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Chapter Text

Harry was sitting in a secret spot he’d found on the grounds shortly after Christmas break. He’d discovered it when the whole Heir of Slytherin fiasco had become too much, and he needed somewhere to be alone and in silence.

The only other person who knew about it was Hermione. She’d got worried one day after noticing that Harry was often sneaking off during breaks and meals, so she’d followed him and found him sitting here.

At first, she hadn’t said a word, but after that, whenever she didn’t have assignments or wasn’t in the library, she’d bring him food and sit with him in his secret spot.

It gave Harry a small measure of peace, knowing how devoted Hermione was to him. Actually, ever since the whole Heir of Slytherin business, it had felt like Ron was avoiding him. This became even more obvious after Hermione was petrified.

Harry had been visiting her every day, spending a couple of hours each time. He would have stayed longer, but Madam Pomfrey kept insisting on visiting hours, asking him to leave when his time was up.

Yes, Harry could say without hesitation that Hermione was now his best friend, without a shadow of doubt. But still, something didn’t feel quite right about that statement, and Harry was having trouble understanding what it was.

Sure, Hermione brought a warmth into his life that he’d missed ever since she’d been petrified. When he found out about the attack, he’d felt a surge of emotions when he saw the cold, frozen form of his best friend. He was angry, he was scared, but above all, he was sad.

Was that combination of emotions supposed to mean something? There were so many aspects of life that Harry was ignorant of, thanks to his time with the Dursleys.

Maybe he could ask one of the girls in the common room if they could make sense of it? After all, girls were supposed to be good with emotions, weren’t they?

But then again, even if a girl were to talk with him about it, the conversation would be all over Hogwarts within the hour.

The boys weren’t much help either. Harry doubted Neville would know any more about it than he did, and all Ron cared about was Quidditch, chess, and food. Seamus was interested only in shallow things, which Hermione would never approve of, and Harry wasn’t even sure what the deal was with Dean.

So, he was out of options there. And even if he did know someone in another house, it wasn’t as if they’d want to talk to him right now. Still, since the attack on Hermione, others seemed less hostile, and the tension had lessened even more since he’d killed the basilisk. Not that they knew about that.

He tried thinking back to see if he’d ever felt this way before. There was something in his memory, but it was buried under so much fear that Harry had a hard time digging it up.

Suddenly, Harry noticed the sky darkening, and he decided to head back to the castle. The only thought on his mind was how much he hoped Hermione would be back soon.

Harry knew he should head back to his dorm by now, but he didn’t feel like having people stare at him and whisper, so he decided to take the long way to Gryffindor Tower.

That path led him past the library entrance, and a wave of gloom washed over him. The library had always been associated with Hermione in Harry’s mind. Even when he was sitting there without her, she was the first thing he thought of when he thought about the library.

But Harry couldn’t afford to dwell on it right now. He was late enough as it was.

With that, he headed back to his dorm, trying to push the thoughts away.

The next day, Harry was sitting at the table in the library that Hermione always used. She would get really annoyed if anyone else took it from her, and Harry had to admit that sitting there without her was both difficult and sad.

Just thinking about it made old memories pound in his head, trying to resurface. As he struggled to push past those thoughts, a memory he’d tried to block out surfaced.

Harry was seven years old, running across the yard of his primary school during break. The reason? He was trying to escape yet another lynching orchestrated by his cousin, Dudley.

Before he knew it, he’d run into the school building and kept going until he found what looked like the least visited room on the floor. He quickly opened the door just enough to slip inside without being noticed.

Harry clutched his stomach, panting and trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, a kind voice asked, “Why are you panting so much, dear?”

Harry looked up to see an old woman with white hair in a bun, warm brown eyes behind thick glasses, and a kind smile.

For some reason, Harry felt safe with her and answered honestly, between breaths, “Ran... away... bullies.”

Her smile softened, and she said gently, “Why don’t you go rest behind the shelf, dear? If anyone comes looking for you, I’ll send them away.”

Harry was surprised. No one had ever offered to help him before, not even the teachers. With a small smile, he replied, “Thanks, ma’am.”

The woman shook her head fondly. “Think nothing of it, dear. And you can call me Mrs Brown.” Harry nodded and headed towards the shelves. “Oh, and dear,” she added, “while you’re back there, pick yourself something to read. I always find it a great way to calm down.”

Harry nodded again before disappearing behind the second row of shelves. After another moment of catching his breath, Harry decided to take Mrs Brown’s advice and grabbed the nearest book.

It happened to be a fantasy romance novel, and once he started reading, he was hooked. He vaguely heard voices near the entrance to the library, but he ignored them, too absorbed in the story.

Harry clearly remembered the moment when the protagonist confessed her love to the other main character. But it was the male character’s question—how do you know if you love someone?—that struck a deep chord in Harry.

In the book, love was described as a warm feeling you had for someone even when they weren’t around, someone you felt comfortable with no matter the situation, someone who helped you bear your burdens, and someone you would do the same for.

Thinking about how his aunt and uncle treated him, Harry could say with certainty that there was no love there.

Before he could keep reading, Mrs Brown appeared with her same gentle smile. “Dear, you’ll have class in a few minutes. You’d best be off.”

Harry nodded, disappointed. He returned the book to its shelf and made his way to the exit. But before he could leave, Mrs Brown called, “Do come back soon, dear.”

With a lighter spirit, Harry left for class. As he walked, he thought about the passage he’d just read and the realisation that had followed. He hoped that one day he would find someone who made him feel that way—and that she would feel the same in return.

Harry gasped as he shook off the memory.

After that day, Harry had spent as much time as possible in the library for the next two years, reading book after book. It had started with fantasy, but under Mrs Brown’s recommendation, he’d begun reading books related to his studies as well.

Before long, Harry was top of his class in all his subjects, and Mrs Brown had praised him for being a quick learner. But after his aunt and uncle saw his final marks—much higher than Dudley’s—they’d given him a painful lesson in why he should keep his head down.

Harry continued going to the library to read and hide from Dudley’s "Harry hunts," but when he was nine, Mrs Brown was replaced by a younger woman with black hair. Mrs Brown’s husband had passed away, and she’d retired to live with her son.

Harry had been devastated. Mrs Brown was the only adult who had ever cared for him, but he kept going to the library, hoping it would remain a refuge.

That didn’t last long. The new librarian soon made up her mind about Harry, and it wasn’t a kind opinion. She began selling him out to Dudley and interfering with his reading, making false complaints about his behaviour.

Harry grew fearful of the library too, and with his aunt watching his studies like a hawk, making sure he wasn’t better than Dudley in any way, Harry had been forced to abandon his true self, becoming just another lazy, underachieving boy.

Eventually, it became so natural to him that even at Hogwarts, he didn’t dare to change his habits, preferring to stay on the safe side until he could escape his relatives.

But now, something else from that memory drew Harry’s attention.

A warm feeling even when she’s not around? Check. Feeling comfortable around her no matter what? Check. Sharing the burden he was carrying? Check.

Oh, Merlin! He had a crush on his best friend. Maybe he was even in love with her. But how could he be sure?

No, that didn’t matter. The important thing was that Harry wanted Hermione as more than just a friend. He wanted her as his girlfriend.

A small smile began to spread across his face, but it froze in place as another thought crept in.

Would Hermione even want him as a boyfriend? And even if she didn’t, could he blame her?

She was clever, hardworking, and pretty. And what had Harry shown her? That he was a lazy, more-luck-than-brains kind of guy. A scrawny, plain-looking one at that.

No, the truth was, he wasn’t worthy of her.

Depression began to creep into his mind, but then he remembered something Mrs Brown had said on her last day at the library: “Harry, dear, many things in this world seem impossible, but you’ll never know for sure unless you try. Why not be the one to take a shot, if you get the chance?”

Determination replaced his gloom. Harry would get better, and when he was worthy of her, he’d ask Hermione to be his girlfriend. And then, he’d hope for the best.

That night, Harry decided he hadn’t spent enough time with Hermione. With his vast experience in the hospital wing, he knew exactly when Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office, giving him a chance to sneak in for a bit longer under his invisibility cloak.

It was just after 10 p.m., and Harry was sitting next to Hermione’s bed, speaking softly. “Hi, Hermione. I know I already visited today, but I still feel like I want to talk more…”

His voice trailed off when the doors to the hospital wing opened. In walked Professor Minerva McGonagall.

The deputy headmistress cast a sad look around the room at the petrified students, her expression growing even sadder when her eyes fell on Hermione.

“Minerva, what business do you have here this late?” asked a silky voice as Severus Snape entered the room.

McGonagall turned to him and replied in her usual dry voice, “And what are you doing out of your dungeons, Severus?”

Snape answered just as emotionlessly, “I’ve just seen the headmaster, once again applying for the vacant post.”

The Transfiguration professor sighed. “Why you keep seeking that post is beyond me. Are you so eager to leave the castle? It might have escaped your attention, but no one’s held the position for longer than a year, and the last few have departed under quite unfortunate circumstances.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “I believe Albus mentioned he’s considering Remus Lupin for the role.”

This got a reaction out of Snape. His eye twitched, and he hissed, “Has the headmaster lost his mind, allowing that beast to teach children?”

McGonagall raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Remus earned his Masteries in Defence and History many years ago. He’s more than qualified for the post, unlike others I could mention. Albus has rather lowered the bar in recent years.”

Snape’s expression was unreadable as he replied smoothly, “The headmaster was right to keep the beast away from the boy all these years. Has he changed his mind?”

The Transfiguration professor responded just as emotionlessly, “I’m not sure. But if Remus chooses to tell Mr Potter about his friendship with James, there’ll be little we can do to stop it.”

Snape sneered. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to deprive the Potter boy of any privileges, now would we?”

McGonagall frowned but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she fixed the Potions Master with a hard stare. “When will the potion be ready, Severus?”

“By the end of the week,” Snape replied, sounding disinterested.

Their voices grew fainter as they left the hospital wing.

Harry felt a storm of conflicting emotions, but one thing was clear. He needed answers, and now there was someone who might provide them.

He squeezed Hermione’s frozen hand. “I’ve got to go, Hermione. I have a plan. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”

With that, Harry stood up and silently made his way back to his dorm. After all, he had things to do.

Chapter Text

To Remus Lupin,

I think you know who I am, but I’ll introduce myself anyway. My name is Harry Potter, and I believe you were good friends with my parents.

I learned your name by accident. Now, before I tell you how I found out about you, I want to say that from what I’ve read, there are some conflicting ideas about your views on rule-following.

I mean, I read in the library records that you were a prefect with my mother since your fifth year, but at the same time, you were in the same group as my dad, who played endless pranks around the castle.

I got a little sidetracked there. I was about to tell you how I heard your name, and even though you may not approve, I’m not sorry for how I did it.

I was in the hospital wing visiting my best friend, who’s been lying there petrified for the past couple of months. I’d already used up my visiting hours for the day, so I decided to sneak around under my invisibility cloak (yes, the same one my father used). While I was there, Snape and Professor McGonagall came in and started talking about how Snape tried to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts post again, but McGonagall told him the headmaster was planning to offer the job to you.

Snape seemed to hate the idea and mentioned something about a “beast” teaching children, but McGonagall shut him down. That’s when Snape mentioned that you were friends with my dad (he said it like it was some kind of insult).

It wasn’t much to go on, so I spent a lot of time in the library trying to find whatever I could about you, which paid off.

Now, you’re probably wondering, why is he telling me all this? Well, it’s because I really need help, and I have no one else to ask. To be honest, I consider you a bit of a long shot, but it’s the only chance I’ve got.

Let me give you a little background about my home life with my relatives. From the moment I was left on Aunt Petunia’s doorstep, she and her entire family hated me.

I was made to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, which was my bedroom until last year. Whenever I asked about my parents, Aunt Petunia would scream at me, saying they were good-for-nothing drunks who died in a car crash and didn’t have the decency to take me with them.

At first, the abuse was emotional, but when I turned six, it became physical. They never hit me hard enough to leave visible marks, but it was enough to leave scars all over my body.

That same year, they decided I’d been living for free in their home for too long, so they began making me do what they called “chores.” I was in charge of cooking, gardening, and pretty much everything else except cleaning, which my aunt was too obsessed with to leave to me.

Meanwhile, my cousin Dudley had two rooms to himself, got everything he wanted, and I was stuck wearing his hand-me-downs (and let’s just say, three of me could fit inside them with room to spare). He was also allowed to bully me as much as he liked, often with the help of his gang. There was nowhere I could escape from him.

When my Hogwarts letter came, they refused to let me go. They even took us all to hide on some island until the whole thing blew over. It took Hagrid literally breaking down the door for them to let me go.

And that was just my home life. Now let’s move on to my two years at Hogwarts.

To keep it brief, in my first year I dealt with a mountain troll, smuggled a dragon out of the grounds, survived an assassination attempt during a Quidditch match, and got detention in the Forbidden Forest with only Hagrid for company.

But all of that was just side stuff. The main issue was the Philosopher’s Stone hidden in the castle. On the same day someone tried to steal it, the headmaster conveniently went to the Ministry, so my friends and I had to go after the thief ourselves.

It turned out that the would-be thief was our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but worse than that—he was possessed by Voldemort. I had to fight him, and the result of our fight was the professor’s death and Voldemort’s escape.

When I returned to my relatives, they locked all my belongings and my owl in the cupboard and put bars on my window. A few weeks after my birthday, the Weasleys came in their father’s flying car and ripped the bars off the window to rescue me. That summer, I even had to beg Hagrid for food because my aunt refused to feed me.

Throughout the entire summer, I didn’t get a single letter from anyone, which terrified me because I’d only just made friends for the first time. It wasn’t until the last day before school that a house-elf showed up, warning me of danger at Hogwarts.

He told me he’d stolen all my mail to make me think I had no friends to return to, and when that didn’t work, he used magic in the house and blamed me for it. The Ministry believed him.

On the day of the train ride back to Hogwarts, my friend and I were locked out of the barrier (care to guess who was responsible?). My friend had the brilliant idea to use his father’s flying car to get to Hogwarts instead of just sending a letter to a professor.

Then, to summarise: an incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, another near-fatal Quidditch attack, missing the Halloween feast to attend a ghost’s Deathday Party, and that same night, an attack that left Filch’s cat petrified with a message on the wall: “Enemies of the Heir, beware.” Later, during a Dueling Club session, I accidentally spoke Parseltongue, which sparked rumors that I was the Heir of Slytherin and behind the attacks. One of the victims was my best friend.

It all came to a head a few weeks ago when a new message appeared: “Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.” I figured out where the Chamber of Secrets was and took my friend with me. My friend convinced me to take the Defense professor with us, but he turned on us and tried to erase our memories. The spell backfired, leaving me separated from him and my friend.

Long story short, I fought a basilisk, killed it with a sword, was healed by a phoenix, and rescued the girl.

Now I, along with a few other students, am waiting for Snape to finish the potion that will unpetrify everyone.

To top it all off, I discovered that Lucius Malfoy was behind everything this year, and it was his house-elf who had been warning me. I managed to trick him into freeing his elf, but he was so furious that he tried to use the Killing Curse on me. Luckily, the elf intervened before he could finish the incantation, and Malfoy left the castle in a huff.

I’m telling you all this because I’ve realised that I’ve allowed my relatives to destroy who I really want to be, and because of that, I’ve had to rely on luck for the past couple of years. I can’t keep doing that, especially after what I learned in the Chamber of Secrets.

I know I need help, but I have no one to ask. Snape is out for obvious reasons.

Professor McGonagall assigned us detention in the Forbidden Forest and refused to believe me when I warned her about the stone. She also stayed silent while the entire student body bullied me this past year, so I don’t trust her much either.

The headmaster has his own plans, which I’m starting to think aren’t really in my best interests.

My best friend is very clever and skilled, but she has her limits too, and I don’t want to be a burden on her—especially since she’ll have three months of school to catch up on once she’s awake.

It might only be by chance that I heard your name, but you were friends with both my parents, and I’d like to believe that means you care about me too. From what I understand, it was the headmaster who kept you away from me, so I’m willing to give you a chance to be part of my life now, if you want to.

Well, that’s all I have to say for now. I hope to hear from you soon (preferably before the end of the year for obvious reasons). By the way, the beautiful owl delivering this letter is mine. Her name is Hedwig, and she’s a bit spoiled. If you don’t want bloody fingers, I suggest giving her some bacon as your first course of action.

Truly,
Harry Potter

When Harry finished reading over what he’d written, he nodded to himself. It might be long and detailed, but it had to be. Harry was afraid that if he didn’t include so much detail, Remus might go through Dumbledore, and the headmaster would spin some tale to keep the man away from Harry again.

This way, the headmaster wouldn’t have any wiggle room. Harry had recounted everything from his own perspective, so there was no way to claim that there were things he simply didn’t know.

Harry folded the parchment and looked at the white owl sitting on the table next to him. “So, Hedwig, think you can find this Remus Lupin?”

The snowy owl gave him a hard look and an indignant hoot. Harry chuckled and smiled. “Sorry, girl, just a bit nervous. He really is my only shot.”

Hedwig’s gaze softened, and she gave a softer hoot as Harry tied the letter to her leg. He grinned and said, “Thanks, girl. Now, be careful and have a good flight.”

The owl bobbed her head before spreading her wings and flying out of the window. Harry watched her until the small white dot disappeared into the grey Scottish sky.

Chapter Text

Classes for the day were finished, and Harry was on his way to his private spot on the grounds, still feeling the gloom that had weighed him down since the morning.

It had been a couple of days since Harry sent the letter to Remus Lupin. This morning, Hedwig had finally returned, but to Harry’s dismay, it was without any reply. So, Harry made the most logical assumptions: either he was wrong about Remus Lupin and the man wasn’t a real friend, or Dumbledore had found a way to intervene.

The result was the same—Harry was left alone with no idea how to begin his quest to be better, to be worthy of Hermione.

Just as he was about to head towards the garden through the castle's main entrance, a familiar voice called out, “Oi, Ickle-Harry, wait a second!”

Harry turned to see the Weasley twins running toward him. With a wary look, he asked, “Is this some prank you’re playing on me?”

Both of them gasped in mock offense before George—or was it Fred—said to his twin, “Did you hear that, Forge? Ickle-Harry has such a low opinion of us.”

Ah, so that was George. The next one to speak was Fred. “The insolence of the young these days, Gred. And here we are with an important message just for him.”

Harry’s interest was piqued. “Important message?”

They both nodded and said in unison, “From the headmaster.”

Now Harry was suspicious about what this might be, but before he could respond, Fred began talking. “He asked us to tell you…”

George finished the sentence, “To get to his office as soon as possible.”

They turned Harry towards the hall that led to the headmaster’s office and gave him a little push while calling out, “Run, Harry, run!”

Then Fred remembered something else and called after him, “Oh, and if you find a toffee candy, bring it to the headmaster!”

Harry walked as fast as he could toward the office, trying to keep it from looking like he was running. Inside, he was nervous. He had a good idea of what the headmaster wanted to talk to him about, but he had no idea how the conversation might go. Would the headmaster be angry? Disappointed? Or did he just want to explain why there was no answer?

He was so consumed by his worried thoughts that he almost missed the large gargoyle statue protecting the entrance to the headmaster’s office. Remembering his previous visits and Fred’s final words, he stood in front of the statue and said in a low voice, “Toffee candy.”

The statue leaped aside, revealing stairs leading up to the office. As he approached the door, he heard a strange voice he hadn’t heard before shouting, “You should be ashamed, Minerva! If Lily were alive today, she’d have cast a spell to drown you in a bath after forcing you into your cat form!”

A tired old voice that Harry recognized as the headmaster’s replied next. “Please, Remus, if you must use such methods, aim them at me, not Minerva.”

Wide-eyed, Harry opened the door without knocking. Once inside, he took in the scene before the others realized he was there.

Professor McGonagall was sitting in a wooden chair next to the headmaster, clutching a long piece of parchment. Her face looked old, tired, and pained.

The headmaster sat in his usual throne-like chair, wearing his ever-colorful robes and hat. He, too, looked as old as his years suggested, and his half-moon glasses rested on the desk.

Across from them, glaring harshly at both professors, stood a ragged man. His short brown hair was barely kept, and a scar ran across his cheek. He was wearing an old and worn brown robe.

A moment later, all eyes turned to Harry.

The professors looked at him with enormous guilt, their faces pale. Tears were even beginning to form in McGonagall’s eyes.

The other man—Remus Lupin—quickly dropped his glare and gave Harry a soft smile, calling out quietly, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, “Harry?”

Harry could only nod slightly. Mr. Lupin quickly added in a gentle voice, “You look just like your father. But you have your mother’s eyes.”

Harry had heard that before from Hagrid once or twice, but hearing it from someone who had been close to his parents warmed him deeply.

Before Harry could respond, the headmaster spoke in his usual calm tone. “Harry, thank you for joining us. If you would, please take a seat.”

Normally, Harry would have thanked the headmaster, but he didn’t feel like doing that right now. As he walked deeper into the room to sit across from the headmaster and his deputy, he was stopped by a thrilling sound that filled him with warmth and happiness.

Harry turned to see the source of the sound—a phoenix, perched nearby, staring at him. Harry smiled at the majestic bird and said softly, “Hi, Fawkes. I still owe you thanks for getting us out of the Chamber.”

The red-and-gold bird spread its wings slightly and let out another soft trill, filling Harry with warmth again. But this time, something else happened. It was almost as if he heard a stranger’s voice in the back of his mind, whispering in a soft, deep tone, No, young Harry. Thank you.

Harry gasped, his eyes wide as he looked around to see if anyone else had entered. But when he saw no one, and noticed the concerned looks on the faces of the three adults, Harry could only reach one conclusion.

He turned his gaze back to the bird and asked in disbelief, “Fawkes, did you just thank me? With words?”

The phoenix tilted its head, and if its eyes could widen, they certainly did now. After a moment, the beautiful creature bobbed its head once and trilled again.

Harry felt the warmth once more, and he thought he could hear some muffled words in the back of his mind, but nothing he could understand. Harry shook his head sadly and said, “Sorry, Fawkes. Nothing this time.”

The bird looked confused, before its head snapped straight up, and it gave an irritated trill—not at Harry, but at its bonded wizard.

The old man sighed heavily and shook his head at his familiar, causing Fawkes to huff in annoyance. The headmaster then spoke. “Please, take a seat, Harry.” While Harry walked towards the seat again, the headmaster continued, “Usually, only the bonded wizard can understand a phoenix’s language, but it is said that this trait can be passed down to descendants of that wizard. I can only speculate that one of your ancestors had a bonded phoenix and that trait passed on to you.”

Harry sat down, tilting his head in confusion. “So, why didn’t I understand him in the Chamber? And why did I understand him the first time just now, but not the second?”

Both the headmaster and the deputy looked surprised. They probably weren’t used to Harry questioning anything after the first explanation, but they’d better get used to it. This Harry wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore. He might not be able to improve in every area on his own, but he could certainly push himself to be more confident and better informed.

The headmaster cleared his throat before saying, “I believe introductions are in order first…”

Harry cut him off by turning to the man sitting next to him. “Remus Lupin. Prefect in Gryffindor alongside my mum, and one of the members of my dad’s prank group.”

Remus chuckled before replying, “We called ourselves the Marauders, Harry.”

“Yes, indeed,” the headmaster confirmed before asking Harry, “And how is it that you know so much about events from so far in the past?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the man and simply replied, “Records in the library.”

The headmaster nodded. “Ah, yes. We must discuss your sneaking around the castle after curfew using your father’s cloak.”

Remus growled beside Harry and snapped at the headmaster, “Don’t go there, Albus! You have no right to make such accusations after everything Harry has suffered under your care without you intervening.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “While we will discuss those accusations soon, Harry’s rule-breaking cannot be ignored.”

“But yours and your staff’s can?” hissed Lupin.

Harry shook his head and said evenly, “Don’t bother, Mr. Lupin. Professor Dumbledore is just covering for Snape. I’m actually surprised the oily snake isn’t here.”

The headmaster gave Harry a rare frown, but before he could say anything, Remus snorted and hissed, “Oh, the headmaster intended to let Snivellus join us, but I believe you interrupted him before he could send for him.”

“It’s Professor Snape, Harry, Remus,” the headmaster admonished them firmly before adding, “and he has my full trust.”

Remus began to growl, but Harry cut him off first. “Headmaster, there are two problems with your last statement.”

Professor McGonagall, who had been unusually quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke in a weak voice, “What do you mean, Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked at both professors before replying, “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean manners are beneath you. And manners dictate that someone can only join a conversation if everyone involved agrees. You can’t use your age to push Snape into situations that have nothing to do with him.”

The headmaster didn’t seem happy with that, but he had to admit Harry’s point. Harry continued, “And secondly, just because you trust him doesn’t mean anyone else does. To be honest, no one else trusts him because he’s never given anyone a reason to.”

There was a long silence before Professor McGonagall surprisingly spoke again. More surprising was what she said. “He’s right, Albus. For the life of me, I can’t see why you place so much trust in that despicable man.”

“I have an idea.” Everyone in the room turned to look at Harry. He sighed. “Headmaster, may I speak honestly and drop all the formalities?”

At this point, even Harry wasn’t sure what had come over him. It felt as if, after opening the door to let his true self out of the cage his relatives had locked him in, all the traits he had repressed to stay safe had returned at once.

He was starting to act like the heroes he’d read about in his fantasy books. He was using the analytical mind he had developed from reading textbooks to process everything that was being said. But it was just now that Harry realized he’d been doing this for the past few days without even noticing.

There was still doubt and insecurity bubbling within him, but he kept reminding himself how many bad things had happened because of those traits over the past few years. The only reason he wasn’t dead was pure luck, and he refused to rely on that anymore.

The headmaster gave him a curious look but answered with an indulgent smile. “Of course, my boy.”

Harry gave him a flat look and said dryly, “I think you’ve lost yourself in the image the public created for you.”

Chapter Text

Dumbledore reeled back as if he had been slapped and asked weakly, “Pardon?”

Harry took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to insult you, sir. That being said, I am stating a fact. For the past six decades, people have looked up to you. Some for hope, some for power, most for leadership. And for most of it, you did an amazing job. Until you lost yourself.”

The old man leaned back in his chair and asked flatly, “And how would you know that?”

Harry mimicked the man’s action to show that he wouldn’t be intimidated before speaking calmly. “I spent the last couple of days in the library, looking through the records for anything I could find on Tom Riddle…” The name caused the headmaster to gasp, but Harry ignored it. “But there wasn’t much to find. So, after that, I decided to gather as much information as I could on the man who seems determined to control my life. And I found some interesting things.”

“Is that so, Harry?” The headmaster asked with a frown.

Harry just gave a small chuckle. “Relax, sir, I don’t mean anything bad. Actually, most of it was very impressive. How you began your career at Hogwarts as a Defense professor during the start of Grindelwald’s war. You balanced your students and the front lines with expertise. After you won your duel and ended the war, I can hardly say you didn’t deserve the praise and admiration you got.”

The old man was now smiling. “Why, thank you, my boy. It was a troubling time. Might I suggest in your free time, you search the records for your esteemed head of house right here? She, too, achieved a great many things during those years.”

Harry nodded slightly before letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know where your issue began. Was it the PTSD? Was it the peacetime you got used to? Or did the words of the people reach your mind and settle there?”

Now, once again, the headmaster was frowning, but he didn’t look like he was about to speak, so Harry kept going. “You saw war, you knew what dangerous and rogue wizards were capable of, and still you missed one that was under your nose for seven years. You, as the deputy at the time, made him Head Boy and allowed his cult to grow inside the school. Once Tom began waging his war, you were already headmaster and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and then you took on the title of ‘leader of the light’ so you could lead the fight against the new Dark Lord.”

Everyone in the room was listening to Harry as if this were the first time they’d heard the story, though they had all lived through it. With a deep breath, Harry continued. “You spread yourself too thin even then, and the people began to pay the price. Both civilians and people who chose to fight at your command. Instead of delegating, like you did during the first war, in this one you decided that you were the only one who could make the right choices, damn the result.”

The headmaster shook his head and said without any trace of heat, “I’m afraid you’re being too harsh, Harry. You’re young, and new to the idea of war. You can’t save everyone when you’re fighting for the soul of your country.”

Harry gave the man a hard nod before retorting, “I agree with you on that. No war can end without casualties. This is the sad truth of reality. But you’d be surprised at the kind of information one can find when he has an invisibility cloak to spend the night in the restricted section of the library.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened, while Remus chuckled softly next to him. But Harry kept speaking. “I read that during the war, an Auror named Moody followed your orders. He kept saying that no matter how much he begged you to allow them to use lethal force against Tom’s forces, you refused, which led to the deaths of many brave people who fought for their country, while their murderers escaped with a couple of minor injuries that were treated immediately afterward. Can’t you see where the problem is, sir?”

The headmaster was now scowling and responded firmly, “We do not stoop to their level, Harry. Killing should never be an option.”

Harry scowled right back and shot back in irritation, “You’re naïve, sir! Granting Auror Moody’s request wouldn’t have been a license to kill. Its goal was to allow your forces to use spells like cutting curses instead of stunners when they were being bombarded with Unforgivables. You could have emphasized that killing should only be a last resort, and that they could use the spell to disarm their enemies by targeting their wands. With your decision, you made each fight your forces had with Tom’s very one-sided, with the advantage going to the enemy.”

The headmaster shook his head in denial. “Harry, you must understand that winning with tactics like that would have resulted in more strife, even after the war.”

“And here, ladies and gentlemen, is his greatest flaw!” Harry shouted dramatically.

The three adults were in shock. It was Professor McGonagall who recovered first and asked gently, “What do you mean, Mr. Potter?”

Harry shook his head sadly and looked at the old man. “Don’t get me wrong, headmaster. I know you want to protect everyone, but you have to see that by doing so, you’re destroying so many lives in the process.” The hundred-year-old educator looked shocked at the accusation, so Harry elaborated. “You said you can’t win a war without casualties, but didn’t you realize that by your tactics, what you were saying was that you were willing to sacrifice all of the people on your side to win the war in a way that would spare the enemy from any casualties. See the double standard there?”

The headmaster looked like he had aged another century, his eyes growing distant, and his face as pale as a sheet.

Harry let out a heavy sigh and said softly, “You’re always watching the forest, but you forget that it’s made of individual trees.”

The old man seemed to recover and shook his head in denial again. “No, Harry, you just don’t understand. I care about each person in our society, and I fight for every one of them.”

Harry felt his blood boiling. His anger got the better of him in that moment. He stood up so sharply that the chair he was sitting on fell to the ground. Harry didn’t notice and didn’t care. He began undressing, shouting, “Is that so, sir?!”

His head of house began to rise from her chair, asking gently, “Mr. Potter, what are you do—”

She froze, her voice trailing off as Harry threw his shirt aside, revealing his upper body. His back was covered in small scars from his uncle’s belt, and his front bore burn scars from when his aunt had spilled boiling water on him because the food wasn’t ready in time. There were many more scars, thanks to his cousin’s hunts.

The old woman fell back into her chair with a gasp, tears welling in her eyes. He heard a growl coming from beside him, and the headmaster himself was so shocked he was rendered speechless.

Even Fawkes let out an angry cry, which only fueled Harry’s rage as he shouted at the old man, “Did you fight for me?! Did you fight for me when I was bitten and left to bleed and rot in my cupboard?! Did you fight for me when I spent my entire mornings cooking only to be sent back to my excuse of a room to starve?! D-Did you fight for me when I had no place to feel safe, w-wh-when I was forced to hide who I really am just to survive?”

Harry was crying now, the pain of the memories overwhelming him. “Y-Y-You left me t-there, sir. Can you say I was safe? Can you say you fought for Harry, the unloved orphan?”

Harry heard a sob echo through the room, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or not, but before he became completely incapable of speaking through his sobs, he forced out the final blow. “Can’t you see, sir? I’m the tree you forgot about while you were watching the forest.”

Harry was about to collapse to his knees and cry when he felt a new weight on his shoulder. Then a thrilling sound filled him again, pushing away his anger and sadness.

Harry felt a few wet but warm tears hit his scarred skin. He opened his eyes, and even through his blurred vision, he saw the skin where the drops landed heal until no scars remained.

A soft, sad trill from the phoenix on his shoulder drew Harry’s gaze into the bird’s eyes. Even without hearing words, Harry understood that the majestic familiar was apologizing for not being able to heal more than a couple of scars.

Harry sniffed and gave a small smile to the bird. “Thanks, Fawkes. You did more than enough.”

Fawkes let out one more thrill that spread warmth inside Harry before taking off back toward his perch.

Suddenly, the headmaster’s desk shook as two fists slammed onto it with far more power than Harry thought the ragged man next to him had. Remus glared at the headmaster and snarled, “Damn you, Albus! You told me he was safe! You told me he was happy! You told me you were looking after him!”

“THE WORST KIND OF MUGGLES THEY ARE! I WARNED YOU, ALBUS!” screamed McGonagall, her fury and venom dripping from every word. “YOU TOLD ME I HAD NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT! ARE YOU SENILE OR A LIAR?!” She continued cursing the old man in her native tongue, which Harry couldn’t understand.

Then Remus let out a dark chuckle and said in an ominous voice, “I don’t envy you, Albus. You don’t have to be afraid of us because soon enough you’ll reach your next great adventure, and I have a couple of guesses about who will be waiting for you on the other side. I’ll pray for your sake that it’s James and not Lily.”

The headmaster looked incapable of speaking, his own eyes filled with tears. Finally, he managed to choke out, “Mrs. Figg. She was my spy there. Why didn’t she report—”

He was cut off by a dark chuckle, this time from Harry himself. “What? Did you think my relatives would advertise their abuse and risk ruining their reputation with the neighbors? They were very… creative in making sure no one found out. Mrs. Figg only babysat me twice in my life, and I barely saw her outside of her house. So how could she know?”

“Two weeks.” Remus growled, but this time it was different. All three of them looked at the ragged man before he elaborated in the same bloodthirsty voice, “The full moon is in two weeks. We’ll see how those bastards enjoy being the prey.”

“Please don’t, Remus,” the headmaster said calmly, drying his eyes.

Remus hissed, “Do you think you can tell me not to after—”

The old man raised his hand to calm the furious man before explaining himself. “Do not mistake my intention. I agree that those vile animals must face retribution when the time is right. But if you choose your current course of action, who will be left to care for Harry here?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at the headmaster hopefully. “Do you mean…?”

Harry couldn’t even finish the question; it was too much to hope for. But the headmaster gave him a kind smile. “I can now see the enormous mistake I made, my boy. And you were forced to suffer because of it. I know you may not believe me and may never be able to forgive me, but know that I am sorry. The least I can do is ensure you will never return to that hell again and that you will be taken care of by someone who genuinely cares about you.”

Harry was disbelieving, but he had a smile on his face as he said politely, “Thank you, sir.”

The headmaster waved his hand dismissively and said with a sad smile, “I do not deserve any gratitude from you, my boy, especially not for something I should have made happen ages ago.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, during which Harry took the time to redress himself, the headmaster spoke again. “Harry, I believe Poppy is about to administer Severus’s potion to the petrified students. Why don’t you take Remus to meet Miss Granger? The young lady is sure to appreciate the company after her ordeal.”

All Harry could say was, “Yes, sir.”

And with that, both of them headed to the door, but just before they left, the old man called out once more. “Thank you, Harry, for giving me much to think about—both about the past and the future.”

Harry just gave him a wary nod and left the room with Remus at his heels. To be honest, Harry wasn’t sure what would happen with the headmaster from here. He certainly hadn’t planned on going so deep in the conversation. He could only hope the results would make things better.

Chapter Text

Albus watched the door close behind Harry and Remus as they left for the hospital wing.

Even as Harry left his office, perfectly dressed in his school uniform, Albus felt as though his eyes had x-ray vision—he could still see the scarred skin beneath the clothing.

The image of the young chil—no, young man—standing before him, shirtless, with more scars than most war veterans, tears streaming down his cheeks from painful memories Albus had forced on him through his negligence, haunted the old wizard.

Albus would admit, at least to himself if no one else, that he had anticipated Harry facing a hard decade when he left him on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive.

He only knew Petunia Dursley from her one letter and the stories he’d heard from Lily over the years, but he could read between the lines. The woman was bitter and jealous of her sister.

Knowing this, Albus predicted Petunia would favor her own son over Harry, causing the boy to lack the warmth of a true mother and live at a relative disadvantage. But in Albus’s mind, it was an acceptable sacrifice for Harry’s safety.

That opinion solidified when Albus began suspecting that Tom had survived that Halloween night. So much so that he ignored Hagrid’s warnings about what he’d seen and heard from Harry when delivering his letter.

Albus even ignored how skinny the boy looked, brushing off Poppy’s pleas to investigate Harry’s home life after his first treatment, considering it a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.

Suddenly, Albus choked on air, and his blood froze in his veins. Those words… Did I really? All this time, had Gellert’s words lingered in his mind so deeply that, without realizing it, he had begun to act according to them?

Albus began to spiral, losing control over his thoughts, until the voice of his old friend brought him back to the present. “The poor boy. I told you, Albus, what kind of Muggles they were.”

Albus gave her a tired nod. “I know, Minerva. I realize the fault lies with me. Harry quite pointedly laid out just a small fraction of my failures regarding so many people.”

Tears returned to Albus’s eyes. “The Bones, the Blacks, Peter… so many people paid the price, and even to this day, some still do because of my incompetence.”

“I am glad to see your eyes opened to your flaws at last, Albus,” the portrait of Dilys Derwent spoke from her place on the wall across from him.

Albus turned to her, confused, but it was the portrait of Dexter Fortescue who elaborated. “We advised you long ago that you had spread yourself far too thin. It is obvious in all your duties.”

Before Albus could respond, another voice—Eupraxia Mole, another past headmistress—cut in. “While I do not agree with your methods, Albus, I will say that right now you are a single pillar holding the entire country, and you are no longer a young wizard. What will happen if you pass on during the coming year?”

With growing horror, which likely reflected on his usually calm face, he gasped, “The people will fall into chaos, and the dark faction will seize control.”

Then it was Armando’s turn to speak. “Consider, Albus, that all your secrets will die with you. Without that information, there will be no stopping Tom once he returns.” Albus’s predecessor gave a heavy sigh. “Truly, Albus, I have no idea what happened to you after I named you for the job. You worked so well with young Newt and shared all vital information with him. Now you treat young Harry as a tool for you to wield.”

“That’s absurd!” Albus denied from the bottom of his heart.

A voice behind him snorted, and Albus turned to see the sneering face of Phineas Black. In his usual condescending tone, Phineas said, “Your plan was quite brilliant, if I dare say so myself. Leave the boy in an abusive environment so you’ll appear as his savior. Keep him ignorant of the magical world so he’ll be isolated. Ensure he befriends a family under your control. Send the most incompetent staff member to introduce him to the magical world. Use him as a trap to draw out the Dark Lord in his first year and test him by the end of it. Then let him be bullied and humiliated for most of his second year while a monster looms, threatening all the students. If only the boy hadn’t grown up from the experience, your plan would have been perfect. Of course, that’s not even mentioning the prophecy about the boy or the other dirty secret you’re hiding.”

There was complete silence in the room following Phineas’s words. Until a chair next to Albus screeched as it was dragged across the floor. Albus turned to see the end of a wand pointed at him. That wand was held by a furious Minerva, now standing in a fighting pose, ready to throw the Killing Curse.

Her voice was a venomous hiss. “Albus Dumbledore, if what he says is true, I will send you to meet Lily right now!”

Albus raised his hands calmly and said with as much sincerity as he could muster, “Of course not, Minerva. I would never use a child in such a despicable manner.”

Minerva lowered her wand slightly, still ready to strike, and demanded, “Then explain. Why was Hagrid sent to Mr. Potter and not me, as per protocol?”

Albus sighed heavily. “Was it wrong of me to assume Harry could use a friendlier personality during such a troubling time? You must admit your personality is quite strict. I was worried it might scare him too much after the upbringing I suspected he endured.”

Now it was Minerva who sighed heavily. “Yes, Albus, you were wrong. What Harry needed at that time was someone who could show him the world he was about to enter, more than anything else.” Then her gaze hardened again. “Were the Weasleys part of your plan?”

This time, Albus frowned. “No. It’s concerning how Harry met them. I assumed he met Mr. Weasley on the train, but for them to be on the Muggle side of the station, shouting those words…” Albus took a moment to consider the details he’d gleaned using Legilimency, before arriving at a worrying theory. “Molly, like everyone else in the country, knew the year Harry would arrive at Hogwarts. She had a son his age and a daughter a year younger. The image painted here is quite troubling. She never even informed me of the bars on Harry’s window.”

Minerva frowned with concern as well. “I see. We will need to keep a closer eye on the Weasley family.” Albus nodded in agreement. Then Minerva moved to the next accusation. “Headmaster Black mentioned a prophecy? I demand to know.”

Albus was about to refuse, stating how dangerous it was for her to know, until the voices of the past headmasters returned to him. He took a deep breath and said in a serious tone, “What I am about to say must never leave this room.”

Minerva gave him a determined nod, and so Albus resolved to continue. “That was the reason I hired Sybill. Just before the end of the interview, she made a genuine prophecy. Yes, I know you don’t agree with Divination, but there is no denying that some prophecies in the Ministry have come true. As much as I wish it were otherwise, the Department of Mysteries confirmed this one is real.”

With an aggravated sigh, Minerva asked, “And what does this prophecy say?”

Albus chose his next words carefully. “I’m not going to repeat the exact words, but it boils down to either Harry kills Voldemort, or Voldemort kills Harry. There is no other possible outcome once Tom returns.”

The fury returned to Minerva’s face. “And instead of training him, you kept him ignorant of magic until he was eleven? And even now, you’re only offering him an ordinary education?!”

Albus was quick to retort, “The boy deserves to have an ordinary childhood!”

A snort from the portrait next to Albus drew the attention of both professors. Irritated, Albus asked, “Anything to add, Phineas?”

The man sneered from his portrait. “I’m just wondering where you’ll bury the boy.”

Albus looked completely scandalized. “You have crossed the line, Phineas Black!” he boomed.

The man kept sneering, asking in mock innocence, “You yourself just days ago assumed that the Dark Lord would regain a body within the next three years. Do you really believe the boy, on his current path, will be able to defeat a wizard on your level?” After a long silence, Phineas delivered the final blow. “You are grooming the boy to be a lamb to the slaughter. What childhood is worth anything if you don’t even live to see the end of your youth?”

While Albus’s worldview was once again shattered, the voice of his predecessor Armando spoke in an amused tone. “My, my, Phineas. You sound like you care for the boy.”

For the first time in Albus’s memory, Phineas answered with a straight face, without a trace of a sneer. “I never gave a damn about my reputation, Dippet, but make no mistake—I became a headmaster to guide and protect our students, not to see them killed by convoluted plans. The fact that the boy has Black blood in his veins merely forced my hand to intervene.”

Ah, yes. Dorea Black, James Potter’s mother. Albus had nearly forgotten that fact. And yet Phineas’s words continued to echo in his mind, painting an ugly picture of himself that Albus despised.

“Things will have to change, Albus,” Minerva pointed out, breaking the tense silence that followed the portraits’ words.

Albus was tired, and he felt his head was too heavy to nod. “I agree. But you’ll have to allow an old man some nights to reconsider his actions and how best to amend them.”

Minerva gave him a look full of pity before she nodded and began walking toward the exit. But she stopped short of the door, as if remembering something. “Albus, Mr. Potter pointed something out to me after class today that intrigued me as well.”

Albus chuckled. “The young man is full of surprises today. Do not keep me in suspense, Minerva.”

Minerva glanced out the window before speaking. “Mr. Potter informed me that it is possible to purchase the potion to counter the effects of petrification with relative ease, and that we could have had the students back in classes in a couple of weeks.”

Albus looked surprised and answered honestly, “Severus told me his potion was the fastest and best option, with no side effects in sight.”

Minerva frowned slightly. “While I would never deny his skill in potions, there were alternatives. Buying the potions from an outside source would have ensured a faster recovery, even if not immediate.”

Now Albus was frowning as well. “I trusted Severus’s judgment on the matter, as it is his area of expertise.”

Minerva huffed in disgust. “That man allowed dozens of students to suffer for months just to satisfy his pride and ego. If one of his house members had been among the victims, I assure you, his answer would have been different. Why you insist on trusting such a vile man is beyond me, Albus.”

After taking a deep breath, Minerva opened the door to leave and called out a parting line. “Something for you to ponder in the coming days. I know I have much to ponder myself.”

With that, the door closed, and Albus was left alone in his office. All he could do was stare blankly at his desk.

Suddenly, there was a weight on his shoulder and a trill in his ear that pulled him out of his self-pity.

Albus looked into the eyes of his familiar and asked in a lost voice, “What am I to do now, my old friend?”

The phoenix trilled again, and Albus could hear the comforting deep voice in the back of his mind. “Do what I do every month. Your view has burned; let a new and better one rise from its ashes.”

Albus let those words sink in. But as he did, he heard the deep voice again. “He is quite a special young one.”

There was no doubt in Albus’s mind as to whom Fawkes referred. “Indeed he is. I have wronged him so much; I hope that one day I will be worthy of his forgiveness.” After another moment of thought, he asked, “Harry heard you speak, didn’t he?”

The bird bobbed its head before speaking inside Albus’s mind again. “The boy has the trait to understand me, but the taint behind his scar is blocking many of his skills. Today, for a mere moment, the taint lost its hold on his magic, allowing my words to pass through.”

Albus stroked his beard. “Something worth investigating in the near future. It might be the key to saving the poor boy.”

Fawkes trilled again before flying back to his perch, leaving Albus to his thoughts.

Albus looked at the glasses on his table and said quietly to himself, “It is time to change my view. I must take care of the trees if I wish to see the forest flourish in the future.”

There were many things for Albus to consider, and even more to do once he chose his new path in the time he had left.

Chapter Text

Harry was walking toward the hospital wing faster than usual, though not as fast as he had walked to the headmaster’s office.

He would need to go over the conversation he had just had with Dumbledore later. That discussion had certainly gone sideways very quickly, but Harry simply couldn’t hold any of it in any longer.

Actually, there was a lot more Harry wanted to say, not just to the headmaster, but that would have to come later if the opportunity arose.

He was pretty sure he’d given Professor Dumbledore—and for that matter, McGonagall—a lot to think about already. All he could do now was hope that good things would come of it.

Though, thinking about it, the headmaster did say Harry wouldn’t have to return to his relatives ever again. He’d even mentioned that Remus would be the one to take care of him over the summer. Harry could only hope that would happen and that the old man wouldn’t change his mind in the next few days.

Before Harry could think about it further, a now-familiar voice cut in teasingly, “So, you snuck out at night to sit and hold this girl’s hand, eh?”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up and demanded, “How did you find out about the hand-holding?!”

He’d been under his invisibility cloak—no way even Madam Pomfrey could have known about that! So how the hell did Remus know?

The man chuckled. “Well, I was just joking, but now I’m really curious.”

Harry groaned before saying flatly, “That was a dirty trick, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus laughed harder before managing to speak. “You can call me Remus, Harry. We’re family, after all.” Harry felt a smile spread across his face, but it froze when the older man smirked and said casually, “By the way, your dad never managed to pull one over on me with this smooth subject change either, so you’d better start talking.”

Harry blushed again, but seeing no way out of it, he spoke in a low voice. “Okay, fine, yes. I have a crush on her. Happy?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Remus replied before asking, “What’s her name, and what’s she like?”

Harry allowed his mind to drift to his memories of Hermione over the past two years as he tried to come up with a way to describe the amazing girl.

After a moment of spacing out, he shook himself out of his thoughts and began speaking. “Well, her name is Hermione Granger. She’s probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. She’s a Muggle-born, but even the first time we met, on the way to the castle, she already knew more than some pure-bloods. She even fixed my glasses with a spell.” Harry took a breath before continuing. “But she’s not just smart—she’s brave, too. Well, she is in Gryffindor, so I guess that was obvious. She helped me smuggle a dragon out of here to protect Hagrid, went with me after the Philosopher’s Stone, and this year, the bravest thing she did was go to the library alone during the attacks, just to figure out what the monster was and clear my name.”

Without noticing, his blush returned, and he added, “And on top of all that, she’s super loyal. Even after the whole school turned on me, calling me the Heir of Slytherin, she wasn’t afraid to openly stand by my side.”

Remus had a strange smile on his face as he said softly, “What more could you ask for?”

Harry nodded, but it was a small, sad nod. Remus raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “Okay, so why the long face, Cub?”

Harry felt a small shot of warmth in his chest at the nickname, but he spoke with a sad tone. “For the last two years, all I’ve done is drag her into one dangerous situation after another. And the worst part is, while it was all my problems, I just relied on luck to get through. In reality, it was all the hard work Hermione did that saved me. Like this year—she ignored all the danger and just pushed on by herself to figure out it was a basilisk, while I was goofing around hoping it would just go away.”

Harry let out a heavy sigh before summarizing it all in one sentence: “I’m not worthy of her.”

Remus looked like he was about to say something, but then a fire lit up behind Harry’s eyes, and he said determinedly, “But I’m going to change that! I’ll work hard, and even though I’ll never be on her level, I’ll get to a point where I can at least say I’m worthy of her choosing me.”

Remus shook his head with a chuckle and commented, “You Potter men are all the same, it seems.”

Harry stopped mid-walk and looked at him with an odd expression. Harry had only ever been compared to his father in terms of looks, according to Hagrid, and in the worst way by Snape. To have one of his dad’s close friends say something like that stirred up many mixed emotions. But he managed to whisper absentmindedly, “I am?”

Remus laughed for a moment before speaking with a fond smile. “Oh yes. Your grandfather Charles once told us how he and your grandma Dorea were betrothed since their first year at Hogwarts, but Charles was too arrogant, and it made Dorea dislike him from the start. He only realized he was wrong in their third year, figured out he was in love with her at the end of their fourth, and only in their sixth year did he convince her to give him a chance.”

All Harry could do was whisper in wonder, “My… grandparents…” He had never heard a single word about either of his grandparents. There were one or two times he had wondered why Aunt Petunia never mentioned her parents, but he never dwelled on it. Now, hearing this story about his grandfather was something Harry hadn’t known he wanted, but he was happy to get.

Remus nodded. Harry hadn’t even noticed they were walking again until now, and by the time he did, they were in the hallway leading to the hospital wing. After a moment of silence, Remus spoke again. “Your dad wasn’t much different. James didn’t like Snape right from the start and began pranking him. Lily saw it, and to say she didn’t approve would be putting it mildly. James realized his feelings for Lily during our fourth year, but that was before he pulled his head out of his own ass. That happened in our fifth year, and even then, it was after Lily rejected him a few times. But by sixth year, James had matured, and by seventh year, they were dating and were Head Boy and Girl.”

Remus then, much to Harry’s surprise, began laughing deeply before managing to say, “Thinking about it now, you’re ahead of both of them, and your issue is quite the opposite of arrogance, I suppose.”

Harry wasn’t sure if that was meant as a compliment or an insult. Before he could figure it out, Remus spoke again, rubbing his chin. “Well, I suppose your situation is more like your dad’s, considering how similar Hermione is to Lily.” Harry probably looked shocked because Remus gave a single nod before explaining, “A genius Muggle-born who puts pure-bloods to shame, brave, unwavering, and fierce enough to kill with a single glance. Remind you of someone? Because I just described Lily.”

Harry blinked twice before saying aloud, “Wow.” He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that comparison.

As he said that, they entered the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was just pouring a potion down Penelope Clearwater’s throat. Once she finished, she looked up and saw them. “Mr. Potter, I did expect to see you here today. But is that Remus Lupin?”

The ragged man smiled and gave her a small bow. “It’s good to see you too, Madam Pomfrey.”

The woman huffed in irritation. “Says the man who stopped checking in for the last decade.”

Remus gave an awkward chuckle. “You might have heard I’ve been out of the country for the last few years.”

There was an awkward silence, which Harry decided to break. “Umm, you expected me?”

The woman huffed again, though this time with more fondness than irritation. “You’ve stayed with this girl for as long as I allowed each day…” She paused to give him a side-eye. “And a little over that time as well.”

Harry could feel his face heating up, and he reverted to his stuttering self. “I-I c-can e-ex-explain, umm…”

Before he could think of an excuse, the medical witch cut him off. “No need for explanations, dear. But I did expect you here today, so you may sit in your usual chair while I prepare the potion for her.”

Harry was about to sit down when a voice from behind him called, “Harry?”

He turned to see Penelope Clearwater blinking away her stiffness and slowly starting to move. Harry took a step closer to her. “Take it easy, Ms. Clearwater.”

She shook her head as much as she could with her stiff muscles and began speaking quickly. “It was a basilisk, Harry! Hermione—she saved me. I was about to look at it when she grabbed my cheek and forced me to look into the mirror instead. If she hadn’t, I—I would be dead, not petrified. And you killed it, with a sword?!”

Harry blinked twice at the older girl before raising his hands and saying calmly, “Take it easy, Ms. Clearwater. You’re still recovering.”

The Ravenclaw slowed her movements and smiled at him. “Please, call me Penny.”

Harry was confused but nodded. There was something he needed to know.

Before he could ask her anything, Madam Pomfrey returned from her office with a vial of odd-looking potion. Her eyes landed on Penny, and she immediately began speaking in a worried tone. “Oh dear, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

Penny smiled and replied, “A little stiff, but fine. Ummm… I do need to go to the restroom.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded to her, then looked at Hermione and Remus. She sighed and offered him the vial. “The entire contents, please. I trust you know how to handle it while I take care of Ms. Clearwater.”

Remus nodded, took the vial, and walked toward Hermione. With what looked like expert movements, he poured the potion into her mouth. Once the vial was empty, he stepped back and said, “Well, if Ms. Clearwater is any indication, your friend will be with us in a couple of minutes.”

And indeed, a couple of minutes later, Hermione’s eyes began to blink repeatedly. Her hands started to close and open slowly. She wiggled her toes and tried to move her neck before she seemed fully aware of her surroundings again.

Harry stepped closer to the bed. The moment he was near, Hermione jumped—at least, as much as she could—and hugged him. She didn’t care that her lips were next to his ear as she spoke loudly anyway. “Oh, Harry, thank you so much! Without you, I would’ve gone insane.”

A giggle from behind revealed that Penny had returned. Once she had their attention, she said sweetly, “Not only you, Hermione. Harry was the only one who came every day to update us on what was going on around the school.” Then her face turned sour. “Percy didn’t even visit once.”

Harry had an opinion about the man, one he usually kept to himself. Well, his old self would have. Now, as someone who wanted to help as many people as he could, he figured giving his opinion might help. So, a little hesitantly, he asked, “Umm, Penny, can I be honest with you?”

The blonde gave him a bright smile. “Please do, Harry.”

Harry took a deep breath, then looked into her blue eyes and said, “You can do a hell of a lot better than Percy. He’s an arrogant arse who only cares about his career. He’d sell you out in a heartbeat if it helped him get a Ministry position. You’re kind, smart, creative, and caring—none of which Percy gives a damn about.”

Penny blinked at him for a moment, then looked down. “Well, there was someone else I was interested in for a couple of years, but during the summer, Percy told me that the guy only wanted one thing from me. I was so grateful to him that I agreed to a date, and from there, it somehow just kept moving on.”

“Umm, was that guy a sixth-year from Hufflepuff? Umm… Timothy something?” Surprisingly, it was Hermione who asked. When Penny looked up and gave her a surprised nod, Hermione continued. “Well, I don’t like gossip, but I do live in the same dorm as Lavender and Parvati, so I overhear it sometimes. At the start of the year, they were talking about this Timothy and how he had a crush on some Ravenclaw girl, but then out of nowhere, she started dating a Gryffindor. They thought it was just like a romance novel.” She finished with a shrug.

Penny looked at her with distant eyes and whispered loud enough for them to hear, “So the stick-in-the-mud lied to me so I’d go on a date with him?”

Harry grumbled, “That man would sell his own mother if his boss at the Ministry told him to.”

Penny suddenly hugged both of them and said, “Thanks to both of you! I have a few people I need to talk to, the sooner the better. Hope I’ll see you both later.”

With that, the older girl left. Hermione turned to Harry with a smile. “I’m proud of you, Harry. You’re really making a difference by speaking up. Now, about this basilisk-killing thing…”

Harry blinked, feeling like he had whiplash from the subject change. “Umm, how do you know about that?”

Hermione smirked. “Oh, I heard everything that was going on most of the time. There were still times I was sleeping, but when I wasn’t, your voice was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one.”

“Oh,” was all Harry could manage, before his eyes widened comically and he asked loudly, “Wait! Everyone heard everything I said?!”

Chapter Text

Hermione laughed at Harry's expression, but before she could comment on it Remus came back and said mischievously, "Ah, so your 'friend' here is all good Harry?"

Harry shot Remus a quick glare at the way he said the word friend. Frowning slightly, Hermione tilted her head cautiously and asked with a guarded tone, "Who is this, Harry?"

Harry couldn't really blame her for doubting Remus, now could he. Harry would be the first one to admit he has the worst luck with meeting new people. Until recently that is.

Harry put a reassuring smile on his face to calm Hermione down before introducing them to each other, "Hermione, this is Remus Lupin; he was a friend of my parents. Remus, that's my best friend Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age."

Hermione's eyes widened and she blinked twice before asking unsurely, "Friends of your parents'?"

Remus stepped forward with a gentle smile on his face and said, "Actually I was more a friend of James', most of the time it looked like Lily was tolerating us."

Remus chuckled at his own joke, but it was cut short by another chuckle, this one was deeper. All three of them turned around to see the headmaster standing at the entrance to the medical wing with his usual grandfatherly smile on.

Harry did notice two things about the old man. The air around him was much less... lenient Harry supposed the right word would be. Maybe it was the effect of the lack of the half-moon glasses that usually adorn the old man's face.

Still, when Professor Dumbledore spoke his voice was warm and kind as ever, "I do recall you and your friends causing Ms. Evans a great amount of trouble in your first four years. It was during the fifth when you were appointed prefect along with her that she began to change her mind about you."

Remus's face flushed for a moment before he seemed to remember where he was and his usual gentle smile spread on his lips as he spoke, "James did have an obsession with her since the first year, and we were too immature at the time to do anything other than pranks."

Dumbledore's smile seemed to grow a little wistful as he said, "Ah, the foolishness of youth is always amusing to reminisce about." His eyes then moved to Hermione, "It's good to see you are back to good health Miss Granger."

Hermione immediately stood up straight to her full height, which was about the same as Harry's before saying with the most grateful tone, "Thank you headmaster."

Harry's eyes widened when the powerful wizard bowed his head and said gravely, "It is I who owe you an apology Ms. Granger."

Hermione squeaked, a look of horror passing through her face before she shook her head so fast her usually bushy hair was flying in every direction and covering her face while saying almost too fast to understand, "What? No! You don't owe me anything sir! I mean... I... Why would you..."

Harry smiled a little fondly. Hermione was always one to put figures of authority on a pedestal, especially the headmaster. In her eyes the old man could do nothing wrong, to be fair it seemed to be the common sentiment in the wizarding world.

Harry took a step closer and put a hand on her shoulder trying to ground her. She squealed again and looked at Harry, still with frantic eyes. Harry gave her a comforting smile, at least he hoped it was, and said, "Let's hear what he has to say."

The headmaster bowed his head again and said respectfully, "Thank you Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger, I do owe you an apology as I gave one to all the other victims. Your safety is my responsibility, and this year more so than the previous one I have failed miserably."

"That's not true Professor. You couldn't have known..."

Hermione began protesting, but her jaw clicked shut when Dumbledore raised his hand gently. The headmaster's smile dipped a little as he spoke, "None of us are infallible, not even me Ms. Granger. I made a great many mistakes in my long life, and it has been said that the greater the man the greater the mistake. I might have not known of the basilisk roaming around the school, but it was my duty to make sure I remain in the school to protect my students to the best of my ability. And then there is the matter Mr. Potter pointed out to me."

Hermione's eyes widened again, and she kept staring between Harry and Dumbledore. It took her a moment before she managed to ask, "Harry pointed something out to you?"

Harry tried not to get hurt by the shock in her tone. He couldn't really blame her, after all Harry spent the last two years relying on either what one of the teachers told him, or what Hermione managed to find herself in the library.

Dumbledore gave the bushy haired pre-teen a nod and added cheerfully, "I believe you will find yourself quite proud of Mr. Potter's growth during your absence." His cheerfulness faded into pure remorse as he informed, "Mr. Potter informed me earlier today there was a method that we could have used earlier in order to awaken all of the victims and in my blindness, I have missed it, and it cost you all greatly."

Hermione shuffled her feet a little and asked timidly, "Umm, sir, can I ask a question?"

The headmaster chuckled, "Of course, it is a school after all."

Harry felt a little bad for the old man trying to make a joke so he forced out a laugh, which seemed to actually cheer the professor up. Hermione's timidness gave way to her curiosity and she asked, "How could Harry find a solution you couldn't, sir?"

Harry frowned and noticed Remus biting his lips. He turned to Hermione and said with a little annoyance, "Oi. You know, you might be my best friend, but even for you that's rude."

Hermione blushed, finally noticing what she was saying and immediately began to apologize, "Oh Harry, I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that, it's just..."

Harry did wonder what she was about to say, but he would never know as Professor Dumbledore interrupted her, "Like I said, and it's important you remember, not even I am infallible. I have made the mistake of accepting bad advice without exploring any further and it cost my students dearly." His smile returned in full force as he said, "Thankfully even an old man like me can learn new things and change."

Harry frowned a little. Those last words seemed to be aimed at him. Was the headmaster trying to say something in regard to their conversation in his office? A glance toward Remus confirmed he was thinking the same.

Hermione was biting her lip, though Harry thought it had more to do with her wanting to ask more questions than anything else. Still, the way the Professor spoke about the matter seemed to indicate he wouldn't be saying anymore. Not that this would stop Harry from giving her the full details later.

The headmaster then turned to Remus and passed him a piece of parchment. Remus, confused, took the parchment and unfolded it. Harry watched as Remus's eyes widened and his gaze snapped to Dumbledore, and he asked in a bewildered tone, "What is this?"

The headmaster kept his smile as he answered, "Exactly what it reads. I have transferred my position as Mr. Potter's magical guardian to you."

Hermione's eyes somehow managed to grow even wider, almost popping out of their sockets. Even Harry was surprised and just had to ask, "Why?"

The old man's face twitched a little and his eyes were filled with sadness and pain as he said, "I have wronged you for far too long regarding this position Mr. Potter. I have no right to call myself a guardian, and now that Remus here is back I feel I could trust him to do what is best for you."

Harry was touched. He still wasn't ready to completely forgive and forget all the pain and abuse he had to suffer because of the old man, but it was clear to see the powerful wizard took what he said to heart and was trying to do better.

Remus sighed as he said sadly, "As much as I would like to believe it, I don't have the money, or even a house, as you know Albus."

The smile on the aged wizard's face didn't falter as he said, "Might I suggest a visit to Gringotts after the ride on the express?"

Remus eyed the headmaster for a moment before letting out a sigh, "Fine." He then turned to Harry and with his gentle smile and said, "I guess I will see you in a couple of days at the station. Until then try to stay out of trouble." He ended teasingly, then he turned his sharp eyes to Hermione and said, "I hope we will meet again soon Ms. Granger."

Hermione startled a little and said politely, "Oh, so do I Mr. Lupin."

The headmaster clapped his hands once and said, "Splendid. Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, I shall see you both in tomorrow's ceremony. Remus allow me to walk you to the gates, I have a matter I wish to discuss with you."

Remus shrugged, "Of course Albus." He shot one last smile at Harry and Hermione before leaving with Dumbledore.

Hermione turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow, "It seems I still missed a lot, especially when it comes to you."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck while chuckling nervously. Of course, in that moment Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and asked sternly, "You are still here? Out with the two of you."

Without a moment's hesitation both of them replied as one, "Yes ma'am," and quickly walked out of the infirmary.

As they walked down the halls of Hogwarts back toward their common room Hermione turned to Harry and demanded, "Spill it Potter."

Harry sighed and asked aloud, "Where should I begin?"

Hermione put a finger under her chin and said her thoughts aloud, "I'm still curious about what the headmaster missed that you found."

Harry shrugged, that really was the lesser of all evils to talk about. "Oh, I found out Hogwarts could have purchased already made potions to counter the effects of the Basilisk. But Snape..." Harry put as much venom as possible into the name, "told the headmaster he is the only one capable of creating a guaranteed potion in such short amount of time."

Hermione looked uncomfortable. Probably her heart is torn between her blind belief in authority figures and the price of Snape's arrogance to her. Eventually she did speak in a small voice, "Well he isn't wrong I guess."

Harry snorted before saying, "Of course not. He just didn't mention that there is an already made solution. I will bet my broom that if one of his snakes was in those beds he would demand from the headmaster to buy the potion."

Hermione sighed, but didn't say anything else, instead she changed the subject, "And what was it with the headmaster and Mr. Lupin?"

Harry knew this was coming. He took a deep breath and began to tell her about starting to spend more time in the library, about learning more of his parents and their friends through the records. How he read about the headmaster's past.

Hermione was delighted to hear about her friend's new habits of studying, he could see the gears in her eyes were already turning and planning a lot of trips to the library for the both of them. Not that Harry minded, to have some private time with Hermione would always be a win.

Her delight was quickly turned into dread when she heard about the conversation he had at the Headmaster's office earlier today.

"Have you lost your mind Harry?! What if the headmaster would have expelled you?" Hermione shrieked.

Harry shrugged, "I wouldn't have to stop whatever it is that tries to kill me the next year." Hermione shot him a withering glare and Harry raised his hands in a placating manner and said, "I would of course make sure to stay in touch with my best friend, can't let you have all the magical fun."

Harry smiled at his own confidence boost. A couple of months ago he would never say something like that. Not even to Hermione, but now...

"Harry." Harry stopped when he heard Hermione's small voice calling out to him.

He turned to see her standing a few steps back, her head bowed and her hair shadowing her eyes. He took a few steps closer and asked carefully, "Hermione."

She raised her vulnerable eyes to lock with his and she asked, "You keep calling me your best friend, but isn't it Ron?"

Harry smiled at her and said, his voice full of conviction, "When I finally opened my eyes, I saw more than books in a new light, I saw my whole life. And the truth is, you always were my best friend Hermione, and you always will."

"Oh, Harry!" After hearing it he had no time to react before Hermione was wrapped tightly around him, giving him one of her tight hugs. Harry could feel his robe getting wet, before he could ask Hermione spoke again, her voice filled with happiness, "You are my best friend too Harry."

Harry couldn't stop the wild smile that spread across his lips as he hugged her back.

After a long moment Harry was startled when Hermione jumped out of his arms and exclaimed, "Oh Merlin, I completely forgot. I must have a mountain of homework to catch up on." She began to walk faster toward the common room while calling over her shoulder, "I will need your notes Harry."

Harry's smile thinned a bit, while his study did improve it didn't happen until recently, and even then he spent most of that improvement on his trips to the library. He had a strong feeling Hermione was going to give him a long lecture in the near future.

With a small amount of apprehension he began following Hermione.

Chapter Text

Harry was sitting next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. It was time for the closing ceremony of the year.

Usually in these things the headmaster gives some speech about how the past year was, awards the quidditch cup and then the house cup. Which was usually Slytherin by what the older students like Fred and George said, and with a glance to the hourglasses in the corner of the room with the points total, it seems obvious the green was taking all other three colors by a lot again.

Now that Harry thinks about it, Snape does have a superiority complex and he hates to lose no matter what. So it would make sense that he is going around taking points off other houses while awarding points only to his house so he could be sure his house will win each year.

Harry sighed, another thing the headmaster is blind to inside his own school, how can't he see that this only contributes to the rivalry between all the houses, and if someone wants to they can easily use that hostile rivalry to infiltrate this school easily.

Harry will have to point it out to Dumbledore another day, after yesterday he is sure the old man has enough on his mind.

Hermione seemed to notice something was on his mind and asked, "Hey Harry, is everything okay?"

Before Harry could answer someone familiar ran into the hall and quickly sat on the other side of Harry. The red-head boy immediately began looking for food while complaining, "Oi mate, why didn't you wake me up? I'm almost late."

Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes while answering calmly, "I tried..." A lie. "You were snoring so loudly that... well." True, even last night when he and Hermione finished studying he was already sleeping and snoring so loudly Harry had a hard time falling asleep.

Ron shrugged and said with disinterest, "Whatever. As long as I'm in time for the food." He kept looking around before anger began seeping into his voice, "Where the bloody hell is the food?"

Hermione didn't hold back and did roll her eyes as she answered him with an irritated tone, "Honestly Ronald, you should know the food only appears after the headmaster finishes his speech."

Ron scowled toward Hermione and was about to start one of their usual bickering. Harry had no patience for it right now so he quickly spoke up, "Look, the headmaster is about to start."

Both his friends turned to the head table and saw that indeed Professor Dumbledore stood up, his glasses were still missing and his grandfatherly smile still in place as he began speaking, "Another year passed, and I'm glad to see all our students are healthy and well after such a troubling year. Most of you must have noticed that Professor Lockhart is missing from our usual feast, shortly I shall make an announcement that shall shed light on his absence and the events that transpired this year. Shortly after the feast begins your heads of houses shall pass letters, I wish your parents to read during the summer."

That surprised Harry. Last year there was no letter in the closing ceremony. Looking down the table he saw the confused murmurs of the higher years as well, meaning that as far as any student knew nothing like that happened before. Harry began to suspect what the old wizard had planned.

The headmaster clapped his hands a couple of times to quiet the hall. Once all the attention was back to him he spoke again, "I'm sure everything will be understood soon enough, but first our annual awards." The Slytherin table seemed to puff in anticipation, Draco Malfoy specifically had a shit-eating smirk on his face, but that was when the headmaster's eyes stopped twinkling and he said seriously, "As you all know I made it a policy to not intervene in the points taken or awarded by the professors, trusting their professionalism to uphold one of Hogwarts' most sacred traditions."

His eyes scanned the professors, all of whom looked confused themselves as to where this was going, his eyes lingered for a moment longer on Snape, the man did look paler but otherwise no emotion crossed his face.

The headmaster then moved his stare toward the student body when he said, "Some of you might have noticed I had, should we say, free time this year and a chance to review the points after a certain someone..." His eyes lingered on Harry for a brief moment, "pointed out the odds of the results these last years keep producing."

With a heavy sigh the powerful wizard said, "What I found disappointed me greatly. I admit the fault is lying with me for neglecting my duties to the school for so long. As I looked through the records I found that a certain house was awarded points for simply arriving to a class while students of other houses lost the same points for arriving early, for one example."

"I spent all of last night going through this year's records and took it upon myself to declare all points taken and awarded without just reason null and void." He clapped his hands once again, letting the sound echo in the great hall dramatically as he said, "Hogwarts please fix the points accordingly."

Everyone turned as one toward the hourglasses, watching as red, yellow and blue stones began to fall into their matching hourglasses, while green kept being sucked away.

By the time the stones began to reach the finish line green and red were already pretty evenly matched while the yellow and blue kept dropping the few stones left in. It took only a moment for the last, blue, stone to fall into place.

With a smile on his face, and the house award in his hands Dumbledore announced, "The winner of this year's house award is the house of the clever, Ravenclaw!"

There was stunned silence for a moment, even the blue house was in complete shock. Everyone expected that if not Slytherin than Gryffindor would win the house award, like last year. Though to Harry that made sense. Ravenclaws should get points for always knowing the answers, and always handing in their homework; without Snape cutting their points for the sake of his winning it seems to be the fair result.

When Dumbledore handed the award to Professor Flitwick three quarters of the students began to cheer as loudly as possible.

Ravenclaw was obviously overjoyed. High fiving and jumping in their seats, all with proud smiles on their faces.

Hufflepuff were cheering for their ally in the, often overlooked houses club; they were happy it wasn't one of the 'main' houses that won this year. Again, proving the point Harry considered earlier.

Gryffindor would always cheer for when Slytherin loses.

Slytherin was the only table that wasn't cheering at all. Most of the students looked slightly disappointed, but otherwise unbothered by the change. Then there was the expected reaction of Malfoy who was seething in his place and glaring daggers. His two bodyguards seemed to be confused as usual. What surprised Harry was the blonde girl and her group of friends that looked around his age smirking.

The headmaster then turned back to the student body and once again proclaimed dramatically, "And the Quidditch cup this year is awarded to Gryffindor!"

Harry was on his feet and cheering the loudest along with his teammates as Professor McGonagall collected the award. Even Hermione, while still sitting, had a fond smile on her face and clapped enthusiastically.

After all the noise died down the headmaster cleared his throat and spoke again, "Usually at this point I would wish you to have a good feast." Ron perked up hearing something to do with food, but the headmaster kept talking, "This year though, I believe I owe all of you an explanation for all that happened in this school since Halloween."

The entire student body perked up and looked with interest toward the headmaster. Harry could feel the stare of a few students passing him for a moment, but ignored them and elected to listen to what the old wizard would tell everyone.

The headmaster's usual calm and cheerful face was now grim and pained, "Since this Halloween many cases of petrification happened around the school. This was caused by a magical beast that roamed the school's pipes. This creature resided for years in the fabled chamber of secrets and was let out by a dark artifact that someone managed to sneak inside the school with one of the students at the beginning of the year. The creature that caused all the troubles this year was a 60-foot basilisk."

As soon as the words left his lips the students raised in uproar.

"60-feet?!" A student from Ravenclaw squeaked.

"We need to call the aurors!" Someone from Hufflepuff screamed.

"No, we need the magical creature department." Argued a fellow housemate.

"Do you think any of them can take on something like that? And do you want to be anywhere near when they do?" A Slytherin challenged everyone.

People kept shouting until the headmaster shouted, "Silence!" Gaining the attention of everyone in a mere second. The powerful wizard cleared his throat once again, "I assure you there is no reason for worry, the creature has already been slain a week ago..." All the students let out a sigh of relief while many stared at the headmaster with new admiration in their eyes, but that was when he added, "By none other than Harry Potter."

Harry paled as all eyes moved to him, and of course the shouting started immediately.

Someone from Slytherin, and Harry could guess who, screamed, "Lies! There is no way a half-blood would be able to do it."

Someone from Ravenclaw, which usually keep to themselves but seems like they are opening up with the victory this year, asked loudly, "What spell did you use?"

And there were many more shouts of questions, some kept denying it was possible and so on. At some point everything blended together in Harry's ears and he just dropped his head on the table.

Finally the mercy came when the headmaster clapped twice again and said in a raised voice, "Mr. Potter please join me up here."

Harry raised his head to glare at the headmaster for a moment before reluctantly standing up and dragging himself toward the podium the headmaster stood at.

Once Harry stood next to the Professor, he put a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "While it's my duty to keep my students safe, this year I have failed. Fortunately, Mr. Potter was able to pick up the slack. While he was accused of being responsible for the attacks..." Many of the students looked away uncomfortably, "...he and his friends worked tirelessly to solve the mystery that plagued our school. It was a week ago when a student had been kidnapped by the creature into the chamber of secrets, and Mr. Potter, using Ms. Granger's research, found the entrance to the chamber of secrets."

The headmaster then bowed his head in slight shame as he said the next part, "Make no mistake, Mr. Potter had no intention of confronting the creature, his first instinct was to get Professor Lockhart and have him deal with the situation. Alas, Gilderoy chose to turn on his students when they were deep in the chamber of secrets and tried to cast a memory charm on them that backfired on him and now, he resides in St. Mungo's. Mr. Potter with no other choice moved forward and confronted the Basilisk, as few of you would know no magic can penetrate the scales of this creature."

The old man reached under the podium and pulled out something Harry was very familiar with, even if he only saw it once before in his life.

The headmaster presented the item to the hall and said, "In his time of need as the legend said, the sword of Gryffindor answered the call of a true Gryffindor. Mr. Potter used this blade to kill the Basilisk once and for all."

There were still stares of disbelief aimed at him, but now there were more awe looks, and of course then there was Malfoy and Snape who were grinding their teeth audibly.

The headmaster then put the sword away and pulled out something else. Something that looked like an award and declared, "For these acts of heroism I bestow upon Harry Potter the Award of Special Services to be displayed in Hogwarts' trophy case for decades to come. Please join me in congratulating the young man."

Dumbfounded, Harry accepted the award to the cheers and applause of almost the entire school body. Even most of the Slytherin table was clapping for him, though not as enthusiastically as everyone else. Harry was surprised to see the teachers behind him standing and clapping as well, that's of course except Snape who was sulking in his seat.

Harry's eyes then caught sight of Hermione, and he could feel himself on cloud nine, walking through the clouds and basking in the warmth of her smile, all because he could see the pride shining bright in Hermione's eyes as she smiled at him.

Chapter Text

Harry was looking through the window at the students walking around the station and gathering their things to get on the train and go home.

The sun was high in the sky illuminating the entire station and reflecting off so many objects the students were carrying that it was hard for him to recognize them.

Just as he sighed and was about to give up on looking out the window, the door of the compartment he was sitting in opened.

Harry turned his head to see his best friend walking inside, or more like stumbling inside while struggling with her heavy luggage. He quickly jumped from his seat and ran to her side.

Hermione looked at him wide eyed and Harry shot her a smile in return and said confidently, "Let me handle this."

Hermione blinked twice before smiling as she said brightly, "Sure. Thanks, Harry."

Harry could just keep smiling as she let go of her suitcase and went toward the bench where he was sitting a moment ago with a book under her arm.

Harry turned his head back toward the luggage and pulled it inside, immediately his eyes bulged from the amount of force he had to apply to drag it barely a centimeter inside.

He considered asking for help for a moment before deciding to take a deep breath and put his back into it. Hauling the suitcase into the space right next to his own.

It took him a couple of tries before he finally managed to get Hermione's luggage in place, which caused him to drop back to his seat, panting.

Hermione glanced at him while reading her book, a small smirk on her face as she asked, "Are you doing well there Harry?"

Harry raised a thumb at her and said between breaths, "Just... Great." Hermione's eyes returned to the book, the smirk still on her face, but Harry had to ask, and he did once his breathing was under control, "What did you pack, the entire Hogwarts library?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said with what she probably thought was an exasperated tone, though to Harry it sounded more like amused, "Oh honestly Harry, how could I do that?"

Harry noticed she didn't actually answer his question, but before he could point it out she changed the subject, "Where is Ronald? I thought he would be here by the time I would catch up."

Harry leaned back and shrugged, "He is probably with Fred and George, still helping Ginny settle. The twins told me they would probably spend the ride with her too, but they would send Ron to sit with us at some point."

Hermione shrugged as if she didn't have a single care and commented, "Well at least I will be able to read in peace until then."

Huh, that was not something Hermione ever said before, though he did notice that since their conversation about her being his best friend she was far more open and honest with him. Which on occasion was a little hurtful. He raised an eyebrow at her, "And where were you?"

"Huh? Oh, I was catching up with Daphne about some project we wanted to talk about during the summer break," Hermione replied absently, her eyes locked on the page in front of her.

Daphne... Daphne... Why does the name not ring any bells with Harry? It meant she probably isn't in Gryffindor. It does cut down the options, but barely.

He was about to ask when the door of the compartment opened again. Harry sighed mentally and turned his head, expecting to see Ron entering.

Harry was surprised however when instead of Ron two girls stood at the door. One was someone he recognized from their year. She had long, red hair. She was about Hermione's height, though her figure was less lean and more... mature. Her eyes were bright green, and her smile was small and shy.

Next to her stood someone that was obviously older than the other three, she was tall, with an athletic body. What really caught Harry's eye was her short, bright pink hair. Harry felt like he would remember someone with such a distinguished trait walking around the school. Still, the older girl had a wide smile on her face and she looked excited.

Both girls were wearing Hufflepuff robes and ties, so it was easy to know which house they belonged to, but Harry was a little ashamed admitting he had no idea what their names were. Still, he smiled sincerely back at them and said, "Hi."

The older girl skipped a step forward and said cheerfully, "Wotcher Potter. The name's Tonks. I'm a sixth year badger."

Okay so now Harry knows who the pink haired girl was, but... before he could wonder for too long Hermione closed her book and spoke, "Hello, Susan."

The red-head flinched a little and her smile faded off as she said shyly, "Ummm, Hi Hermione."

Harry looked at Hermione, wondering why she greeted the girl with such a steely voice, so he asked a little carefully, "You know each other?"

Hermione nodded, her face blank from all emotions as she responded, "Yes. I have met Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass in the library last year. We studied together for a few months. Until Susan here took issue with me being your friend."

Susan looked down and Harry thought he saw tears shining in her eyes, but Tonks put a comforting hand on her shoulder and still with a smile said, "Okay, let's cool down. That's why we are here after all. We wanted to apologize."

"Oh? Is that right?" Hermione questioned still with the same steely voice. Harry began to wonder why she was so mad, even though he wasn't, and this entire thing was about him to begin with!

Tonks's smile turned a little sheepish as she tried to explain, "You know us 'Puffs, we're always told the most important thing is loyalty. But it has its flaws as well, when one of your classmates is deadset on something it's your duty to back him up as a loyal member of the house... and considering the house rivalry..."

"Tonks please stop." The older girl was cut off by her housemate, who seemed to gather all her courage and spoke, "I don't need excuses, I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have blamed Harry for just some rumors even if Ernie pushed the idea."

The name seemed to spark something in Hermione's eyes as she asked, her voice far warmer than before, "As in the Ernie you have a crush on?"

Susan's face went bright red and she yelped, "Hermione!" Tonks began to chuckle while Susan muttered under her breath, "Not like I still like him after this year, he's just an asshole."

Hermione smiled at Susan and said fondly, "Well I'm glad you are back to yourself Susan. Me and Daphne missed you."

Susan smiled back, causing Tonks to clap her hands and say cheerfully, "You see all our problems are caused by men. They suck, I would know. We should just stay with each other there is no better company than that of another witch."

Her last remark caused both the girls to flush for some reason while Harry felt insulted, but wasn't sure if he should point out he was right there and he was a guy.

Susan's face returned to its normal color and she smirked at Hermione before saying mischievously, "Well if you are talking about my crush, maybe we should talk about... Mmm"

Susan was forced to stop talking by the hand Hermione was pushing onto her lips, her face somehow even redder than before. Tonks doubled over with laughter. Harry just kept looking around dumbfounded, while electing to keep his silence until he was sure what situation he was in.

Tonks wiped a tear off her eye before saying happily, "You know, you kids are more fun than most people I hang out with. So how about it Harry, Hermione, care if we tag along for a little longer?"

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before turning back to the two other girls with them and saying in unison, "Of course."

WOY WOY WOY

Harry was really enjoying sitting with the group of girls he found himself spending the last few hours with.

Hermione, he already knew how to hang around with, but even then, he felt like he was seeing a new side of her right now. She was laughing and enjoying herself as if she was just told the library just removed the checkout limit. He never thought she could glow this brightly without a book in her hand, and that just made the warm feeling he got when looking at her all the stronger.

Once Susan opened up and got over her shy stage, she was surprisingly assertive, charismatic and friendly. From Harry's experience with friendships maybe a little over-friendly, but he got used to it eventually. It surprised Harry to see how competitive the girl was, she would cheer like there is no tomorrow when she won and throw a small, amusing tantrum when she lost.

The red-head even had a mischievous side, though hers paled when compared to Tonks's. The girl was only a step behind the Weasley twins, the only reason no one ever heard of her stories is because they would never be linked to her, as apparently she was a sort of a shapeshifter. Which was equally cool and creepy in Harry's eyes, but then again he once used a Polyjuice potion to change his appearance so who was he to judge.

He also learned that Tonks was her actual last name and very few knew what was her first, those who knew and dared to say it out loud paid a dear price, something that Susan confirmed with a hunted look. Harry made sure to note to himself never to learn her first name so he could avoid such a scenario.

They were laughing when the door opened and Ron entered, he didn't even look around the compartment before beginning to whine, "I can't believe Percy forced me to look after Ginny until now, even Fred and George agreed to stay. Can you believe it mate?" He stopped when he saw Susan and Tonks before asking dumbly, "Umm, who are the chicks?"

Harry and Hermione frowned in disapproval. Susan blushed and looked away, back to her shy phase. Tonks's smile thinned a little, but she kept her cheerfulness as she stood up, took Susan's hand and said, "Well we should go back to our own groups, so see ya around Harry, Hermione."

Before either of them even had time to react the girls closed the compartment door behind them.

Ron took their seat and asked as oblivious as ever, "What's with them?"

"Honestly, Ronald." Hermione rolled her eyes and opened the book she abandoned when the girls got in. Without another word she went back to reading.

Harry let out a breath and closed his eyes while leaning backwards, it was a good time to take a nap.

WoY WoY WoY

Harry helped Hermione drag her luggage to the platform where he saw her parents waiting for her with a cart waiting.

He turned to smile at her and found her standing very close to him with narrow eyes, in a low voice so just the two of them could hear she asked, "You told anyone about your new summer arrangement?"

Harry shook his head and said with the same tone, "Just you, so please don't tell anyone."

Hermione gasped in offense, "You know I would never betray you like that Harry."

Harry could just chuckle, though in his heart he felt that strong warmth again, "I was just pulling your leg Hermione."

The girl pouted cutely for a moment before narrowing her eyes again and said firmly, "You better write me a lot this summer."

"I will do my best," Harry promised cheerfully.

Hermione smiled widely before looking back at her parents who made a motion for her to join them. Hermione turned back to Harry, and he could see she seemed to struggle with something before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to him.

Before Harry could even realize what was happening, he felt warmth spreading across his cheek. Hermione's face was red as she turned around, picked her luggage and began running toward her parents while calling over her shoulder, "I will be waiting, bye Harry."

Harry couldn't even muster a response, all he could do was stand there and hold the cheek Hermione just kissed. His heart skipped another beat remembering that moment.

He was shaken out of his daze when Hedwig landed on his shoulder and barked with outstretched leg. Harry saw a letter attached to it and took it off her, his eyes widened when he saw what was written there. 'Waiting for you on the other side of the barrier, better avoiding certain people. Remus'.

Harry looked around and saw Ron coming out of the train accompanied by his twin brothers, Percy and Ginny, when he heard the high voice of Molly he knew it was time to book it.

Without a second thought, he grabbed his own cart and began running toward the barrier while keeping his head down to avoid being noticed by anyone with red hair.

Once he was past the barrier he found himself more relaxed as he looked around until... A tall man with brown hair, a scar on his cheek wearing a classic brown suit stood not too far from the barrier with a gentle smile as he looked at Harry.

Harry pushed his cart in his direction and called out, "Remus."

The older man smiled and returned the greeting, "It's good to see you again Harry." He looked over Harry's shoulder and waved. Harry turned to see Hermione and her parents waving back toward the man before moving on to the exit of the station.

Harry looked back with a confused look at Remus who chuckled and said, "I had the pleasure of meeting Dan and Emma earlier and helped them get passed the barrier. It was a pleasure seeing Ms. Granger as well."

Hermione did look a little surprised seeing her parents on the platform now that Harry thinks about it. Before he could say anything in return a familiar shout came, "Boy!"

Harry's entire body stiffened after a lifetime of reflexes when hearing his uncle's voice, especially when he was so angry. Harry turned to see the fat man walking toward them with a fist raised and red face.

Vernon, not noticing all the attention drawn to him thanks to his yells went on, "You dare to make me wait here for your ungrateful ass, I will teach you a lesson when we get home."

Harry was pushed back and Remus took a step forward his smile gone, replaced by a scowl his voice dry as he asked, "Will you now Mr. Dursley."

Vernon froze in place his scowl deepened, "Who are you to protect that little freak?"

Remus smirked at the man, "I'm one of James's friends, and the one the court decided to transfer the care of Harry to after they found out about your... misconduct."

Vernon's face turned purple as he shouted back, "If you are that deadbeat's friend where were you when the little freak was forced on us?"

Remus's smirk faded into a strained smile as he replied, "I was unable to claim guardianship because of your status as Harry's first degree family, it of course changed after what Harry had to suffer through the years came to their attention." Then his voice became threatening, "And never let me hear you besmirch the name of a national hero who gave his life for this country like James did."

Vernon's fist raised higher and the purple color became even deeper, "You dare to insult my family? All we did was teach the ungrateful freak the place his kind should accept in the world, and neither you nor..."

The fat man choked on his next words when Remus casually drew his wand. The people around just looked confused as to why a piece of random wood caused the enraged man to stop screaming and turned his skin from purple to white.

A moment later Vernon collected himself and with a smirk said loudly, "You can't fool me you freak; you are not allowed to use that thing."

Again the people that were drawn to watch the interaction because of his uncle's loud voice were confused as to how someone was supposed to use a wood stick in a way that would be forbidden. Harry wanted to laugh as his uncle made a fool of himself. Without aunt Petunia to yank his leash in public, the fat man was exposing more of his dirty laundry due to his temper than Remus did.

Remus's return smirk was the sharpest he ever saw and his words were even more cutting, "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not a schoolboy, which means there is nothing stopping me from doing something like Hagrid did. I'm sure you remember the lovely fellow."

Vernon's face turned even paler than before and he took a step back, his voice stuttering. Remus's eyes narrowed and he said sharply, "Now I believe you embarrassed yourself quite enough for one day. Harry is coming with me and will never set foot in your foul home again, so I suggest. You leave." The last two words were spoken with an odd growl Harry couldn't quite recognize.

Vernon turned and began running away. The people around seeing the show was over began to disperse as well. Though Harry did catch a couple of people saying something about reporting what they heard to the police.

Remus looked down at Harry with his gentle smile again and put his wand away while saying, "I believe we should leave as well, Harry."

Harry could only nod and followed the kind man out of the station. And for the first time in his life Harry didn't feel fear when he heard those words coming at the end of a day that he needed to go back home.

Chapter Text

Harry was still a little euphoric from the humiliation his Uncle just suffered thanks to Remus. It might be petty, but Harry can't deny he immensely enjoyed Vernon's anger, and then horror. Harry is only human and seeing his tormentor getting a small dose of his own medicine did bring him some measure of glee.

As they kept walking past the station entrance and the bus stations Harry began to feel confusion overtaking him, he turned to Remus and asked, "Umm... Where exactly are we going?"

Remus gave Harry the smile the young boy had come to associate with the older man and said, "Gringotts of course."

Harry tilted his head, still confused, "I don't get it. I thought we at least would stop at your house to drop my luggage."

Remus chuckled nervously, "Well you see I'm a little short of money and houses, I've been living in the Leaky Cauldron since I came back to the country. I've kind of hoped this trip to the bank will supply us with more options."

Harry nodded, it would be hard to train and all those things in the Leaky Cauldron, plus he much preferred to keep his training a secret for now. After all Tom is still out there, and probably planning something right now, it won't do for some death eater like Malfoy to catch wind of this and inform his master.

That was when something else occurred to Harry and he asked, "We missed the bus stations, how are we going to reach Diagon Alley?"

Remus shrugged, "I would have liked to head toward the apparition spot, and just do that. If it was just the two of us it would have been easy, but I rather not do it while we still carry around all your things."

That word, apparition, it sounded familiar to Harry but he couldn't put his finger on where he saw it before. "Apparition?" He eventually asked.

Remus smiled kindly at him and replied, "A lesson for another day Harry. Ah we are here."

Harry looked around, they just stopped on the curve of what looked like an ordinary empty street. There were a few houses around, but considering the silence around them they were either at work or asleep.

Still Harry couldn't understand what they were doing here. "What now?" Harry asked with a frown.

Remus simply smirked and raised his wand like an ordinary man would raise his hand to call a passing taxi.

What happened next Harry could never have anticipated. A two story, large, purple bus came out of nowhere, at a speed that made it look like a purple blur for a moment. It then stopped right in front of them with a high screech of its wheels.

Harry was so surprised he jumped backward, forgetting about his cart and tripping because of it. A moment later Harry stared up at the bus as he was sitting on the floor, his bum stinging.

The doors of the bus opened and a tall man, in his mid 20's exited the bus with a smile on his face. He tilted his purple, uniformed hat and said with a wide smile, "The name is Stan. Welcome to the Knight bus, where are you traveling today?"

Remus smiled at the man and answered calmly, "Diagon Alley please."

Stan nodded enthusiastically and responded with, "That will be two Sickles."

Remus nodded and reached into his jacket to pull out three silver coins. He dropped them into the man's hand and turned to Harry.

Harry grabbed the hand Remus offered him and soon was on his feet. Stan put away the coins with, if it was possible, a larger smile and began walking toward Harry's cart saying, "Let me help you get that in."

Stan then stopped right next to Harry and said in the same cheerful voice, "Has anyone ever told you, you look similar to Harry Potter?"

"Umm..." Okay, so this man wasn't the sharpest tool in the drawer apparently. But Harry didn't exactly want people to recognize him in the street so he took the man's stupidity as a gift and responded with a cautious, "No."

Stan shrugged and began pulling his cart into the bus. Harry wasn't sure if he should sigh in relief or face palm.

Harry followed Remus into the bus and took a seat next to the older man. Harry was even more confused when the ragged man leaned backwards into his seat as much as possible, his hands clenching at the sides of said seat.

Seeing the confused look on Harry's face Remus only smirked in return. Before Harry could question him, Stan closed back the doors of the bus with a yell of, "Erl, Diagon Alley!"

The short, old man behind the wheel of the bus screamed back, "Diagon Alley!"

Harry barely had time to wonder what was going on around him before he felt the bus lurching forward, simultaneously he felt like someone punched him in the gut and pulled him backwards, the only thing stopping his fall was the back of his seat.

The bus turned sharply; Harry could tell by the sensation as if someone was pinching his entire skin in the direction of the turn.

He wasn't sure how long he was treated like some doll in a hurricane, but when the bus finally came to a stop all Harry could do was double over and take deep breaths to stop himself from throwing up.

Harry hates, really hates, magical transportation. The only one he is willing to use from now on is the broom.

Remus stood up with an amused chuckle and asked, "Are you coming Harry?"

Harry raised his head to glare at the older man before taking another deep breath so he could stand up without falling over.

The moment they stepped off the bus with his luggage, with another purple blur, the bus was gone.

Harry shook off whatever just happened and hoped it would never happen again. Without a word Harry followed Remus through the barrier into Diagon Alley. They stopped in the Leaky Cauldron to drop his luggage in Remus's room before making their way toward the bank.

As they walked down the street Harry noticed there weren't many people around, probably the least he had seen in the past two years. Then again, he could assume it's because today was the day all the kids returned from Hogwarts and the parents are either on the platform picking them up or at their home waiting.

Remus led the way into the main hall of Gringotts and just like outside on the street, there weren't many people inside either.

The usual line to the teller only had a couple of people in it, while all the other goblins around them seemed to busy themselves with their work and ignored all wizards and witches.

They had to wait about ten minutes before someone yelled out, "Next." Remus used that time to ask Harry what he was interested in beginning with during their special summer training.

When Harry turned toward the goblin his eyes immediately widened, as he recognized him. The goblin didn't even look up from whatever he was reading on the podium and spoke in a flat tone, "Yes?"

Harry shook himself out of his surprised state and immediately pushed his palm to the center of his chest and said in an official tone, "Well met teller Griphook, I hope your gold keeps flowing."

Griphook's head shot upwards, his wide eyes locking on Harry. That's when he noticed the silence that now overtook the entire hall. Looking around Harry saw all the goblins look at him with dropped jaws and something odd in their eyes, the wizards weren't in better shape though he could recognize the confusion in most of their eyes. Well except for one, who looked at Harry with plain disgust.

Even Remus looked at him with wide eyes. Harry didn't understand, he just did what the book he and Hermione read last night told him to do in the presence of a goblin so why did everyone react like he just defeated Voldemort again.

Griphook cleared his throat and spoke, this time with much warmer voice, "Yes Mr. Potter, it's good to see you again as well. How can Gringotts help you today?"

Remus himself shook off the shock he was stuck in and replied, with his usual friendly smile, "We would like to see the Potter account manager if he is available."

Harry noticed Griphook's eyes widened again for a moment before he said, "Allow me a moment." And with that he jumped off the podium and almost ran out of the main hall toward a small hallway behind the counter.

Harry was ready to wait patiently for Griphook to come back, he was almost startled when Remus leaned down and whispered, "How did you know to do it?"

Harry's eyebrows jumped to his hairline and he responded with a bewildered voice, "Me and Hermione snuck in the restricted section again last night. We found a book about Gringotts and goblin customs. I just thought it would be better to be polite."

Remus stood back straight up and hummed in thought, before Harry could get the chance to ask what was wrong, Griphook came back with another goblin dressed just as sharply if not even more so.

Instead of returning to the podium the two of them stopped behind an empty section of the counter and motioned for Harry and Remus to get closer.

Once the two wizards stood across from the goblins with the counter between them Griphook introduced, "Mr. Potter, please allow me to introduce the longtime account manager of the Potters, Goldpaw."

Harry once again put his palm to his chest and said, "Well met account manager Goldpaw, may our business earn us endless gold."

Goldpaw's reaction was much more subdued, instead of the shock Harry half expected him to display the goblin's lips twitched upwards, but nothing else.

Goldpaw motioned with his hand, causing the empty section of the counter to open. The account manager turned around and said formally, "If you two will follow me please."

Harry began to follow him before he paused, turned to Griphook, who was already on his way back to the podium and called, "Thank you teller Griphook, may your vaults be ever flooding."

There was another shocked pause at that, but Harry turned and quickly followed Remus and Goldpaw.

They were walking down a hallway that was just as fancy as the lobby level of the bank if not more so. The hallway was also decorated with the portraits of many official looking goblins, not that Harry could name any of them even if his life was on the line. History of magic was not one of the courses he put any effort into even now.

Soon enough they entered one of the offices the hallway was leading to. The office was even more fancy than any part of the bank he had seen so far. The desk in the middle of it was pretty big, especially by goblin standards, behind it was one tall chair with many book cases covering the wall behind it.

On the other side two chairs were prepared. There were a few portraits and other decorations that looked very expensive around the room, but nothing more. The thing that drew most of Harry's attention was the armor and axe mounted on the wall behind him, they looked real and used.

Once all three of them were seated Goldpaw spoke with a warm smile, "Young Remus, it has been a while since we met."

Remus smiled back, "It has Goldpaw. I hope you are doing well."

Goldpaw gave a single nod, "I can't complain. Now you young Harry, I have been waiting for quite a while to meet."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Oh yeah? I'm sorry sir, I didn't actually know you existed until now."

Goldpaw looked surprised and asked amusingly, "And who did you think was in charge of your family's vaults? The gnomes?"

The joke went right over Harry's head as he focused on something else the goblin said, "Vaults? I just know about one vault I used to buy my Hogwarts stuff."

Goldpaw reached for a folder that was laying on the table and opened it with a chuckle, "Oh no, that is simply a trust vault your parents set up for you until you come of age. There is quite a lot more to your family's wealth. Thanks to your mother's instructions your vaults managed to make quite the profit in the last decade, of course out of respect I took only the minimal fee for my services."

Harry's mind was reeling from all the information he got, but he latched on to the one piece of information that he always liked to hear, "Respect for my mom sir?"

Goldpaw smiled kindly at Harry, which was an odd expression on a goblin's face, "Indeed. I heard about the scene you caused earlier with Griphook." Harry could only blush, causing Goldpaw to chuckle, "You have done nothing wrong. It is the sad truth wizards rarely show us goblins any respect, so having one use our customs toward a teller at that, is very rare. So rare that the only other occurrence like that in the past century was when Lily Potter, then Evans, came here."

Harry was smiling, he knew his mother was a kind person. Everything he heard from Hagrid, McGonagall and even Dumbledore suggested that. But hearing she befriended even what, if you believe Binns's lessons, a hostile nation brought warmth to his heart.

Goldpaw set a wooden box in the center of the table and said with a small smirk, "Before we go into the details I would like Harry to complete an inheritance test if you will allow it."

Chapter Text

Harry looked at the dumbfounded expression on Remus's face and turned to ask the goblin, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what we're talking about."

Goldpaw didn't look deterred by it and explained patiently, "Inheritance test is meant to confirm the magical family lines you stand to inherit once you come of age."

Harry tilted his head and asked carefully, "Lines? As in plural? As far as I know my mom is a muggle-born so I shouldn't inherit anything magical from her."

Goldpaw simply shrugged and said, "Let us make sure." Harry could only nod, so the goblin opened the wooden box to reveal two objects. One was a small thin dagger, not so much bigger than a needle, the blade as small as it was had some runes carved into it. The other object was a piece of parchment that had some runes framing it as well. The goblin, after revealing it said, "All you must do is use the dagger to cut your finger and bleed a little on the parchment. The enchantment on the blade will make sure your wound is healed a moment later and the ones on the parchment will reveal all the information we will need."

Pretty straightforward. Harry took a deep breath and used the dagger to cut his finger, barely even flinching, he had a lot worse as a kid, a small scratch was like a mosquito bite to him.

He allowed a couple of drops to land on the parchment, and dismissed it, it's not like he expected anything more than the name Potter appearing there. He suddenly felt comfortable warmth spreading from the wound on his finger, when he turned his palm, his finger didn't have a single mark on it.

Harry returned the dagger to its place just in time to hear Goldpaw's delighted voice, "Oh my." In the same time Remus said incredulously, "What the hell?"

Harry turned to the origin of those outbursts, and his own eyes widened to the point he was sure they were about to fall out of their sockets.

Right there on the parchment in front of him, written in what looked like blood red ink, were multiple lines.

The first read 'Heir to the ancient and most noble house of Potter.' Which Harry expected.

The next one shocked him as it read 'Heir to the most ancient and most noble house of Gryffindor.' What the hell was that supposed to mean?!

The next one turned his shock into confusion, 'Heir to the most ancient and most noble house of Peverell.'

The next one confused Harry further, mostly because of Remus's reaction to it. 'Heir to the ancient and most noble house of Black.' Okay, now that's two names he has no idea what they mean... wait! Wasn't there a Sirius Black in his dad's group of friends?

Then his eyes landed on the last line and Harry was torn between throwing up and screaming in outrage. Before choosing either he made sure he read the line right, and yes it said the same thing, 'Heir by conquest of the most ancient and most noble house of Slytherin.'

Before Harry got the chance to jump in indignation Remus did it, his face tight with anger as he spoke, "This must be wrong! After what he did Black would never name Harry his heir."

"That's what you have a problem with?!" Harry shot back, outrage overriding his surprise at the anger with which Remus referred to someone who is according to all accounts was one of his best friends.

Remus turned to look at Harry with narrow eyes, "Harry you don't understand Black..."

Harry cut him right off, "Do you really think it's so important that we should ignore the fact I'm heir to the houses of the founders? One of them is Slytherin. I'm not even a Pureblood!"

Goldpaw just sat patiently through their outburst and finally chose to speak, his tone was firm, one that a parent might use to scold his children with, "If you two gentlemen please calm down and sit, I might have an explanation."

Without any more issues both wizards did as the goblin said. Once they were seated, Goldpaw spoke again, "Now let us start with the Gryffindor line, as this is the easiest one. The Potters are a branched family descended from Godric's youngest sister, and because Potter is the last of the branched families to survive you are the official heir." That was an explanation Harry could follow and was comfortable with. The goblin then steepled his fingers and leaned forward to ask, "Mr. Potter I have heard about the achievement you have accomplished this year, but we in the nation feel like there are some major details we are lacking. I will be grateful if you will indulge me with the adventures you had at Hogwarts in the last couple of years."

Harry considered it for a moment, and he decided he trusted Goldpaw, so far the goblin showed him nothing but respect and compassion. Remus already knew all of it as well so there was no reason not to. With the decision made Harry spent the next hour retelling his adventures in Hogwarts.

During that time two other goblins entered the office. The first one dropped a couple of files and whispered something to Goldpaw Harry couldn't hear before he left, and the second one came in with a tray full of tea and biscuits, which Harry enjoyed between stories.

Once Harry finished with the story he drank the rest of his tea and leaned backward in his chair, a little tired.

Goldpaw nodded mostly to himself as he mumbled, "It is as we feared." His eyes then narrowed at Harry and he asked sharply, "Do either of you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

Harry is not surprised he never heard of a certain spell, after all he just began to take his studies seriously a month ago, he can't expect to know everything in that short amount of time. The look of complete ignorance on Remus's face though, surprised Harry.

The goblin seemed to be satisfied by their lack of knowledge when he spoke his tone was deadly serious, "What I'm about to tell you must be kept inside the halls of this bank alone. Understood?" With both their agreement he went on, "Those abominations are the darkest, foulest magic there is. In its essence it's the art of tearing apart one's soul and transferring it elsewhere so the spirit may stay bound to this plane even if the body has died."

Harry saw Remus's skin complexion was turning green, and Harry couldn't blame him, he began feeling sick himself, still he just had to ask, "And how exactly does one split their soul?"

Goldpaw's face turned even grimmer somehow as he answered bluntly, "Murder." Yep, definitely sick now. But the goblin had one more thing to say apparently, "The knowledge of their creation has been forbidden and destroyed by both the Ministry and us centuries ago. Unfortunately it is safe to say the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort has managed to get his hands on the information somehow."

Now Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand, his stomach was turning aggressively by the mere thought, that was until Goldpaw's final statement, "And according to your tales I'm afraid it is safe to say he is the first one to actually create a few of them."

That was it, before Harry could even finish processing all the implications, the biscuits he just ate moments ago broke free from his stomach and ended on the polished floor of the office.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, he kept telling himself panicking won't help, but his body seemed to disagree and just refused to exit this state.

That was until he felt a gentle hand rubbing his back smoothly. Harry opened his eyes and looked up to see the concerned face of Remus, the older man handed him a handkerchief and said gently, "It will be fine Harry, you are not alone in this."

Goldpaw then offered Harry a fresh cup of tea saying reassuringly, "Indeed you are not. Apologies for the distress, but I felt it is my duty to inform you of this fact." The goblin then looked at the puddle of vomit on the floor and asked carefully, "Mr. Potter will you be so kind?"

Harry understood what the goblin was asking, what he didn't understand was Remus's surprised gasp. Still Harry ignored it and drew his wand from under his shirt, Hermione showed him how to cast this specific spell just last night it shouldn't be too hard.

Harry pointed his wand at the pool of vomit and flicked his wrist while mumbling, "Evanesco."

Harry watched as the vomit disappeared a moment later. It was almost like the vomit was drawn on the floor and someone passed over it with an eraser and got rid of it. Harry also allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction having his theory confirmed.

There was something that was bothering him since that night of the dueling club, why were all the students shouting their incantations while Snape was the only one who cast without saying a word.

That was one of the first things Harry read about when he started visiting the library more often. Apparently silent casting is something that requires some level of magical power not everyone possesses even in adulthood, and even then the subject is only taught starting sixth year.

After hearing it Harry began to wonder if the volume of the spell equaled somehow to the power of it. After much research he came up with the theory that it's more of a mental state.

Mumbling usually indicates less focus and conviction, while shouting is caused by focused and determined individuals. And those factors are what decide the power of a spell. Harry will have to test it further later.

Harry took a deep breath and decided to try and think about it calmly, "Will you be able to find out how many he made? Or where to find them?"

Goldpaw steepled his fingers for a moment and looked like he was in deep thought, before he pulled a piece of paper, so the goblins do use ordinary paper rather than parchment, he waved his hand and the paper glowed after it was filled with words.

The goblin manager turned the paper and said in a serious tone, "This is a magical contract, once all three of us sign this none of us will be able to talk about any of the following information outside of bank walls."

Wow, to go so far to keep whatever they talked about from getting out. Harry could only assume that whatever they would talk about would be against some ministry treaty or another, not that he has any issues with it. With that in mind Harry signed the contract, and it flashed, it did the same after Remus and Goldpaw each signed it.

The goblin cleared his throat, "As you might know Mr. Lupin by ministerial law we goblins are forbidden from studying any dark magic used by wizards." Harry glanced at Remus who nodded in agreement before returning his gaze to the goblin across from him, "We goblins are a race of warriors and know very well the importance of knowing your enemy. So we may have been studying dark magic at the lowest levels of Gringotts."

Remus took a sharp breath, and he stated more than asked, "So you kept studying magic like those Horcruxes?"

Goldpaw nodded gravely, "We felt it would be of the utmost importance for us to know how to locate them, and safely destroy them." He then sighed heavily, "Unfortunately, it is impossible to locate a container without the original criminal who created it."

Remus cursed under his breath, after all it's not likely they will have the chance to bring Voldemort to the bank alive, Harry would imagine that even if by some miracle the madman would consider himself cornered he would prefer to go down fighting rather than being taken alive.

Harry's mind however went somewhere else, a real possibility, "You said Riddle is the first one to create multiple of those vile things, if what you need is the original soul to track another part of it, won't any container of Riddle's suffice to do the trick."

Goldpaw's eyes widened for a moment before a scary, full toothed smile spread on the goblin's face, "Impressive Mr. Potter, I hadn't considered it, but you are correct."

Remus gave Harry a confused look, "Yes, it's a good idea Harry, but do you have any idea where you can find one of those to begin with?"

Harry frowned in thought, without even noticing he began speaking aloud, "I can't say I know exactly, but I do have a thought. He gave Malfoy one of those things for safekeeping, did he have anyone else he trusted as much?"

Without even a moment of hesitation both Remus and Goldpaw answered at the same time and with the same voice full of realization, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry hummed. He remembered reading mentions of her in some of the places he researched, but all it was were mentions, never anything more than that so he couldn't make the connection. "There is a good chance that at least one of them was given to her. Maybe in her house, or her vault. I'm not sure where Malfoy kept it before passing it to Ginny."

Goldpaw scowled, "If such a dark artifact is indeed stored within the walls of this bank it will be in violation of the treaty. That family's vault will be closed and a significant fine will be taken out of it. I shall have a team investigate the Lestrange vault and inform you if anything of such significance is found."

Remus and Harry could only nod in agreement. It could only play in their favor so there is no reason not to. Goldpaw then said, "Let's move to our next order of business."

The only thing Harry could think was 'There is more?!'

Chapter Text

Harry sighed, "We have a next order of business?" His voice was tired.

Goldpaw chuckled, "Indeed so Mr. Potter. I believe the original reason you came to us today is to audit your current finances, and as we were sidetracked multiple times we have yet to do so."

Harry blushed, embarrassed he could forget something so big. He tried to sound calm, but the blush that refused to fade and his wandering eyes didn't exactly sell the idea, "So where do we begin?"

Goldpaw looked through the papers on his desk for a moment before looking at Harry and saying professionally, "Let us begin by informing you that while I will read an audit for each of your confirmed inheritances you will not be able to access any of those funds and properties until you come of age. With the exception of house Potter that has put in place instructions for the heir."

Harry blinked twice before repeating confusedly, "Instructions?"

The goblin nodded, "Yes. Lady Potter had insisted that Lord Potter would allow the heir the use of some of the family's wealth in cases like yours. We will get to what said instructions are when we reach the Potter's audit."

Harry could only nod and try to say as professionally as his current nervous state would allow him, "Please begin Manager."

Goldpaw nodded, picked up the first piece of paper from the collection on his desk and began reading, "Audit of the Gryffindor house inheritance. Please take into consideration this is one of our bank's oldest accounts and the house didn't have a proper heir for centuries. In its current state vault number 3 is worth 42,000 Galleons, and a few rare level magical artifacts. There is a property located in North Wales, though I must remind you that it has been uninhabited for the past few centuries, most likely the wards have long since failed and its state is unknown. There is the Wizengamot seat to consider as well, but as I told you earlier you won't be able to even appoint a proxy until you have been declared of age."

Harry made mental calculations. 42,000 Galleons at the current rate should be worth around 200,000 pounds. Too bad they can't use this money for five more years, it could have come really in handy right now. The rest of it Harry was less interested in.

The teen nodded his understanding to his account manager so the goblin picked up the next piece of paper, "Audit of house Slytherin. Vault 4 currently holds 750 galleons..."

Harry had to cut in and asked in surprise, "That's it? How can the previous vault have had so much more if they are around the same age?"

Goldpaw nodded in understanding of the question, "Unlike Gryffindor, Slytherin had an active lord and heir until a few decades ago. The last two of them depleted the gold the family had accumulated over the years. Even the amount currently in the vault exists only because the properties belonging to the house have been sold after the imprisonment of the last lord. The vault does however hold an impressive amount of very interesting magical artifacts, and the house still holds a seat in the Wizengamot as well."

Well, the magical artifacts and books would be a nice present to Hermione when he could get his hands on them, but otherwise nothing in this audit was worth mentioning.

The goblin moved on to the next paper on his table, "You might be familiar with the house of Peverell even if you are not aware of it. Have you heard the tale of the three brothers?"

Remus gasped in recognition, Harry turned to him and asked, "Remus, you know them?"

The older man shook his head, "There is a legend about three brothers and death itself, but it was supposed to be only a legend, a children's story. I can tell you about it later."

Harry accepted it for now, though the fact he didn't even know a wizarding children's story really didn't sit well with him. He wondered if Hermione knew about it.

Goldpaw shrugged, "Some parts of the story might be a little exaggerated, though we have no way of knowing that for sure. It is a fact however that the three brothers in the story are the Peverells, and as the story ends with two of them dead, I suppose you can guess who is the Potter's ancestor."

Remus nodded dumbly while Harry could only keep staring around in confusion. He would have to read this story at some point during the summer.

The goblin cleared his throat and began reading from the page he was holding, "Peverell house audit. The vault contains 62,000 galleons, a wide variety of books and a Wizengamot seat."

Again Harry found himself with the same conclusion, the money could be nice if he had access to it, and the books might be interesting once he advanced his magical knowledge.

Goldpaw reached for the next page and at the same time looked at Remus and said sternly, "Mr. Lupin I understand that the next part might be hard for you, but I must ask you to not interrupt the reading without just cause."

Remus's lips curled into a frown, still he kept quiet and gave a curt nod. Harry sighed mentally, another thing he would have to ask about later.

The goblin nodded and began to read, "Audit, house of Black, which presents its own kind of problems as it is an active house, with a living lord and in case Mr. Potter refuses the inheritance there is another heir, that until now used his titles to draw money from the Black vault."

Harry frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut, "Who is that heir? And how can they use money from a vault if you said I have to wait until I come of age?"

Goldpaw sighed heavily, "With the arrest of the current Lord Black the vaults didn't close altogether, there is still an amount allowed for the regent of the heir to draw monthly, which the current regent abuses to its limit every month. From the current generation of Black one sister has been banished from the family, two are in Azkaban, one is dead, so the last one had free reign over the allowed budget in the name of her son, the heir. That woman is called Narcissa Malfoy née Black, and thanks to her relation to the family until now the heir to the house has been Draco Malfoy."

Remus cursed under his breath something about how this made a lot more sense. Harry tilted his head and asked, "What are you talking about Remus?"

Remus sighed heavily, "You have met Lucius Malfoy and considering the artifacts in his possession you could guess who he is loyal to. The only reason he and a big part of the death eaters are not in Azkaban was because Malfoy bought their ticket out. Albus himself wasn't prepared for this because Malfoy, even though he was well off shouldn't have been able to afford those bribes, let alone keep living as comfortably as he is now. But if he gained control over the Black's money around that time thanks to everything happening it would make much more sense."

Goldpaw nodded grimly, "Yes, so far the Malfoys have cemented their hold in Britain using this connection." Then he gave a toothy smile that scared Harry a little, "Thankfully we can put an end to it today."

Harry looked excited at the idea, taking power out of those evil scums' hands would always get a big yes from him. "We can?"

The goblin kept baring his teeth with his smile as he informed, "Now we have blood confirmation of your status as the lawful heir to house Black, by the blood of your grandmother and the wishes of the current lord." Goldpaw passed a paper and pen to Harry, "If you sign this acceptance of your status and then sign below it the order of locking the vaults until such time you are of age, no one. Not even you will be able to draw any money from the vault. And the only way to overturn this decision will be by the current lord himself."

Harry didn't even think twice when he grabbed the pen and with a small smirk he signed the paper twice. While he pushed the paper back toward his manager his mind played what he guessed would be Malfoy's reaction when he heard about it.

Goldpaw chuckled darkly, "Oh I simply cannot wait. Mrs. Malfoy is supposed to arrive this week to collect their monthly allowance, I will be sure to prepare quite a welcome for her."

Harry himself chuckled wishing he could witness it. The goblin cleared his throat and went back to his professional voice, "Back to business. Currently the worth of the Black Vault is 3,140,000 galleons, there are some heirlooms in the vault such as jewels and old wands. There is the Black residence at 12 Grimmauld Place, and a private estate in Southern France, and finally its Wizengamot seat."

Harry almost choked when he heard the number. Millions?! He would be a millionaire?! Now Harry could understand where Draco's money boasts kept coming from. If they had access to sums like that...

Remus grumbled, "Still have no idea how this happened, but at least some good came out of this damned Black name."

Harry just sighed in resignation to not understand Remus's hostility to the name until he would get the chance to speak with him alone.

Goldpaw reached for the last paper and said with a small amount of cheer, "And now my own account, the Potter vault audit. First of all, you have the main vault, number 19, which holds 15,890,000 galleons, not including the muggle investments made with the advisement of Lady Potter, heirlooms, and a letter to be opened upon magical maturity."

Harry's breathing was a little too heavy. 15 million?! What the hell was his mother that she somehow surpassed all his other inheritances put together a few times over. And what was it about a letter, he guessed he would have to wait to find out, as annoying as it was.

The goblin wasn't done yet though, "Of course there is the Potter cottage Lord Potter purchased over a decade ago in Godric's Hollow that the ministry, unlawfully turned into a memorial. Outside of it there is still the Potter manor that is waiting in pristine condition in Dorset. And we can't forget the Wizengamot seat."

Harry frowned. He thought that the house Voldemort attacked was his parents' home, though it made sense that it was not the case, after all it would be the first place the dark lord would look. So he still had a good house to live in... oh right, he still has to wait a few years before he gets the manor. Shit.

Before Harry could dwell too far in those thoughts Goldpaw spoke again, "Now for the special instructions for the heir of house Potter. Until you are declared of age you shall have access to your trust vault alone, which is numbered 637, each month the amount in the vault will be restored to 1000 galleons. You will receive the location and keys to the Potter manor as well."

Harry released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He was already making the calculations of how far 1000 galleons a month could take both him and Remus, which was impossible considering Harry had no idea of most of the rates in either world. Living a sheltered life would deprive someone of this knowledge. Maybe he could send a letter to Hermione and get some idea of prices in the muggle world.

Still he could only hope that 5000 pounds would buy them a place to live, food and bills for a month. But when Goldpaw mentioned the manor Harry could at least take his mind off a place to live, without that he was pretty sure the rest of it would be covered by his allowance.

Taking the papers the goblin pushed toward him Harry already knew what he needed to do, and he signed everything.

The account manager opened his mouth to say something when the office's door flew open and three goblins entered the room, while the one leading them screamed, "Goldpaw! Explain why you have the darkest and foulest of artifacts in your office for so long without reporting it to me!"

Chapter Text

Harry stared at the three goblins in surprise; their entrance was quite dramatic. The goblins who remained near the door were wearing full goblin armor, one of them was holding an axe while the other a short sword. Their faces were covered by their helmets.

The one leading them though was a completely different story. His face had even more lines than Goldpaw's, he had no hair but a snowy white beard. This goblin was wearing the finest suit Harry had ever seen, and as a flair for the dramatic a velvet cape covered his shoulders and almost reached the floor. He had a golden hilted dagger strapped to his belt and right now he looked full of rage.

Harry had a pretty good guess of who that goblin could be, those suspicions were confirmed when Goldpaw jumped from his seat and kneeled before the goblin, his head bowed as his voice shook a little, "Director Ragnok. What an honor."

The older goblin snarled, "Honor?! I'm not here for honors account manager. The wards have detected one of the foulest magic's presence in your office for the past couple of hours, and yet I have received no information about that! Surely you know the penalty of possession of magic such as that."

Goldpaw raised his head with a confused and fearful look, his voice shook even further, "Director, I have no idea what you are speaking of. For the past few hours, I have been auditing Mr. Potter's inheritance."

The director's eyes finally snapped away from the kneeling goblin and toward Harry and Remus. Finally Harry snapped out of his shock and stood from his chair and bowed deeply, "Well met, director Ragnok, may your enemies fall to your blade. I'm Harry Potter, I wish to confirm my account manager's words."

The director seemed to be taken aback for a moment, while Goldpaw looked completely shocked. The old goblin seemed to get his bearings back and replied respectfully, "Mr. Potter a pleasure meeting you. Am I to understand you wish to defend this goblin, might I ask why?"

Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to answer, so with a tilted head and a careful voice he tried, "Well it's not right to punish someone for a crime they didn't commit and if I can help prove he is innocent I don't see why I shouldn't say something."

The director gave Harry a scary grin and said cryptically, "You are an interesting wizard Harry Potter."

The old goblin then got back to business and asked the kneeling Goldpaw, "If you have no dark artifacts in your possession why did the wards..." His voice faded as his eyes moved to Harry and he asked, "You say that you entered this office a couple of hours ago?"

Harry nodded with confusion, snapping at one of the guards behind him the director ordered, "Fetch Glinteye this moment."

The guard turned and ran out of the office. Meanwhile the director walked past Goldpaw and motioned him to stand up while he took the younger goblin's previous seat.

The old goblin began to look through all the papers on the table, and soon enough he began chuckling, he looked at the nervous Goldpaw and said amused, "Quite well done Goldpaw, truly an amusing plan you have conducted here for one of our most... esteemed clients. I do have an idea that shall increase our amusement by quite a bit."

No one said anything to contradict or stop the goblin director. The old goblin kept humming before landing his eyes on Harry and saying in a thoughtful voice, "Interesting. You might just become our bank's biggest client, Mr. Potter. If you wish to choose another account manager I am certain any goblin worthy of his name will be thrilled to take on the task."

Goldpaw began to sweat nervously, Harry ignored it and respectfully replied, "I thank you director, but I'm more than satisfied with Manager Goldpaw's services."

Said goblin looked gratefully at Harry while the director's lips twitched upwards, "A true exception you are." He then made a motion with his hand and with a bright glow a key appeared in his palm. The director laid the key on the table and pushed it toward Harry, "The key for Potter Manor."

Harry took the key in his own hand, and it was like information flooded his mind. An address and images of a road leading to a big manor with a red and gold color scheme. Harry shook his head to return to reality and looked at the seated goblin in confusion.

Ragnok gave a sharp smile to Harry and explained, "The Potter manor is hidden under many wards and charms. The only way to know its location is by either touching the key, or leading a person to the gates personally. In each case the act must be done willingly by one of the Potter house members, so even if the key is stolen, the thief will not know the manor's location."

Harry nodded dumbfounded before handing the key to Remus who just shook his head, "I already know the location of the manor."

Harry was about to ask him why he didn't just stay there when another goblin stormed into the room immediately starting to rant in the goblin language.

This one looked like a female, she wore what looked like a healing robe with a hood that covered her head. And she wasn't pleased as she looked at the director.

The old goblin waited for the aged female to finish her rant before speaking back at her in the same unfamiliar language.

The female's sharp eyes flew to Harry, or more like his scar. She walked closer to him and said a single word, "Sit."

Harry knew better than to argue and just parked his ass on the chair. A guard came closer with a rather large bag for the female, and while she looked through it she began asking, "Is the scar still hurting?"

Harry was surprised by the question and simply nodded, realizing Glinteye wasn't looking at him he responded verbally, "Yes."

The healer nodded before asking again, "Any odd behavior during those episodes of pain?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before giving a careful nod, "I usually feel angry, or glee all of a sudden despite having completely different emotions a moment earlier."

The healer paused for a moment in her search and seemed to curse under her breath before finally pulling out a crystal-based device. She turned to Harry with a stern look and ordered, "Don't move, say when it hurts too much."

The crystal in the top of her device began to glow slightly and the female brought it closer to Harry's scar, causing it to start heating up, or at least that's how it felt to Harry.

The crystal began to glow brighter, and Harry's scar began to burn, but he had learned to endure pain and only winced a little as the pain intensified. Still, soon enough the light was bright enough to blind Harry, that would have happened if Harry wasn't already blinded by pain.

The pain became as strong as it did during his fight with Voldemort for the philosopher's stone. He began to worry he would be knocked out again, when the pain suddenly disappeared and a moment later it was replaced by a soothing feeling that helped him regain control over his body in under a minute.

When the spots cleared and he could see again, the first thing he saw was the wrinkled palm of the female healer.

Still catching his breath a little Harry tried to ask, "W-W-what was that?"

The healer and the director both looked a little remorseful, the leader of the bank was the one to speak, "I do apologize for the discomfort Mr. Potter, be sure we won't charge you for the service, but I'm afraid it was necessary."

Remus didn't seem to like that answer, so when he spoke there was an edge to his voice, "And what exactly were those services?"

This time it was the female healer that responded, "Scars, even cursed ones do not tend to hurt so long after the initial wounding. The fact it does points toward the fact there is still active magic residing within the scar. And Mr. Potter's comment of change in behavior is unheard of and a cause for concern."

Harry's body began to shake as he himself began to connect the dots. The female goblin reached inside the bag and pulled out a vial of potion she offered to Harry while finishing her explanation, "Soul fragments are exclusive dark magic, the device I used emitted an opposite magic that creates a violent reaction from the soul fragment so we can confirm it exists."

Harry's body was badly shaking and he barely managed to gulp down the potion before the healer delivered her conclusion, "I must confirm that a soul fragment indeed resides behind Mr. Potter's scar."

Harry's body stopped shaking by now thanks to what he now realized was the calming draught. But his mind kept running. It ran back to that night, his mom died, he didn't and was only left with a scar.

Remus fell to the chair, his face paler than he had ever seen before like there was no blood left there at all. He looked into an empty spot and asked no one in particular, "You-know-who turned a baby into one of those things."

"No." Harry spoke before he noticed his lips moved. Everyone looked at him confused so Harry was forced to explain, "Dumbledore said to me last year that Voldemort..." Harry noticed that Remus was the only one in the room to cringe at the name, "came to Godric's Hollow to kill me, but my mom sacrificed herself for me and triggered some magic that protected me from him, it did it even last year when I touched his face. It's more likely that he planned to cast the ritual on something else, though thanks to me reflecting his curse the fragment attached itself to me."

Harry had to admit he was surprised by how efficient the potion he drank was. He should be shaking right now, crying when he talked about those memories, and the implication of the results from that night.

Harry remembered the pierced diary from the chamber and considered to himself that if destroying the container was the only way to get rid of the soul fragment Harry would have to die sooner rather than later.

Still even with those thoughts running in his mind, thanks to the potion, all those negative emotions felt as if they were fogged, distant and beyond his reach for the moment.

The director looked thoughtful for a moment, before speaking, "I believe you are correct Mr. Potter. A living container has never been recorded before, as they can be unpredictable and limited. After all, once you die the fragment will die with you."

Harry's body tensed, so he was right. There was only one way for the Horcrux to be destroyed, and Harry very much doubted that Tom would be kind enough to wait for death until Harry would die of old age if they managed to destroy all the other containers.

The healer turned toward the director and began screaming at him in the goblin tongue. The old goblin actually winced at her words before turning to Harry, "I apologize Mr. Potter, I have not noticed that my words may have implied your death would be required."

Harry blinked in surprise, looks like the potion didn't suppress this emotion, good to know, "I... Don't?"

The healer's voice which up until now was professionally flat, had a soft edge to it, "No Mr. Potter you don't. Wizards in the past had a tendency to use this foul magic on items the goblin nation found valuable and wished to preserve while cleaning it of the taint. As a result a ritual has been devised to transfer the soul fragment from one container to another."

Harry perked with hope, which also filled his voice as he asked, "And you will be able to use this ritual to get rid of the soul behind my scar?"

The female nodded, "Indeed. It will take a few hours to set up the ritual, so I will have to ask you to come back tomorrow during the noon hours. You have nothing to worry about Mr. Potter, you are in good hands."

And Harry believed her. He believed he was in good hands for the first time in a long time.

The director cleared his throat, he jumped off his seat and formally said, "As a sign of gratitude to the respect you have shown my employees and as my personal apology for my careless words I shall ensure you will receive full treatment without any cost."

Harry usually would refuse, but from his reading he knew how rare it was for something like that to happen. Actually it had never happened before, and with the importance of money and business to the goblins the gesture was a significant one.

Harry felt an emotion he was starting to become more and more familiar with. Hope.

Chapter Text

The director turned to leave the room, but before he left he shot over his shoulder, "I wish you good luck tomorrow Mr. Potter, you may approach Manager Goldpaw directly upon your arrival to the bank. No need for the line."

Harry, thankful for all the goblin's help, bowed a little and repeated a line from the book, "Thank you director, may your vault never dry."

The old goblin paused suddenly just at the door frame, his guard almost colliding with him thanks to that abrupt stop.

Harry began to worry he messed something up when a raspy laugh left the leading goblin's mouth and he shouted, "Let us ensure you have a future Mr. Potter, because I for one cannot wait to see what it brings to us all."

With that he left with his guards and the healer, leaving a very confused Harry behind. Was he just complimented?

Goldpaw cleared his throat, and when Harry looked at him he was seated behind his desk once again. He began to put his papers in order while speaking to them, "Our business for today is concluded, I believe you have other tasks to attend to. I will see the both of you tomorrow at noon."

Harry and Remus stood up from their seats, bowed a little with Harry saying, "Thank you Manager Goldpaw, may our future business prove profitable."

The goblin shot Harry one last scary smile before both wizards left the bank.

Their next stop was the Leaky Cauldron, where they picked up their belongings and stepped out of the barrier into the street. Harry looked up at the already setting sun before his gaze moved back to Remus and he asked, "So how do we get to the manor?"

Remus smirked a little and stretched out his arm with his wand pointing toward the road. Harry's face paled when he realized what was going to happen, he barely had time to think 'Oh, shit' before a purple blur was already heading toward them.

The wrought-iron gates creaked open with a low groan that echoed like a forgotten memory, revealing a path flanked by rows of ancient oaks and softly rustling hedgerows. The gravel underfoot was smooth and well-maintained, as though someone—or something—had tended to it over the years in quiet anticipation. Lantern posts lined the walkway at even intervals, each crafted from blackened brass and topped with glass globes that shimmered faintly in the last drops of evening light. Crimson ivy, touched with gold along its edges as though kissed by autumn magic, curled up the trunks of the trees and the posts alike.

As Harry stepped through the gate, a hush seemed to fall over the air. No birdsong, no wind—just the rhythmic crunch of his footsteps and the distant cry of a gull from somewhere beyond the hills.

The manor itself came into view gradually, as if unveiling itself from the folds of time. It was a stately building—three stories tall, wide and symmetrical—with stone walls the color of warm honey and a roof tiled in deep crimson. Tall windows with arched tops gleamed in the sunlight, framed in dark oak. A pair of massive double doors stood at the center of the front façade, made from polished mahogany and inlaid with golden accents that shimmered like starlight. Above the doors, the Potter crest was carved into the stone: a proud stag rearing back on its hind legs, framed by a sunburst.

Trailing along the edges of the building, small balconies jutted out beneath the upper windows, guarded by wrought-iron railings twined with the same rich crimson ivy. The gardens surrounding the path were manicured but not sterile—vibrant flowers in deep reds, golds, and warm whites bloomed in low beds, lining the walk as though guiding Harry home.

It was beautiful. But Harry didn't smile. He couldn't.

Every step up the gently sloping path made the ache in his chest deepen. This wasn't just a house—it was a home. One meant for laughter, late-night stories, and the kind of warmth he had only imagined during long winters in his cupboard under the stairs. Compared to Number Four Privet Drive—so square, so cold, so painfully ordinary—Potter Manor felt like stepping into another world entirely. A world that should have been his from the beginning.

He paused at the foot of the broad front steps. There were seven of them, wide and smooth, leading to a veranda with crimson cushions on polished stone benches. The doors stood silent before him, neither welcoming nor forbidding—just waiting. Waiting for a boy who had grown too fast. For a son who had never come home.

Harry's fingers tightened slightly at his sides, his throat dry. This place held echoes of the life he was meant to live.

And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to imagine it.

Remus stayed quiet for the whole time probably to allow Harry to process all of this, and Harry truly appreciated it.

The polished mahogany doors loomed before him, tall and silent, with golden handles shaped like intertwined stags. Harry hesitated only a moment before reaching out—his hand hovering an inch from the handle.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then, as if the very wood had exhaled, a quiet hum vibrated through the air. The gold glowed faintly beneath his fingers. The manor—his family's home—was recognizing him.

A soft click sounded, not mechanical, but magical. The doors parted with a gentle creak, swinging inward without force.

Harry took a breath and stepped forward.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth.

Not just from the golden sconces that lined the walls in soft flickers of firelight, but from the color of the space itself. The entrance hall was grand—clearly designed to impress. The floor beneath his feet was smooth crimson-veined marble, warm to the touch and gleaming like still water. Two sweeping staircases curved up in opposite directions from the far end of the hall, their railings wrought in dark oak and inlaid with fine golden filigree that caught the light like threads of sunlight.

The walls were painted in a rich, subdued crimson trimmed in gold leaf, with tall arching columns that stretched toward a high, vaulted ceiling. The ceiling itself was painted with a mural—abstract yet radiant—a depiction of a great stag surrounded by curling flames and winds, magic dancing in golden streaks from its antlers.

Directly across from the front doors, displayed in proud prominence between the bases of the twin staircases, was the Potter family crest. It was carved into a stone slab taller than Harry, mounted to the wall and framed by two aged wands—clearly antique—crossed in reverence like swords. The crest glowed faintly with an old enchantment, the stag rearing proudly atop the family motto inscribed in old Latin.

He didn't need Remus to translate it. "Fortitudo ex Cordis." Strength from the Heart.

"Merlin," Harry murmured.

Beside him, Remus smiled softly, though there was something distant in his eyes. "I haven't seen this place since before you were born. James always said this room felt like stepping into the heart of Gryffindor Tower."

Harry didn't reply, but he could see it now. The way the flickering sconces cast moving shadows that made the hall feel alive. The warm reds and burnished golds, like the embers of a long-burning fire. There was no harshness, no chill of wealth trying too hard. Just legacy. Comfort. Power earned, not demanded.

And yet... There was a tightness in his chest.

He could picture a toddler's laughter echoing off these walls. Could imagine running down those steps in a blur of messy hair and flapping robes, a mother's voice calling from above, a father waiting below with a grin.

He had been robbed of this. Of all of this.

The Dursleys' cramped, soulless hallways flashed in his mind. Beige carpets. Plastic light switches. Locked cupboards. The memory pressed against him like a shadow—something that didn't belong here.

"Harry?" Remus asked gently.

Harry blinked. He realized he'd been staring at the crest too long, his jaw clenched. He nodded silently, trying to shake off the ache.

"I'm all right," he said, voice low but steady. "Just... trying to take it all in."

Remus gave him a reassuring hand on the shoulder. "It's a lot. But it's yours."

As they stepped further inside, their footsteps soft against the marble, the sconces flickered just a touch brighter—subtle, like a house welcoming someone it had waited far too long to receive.

Harry was startled by a pop sound right in front of him before a squeaky voice spoke, "The great Harry Potter sir has returned home."

Harry had to blink as he looked downward to be met with the large brown eyes of the only house elf he knew. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

The house elf smiled widely, "Dobby asked to work for Hogwarts after the great Harry Potter sir saved Dobby. Professor whiskers said he is happy to let Dobby work in the castle, but offered Dobby to work for the great Harry Potter sir. Dobby agreed immediately, and Dobby has been here for two days cleaning." The elf finished proudly.

"Umm, Harry you want to introduce us?" Remus asked hesitantly.

Harry nodded. He pointed at the house elf and said, "Remus this is Dobby. He is the elf I tricked Malfoy into freeing with the diary." Harry then switched his pointing to Remus and finished, "Dobby this is Remus Lupin, he will be living here with me."

Harry then looked at the house elf and asked, "Are you sure you want to work for me Dobby?"

The elf's ears almost looked like wings from the amount of fluttering they did while he nodded his head vigorously, "It will be Dobby's greatest dream to work for the great Harry Potter sir."

Harry considered it for a moment. There was no way he would be able to handle all this space by himself, even Remus might not be enough so an extra pair of hands, a magical pair at that, would be helpful.

Harry looked at Dobby again and said sternly, "I will agree to hire you. I will pay 10 galleons a month with 2 vacation days for your choosing."

The house elf looked scandalized and shook his head, "The great Harry Potter sir is very generous. Dobby will accept a Sickle a month and no need for vacations."

Now it was Harry who shook his head and with finality offered, "2 galleons a month, and one vacation day. Plus you have to start calling me just Harry."

Probably noting his tone, and understanding it was the best offer he would get, Dobby relented and with a bright smile agreed, "Dobby is very happy to work for Harry sir."

Harry smiled and offered his hand to the elf, "And I'm happy to have you Dobby."

With tears filling his eyes Dobby shook Harry's hand before snapping his fingers. As soon as he did all the luggage both he and Remus carried disappeared.

Harry turned to Dobby with a raised eyebrow and the elf was happy to answer the unasked question, "Harry sir's things are in the master bedroom, Wolfy's things are in the main guest room."

Harry noticed Remus tensing at the nickname Dobby used for him, which he didn't understand, but was too tired to care for the moment. Harry turned to Dobby again and said, "If you don't mind Dobby I need to sleep, I have a hard day tomorrow."

Again the elf nodded enthusiastically before informing him, "Of course Harry sir. Dobby prepared the master bedroom for Harry sir already."

The steps rose wide and curving beneath his feet, their polished oak dark and gleaming in the soft glow of the sconces. Harry's hand brushed the golden filigree railing as he climbed, each step carrying the weight of a strange new reality. The silence of the manor wasn't heavy or oppressive—it was expectant, almost reverent, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath for him.

Remus had followed behind at a quiet distance, but when they reached the landing, he gave Harry a faint smile and peeled off toward one of the guest rooms without a word—leaving him to explore on his own.

The upper hallway was long and carpeted in deep crimson, soft beneath his trainers, with arched doors lining both sides like quiet sentinels. As Harry moved down the corridor, his gaze flicked to the subtle gold inlays on the baseboards, to the faint glint of sconces shaped like stylized phoenixes, to the occasional window draped in heavy curtains the color of fine wine. He paused at each door, glancing in some—one held a study, another what looked like a sitting room—but then, halfway down the hall, he saw it. The largest door.

Tall and paneled in dark, rich wood with golden handles and a carved border that framed a faintly embossed stag at its center. Somehow, he knew.

Harry pushed the door open slowly, and what greeted him made him freeze in place. The master bedroom was... warm.

Not in temperature, but in feel. The walls were paneled in smooth oak trimmed with crimson velvet, and the ceiling curved gently overhead, painted in a soft gold hue that caught the firelight and made the room glow. A grand four-poster bed dominated the space, its frame dark and sturdy, with flowing curtains of deep red tied neatly back. A thick comforter, also in crimson with gold embroidery, lay waiting, fluffed and immaculate. Plush pillows sat in perfect rows.

A stone fireplace sat across from the bed, its hearth flickering with living flame. An armchair was angled beside it, a folded Gryffindor scarf draped over one arm as though waiting for someone to settle in and read. To the left stood a large window framed by heavy curtains, and before it, a polished oak desk with his inkwell, quill, and a few open schoolbooks already laid out.

Against the far wall, a tall cabinet had been turned into a miniature wardrobe—his Hogwarts robes hung freshly pressed within, and his trunk had been set at the foot of the bed, neatly closed. His Nimbus had been mounted reverently on the wall above it, displayed like the prized possession it was.

But what made Harry's breath catch was what sat on the nightstand. A photo frame.

Inside was a picture of him and Hermione, clearly taken after a victory. He was grinning crookedly, his arm around her shoulders, while she leaned into him with that brilliant smile of hers, windblown and laughing. The image looped every few seconds—he blinked, she nudged his shoulder, he smirked—again and again. It was simple. Unassuming.

But someone had placed it there with care.

Harry stepped fully inside now, letting the door click gently shut behind him. The weight of the day—the trip, the revelations, the ache of everything he'd seen—settled into his shoulders like a cloak, but somehow, here, it didn't feel as heavy.

He crossed to the bed slowly and sat down, the mattress giving beneath him with just the right amount of resistance. He glanced once more around the room—at the details, the warmth, the life already waiting here for him.

"Thank you, Dobby," he murmured.

Then he leaned back, letting the soft pillows catch him as his eyes closed. Soon enough he was asleep.

Chapter Text

When Harry opened his eyes he was surprised to see he was in his sleeping clothes rather than his casual ones like he remembered falling asleep in last night.

Speaking of waking up, Harry didn't feel this good waking up in a long time. The last time he felt so refreshed was in the beginning of the year at Hogwarts before the entire Heir of Slytherin fiasco that made him feel like he had to watch his back even in his own dorm.

The heir of Slytherin issue seems kind of ironic now that he really was him.

Harry shook his head and headed toward the bathroom with a change of clothes under his arm.

Soon enough he was sitting in the dining hall with Remus who was drinking a cup of coffee while looking around with a nostalgic look in his eyes.

As soon as Harry sat down a plate full of eggs and toast appeared on the table, another moment and a glass of pumpkin juice appeared beside the plate.

Harry looked around and called out, "Thank you Dobby."

The elf appeared next to Harry with tears in his eyes as he began speaking rapidly, "The Great Harry Potter sir thanks Dobby, Dobby has never been thanked before, Harry Potter is indeed a great wizard."

Harry was bewildered for a moment before he shook his head and instead asked, "Have you eaten yet Dobby? Because if you didn't feel free to join us."

This time the house elf began outright sobbing, "The great Harry Potter sir is the greatest wizard to treat a house-elf like an equal."

Harry felt a little awkward with all that so he cut the elf off and said casually, "Well, the offer stands whenever Dobby, and I thought we talked about the Harry thing."

Dobby nodded, "Yes Harry sir." The elf seemed to remember something and turned back to Harry, "Dobby almost forgot. The portraits of Lord and Lady Potter asked Harry sir to visit them in the portrait room."

Harry was shocked, his chest tightening as he asked in a whisper, "They have portraits? In the manor?"

Dobby only nodded in return.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to stop himself from rushing upstairs and looking for those portraits. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his dad's smile and hear his mom's voice, but he had a place to be and a promise to keep.

So with another deep breath he made a promise to himself to head straight there after his visit at Gringotts.

He opened his eyes and focused back on his food.

As soon as he finished he and Remus began to head toward the exit with Remus commenting, "We should really make a subscription to the Prophet while we're in the alley too."

Harry just shrugged not really caring about it. Instead he focused on something else as they walked down the path toward the gate, "Do we have to use that damn bus again?"

Remus chuckled, "Do you have another idea?"

"Can't we use my broom?" Harry looked pleadingly at the older man.

His guardian laughed again and said, without a hint of apology in his voice, "Sorry. Illegal."

Harry grumbled all the rest of the way.

Harry would like to think today would be a lucky day for him, he could really use that luck if he was being honest.

The first sign for it was the timing of their arrival to the bank. They just walked into the main hall and began heading toward the counter where Goldpaw should be waiting for them.

That was when it all began.

A tall woman with regal form and noble vibe stepped forward toward the teller's podium. She had blonde hair done in what could only be called a noble style. Her facial features were familiar to Harry but it was hard to place them for some reason.

When her turn finally came she approached the podium with her nose raised up high, which didn't mean a lot as the podium was still taller than her.

The teller didn't even look up from his writings as he asked flatly, "Yes?"

The woman huffed in anger, "I demand to receive a proper service here goblin! Why hasn't my account manager come to meet me?"

The goblin rolled his eyes and looked at the woman with a deadpan look, "Name."

The woman glared at the teller and hissed, "What do you mean name? I'm one of your bank's biggest clients. I demand you show me proper respect and fetch my account manager this instant."

The goblin let out an irritated sigh and explained slowly, as if he was talking with a child, "If you want to see your account manager I need to know your name."

The woman's cheeks flushed in anger, but she remained calm as she responded dryly, "Narcissa Malfoy née Black."

Maybe Harry imagined it, but for a moment he thought he saw a sharp smile twitching on the goblin's lips when he heard the name. His voice suddenly was more alive as he fished out a letter from behind his podium and handed it to the woman, "Apologies. You have arrived before we could send you this letter to inform you of the change in your status."

Harry had to bite his lip. He suddenly remembered the director's look when he read about their plan for the Black's previous heir. He couldn't wait to see how this would play out.

Narcissa smiled in satisfaction at finally being recognized and with the dignity of a noble woman she opened the parchment and began reading it.

Her face grew redder the more she read until eventually her head snapped upward toward the goblin and she screeched, "What is the meaning of this?"

The goblin shrugged and responded casually, "As you read madam. The heir to the house of Black signed on the instruction to cancel all allowances of any other Black house member."

The blonde glared at the goblin and growled, "It's not possible! My son is the heir and he signed no such thing."

The goblin was now baring his sharp teeth with his smile and took great delight in informing the uptight pureblood, "Your son was the acting heir. But as now the appointed heir of the current lord claimed his title, all such decisions now lie with him."

Narcissa's face was gaining a purple hue as she snarled at the goblin, "How could my cousin nominate a pretender to be heir. It's illegal! I demand for my son to be returned his rightful title."

The goblin didn't even try to hide his glee when he retorted to the woman, "I assure you madam the heir is of Black blood, as was confirmed by an inheritance test witnessed by the director himself. Completely legal even within our ministerial treaty."

All color drained from Narcissa's face as she realized that if the director confirmed it himself there would be no way to legally dispute it. Her face grew even paler when she noticed the people around the lobby were looking at her and mumbling to each other.

She turned to the goblin and hissed quietly, "I demand to see my account manager."

The goblin leaned forward on his podium, but his voice was loud and clear as he answered calmly, "As you know madam, the Malfoy wealth alone does not justify an account manager, and as the current heir holds other vaults within our bank he has his own manager. The goblin you are referring to has retired and therefore cannot see you."

The murmurs around the lobby got louder, with a couple of snickers that could be obviously heard.

Realizing that the scene would make the news soon enough the blonde woman turned on her heel and fled the bank with as much dignity as the last revelations would allow. As she passed through them her eyes widened when she noticed Harry but she didn't stop.

Harry was so focused on the show he didn't even notice Goldpaw was standing next to him until he spoke, "I hope you enjoyed the show Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled down at his account manager, "Well met Manager Goldpaw. And thank you, it was very entertaining."

The goblin chuckled before he motioned for them to follow him, "Let us get to the business we gathered here for today."

Harry and Remus could only nod.

Soon they found themselves walking down the stairs of a new hallway they had never seen before. At the end of it was a large room they entered.

The room was dimly lit and looked a little more like a cave than a polished room Harry imagined it to be. Then again the only reference he had was Goldpaw's office.

In the middle was what looked like a hospital bed that was bolted to the floor rather than being on wheels. All around the room there were many tables, with a lot of different equipment on them.

Some had open books, others had half written papers, and a few had things like knives, vials and so on.

Around those tables two goblins were working tirelessly. They wore the same robes as the female healer from yesterday.

"Ah there you are boy." A familiar voice called him.

Harry turned to see the female healer that checked him before heading toward them. Harry bowed a little and greeted her politely, "Well met healer Glinteye."

The female paused for a moment, eyeing Harry with a small smile that faded away as quickly as it came and she replied sternly, "Yes, yes. Now take off your shirt and lie on the bed Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't question it and did as told. He handed his shirt to Remus who was ordered to stand near the entrance alongside Goldpaw.

Once he was on the bed Glinteye was at his side with a bowl full of ink in one hand and a brush in the other, saying firmly, "Now try not to move, I have to draw runes on your body."

Harry stayed still as the female healer drew the same rune over Harry's heart and then over the center of his forehead. Then she muttered something under her breath as she drew another set of runes on his scar, a few centimeters to the left of the previous rune.

The healer then made sure to look Harry in the eye and inform him, "I will apologize now, the ritual was not meant for living beings so extreme pain is a likely outcome during the ritual. Will you be able to lay still?"

Harry was about to nod when he remembered the ink on his forehead and instead answered verbally, "Anything to get the bastard out of my head."

She gave him a nod of approval and a moment later Harry could feel two more goblins standing at his sides.

One of them left his hands hovering over his head, while the other hovered hers over his heart. The old healer herself was focused on the scar.

Harry closed his eyes just as the three began muttering in their native language. At first it was the first two goblins who did the chanting and Harry was startled a little when he could feel something like chains covering his head and heart, tying them tightly and heavily.

After that feeling settled down the third goblin, which was the old female healer, began her own chant which was different from the one the first two were still using.

Harry could feel a sting of pain straight away. Like when you try to pull out an annoying wood chip stuck under your skin.

The pain though was quickly growing, and Harry had to bite his lip when it began feeling more like somebody was trying to tear his arm off with brute strength.

His body tensed so it wouldn't start to shake, when the pain was becoming too strong for Harry to keep quiet. And then came the panicked voice of the healer, "The fragment is resisting! If we continue the boy may lose his mind, but if we stop the fragment will be able to take over his body."

Harry could feel it. He could feel something digging deeper into his mind, as if claws began sinking their way into the soft tissue of his brain.

"What can we do?" The voices began to grow distant, but he knew it was Remus's angry voice.

The female goblin actually sounded desperate when she sadly replied, "All we can do is ensure a young dark lord won't start going around in a body with a high magical core."

From there he thought he could hear more shouts, but they were too distant for him to hear.

Harry himself agreed. He would rather die here and now than let Voldemort take control over his body. But suddenly he could feel a surge of magic flare inside of him.

Something pure and warm. He knew he had felt it before, but where was a mystery now.

It felt like there was a fire under his skin, though it wasn't burning him. Instead it was purging him, warming him. That was until the magic reached his scar.

In that moment it felt like his scar was set on fire. The burning however had the good outcome of drawing the claws in his mind slowly out of there. With each pull of the claws a new image filled Harry's mind.

In the end there were a total of five images, mostly objects and Harry instinctively knew what they were. Tom's horcruxes.

With one last pull the claws were completely gone from inside his mind. And not only that but his head felt lighter. There was one last flicker of burning sensation that caused Harry to finally give up and let the darkness swallow him.

The last thing he thought he heard was a loud shriek filling the air around him.

He didn't know how long he was passed out, but when he opened his eyes he saw the worried faces of the healer, Goldpaw, Remus and... the director? When did he get here?

The healer immediately began questioning him, "Mr. Potter are you okay?"

Harry ignored it, he had more urgent information to share. He wasn't sure why his throat was hurting but still he made the effort to rasp out, "I... Saw... them. Write."

Chapter Text

The three males weren't sure what he was talking about, but the director was a man of action. With a snap of his fingers Goldpaw was holding a piece of paper and a pen.

With his raspy voice Harry began listing them off. Hufflepuff cup, vault. Slytherin necklace, cave full of inferi. Ravenclaw's diadem, statue inside a messy room. A ring with a weird stone on it, under the floor of a house. A snake, in a forest.

Their eyes widened when they all realized what Harry was listing.

The director's eyes snapped from the paper to Harry and he began asking, "How do you know all of this? Have you seen the locations? Wha..."

The old goblin was forced to stop his interrogation when the healer pushed him away and glared at him, "Leave my patient alone until I discharge him."

She then turned to him and asked, "Mr. Potter are you feeling like yourself?"

Harry went to answer, but his throat was now utterly gone so instead he just nodded. The healer seemed to realize the issue and pulled a pain relief potion from inside her robes, slowly and carefully feeding it to Harry.

Harry could feel the ache in his throat fading away slowly. The healer then looked into his eyes before pointing at the clock in the far corner of the room/cave, "Can you tell what time it is?"

Harry nodded and read the time aloud thinking that the healer was trying to determine if he had any issues with his mind.

Though the response he received was odd. Remus looked shocked and said slowly, "Well this is a surprise."

Harry was confused and reached for his face to feel if there wasn't anything wrong, once he reached for his eyes that was when it hit him what made everyone look surprised... or more like the lack of what. Apparently Harry wasn't wearing his glasses, and still he somehow managed to see the far away clock perfectly.

The healer looked thoughtful as she kept checking Harry's face, "A horcrux was never made using a living host. It would seem that in your case the fragment latched on to your magic which because it happened at a young age led to stunting some of your growth, as well as a few other health issues that seem to include your short sightedness."

Harry frowned, "Latched on to my magic? So he was using it as energy for itself?"

The healer nodded, "I would be careful with the spells you cast from now on as they might be more powerful than you're used to. I must admit that your magical core must be impressive if even after a decade of leeching you were still able to cast spells and not become a squib."

Okay... Harry didn't know how he should feel about that so he decided to just ignore that comment while keeping in mind the first advice.

The director leaned slightly closer to Harry and said, "I am more interested in the magic you displayed to recoil the fragment."

Harry just tilted his head in confusion prompting Remus to explain, "For a moment there it looked like the ritual would fail and you... Well out of nowhere there was a pulse of magic bursting out of your chest, and just before anyone could do anything your scar went from pulsing with dark veins spreading from it to catching on fire. All of a sudden dark mist began coming out of your scar taking the form of you-know-who and shrieking before fading away. At this point the flames went out and the skin under it dusted away revealing a newly healed patch of skin."

Harry's finger shot to the left side of his forehead and he asked carefully, like he couldn't believe it, "I... I don't have a scar anymore?"

Remus gave Harry a small smile, "No Harry, you don't. Though I got to admit the whole thing reminded me of Dumbledore's phoenix's burning day."

Harry's eyes widened and he asked in a hurry, "Did you say the magic pulse came from my chest?" The two goblins and wizard nodded in confusion, "Dumbledore told me my family had something to do with phoenixes, and Fawkes cried onto my chest the last time I saw him."

The healer began rubbing her chin, "It did look like phoenix magic, and the fact there is one of them involved is fascinating. I will research it and if I find anything of use I shall share it with the director and Goldpaw. Otherwise you are clear to leave Mr. Potter."

With that the healer went to one of the tables and began writing something. After Harry dressed and wiped off the runes from his forehead the four of them left the room and found themselves walking in the fancy hallway from before once again.

"So Mr. Potter..." The director began, drawing his attention, "The items you mentioned. We can only assume they are the containers the self-proclaimed dark lord created." He then shook his head in dismay, "To create seven of those abominations, the man is truly mad by now if he wasn't before."

Harry frowned, "I don't think he created seven."

That comment drew the attention of everyone else in the hallway so Harry elaborated, "My fragment was a mistake on his part so he didn't know about it. I believe he did want to create seven of them, because they teach us in first year that seven is a magical number."

Goldpaw hummed and pointed out, "So we are talking about six containers."

Again Harry shook his head to the confusion of the others, "The snake didn't feel like the others. It felt... more basic. I think that Tom is possessing the snake to stay in some state of being alive like he did with Quirrell last year."

The director considered it for a moment, "It would make sense. The original soul won't be able to exist as a wraith for long, even with 7 anchors in place. But there were only five intentional ones, and you already disposed of one of them."

Harry nodded, "Yes. And thanks to you another one is gone now. By the way about that vault..."

The director raised his hand, "Yes, Goldpaw already mentioned that madwoman's name. Once I am back in the office I shall sign the order to search the Lestrange vault for a golden cup."

The old goblin's smile then turned sharp as they reached the staircase and he presented a plan, "If we do find this cup, it will be the perfect catalyst to create the spell to find the rest of them. Once we do, will you by any chance consent to hire Gringotts' curse breakers for the job of hunting them down and disposing of them?"

Harry blinked at the offer. It was the first time someone was offering him this kind of help, usually it was just expected from him to do the job, especially if it had to do with Voldemort. "Will I have enough money for this?" was the only problem he could think of.

The director waved the concern away, "I will sign a special permit for you to be charged out of the main Potter vault which I assure you won't even be dented by the cost of our services."

Harry gave the goblin a deep bow and replied, "I will be glad to accept your offer Director."

After they promised Goldpaw to visit again soon to sign for the approval of the charges for the curse breakers both Harry and Remus left the bank.

They did make the small stop to get Remus the Prophet subscription before returning to the manor, Remus laughed himself silly when Harry asked why they were at the Leaky Cauldron and the older man replied casually, "To floo back to the manor. I set the floo back up this morning."

Harry sputtered for a moment before demanding, "Then why did we take the damn bus here?"

Remus shrugged and replied, "A good marauder never misses a chance for a prank."

Harry grumbled all the way to the fireplace, and when he landed on his ass back in the manor's entrance hall he cursed under his breath.

Harry stood in front of the full body mirror and dusted himself off of all the ashes he gathered during his journey.

But eventually he took a deep breath and walked as calmly as he could toward the room Dobby pointed out earlier that morning.

The door clicked shut softly behind him.

Harry stepped into the room with slow, reverent strides, breath caught somewhere between his chest and throat. The air felt different here—not stale, but still, as though the room itself had paused the moment he entered. A hush hung over everything, like a library of the dead.

It was smaller than he expected. Intimate. The stone walls were paneled in aged oak, warm in hue and polished to a soft sheen. Two plush armchairs faced the far wall, with a narrow writing desk between them holding a silver inkwell, a faded ledger, and a single unlit lantern. The only light came from a few wall sconces casting golden halos that flickered gently across the faces in the frames.

Portraits.

A few dozen of them, hung in orderly rows along the three main walls, framed in gold or dark wood, some oval, others square or grandly arched. Each depicted a witch or wizard dressed in old formal robes—some in fine crimson, others in regal navy, forest green, or deep maroon—each face captured in striking detail.

And yet... none of them moved.

Not a twitch of the eye, not a rustle of fabric, not the slow turn of a head. They sat frozen in mid-expression—some serene, others stern, a few even caught in half-smiles. Silent sentinels of the Potter line.

Harry's heart beat faster, eyes scanning the collection. He stepped slowly along the wall, gaze flicking from face to face. Men with proud jaws. Women with strong eyes. Familiar chins. Hair the same shade as his. Some looked kind. Others looked like they'd judge a Hippogriff and send it crying to its nest.

But none of them were James or Lily Potter.

The disappointment hit like a slow chill. He hadn't even realized how tightly he was holding onto the hope until it slipped quietly from his fingers.

"Lord and Lady Potter..." he murmured under his breath, brow furrowing. "You meant—"

He turned back to the far wall, the one opposite the door. Two larger portraits sat there, side by side in matching golden frames. A man with neatly combed dark hair, a trimmed beard, and a commanding posture stood proudly in crimson-trimmed robes. His expression was sharp yet not unkind, and his hand rested on the hilt of a wand mounted on his hip.

Beside him sat a woman with elegant features and warm eyes framed by chestnut curls pinned back with delicate gold clips. She wore a flowing robe of deep wine red, embroidered with faint golden thread in the shape of ivy leaves. Her hands were folded calmly in her lap, and her gaze was direct—even frozen, she looked like someone who expected to be listened to.

Harry stepped closer, suddenly realizing what he was seeing.

His grandparents.

He blinked. There was no doubt about it. His father's nose. His mother's cheekbones. Even something in the posture—the way they sat like rulers of their space, yet not unreachable.

"James?" The sitting woman spoke all of a sudden, her face frowning.

The movement and word was so unexpected that Harry yelped and jumped backwards with wide eyes.

"No." Responded the calm and warm voice of the man standing at her side, "He might look like a miniature version of our son, but he has Lily's eyes."

The woman leaned forward, her eyes wide and shining, "Are you... our grandson?"

Harry could only nod still too stunned by the sudden conversation to respond. Before he returned the question, "Are you my grandparents?"

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Harry stepped out of the Portrait Room and leaned back on the hallway wall, taking a deep breath.

There was still disappointment lingering from when he believed he would finally have a chance to meet his parents.

A small smile began twitching on the corner of his lips despite that. His chest began warming thinking about how he got to do something he never even thought about before.

He met his grandparents, and they were awesome.

With a deep breath Harry pushed himself off the wall and began walking slowly toward the living room on the first floor.

He expected to see Remus there, maybe reminiscing about old times. Harry was surprised though to see Remus sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in his hand and a house guest sitting across from him.

And if the long beard and hair wasn't a dead giveaway, then the eyesore of colorful robes the old man was wearing would have been more than enough to recognize Albus Dumbledore, who was sipping from his own cup of tea.

The moment his blue eyes caught a glimpse of him he smiled widely, "Ah. Mr. Potter, a lovely day for a visit wouldn't you say?"

Harry glanced at Remus, trying to figure out when the headmaster arrived for said visit.

Remus gave Harry a sheepish smile, "I was busy installing the floo network, once it was done, I tried to make a call to Hogwarts, to make sure everything works fine and Albus asked to come through for a short visit."

Harry nodded, and Remus gave Harry a wistful little smile as he asked, "How was the talk with your parents?"

Harry took a deep breath, "They weren't there. They... they didn't have the time to make a portrait before... you know."

Remus's wistful smile turned into a very sad frown, and he gave Harry a gentle nod of understanding.

But Harry then smiled brightly, "But Grandpa and Grandma were there we spoke for a while."

Remus's eyes widened, "Charles and Dorea? Of course. Why haven't I thought about it?" He finished the last part as a mumble to himself.

The headmaster leaned back in his seat with a soft, nostalgic smile on his face, "Ah, dear Charles and Dorea. I just began my teaching career in Hogwarts when they began their first year. I have a few fond memories of their youth if you ever wish to hear about it."

Harry could feel his chest warming up. There was still a feeling of bitterness when it came to Dumbledore, but it was obvious the old man was doing his best to make amends while still respecting Harry's boundaries. "I would like it." He replied eventually.

The powerful wizard inclined his head in acknowledgment before asking with a soft voice, "Did they have anything interesting to tell you about your lineage?"

Harry shook his head, "No. But..." He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should trust the headmaster with the information. The goblins were already on the case, and having the headmaster involved could cause some troubles down the line.

Deciding it would be some justified karma Harry decided to tell the professor half the truth, "When I mentioned Voldemort's real name, my grandma recognized his middle name."

"Did she now?" Dumbledore's smile was gone, replaced with a slack jaw and wide eyes.

Harry nodded, "She connected him to some pureblood house called Gaunt. She told me rumors she heard about them during her Hogwarts years. Rumors about how the squib daughter of the house ran away with a muggle that lived next door. She also told me that three years after they ran away the brother of the squib began complaining that the muggle returned to his home while his sister was still missing. She finished by saying that a few years later the brother was accused of killing the muggle and his parents."

The headmaster took a slow sip of his tea before he spoke slowly, trying to keep calm even though Harry could see the gears turning in his head, "Thank you Mr. Potter. You have confirmed some details I have spent decades trying to gather."

Dumbledore raised his cup back to his lips, taking a very slow sip from it in an obvious attempt to hide how his eyes were scanning Harry curiously from toe to head.

When his blue eyes landed on Harry's forehead. Those same eyes widened and the cup in the old man's hand fell to the floor and shattered. Still the ancient wizard didn't dare move his now shining eyes from Harry's forehead.

"Harry... Your scar..." Dumbledore whispered, unbelieving.

After the goblin's ritual Harry noticed how faded his scar became, it looked like any old wound that was healing. No longer was it a raw scar that screamed for everyone's attention.

Harry sighed and gave the headmaster a small smile, "Yes sir, it's gone. I'm free from his curse." Harry let the double meaning hang there. Let Dumbledore make his own assumptions if Harry knew about the Horcrux or if he thought it really was just a dark curse from Tom.

Tears began running down the wrinkled face of the old man as a wide smile spread across his beard, his voice was raw and emotional, "Excuse me... I have hoped... I searched... for years... You did it! You did it and you are alive!"

Harry felt a pang in his heart that he ever considered the professor would consider a plan that would intentionally kill him. It was obvious the man was desperate, and because of that he made some very poor choices that Harry had to pay the price for. While he still wasn't sure he could forgive the old man, he started to believe he could trust and work with him.

Harry smiled and handed the headmaster a handkerchief from the table, "Thank you, Sir. For all your efforts."

The headmaster used the handkerchief to dry his cheeks as he shook his head, "I have failed you Mr. Potter. Time after time in the course of your young life I have failed you." Then his voice took on something more determined, "Thank you. For reminding me of hope, that even the impossible can be done by the right person."

Harry wasn't sure what he should say, instead he went around and sat down next to Remus, allowing a moment for the headmaster to collect himself.

Remus cleared his throat and began slowly, "Harry, you see... Albus is here for a couple more reasons."

Harry looked at his new guardian with a raised eyebrow, which caused the man to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Harry could guess that whatever they had to talk about was concerning Remus.

Harry had to admit, he was so eager to leave the Dursleys behind and find a new home that he didn't really question Remus about who he was and where he had been for the past few years.

The only thing that Harry knew that caused him to trust the man so much was the fact he was like a brother to his father. Though he did recall Snape referring to Remus as a creature, but then again it was Snape, when is he not insulting someone other than the headmaster.

Dumbledore seemed to notice Remus's reluctance and decided to take it on himself to start the conversation, "Are you familiar with magical ailments, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and admitted with a soft blush, "I didn't have the time to read on them since starting to put my mind into the books."

The old man chuckled before saying kindly, "Quite understandable. You will find that one of those ailments is lycanthropy, a condition created in one by being bitten by a werewolf during their transformation."

Harry nodded, before his eyes widened, all the pieces falling into place as he turned to look at Remus.

The wary man nodded somberly, "Yes. I was bitten as a child. Since then every full moon I'm transforming into a werewolf and not safe to be around."

Harry tilted his head, but the headmaster was quick to speak in Remus's defense, "Of course there is the Wolfsbane potion that allows the person to preserve his mind even during the transformation. While the potion is a bit expensive due to the complexity of its production..."

Harry immediately cut the old man off with a voice full of determination, "We have enough money Remus, so just buy as much as you need."

Dumbledore's open mouth closed into a wide and proud smile, while Remus's jaw dropped. After a moment he yelled in outrage, "Didn't you hear?! I'm a dangerous monster."

Harry tilted his head and retorted with a soft voice, "You are my uncle, my real one unlike Vernon. My parents knew and didn't care, and neither will I. You came and helped me, when no one else would, now I want to help you."

Remus used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the rogue tear that escaped his eyes as he said softly, and full of sincerity, "Thank you, Harry. You have no idea what it means to me."

Harry could just smile at the shabby man. His attention was drawn back to the third man in the room when he spoke, "I ask you to not tell anyone beyond those you absolutely trust the following news. Remus here is going to be next year's DADA professor. As such I will entrust the special training program I have prepared for you with him, be sure to listen to your teacher during the summer and use this time wisely." Then his voice took the same grandfatherly tone Harry was used to, "That being said, do not forget to enjoy these years of youth from time to time. Times like that will not last forever."

Harry nodded his head with a large smile on his face, "Thank you, Sir. I will be sure to find the balance between the two, and make all of you proud."

His brow then frowned, "You said there was another reason you stopped by."

The headmaster's smile disappeared, his face looked like it aged a decade, "That would be Sirius Black."

Harry's frown turned into a scowl.

He heard that name a lot in the last few days, but when he asked people always seemed to avoid the subject.

With a lot of curiosity and a sense of dread he tried to push away Harry asked, "What about Sirius Black? Who is he anyway? My grandma mentioned him, as well as you Remus, but..."

Dumbledore sighed heavily, "Sirius Black is a lot of things Harry... One of them is your godfather."

Harry's mind froze.

He had a godfather?! A magical one, that knew his parents. After all, according to the records his dad, Sirius, Remus and some guy named Peter were the Marauders during their Hogwarts years.

And still the only one he met so far was Remus. Sirius Black was mentioned a couple of times, but was always avoided as a subject of conversation, while this Peter was never even mentioned.

"He is also known as the traitor to the Potter house." Dumbledore finished painfully.

Harry's eyes widened for a moment, before they narrowed and he demanded, "What do you mean?"

It was Remus's turn to explain, "When Albus came to your parents with the warning that Voldemort was hunting them, and you, they went into hiding in one of the smaller Potter properties. Lily even found a spell that was cast around the house and hid its location from everyone except the secret keeper. And the secret keeper was the only one who could share the secret and reveal the location to others. Even I couldn't even though I knew where they were hiding."

His voice took on a sharp edge as he went on, "Sirius and James were like brothers. James took Sirius in to live in this mansion when his mother threw him out of the house. It was always the obvious choice that Sirius would be the secret keeper for the Potters. The fact that You-Know-Who managed to find and enter the cottage, meant that Sirius sold the location to him."

Anger. Anger was filling all of Harry's being right now.

Hate. He was feeling a hate so strong. He thought the only one who could cause Harry such a feeling was Tom Riddle, but now Sirius Black had managed to match the worst dark lord of the century.

One man.

Because of one man, Harry lost his parents. Because of one man, he was forced to live in hell for a decade. Every single bad thing that happened to him so far began because of one man.

"What happened to him?" Harry hissed, barely managing to stop himself from growling.

The old man let out another deep sigh, "After Tom attacked your home, he arrived to try and collect you. Why, I have no idea, but I ordered Hagrid to bring you directly to me and no one else. Sirius was reluctant but gave up easily enough. The next time we heard of him he was arrested in the middle of a muggle road after killing 12 muggles and Peter Pettigrew, who we assumed was trying to confront him about the deaths of James and Lily. He has been in Azkaban ever since. That is, until earlier today."

Remus and Harry froze in their seats and looked at the headmaster with growing dread. "Don't tell me..." Remus whispered.

Dumbledore nodded grimly, "The ministry confirmed that in the middle of last night Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban."

Chapter Text

"We believe he will be coming after you Harry." The headmaster dropped another bomb on them, "He escaped after a visit from the minister. Fudge allowed him to look through the newspaper and when he saw your picture on the front he began muttering 'he is there, I have to get there.'"

Harry's fists clenched and he said through gritted teeth, "Let him come."

Dumbledore sighed, "While I understand your anger Mr. Potter, please consider that before he was sent to Azkaban, Sirius Black was a promising auror, whose abilities could match your father's."

Harry glared at the old man and shouted, "What do you expect me to do? To just sit around safe houses and hope he never finds me? Or that he escapes the country and punishment for what he did to my parents?!"

The headmaster gave Harry a firm look and said in a stern voice, "Mr. Potter, the ministry has already begun hunting after Black, and we at Hogwarts are making our own preparations. Hopefully it won't fall to you to face Black. Alas, in the possibility it will, the most you can do at the moment is train, so when the time comes you will be able to at least hold him back long enough for us to arrive."

Damn it! Harry hated that the old man was right. Even after years in Azkaban chances were still that Black would kick his ass with a wand.

After all with all his skill, he was still bested by Lockhart a couple of months ago, which was really painful to admit.

Harry sighed and slumped back in his seat. He raised his head when he felt a hand laying on his shoulder, "Don't worry Harry, I will make sure he pays for what he did, and train you to hold your own in the meanwhile."

"Thank you, Remus." Harry said gratefully.

Remus chuckled kindly, "You should call me Uncle Moony, that's what your mom used to do around you."

Harry smiled wider. He liked the sound of it.

The headmaster then stood, with a kind smile on his face he said, "I shall take my leave then. Thank you, Mr. Potter, for the news you shared with me." His eyes then landed back on the shattered pieces of the cup he dropped, "Oh, allow me..." He said as if he just noticed them.

The old man's wand was out and in a blink of an eye a small swipe of his wrist made sure to fix the cup as if nothing had happened to it and floated it carefully back to the table's top.

With a small bow of his head he turned and left back to his office using the floo.

After the shock of what he saw passed the only thing Harry found himself mumbling was, "Show off."

Remus just chuckled while standing up to clear the table. Harry rose to help him when the older man shook his head and reminded him teasingly, "I believe you still owe a letter to a certain bushy-haired girl. If I learned something from your father during our Hogwarts years it would be the fact it is never wise to keep a lady waiting."

Harry felt warmth spreading across his chest at the same time he felt a shiver going down his spine. Remembering that he really did promise to write Hermione the soonest he could. It was three days ago.

With a small gulp he turned and ran back toward his new room. Once he entered there, he found parchment and a quill already laid on his table.

Harry frowned, the only thing coming to mind was, "Dobby?"

The house-elf appeared with a soft pop and immediately went on one of his usual rambles, "Master Harry was saying to Wolfy that he wants to write a letter to his Grangy. Dobby is being sure Master Harry has everything for a letter. Did Master Harry need something else from Dobby?"

Harry blinked twice, and filed away the fact that Dobby was listening in on their conversation for future reference.

But when he looked down at the elf he almost choked on his own spit.

Dobby was wearing three kinds of vests all on top of each other. Both his feet had socks on them, different socks. And on top of his head there were four types of hats that the elf somehow managed to balance, probably with magic.

"Ummm, Dobby what are you wearing?" Harry couldn't help himself asking.

Dobby smiled widely, "Master Harry told Dobby, Dobby can wear whatever he wants."

Harry blinked twice, "I mean yes, but I was thinking... I mean you could, I just..." Eventually he just sighed and with a small smile said to the little creature, "You look good Dobby."

Dobby's eyes began to shine with happy tears again as he bounced in place screaming, "Master Harry is too nice to Dobby, saying Dobby is dressed good, Master Harry really is the greatest wizard."

Dobby left with another soft pop after that, leaving Harry to chuckle at the house-elf's antics.

Harry sat down at his table and after a long moment of consideration he began writing.

Dearest Hermione,

I hope that the last few days have been good to you, and you got the chance to catch up with your parents. I learned a lot in the last few days, not everything I can tell you in this letter.

Before you start ranting about me not telling you stuff you want to know, it's not that I don't want to it's more like I can't. Some of those things are private family matters that for now should stay between me and Remus, while other things are protected by magic to stay a secret.

I know you have a large thirst for knowledge Hermione, and that's something I really like about you. It's something that has even saved our arses a few times in the last two years, but I have to admit there are times you can get too pushy about subjects that you are not necessarily supposed to be a part of. So while I know it will probably frustrate you, all I ask is that you take a moment and understand that some things are just supposed to stay secret. Just like I won't expect you to tell me every detail about every family interaction you have.

Well, if you are still reading and haven't thrown away the parchment with a huff already, I promise you that we will talk when we get the chance to meet face to face about everything I can tell you.

Just tell me where and when we can meet and I would love to spend time with you this summer, even invite you to where me and Remus are staying. And yes, don't worry, me and Remus found a safe and good place to stay.

What I can tell you now is that Remus is going to be our Professor for DADA next year, and he starts training me tomorrow, for a complicated set of reasons.

Hope to hear from you soon.

With love, Harry.

Harry reread the letter three times. Always wincing at the middle paragraph. He really hoped Hermione wouldn't be too offended by what he wrote, but no matter how much he liked the girl she had her flaws just like he had his, and like he tried to make himself better he thought he should voice a few issues she had as well.

Harry wouldn't force her to change them if she didn't want to, and he would stay her friend for as long as she wanted to, but anything else would have to be treated with more care.

So, with that in mind, he rolled the parchment and waited for Hedwig to land on his window frame before tying the parchment to her leg and sending her off.

It was around a day later that Harry stood in one of the training rooms of the mansion, wand in his hand and sweat running down his brow.

Across from him Remus stood calmly and casually, with his own wand directed at Harry. The older man nodded in approval, "You achieved a decent grasp of the shield charm for one day of training, we will keep working on it. But there is something else you should consider. What is the best way to avoid being hit by an unknown curse?"

"You cast the best shield you can." Harry gave the most obvious answer.

Remus shook his head in disapproval, "And what if the curse is too strong for even your best shield to stop, like the unforgivables? Not to mention that doing so repeatedly will drain your magical core and leave you at a disadvantage to retaliate once you find an opening."

Harry nodded along with the man's points. He hated the fact he never considered such obvious things that limited him before. "What should I do then?" He asked with a frown.

Remus smiled a little, "The best thing you can do is not be there when the curse hits. Purebloods are lazy due to their luxurious upbringing. You could probably outlast most of them in a test of endurance. So you should keep moving, avoid being in a single place for long, and once you see them start to tire from their constant curse throwing you shoot your own spell."

Then the smile turned into a smirk, and he used a mischievous voice, "Let's make a deal. I will allow you five minutes to fire at me as many hexes as you want, and afterwards I get to do the same. Sounds fair?"

"Yes." Harry answered at the same time he released three consecutive sting hexes in a widespread.

Harry watched with wide eyes as the older man avoided all his hexes with impossible agility and speed.

Remus chuckled, "Didn't I mention before? Werewolf's agility, strength and speed are above normal humans. A small advantage to a terrible situation." His voice then turned slightly mocking, "You still have four more minutes."

Harry narrowed his eyes and brought his wand up, the hex already half way through his lips.

Another hour later Harry dropped exhausted on his bed.

The training with Remus was brutal, but he could feel how efficient it was even as they were doing it.

Harry learned a lot in the past day. Remus was a great teacher, which would be a first in next year's DADA class.

He just took a shower to wash off all the sweat and frustration away. Frustration that began to creep back with his mind going backwards.

He didn't manage to hit Remus once, while the older man managed to make his ass sore for hours to come.

Just as Harry was about to reach and rub his ass-cheek from the sting he could still feel there a soft knock on his window drew his attention.

Harry jumped from his bed toward the window once he saw Hedwig waiting there with a letter strapped to her leg.

He opened the window, and his other hand went straight toward a pouch hanging next to his window with some owl treats in it. He let Hedwig munch on her treats while he untied the letter from his familiar's leg.

He sat on his bed, the folded paper clenched in his hands. He knew he really shouldn't be scared to open it, Hermione wasn't the kind to write some spiteful letter back, but the words he had written her echoed in his mind and caused him to wince a little.

Even if what he said was truth and he only said it because he wanted to help his crush, there was still the part of Harry that was the unloved orphan who was scared to lose his best friend.

Still... Only one way to find out. With a deep breath he unfolded the paper and began reading.

Dear Harry,

I'm so glad to hear you and Mr. Lupin... sorry Professor Lupin, found a good and safe place to stay. I was very worried about you and considered stopping at the Leaky Cauldron to see if you were renting there. You took your time to write me a letter.

Harry felt another shiver go down his spine reading the last line, and he resolved himself to write more often. He didn't want to be on Hermione's bad side.

You are right Harry. I'm frustrated and want to know exactly what you learned while I was away, but I also know that there are things that are not concerning me and should stay private, even if I don't like that. I'm sorry if I was pushy in the past and made you uncomfortable because of that. I will try to rein my curiosity in from time to time, and I hope if I am going past any boundaries that you will let me know, I won't be mad if you do.

Harry released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Me and my parents are leaving tomorrow for a week to a vacation in France, something we do every couple of years, so I won't be able to meet you, though I still expect you to write. Can you ask Professor Lupin if I can join your training for the rest of the summer afterwards?

Harry chuckled at the usual bossy attitude he had come to associate with Hermione, for better or worse.

I will be sure to wait for your next letter, which I hope will be soon... Can Hedwig even fly as far as France? If not just use usual mail to deliver it to the address I added at the bottom of the page.

Yours, Hermione.

Chapter Text

Hermione set her suitcase on the neatly made bed and paused, letting her eyes wander to the open balcony doors where sheer curtains danced in the sea breeze.

The room was bright and airy, with soft white walls, pale wooden floors, and a faint scent of salt clinging to the morning air. Beyond the railing, she could just make out the curve of the coastline—sandy stretches broken by jagged rocks, and waves that rolled in quietly under a pale blue sky.

It was beautiful here. Peaceful. Very different from the stone corridors of Hogwarts or the heavy silence of the hospital wing. She brushed her fingers over the linen bedspread, grounding herself. This was supposed to be a week to relax—to recover.

And though a small part of her still felt tense, as if she were waiting for something to go wrong, another part of her—quieter, but stronger—wanted to let the calm in. Just for a little while.

She loved those vacations with her parents but this year she felt like there were better things she could do than relax on some beach in France.

She spent two months of the last year in the hospital wing, unable to move, speak, read, nothing at all. If it wasn't for Harry she would have lost her mind.

But thankfully her best friend had a heart of gold and a rather clever mind, more so than he let on for the past couple of years.

He would tell her, and apparently everyone else in the hospital wing, about what was happening around the school, about their latest charm lessons or potions and so on... Well, Hermione supposed it was less useful to some upperclassmen like Penelope, but she was sure it was at least entertaining enough for them to not go crazy.

The thought of her best friend caused her heart rate to increase for a moment.

Since they became friends over a year and a half ago, it was obvious to her that Harry's friendship with Ron was more important to him than theirs, and while she kept calling him her best friend from the bottom of her heart she resigned herself to the reality she would always be his second-best friend after Ron Weasley.

Something that was a little hard to accept at times because of her own feelings toward the ginger annoyance.

But something changed in Harry, now that she thinks about it, it began after he found the note in her hand.

She is still a little mad it took him an entire month to find that. Then again, when he took her frozen hand in his warm one, for a moment she felt as if she was floating on air rather than stuck on the same bed for a month.

Before that, Harry would talk about the usual random stuff around the school, but after that he began showing more personality.

He shared his opinion on a lot of different things, he described trips he did to the library and different books he read there.

It was nice to get to know the real Harry better. She wished she could have responded to him, and told him more about herself as well, but she won't complain about what she got, and maybe, just maybe, soon enough they will be able to have a more two sided conversation like the ones he had with her at nights inside of the hospital wing.

Hermione shook her head with a small heat spreading on her cheeks.

How did she reach that topic? Oh yeah, she tried to point out that she had better things to do rather than spend her time in a hotel in France.

Harry apparently now has a place where he can practice magic during the summer. She would love the extra practice after all the classes she is missing, and he is even living with a professor! Hermione had to admit it, but she was a little jealous of Harry at the moment.

Hermione took a deep breath and reminded herself that Harry promised to talk with her after she came back and he would surely invite her to visit and train with him and professor Lupin.

Maybe she really should just focus on taking this week and relax with her parents, she sees so little of them since she began attending Hogwarts.

Just as she thought that her mom entered the room, carrying a suitcase of her own, her dad probably still busy lugging around the rest of them.

Hermione giggled in her mind as she thought about what her grandfather said to her dad a few days ago. 'I pity you son, going on vacation with two women is man's worst nightmare.'

Her mom smiled when she saw the improved mood Hermione was in, "I see you're finally getting into the spirit, Sweety."

Hermione smiled apologetically to her mom, "Sorry mom, it wasn't that I didn't want to come mom, I just think there were other things I should be doing, after all I was bedridden for two months."

Her mom sighed heavily at the reminder of it. Her parents were very worried about her and even sent a letter to Hogwarts, a letter Harry answered with the brutal truth she had no intention of telling her parents at first. "I understand Sweety, but that was a stressful experience for all of us. I think a little calming rest is exactly what we need for the start of the summer." She ended cheerfully.

Hermione nodded with a smile, "I agree, mom. I didn't realize how much I need it. Thank you."

Hermione suddenly felt the warm embrace of her mother as the older woman whispered, "We only want the best for you, dear."

"I know mom, I know." Hermione whispered as she hugged her back.

Her dad walked in exactly at that moment, carrying four suitcases with him. He stopped in the entrance to the room and asked helplessly, "What did I miss?"

The sun was warm on her skin, heavy in a comforting way, like a thick quilt she didn't mind being buried under. Hermione lay back on the slightly scratchy fabric of the tanning bed, her arms stretched loosely at her sides, sunglasses shielding her eyes from the bright Breton sky above. The soft crash of waves rolled in from the shore in a steady rhythm, occasionally broken by laughter—children running along the water's edge, someone calling for a beach ball, the singsong murmur of French carried on the wind.

Her mother was beside her on the neighboring bed, humming faintly as she tilted her face to the sun. Her dad had wandered off ten minutes ago, promising cold drinks and likely getting distracted by something informative. Hermione smiled faintly at the thought but didn't open her eyes.

She resisted the urge to reach for the nonexistent book in her beach bag—twice already. Her mother had made her leave it behind at the hotel, with that soft but immovable tone that only mothers could truly master: "You need to rest, darling. Not your mind—your everything." And maybe, for once, her mother had been right.

It was... strange, lying there with nothing to read, nothing to do, just herself and the sun and the echoing world around her. Strange, too, to be wearing a two-piece bikini for the first time in her life. It was deep navy blue with thin white trim, nothing extravagant, but it still felt bold. Her mother had helped her pick it out just the day before, insisting she had the figure for it, but Hermione couldn't help glancing—discreetly—at the elegant women passing by with flowing sarongs and effortless grace. Some were tanned like sun goddesses, lounging with lazy perfection. Others strolled confidently with their partners, not a single awkward step in sight.

Hermione shifted slightly, crossing one ankle over the other. She wasn't one of them. She knew that. But for once, she wasn't buried in her robes or worrying about exams or trying to remember the counter-curse for some obscure jinx. There were no school corridors, no castle shadows, no mirrors showing her stiff in a hospital bed.

Just sun. And sand. And air.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like the girl who was almost turned to stone.

She was just... Hermione. A girl with unruly hair, slightly awkward elbows, a quiet mind trying to be quiet for a day. Resting.

Maybe she could get used to this.

That was until she could feel something subtle in the air. A little shimmer of magic flowing around in the breeze.

The feeling was similar to the one she got on the grounds of Hogwarts when people were using magic, but on a much smaller scale.

But it wasn't just the kind of magic she was used to; it was something different. Magic she usually felt and ignored, she got used to it in the past couple of years, but the sort of magic she felt now demanded her attention.

It was like her eyes were forced to focus on a pair of girls playing just at the edge of the water.

The first girl she noticed caused her to inhale sharply, and her heart to skip a beat. She looked a couple of years older than her, maybe 15 or 16 years old. She had a mature figure with long flowing blonde hair and smooth, pale skin. She was wearing a bikini like Hermione's but hers was pale blue and looked much smaller on her figure.

Hermione tried to calm her heart and move her eyes away from the older teen, but she couldn't find the strength in herself to do so.

The bushy haired girl never considered herself one to be attracted to other girls. The only person she was ever attracted to was Harry, with his lean, athletic body, messy hair and deep green eyes.

The teen in front of her was something different, and still Hermione couldn't find it in herself to deny the attraction she felt right now. It was a feeling so overwhelming that she wanted to go and speak with her.

Fortunately, she had enough willpower to at least not embarrass herself that much, it was already bad she was practically drooling over the older teen as it was.

Her cheeks burned when she remembered her mother was still next to her. Hermione turned her head slowly to see her mom had her eyes closed under her own sunglasses and almost let out a sigh of relief.

When she looked back at the pair of girls she was staring at, most of the spell she felt under disappeared and she noticed the second girl.

That one was younger than Hermione herself, maybe 10 years old, her own blonde hair was tied in a simple pigtail style. She was wearing a one-piece, white swimsuit. The girl was bouncing trying to reach for something the older girl was waving above her head.

Hermione's eyes widened when she noticed the tree branch the older girl was waving in the air in a very familiar pattern.

The only logical conclusion was that the gorgeous teen was a witch!

Now Hermione really wanted to get up and talk with her. There was so much she wanted to ask the older teen about magical France and their own magical school.

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. If this was happening last summer, the choice would be clear. Stay on the bed and try to ignore the curiosity.

But the last year opened her up a lot. Between Harry paying her more attention and giving her more confidence, to the couple of study sessions she had with Susan and Daphne in the beginning of the year, and even Tonks, the new friend she acquired during the train ride back. She felt like socializing was not the horrible experience she was used to from her childhood.

Maybe there was also some residue of the spell she felt earlier because suddenly Hermione found herself standing up from her bed and walking toward the pair of girls she was rudely staring at for the past few minutes.

As she got closer behind the older teen, Hermione's heart rate kept going up. Until she finally took a deep breath and spoke in English, "Excuse me."

The beautiful smile playing on the older teen's lips faded away into a natural look as she turned toward Hermione, raised a perfect eyebrow at her and asked in a heavy French accent, "Oui?"

Chapter Text

Okay. So the girl was French. Hermione assumed so, because of her looks and how comfortable she looked around the beach.

It was a good thing her parents convinced Hermione to learn French to a decent level before their last trip to France, which ended up being a tour around Paris a couple of years ago.

She didn't want to look like a fool in case the girl was a tourist too and would have no idea what Hermione was saying so she tried English first.

But now that she heard the accent of the older teen, she knew French was the better approach here, though she felt kind of intimidated by the look the blonde was giving her.

Still Hermione put a small smile on her face and spoke in heavily accented French, "I am sorry to disturb you while you are playing with your sister. My name is Hermione Granger, and I have an odd question to ask if you wouldn't mind."

Hermione hoped she was right in assuming the two were sisters. They had the same shade of blonde hair, the same perfect pale skin, and now that she was close enough to them, the same ocean blue eyes.

While the girl in front of her didn't quite smile back at Hermione, her expression as well as her tone softened as she replied pleasantly, "Bonjour, my name is Fleur, and the little one is my sister Gabrielle. What is it that you wanted to ask?"

Hermione hoped she was right or what she was going to do next would be very close to breaking the law, though she had to admit it wouldn't be the first time she would do so thanks to Harry. "You see, I'm a student at Hogwarts, and I couldn't help but notice the way you were moving the branch in your hand. Do you by any chance have any idea what I'm talking about?"

Fleur's eyes widened for a moment before she let out a small giggle, her blinding smile returned to her face as she spoke, "Oui. I myself am a student at Beauxbatons Academy, I will be a sixth year during the next term. I'm surprised you noticed Ms. Granger, I was trying to be subtle considering it is mainly a muggle area."

Hermione's smile widened, she recognized the name of the French magical academy, which meant she was right. "Please just call me Hermione. I guess maybe I learned to pay more attention to my surroundings since I started hanging around Harry." Hermione replied, trying to hide the odd magic she felt in the air and the reaction it drew from her.

Fleur's smooth face frowned, and she asked, "'Arry? Are you perhaps referring to 'Arry Potter?"

Hermione realized her mistake too late, and all she could do was nod and make the mistake even worse by weakly adding, "I'm his best friend."

Fleur's eyebrows jumped to her hairline, but before she could say anything something tugged at her arm.

They both looked down to see Gabrielle staring between the two of them and asking in French, "Did she say 'Arry Potter? She knows 'Arry Potter?!" The little girl's voice grew more excited with the possibility.

Fleur sighed in mock exasperation before looking down at her little sister with a smile, "Yes Gabby, she is his friend from Hogwarts." The older teen then looked back at Hermione and opened her mouth, "She is a fan so..."

Before Fleur could finish her explanation the miniature version of the angel was bouncing between the two, her blue eyes shining with excitement as she began asking rapidly, "Is he like in the books? Did you join him on his adventures? Is he handsome in real life? Does he have a sword?"

The little girl only stopped when Fleur put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back to stand still on the ground.

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer the girl. She knew the books she referred to, she read a couple of them, until she met the real Harry and realized all of them were a pile of lies desecrating the temple that is the libraries.

Luckily, before she had to deal with it a new French voice joined the conversation, "And who is the lovely lady you two seem to be captivated by, dears?"

Hermione turned and for the second time that day her heart began to race at the sight in front of her.

In front of her stood another copy of Fleur, this one though did look a little older. Maybe she was in her early 20's, but even that was a little stretched. The woman had the same blonde hair as the two younger French girls, but hers stopped a little above her shoulders.

The woman was wearing a bikini of her own, hers was soft pink color and it sat on her body in the same way Fleur's did on hers.

She was a little taller than Fleur and had a little more curves. Hermione shook her head before she spoke without thinking again, why did she keep doing it today?! "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and I guess you are Fleur's and Gabrielle's older sister."

The three blondes chuckled, before the woman spoke with a wide grin, "Why thank you, though I'm afraid I must correct you, my name is Apolline Delacour, I am their mother."

Hermione could feel her jaw drop. How could it be?! She looked far too young to have even one daughter, far less two, and one of them is older than Hermione!

Fleur giggled before turning to the older woman, "Maman, 'Ermione is a student at Hogwarts and is a friend of 'Arry Potter."

Apolline's eyes flashed with understanding and then amusement, "I see why my daughters find you interesting. Unfortunately, this place does not suit a conversation like that." Her eyes then moved to her daughters and she added with a sharp edge to her tone, "We wouldn't want to cause your father any problems at work, now, would we?"

Both girls looked away and mumbled back, "No, Maman."

Before anything else could be said another voice, this one familiar to Hermione joined them, "And what is going on here?"

Hermione turned with a small blush toward her mother and spoke quickly, "Mom, these are Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother Apolline Delacour." She saw the brief look of shock pass in her mom's eyes when she mentioned Apolline was the mother, Hermione could relate, still she pushed on, "Fleur attends the French equivalent of Hogwarts."

Now understanding settled in her mother's brown eyes as she smiled brightly, "What a surprising pleasure to meet you. My name is Emma Granger."

In that moment her dad ran toward them with three cold bottles in his hands while calling out to them, "I brought the drinks!" He froze when he noticed the three additional females. Hermione noticed the worried look that crossed the faces of the Delacour women, but then her father whimpered, "Please don't send me for another three, the vendor is so far away."

Hermione and Emma rolled their eyes at his overreaction. Her dad was always so dramatic, then again maybe he had to be one to be such a big Shakespeare fan.

"Dan. Behave yourself, and don't be so rude to Hermione's new friends." Her mom admonished her dad, and Hermione wanted to protest about the friend comment. She really just exchanged a couple of sentences with the girls.

But when she looked over to the blondes, she saw their eyes shining with pleasant surprise for some odd reason.

Apolline smiled widely before offering with a pleasant tone, "How about the three of you join us in our home for lunch. Our daughters will be able to speak about their studies freely, as well as stories about her friend."

Her dad looked at her mom, waiting for her decision. Emma smiled widely, "What a lovely offer. We would love to join you."

Hermione hadn't known what to expect when Fleur offered, with that elegant toss of her hair and effortless grace, to show them her family's home—but it certainly wasn't this.

The Château de Luneclaire stood nestled against the curve of the hillside, its pale stone walls glowing under the afternoon sun like they'd been polished by starlight. It wasn't towering or cold like the castles in fairy tales—instead, it felt timeless, as though it had always been there, watching the sea and dreaming in the wind. Soft silver tiles crowned the rooftops, catching the sunlight in a shimmer that almost looked enchanted. Tall windows blinked in the light, framed by shutters painted a soft, smoky blue. Delicate ivy climbed along the edges of the walls like nature itself had chosen to decorate, but somehow never overstepped.

Hermione adjusted the strap of her sundress—a pale yellow cotton thing her mum had picked for their beach holiday—and tried not to feel too aware of how casual she must look next to Fleur's flowing cover-up, Gabrielle's delicate sandals, and Apolline Delacour's regal composure, even in something as simple as a wrap and sunhat. Her mum wore a light floral dress and matching sunglasses, cheerful as ever, while her dad brought up the rear, still drying his arms with a beach towel.

They didn't look like guests approaching a magical manor.

They looked like tourists.

But the Delacours didn't seem to notice. Or if they did, they said nothing—just smiled warmly and kept chatting, as though guiding new friends through ancient family grounds was the most natural thing in the world.

The garden leading up to the château made Hermione's breath catch a little. It wasn't sculpted in the harsh, showy way she'd seen in magazines—this was gentler, more lived-in, like magic had helped the plants grow exactly where they wanted to be. Lavender bushes swayed gently along the path, filling the air with a soft, clean fragrance. Low golden roses curled in careful bunches beneath the windows, and there were pale blue wildflowers lining the flagstone walkway that looked like something out of a Beauxbatons fairytale.

Tiny silver-winged insects—not quite butterflies—hovered over the blooms, flitting from flower to flower. She didn't recognize them, but they shimmered faintly as they moved, leaving trails of light that faded like soft sighs.

Her mum whispered, "Oh, it's beautiful," and her dad gave a low, appreciative whistle, clearly as taken with the place as Hermione was.

Hermione, for once, said nothing. She simply walked slowly, eyes wide behind her sunglasses, heart beating a little faster from a mix of heat, wonder, and nerves she couldn't quite shake.

The moment they stepped inside, Hermione felt the shift—the kind of subtle hush that came from powerful enchantments and old magic. But there was no weight to it. No sense of danger. Just warmth.

The living room opened into high, whitewashed ceilings crossed with pale wooden beams. The stone walls were softened by long, sheer drapes and sunlight that poured in like golden syrup through the tall arched windows. A pair of elegant couches faced one another near a marble fireplace, upholstered in deep sea green and soft gray. Small floating orbs of warm light hovered near the ceiling like lazy fireflies, humming faintly with a charm she didn't recognize.

Paintings lined the walls—dreamy landscapes, magical creatures in flight, a family portrait or two—but none of them moved. Everything felt personal. Lived-in. Not staged.

She noticed her mother pause to admire the paintings, while her father made a quiet remark about the craftsmanship of the fireplace. Fleur glided across the room like a dancer, pausing to offer everyone a seat, her smile gracious and sincere.

Hermione stayed standing for a moment longer, taking it all in.

She didn't feel like she belonged here.

But she also didn't feel unwelcome.

It wasn't long before Apolline called them all to the dining hall, where the dining table was set for all of them, with a wide variety of foods already spread across the table as well.

As they all sat down around the table Hermione found herself seated between Fleur and Gabrielle at one side of the table.

Her mom sat right across the table from her, her dad on her left side and Apolline on the right.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from looking over the wide selection of French cuisine set before her, wondering where she should start and if she should eat at all in the present company.

She also wondered how the older woman could prepare so much food in such a short time, a question that was answered when Apolline called out seemingly to an empty spot, "Thank you Janny, the food looks delicious."

With a soft pop a small creature appeared, she had grey skin, long ears and large eyes. She was wearing a dress with flower patterns on it and a wide smile saying cheerfully, "It is my pleasure, Madam." And with a soft pop the creature was gone again.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask about what just happened when someone new entered the dining room with a large smile.

Chapter Text

The Grangers all froze when an average height man, slightly balding, wearing glasses and very fancy robes entered the room with a wide smile on his face and spoke in smooth English, "I heard we have some delightful guests today, I simply could not stay at work, after all it is not every day my daughter makes new friends."

The man had a mischievous light in his eyes, and he received the very same reaction he was probably expecting, which was Fleur whining, "Papa! You can't tell them that!"

The man laughed cheerfully and took a seat at the head of the table before he bowed his head slightly and introduced himself, "Excuse my rude entrance, I couldn't help myself. My name is Alain Delacour."

As usual her mother was first to offer a polite, "It's a pleasure. My name is Emma, my husband is Dan and our daughter Hermione. Might I ask what it is you work at?"

Alain looked very happy with the response and replied with a cheerful response, "Why the pleasure is all mine, Emma. As to what I do, I'm the head of the ministry's magical law enforcement department. You might be familiar with Madam Amelia Bones, who is my counterpart in the English ministry."

Before her mom could say anything, Hermione spoke up, "I'm sorry, Sir, but I am muggle-born you see, so my parents are muggles and not very familiar with the magical side of our country."

Hermione had to hold her breath as to what response she would receive. So far, she had received two kinds of receptions to her status. The first response she had received was disdain, the second one was ordinary acceptance.

While these people looked nice enough, by the mansion, portraits and their father's work it was obvious they were an old magical family, the kind that usually looked down on her kind. So she wasn't sure what response she would receive here.

Alain's cheerful smile turned sympathetic, "Worry not young miss, you will find no bigotry in this home, our family knew a fair share of it before."

Hermione frowned, "But, it's obvious you are an old magical family, probably pure-bloods."

Apolline smiled kindly at the girl, "My husband is in fact what you English would call a Pure-blood. But you see, me and my daughters are Veelas"

Hermione tilted her head, the name doesn't ring any bells in her mind, "I'm sorry ma'am, I don't think I have heard of a Veela before."

Fleur gave Hermione a kind smile, "Veela is a being of desire. We are the evolution of the old sirens in the myths."

Alain nodded his head, "You probably never heard of them before because in Britain they would be classed as magical creatures..." She could hear the clear disdain in the man's voice, "The same people who look down at you because of the circumstances of your birth, would see my wife and children as nothing but toys for their pleasure."

Hermione felt horrified by the very idea, "That's why there aren't any Veelas in Britain?"

Alain nodded with a serious look on his face that didn't match the personality she had seen from the man so far, "About a century ago, there was something that later came to be known as the big exchange. Britain was always known to be a den for bigotry while France was known as intolerable for that sort of behaviour. As such during that period of time many bigoted families escaped prosecution in France, like the Malfoy family, while many sentient magical species that wouldn't be recognized by the British ministry moved to France"

Hermione allowed the information to sink in, and as much as she tried to suppress it, she couldn't stop herself from yelling, outraged, "But... But Hogwarts history didn't mention anything like that! How can it be possible?!"

It was her mother that let out an exhausted sigh and talked with her with the same tone she always did when Hermione missed something obvious, "Do you really think any country would allow news like that to be spread, dear. Especially a corrupted government like the one Alain suggests ours is."

Hermione sputtered for a moment. Her mom could not be serious! Those people were chosen for these positions, they promised to promote what was best for all the citizens. But then again...

She was drawn from her internal crisis by Alain's gentle voice, "Now, I wouldn't go so far Emma. There are good people in your ministry as well, like Madam Bones. Unfortunately, she is limited by the foolishness of a minister your country has had for the past few years. I dare say if she were elected in the next term, there would be big changes in Britain."

"Well, all we can do is cross our fingers and hope." Her dad joked.

Hermione stayed silent for this. She would talk about it with Harry and Susan later, maybe there was something they could do to push Madam Bones forward and increase her chances.

Instead, she turned to Fleur and asked with a small smile, "You said Veela is a being of desire, how so?"

Fleur hummed and asked pleasantly while taking a graceful bite from a familiar dish, "Are you familiar with the sirens of the mythology?"

Hermione nodded, "They used to draw sailors in with their songs and then sank their ships."

Fleur turned to her with a smile, "Yes. Veela has something similar. It's ambient magic that's called allure. The basic of it is that we release magic that brings out the desire of those in range. It mostly works on males, and causes them to become a drooling mess." She finished with a roll of her eyes.

Apolline then smiled politely at her mother and said, "Of course there are those who are immune to the allure effects, and that's the men who are truly in love already."

Emma just returned the smile, "Oh you don't have to worry, I know Dan loves me too much to ever look at anyone else, no matter how young and beautiful they are."

"I was in love with you since we were 19! Of course you are the only one for me Honey." Her dad spoke with a passionate voice.

Her mom giggled and pecked her dad on his lips.

Apolline smiled widely and said, "Well, you are certainly a pleasant company to keep, how about staying here for dinner as well?"

Gabrielle then began bouncing on her seat with a pout on her face, Hermione had a little hard time following her rapid French, "Yes! I still didn't ask about 'Arry Potter. I want to hear stories!"

Apolline looked sternly at her youngest daughter and spoke firmly, "Gabby! Behave yourself. This is a very rude way to ask for..."

Hermione chuckled a little, cutting the mother off. The English girl then said pleasantly, "It's okay. I did promise her some stories."

Apolline sighed and shook her head while Gabrielle returned to bouncing on her seat with excitement.

Hermione smiled sadly at the girl, "I'm sorry to tell you Gabrielle, but those books are all lies. Harry never fought a dragon, or rescued a princess."

The Gryffindor noticed Fleur wasn't very surprised by the revelation. She either was never a fan like her sister, or she was old enough, and with an ounce of common sense unlike those in Britain, to understand a five year old couldn't defeat a dragon.

Gabrielle, on the other hand didn't take the news so well if the tears gathering in her eyes, were any indication.

Hermione looked at her parents. Alain mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'I told you'. Apolline shot him a quick glare before looking at her daughter with worry.

Hermione couldn't bear the young girl's heartbreak like that so with a cheerful tone she added, "But I can tell the real stories!"

Gabrielle wiped the unshed tears from her wide, blue eyes as she asked rather timidly, "Real stories?"

Hermione nodded with a small smile, "During our first year Harry fought a mountain troll. Then he flew his first quidditch match and won it by catching the snitch with his mouth. We ended the year with going through traps set by the teachers, until Harry was left alone and fought against a bad wizard. This year he had to fight a giant snake and another bad wizard that wanted to hurt a lot of students. The headmaster even gave him a reward at the end of the year."

Gabrielle had stars in her eyes, her bouncing grew even more energetic, "I want to hear! I want to hear about the big snake and the bad wizard. I want to hear about the troll!"

Fleur's jaw was slack for a long moment before she shook her head and chuckled. When she spoke she did so in heavily accented English, so her sister wouldn't understand I assume, "Eet iz very kind of you, to eenvate such stories for Gabby's good."

Hermione shook her head with a small smile, admitting carefully, "None of them are lies. I was there for most of it and can tell you first hand."

Fleur's jaw dropped back down. Apolline looked wide eyed as did her parents.

Alain leaned in with narrow eyes, "I would be very interested in hearing such stories myself. I doubt my own conclusions but when you speak of giant snake, you can't possibly mean..." He paused before speaking in a quiet voice, "A basilisk."

Hermione winced and nodded.

The look her parents were giving her demanded answers as well.

Well she already opened her big mouth, it's not like she could take all she said back. She already insisted it was all true, and it would surely break Gabrielle's heart.

Apolline stood up and clapped her hands, "I suggest we wait until dinner to hear all the stories Hermione has to tell us. We should all move to other rooms so the dining room can be prepared for the next meal."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should be grateful for the delay or curse her luck.

Her parents decided to stay in the living room to talk a little with the Delacour parents.

Gabrielle skipped off toward her room, saying something about getting ready to write about the stories Hermione would tell.

And Fleur offered her to talk a little in her room.

The moment Fleur pushed open the pale silver door, Hermione had to stop herself from audibly gasping.

Fleur's bedroom was exactly what she imagined a princess's room might look like if magic and impeccable taste came together in perfect harmony. The walls were painted a soft, powdery blue that reminded Hermione of summer skies just before dusk, and the entire room seemed to glow with a gentle, pearly light that had no clear source. Silver accents glinted subtly from the trim of the high ceiling and the polished handles of delicate furniture, making the space feel airy and regal without being overdone.

A large canopy bed dominated the far side of the room, draped in sheer, fluttering fabric that shimmered faintly when it caught the light. The comforter was pale blue silk with faint silver embroidery in swirling patterns that looked suspiciously like enchantments—she wouldn't be surprised if it adjusted its warmth automatically. Fleur's wand lay gracefully on a side table beside a trio of tiny perfume bottles, each one sparkling as if filled with captured starlight.

As Hermione stepped further in, her eyes landed on an enchanted mirror above a narrow vanity—its surface occasionally rippling as though responding to Fleur's presence. Along one wall, a set of moving photographs in elegant frames displayed moments of Fleur and Gabrielle at various ages—laughing in a garden, dancing barefoot on a marble floor, hugging their parents under the same silver roof. The images were tender and vibrant, filled with life.

She smiled to herself.

And then she saw the bookshelf.

It stretched from floor to ceiling along the left-hand wall, filled with well-kept hardcovers, polished leather bindings, and—to her horror and delight—an elegant brass sign hanging above it that read "Bibliothèque Privée de Fleur." Fleur's Private Library.

"Oh, you have your own library?" Hermione blurted, not even trying to keep the envy out of her voice. It wasn't bitter, just... incredulous. "That's not fair."

Fleur laughed, stepping around her toward a wardrobe in the corner that opened on its own with a graceful click. Inside, clothes floated gently on hangers, shifting as though considering their own order before settling into place.

"Ze wardrobe, she does not like clutter," Fleur said with a shrug that somehow managed to be both elegant and amused. "I used to make a mess when I was young—she would slap doors shut in protest."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "I think my wardrobe at home is afraid of me."

Despite herself, she felt something like comfort settle in her chest. The room was beautiful—elegant, curated, refined—everything Fleur embodied on the surface. But there were touches of familiarity too. Warmth. Magic woven with personality. Books. Family. Even a little disorder, corrected only by enchanted furniture with a mind of its own.

It was Fleur's space—undeniably.

Hermione took another moment to admire the room when Fleur drew her attention back by asking in easy French, "You seemed very interested about the allure, any particular reason Hermione?"

Hermione blushed and shook her head in denial. Until all of a sudden she felt the same pull again, her eyes were forcibly drawn back to Fleur and what Hermione saw at the moment was an angel.

Her mind suddenly cleared and the pull was gone. Fleur was smirking as she said casually, "I thought so."

Hermione looked down and asked quietly, "I thought only men were affected by the allure."

Fleur shrugged, a smile still playing on her face, "It's mostly men, but a more accurate thing to say would be everyone who is attracted to females."

"But... But... I never... I don't..." Hermione began to sputter. Before she looked away and mumbled weakly, "I don't know if I am."

Hermione turned her head when she felt a comforting hand wrapping around her shoulder. She looked up at the comforting smile of the older teen, "You don't have to know yet. And there is nothing wrong if you are attracted to other girls, I know I am. You can take your time and figure it out in your own time."

Hermione blushed, but still smiled widely, feeling much better after those words, "Thank you Fleur."

Fleur smiled back, "We are friends, Mione. You can always talk with me from now on. Be it boys, girls or just studies." She finished with a tease that increased the blush coloring Hermione's face.

Chapter Text

Hermione was sitting in the guest room that was given to her in Château de Luneclaire, the Delacour manor.

After their first joint meal it was obvious both the pair of parents as well as the three daughters forged a quick bond and the Delacours invited the Grangers to stay at their estate for the rest of their vacation.

An offer the Grangers were more than willing to accept after the house-elf of the French family volunteered to pick up their stuff from the villa they rented.

Hermione decided she should send a letter to Harry and see how he was doing. She pulled out paper and a pen, she was really surprised by how modern the Delacour estate actually was.

Dear Harry,

It's been a while since you told me about your training and I would like to hear more about what Professor Lupin is teaching you. While I can't practice it myself I would like to read on the subject as much as I can.

In other matters I really enjoyed my vacation in France, which received quite a turn of events yesterday.

We were on the beach where I met two girls. Fleur, who is a couple of years older than us and going to the French version of magical school. And Gabrielle, she is a few years younger than we are.

After we met on the beach we began talking and their parents invited us to their... well I guess honestly I will have to call it mansion.

I think you will like them Fleur is very smart, she likes to read and has some trouble finding friends of her own... like me.

A year ago I wouldn't have imagined walking up to them on that beach and talking with them, it's all thanks to you that I had the courage to do so. Honestly Harry, I am not sure if you are a positive influence on me or negative at this point.

Gabrielle on the other hand has a mischievous streak that will put yours to shame. Just yesterday before bed she convinced her mom to charm Fleur's favorite book to float away from her every time she tried to reach it.

I actually never had so much fun during a summer break before, I'm really glad I met them even though I would like to be there with you and help you train...

"Oh. We really glad we met you too, 'Ermione." Fleur's accented voice startled Hermione so much the pen flew out of her hand.

Fleur chuckled while Hermione turned to glare at the older girl, "You know it's terribly rude to read other people's letters, not to mention startle them."

The blonde shook her head and switched to French, "Is it Harry Potter you are writing a letter to?"

Hermione, after taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, nodded and replied in French as well, "Yes, He gets lonely over summers. He told me this year, last summer we tried to send him letters, but a house elf kept stealing them. So, me and Harry promised to write each other all summer this time." She then sighed, "Although from what he tells me he is pretty active this summer, I'm a little envious."

Fleur raised an eyebrow at her and said dramatically, "Oh, Gabrielle will be so heartbroken you would have preferred to be in England with a boy rather than play with us."

Hermione's eyes widened before she shook her head, "No, no. I love it here, it's just Harry gets to learn new magic and..."

Fleur began giggling, cutting off Hermione's ramble. Hermione, after realizing Fleur was just teasing her, rolled her eyes, "You are mean."

After the French girl just kept giggling Hermione smirked a little and decided to return Fleur's earlier tease, "We both know that if Gabrielle could choose she would rather be with Harry than even you."

Fleur stopped giggling and chuckled instead, "I suppose you're right." She then tilted her head, "You know if you want to practice magic we have a room for it in the basement, I can teach you some more advanced magic. I mean, I am not a professor, but I am going to be the top student of sixth year."

Hermione's eyes shined brightly as she jumped to her feet and hugged Fleur, she didn't even notice she went back to speaking her native language, "Yes! Yes! Thank you, so much!"

Fleur hugged her back and switched to English as well, "It will be my pleasure, 'Ermione. We are friends after all."

Hermione pulled back from the hug and smiled at the blonde, "Thank you, it's nice to have real friends to depend on."

Fleur tilted her head slightly, "You didn't have friends before?"

Hermione shook her head slowly, "Not before Hogwarts. Harry and Ron were my first friends. Well... I guess Harry was, I mostly tolerated Ron. He can be an okay bloke, but he has those moments he will ridicule my habits or complain about something I did that just come too often."

Fleur nodded her head, "I know ze sort. Annoying more zan anyzing. And before Hogwarts?"

Hermione shrugged, "It's not like they were mean to me or anything like that, the couple of girls who tried to bully me back in elementary were stopped by the teachers. But I had trouble making friends so I spent most of my time alone and in the library."

Fleur nodded thoughtfully, "It's okay. I know how you feel. When I was younger I didn't have friends either. The boys were all affected by my allure, and the girls were jealous. I managed to make two friends in Beauxbatons who weren't afraid I would steal their boyfriends."

Hermione frowned, "Why would you do it, and why would they be the only ones not worried?"

Fleur shrugged this time, "Boys can be very open to ze allure making even my passive output draw zeir attention and turn zem to fools. Girls zought I do it purposefully, and blamed me when zeir boyfriends cheated or somezing like that. And my friends... shall we say do not care for zhe boys."

Hermione looked confused for a moment before realization struck her and she gaped a little, "Oh. I get it. Well I guess now we have more friends, and we are better for it."

Wanting to alleviate the somber atmosphere in the room Fleur smirked a little and said, "You know my tutoring is not free."

Hermione raised an amused eyebrow, "Oh? And what will her highness want?"

Fleur giggled before adopting a noble voice using French now, "I will cost you one autograph of 'Arry for Gabi."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably where she stood, "Ummm, that might be difficult. Harry doesn't like his fame and he hates giving autographs."

Fleur leaned a little forward and said playfully, "Surely if his crush asks for an autograph for a little girl that just became her friend he wouldn't be able to refuse."

Hermione was mesmerized by the Veela for a long moment before shaking her head and mumbling, "I'm not his crush." Then she sighed and said in her normal voice, "Fine, I will try, but I can't promise anything."

"Good enough for me," chirped the older teen. She turned toward the door and called behind her shoulder, "Are you coming? We are starting your training now."

Hermione squealed happily, sat down to finish the letter she was writing.

Fleur just offered to give me a few lessons too! So you better study well Harry, or I might catch up to you.

In any case I can't wait to see you face to face. I will write you when I know when we are heading back to England.

Love, Hermione.

P.S. Fleur's little sister, Gabi, is a big fan of yours it would mean a lot for all three of us if you could send back something for her. You don't have to if you are too uncomfortable with it.

Hermione barely even noticed how she signed the letter.

She knew she had to wait until the evening for Hedwig to stop by and pick up her letter for Harry. Meanwhile there was a friend waiting for her to teach her new spells.

It was the best summer vacation Hermione could remember having.

Harry rolled away from another 'Expelliarmus' and raised his wand to return fire.

Remus simply batted the spell away with his wand. Harry's silent casting still produced only weak spells.

The older man then proceeded to send three consecutive stinging hexes in different directions, preventing Harry from dodging physically.

Cutting the air with his wand Harry called out 'Protego', the three hexes dissipated once they hit his magical shield.

Harry didn't waste any time, he returned his fire with a chain of different spells he started with a silent stinging hex, followed by a silent binding curse, and he finished with a loudly spoken 'Expelliarmus'.

Expecting low level spells Remus batted the first two away, his problem was that he was so focused on the silent spells he didn't notice the last one was spoken out loud, and when the older man tried to bat the last spell away he found his wand ripped away from his grip.

Remus blinked in surprise for a moment before a smile spread on his face, "Well done, Harry. That was a rather clever plan you had there. But you still have to work on your silent casting."

Harry smiled proudly and sighed, "I know. But between learning the shield charm, silent casting and everything else I didn't have much time to practice alone."

Remus nodded in understanding, "True. But you don't have to worry too much, you still have half the summer in front of you. You have already advanced further than anyone could expect. The shield charm is a fourth year spell, and silent casting is only practiced during sixth year. You have been practicing your occlumency as well, right?"

Harry nodded, "I think I managed to finish creating the first layer of defense a few nights ago. Now I started working on the second."

Remus nodded approvingly, he was about to say something when their fireplace came alive. Remus and Harry exchanged a glance before sitting in front of it.

A moment later the familiar face of the headmaster was shown through the flames, "Ah, Remus, Harry. Good afternoon, I was hoping to catch you."

"Albus," Remus greeted back in an indifferent voice, "Would you like to come through for some tea?"

The headmaster shook his head, "I must decline I'm afraid, there is much to do here. Professor McGonagall has already begun her rounds visiting the new muggle born children, and as you can guess it means a mountain of paperwork for yours truly."

Harry noticed that while the headmaster tried to keep the conversation light there was an underlying tension in his face. With a sigh Harry intervened, "Please Professor, just tell me why this year is going to be difficult for me."

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, "I'm afraid the entire school is to have an unpleasant year. I have just finished a meeting with our minister."

"Of course it would be him, or more accurately Malfoy." Remus grumbled.

Dumbledore shook his head, "That was my first guess as well. Alas, Mr. Malfoy seemed to find himself in quite the financial bind this month." The thick moustache of the headmaster twitched and he asked, "You wouldn't know anything about it, would you?"

Harry shrugged, "I might have heard something when I was in the bank. Couldn't have happened to a better family."

The headmaster tried to hide his amusement, even though his eyes were dancing with mirth. His voice returned to be somber as he informed them, "Right now Cornelius is attempting to do his own damage control. As you can imagine having it publicly announced that a prisoner escaped Azkaban is bad for the ministry's reputation. The minister also issued a kiss on sight order for Sirius Black."

Harry nodded his head, seemed about right, though some part of him still hoped he would get a go at the traitor first. A look toward Remus showed the werewolf felt the same.

"Unfortunately," The headmaster's voice returned them to reality, "In his infinite wisdom the minister decided to station Dementors at Hogwarts, without aurors to control them at that, stating that the auror department is rather small at the moment and can't station even one of their numbers in the school."

Remus sat up and demanded, "How could you allow it, Albus?!"

The headmaster sighed tiredly, "I assure you Remus, I did my best to prevent it. But my protests were drowned once the minister claimed that Hogwarts would be the most obvious target for Sirius Black once Harry returns."

Harry interrupted whatever Remus was about to say, "Thank you for letting us know, Professor."

The headmaster gave a short nod, "I'm afraid I must attend to other matters, have a good day."

With that the flames disappeared.

Chapter Text

Harry was sitting in the kitchen with Remus.

The older man insisted on a cup of calming tea right after the headmaster left. Harry's first assumption was that his nerves were due to Black being mentioned again.

But when Harry paid closer attention he noticed the flinch and the dark look passing on his face when Dumbledore talked about whatever a dementor was.

As they sat and quietly sipped from their cups Harry was the first one to break and asked with a sigh, "Okay. What's a dementor? And why would the headmaster be so worried about it being in Hogwarts?"

Remus put down his cup with a heavy sigh, "Dementors are one if not the foulest creatures to ever roam the planet. They feed on the souls of humans, currently the death penalty of the British Ministry of Magic is getting your soul sucked by one of them."

Harry frowned, not liking the idea of these creatures or the way the government seemed to use them, before something else occurred to him, "What do those things have to do with Black?"

Remus tapped his finger on his cup, "Well, I suppose the first thing is the fact he has a kiss on sight order, which practically means he is to be killed the moment he is spotted."

Harry shrugged, "Seems reasonable, but what stops them from reaching for some student if they get hungry."

Remus took a slow sip from his tea before replying carefully, "As it stands it is common knowledge that the dementors are under the complete control of the ministry. So as long as they issue a public decree that they gave the dementors orders to stay away from the children the people will be at ease."

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Why do I feel like I'm still missing something important about them?"

"Very observant of you, Harry." Remus nodded approvingly, "There is. It's the effect a dementor has on someone by merely being in the same space as them. Dementors suck away the soul to devour happiness. Their passive presence drops the temperature and drains the joy of everyone nearby, forcing them to relive their own worst memories in their mind."

Harry got really pale as he realized the simple logic of things, "A high number of them in a single place, even a place like Hogwarts will have constant effects on the students, and even if one of those dementors passes by a student he can be left crippled for a while."

Remus nodded gravely, "Yes. But again the dementors are the trusted guardians of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. Keeping prisoners in check or even breaking their minds. That's how much the ministry trusts them, for them to put them in Hogwarts..."

Harry looked horrified by the idea now, "It's too far! Even if the ministry has control over them, all it will take is a single rogue one for something awful to happen."

"You are right." Remus agreed with a very heavy heart, "They are creatures, foul ones at that, who get hungry. And the joy of children is so much sweeter than those of condemned criminals. I fear it won't be long before at least one of them will not be able to resist temptation."

Harry looked desperately down at the table, "If even Dumbledore couldn't stop the ministry from putting them in Hogwarts, what can I do? Can you even stop something like this?"

Remus put his cup on the table as he spoke carefully, "There is in fact a spell to repel a dementor, not destroy or defeat mind you, but depending on the caster, it's a very effective charm to know."

"You have to teach me!" Harry perked up and shouted.

Remus began rubbing his lower lip with his finger thinking out loud, "Usually it's a NEWT level spell that even most auror candidates can't cast." His lips then twitched upwards, "But, I have no doubt you will rise to the challenge, Harry"

It was barely an hour later that Harry stood in the training room he and Remus usually exchanged spells with each other in, but this time it wasn't for a duel against the older werewolf.

Remus pulled out his wand from inside his robes while talking in what Harry came to call his 'Professor voice', "The spell I am going to teach you is called the Patronus charm. Mr. Potter a test to your deduction skills, considering the nature of dementors what emotion will the spell need to be based on to repel one of them?"

Harry paused and thought back on what Remus told him about those demons earlier... they feed on happiness and joy, but like humans too much of a good thing can be dangerous to oneself. So, the logical conclusion would be "Happiness."

Remus smiled proudly and announced mockingly, "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Harry shook his head with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Remus began waving his wand as he called out, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver cloud began coming out of the tip of his wand, Harry barely managed to admire how captivating the silver cloud was and the warm feeling that began filling him when the cloud began taking a shape.

In a matter of seconds the shapeless silver cloud of warmth turned into a silver wolf running around the room spreading so much warmth that Harry felt like laughing without any specific reason.

As quickly as the silver animal appeared it faded away, taking most of the warmth with it, though some of it did linger on in Harry's chest.

Remus gave Harry a moment before explaining, "As you just saw that was the Patronus charm. In order to cast this spell, you need to think of the happiest memory you have as you summon the charm. The spell as you saw has a few stages, the stronger the memory and your emotion the higher the stage of the spell moves up as well."

Harry frowned for a moment. There was a cloud, then the cloud grew into a wall before it took the shape of an animal. Which made the stages obvious enough, but the way to cast the charm was what caused Harry trouble.

His happiest memory? Now that was troublesome, Harry could at the very least confidently say the memory would have to be from the last two years, and even then the only memory from last year worth something would be when Hagrid told him he was a wizard.

Until suddenly something flashed in his mind. Bushy brown hair, sparkling almond eyes. The warmth of a hug around him and the smell of parchment and apples.

With the final touch of the memory of lips gently touching his cheek Harry could feel a familiar warmth spreading inside his chest, using that warmth Harry moved his wand and called out, "Expecto Patronum!"

Harry could feel the pull on his magic and opened his eyes, hoping to see a silver animal Harry opened his eyes, only to feel the warmth escaping him as he saw a simple cloud of silver coming off his wand.

With the warmth of the memory replaced by the disappointment of the result the silver cloud faded away as well, causing Harry to scowl.

Remus came around and patted him on the shoulder, "I don't see what you are so upset about Cub, you did better than most auror trainees."

Harry was about to protest when both he and Remus felt a little tingle go down their spines. Harry already knew what it meant so there was no reason for Remus to chuckle and say, "Well looks like Hedwig is finally back with that letter from Ms. Granger, looks like you are going to be reunited soon."

Harry just groaned and chose to ignore the still chuckling man as he turned to leave the room, he had an impatient owl waiting for him upstairs.

"Harry!" a familiar voice called out, and Harry barely had time to react before a bushy headed missile hit him and almost toppled him over.

If not for the training he did for the entire summer so far Harry would have ended up on the floor with the cause of it on top of him, but thanks to his new quick reaction time and strength he managed to right himself and keep both himself up while wrapping his arms tightly around the warm body attached to him.

Harry let out a strained chuckle, "It's good to see you too, Hermione."

Hermione chuckled as well and pulled her face out of his chest to speak clearly, "I was waiting the whole summer to see you."

Harry got her letter asking to visit with him for the rest of the summer a couple of days ago, around a week after she came back from France, a vacation that went on longer than the Grangers anticipated due to their new surprising connection there.

Harry looked down at her with a little smirk, "Oh? Already tired of your new French friends?"

Hermione shook her head in amusement, "You prat. You know it's not what I meant." Hermione then seemed to realize something while looking up at him and asked with a frown, "Did you get taller?" she pushed herself off of him, her hands sort of feeling up his muscles as she did, causing her to frown even further and ask again, "And broader?"

Harry rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Well I guess the training did help and after the visit with the goblins' healers I started to get my growth spurt, or at least Remus says so."

"And I usually am right, after all even Ms. Granger caught on to the difference quickly." Remus said amusingly joining the two teens.

Harry gave Hermione the safest and closest location to the manor he could to meet her, which ended up being just a little further from the road leading toward said manor.

Hermione yelped a little before she started babbling, "Professor! It's an honor meeting you again."

Remus smiled kindly at her, "Oh, the pleasure is all mine Ms. Granger, and please the year hasn't started yet so you can just call me Remus until then."

Hermione looked conflicted for a moment, until another voice cut into the conversation, "Oh, I think you will find this request to be very hard on our dear Hermione. Sometimes I think we raised her too well." The voice teased at the end just as what appeared to be an older version of Hermione stepped into the scene.

The woman was followed by a man carrying three large suitcases and a small bag. Harry noticed that while Hermione seemed to look a lot like her mother she had her father's eyes and grin.

Hermione flushed and whined, "Moooom!" she quickly shook her head and smiled toward Remus, "I will do my best Pr... Remus."

Remus nodded approvingly, "Just as I always say to Harry, it's all one can ask from another."

Hermione's dad grunted before commenting, "Good advice Mr. Lupin."

Remus smiled at the man before taking out his wand and waving it. A moment later all the bags Mr. Granger carried began floating in the air as the werewolf commented easily, "Allow me to help. Call me Remus by the way."

Mr. Granger let out a relieved sigh and replied gratefully, "I am glad to meet you, Remus. The name is Dan, and you met my wife Emma."

Mrs. Granger rolled her eyes, "Dan, don't be rude and thank the nice wizard."

Remus chuckled comfortably, "There really is no need, Emma. It's our fault we met so far from the entrance so it should be reasonable for us to help with your luggage."

With that the group began the twenty minutes' walk toward the entrance of the manor. Once Remus stopped in place the Grangers looked confused and stared around.

Mr. Granger scratched his head and asked hesitantly, "Is the house invisible? Is this a thing for wizards? Something like glass homes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't be silly, dad. I never heard of invisible houses." She looked at Harry, hoping he wouldn't contradict her.

Harry chuckled nervously, "Well it's not exactly invisible, more like its location cannot be accessed by those who don't know the secret of its exact location. It's a ward, one of the most difficult ones to cast." He then motioned for the three Grangers to lean closer to him and once they did, he whispered the secret so he could be sure they would be the only ones to hear.

The Grangers gasped when suddenly the air shimmered and when just a moment ago was an empty horizon was now a tall gate and even taller house stretching across the valley.

Remus and Harry chuckled at the shocked faces of the family before they began walking inside and Harry called over his shoulder, "Well, come in. Welcome to Potter Manor."

Chapter Text

Harry had to quickly raise a shield to block the spell chain coming from Hermione. He was surprised when her fourth spell, cast with more effort than Harry thought she had left after dueling for five minutes straight, shattered his shield.

He saw another spell quickly follow, and thanks to the fact Hermione learned silent casting herself in France Harry wasn't sure what the spell was, so on instinct he threw his body out of the way.

He did it so sharply that his glasses flew off his face in the opposite direction of his roll. A couple of months ago that would have been a fatal disadvantage to him, but now Harry barely noticed it as he launched a counterattack.

He did notice Hermione's eyes widen for a moment before they narrowed back in concentration as she brought up her own shield blocking his two spells before returning fire with a familiar red spell.

Hermione was wearing casual clothes that Harry at first found quite surprising. She was wearing a comfortable pair of jeans, and a rather form fitting T-shirt. Her hair was gathered back in a messy ponytail, and the look on her face was pure determination.

It seemed that whatever happened to her in France and the new friends she met influenced Hermione quite a bit in the weeks she spent there.

After they met earlier today Remus insisted they would sit down and have a cup of tea all together. There weren't any serious or deep conversations just some small talk about the summer break so far, and studies.

Once they finished drinking their tea and the subject of training came up Hermione insisted that she and him should have a little spar so both of them could see how much the other improved during the summer.

Though Harry was sure there was another reason behind her insistence for this duel.

Harry knew that Hermione was kind of cross with him, she knew there was a lot that happened that Harry didn't tell her for one reason or another and she tried to push him to tell her, or in this case, show her.

A chain of another spells was sent toward him by his best friend, this time Harry tried a different tactic and moved out of the way of the spells right away before launching his own chain back.

Luckily avoiding Hermione's spells was not as difficult as he expected and he immediately raised his wand. Disarming charm, Petrification charm, tickling hex and finally two stinging hexes.

Hermione's eyes widened and she was about to cast a hurried shield when one was erected right before her.

Hermione turned around to see Remus standing behind her with his wand lowered and a gentle smile on his face, "Very good the both of you. That will be enough for now."

Hermione huffed before grumbling in a way Harry found really cute, "I guess Harry won this time." She then smiled at him a little, "At least it's obvious you worked hard all this time."

Harry chuckled, "Well Fleur clearly was a good teacher too. It's impressive how much she managed to teach you while still being a student herself."

"I agree, the young woman shows great potential, without a doubt." Remus nodded in agreement before looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, "Speaking of potential. Did you notice the fatal mistakes you made?"

Hermione sighed a little dejectedly, "I froze once things didn't go according to my expectations. I expected Harry to use a shield charm to block them before firing back, but he got there faster by stepping aside."

Remus smiled encouragingly at the bright witch, "Correct. And there is another thing you should have done differently."

Hermione frowned in thought but it looked like she wasn't about to get it so Harry explained for her, "You should spread your spells at least a little. The only reason I managed to dodge them and return fire so quickly was because all your spells were aimed for the same spot."

Hermione's eyes widened for a moment before she sighed and just replied with, "I will keep that in mind." Her eyes narrowed at Harry then, "And you mister, owe an explanation about how you managed to hit me dead center without your glasses on."

Harry felt his body tensing up, that was something he wasn't sure he could talk about, but he didn't want to lie to Hermione either, that's why he tried to avoid this conversation the entire time.

Now, though, it seemed unavoidable and Harry wasn't sure what he should say.

Mrs. G... Harry meant Emma, as the woman demanded he call her earlier, tried to save him, "Honey, it's clear you stepped over something sensitive, how about you let this go for now."

Both the Granger parents stood in the corner of the room, wanting to see their daughter's skills with a wand, or more like how they compared to his because as Harry understood they had plenty of opportunities to see Hermione performing magic in France, which Harry was sure was a big and welcomed change from last summer.

Hermione frowned in dissatisfaction and her mother returned it with her own stern look that commanded respect and fear, or at least in Harry's case it did.

Remus then intervened gently, "Harry, I went through it with Goldpaw when I was there last time and it will be fine as long as Hermione will give a magical oath not to share what she learns from you."

Hermione tilted her head and seemed to recite something she read before, "Magical oath is a form of magical bond that if the person who took it breaks the condition specified in the oath he loses his magic."

Harry felt his chest tightening with the possibility. He trusted Hermione not to blurt around their secrets, but the chance someone might trick her or find a way to force her to break the oath and she would lose her magic because of him didn't sit well in his mind.

"Hermione..." Harry began, hoping to convince her to drop it for now.

But the bushy haired girl would have nothing of that, she raised her wand and before he could even protest she declared, "I swear on my magic, that I will not share any information Harry Potter classifies as secret unless he gives me explicit permission. So mote it be."

A bright glow spread from the tip of her wand, down the wood to her arm until it engulfed her entire body for a quick moment. There was complete silence in the room afterward until Hermione smiled cheerfully and asked, "Will this oath be good enough?" She aimed it at Remus.

The older man looked slightly shocked himself but nodded his head. Hermione smiled smugly at Harry and demanded, "Time to talk, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth but was cut off again, this time by Hermione's dad who said sternly, "Hermione, we talked to you about this attitude. You can't go around demanding people to tell you things you want to know. You can ask and accept if they are not comfortable with telling."

Hermione blushed a little and looked down mumbling, "Sorry, dad." She then looked up at Harry with a sweet smile that made Harry's heart skip a beat, "Will you please tell me everything now, Harry?"

Harry gave her a little smile and said carefully, "I think it will be something best talked over with another cup of tea."

Remus clapped his hands and tried to say cheerfully, "Splendid idea, Harry, I will go up and make us some right now."

Harry frowned and was about to protest but it looked like he wasn't the only one who noticed what Remus was trying to do. "Now, now, Remus, it looks like you are trying to avoid helping Harry explain the situation."

Remus chuckled nervously, not meeting Emma's eyes, his voice overly innocent, "Me? I would never dare, I merely trying to be a proper host."

Emma clapped her hands with a too cheerful of a smile, "It's nice of you, but I insist on helping with the tea. I kept watch while you made it earlier, I am sure I will find my way around the kitchen so you can handle the magical stuff instead."

Remus gave her a strained smile and responded with a simple, "Yes ma'am."

Satisfied with her victory Emma smiled brightly and left the training room. Dan was a step behind her, but before he left the room he stopped next to Remus and patted his shoulder, "Chin up pal, better than you being trampled by her while she got her way."

After Dan left the room Harry turned to Hermione and said carefully, "Well I see where you learned being fierce from."

Hermione's amused stare toward the door became cheeky as she turned to Harry, but she didn't comment at all.

Remus let out a deep sigh and said, "We should head to the kitchen and get to talking, before your mother tries to get her way again."

Hermione just giggled, and Harry gulped, sudden dread about the future starting to sink in.

Two hours later the sun began setting outside the windows in the kitchen, three full cups of tea that were now cold.

Each of the Grangers took a sip of their tea before Harry started talking, with the occasional input from Remus, and the three of them quickly lost any and all appetite.

At first Harry was worried about telling the adult Grangers everything, as they had no means to protect their minds. Remus though pointed out that no death eater would ever consider muggles knowing such secrets.

According to him worst case scenario Emma and Dan would be killed straight away by the dark wizards, and when Hermione yelped at the comment Remus quickly added that he had a few ideas to protect her parents in case they would try. Which calmed his best friend quickly.

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to recap everything, "So you are rich and heir to a few magical houses." Harry nodded.

"You made a deal with the Goblins that cut off the Malfoys from their money." This time Harry felt smug as he nodded.

Then she took a deep breath before saying, "Voldemort split his soul with dark magic and put them in objects so even if someone destroys his body, he will stay alive, which is how he survived so far. And there were seven of them before you destroyed the diary." Again, another nod.

Hermione's eyes flickered to his scar before adding, "One of those pieces was attached to your scar, but the Goblins found it and removed it. The soul piece was the reason you needed the glasses and your growth was stunted. Without it you also have more magical power."

This time it was Remus who responded, "Which is something not even the minister will ever know, so keep that in mind."

Hermione nodded before finishing off, "And now there is an escapee from wizarding prison that wants to kill Harry, and because of that the ministry decided to post soul sucking demons on the school's grounds?"

Harry nodded to this bit solemnly. Hermione's father cleared his throat before asking hesitantly, "Are we sure it's a good idea to send the kids to school then?"

Emma oddly remained silent, and Hermione was the one to protest, "Dad! What about the classes?!"

Her father shrugged before pointing out, "In the last couple of months you learned far more than the last two years in school, didn't you?"

Hermione sputtered, unable to counter the argument. Remus sighed deeply, "Unfortunately, in Harry's case it's complicated. If he won't go to Hogwarts it will paint the ministry in a bad light, as if the hero of our society doesn't trust the government even though they put measures to protect him. We will be fighting the ministry as well as the death eaters in this case."

Hermione crossed her arms and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by her mother, "We know dear, if Harry goes, so do you. No point arguing over it." She turned to Remus, "You said you are teaching Harry a way to protect against these demons, if we stay here for the rest of the break, will you be able to teach Hermione as well?"

Remus hesitated for a moment before saying, "Theoretically yes. But a couple of days before the end of the break, I'm afraid it will be dangerous in the manor..."

Remus was cut off by the firm and kind voice of Emma, "Harry already informed Hermione in his letter about your condition and we asked our friends in France about your illness. I assume you are provided with the appropriate potion..." Remus could only nod dumbfoundedly, "Good. Then we have nothing to worry about, actually it might be helpful to have another set of eyes watching over the kids for those couple of days."

Remus and Harry exchanged a look. They already saw Emma when she was trying to get her way.

She always does, so there was no point in resisting and making it painful for them. They just nodded in consent, making the female Grangers smile brightly.

Chapter Text

Hermione shifted from side to side uncomfortably in front of the door Harry led her towards.

She glanced to her side to see Harry and Remus stepping next to her and she asked meekly, "Are you sure I should be here Harry? I mean it's your family and..."

Harry grabbed her hand in one of his and gave her a squeeze, his lips lifted into a small grin as he reassured her, "I want you to meet them Hermione. I got to meet your parents and that... that's kind of the best I can offer in return. And I want them to meet you too."

Then Harry turned to Remus with narrow eyes and said firmly, "And there is someone here who should stop avoiding talking with a certain portrait. So I can use some help making sure to hold him in place if we have to."

Hermione felt the tension leaving her body slightly as she chuckled and said with amusement, "Not sure I will be much help against a werewolf, Harry."

Harry shrugged and shot back immediately, "Moral support."

Remus grumbled loud enough for the two of them to hear, "I still think it's a bad idea. I mean. I am sure they don't want to see me after everything, and today is a full moon, I don't feel so well. Maybe we should hold back and do it during the Christmas break."

Harry let out a tired sigh, "I hear this kind of bullshit from you for the past two months. Can you please just man up and go inside with us."

Remus gave Harry the side eye and said grimly, "You've grown far too comfortable taunting me, Harry."

Harry shrugged with a grin, "I am a son of a marauder. Have to keep the legacy alive, can't leave it all for an old wolf."

Remus frowned a little and mumbled, "I am not that old."

Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from snorting out loud. Unlike Harry she wouldn't be able to show her face in class if she insulted in some way a professor.

"Well, we should go on with it." Harry said, as he pushed the door and led the three of them inside, while making sure to keep his eyes on Remus to make sure the man didn't run away.

Apparently Harry had been trying to get Remus to talk with the portrait of his grandparents for the last two months they spent in this mansion, even though they kept demanding repeatedly that the older man come and talk with them.

Mr. Lupin, however, always found an excuse to avoid going with Harry there, even now to Hermione he looked terrified to meet people he once considered as family.

Though she guessed she could see where he was coming from, she was sure they would have some hard questions for him as well, usually Hermione would suggest Harry would just let the headmaster explain his part of the story but even if Harry's trust in the headmaster was being restored slowly he still was against the idea of allowing the powerful wizard anywhere near the portrait.

Hermione chose not to argue the point, even if she was not entirely on board with it.

Harry led them further into the room where a portrait of two people was hanging at the center of the wall. A man and woman, both had their eyes closed.

Harry cleared his throat and called out, "Grandpa? Grandma?"

There was a sound of groaning coming out of the portrait before the couple in the painting opened their eyes.

If Hermione wasn't used to this kind of thing from Hogwarts she would have been freaking out right about now.

The thought made Hermione glad Remus took her parents to their practice earlier today, she didn't think they were ready for this kind of magic yet.

"Harry, m'boy, it's good to see you as usual." The man spoke in a cheerful and kind voice, his grin widened even more when his eyes landed on her, "And who do we have here?"

Harry smiled and introduced her, "This is my best friend, Hermione Granger. Hermione this is my grandparents Charles and Dorea Potter."

Hermione gave a small bow and nervously said, "It's very nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

"It's Lord and Lady Potter, dear." The soft voice of the sitting woman in the portrait spoke. Hermione could feel cold sweat running down her neck at the correction as the woman added, "Muggleborns like you should really put the effort to read a little of the traditions of the new world you are entering."

Hermione flinched a little and stammered, "S-Sorry M-Ma'am." Hermione knew from what Harry told her that this woman was once from the Black family. A family that according to records was known as pureblooded and proud of it with more drastic and fanatic members in recent history.

The woman chuckled gently before saying just as softly, "Oh, dear. You might get the wrong impression of me. I am aware of what my family name might suggest about me, but I assure you I have no issues with first generation witches and wizards. I adored Lily wholeheartedly. My suggestion has been a genuine one for your own good. Harry told us about your love of literature. I believe you will find the library to supply you with all the information you need."

Hermione could feel her racing heart calming down, and warmth spreading from there as she smiled widely and thanked the woman.

Charles chuckled deeply before saying, "Harry told us so much about you. Please feel free to call us Charles and Dorea..." Hermione was about to reply when a familiar mischievous glint in the man's dark eyes cut her off as the older man added, "And maybe in a few years we can try Grandpa and Grandma."

Hermione let out a choked sound, and she could feel her face burning at the implication of his words. During her stay in France, Fleur made Hermione realize the full scope of her feelings toward Harry even though she made Hermione question a lot of things about her own preferences when it comes to love and more.

She wasn't opposed to dating Harry, not at all, especially now that he somehow became even more handsome than he was the last time she saw him.

In the past she was drawn to his determination, talent and kindness. But now that she was entering her pubescent age she also started noticing a muscular air to Harry he didn't have at the train station when they parted ways.

Turning to Harry she noticed his own cheeks were glowing red, but his eyes had a wistful gaze clouding them for a moment before he shook it off. But Hermione caught it and began wondering if Harry was really thinking about the same thing she had just done.

Dorea let out an exasperated sigh, "Charles. I swear... all the troubles James would get into are because of you."

The man gasped in mock offense but didn't voice any retort. It was then that Dorea's eyes sharpened and she called out, "It looks like Remus has finally decided to pay us a visit. It has been a while, dear."

The grin Remus wore witnessing Harry being teased was now gone, and his face paled quickly as he took a step forward from the shadows he tried to hide in and said as innocently as he could, "It's nice to see you again, Dorea, Charles."

Dorea's voice was sharp as she retorted, "Oh? Is it? Excuse me for doubting it when you have been avoiding us for the past couple of months."

Remus seemed to choke on air and had a hard time coming up with an answer when Charles's calm voice intruded, "Now. Now, love. Let the man say his piece. Go ahead, lad."

Remus looked away and took a deep breath, "I made a lot of mistakes. Because of me Harry had to grow up in an awful house, I couldn't protect James and Lily, Because of me Peter died... and Sirius..."

Dorea frowned, "What happened to James, Lily and Harry is not your fault. There are a lot of people that made their own decisions and their own mistakes which led to the outcome we are facing now. But what is it about Peter and Sirius?"

Charles nodded stroking his chin thoughtfully, "Yes. Harry always looked very confused when we mentioned their names, and recently he even showed anger at the mention of Sirius's name, so we refrained from the subject. But I fear we have reached the point I am certain we are missing some important information."

Remus winced painfully before he spoke in a voice full of pain and remorse, "James and Lily trusted Sirius to be their secret keeper, so after Voldemort breached their cottage it became obvious Sirius was the spy in the order we heard about. When Peter went after Sirius, the traitor killed him along with a few muggles in the area. He was arrested while laughing loudly... I'm sorry Dorea, I know he was your nephew but..."

"No!" Dorea said in a harsh tone, "Sirius would never betray his family. And he considers you, James and us as his only family."

Remus looked like someone just stabbed him, and he tried to say gently, "Dorea..."

"You are misunderstanding, Remus." Charles cut in, his voice calm yet serious, "James and Lily spoke to us before they went into hiding and told us about their plan to lie to everyone about Sirius being the secret keeper while giving Peter the job so no one would hunt him. They wanted someone to know in case the worst would happen."

Hermione could feel her heart racing again, but for a completely different reason. She looked at Harry and noticed his wide eyes that began to shine with tears. Remus, next to him, looked even worse. His entire body was shaking, lips quivering and eyes flooding.

"So... Sirius... Innocent..." Was what Remus managed to gasp between choked sobs.

Dorea huffed, but her voice was much gentler, "Of course he is. He is a truly proud Black! We do not turn our back on family, we fight for what we believe in to the end."

"Which brings another question. How exactly did Peter die?" Charles asked, his voice deeper than Hermione had heard so far.

It took Remus a couple of tries before he could complete the story as he knew it.

By the end of it Charles shook his head, "It doesn't make sense. If Sirius used a blasting hex, point blank, strong enough not only to blow Peter's entire body up, but also the entire street around it, there should be no way for a single finger of his, who was the target of such a large spell, to survive."

Harry seemed to catch on to the meaning quickly and he gasped, "He cut his own finger off so people would think he died. But how could he escape the aurors who got there just a moment later."

"Rat." Remus growled. Hermione looked at him surprised, his body was still shaking, but now it looked like it had more to do with rage than anything else.

Dorea let out a humorless laugh, "Of course the coward would. I did always wonder how he ended up in Gryffindor. Latching onto James in the start and always doing just enough to be counted as useful without being overly so, I would be proud of him if he wasn't such a coward."

Charles nodded his head in agreement, "As much as I hate to admit it, I never did like the lad. In all probability after his wanker of a master died, he was in a panic and devised this plan so no one would look for him from either side to blame him for one thing or another."

Harry shook his head, "I still don't get it. How could he just get away in the middle of a street full of people and aurors?"

"Animagus." Was Charles's reply.

Harry tilted his head in confusion but a distant bell rang in Hermione's mind and she found herself speaking, "It's a very advanced transfiguration form where a witch or wizard can turn themselves into an animal. Like Professor McGonagall and her cat form."

Remus had a small smile on his lips, "Indeed. Well done, Hermione. You see, James, Sirius and Peter went through the process during our fifth year so they could keep me company during the full moons. Peter's form was a rat."

Hermione frowned, "But as far as I remember all animagi must be registered with the ministry, surely the aurors would suspect something like that if they knew about his status."

Dorea chuckled slightly, "You are very bright dear." Hermione flushed at the compliment.

Charles smiled too before adding in an amused tone, "Alas, James and Sirius found it funny to prank the ministry and avoided registering themselves. Making sure to transform only when no one else was around."

Hermione felt a little indignation at the obvious breach of the law, but kept her mouth shut, mentioning it now would do no good.