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'Dear Sirius and Remus,
I need to tell you about the new Defence teacher...'
Sirius read the letter through again and frowned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He’d worried that Harry wouldn’t have an easy time this year with the wizarding world still painting Harry out as some kind of liar. Teenagers could be cruel, and teenagers that had spent the summer listening to their parents talk about how dangerous Harry was would be even worse. But he hadn’t thought to worry about Harry’s teachers.
Sirius knew Umbridge. She was the one behind most of the anti-werewolf legislation the Ministry put out, and she’d been making noise about getting blood status laws passed for years now. He twisted the diamond ring on his left hand around and around and thought about that woman teaching children her hateful views. Students that had been taught by Remus only a few years ago would now be taught to hate him, to fear him. Sirius pushed his chair back from the table sharply and stood up. Someone had to do something.
“Moony, my love, where are you?” Sirius scooped the letter up and followed Remus’ voice to the conservatory.
Remus was sitting in a pool of sun reading his manuscripts. The morning light was bright and it hit his brown hair just right to turn it golden, his pale skin soft and flawless too. Sirius would never be tired of watching Remus like this.
“Mmm, what?” Remus yawned. His amber eyes, turned molten in the sunlight, picked out the letter in Sirius’ hand, “oh, Pads. You know we can’t do anything.”
“Darling,” Sirius walked closer, “we have no choice. You know Harry doesn’t tell us everything, so if he’s mentioning detention and how horrible Umbridge is then there has to be more to it.”
“I know,” Remus set his papers down and ran his hands down his face. Sirius sat on his now vacant lap and was rewarded with Remus’ arms twining around his chest. “But we’ve spoken to Minverva and she said there’s nothing the school can do. She’s been sent by Fudge.”
“There has to be something.”
“Not this time,” Remus let his head fall against Sirius’ shoulder. “We just need to trust Harry will tell us if things get too bad. The first sign of Umbridge stepping out of line we can do something, I promise.”
“I hate this.”
“Me too.” They fell into silence, just breathing together in the morning sun and thinking about their godson.
Sirius sighed and held his fiance’s hand tight. They’d already discussed Harry’s letter at length, but he was still worried. Remus’ thumb moved over his engagement ring repetitively. Sirius smiled to himself - this was a new habit Remus had developed and, like most everything Remus did, Sirius loved it.
The rings that Remus had protested as being ‘ too much, too fancy, too expensive, too...glitzy’ were perfect in reality. Sirius loved his own, with the grey diamond nestled next to clusters of smaller white diamonds on a gold band. It was a little ostentatious and a little in your face - a perfect representation of himself. Remus had refused a huge diamond. The ring they’d chosen for him was a thinner silver band with inset stones. Sirius had elected not to tell Remus the inlaid diamonds on his ring were more expensive than the one on his hand. The receipt from the muggle designer had been wordlessly vanished as soon as it had been put into Sirius’ hands.
“Are you going to sit on my lap and distract me from my work all day?”
“You and I both know I can be more distracting than this.” Sirius didn’t look up from his spot on Remus’ chest, but he could practically feel the heat from his blush anyway. “And no, actually. I have therapy in an hour then we have the Order meeting at eight. Thought I’d pick us up some food for in between.”
“Sounds good,” Remus kissed him, like he always did when Sirius spoke about therapy. He wasn’t sure if Remus was trying to train him to think talking about things would get him what he wanted or if it was an involuntary response. Didn’t really matter to him. “Not looking forward to that meeting though.”
“Me neither. I know you said you wouldn’t go, but I don’t want Dumbledore to even try and send you back underground.”
“He might try Pads,” Remus put his manuscript down again and brought Sirius’ face to his own, “but they can’t take me away from you, not again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
*
Walking back into Grimmauld Place as a guest was an odd feeling for Sirius. This was a house that had been his prison as a child and his safety net as an adult. Here was where he’d rebuilt his family, here was where his family had turned against him.
He’d expected the house to look different somehow, like it hadn’t only been a matter of weeks since they’d moved out, but it was still the same. Moony’s armchair was still in the corner of the living room, positioned to get the best heat from the fireplace and for Sirius to still be able to reach out and touch him from the sofa.
Sirius turned his head towards the kitchen where he knew the others were gathered. He took a deep breath. There was hardly anyone left from the original Order. He didn’t want to go into that kitchen and see his ghosts in the empty chairs.
“Right,” Remus stepped forward first, always the brave one. “Let’s get this over with.”
They stepped into the kitchen together and were faced with what looked like a Weasley family reunion. Kingsley looked at them in relief from his seat at the table and Sirius’ stomach lightened in relief. He’d been hoping Kingsley would be on the inside this time.
Arthur moved forward to clap them both on the shoulder, “how’s Harry doing?”
“As good as can be expected,” Sirius smiled and took a seat at the table next to Kingsley, pulling Remus down next to him. “This everyone?”
“We’re waiting on the Hogwarts lot. Dumbledore sent a patronus ahead to say there was a hold up because of that new defence teacher.”
“Umbridge,” Remus said darkly, “bitch.”
Sirius snorted a laugh but tried to hide it at Molly’s glare. Something about her made him feel like a naughty kid again.
It wasn’t long to wait until the floo flared once more. Minerva came out first, dusting off her tartan hat smartly. She ignored Sirius’ whoop of delight, but managed to cuff him around the head as she put the hat back on. Dumbledore stepped out next with Snape by his side.
“Black, Lupin,” Snape sneered at them as he sat opposite. “You look...well rested.”
“Severus,” Remus was using his polite voice. The one he usually reserved for Sirius when they were fighting in public and he didn’t want to make a scene. “We’ve been well, thank you.”
“Busy planning weddings instead of doing anything useful...shame you couldn’t even be bothered to keep Potter in line.” He grimaced so they saw a glimpse of his white teeth. “He’s as insolent as his father.”
Remus kicked him under the table just as Sirius was about to spit an insult back.
“Severus, please.” Dumbledore stood from his seat at the head of the table. “Welcome to the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Thank you all for being here-”
Dumbledore was interrupted by the swooshing of the floo. A loud voice called out from the fireplace, “sorry I’m late, bit of a pickle in the Auror department with an escaping convict, but no matter - all sorted now. Oh, hey cousin Sirius! Always wanted to meet you - nothing like being a disowned Black, eh?”
Sirius stared at the young woman in shock. She was quite short, with round cheeks and bright pink hair, and even as she walked to a vacant seat at the table she managed to knock into two people. Sirius knew who she was immediately.
“You’re Andy’s daughter?”
“Yup, name’s Nymphadora, but if you call me that I’ll disown you again. It’s Tonks.” She grinned at him goofily and Sirius blinked in shock as her face became the spitting copy of his cousin’s. “Mum says sorry she couldn’t join but she needs to stay home to keep dad from buying another two dogs.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat and Tonks and Sirius winced, settling back into their seats.
Remus sniggered under his breath and whispered in his ear, “she’s cute.”
Sirius glared at him from the corner of his eye. “Is your type just Black’s who’ve been kicked off the family tree? You need help.”
--
Dumbledore’s speech ended, finally. Remus still felt twitchy under the man’s gaze, and he knew Sirius felt the same. Nervously, Remus twisted his engagement ring around and around.
“The Dark Lord is looking for something very...specific.” Snape’s drawling voice didn’t help Remus’ nerves. “He is after the prophecy.”
“Prophecy?” Tonks looked around in confusion. The younger members mirrored her confusion, but the older ones just looked grim. Sirius was as tense as a wire beside him.
“Is anyone going to explain what this prophecy is?” The eldest Weasley boy looked around. The woman sat next to him was young, almost as young as Remus had been when he’d first joined the Order. With a jolt of recognition he recognised her as the triwizard champion from Beauxbatons.
It was Sirius who broke the silence. Remus wasn’t brave enough to talk about it, not yet.
“‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.’”
Remus looked over at his partner, shocked. Those words had been haunting him for over fifteen years, but he hadn’t memorised them like that.
“Siri…”
“I had a lot of time to think those words over.” Sirius gave him a small smile, then turned back to Bill. “Those words were passed back to Voldemort and he took them to mean Harry. Funny thing is, it could have been Neville Longbottom too. Not like Frank and Alice hadn’t defied Voldemort three times by that point.”
“Wow,” Tonks’ hair had turned a sad brown. “So he really is the Chosen One?”
“Harry is more than that prophecy,” Sirius snapped. Tonks wasn’t the only one at the table who jumped at Sirius’ words.
“Touching,” Snape sneered. “The Dark Lord will not take the prophecy himself. He intends for Potter to retrieve it.”
“It can’t come to that,” Dumbledore said calmly. “The prophecy must stay safe and not be heard by Harry or others.”
“Harry deserves to know.”
“Harry is just a boy Sirius, you can’t honestly want to drag him into this.” Molly’s voice was high and placating and it set Remus’ teeth on edge. If Molly thought they weren’t suitable guardians she might have the power to take Harry away from them. The thought made him feel sick.
“He’s already been dragged into this!” Sirius’ voice whipped around the table, as sharp as a biting winter wind, and everyone around the table shivered. Remus hadn’t seen this side of Sirius for a while but it was one he’d never forget. The fire and fury that could be brandished at will, honed into a perfect weapon, forged from his very blood. It was one of the only personality traits Sirius had taken from his blood family. “He was dragged into this when Voldemort murdered Lily and James. When Voldemort sought him out time after time.”
“And you want him to know all this to what? Make the nightmares go away?”
“No! I want to keep him in the loop because he’ll find out anyway and he’ll do something stupid if he thinks he can’t trust us.”
“How would he find out? He doesn’t sneak around looking for trouble like you used to. Sirius, he isn’t James.”
“I know who he is! I know he isn’t James!” Sirius was seething with anger now, and Remus felt the same.
“Are you suggesting,” Remus cut in, his voice clear and level like he always kept it. “That Sirius and I only love Harry because he looks like James and acts like Lily? Like we don’t know he’s his own person?”
“Like we haven’t risked everything to keep him safe.” Sirius pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Look - this is a boy who protected the Philosopher’s Stone and thwarted Voldemort when he was eleven because he didn’t think his teachers would listen to him. Then he felt like he had no adults to turn to in second year so went to fight a basilisk and Voldemort again when he was twelve! When he thought I’d betrayed James and Lily he confronted me and held me at wandpoint in an abandoned shack. How can you think he’ll leave this be?”
“You have to understand something about our godson,” Remus said, “hiding things from him will never work. He’s tied up in this, probably more than any of us, and what he’s gone through doesn’t end here. We’re asking you to let us work with him instead of against him. To keep him safe.”
“But what would that even look like? You think we should tell him we’re risking our lives to keep information about him safe and he’ll just what - accept that? He’s a child! He isn’t going to make a rational decision about this.” Molly was shaking her head now, and Remus had to admit she had a point.
“If he thinks we’re in danger he’ll do anything to stop it.” Remus wanted to talk to Sirius alone, without an audience hanging onto their every word. “You know he will.”
“That doesn’t mean we need to lie to him Re! There has to be some kind of middle ground here.”
“There isn’t.” Arthur sighed, “and by keeping Harry out of it we keep the other kids out of it too. You know Ron would follow Harry anywhere, Fred and George too. Ginny, Hermione, Neville. It’s about more than just Harry. I’m sorry.”
Sirius’ eyes darted about the table, but it seemed everyone had made their mind up. Remus still wasn’t sure what to think, but when Sirius’ desperate gaze met his own he knew he’d support them both through it. He’d do anything to keep his family safe - even lie. It was a truth Remus didn’t want to examine.
“Arthur. Kingsley.” Dumbledore spoke once Sirius’ silence marked the end of the discussion. “We need a safe way to get into the Department of Mysteries every night.”
“Won’t be a problem,” Kingsley said, his deep voice sure and calm. “Arthur and I will work on it tomorrow.”
*
The day after the Order meeting was a sombre one. When Remus woke up it was to Sirius lying in bed, already awake, with his eyes flitting back and forth like he was reading something on the ceiling.
“Pads?” He didn’t sit up, just bunched the duvet up around his bare shoulders and nudged his way further into Sirius’ side. He was always so warm.
“Hmm?” Sirius was usually more coherent in the mornings, normally up and ready to convince Remus to fool around before the sun had truly risen, often successfully. Today wasn’t one of those days. Sirius started trailing his fingers through Remus’ curls and across his freckled shoulders, but the touch felt more absent minded than anything else.
“Okay, sweetheart?” Mornings were the only time Remus used those kinds of endearments. Sirius’ lips quirked into a little smile, even as he shook his head. “What’sit?”
“Thinking. ‘Bout the meeting yesterday. You don’t really think not telling Harry is the best option, do you?”
Remus rolled onto his back and let his eyes track the gilded ceiling too. He still didn’t know what he thought.
“I don’t know what the alternative is.” Remus groaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “If we tell him we’re guarding something to do with him he’ll be so angry. And he’d try and get it himself, you know he would. If Dumbledore won’t let us get the prophecy the normal way then it must be too much for Harry to hear.”
“You don’t think -” Sirius’ voice was uncharacteristically high, all fear and no hiding it. “You don’t think it says he’s really the Chosen One, do you?”
“No,” Remus didn’t believe his own words. “And you know prophecies are fickle, sweetheart. They don’t always play out like they’re written.”
“No, I guess not.” Sirius turned onto his side to face him. “I’m scared.”
“Me too.” Remus tangled their fingers together. “But at least we’re scared together.”
“Sap.” Sirius scoffed, but he was the one who leant over for a soft kiss.
--
Harry pinned a piece of paper to the frame of his bed which he’d ripped from the study diary Hermione had given him for his birthday. It was the only page he’d used so far, which was at least better than Ron. He was using his diary as a stand for his Chudley Cannons magazine collection.
He leant back on his hands and stared at his work. He’d crossed out the overly cheerful cursive that spelled out ‘countdown to exam season!’ and replaced it with ‘countdown to home.’ Only a week left. Harry let his hands slide until he fell backwards, head hitting the mattress uncomfortably. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks. Every time his head hit the pillow he had the same vision of a dark corridor leading to a dark door and just when he was about to reach out and open it, he jerked awake. He knew he’d seen that place before, but no amount of thinking had given him any answers, and for once Hermione hadn’t been able to help him either.
Harry sighed loudly and rolled over, pressing his face into his red and gold pillow. His glasses mashed uncomfortably against his nose, but he couldn’t be bothered to take them off.
“Mate,” Ron called from the bed next to Harry’s. “Game of Wizard’s Chess?”
Harry didn’t reply, and after a minute he heard Ron sigh and his heavy footsteps thunk down the stairs. The silence of the dorm rang in Harry’s ears but he couldn’t find the energy to regret not following Ron to the common room. Every so often a surge of noise reached him through the closed door, voices laughing and charmed Christmas carols rising above the general chatter, but still Harry didn’t move. He’d never felt further apart from the rest of Gryffindor.
He fell into a fitful sleep in the dark of his bed, waking after an hour to fling his glasses onto his pillow and burrow under the duvet, then an hour after that as visions of the dark corridor swam behind his eyes.
Harry sat up panting as he tried to force the image from his mind. His scar was tingling along with his palms, and his toes, and his breath was coming quickly. He stuck a hand out of the curtains surrounding his bed and grabbed his schoolbag. The soft cotton felt rough under his fingers and he fumbled through the books to fish out a scrap piece of parchment and a quill.
“ Lumos. ”
The light from his wand was just bright enough to write by. Harry twirled the quill in his hands a few times, not knowing what to write.
'Dear Padfoot and Moony,'
Harry scratched the words out. Using their nicknames felt too childish, too much like he was a kid who needed comfort.
'Dear Sirius and Remus,
We won against Hufflepuff yesterday - although I think Diggory’s been going easy on me since the tournament, so it didn’t feel like that good of a win. Fred and George were amazing though, they almost knocked him off his broom when he pulled out of a dive too early to give me a chance on the snitch (which I obviously didn’t take - I have standards. Plus I promised Ginny to let the game go on for more than thirty minutes so she didn’t have to do her homework until after lunch.)
I hope Moony enjoyed the cake I sent yesterday. Dobby said he made it extra chocolatey for you.
See you soon,
Prongs Jr'
Harry signed the letter off and read it over twice before crumpling it up and letting it get lost in the folds of his blanket. He’d see them in a week and they had more important things to do than read about his mediocre quidditch performance.
Harry turned over and shut his eyes, a frown still playing on his lips as he drifted back into sleep, visions of the dark corridor crystal clear in his mind as he slithered towards the dark door.
--
Harry had never sat in the formal dining room of the Potter Estate for longer than five minutes before, but it’s where he’d gravitated this time. The wood floor was polished to a shine and if he put his glasses back on he’d be able to see his shoes reflected in it. Instead, his glasses were flung to the middle of the oak table and Harry stared unseeing at nothing in particular.
Remus had set a cup of tea by his elbow when they’d returned from the hospital but it was cold now and Harry hadn’t taken a single sip. His insides were too tied up in knots to drink anything at all, so he just stayed sitting at the table. Distantly, he realised he was still in his pyjamas.
Footsteps sounded outside the door and Harry’s eyes prickled when he heard his godfathers speaking in hushed tones. They cared so much about him but they didn’t know this was his fault, that it was Harry who’d attacked Mr Weasley in the dream. They wouldn’t be whispering about how to help him if they knew.
“It’s my fault.”
Harry’s voice was hoarse but it reached his godparents, who stopped talking at once. Through blurry vision Harry saw them poke their heads into the room before rushing to his side.
“Oh Harry, of course it wasn’t.”
“You saved him Harry, you’ve been very brave.”
“I didn’t save him!” His twisting stomach jerked even tighter, tight enough that it seemed to squeeze every emotion out of him, like the snake was wrapped around his middle and slowly killing him. “Don’t you get it? I was the snake. It was me, I was the snake in the dream and I attacked Mr Weasley.”
“Harry.” A cool hand gripped his forearm tightly, “breathe. Think about it - you weren’t anywhere near Arthur tonight. You were asleep in your dorm and you cannot get in or out of Hogwarts that easily.”
“Plus, you aren’t a snake.” Harry saw Sirius shrug out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t take his eyes off Remus. “I’m not trying to make light of this, I’m just pointing it out. Harry -”
Sirius’ voice was deep and sure like it always was, rumbling in a comforting kind of way. The kind of voice you’d expect a happy go lucky cartoon dog to have. Harry finally turned and looked into icy grey eyes.
“Harry, there’s light and dark inside us all. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.” The tears in Harry’s eyes dripped over his eyelashes. “But you need to understand this wasn’t you, okay? It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t something you chose to do.”
The room was silent then, Sirius’ words bouncing around the room. They sounded like something he’d said before, many times, to many people.
“Harry...the dream you had. It sounds more like a vision that was put in your head. Have you had other dreams like this?”
Harry touched the scar on his forehead involuntarily. It had been hurting for so long he’d forgotten about it. He pulled his hand away and almost expected to see blood on his fingers. He wiped them down his trousers anyway, and nodded.
“It’s Voldemort, isn’t it? I have Voldemort in my head.”
“Oh, angel.” Remus knelt on the floor in front of him, his knees popping loudly in protest. “You are not him, understand? He’s using this to get to you.”
Remus brushed back the lock of hair which always flopped over his forehead and tapped his scar, light as a feather, three times. Rain hammered against the windows and something in Harry was washed away with it. A tiny piece of him that he’d been hiding for so long for fear of it being found out was now exposed to the two people he was scared of losing most, but instead of hating him for it they embraced him. Harry breathed and breathed and gripped Remus’ jumper in his fist tightly.
“Have you ever heard of Legilimency and Occlumency, Harry?”
Harry didn’t reply, barely even heard the question. Sirius kissed the crown of his head and asked again.
“No.”
“They’re tricky branches of magic - Legilimency is the art of reading minds, and Occlumency is the opposite. Blocking someone out of your head.”
Harry felt hope bloom inside him for the first time in hours. If he could just learn how to block Voldemort out then he would be safe.
“How do I learn?”
“I’ll teach you.”
“But not now.” Remus pried Harry’s hand from his jumper and used it to pull him up. “Right now you need sleep and you need to drink this tea.”
Harry made no move to get the tea nor to move upstairs to bed.
Remus waved his wand wordlessly and the now steaming mug shot into Harry’s hands.
“I put a bit of calming draught in it. And a tiny bit of sleeping potion - just enough to stop you tossing and turning.” Harry turned the mug around and around in his hands. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep right now.
“We’ll stay with you.” Sirius squeezed his shoulder. “We can camp out in the living room, sound good?”
“‘M not a kid.”
“Didn’t say you were. Now, do you want to build a fort or not?”
Harry sighed and knocked back the tea in one go, uncaring of the burn in his throat, and started walking towards the living room.