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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from where he was pulling weeds from around the white nettle at his father’s call. He pushed his slightly sweaty hair out of his eyes, looking to his right at the cottage’s back door as it opened and Severus stepped outside. He watched as Severus left the patio and approached where he was knelt on the ground in front of the garden.

“What are you doing out here?” Severus asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow in a way so reminiscent of his adoptive father, cocking his head to the side. “Uh, chores?”

“Did you forget we are going to Diagon Alley today?” Severus asked.

“That’s today?” Harry said, surprised, yanking on a stubborn weed that finally released from the ground.

Severus arched his own eyebrow in amusement, smirking. “Given letters arrived earlier this week, and we arranged it with Molly and Lucius, yes, that is today.”

Harry huffed, dropped the weed in his basket, and pushed himself to his feet. “You know, the condescension isn’t necessary.” He pushed back his hair again and swiped at the bit of sweat he could feel just under his eye.

Severus chuckled and Harry scowled. He looked at his father curiously when the man’s hand came up to him, thumb swiping across his cheek.

“You seem to have forgotten you just had your hands in the dirt,” Severus said, clearly heavily amused.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I was doing my chores without being told. Surely I get some points for that.”

“For doing the chores you have had for the past four years?” Severus said, clasping Harry’s shoulder once Harry had picked up his basket of tools and weeds. “Five points to Gryffindor.”

“Dad,” Harry said, unimpressed, only to smile as Severus laughed and pulled him close with a hand wrapped around his head, lips brushing his messy hair.

“Get cleaned up,” Severus said, guiding them back inside. “We leave in thirty minutes.”

Harry handed the basket to his father, kicked off his shoes onto the mat just inside the door, and walked through the sitting room to the staircase that sat just before the front foyer. He dashed up and around the U-shaped, dark cherry wood staircase, and into the bathroom that sat just across from the top of the stairs. He showered quickly, excited for their excursion to Diagon Alley to see his friends. He hadn’t seen any of them since the end of the school year, Severus and all the other adults being far more worried about the dangers upon the return of Voldemort in June. He hadn’t even been allowed to go to Grimmauld Place to visit Sirius and Remus despite it being the well-protected headquarters for the Order or have anyone over for his birthday. He’d had to make do with letters, owled presents, and a quiet day with his father. Harry was glad for at least this single day to be out of the house and see his friends.

Finished showering, he headed left down the hall and into the first bedroom on the left, just diagonally from the stairs. He got ready, pulling on jeans and a red raglan shirt with a V embroidered at the neckline. He looped his black dragon leather belt and wand holster from Kingsley into his jeans, knowing the hell he would get from his unofficial godfather—and official godfather and father—if he were to go anywhere without it, slipping his wand into place. He cast a quick look into the mirror on the wall at his hair, running his fingers through it uselessly, before leaving his room and heading back downstairs. He found Severus sitting at the island in the kitchen, finishing off a cup of coffee as he perused the Daily Prophet. He came up behind his father, looking over his shoulder at the paper.

“Anything interesting?” Harry asked.

“Still reporting on June and last week’s attack in Manchester,” Severus said. “More disappearances as well. Amelia Bones hasn’t been seen for over a week.”

Harry couldn’t help but frown at the reminder, a pain in his heart at what had happened during the horrible third task. Cedric flashed before his eyes briefly, chased away when a hand landed gently on the back of his neck. He looked at his father.

“How are you today?” Severus asked softly. “How was your night?”

Harry shrugged. “Alright. I don’t remember any nightmares, so I think it was okay.”

“No Silencing Charms?” Severus asked and Harry gave him a withering stare.

“I haven’t used one in over three years,” Harry said defensively.

“I was not accusing you,” Severus said placatingly. “I am simply concerned.”

Harry sighed. “I know. No, I didn’t use one and I honestly didn’t have any nightmares. I’m okay.”

Severus nodded, brushing his hand through Harry’s messy hair. “Ready to go?”

“Definitely,” Harry said, his melancholy erased.

With a smile, Severus guided him over to the fireplace in the sitting room corner. Harry hated the Floo, but it was currently preferable to a Portkey though remained tied with Apparation as his second most hated form of wizarding travel. Honestly, why couldn’t wizards have come up with better ways to travel? Even the Muggles had figured out better methods. He stepped through, holding his breath as he twirled through the ash and flames, stumbling, as usual, upon his arrival. He caught himself on a nearby table to avoid hitting the floor.

“Harry!”

He didn’t have much time to recover before he found arms wrapped around his neck and brown hair in his vision. He immediately hugged Hermione back, managing to get them out of the way of Severus’ arrival behind them.

“Surely we could be away from the fireplace for this,” Severus said, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Of course. Sorry, Professor,” Hermione said, releasing Harry.

“Finally! We were starting to wonder if you were still coming,” Ron said, stepping up to them with Draco and Mrs. Weasley who rushed over to pull Harry into another hug.

“How are you, Harry, dear?” she asked, cupping his face to gaze closely at him.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, smiling as she patted his cheek affectionately.

“Hello, Severus,” Mrs. Weasley said, turning to the man. “How has your summer been?”

“Molly,” Severus greeted. “Mostly uneventful. I do hope you have not suffered too much over the children being kept home this summer.”

“Hey!” Harry and Ron exclaimed together, gaining an eye roll from Mrs. Weasley and a smirk from Severus.

“Oh, I’ve kept Ron busy enough, I’m sure he’s hardly noticed,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“I’ve noticed not seeing one of my best friends for a month, Mum!” Ron argued.

“Yet you endure,” Severus said, still smirking.

“Dad!” Harry said indignantly, making his father chuckle.

“Draco, is your father joining us?” Mrs. Weasley asked and Draco shook his head.

“No, he’s at the Ministry today,” Draco said. “He told me to tell you, Severus, that you get a second son for the day.”

“Amazing,” Severus drawled with a false air of being unimpressed.

“Oi!” Draco said, affronted.

“No one else?” Harry asked.

“Seamus and Dean’s parents have chosen to just owl order this year,” Hermione said. “They’re nervous given everything happening.”

“Haven’t heard from Neville or Luna, but I think Neville had finally convinced his gran to let him get a new wand so they’re probably coming another time,” Ron said.

“I’m pretty sure Luna and her father were on a trip this summer,” Draco said.

“Very well,” Severus said. “Shall we get on with it?”

“You all have your letters?” Mrs. Weasley said and the four teens nodded, Harry grinning as Severus handed him his.

With the four teens talking to each other excitedly, catching up on the past several weeks, the group headed through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. It was quieter than it used to be, the return of Voldemort and mass Death Eater attacks making the world nervous to operate as it once did. A few shops were boarded up, shop owners not willing to risk being in such a target-rich environment. It was a shock to everyone that Death Eaters hadn’t attacked the Alley yet.

The partially abandoned Alley was a sad sight, a stark contrast to what it had been in past years, particularly that very first time Severus ever brought Harry there when he was just ten. He remembered the wonder that had filled him as Severus brought him through the little wizarding town, pointing out each shop and explaining every bit of wizarding life they encountered. Despite being brought to Diagon Alley several times before even beginning Hogwarts, each time was like the first, an amazing world for a young boy who’d thought he’d never see anything more than the inside of his cupboard. To see that light and wonder so dim caused a heavy heart.

“Hey, do we know who the new Defense professor is this year?” Ron asked, and they all looked back at Severus.

“Do we at least get a competent one this time?” Draco said.

“Despite the result and the slight psychosis, fake Moody wasn’t terrible,” Ron said, gaining stares from the others. “Or I’m wrong.”

“Sorry, but I can’t exactly get behind the whole Death Eater in disguise,” Harry said.

“Fair enough,” Ron said. “But, seriously, do we know anything?” he asked again, looking at Severus.

“I’ve only a name,” Severus said. “Ethan Grey.”

“Well, his book list seems normal,” Hermione said as they all walked into Flourish and Blotts.

“Sure, because he’s going to tell us to get The Darkest Magicks if he is a psychopath,” Draco said sarcastically, earning a scowl from her.

“Hey, the book list can tell us a lot,” Ron said. “Lockhart?”

They all shuddered at the memory of the man that was likely their worst Defense professor yet, at least in terms of competence.

“Go, get what you need, kids,” Mrs. Weasley said, and shooed them all into the shelves while she and Severus waited at the front, speaking quietly.

“So, what’s Lucius doing at the Ministry?” Harry asked Draco once they were submerged in the stacks, searching for their Charms text.

“He’s trying to get into the Department of Mysteries so he can get the prophecy before Voldemort tries to go after it,” Draco said quietly. “Not that I’m supposed to know that.”

“But you do?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow as he pulled The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 from the shelf, handing one to Draco.

“Of course,” Draco said haughtily, making Harry laugh lightly. “But, naturally, Fudge is a moron and so are a lot of the Unspeakables, so there’s really no telling how it’s going.”

“At least he’s trying,” Harry said and Draco hummed.

They continued down their lists, picking up Of Common Poisons and Antidotes for Potions, Runic Applications and Rune Systems of the Ancients for Ancient Runes, The Exotic Creature for Care of Magical Creatures, and both Defensive Magic in a Darkening World and Theory of the Dark Arts and Their Defense for Defense. Arms filled with books, they returned to Mrs. Weasley and Severus, individually setting their stacks on the counter to pay. Once done, they returned outside and gazed around while Severus and Mrs. Weasley examined the shopping lists.

“Look, there’s a new shop,” Draco said, pointing down the street at the building that had once been Sugarplum’s Sweets Shop. It had once been a bright pink with sweets of all kinds filling the front display. Now, however, it was a soft blue with what seemed to be craft supplies in the window.

“Looks like a hobby shop,” Ron said.

“Can we go check it out?” Harry asked, turning to his father who looked up from the shopping list.

“Are you asking me if you can go look at art supplies while I complete the shopping of your school supplies?” Severus said, arching a brow.

“You know me so well,” Harry said with a grin as his father rolled his eyes.

“Molly?” Severus said, turning to the woman.

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose we can manage, if you promise to stick together and meet us back at the Leaky Cauldron in one hour.”

“You are to go nowhere else, understand?” Severus said, holding out his hand for Draco’s list.

“Promise,” Harry said as the others nodded.

“Draco, is there anything you need that is not on your list?” Severus asked.

“Just some ink and a new quill knife,” Draco said.

“Very well, go on,” Severus said.

“Thanks, Dad!” Harry said and the four teens ran down the street towards the new shop, finding it named ‘The Crafty One’.

Upon entering, Harry immediately knew it would become one of his favourite shops. Entire areas of the wide-open shop were dedicated to specific crafts or hobbies. He could see there was a mixture of magical and Muggle items, an uncommon sight in Diagon Alley.

“Hello, hello,” a young woman with long black hair in a thick braid said, a welcoming smile on her face as she approached them. “Welcome to my shop.”

“It’s wonderful,” Hermione said.

“What made you open such a place now of all times?” Ron asked, looking at a magical model train set.

“Ah, well, I figured, we could all use an escape in such times,” she said with a shrug.

“Can’t argue with that,” Draco said.

“If you need anything, just ask,” the woman said and walked back to the counter she’d originally been sitting behind.

Harry was instantly drawn to the area with the fine arts supplies, complete with everything from pastels to paints to coloured pencils to charcoals. He examined each item reverently, finding his thoughts drifting to the source of his love of art.

After Severus had started to come to Privet Drive in that year leading up to his first year at Hogwarts, the man had tried everything to help him acknowledge and deal with what the Dursleys had done to him. He wasn’t much for talking, especially back then before he really knew Severus, but then Severus had brought a sketchpad and coloured pencils, and it was like a whole other world had opened. It turned out drawing was so relaxing and comforting for Harry that he was willing to speak while doing so. As such, Severus had consistently brought him any art supplies he could think of, encouraging the activity as much as possible, and Harry slowly opened up. Art had remained a favourite pastime of his, an easy comfort and method of relaxation.

He smiled at the memories, love for his father for helping him find a passionate interest bubbling inside.

He grabbed a set of Muggle shading pencils and a never-ending sketchpad—as though he didn’t already have three others, but he liked keeping them themed—and finally left the area to find his friends. Hermione was looking at journals, Draco at wood carving, and Ron was still at the model train sets. They each ended up picking out their respective hobby and paid for their new items.

Talking happily about their purchases, the four stepped back out into the quiet street. Harry looked around, spotting just a few people walking along before ducking into their chosen stores. The town had dimmed, both through the lack of activity but also from the dark clouds moving in overhead. He frowned up at them.

“Was it supposed to rain today?” he asked, his friends looking up at the sky as well.

“I don’t believe so,” Hermione said with her own frown.

When a shiver ran through Harry’s body and their breaths became visible, Harry looked at his friends in alarm, receiving wide and confused eyes from them. He spun to look at the window of the shop, finding frost quickly covering the glass. They all had just enough time to pull their wands before a cold, black figure swooped over them, leaving behind frostbitten skin anywhere its tattered cloak touched. Hermione screamed as she was knocked down and Harry grunted as he was too, hitting the cobblestone.

“Look out!” Harry shouted as he saw another three Dementors come flying towards Draco who had run over to help Hermione.

“Run!” Draco yelled, helping Hermione up and they both took off running down the street, followed closely by the three Dementors.

Harry clapped his hands over his ears as he heard Voldemort scream ‘Avada Kedavra’ as well as his own screams from that last day when his uncle nearly beat him to death before Severus came to save him. The flash of green light appeared in his head and his scar seared with pain. He could feel his head growing light, and his chest constricted with the cold and draining happiness.

“Harry!” Ron appeared beside him. “We have to go!”

Ron started to help him to his feet only for three Dementors to fly up to them and begin to suck at their joy. Harry groaned, getting lost in the despair as he was forced to remember the graveyard and Cedric in June. His world was starting to grow dark when the feelings stopped abruptly and he drew in a deep breath. Back to awareness, Harry scrambled backwards to escape the Dementors, watching the silvery-blue hawk that was chasing away the Dementors that had been on him and Ron. Seeing Draco’s Patronus was like a reminder and Harry immediately thought of the day Severus had officially adopted him. Letting the love and happiness fill him, he pointed his wand at the Dementors trying to make their way back to him and Ron.

“Expecto Patronum!” he yelled and watched his lion rush forward just as an additional four Dementors appeared from nowhere, holding them back.

Ron’s terrier went running to his right, stopping another two Dementors. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Hermione’s otter repelling the three Dementors that had chased her and Draco. Despite the fact that Harry had held back nearly forty Dementors on his own back in his third year protecting himself and Sirius, he became filled with worry as another five Dementors appeared, fighting to break through the four Patronuses keeping them at bay. They were now surrounded by nearly twenty Dementors and Harry could see the slight flickering in his friends’ Patronuses as they fought to keep them strong in the escalating despair. He felt a sense of relief when the very familiar tiger Patronus joined his, helping to push the Dementors far away until they finally turned and took off away from the Alley.

Once the Dementors were gone, Harry dropped his wand in exhaustion, though his lion stayed around long enough to be nuzzled by Severus’ tiger. He watched them until they dissipated and he was spun around to meet his father’s terrified gaze.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, a hand coming to rest on Harry’s forehead and then cheek.

Harry nodded wearily. “I’m okay. Chocolate sounds pretty good right about now though.”

Severus rolled his eyes and pulled Harry against him in a tight hug. “Draco?”

Harry moved his head away from Severus just enough to look at Draco who had come up beside them with Hermione and Mrs. Weasley who was mercilessly examining Ron and Hermione.

“I’m fine,” Draco said, accepting the one-armed hug he received from Severus.

“What the bloody hell were Dementors doing in Diagon Alley?” Ron said once he managed to stop his mother’s hovering hands.

Harry stepped out of his father’s embrace to look up at him, waiting for the answer.

“It would seem Voldemort has untethered them from Azkaban and they have joined him,” Severus said and all four teens’ eyes widened.

“They’re free to just roam around?” Hermione said.

Severus nodded. “It would seem so, though he will likely have a level of control over them.”

“How so?” Draco asked.

“They will be able to be sent where he wants and after specific targets,” Severus said and Harry felt a jolt of fear. Dementors had always been drawn to him in general, but now they could be sent to target him? He leaned against Severus again, comforted by the arm wound around his shoulders.

“I think it is time to head home,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Agreed,” Severus said. “Draco, you will come with us and wait for your father. I will get a hold of him at the Ministry.”

Draco nodded and they all headed down the street to the Leaky Cauldron, far quieter than when they had arrived. Harry allowed himself to be held close to Severus’ side, exhausted and weakened by the Dementors’ attack. They bid goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley as they disappeared into the pub’s fireplace before them, stepping in moments later themselves to arrive in their sitting room.

“Sit,” Severus said to Harry and Draco, gesturing to the sofa. “I will make some hot cocoa once I get a hold of Lucius.”

Harry and Draco nodded, shuffling over to the sofa and dropping heavily onto it next to each other. Harry watched as Severus used the special scrying mirror that sat on the mantle, trying to make contact with Lucius. All the adults in their circle had one, a gift from Dumbledore when it became apparent that the children of the various families were becoming friends so the parents always had a more efficient way of contacting each other in emergencies. Once Sirius and Remus had joined the fray, they got one for Grimmauld Place as well. Some, like Lucius, had been given multiples in different forms, one to have at Malfoy Manor and one that he wore at the base of his throat when out to the Ministry, a decorative piece to the public. Severus had a secondary one as well, his passing as a pocket watch that was constantly tucked into his waistcoat while teaching.

Harry sighed as he listened to the low voice of his father filling Lucius in on what had happened, sinking into the sofa and against Draco.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked quietly, finally beginning to realize the danger his friends had been in. He’d been scared for them all, but there was a special bond with Draco, the blonde having been his first ever friend.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Draco said just as quietly. “You? You didn’t pass out this time.”

“No, and it didn’t get to that point either,” Harry said. “Just heard the two days, like usual.”

“Here, drink,” Severus said and Harry blinked, realizing his father was standing in front of them with steaming mugs. He hadn’t even noticed his father had finished talking to Lucius or had gone to the kitchen. They both sat up and took the cocoa. Harry took a sip and sighed at the warmth that radiated through him. “Your father is on his way.”

“How badly is he freaking out?” Draco asked.

“A normal amount given what’s occurred,” Severus said.

“So, I don’t get to see the outside of my bedroom for the next month,” Draco said with a huff.

“Don’t worry, I probably won’t either,” Harry said, grinning around his mug at his father’s scowl.

The fireplace flared then and Lucius stepped out, his eyes immediately finding his son. Despite the grumbling he had just been engaged in, Draco stood upon seeing his father and allowed himself to be pulled in for a tight hug. It didn’t surprise Harry. The two Malfoys had had a rough year as Narcissa had gone missing the previous year, and had grown quite close in the wake of the tragedy. No one knew if she was dead or had simply run away or had found a way to rejoin her sister, Bellatrix, when the murderous woman had broken out of Azkaban.

“Is everyone alright?” Lucius asked, looking at Severus who had moved to take Draco’s spot next to Harry on the sofa, arm draped along the back behind Harry’s head.

“Yes, everyone is fine,” Severus said. “The children did well with their Patronuses, as expected.”

Harry tucked himself into his father’s side with a touch of embarrassment as Lucius looked at him and Draco with pride. He cupped his mug, absorbing the heat and relaxed into his father as Severus began to brush his fingers through Harry’s hair. He zoned out, feeling the rumble of Severus’ voice in the man’s chest as he and Lucius conversed for a little while longer. Harry could feel himself beginning to drift, just barely noticing when the mug was carefully removed from his grasp to avoid spillage.

“Wake up, child, Draco and Lucius are leaving.”

Harry blinked, chasing away his doze at his father’s comment and looked up at the Malfoys.

“Bye, Draco,” he said. “Bye, Lucius.”

“Goodbye, Harry, get some rest,” Lucius said. “We will see you on September first.”

“Told you,” Draco said, sounding petulant, but, given he was still tucked against Lucius, Harry knew better and he chuckled lightly. “See you. Thanks for bringing me along, Severus.”

There was no verbal response, but Harry assumed Severus had likely just nodded as he usually did. With a quiet goodbye between Severus and Lucius, the Malfoys took their leave, disappearing through the fireplace and leaving Harry and Severus in a silent, darkening sitting room.

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked quietly after a time, long fingers still carding through Harry’s hair.

“Okay. Tired,” Harry said, leaning into his father heavily. “It wasn’t like third year, though. Guess I’ve built a bit of a tolerance.”

Severus sighed and Harry felt the kiss pressed to the top of his head. “Head up to bed. Get some rest.”

Harry really didn’t want to move, but he did have to admit his bed sounded lovely. With a slight groan at having to move that made Severus chuckle, Harry pushed himself off the sofa.

“Do you need a Dreamless Sleep?” Severus asked as Harry was standing.

Harry shook his head. “I think I’ll be okay with just the music.”

Severus had been the one to introduce Harry to classical music only to discover that it greatly helped with Harry’s nightmares. It had only been discovered when Harry was incapable of falling asleep one night only a few months after Severus had started visiting Privet Drive and they had both been exhausted, desperate for sleep. In hopes of getting Harry to at least focus on something other than his terrifying dreams recreating his memories, Severus had conjured a record player and let Chopin play while rubbing Harry’s back as he remained curled into a tight ball in the bed. Shockingly, Harry’s trembling had stopped and, by the fourth track, he had drifted off to sleep, the first sleep he had that was not interrupted by any nightmares. Once they’d realized what had happened, the classical music had remained a staple in their home.

“Very well,” Severus said and waved his wand through the air. Harry knew there would be music playing lightly in his room now, waiting for him. “Go on. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Harry nodded and shuffled up the stairs and into his room, collapsing heavily onto his bed as the Dementors’ effects continued to ravage his body. The screams—Voldemort’s and his own—had ceased, but the draining despair was still there, stealing his strength, despite the cocoa. He slipped off his wand holster with a bit of struggle as he did so while lying down and placed it on his bedside table before rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He settled in bed, doing his best to focus on the music and warmth of the cocoa rather than the insistent prickling in his scar that had not abated since the attack.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

A month later and it was time to return to Hogwarts for Harry’s fifth year. The Dementor attack on Diagon Alley had appeared in the Prophet, but Lucius had managed to stop any record of their underage magic from being filed. One such benefit of being close to a powerful man that had the moronic Minister for Magic and Ministry of Magic as a whole in the palm of his hand. The rest of the summer break had been uneventful, though, he’d once again been unable to see his friends or godfathers in the second month. Due to the restriction, Harry had convinced his father to let him take the Hogwarts Express rather than Apparating with Severus to the castle. Severus was clearly not thrilled with the plan, worried about what could happen on the train, but Harry had been adamant. It was a tradition and he refused to be the only student at Hogwarts early just because he was the only one with a parent on staff.

A knock on his door pulled Harry from the doze he had started to fall into. A downside to the deal was that Severus was bringing them to the platform fairly early in order to make sure all of Harry’s friends were there as well as the Order members that would be riding the train for protection. He wanted to go over the plans with them.

“Yeah?” Harry mumbled just loud enough for Severus to hear.

“If I open this door and you’re not packed, you are not taking the train,” Severus threatened and Harry flew up in bed, eyes darting to his half-packed trunk, the rest of his belongings strewn around it on the floor. He jumped out of bed and started tossing everything haphazardly into his trunk, managing to slam it shut just as Severus opened his door. He spun around to look at his father with what he knew was the guiltiest expression if Severus’ raised eyebrow and partial smirk were any indication. “Did I not tell you to pack yesterday?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “and I did…mostly.”

Severus just rolled his eyes. “One of these days, child, honestly.”

Harry gave a lopsided grin and shrugged.

“Do you intend to go to school in your pajamas?” Severus said, looking Harry up and down.

“Uh, maybe?” Harry said, flushing at his father’s chuckle.

“You, my son, are a brat,” Severus said and Harry just shrugged again, used to such a comment by now. “Come down for breakfast. We leave in an hour.”

Harry nodded as Severus left his room and hurried to get dressed. He headed downstairs, hopping to skip the last couple of steps, and swinging around the corner to the left to enter the huge open-concept kitchen and sitting room. His father was on the other side of the island at the stove, frying up eggs while a pot boiled on another element. Harry circled the island as well, heading directly for the refrigerator. He opened it, took a quick inventory of available drinks, and grabbed the carton of mango-pineapple juice. He unscrewed the cap and took a large swig directly from the carton.

“Harry,” Severus said warningly and Harry turned to look at his father, finding an arched eyebrow and a disapproving stare.

Harry flushed and stopped drinking. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly and grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

As he poured the juice into the glass, Severus left the stove briefly and stood behind him to open the small spice cupboard just to Harry’s left beside the refrigerator. Severus reached in with one hand to grab a couple of spices while his other ran through Harry’s messy hair affectionately. With a smile at his father, Harry put the carton back in the refrigerator, took his glass, and moved to the island. He took a quick drink of his juice before putting the glass down and beginning to mess around with the other items on the island to make his father’s morning tea as he usually did. It had been Severus’ compromise when, once Harry came to live with him, Harry felt the need to help with meals as he’d had to do all the cooking for his relatives. Severus hadn’t wanted Harry being responsible for such a thing as a child and so had come up with a compromise they could both agree to. At breakfast, Harry prepared Severus’ tea, he made his own lunch as Severus was often in the middle of brewing or something else at the time, and, at dinner, Harry helped with the prep work.

He returned briefly to the same cupboard and grabbed a teacup, turning back to the island where he grabbed one of the two kettles that perpetually sat there, always filled with hot coffee and hot water. He grabbed a teabag—English Breakfast, his father’s favourite—and poured the hot water over it into the teacup. As he let the teabag steep, he brought silverware over to the little table in the breakfast nook that sat between the kitchen and the back door, and before the large bay window that provided a view of the backyard.

Back at the island, he scooped the well-steeped bag from the cup, placing it on the little saucer that sat near the kettles. He proceeded to add a small amount of both milk and sugar, stirring with a small spoon and placing the teacup on a matching saucer. With the small spoon beside the cup on the saucer, Harry picked up the tea and his juice and brought both to the nook, setting each at his and his father’s places in the half-circle cushy booth seat.

Just as he sat, Severus joined him, setting a bowl of hot apple cinnamon oatmeal and a plate with scrambled eggs and buttered toast in front of him. He gave his thanks with a smile, immediately moving to spread peanut butter on his toast as Severus settled across from him with his own breakfast of over-easy eggs, kippers on buttered toast, and fried tomatoes. As Severus summoned the Daily Prophet from where it would be sitting on the entrance table in the foyer and began reading while he calmly ate, Harry took the time to relish this final summer morning. He loved going back to Hogwarts each year, he really did, but he also couldn’t help but miss the calm, quiet morning routine he and his father had during the summer holidays. Spending a night in his father’s rooms and having dinner there once a week at Hogwarts just wasn’t the same.

“We could easily have an early dinner together if you would Apparate with me,” Severus said, obviously catching onto Harry’s sentimental musings.

“Dad, I’m taking the train,” Harry said, grinning at his father’s almost pained sigh and look as he put the paper down.

“Must you?” Severus said.

“It’s tradition,” Harry said. “I’ve taken the train every year, my friends are taking the train. It’ll be okay. We’ll all be together and the Order members will be there. Who will it be again?”

“Kingsley, Mad-Eye, and Tonks,” Severus said.

“See? Nothing to worry about with them there,” Harry said. “Especially Kingsley. He won’t let anything happen out of fear you’ll kill him.”

“Very funny,” Severus said deadpanned and Harry grinned cheekily again, particularly at the fact that Severus didn’t deny the sentiment about Harry’s unofficial godfather. “I am concerned. There is always a strong possibility that the train will be targeted. Remember, they attacked London Bridge simply for the sake of causing fear and damage. Attacking the train would be a direct attack on you.”

“I know,” Harry said with a sigh, “but you know we can all defend ourselves. We know how to fight.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“But we do, Dad,” Harry said gently as he saw the pain in his father’s eyes. He knew how much it agonized Severus that he and his friends had been placed front and center in the war despite being children. “I refuse to hide because you made sure I can fight. I’m not going to stop living just because there are risks. I’d never be able to leave my room if I did.”

“Do not tempt me,” Severus said and Harry chuckled.

“I’ll be okay, Dad, even if something happens,” Harry said. “You know I’ll be okay.” He smiled at the look he received from Severus, resigned pride and love in the dark eyes.

“Very well,” Severus said. “I suppose I cannot keep you locked away forever.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could, but I appreciate that you won’t,” Harry said, laughing as he brought his cleared dishes to the sink.

“Doing so would invite far more trouble than you already bring,” Severus said, coming up behind Harry and putting his own dish in the sink, charmed to automatically wash dishes and return them to their proper cupboards.

“Hey!” Harry said, affronted. “Trouble finds me!”

“You do realize that argument never truly held up, correct?” Severus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Since when?” Harry said, nearly pouting despite his age of fifteen.

“Since you fought a troll in a lavatory when you were eleven,” Severus said pointedly and Harry grumbled, making his father laugh. Running his fingers through Harry’s hair and dropping a kiss on the top of his head, Severus added, “Get your things. It is time to go.”

Harry nodded and hurried upstairs, grabbing his trunk and swinging his bag onto his shoulder. Despite his resolve to take the train, he was glad Severus had already sent Hedwig ahead to Hogwarts so she didn’t have to be stuck in her cage on the train for hours. Giving his bedroom a final glance, always a little sad to be leaving it and their home for the school year, he headed back downstairs, turning right to join his father in the front foyer.

“You have everything?” Severus asked, pulling on his outer robe and handing Harry his jacket.

Harry nodded, shrugging on his jacket and crouching to tie his shoes.

“You are sure?”

“Dad, even if I forgot something, you can just come back and get it,” Harry said, straightening and pulling his bag back onto his shoulder.

“I am attempting to instill a sense of responsibility in you, brat,” Severus said and Harry snickered.

“We both know I’m hopeless there,” Harry said and Severus rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go before I pull you from Hogwarts all together,” Severus said, lightly gripping the back of Harry’s neck and pushing him out the front door.

“And abandon my education?” Harry said, turning to watch his father close, lock, and ward the door. “You would never allow that.”

“Homeschooling remains an option,” Severus said, leading them to the Apparation point on their property.

“You’re kidding, right?” Harry said and his eyes widened at the silence. “Right?”

Severus just smirked, clasped Harry’s shoulder, and Disapparated them away to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As the travel ended, Harry drew in a deep breath and hunched over as his stomach rolled. He glared up at his father.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” Harry said. “You know I hate Apparating.”

“You hate any travel that isn’t a broom, child,” Severus said and Harry rolled his eyes.

Harry stood up and looked around the platform, finding it already filled with families with more appearing every few seconds either by Apparation, Portkey, or the King’s Cross barrier. It didn’t take him long to spot the Weasleys and Hermione, finding Hermione waving at him enthusiastically. Severus must have seen them as well as he gently pressed Harry’s back, encouraging him to head for the sea of red hair. Hermione immediately hugged him as they approached.

“How was the rest of your summer?” Hermione asked.

“Quiet,” Harry said, glancing at Severus as his trunk was taken from him and handed to a nearby worker.

“Harry!”

Harry spun around at the unexpected voice, turning just in time to spot Sirius and Remus before he was gathered into a huge hug by Sirius. He smiled at Remus, one of his two unofficial godfathers—Kingsley being the other—over Sirius’ shoulder. He hadn’t expected to see the men, having resigned himself to just letters and packages through the post as they were consistently busy with Order tasks.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked once Sirius finally released him and he got a calmer, lighter, but no less loving hug from Remus.

“Severus told us what time you were going to be here and we wanted to see you off,” Sirius said.

“We’re going to be gone for a few weeks, following some intel,” Remus said.

“Has a horcrux been found?” Harry asked, knowing the horcrux hunt was the main Order task assigned to two of three of his godfathers.

“No, but there is a possible lead in Croatia,” Remus said.

“We’ll be back by Halloween for our usual,” Sirius said and Harry nodded.

Their Halloween tradition had started with just him and Severus, but quickly included Sirius and Remus after third year. Every Halloween, they would come together and spend the evening sharing memories of Lily and James before heading outside where Severus, Sirius, and Remus would cast charms that created a stag and a doe that would frolic around. Severus would then harvest a special lily that he would duplicate for each of them and that would then give them all a night of dreams filled with those they each missed most: Lily and James. None of them had ever missed a Halloween, determined to create positive memories to erase the tragedy that had befallen them all that day in 1981.

It had been because of that tradition that the three adults had officially put aside their hatred from when they were kids and agreed to get along for Harry, acknowledging the role they each could play for him and what they could each provide for him, particularly in terms of Lily and James and how beloved they had been in different ways to Severus, Sirius, and Remus. He hadn’t been sure they could do it, but he’d been thrilled when they proved him wrong. He wasn’t sure if they considered each other friends, but they were more than amicable and friendly, and it was good enough for him. He understood their rough past and appreciated the efforts they made to look past all of that for him, providing him with the most wonderful family he could have asked for.

“So, we wanted to come see you before we left,” Remus said.

“Exactly. Do well, have fun, raise some hell, get into some trouble, torment your professors,” Sirius said with a grin as Harry laughed.

“Black, I swear,” Severus said, sending Sirius an unimpressed glower.

“Ah, come on, Severus,” Sirius said, clapping Severus on the shoulder. “You know I only encourage it because you’re there to stop him.”

“You mean deal with the fallout,” Severus said dryly.

“What can I say? Kid’s good at trouble,” Sirius said and Severus snorted quietly, obviously agreeing with the sentiment.

“No question where he gets it from,” Severus said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Do not deny it, child, we just had this conversation over breakfast,” Severus said and Harry scowled, shoving Remus away half-heartedly when the werewolf ruffled his hair affectionately with a chuckle.

“I hate all of you,” Harry grumbled, receiving laughs from his father and godfathers in response.

“Ah, the troublemaker we are tasked to protect.”

“Oh, come on!” Harry groaned at Kingsley, his third godfather’s comment, turning to see the man strolling towards them, Mad-Eye and Tonks stopping to talk to Mrs. Weasley. He pushed Kingsley away when the man threw an arm around his neck, giving a deep, booming laugh. “I’m going to find Draco and the others now.”

“Be back here in fifteen minutes,” Severus said.

Harry waved his father off and walked away, Ron and Hermione instantly following him through the crowds, looking for their other friends. They wound their way through the families milling about, nodding, waving, and smiling at those they knew as they went. They glared at the Slytherins that shouldered past them with sneers, children of Death Eaters. They had been problematic since first year, even with Draco’s friendship. Draco was, instead, often targeted with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the others, especially considering Lucius’ betrayal of the Death Eaters. Luckily, Draco did have support and protection in Slytherin from Blaise Zabini and a few others that were not in Voldemort’s circle.

Ignoring the Slytherins, they continued along the platform, searching for their friends. It didn’t take much longer for them to spot Draco and Lucius, amongst the crowds where they stood talking to Luna and her father, Xenophilius. They hurried over.

“Hello, children,” Xenophilius greeted while Luna hugged each of them.

“How in the hell did you convince Severus to let you take the train?” Draco asked Harry.

“By being very annoying and using the standard guilt trip,” Harry said, making Draco chuckle.

“Where is Severus, love?” Lucius asked.

Harry pointed the way they’d come. “He’s talking to the Order before we leave.”

“An excellent idea,” Lucius said. “Shall we ensure our children’s safety, Xenophilius?”

Harry glanced at Draco with exasperation.

“Absolutely,” Xenophilius said.

“Stick together now,” Lucius said to all of them. “Return to us in—”

“Fifteen minutes,” Harry interrupted. “Dad already told us.”

Lucius pat his shoulder. “Good boy.”

Harry rolled his eyes as Lucius and Xenophilius walked away, heading in the direction of Severus, Mrs. Weasley, and the others. “Honestly, they’re all acting like Death Eaters are just sitting on the train waiting for me,” he complained to his friends.

“They’re just worried,” Hermione said as they started walking again, hoping to find Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

“The burden of being loved,” Luna said lightly, looping her arms around one of Draco’s as she normally did. The two had been close ever since they all met in their second year and Luna’s first, though it had started with annoyed exasperation with the girl from Draco’s side.

“Honestly, even I had to convince Dad to let me take the train,” Draco said, hands in his pockets as they walked. “If he didn’t have a meeting at the Ministry, I’m pretty sure he would’ve Apparated me to school.”

“They wouldn’t actually attack the train, though, would they?” Ron said. “They’ve got kids here too.”

“They could easily arrange an attack that doesn’t harm their own,” Hermione pointed out.

“We just have to be on guard,” Harry said with a sigh. “Expect anything and everything.”

The others nodded and they continued wandering the platform. Eventually, they found Neville, Seamus, and Dean. It had also been a fight for them to convince their parents to let them return to Hogwarts, especially Dean with his Muggle parents and Seamus with his slightly paranoid magical mother. Neville hadn’t had as difficult a time convincing his grandmother as she whole-heartedly believed Hogwarts was the safest place he could be. They took some time to catch up on their summers as letters were only able to convey so much. Neville showed off his brand new wand, finally no longer tied to the wand of his father which had never worked properly for him and caused him nothing but strife in school for the last four years.

As they wandered back along the platform to where their parents and guardians were, they, once again, spotted the Death Eater children. They were tucked away in a corner behind a pillar, engaged in what seemed to be a very serious conversation. Harry and the others glanced at each other, all of them curious about what the enemy Slytherins could be talking about. Harry was going to suggest they find a way to eavesdrop when the ten-minute departure warning was called out across the platform. The Slytherins left the corner then and Harry looked at his friends with a sigh.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling.

He and his friends made their way back to Severus and the others, finding them all still there except for Mad-Eye and Tonks. Harry assumed they were likely already on the train. As they approached the adults, they were all pulled into goodbye hugs and handshakes with kisses from Mrs. Weasley planted on their cheeks. Harry was eventually pulled to the side by Severus, Sirius, Remus, and Kingsley.

“Stay safe, Harry,” Remus said, giving him a hug again.

“You both too,” Harry said, getting pulled into a crushing hug by Sirius.

“We’ll see you at Halloween,” Sirius said. “Don’t stress your father out too much, but don’t make it easy for him either.”

“Sirius,” Severus said warningly.

Sirius leaned in close to Harry conspiratorially, whispering, “Save it for Halloween.”

“Stop encouraging him, Black!” Severus admonished as Harry snickered.

Sirius laughed, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Have a good start, kid. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Harry smiled and nodded, watching Sirius and Remus shake Severus’ hand before walking back to Lucius to bid their goodbyes and likely exchange information about the mission. Harry turned back to Severus and Kingsley.

“You are to behave and stay where Kingsley can find you,” Severus said. “If there are any problems, find him. Use your Patronus if you have to.”

Harry nodded. “I will, promise.”

“He, Mad-Eye, and Tonks will be patrolling the train,” Severus said, somewhat unnecessarily as Harry was very aware of that fact, but he could see how worried his father was so he chose not to voice the thought. He just nodded again.

“You’re wearing your holster, kid?” Kingsley asked.

Harry lifted the hem of his shirt to show his holster and wand.

“Good lad,” Kingsley said. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Severus, promise.”

“I know you will,” Severus said. “The question is will you stay under his eye?” He gave Harry a hard stare.

“I will, I promise,” Harry said. “I’ll get a compartment with my friends and we’ll stay there.”

“Everything will be fine,” Kingsley said assuredly. “Kid knows what to do, so do his friends.”

Severus sighed and nodded. “Give us a moment, Kingsley.”

“See you at Hogwarts, Severus,” Kingsley said, turning and heading for the train.

“Last chance,” Severus said and Harry shook his head, amused.

“Dad, it’ll be fine. It’s just a few hours,” Harry said.

“A lot can happen in a few hours,” Severus said pointedly and Harry sighed, hating how many examples the man could likely pull from the last four years to exemplify that exact statement.

“I know, but it’ll be okay. Even if something does happen, we’ll be okay,” Harry said, choosing to keep his bad feeling to himself. Severus was worried enough.

Severus looked pained as he cupped Harry’s cheek before sliding his hand to the back of Harry’s head and tugging Harry to his chest. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist while his father’s wrapped around his shoulders, the one still buried in his hair.

“I love you,” Severus said quietly, kissing the top of Harry’s head.

“I love you, too, Dad,” Harry said. “I’ll see you in a few hours, promise.”

“I know,” Severus said, squeezing him before letting go. “Be good and have fun.”

“I will.” Harry smiled, hugged his father quickly once more, and turned to head to the train. “Bye, Dad!”

He ran off, briefly stopping to get one more hug from Lucius and kiss from Mrs. Weasley. Once they’d finished, Harry boarded the train with Ron, Hermione, Draco, Luna, and Neville. They found a compartment quickly, making sure it was on the platform side so they could wave to their families. As Harry waved at Severus a few minutes later, the usual ball of anxious sadness settled in his chest. It was a feeling he had every year despite knowing he would see Severus in a few hours and still got to see his father all year long. Despite that, he still felt the bittersweet loss of saying goodbye every year.

As the train began to move and their families disappeared from view, they all settled back on the seats, getting comfortable for the journey. Luna began to describe her trip with her father to Albania where they had explored little villages and vast forests for some creature Harry had never heard of before. She told them the story they’d learned from a villager about a haunted forest, a woman having being murdered by a man who had been desperately pursuing her only to be rejected. The legend said there was a tree with markings that indicated where the murder had taken place, but Luna and her father had been unable to find it. Once she finished her story, they broke off into separate conversations, catching up on their summers and predicting their year along with theories about their new Defense professor. When the trolley came by, they all grabbed some sweets, sharing amongst each other.

After a few hours, it was growing dark as the train continued on to Hogwarts through the Scottish Highlands. Harry was playing chess with Ron while Hermione read and Draco, Luna, and Neville chatted when the train’s lights flickered. They all stopped what they were doing and frowned up at the compartment light. When it didn’t happen again, they made to resume their activities only for the train to shake, knocking over some of Harry’s chess pieces, the others yelling in their tiny voices. Harry looked at his friends, finding confusion and worry in their faces. Harry and Draco stood, stepping into the corridor where others were doing the same. Murmurs were running up and down the corridor, especially when the lights flickered again.

Harry frowned when he thought he heard an odd comment and turned to Justin Finch-Fletchley. “What was that?”

“Someone’s saying the last couple train cars have disconnected,” Justin said.

“What? How is that—”

Harry was cut off when he was suddenly thrown from his feet into the opposite wall. Draco flew next to him, slamming into the opposite compartment’s door, the glass cracking under his force. Harry had no time to react as he and everyone around him began tumbling as their train car rolled. The sounds of folding steel, breaking glass, and screams filled the air around Harry. He gasped, groaned, and cried out as he rolled with the train, smashing hard into now glass-covered surfaces and other bodies. It seemed to be forever before the rolling car finally stopped, leaving Harry laying painfully on the car ceiling, surrounded by glass, moaning, and crying.

Harry blinked against the pain and the blood trickling into his eye. He fought through the daze he was in, trying to clear his mind and make his body move. Slowly, he regained control and some coherence, pushing himself to his knees. He cried out when pain radiated from his left thigh and, looking down, found a huge shard of glass buried in his leg. He groaned, pushing himself over to sit, leaning against a section of wall between two compartments.

Swiping shakily at the blood blinding his one eye, he gazed around. Students were all over the train car, sobbing and screaming in pain and fear. He watched a couple students get to their feet, obviously less injured, and begin checking on others.

“Harry!”

He looked to his right and found both Draco and Hermione stumbling out of compartments. They didn’t seem terribly injured aside from many cuts and chunks of glass dotting their skin. Draco fell next to Harry, examining what he could of Harry’s leg.

“E…everyone else?” Harry asked.

“Ron’s unconscious and I think Neville’s broken his arm, but they’re all okay otherwise,” Hermione said and Luna emerged from the compartment as well looking alright besides the blood in her hair, indicating a head wound.

Harry nodded, glad his friends were mostly alright. “We need to get out of here. We need to find Kingsley or the others.”

“We should stay here and wait for them,” Hermione said.

“They could be hurt,” Draco said. “They might not be able to get to us.”

Harry watched as Draco pulled off his jacket and tore it into strips uncaringly for its expensive nature. One was wrapped and tied tightly around Harry’s thigh above the glass. The pressure and jostling of the glass made Harry groan loudly.

“I’m going to blow out the window in this compartment,” Draco said and he slipped back into the compartment he’d come out of. “Bombarda!” he shouted a few seconds later and then there was an explosion that shook the car, pulling cries from nearby students.

“What the bloody hell happened?”

“Ron, you’re awake!” Hermione cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

“No idea what happened,” Harry said, glad Ron also seemed relatively unharmed other than a huge gash running across his forehead and into his hair.

“Come on,” Draco said, returning to them. “We should start getting people out of here.”

Harry was helped to his feet by Draco and they stumbled their way through the hole Draco had created in the side of the train car. They stepped out into the dark, finding themselves in a huge open field, telling them they were still in the middle of nowhere Scotland. Another few train cars had rolled from the track across the grass while the rest of the train was folded and twisted together across the track. Students were crawling from the cars, helping friends and fellow students.

Harry and Draco were shuffling away from their car with Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville behind them when three black smoke clouds hit the ground in front of them, leaving behind Bellatrix, Amycus, and Alecto.

“Look who we found,” Amycus said with a twisted grin while Bellatrix and Alecto cackled.

Harry barely had time to pull his wand before the Death Eaters attacked. He and Draco were forced away from the others by Alecto’s pursuit, desperately warding off her horrifically dark and torturous curses. Harry ducked a strange purple curse, falling to the ground when the movement jostled the glass in his leg painfully. He cried out as a Cruciatus tore through his body, contorting on the ground. It seemed like Alecto was going to hold the curse forever only for it to end suddenly. He drew in a sharp breath and rolled over to see Draco had physically tackled Alecto to the ground. They were wrestling until Alecto got Draco pinned under her, wand stabbing into his throat.

“Imagine the reward if I were to deliver Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy,” Alecto said dangerously. “If we have you, well, we’ll have your traitorous fathers too. Our lord has wanted his revenge for so long. What better way than to use you to get them and bring an end to all of you.”

Harry watched Draco raise his wand only for Alecto to wrench it from his grasp and toss it aside.

“I think I’ll have a little fun first, just like they are,” Alecto said and her words were punctuated by screams from Ron, Luna, and Draco, and the exploding of one of the train cars. Harry swore he could hear Bellatrix laughing maniacally and was sure she had been the one to explode the car.

Harry gathered his magic and pushed it out in a huge blast. He pulled students from the train so they were safe from the fire now burning the car. Bellatrix, Alecto, and Amycus were thrown away from his friends and protective shields appeared around his friends.

“Harry! Harry, stop! You’re using too much magic!”

Harry looked towards the train and found Kingsley running towards him. His godfather hurried to him, kneeling beside him despite the magic leaving him in waves.

“Harry, you need to stop,” Kingsley said firmly.

“I…I need to p…protect them,” Harry said even as he felt his head grow light and his skin tingle.

“You protected them, kid,” Kingsley said. “Let us take over.”

Harry found he didn’t get much choice as he felt his rolling magic fizzle out and he rolled to the side, sick in the grass. He heard Kingsley curse behind him and a large, warm hand landed on his back, rubbing gently. He was left trembling, dizzy, and weak a couple minutes later and he slumped into the ground. He was adjusted so his head was on Kingsley’s leg. Harry fought to keep his fluttering eyes open.

“Ev’ryone okay?” he mumbled.

“They will be,” Kingsley said and then Harry thought he heard several pops. “Severus!”

Dad’s never going to let me leave home again, was Harry’s last thought before he drifted away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

“No, no deaths. Several injured, but they will all be fine in a few days. Meant to be more to scare, it seems, and prove they can get to our children anywhere…no, don’t come back. There is nothing you can do here and we need this recon…he’ll be alright…magical depletion…Kingsley said he pulled a dozen students from the train while also holding shields around his friends…yes, he is extraordinary, but also absurdly reckless…no thanks to you…just be safe, both of you, and we’ll see you at Halloween…I’ll tell him…goodbye.”

Harry rolled his head on the pillow as he heard the one side of the Firecall to look over at the door as it opened and Severus walked in. His father was dressed in his usual robes, but without his heavy outer robe he usually wore while teaching. Harry shuffled sluggishly to try and sit up, wincing at how his body ached. Severus helped prop him just slightly against his pillow before sitting on the bed next to him, leaning over his legs with his hand on the bed.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Severus said dryly.

“How long has it been?” Harry asked, gratefully drinking some water from the glass Severus helped him with.

“Only a day,” Severus said. “It is currently ten a.m. on what would normally be the second day of classes.”

“Normally?” Harry said.

“Albus has delayed the start of classes until next Monday to allow the injured to heal and sort the first years,” Severus said. “The Sorting will be happening tomorrow now.”

“Is everyone okay?” Harry asked, thinking of all his friends. He remembered Alecto on top of Draco, Ron and Luna screaming, and the tumbling of their train car. He remembered the glass in his leg and the cuts covering his friends. He remembered the fires, the glass, and the destroyed train.

“Harry. Harry, look at me, child.”

Harry hadn’t realized his eyes had closed or that his breathing had sped up, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He became aware of it all along with his painfully tight and twisted stomach and the feeling of water rushing in his ears. He recognized the panic attack now and forced his eyes open to focus on his father. Severus’ hand came to rest on his leg under the blanket, a warm weight that always helped ground him, and Beethoven began to play quietly.

“You know how to do this. Just breathe slowly. Feel the blanket, feel my hand, hear the music,” Severus said and Harry listened, picking out all the things of comfort he could see, feel, and hear.

Panic attacks were a semi-common occurrence. He’d had them well before he ever met Severus or entered the wizarding world. Not that Vernon had ever needed a reason to hurt Harry, but when he’d pretended he had a reason other than Harry’s mere existence, Harry’s panic attacks were often on the list. Severus had quickly identified the attacks for what they were and learned how to help Harry through them, particularly as they became more severe with every traumatic event he experienced upon his entrance to the wizarding world. Oddly, they weren’t as common—Severus theorized it was because he now had people he could turn to for comfort—but they had become more intense when he did have them.

It took a few minutes, but Harry was soon calmed and sinking back into his pillow. Panic attacks always left him exhausted, even more so this time given he was still recovering from the train attack. Severus reached out and brushed back Harry’s hair.

“Now, everyone is alright or they will be,” Severus said. “All of your friends that required treatment have already been released and are settled in their common rooms. There were no deaths and severe injury was avoided thanks to you, your friends, and the Order members. The worst injured will be released by the end of the week.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

“Would you care to tell me what you were thinking?” Severus said, his caring, soothing tone turning stern.

Harry groaned lightly. “Dad.”

“No, explain,” Severus said firmly.

Harry sighed again, this time in resignation. “I was just trying to help and protect everyone.”

“So, you Apparate nearly a dozen students out of a train car while repelling three Death Eaters and holding four shields?” Severus said. “You know better than to use so much magic. You have not had such serious magical depletion since third year.”

Harry dropped his eyes in the face of his father’s concern and disappointment. Magical depletion was a serious risk for him, ever since his tenth birthday when Vernon nearly beat him to death. His magic had fought so hard to keep him alive that his core nearly burned out, causing it permanent damage. Now, if he used too much magic, he experienced magical depletion which came with an array of symptoms: weakness, exhaustion, migraines, chills, tremours, dizziness, and nausea. He was also unable to use magic until his core replenished. It was a serious condition as, if he experienced magical depletion too many times, he was at risk of his core being unable to replenish which would leave him without magic all together. It was a condition his friends, family, and professors were aware of, all having been given strict instruction from Severus on the signs and how to respond if he wasn’t present.

On the other side of having a damaged core was also access to excess, powerful magic. He had a large amount of magic consistently leaking out of his core, remaining untethered to his core. It was extraordinarily powerful magic that Harry could tap into in extreme situations, even allowing him to forcibly Apparate people places as he did at the train. It was a double-edged sword, excess magic that could easily lead to depletion if used.

“I am not angry. What you did was remarkable, but it was also incredibly dangerous,” Severus said and Harry looked back at his father. Severus sighed as their eyes met and Harry knew he’d given his father ‘the look’ that usually got him anything he wanted. “I am proud of you for what you did.”

Harry gave a small smile, always warmed when he made his father proud.

“Anymore nausea?” Severus asked.

Harry shook his head. “Mostly just really tired.”

Apparently satisfied, Severus gently pulled Harry up and into a hug. Harry held to his father tight, resting against the broad chest.

“I was so worried when we got Kingsley’s Patronus,” Severus said quietly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, “but I’m okay.”

“You will be,” Severus said. “You are on bedrest for three days.”

Harry pulled back, gaping up at his father. “Three days?” he said disbelievingly.

“Minimum,” Severus said. “Your depletion was severe this time.”

Harry pulled away from his father and fell back against the pillow with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do I feel like I’m being punished?”

“If you feel that way, you are doing it to yourself, for I have no intention of punishing you. Magical depletion is punishment enough, I think,” Severus said. “Especially as you will be unable to do any magic for the first two days of class.”

“Dad!” Harry exclaimed, outraged.

“You know the danger you are in if you do not take the proper precautions to recover,” Severus said, tone firm once again. “We will inform your professors and they will understand. They all know of your condition.”

Harry scowled down at his blanket-clad legs, annoyed and hating his uncle for doing this to him. He honestly didn’t think about the Dursleys often anymore, except in these types of situations, and the reminder of what he now lived with as a result of his uncle’s abuse always made him despise Vernon even more. He heard his father sigh, but kept his eyes down even as his hair was brushed back again.

“Get some rest, my son,” Severus said quietly and left the room.

Harry threw himself back down on the bed and glared up at the ceiling.

Harry and Draco looked up and all conversations stopped as the classroom door opened. They all watched as their new Defense professor strolled up to the front of the room, leaning against his desk. He was young; couldn’t be more than thirty-five. He was tall and seemed to be fairly muscular under his robes which were tailored to fit his physique quite closely. His base robe set was fairly standard with the wide trousers, though his were more fitted, and the long waistcoat over what was likely an Oxford. His outer robe, however, was far more similar to a well-fitted, asymmetrical overcoat. It fell to his knees though at a slant so the left side hung lower into a point over his calf. It had large cuffs and a high, stiff collar. A long row of unclasped buttons ran up nearly the entire front. A glittering gold chain was clasped on to the lapel and disappeared into a breast pocket that had a ‘G’ embroidered. His face was long and slim with high cheekbones, a sharp nose, and a pointed chin. His eyes were a startlingly icy blue, made brighter by his copper skin. His hair was an ochre with hints of red. It was short, cut just around the ears and cheekbones to frame his eyes, straight and parted just to the side so some hair consistently hung just at the corner of his right eye.

“Good morning,” he said though his tone was lacking friendliness and his gaze remained hard as he stared around the room. “I am Professor Grey, a duelling master and former raid strategist for the Aurors.”

Harry shared a glance with Draco and Ron to his other side at the man’s not-so-subtle bragging, feeling unsure about the man.

“I have to admit, the records and results for this class from the last four years are pathetic,” Grey said and Harry raised an eyebrow at the harsh observation. Sure, Defence seemed to always have a rough go of it, but it hadn’t been that terrible. After all, Remus had been amazing and fake Moody did teach them some pretty important aspects of the Dark Arts. “As it is your OWLs year, it is now up to me to make sure you’re ready, though I will be surprised if you know anything at all.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, bristling at the insult.

“You best all be ready to put in a lot of work. I only accept the best from anyone, doesn’t matter who you are,” Grey said. “Slack off once, don’t bother coming back.”

Harry bit his lip to hold back the anger that had begun to bubble in his gut now. Glancing around showed some anger and concern among the rest of the students as well.

“Now, let’s see what you can do,” Grey said. “Get up and into pairs. Show me Disarming Spells, Stunning Spells, Reviving Spells, and Binding Spells.”

There was second of hesitation at Grey’s gruffness, but soon everyone was standing and grabbing partners. Once all the students were standing, Grey flicked his wand and all the chairs and desks flew to the side of the room. Everyone spread around the room and began casting spells at each other. Effectiveness and accuracy among the class was split about half and half.

Harry sighed, annoyed at being unable to use magic, but shook it off and moved around the room instead, helping everyone else. Anytime he’d been on restriction in the past, he’d always been allowed to wander and help his classmates, the professors all praising his ability to help the students learn.

“Were my instructions unclear or am I incorrect and you are the professor of this class?” Grey said, coming over to Harry as he was helping Parvati with her wand movement.

Harry turned to face Grey, surprised at the man’s apparent anger. “Sorry, Professor, but I thought you knew. I can’t do any magic for a couple days, so I was just helping out.”

“I do not condone refusal of work,” Grey said and Harry frowned as the rest of the class stopped what they were doing to watch the interaction.

“I’m not refusing, sir,” Harry said. “I’m recovering from magical depletion.”

Grey scoffed. “No one can produce enough magic for depletion, certainly not a fifteen-year-old.”

Harry glanced at his friends who all seemed enraged and ready to jump into the conflict. He subtly shook his head at them.

“Do as I’ve instructed or get out of my class,” Grey said harshly.

“I can’t,” Harry said. “You should have received a notice explaining my condition and needing a couple days.”

“I received no such notice and no one gets special treatment,” Grey said dismissively.

“It’s not special treatment,” Harry said, getting frustrated, but trying to stay calm. “If you talk to my father, this can all be sorted out.”

Harry saw Grey’s eyes flick to his forehead and sighed.

“Potter,” Grey said in recognition, though it seemed to be very unimpressed recognition. “Your parents are dead.”

Gasps echoed in the room. Behind Grey, Draco and Ron made to charge at the professor, but were held back by Hermione and Neville.

“How dare you?” Lavender said, staring at Grey with wide, appalled eyes.

Harry clenched his fists, struggling now to keep his anger under control. “I was adopted four years ago.”

Grey sneered. “My sympathies to the poor folks.”

More gasps complete with loud murmuring and glares. Grey was not endearing himself to the fifth years.

“What the hell is your problem?” Ron shouted, now held back by both Hermione and Dean though they looked ready to let him go.

“Disrespect and arrogance,” Grey said, never moving his eyes from Harry. “I do not tolerate them. Now, Mr. Potter, you can either do as I’ve instructed or leave and serve detention.”

“That’s not fair!” Seamus cried.

“He told you he can’t do magic,” Draco said angrily.

“As if I believe that,” Grey said, scoffing again. “Magical depletion is impossible for a mere fifteen-year-old.”

“Not if his core is damaged, which it is,” Hermione said.

“Talk to his father,” Neville said. “He’s got all the medical records.”

“Find me the ghost of James Potter and I’ll listen,” Grey said, gaining cries of outrage from the class. “Until then, out of my classroom, Mr. Potter. Detention on Friday and do not return to class until you can follow instructions.”

Harry glowered at the man before pushing past him to grab his bag. There were mumbles of anger and disbelief as he stormed from the classroom, slamming the door behind him. He immediately headed down through the castle, heading directly for the dungeons. He found the door with vines and leaves carved into it, and pushed it open, feeling the handle tingle as he was recognized. He stomped over to the sofa and threw himself onto it, chucking his bag to the floor. He snatched the sketchpad and pencil from the coffee table, and flipped to a new page, beginning to scribble.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up briefly, finding Severus stepping out of the small study with furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here? You should be in class,” Severus said. “You had better not be skipping again.”

Harry scowled at the reference to the month in second year where he had skipped Defence repeatedly to escape Lockhart and the taunting about his Parseltongue abilities. He scratched at the sketchpad aggressively.

“I’m not,” Harry said shortly. “I was kicked out.”

“Kicked out?” Severus repeated in confused surprise. He walked over to the sitting area and sat next to Harry by his feet. “What happened?”

Harry glowered at his sketch as he continued drawing. “Grey kicked me out for not following instructions and refusing to do work.”

“I assume there is a reason for these things,” Severus said.

“He was having everyone cast some spells and I can’t use magic, so I was helping like always and he got angry,” Harry said.

“I sent a notice to all of your professors, so he should have known what was going on,” Severus said.

“He said he didn’t get it,” Harry said, his pencil strokes slowing down.

“Did you explain?” Severus asked.

“I tried, so did my friends, but he didn’t listen. He said I couldn’t have magical depletion,” Harry said. “I told him to talk to you, so did Neville, but…” he trailed off, remembering with a frown.

“Harry?” Severus pressed.

Harry sighed. “When I told him to talk to my father, he looked at my scar and said my parents are dead and made some comment about ghosts to Neville.”

“I beg your pardon?” Severus said.

“When I told him I was adopted, he said ‘my sympathies to them’ or something like that,” Harry said.

Severus’ eyes blazed with rage. “I swear, Albus needs to start getting proper professors.”

“Hey, Remus was great,” Harry argued. “It’s not Dumbledore’s fault you want to kill every Defense professor.”

“Harry, it is appalling he would say such things to you, inappropriate at the very least,” Severus said. “He cannot treat you this way, particularly not when he was made aware of a legitimate medical condition.”

Harry sighed and dropped his gaze to his haphazard sketch, tapping his pencil on the page. “I know. I just don’t want to cause a problem.”

“Do not even go there,” Severus said and then placed a hand on Harry’s knee. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tone far gentler.

Harry looked up at his father and nodded with a small half-smile. “I’m okay. Honestly, I think everyone else was angrier than I was.”

“As they should be,” Severus said and Harry chuckled.

“He gave me detention, too, and said I couldn’t go back until I could follow instructions,” Harry said, feeling bad when his father pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed and on the verge of a headache. He chewed his lip. It was only the morning of the first day and he was already stressing Severus out.

“Enough, child,” Severus said and a finger tapped Harry’s chin, making him stop biting his lip. “You have done nothing wrong. I will take care of it.”

Harry gave another small, unsure smile.

“How was the rest of your morning? How was History of Magic?” Severus asked.

Harry snorted. “I don’t know, Dad, what was it like for you twenty years ago because it hasn’t changed.”

Severus rolled his eyes and stood from the sofa. “Are you staying here for the period?”

“Can I?” Harry asked.

Severus nodded. “Just don’t be late for your next class.”

“I won’t,” Harry said, settling more into the sofa and turning back to his drawing. He just smiled as Severus’ fingers ran through his hair as the man returned to the study.

Harry blew out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall beside the classroom door. He glanced at his watch, raising an eyebrow. Severus had been in there talking to Grey for nearly twenty-five minutes and class was due to start in ten. He liked to think the lack of crashing and breaking and cursing was a good sign, but he was well-aware how dangerous a calm, quiet Severus Snape could be.

“Harry.”

He looked down the corridor to see his friends coming towards him.

“Grey let you come back?” Ron said.

“He’s about to,” Harry said, giving the door a pointed look and watching his friends grimace. “Dad was furious.”

“As he should be,” Hermione said almost indignantly and Harry grinned at her repetition of his father’s words about his friends being angry at Grey on his behalf. The door opened then and Severus walked out. Harry and his friends looked at him with not-so-subtle questions in their eyes.

Severus glanced at them before looking at Harry. “Have a good day, Harry.”

Harry just nodded and watched his father sweep down the hall. He and his friends shrugged at each other and they entered the classroom. Grey was leaning against his desk, arms over his chest as he glowered down at the floor. They all took their seats, the class filling before Grey lifted his gaze. When he did, he instantly found Harry and his eyes narrowed before he pushed away from his desk roughly and turned his back on the class to face the chalkboard.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other, eyebrows raised at the professor’s attitude.

“Open your theory books,” Grey snapped. “You can thank Mr. Potter for the lack of practical work today.”

Grey looked over his shoulder at the class almost expectantly, only to scowl and turn back to the chalkboard. Obviously, he’d thought the class would be angry at Harry and was promptly annoyed when that wasn’t the reaction he got. Basically the entire school knew about Harry’s condition and were perfectly fine with any accommodations that had to occasionally be made temporarily. All witches and wizards were aware of how dangerous magical depletion could be, particularly for a young person whose core wasn’t yet fully developed.

It was a tense, uncomfortable period as Grey lectured briskly about the distinctions between Dark, offensive, and defensive magic and their histories. They all took notes silently, recognizing with annoyance any time Grey insulted a past professor and their apparent lack of knowledge. Harry could feel them all growing defensive, knowing they were more than capable.

Finally, the lecture ended and Grey turned to them, retaking the stance he’d been in when class began.

“Be prepared to do practical work on Thursday, no excuse,” Grey said, giving Harry another look that bordered on a glare. “We are going to run an in-class duelling tournament in order to test your skills and improvement throughout the year. The winner will get a special opportunity.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about the man’s bribery. The bell rang and everyone began to pack up.

“Potter, stay behind,” Grey said sharply and Harry sighed, waving his friends on ahead.

Harry waited until everyone was gone before walking up to the professor and looked at Grey somewhat impatiently. The man had not exactly made the best first impression.

“I hope you know there will be no more special treatment,” Grey said. “Having a supposed parent on staff entitles you to nothing in my classroom.”

“Supposed?” Harry repeated tightly, growing angry again.

Grey scowled at him. “A brat who’s gotten everything for nothing, but not here. You will put in the work or you will fail.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “I expect nothing less, Professor.”

Grey’s eyes raked him up and down with a sneer. “We’ll see.”

Harry left at Grey’s gruff dismissal, seething as he headed to the Great Hall for dinner, ready to discuss with his friends just what Grey’s problem could be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

A little over a month later, Harry was finishing his Charms assignment and dropped his quill, clenching and unclenching his hand to work out the kinks. He was sure he would never get fully used to using a quill. However, looking at the assignment, he hoped it would be enough leverage. He was done all his schoolwork early and had even read ahead in a few classes. He pushed himself up off the floor, wincing at the pops in his lower back chiding him for, once again, completing his homework at the coffee table instead of kitchen table or his own desk. He left the sitting room and headed for the archway in the back right corner of the quarters through which sat Severus’ bedroom and personal study. He knocked on the study door and pushed it open slightly at the quiet invitation to enter, peeking around.

“Dad?” Harry said in an almost cheery tone.

“Harry?” Severus mimicked without looking up from the book he was perusing as he stood at the wall of books.

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Harry said and watched his father’s head rise and turn to him.

“What do you want, brat?” Severus said, his knowing exasperation making Harry grin as he fully entered the study.

“So, I’m done all my homework, I’ve read ahead, I cleaned my room, I did the dishes—” Harry rattled off.

“Harry, spit it out,” Severus said, to anyone else sounding annoyed, but Harry could hear the amusement. His habit of rambling had always been funny to his father.

“I know it could be a risk, but I was wondering if I could go to Hogsmeade with the team after the match tomorrow?” Harry asked. “They’re planning to go to the Three Broomsticks, either to lament or celebrate, depending on the outcome.”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to the village this year,” Severus said with a slight frown as he put the book down on his desk and crossed his arms.

“I know, but I’ve hardly gotten to go since third year,” Harry said. “I’ll be with the team and Ron and Hermione and Draco.”

“I don’t know,” Severus said, still hesitant. “We have no way of knowing if the village is safe and, after the train, I’m not too confident.”

“Please, Dad?” Harry said. “I’ll help with inventory.”

Severus gave him a withering stare. “Are you trying to convince me having you assist with inventory is worth risking your life?”

Harry couldn’t help but huff, crossing his own arms. “No, but, come on. You said you wouldn’t keep me locked up.”

“In your room,” Severus said pointedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Dad,” he said, hating when his father argued technicalities and semantics. “What if Kingsley came with us?”

There wasn’t an immediate response, telling Harry his father was at least considering his proposition. Harry just kept his eyes locked on his father’s as he waited, trying to subtly make his expression slightly more pleading. When he saw the very minute twitch in Severus’ eye, he knew he’d succeeded and held back a grin. Soon, Severus sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Very well, but Kingsley goes with you and you go nowhere but the Three Broomsticks,” Severus said. “Deal?”

Harry smiled and nodded, crossing the study to hug Severus.

“I will take you up on your inventory offer as well,” Severus said, rubbing Harry’s back.

Harry laughed and stepped back from his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

Severus smiled and inclined his head, picking up the book he’d been reading again. “You should head up to the Tower. It is getting close to curfew.”

“I thought I’d stay here tonight,” Harry said and Severus raised an eyebrow.

“I believe you got what you wanted,” Severus said. “There is no reason to implement more bribery.”

“What? I have to want something to stay here more than one night?” Harry said, feigning offense.

“That has been my experience,” Severus said with a smirk.

Harry huffed again, but silently conceded. Unless forced or as bribery, it was uncommon for him to stay in his father’s rooms more than once a week. As much as he loved his father, he preferred to have the normal student experience and spend his time with his House.

“I sleep better here. Thought that it would be better to get good sleep for the match tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. “Can I?”

Severus gave him another smile. “You never have to ask, son,” he said. “I’ll be in in a couple hours.”

Harry nodded and began to leave the study as Severus returned to whatever he was working on. He almost had the door closed when he had a thought. He peeked back around the door.

“Dad?”

Severus hummed, jotting something down from the text.

“Do your Slytherins know you hope Gryffindor wins every match?” Harry said with a grin.

Severus looked up at him again. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret,” Harry said cheekily.

“Secret?” Severus said.

“That you like Gryffindor best,” Harry said.

“Bed, brat!” Severus said, wandlessly sending a ball of parchment at Harry who laughed when it bounced off the door.

“Good night!” Harry said, laughing as he closed the door on his father shaking his head and headed to his room.

Harry zoomed through the air after Draco, dodging Katie and Angelina as they raced away from the pursuing Silas Perrot. He flashed a grin at them, and then at Severus and Kingsley as he passed the staff stand. He zipped around a Hufflepuff stand, ducked a Bludger, and pulled up sharply as the Snitch and Draco darted towards the sky. He caught up to Draco just as the Snitch dropped and they quickly followed, bumping each other to try and throw the other off track. Cheers and screams echoed around the Pitch at their quick approach to the ground. When the Snitch darted to the right, Harry was able to cut Draco off, forcing the Slytherin to fly up to avoid a collision. Harry was able to race after the Snitch unhindered and finally captured it right next to a Slytherin goalpost just as Angelina scored one more goal.

Gryffindor exploded into applause and cheers, and the team rushed over to Harry to celebrate their first win of the season. Once they finished, the team flew to the ground to change and Harry flew to the teachers’ stand.

“Good show, Potter,” McGonagall said.

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry said, smiling.

“An indication for the season, yes?” McGonagall said, flashing Severus a sly look that made him roll his eyes and Harry laugh.

“I hope so,” Harry said.

Apparently satisfied, McGonagall bid goodbye and left the stands, leaving just Severus and Kingsley.

“How is your shoulder?” Severus asked as Harry turned back to them and referring to the Bludger Harry had failed to effectively dodge earlier in the match.

“It’s fine, more of a graze,” Harry said. “It’ll bruise, but that’s all.”

Severus nodded.

“I’ll meet you and your friends at the gate,” Kingsley said.

“Can the Slytherin team come too?” Harry asked, he and Kingsley looking at Severus.

“If they wish to accompany you and Kingsley doesn’t mind supervising extra students,” Severus said, looking at Kingsley who shook his head indicating he didn’t mind. “Very well. Remember, Three—”

“Three Broomsticks only, stay with someone at all times, preferably where Kingsley can see, and be back well before curfew,” Harry recited. “I know, Dad.”

Severus just raised an eyebrow before sighing as Harry and Kingsley exchanged grins.

“If you are not back by dinner, eat there,” Severus said and Harry nodded. “Go. Have fun.”

With another grin, Harry took off to the ground and dashed into the changing room to change. Finding the team waiting, he told Fred and George to go invite the Slytherins and, about fifteen minutes later, both teams plus Ron and Hermione were leading the way to Hogsmeade, Kingsley trailing behind. Entering the Three Broomsticks, their group was directed to a large area separated from the main pub with an archway and they spread out around the two large round tables. Kingsley sat at a small table between them and the bar, allowing him full sight of his charges as well as easy access to Madam Rosmerta for conversation.

Butterbeer and fizzy drinks were passed around as they relived the match and all of Harry’s past ‘incidents’ during matches.

“I still can’t believe Lockhart walked away from Snape alive after that!” Jasper Chamberlain, one of the Slytherin Chasers, said after they’d picked apart the Gryffindor and Slytherin match in second year that had ended with Harry losing the bones in his arm courtesy of Lockhart.

“Considering Snape nearly hexed him there on the Pitch,” Alicia said.

“He likes to torture in private” Draco said conspiratorially and everyone laughed.

“Seriously, Harry, what did Snape do to him?” Fred asked.

“I honestly don’t know, he never told me,” Harry said. “All I know is Lockhart avoided me like the plague after that.”

“Until he ended up in the Chamber of Secrets with us,” Ron said and everyone laughed again.

“And that’s when Snape almost murdered Harry,” Slytherin Beater Simon Carlisle said.

“Not the first or last time,” Harry pointed out.

“No kidding,” Draco said. "Almost gotten us killed right alongside him a few times."

"Hey, you chose to be a part of those things," Harry said, pointing at his friends with a grin.

“Remember…”

Whatever tale Ron was about to reacquaint them all with faded as Harry left the area, finding the rest of the pub to be quieter than their section. Harry rubbed his temple in response to the dull ache he could feel forming and walked over to Kingsley, leaning on his godfather’s shoulder.

“Having fun, kid?” Kingsley asked, looking up at him.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Thanks for coming with us. It’s the only reason Dad let me come.”

“We only want you to be safe,” Kingsley said, cocking an eyebrow and Harry sighed. He must have looked or sounded more frustrated than he’d intended. “It’s all Severus has ever wanted.”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

He found himself drifting back to the beginning. Aside from the Malfoys, Kingsley was the first person from the wizarding world he met through Severus that year before Hogwarts. It had started professionally, Kingsley assigned to Privet Drive as protection by Dumbledore once it was discovered the blood wards from Lily were actually unexplainably non-existent. While activity from Voldemort was not expected at the time, Kingsley’s presence also provided additional fear for the Dursleys if they touched Harry while also allowing Severus to focus solely on helping Harry. Harry wasn’t sure exactly when the arrangement became more than professional. Eventually, Kingsley and Severus began to talk every time they were both in Privet Drive, sometimes Kingsley would arrive before Severus and would spend time with Harry, and then Kingsley began accompanying them to the nearby park and would play with Harry. Then, when Severus began to fight the Ministry for both guardianship and adoption, Kingsley helped provide the evidence of abuse and neglect. Kingsley quickly became one of the first choices to watch Harry if Severus had to be gone for any length of time. For Harry, Kingsley was one of the first people to actually take care of him and he’d quickly become attached.

“Harry?”

Pulled from the past, he smiled down at Kingsley. “I’m okay. Just a bit of a headache.”

Kingsley gave him a searching look. “Should we head back?”

Harry shook his head, knowing the man was thinking of Voldemort and his scar. “It’s just the noise.”

Kingsley watched him for a few more seconds before nodding and bringing his hand up to pat Harry’s back comfortingly. Harry gazed around the pub casually, taking just a few more moments away from his friends, when he spotted an unfriendly familiar face in a far corner with two others Harry could only see the backs of, both in hats and heavy cloaks. He thought the attire slightly odd given it was only mid-October. It wasn’t too cold yet and the pub was almost too warm. He moved his eyes back to Grey.

“What do you know about Grey?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?” Kingsley asked, following Harry’s line of sight.

“He said he worked for the Ministry, for the Aurors,” Harry said. “Raid strategist.”

Kingsley frowned. “The only raid strategists I’ve ever known and worked with were Oscar Wilder, Dante Valery, and Grenadine Cloake.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his godfather. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been with the Aurors for twenty years,” Kingsley said. “Ethan Grey has never passed through this part of the DMLE.”

Harry felt a small twisting in his gut as he looked back at Grey and his company.

“Want me to look into him?” Kingsley asked.

“Could you?” Harry asked. “I know Dumbledore would have, but given his track record…”

Kingsley chuckled. “He means well, but, yes, he is a poor judge of character in this situation, for some reason.”

Harry nodded his agreement.

“If he’s going around saying he was part of the Aurors, he could have forged documentation,” Kingsley said.

“Is that possible considering we have magic? It sounds so Muggle,” Harry said.

“Magic can be used to create some types of documents that don’t require blood,” Kingsley said.

“Like adoption certificates?” Harry said, remembering the kind of ceremony he and Severus had gone through for his adoption, and Kingsley nodded.

“Adoption documents can’t be forged because of that,” Kingsley said. “Something like an Auror certification, though, could be forged with the right spells, or just someone to help write a fake one.”

Harry frowned again.

“If there is anything to find about him, I’ll find it. I’m sure it’s nothing, just someone pretending to be more than he is,” Kingsley said, rubbing Harry’s back again. “Go back to your friends.”

With a slightly tighter smile, Harry did so, trying to put Grey out of his mind for at least a couple more hours.

“I know we agreed you wouldn’t ever interfere with my detentions, but Grey is mad and he gave me a detention on Saturday for absolutely no reason,” Harry said as he walked into Severus’ quarters. “I’m not asking you to get rid of it, but could you see if you can get him to at least move it to another day? I’m not missing Halloween.”

He tossed his bag onto the sofa and wandered into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the bowl that sat on the table. Taking a bite, he returned to the sitting room and looked around for signs that his father was there. He spotted the man’s cloak hanging on its usual hook, but noticed other cloaks there as well that weren’t usually present. He frowned.

“Dad?” he called out.

He heard a door open and turned to the archway in time to see Sirius come rushing towards him. Smiling widely, he was swept into Sirius’ arms and spun around as though he were a little kid. He grinned at Remus standing in the archway watching them with a fond smile. After several seconds, he was put down and he hurried over to hug Remus, just spotting Severus and Kingsley behind in the study where the door was partially open.

“When did you guys get back?” Harry asked, pulling out of the hug but staying tucked against Remus’ side with the werewolf’s arm around his shoulders.

“Last night,” Sirius said.

“Did you find anything?” Harry asked. The search for Voldemort’s horcruxes had been constant since second year when Harry destroyed the diary that had inexplicably appeared in Ginny's belongings and led to her possession, apparently confirming a long-held theory of Dumbledore’s. The headmaster explained it all to them, revealing that Harry himself was also a horcrux, explaining his connection to Voldemort and both of their survival on Halloween. Dumbledore only knew of one other item that was likely a horcrux—a ring—but he didn’t know where it was or how many other horcruxes there could be. After second year, Dumbledore had brought several Order members back into action, assigning them to the search and adding Sirius and Remus after third year once Sirius’ name was cleared. It was proving to be a long search requiring a lot of effort.

“Possibly,” Remus said. “We were going to be talking to Albus today, but then Kingsley and your father asked to see us.”

Harry looked over their shoulders at the two in the study again. They were clearly talking about something and looking at papers on the desk.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, frowning when his godfathers glanced at each other.

“Bring him in,” Severus said behind them. “This affects all of us.”

Growing concerned now, Harry was guided into the study and to the small sofa where he and Sirius sat.

“You’re freaking me out,” Harry said, looking at each of his family members.

He watched Kingsley exchange a look with Severus who nodded and then turned to Harry. “I looked into Grey,” the man said and Harry sat up straighter, interested. “I was right and he was never an Auror. However, he did work in the DMLE up until nineteen eighty-two.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “What did he do?”

Again, all the men exchanged looks.

“What is going on?” Harry said.

“Ethan Grey worked in Crime Scene Analysis,” Kingsley said. “He’s the one that would determine what had happened and write up the reports about what was found.”

Harry thought it sounded very Muggle, like those police shows on the telly. “Okay, but why would he lie?”

“Harry,” Severus said, coming over to sit on Harry’s other side. “He worked on Godric’s Hollow.”

“And the street where I confronted Pettigrew,” Sirius said.

Harry felt his stomach clench at the mentions of his life’s tragedies. “Is…” he cleared his throat. “Is that weird?”

“Not necessarily,” Kingsley said, “but his paperwork is. I pulled his reports and there are things that don’t match up with what we know happened on Halloween.”

“What does that mean?” Harry said.

“It seems it is possible he was involved in the attack on your parents, child,” Severus said quietly, brushing his hand through Harry’s hair.

“It is also possible there are things we don’t know about what happened that night,” Kingsley said. “Some of his reports look forged.”

All Harry could do was stare into nothing as his thoughts raced and his stomach twisted painfully. His father and godfathers talked quietly around him while he found himself back in those memories he’d had dreams of for so many years, seeing a flash of green and hearing maniacal laughter.

What didn’t he know about his own life?

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Harry looked around, trying to make out anything through the dark. He coughed at the dust floating around and settling in his throat as he breathed, cringing at the smell and taste of the stale air. He frowned at the thick air settling around him, feeling the way it tried to suffocate him and its odd temperature, both stuffy and chilled. More dust tickled his skin, creating layers of dirt on his cheeks and hands that he couldn’t see through the dark. As he shifted to spin, trying to find anything, dust and stone crunched under his feet, making him frown again as he tried to understand where he was.

He stopped turning when he thought he saw the smallest of glints. In front of him, he thought the dark seemed just slightly thinner, slightly lighter as though there was something attempting to break through the heavy darkness. He stared at the spot hard, hoping for it to clear. He thought he saw the mist in the spot swirl as though disturbed by a wind that tried to blow it away.

He was going to walk towards the spot when a strange breeze brushed his cheek and a voice whispered incomprehensibly in his ear. He stilled and listened, trying to understand any of the whispered words. He winced as dirt rained on him, raising his arms to cover his head only to feel his elbows brush dirt walls. His heart began to pound as he felt around, feeling walls and a dirt ceiling close around him as though he was in a tiny space, like his cupboard at the Dursleys’. The whispering and swirling mist continued as he dragged his hands back and forth through the dirt.

“Filthy Muggle…”

Harry spun around at the clearly spat words that sounded like they came from directly behind him. His eyes darted around wildly, becoming desperate to find something or even a way out as he continued to scratch at the walls, his breathing getting faster and his heart pounding harder. He hated small, dark places.

“You look like that filthy Muggle…”

Harry spun around again at the new voice.

“Filthy Muggle!”

Harry flinched at the shout and jumped when a face flashed before him, but too fast for him to identify the person. Dust fell over him again, making him cough. The spot from before had thinned more and he narrowed his eyes. He thought he could make out a triangle, but was unable to see more as the dust falling on him grew heavier and the walls beside him began to move towards him. He immediately began to panic and screamed in fear just as he was blinded by a lime-green flash.

“Wait, so, what? Grey could have been involved in the attack?” Ron said, moving a knight to take one of Draco’s rooks.

“That’s what Dad and the rest of them seem to think,” Harry said, adding some colour to his drawing. “It’s all I find them talking about right now.”

It had been a few days since Severus and his godfathers told him about Grey, and it was as though the sudden mystery had ensnared his family. With Halloween in just under a week, the revitalization of the Potter murders was clearly weighing on Severus, Sirius, and Remus in particular, and Harry could see the strain, the uneasy confusion they all had as the night they’d lost everything was brought into question after so many long years. Any semblance of healing they’d managed was being chipped away and Harry could do nothing but watch.

“But, how could that be possible?” Hermione asked, glancing up from her book. “Is he a Death Eater?”

“Dad says he doesn’t remember ever seeing Grey at meetings or even hearing his name,” Harry said. “Lucius said the same thing.”

“Was he connected to your parents in some other way?” Ron asked, watching Draco making his move. “Through the Ministry? Your father was an Auror.”

“If he was, no one remembers or they’re not telling me,” Harry said, rubbing his finger over his drawing to smudge the coloured pencil he’d applied. He sighed. “I just don’t get how it could be possible, how there could be anything we don’t know about what happened.”

“Actually, it’s stranger that so much has been known,” Hermione said and Harry, Ron, and Draco looked at her questioningly. She closed her book on her finger to give them her full focus. “There are only four people that know exactly what happened Halloween night: one was destroyed and wouldn’t have exactly given an interview even if he hadn’t been, two are dead, and one was an infant. There is no one that could have known what happened, not with the detail that is known.”

“So, what are you saying?” Ron scowled as Draco took a bishop.

“A lot of what’s known could very well be false,” Hermione said.

Harry frowned down at his sketch. “Why would anyone lie about what happened?”

“Why would Grey?” Draco added pointedly. “If he wasn’t a Death Eater, why would he want to lie about the Potters?”

“And Sirius’ and Pettigrew’s showdown,” Ron said.

“And what exactly did he lie about?” Hermione said.

Harry drummed his coloured pencil on his sketchbook. He’d been haunted the last several days by the little he remembered of that Halloween. While he hated remembering, he also wished he could remember more, especially now. Maybe there was something he’d seen or heard that could fill in the new blanks, but had been lost through the years and incomprehension of a one-year-old mind. With a shake of his head and a deep frown, Harry sat up and gathered his pencils.

“You okay, Harry?” Draco asked and Harry saw the worry in his friends’ eyes.

He nodded with a stiff smile. “I’m okay. I’m going to stay with Dad tonight.”

“We’re here, no matter what you find out,” Hermione told him before he started walking away and he smiled at her.

“I know,” Harry said, forever thankful for the friends and family he’d found over the last five years. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Flying after lunch?” Ron offered. “Beat some snakes again.”

“Not happening, Weasley,” Draco said. “Checkmate.”

“Oi!” Ron exclaimed, examining the board to see how he’d lost while Draco sat back with a grin of satisfaction.

Harry chuckled, hitching his bag onto his shoulder. “I’ll meet you on the pitch.”

Bidding them ‘good night’, Harry left the Room of Requirement and wandered casually through the castle down to the dungeons. He couldn’t stop thinking about his parents, hating that the tragedy that destroyed his life was ravaging him again. Yet, for as much as he hated what it was doing to him, he hated what it was doing to Severus, Sirius, and Remus more. He would always lament the loss of his parents and have a hole that could never truly be filled, but he hadn’t known them, didn’t remember anything about them. Severus, Sirius, and Remus had not only known Lily and James, but had loved and lost them. To have the night they lost their beloved friends brought up and questioned was causing them a torment even Harry couldn’t understand, and he hated watching it happen. The three men had been through enough, especially in regards to Lily and James; they didn’t deserve to go through it again. He didn’t doubt his father’s and godfathers’ commitment to him, he knew they would never leave him, but he couldn’t help but feel like this new mystery could break something or at least threaten to.

Harry sighed despondently and turned a corner only to come to a startled stop when he almost walked into Grey. He tensed and narrowed his eyes at the man as Grey looked him up and down with an irritated sneer.

“Potter,” Grey said. “You’ll be pleased to know your father has gotten your detention rescheduled.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said shortly, hating how Grey always responded to Severus being his father. It was as though Grey was disgusted with the idea or couldn’t understand.

“Just can’t do what you’re supposed to, can you?” Grey said. “Never could apparently.”

Harry frowned. “Meaning?”

He stiffened again when Grey took a step towards him and his expression turned into a glare.

“If you had died that night like you were supposed to, you would’ve taken him with you,” Grey said in a low, angry voice. “He’s back and people are dead because of you.”

Harry clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth with rage and hurt.

“You’ve got quite the way of honouring your parents,” Grey continued. “Cozying up with snakes and murderers, especially Snape. They would not be happy with you.”

“And how would you know that?” Harry snapped.

“They didn’t want you then and they certainly won’t want you now,” Grey sneered, acting as though Harry hadn’t spoken. “Then again, has anyone ever really wanted you? If your own parents didn’t, well…” he trailed off with a condescending shrug before brushing past Harry and disappearing around the corner.

Harry watched him go, practically vibrating with anger and pain at the man’s blunt callousness.

“My word! Do control yourself, young man!”

Harry blinked at the exclamation and turned to a large painting of a Victorian-era woman with flowers flying around her. He cursed when he spotted the scorch mark in the bottom left corner, partly on the frame and partly on the canvas. He hadn’t even noticed his excess magic making an appearance.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Harry muttered and pushed some of his magic at the painting, easily repairing the damage.

He gave her an apologetic smile and continued his path to the dungeons, mind still whirling with Grey’s comments. He buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and stared at his feet as he walked, eyebrows furrowed and attention miles away. He barely came back to himself in time to not walk right past his father’s quarters, letting himself in. He dropped his bag on the lounge chair and pulled off his robe, draping it over the chair’s back. He was heading to his room when he heard muffled voices coming from the closed study and changed direction, coming to a stop outside the door to listen.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he heard Kingsley say and heard papers shuffle around. “The number of inmates changes, but no inmates died and there were no new inmates during those months.”

“Escapees?” Severus questioned.

“Sirius was the first to ever escape,” Kingsley said. “Two prisoners just…went missing, at the same time as the Halloween attack.”

“How is that possible?” he heard Remus chime in.

“Hell if I know,” Kingsley said with a sigh. “I suppose it’s possible records went missing. Everything was pretty much a disaster at that time.”

“Is there any way to find more documents on Azkaban and the prisoners specifically?” Remus asked. “Surely, if prisoners went missing, records including them would just suddenly stop.”

“I can try,” Kingsley said. “Bertrand isn’t exactly what I would call helpful, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Time to wrap this up, gentlemen,” Severus said. “I have a son to have a serious discussion with.”

Harry’s eyes widened as the study door opened and he was looking into the disapproving eyes of his father, Kingsley and Remus at the desk behind him. They were gathering up the multiple papers and parchments littering the desk, faces drawn over what they’d been discussing.

“I’ll go see what Sirius found at Gringotts,” Remus said quietly, giving Harry a poignant look as he brushed past with Kingsley.

Seeing the sternness in Severus’ face, Harry desperately wished his godfathers would stay.

“Dad, I—” Harry started.

“Unless you are about to give me a very good reason for eavesdropping when you know better than to do so, I do not wish to hear it,” Severus interrupted and Harry dropped his head, ashamed.

His father truly didn’t ask much of him, but eavesdropping was one of the few things Severus was strict about enforcing. After all, eavesdropping had led to Voldemort getting the prophecy and killing Lily and James.

“Have you had dinner?” Severus asked stiffly, stepping out of the study and closing the door.

“A little,” Harry said, and he was immediately turned around and directed to the kitchen. He sat quietly as Severus sat to his left and tapped the table, two dishes of chicken, potatoes, and Yorkshire pudding appearing.

“Eat,” Severus ordered and Harry did so without complaint though slowly.

They were silent as they ate, tension hovering between them in the face of Harry’s disobedience. He knew he shouldn’t have listened—this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d committed this infraction—and he hated making Severus angry. He sighed to himself as he pushed his potatoes around the plate.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said eventually, bringing Severus’ eyes to him. “I know I shouldn’t have listened and I don’t really have a good reason why I did.”

“Do you have a reason at all?” Severus asked.

Harry thought back and shook his head. “No, not really.”

Severus sighed and put his fork down, lacing his fingers together above his plate as he looked at Harry. “You know why this is a rule.”

Harry nodded. “If there’s something I need to know, I’ll be included or you’ll tell me.”

“Precisely,” Severus said. “I also prefer to have adequate information so I can provide better explanations for you.”

Harry nodded again. “I know. I guess I don’t want to make you have to keep talking about Grey and Halloween. It upsets you. It upsets all of you.”

“I would rather have to face that pain than have you potentially misunderstand something or hear something harmful,” Severus said.

Harry dropped his eyes to his plate where he was ripping apart his Yorkshire pudding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry, I’m—”

Harry groaned and dropped his Yorkshire pudding, burying his face in his hands. “Bloody hell, please, don’t finish that! That’s even worse!”

Severus chuckled and Harry scowled at his father through his fingers. Severus had propped his face between his index finger and thumb as he gazed at Harry with amused fondness.

“Good to know I’ve succeeded somewhere in my parenting,” Severus said mirthfully and Harry dropped his hands, rolling his eyes at his father’s amusement, but pleased the tension had passed. “Have you eaten enough?”

Harry popped half of his torn Yorkshire pudding into his mouth and grabbed the other half with a nod. Severus tapped the table again and their dishes disappeared. The man then gestured for them to head to the sitting room where they settled on the sofa, Severus on one end and Harry on the other, feet in his father’s lap with a grin upon kicking off his trainers.

“Now, what did you hear?” Severus asked.

“Just the last little bit,” Harry confessed. “Just the stuff about missing prisoners.”

“It is quite puzzling,” Severus said.

“Do you think it’s connected or that Grey’s involved?” Harry asked, adjusting the pillow behind his back to make the arm of the sofa more comfortable to lay against.

“We truly do not know,” Severus admitted. “It would seem there are many questionable things to explore.”

“Anything else I can know about?” Harry asked, settling further down on the sofa so he was laying down.

Severus’ hand came to rest warmly on Harry’s shin. “There are a couple of reports that are concerning. One reported that Lily’s and James’ wands did not require examination, and another reported that Sirius’ wand had been examined and found to have cast the curse responsible for the murders of Pettigrew and the Muggles.”

“And neither of those things is true,” Harry said and Severus shook his head. “Why does it matter that Mum and Dad’s wands weren’t examined?”

“The last spells they cast could inform what did or did not happen that night,” Severus explained. “By not having that information, there are questions that could not be answered.”

“And saying Sirius’ wand was examined ensured he went to Azkaban,” Harry said, Severus nodding in confirmation. “Why would anyone lie about that?”

“I do not know, but we are trying to find out,” Severus said. “Grey worked each scene and was involved in writing the reports, but it was someone else that signed off on them.”

“Who?”

“Someone named Elias Moreshire.”

“Do any of you know him?” Harry asked.

“Not that any of us can remember,” Severus said. “Kingsley is searching for his personal records.”

“How could he or Grey be involved, but Sirius doesn’t know them? He and James were Aurors,” Harry asked.

“Perhaps their paths never crossed. The DMLE is quite a large department, and Sirius and James were not there very long before…” Severus said, trailing off just slightly. “Unfortunately, anything is possible.”

Harry just sighed his agreement before remembering the things Grey had said on his way to the dungeons. “I think he knew them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Grey. I think he knew Mum and Dad,” Harry clarified and Severus looked at him curiously. “I ran into him on my way here.”

“You had better not be about to tell me you got another detention,” Severus said, looking unimpressed.

“Oi! Have some faith!” Harry said, affronted. “I was walking down a hallway. How could I possibly get detention?”

“You have managed it before, son,” Severus said sarcastically, smirking.

Harry scowled half-heartedly. “No, I didn’t get detention,” he said petulantly.

Severus laughed lightly.

“He mentioned Mum and Dad though,” Harry said once the amusement passed. “He said I was supposed to die and I’ve caused everything that’s happened because I didn’t die. He also said they’d be angry about me being with you and that they didn’t want me, that no one wants me.”

Severus’ face had tightened with each word said. “Harry—”

“I know it’s not true, don’t worry,” Harry interrupted quickly. “It’s just that he talked about them like he knew them and like he knew what was supposed to happen on Halloween, or what he thought was supposed to happen.”

“It is all becoming quite the mystery,” Severus said quietly and Harry heard the underlying pain he’d seen in his family since their investigation began.

“Dad?” Harry said after a few minutes of contemplative silence and Severus turned to him again. “I don’t know what we’ll find out, but, whatever it is…will it change things?”

“If you are asking will I reconsider this,” Severus gestured at the both of them, “the answer is no. Nothing short of hell on earth will make me give you up.”

“You’ve said we’re in the middle of hell on earth,” Harry pointed out.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Precisely.”

Harry blinked uncomprehendingly and Severus chuckled.

“There is absolutely nothing in this world that will convince me to give you up,” Severus said firmly, but still gently. “You are my son and nothing will change that.”

Harry smiled, warmed, and they fell into another comfortable silence. Severus summoned a book and read as he absently rubbed Harry’s leg comfortingly, and Harry found himself dozing. He fell asleep before he knew it, before he could remember to mention his strange dream, comforted in his father’s presence, but found every dream tinted green and echoing with shouts of ‘Avada Kedavra!’.

Harry huffed as he picked at a gouge in the desktop, the mark clearly made by someone dragging their sharpened quill over the spot again and again. Likely out of sheer boredom. He wished he could add to it, just for something to do. He glanced at his watch and wanted to groan at the slow passage of time. He had only been in detention for thirty minutes; still an hour and a half to go. He flicked his eyes up to Grey, casting the man an unseen glare. He despised detention with Grey. He was forced to just sit there, not allowed to do a thing, while Grey did whatever he was doing at his desk. Today, he was vigorously writing though Harry could tell it was not essays. Something else had the man’s full attention.

He rolled his eyes and sat back heavily, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing dully around the Defence classroom.

“How did Snape come to be your…father?” Grey asked suddenly and Harry looked at him, somewhat startled to see the man staring piercingly at him.

“Long story,” Harry said shortly, unsure why the man would care.

“Interesting choice,” Grey muttered and Harry narrowed his eyes. “What happened that night? Halloween?”

“How would I know?” Harry snapped. “I was only a year old. Besides, you worked in the Ministry. Surely you heard all about it.”

He saw Grey’s body stiffen and a strange flash in the eyes. Grey was definitely hiding something and it had to do with his parents. Harry’s eyes narrowed further. He didn’t know where Grey was going to take the conversation, but it was interrupted by a scroll popping into existence in front of the man. It unrolled itself and Harry watched Grey’s eyes dart back and forth as he read, eyes widening minutely as he did.

“Your detention is not over,” Grey said as he stood suddenly. “Stay here or you will be spending Halloween night with me, Snivellus be damned.”

Harry fought not to react as Grey rushed past him and out of the classroom. He waited a couple extra minutes after the door closed before moving, thoughts racing with Grey’s words. The man had definitely known James at the very least; no one but the Marauders had called Severus that particular nickname. Subtly sending his excess magic at the door to lock it, Harry hurried up to Grey’s desk to find what he’d been working on, hoping for a clue about what the man was so clearly hiding.

The desk was a mess, covered in papers that seemed to be on anything and everything. He frowned, shifting papers around until he found parchment with what seemed to be the start of a letter, reading the two short sentences with furrowed eyebrows.

He’s alive. We failed.

It had no addressee or anything else to indicate who it was for or what it was referring to. He pushed it aside and continued digging through the messy desk, moving on to open drawers. He paused when, in one drawer under the course textbooks, he spotted a brown manila envelope. Glancing at the door, he pulled the envelope out and quickly opened it, reaching in for its contents. He grasped a few papers and pulled them out, finding himself even more confused as he read the case files. There were three, one for a young woman and two for men. He found his heart racing as he recognized the last name of, not only the two men, but also the young woman, and as he read through the woman’s file, finding it to be a report of her brutal murder.

The woman was Adeline Moreshire. She’d been murdered at sixteen after hours of torture by three infamous Death Eaters: Antonin Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange, and Rodolphus Lestrange.

The other two files detailed the life, capture, and subsequent deaths of two Death Eaters: Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Harry skimmed through the files with steadily growing confusion as his darting eyes picked out strange facts. He didn’t know much about the Lestrange brothers, but, between Severus and Lucius, he knew enough and that knowledge did not include them being dead or having died on the exact same day. The last name of the murdered girl and lead scene analyst was the same: Moreshire. The third and, quite frankly, most confusing bit of information was the names of two Aurors that had responded to the murder.

James Potter and Sirius Black.

He had little time to continue as the shaking of the door made his head snap up. Cursing, he pushed his magic at the door to hold the Locking Charm and at the files, duplicating them. He sent the copies to his bag and hurried to put everything back to the way it had been. He rushed back to his seat and pulled back his magic, allowing Grey to unlock the door and enter. He sat stiffly as Grey swept up the room and stood in front of him, a hard glare on his face.

Harry prepared himself for yelling or hexing—he honestly wasn’t sure which one the man would choose—only for knocking on the door to interrupt Grey’s decision. Harry didn’t move, but a snarl twisted Grey’s face as he looked past Harry at the door.

“What?” Grey barked.

Harry heard the click of the door latch releasing as the door was opened and saw Grey’s eyes flash with what could only be described as pure hate.

“I apologize for the interruption, but I require my son.”

The relief Harry felt at hearing Severus’ voice was palpable and he could have sagged if not for Grey’s still imposing form directly in front of him.

“His detention is not over,” Grey snapped.

“He will make it up another evening,” Severus told him.

Harry wanted to argue, but didn’t want to bring either man’s wrath on him.

“Come along, Harry.”

Harry didn’t hesitate to obey, snatching up his bag and slipping from the chair as Grey’s blazing eyes snapped to him. He walked briskly to his father, slipping past him into the corridor to get as far away from Grey as possible.

“Good evening, Professor,” Severus said politely and pulled the door closed on a fuming Grey.

“Dad, I—” Harry started only to jump when Severus turned to him, face full of worry.

“Did he hurt you?” Severus asked sharply.

Harry frowned. “What? No.”

Severus let out a clearly relieved breath. “The way the both of you looked…”

Harry thought back to how stiffly he’d been sitting and the anger in Grey as he loomed. He could see how his father had made the leap.

“He didn’t do anything,” Harry assured. “He was mad though. I’d locked him out of the room.”

“Why would you do that?” Severus questioned.

“He’d left and I…took a look at what he’d been doing,” Harry said awkwardly, realizing the trouble he could be in for snooping on a professor. “But, I found something you have to see!” he added quickly.

“We will take a look,” Severus said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder to guide him to the dungeons. “Sirius has found something as well.”

Worry bubbled in Harry’s gut as he walked with his father. Nothing they were finding was making any sense, only causing agitation, confusion, and hurt. Harry was becoming less and less sure he wanted to solve the mystery, not at the expense of his family. A few minutes later, Harry let himself be guided into his father’s quarters, finding all three of his godfathers. Remus was perched on the sofa arm with Sirius and Kingsley standing close, the three of them talking quietly with tight faces.

“You know, I love all of you, but I am not enjoying this new pattern of you all being everywhere I go and looking like someone’s died,” Harry quipped, snickering when a hand swatted the back of his head.

“Maybe remember this is how we’ve looked during every single one of your stunts the last four years the next time you have the urge to go adventuring,” Severus told him, pushing him towards the others to sit on the sofa.

“I wouldn’t call it an urge or adventuring,” Harry argued as he sat on the center sofa cushion, dropping his bag on the coffee table. Remus remained on the sofa arm while Sirius sat next to Harry, Kingsley stood by the empty fireplace, and Severus took his usual seat in one of the wingback.

“Would you rather your ‘saving people thing’?” Severus retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Harry scowled. “Stop talking to my friends.”

“Shall I stop talking to Remus as well then?” Severus asked and Harry whipped his head around to scowl at his godfather, indignant.

Remus lifted his hands in surrender, lips twitching in a clear attempt to hold back a smile.

Harry huffed and threw himself back on the sofa, arms over his chest. “I take it back. I hate all of you.”

He rolled his eyes when the men chuckled at his grumbling and Sirius draped an arm around his neck.

“Shame,” Severus drawled wryly.

“I believe we have some things to discuss,” Kingsley interjected.

“Yes, you both have found something?” Severus said, looking at Sirius and Kingsley.

“I spoke to the goblins and got access to James’ vault, the vault Harry will get once he’s of age,” Sirius told them. “I found a couple of things. A fairly large amount had been withdrawn a few days before Halloween. Considering they were in hiding, a large withdrawal is strange.”

“No record of where the money went?” Kingsley asked and Sirius shook his head.

“No scripts were used,” Sirius replied. “It was taken out and used as pure cash. Any goblin magic that traces coins was removed.”

“How would anyone be able to do that?” Harry wondered.

“A Curse Breaker or an Unspeakable are the only ones that would have the skill to break goblin magic,” Severus said and Sirius nodded gravely. “What else did you find?”

Harry craned his neck to look at his godfather curiously when the man hesitated to continue.

“I found Lily and James’ wands.” Sirius paused again. “They had both been snapped.”

Harry frowned at his father and godfathers as their faces grew concerned and confused. “Were their wands broken that night?”

Kingsley shook his head. “No, they were processed through the Ministry and given to the goblins intact.”

“So, what?” Harry said. “Someone broke into Gringotts?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Severus said, referring to Harry’s first year and the philosopher’s stone. “However, that had been the first break-in in decades, at least recorded. Once the goblins took over, break-ins supposedly ceased.”

“Why would anyone break into a vault just to snap a couple wands?” Harry wondered.

“To prevent any examination,” Remus replied. “We already know Grey and Moreshire falsely reported their wands had been scanned. Snapping them would ensure no scan could ever be done.”

“But why?” Harry asked, not understanding.

“One or both of their wands must have been able to show something about that night,” Kingsley explained.

“And, whatever it was, Grey and Moreshire didn’t want anyone finding out about it,” Remus added.

“Maybe it’s connected to what I found,” Harry said, leaning forward to dig in his bag for the copies he’d made. “Grey had these.” He handed them to Severus whose eyebrows came together low on his forehead.

“This is a crime scene report,” Severus observed, scanning the document before looking up at Sirius. “You worked this case with James.”

Sirius frowned and took the papers. “And Grey? Adeline Moreshire…” he muttered as he read. “I don’t remember this case at all, and I don’t remember Grey or Elias Moreshire.”

“Could it be from Azkaban?” Harry asked.

“No, Padfoot ensured I kept my mind,” Sirius said, rereading the file almost desperately.

“Kingsley,” Severus said and Harry watched as the Auror walked over to his father to look at the files on the Lestranges.

“Dead?” Kingsley said, shocked. “They’re not dead. I just went through prisoner records and theirs were there. Living inmate documents.”

“So, either these are forged or the living documents are,” Severus said.

“Wait, when does it say they died?” Remus asked.

“October twenty-sixth, nineteen eighty-one,” Severus read.

“That’s the day after the withdrawal from Gringotts,” Sirius realized.

“The missing prisoners,” Kingsley said. “Whoever did this had the living inmate documents made so they wouldn’t register as dead or escaped, but didn’t take into account the monthly count.”

“Who signed the death certificates?” Sirius asked.

“Ariadne. Marina Ariadne,” Kingsley read and pulled a parchment from his pocket. “Same person that signed off on this.” He dropped the paper on top of Harry’s bag on the coffee table. Harry’s eyes widened as he read his name on the death certificate.

“What the hell is this?” Harry demanded, snatching up the paper.

“I found it in the Potter file,” Kingsley replied. “I have no idea when or how it got there, only that it had to have been after December tenth because that’s when the investigation closed, and I use the term ‘investigation’ loosely.”

“Clearly,” Remus said sardonically.

“Who is this Ariadne?” Severus asked, looking at Kingsley.

“I honestly have no idea,” Kingsley admitted.

Sirius suddenly stood, startling Harry’s attention from the death certificate. “I’m going to Azkaban.”

“What?” Harry questioned, startled again.

“Pettigrew knows something. He must,” Sirius said.

“He has no soul,” Harry pointed out.

“He still has memories,” Sirius said. “Come on, Remus. We’ll be back for tomorrow night.”

Harry barely had time to say ‘goodbye’ before the two men were gone.

“I’m going to try find personnel files again for Grey, Moreshire, and this Ariadne,” Kingsley said.

Harry watched his third godfather leave before dropping his eyes back to the death certificate…his death certificate. His mind was racing and his gut was twisting. He couldn’t stop reading his name as though, if he read it enough times, it would morph into another name, a correct name. By the forty-third read, he was lost in the spiral that was his mind until an arm wrapped around his shoulders and long fingers tugged the paper from his hands.

“Calm down, child,” Severus said gently. “You are levitating things.”

Harry blinked and looked up, finding a teacup floating as well as the photos and trinkets on the mantle. He frowned and forced the items down, once again having not noticed his excess magic acting up. That seemed to be becoming more common.

“What has you so distressed?” Severus asked.

Harry pulled away and looked at his father incredulously. “I’m dead!”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “You are most assuredly not dead.”

“There’s a death certificate with my name on it!” Harry shouted, snatching the page back.

Severus took it again with a sigh. “While certainly disconcerting and warranting an investigation, it means nothing unless you are implying I adopted a ghost.”

Harry slumped into the sofa again. “Apparently you did.”

“Harry.”

He lifted his eyes to his father. “What’s happening?” he asked quietly, feeling like something was breaking. “What does this all mean?”

Severus sighed again, sadder this time. He brushed Harry’s fringe aside and stroked his cheek lightly. “I do not know, but we will find out.”

“What if it’s something bad?”

“Then we will deal with it.”

Harry bit his lip, his anxiety skyrocketing. He pulled his legs up and curled into Severus’ side, needing contact, needing to know everything he’d found was still there. It felt like there was a net hovering behind him just waiting to scoop him away. He needed the security that was Severus. The man’s arms immediately fell around him, providing that solid presence that kept down the pit threatening to swallow him.

“Don’t leave,” he muttered into Severus’ chest, unable to keep his possibly irrational fear to himself. Severus’ arms tightened around him and a kiss brushed his hair before his father’s head came to rest against his.

“Never, my son.”

“Severus will not be happy if he finds out you’re up here in the middle of the night.”

Harry turned away from the dark horizon view from the Astronomy Tower at Kingsley’s quiet voice. He watched the man push away from the center railing he’d been leaning on and lower himself to join Harry at the edge of the observation platform, sitting against the opposite side of Harry’s archway. Harry was reminded of the few nights back in Privet Drive before Hogwarts when he’d been awake, but Severus hadn’t been. It wasn’t common—Severus had been extraordinarily sensitive to when Harry was awake and distraught—but there had been a few nights where Severus was completely exhausted, but Harry couldn’t sleep. He would curl up in a corner, overwhelmed by whatever trauma was tearing at him in the moment, and Kingsley had sat in the opposite corner, taking away his naturally imposing form and ensuring Harry was not alone.

“I’ve got an Auror escort,” Harry quipped with a cheeky half-grin.

Kingsley chuckled lightly. “What’s brought you up here?”

Harry’s mirth faded and he turned back to look outside. “I’ve been having nightmares, weird ones."

“Not the usual ones?” Kingsley asked, referring to the Dursleys and Voldemort, and Harry shook his head.

“I mean, Halloween’s come back, but it’s different. Blank faces, weird voices, weird order of things,” Harry told him. “Guess this whole mystery thing is messing with me.”

“That’s to be expected,” Kingsley assured. “Halloween was tragic and traumatic, and it’s being dragged up, questioned.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry blew out a deep breath. “I can hardly imagine what it’s like for Dad, and Sirius and Remus.”

“I take it Halloween is not the only nightmare that’s driven you up here.”

Harry glanced at his godfather. “No, there’s another one.”

Kingsley just watched him quietly, waiting.

“It hasn’t made much sense, but I’ve had it a few times now,” Harry said, picking absently at the skin on his thumb as he remembered the dream. “I think I’m underground. It’s dark until I see a small light or movement. There’s yelling, two different voices, and a triangle, then I start to get buried and there’s a green flash. Then I wake up.”

“Have you told Severus?” Kingsley asked.

Harry shook his head. “I forgot after the first time, and now he’s got too much else on his mind.”

“He’d want to know. Your dreams are not typically just dreams.”

“I know, but he’s upset and stressed enough with all this Halloween business,” Harry argued. “I cause him enough trouble as it is.”

“Come on, kid, you know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry shot back. “Did you know he only sleeps maybe four hours a night because he can’t stop researching horcruxes in living beings? Can you imagine how much calmer his life would be if he’d never adopted me?”

“Given he’s told me he likely would have returned to Voldemort’s service in some capacity, I would have to argue that his life would be more stressful,” Kingsley told him. “Not to mention lonely. That man had no one before you and don’t you even think he would give up any of it just for a couple more hours of sleep. That’s why he doesn’t stop researching. He refuses to give you up to anything.”

Harry let his head fall back against the stone with a small huff. “You know, sometimes I want to wallow in self-pity, not have a helpful lecture.”

“Wrong family for that, I’m afraid,” Kingsley said with mock sympathy, making Harry laugh. “Now, as for your dream, it sounds like it could be connected to Voldemort or, rather, a part of him.”

Harry frowned, questioningly.

“His ring,” Kingsley clarified. “Slughorn gave Albus a memory of it, and part of its design and shape is a triangle.”

“A horcrux? I’m dreaming about a horcrux?”

“Seems like. The voices and green light, I’m not sure about, but it seems like it could be underground.”

“I’m not sure how that helps,” Harry replied. “The voices and light, though. What if it’s how the horcrux was made?”

“Like a memory.”

Harry nodded. “What if memories of their creation are in horcruxes and I can see them because I’m also a horcrux?”

“It is definitely possible,” Kingsley agreed. “Horcruxes are basically living things.”

“Maybe that’s how we find what they are and where they are, through me.”

“Let’s not get too excited, kid,” Kingsley said. “Let’s talk to Severus and Albus first. I am not about to encourage a mental treasure hunt for soul bits before we know anything.”

“This is what everyone’s been waiting for,” Harry argued. “I could actually be useful in the search.”

“Not until we tell Severus and Albus, and find out what we can first,” Kingsley said firmly and Harry exhaled sharply again.

“Fine, but not until after tomorrow,” Harry agreed reluctantly. “I’m not ruining Halloween more than it’s already been.”

“Luckily, James’ tail was small enough he could wear trousers like normal while I spent a month cutting holes in mine.”

Harry laughed with Sirius as the man’s story ended while Remus chuckled and Severus shook his head, amused.

“And here I thought you were,” Severus moved his hands up to cover Harry’s ears playfully, “experimenting with a special toy.”

“Well, that is what James announced in Transfiguration,” Remus reminded.

“Oh, I remember.” Sirius barked a laugh.

Harry tugged Severus’ hands from his ears, letting his father’s arms return to where they’d been draped down his chest, keeping him in a loose embrace.

“Can I become an Animagus?” he asked.

“I believe I have said you can begin next year,” Severus repeated for what Harry knew was likely the fortieth time since third year.

“They were only fifteen.”

“Oh yes, and this story has been a glowing endorsement of that fact,” Severus drawled.

“Even I can’t argue with Severus on this one,” Sirius said and Harry huffed, Severus’ chest bouncing under him as the man laughed lightly. Sirius jumped to his feet. “Come on, kid.”

“Go on,” Severus said, brushing a hand through Harry’s hair and pushing him up encouragingly.

Harry took off after Sirius who had transformed into Padfoot and was bounding around the glade. He chased after his godfather, dodging his jumps and rolling on the grass when he was finally knocked down. He laughed as he wrestled with the giant dog, always secretly thrilled to act like a complete child on Halloween, having the fun he never got with the Dursleys for at least one night.

Eventually, Sirius transformed back just as a glittery, blue, translucent stag and doe began running around the glade, looking not unlike Patronuses. Harry smiled at Severus and Remus who had cast the creatures and were talking casually, Remus chuckling and Severus smirking good-naturedly. His attention was pulled from them as Sirius grabbed him around the waist and spun him around, making him laugh wildly.

As Sirius put him back on the ground, Severus and Remus joined them. Harry was pulled to Severus’ side as they watched the stag and doe frolic around, playing and nuzzling with each other. Soon, they slowed and walked over. The doe came to stand in front of Harry and Severus, and Harry raised his hand as if to pet her. It wasn’t possible, of course, but he did feel the warmth of the magic that created her and her stag who was sauntering around Sirius and Remus. Harry smiled sadly as the doe bowed into his hand as though wanting his touch.

“Would you look at that.”

Harry looked away from the doe at Sirius’ voice and followed the man’s gaze to the tree line. He was stunned to see a stag standing there and seeming to stare directly at the four of them.

“Nice bit of coincidence,” Sirius said, but Harry was more focused on Remus whose face was crumpled with confusion.

“It’s not possible,” Remus muttered.

“Remus?” Severus queried.

Harry found himself growing anxious as Remus ended his conjuration of the stag apparition and held his wand in the direction of the real stag.

“Do you smell it?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius sniffed the air and his eyes widened before furrowing into an expression of distrust. He pulled his own wand as the stag took a few steps forward, leaving the tree line.

“Severus, it’s not a stag,” Remus told him stiffly. “It’s an Animagus.”

“And there’s another one,” Sirius added and, as though summoned, a doe joined the stag.

Severus’ conjured doe dissipated as he joined the others in raising his wand to the animals. Harry was pushed partially behind his father in a protective move.

“Death Eaters cannot cross the wards,” Severus said. “Nothing with Dark Magic remnants can.”

“They’re not Death Eaters,” Remus replied. “The Dark Magic remains to be seen.”

“Why? Who are they?” Harry asked.

The stag and doe shimmered and morphed, losing their animals forms and becoming human. Harry’s eyes popped open and his heart leapt into his throat while pounding hard in his ears. He knew them. They were older and didn’t look exactly the same as his pictures, but he knew them.

And it was impossible.

He felt a shudder run through Severus as they all stared, for that was all they could do…stare…

Stare at Lily and James Potter.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

It couldn’t be…

His heart was pounding, creating a sharp ache in his chest, but he paid it no attention. He couldn’t take his focus from them.

Harry started to step forward only for Severus’ arm to extend in front of him, keeping him behind his father. He gripped Severus’ arm, unable to tear his eyes away from Lily and James, the two still just standing there with strange, small smiles. He couldn’t help but jump slightly when Lily suddenly looked directly at him, allowing him to finally see where his eyes had come from.

“Harry,” she said, her voice soft, but there was something else there, something Harry couldn’t identify, at least, not right then. “Look at you. All grown up. I never thought—”

“Don’t you speak to him,” Severus snarled, curling his hand around Harry’s hip to pull him closer and in a clear attempt to shield him from view.

“He was right. What happened, boys?” James said with an odd lilt in his voice and glint in his eye as he turned to Sirius and Remus. “I don’t remember Snape being a part of the plan for my son.”

“Who or what are you?” Sirius said tightly, also shifting to help hide Harry.

“Aw, come on, Pads,” James said with a lopsided grin and holding his hands out to his sides. “Gonna hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t you talk to me like you know me,” Sirius growled.

James dropped his hands into his trouser pockets and his grin fell, eyes turning hard. “Maybe I don’t,” he said, a snap in his tone. “Never thought I’d see you with Snivellus, after all, or allowing him near my son.”

Harry frowned, bristling at the insulting nickname and confused by James’ apparent anger. This wasn’t how he had ever imagined his father to be. As a teenager, maybe, but Sirius and Remus had sworn James had changed, gotten better once he left Hogwarts and married Lily. Even the look in Lily’s eyes was putting him off, never how he thought his mother would look at him.

“Yeah, well, it’s been fourteen years, mate,” Sirius replied.

“And we shouldn’t be seeing you at all,” Remus added, amber eyes flashing dangerously. “I think we’re owed an explanation before you are.”

If anyone was going to respond to Remus, they were cut off by Harry crying out when the pain he’d been ignoring in his chest evolved into deep, harsh, painful pulsing. He grasped at his chest with one hand while the other tightened on Severus’ arm, bringing his father’s attention to him. The pain steadily increased, making it hard to think or focus on anything else. He could just barely recognize the electricity in the air around him and the voices that had resumed.

“Kid really is a little broken, isn’t he?” he heard James say, once again in a tone Harry couldn’t quite figure out.

Harry’s knees buckled slightly, but he was kept on his feet by Severus. His eyes fluttered as the painful pulsing continued, magic leaving him in heavy waves that charged the air.

“Explanations will have to wait for another time,” he heard Lily add and then there were shuffling sounds. He felt movement around him, and heard leaves rustle aggressively and muffled sounds of snapping twigs.

“Sirius, don’t! Come back!” Remus shouted.

There was more movement and he forced his eyes open as he trembled, finding Severus had knelt in front of him and was holding his upper arms firmly. The dark eyes were worried and the long hair was being whipped around as though caught in a strong wind.

“Harry, calm down,” Severus told him. “You’re expelling magic.”

Harry grasped at Severus’ shoulders, clutching the man’s robe almost desperately when the pulsing wracked his body some more. He groaned, the sound turning into a whimper by the end.

“I…I…can’t…” he gasped out. “I don’t…I don’t…I…”

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked next to him, sounding just as worried as Severus looked.

“I think he’s going into magical shock,” Severus replied.

In that moment, Harry had no idea what that meant despite having experienced it before, and he had no capacity to remember, continuing to shake and claw at his father’s shoulders.

“How? He hasn’t used any magic.” Remus sounded concerned and confused.

“Given what we have just witnessed and his damaged core, it is likely an emotional response,” Severus explained.

Harry gulped in a desperate breath, bunching Severus’ robes in his fists with tears burning in his eyes. The pulsing was continuing, causing sharp, electric pain to course through his body. He could feel himself growing weak, his vision blurring and tunneling and his stomach was clenching, making him nauseous.

“D…Dad…”

A large, warm hand cupped his cheek.

“You’re okay, Harry,” Severus said gently. “You’re being overloaded. I need you to calm down. I know it’s hard, but you need to stop expelling magic before you deplete.”

Harry shook his head jerkily. “I…I don’t…I can’t…”

“You can. Just like when you have a panic attack, child,” Severus murmured comfortingly. “You know how to do this. Just breathe and feel.”

Harry tried to do so, tried to focus on everything that made him feel safe the way he did during panic attacks. He felt Severus’ hand on his bicep, rubbing up and down, and the hand on his cheek, the thumb stroking his heated skin. He couldn’t tell if the thumb was brushing away tears, couldn’t tell if there were any to be caught. He tried to focus on those things and tried to pull his magic in, but nothing could seem to break through and he shook his head again in frustrated despair.

“I lost them,” he heard Sirius suddenly say, his godfather’s voice having been absent through the whole ordeal so far.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Remus snapped. “Didn’t you learn anything fourteen years ago? You have no idea who or what you were chasing.”

“Oh, don’t you get on me, Moony. You saw the same thing I did.”

“We don’t know what we saw, that’s the point!”

Severus suddenly moved, standing which dropped his hand from Harry’s cheek and made Harry grasp the robes on the man’s chest instead of shoulders. Harry leaned forward so his forehead was pressed to his father’s sternum, Severus’ hand immediately coming to rest on the back of his head.

“Gentlemen, perhaps we could argue later.” Severus’ chest rumbled under Harry as he spoke.

“What’s happening?” Sirius asked and Harry heard the worry that entered his godfather’s voice.

“He’s in emotional magical shock,” Severus answered. “I need to get him to our quarters.”

Being in his father’s quarters sounded wonderful. He was just barely aware of the pressure that surrounded him temporarily and was vaguely confused when he heard Sirius curse quietly.

“How…?” Remus also sounded puzzled.

“He Apparated all of us,” Severus said with a sigh and Harry opened his eyes, tilting his head just enough to realize they were no longer in the Forest’s glade, but now in Severus’ rooms.

“Through Hogwarts’ wards?” Sirius said, sounding stunned.

“Apparently,” Severus replied. “It is of no concern right now. Remus, get the conduit crystal from my study. He needs the help. Harry, lay down on the sofa.”

Harry didn’t answer, but allowed Severus to maneuver him around until he was laid across the sofa. He continued spasming against the cushions, his fingers curling and digging into them. He forced his eyes open again and found Severus sitting on the coffee table next to him while Sirius stood near the fireplace, and items shimmered as they levitated on his magic waves. A few seconds later, Remus was reaching over the back of the sofa and over him, handing something to Severus.

“Hold this, Harry,” Severus said, prying his left hand from the sofa and pressing the conduit crystal into his palm.

He’d only ever had to use the crystal once before, after the Chamber of Secrets debacle when the Basilisk venom and trauma of what had happened made his magic become uncontrollable, much as it was now. When it happened, his magic essentially became confused, convinced he was in danger and needed protecting again, just like on his tenth birthday with his uncle. His core poured magic, flooding him with it and, since he didn’t actually need it, it overloaded him and poured out to affect everything around him.

Lucius had been the one to provide the conduit crystal which gave his magic something to focus on rather than the non-existent danger. The crystal collected his excess magic and allowed his core to slowly reabsorb it without overloading him any further.

As his fingers curled around the crystal, the hard pulsing in his chest eased slightly, his magic stopped filling the room, and everything levitating dropped. He was able to release a deep breath, albeit somewhat shakily, and he focused on spinning the crystal in his hand even as he continued trembling. A hand came to rest on his thigh comfortingly and he smiled to himself.

“We need to speak with Albus,” Severus said and Harry found his eyes flying open when he felt his father stand.

Harry’s free hand shot out and he grasped his father’s sleeve, his heart speeding up unexplainably. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Severus gazed at him for a few moments before nodding and sitting back down on the coffee table. “Go speak with Albus. Tell him what happened. Also, find Kingsley and tell him the Forest needs to be searched. I imagine they are long gone, but they can look for signatures.”

There were no responses, but Harry heard footsteps, received affectionate brushes of fingers through his hair, and listened to the door open and close. He watched and shifted when Severus moved from the coffee table to sit next to him on the sofa.

“You were unaware you were expelling magic until the pain started.” It wasn’t a question.

Harry sighed and gave a small nod.

“It has happened before.” Again, not a question.

“Two other times this month,” Harry admitted. “It seemed to start when the dream started.”

“Dream?” Severus repeated, a light sharpness in his tone.

“It started about a month ago,” Harry told him. “I’m underground and there’s mist. I see a triangle in the mist and there’s voices, and then I get buried alive. I think it’s about a horcrux.”

Severus’ eyes shut for a long second before pinning Harry again. “And you decided this was not something I needed to know about?”

“At first, I honestly just forgot,” Harry replied. “Then, all of this stuff about Halloween started and I didn’t want to stress you out even more.”

Severus’ stared turned harder.

“I told Kingsley,” Harry hurried to add. “He’s the one that thought I might be seeing a horcrux and hearing its creation.”

“The horcrux in you could be impacting your magic, especially if it is reaching for the others,” Severus said thoughtfully before rubbing his forehead. “You should have told me about this dream and your magic when they both started.”

“I know,” Harry agreed. “I didn’t want to ruin Halloween. Though, guess that happened anyway, considering.”

Severus’ expression changed into a mix of alarm and sympathy. The man’s hand came up and brushed his hair back, cupping his cheek again briefly.

“It couldn’t have really been them,” Harry said, eyes flicking up to his father’s. “Could it?”

Severus sighed. “Typically, I would say no. however, given all we have discovered and have yet to understand, I truthfully cannot say for certain.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as his mind raced, attempting to process what he’d seen now his magic was more under control.

“If…if it really was them, they…they weren’t what I’d imagined they’d be like,” Harry said, rolling the crystal in his hand absently. “They weren’t like how you all told me.”

“Which is why we cannot be certain it was them.”

Harry’s furrow evolved into a frown. “If it was them…if they’ve been alive all this time…” he hesitated before voicing his deep dark fear. “Why didn’t they come back for me?”

Severus’ face softened and he cradled Harry’s face for the third time. “I don’t know, child.”

Harry felt a single, light tear fall from the corner of his eye and trail across his temple into his hair. “Can you…stay? Just for a minute?”

Severus didn’t say anything, but helped Harry to sit up before moving to sit behind him. Severus moved them until Harry’s back was resting against Severus’ chest as Severus settled into the corner of the sofa. His father’s arm curled across his chest, hand rubbing Harry’s upper arm.

“I will never be anywhere else,” Severus murmured.

Harry leaned his head slightly to lay it against Severus’ shoulder and stared into the fire flickering in the fireplace, monotonously turning the crystal over and over between both hands. He sat in the silence and comfort provided by his father, fighting to think of the years given to him by the man who chose him and not the years stolen from him by those who may have chosen to leave him behind.

Harry pushed at his sausage despondently, watching it roll back across his plate. He pushed it again and it rolled back, the pattern repeating. He felt ill despite the Anti-Nausea Potion he’d been given, telling him his rolling stomach wasn’t just a result of his chaotic core from last night. While his magic was back under control, he could still feel it sizzling within him, still agitated by his simmering, unsettled emotions. He couldn’t turn off his anxiety, his confusion, his fear, his hurt. He couldn’t stop seeing them, whoever they were. He couldn’t stop seeing the way they had looked at him and spoken about him, sounding…disappointed? Annoyed? Surprised? Angry? Disgusted?

He just didn’t understand.

“Harry, you need to eat.”

He sighed, stabbed a small bit of egg, and put it in his mouth only to drop his fork and push his plate away. “I can’t.”

“I know this is all very distressing, but I won’t have you hurting yourself,” Severus told him.

“I’m not,” Harry protested. “I’m just not hungry and I want answers.”

“Which, realistically, we may not get immediately,” Severus argued.

Harry slumped in his chair. “I know,” he muttered.

They were interrupted by the appearance of Remus’ wolf Patronus.

“Kingsley has arrived and Albus wishes to see us, both about last night and the horcruxes.”

“I want you to get some rest,” Severus said as he stood. “I will return as soon as I can.”

Harry immediately shook his head and also got to his feet. “I am not waiting. I’m coming with you.”

“Harry, you need rest after being in shock. You could relapse,” Severus told him.

“Honestly, I’ll relapse if you make me stay here alone and wait,” Harry argued. “Anything I come up with here alone will be way worse than anything that’s going to be said in that office.”

Severus continued staring at him, clearly hesitant.

“Dad, I’m going to be honest. If you don’t let me come, I will break every one of your rules and be there anyway,” Harry told him and, despite the seriousness of the situation, grinned at Severus’ heavy sigh and eyeroll.

“I suppose I must appreciate the transparency,” Severus said with exasperation, eyes returning to Harry. “Very well. Come with me. However, if you begin to feel unwell, you will leave with no complaints, agreed?”

Harry nodded. “Promise.”

“Come along then.”

Severus guided Harry out of their quarters with a hand between his shoulders and they made their way up to the headmaster’s office. Upon entering, they found Dumbledore behind his desk looking concerned, Kingsley leaning against the tall window’s ledge with his arms crossed, and Remus sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk as he talked quietly with Sirius who was perched on the desk’s corner. They all turned and looked up as they joined, Harry pulled to Sirius’ side before he could sit beside Remus. He hugged his godfather, remembering all that had broken the previous evening and was the reason for all of them being there. A part of him wanted to escape, pretend it was all a terrible nightmare, but he knew it was impossible. None of them could ignore all they’d learned up to that point and what they had seen last night.

“How are you feeling, kid?” Sirius asked, still holding Harry close.

“I’m okay. Magic’s back to normal.”

“To an extent,” Severus jumped in. “He should be resting, but he threatened to crash this meeting if I didn’t allow him to accompany me.”

Harry grinned sheepishly as his godfathers laughed and Severus shook his head, amused. He finally moved to sit in the other chair beside Remus and Severus stood behind him.

“In light of what occurred last night, Kingsley has updated me on the investigation you have undertaken these last few weeks,” Dumbledore said and the others nodded. “That being said, Kingsley, if you would tell us what you found.”

Harry looked over at Kingsley as the man left the window and stood next to Sirius.

“As you anticipated, we found no one in the Forest. Even the centaurs saw nothing,” Kingsley told them. “We also did not find any magical signatures except for one.”

“That’s impossible,” Sirius protested. “They were there. We all saw them and I know their scents.”

“Whether it was actually them or not, there has to be signatures,” Remus added. “They were Animagi and they transformed. There had to be signatures.”

“Unless they masked their signatures,” Severus offered. “Though, that is nearly impossible to do unless you use goblin magic or are an Unspeakable with the masking pendant.”

Kingsley nodded. “Which goes into the rest. We found one signature, but it was tampered with.”

Harry frowned, confused. “What does that mean?”

“It is a signature that someone has attempted to make look like someone else’s,” Kingsley explained. “Except this masking form is weak and we could identify both. The signature masking is Ethan Grey.”

Harry, at first, didn’t think that too strange. Grey was a professor at Hogwarts, after all, and his signature showing up in the forest wasn’t impossible. Then, it fully registered that Kingsley was saying Grey’s signature was hiding someone else’s, meaning Ethan Grey didn’t actually exist. So, who…

“The underlying signature, the real signature is Elias Moreshire,” Kingsley finished and Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“Are you saying Ethan Grey and Elias Moreshire are the same person?” Remus asked and Kingsley nodded.

“How is that possible?” Sirius asked demandingly. “Both of their names are on reports for scenes they had worked.”

“Forged,” Kingsley replied. “It seems to have been an attempt to make it seem like they were separate people to avoid detection in the forgeries.”

“But how did he mask his magic?” Harry asked. “He’s not all that powerful and I haven’t seen any kind of pendant.”

“That is the other part of what I found,” Kingsley answered. “He has used a masking spell only known by Unspeakables and Aurors. It doesn’t fully mask a signature. It’s meant to dampen it, but he seems to have changed it to try and create a brand new signature to hide Elias Moreshire’s. Marina Ariadne is an Unspeakable whose name appears on several documents involving Grey, Moreshire, and Halloween. I haven’t been able to physically track her down yet, but she has very clear ties to Grey, Moreshire, and James Potter.”

“So, she’s involved,” Severus said tightly.

“Seems like,” Kingsley agreed. “I don’t think details were changed about Halloween. I think the entire narrative was changed, and I think James and Lily survived.”

As they sat in a stunned, disconcerted silence, Harry just stared at the floor. His mind was spinning as Kingsley’s theory echoed in his head and tore his world apart.

James and Lily survived.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

This time when Harry’s magic started spiralling with his thoughts and the sharp pain stabbed his chest, he was aware of it. Not wanting his father to remove him from the meeting, he fought to contain his excess magic and stop it from pouring out. Holding back while his thoughts and emotions continued to demand a magical outlet made the pain in his chest worse, but he ignored it, focusing on the unbelievable theory Kingsley had presented.

James and Lily couldn’t be alive. No matter what they’d seen, it just wasn’t possible. They were dead, had died protecting him. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be because…

Because if it was true, then they hadn’t died for him.

Because if it was true, then everything was a lie.

Because if it was true, then they’d left him behind for fourteen years.

That’s why it couldn’t be true because they wouldn’t have abandoned him…

Would they?

No, of course not. They’d loved him…

Hadn’t they?

“It can’t be,” Remus eventually said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t make sense and, besides, Lily wasn’t an Animagus.”

Yes, exactly! Remus was right. It couldn’t have been Lily and James! It was just some sick trick.

“Given everything else we seem to not know, Lily being an Animagus is not high on the list of impossibilities,” Kingsley pointed out and Harry’s hopes for a sick prank sank with his heart. “Plus, if I’m right, it’s been fourteen years. A lot can happen in that kind of time.”

“There has to be another explanation,” Remus argued and Harry looked around at the others, finding deep, pained contemplation and resignation.

“You know their scents as well as I do, Moony,” Sirius said quietly, almost reluctantly.

“Scents can be altered,” Remus objected.

“Not enough to get past us, especially you,” Sirius replied and the way Remus’ face tightened told Harry the werewolf was running out of arguments.

“What about the bodies?” Remus tried again, looking at Sirius and Dumbledore. “You both saw them.”

“I did see both, yes,” Dumbledore agreed with a slow nod and Harry felt the smallest sliver of hope rise within him. “However, it is possible to change one’s appearance.”

“Polyjuice would have worn off and no charms last after death,” Remus stated matter-of-factly.

“Unless they were already dead,” Kingsley said bluntly.

“Lily was exceptional at charm work,” Severus added and Harry felt his sliver of hope die. If Severus was arguing for Kingsley’s theory, it had to be true.

“Severus, you can’t possibly believe this,” Remus said, astonished.

“I don’t wish to, but I am seeing no other explanations,” Severus replied, sounding pained at his own admission.

“It explains nearly everything we’ve found,” Kingsley told them. “They paid someone off to get the Lestranges from Azkaban. They paid Ariadne to forge documents. They had Grey help stage Godric’s Hollow and write the reports to hide the truth.”

“It would also explain the lack of blood wards around Privet Drive,” Dumbledore interjected.

Harry sunk in his chair with his heart and stomach, further and further, while his eyes burned and his magic screamed to be released. His world was fracturing.

“By saying this, we’re saying Lily and James murdered the Lestranges. We’re saying they helped send you to Azkaban,” Remus said to Sirius. “We’re saying they left…”

“Me,” Harry whispered when his godfather stopped abruptly and it was as though the single word broke the lock on his magic. He felt it rush out of him in a short, but strong burst and the window cracked loudly. He sighed when Severus’ hand landed on his shoulder and everyone’s eyes landed on him.

“Perhaps you should take a break, son.”

“No, please. I know I promised not to argue, but please let me stay,” Harry said, turning to look up at his father.

“Harry…”

“I need to hear this. Please, Dad,” Harry pleaded. “I’m okay, I promise.”

Severus stared at him for a long minute before releasing his own reluctant sigh and nodding, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Very well.”

Harry gave him a small, grateful smile and turned back around, ignoring the way his magic still sizzled in his gut. Severus’ hand came to rest on him again, palm pressed warmly to the front of his shoulder, and Remus laid his own hand on Harry’s leg.

“If this is what we’re saying is true,” Remus continued, “then why? Why would they do this?”

“There are still many unanswered questions and that is among them,” Dumbledore replied. “I suggest we cease speculating until we have further information and evidence.”

“How do we do that?” Sirius asked. “Seems like they did a damn good cover-up job.”

“I’ll find Ariadne,” Kingsley suggested. “There’s still some parts of Archives and Records I haven’t gotten into. Restricted areas. I’m sure something will be hidden down there.”

“Do be careful not to endanger yourself,” Dumbledore cautioned and Kingsley nodded before leaving the office, patting Harry’s shoulder comfortingly. “Sirius, speak with Gringotts again about the withdrawals, the wands, and anything else they may know about. Remus, I would like you to go to Godric’s Hollow. Perhaps there are things we missed in the tragedy and emotion of the night. I will arrange a visit with Peter Pettigrew.”

“I tried already,” Sirius told him. “He couldn’t give me anything.”

“You are unable to Legilimize him,” Dumbledore pointed out and Sirius inclined his head in understanding. “Additionally, Ethan Grey may prove to be useful.”

“You cannot be serious,” Severus protested. “He’s a clear threat to Harry.”

“He may lead us to the truth,” Dumbledore said.

“He’s right,” Harry jumped in. “Grey’s already been trying to find things out about what happened on Halloween. Maybe I can get him to reveal something.”

Severus blew out a very obviously frustrated breath.

“I’ll be careful,” Harry promised. “I’ll get my friends to help. I won’t do anything alone.”

Severus just gave a single stiff nod and squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

“I must caution you two as well,” Dumbledore said to Harry’s godfathers. “We cannot allow Grey to know we are onto his role in all of this, nor that we are aware of his true identity.”

Agreeing, Sirius and Remus followed Kingsley in leaving the office after giving Harry a comforting pat or squeeze. Severus finally moved from standing behind Harry and took Remus’ spot next to him, replacing Remus’ hand on his leg.

“Have you been struggling with your magic, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, gazing at Harry after glancing at the cracked window.

“A little,” Harry admitted.

“He has begun expelling magic without realizing,” Severus added.

Dumbledore’s forehead crinkled as he stared at Harry. “When did this begin?”

“Beginning of the month,” Harry said. “Same time as the dreams.”

“Dreams?” Dumbledore echoed and Harry nodded.

“I think it’s about a horcrux,” Harry explained. “I think I’m seeing where it is and hearing how it was created. I hear voices.”

“Do you know which horcrux?” Dumbledore wondered.

“Kingsley thinks it’s the ring,” Harry told him. “I think he killed his father to make it.”

“I would have to agree,” Dumbledore said and placed a photo on the desk. Harry leaned forward to see it, finding it to be a close-up of a woman’s hand with a gold ring with a triangular, pyramid-shaped black stone. “Is this what you have seen?”

Harry nodded, looking at the headmaster curiously.

“I learned of this ring from Horace Slughorn, a former professor here at Hogwarts, as you know. He told me about it as well as about the day he told Tom Riddle about horcruxes,” Dumbledore explained. “This ring was last seen, except by Horace, on the hand of Merope Gaunt, Voldemort’s mother, when she died in childbirth at Wool’s Orphanage. It was sold to Borgin and Burke’s before being bought by Morfin Gaunt, the wizard accused of murdering Tom Riddle Senior and his parents. The ring was not found with Morfin and was not seen since until Horace saw Voldemort wearing it in his seventh year.”

“Voldemort stole it,” Harry realized. “Killed his father and made it a horcrux.”

“And made his uncle take the blame for the murders,” Dumbledore confirmed. “That is as far as I have been able to track it. I do not know where Voldemort has hidden it.”

“What if it’s still there in Little Hangleton?” Harry suggested. “I’ve been seeing it underground, I think. What if it’s in the graveyard? It would explain why he went back there for the Resurrection Ritual. He needed a horcrux nearby to be stronger.”

“A sound theory. A matter I will leave for an Order meeting,” Dumbledore mused. “Is anything else occurring with these dreams aside from magical outbursts?”

“Scar pain as usual.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh dear,” Dumbledore murmured and Harry’s stomach twisted while Severus’ hand tightened on his leg. His scar hurting wasn’t new, nor was pain associated with dreams, so what had Dumbledore concerned?

“Albus, what is happening to my son?” Severus asked stiffly.

“I cannot be certain, of course, given the unknowns of the circumstances,” Dumbledore answered. “However, I believe the horcrux within you is seeking power and is tapping into your excess as it is free magic not tethered to your core. I believe it is absorbing your magic, but cannot control it which is likely causing the outbursts. It would also explain the dreams. The horcrux in you is using your magic to grow stronger and reach out to the others as they want to be reunited.”

“And the outcome should this continue?” Severus pressed.

“I cannot say for certain. There is no precedent for this,” Dumbledore replied.

“Then guess,” Severus growled. When Dumbledore glanced at Harry, still hesitant to offer his insights, Severus said, “Harry, please leave. I will meet you in our rooms.”

“What? No. Dad,” Harry protested.

“I am not negotiating,” Severus said firmly. “We will have our own discussion once I am done here.”

“But, Dad—”

“Do not argue with me,” Severus snapped. “Go.”

Glaring and huffing, Harry stormed from the office. He honestly did have every intention of doing as he’d been told—he’d gotten in trouble for eavesdropping only a week ago, after all—but then he realized the door hadn’t latched behind him. Knowing he would be in trouble and likely grounded for life, he stood outside the door and listened.

“Albus, be straight with me,” Severus said and Harry frowned, his heart squeezing at the pain he could hear in his father’s voice. “Am I going to lose my son?”

There was a long pause and Harry leaned against the wall, letting his head fall back as an ache engulfed his heart.

“Until we find a way to free Harry of his horcrux, you know it remains a possibility,” Dumbledore finally replied.

“I have searched every book I can get my hands on,” Severus said, sounding defeated. “I have started learning to translate ancient languages, for Merlin’s sake. There’s nothing.”

“There is still hope,” Dumbledore said, trying to sound reassuring. “Until we find something, perhaps we can use this new development to find the others.”

“You want to use my son to hunt horcruxes knowing the horcrux is killing him?” Severus ground out.

“Do you truly believe Harry has not already had the same thought?”

Harry huffed to himself. Was he really so predictable?

“I’m sure he has, but we are not meant to follow the lead of a fifteen-year-old,” Severus argued. “I am not sacrificing my son.”

“Nor am I asking you to, but I do ask you to consider that his growing connection to the other horcruxes may be our best solution. Perhaps our only way forward,” Dumbledore told him.

“And what of Lily and James?” Severus asked, obviously choosing to just side-step the horcrux issue. “If it wasthem, if they are alive…can they take him from me?”

“I truly do not know.”

Suddenly, Harry felt he’d heard enough. He couldn’t listen to more. Filled with anguish at his father’s despair, he left his spot and headed down to the dungeons as he’d been instructed. In Severus’ rooms, he sat heavily on the sofa, folding his legs under him and settling into the corner as he gazed up at the photo on the mantle. It was a Muggle picture of him and Severus hugging, little eleven-year-old him wrapped around his father completely. Fuzzy in the background around them was Kingsley, the Weasleys, Hermione, and the Malfoys. It had been taken at the party thrown by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Lucius in honour of Severus officially adopting Harry after more than a year of fighting the Ministry.

He sighed at the photo, hating the pain he was putting the man through. He looked away from it as the door opened and Severus walked in, looking haunted. They gazed at each other, Harry waiting for the anger over his eavesdropping. He had no illusions that Severus didn’t know he’d listened. Eventually, though, Severus just shook his head and walked through the sitting room.

“We are not discussing it,” Severus said shortly and Harry blinked before jumping up on the sofa, spinning around on his knees to look over the back at Severus who was heading to the archway.

“You said we would,” Harry argued.

“I am not negotiating you martyring yourself.”

“Dad—”

Severus spun around, eyes flashing. “I am not losing you!”

“You might not have a choice and we both know that!” Harry shot back. They stared at each other for a long while again, the silence between them heavy. Harry sighed. “We need to find the horcruxes and I could be the way we do that.”

“I am not giving you up for this war,” Severus refused.

“Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe I can find the horcruxes fast enough before it kills me,” Harry said optimistically, “but if I’m going to die, I’d rather die doing something.”

“You are a child.”

“Yeah, I am, because of you,” Harry agreed, “but I’m also Harry Potter and everything that comes with that. I’m the only one that can end this, but you have to let me. Let me choose what to do with whatever time I might have. Let me do what I have to.”

The look in Severus’ eye was hard and his face was tight with agony. Yet, as the man walked towards him and the sofa, Harry could also see a telltale light.

Pride.

Severus stood at the back of the sofa and reached out, cupping Harry’s cheek. “You have a remarkable strength.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Severus, head resting on the man’s sternum. “Also because of you.”

Severus’ chest lifted under him as the man let out a deep breath and a hand ran down the back of his head. “Very well, but you do nothing alone, understand?”

Harry nodded and pulled back, looking up at Severus again.

“I am not giving up on you,” Severus promised and Harry smiled again.

“I know.”

“Head back to your tower now. Spend some time with your friends,” Severus told him. “I have some work to do.”

Harry knew it wasn’t work, but horcrux research the man was going to lose himself in as he watched Severus retrace his steps to the archway. Gazing at his father, he remembered the last fear he’d heard Severus voice to the headmaster.

“Dad,” he called and Severus turned to him again. “I won’t choose them.”

There was the briefest look of questioning in Severus’ eyes before it was replaced with recognition and resignation. Severus sighed sadly, looking at him as though Harry had already made his choice.

“And if there is a perfectly reasonable and acceptable explanation?”

“There’s not,” Harry responded quickly, hardly waiting for Severus to finish. “There is no good explanation.”

“Harry, they’re your parents.”

Harry shook his head and left the sofa, circling it to walk over to the man. “My parents are dead. You’re my parent. There is no good reason. You taught me this. You told me there could never have been a good enough reason for what the Dursleys did to me. It’s the same thing. There can never be a good enough reason for leaving me to Voldemort. There can never be a good enough reason for leaving me with the Dursleys. There can never be a good enough reason for abandoning me for fourteen years. I will never go with them.”

As Severus stared at him, Harry could see the slightest hint of tears and bob in the throat as his father fought back his emotions.

“There is not a single thing in my life that explains how I came to deserve you.”

Harry smiled. “There is.”

Severus looked at him curiously.

“You chose me. They didn’t.”

He was quickly pulled into another hug and a kiss was pressed to his hair.

“You will always be the greatest choice I have ever made,” Severus murmured and Harry held to his father even tighter. They held to each other for several seconds before Harry spoke.

“Can I help you research?”

“Do you have homework?”

“Can we pretend I don’t for now?”

Severus just chuckled and led him into the study.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

A couple days later found Harry finally leaving Severus’ rooms. Not only was it Monday and he was not allowed to miss class without an immediate threat of death present—of which Grey had not yet proven to be—but he’d also managed to exhaust his father’s seemingly unending patience in regards to his presence. Thus, he’d been kindly, lovingly exiled from his father’s company.

“I thought you wanted me around?” Harry teased as he gathered his required books for the day and pulled on his robes.

“I always want you around. I want nothing more than to be reminded that you are a constant joy in my life,” Severus replied, buttoning up his own robes as he met Harry’s raised eyebrow. “However, sometimes I am content to have such a reminder from a distance.”

Harry grinned at him. “You can just say I’m annoying you and you want some time alone.”

Severus came over to him and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, gazing into his eyes. Harry’s lips twitched as he held back his amusement, waiting for his father’s follow-up.

“Harry, you are annoying me and I want some time alone.”

Harry burst into laughter at the man’s dramatically serious tone and pushed through Severus’ loose grip to give the man a hug. “Love you too, Dad.”

Severus chuckled lightly below him and returned the hug before stepping back to finish buttoning his robe. “Go, menace. Have a good day. Do not antagonize Grey.”

“What if he antagonizes me?” Harry asked, pulling his bag onto his shoulder.

“You know exactly what to do and I’d better not hear a word of you doing otherwise.” Severus pinned him with a stern look. “Understood?”

Harry held back a slightly irritable sigh and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Severus gave a short nod of his own and spun Harry around, guiding him to the door. “Off to class now. I will see you at dinner.”

“Try not to make anyone cry,” Harry said cheekily as he slowly opened the door.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “If you stay out of trouble.”

“Ah, bugger,” Harry lamented dramatically. “Well, hope you’ve got tissues handy for the poor sods.”

Severus rolled his eyes and swatted at Harry who ducked, laughing. “Class, brat!”

“Bye, Dad!”

Still laughing, Harry left his father’s rooms and jogged through the castle, heading for History of Magic, having had breakfast already with Severus. Walking into the classroom, he found Ron, Hermione, Draco, Seamus, Dean, and Neville already there and quickly joined them.

“Harry!” Neville exclaimed once he noticed Harry’s entrance.

“Where have you been?” Hermione asked as Harry walked over to them, taking his seat around which they were all gathered. “We haven’t seen you since Saturday.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry answered. “Something happened on Halloween.”

Concern immediately filled his friends’ faces.

“Is everything alright?” Dean wondered.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Harry admitted and, glancing at the door to check for new arrivals, he proceeded to explain what he, his father, and godfathers had seen Halloween night in the glade. By the end of the story, his friends were gaping at him.

“Are you saying Lily and James Potter are alive?” Draco said, dumbfounded.

“We don’t actually know for sure, but it seems like it,” Harry told them with a shrug, trying to remain calm and casual about the whole thing despite feeling anything but calm and casual.

“How is that even possible?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“Kingsley thinks—”

Harry didn’t get to explain Kingsley’s theory as the classroom door opened and students poured into the room. With a promise to finish explaining later, they all scattered to their seats and settled in for yet another lecture on troll wars…or goblin rebellions…honestly, Harry wasn’t sure. Regardless, it was long and dull and droning, the usual for Binns, and Harry sketched mindlessly as he fought to keep his attention on the lecture rather than anything from the last seventy-two hours.

When the period finally ended, Harry couldn’t escape with his friends fast enough, all of them heading for Defence. As they neared the classroom, Harry gestured for his friends to step to the side before they entered.

“I’ll explain more later, but there is one thing you need to know,” Harry whispered. “Grey is not Grey. He’s Elias Moreshire and he’s involved in all of this with my parents.”

All of their eyes widened and darted to Grey as the man appeared through the crowding students, opening the classroom door. Harry kept his face blank as Grey glared at all of them, eventually meeting Harry’s eyes at which point they narrowed.

“Inside,” Grey ordered and everyone herded into the classroom.

Harry sat stiffly next to Draco, watching Grey closely. He couldn’t help but be wary, uncertain what Grey’s ultimate goal was. The situation was far too much like the previous year with fake Moody. Glancing at his friends, he saw the same wariness.

“A couple of things before we begin today’s lesson,” Grey said, waving his wand. A small stack of parchment settled on his desk and a piece of chalk began scribbling across the board. “First, beginning next Monday, we will be starting our duelling competition.”

There were a few quiet mutters in response, but everyone’s attention was on the board. Harry—and everyone else—frowned as the list of names grew and his gaze flew to Grey as the final two names were scrawled.

Lord Voldemort and Severus Snape.

“Second is your next assignment,” Grey continued. “We have spent the last two months understanding what qualifies something or someone as Dark. In magic, sometimes it is how it is used and in other cases, the mere concept is what is Dark. People are far more complex. How do you determine if someone simply made a mistake, if someone acted with good intentions but went about it all wrong, or if someone is irredeemably Dark? Is it the things they say or do, the magic they use, the company they keep, the ideas they have?”

Harry swallowed thickly, grinding his teeth and sharing a glance with Draco as Grey’s eyes slid over them very purposefully.

“This is your task,” Grey told them and waved his wand again. The parchment began to distribute itself to the class and, as it did, the names on the board peeled off, floating on the air to affix themselves to the parchment randomly. “Each of you have been assigned a witch or wizard that has been qualified as Dark. You are to research them, discover what they did to earn the title, and determine if it is an appropriate designation for the things they did or were involved in.”

Harry let his eyes fall to the parchment that had settled in front of him and ground his teeth even harder.

Lord Voldemort

“Um, Professor?” Lavender said, sounding hesitant. “There’s still a name on the board.”

Harry looked at the board again, finding Severus’ name was still written there. He fought not to glare at Grey, knowing exactly what Grey was attempting to imply by including Severus’ name amongst those of historically Dark wizardkind.

“So there is,” Grey said lightly, falsely innocent. “My mistake. I must have miscounted.”

Harry couldn’t help the narrowing of his eyes when Grey looked directly at him before erasing the name. There were more murmurs among the students and Harry spotted the small smirk Grey was unable to conceal for a split second. Harry became convinced dealing with Grey was going to be far worse than fake Moody; at least they’d known what that imposter wanted.

What did Grey want?

It was an uncomfortable period between the rage, fear, and confusion, and the racing of Harry’s mind as he attempted to unravel Grey’s agenda. The fact that Lily and James could somehow be involved made theorizing all the more difficult.

Just like with History of Magic, Harry hurried out of the room with his friends at the end of the period. They all huddled up to the side, hissing their conversation as students passed by.

“This is just sick!” Ron said, shaking his parchment with his assigned Dark witch or wizard. “He can’t be serious about this.”

“He is,” Harry replied. “He’s trying to find out what happened on Halloween, how I survived.”

“Why would he care?” Neville asked.

“Because he was involved,” Harry said and they all looked at him in confusion.

“How?” Dean asked.

They all immediately fell silent as Grey exited the classroom. He stared hard at Harry who stared back, their eyes locked for several seconds before Grey finally continued on his way.

“Come on,” Harry muttered, watching Grey walk away. “Let’s talk outside.”

They made their way onto the grounds, Luna joining them, and they arranged themselves around the huge oak by the lake, wrapping cloaks and scarves around them to protect against the weather that was quickly becoming wintery. Draco, Luna, and Neville sat against the tree while Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus stood, aimlessly tossing Dean’s Muggle baseball between them.

“Come on then, mate,” Ron said, catching the ball as Dean tossed it to him. “Tell us what’s going on.”

“Most of it is still just theories,” Harry warned.

“But Lily and James are alive?” Neville said.

“And Grey’s involved?” Seamus added, tossing the ball to Hermione.

“Except he’s not Grey?” Draco followed up.

“How is any of that possible?” Ron asked, catching the ball.

Harry sighed, catching Hermione’s toss and throwing it to Seamus. “Kingsley thinks they took prisoners from Azkaban, killed them, and charmed the bodies to look like them. Grey helped them stage Godric’s Hollow and the Unspeakable helped forge documents.”

“He thinks your parents willingly murdered two people?” Neville said, clearly skeptical.

Harry nodded reluctantly.

“But how is Grey actually Moreshire?” Hermione asked, confused.

“He masked his signature with a new one,” Harry said, shrugging slightly. He hadn’t fully understood the whole signature conversation.

“Absolutely mad is what that is,” Seamus said, shaking his head and throwing the ball to Hermione.

“But if he was involved, why does he want to know what happened on Halloween?” Neville asked.

“They expected you to die,” Luna interjected.

Harry’s heart stung at the vocalization of the horrible theory and threw the ball to Ron with a little more force than he intended. He gave Ron a look of apology.

“But why would they think that?” Dean asked, frowning. “Sure, if they thought You-Know-Who would attack, but how did they know he would? They were in hiding.”

“What if they somehow arranged the attack?” Draco suggested and Harry frowned at the implication.

“How would they have done that?” Seamus asked, tossing the ball to Harry who stared blankly at it for a moment as he followed the theory, heart breaking.

“Pettigrew,” he said, throwing the ball to Dean with a heavy sigh.

“How do you figure?” Ron wondered. “Sirius said he convinced them to switch Secret Keepers, that none of them knew Pettigrew was a Death Eater.”

“Or that’s what they wanted Sirius to think, to think it was his idea,” Hermione guessed.

“A year-long plan?” Neville said and Harry looked at his friends, pained, and seeing their sympathy. “But why? Why would they do any of it?”

There was a moment of contemplative silence.

“Could they have known more of the prophecy than everyone thought?” Draco asked quietly as though hesitant to voice the possibility.

“Dumbledore’s the one that told them about the prophecy and he only told him the first part, just what they needed to know I was in danger,” Harry said. “Only those a prophecy is about can hear it.”

“Actually, Dad’s found out that’s not exactly true,” Draco argued. “If someone is touching the subject of a prophecy when they touch the prophecy, they can all hear the prophecy.”

“The Unspeakable could have let them into the department,” Ron added, continuing with Draco’s theory. “They could have brought you.”

Harry’s face crumpled into a distressed frown. Had his own parents set him up to die because of the prophecy? Had they willingly sacrificed him to get rid of Voldemort?

“Look.”

Harry turned at Seamus’ voice, finding all of his friends facing the direction of the Forbidden Forest. His frown deepened as they watched Grey cross the grounds and disappear into the forest.

“Strange time to be visiting the forest,” Ron mused aloud and Harry looked back at all of his friends, tense.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, huddling into his cloak against the wind as he sat back to recline against the stand seats behind him. He gazed up at the dimming sky, spotting the couple of stars appearing early in the evening. He smiled to himself as a memory drifted through his mind, finally one not full of pain like those the past few days, hell, the past few weeks had been dragging up.

It had been his eleventh birthday and he’d told Severus about his yearly tradition of staying awake until midnight to wish himself ‘happy birthday’ and make his usual wish of finding his family somehow. Severus had decided to continue Harry’s tradition and participate. Having Severus in Privet Drive meant that, for the first time, Harry was not trapped in his cupboard on his birthday and Severus brought them outside instead. In the backyard, Severus had them lay in the grass and gaze up at the stars. As they counted down the minutes to midnight, Severus pointed out constellations and stars, delving into their stories and meanings as he identified Leo the lion and Sirius the dog star. Then, midnight had come.

“You will never spend another birthday here,” Severus had said.

Harry had looked at him, not understanding, and Severus had shown him the petition for adoption. Harry had sat up quickly, snatching the paper to scan almost aggressively.

Severus had sat up next to him and murmured, “I will give you everything.”

Harry had launched himself at Severus, knocking the man back to the ground, laughing as he hugged Harry close. They’d spent the night outside, holding onto each other even after Harry had already fallen asleep. Severus had kept his word and Harry hadn’t spent a single birthday or any other celebration in Privet Drive since, and Severus had given him everything he could ever want: love and a home.

Severus had become his everything yet the man had no idea. It was so easy for Severus to believe Harry would choose someone over him because he didn’t know he was so much more than just Harry’s adoptive father. He wished he could make Severus see that, believe he wasn’t so easily abandoned. He wished he could make Severus believe that he meant more to Harry than anyone else ever could, that no one could replace Severus…not even Lily and James.

How could he make Severus understand that he didn’t want things to change? Not anymore.

“Hey.”

Harry turned to watch Draco settle on the seat next to him, pulling up his collar to protect against the evening, beginning-of-winter wind. Draco leaned back to mirror Harry, putting his hands in his trouser pockets and gazing up at the sky, dotted with even more stars now. They sat together in comfortable silence for some time.

“Dad’s afraid I’ll be taken away from him,” Harry said eventually. “If it is Lily and James.”

“Normally, I’d say it’s impossible, especially since you did a blood adoption,” Draco replied, “but no one’s ever had parents come back from the dead either.”

Harry sighed sadly, filled with confusion and conflict.

“Do you want it to be them?” Draco asked.

“No,” Harry admitted. “I stopped wanting the life I could have had with them a long time ago. I have what I want. I have Kingsley and Remus and Sirius. I have Dad.”

“Have you told Severus that?”

Harry nodded. “I can tell he doesn’t believe me though. He thinks I’ll choose them.”

“You can’t blame him for thinking that. They are your parents.”

“Parents that might have left me to die. Parents that might have abandoned me,” Harry said sharply, always hurt and angry at the mere idea his own parents had left him behind. “Would you choose your mum over your dad if she came back?”

“It’s not really the same thing,” Draco protested weakly, sighing when Harry looked at him. “No, probably not. He stayed, she didn’t.”

“Exactly. Severus is the one that’s been here,” Harry said. “Nothing should have kept them from coming back for me, not if I’m meant to believe they loved me. Nothing would keep Lucius from you and nothing would keep Dad from me. How could I ever choose them over that?”

“He’s afraid to lose you,” Draco replied. “With Voldemort and the prophecy and the horcrux already an issue, this is just another way he could lose you without him being able to do anything to prevent it.”

“Yeah, about that.” Harry blew out a deep breath and sat up so he was no longer reclining, leaning on his knees instead. “Turns out, the horcrux is killing me.”

“What?”

“It’s trying to grow stronger so it’s absorbing my magic,” Harry told him. “Dumbledore wouldn’t say it explicitly, but I know he knows the horcrux will eventually drain all my magic and I’ll die.”

“Harry…”

“I can find the other horcruxes. I just have to do it before mine kills me.”

“You’re not going to die,” Draco said firmly. “No one is going to let that happen.”

“Everyone has been looking for a way to destroy it for over two years now,” Harry pointed out. “There is no way.”

“Hey.” Draco bumped his shoulder and Harry turned to look at him, seeing the stern sadness if his friend’s eyes. “You don’t get to give up. You don’t get to leave us, leave Severus. If you won’t let Lily and James take you from him, you don’t get to let Voldemort take you either.”

“I can’t fight against something that’s a part of me,” Harry argued.

“You don’t have a choice,” Draco said, shaking his head. “You don’t get to do that to us, to Severus. You are everything to him. We lose you, we lose him.”

Harry gazed at him, heart aching.

“You said you’ve found what you want,” Draco continued. “Don’t let anyone or anything take that away.”

Harry turned back to the sky, remembering laying under the stars with Severus again and leaning against Draco.

He wanted to be under the stars, not amongst them.

He wanted to lay under the stars with his father again…

And he would.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

“So, you think because you can see the creation of the horcruxes, you’ll be able to see more of Halloween?” Draco asked as they settled themselves on the cushions on the floor of the den-like room the Room of Requirement had given them.

“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Harry said, crossing his legs to be more comfortable. “I’m a horcrux so, theoretically, I should be able to see how it—I—was created. I shouldn’t be stuck with the little memory I have because the horcrux has its own memory.”

“Didn’t you tell Severus you wouldn’t do any horcrux hunting on your own?” Draco said, arching an eyebrow.

“One, I’m not alone, you’re here, and two, I’m not hunting. We know exactly where this horcrux is and I’m just trying to see its memory,” Harry justified and Draco rolled his eyes.

“There is not a single person that will accept either of those as good excuses,” Draco told him. “Harry, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“I’m not really doing anything. I’m just meditating,” Harry replied with a small shrug.

“No, you are meditating to find memories that aren’t yours, memories that belong to a thing that you know is killing you,” Draco argued.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry said dismissively. “You’re here if anything goes wrong.”

Draco scowled at him. “If by some miracle no one kills you for this, I will. This is stupid and you know it is.”

Harry rolled his own eyes before letting them close and beginning the rhythmic breathing Severus had taught him for meditative Occlumency. His body grew heavy as he drifted into his mind, then to his subconscious, then to his unconscious. He was deep within himself; he could feel it.

Keeping his breathing even, he began to think about Halloween of 1981 while pulling at his magic to drift around, ready and accessible. For some time, he only felt his magic swimming around lazily and heard the distant echoes of what he remembered from that night in his unconscious. When nothing else happened, he decided to move back to his subconscious, thinking that now that the horcrux was active, its memories could exist alongside his; it wasn’t lurking in the recesses anymore.

So, in his subconscious, he reached for the memory of Halloween again and let his magic float around. Again, for what seemed like a long time, nothing happened except he watched his memory over and over, hearing Voldemort shout, “Avada Kedavra!” and cackle before screaming as the green light blinded him. It was all he’d ever been able to remember. He saw it happen again and again and again and…

Then, something changed.

Something began tugging at his magic, pulling it in all directions. As it stretched, it felt as though it was wrapped around him and tightening with every tug, restricting the expansion of his lungs ever so slightly. Despite the gradual restriction, it didn’t take long for his chest to begin burning, but he pushed through it to focus on the way his memory was flickering. As the green light of the Killing Curse consumed his memory once more, the scene faded away before it returned…different.

Instead of starting with the casting of the curse, it started with a door opening. The house was dark, the only sound a muffled crying. Moving through the house, James Potter was spotted on the floor, eyes empty as they stared up at the ceiling. The man was already dead.

The scene continued up the stairs, the sobbing and whimpering growing louder. The door to the nursery opened, revealing the scene behind. Like James, Lily Potter was sprawled on the floor before the crib already dead. One-year-old Harry was in the crib, crying loudly.

“Cowards,” came the disgusted voice of Voldemort. “This is the way it must be, dear Harry. It is for the best. I must live and you will never know what they did to you.”

Harry gasped for air as his heart pounded painfully as he listened.

“You will never know the life of abandonment, never know the feeling of never feeling loved. You will not live my life.”

The memory began to flicker.

“I will be what they’ve made me. Goodbye, dear Harry,” Voldemort said and raised his wand to baby Harry. “Avada Kedavra!”

As in his own memory, the green light engulfed everything only, through it, Harry could see something else happening. He couldn’t make it out, however, and the memory faded as his magic began crashing over and around him in harsh waves. Pain hit him with every wave and he fought desperately to breathe. A dark mist surrounded him, taking place of the memory. As it swirled, vague shapes and colours drifted in and out of view: the Gaunt family crest, shimmering green scales, a glittering blue gem in a teardrop shape, a flash of a partial golden disk, a silver chain…

He left his mind and was back in the Room of Requirement where he found he was able to breathe again, but he was also seizing from the magic and pain wracking his body. His writhing didn’t last more than a minute, leaving him exhausted on the floor and Draco hurrying to his side, looking worried.

“I’m okay,” Harry muttered.

“Not sure I’d go that far,” Draco countered, using the bottom of his robe to wipe at Harry’s forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

Harry sighed and pushed Draco away, struggling to sit up. “I saw it. I saw what Voldemort saw.”

“And?”

“They were already dead before he got there,” Harry told him. “Voldemort didn’t kill them. They didn’t…they didn’t die for me. They didn’t die at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco murmured sympathetically and Harry ran a hand through his hair, distressed. “Did you see anything else?”

“I think I saw the horcruxes. Mine used my magic to be strong enough to show its memory and then I think it reached for the others, gave them some of my magic which let me see them at least a little.” Harry massaged his forehead with a wince at the residual ache.

“You should tell Severus,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head. “There’s no reason he needs to know.”

“Harry, you were bleeding and seizing,” Draco argued. “You helped the horcrux take more of your magic than it already was and strengthen its connection to the others. We have no idea what that could do to you.”

Harry gave Draco a small glare. “You can’t tell him.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

Harry spun around at Severus’ voice and groaned at the angry, disapproving look on the man’s face. He glanced at Draco who looked back at him sympathetically again and they both climbed to their feet. When Harry stumbled a couple steps upon standing, he saw the way Severus’ eyes became glued to him and narrowed with concern. Side by side with Draco, they walked from the Room of Requirement, Severus following close behind.

“To the Great Hall, Draco,” Severus ordered once they were in the corridor. “Harry, come with me.”

Sharing another look, Draco walked away down one corridor while Harry was guided down another. They were silent as they headed to the dungeons, the silence heavy. It seemed all of their silences were heavy lately, fraught with everything just waiting to destroy them. Not that his life had ever been simple, but Severus had made it seem that way and Harry desperately wanted to go back to those days.

Severus held the door open to his quarters, letting Harry enter before him. Harry expected the lecture to begin immediately, but was both surprised and confused when his father walked around him to the lavatory. The man wasn’t in there long, returning in seconds with a vial and a cloth. Harry sighed, taking the Headache Reliever and just accepting the damp cloth wiping across his forehead and down the side of his nose. The silence continued through the ministrations, making Harry’s discomfort steadily increase though with what underlying emotion, he wasn’t sure. Regardless of his bubbling emotions, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling ever so slightly when Severus gently swiped a thumb across his cheek, catching a drop of water from the cloth.

“Now,” Severus began, banishing the cloth, and Harry held back another sigh. “I seem to recall you agreeing to do nothing intentionally regarding the horcruxes on your own.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Harry pointed out and Severus’ eyes narrowed at him.

“You do not get to act dumb and pretend Draco is adequate support or what I meant.”

Harry fought not to roll his eyes. “Why isn’t he? He’s my best friend, he knows more about at least Dark Magic than any of my other friends, and he would never let anything happen to me.”

“Only to the extent there is anything he can do!” Severus argued, his voice rising. “He cannot help you with a horcrux!”

“And you can?” Harry snapped, the unknown underlying emotion making itself known. Severus looked at him, clearly taken aback. “Face it, Dad, you wouldn’t be able to do anything more than Draco could. This thing is killing me no matter what and no one can do anything about it.”

“That does not mean you get to play with your life!”

“Everyone else has!” Harry shouted, stunned to feel tears burning his eyes. “My life has been nothing but a goddamn game to everyone! Everyone’s decided what I do, where I go, who I am, what I am, when I die! If I’m nothing but a bloody game piece, I want to choose my moves!”

Harry stared hard at Severus, the man saying nothing, but his eyes shining with emotion. Harry suddenly felt exhausted and turned away from his father, walking over to fall heavily on the sofa. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned on his knees, staring at his clasped hands. A few moments later, the sofa dipped as Severus sat next to him.

“I should have realized how much this has all been affecting you,” Severus said, all traces of anger replaced with regret.

Harry turned to him. “Don’t do that. It’s affected you too.”

“You are who I should be taking care of.”

“You do,” Harry insisted. “Dad, you have to take care of yourself too and, honestly, I didn’t think it was all affecting me that much. You already worry so much, you shouldn’t have to about this too.”

“Regardless, I should have realized you needed more from me,” Severus said.

Harry smiled. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to give me more.”

Severus brushed back his hair and tugged him closer to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Talk to me. How are you feeling about everything?”

“I’m not really sure,” Harry said honestly. “Nothing and everything all at once. It’s all been a bit much to even really understand.”

Severus looked at him sympathetically.

“It’s partly why I wanted—needed—to try and see,” Harry told him. “I needed to know.”

“What did you see?” Severus asked gently.

Harry felt his eyes sting again. “It didn’t prove all of Kingsley’s theory, but enough. They were already dead before Voldemort got there. They didn’t die for me. They didn’t die at all.”

Severus didn’t respond. He just wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and he was tugged to his father’s side. He ended up resting against Severus’ chest as they leaned back into the sofa.

“Draco thinks they knew the whole prophecy and they set it all up. They set me up to die,” Harry mumbled into Severus’ chest. “I didn’t mean anything to them.”

Severus’ arms tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer. “We will find out the truth and no matter what we find, always know that you mean everything to me.”

And he did know. He knew this man who had chosen him would do everything they were supposed to do.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Harry looked up, finding Kingsley closing the door behind him as he slipped into the quarters. Harry sat up from Severus’ chest as Kingsley sat in the adjacent chair though he remained pressed to his father’s side, Severus’ arm still draped down his back and side.

“Anything to drink?” Severus offered.

“After this, probably,” Kingsley replied gravely, pulling a folder and a large, black, leather bound book from inside his cloak.

“You found something,” Severus said bluntly and Kingsley nodded, holding out the folder. Severus took it and opened it in his lap with his right hand, keeping his left around Harry. “Marina Ariadne’s file.”

“Turns out, she’s dead and her file was buried,” Kingsley told them.

“Dead?” Severus repeated. “What happened?”

“The ‘official’ report says K.I.A,” Kingsley said, tone dripping with knowing skepticism.

Harry glanced at Severus, seeing the raised eyebrow that matched his godfather’s tone.

“She was an Unspeakable. What action would she have seen in nineteen eighty-one?” Severus questioned, reading from the file. “December thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one?”

“The day before Ethan Grey left the Ministry and two weeks after the Potter investigation officially closed,” Kingsley said, confirming the question that wasn’t asked. “The real report was hidden in there beneath layers of enchantments. It says her body was found in the Department of Mysteries. Killing Curse. There was a letter in her pocket. Unfortunately, it seems to have been destroyed and no copies were made, but there are indications it may have been a confession.”

“Why would she confess?” Severus asked. “They all got away with it.”

“Guilt, I would assume,” Kingsley said. “Also this.” He handed the black book to Severus.

“A sign-in ledger?” Severus inquired as he opened the cover.

“For Mysteries,” Kingsley said. “It magically records every person that enters the department by their magical signature. Turn to page eight hundred twenty-six.”

Severus did so and Harry leaned forward to see what his godfather wanted them to see. He scanned the dozens of names and dates, trying to find any of significance. As he did, he noticed the right page looked different. While the other pages were parchment coloured, the right page was grey and had what looked like smears of ash. It almost looked like someone had tried to burn the page, but only smoke and ash had touched it.

Then he saw the entry and his heart constricted painfully while Severus’ arm tensed around him.

31-10-1980 - - James Potter, Lily Evans, Harry Potter - - Unspeakable Escort: Marina Ariadne

“Draco was right,” Harry muttered aloud without realizing.

“What was that, kid?” Kingsley asked.

“Just…the other day, we were all talking, wondering why my parents would’ve…if it was true…why they…” Harry trailed off, unable to voice it again. “Draco said maybe they’d brought me to the Ministry and they heard the whole prophecy so they decided to…”

Severus squeezed him, holding him close, trying to offer any kind of consolation.

Kingsley sighed. “Seems that’s what happened. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know why she helped with the setup or cover-up. There’s records in her file that show what she helped with, primarily access to the prophecy, but Unspeakables’ wands are also scanned every month and there are records showing that her wand cast spells related to signature manipulation and forgery. Someone also obviously tried to destroy that page, but the ledger is charmed to be indestructible. My guess is Grey found out she was going to confess and he killed her before taking off. After the Ministry, there are absolutely no records on Ethan Grey or Elias Moreshire in Britain until Grey comes to Hogwarts.”

Harry found himself unable to hear anymore. He pushed away from his father, jumped to his feet, and hurried to his room. Slamming the door behind him despite knowing Severus hated door slamming, Harry stood in the centre of his room, trying to control his quickening breathing and dampening eyes. Everything was spinning out of control and pressure was building in his chest. His teary, blurry eyes darted around wildly.

It was a lie.

It had all been a lie.

Everything was a lie.

His entire life was a damn lie.

Harry’s hands slid into his hair, gripped tight, and he let out a piercing, anguished scream. Tears poured hot down his cheeks. His throat stung from the strain. His heart throbbed as it struggled against the painful squeezing.

“Harry?”

He turned around at the voice, hands dropping from his hair, and found Severus watching him with deep worry.

“They left me,” Harry whispered. “They left me.”

Severus walked towards him slowly, looking as pained as Harry felt.

“They…they chose to…” Harry choked on the words.

“Harry.” Severus reached out to him carefully as though afraid to startle him.

“They left me,” Harry repeated, finding his voice rising with the agony. “They left me.”

“I know,” Severus said quietly, still reaching for him.

Harry started to shake his head, needing to deny the truth even as he spoke it. “They…left…me.”

“Harry…”

Severus’ fingers brushing his arm broke the thin, tenuous thread that had been the last holding to his fragile control. He exploded, hitting his fists hard against his father’s chest as tears poured from his eyes and sobs from his mouth as he screamed.

“They left me to die! They left me to die! They left me to die!”

Severus’ hands came to wrap around his forearms, but he did nothing to stop Harry’s assault.

“I know.”

“I…I was their son! I was a baby! I was their baby and they left me to die!” Harry cried, his hits slowing as his sobs grew harder.

“I know.”

Harry’s fists landed against Severus’ chest again, but, this time, they didn’t leave. Instead, he grasped handfuls of Severus’ shirt and let his forehead fall against his father’s chest. Severus’ arm wrapped around him, pulling him into the warmth and comfort and safety that the man had come to be since he was ten…after a life without…because his parents had…

“Everything was a lie,” Harry whispered despairingly into Severus’ chest. “Nothing was real. Nothing…none of it was real.”

“This is real,” Severus murmured back. “You are my son and I love you. That is real.”

Harry couldn’t say anything else as his world shattered around him. He just sobbed into his father’s chest as the man held him tightly, an arm around his shoulders and a hand resting on the back of his head while lips were pressed to his hair, murmuring to him in a desperate attempt to comfort him.

The wind whistled as it blew across the windows, the precursor to a coming winter storm. In his bed concealed by the red drapes, Harry sat propped against his pillows with a sketchbook against his legs, the Marauder’s Map hovering in front of him, and a small orb of blue light floating next to him. He listened to the harsh wind as he sketched, eyes periodically flicking to the map to track the nametag that was constantly fading and flickering between two names.

He sighed as the Grey-Moreshire name repeated its pacing path in the man’s private quarters and turned back to his sketches. He hadn’t seen much of the other horcruxes that day in the Room of Requirement, but he’d been unable to stop thinking about what he did see. So, to distract himself from the suffocating despair he’d felt for the last two weeks, he’d begun to sketch the little he’d seen.

There had been no further progress on the Potter-Halloween mystery or, if there had, he hadn’t listened. He hadn’t wanted to know anything more. Knowing his own parents had likely left him to die was enough. He’d chosen to, instead, pretend he knew nothing and focused on school and the horcruxes, having had the dream about the ring horcrux a couple more times and Dumbledore telling his father and godfathers that he was arranging an Order mission to Little Hangleton. It had been a long evening conversation with his father and godfathers over the fact that Dumbledore wanted Harry to join the mission as it was believed Harry would be able to sense and find the horcrux.

Harry added definition to the partial golden disk he’d seen, glancing at the map again only to freeze in sketching as he found Grey on the move. He watched the footprints with its flag move through the castle, heading quickly down from the Defence tower to the Clock Tower Courtyard. Harry sat up fully, pushing his sketchbook off his lap and staring at Grey’s moving name. it was strange for Grey to be going outside considering it was two a.m.

When Grey exited the courtyard and crossed the grounds with the Forbidden Forest his clear destination, Harry frowned as he contemplated what to do. He knew the rules he’d be breaking, the danger he could be in, the trouble he’d face when Severus found out—because, yes, there was no ‘if’; it was guaranteed his father would know—but he felt the need to follow Grey. He’d taken some time to ignore the disintegration of everything he’d thought he knew, but seeing Grey going to the forest again reignited his need to know. Grey was involved and he needed to know how, he needed to know why. And, if he was honest, it wasn’t just for him. He needed to know for Remus, for Sirius, for Severus. He needed to know for his family because he couldn’t watch the torment they were in anymore.

If he caught Grey in the middle of something, maybe he could make the man confess.

Sending a silent apology to his father, Harry grabbed the map and his wand and climbed quietly out of bed. The rest of the dorm was asleep and he moved as quietly as possible to slip on his shoes and pull his invisibility cloak from his trunk before tiptoeing from the dorm. Throwing the cloak over himself, he left the common room and hurried through the castle, eyes glued to Grey’s name making its way through the forest.

Stepping outside, Harry had to grasp the cloak to keep it around him and his fingers tightened on the map as the wintery wind whipped around him. He jogged the same path Grey had taken and entered the Forbidden Forest for the seemingly umpteenth time in the last four years. Grey’s name had stopped moving and was with two other sets of footprints, except they had no name tags.

Frowning and his heart pounding, Harry headed directly for the triad of footprints, ducking branches and stepping over roots as wind howled through the trees around him. When he was just steps from the others, he stopped and looked up at the tree branches blocking the way. Through the deafening wind, Harry was just able to make out muffled voices. He stepped closer until they were clearer, hearing a single word that made him step through the tree branches.

“…horcrux…”

Harry burst through the trees and pulled off the cloak, heart beating painfully as he stared at the surprised and angry faces of Grey, Lily, and James as they turned to gaze at him just as snow began to fall.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Just like on Halloween, Harry was frozen, staring at Lily and James in disbelief. He didn’t realize how cold he was becoming from the wind that was whipping Lily’s fiery hair around. He didn’t realize the icy snow that was building on Grey’s shoulders and turning James’ black hair white was doing the same to him. He didn’t notice his shivering or the numbing. He didn’t even notice the dull, but sharp pulling pain that had started in his chest. He couldn’t look away from them, especially not as the longer he stared, the more he realized.

It was them.

On Halloween, he’d been convinced it was a trick, some great lie, but now, after everything he’d learned and being so close to them, he knew…

“It’s really you,” he mumbled, something just as cold as the growing Scottish storm settling heavily in his chest at the quiet words, making him just barely aware of the pain that already existed there, pain that had nothing to do with the horrible realization and feelings of absolute betrayal.

“Of course it’s us, son,” James said as though Harry’s comment was absurd and Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sure you get to call me that,” Harry said bitterly. “Especially considering you’re supposed to be dead, yet here you are.”

There was a flash of something in James’ eyes as Lily put a hand on his arm and took a step towards Harry who tensed, twitching towards grabbing his wand and holding back a wince as the pain in his chest pulsed briefly, pulling hard at something inside him.

“We can explain, darling,” Lily said placatingly.

Harry glared at the endearment and loving tone that didn’t match her oddly hard eyes that mirrored James’. “Can you?” he challenged.

“Harry—”

“No!” Harry interrupted Lily sharply. “How can you possibly explain how you could abandon me? How can you possibly explain how you could never come back until now after fourteen years?”

“You were supposed to die,” James said simply and Harry stared with eyes wide in astonishment.

“And you were okay with that?” he snapped, outraged. “I know you knew about the prophecy. Tell me why.”

“We were trying to save lives,” Lily told him.

“By sacrificing mine?” Harry shouted, heart searing with pain and the pulling in his chest growing stronger. He fought to hide the trembling he could tell was starting in his limbs from the siphoning sensation, weakness spreading steadily throughout his body. “I was your son!”

“You don’t know what it was like, boy,” James growled.

Harry flinched at the word, his magic now becoming a dull pressure in his chest alongside the pain, and, as it did, he realized what the pulling sensation was. His horcrux was drawing on his magic, but so was something else. There was another horcrux somewhere.

“Allies turning around and betraying you, friends going missing, family being massacred. Ever wonder why you have no grandparents?” James snarled. “Nearly everyone we knew was dead within a year. So we did what we had to to stop him.”

“By leaving me to die.”

“Except you didn’t, did you?” Grey jumped in angrily. “He’s alive and so are you!”

Harry glowered at him. “Why do you even care? Why did you help them?”

“A tiny semblance of revenge,” Grey replied. “After how those three bastards butchered my sister, I wanted nothing more than to kill every Death Eater myself. Couldn’t do that, but I could at least get rid of those Lestrange monsters. You were supposed to take care of the rest, but no. You’re here and cozy with one of the sick and twisted sons of bitches.”

“Snivellus of all people,” James sneered.

Harry’s magic crackled inside him in rage, the siphoning by horcruxes getting stronger as his magic became wild. “You don’t get an opinion. You abandoned me.”

“For nothing, clearly,” James scoffed. “And it’s Snape!”

“Again, you don’t get an opinion! You sent Sirius to Azkaban!” Harry shouted.

“Actually, that,” James said lightly with a hint of a chuckle, “that was just a convenient accident.”

Harry gaped in disbelief. “He was your best friend!”

James’ expression turned into one of disgust. “You think I’d be friends with pathetic freaks like them? I’m a Potter. We don’t associate with dark blood like that. Consider them more pet projects, literally in Lupin’s case.”

Harry’s eyes bore into James as the man smirked, his magic and the pull of horcruxes beginning to make his hands noticeably shake.

“What can I say?” James shrugged. “They might not be worth much, but I got some use out of them. Couldn’t have become an Animagus without Black, for example. I like to play with strays. They’re amusing…until they’re not. Bet you know what that’s like.”

Harry’s heart broke for his family even as his magic continued spiralling harder and harder. The horcruxes were pulling at his wild magic so sharply it felt as though he was being shredded inside as they sucked as much power as they could and, between the clear threat of magical depletion and the horcruxes’ draw, he was quickly losing strength.

“Then why come back?” Harry asked. “You’d gotten away with it and if we’re all so useless…”

“Because you’re useless,” Grey snapped and Harry shot him a dirty look.

“We’re trying to fix things,” Lily said, bringing Harry’s attention back to her. “We learned about what Voldemort had done in Albania.”

Albania?

“We needed to know if there were more,” Lily added.

Understanding dawned on Harry.

“You found out about the horcruxes,” he said, filling with dread. He knew there was another horcrux somewhere, but he hadn’t considered they had one with them. They had found a horcrux and it was there with them.

“And so did you and Dumbledore and that freak family of yours,” Grey said, stalking towards Harry and making him glare at the man again. “You-Know-Who being alive confirmed he’d made one so we decided to see what you knew only for me to find a diary in Dumbledore’s office. Even destroyed, it holds remnants of the magic that once possessed it.”

Harry flicked his wand into his hand just as Grey rushed forward and fisted the front of his shirt, bringing them face to face.

“How many are there?” Grey snarled, shaking him. “Where are they? How did you survive?”

“I don’t know,” Harry ground out.

Grey growled. “What’s so goddamn special about you that he let you live?”

“He didn’t let me,” Harry shot back.

“Then how did you survive?” Grey snapped, voice rising and eyes flashing angrily.

“I don’t know!” Harry lied, coughing lightly as Grey’s fist tightened in his shirt, making it tighten and restrict around his throat.

“You’re lying!” Grey shouted.

“Elias,” Lily interrupted and Harry’s eyes flickered to her over Grey’s shoulder temporarily.

Grey glanced at her before growling again and releasing Harry, shoving him away. Harry stumbled and fell to the ground, snow immediately soaking into his pajama pants and freezing his hands. He looked up to glare at Grey and his parents.

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“We did what we had to, for the greater good,” Lily replied. “We were just doing what Albus had always told us to do.”

“This isn’t what he meant,” Harry argued.

“We let our son die that night, but it was apparently for nothing,” James added.

Harry clenched his teeth. “I’m not dead.”

“You’re worse,” James retorted sharply. “You’re broken.”

Harry knew his angry expression had to have flashed with hurt in that moment even as his magic continued swirling out of control, electrifying the air around him, and his body grew weaker and weaker, trembling.

“We’ll do whatever it takes to finally put an end to Voldemort,” Lily said. “We’ll find a way to do what you couldn’t.”

“So much for your prophecy,” James sneered.

Harry looked between them, trying to see the people he’d seen in his pictures for the last few years. He tried to see the people Sirius, Remus, and Severus had told him about. He tried to see the people he used to dream about.

“Did you ever want me?” Harry asked, a quiet desperation in his voice. “Or love me?”

“When you were something special,” James said with a shrug and the words pierced Harry’s heart. “Stick with Snivellus and the mutts, kid. We’ll fix this.”

Face hard to mask his pain, but tears still beading in the corners of his eyes, Harry watched Lily and James walk away. He desperately wanted to stop them, wanted to maybe even hurt them, but he found he could hardly move, though, whether he was frozen from hurt or weakness, he wasn’t sure. He just watched them get further away, disappearing into the storm and dark forest. His gaze flicked up to Grey as the man came to stand in front of him.

“If you get in our way or try to have me removed from Hogwarts, I’ll kill that bastard you call a father and the rest of your pathetic family, filthy traitors and beasts that they all are,” Grey threatened. “Trust me, I’ve wanted nothing more than to get my hands on Snape. Don’t give me a reason.”

Harry didn’t move as Grey swept around him. It was all too much; it all hurt too much. His magic was whipping around so violently it was moving the falling snow more aggressively than the wind ever could, making the icy flakes prick at his skin. At the same time, the draw on his magic was powerful, siphoning it away from his core, his body, and dragging it to the horcrux in his head and the horcrux that had been with Lily and James. However, as they disappeared, that horcrux’s effect also disappeared, leaving his wild magic to the horcrux in his scar.

He bowed his head, staring at his hands buried in the snow as he listened to the lightest crunching of snow grow distant. The horcrux’s magic was slithering around inside him alongside his own pulsing magic, consuming what it could and still reaching for the other part of its whole. It was a conundrum of painful sensations, feeling like he was being both torn apart and crushed. Curling his fingers into the frozen ground beneath the snow, he let out a short shout of agonized despair and released his overreacting magic. It left him in a strong, sparking wave, bursting through the falling snow, shaking trees, and melting all the snow on the ground around him about three meters in every direction, leaving behind scorched, blackened grass.

He stared blankly at his revealed hands, still numb but now smudged with ash. With every word he’d heard echoing in his head, fracturing everywhere they hit, tears began to fall down his cheeks, very briefly hot against his frigid skin.

Every second of his life was crumbling. His heart was shattering. He was breaking.

He couldn’t go back to the castle, not like this, not with his magic leaving him in aggressive, electrified waves. He couldn’t go to his family because how could he face them, confront them with what he’d learned? How could he tell them that the beloved friends they’d loved so much hadn’t cared for them at all, had, in fact, seen them as worthless playthings to be discarded at first sight of boredom?

With a groan, he stumbled to his feet and shuffled through the forest, tripping over snow-covered roots as his magic made him unsteady and the horcrux twisted through him, devouring the power it so rarely had access to. He could feel how it weakened him, different than the magical depletion his expulsion of magic was causing. The horcrux was taking more than his magic.

He wasn’t sure how long he walked, doing so without thought, but it didn’t seem long before he was collapsing next to the lake where he’d almost lost Sirius to the Dementors. His trembling had grown severe, though from the cold, his magic, or both, he wasn’t sure. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought to keep his breathing even to try and steady his magic. He pushed through the pressure and pain to feel the cold dirt under his palms and the wetness in his pajama pants against his knees, to hear the whistling wind and creaking trees, to smell the distinct brisk smell of the wintery air. He didn’t have Severus there, but he thought of the warm comfort the man inspired and imagined his father’s voice murmuring in his ear, guiding him back to safety and sanity.

He opened his eyes and gazed at the lake, his magic creating vicious ripples across the lake’s surface. Everything about him—his thoughts, his emotions, his memories, his magic, his identity—felt like those ripples, a constant, unclear disturbance keeping him from understanding or settling, keeping him under threat of being take under.

How was he supposed to find a way through the dark, rough waves that had broken the crystalline surface of the life he’d created?

The path was gone.

Where was he meant to go now?

A cloak falling over his shoulders and back made him jump, his magic pulsing sharply in response.

“Bloody hell, kid, you’re blue! Severus, I found him. By the forest lake.”

Harry looked up just in time to see the scrying mirror get tucked into a waistcoat pocket. “Sirius.”

Hands grasped his arms and turned him until he was sat on the lakebed, Sirius crouching in front of him with a face full of worry.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I…I followed Grey.”

Sirius paused briefly in wrapping his cloak tightly around Harry to look at him sharply. “Why would you do that? You have no idea what he could have done to you.”

Harry’s eyes dropped to where Sirius had pulled his hands out of the cloak to rub vigorously between his own, desperate to restore warmth to the icy digits.

“I know, but I thought I could find out…” he trailed off, hating what he had found out. “He was meeting…Sirius, it’s them.”

Sirius’ rubbing slowed and his eyes slid up to his godfather’s again, worry replaced with sadness. “Yeah, it is.”

“James, he…he said you weren’t…”

“His friend?” Sirius finished and Harry gave a small nod as Sirius sighed, looking down at where he was still holding Harry’s hands which were beginning to tingle as the blood was forced to keep circulating. “Yeah, I know. Maybe I’ve always known.”

“Sirius,” Harry whispered, heartbroken for his godfather.

Sirius’ eyes rose to his again, blueish-grey sparkling. “It doesn’t matter. Whether I was his friend or not, I got you out of the deal. We all did. A pretty good trade to me.”

His godfather’s love breaking through a small part of his despair, Harry pulled his hands from Sirius’ and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ torso, pressing his head against the man’s shoulder. As Sirius held him close, Harry felt his erratic magic finally settle ever so slightly which forced the horcrux to also pull back, the amount of available magic to steal lessening.

“Harry, thank Merlin.”

Harry raised his head to look over Sirius’ shoulder at Severus who was hurrying towards them with his wand lit and Remus following him. Harry jumped to his feet, wavering slightly, and immediately embraced his father, burying his face in the broad chest. Severus’ arms wrapped tightly around him and his magic settled more, the horcrux fading further to his subconscious again as its power supply continued to wane.

“We’ve been looking for you for hours.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered, feeling Severus adjust Sirius’ cloak to ensure it was covering as much of him as possible which wasn’t really necessary, given the cloak was twice the size of him.

“Foolish child.” Severus sighed, hand brushing through his damp, snowy hair. “Let’s get you inside. You’re freezing.”

“We need to talk to Dumbledore,” Harry said, pulling back from Severus and pulling the cloak closed around him. “Lily and James know about the horcruxes. It’s why they’re back.”

He saw Severus’ eyes flicker past him to Sirius briefly. “Very well. Come.”

Held to Severus’ side, Harry left the forest with his father and godfathers, heading through the still-worsening storm back up to the castle. By the time they entered Hogwarts, his chaotic magic had eased and the horcrux silently settled back into its shadowy place. He was still trembling and weak and distraught, but he held it back as they made their way up to Dumbledore’s office.

“Oh, you’ve found him,” Dumbledore said as they all entered the office. “What a relief.”

“In the forest,” Severus told him and Harry didn’t bother protesting as he was pushed into a chair. “I await your genius reasoning for leaving this castle and visiting the Forbidden Forest at night, in a storm, in your pajamas.”

Harry peeked up at Severus as his father’s voice grew louder and tighter by the end of the dry, condescending comment that was an order disguised as an invitation to share. He knew better, though it didn’t mean he wanted to.

“Dad—”

Severus pinned him with a sharp gaze that had quickly morphed into an unimpressed glare simmering in anger and disappointment.

“Lie or make excuses and I promise the trouble you are in will immediately multiply exponentially,” Severus threatened.

Harry sighed and dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap. “I followed Grey. I thought I could catch him at something and prove, I dunno, something.”

“Harry, I swear—”

“Look, can you be mad at me later because he was meeting with Lily and James,” Harry interrupted, eyes flying up to his father again and darting around to the others. “I saw them…I talked to them.”

His father, godfathers, and Dumbledore shared looks before all settling around him in the empty seats. Once behind the desk, Dumbledore leaned forward, clasped his hands, and gazed intently at Harry.

“What did they tell you?”

“Not everything,” Harry admitted. “They didn’t tell me how they did it all or where they’ve been, but I know why they’re back.”

“Why is that?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry met the blue eyes. “They know about the horcruxes.”

The silence was so sharp it left a ringing in his ears.

“They don’t know how many there are or where they are or that I am one, but they know about them. They have one and are looking for the others,” Harry told them.

“How do you know they had one?” Remus wondered.

Harry hesitated to explain. “I could feel it. The horcrux in me was taking my magic and so was the one they had.”

He chose to leave out the pain and weakness that had also been caused, and the way it had all felt like his life was being sapped. He didn’t want them worrying that the horcrux had already started taking more than his magic or that there was a deep, dull weakness that had yet to subside. The piercing, searching stare he was getting from Dumbledore told him the headmaster knew what had happened and was still happening.

“Does yours feel stronger?” Dumbledore asked and, while Harry didn’t want to admit any such thing, he appreciated the headmaster’s subtly.

He nodded, seeing the graveness pass through the man’s face. He chose not to look at his father or godfathers for fear of the anguish he might find, that he was causing.

“It is certainly all troubling,” Dumbledore responded, sitting back in his chair.

“Troubling?” Severus exclaimed, outraged, and Harry winced at the reaction. “Is that all? Lily and James Potter are alive. They’re after the horcruxes and, given they already set Harry up to die once, Merlin only knows what they’ll do if they find out he is a horcrux. That same horcrux is killing my son and you find it all to simply be troubling?”

“Severus, you know I do not intend to be dismissive,” Dumbledore consoled. “I understand the danger and the seriousness, and I can only imagine what you are all feeling.”

Harry finally looked around at his family, heart aching with each face of despair. Severus had his arms tight across his chest as he glared at Dumbledore, anger masking his pain. Remus was hunched over, hands clasped between his knees and unblinking eyes glued to the floor. Sirius had left his seat and was staring out the window, hands in his pockets and face twisted, haunted in much the same way it had been that night in third year.

“With respect to the horcruxes, however, we do have advantages,” Dumbledore continued.

“Like what?” Sirius questioned, turning away from the window. “They have a horcrux we didn’t and don’t even know about.”

“We’ve been hunting them going on three years and we’ve honestly gotten nowhere,” Remus added.

“Except we know how many there are and have more avenues of investigation than they do,” Dumbledore told them. “Additionally, we are about to possess another ourselves come this weekend, if you remember.”

“I would not recommend reminding me,” Severus grumbled. “And what of Grey? Surely he can be removed now.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “He has not been a danger to students and has, truthfully, done nothing wrong.”

“He’s not even who he says he is!” Sirius protested loudly.

“We have no way to prove that,” Dumbledore pointed out. “The identity of Ethan Grey is sound.”

“He helped the people who left a child to die!” Severus argued.

“And how would you suggest we confront that when the entirety of wizarding Britain believes the Potters to be dead?” Dumbledore said tersely. “There are risks to consider if the survival of Lily and James is to be revealed. Not to mention, who will believe they willingly let Harry die when their sacrifice is one of our world’s greatest stories? We must tread carefully, gentlemen.”

There was a silence in which Harry glanced up at Severus who was seething and his godfathers who were some mix of tortured despondence. It was harsh, but Dumbledore was right.

“Fine,” Severus finally spat bitterly, rising swiftly to his feet. “If there is nothing else? I would like to get my son home for the night, and ensure he’s not gone and made his fool self ill.”

Harry couldn’t help but shoot his father a small scowl.

Dumbledore gave a quiet sigh. “No, you may go.”

“Come along, Harry,” Severus said tightly, turning to walk from the office with Remus coming to walk next to him.

Harry echoed Dumbledore’s sigh and stood, following Severus and Remus with Sirius behind him. They were all silent as they walked down to the dungeons, the quiet between them tense and suffocating. He could feel how unbalanced and disconcerted and hurt his family was, their beloved friends suddenly cold, vicious strangers. How could they possibly reconcile what they’d thought they’d known with what they’d learned?

They all entered Severus’ quarters and Harry was instantly guided to his room, his father quietly telling Sirius and Remus to wait in the common area. Harry stood in the centre of his room as Severus dug in the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of Harry’s thickest pajamas. They were tossed on the bed and then Severus was in front of him, pulling off Sirius’ cloak and giving him a quick visual examination before raising his wand.

“Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to have your friends show up at my door, hysterically telling me you are not in bed where we all believed you to be?” Severus said, waving his wand in small motions over various parts of Harry’s body.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Harry replied meaningfully. “Just thought I wanted to know.”

He felt Severus’ searching stare, but kept his own stare on his father’s chest. The anger he’d felt while talking to Lily and James had changed to a numbness while he’d been in the snow, but it was melting now into a sickening hurt, shredding his heart strip by strip.

“Anything else you’d like to tell me?” Severus asked gently, finishing his scans and handing Harry the clean, warm, dry pajamas.

Harry took them, staring blankly at the green plaid bottoms and grey raglan-style top. “They didn’t want me,” he muttered, his forehead wrinkling as he remembered. “I’m not special so they didn’t want me.”

Severus didn’t respond and Harry was horrified to feel tears pricking his eyes as he changed swiftly. Cozy if not happy in his change of pajamas, he was taken by the shoulders and guided to the door. Only, they didn’t go through. Rather, Severus stopped them and, still gently holding his shoulders, they faced the common area.

“Look at what you have created.”

Harry frowned, craning his neck to look up at Severus. “What?”

Severus nodded to the common area. “Look.”

Harry did, gazing at Sirius, Remus, and Kingsley—who had apparently shown up while they’d been in his room—curiously, wondering what his father was getting at. Remus was sitting, hunched over again like he’d been in Dumbledore’s office, but looking up at Sirius and Kingsley instead of at the floor. Sirius was next to him, leaning against the fireplace mantle and Kingsley’s hand comfortingly on his shoulder. They all looked terribly upset, drawn, but were talking quietly, nodding at each other and even managing to draw out the tiniest of smiles here and there.

“You are the reason this exists,” Severus eventually said. “You’ve truly no idea the lives we’d all lead before you and I shudder to think what they would be now, particularly mine, without you.”

Harry looked up at Severus again. “I don’t understand.”

“Your assertion that you are not special is patently untrue.”

“But they said—”

“They are categorically wrong,” Severus said firmly. “You are extraordinarily special, Harry. You are everything that is special in this world, not because of a prophecy, but because of what you have survived, because of the remarkable person you became, because only you could have done this.” He gestured to himself and Harry’s godfathers again.

Harry looked at Sirius, Remus, and Kingsley, a warmth making his pain dull just slightly. Severus’ arms slid around his shoulders, bringing him back against his father’s chest, the man’s lips at his ear.

“We don’t need a prophecy. We don’t need an intact core. We don’t need the Boy Who Lived,” Severus murmured. “We love you regardless. You are my son regardless. You are special to us simply because you are ours. They were fools not to see what they had.”

Harry reached up to grasp Severus’ forearm, his eyes closing and a few tears trickling out as Severus squeezed him, kissing his temple.

No matter how much the words, the love, helped, it just couldn’t erase the pain. Not yet.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

“I am vehemently against this,” Severus said several days later as they all gathered in Dumbledore’s office.

“Dad,” Harry grumbled quietly, earning himself a sharp look that made him sigh. This wasn’t the first time his father was protesting his participation in the horcrux retrieval mission.

“I know you would rather Harry remain behind—” Dumbledore said only to be cut off.

“Of course I do!” Severus interrupted angrily. “You are bringing my son to not only find a horcrux without knowing what protections are around it or what it will do to him, but you are also bringing him back to where he was tortured, forced to be part of a Resurrection Ritual, and watched a friend be murdered!”

Harry flinched at the mention of Cedric, bringing Kingsley’s arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

“Why would you ever think I would willingly agree to this?”

“Harry is likely the only way we will find the ring,” Dumbledore replied.

“No, he will make it easier which I do not feel is worth the risk,” Severus argued sharply. “We could find it without him.”

“Dad, don’t I get a choice?” Harry asked, attempting to break into the stand-off.

“Not when I know what you will choose,” Severus snapped, giving him another sharp look, and Harry huffed, crossing his arms.

“You are acting like I’m sending him there alone,” Dumbledore said and Harry winced at the piercing glare his father gave the headmaster to response to the slightly patronizing tone. “We will all be there to protect him.”

Harry glanced around at the gathered team of Kingsley, Bill, and Tonks before looking back at Severus. “Dad, please.”

Severus stared at him for several long seconds before crooking a finger. “Come here.”

Sighing, sure he was about to be tied to a chair or stunned or something, Harry left Kingsley’s side and followed Severus to the area behind Dumbledore’s desk separated by a couple of columns. He looked up at his father unhappily, crossing his arms again.

“Do not give me that look,” Severus said sternly and Harry glanced away, chastised. His father let out a deep breath, sounding exhausted. “I’m worried, Harry. I don’t want you near the horcruxes when yours is getting so much stronger so quickly.”

Harry chewed his lip, part of him so close to admitting just what had happened in the forest. If he did, though, it would only worry Severus more and, with everything going on already, he just couldn’t do that to his father.

“And bringing you back to that place,” Severus continued, voice thick and making Harry swallow as his guilt grew heavier. “You have no idea how you looked when you came back from that graveyard, how you were for weeks after that. I thought I’d lost you. I cannot see you that way again. I cannot risk that place taking you from me again.”

Harry’s eyes slid back to Severus finally, the pain in his father’s voice making his heart ache. He remembered how he’d felt after the Final Task, awash with a numbing agony that kept him floating outside himself. Nothing had felt real for weeks. It took so long before he felt like he’d truly escaped that graveyard. He remembered how awful those weeks had been and still were when those emotional memories returned suddenly, but gazing at Severus, he realized the man was right. He had no idea what it must have been like for his father to witness the shell he’d become, unable to do anything because, really, what could he have done if Harry had even let him do anything at all?

“We both know I was supposed to die in that graveyard that night,” Harry said, watching a haunted pain flood his father’s eyes. “I was not supposed to make it out, but I did and I did because of you, because of what you’ve taught me, what you’ve given me, what you’ve made me.”

Pride inched its way reluctantly into the dark eyes.

“I was there alone with Voldemort and Death Eaters, but I made it out because of you,” Harry said, keeping his eyes locked on his father’s. “This time, we’re just looking for a horcrux and you’re with me. If I could make it back when I was alone, I can make it back with you. You won’t lose me there. You won’t let that happen.”

He could see Severus’ resolve crumbling under his growing reluctant acquiescence.

“We need the horcruxes. We need to destroy them so we can destroy Voldemort and I can just live my life,” Harry told him earnestly. “Let me help find a way to survive.”

He saw the moment Severus gave in before the man reached out, threading his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“I loathe how you can be so Gryffindor and Slytherin at the same time,” Severus murmured and Harry chuckled. “I forget how strong you’ve been through everything, so much more than I ever was at your age.”

“You’re strong, Dad, because you’ve survived and I’ve survived because you taught me how,” Harry argued gently, always hurt when the man was so self-deprecating. “I’ve told you before I’m strong because you raised me to be and I’m going to survive this to prove it to you.”

“Merlin save me,” Severus muttered, eyes rolling to the ceiling and making Harry laugh again at his father’s exasperation. “Very well. I will allow you to help with the horcruxes going forward. However, today you are to stay close and follow everyone’s instructions, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded.

With a sigh indicating Severus wanted to change his mind, the man turned Harry around with a hand on his back and Harry was guided back to the waiting team. With a significant look shared between Severus and Dumbledore, Severus was handed a brass candle holder which Harry frowned at, knowing it was a Portkey. His father’s hand rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“You each have your tasks once we are in the graveyard,” Dumbledore said to the team. “Harry, you are to remain close to Severus and Bill. Should you find anything, they are to investigate first, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

“Remain alert,” Dumbledore told them. “Should we be attacked, whoever is closest to Harry is to escape with him to the designated safe house and the rest of us Apparate to assigned locations. Do not leave your locations for twenty-four hours and do not communicate with anyone in any form. I do not want anyone hanging back to engage in a fight. The danger is not worth it. Are we all in agreement?”

The adults all expressed their agreement and Dumbledore gave a sharp nod of satisfaction.

“If we are all ready.”

Harry looked at the Portkey Severus held again, a chill running through him as he remembered the Triwizard Cup’s tug and was brought back to the graveyard, surrounded by Death Eaters and ghostly pain tearing up his spine. His heart pounded in his chest and his breaths caught in his throat as terror froze him.

“Relax, child, everything’s alright.”

Severus’ soft voice and hand touching his arm brought him back, a gentle touch having not existed in those hours. He forced his gaze away from the candle holder and slid them up to Severus’ where concern was shining. Even worried, his father still so easily made him feel safe, helping him calm down. While the trauma-induced anxiety was still just below the surface, Harry took a deep breath and nodded at Severus.

“I’m okay,” he whispered.

Severus gazed at him searchingly before holding out the Portkey again. Harry reached out to grasp the candle holder.

“Let’s go,” Kingsley said.

Harry sucked in a breath in anticipation, heard Dumbledore snap his fingers, and then he was yanked away with Severus. His heart raced as they spun. Nausea settled in his gut. When his feet hit the ground seconds later, he stumbled and fell to his knees, grass crushed under his palms and brushing through his fingers. His breaths came back in harsh gasps, the compounding sensations mirroring that night in June. Pettigrew shouting, “Avada Kedavra!” echoed in his ears and its green light hitting Cedric flashed in his eyes.

He flinched when a hand touched his back.

“Breathe, Harry. You’re okay. You’re safe, you’re with me.”

Harry forced himself to listen to his father, breathing through everything he did and didn’t feel, everything he did and didn’t hear that had his body panicking. He slowly convinced his brain that there was no cackling, no screaming, and there would be no dead Cedric once he looked up. He convinced his body that there was no burning pain in his arm, no electrifying agony in his nerves, and that there was a chill in the air because it was November, not June. He opened his tightly clenched eyes inch by inch, haunting ghosts threatening to appear only to fade as he dispersed them with a thought contrary to their existence.

He raised his head, finding Severus crouched in front of him.

“I hate Portkeys,” Harry grumbled.

Severus smiled at him, amused, and cupped Harry’s cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “I know, but you’re okay.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Severus rose and helped Harry to his feet. Anxiety returning to his periphery, Harry glanced around. Kingsley and Tonks were walking around setting wards while Dumbledore and Bill had moved a short distance away where they were talking quietly. Everyone was focused on their tasks, giving Harry and Severus space, but Harry still caught the quick looks they sent him, silently checking if he was okay.

He pulled his wand to indicate he was fine and looked around the graveyard, absently noting Bill joining them and quietly conversing with Severus behind him. Though he could easily hear them talking, he didn’t register anything they were saying as he chewed his lip anxiously, his gaze sliding over key parts of the graveyard. His eyes fell on the headstone he knew was engraved with ‘Riddle’ and darted to the grim reaper statue next to it that had held him hostage. The memories tried to swim back and he threw up his Occlumency walls to hold them back. He’d promised Severus wouldn’t lose him to that place and he would keep that promise.

Harry began to slowly walk around, every inch of the graveyard igniting painful memories that he would quickly push behind his curtain, keeping them muted and distant as he tried to focus. He frowned slightly when he began to feel a sharp tug in his chest and a heavy draw on his magic. It felt just like the other night in the forest, telling him his theory was right; there was a horcrux somewhere in that graveyard and it was connecting to his, both pulling at his magic to consume it and strengthen.

He pushed through the weakness the horcruxes were already causing to flood through him and focused on the external pull of his magic, following it to be led to the hidden horcrux. It was difficult to follow, his magic being pulled harshly in all directions as his focus waned slightly with the growing weakness from the horcruxes sucking at not only his magic, but also his life. He did his best to hide the weakness he was feeling, not wanting anyone—Severus especially—to know what the horcruxes had begun to do to him, even as a strange pressure began to grow in his chest, making it feel like his lungs were losing the space to expand and pain pulsed through his chest with every heartbeat.

He was walking past the statue when it felt like his magic was pulling him to a hard stop and he gazed up at the skeletal figure, feeling his magic pulsing hard. He stared into the hooded stone face, frowning when he thought a strange shimmer passed over the eyes. Harry turned to look over his shoulder at Bill who was still whispering to Severus nearby.

“Hey, Bill,” he called and the two looked at him. “Is there anything around the statue?”

“Feel something?” Bill asked as he walked over, coming to stand with Harry in front of the statue.

“Maybe,” Harry said, turning back to the statue as Bill joined him and pulled his wand. He gazed up at the face, frowning when he saw the black and green tinged shimmer over the eyes once more. Next to him, Bill waved his wand in complicated patterns.

“There’s definitely something,” Bill said, continuing to wave his wand.

Harry was watching the shimmer become more constant when something inside him began to squeeze, making him cough. It started light, but quickly turned into heaving, deep coughs that had him doubling over. He brought a hand up to his mouth as his other landed on the statue to keep him standing. He could vaguely hear his name being called, but it was muffled by the rushing in his ears from his coughing, and the pulsing of the horcruxes harshly puling at and pressing against his magic. He pulled his hand from his mouth slightly and forced his teary eyes open only for them to widen when he saw the light spattering of blood across his palm.

“Damn it, Harry, answer me!”

Severus’ voice finally broke through and Harry quickly dropped his hand to conceal the blood from his father.

“I’m okay, I just—ow!” Harry broke off in a hiss as a sharp, stinging pain erupted across his other palm where it was pressed to the stone. He pulled away, finding a small bead of blood trickling down the stone and he frowned at the thin cut across his palm. He looked back at the statue to see the whole thing had taken on the same shimmer before the blood sank into the stone and, in a pulse, a wave of power washed over the area.

“What the hell is that?” he heard Tonks say.

“Look out!”

Harry looked up at Bill’s shout just in time to see the grim reaper’s scythe fly up in the air and come soaring down towards him and Bill. He ducked with Bill and felt the giant stone blade hit the ground behind him, making it shake. Harry had barely dropped his hands from his head when the ground suddenly crumbled, and he and Bill were falling. When he hit the ground a few seconds later, the hard impact knocked all the air from his lungs and he groaned. Dirt and rock rained down on him and Bill who was groaning next to him.

Once again, Harry could just barely hear the panicked shouting of his name through the ringing in his ears along with confusing demands to, “Take it down!” He had no idea what Severus and Kingsley were talking about.

“Hey,” Bill said next to him, voice pained. “Hey, you okay?”

Harry did a quick inventory, finding aches and pains, but nothing excruciating. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“We’re okay!” Bill called up to the others. “Kid seems fine, Severus!”

“You had better not be lying, Weasley!” Severus growled threateningly.

“’Weasley’? Ouch,” Bill grumbled. “Wouldn’t dream of it!” he called back.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little. He felt Bill shifting next to him and then the redhead was appearing above him, dirty with a few bleeding scrapes. He accepted Bill’s hand, groaning again as he was helped to his feet, every part of him protesting. He winced at the stinging he became aware of above his eye and sucked in a breath when his fingers bumped something small but hard that seemed to be in his skin. It was only then that he realized the left lens of his glasses was gone, completely shattered.

“Oh, ouch, let me see,” Bill said, noticing the small injury.

Harry winced when Bill pulled the little shard of glass out before pressing his own sleeve to Harry’s head firmly to slow the bleeding. Bill also waved his wand and Harry found his glasses repairing themselves, making him blink as he realized how blurry everything had been. Bill lifted his arm to see the wound before looking at Harry.

“Feeling alright?”

Harry nodded.

“Good,” Bill said before tilting his head back to look up where they’d fallen. “What’s going on up there?”

“Some kind of barriers appeared,” Kingsley replied and a frown crossed Bill’s face. “One around this opening and one around the whole graveyard. We’re trying to break them down.”

“Do they look like anything?” Bill wondered.

Harry tuned out the conversation, gazing around the area that was dark except for right where they were standing with the opening above them. They were several metres down and surrounded by dirt walls. He frowned when he felt his horcrux slither around inside him, reaching insistently for the other it knew was nearby, reaching back just the same.

He was urged forward outside his control, taking a couple of steps towards a dirt wall. He wasn’t thinking when he raised his hand with the cut palm and pressed it against the dirt, jumping when it crumbled, leaving a small tunnel. When he coughed slightly, he wasn’t sure if it was from the dusty, stale air or the horcruxes. The constricting and whatever else that had been happening had eased, leaving just the pulsing pressure of the horcruxes reaching and feeding on his magic to grow stronger.

Harry crouched to look through the tunnel, frowning when he saw a green glow.

“Bill, I see something,” Harry said over his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare go near anything, Harry, do you hear me?” Severus shouted down as muffled orders were barked around him.

Harry huffed, straightening up and rejoining Bill in the opening to call back to his father. “It’s the horcrux, Dad! It’s the reason we’re here!”

“It’s dangerous!”

“Sure, but I’ve got Bill and you promised!” Harry retorted. “You promised you would let me do this.”

There was a long pause, Harry meeting Bill’s arched eyebrow as they waited.

“Stay with him, Bill,” Severus eventually said. “Don’t you dare leave him alone.”

“Where would I go?” Bill joked and, even from so far, Harry could feel Severus’ annoyance. “I’ve got him, Severus, don’t worry. Just help get us out of this graveyard once we’re done.”

Harry knew Severus wanted to argue, but no other comments came, leaving Harry and Bill alone. They turned to the tunnel.

“Let me go first, yeah?” Bill suggested and Harry nodded.

He watched Bill get on his hands and knees, and slowly crawl through the small opening. Harry followed soon after. On the other side, they stood in another dirt chamber not much wider than their arm span and completely dark, making Bill light his wand. In front of them, against the far wall was a skeleton sat on the floor. Its skeletal hands were cupped and, balanced precariously on the small, thin bones, was a ring, its golden band glinting in Bill’s wandlight and its black pyramid-shaped stone gleaming. It seemed so easy, but then the air shimmered, revealing a translucent, lime green orb around the hands and ring.

“What is it?” Harry asked, watching Bill step closer to the skeleton.

“Nothing good,” Bill mumbled with a tight expression.

“Can you break it?”

“I can try.”

Harry watched as Bill waved his wand around the glowing orb situated just around the skeleton’s hands, muttering quietly here and there. After a few minutes, Bill paused and Harry thought he’d broken the magic around the ring when the greenish orb faded away. There was a moment of tense silence as they both stared at the skeleton.

Then, there was a bright explosion of power and Harry was sent to his knees as the horcruxes pierced into his core, sending excruciating pain ripping through his body. He clenched his jaw, trying not to scream, even as he became aware of Bill crying out. He forced his head up to find Bill.

He’d been pinned to the wall by the suddenly-animate skeleton who was glowing ominously, its bones shimmering the same way the orb and the statue’s eyes had. It had its hands wrapped around Bill’s throat, but its fingers were curled, making them pierce Bill’s neck, sinking deeper as it squeezed harder and harder. The ring was hooked around its thumb where it had red rivers swirling in it from the streams of blood leaving Bill’s neck and slithering around the skeleton’s bones to the ring, melting into the black stone.

“B…Bill,” Harry gasped, pain and weakness continuing to wrack his body as his magic was consumed. “Wha…what do…we…do?”

“The…c…curse is t…tied to…some…thing,” Bill choked out, shouting as the skeleton’s fingers buried deeper. “There…there’s a fo…focal point, some…something d…dir…ecting the curse. We need…the focal…point!”

Harry couldn’t help but scream as the pain increased at the same time the skeleton released its own haunting, chilling roar. Harry was nearly collapsed on the ground as he trembled, but forced his thoughts to clear enough for him to think about what Bill had said. Something was driving the curse and, since it was all to protect the horcrux, he assumed the focal point was likely something to do with the ring.

Bill screamed and Harry lifted his head shakily. His eyes landed on the ring and he stared, watching Bill’s blood sink into it. Then, he realized.

The ring was Voldemort’s mother’s. The skeleton was Voldemort’s father. Merope died wearing the ring. Tom Riddle Senior was killed to make the ring a horcrux. Harry’s blood was used to bring Voldemort back.

“Blood,” he whispered. “It’s all about blood.”

Harry looked around almost frantically until he saw a sharp, jagged rock. He reached for it and, gripping it tight, he dragged it through the small cut that was already on his left palm. He growled and gritted his teeth through the pain as he tore his hand open. With his palm a ragged, dirty, and bloody mess, Harry crawled over to Bill and the skeleton. Harry struggled to his feet and gripped the skeleton’s hand with the ring with his left hand. the skeleton screeched and dissolved into dust, leaving the ring to land in Harry’s hand. The pain became blinding and Harry stumbled, the ring falling from his grasp.

Bill caught him before he could collapse to the ground again. He was moved to lean against the wall and he watched Bill pull a small velvet pouch out of his pocket as he crouched, placing the fallen ring inside. Almost immediately, the worst of the pain and pressure eased, his horcrux very slowly creeping to the background with all the magic it had taken. It was heavy now, heavier than it had been.

Harry sagged against the wall.

“You okay?” Bill asked, stowing the pouch in his pocket.

Harry nodded jerkily. “I think so. You?”

Bill reached up to touch one of the punctures on his neck, grimacing. “I’ll live. Come on, let’s—”

“Get out of here!” Severus was suddenly shouting down to them, his voice loud enough to float through the little tunnel they’d passed through. “Death Eaters are here and we can’t take the barriers down! Grab Harry and go!”

“Dad, no!”

“Bill, you save my son!”

Harry looked at Bill with wide eyes, fear and dread settling coldly inside him. Bill looked conflicted for a moment before he grabbed Harry’s arm.

“No, we can’t leave them!” Harry protested, terrified for his father and Kingsley.

“We have to!” Bill said and Harry didn’t get to say anything else as Bill spun them sharply, Apparating them away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Landing on a wooden floor that he would have hit if Bill hadn’t been holding his arm, Harry felt the complicated wards snap into place around them. Once steady, Harry gazed around the small, single-room house, if it could be called that. It looked far more like a studio flat than a house, honestly. Behind them was a sofa with a couple of throw pillows and a wooden chest against the wall to its left. There was an archway immediately to their right with a tiny, short corridor inside and a kitchenette on the other side. A floor lamp sat next to the sofa and a droplight hung over the kitchenette, supplementing the little natural light provided by two small windows.

“Where are we?” Harry asked, turning to Bill as the redhead tucked his wand away into the holster on his arm.

“Wouldn’t be much of a safe house if we knew that, would it?” Bill said, walking around the archway into what Harry discovered was a tucked-away bathroom.

Harry watched Bill flick a light switch and open the cabinet under the sink, crouching down to rifle through whatever was in there.

“How did you get us here then?” Harry wondered, standing in the doorway. “Don’t you have to picture a place to Apparate to it?”

“Usually, but not always,” Bill replied, abruptly holding a box up to Harry without looking and Harry fumbled to take it. “If you know the exact coordinates of a place, you can use them to Apparate.”

“Oh,” Harry said dumbly.

Bill stood, another box in his hands and he kicked the cabinet doors shut. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“What?” Harry said, blinking as Bill pushed him to the archway and passed by into the kitchenette. “No, I’m fine. Shouldn’t we be worried about everyone else?”

“Sure, but it won’t do anything,” Bill replied with a small shrug. He put his box on the little breakfast bar and shrugged off his cloak, draping it over the counter and rolling up his sleeves after removing his wand before sitting on one of the stool-like seats. “We won’t know anything for twenty-four hours, and Severus will skin me alive if I have you for that long and leave you like this.”

Harry hesitated, wanting to argue more in his worry, but sighed in reluctant agreement as he accepted Bill was right. He crossed over and sat on the second stool beside Bill, putting his box on the counter as well. He watched as Bill opened both boxes, one filled with potion vials and one with simple medical supplies. He gave Bill a questioning look as the redhead made no move to do anything with magic.

“The wards dampen our magic,” Bill told him, pouring some disinfectant on a cotton pad. “If we use too much magic, we could still be detected so it’s best to just not use any.”

Harry nodded in understanding before hissing as Bill dabbed the soaked pad to the cut over his eyebrow, gaining a quiet apology. They were quiet for a while, Bill cleaning and treating his forehead, putting a couple of small butterfly bandages on it to hold it closed. Bill had moved onto Harry’s ragged hand before they finally spoke again.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Harry asked quietly, his worry clear in his voice.

Bill glanced up at him as he grabbed a pair of tweezers to pull the bits of rocky debris from Harry’s palm. “I’m not going to lie and pretend they are when I really don’t know, but I know all of them and I have faith in their skills.”

Harry did, too, but…

He gasped as Bill poured disinfectant on his hand, the wound burning and the liquid bubbling. Bill gave him an apologetic look.

“There were wards, though, that they couldn’t break,” Harry said, remembering the conversation he’d tuned out between Severus, Kingsley, and Bill when they’d been in the grave.

Bill nodded, using some bunched gauze to pat away the disinfectant and any blood. “Probably the same as the curse on the skeleton or similar. Blood wards of some kind.”

Harry frowned in concern. “Can they get out if it was blood wards?”

“Yes,” Bill said simply. “If it’s the same as the skeleton, then Severus just needs to get blood on the statue because you two did a blood adoption so you share blood, meaning Severus also shares blood with You-Know-Who. The other option is that it was just a basic protection blood barrier in which case they just have to defeat the attackers because the ward was likely tied to those specific Death Eaters and called them once it was tripped.”

“What do you think it was?” Harry asked, watching as thick gauze was pressed to his palm before being covered by the bandages Bill wrapped around his hand.

“Both,” Bill replied. “I think the ward around the graveyard was a general blood ward with a summoning aspect and was tied to the statue with the specific Death Eaters as its tether. When you touched the statue, it cut you to get your blood and I think you triggered multiple things. It recognized your blood as enemy blood first, triggering the graveyard ward and calling the Death Eaters.”

“First?” Harry repeated curiously.

Bill nodded again, taping the bandages and rising from his seat, circling the counter into the kitchenette. He opened a couple of drawers, pulling out a dishcloth and holding it under the faucet to dampen it. Ringing out the excess, he handed it to Harry before pulling the first aid box onto the lower counter.

“I imagine the statue also recognized You-Know-Who in you, in your blood, and that opened the grave. The ward that went around the grave was likely a secondary safety measure in case anyone managed to get in, trapping them in the grave with the skeleton,” Bill explained. “The skeleton, of course, was then the specific blood curse so only those with his blood could touch it and get the horcrux. He never would have imagined anyone but him could get it, especially since he doesn’t know about you.”

“True,” Harry murmured, proceeding to use the damp cloth to wipe the dirt and blood from his face as Bill treated the punctures on his own neck. They were quiet again, Harry gazing at the now-stained cloth in his hands, scared thoughts on Severus and Kingsley.

“Hey,” Bill said gently and Harry looked up at him from his hands fidgeting with the cloth. “I’m sure they’ll be okay. They know what they’re doing and they’ve got Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded tightly, swallowing thickly as he heard Bill sigh quietly.

“Let’s get something to eat, yeah?” Bill suggested, finally closing the boxes and putting them off to the side before spinning to look in the refrigerator.

Harry couldn’t help but smile slightly at Bill’s attempt to distract him and even chuckled when Bill admitted to being a terrible cook, especially without magic. Getting up to help, Harry had to admit that Bill had successfully distracted him, later making him wonder if Bill’s cooking confession had been real or not. They’d found some chicken breasts and vegetables so had made a simple meal of pan-seared chicken and mushrooms with oven-roasted potatoes.

They were mostly quiet as they ate, Harry’s thoughts quickly drifting back to his father and his renewed worry nearly putting him off eating.

“Well,” Bill said as he finished washing up, “we’re here for another twenty-one hours. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”

They returned to the sitting room where Harry sat in the corner of the sofa, kicking off his shoes to pull his knees to his chest, and Bill dug through the nearby chest. Inside, Bill found some blankets, pyjamas, a few books, a roll of parchment and Muggle pens, and a chess set.

They spent the next several hours finding ways to pass the time, reading and playing chess and talking. By the time it was late enough that they both started feeling ready to sleep, Harry was sketching aimlessly on the roll of parchment. He watched Bill rise from the other end of the sofa and pull all the blankets from the chest. Harry was handed one which he quickly draped over himself and Bill laid two of the remaining three on the floor beside the sofa.

“You can take the sofa,” Harry protested when he realized what Bill was doing when Bill grabbed one of the throw pillows and tossed it on the floor, sitting and unfolding the third blanket over himself. “I’d be fine on the floor. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Which is exactly why I’m taking the floor,” Bill said lightly, shifting and laying down. “Besides, you were far more hurt in that graveyard than me.”

Harry frowned. “It’s just a cut hand.”

“I saw the blood when you were coughing, Harry,” Bill said bluntly and Harry looked down at him sharply. “The horcruxes, right?”

Harry sighed. “Yeah.”

“Does Severus know how bad it’s gotten?” Bill asked.

Harry shook his head. “This was the first time there was blood, but you can’t tell Dad.”

“He needs to know,” Bill argued gently. “This is serious.”

“I know, but he’s worried enough,” Harry told him. “Besides, I’m fine now. It was just because there was another horcrux.”

“Harry…”

“I’ll tell him eventually, just not yet,” Harry interrupted. “There’s too much going on.”

Bill sighed. “Fine.”

Satisfied Bill wouldn’t be spilling to Severus, Harry put the parchment and pen on the floor, and flicked off the lamp, laying down. He gazed up through the dark at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling around Severus. He wanted to know Severus was alright. He wanted the comfort of his father.

He dragged his finger back and forth over the bandages on his hand, an absent anxious gesture.

Despite what he’d told Bill, there was still something that hadn’t quite faded. He could feel a cold stinging in his chest with a fizzling sensation on the edges. The horcruxes had caused real damage, damage his horcrux had latched onto. He could feel it burrowing deeper, eating away at him. It was no longer trapped in that place in his head.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach clenched.

He just wanted his dad.

Harry was anxious as he stood next to Bill, staring at the corner where the fireplace was meant to appear that would allow them to Floo to Hogwarts. A part of him was irrationally convinced it wasn’t going to appear while another part was convinced they would find no one when they returned to the castle.

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding and memories of Severus kept playing in his head in anticipation of never seeing the man again. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly make it through if Severus was gone. He couldn’t fathom life without Severus, couldn’t imagine everything Severus was meant to be there for but would miss if he was dead. He couldn’t imagine having to do any of it alone. Before, maybe, when he knew nothing better than the Dursleys, but not now, now he knew what he’d be without. He couldn’t go back to that.

“Time to go.”

Harry’s spiralling was interrupted by Bill and he realized there was a fireplace with green embers in front of him.

“Hey, breathe. He’ll be there,” Bill said and Harry realized his chest was burning from holding his breath.

He released the air shakily and fought not to hyperventilate in his as-of-yet unwarranted panic as he stepped into the fireplace. Green flames quickly engulfed him and he spun away in the ash. It was only a few seconds later that he was stumbling out of another fireplace and hearing a few voices. He looked up and was only just able to recognize the headmaster’s office before he was roughly pulled against a broad chest that was clad in just a white Oxford rather than the usual black waistcoat and robes. He instantly wrapped his arms around Severus, bunching the back of the man’s shirt in his fists even though clenching his left caused pain to shoot through his hand.

“I see Bill had the sense to treat your injuries,” Severus said, shifting in Harry’s hold to brush back Harry’s hair and craning to see the bandaged cut on Harry’s forehead.

“Give me some credit,” he heard Bill say, the redhead obviously arriving through the Floo.

“Thank you,” Severus said sincerely.

“Of course,” Bill said easily. “I assume you all made it?”

“Yes, Kingsley and Tonks are at the Ministry,” Dumbledore replied and Harry nearly sagged in relief.

As Dumbledore told Bill what had happened in the graveyard, Harry found himself being pushed back, forcing him to release Severus. He met Severus’ eyes and reached up to grasp Severus’ wrists as the man’s hands cupped his face, tilting his head to examine the wound above his eyebrow.

“Easily healed,” Severus said quietly, once again forcing Harry to release him as he took Harry’s bandaged left hand. The bandages were unravelled and the gauze removed to reveal the angry, jagged laceration. “There may be a small scar due to treatment delay.”

Harry just nodded and fingers gently raised his head.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Harry replied. “I’ve been more worried about you. And Kingsley.”

“He is alright. A few cuts. A strained knee,” Severus told him. “The horcruxes, did they hurt you?”

Harry’s stomach twisted and he was sure he saw Bill cast him a quick glance from behind Severus. he forced a reassuring smile onto his face and shook his head. “No, not really. I felt a little weak, but nothing too terrible.”

Harry was wracked with guilt as Severus released a deep breath of relief and pulled Harry into another tight hug. He knew he should tell Severus the truth, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t cause Severus more pain. He didn’t want Severus to feel helpless and like they were running out of time. He just wanted everything to be as normal as possible with Severus for whatever time they had left. Besides, except for the cold sting in his chest, he felt fine. He was fine.

“Was our mission a success?” Dumbledore asked, and Harry looked over at Bill and the headmaster as Severus pulled back from their embrace.

“It was,” Bill said, pulling the velvet pouch from his pocket and handing it to Dumbledore.

When Dumbledore opened the pouch and tilted it to drop the ring into his palm, Harry immediately felt his scar burn and his chest ache as the horcruxes reached for each other and his magic. He gasped and his uninjured hand flew to his chest, feeling the urge to cough again like in the graveyard.

“Albus,” he heard Severus say.

“Of course.”

The sensations suddenly disappeared and Harry looked back at Dumbledore, finding the ring was back in the pouch.

“Perhaps it would be best if Harry was not present for this,” Dumbledore suggested. “Proximity when a horcrux is destroyed could be dangerous.”

“Agreed,” Severus said with a sharp nod. “I will return shortly.”

Harry was guided into the fireplace and swiftly sent down to Severus’ quarters. After being forced into isolation for twenty-four hours, the relief and comfort Severus’ rooms brought were nearly overwhelming. He moved to lean against the arm of the sofa and watched Severus step out of the fireplace.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, eyes searching him closely.

Harry nodded. “I’m fine.”

Severus considered him sharply. “Very well. Relax. I should be back soon.”

“Can’t you stay?” Harry asked, knowing the look he gave his father was pleading.

“I must debrief with the headmaster and I wish to study the horcrux’s destruction,” Severus told him. “I will not be gone long.”

Harry sighed and crossed his arms, eyes dropping. “Yeah, alright.” His stomach twisted at the idea of Severus leaving.

Fingers curled under his chin and lifted his eyes back to his father.

“I know the last twenty-four hours have been stressful. Trust me, you have no idea how terrified I was for you, how close I was to breaking Albus’ rules and going to that safe house to find you,” Severus said, tone soft. “I do not want to be away from you either, but I must. However, I will return the moment I can and we will spend the day together. I will not take my eyes off of you. You will be begging for me to leave you alone.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile he tried to suppress. He couldn’t convince Severus to stay if the man was making him laugh.

“I’ll be back soon,” Severus said, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead before he pulled away and disappeared back through the fireplace.

Harry watched the flames die down, settling into the black coal. He sighed sadly, the silence heavy and the room far too large while simultaneously pressing in on him. He didn’t care that he was fifteen, but acting five. He didn’t want to be alone. He had spent an entire day worried Severus was captured or dead; he wanted his father with him. He couldn’t even go to Remus or Sirius, both off doing something for Dumbledore and the Order, and Kingsley was at the Ministry.

He chewed his lip and then pushed away from the sofa, walking out of Severus’ rooms. He couldn’t have his father or godfathers right then, but there was still one person who could help. He headed through the dungeons, making his way to the Slytherin common room a few corridors over. The stone snake that was draped over the door frame, across the door, and around the handle lifted its head and hissed at Harry.

‘Password?’

‘No, I just need you to call someone,’ Harry hissed back. ‘Draco Malfoy.’

‘Very well.’

Harry waited, watching the snake flick its tail to hit the door. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this, discovering the method of calling for Draco when he’d talked to the snake in second year when it told him to stop shouting when he’d been yelling at Draco through the door for the Duelling Club incident. A couple minutes later, the snake was slithering up to drape fully along the top of the frame and the door opened, Draco exiting.

“Bloody hell, what happened?” Draco asked, spotting Harry’s cut forehead and bandaged hand.

“Cursed skeleton,” Harry said shortly, not in the mood to explain the mission. “Dad’s busy and is going to be gone for a bit. Come hang out until he’s back?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Draco agreed and they started back to Severus’ rooms. “So, it all worked out?”

Harry nodded. “They’re all up there about to destroy it.”

“Are you okay?” Draco asked. “Considering what happened when you interacted with yours that day, I can only imagine what being near one could do.”

“Definitely nothing good,” Harry said with a heavy sigh. “It’s stronger, I can feel it. It’s attached itself to my magic now.”

“Does Severus know?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m worried about how he’ll react. He’ll become so desperate.”

“He’ll find out eventually, especially if your magic starts exploding or you start collapsing,” Draco pointed out.

“I’m just hoping I’ve got time before any of that happens.”

If Draco had a response, Harry didn’t get to hear it as the cold sting in his chest suddenly exploded into fiery agony, sending him to his hands and knees. He cried out. His horcrux was writhing inside him, hooking into him painfully, and his scar was burning.

“What’s happening?” Draco was shouting, knelt next to him.

“Hor…horcrux,” Harry gasped out just as he devolved into harsh, wracking coughs. When blood sprayed across the stone, Draco panicked beside him.

“Bloody hell! We need to get some help!”

Harry reached out quickly to grasp Draco’s wrist before his friend could jump to his feet.

“S…stay,” he forced out between coughs.

Another slice of pain ripped through him and he screamed as he shook, barely keeping himself up on his knees. Pain lanced through his head and he was suddenly seeing flashes that were not the Hogwarts dungeons while his magic pulsed viciously. A goblet, a diadem, and a locket drifted in front of his eyes, shaking violently and the air thrumming visibly around them. A snake twisted and writhed, hissing and emitting screeches he’d never heard before. A familiar voice roared and echoed in his ears.

It seemed to take forever before the visions and sounds topped, bringing him back to Hogwarts, and before the pain ceased, leaving him with residual pain and the cold sting of his horcrux’s incessant hold on his magic from before.

Harry knew the warmth on his nose was blood, his scar on fire. He blinked at the large droplets of blood that dotted the floor and his hands. The stone beneath his hands was cracked as though something had slammed into the stone, shattering it. He was trembling. He forced his head to turn to Draco who looked terrified.

“I…I think, if anything happens to the horcruxes, I feel it,” Harry said quietly, throat strained. “It affects mine.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

When clicking shoes echoed in the corridor, they both whipped their heads around just in time to see a familiar asymmetrical overcoat flutter around a corner. Harry’s heart pounded and his stomach dropped.

Grey had just heard that Harry was a horcrux.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Harry flinched as he heard glass shatter out in the sitting room through his ajar door. His arms tightened around the knees tucked to his chest, sat at the foot of his bed and leaning despondently against the wall.

“Severus, please.”

“No, Albus!” Severus interrupted sharply. “You do not get to tell me to calm down! You do not get to tell me everything is okay! You do not get to tell me anything except what is happening because I know you know!”

“I don’t, not for sure,” Dumbledore said, voice gentle in clear hopes of calming Severus down.

“What is happening to my son?” Severus yelled and Harry’s eyes fell shut at the tremor he could hear in his father’s voice, hidden to anyone else by his loud rage.

It was quiet. Harry could imagine the expressions on Severus’ and Dumbledore’s faces.

“Albus,” Severus growled.

Harry opened his eyes and rolled his head on the wall with his heart pounding in his ears to look at the crack of his bedroom door, waiting for Dumbledore’s response.

“My son was in pain, coughing up blood, and destroyed a stone floor,” Severus said through gritted teeth. “Tell me why.”

There was another heavy pause before Dumbledore finally answered, reluctance heavy in his tone.

“I believe Voldemort’s horcrux is no longer a separate entity within Harry,” Dumbledore said and Harry’s stomach twisted painfully. “I believe it has grown strong enough to intertwine completely with Harry’s soul, connecting Harry to the entirety of Voldemort’s soul.”

Harry swallowed thickly at the explanation and his arms tightened again around his legs. He’d already come to the same conclusion himself.

“What does that mean for removal and destruction?” Severus asked, voice forcibly even, and Harry knew his father was desperately reaching for an answer he already knew didn’t exist.

“I believe Harry and the horcrux have become inseparable,” Dumbledore replied, regret bleeding into his words. “As Voldemort’s soul is damaged, Harry’s will be as well.”

Severus’ agony at the revelation was palpable in the silence that followed. Harry’s chest was aching, his heart ready to explode with painful despair.

“What else?” Severus said eventually, voice low and tight.

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“What else?” Severus repeated. “What else could it be? What other explanation is there?”

Harry let his forehead fall against his knees, pain pulsing in his chest for his father. He’d resigned himself to the knowledge that he’d likely have to die to defeat Voldemort one day, but even he thought he’d have more time while Severus had so desperately searched for another way. Whether he’d believed another way existed or not, he’d wanted Severus to hold onto that hope and now…

“I am afraid there is no other explanation,” Dumbledore said quietly, sadly.

“There has to be,” Severus said sharply, full of quiet but heavy desperation. “You cannot stand there and tell me the only explanation is that my son is going to die, that he has to die!”

Dumbledore said nothing. What could be said? They all knew what it meant. They all knew the search for his survival was over because Voldemort had to be defeated. The prophecy was proving it couldn’t be circumvented.

“And Grey?” Severus continued when Dumbledore didn’t respond. “He knows about Harry now. He’s a clear danger. I want him out of this castle.”

At that, Harry jumped off his bed and hurried out to the sitting room. “You can’t get rid of him.”

Severus and Dumbledore turned to him.

“He knows you are a horcrux,” Severus argued. “I will not allow him near you with that knowledge.”

“You can’t, he’ll hurt you,” Harry replied, shaking his head.

“There is nothing he can do to me.”

“There is!” Harry said loudly. “He knows something about the Dark Mark!”

Severus frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

Harry sighed heavily, committed now to revealing more of what had happened in the forest. “Grey told me he’d kill you and everyone else if we removed him from Hogwarts. He said he’s wanted to kill you for a long time, that he wanted to kill every Death Eater because of what happened to his sister and that I was supposed to on Halloween. There is something he knows about the mark, something we don’t know.”

“I don’t care what he thinks he can do to me—”

“I do!” Harry shouted, eyes burning at the mere thought of Grey doing anything to Severus.

“He knows you’re a horcrux.”

“Yeah, he does, and getting rid of him won’t stop him from knowing,” Harry told him. “If you get rid of him, we have no idea what he’ll do with knowing.”

Severus stared hard at him, obviously wanting to keep fighting.

“Dad, please,” Harry pleaded.

Severus continued gazing at him for a long while, emotions flashing through his eyes and across his face. “Albus, please leave us.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore said softly and, sending Harry a look full of sad regret, he left.

Neither Harry or Severus said anything, only continuing to stare at each other, Severus looking more and more broken while Harry’s own heart shattered into mirroring pieces. Severus, surprisingly, broke the moment first as his eyes fluttered shut and he sank onto the sofa. His head dropped into his hands. There were no sounds and no movements, but Harry knew Severus was falling apart, just barely managing to hide it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how much he meant to Severus, he knew what he’d done for Severus by accepting the man as his father. He knew how much losing him would break Severus.

Harry walked quietly over to the sofa and gently sat next to his father. There was nothing he could say that would make Severus feel better because there was nothing he could say that would fix things because things couldn’t be fixed. So, he said nothing and just leaned against Severus, laying his head on his father’s shoulder.

When a shudder ran through Severus, they still said nothing.

They just sat.

“Damn it, I think I left my notebook at Dad’s,” Harry said as he came to a stop, digging through his bag. He huffed at himself, looking up at Ron, Hermione, and Luna. “Go on ahead. I’ll just meet you there.”

His friends nodded and continued on to the study hall while Harry turned to head back down to the dungeons. He pushed his way into Severus’ quarters and walked over to the coffee table, gazing down at it with a sigh and a frown.

It was uncharacteristically cluttered, strewn with books piled on top of each other with some teetering on the table edges. Some even had folded, torn pages from careless use, so unlike Severus. The stacks had only been growing in the past couple of weeks since his horcrux-induced collapse in the corridor. Severus had been tearing through his books with even more desperation to find a way to save Harry from the horcrux. Harry had seen his father’s frantic researching, watching the man with his heart breaking every time as Severus stayed up later and later, reading well into the early hours. He’d even woken up once and found Severus asleep on the sofa, a book still open in his hands. He’d just made his father a small breakfast and coffee, and they hadn’t mentioned it.

Harry sighed sadly and started digging through the books, searching for his notebook. He finally found it after shuffling aside several books and picking up another, finding it half covered by yet another book. He pulled his notebook out and made to drop the book he held only for the open pages to catch his eye. He frowned as he read.

Despite the success of Hogwarts’ establishment within the wizarding world, all four Founders experienced great tragedy in their lives.

Rowena Ravenclaw, for example, lost her daughter in a spontaneous murder-suicide after she ran away for unknown reasons to Albania, after which Rowena grew fatally ill—

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together.

Albania?

He found himself remembering Lily and James say they’d discovered what Voldemort had done in Albania, but then he also remembered the train ride to school back in September before the attack. He remembered Luna telling them about her trip to Albania, and the village legend she and her father had learned.

Mind racing, Harry dropped the book and hurried out of his father’s quarters, making his way up to the study hall where his friends were waiting. He ran into the hall, hesitating when he found Grey to be one of the supervising professors, glaring at the man before walking over to his friends and sitting across from Luna to keep Grey in view.

“Hey,” Ron greeted dully as Harry sat. “We’re working on that Charms es—”

“Forget Charms,” Harry interrupted, looking at Luna. “That story you told us on the train about the haunted forest in Albania. Who were the people that died?”

“No one really knows for sure,” Luna replied. “There are only rumours.”

“Was it Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter?” Harry asked, bringing Ron and Hermione’s attention to them.

Luna tilted her head curiously. “That is the theory Daddy believes.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“He overheard her fighting with the Bloody Baron once when he was a student,” Luna told him.

“Wait, what?” Ron jumped in. “What do you mean he overheard her and the Baron?”

Luna looked at him oddly. “The Grey Lady, she’s Helena Ravenclaw and the Baron is the one that killed her.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped at her.

“Neither like to talk about it, of course, and she tends to avoid him,” Luna added.

Harry shook himself. “Why were they in Albania?”

“I don’t know,” Luna said with a small shrug. “You can try and ask her though, like I said, she doesn’t like to talk about it. She might not tell you.”

“Why do you want to know?” Hermione wondered.

“Lily and James said they figured out what Voldemort had done in Albania, and they have a horcrux,” Harry explained. “It just seems odd that Albania keeps coming up.”

“It would help fill in You-Know-Who’s timeline with the horcruxes,” Ron said thoughtfully.

“She might be in Ravenclaw Tower still,” Luna told them.

Harry drummed his fingers thoughtfully before nodding. “Let’s go.”

They all packed up and followed Luna up to Ravenclaw Tower. Luna answered the riddle and they filed into Ravenclaw common room. They looked around while Luna went to ask fellow Ravenclaws if they’d seen the Grey Lady and Harry’s eyes found the statue in the centre of the huge room. Harry approached it, taking in the gentle features of Rowena Ravenclaw before his eyes moved up to her head where a stone diadem sat, the eagle wings making the arms with its head in the centre and a teardrop gem hanging down onto her forehead. Along the bottom of the wings, ‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure’ was inscribed in delicate script.

His forehead furrowed with curiosity. The gem looked familiar.

He quickly opened and dug through his bag until he found his sketchbook, pulling it out. He flipped through the pages until the found the right one. He gazed at his drawings of odd shapes and colours, eyes drawn to a blue teardrop gemstone before they drifted back up to the statue.

“Tempting, isn’t it?”

Harry’s head snapped to his right at the voice, finding the Grey Lady next to him, also gazing at the diadem.

“I was so tempted.”

Watching her, Harry realized the Grey Lady had only ever appeared tormented and full of despair in all the years he’d known her. He glanced at the statue and back at her.

“Why were you in Albania?” he asked gently.

Her eyes remained locked on the diadem for a long while before she finally turned to him. “I’d wondered when you would come with your questions.”

“Why wait?” Harry asked, puzzled that she had apparently known what was going on all along. “Why not come to us, to me?”

“You had to be ready,” she told him simply. “What do you need to know?”

“Why were you in Albania?” Harry asked again.

“I was running away,” she said, a sad sigh behind her tone. “I was jealous of my mother and I stole her diadem. I wanted its power. I wanted to be better than her, be out of her shadow. I was ashamed though. I couldn’t face her so I ran.”

“And the Baron?” Harry asked, vaguely noticing Ron, Hermione, and Luna joining him.

“Mother had grown ill, though I didn’t know,” Helena explained. “She knew of his…affection for me and thought he could convince me to return. He’d pursued me for years. I’d always rebuffed him. I did so again and he killed me in a rage before killing himself in his guilt.”

“What happened to the diadem?” Harry wondered.

“I had no idea until the boy with the funny name came back after he’d graduated,” Helena replied. “He’d asked me about this as a student as well. He came back and he found me, thanked me for telling him my story.”

She had to be talking about Voldemort.

“How did you know what he’d done?”

“I could see it,” Helena said and Harry looked at her in confusion. “You would be surprised what we ghosts can see and feel in living souls. We exist in the realm of souls. His soul was incomplete and I could feel the wounds he’d inflicted on it. ‘Twas not difficult to understand what he’d done.”

Harry felt his stomach clench at the idea that ghosts could see their souls. Gazing at Helena, he swore her look turned knowing, touched with sympathy.

“Did the other Founders have items like your mother’s diadem?” Harry asked, pushing aside his worries over his own soul now Voldemort’s horcrux was consuming it.

Helena turned away from him, back to her mother’s statue. Her face had hardened.

“Helena, please,” Harry pleaded when it seemed she didn’t want to say anything more. “We’re trying to destroy them.”

Helena’s head bowed, shame and sadness wafting from her.

“You can make it up to her by helping me,” Harry told her. “The diadem won’t hurt anyone again. We can stop Tom from hurting anyone else, but you need to tell me what the other Founders had.”

Helena turned to him, a silvery tear trickling down her cheek. “You already know of Godric’s sword and I only know about Helga. Salazar was long gone by my birth. Helga had a goblet. I know nothing about what became of it.”

Harry glanced down at his sketches, staring at the partial golden disk he’d drawn. It could be a goblet base.

“That’s it,” Helena said and he looked up at her, seeing her eyes move from his drawings. “Destroy them. Fix our mistakes before they destroy you.”

“We will,” Harry promised. “Thank you.”

She said nothing, just turning back to gaze at Rowena. Harry glanced at his friends and they turned to leave, heading towards the common room door. Ron, Hermione, and Luna had stepped out onto the staircase landing, and Harry was about to follow when Helena stopped him.

“Harry Potter,” she said and he turned back to her. “You have similar wounds on your soul as he did, but they’re not quite the same. You can heal if you destroy that which infects you. Destroying him does not have to destroy you.”

She gave him a poignant stare, making him mumble, “Right,” before he watched dumbly as she drifted away, disappearing through a wall.

“So…”

It was a couple of days after his conversation with the Grey Lady and he was in detention with Grey…again.

Harry glared, his arms tight across his chest, as Grey spun a chair around to sit in front of him on the other side of the desk. A smirk had Grey’s face twisted as the man mirrored Harry, sitting back and folding his arms.

“You’re a horcrux.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“What are the others?” Grey asked sharply. “How many are there?”

Harry scoffed. “You’re mad if you think I’m telling you anything.”

Grey hummed, staring oddly at Harry. “So, you don’t want to save that bastard you call a father?”

Harry stiffened at the not-so-subtle threat. “Nothing I say will stop you, but, please, try do anything to him. I’d love to see what he’ll do to you.”

Grey leaned forward, eyes flashing as his smirk turned more sinister. “I don’t mean save him from me, but you have no idea what I want to do to him, how long I’ve wanted to.”

“Why?” Harry snapped. “Why him? What could he have possibly done to you?”

“He gave her to them,” Grey spat and Harry kept himself from reacting. He remembered what he’d read in the case file and could easily place Severus in the situation’s position Grey was implying he’d been in. “She begged him to help her, to let her go. She was on her knees, clutching to his robes, and he just kicked her away, told those animals to take her.”

Harry felt a bead of sympathy for Adeline Moreshire and for Severus. He could guarantee his father remembered what Grey was talking about and carried excruciating guilt, just as he did about everything he had done as a Death Eater.

“Now, tell me, how does a monster like that trick you into loving him?” Grey sneered.

Harry hardened and glared again. “Easy. He saved me and didn’t abandon me to die. Funnily enough, Lily and James apparently didn’t make the bar hard to reach.”

Grey glowered at him and Harry could see him trembling with rage. Harry just watched him, tense, unsure how far Grey would go.

“Tell me what you know or Snape dies,” Grey growled.

“No,” Harry ground out. He concealed his startled jump and swallowed thickly when Grey suddenly stood, leaning in close with his palms on the desktop.

“No matter. They all deserve to die anyway. Only right you’re the one to kill him,” Grey said lightly with another sneer. “And don’t worry. You’ll talk eventually.”

“To you?” Harry scoffed again. “Not bloody likely.”

“No, not me. I get the rest of them,” Grey said, the satisfaction in his voice making Harry’s eyes narrow suspiciously again. Grey glanced down at his wrist where a watch sat before he looked up with another smirk. “Enjoy your family while you can.”

Harry’s glare was furious.

“Detention is over,” Grey told him. “You’re dismissed.”

Harry clenched his jaw and snatched up his bag from the floor, storming from the Defence classroom. He was vibrating with rage and a touch of underlying fear. His magic was rolling with the emotions and he clenched his fists tightly as he walked through the corridors, fighting to keep the magic contained. When a familiar sharpness pierced into his core and wrapped around his magic, he winced just before coughing hard as the horcrux made his chest and magic constrict.

He was so distracted by the coughing fit and the blood it left spattered across his palm that he hardly noticed the whispering of the students he passed on the way to the Great Hall. He started noticing, though, as the coughing stopped, leaving behind the cold, piercing pressure ripping at his magic and core, and as he entered the hall. He slowed as he entered, frowning as he saw all the eyes on him, weird looks on every face and whispers exchanged.

Confused and uneasy, Harry walked over to his friends at Gryffindor table, dropping on the seat next to Hermione and across from Ron.

“What did I miss? What’s up with everyone?” Harry asked, reaching out to grab some dinner. When neither Ron or Hermione said anything, Harry looked up at them with another frown. Both had expressions full of concern. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, Potter!”

Harry turned at the shout, finding a group of Death Eater Slytherins.

“Quite the lie you’ve kept up all this time,” Theodore Nott sneered. “Were you all in on it?”

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together.

“You knew?”

“Did you know?”

Students started shouting through the hall and Harry frowned when he spotted the Daily Prophets they all held. He turned back to his friends.

“What are they talking about?”

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before Hermione slowly handed him a paper. Harry unfolded it and his heart dropped with dread.

Potters Alive! And They Want Their Stolen Son Back!

Harry’s eyes flew up to the staff table, instantly finding Severus. His father’s eyes were blazing with anger and terror, and he was white. When Severus’ eyes flickered past him, Harry turned and glowered at Grey standing in the doorway, twisted smirk firmly on his face.