then he heard someone sigh next to him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He looked up to see Malfoy sneering at him.

"You forgot the syrup of hellebore."

"What?" 

Unsure of why Malfoy was helping him, Harry double-checked the board, where all of the instructions were written. He had been so certain that he was following the instructions correctly, but there it was: "Mix two drops of syrup of hellebore." He had completely forgotten this step. He seized the flask and added the drops of syrup, still feeling Malfoy's eyes watching him.

“What?”

"Don't you dare make us lose points," Malfoy said. "Perhaps you're too blind to see the instructions?" he added in a mocking voice.

Harry wanted to snap back at him, but instead he broke the flask of syrup he was holding between his fingers. Sadly for him, Snape was standing in front of him. 

Snape's gaze darkened as he stepped closer, towering over Harry menacingly. "Do you already want a detention?"

Harry cleaned the glass with his wand.

"No, sir."

Snape scowled at Harry before finally turning away. Harry could not wait to join Hermione and Ron.

At the end of the class, Harry quickly packed his things and hurried to meet his friends, who were waiting for him outside the classroom. He wanted to give them a proper explanation of what happened.

Someone suddenly stopped in front of him as he started walking towards his friends. 

Harry was slightly annoyed that Zabina seemed eager to follow him everywhere he went. 

"I just want to see my friends; I'm not in danger." Harry said with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"All right, but don't go off by yourself," Blaise sighed. "I heard some Gryffindors and Slytherins. They might plan something against you."

Harry snorted. “Well, that would strengthen the inter-house relationships, wouldn't it?”

Zabini raised an eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. 

"Honestly, Zabini, after everything that happened, I doubt that they could come up with anything more dangerous than what Voldemort has already done." 

Blaise looked uncomfortable at the mention of Voldemort but nodded. "I suppose you are right." 

Before stepping away, he added, "Please call me Blaise."

Harry nodded, understanding that Blaise was trying to be friendly in his own way. 

Harry then hurried to his friends.

Ron looked nervously around them. "How did you get into Slytherin? I don't get it, you..."

"Come," Harry said, motioning toward an empty classroom. He locked the door and turned to face them, his hands shaking slightly.

"Harry, it's alright,” Hermione said, looking worried at his friend. “You can tell us later."

Harry didn't listen and went on. "I didn't want to tell you this because I thought you would hate me, but I know I'm wrong now." He took a deep breath. "The hat wanted to place me there from the beginning, but I refused because Voldemort went there, and—I know it's stupid—but I didn't want to be like him, so I told the hat to put me in Gryffindor.” 

Hermione gave him a soft smile. “So the day McGonagall came to Grimmauld Place, you knew you were going to be sorted into Slytherin.” 

“I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner."

The bell rang while the three of them stood there awkwardly. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Er... I have defence against the dark arts, so..." Harry turned his heels toward the exit.

"You're not like him, Harry," added Ron.

Harry could not stop grinning thinking about what Ron said as he made his way to DADA class, where he found Blaise leaning against the wall, talking to a blonde girl.

Blaise spotted him and called his name. Everyone turned to look at Harry, who hesitantly joined the line.

"I told you to not walk alone," Blaise said. The girl beside him had her lips slightly parted and her eyes fixed on him.

"..."

"Oh, right." Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly. "This is..."

"I'm Daphne! It's nice to finally meet you." She smiled brightly. "It's a chance to have you in our house. You will surely enjoy it here,” she said as she held out her hand. 

He smiled back, shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Daphne.”

If Harry did not know, he would never have guessed she was a Slytherin.

"We were talking about you. Tell him, Blaise." She elbowed him.

Blaise cleared his throat in embarrassment. 

"Daphne and I were thinking that you should try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Montague would be delighted to have you."

He froze. 

It had been a year since he had played. And even if it did not feel right as he had once been Gryffindor's seeker, he really wanted to play Quidditch again. His former team would not be happy to hear that, but... 

It was a risk worth taking.

Daphne, at the lack of reply, hurried to say, "We want the best for our house. And think about it, it would also help you with your reputation." 

Harry was not so sure that it would help with his reputation. But he started acting selfishly. 

"Alright, I'll do it." 

He heard multiple gasps around him. It seemed like everyone was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"But," Harry said, lowering his voice so only Blaise could hear him. "Isn't Malfoy the seeker?"

"We want to win, Harry." Blaise winked at him as they entered the classroom.

He was curious about the new teacher this year. People say that the job is cursed. But hopefully, that year they hired someone competent and–

"Oh no." 

He looked at her in horror. 

"What?" asked Blaise.

"She was at my hearing," he whispered.

"That means nothing good," said Daphne, who gave them a sceptical look.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

"It means the Ministry is watching Hogwarts." Blaise said darkly. Harry's face fell as he realised the gravity of the situation. The three of them looked at each other in silence and sat down. Harry and Blaise sat together, while Daphne sat at the desk next to theirs, beside Parkinson.

“Hem hem.”

All their attention was turned to her.

"Wands away."

"What?" Harry did not mean to say it out loud.

"You heard me, Mr. Potter,” she said with her high-pitched voice. “Wands away."

The class exchanged confused looks and gradually began to put their wands away. A few students had their hands raised, waiting for Umbridge to answer their questions. But her eyes lingered on Blaise.

"Did you want to ask something, dear?"
"There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells," said Blaise.
There was a short silence.
“Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeated incredulously, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. "I can't imagine any situation that would require you to use a defensive spell. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Nott exclaimed loudly.

Umbridge's smile widened. "You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way."
Harry felt his insides heating up. What he was hearing baffled him.
"And how will that makes us prepared for the real world?" said Harry loudly.

"Don't start!" hissed Blaise, who looked at him with an alarmed expression, but Harry was not going to listen.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly. "Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?"
"I'm quite familiar with Lord Voldemort."

A chill ran down the spines of the students as they heard his name. The classroom fell silent. Everyone was staring at him.

"Harry!" exclaimed Regulus, whom Harry had not even noticed until now.
Umbridge had a coldly satisfied look on her face as she glared at Harry. "Now, let me clarify a few things." She stood up and leaned towards them, "You have been told that a certain dark wizard has returned from the dead. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie!" shouted Harry. "I saw him, I fought him."

"Detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow evening, at five o'clock, in my office."

Chapter Text

The end of the class was terrible. But he could not expect less from someone who was working for the Ministry.

"Don't ever do that again." Blaise said as they were heading to lunch.

Harry was still angry but kept his thoughts to himself. 

"Let her talk; it's the best we can do."

"For now," he grunted.

The Great Hall was crowded with students who whispered as Harry walked past. He could not bear hearing people spread lies about him. But what good would it be to react?

And now that he thought about it, he realised that the Slytherins did not say anything about it yet.

Not knowing why, his acceptance towards Slytherin was better than he expected, as was Slytherin's acceptance towards Harry. Harry chased his thoughts as he sat on the bench beside Blaise, in front of Nott.

"Blaise?"

Blaise raised his head from his plate. "Yes?"

"Why is no one in Slytherin..." Harry hesitated. “I haven't heard any Slytherins talk about the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Do you want us to worship you?” Malfoy spat. Harry had not noticed him before, but he was sitting next to Nott.

Harry glared at him. “I wouldn't play that game if I were you, Malfoy,” he replied, staring right into the silver eyes. “Your father would rather lick the toes of Voldemort than fix your education.”

Everyone around was staring at them in silence.

Malfoy's jaw clenched while his eyes darkened. Instead of biting back, he just stood up. 

Nott looked between Blaise and Harry, who shrugged. He sighed before leaving the table at his turn. 

“Wait!”

Harry did not regret saying that in the slightest.

“So,” Blaise started as if nothing happened. “There is a reason why we're not talking about it.”

Harry knit his brows and took a bite of his food, waiting for him to say more.

"Well, some of their parents were there,” he said, to which Harry nodded in answer. “So, even if they hate you, they know the truth." He suddenly remembered that all of them were currently sitting at the same table as Harry. He could not help but feel a flash of anger.

"That... makes sense," Harry finally said.

"Hi Harry!"

He turned his head and was suddenly dazzled by a bright flash. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision, and saw a young boy holding a camera with a cheerful grin on his face.

"Er... Colin, could you please—" he started, but the boy did not let him have a chance to speak. 

"Harry Potter in Slytherin!” He took another picture. “I must admit that I was surprised when I heard that. You must be the first person in the history of Hogwarts to be placed in two different houses! How do you feel about that? You must be terrified of being so close to dark wizards," he said, glancing around. "But I'm sure you scare them! You defeated their—"

He was interrupted by Blaise, who threw his fist against the table.

"Leave him alone!" Blaise said, his voice deep and menacing. Harry would not like to be threatened by him... "Go away,” he added. “This is the Slytherin table."

The boy nodded, clutching his camera shakily, and quickly made his way back to the Gryffindor table. 

Harry exhaled as the boy backed away , thinking that he kind of deserved it.

Divination was their last class, and after dinner, he directly went upstairs—not feeling welcomed in the common room. Except for Blaise, Daphne, and Nott, he did not know anyone. His own company was the safest and the most familiar. After finishing his homework, Harry realised he missed being able to ask for help from Hermione.

“Regulus,” he whispered while he was alone in the dorm.

The ghost appeared in front of Harry, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. “Potter.” 

"How did you die?”

“...”

After hearing the words coming from his mouth, Harry realised it was quite abrupt.

Regulus' face paled as his eyes widened in shock. 

“That is such an inappropriate question!”

The question had been burning the tip of his tongue every day, but Harry never asked until tonight. Which he regretted as he saw Regulus' face.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I was wondering since you are...”

"I drowned," Regulus said dryly. 

With all the answers possible, Harry would have never thought it would be that one. “Can you remember it?”

Regulus hesitated for a second.

“I remember each part of it,” he replied. “The water filling my lungs, the air slowly slipping away from my body, and, the worst of all, the thoughts of my loved ones.”

Harry pursed his lips. They were so similar, he and Sirius.

“But at least,” Regulus continued. “I'm not having nightmares about it.” He then raised one of his eyebrows in accusation.

Harry froze. 

“How do you know that?”

“I've been watching you for a few days now, you know.”

Could that mean the others could notice it as well? He looked at the bed next to his and sighed. He would definitely know if they heard him.

"It's nothing important," he said, which was the truth. "Every night I dream about Voldemort—and Cedric. But those nightmares never end like they should. Each time I see that green flash, I end up in a long dark corridor with a door waiting for me at the end,” he paused, swallowing. “And when I try to enter, I wake up."

Regulus looked serious. "Tell Dumbledore," he said gravely.

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's why I haven't told Hermione and Ron, or even Sirius. I won't bother him for that.”

Harry shifted his position to grab one of the books hidden behind his pillow. 

"I've been reading that necromancy book of yours, and I found a page mentioning a ritual."
"A ritual?” Regulus' eyes brightened. “Are you saying you want to get more into dark arts?"
"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. "A ritual to open my third eye."
"To open your third eye? You want to see more hidden spirits?” His smile faded. “My presence isn't enough?"
Harry snorted. "Of course you are, but I've read that spirits can help you in a lot of things. It can be very useful to have more of them on my side."

"You already have a slave."
Harry raised his brows and locked his eyes on his friend. "Are you jealous?" Regulus only glared in answer. "Will you help?"
"I would be more than happy to help with your first ritual,” he replied before his annoying smirk drew on his face. “But don't you have a detention with your new lovely professor?”
Harry rolled his eyes. 

The detention with Umbridge went terribly. The fact that he was unable to fight back against Umbridge made him feel frustrated and helpless.
He rubbed the back of his hand, trying to make the pain go away. He walked toward the Slytherin common room until he saw two familiar ginger figures waiting at the entrance of the dungeons.

Oh no.

Fred and George were standing there, looking right at Harry. Except for his friends, he deeply knew that the Gryffindors all hated him, but he had not thought about the rest of the Weasley family. After all they did for him, he could not turn his back on them like that. 

Would he ever be invited to the Burrow again? They could not possibly act like nothing happened . 

"Hello, our little snake," they both greeted in unison.
Harry blinked twice as if he had not heard them.
"We've been waiting for you for two hours,” George started. “Ron told us you got detention from Umbridge.”

“Did the woman keep you for that long?" Fred said. He was holding a bright orange box in his hands.
"Er..." He hid his hand behind his back. "She's really mad."
George put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We have something for you to make you feel better.” He turned to his brother. “Fred."
Fred stepped forward and opened the box he was holding. "These are our new products. Skiving Snackboxes"
Multiple bonbons were in that box. They all looked perfectly normal. But Harry knew it was only their appearance.
"This one is a nosebleed nougat. We haven't found a cure yet, but it works!" George said.
They then explained the use of fainting fancies, fever fudges, and puking pastilles (which was the most convincing one). Harry smiled.

They did not make any differences, except for the fact that they would call him "our little snake" for the rest of his life…
"We've made this box especially for you."

“We couldn't have made it without you.”
Harry would clearly not eat them, but he would think of another way to use them. "Thanks."
"And don't tell Hermione," George leaned over and whispered into his ear, "She will tell Professor McGonagall if she finds out that we gave you one."
Harry snorted, "Of course."

When he entered the common room, he heard someone yelling. 

After a moment, he could make out the voices. 

It was Malfoy, and the ones he was yelling at were Blaise and Nott. 

Harry wondered what they were doing there since it was almost midnight. Crabbe and Goyle must already be in bed; they were no longer seen with Malfoy these days as he usually stayed with Pansy Parkinson.

Malfoy was standing next to the chimney, with the fire gently lighting up some strands of his blond hair while his face was red of rage.

"I thought you were on my side! What the hell is happening to you?" Malfoy yelled at his friends, his voice echoing in the usually silent room.

Harry did not want to meddle and began climbing the stairs to the dormitory, where his bed was waiting for him.

"Potter!" 

A sensation of stinging heat rushed through Harry's legs. 

Malfoy hit him with a stinging spell. 

Harry fell down the stairs, hitting his chin at the last step.

"Draco!" Nott grabbed Malfoy's wrist and tried to take his wand away. 

Blaise went to help Harry get up. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded and thanked him, but Malfoy pulled away from Nott and started walking towards Harry.

He waved a paper under his nose. It was the list for the Quidditch tryouts.

"Do you want to steal my position? It won't happen, Potter," he spat. "I'll tell my father about it! You'll be dead before you even show up."

Harry had so much rage inside him that he could barely contain it. He was shaking with anger, his fists clenched tightly, and he approached defiantly.

"Tell your father?" he scoffed. "What will he do? Tell Voldemort?" Malfoy winced at the name. "Are you afraid to lose Malfoy?” 

“Let's go, Harry.” 

Blaise tried to grab his shoulder, but Harry ignored him. 

“With me as a seeker, Slytherin will  finally  win a match!" Harry was now laughing like a maniac. "Did you think you could ever beat me?"

Malfoy's eyes widened as he was standing a few centimetres from Harry. "Don't laugh at me, Potter," he warned, his voice shaking while his face became redder. "You'll regret this."

Harry had stopped laughing and wore a more serious expression, though still mocking him. 

"Really?" he asked sarcastically, tilting his head.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. 

Suddenly, another spell erupted from his wand and shoved Harry, who luckily quickly regained his balance.

"Draco—" Nott began, but Harry gestured for him to shut up.

Harry breathed heavily and looked at his clenched fists. 

Hurt him, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. He deserved it.

A surge of anger rose through his whole body, and he jumped at the other boy, swinging his fists.

"Harry!"

Harry did not even hear who called him and began to punch the other boy repeatedly in the face. Malfoy tried to defend himself but was stuck on the floor under his enemy's weight. Malfoy successfully punched Harry in the nose, but his strength faltered as Harry jinxed him. 

Multiple footsteps and gasps echoed in his ears, which made him realise. The face under him started turning to a crimson tint. Malfoy struggled to breathe and soon stopped whimpering as he drowned in his pain.

Harry froze. 

What has he done?

A mixture of shock and confusion overwhelmed him. He had lost control of his body.

Harry was then grabbed by the shoulders and pushed against the wall. 

Snape was standing before him, surrounded by a crowd of students who woke up from their sleep to watch the show. His heart was pounding as he glanced at Malfoy's unconscious body on the floor.

"Bring him to Madam Pomfrey," Snape said to Nott and Blaise, then he turned his head back to Harry. "You. In my office."

Chapter Text

Harry's mind was haunted with images of Malfoy covered in blood. The shame and the guilt would never leave his body. 

Snape put the two of them in detention. Harry thought he would be the only one, but he seemed very disappointed in his favourite student. Harry could not feel the slightest joy in that. It was all his fault.

"You did what. "

Harry buried his head in the pillow and sighed. "Shut up..."
"I've done worse in my life, you know."
"Have you ever beaten up someone?" Harry asked, pushing away the pillow.
Regulus hesitated, then frowned. 

"Of course not!"
Harry groaned. 

“I hate my life.”

The information must have gotten to everyone's ears because the attitude of Gryffindors changed. They cheered him as he passed the corridors. 

Neville waved at him when Harry caught his gaze. Ginny was at his side.
"Hi Harry! Have you taken a look at it? I borrowed it from Dean," she said, handing him the Daily Prophet.

'THE BOY WHO LIVED IS NOT WHO WE THOUGHT.'  

'Slytherin after being expelled from Hogwarts. Is Harry Potter rebelling against Dumbledore?'

Neville folded the paper and sighed. 

"You should read the Quibbler; it's so much better than the Daily Prophet!"

Ginny snorted.
"Er..." Harry took a look around to see the crowd dispersing and sighed in relief. "I guess I'll do that."
Harry was about to go, but Neville continued. 

"At first, I was scared when I heard that you were sorted into Slytherin.” He bit his lip anxiously. “Some Gryffindors were mad, and they still are. But standing up against Umbridge, and now what you've done to Malfoy, it's so..." 

“Wicked!” Ginny stepped in front of Neville, her cheeks flushed. "I wish I were there to see that!” 

Neville nodded. 

“It must have been a show,” Ginny continued. “I bet they're so afraid of you now that they will start respecting you." 

That made Harry chuckle.
"I don't think so, but thank you for still being friends with me," he said, beaming at Ginny and Neville.
"Harry!"
That voice did not sound as happy.

“Oh.” Ginny tugged Neville's sleeve. “We should go…”

“Please—” "Oooh, there she is,” Regulus said. “Good luck." He patted Harry's shoulder.
Harry tried his best to make his smile genuine. "Hermione!"
Of course, Ron was beside her. They appeared to be closer since he was sorted into Slytherin. Harry would be lying if he said he was not jealous. 

When Hermione called his name like that, it was never a good sign, and Merlin knew he made mistakes. 

"Can you explain what happened!?" Her voice pierced through his ears. "I want to hear it from  you ."

Ron tried to speak. "Mione let him—"

She exhaled deeply and looked at him questioningly. He knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. 

"Er..." Harry looked at Ron, who gave him an apologetic look. "He started it first." 

Harry glanced at Regulus, who buried his face in the palm of his hand and went in the opposite direction, muttering things to himself.

Hermione's face was red. Ron leaned into his ears. "Well done," he whispered but quickly backed away when he saw Hermione glaring at him.

"Harry," she said sweetly this time, placing her hand on Harry's arm. "You... you are different."

"Different?" He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Hermione let out a sigh and bit her lip. "Did they do something to you? You know they could... I don't know..."

Harry gave her a wide-eyed stare. "You think they control me? The Slytherins?"

"Hermione, we had to talk about something else," Ron whispered to her, but Harry heard him.

"What ‘something else’?" he asked, slightly annoyed. 

"Well..." Ron hesitated and looked at Hermione, who gave him a nod. "While I like what you did to Malfoy. Your temper is a bit... 

“Excessive,” Hermione finished his sentence.

"Excessive?" Harry was astonished by those words.

"No, I..." Hermione lost all the confidence she had a minute ago and started panicking. "We're worried!"

Harry snorted. "You have better things to do than worry about me. I can handle myself." 

"You're our best friend; of course we're concerned," Hermione pleaded.

"I have to go." He started walking towards the Slytherin table, but he turned around. "By the way, I'm going to give a try to the Slytherin Quidditch team,” he added with a wink. Ron's face paled while Hermione's eyes widened.

Regulus chuckled. “That's my Slytherin boy!”

The Slytherins avoided his gaze as he entered the common room. At least they would not try jinxing him like one of them did. 

He had free time this morning, so he decided to catch up on some reading until he heard a familiar scream coming from above. Everyone stopped what they were doing and eyed the dormitory.

Harry looked at Regulus with concern and turned around, cautiously climbing the stairs.

When he opened the door, he surely did not expect to see Draco Malfoy on the floor. Again.

"It's burning!" Malfoy screamed.

He was in front of Harry's bed, next to his trunk, surrounded by all the other boys. He was rolling on himself, clutching his red-tinged hand. That one appeared to be burnt. 

Burnt.

Harry walked over to his bed and stooped to see Malfoy closer, but when the blond saw him, he immediately backed away. "Don't you dare touch me!"

Blaise and Theodore were trying to put Malfoy on his feet while Crabbe, Goyle, and Harry were watching him whine. Malfoy continued to make it clear that he did not want anyone near him, but Blaise and Theodore persisted and brought him to the bathroom to run cold water against his burnt hand.

Harry wished he could grab his invisibility cloak and disappear under it.

"It's going to be alright, Draco," Blaise said gently.

"No,” he moaned. “It hurts!"

Harry took a look in the bathroom mirror and saw that Malfoy's eyes were bright.

Harry did not know the spell would be that efficient. And after what happened, Harry felt really bad seeing Malfoy containing his tears. 

He eyed Regulus, who flew next to him.

" Inrita ignis.  It was in the same book as the incantation."

He had indeed read about it. But Harry did not know if he could do such a thing. He was not the one who cast the protection; it was Regulus. 

“I guess I don't have a choice.”

Goyle frowned. “What?”

"You can do it," Regulus added.

Harry walked into the bathroom and pushed Blaise away to grab Malfoy by the shoulders. The blond was so shocked that he did not have the time to be scared. Harry made him sit on the side of the bathtub under the concerned eyes of his friends.

"What are you doing?" asked Crabbe, who was being held by Theodore. 

“Let Harry do it.” 

His voice sounded like something Harry did not like. Curiosity.

He pulled his wand out. "I won't hurt him,” he clarified. “Last night was a mistake, and I'm not sure if I want to apologise yet, but I didn't mean to do it."

Blaise blinked twice. “Is it—”

"Now," Harry turned to look at Malfoy's sweaty face. "Tell me what you were doing going through my stuff, and I will heal you," Harry said, his voice firm. 

He would heal him nonetheless, but he needed to know first what that git was doing. 

Malfoy, offended, looked at his friends. "You're going to let him do this? I just came back from the infirmary!"

None of them made a noise, so Harry, carefully, pointed his wand at his face. 

“What were you doing?”

"I wanted to see if you were hiding something!" Malfoy admitted. Harry waited for more. 

"I thought maybe—"

"Maybe?" Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

"Maybe I could have found your invisibility cloak!"

Oh. 

Harry assumed he would have forgotten, but Malfoy was apparently still thinking about it.

“That's it?” Harry raised one of his eyebrows.

"Yes,” he hissed. “Now heal whatever you've done to me and get off me!"

Harry lowered his wand and then closed his eyes.

" Inrita ignis."  

Surprisingly, his wand emitted a cold glow and started enveloping Malfoy's hand.

He looked at him, he was not disgusted by the touch of his nemesis’ wand. He was confused. 

Once the incantation finished its work, Malfoy stood up, pushed his roommates, and left the room. 

At least he ended up conscious this time.

Now, he had to deal with something else.

"And you let him do it?” The group froze as Harry approached them. He turned his head towards Blaise. "I thought I could trust you!"

"Harry, please,” Blaise replied. “I told him to stop, but he didn't listen, and…”

"Just go."

Blaise pursed his lips and stared down at the floor as Theodore mouthed, "Sorry."

Once they were all gone, Harry took a deep breath and sat on his bed.

Maybe his friends were right. He had an issue with his emotions. He was on edge for nothing. 

What if he was becoming dangerous? Were all Slytherins destined to become evil?

He was about to go get some air when he heard a hiss close to his ear.

Harry turned around. "Regulus?"

He was not there.

"Come clossser."

"Where?" Harry started to look around, but he could not find the source of the voice.

"Behind you, ssssir."

Harry turned around and saw a painting of a snake next to the door. He never paid much attention to it before. It was not a big snake, but its fangs seemed like they could destroy anyone that crossed their path. And its scales were the same colour as the rest of the room: green. Harry felt a chill run down his spine, but he was also mesmerised by the beauty of the reptile.

"I ssseee a great man of power."

"How did you know I was a parselmouth?"  Harry hissed.

"You remind me of sssomeone who came here a looong time ago. Hisss name wasss Tom Riddle."

Harry hesitated to leave the room and slam the door, but he decided to suppress his rage and stay. 

"I'm hearing you."

"You have something he doesn't; you can talk to the other ssside. I heard you." 

The snake's voice was low and oddly soothing as he continued to speak.   "I'd like to have you as my massster."

Confused, Harry furrowed his brows and tilted his head. 

"What?"

"It would be sssuch an honour."

Such nonsense made Harry realise what time it was, he averted his gaze from the snake and grabbed a book from his bag.  "I have to go study."

"Sssure, sssee you sssoon."

Harry was doing everything but studying. He put the book of potion in his bag and was about to go when his ghost friend appeared.

"Here you are!"

The few people in the library turned their heads towards the source of the sudden voice, and Harry could feel their eyes on him.

He had forgotten about the silencing spell. It must be disconcerting to see someone talking to himself. Especially him. 

Harry quickly looked away from the curious students, embarrassed.

"Muffliato,"  he whispered with his wand under the desk. He put his book back in front of him and pretended to read it. "What were you doing?"

Regulus sat on the edge of the desk. Harry did not dare raise his head to look at him. 

"I was looking for information for your first ritual. I've never done one like this before. But it won't be too complex; it's a beginner's ritual. I can't believe I initiated Harry Potter into dark magic!"

"Technically," he said, flipping a page. "It was Sirius."

"By bringing you to  my  room."

Harry sighed and closed the book. He decided to tell him about the snake.

"You'll soon have a whole colony at your feet."

"I don't want that!" Harry said, outraged.

Regulus smiled, "He can teach you things I can't. Snakes are the best allies for dark wizards." 

Harry winced; he was not used to see himself as a dark wizard. 

"Anyway, I have to go get all the stuff for tonight. Be ready at midnight."

"Are you sure you have everything?"

"For the third time,  yes. "

They were both on Harry's bed, waiting for the others to be completely asleep. Regulus already brought most of the supplies outside. Harry took out a piece of parchment from his pocket and taped his wand onto it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he recited. 

The names of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs appeared on the front. 

"What's that?" Regulus asked, impressed, and leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned, lifting the Marauders' Map so Regulus could see it more clearly.

"This is the Marauders' Map. We can see where everyone is in the castle. It was made by—”

"Sirius and your  father  created that?!" He huffed and then grabbed the map with his pale hands. "That explains sooo much." 

He then dropped the map into Harry's lap and turned his head. "I hate them."

"Did you hate my father that much?" Harry wished he knew what happened between them, but every time he talked about his father, Regulus looked like he was going to die again.

Regulus clenched his jaw and opened the curtains. "Let's just go. Don't forget to take the book with you."

Harry did not insist further and did as he said.

They were outside when Harry removed his cloak. The nights at Hogwarts were always splendid. The stars were countless as the moon reflected on the dark water of the lake. Harry paused, admiring the beauty of his home.

The cold breeze made Harry shiver. He rapidly regretted his choice to wear only a sweater with a shirt underneath.

Regulus led him to a big hollow tree where all the stuff he needed rested inside. There was a black candle and curious rocks. One was yellow and black, and the other was purple. Harry didn't learn much about rocks and crystals, but he knew the purple one was probably an amethyst.

"The candle is here for protection, as well as the tiger's eye. The amethyst is for your third eye. Sit there," he said, pointing to a spot on the grass. He took the stuff out of the hole, put the crystals in Harry's hands, and lit up the candle with his finger. "Focus on the energy and visualise your third eye."

Harry closed his eyes and began feeling the energies of his surroundings. The crystals were cold to the touch, but they emitted a warm energy.

"Repeat after me," Regulus said, his voice so low that it made Harry want to sleep. "Tertium oculum aperio."

"Tertium oculum aperio." Harry repeated the strange words, feeling a tingle run down his spine.

"Aperio me mundo invisibili."

"Aperio me mundo invisibili."

He felt his energy grow stronger. He was surrounded by magic and let it agonise him. He was embraced by feelings of peace and warmth. His body relaxed, and he suddenly felt a sharp sensation in the middle of his forehead, as if he had opened something inside of himself. But it did not hurt; it was almost comforting.

"Open your eyes."

Harry felt as if he had a new pair of eyes. His body felt lighter as if a heavy burden had been lifted, and the surrounding air seemed to be charged with electricity.

"How do you feel?" Regulus kneeled in front of him.

"I feel..." He looked amazed at the stars. "Wow."

"Go back to the castle before someone notices you."

Harry carefully put his hands around Regulus' shoulders to hug him. He wanted to hug him tight, but that wasn't possible. Regulus was taken aback. "What are you—"

"I'm so glad to have you." Regulus' eyes widened in confusion as he heard those words.

Harry put his arms back at his sides and got up to put his cloak on. "Thank you."

He patted his friend's head gently and smiled before turning back to the castle.

Harry was so happy that when he opened the door of the dormitory, he dropped his cloak on the floor to quickly get onto his bed, but unfortunately he was not the only one standing in the room.

"See! I was not mad; he really has an invisibility cloak!"

"I didn't think it actually existed," said Theodore, in awe.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he forgot to use the map on the way back.

Harry was about to justify, but his eyes landed on Crabbe and Goyle, who were eating candies from an orange box.  Oh no,  Harry realised. 

They appeared to have devoured more than one of them. 

"Don't!" Harry wanted to warn them, but their bodies reacted first. He watched in horror as the two of them started to vomit and have nosebleeds at the same time.

Harry could not help but burst out laughing. The others did the same while the two were suffering. Malfoy's face, illuminated by his smile, caught Harry's attention without him even realising it.

Chapter Text

Dear Snuffles,

Hope you're okay, the first week back here's been terrible, I'm really glad it's the weekend.. We've got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mom.
You've probably heard from someone else, but I'm writing because I got sorted into Slytherin and I'm worried about what I'm becoming. I really like what I did last summer, but my friends will be disappointed if they learn the truth. What if I'm becoming a bad person? Maybe that's why I was sorted into Slytherin. But I already feel at home there. I'm confused.

I was also wondering, how did your brother die? I hope you don't mind me asking this question, but I was curious since it's because of him that I started to get into this.

We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon.

Please write back quickly.

Best,

Harry.



Harry attached the letter to his white snow owl and admired the bird flying high in the sky.

"Will you be okay?"
Harry turned to a worried Ron, who was standing next to an also worried Hermione.

"Don't worry." He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. "I'll get out as quickly as I can. I've faced worse."

"Harry," Hermione started. "It's Snape."

Harry sighed. 

"I won't do anything bad this time. Don't worry." He looked at both of his friends, who did not seem convinced.

After a moment, Ron opened his mouth, but nothing came out of it.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Do you..." Ron was clearly trying to find the right words and not make Harry angry. But it just made him annoyed. Did they perceive him as a ticking time bomb?
"Just say it."
"Will you really go to the tryouts tomorrow?" Ron blurted.

He told his friends he would go to the Slytherin tryouts, and it obviously reached out to more people than expected. The Gryffindors, who were becoming more tolerable after he knocked out Malfoy, quickly went back to their hatred.

 "I don't see why I shouldn't. I won't give up Quidditch just because I'm on the opposite team. And maybe I won't even qualify," he said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Ron side-eyed Hermione, who scoffed. "Harry. You are the best seeker at Hogwarts. I don't think you would even need to pass the tryouts to get on the team."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was not the  best . He had lost before, but it is true that against Malfoy, he was the best.

The three friends stayed there for a moment until the sky began to get darker. It was time for the detention, and Harry would never suspect that today would always be remembered.

"Enter Potter."

Malfoy was already in the classroom, sitting at the front with his chin resting on his hands, a strand of hair falling in his eyes. Harry wanted to throw up at the memory of Malfoy drowning in his blood.

"Potter, why are you standing here?" Snape asked nonchalantly. "Sit." He pointed with his wand to the chair next to Malfoy's, whose eyes widened in surprise as he reluctantly moved over to make room for Harry, who sat down and waited for the hell to begin.

"Tonight you will scrub the cauldrons of the first years  together . No magic is allowed. I will come back in two hours."

He then walked to the door but abruptly stopped and turned.

He scanned the two students with threatening eyes. 

"If I come back and see that something went wrong, I'll take the two of you to the headmaster's office. Do I make myself clear?" He spoke slowly and emphasised each word, making sure that his message would be understood.

"Yes, professor," they both mumbled.

He finally walked out of the room and slammed the door, leaving the two boys alone.

Inside the cauldrons were all sorts of substances. Harry took a look at the one in front of him and let out a disgusted sound. The filthy substance had a greenish-translucent tint. He was not going to have fun.

Harry stared at Malfoy, who seemed even more disgusted. Harry was used to cleaning up Dudley's mess. But Malfoy was certainly not used to doing that kind of chore. He was pureblood and wealthy, so he had been treated like a prince by his family and the wizarding world for his whole life. Harry smiled at the way Malfoy scrubbed his cauldron.

"What are you looking at?" Malfoy growled, not moving his eyes from the cauldron.

Harry swallowed, not realising he had stared at him for that long. He took his cloth and continued to scrub. An awkward silence stood between them.

After an hour of scrubbing, Harry was lost in his thoughts. They've always hated each other, but what if Harry had shaken his hand on the train? It would have changed everything, surely. Harry would have been in Slytherin from the start, but now Harry was in Slytherin and in detention with his so-called nemesis. What if the universe was trying to give them another chance? 

They need to move on. Culpability was eating him from the inside. He couldn't stay silent any longer. It was time to change.

Harry cleared his throat to catch Malfoy's attention. Malfoy didn't even look at him.

"Malfoy," Harry started.

Harry heard the other boy sigh. 

"What?" He turned his head.

Harry did not know how to say something like this. They've been enemies for too long.

"I'm sorry."

Malfoy's eyes widened at the sudden apology. "What?" He frowned.

"I'm sorry." Harry didn't break the stare and got closer. "For everything." He tried to smile.

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth like a fish until words came from it. 

"Have you gone mad?"

Harry stopped scrubbing. "I'm perfectly normal," he said, smirking. "I propose,' he stretched his hand, "a truce."

Malfoy's eyes got wider. "You are mad."

Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand back on his cauldron. "I bet we have a lot in common. We would be great friends if I hadn't rejected your friendship."

Malfoy scoffed while scrubbing the purplish fluids. "I was stupid for thinking I would be friends with you."

Harry's expression softened. 

"I know that you're not who you pretend to be."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. He seemed more open to the discussion. "What do you mean?"

Harry shrugged. "Just my intuition."

Now Malfoy was smirking and had shifted his position to entirely face Harry. "What else does your intuition tell you?"

"That we could be... friendly if we tried." Harry stretched his hand again. "Truce?"

Malfoy was sitting there, close to Harry, and appeared mesmerised. Harry felt his cheeks heating up. "What?"

Malfoy got closer and finally opened his mouth. "I've never noticed you had green eyes."

Harry was confused about why Malfoy was paying attention to his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that green is my favourite colour." He finally reached out and shook Harry's hand. "I'd like to add, let's not fight again."

Harry winced. "I'm sorry...”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “It didn't hurt that much.”

Harry grinned. “Let's be discreet outside of the common room."

Malfoy gave him a firm nod and turned to his cauldron. "Let's get it finished before Snape comes."

Harry mimicked this action.

"I'm going to be hated more than I already am."

Malfoy snorted and glanced at Harry. "People would sell their family to be friends with me,” he said. “You just want all the attention on you, don't you?"

Harry glanced back. "You're the one saying that? With all the things you did to get my attention?"

"Shut up, Potter."

Chapter Text

Malfoy and Harry walked together to the common room, where the fifth years were waiting for them.

"Draco!" Pansy got up from the couch next to the fire.

"Harry," Blaise walked up to him. He seemed worried. "How was it?"

Harry glanced at Malfoy, who nodded. "We've made a truce."

Blaise froze; his mouth was slightly open.

All the group stood up. "You what?"

"I will let Malfoy explain; I'm too tired, and my wrists hurt from scrubbing all of these cauldrons. Good night."

At the top of the stairs, he could hear the others confused by the situation. It was understandable; if he told his friends, they would not get it. 

It would be even worse; they would stop talking to him.

When he opened the door, he saw Regulus on his bed.

"You," the ghost said, looking inexplicably pleased. "What the fuck was that?"

"What do you mean?"

Regulus raised his eyebrows. “Really? Are we playing that game?”

Harry tilted his head. "What happened to you?"

"I could ask you the same."

Harry sighed. "Is it because I've made a truce with Malfoy?"

"Can I know how such a brilliant idea came to your mind?" asked Regulus sarcastically.

Harry let out a groan. "To be honest, I don't know either. It felt like the right thing to do.” He sighed. “We are not kids anymore; we should put the hatred away."

"Alright."

"Is that all you have to say? I thought you were going to scold me for that."

"Go to sleep," he said, flying to the door. "I'm exploring the castle these days. I hate to admit it, but the Ravenclaws have the most beautiful common room." He then disappeared through the door.

The snake next to the door hissed.

"Hello, massster.”

Oh, Lord, that night will be long.

"Good luck, Harry!" said Theodore.

"We know you're going to make it to the team!" said Daphne. Pansy was next to her, and she held out her hand to Harry. Harry gave her a perplexed look.

"Draco explained to us that we should behave civilly now, so..." She half smiled.

"Of course." Harry shook her hand. Then Crabbe and Goyle and some other people shook his hand, wishing him luck.

He was now facing Malfoy. "Good luck to you too." It felt somewhat strange to not insult him.

"Why?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going."

Harry stared at him wide-eyed. "What? You're giving up?"

"Yes. I think there is a fourth year who is going after the seeker position, but I don't think he's a menace. He never made it onto the team.” He cleared his throat. “His name is Arthur Helias."

"Thanks, I have to go." Harry waved at him.

"Wait." Malfoy grabbed his arm, and Harry felt electricity where he had his fingers on. The same feeling appeared during the ritual, which was even stranger. Harry turned, trying to appear normal. "What?"

"I need to talk to you after the tryouts."

Harry nodded. "Sure."

He threw one last look at him before walking away.

On the pitch, he felt confident. Regulus told him a few tricks he learnt in his years. That made Harry catch the snitch five times. Arthur caught it only once, but he tried for the keeper position and made it onto the team. He proved to be an excellent keeper, blocking almost every shot that came his way. Crabbe and Goyle also made it onto the team as beaters.

Applause could be heard from the small crowd seated on the benches. The Slytherins seemed more than happy to have him on the team. Harry grinned as he let the snitch go. He did it!

"Congratulations, Potter," Montague, the captain, said. He shook his hand; his grip was firm. Montague then leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear. 

"You better not act too kindly with the Gryffindors. We'll crush them."

Harry snorted. "You can count on me."

He would not, of course, crush them as he stated. But he would make himself the pride of the house by winning all the games. If there was one thing he was confident in, it was his Quidditch abilities. 

On the stands, he perceived Malfoy. Harry made a sign for him to follow him to the locker room.

"Congratulations!"
"Thanks." Harry smiled and approached him while still holding his broomstick. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I know about—" Malfoy's eyes flickered to his hand. "What's that on your hand?" he asked, reaching for Harry's right hand.

Harry flinched and backed up. "Nothing," he replied coldly. 

"Let me see." He reached out once again. Harry stiffened, but he let him touch him, wondering if Malfoy could feel the magic too. 

"I must not tell lies..." Malfoy read. He raised his head, looking right into Harry's green eyes. 

"Who did this to you?"

Harry sighed. "Umbridge. She made me write with my blood."

Shock washed over Malfoy's face.

"It's nothing," Harry said.

"It's nothing? You should tell Snape!"

Harry snorted. "He hates me.” He let go of Malfoy's grip. “It will do nothing."

“But still! She doesn't have the right to do that!” -

"Alright. I won't interfere if you don't want to." He put his hands into the pockets of his cloak. “But I don't think it's the best idea to keep that to yourself.” 

Harry took a moment "Thanks." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "So, what did you want to say?"

"Oh that..." Malfoy started to smirk. Harry frowned at the sudden change of attitude. "I know why you were sorted into Slytherin."

Harry snorted. “Please, do enlighten me.”

"The others didn't seem to notice, but I did.” Malfoy slowly approached him. “And it's the same reason why I accepted your truce." He took another few steps forward, leaned in, and whispered,  "You are a dark wizard. I know the spell you put over your bed. At first I hadn't made the connection, but when you healed me, I finally understood."

Harry felt his whole body turn cold, and his heart started racing. How did he know? No, he couldn't. Harry started looking for Regulus.

Someone knew, and it was Malfoy. They may have made a truce, but he was the last person Harry wanted to know. He would tell everyone and ruin every friendship Harry had.
"You didn't mean the truce?" Harry finally asked, feeling betrayed but not surprised.
"I meant it," he said. Harry sighed in relief. “I won't tell anyone you wouldn't want me to tell.”

"You know, I can help you make this disappear," he said, touching the scar on Harry's hand. 

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked at the blond's face. "It's a potion. I can find all the ingredients. Let's say it's to make myself forgiven. Even if you should be the one trying to get forgiven for breaking my nose.”

"Alright," replied Harry, who was at a loss for words.

Malfoy smirked. "How did you get into dark magic?"

Harry gulped. If Malfoy found it, it was only a matter of time until Ron and Hermione would find it.

"Potter?"

"Sorry, I have to go. Hermione is waiting for me." He got out of Malfoy's grip. "See you," he said, almost running away, leaving Malfoy puzzled.

Harry was walking, lost in his thoughts. He needed to be more careful next time he cast a dark spell. Hermione is too smart to not notice. He really did not want to lose his friends. What he was doing was bad. But he just could not stop. It made him discover more about himself and the world around him. And if it was not for that, Harry could have never understood who Draco Malfoy really was. It was too early to call them friends, and maybe they would never be, but Harry hoped to stay like that.

On his way to wherever he was going, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. It felt like a real hand, not a ghost's hand. He turned and was standing in front of a slender black shadow. Harry blinked. Did he have a hallucination? 

The shadow was just there a second ago but quickly disappeared as Harry caught sight of it.

He was searching around to see where the shadow hid when he suddenly heard someone calling his name. Turning around, he saw that it was Hermione. Harry forgot what he just saw and walked towards her.

"So you've made it onto the team. We're in a bad situation." Hermione grinned. "I'm happy for you."

Harry put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" Hermione looked up at Harry, worried. "You seem disoriented."

Harry hesitated. "I have a question."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Sure, go ahead," she said with a reassuring smile.

Harry licked his bottom lip. "Do you mind if I make friends with the Slytherins?"

Hermione's eyes widened, but she didn't seem to object. "Well, I suppose it's your choice who you want to be friends with," she paused. "I'm all for inter-house friendship. But be careful; some of them are dark wizards and followers of You Know Who."

Harry was reassured. "And Ron? What would he think?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Harry..." 

He felt like he asked the wrong question and did not want to know anymore, but she continued, "He's scared of that. He's scared that you will replace him. But I'm sure it will come with time. He's not against Zabini, for example. If you're not friends with Malfoy, it should do."

Harry winced at her last words. How was he going to explain that he was becoming friendly with one of the people who bullied his friends?

"I wanted to ask you something too."

"Yes?" They started walking down an empty corridor.

Hermione stopped and pulled Harry's arm away. "It's more of a suggestion."

Harry nodded.

"We need your help. With Umbridge as a teacher, we won't learn anything. So with Ron, we thought..."

Unsure where the conversation was going, Harry listened.

"We need you as a teacher."

Chapter Text

Harry agreed to that foolish idea, and they scheduled a meeting weeks later. Harry wanted to talk about it with his Slytherin friends, but he thought it would not be such a great idea. The students from other houses would not accept it, and the behaviour of the Slytherins might add fuel to the fire. So now he also had to hide things from the Slytherins. Even if Harry was starting to become a good liar, the Slytherins would know.

Today he taught them the disarming spell. The spell that saved his life more than once; without that, he would not be standing there and teaching about it.

Harry wondered if he was a good teacher. He did not know as much as Hermione, but at the end of the meeting, they all thanked him.

"You're good at it," said Ron. "It was better than when Hermione tried to explain—ouch!" Hermione walked on his foot.

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

Everyone left the room. Except for Luna, who stood in the middle of the room, a soft grin on her face, looking at Harry. During the evening, Luna threw him curious looks. Harry wondered what this was about.

Harry approached her hesitantly. "Did you have a question?"

"Yes," she replied with her dreamy voice.

"Go ahead."

Luna pointed her finger next to Harry. "Who is this lovely man next to you?"

Harry almost choked, and Regulus' jaw dropped.

“What?” was all Harry could say.

“Who is this lovely man next to you?” she repeated.

“First of all,” he turned to Regulus, “he's not lovely.” Regulus scoffed. “Secondly, you can see him?” he exclaimed.

“Of course I can see him.”

He turned to Regulus. “You told me nobody could see you unless I told them!”

Regulus ignored his question and flew towards Luna. "Are you a medium?"

Luna wore a thoughtful expression. "I've seen the invisible since I was four years old. The first time was when I saw our old neighbour in the garden playing with the gnomes.” Harry hid a snort. “But I was too young to understand what it meant," she said as she approached the ghost. "I noticed you for the first time on the train. I thought it was better to say nothing." She then turned to Harry. "Some people wouldn't understand and would make fun of you like they do with me." She didn't sound sad, but Harry could sense a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Luna."

"Don't be; I'm used to it," she said softly, patting his shoulder. "I have to go before Umbridge suspects something. Bye, Harry, and..."

"Regulus," Harry said.

"Bye, Regulus." She then waved at them and made her way to the door.

"Wait!" Regulus flew ahead of her in a split second.

"Yes?" Luna tilted her head slightly.

"I... I knew your mother. I used to stay with her when I was obligated to stay with my brother and his stupid friends—sorry, Potter. We weren't close, but she was very nice. You look a lot like her," he added with a smile. Did Harry have a hallucination, or did Regulus genuinely smile? Not a smirk, but a genuine smile?

Luna returned the smile and attempted to pat Regulus on the back. "Thank you, Regulus."

Harry also walked towards her. "We'll accompany you to your common room.”

The three of them left the room quietly, all with a smile on their faces.

Another secret of his was revealed. But he knew Luna would not tell anyone about it. It was the repercussion of having too many secrets.

When Harry walked into the dorms, Malfoy stood right in front of him.

"Where have you been? Up to some ritual?"

"Shut up." Harry collapsed onto his bed.

Malfoy sat in his own bed, still keeping his eyes on Harry. "Why do you act like nothing happened? I thought you wanted us to be friends."

Friends would be reaching .

Since the time they talked in the locker room, Harry has avoided talking about the dark arts. Whenever the two were alone, Malfoy tried to bring that up. He was really nosy and wanted to know every detail of why he was a dark wizard. Was he even a dark wizard? He performed some dark spells and only one ritual; he did not feel experienced enough to proudly wear that title.

"Alright!" Harry snapped. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you already perform a ritual?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

Malfoy's eyes widened. "For real?"

Harry sat down to face Malfoy. "Yes, to open my third eye."

Malfoy's eyes widened even more. "Are you not scared of shadow people?"

Harry furrowed. "Who?"

Before he could have his answer, the door slammed open, and the other roommates entered the room. Then silence immediately fell. Malfoy groaned.

"What? Did we interrupt a date?" said Theodore, who sat on his bed to remove his shoes.

Malfoy took his pillow and threw it into Theodore's face. "Stop with those  kinds  of jokes!"

Harry closed the curtains on his bed and placed himself under the cover. If someone was nosier than Malfoy, it was Theodore. 

They were actually not so different from the Gryffindors. 

Two hours later, when he thought everyone was asleep, he went to grab a book from his trunk. That was when he noticed a light emanating from the bed next to his.

Harry peered through the curtain. Malfoy was reading what appeared to be an ancient potion book. He would love the ones in Sirius’ house. 

"Malfoy?" he whispered.

Malfoy jumped. "You scared me!" he said in a low voice.

"Sorry." Harry opened the curtain entirely. "What are you doing?" he asked, gesturing at the book lying on his lap.

"This is one of my old family potion recipes. I've been researching the potion I want to give you. That's what I've been studying these days. I have all the ingredients except for the snake venom."

Harry took a look inside the book and saw that the book was written in French. Probably old French. “Do you understand that?”

“Yes. My mother used to talk to me in French when I was younger. Every Black family member speaks French. And I also have some French family from my father's side.”

Regulus leaned over Harry's shoulder. “It's not true; Sirius had always been bad at French.” 

He wondered where he came from until he remembered. Oh yes,  he thought,  ghosts unfortunately don't sleep.

Harry changed the subject. “So with the potion I won't have a scar anymore?”

“Exactly,” Malfoy said, staring at Harry. They were close. The light between them made them look like they were glowing with a supernatural aura, as if they were two stars in the night sky. Harry was bent on the bed to see the book and didn't dare to move. He could smell Malfoy's scent from where he was. He felt like he was under the rain in a deep, dark forest with the wind brushing his face. Or perhaps it was Malfoy's breath.

They both stared at each other for a moment, and Malfoy was the first to break the eye contact. “We should go to sleep,” he said, closing the book loudly.

At his words, Harry quickly returned to his bed.

Harry was enjoying the end of the weekend by reading on his bed with Regulus. He took the opportunity to stay with him whenever the dormitory was empty. Which was rare nowadays. Especially in the evening.

“So you say 'formare' and everything you want comes to life?” Harry asked.

“Not everything,” corrected Regulus. “And it's temporary.”

“For example?”

The knock at the door interrupted their conversation. With a wave of his wand, Harry opened the door. A white owl burst into the room.

“Hedwig!” He gently petted her.

She came back with a letter. Probably Sirius' letter. He would finally have his answers. Regulus leaned on Harry's shoulder to read the paper.

Yes, I've heard. I'll tell you more in person.

For my brother, he died because of Voldemort. He was a Death Eater and tried to back out. I can't say more, we don't exactly know the causes of his death.

S.

The excitement quickly became disgust. He had expected everything but that. He slowly put the letter down and looked at Regulus, who seemed as shocked as him.

Harry never felt so betrayed in his life. How could he talk to Harry knowing who he was? How could he be in the same room as him? He must have had a good laugh making Harry think he was his friend. Harry shared his deepest secrets, and Regulus had been mocking him the entire time. He clenched his fist onto the letter, almost ripping it. He thought he was his friend; he really thought. 

But Harry Potter was an idiot.

He could not contain himself any longer. He got up off his bed and stood before the ghost.

“Is it true?” he said loudly, gesturing at the paper. With no answers, Harry lost his temper. “Is it true?!”

“Harry...” Regulus tried.

“Don't call me by that name! You don't have the right, after what he did to my parents, to me!” 

Regulus didn't answer.

“You lied!” Harry shouted. “You didn't drown!”

“It's not what you think,” he said, almost whispering. He flew slowly towards Harry. He looked like he was about to cry. But Harry could not care less. He was part of them.

Harry threw the letter at him and started to throw every other object he found at him.

“You liar!” he yelled, throwing a pillow at him. “You had a choice. My parents didn't have one. Neither did I! Because of you, everything I had collapsed into pieces!” 

He wanted to blame him for everything.

The door slammed open, and Harry suddenly stopped what he was doing. Blaise came into view with Malfoy behind. 

“What the hell is happening?” 

Malfoy looked at the room that was now totally upside down. “What happened?!”

Harry was panting with a book of transfiguration in his hand. It was Theodore's. He wanted to throw a last glare at the ghost, but the coward had disappeared. He dropped the book at his feet.

“Nothing happened,” he murmured. “I'm going to bed.”

The two Slytherins looked bewildered but said nothing. Harry heard the others coming and asked what happened, but they could not find an answer. Then they cast a few spells to put the room in order.

How could he?

Harry could not sleep. He could not stop thinking about  him . Inside his head was a mess. 

His thoughts were filled with the images of Regulus over the past few months. He turned over and tried to find a better position. But a knot was starting to form in his throat. 

He trusted him so much. It physically hurt. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Soon, the tears flooded his pillow. He turned on his belly to muffle the sob. He did not have the strength to cast a silence spell over him.

The curtains of his bed moved. Probably the wind, he thought. Until he remembered they were under a lake.

He silently sat down, crossing his legs, facing the curtain. Someone peered through it. A grey eye with a strand of blond hair.

“Potter?”

Harry sniffed. He felt weakened. The last time someone saw him cry other than Sirius was when Cedric died.

Malfoy opened the curtain. “What are you doing?” He sat next to him. Harry felt his knee brush against his. “Are you crying?”

Harry replied with a sob. Malfoy pulled away a strand of his black hair hiding his eyes. “What happened?” he said, looking a tad uncomfortable. 

Harry shook his head. Malfoy hesitantly smiled. Harry was surprised by the gesture but felt a bit better by the warmth of it. He seemed worried, almost sad to see him like this. 

The blond then whispered, “Harry... Breathe.”

He felt like he had been electrocuted. Was he going mad, or did Draco Malfoy call him by his first name? 

“Draco...” Harry whispered. “You should go back to sleep.”

He smiled again. “It's going to be fine. Everything will be fine.”

Chapter Text

How did he get himself in such a situation? Oh, he was so embarrassed.  "Everything will be fine." Why did I say that? Draco, pull yourself together!

He never saw him like that before. Harry was exposing all his weaknesses, and Draco had felt obligated to comfort him. 

He probably picked that from his mother. When he cried, and he used to cry a lot as a kid, his mother comforted him by saying gentle words, hugging him, or stroking his hair. That was what felt right to do. But he never did such a thing before. He never comforted Pansy or Blaise in that way. 

Harry Potter cried in front of him. His eleven-year-old self would be screaming right now. But his fifteen-year-old self gathered his thoughts.

He gently moved the blanket over Harry who quickly fell asleep and spent a few minutes admiring the boy. 

Draco had no idea what had happened to him to be in that state, but it appeared that the Boy Who Lived needed some rest.

—

Harry did not have a nightmare last night, but he was troubled by what happened. 

He was going to call Regulus to ask what he should do, but Harry forgot that his friend was the reason why Draco comforted him in the first place. 

He was so lost. 

When he woke up, everyone had left. It must be breakfast hour. He was going to join them when he heard a voice. 

"Hello, massster." 

He was going to ignore him when an idea came abruptly to his mind. 

Harry pointed his wand at the painting. 

"Don't worry, it won't hurt."

 The snake stayed still. 

"Formare." 

Light erupted from his wand while Harry got pushed by his own magic. 

Once the flashes of light caused by the spell disappeared, Harry leaned against the closest bed. On the floor was the small snake. The painting on the wall was now empty except for the storm. 

"I need your help,"  he addressed the snake. 

The snake bowed.  "Anything massster." 

Opening his trunk, he searched through the books for a vial. He then showed the vial to the snake.  "I need your venom." 

He crouched while the snake approached obediently. The snake showed his fangs and bit the tip of the vial to spit his venom inside. 

"Is that enough masssster?"  the snake hissed. 

"Perfect,"  Harry said, closing the vial.  "How should I call you?" 

"My name is Basil masssster."

"Hey, Harry! Why didn't you come to— Blaise's eyes adverted to Harry's bed, where he was carefully stroking Basil. He gaped and took a moment before talking again. 

"What the hell is that?" 

"My new companion, Basil," said Harry in a neutral tone, still stroking the snake. 

Blaise stared at him, eyes wide. "Where—where did it come from?" he stammered. 

The snake hissed, and Blaise jumped. 

"I really don't like it!" 

"Remember the painting?"

"The painting?" Blaise turned around where the snake usually lived. "What's with the painting—" he paused. "No, you didn't."

Harry smirked. "Yes, I did."

Blaise frowned and took on a thoughtful expression. "But... isn't it..."

He was interrupted by someone coming into the room. Draco appeared.

Harry grinned. "I got it," he showed the vial. 

"Got what?" he asked, confused. 

"The venom."

"How did you—" He dragged his eyes to Basil, who hissed. "No."

"See! I'm not the only one who thinks it's not appropriate," exclaimed Blaise.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Theodore would like him."

Draco walked towards Harry to take the venom. "You're a genius, Potter. But don't let this thing approach us."

His heart dropped. 

Potter? 

"Do you still call each other by your first name?" The two boys turned to Blaise. 

Harry frowned. "I don't know, ask him," he said defiantly, facing Draco, who narrowed his eyes, even more confused.

"It's time to go to class," was all he said. 

Harry was on his way to join his friends when he felt a cold hand reaching for his neck. It was as if he were back in his third year with the Dementors and their terrifying cold aura. It sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly turned around and saw nothing but the empty hallway. Heart racing, he took a deep breath and continued on his way. But before he could ask himself what it was, he heard someone calling his name. It was Luna. 

She waved at him.

"Hey, Luna."

"Can we talk?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Of course," he replied. 

She looked uncertain. Harry had never seen her like that. He was used to her angelic way of speaking and her dreamy appearance. 

"Listen..." she paused, thinking of the right words to choose. "He's sorry. Very sorry."

Harry sighed and started walking in the opposite direction. "Oh," he scoffed. "He came to you." 

Luna walked after him. "He came to me right after your fight. He explained everything. I see why you are angry, but I don't understand why you don't forgive him. He had the pressure of his parents on his shoulders, especially after his brother left." 

And Regulus told her about that. The ghost who was very private, especially when it came to his family. At least he had a new friend.

Harry started walking faster, almost running. 

"I don't care," he said, irritated. 

Luna ran after him and grabbed his arm, gripping him tightly. 

"Why did you forgive the Slytherins then? They're also children of Death Eaters. You know some of them won't escape their destiny.” Harry winced. “Why did you forgive them? Why did you forgive Draco Malfoy when he bullied you and your friends?" 

Harry stopped abruptly. After a moment, he turned to her. "Did he tell you that?"

"What?" she asked, confused. 

"How do you know I forgave Dra–Malfoy?" 

"Oh, he didn't have to tell me. I saw it." 

Harry frowned, and his breath became shorter. "You... saw it.”

She let out a small sigh. "My tarot cards told me."

Harry was confused. "Did you try the tea leaves?"

“That's rude.” She frowned.

“Sorry.”

"That's alright; we're not here to talk about him." 

"Right." Harry stared at his feet.

"It's your decision," she spoke gently. "He regrets his past life; he thought he could fix his mistakes by helping you. By that time, he became fond of you." She gave him a soft smile. "And you are bound to him; you won't escape him any longer." 

Harry rolled his eyes; he had forgotten about it. 

"Regulus, come here," he called. 

The ghost appeared behind the corner of the wall in front of them. He walked hesitantly towards them. 

"Yes?" 

There was an awkward silence. Regulus glanced at Luna for help, but she only gave him a smile.

"I'm still mad at you," Harry started. "You are not forgiven entirely. I'll take time to think, but you can stay with me." 

Regulus' eyes widened. "Thank you," he replied shyly. "I'm sorry."

"I hope you are," said Harry dryly. 

At the end of the day, everything went fine. He had spent some time studying with Ron and Hermione at the library with Regulus watching them. He wondered if he was going to be ready one day to tell them that he could see his godfather's brother's ghost. He would not tell them about the dark magic part, that was for sure.
The first Quidditch match would start very soon. Harry was excited, but he feared it at the same time. It was Slytherin against Gryffindor. Harry wanted to win this match, his first match won as a Slytherin, but on the other team, there was Ron, which made the task difficult. He did not want to hurt his best friend. He knew how important it was for him. But if they had Ginny as a seeker, it would be a challenge.
"Potter!"
Harry raised his head, Draco was stepping out of the Slytherin common room. 

"I have the potion ready!" he said, shaking a vial in his hand.

Harry half smiled. 

"So when do I drink it?"

"You won't need to drink it. It's like a pomade, but—"

"What in the bloody hell?!"

Harry turned around to see Ron's face, gaping at them. His dilated eyes were looking between the two of them. He was holding Harry's charms book he had visibly forgotten at the library. Hermione was next to him, also looking rather shocked. 

Harry hastened to say, "Ron, it's not what it looks like—" 

"Tell me then,” he snapped. “What are you doing?" 

Harry glanced at Draco but he didn't dare to say anything.

"Hermione was right, they changed you."

"No Ron, listen–" he reached out for his shoulder but his hand was immediately pushed away. 

"You're friends with Malfoy?!"

Harry looked at the blonde and then back to Ron. 

“No!” 

Ron's cheeks were flushed. “Of course you're not. Here's your book," he tossed the book at Harry's feet. "Don't even bother to apologise." Three seconds later he was gone.

His eyes were now on Hermione, who looked close to tears. "Hermione, please," he pleaded.

She shook her head without replying and followed Ron.

Harry watched them leave with a knot in his throat. He stooped to take his book from the floor and walked towards the common room. 

"Harry, wait," Draco said, grabbing his arm. 

"Oh, so it's Harry when it suits you," he said, irritated.

"No, it's not—” 

Harry looked right into his silver eyes. "I need some time alone,  Malfoy ." 

Draco let go of his arm, and Harry climbed the stairs to the dormitory to get his stuff ready for the DA meeting. 

The meeting was exactly what he expected it to be. Ron was not there, and there was a silence between Hermione and him. He did not want to hurt them like that. He knew what he was doing when he started to befriend Draco Malfoy. And he still did it. He knew he would not be able to hide it. Draco had stopped being rude to them since he got into Slytherin. Perhaps, Draco was already looking forward to their friendship, but he tried the wrong way to earn it. 

No, he didn't. Stop thinking everything revolves around you! 

He stepped inside the common room, and to his wonder, there was a group of fifth years waiting on the couches next to the fire, staring at him. Pansy Parkinson immediately stood up when she noticed him and walked towards him. Harry, who did not know what her intentions were, backed up and found himself against the wall. 

"You can't hide  anything  from us," she said. 

"Pansy," said Daphne calmly. "Come back and sit down." 

Pansy, who was as tall as he was, shot him a glare and came to sit back between Daphne and Millicent Bulstrode. "Come," said Goyle, who motioned towards the chair in front of the fire. 

Harry hesitantly made his way towards the chair and sat down. They were all looking at him as if they expected him to speak. "Er... What am I supposed to say?" 

Parkinson sighed. "You see! He's acting clueless." 

"You didn't even tell him what it was about!" defended Draco.

Parkinson stood up again. Harry wanted to shrink in his chair. 

"We know you're up to something." 

"Up to what?" Harry arched an eyebrow, having no idea what she was saying. 

Parkinson curled her hand into a fist. 

"Don't pretend you don't know! You're always leaving the common room at certain hours to go we-don't-know-where. We even tried to follow you, but you were completely gone. Disappeared!”

Harry remained silent. He did not want to face one of his lies again. He had enough for today. 

"Lost your tongue, Potter?" said Parkinson. 

But was it really worth it to lie about that?

He closed his eyes, tired of the day. 

"We've created the Dumbledore army."

"The what?!" they all exclaimed. 

Chapter Text

"So we practice the spells that Umbridge forbids us.”

All of them had their eyes widened. It felt like the first time he entered the common room wearing the Slytherin uniform. 

Blaise stood up. "That's a great idea!" he exclaimed. All eyes were on him. Harry could not understand whether they were disgusted or shocked.

"Have you lost your mind, Blaise?" said Bulstrode.

"Wait," Parkinson said, looking at the whole group. "Blaise is right." She turned to Harry. "It's a great idea. You actually aren't that stupid, Potter."

"Actually," Harry started, embarrassed. "The idea came from Hermione." 

Parkinson scoffed. "That explains." 

"Could you also teach us?"

Everyone turned to Daphne, staring blankly at her. 

"What? He's helping everyone but us. We have our OWLs at the end of the year too! We need to have a proper teacher."

Bulstrode stood up. "I don't want to study with mudbloods and blood traitors!" 

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" 

"Millicent!" yelled Daphne. "Don't say this word! We swore to not use it ever again. I thought you changed."

Harry stared at Draco, who threw him an apologetic look. Draco had stopped using this word, not only him but all the other Slytherins. 

“Did you really change, or are you all just doing that because I'm here? 

Daphne half smiled. “Most of us changed Harry…”

Harry, furious about how she called his friends, pointed his finger at Bulstrode. "And don't participate if you call my friends like this." 

"Friends?" Don't make me laugh! I saw you earlier with Draco. They seemed to be pretty mad. Especially the ginger one."

"It's not any of your business."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not participating in this. Now I'm going to bed," she said, glaring at him. 

She walked away, and after a silence, Harry asked, "Does anyone else have any objections?" 

They all shook their heads. 

"I know a place where we can meet. Let's plan our first meeting."

—

Draco shook it for thirty seconds, and the potion was finally ready. He had to give it to Potter but could not find the courage.

Draco was disconcerted by his own behaviour. The worry felt towards Harry was not something he was used to. Not even to his friends! 

It was his fault his friends did not talk to him anymore. If only he had not acted like such a prat before. He regretted it and hated himself so much; he had ruined everything. 

"Can I come? I have the potion."

The other bed curtains drew open, and Harry appeared with his messy hair and his too-large pyjamas.

Draco moved onto the other bed and carefully chose to not sit too close to Harry. 

"As I said, it's like a pomade, so you apply it on your hand and the scar will disappear. But it won't work on the one on your forehead if you want to know." Harry let out a small chuckle, and Draco smiled. 

Harry took a more serious expression and seemed hesitant, but Draco waited for him to talk. 

"Why do you not insult my friends anymore?" 

“What a stupid question.” Draco frowned. 

Harry raised an eyebrow in answer.

"Because I don't hate you anymore." He couldn't believe he said it out loud. "Also because..."

"Because?" Harry asked impatiently. 

"After what happened this summer... I changed my mind." Draco looked away. "I don't think like this anymore."

Harry smiled like a child on Christmas morning and put his hand on Draco's shoulder to give it a squeeze. 

"I'm proud of you." 

Draco turned back to Harry. 

No one ever told him that. Why was Potter—out of everyone—the first to tell him?

"Please don't tell anyone. I don't want my dad to know that I'm too friendly with you or your friends."

Harry gave another squeeze and smiled. "Don't worry." 

"So..." Draco cleared his throat and raised the vial for Harry to see. "Should we do it?"

Harry held out his hand to him. 

He unscrewed the cap of the vial and poured the pearly blue mixture on his own fingers. Feeling eyes on him, he quickly put the thing over Harry's scar. He touched him delicately as if his hand was a rose petal. The electricity surrounding his body, especially in his heart, was impressive. Harry's magic was strong and peaceful at the same time; Draco had never seen such a thing before.

"Wow," said Harry, admiring his new skin. 

"Go wash the excess in the bathroom," said Draco, walking with Harry to the bathroom. 

After he closed the door, a hand was placed on his shoulder. He flinched.

"What are you doing?" 

He turned to see Blaise still looking sleepy. Draco pushed the hand away. "You scared me!" 

"What were you doing with Potter?" Blaise raised an eyebrow and started smirking. 

Draco winced. "Why are you always imagining the worst? You're spending too much time with Theo."

"I'm just kidding," he sighed and took a more serious tone. "Your friendship with him is going fast. Be careful."
"What do you mean?" asked Draco incredulously.
"You're too attached. It's dangerous."
Draco's eyes widened.
Blaise snorted. "Don't pretend you don't understand."
Draco looked at his feet. "I don't fucking care what you think."
Blaise took him by the shoulders. "Draco. He's not like you. One day you will..."
"I know!" Draco snapped.
"There is no need to wake up the whole dungeon!" whispered Blaise harshly.
The door of the bathroom opened, leaving a confused Harry. 

"What is going on?"
"Nothing." Draco threw a last glare at Blaise before going back to his bed.
Tonight, he could not sleep.

—
A few days later, Harry tried to talk to Ron and Hermione. Ron only ignored him, and Hermione half smiled but did not reply. 

He did not know how to get himself forgiven. He tried to come to them, but they avoided him every time. Perhaps they needed time, but Harry needed his friends. 

Today was the match against Gryffindor. That would not make things better. If Slytherin won, Ron would feel bad about himself and would not talk to Harry at all. If Gryffindor won, Harry was going to be ridiculed by his house. 

It was his first match as a Slytherin, and he was expected to win. 

On his broom, Harry gathered his thoughts and did his best to search for the golden snitch that was nowhere to be seen. Ginny was observing him as if she was ready to follow him. 

To be honest with himself, Ron had potential as a keeper, but he was not confident enough. He missed the Quaffle more than three times. 

Searching for the snitch, Harry flew closer to the Slytherin tribute, and he heard what he thought was an encouragement chant. But when he focused on the lyrics, he soon realised that it was not. 

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That’s why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley will make sure we win

Weasley is our King.

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King."

He apperceived Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin singing that. He stared at Draco, who was staring back at him, and rapidly turned away. 

At least he was the only one with Daphne who was not singing. He could not see Blaise and Theo, but Harry deeply hoped they had their mouths closed. 

"Hey!" Harry flew closer to them. "What is that?" he asked furiously. 

"It's the song I wrote!" said Parkinson, apparently enjoying herself. "Don't you like it?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Of course not!"

Parkinson sighed and rolled her eyes. "You have a match to win, go get the snitch." 

"I will stay here until you stop. If you continue to sing this, I will make us lose. Ron is my friend."

Parkinson was bewildered. "I thought he wasn't your friend!"

“He’s my best friend." 

"I'm sorry, Harry!” she pleaded. “Draco told me not to do that, but I thought you would appreciate it." She pursed her lips, waiting for Harry's reaction. 

She sounded sincere, but Harry would remember, and surely Ron as well.

Then, Parkinson gestured for all the Slytherins to stop. "Stop! Let's encourage Harry!" 

The Slytherins followed her and stopped singing those atrocious words. 

Harry looked in Ron's direction, who smiled at him and almost fell from his broom. 

Everyone went first to celebrate Slytherin's victory. But Harry would have to wait.

"We're so sorry!" said Hermione when they were outside the pitch on their way to the castle. 

"It's understandable.” Harry put her in his arms and patted her head. “He was a complete prat, and he had said awful things to you. I should have told you first.”

He then looked at Ron. “He knows he was an idiot; he regrets it.”

"Really?" asked Ron, who raised an eyebrow. 

Harry withdrew from the embrace and pursed his lips. 

"Really," he said, still looking at him. 

"I guess that's your choice," he mumbled. He was not looking at them; instead, he was kicking stones with his foot. 

Harry approached Ron and put his hand on his shoulder. He raised his head at the touch. 

"I'm sorry, Ron. I know how much you hate him, but he changed. He proved it to me."

Ron sighed. "What we wouldn't do for you..." 

Harry grinned. 

The three started walking together. 

"You stopped them singing." 

"It was nothing."

"I bet it was Malfoy's idea," Ron whispered to Hermione without realising Harry could hear them.

"Hey! He wasn't even singing the song!" 

Ron rolled his eyes. "If you say so. As long as he doesn't make you fall into dark magic."

Harry gulped. 

"Oh, I forgot!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" The two boys turned to her. 

"Hagrid is back!" 

"Harry!" The giant said when he opened the wooden door.

"I was surprised last time when Ron and Hermione went to visit me without you. I thought you were mad at me."

Harry rolled his eyes at them. 

“He was sick,” Ron lied. “We didn’t want you to catch a cold.” Hermione elbowed him.

Harry smiled. "How could I be mad at you, Hagrid!" 

"I couldn't attend the match. Tell me about it." He started to prepare the tea. "I hope Gryffindor won!" Hagrid chortled. 

The three friends looked at each other hesitantly.

Hermione started, "About that..."

"Mh?" 

"I got expelled," said Harry, not knowing how to start.

"Oh yeah! I've heard. The ministry!" He groaned.  ”At least we’re two!” 

Ron snorted.

"Yeah..." Harry continued. “I had to be sorted again." He winced; he could not anticipate his reaction. 

"You tell me!" He turned to put the tea service on the table. 

"Hagrid." 

"Yeah?" he said, looking at Harry, not understanding where the conversation was leading.

"I won, but Gryffindor lost." 

"What d’you mean?" His eyes narrowed. 

Harry opened his arms and said, "I'm a Slytherin now."

"..."

"Hagrid?" called Ron. "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

In an instant, he collapsed to the ground.

"Hagrid!" 

"It's alright; he just had a little shock," said Ron, coming back from the infirmary. "At least let's look a the positive part, he won't teach for a few days."
Hermione hit him on the shoulder, and Ron winced. "Ron! It's not funny!"
"Sorry..." he said, walking away from her.
Harry stopped. "I have to go back to the dungeons; they are probably celebrating, and I don't want to miss that."
"See you soon!" said Hermione. They both waved at him and went separate ways.

Before entering, he could already hear the loud music and people chatting.
"He's here!" said Pansy when he entered.
They all acclaimed him, and some clapped him on the back. "Our hero!"
"It wasn't hard to beat the Weasley."
"We've got the best seeker. We'll win that cup for sure!"

It was funny how Slytherins could change their minds so quickly about someone.
But with all the fuss, he could not see Blaise or Draco.
"Pansy?" he called loudly, walking towards the girl. "Where are the boys?"
"Upstairs!"
“They’re not celebrating?”

Pansy shrugged in answer.

Harry climbed the stairs. "Why aren't you—"

He stopped abruptly seeing what the boys were holding in their hands. His trunk was on the floor, wide open.
"What are you doing?!" He tried to take his books off their hands. "Give me that!" he said to Crabbe.
"Hoho, I didn't know Harry Potter was interested in dark magic," said Theodore, flipping pages of a book about spirits and souls.
"I knew it!" Blaise approached him. "The spell on the snake, it was dark magic." He opened his arms and sarcastically addressed the others. "Harry Potter is a dark wizard."
"Why were you going through my stuff?" asked Harry bitterly.
Theodore shrugged. "Pansy told me."
Harry's eyes widened. He then turned to Draco, who saw him and hid behind Goyle.
"You told her! I thought it was our secret!" He definitely could not trust Draco with certain things.

"Technically," he said, coming out from Goyle's back. "I only told Pansy, who told Blaise, who told Theodore, who told Gregory, who told Vincent," he said that while counting on his hand.

Harry was speechless.

"Don't worry," said Blaise. "We'll keep your secret."

Wonderful.

Chapter Text

"It's mental that you told all of them.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Did you really think that Pansy could keep a secret for herself?"

 They were eating breakfast in the Great Hall together. Harry liked these precious moments a lot. But last night, he fell asleep with a knot in his stomach. Harry headed to bed without telling them more about his little dark secret. 

And Merlin, they asked a lot of questions. 

"Who taught you?"

Oh, my godfather, who is supposed to be in prison, he had a brother who now is a ghost and follows me everywhere. 

"When did you discover that you were a dark wizard?" 

  Some crazy man whispered me things, and here we are. 

At that precise moment, Harry did not think that it was any sort of precious. 

He wanted to kill Draco Malfoy.

 "What are you rolling your eyes for?" he asked bitterly.

 Draco sighed. He whispered in Harry's ear, "Harry. Look around us." 

Harry looked at Blaise and Theo, who were stuffing their mouths with all the eggs they could. He looked at Pansy and Daphne giggling and gossiping. 

Draco grabbed him by the chin which made Harry freeze for a moment. 

"We are in Slytherin." They both looked into each other's eyes. “Almost all of us are connected with dark magic. Salazar would be proud of you."

Harry winced at the last phrase.

"We're in this together." Draco smiled, and Harry tried to smile back.

Then someone cleared their throat. Blaise was staring at them with an eyebrow raised. 

Harry and Draco looked at the people around them and realised they had all stopped talking and had their eyes on them.

Harry gulped. Draco's hand was on his chin. On his chin. Draco Malfoy touching Harry Potter at the Slytherin table. 

Draco immediately put his hand right where it belonged and continued eating without a word, only reading the Daily Prophet. 

"Don't worry, Harry," started Theo. "Your secret is safe with us. And besides, who do you want us to tell? Everybody hates us."

“Count me in,” Harry replied nonchalantly. 

Blaise snorted, and then the gossips were broken by a metallic noise.

 Draco dropped his fork.

 Harry turned to him. "Are you alright?"

 Draco's hands were shaking while clutching the paper.

 "Draco?" asked Blaise, worried.

 Draco could not take his eyes away from the newspaper. 

  "Mass breakout from Azkaban."  Harry could read. He could not see the image very well because of Draco's hands. 

"Draco? Who is that?" asked Harry calmly. 

”My crazy aunt." He gulped. 

 Blaise hurried on the Daily Prophet, and his eyes widened as he saw the person's name. Theodore gasped.

"Wait... I don't understand. Was your aunt in Azkaban?"

Draco slowly nodded. He looked paler than he usually was.

"Her name is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry took a moment of reflection. He knew this name. Where did he hear it from...

Regulus, who arrived, sat next to Harry. "What is going on?" 

Harry took a look at Regulus and rapidly understood why her name was so familiar. 

 "The Black's family tree! I knew I'd heard that name before." 

"What are you talking about?" said Draco and Regulus at the same time.

"I saw her on the Black's family tree back at–"

He could not say the last words. Of course! How stupid he was! 

"At...?" asked Blaise.

Harry shook his head. "At my... Godfather's house."

Even more stupid!

Draco frowned. "And may I ask who is your godfather?" He sounded curious, like he forgot what he had just read.

 "I have to go. Hermione told me to meet at…” He paused. “Now."

 "You don't finish your eggs?" asked Theo.

 "Take them."

He walked out of the crowd, and Draco was behind him calling his name. 

"Harry!" 

It was Draco. Harry stopped.

"Who is your godfather? I know everyone in the Black family, and I surely don't think there would be someone who would be related to you. Are you sure you don’t—”

 "It's Sirius Black," Harry said.

Draco abruptly stopped talking, and his eyes widened, almost popping out. 

There was a dead silence until there was the moment of realisation.

"Your godfather is Sirius B—"

 Harry put his hand on his mouth to make him shut up. He looked around and was worried that someone might have heard them. 

Draco still had his eyes widened. Of course, he could not believe it. Everyone thought he had betrayed his parents, gone to prison, escaped, and that he wanted to kill Harry. So yes, no one would believe him. But after what happened to Harry. Harry knew that Draco would believe him.

"OK, tell me when I have to laugh." 

Maybe not.

"I am dead serious. I reacted the same way when I discovered it." 

That isn't true,  he thought; you screamed and cried.

"Bloody hell."

"I know." Harry patted his shoulder.

"You went to the Black's house then? Is he..." Draco hesitated. 'Is he hiding in there?"

“Maybe,” Harry replied.

"That is..."

"Crazy, I know.”

"Trust me." Draco reached Harry's shoulder. "I won't tell anyone this time.

Harry wore his most sarcastic smile. “Of course.” 

Harry had agreed to meet the Slytherins on the seventh floor in front of the Room of Requirement. He did not know whether they knew the existence of this place, but he thought it would be the best place. 

"Thanks to everyone for coming."

All the fifth years were there, even the ones he did not like. 

"Why did you bring us here?" asked Bulstrode bitterly. "We won't learn in the corridors, right?"

Harry saw Pansy elbowing her. 

Harry snorted. "Of course not. Watch." 

He walked in front of the trolls’ tapestry and concentrated on his thoughts. 

We need to fight. 

Then he heard some gasps from behind him. 

"Amazing!" said Goyle, who looked stunned.

"Let's enter," Harry said while opening the door. "Ladies first," he said to Draco, who hit his shoulder. 

"By the way," started Blaise. "How are we supposed to go here when Umbridge is looking out for everyone?"

"Er..."

"I know!" said Theo. "We could use Polyjuice!"

"No!" said Harry horrified. "It's the most disgusting thing I've ever tried! I'm not doing that again."

Draco approached him. The others were setting up the room. "You drank Polyjuice?"

“Long story.”

“I have plenty of time.”

Harry looked at Draco.

"In second year, we wanted to know if you were the heir of Slytherin. Don't look at me like that! We were suspicious of you... He hesitated. “Anyway, we—Hermione—made some Polyjuice, and we entered the Slytherin common room."

Draco could not believe what he just heard and burst into laughter. 

Harry smiled. "Sorry." 

"Don't..." He caught his breath. "You are full of surprises!"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I guess..."

"I can't believe you did that! I knew something was off that day!"

Harry snorted. "We should help them," he said, gesturing to the other students.

Harry taught them the disarming spell as he did for the DA's first lesson. Draco and Blaise quickly understood while the others quickly caught up. It was easier to teach them than the DA. There were fewer people, and he felt like the Slytherins understood him better. They rapidly became a family. Even if Harry did not like Bulstrode, she listened to him and made no further judgements towards his friends. 

 "You really have a lot of things happening to you," said Regulus, occupying Harry's bed like always. "And by the way, why did you tell little Malfoy about Sirius?"

Harry huffed. "Don't call him like that!" 

"You didn't reply to my question."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't know... He's my friend, I guess."

Regulus arched his brow. "But you didn't tell Blaise."

Harry laughed. "It's funny that we hated each other at first. I mean, he was a total idiot. Let's be honest, he..."

Regulus sighed.

A beautiful redheaded woman was grinning at him.

“Mom?” Harry said. They were in the middle of a forest, only trees were surrounding them.

“My love,” she said. “He’s coming…”

“Who?” 

She smiled, and before Harry could ask more, she got struck by a green light.

Then the dream changed...

His body felt powerful and lax. He was looking for his prey. This one was not so far from him. When he turned his head, he saw a man sitting on the floor. Perfect.

Harry longed to bite the man. He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood.

The man was yelling in pain, then he fell silent; he slumped backwards against the wall and blood was splattering onto the floor

His forehead hurt terribly; it was aching fit to burst.

"HARRY!"

Who was it?
He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; his bedcovers were twisted all around him, and he felt like burning through his whole body.
"Harry!"
Draco was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him... he rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

"He's really ill," said a scared voice. "Should we call someone?"
"Harry! Harry!"

He had to tell Ron.

Harry pushed himself up in bed, willing himself not to throw up again.
Where was Ron? He should be... Oh no.
"Ron. I have to tell Ron. His dad..." he panted.
"Blaise... call Professor Snape." Harry could not identify the voices around him except Draco's.
"You were just dreaming..." said Draco.
"No... I saw him. I was..."
"Calm down, Harry. Blaise went to call Snape. He will help you," he said in a gentle voice.

'I'm fine!' Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pyjamas and shaking uncontrollably.

"He was bleeding..."
The door opened.

Snape hurried towards him.
"What is it, Potter?"

"Ron, Dad... He was attacked... I need to tell him..." He tried to stand up, but his legs were shaking.

He had never been so pleased to see him; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix he needed now—even if he was the worst.

'It's Ron's dad," he said, sitting up again. "He's been attacked by a snake, and it's serious; I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor Snape, his dark eyebrows contracting.

"I don't know... I was asleep, and then I was there..."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No!" said Harry angrily. Would none of them understand?

"I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid..." He shivered at the memory of his mother. “And then this interrupted it. It was real; I didn't imagine it. Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor, and he was attacked by a gigantic snake; there was a lot of blood, and he collapsed. Someone's got to find out where he is..."

Snape was gazing at him in his usual expression, but he looked a bit more concerned than he is used to.

"Bring him to the headmaster. I will wake up Professor McGonagall," said Snape seriously.

 After explaining and yelling at Dumbledore, he was brought to Sirius's house. And after everything horrible that happened tonight, he was terribly guilty of not saying goodbye to Draco.

Chapter Text

“How was your Christmas?”

Harry jumped at the sudden voice. Draco stood in front of him; he almost looked taller than two weeks ago. 

Harry half smiled. “It was nice.”

He got presents from the Weasleys and Sirius. A beautiful jumper that Harry was currently wearing and a two-way mirror. He could not wait to use it and talk to Sirius every night.

Draco took the opposite seat. Harry grimaced. 

“I’m sorry.”

Draco frowned.

“For what happened.” Harry paused. “That night.”

“And what are you apologising for?”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want any of you to see this.” 

Draco stared at him with his silver eyes gleaming in the dark of the compartment. The weather was terrible today; Harry entered the train with drenched jeans and hair that he quickly dried up once seated.

“Harry,” started Draco, immediately catching the attention of Harry. “How are you?”

His eyes widened. “That’s not what I—”

Draco took a deep sigh and turned to watch the landscapes through the window. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

Harry frowned. 

Regulus gently hit his forehead. “He’s trying to tell you to stop apologising, you idiot!” 

Harry cleared his throat. “You told me, multiple times.”

Draco snorted. He was tracing the drops of rain on the windows with his delicate finger. “Then, the message clearly did not reach your ears.”

Harry chuckled. 

After a conversation revolving around Draco’s gifts and Quidditch, Harry decided to tell him about the connection.

“Occlumency? From Snape!?”

Harry pursed his lips and slowly nodded. “Snape, yes.”

“You and the Dark Lords have a…” Draco looked pale. “So you see what he’s thinking right now?”

Harry shook his head. “Only sometimes, like last time with Ron’s father.”

“You saved him.”

“No,” hurried Harry. “The Aurors did.”

“Why are you so humble?” Draco rolled his eyes. “Talking about Snape, I still think you should tell him about Umbridge.”

Harry groaned. “It’s healed; why would I tell him?”

“Because—”

“Harry.”

They both turned at the sound of the voice; it was Hermione. 

She looked between the two boys. “We finished our meeting, so I figured we could…”

Draco smiled, or tried to. It did not look very sincere from Harry's point of view. “Have a seat, Granger.”

Hermione swallowed and glanced at Harry, who shrugged. She sat next to Harry.

“Malfoy.”

“Granger.”

Then, Harry, who thought the compartment would set on fire by the following minute, was left in shock.

Draco offered his hand.

Hermione, as shocked as Harry was, silently shook it. 

“I’m sure we have a lot in common, Granger.”

Hermione gaped at him. “...Sure!”

Harry blinked, wondering if he were hallucinating. 

“Where—” He cleared his throat again. “Where’s Ron?”

Draco snorted. “He’s over there,” he said, waving his wand. The door swung open; Ron was there, looking as shocked as his two best friends.

“Malfoy!”

“Weasel!”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call me like that.”

Draco looked at Harry, who raised one of his eyebrows. 

“Don’t you like that nickname?” He then turned to Harry. “It sounds cute, isn’t it?”

Harry had a hard time suppressing his laugh.

“Harry!” Ron sat at his right; the three of them were facing Draco. “How can you be friends with him?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Friend?”

There was a silence. 

“Well, I guess now we could say that.” 

Draco ran a hand through his beautiful blond hair. “I guess so.” His cheeks were slightly pink, probably from the cold weather.

Ron was about to say something, but Draco cut him off. “I want to apologise to the two of you.”

Ron scoffed while Harry elbowed him.

That time, Draco looked sincere. “I’ve been awful to you. Especially you,” he said, looking at Hermione, whose eyes widened. Harry could see them shining. 

“I think you’re the greatest witch of Hogwarts. And your blood doesn’t matter. I was just jealous, and even if that’s not an excuse, I’m sorry.”

All three were watching Hermione biting her lip anxiously. 

“I don’t think you’re bad, Draco.” His eyes slightly widened. 

Ron cleared his throat, bringing all of their attention to him. 

“What about me?”

Draco smiled—that same hypocritical smile as later.

“I apologise to your family. I shouldn’t have mocked them.”

Ron glared at him.
“You son of a…”

“Still like his father!” Ron exclaimed once they were out of the train. Draco spent the entirety of the journey watching them in silence, and that pissed Ron off. 

Harry rolled his eyes, ignoring him. “Hermione, what do you think?”

“He seemed to really have changed,” she said. “Our conversation about the SPEW surprised me.”

Harry smiled. A warm feeling seized his heart.

“Surprised you? Mione, he was flirting!”

Harry’s head snapped to Ron. “What? No!”

“Of course you two are too stupid to see it—” 

“Just because we have an emotionally intelligent conversation doesn’t mean he’s trying to flirt with me!” Hermione snapped, offended.

Ron walked away, leaving them both in front of the entrance hall. 

Hermione sighed. “Boys.”

Harry smiled. “Boys…”

Chapter Text

The Slytherins had been busy that morning. The ‘Salazar Army’—as they liked to call themselves—had a meeting, and Harry was warmly welcomed by his fellow students and now-friends.

They mostly duelled during the meetings with the spells they learnt, of course. They were not so different from the Gryffindors, even if they would never admit it.

Harry had a crazy idea come into his mind. What if they studied all together? Harry was exhausted of organising different meetings at the same time, even though he liked it. On top of that, it would also be a great exchange. 

“I’m glad he went back,” said Blaise, glaring at a painting of a snake. “He was freaking me out.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “He was cute.”

Due to the short length of the spell—to Blaise and Draco’s joy—Blasil went back to his painting.

Theo walked up to them.

“Our Dark Wizard seems to feel better today,” he said, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips. 

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“We should make a ritual, all of us,” added Theo.

“There is no way,” Harry replied. 

Blaise raised his eyebrow. “You surely don’t do it alone.”

Theo’s eyes brighten. “Is it Draco?”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Blaise started. “You would lose your energy and magic if you were to do it alone, so—who is the lucky one?”

“I didn’t know about that.”

The two of them looked at him gaping. 

“How are you—”

Draco then joined the interesting conversation.

“Maybe he’s a great dark wizard and doesn’t need anyone to—”

“Ghosts,” Harry replied. “I do it with the ghosts.”

Their jaws dropped. 

“You’re a necromancer?!”

Harry winced. “More like a medium.”

“Still!” Draco continued. “That’s highly impressive.”

“Anyway.” Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m going out,” he said before leaving.

But Draco followed him. 

He was acting rather strange since the winter holidays, but Harry did not mention it to his friends.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked, his pace accelerating as Harry walked out of the common room. 

“At Madam Puddifoot’s,” he casually replied.

Draco’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

Harry tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

A grin formed on Draco’s face. “Harry Potter has a girlfriend!”

Harry froze; his cheeks reddened. 

“What the hell—No! Of course I don’t!” he stuttered.

Draco raised his eyebrow, hands in his trouser’s pockets. “Sure.”

He continued like that until they reached Hogsmeade.

“Please.”

“No!”

“Come on, Harry, tell me who—”

“No!”

“Why are you hiding her?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend!”

Draco sighed. “Who goes to Madam Pudifoots with their friends?”

Harry stopped to glare at him. “Me.”

“Hi Harry!”

They both turned around.

“Hello, Luna,” greeted Regulus.

Draco froze. 

“Lovegood?”

Luna smiled. “Hello, Draco Malfoy.” She looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Is he joining us?” 

“Can I?”

Harry internally screamed.

“Sure,” said Luna, who grabbed both boys by the arms.

Draco looked like he would die from embarrassment, but maybe that was a good thing.

“Nice to meet you, Draco. You are nicer than in my memories.”

Regulus snorted. “Was he that terrible?”

Luna and Harry looked at him, which left Draco with an uneasy feeling.

“What are you looking at?”

Harry sarcastically smiled. “A ghost,” he said while Draco looked at him with horror. 

Luna let out a soft chuckle. “I can see them too.”

Draco swallowed. “Alright…”

Luna took a sip of the tea before adding, “I brought my tarot deck with me.”

Draco eased off a bit. “Tarot?”

She then grabbed a deck of cards from her handbag. The cards looked as colourful as her. 

“Let’s do it,” she said while spreading the cards onto the table. The two boys were facing her with fascination. 

“Can you tell my future with that?” asked Draco.

“Of course, Draco,” she replied gently, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “But don’t expect much; I’m only a beginner.”

She then closed her eyes, putting her two hands over the cards until three of them started shaking. 

Draco looked at her with excitement; Harry smiled at the sight. It was strangely cute.

The three cards were still shaking but were now levitating towards Draco. Then, they fell onto their backs, in front of him.

The ten of swords, the tower, the death.

“Death?!” He looked highly offended.

Harry sighed, knowing there could be a hundred other meanings. “Calm down; it doesn’t mean that you’re gonna die.”

“Exactly,” reassured Luna. “It can also mean that there will be a big change in your life.”

Draco cleared his throat. Harry hoped his nosy ass would regret following him.

“What about the others?” he asked, looking at the ten of swords.

Luna pursed her lips in silence.

“Failure.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Nonsense! I’ve never believed in those,” he spat with a frown on his face. “Come on, Harry.” He stood up and grabbed his arm, but Harry ignored him.

“You can leave us; you won’t be missed.”

Regulus suppressed a snort. 

Draco glared at him and grabbed his coat before leaving Madam Puddifoot's.

“So,” Harry started, turning back to Luna. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Luna nodded. “You can ask me anything, Harry.”

He smiled at her. 

“What do you know about shadow people?”

Regulus, who sat next to Luna, looked rather offended. “Couldn’t you ask me that?”

Luna gently patted his shoulder, getting funny glances from the couple next to them.

“Muffliato,” Harry whispered.

“Shadow people are spirits who feed on our bad energies,” she replied and looked around. “There are many around us right now.”

Regulus snorted. “Of course, with all those couples.”

“Why this question, Harry?”

“I think I saw one of them.” 

Regulus seemed curious. “During our ritual?”

“After,” he clarified.

“Maybe,” Luna started. “It’s because you’ve opened your third eye. It’s only the beginning, Harry.”

“Are they friendly?”

Luna grimaced. “Yours is rather…”

Harry raised his eyebrow. “Mine.”

“Well,” Regulus started. “We all have negative energies, right?” Luna nodded. “So each of us—of you—naturally has at least one. But you…”

“You have a lot,” Luna continued.

Harry’s eyes widened. He was not feeling good; maybe he should have stayed with Draco.

“What can I do?”

Luna took his hand. “Let me show you.”

Harry felt a tingling sensation in the middle of his forehead. Nothing much changed. The atrocious decoration of the shop was still there, Regulus too, but…

“Bloody hell.”

Behind him, a crowd of black shadows was standing. Each of them was whispering things he could not make out.

One of them approached and grabbed his shoulder.

“The boy who lived…”

“Die,” another one said.

“Draco Malfoy.”

Harry looked at Luna; only one of them was next to her.

“Weirdo,” Harry heard. Luna blushed and looked down to her lap.

Harry could not help but feel bad for his friend.

“Do you hear that all the time?” he asked loudly, not even hearing himself.

She half smiled. “I’m used to it.”

“Maybe we can find something to shut them off.”

“Harry—”

“Luna, listen to me. I want to help you.”

“There is nothing you can do.”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Actually, there is one ritual...”

“Harry!”

He and Luna were under the invisibility cloak. Harry was dragging her to the forbidden forest.

“I’ve never done such a thing…” she said, not really sure of herself.

Harry removed the cloak once they were far enough from the castle.

He smiled. “Reg?”

The ghost appeared in front of them, holding some candles.

“Let’s try to not burn the entire forest.”

Harry snorted.

The three of them sat on the wet ground. 

Harry grabbed Luna’s hand. 

“Are you ready?”

Regulus lit up three white candles and sprinkled salt in a circle. Luna smiled. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Regulus sighed. “You can’t do that alone.”

Luna’s grip tightened. “Thank you, boys.”

The voices started; Harry was impressed by Luna’s ability to ignore them. The brouhaha made his ears ring.

The one next to Luna smiled to his ears. His white teeth were in contrast with the rest of the shadow; it was freaking him out.

“Lunatic stupid girl.”

“With crazy stupid boy,” one besides Harry said.

He swallowed; his energy declined.

“Regulus,” Harry called. “Will you tell the incantation?”

He grabbed Harry’s and Luna’s hands. “Anything for my Luna.”

Their lips trembled from the cold. Sitting on the ground was not helping; it was rather uncomfortable, but they did not want to get caught.

“Ra zeuio ar skeudoù…”

“...da vezañ ur vammenn sklerijenn.”

The air around them switched as the voices gradually faded. 

“...paouez da gomz!”

His stomach filled with warmth as his ears stopped ringing. Luna loosened his grip.

“How are you, my love?”

The shadows still looked as creepy, but their energies changed. 

Now they were whispering soft words like ‘love,’ ‘pretty,’ or… ‘chocolate.’. 

Harry snorted but quickly became concerned as Luna sniffed.

“Luna…?”

She let out a sob, and Harry looked at Regulus, who seemed as confused.

“Are you alright—”

“Thank you, Harry,” she said before throwing her arms around him.

Chapter Text

“I think I'm not qualified for that, you know,” Harry said, facing a blank wall.

“Maybe I should stop thinking about that and just live my life as I want. What do you think?”

The memory then slowly evaporated to another one, which left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. He became stiff at the sight of Cedric’s body.

“No…” It was harder to breathe; the air was too thick to pass through his throat. And suddenly, the body in front of him morphed into Snape.

“Control yourself, Potter.” Harry swallowed. How dare he.

The knot in his throat tightened. “That’s private.”

Snape snorted. “Not to the Dark Lord,” he said, then disappeared out of Harry's mind.
Harry gasped for air as he clutched onto the chair. Snape was standing before him with a somewhat curious expression.

“A dark wizard and schizophrenic.”

His first thought was Dumbledore. Snape would definitely tell him, and Harry did not want to lose his trust or, worse, get expelled. Hogwarts was his home, and even if he disagreed with Dumbledore and some of the teachers, he would never want to leave that place.

“None of your business,” was all he managed to say. Snape raised one of his eyebrows. Harry must have hit a nerve.

“Get out of my office.”

The cold feeling of water against his face made his thoughts and anxiety stop for a minute.

“That was close.”

“Close?” Harry scoffed. “He knows.”

Regulus grimaced. “He always was like that…”

Harry caught the sight of a terrified second year in the mirror. He snorted.

“Yes, Harry Potter is talking to himself. Go away.” The kid quickly left the bathroom without even washing his hands.

Regulus chuckled. “What's funny?”

“You're mad, Potter,” Regulus replied before spinning around Harry. “Maybe I'm not real.”

“Very funny,” he said before splattering his face with water once again to erase the doubts.

“What happened to your hand?” Harry froze. How long has he been watching?

“Ron.” He looked paler than usual, absolutely livid, as if he had seen the Basilisk. Harry took a look at his hand, the one Umbridge cursed with dark magic. The wound opened, and a concerning amount of blood leaked from it. Harry did not know how he did not notice that.
Draco would be the death of him.

Harry, who thought that he had successfully calmed himself, quickly panicked.

“Do you want me to get Hermione? Or go to the infirmary—”

“Draco.”

Ron blinked. “But—”

“Get him.” Ron ignored his bitter feelings towards the blond and left the bathroom without questioning Harry.

Draco seemed as surprised as Harry.

“Next time something like that happens, you can be sure I won't tell you a word about it.”

Draco grabbed Harry's hand. “Ouch!”

He stared at him with so much worry in his eyes, which was feeding Harry's anxiety.

“I don't know what happened,” he said, his voice cracking. “I'm sorry.”

“What were you doing before this?”

Harry grimaced. “Occlumency, with Snape,” he spat his name as if it was a disease.

Draco's eyes soften. “Maybe… a traumatic memory?” Harry swallowed.

“Cedric.”

Draco half smiled and gently patted Harry's shoulder.

“Dark magic feeds on your energy and bad feelings,” Draco said. “That's probably the reason.”

He then drew out his wand and waved it over the bleeding hand. “Vulnera Sanentur,” he repeated three times until the wound stopped bleeding. Draco brushed two of his fingers delicately over the closed wound.

“Ferula,” he then muttered, and bandages strapped Harry's hand.

“Thank you.” His voice was low, lacking energy. Draco was still holding his hand, which made Harry stop breathing at the realisation. His hand was soft and delicate. Heat filled up his body—it was so comfortable. Maybe that's what having a close family felt like. Harry could only imagine, but it felt familiar, as if meant to be. Draco stared at him with round eyes. Harry stared back, and Draco rapidly loosened his grip. Harry was almost disappointed.

The end of the year was slowly approaching. It was tough, and Harry still did not know how he went through it alive. And for that last DA—or Slytherin army—meeting, he wanted to do something memorable. They got so busy with their OWLs that it was almost impossible to find the perfect time to meet. Especially with Umbridge and her nosy minions. But he was not Harry Potter for nothing.

“Do you think they will kill me?”

Regulus, grinning from ear to ear, replied, “I'm sure they will appreciate it.”

Harry snorted, he might have made the task easier for Voldemort.

Once he reached the room, he took a big breath in and swung the door open with a wave of his wand. Swears were flying through the room until they finally noticed Harry, who was welcomed with silence. He cleared his throat.

“Good afternoon,” he said, almost mockingly. “We'll learn about Patronuses today.”

Fred and George glared at him. “You're kidding.”

“We'll kill you, Potter.”

“I might want to join,” added Ron, furious.

The Slytherins did not seem as mad as he thought they would be. But the DA… All of them glared at him—except Luna and Hermione. He knew how to make an entrance.

“If I, Harry Potter—enemy of Voldemort and Death Eaters—live in peace with the Slytherins, I'm sure you all can.” He hated using his name to get things out of it, but they surely would thank him later.

Hermione smiled. “Patronuses you said.”

Pansy gave her a curious look. “Is it true,” she started, facing Harry, “that you can produce a corporeal Patronus?” Harry felt his cheeks heating up and looked at Draco, who gave him an encouraging smile. The tension slowly eased as they dove deeper into the conversation.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It is true.”

“May I ask, what is it?” They all silently stared at Luna with curiosity behind their hatred.

“It's a stag,” Harry replied. Some gasped, which made Harry blush from embarrassment.

“I've heard they could change over time; is that true?” asked Pansy.

“I haven't experienced that…”

“It's true,” hurried Hermione. “I've read about it.” Her cheeks reddened when Pansy stared back. “It can change depending on the memory you're using.”

Pansy nodded. “Interesting. Granger, what do you know about—”

“Now.” Harry clasped his hands together, catching the attention of everyone. “Find the happiest memory of your life and start practicing the spell verbally.”

They all scattered around the room, except Ron, who stood before Harry. “Your hand,” he whispered not so discreetly. “Is it better? What happened?”

Harry winced. “It's nothing.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Stop lying.”

Harry pursed his lips together. “It's really not that serious."

“Is it Umbridge?”

Harry froze. How could he know?

“I've seen it,” he said. “She made students write with their blood—even first years.”

“First years!?” Harry exclaimed, his stomach twitching at the thought. The woman was not only after him but also children and everyone who supported Dumbledore's ideology.

Ron's eyes lit up. “We need to do something about her.”

Harry sighed. “I fear there isn't much…”

Some already successfully performed the spell, brightening the room with all sorts of animals. They quickly managed to get along. Ron was talking about Quidditch with Theo and Blaise as Ginny, Hermione, and Pansy were talking about soul ties. Harry could not stop grinning. Maybe he could become a great teacher in the future. He had to reconsider his path of becoming an auror. Seeing all of his friends successfully producing a Patronus, thanks to his instructions, fulfilled him.
And then, there was Draco. He looked at Harry, disappointed.

“I tried to think about my mom, but…”

Harry gently brushed his shoulder with his hand. “Try with a memory of your friends, maybe.”

Draco closed his eyes for a few seconds, then sighed. He frowned.

“I don't know if I have one, Harry…”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I'm sure you have one! Think about the time you spent with Blaise or Pansy—” Then, Draco’s cheeks reddened.

“Maybe.”

“Concentrate,” Harry said while putting his hand over Draco's shoulder. The blond took a deep breath, and some spark emitted from the hawthorn wand.

“That's it!” Harry yelled with encouragement.

“You're almost there!”
They drew the attention of everyone in the room. A full-sized lion escaped from his wand, showing off his sharp teeth, making everyone gasp.

Draco froze. “A…lion…”

Harry smirked; it was clearly unexpected.

Blaise arched one of his eyebrows. “Really, Draco?”

“Shut up…” he said, clasping a hand over his face. “What did I do wrong…”

Harry chuckled as he gently patted his shoulder. “It's alright; the animal is not what counts.”

Draco groaned and buried his face into Harry's shoulder. To his surprise, he did not back out.

“It can change over time, right?” Harry snorted. Draco looked up, and Harry was hit with a sharp feeling through his body.

Draco was not there anymore. The room disappeared too; he was going mad.
Or maybe…
The door finally opened. Harry was surrounded by some kind of crystal balls, and the strangest thing only occurred to him now. Sirius was in front of him, begging and suffering while clutching one of the crystal balls. A knot tightened in Harry's throat as he heard Voldemort's voice.

“No!” he yelled but could not be heard.

“Sirius!”

“Sirius!” he cried.

“Harry!”

The vision abruptly stopped, and Harry found himself on the floor, arms tightly wrapped around him. Draco's face was the first thing he noticed, and he reached for it, making sure he was real. His fingers tightened around Draco's jaw, as if he were grasping for life and reality.

“Sirius.”

Draco stared at him with round eyes.

“What happened?” Hermione kneeled next to him.

“Harry?” she called in a gentle voice.

“I got a vision,” he said, still looking at Draco, panting. “Voldemort got Sirius.”
Ron and Hermione shared a worried look.

“Are you sure he's not making that up?” asked Hermione.

Harry loosened his grip on Draco and tried to stand up.

“There is only one way to know.”

“This place is…” Ron trailed off.

“Interesting,” replied Hermione.
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco went to the Slytherin dormitory—some gave them funny looks as the Gryffindors stepped inside the common room.

Fred, George, Blaise, and Theo were currently taking care of Umbridge, who noticed them as they left the Room of Requirement. They were using fireworks, apparently. Harry would always remember the sound of Umbridge screaming for help after them. Regulus and Luna were trying to find a way to tell Dumbledore. Harry had left Regulus without saying a word, but he would understand, right?
Harry searched into his trunk and grabbed a mirror.

“I don't know if it works.” He had not used it yet, which made him anxious at the thought.

“Sirius,” he called.
The other mirror was in the kitchen. Harry could recognise the walls.

“Sirius!” he tried again. The silence was broken when he finally appeared.

“Sirius!” Everyone let out their worry.

“What happened? Why are you all—” His eyes lingered on the blond one. “Hey—is that Draco Malfoy?”

“Hello,” Draco said, almost mockingly.
Sirius looked at Harry, waiting for an answer.

“I got a vision of you and Voldemort,” he said, catching Sirius’ attention. “You were surrounded by some kind of crystal balls and—”

“Crystal balls, you say?” Sirius asked with a hint of seriousness in his voice.

“Yes,” Harry replied. “And there was one with my name, but—”

“We need to go.”

“Sirius!” exclaimed Hermione. “It's not real!”

Sirius hummed.

“It's your prophecy, Harry.”

His eyes widened. “My what?”

“Stay here,” he warned. “I'm going to call the rest of the Order.”

And that's how the four of them ended up in the Slytherin dormitory with nothing to do but wait. Harry had never felt so anxious before. Two hours passed in silence until there was a knock at the door.
Harry jumped to his feet to hastily open the door.

Dumbledore was there, with Regulus behind him. Harry could cry of relief.

“Harry,” the old man said gravely. “We need to talk, in my office.”

He then turned to Draco. “Draco, you too.”

Before Ron and Hermione could protest, Dumbledore said, “You may return to the Gryffindor common room.”

“But—”

Dumbledore gave them a smile. “I'm sure you will understand.”

Harry's stomach twisted. Did they catch Voldemort? And why was Draco with him and not his best friends? Regulus looked like he knew something, but Harry could not talk to him in front of Dumbledore, so he refrained from doing so.

“Draco, my boy.”

Draco swallowed, Harry knew how much he hated Dumbledore. Harry could understand why.

“As we speak, your father is in Azkaban.”

Draco's eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“He has been seen at the Ministry along with Voldemort. Naturally…”
Draco rose to his feet. His face was paler than usual, looking like he was about to cry.

“Please, Draco…” The boy shook his head before sitting down again.

Lucius had been caught; Harry could not lie and say he liked the man, but for Draco, he was his father. Harry could not imagine how he felt.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Harry, promise me you won't get mad at yourself.”

A lump formed in his throat. Harry was scared, and Draco's tears were not helping him in the slightest. Maybe it was a bad idea to listen to Sirius. He knew he should have gone with him.

“Sirius also has been caught.”

His heart sank. That was impossible.

“He's also going to Azkaban.”

“No,” was all Harry managed to say before the tears fell from his eyes.

"We had been careless,” Dumbledore clarified. “When Cornelius saw him, he immediately tried to explain himself, but you know him. He wouldn't believe your godfather.”

“Then do something!” Harry yelled out of rage. He would not be keeping it inside.

“You're stronger than him! Why can't you explain it?”

“Harry, we're trying—”

“It's not enough!” A sob escaped from his throat.

Sirius.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand, brushing his finger against it. Harry liked that warm feeling but…

He rose to his feet and turned his heels toward the door before storming out of the office.

Draco followed him; Harry could hear his shoes against the floor. And before he could tell him to go, Draco threw his arms at him. Harry could not help but letting out all of his tears against Draco's shoulder. The only family he had left, Sirius returned to Azkaban. What was the point of living if each of his loved ones would disappear? He cried harder; both were crying against each other. Harry tightened his grip around Draco's waist. Draco let out a choked sound.

“Harry…”

“Draco.”

Chapter Text

Sobs echoed through an empty room. Harry tried to open his eyes, but they were covered, preventing him from watching the scene unfold before him; he could only rely on his ears. The boy continued crying, and Harry stood up, trying to remove the blindfold from his eyes, but in vain. These sobs sounded so painful that Harry wanted to stop them.
The cries became louder; Harry had to help him. He started walking, his hands before him to avoid bumping into anything. The sobs became clearer as he walked, and suddenly, there was an icy, terrifying—yet familiar—snicker.
Harry woke up in a jolt, panting as he realised it was just a dream. He looked at his t-shirt, drenched in sweat. It must have been around three in the morning, so Harry decided it was best to ignore it and go back to sleep.

“I still cannot believe that you used to sleep here.”

Regulus stared a the bed under the stairs while Harry grabbed the blanket; it was way too cold in his bedroom.

“How can they be so cruel?”

Harry shrugged it off.
Sometimes, it was better not to know.

Back in his room, Hedwig greeted him with a stack of letters. He petted her gently before taking them; they were from Hermione, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Theo, Pansy, and even Daphne!
Harry frowned, looking at the floor; he must have dropped one.
After looking, he realised that no, he did not get anything from Draco. Harry wrote to him a few times, but it seemed that he had been talking to a wall this entire time.

Harry understood, it was hard for him too. Sirius was locked up in some dirty cell with no way of communication. Harry's heart ached at the thought. He could not lie and say that he was also sad for Lucius Malfoy, but he was Draco's father nonetheless. Because of him, the Malfoy family's reputation had gone under the ground. Harry read each article about them in the Daily Prophet, which was no sane he knew, but he had to get some information from somewhere.

Harry collapsed onto his bed, scolding himself for doing so as the mattress was as hard as a rock.
Regulus sat with legs crossed in the air, floating. “Something's on your mind?”

Harry sighed. “Do you think Sirius is alright?” he asked, wanting to avoid talking about Draco.

Regulus grimaced. “Well, I won't lie to you, it's Azkaban...”

Then, Harry's mind lit up at the sudden idea. “Would it be possible for you to check on him?”

Regulus frowned. “I...I didn't think about that.”

There was a hint of hope in Harry's eyes. “Can you?”

Regulus looked rather uncomfortable. “Well, yes, but, I would have to show myself to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“To talk to him, he will have to see me, and I'm not sure—“

Harry stared at him in awe. “You could do that?!”

“Well, you can see and hear me because you summoned me. Not everyone can do that, and it falls into the dark arts so not anyone is willing to do that. Sirius used to be into dark magic, when he was younger, but not as much as me. He always had been open.”

“Yes, he was the one who showed me your room” Harry said, remembering that summer day when everything changed. “He kind of pushed me into it. But I'm glad he did.”

Regulus hummed. “Anyway, he can hear me if my, er...” he hesitated, then continued in a whisper, embarrassed, “Master—“

Harry burst out laughing. “Master? Me!?”

Regulus glared at him. “If you are willing him to see me, he can see me.”

“How does that even work?”

“It's like the house elves,” Regulus started, swallowing as he realised the comparison. “Think of it as an invisible magical pact.”

“Interesting,” Harry muttered; he had been attending Hogwarts for five years, yet, he had so much to discover about magic.

Regulus grunted. “Yeah...Let's talk about it another time, alright?”

Harry nodded.

A few minutes later, he decided to read the letters his friends sent—still disappointed that Draco had not sent him any.

'Hey Harry!

My parents and I didn't go anywhere yet, but I'm going to the Burrow soon! I'm excited! But it's a shame that you can't join us. In Diagon Alley, you should check out Fred and George's shop. Ginny told me that it was a success! I cannot wait to see that myself.

Warmly,

Hermione.'

Ron only sent him a picture of him in—what supposed Harry was—Fred and George's joke shop. He was standing in an alley, his thumb up and a Pygmy Puff on his shoulder. As the picture moved, the small animal bit his ear, which made Harry laugh.

“They look like they're having a good time,” Regulus suddenly spoke when he finished reading everything, which startled Harry. He had been reading over his shoulder the entire time.

He sighed, he should be happy to get some news from his friends, but it left a bitter taste at the back of his throat.

The Durlseys left, which meant that Harry could have the house all to himself. He played the radio loudly, while trying to bake something, all of that in pyjamas that were far too large for him.

No magic outside of Hogwarts, he knew that too well, so he did as he used to before; use his hands and brain. The old muggle way!

“Do you remember what's in a chocolate cake?”

Regulus looked at him, blankly.

Harry sighed. “Of course, I forgot you were a spoiled pureblood kid. I'm sure Kreatcher made everything for you, am I right?”

Regulus sneered. “Sure he did.”

Harry often cooked for the Dursleys before, but his aunt preferred to bake by herself. Obviously, he never had a taste of it, but he could still remember the scent of her cakes...

Harry climbed on a stool to get a better view of the cupboards.

“Cocoa powder, wheat...” he muttered to himself as he grabbed the ingredients. “Should I use a chocolate tablet too?”

Regulus shrugged. “I don't even know why you're asking me.”

All the tools and ingredients were on the kitchen counter. Harry stared at them, wondering whether Aunt Petunia would notice the few missing ingredients.

As he blended the eggs with the wheat, he noticed that he had made a mistake and had forgotten to add the cocoa powder.

The moment he opened the lid, a chocolate cloud burst out, dusting his hair, face and t-shirt. He coughed as the chocolate clouds evaporated in the air.

“Shit,” he said.

Regulus snorted. “You understand why I never cooked.”

As Harry tried to shake off the powder from his clothes, knocks echoed through the room.

He looked at Regulus, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Who...”

He made his way towards the door, thinking that it was only a neighbour.

As he showed himself, he started, “Sorry, they're not—“

Draco Malfoy was standing there, wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of black trousers. He ran a hand through his blond hair, as if everything were normal.

“Hey.”

Chapter Text

Harry was gaping, and an awkward silence set between them. The cocoa powder clung to his cheeks and Draco must have noticed, because he started chuckling.

“Am I interrupting?”

Harry shook himself. “What?”

Draco gestured from his t-shirt to his hair. “You look like a mess.”

Harry ignored him, and said, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Are you not happy to see me?”

“I—How did you even know where—”

“Weasley told me,” he replied, shrugging. “Can I enter?”

Harry glanced around. The Dursley should be home in a few hours or so...

He opened the door wider. “Sure,” he managed to say.

Draco looked around, almost disgusted. “Those Muggles have no taste...”

Harry frowned, ignoring him again. “So you tell me that you didn't write to me for a month, but you wrote to Ron to know where I was staying?”

Draco shook his head. “No, Harry, you don't understand—“

Harry crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“Sorry, I have been busy,” he said as his eyes wandered to Harry's face. Harry felt himself blush.

“Busy?”

Draco looked back and forth between Harry and the kitchen. “Have you been baking?” he asked, surprise crossing his face.

Harry turned around, looking at his mess. There was batter and flour all over the workshop. “Er—kind of.”

Draco chuckled and brought his thumb over Harry's cheek. Harry stood there in silence, eyes widening as Draco's finger gently brushed against his skin. Draco, then, put his thumb against his lips and licked it. Harry felt his stomach twisting.

“Chocolate,” Draco said while staring into Harry's emerald eyes.

Harry slowly nodded and looked at Draco, from head to toe. Something was quite different about his friend, but he could not put his finger on it.

“You look...taller,” he finally said, justifying the staring.

Draco snorted. “Really, Potter?”

Harry shrugged and grabbed the whisk. “I have to finish that cake before they come back.”

Draco took a chair next to him, not bothering to help.

“You don't like them, do you?”

Harry shook his head, he did not want to talk to him about them.

“Did you even see your friends?” Harry shook his head again. “Not even Granger!?”

Harry poured the batter into a rectangular cake pan. “No, I didn't see anyone.”

“I'm still wondering how you haven't turned mad yet.”

“Well,” Harry opened the oven and continued, “When people are counting on you, you don't really have a choice.”

Draco swallowed and shifted uneasily in his seat. “I—I guess so...”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, sensing there was something else behind those words, but did not push further.

“So, what did you do during the holidays?”

Draco pursed his lips, his gaze flickering between Harry and the kitchen counter.

“Nothing much, really,” he said, fidgeting with his wand. “What about you?”

“Nothing, really?” Harry asked, dubious, as Draco avoided his gaze.

Draco shrugged. “Really”, he replied, dryly.

Harry narrowed his eyes; hesitating, he spoke, “Are you sure you're alright?”

Draco pressed his lips together, seeming to prevent himself from saying a mistake.
Harry, knowing he would not get any answer, glanced at Regulus.

He got an idea, and maybe it would make Draco talk.

The two were from the same family—the Blacks—so it would be interesting to see them talking together. They both had similar personalities, and if Regulus could get along with Luna, he could get along with anyone.

“Would you like me to introduce you to a friend?” he blurted out, completely changing the subject.

Draco frowned, slightly taken aback. “What? But you said—“ Draco's eyes fell upon Regulus. He suddenly yelled and lost his balance, falling on the floor and taking the chair with him.

“What the fuck, Harry!?”

Harry and Regulus burst out laughing. “Don't be so scared!”

Draco immediately stood up, the frown not leaving his face. “Is that... Is that a ghost!?”

Regulus smirked. “I am.”

“He... He can talk.”

Regulus raised one of his eyebrows. “Of course I can, who do you take me for? Ghosts aren't mute.”

He shifted his gaze towards Harry, looking at him with round eyes. “How?”

Harry put the chair back in place. “It's quite a long story...”

“Go ahead.”

Harry scratched the back of his head and glanced in the direction of the oven, watching the cake carefully.

“I was staying at my Godfather's house and he showed me his brother's room, Regulus Black—“

Draco gasped. “Regulus Black!? Like my mother?”

“We are related, little Malfoy,” Regulus said before spiralling around the kitchen's light.

Draco huffed. “So that means, he was with you at Hogwarts? With us!?”

Harry pursed his lips as Regulus chuckled.

“Yeah.”

Draco looked horrified. “Potter! That's voyeurism!”

“What—No!”

Regulus looked offended. “Don't you think I have better to do than watch teenagers wanking?”

Harry choked on air. That was one way to put it.

Draco's cheeks turned pink and he started stuttering. “That's not—I didn't mean that...”

“At Hogwarts, I mostly stay with Harry or wander around,” Regulus finally said. “But I tend to avoid the castle's ghosts; Peeves caught me once. It was terrible.”

Harry tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.

Draco seemed to relax a bit. He opened his mouth before closing it again; the poor boy was confused.

“I have so many questions.”

Regulus snorted. “It's a pleasure, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

“Uh?” Draco glanced at Harry who could hear what he thought behind those eyes. 

“So, er,” he hesitated, still stricken by the strangeness of the situation. Draco turned to Harry. “Did he appear during a ritual?”

Harry grimaced, not knowing how to explain all of this. “I read some sort of... incantation—he made me do it, even though I didn't know it was him. I thought it was just a...” He could just not explain how careless he had been to read some random note in a library full of dark magic.

Regulus hovered over the table, where they were sitting.

“Harry's a medium, and I took advantage of his capacities to make myself seen.”

“And where were you, before all of that?” Draco suddenly asked, genuinely curious.

Draco caught him off guard because the ghost seemed to have lost his voice for a second.

“I,” he started, his voice low, almost in a whisper, “was stuck in the place where I...” He swallowed, his emotions kicking his insides. The two boys understood what he meant and did not push further, letting Regulus talk at his own pace.

“Somehow,” he continued, now staring at Harry. “You crossing my bedroom awoke something in me. It was just another day for me, but a light brought me to you, to my... home.” Harry noticed the hesitation at the use of the word. “Through this pale blue light, I heard your voice, and Sirius' too. I thought to myself, my moment had come; I was finally going to the afterlife. But no, I think the universe wanted me to find you, and you to find me. I still don't understand what happened that day, but one thing is sure; I'm free.”

There was a silence; Harry needed time to process all of this new information. Was it their destiny? He could not lie, that day changed him for the rest of his life. Without him, Harry would not be there, talking to Draco. Regulus also was considered a friend now, and he did not like to imagine any days without him.

Draco slowly nodded politely, before turning to Harry.

“You truly are a powerful dark wizard, Harry.”

Harry stared at him, startled. These words escaping Draco's mouth made him shiver.

“You could say that,” he replied with a hint of mockery.

“I'm serious,” Draco continued. “It's as if your magic is always working.” He glanced at Regulus who nodded. “It's quite impressive.”

Harry shrugged it off.

They moved on to another conversation, about quidditch this time.

Harry tried to focus on Draco's words, however, he could not help but feel there was something amiss about him. Almost as if he purposely hid his emotions under a mask.

Harry cut them two slices of chocolate cake, but Draco held up his hand.

Harry raised one of his eyebrows in confusion.

“I already ate,” Draco said, avoiding his gaze.

Harry pouted mockingly. “You don't wanna try it?”

Draco looked back at him and sighed. “Just a bite then.”

“It's been a while since I ate something like that,” Harry said, his mouth full of cake. “I usually buy a stack of snacks from Hogsmeade before coming here, but er,” he paused, his mind wandering to Sirius. He swallowed. “There were too many things on my mind.”

Draco's eyes narrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Don't they feed you here?”

Harry half smiled. “No, not really. Only when they're in a good mood,” he added with a chuckle, but that did not make Draco laugh at all.

“Don't look at me like that,” Harry finally said. “I'm alright.”

Draco frowned and then looked at Regulus. “Do you think that's normal?”

Regulus shook his head. “He doesn't want to hear it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It's not like I'm starving.”

Draco raised one of his eyebrows, looking at the empty plate before Harry. Harry really was alright, he almost got three meals a day. Stealing food from the Dursleys or the bin satisfied his hunger, and he was not a big eater regardless.

Draco pushed his own plate to Harry. “Take mine.”

Harry locked eyes on him, the reflection of his own self was flickering in them. Draco seemed to be almost pleading him.

“Draco?” he tried. “Are you alright?”

Draco's eyes widened, but before he could deny anything, the sound of keys against the front door made Harry jolt up.

“THEY'RE HERE!” yelled Regulus from outside before hurrying to them.

Harry grabbed Draco by the arm, took the cake with him, and ran to his bedroom.

“Harry?”

Harry did not reply and Draco was forced to follow. Harry tripped on a step, and Draco helped him steady himself.

“Thanks,” he said as they ran to the room, slamming the door open.

He threw Draco in there, before closing it. Downstairs, he could hear his aunt and uncle complaining about the air being too hot. Harry hoped he had not forgotten to turn off the oven. But good news; they did not notice anything!

He sighed in relief and turned to Draco who arched an eyebrow.

“Care to explain?”

Harry sighed again and collapsed on the bed.

“I can't invite anyone over.”

Draco reluctantly sat down on the bed before lying down next to Harry. Thanks to Draco's slender figure, they could fit. The bed was big enough for the two of them, but it was quite small nonetheless. The two stared at each other, panting. Draco's breath brushed against Harry's face, leaving him all flustered. Something was definitely wrong with him too.

“They seem to be tyrants.” Harry watched his lips quivering as he talked. “Does Dumbledore know?”

“Mh?” Harry shifted his gaze away from his lips to his grey eyes. “I... I think he does, actually.”

Draco huffed. “Well, that's another reason not to like this old man.”

Harry could not help but let out a chuckle. “No, it's not like that. It's because of some, blood protection.”

Draco hummed. After a moment, he added, “Still, that sucks. My mother took great care of me when I was younger, she didn't make me do any chores. It's not normal, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes: he knew that too well. “I know, but I don't have any choice left. Unless you invite me to your so-called Manor.”

Draco froze, and the pink of his cheeks faltered.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, sensing Draco was perturbed. “Draco?”

Draco looked shaken as if Harry just screamed at him.

“What is it?” Harry tried again.

“Nothing,” he finally replied, avoiding his gaze, preferring to stare at the wall. “It's just, you know, with my father in prison...”

Harry could feel it was a lie. Or at least, there was more to the story than he implied.

“You know you can tell me anything right?”

Draco silently nodded.

The door suddenly slammed open, making the two stop breathing.

“...Harry?”

Harry swallowed, the lump in his throat growing. He looked over Draco's shoulder, who did not dare move, trying to measure the gravity of the situation.

Dudley was standing, frozen on the threshold, his jaw almost hitting the floor. He shook his head before closing the door behind him.

Harry, sure he would quickly join Regulus in a few minutes, sat up and said, “Can't you knock, you twat!”

Dudley was stammering. “I... You forgot this,” he said, his voice low.

He threw the stack of letters Harry forgot in the living room, on the bed. A sigh of relief escaped from his mouth, wondering what would his uncle or aunt have done if they found it instead.

During this summer, Harry noticed some changes in Dudley's behaviour, he was similar to Draco in a sense; started being polite to him, acknowledging him whenever Harry entered a room—unlike his parents—and finally, he stopped bullying kids. They never had a full conversation before, but Harry was glad he grasped onto the tiny bit of humanity his family had.

Harry tossed the letter on his desk, next to the cake.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Harry could not help but notice Dudley glancing in Draco's direction, which made this one rather uncomfortable.

“And who is...?”

Harry cleared his throat, heat reaching his ears.

Dudley's eyes widened. “Oh.”

Harry immediately understood something Dudley should not have.

“It's not—he's a friend of mine!” he said, his voice too shaky to his taste.

Dudley half-smiled, uncomfortably. “Good, er—“ He gestured to the door. “Guess I'll...”

But the three of them froze when they heard someone climbing the stairs.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

“They're gonna kill you!”

Harry hurried to his trunk and grabbed the invisibility cloak, throwing it over Draco before he could even protest. Dudley's eyes widened in shock.

Aunt Petunia's sharp voice echoed through the hallway. “My darling, where are you? You forgot—“

She pushed the door, glared at Harry for a second and cleared her throat. “I'll put your book back onto your desk, alright?”

“OK, mum.”

“You,” she said, pointing her finger at Harry. “Tomorrow you will take care of the garden, remember?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

She left them and Dudley hurried to lock the door this time.

Harry, who had been holding his breath for the entire time, finally inhaled some air, feeling it thick against his nostrils.

Even after that, a question kept popping into his mind.

“You read?!”

Dudley chuckled. “Don't get your hopes too high, it's about mechanics.”

Draco tossed the cloak aside, chuckling. “I felt like a mistress hiding in a closet.”

The three burst out laughing.

A silence set upon them, Draco looking at Harry, Harry looking at Dudley.

“I will leave you two, it was nice to see you—er—friend of Harry,” he said, waving at Draco before slamming the door shut behind him. Harry locked it right away, not risking being caught by his aunt. They would throw him in a mental asylum if they saw him so close to a boy in his bed.

After a moment, Draco spoke, “Wow, they really think you're their slave.”

Harry shrugged. “I'm used to it.”

Draco sighed. “I think I should leave, mother will be worried.”

Harry half-smiled. “I think so too, but it was nice to see you.”

Draco hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers. “I would be reassured to know you somewhere else this summer...”

Harry scoffed. “Draco, don't worry about me!”

“But I do.”

Harry pursed his lips. Maybe he had an idea, but... He looked at his open trunk on the floor, the mirror peeking out.

“Should I just jump from the window?” Draco said, glancing at the window that once was replaced by bars.

Harry blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” Draco started. “I won't leave by the main entrance, I believe?”

Harry bit his lips. They really did not have any choices left.

Draco opened the window, looking at the ground. “That should do.”

“Wait!”

But before Harry could grab his arm, Draco jumped. Harry stood there, in shock. He knew that idiot just did not...

Then, he peeked out from the window frame and was relieved to see the blond head standing.

“You fucking...” he bit back.

Draco chuckled and waved at him. Harry sighed, putting his head in his hands before closing the window. He ran a hand through his hair, watching Regulus waving at Draco behind the window.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The sobs were painful to hear. Harry's eyes were covered, once again. He could not recognise the person behind the cries. A pain in the chest hit him; Harry screamed, harmonising with the sobs. His heart was being ripped apart from his body, and a hand dug into his skin, grasping it. Harry gasped. 

He woke up in a jolt, gasping for air. He reached for his glasses—good, he was in Regulus' room. This one looked at him curiously.

"Are you alright?"

Harry was panting. "Yes," he lied in a low voice, patting his chest.

Harry quickly pulled off his t-shirt, looking down at his upper body. There was nothing; his chest was perfectly normal.

He wiped off the sweat from his forehead and collapsed back onto the bed, hands clutching the blanket, his grip loosening as he slowly drifted off.

Harry tried to ignore it, to ignore the absence of answers from Draco, but he could not. The thought of something happening to him made him sick to his stomach. If it had been Ron, he would have been concerned as well, but Harry had every right to question the Malfoy family's behaviour. 

“Stop mopping around,” Remus said, putting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Harry.

Harry sighed, resting his elbows on the table. “I just—I don't understand him.”

“Maybe he doesn't want to be understood.”

Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. “But why?”

Remus patted his shoulder in a comforting way. “You will ask him later,” he started as he sat next to Harry, a cup of warm coffee between his hands. “I want you to focus on the present. Today you'll see Hermione and Ron, aren't you looking forward to it?”

Harry hummed before bringing the fork to his mouth. Unlike at the Dursleys, he was allowed to eat as much as he wanted here. Last time, they even baked cinnamon rolls! Harry never had it before, but Remus said that it was Sirius' favourite dessert and that they would bake it for their anniversary. Oh, how he missed Sirius.

As they stepped out of the floo, Harry felt eyes on him. Remus grabbed him by the shoulder. Usually, Harry would think that they were looking at him, but as the glances kept going, he noticed that they were watching Remus.

Remus swallowed uneasily, whispering, “I think I should leave you now...”

“Why?” Harry asked louder, his expression sharp as he glared at the nosy people.

“Well, with me being a werewolf and a...” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.”

Harry frowned, sensing something was off. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Remus brought him to a secluded corner. “Harry,” he started, looking around, making sure that no ears were listening. “It's the Daily Prophet, they wrote about...”

Harry raised one of his eyebrows, tilting his head. “About what? I didn't—Oh”

By the look of Remus, he quickly made the connection.

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Of course, they would! What a bunch of arse—“

“Language, Harry!” Remus hissed. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew that feeling too well; having his privacy shown to the world. But this was way worse. Not having grown up in the wizarding world, Harry lacked some knowledge, but he could guess that the homophobia was the same in both worlds; sadly, too much present.

“I don't know who told them,” Remus said, then pinched his lips together, “But I might have an idea,” he muttered.

After a moment, Harry broke the silence, “I'm not ashamed of walking with you Remus, if that's what you were trying to say.”

“I...” Remus quickly turned red and cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Harry!”

The two turned around and caught sight of Hermione and Ron. They threw their arms at him, their grip tight around his shoulders.

“We missed you,” said Ron, after a moment he added, “Mum too.”

Harry chuckled at this and returned the embrace, but Hermione pulled away, looking at Remus.

“And you, are you alright?” she asked.

Remus grinned at them. “I am, don't worry about me, Hermione.”

“Still that sucks,” added Ron. “They don't have the right to do that.” So they knew too, thought Harry who was glad they accepted it—not that he would ever doubt them. Harry did not want to know what had been written, and in respect for Sirius and Remus, he would never read it.

“That's dangerous!” Hermione said, her voice slightly cracking. “They're putting you in danger—“

Remus held out his hand and she immediately stopped talking.

“Don't worry, it's not my first time and surely, not the last.”

Hermione pursed her lips before turning her attention back to Harry. “We've got so much to do!”

They visited Fred and George's shop and it was amazing. Harry had never seen something like this before and was astonished to see it all come true. He was genuinely happy for the twins.

“I can't believe they still don't want to give me something for free!” Ron spat as they stepped out of the shop. “I mean, I'm their brother, right!?”

Hermione burst out laughing. “Come on! You gotta stop being like that—“

Their conversation quickly drowned in Harry's mind, the chatters around him echoed, as if he were underwater.

He caught sight of him.

But he was not so sure, he had to check it himself.

“Hey,” he said while starting to walk, he yelled above his shoulder, “I need new clothes!”

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, confused, but fastened her pace.

“New clothes?” asked Hermione.

“It's about time, innit?” Ron said mockingly. Hermione elbowed him, but her suspicions grew as they entered Madam Malkin's.

She snorted as Harry pretended to be looking at some shirts.

“What?” he replied innocently as he grabbed a few shirts.

She raised her eyebrows with a slightly smug look set upon her face. “'I need new clothes',” she immated him.

Harry felt himself blush in embarrassment. “Shut it.”

He looked at the back of the room, where he was. Draco stood on a stool next to his mother—and Madam Malkin who was taking his measurements—trying out some new robes.

“You grow up so fast,” his mother said softly, running a hand through his blonde locks.

Something invisible surrounded Draco, like a dark cloud about to burst. His face was sharper than the last time he had seen him. Harry took a few steps forward, hiding behind a mannequin's fancy dress; he could see him better now. Harry felt his stomach twitch. There was nothing but sorrow behind the grey eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Harry, startled, fell onto the mannequin, stumbling forward, catching everyone's attention in the shop—might as well be the whole street. Harry quickly stood up, apologising to Madam Malkin who quickly fixed his mess. He glared at Ron who looked confused.

But it was too late. Draco had an eyebrow raised, however, he stayed silent, not even acknowledging him.

“Oh! Malfoy!” Ron said, too loudly.

Hermione shushed him while Harry wanted to die from embarrassment.

Narcissa Malfoy offered them a half-smile, before turning her attention to Harry. “Harry Potter, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Harry returned her smile awkwardly.

“Draco told me about your friendship,” she started, her elegant manners making the trio feel like scum. “I find it quite funny that you two are finally friends.”

Harry looked at Draco who cleared his throat. “Mother.”

However, she continued, “In his first year, he wouldn't stop talking about you.”

“Mother,” Draco tried again, visibly more embarrassed. Harry let out a small chuckle.

“Is that so?”

Narcissa nodded, her hands brushing her son's shoulder. “I'm glad he's well surrounded, am I right, Draco?”

“Yes, mother.”

“So well surrounded that he doesn't dare reply to my letters,” Harry spat before he could even think. Hermione and Ron walked out the shop, it was only Draco, his mother and Harry—and Madam Malkin.

Narcissa raised one of her eyebrows confusingly at Draco who snorted.

“Well, we were busy this summer, weren't we?” Draco said, a bitter sneer tugging at his lips. Harry could sense the tension slowly building and began to regret what he said.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Draco,” she warned. “Stop it.”

Draco shook his head, before adding, “See you at school, Harry.”

“He was so weird, there is something wrong with him.”

“Harry!” Hermione hissed. “You can't follow him!”

“Hermione's right, mate. It's even more... weird.”

Harry stopped in his tracks. “Listen, he's my friend. I just wanna make sure he's alright.”

Hermione scoffed. “By following him!?”

Hermione and Ron were having a hard keeping up with him as he accelerated his pace. “Yes,” he replied casually.

When they reached Knockturn Alley, Harry threw the cloak over them. Draco looked behind them a few times, making sure he was not being followed. They stopped in front of Borgin and Burkes, where Harry had accidentally landed before his second year at Hogwarts.

“...Can you fix it?” Draco asked Borgin.

“I'm not sure, Mr Malfoy, I...”

Harry could not see well, the view was obstructed by a large cabinet and they were too busy eavesdroping. Draco seemed to be threatening him with something they could not see, an object perhaps.

“This one, keep it for me. It needs to be safe.”

Harry winced, he knew that Borgin was not a good person, but the way Draco was talking to him made him uneasy. His Draco was not like that.

After Draco left the shop Harry removed the cloak.

Hermione looked at him with a concerned, almost sad look.

“Don't you think he,” she hesitated, looking at Ron for help but he just looked away.

“He what, Hermione?”

“Maybe he became one of them?”

Harry froze. “You can't think that! What would Voldemort do with Draco?”

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Just... just forget it. Let's go get our books.”

Chapter Text

The sun was burning against their skins as they began walking. They purposely went to sit under the huge willow next to the lake, enjoying its shadow. Draco was wearing denim shorts and a pink polo, Harry was wearing similar clothes but his top was white, probably borrowed from the blond.

What was weird, was that Harry never lived that moment.

He walked to them. “Hello?”

No one of them answered, they continued their conversation.

“When I was very young—like a baby—my mum used to throw me into the lake...”

“Throw you!?”

“No!” Draco chuckled, a hand running through his hair. “Not like that, I meant—she watched me, obviously! What a terrible mother she would be. Imagine, I could have drowned! But no, she was next to me, it was to teach me how to swim.”

Harry looked at his other self. He did not seem younger or older, it was him, but slightly different. A difference that Harry could not quite make out.

“Can you now?”

“Swim? Yes, I can.”

Harry hesitated for a moment. “No one ever taught me,” he said thoughtfully. “I almost drowned one day when I went to the pool with school.”

Draco's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, there was one boy—Tobby—he took away my pool noodle...”

“Pool noodle?” Draco asked, puzzled.

Harry snorted. “Yeah, it's a muggle thing I guess? It's a piece of foam used for floating. It looks like a giant coloured noodle.”

Draco slowly nodded. “Interesting.” He looked over the lake. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“What?”

“Come on, Harry!” He stood up and made a sign for him to follow.

“But—“

Draco removed his top. “I won't take 'no' as an answer! Come on!”

Harry, who was watching the two boys undressing, felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry?”

The following morning, Harry woke up, almost forgetting he was at Hogwarts. He looked at the bed next to his—Draco's—it was empty and neatly made.

He was the only one still up.

Harry quickly, and messily, dressed up, and as he threw his bag over his shoulder, he heard a hiss.

“Isss everything alright, massster?”

Harry smiled at the snake. There was no sun behind him but a clear sky, the light reflecting on his scales.

“You ssseem disssconssserted.”

Harry approached him and shook his head. “I'm fine,” he said, before leaving for breakfast.

In The Great Hall, he noticed that most of the students were gone but his usual group was still there.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Theo said, throwing his arm over Harry's shoulder as he sat down.

Harry tried to catch Draco's gaze, but he seemed to be more interested in the wall behind Harry.

Pansy noticed that, and brushed his hand against Draco's. “Draco?”

Harry slowly put his fork aside. He suddenly did not feel hungry at all. As he continued watching Draco's hand, he got struck with nausea.

“I didn't sleep well,” Draco said, putting his hand away from Pansy's.

"We can tell," Theo said.

“It seems like Harry stole your beauty sleep,” Blaise said, winking at Harry.

Draco's eyes finally crossed his, and not a smirk, not a smile, but a sigh escaped his lips. Then, silent.

Harry cleared his throat and turned to Blaise. “Potions, is it?”

"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything..."

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention... Do not worry, my dear boy. You can use ingredients from the cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do."

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment, he emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at. Anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table.

Harry raised himself slightly in his seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it. With all the books from Regulus' room he read that summer, he got a decent level at potions now. Hermione raised her hand, but Harry was faster.

"It's Veritaserum, a potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Harry.

"Very good, very good! Five points to Slytherin!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known...Who can—"

Hermione's hand was faster this time.

"lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said. Harry too had recognised the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance.

"Excellent, excellent! Five points to Gryffindor. Now, this one here..." said Slughorn.

"It's Amortentia," Draco said before Harry and Hermione raised their hands, a look of defiance set upon his face.

"It is indeed," said Slughorn, his mouth slightly parted; he clearly had not expected Draco to answer."I assume you know what it does?"

Draco nodded but stayed silent.

“It's the most powerful love potion in the world. Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to imitate love. This will simply cause an obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room.” He looked over his class. “Do not underestimate the power of obsessive love.”

Slughorn continued, “Each person smells something different, according to their... attraction.”

The whole class took a step forward and sniffed the potion from the cauldron. Harry smelled the rain, wood and...

“Hair gel?”

Hermione raised one of her eyebrows in curiosity.

“What do you smell?” he asked her.

“That's personal,” she added with a mischievous grin before turning to Ron.

He looked at Malfoy, and to Harry's surprise, he already was looking at him, with a faint blush over his cheeks, but ended up looking away. It made Harry wonder what the hell was wrong with him. 

“Since when are you so good at potions?” Draco asked him with a hint of jealousy, at the end of the class.

Harry could not say that it was mainly because of his scribbled copy of Advanced Potion Making, no, instead, he proudly showed him the liquid chance. “I'm full of surprise.”

Draco clenched his jaw. “You cheated.”

Harry frowned and before Harry could reply, Blaise put a hand on Draco's shoulder. “Calm down, you have to accept that you can't stay the best.”

Draco huffed before yanking himself away from them.

Harry and Blaise looked at each other, confused.

“What's gotten into him?”

“That is not correct, Harry! You should return it to Slughorn—“

“I won't,” he replied, smirking, proud of his new book.

Hermione scoffed. “Harry!”

“'Mione, don't even think about returning it, he has gold between his hands!” Ron exclaimed.

Hermione stopped in her tracks.

“Ron! You two are—“ She huffed before accelerating her pace.

“She's just mad because you're better than her.”

Ron and Harry grinned at each other. Ron was right, there was no way he would return the book. Especially after today's results.

They sat all three together in the library in a secluded corner.

“What does Dumbledore want?”

Harry shrugged, looking at the Marauder's map slightly open on the table. It had been a few minutes that Draco was in the girl's lavatories and Harry was growing suspicious. Maybe Hermione was right after all, but the idea of Draco betraying him felt like a punch to the gut. He could not, there was something more to his strange behaviour.

“I don't know what these meetings will be about. I mean— Voldemort—certainly.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It could have been comforting, the sound of the waves hitting against the thick cobblestone walls, but the peaceful nature of the sea was broken by haunting shrieks. Slimy grey hands stretching against the bars, their nails as long as their fingers. The clattering sound it made could have woken him up, but it did not. 

Sirius awoke to the sound of a demented cackle. He groaned as he sat up, his filthy hands scrubbing his face. 

“Could you shut the fuck up? It’s morning!”

The cackle continued. Sirius grabbed his flat pillow and threw it to the other side of the cell. 

The cackling ceased, but his cellmate was still buried in the pages of the Daily Prophet.

“Listen to this—”

Sirius gritted his teeth. “Why would I listen to anything you have to say?"

“I think it might interest you.”

Sirius ignored him.

"Former Hogwarts professor and the infamous criminal Sirius Black shared a secret homosexual relationship during—"

Sirius threw himself at him and grabbed the blonde by his throat, digging his fingernails into his pale neck.

“I’m going to kill you, Malfoy!”

Lucius was choking, his face becoming redder as Sirius’ grip tightened.

“Stop… it…” he gurgled, struggling under his grip. 

“You did that?” Sirius asked while shaking him, his hands still on his throat. “YOU TOLD THEM?!” 

Raising his voice did not do anything, and it was not as if Lucius could really talk in that moment.

Lucius’s eyes widened as he looked behind Sirius in horror. “De… Dementor…”

Sirius immediately dropped him on the floor, and Lucius gasped for air, coughing. He backed away from the bars as the hand of a dementor stretched between them. Lucius crumbled to his bed.

“You will get us killed!” he said.

Sirius huffed. “Me? ME!?”

Lucius cursed under his breath as the hand almost touched him. 

“Yes, you!” he said once the dementor backed away to the next cell.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?” Lucius replied innocently.

Sirius tried not to roll his eyes. “The article."

Lucius smirked. “I have contacts.”

Sirius clenched his fists. “Severus told me—"

“Of course he did."

“—and I thought, why keep it to myself?”

Sirius started to laugh, which left Lucius puzzled.

A few minutes later, the dementor arrived with their lunch: soup and stale bread.

Lucius was not pleased in the slightest. The food repulsed him. But for Sirius, Azkaban was basically home now, so he stuffed his mouth with a piece of bread that he previously dipped in the soup to soften it.

Lucius was staring down at his trail.

“Are you going to eat that?” Sirius asked, pointing at the bread.

Lucius looked at him with a grimace set upon his face. 

“I take that as a no,” he said as he grabbed the bread.

Lucius did not say anything as he did so and took a sip of the soup, still grimacing.

As Sirius attempted to scrape the mouldy bits off his bread, he pondered. 

“Aren’t you afraid of being locked up with a fag, then?”

Lucius snorted and put his trail aside. What a princess.

“Fag or not, I would rather stay alone.”

Sirius raised his eyebrow. 

“I always knew you were strange. I guess that explains it all.”

Sirius was not sure why he was making conversation with Lucius. “Explains what?” 

Lucius scoffed. “Have you seen how you used to dress?”

After a moment, Sirius asked, “What if your son was one?”

Lucius’ eyes widened. “A… a…?”

“A homosexual, yes,” Sirius confirmed. 

Lucius huffed, offended. “He is not!”

“What if he is?”

Lucius clenched his jaw. Sirius loved playing that game.

“I would disown him,” he finally replied.

Poor boy, Sirius thought. The Malfoys were not so different from his own family—if you could qualify them as such.

“What would Narcissa think about that, mh?”

That made Lucius pause. Sirius knew his cousin; even if she was a real piece of work, he knew that she loved her son more than anything in the world and that nothing could change that. Not even a shitty husband. If it was Draco or Lucius, she would definitely choose Draco over him.

“I don’t even know if she will want me once I come back. I… I ruined the family’s reputation. Who knows what the Dark Lord is doing with them?”

Sirius' thoughts immediately drifted to Harry, as they often did these days. He wished he had been there for him, not stuck, rotting in a cell with Lucius Malfoy. If only he had killed Peter, everything would have been different. They would be living together, along with Remus, and would form the perfect home. But Sirius could only dream; it was not about to happen any time soon.

“Sirius.”

His head snapped to Lucius, who was still trying to eat his soup, visibly on the verge of vomiting.

“Yes?”

Lucius raised his eyebrows. “What?” he asked sharply.

Sirius frowned. “You called me?”

Lucius huffed. “I didn’t, you freak,” he said, then proceeded to take a sip of the mixture.

“Sirius.”

Sirius froze; it did not come from Lucius’ mouth. He stood up and began walking towards the bars, looking behind them to get a glimpse of the person calling his name.

“Yes?” he said again. 

Lucius dropped his spoon. “You—”

“I’m not talking to you!” Sirius cut him harshly.

“I’m behind you.”

Sirius slowly turned around, wondering who the idiot playing with his head was. He immediately took a step back, stumbling backwards, slamming his back against the bars. He could not believe what was in front of him. Who was in front of him. The copy of his eighteen-year-old brother was hovering over him, wearing a dark ensemble, looking at him in confusion as if he were the crazy one. Maybe he was, after all, the crazy one.

“Who are you!?” he finally asked, the words barely coming out of his mouth.

The thing in front of him almost laughed. “I know it has been years, but still.”

“Re… Re… Reg…” He really tried to pronounce his name, but it would just not come out. It felt like a weight hanging on the tip of his tongue.

Regulus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in defiance. “Can’t even say my name?”

Lucius looked behind him, following Sirius’ gaze. “What are you looking at?”

Sirius ignored him; he could not pretend to care at that point. 

His jaw dropped onto the floor, to the bottom of the sea, even.

“Am I dead?” was all he could ask.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not. But I am.”

“How?” he blurted out, still choosing to ignore Lucius’ confused gaze.

Regulus clenched his jaw. "Are we here to talk about me or you?"

That was the ghost of his brother. The brother he never cared for until his death. 

“I don’t understand,” Sirius muttered to himself more than to anyone.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, especially how we left each other.” Regulus glared at Sirius, whose eyes were fixed on the floor. “Harry sent me.”

Sirius’ head snapped to the ghost. “Harry sent you?” 

Regulus simply nodded. 

“How did he—"

Sirius stood up and walked past Lucius, who was still eating on the floor. “Nice, the freak is now talking to himself,” Lucius said.

Regulus sat on one of the single beds, crossing his legs. “It’s a long story we don’t have the time to talk about, as I wish to go back to him as soon as I can,” he paused. “He’s a medium; we’ve been in contact for over a year.”

Sirius knew something happened that summer! It all clicked now. Harry did not go to Regulus’ room only for the books but because his ghost was resting there. He wondered if his mother and father were also there. For a second, he was happy to be in Azkaban and not Grimmauld Place.

“So,” Regulus continued. “Harry wishes to know how you’re dealing with…” He glanced at Lucius. “…all of this.” 

Sirius sat on the bed next to his brother. When was the last time he had done that?

“Hey! That’s mine!” Lucius spat.

Sirius scoffed. “I have so many questions.”

“Not now, Sirius.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to; I’m just following orders.”

Sirius’ heart clenched. He failed him.

He gulped. “I’m fine, I just… Tell him I miss him. So much. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?"

He looked at Regulus, tempted to grab his shoulder. “For everything."

Regulus shook his head. “I told you—”

“I know! And I have a plan.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “A plan,” he repeated, incredulously.

Sirius slowly nodded. “If I escaped once, I can escape twice.”