Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It all started the day after Harry destroyed Tom Riddle’s Diary.

He figured it was due to the stress, or even the Basilisk Venom that had almost killed him, or maybe the ink from the Diary had gotten into his bloodstream and was poisoning him.

He didn’t know, all he knew was that he was going crazy.

Crazier than normal for a wizard, he figured.

During his final exams for the year, which he didn’t get off even wrapped up in bandages and having saved the school, Harry heard someone whisper the answer to a particularly hard question into his ear.

When he looked up there was no one close to him and he frowned as he leaned back down and went back to work.

This continued whenever Harry would struggle with a question, and occasionally stop him from putting down the wrong one.

It was incredibly disconcerting, but the answers the voice gave definitely felt correct, so he tried to just accept it as it was and hope that his insanity wasn’t going to get him to fail his tests.

Maybe for once the voices in his head were correct. It wasn’t like the questions it was answering for him were ones he would have been able to answer anyway, so he shrugged and decided that it wasn’t worth making him look insane again in front of the school, like the whole Parseltongue debacle earlier in the year.

He sighed when he had finished the exams, relaxing on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, having earned it from the older years for having saved Ginny and all the students from the Basilisk, with Ron and the now unpetrified Hermione sitting next to him.

“How do you think you did on your Transfiguration exam, Ronald?” Hermione asked, and Harry could already hear her getting ready to express disappointment at whatever he said, which made him grin.

“I mean, it’s Transfiguration, it’s bloody mental that they expect us to remember all of that on top of all the other exams!”

“He means that he’s completely failed, huh, Hermione?” Harry asked, laughing while Ron blushed a deep red and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Harry! Ronald needs to start taking his education seriously! What about you Harry? Surely you were listening in our study group?”

“I had trouble with some of the answers at first, but I think I got them right.”

“Oh? Like which ones?”

“I was confused by the question about conjuring food.”

“That’s easy! My mum can conjure food from thin air, easily!”

Hermione sighed and shook her head, “No, Ronald, she can’t. I think that was a trick question. We haven’t covered that yet in McGonagall’s class, so I think that she put it on there to trip students up and make them have to try harder. She’ll probably disregard it for the final score.”

“Do you think you got it right, Hermione?” Harry asked, looking over at her with a frown.

Hermione looked down at her lap, “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think she’d ask anything about Conjuration since that’s easily sixth year Transfiguration, so I had to leave it blank. I looked it up later, and the one the question was asking about was-”

“The Principle Exceptions to Gamp’s Laws of Elemental Transfiguration.” Harry said under his breath, though the way Hermione’s gaze snapped to him made Harry feel a little colder.

“Harry, how did you know that? Are you actually getting interested in Transfiguration?” Hermione was simultaneously excited and probably a bit miffed that Harry had stolen her thunder in answering the question.

“I must have read it in a book before. Probably when we were looking into the Chamber, or maybe last year when we were studying Flamel?” Harry knew he was lying. He had never heard of Gamp’s Law before, he had no idea what it was, but the voice did. It had easily given him the answer to the question, and that was slightly frightening.

Hermione seemed to accept the answer, though she was looking at Harry out of the corner of her eye with a faint suspicion while Ron was staring at him like he was brilliant.

When he got his test scores back, Dumbledore called him to his office, and Harry already knew what it was about.

“Sir, Professor McGonagall said you wished to speak with me?”

“Ahh, yes Harry, please sit down. Lemon drop?”

Harry held a hand in front of him politely as he sat, “No thank you, Professor.”

“So Harry, I’m sure this year has been very difficult for you.”

“I’d say that’s an understatement, sir.”

Dumbledore laughed warmly, his blue eyes twinkling merrily, “That’s perhaps quite true, Harry, regardless, I have a feeling that you know why you’re here already. Am I correct?”

Harry nodded, ‘You think I cheated on the exams.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “I do not. The quills were very well enchanted with Anti-Cheating charms, unless you’ve invented a brand new form of cheating, which, considering the number of students Hogwarts has taught across the centuries, I highly doubt, then you did not. Besides, I know you are an honest young man, and if you were cheating, I highly doubt you would make it so obvious as this.”

Harry sighed, slumping down in the chair, “Please tell me I didn’t get the scores I think I did, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled at him, curiosity gleaming on his elderly face. “Normally a student would be ecstatic to receive a perfect mark on every test, except, it seems, you. Why is that, Harry? Do you have something you think you should tell me?” Dumbledore stared at Harry with that tranquil smile, eyes locked on his and Harry felt something uncomfortable in his head, leading him to reach up and rub at his temples.

The longer that Dumbledore stared the more the headache grew, until Harry could barely think, and then it suddenly vanished as the feeling of cold steel dropped around his mind and he could breathe again.

“Curious.”

Harry gasped for breath, “Sir, what was that you just did?”

Dumbledore reached into his desk and pulled out the remains of Tom Riddle’s Diary, and Harry felt a strange bubbling feeling beneath his skin closest to the destroyed Diary as he looked at it.

“Do you have any…peculiar feelings when I show you the Diary, Harry? Anything at all?”

Harry didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t sure how he would even describe it, and though he trusted Dumbledore, that voice was telling him not to tell him about it.

“I think there’s something wrong with me, Professor.” Harry admitted, and the voice grew angry before it retreated, leaving behind a feeling of resignation, and the cold steel feeling surrounded his mind again.

“What do you think is wrong with you, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, and Harry suddenly realized that his smile was much less authentic than he had initially assumed. His blue eyes were no longer glittering with mirth and merry, instead they were exacting and focused and Harry was worried they could see right through him.

“I was able to answer the questions on the tests because the answers just appeared in my head. When I was struggling with them, or about to put down a wrong answer, the correct one would just come to my mind, like a magic 8-ball.” Harry suddenly sure he needed to lie to Dumbledore, which made him incredibly nervous.

“Magic 8-ball?”

“Sorry, muggle toy. You ask a question, shake the ball, and a dice with certain phrases on it gives you a random answer through the window. It’s just a toy, but that’s what it felt like. The answers just popped in there and I knew they were right.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Curiouser and curiouser.” He said, and Harry suddenly had an image of Alice speaking to the Cheshire Cat in his head from the cartoon he had watched once as a child when Aunt Petunia was being rather nice to him. Then the phrase “We’re all mad here.” popped into his mind alongside the image.

Harry was rather hoping that he was not in fact mad, and there was a perfectly normal magical explanation for what was happening to him.

“Well, as the quills were very well enchanted, we have no reason to discredit your scores, unless you’d like to take the exams again?”

Harry shook his head, “Please no! I don’t think I could do another round of tests, sir! I’m not Hermione!” Harry cried out.

Dumbledore laughed again, and this time Harry could tell it was authentic, whatever he had been looking for in Harry and his answers he was satisfied. “You are certainly not Miss Granger, Harry. Ah look at the time! I should probably let you finish getting ready for the Express. But do promise me you’ll keep me informed if anything changes over the summer? I do worry about you, especially at your Aunt and Uncle’s home.” He leaned forward and placed the test results in front of Harry.

“Of course, sir! I promise!” Harry smiled softly. Dumbledore was like the grandfather he had never known, and knowing he worried about him made Harry feel special, though he was sure that Dumbledore made everyone feel that way, he could still tell himself that in Dumbledore’s eyes, Harry was something important.

Harry stood up, taking the parchments in hand, and began to make his way towards the exit, looking back to smile at Dumbledore as he waved his goodbye for the year.

“Also, do remember to study for next year, Harry! I’m sure that you’ll find it an illuminating year.” Dumbledore said, hand raised in farewell as Harry descended the moving stairwell.

He deftly avoided any questions by Hermione on his test scores, claiming that he had simply done okay, and that Dumbledore had wanted to make sure he was okay after the battle against Tom Riddle last month before Harry left Hogwarts.

She seemed to accept his answers, but the voice whispered unhelpfully that she was lying, and she knew his scores were perfect.

Harry tried to repress the urge to respond to the voice out loud at the moment, which was now only popping up occasionally, usually when Harry was being asked something, or when Harry was deeply pondering something, or when it seemed it would get the biggest rise out of Harry.

It never directly responded to Harry’s questions, but Harry was slowly beginning to realize the voice– or as it seemed to call itself; the intellect – had preferences and opinions of its own.

The ride on the Express was uneventful, mostly filled with Hermione bemoaning all the tests and homework she had missed while petrified, which made Ron exclaim that she was mental, while Harry simply rolled his eyes. Leave it to Hermione to miss tests while being petrified by a basilisk, the girl was not normal, that much was for sure. Harry didn’t even think the Ravenclaws were as stereotypically nerdy as Hermione was, but she was one of his best friends, and he cared for her, even if she made him absolutely mental with her obsession with studying .

Sometimes Harry believed it wasn’t even the learning she liked, just the act of studying itself. She would probably pretend not to know something and study it again if she didn’t have access to any new information. That sounded like something Hermione would do.

Harry chuckled at the idea, and watched Ron and Hermione bicker about random things and Harry felt comfortable about it all. He intended on soaking in the normalcy of being around his friends before he returned to the drudgery of the Dursleys for the summer.

When he disembarked from the Express and returned home with the Dursleys, Harry’s summer began in earnest.

The past two years they had become…tolerable to deal with. He figured knowing he would only be there for a few weeks made them less inclined to be miserable all the time.

And for the most part, as long as he avoided them, they avoided him in turn.

The days passed like that, with Harry often wandering around Little Whinging, simply to avoid being trapped in 4 Privet Drive.

And the summer continued in that quiet normal, interspersed with letters coming and going to and from him to Ron and Hermione.

The voice didn’t make many appearances over the summer holiday, but the few times it had, Harry found its insight to be rather…helpful.

The first had been a time that Aunt Petunia had invited a guest over from one of her groups she had joined during the year.

She was a seemingly pleasant woman, which was a surprise, but when the voice told Harry that she was stealing Petunia’s jewels while she claimed she was in the restroom, Harry found he couldn’t stop himself from telling Petunia.

He had been right, he had found out quickly, and Petunia ended up threatening to call the police if she ever showed her face in their home ever again, and after the voice spoke once more Harry informed Petunia that the woman had hidden a few heirlooms in her panties, which led to Petunia actually calling the police and thanking Harry profusely which set Harry on edge at first, but Petunia was nicer to him after that.

And the next time it had been with Vernon. Harry was setting the table for breakfast while Vernon was going through paperwork for Grunnings, bent over the table in deep thought. Petunia had quietly explained to Harry that Grunnings annual budgets had been messed up, and thus their operations expenditures were in chaos, leaving Vernon to attempt to figure out what had happened.

As Harry placed down Vernon’s plate of eggs, the voice whispered once more, telling Harry that Vernon’s accountant was embezzling the funds by funneling them through a shell company into an offshore account and told Harry exactly where on the page the proof was.

Harry couldn’t stop himself from taking a hold of the page where the voice pointed out the information, ignoring Vernon’s immediate protest.

“You’re being embezzled.” Harry said, voice distant as he was listening to the voice explain it to him.

“Give that back right this instant!” Vernon shouted, the vein in his temple bulging.

“Your head accountant’s numbers here, they don’t match up to this invoice here. And here’s an expenditure for an office supply company, but there’s no invoices detailing any supplies received. Duntaggsist Office Supplies… Don’t Exist Office Supplies. Well, someone thinks he’s clever.”

Vernon immediately stopped shouting and looked at the boy, and Harry handed the paper back to his uncle, pointing to the entries on the invoices that the voice had shown him.

Vernon picked up the phone and within the hour, he was heading to the police station with the information Harry had given him, making Harry join him in case he had any more information to give.

The head accountant had fled the country by the end of the day, though after that Vernon found less and less to complain about involving Harry.

The third major time it had spoken up was when Dudley was hanging out with some of his friends, and it told him that Dudley was thinking about his male friend in a less than “proper” way, leaving Harry to nearly spit his tea out as the voice relayed far more information about his cousin than Harry had ever wanted to know.

It also advised Harry to comfort his cousin, but to be prepared for when Dudley would inevitably  try and assault Harry for saying it.

And like the voice had claimed, when Harry brought it up later that evening in the backyard, Dudley swung for him, but Harry moved and Dudley fell to the ground, and Harry could see he was terrified of Harry knowing the truth.

The voice didn’t even have to prompt him, Harry couldn’t help it, he sat down next to Dudley in the grass and said he wasn’t going to tell. That he’d keep it a secret.

Dudley had been quiet for a while, both of them sitting in the grass while the stars began to appear as the sun set, and then Dudley admitted it, and asked Harry what he should do.

Harry was at a loss for words, and the voice was not being helpful and instead was silent.

So Harry shrugged, and admitted to Dudley that he didn’t know what Dudley should do, that that was up to him, but confided in Dudley that Harry had similar feelings for boys.

They didn’t hug or anything after the confession, and simply talked about the stars which Harry had learned in Astronomy. They just watched the night sky until Petunia called them in for dinner, having watched them talk and not bringing it up.

After that Dudley seemed far quieter and didn’t harass Harry as much, claiming that he still had a reputation to uphold, which Harry nodded sagely– Oh of course, can’t have people knowing you’re actually a decent bloke underneath it all, can you?

After those instances, Harry found that suddenly the Dursleys were not as cruel to him any longer. They weren't the easiest of people to get along with still, but things began to change.

Vernon took him to go get new glasses and some fitting clothes. Not much, but things that were his . 

Petunia took out an old photo album of her and his mother, and while she didn’t say anything, she had left it where Harry would see it, and didn’t say anything when he looked through it, which Harry knew was her way of showing approval.

And Dudley was actually nice to him at home, just not around his friends, and Harry quickly learned how to simply avoid them when they were around.

It was perhaps the most normal summer he had ever had, which made Harry worried. It meant that something was going to happen at school that year, he knew it. Predictably the voice was silent on that matter.

The voice was quiet for nearly the rest of the summer.

When Vernon’s sister Marge showed up, Harry could quickly tell that it was going to be as miserable as he had expected the whole summer to be. Even Vernon didn’t seem to like Marge either, but she was his sister, and he fulfilled his duty as younger brother against his own desires.

Marge did not like Harry, and never had, and made sure to let him know at every turn.

He waited and waited for the voice to tell him something that would either get rid of her, or make her less inclined to harass him, but the voice stayed stubbornly quiet.

And it seemed like all the miserable personality that the Dursleys should have heaped upon Harry throughout the summer had seemingly been shoved off onto Marge Dursley instead.

Her dogs were terrors and tried to attack Harry whenever they could, and Marge seemed to encourage it.

She was foul tempered and fat, and Harry realized that no matter how bad Vernon had been, his sister Marge was far worse. If this was how his older sister acted, was it any wonder that Vernon became the man he did?

Their mutual disdain for each other came to a head one day on August 6th when Marge insulted his parents, and he blew her up like a balloon.

As soon as it happened, Harry shouted at the Dursleys that she was going to be fine and the Ministry would handle it and stormed up to his room, terror filling his system.

He had performed underage magic in front of Muggles. Two of the worst offenses he could do. Oh god, they were going to expel him, snap his wand, and throw him in Azkaban! Harry didn’t know what to do, until it hit him. He had to leave. He had to get out of here while he still could. He couldn’t let them take his wand from him.

He had to get to London, maybe he could get to Gringotts before they caught him and he could get out enough money to help him live on the run for a while.

Harry was used to living off of little, he could do it. It’d be miserable, but he could learn to deal with that.

It was better than losing his wand and being thrown in Azkaban.

He packed his trunk as fast as he could and bolted out of 4 Privet Drive with Hedwig’s cage under his arm, listening to Marge scream in the distance, setting off car alarms and causing dogs to bark, though it seemed most people didn’t even notice it, safely ensconced in their homes after nightfall.

He didn’t know where he could go. He couldn’t get to the Burrow, he had no way of traveling there, and even if he did the Ministry would probably know to look for him there.

Maybe he could get to the Granger household, Hermione would be able to help him. Surely there was some hidden bylaw or statute that could help Harry not be arrested.

Harry sat down on the curb of the road in the dark, staring at his shoes as he tried to come up with some plan that didn’t involve his wand getting snapped or him being thrown into Azkaban.

It was pitch black outside now, and the only light that was near him was an old street light that shone above him, flickering occasionally– ominously.

Harry knew he was being watched, before the voice even had a chance to speak. He could feel the eyes on him like searchlights. The gaze of whoever was watching him was heavy, filled with a weight that seemed to press against Harry’s body with enough gravity that Harry could feel it move along his body.

And that’s when he saw the eyes. Wide, gleaming, staring unblinking.

The teeth, sharp and catching on the light, then the light went out, and the beast was cloaked in shadows, but Harry knew it wasn’t gone, then suddenly a low light in the distance reflected off its eyes and it was staring at Harry still, a growl in its throat.

Wizard.

The voice spoke up for the first time in weeks only to deliver a single word of information. 

Yes, Harry was a wizard.

No. He’s a wizard.

Harry frowned as the voice seemed more insistent this time, the voice exasperated, and suddenly more clear than usual, perhaps the fear was making him receptive to it.

Ask his name .

“You’re a wizard, aren’t you? What’s your name?” Harry scrambled out, following the voice’s advice.

The light flickered back on, and the beast was illuminated once more. It was a shaggy black dog the size of a bear, slowly stalking towards him.

Harry reached to pull out his wand to defend himself–

Stop. Don’t move. Stay still.

Harry wanted to disobey, but the voice seemed quite insistent on this, so Harry complied.

Relax. Show him you mean no harm.

Harry took his wand out slowly, causing the dog to growl more viciously but Harry placed it on the ground in front of him and slowly backed away, hoping the voice didn’t just get him killed.

The dog looked down at the wand, and then back up at Harry, and Harry placed his hands out, showing he had nothing in them.

The dog leaned down to sniff at the wand and then pushed it back towards Harry with its nose, eyes still locked on him.

Was it telling him to take his wand back?

Harry slowly began to reach for the wand, slowly enough to immediately pull his hand back in case the dog snapped at him and after a minute he had his hand around his wand and quickly snatched it back to his chest.

The dog was watching him so closely that Harry felt incredibly terrified about moving at all.

It slowly, so slowly that Harry could feel each thud of his heart vibrate through his bones, until the bear-sized dog was right above him, eyes only inches from Harry’s own, and if it wanted, he could probably maul him before he even was able to get a spell out.

Harry swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly dry, and the dog opened its mouth– oh god Harry was going to die!-- and Harry closed his eyes to avoid his fate.

Then he felt something warm and wet slide along his face, and he opened his eyes again to find the dog sitting in front of him, looking far too pleased with itself.

It leaned in and Harry realized what he had felt was the dog licking him, and Harry couldn’t help himself but chuckle at the feeling of the dog’s tongue scraping across his skin.

Upon hearing him chuckle, the dog’s tail began wagging happily and he began licking Harry all over the face quickly, letting out small barks that sounded like laughter and Harry couldn’t help it. It tickled! He was laughing as well, trying to push the dog away though he found himself almost forgetting what led up to this.

Only once Harry was laughing warmly, and the fear went from his shoulders, did the dog stop and sit in front of him again.

It tilted its head in a way that let Harry know it was more intelligent than a normal dog, and if the voice was right– and it’s never been wrong yet– the dog was actually a wizard.

He tried to recall what McGonagall said about human transfiguration, how the wizard will act like the animal it has been transfigured into unless transfigured back. But this wizard in dog form seemed very intelligent, perhaps it wasn’t always like that?

Harry thought about possibly attempting the spell to change him back himself, but realized he doesn’t know it, nor would he be skilled enough to do it if he did know it. Plus there was the whole; already in trouble for casting magic during the summer in front of Muggles thing he was currently dealing with.

They won’t expel you over a small display of accidental magic. Certainly won’t send you to Azkaban.

The voice said, and Harry felt the urge to hit it if he could, scowling slightly as he glanced up to the right, which was where he decided he mentally viewed the voice before shaking his head. That little tidbit of information would have been great to know an hour ago when he ran away.

The dog laid down and dropped his head into Harry’s lap, nuzzled against him and looked up at him with big watery eyes, snuffling at him pathetically, and Harry knew he couldn’t resist the dog.

“Do you have a family?” Harry asked softly, and the dog shook his head slowly, a glint of sorrow shining in his eyes. “Me either. I have my aunt and uncle, but even if we get along now, I don’t think we’ll ever consider each other as ‘family.’”

The dog stared at him sadly, and snuggled closer to Harry.

“Since we’re both abandoned…do you want to be my family?”

The dog looked even more emotional and nodded, letting out a few small barks and licking Harry’s face and nuzzling against it.

“Fine, come on. I should head home now that I know I’m not going to be expelled.” The dog jumped up, licked Harry’s face happily and ran around a bit, grabbing a hold of Harry’s trunk handle with his teeth, before Harry got up and took it from him, slipping Hedwig’s cage back under his arm, “I got that. You just…try not to look so scary, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will probably have a fit unless you look as innocent as possible, got it Snuffles?”

The dog tilted its head again, mouth twisting into a distinctly amused smirk that looked far too human on a dog and chuffed once before letting out a laugh-like bark.

“Well, you snuffled at me, and I have to give you a name right? You don’t seem to have a collar on you, or a name tag, or a wallet or something, so Snuffles it is. Hey, don’t blame me, I suck at naming pets. If I hadn’t just read ‘A History of Magic’ and liked the name, I would have probably called Hedwig Snowy or something.” He ran his fingers through the dog’s matted fur, trying to gently untangle a few knots as they began walking.

“So since you’re actually a wizard, at least according to the voice in my head–” Harry suddenly felt like he could be honest with the dog-wizard, like he could share that little fact with him, either because he trusted him, or more probably because Harry believed he wouldn’t remember it much after he was transfigured back. “You’re going to have to act more like a normal dog around my Aunt and Uncle, they don’t like magic. I might not even be able to keep you there, since I just blew up my aunt and she floated off, probably towards London if I had to guess, at least a couple of miles away by now.”

Snuffles let out a few laughing barks and nuzzled up against Harry’s hand, letting it rest on his head happily, tongue slipping out and grazing along Harry’s palm, “I didn’t mean to! She just made me so angry. And I just started getting along with the Dursleys too… They’ll probably go back to hating me again.”

Harry sighed as he continued back towards 4 Privet Drive.

His feet began to hurt and he wished he hadn’t run so far to begin with, but at least he had a dog now, that was kind of cool. He’d always wanted a dog, and now he had one, even if the dog was probably a transfigured wizard.

They’d deal with that eventually.

Soon enough he was walking up the drive towards the front door, and knocked on it when Snuffles began to whimper and get scared, and Harry looked down at him. The dog suddenly looked terrified, and was shrinking himself down to hide himself, “What’s wrong Snuffles? Hey, is something the matter?” Harry asked, reaching down and trying to pet the dog.

The dog looked up at him, eyes big and wet, and whined softly, and Harry could tell something was setting him off. He heard multiple voices walking towards the front door and realized there were people here, “Snuffles, hide in the backyard, I’ll come see you after I figure out what’s going on!” He gestured behind the house for Snuffles to follow and the dog gladly did as he said, vanishing behind the house in moments, far quieter than Harry would have assumed given the dog’s size.

As soon as he saw Snuffles vanish into the darkness, the front door opened up and Petunia was standing there, a pinched smile on her face as she quickly pulled Harry back inside. “There you are, Harry!” Her tone was pleasant and kind, but Harry knew she was absolutely terrified.

“Ahh, is that Harry?” A new voice said, smooth and far too pleasant, almost slippery, and Harry knew the kind of person it belonged to immediately. Vernon often criticized people with that kind of voice on the news often; Politicians.

The most untrustworthy of all people, Vernon liked to say. Never trust a bureaucrat, lawyer, or someone pushing an agenda, and certainly never trust a politician.

As Petunia ushered Harry to the living room, Harry placed Hedwig’s cage on top of his school trunk, and then stood in the archway and recognized the voice it belonged to; Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic.

Harry tried to calm his heart rate back down. God, he should have listened to his gut instead of the weird voice in his head. He was going to Azkaban, he was going to be thrown in prison!

“Ahh, Harry! I’m so glad to see that you’re safe! We were very worried when we arrived and your family informed us you had left. I’m sure you must have been quite upset, but I don’t think I need to tell you that you shouldn’t be wandering around after dark.”

Harry looked down at his feet, “Sorry, Minister.” He managed to get out.

“It’s all fine, my boy.” Cornelius said, reaching out to shake Harry’s hand, which Harry hesitantly shook back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I see you already know who I am.” 

Harry nodded, “Pleasure is all mine.” Harry said mechanically, not wanting to look bad in front of the Minister for Magic, who probably had the authority to send him to Azkaban right away.

“Excuse me, Mister Fudge, would you like some tea? I have a kettle ready.” Petunia said, and Harry could see her falling into the housewife routine to ease her frayed nerves.

“Oh, that would be lovely, thank you.” He said, without paying much mind, instead still smiling at Harry placidly. 

It felt fake, or forced, but then again, that seemed to just be how politicians looked in general, never at home in their own skin, always inauthentic. Vernon had made a joke once about them secretly being reptiles wearing human skin, which made Vernon laugh loudly at the absurdity of it, though Harry suddenly thought of that as he watched Fudge move.

Cornelius sat down on the sofa, while his Auror guards stood behind him, looking around terrifyingly. Vernon was sitting in his armchair near the window, while Dudley was standing next to him, and Petunia came by, nervously handing the Minister for Magic a cup of tea, which he tapped with his wand before he brought it to his lips with a smile, and Petunia joined Vernon and Dudley quickly as soon as she had done that, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the room. “Oh, sit! Please!” Cornelius waved his wand and the chair behind him moved up and Harry fell back into it. “Now we should get down to business, Mister Potter, we at the Ministry received a notice about an hour ago that you had performed underaged magic, and in front of Muggles no less. I assume I don’t need to tell you that I’m quite disappointed to have heard that, Mister Potter.”

Harry looked down at his feet, suddenly cursing the voice for getting his hopes up. They were going to snap his wand, he could feel it.

“We’ve already sent a team to retrieve your aunt, she’ll be untransfigured and her memory of the event shall be obliviated. Shall she be returned here, or…?” He glanced at Vernon, a polite smile on his face still.

Harry interrupted, “Perhaps it’s best that she be sent back home. It was her final night here after all.” He said, unwilling to spend another night with the woman, unless it were seriously possible for him to be heading to Azkaban, in which case he could probably learn to deal with her to avoid that. Vernon and Petunia both seemed very on board with the plan, nodding gratefully, while Dudley seemed rather confused about the whole situation.

Cornelius nodded, “Perfect. We’ll let them know to deposit her at her home, along with her belongings. Now Harry, I must say I am quite disappointed in you, running away after something like this.” Cornelius sat back on the sofa, crossing his legs, “It’s dangerous for someone of your fame to be out there alone, at night, considering current events.”

“Current events, sir? I’m not quite sure I follow.”

Cornelius glanced at one of his guards, then back at Harry with a guarded expression which quickly was papered over with a politician’s smile again, “Well, that’s not important right now. I have come to simply check in on our Boy-Who-Lived, and ensure he’s safe.” Fudge’s voice was tense, with a forced pleasantry, and Harry could immediately tell that there was something he wasn’t telling him. It was that kind of voice someone got when they realized they said something they shouldn’t have and were now trying to weasel their way out of answering the question.

“Sir, pardon me for interrupting, but am I not going to Azkaban?”

Cornelius laughed loudly, and the two Aurors behind him cracked smiles, “Oh goodness no! Harry, if we sent every underage witch or wizard to Azkaban for blowing up their aunt, the prison would be full before morning! No, no, I’m simply going to let you off with a warning. After all, you’ve done so much for all of Britain. I came to let you know that in person, after all I have always been looking for an excuse to meet the famed Harry Potter.”

“Oh, thank you Minister. Truly.” Harry said, ensuring he was polite.

“No problem, Harry, call me Cornelius, if you please.”

“Thank you…Cornelius.” Harry said, nodding at the man once, which made Fudge smile brightly, “Now, it’s probably in your best interest if you remain here, with your Aunt and Uncle for the time being until the beginning of term. I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of purchasing your school supplies.” One of the Auror’s waved his wand and the remains of dinner on the table vanished and were replaced with a large stack of parcels and books appeared on the dining room table with a snap and a flash. “And I’ve written to Albus to let him know that you’ll be remaining here for the time being. He might be by to see you in the morning. Now, I hope I’ve made myself clear, Harry, it’s for your safety that you remain here in Little Whinging, don’t go wandering the streets at night.” He set the tea cup and saucer on the coffee table and stood with a clap of his hands, that slick politician’s smile on his face as he nodded his head at Vernon and Petunia, “Thank you for welcoming me into your lovely home, I don’t get to see inside Muggle homes very often, they’re quite quaint. Please do keep an eye on young Harry, he’s very important, though of course you know that.” He said smiling widely, and Petunia and Vernon nodded once.

“Well, we must be going now, Harry, I hope that we see each other again soon, under better circumstances. Good evening, Mister and Missus Dursley, Harry.” He walked up to his guards and they turned on the spot and then they were gone with a crack, Disapparating away.

As soon as they were gone Harry slumped into the chair as all the energy in his body was sapped away.

“Who was that?!” Vernon asked, clearly upset.

“Minister for Magic.” Harry said, unable to bring himself to turn in the chair, “Wizard’s Prime Minister.”

“And he knows you?” Petunia asked, hand on Vernon’s shoulder, absently massaging it to distract herself.

“I’d be more surprised if he didn’t know who I am.” Harry answered honestly, taking a deep breath and making himself sit up.

“What’s that mean?” Vernon demanded.

“Why’d he call you ‘boy who lived?’” Dudley spoke up, looking at Harry carefully.

Harry sighed, “Boy-Who-Lived. That’s what wizards call me. Because I lived when no one else ever did.”

“Speak English, boy.” Vernon said, rolling his eyes.

Harry turned and faced them, “When I was a baby, the night before I came here, my parents were murdered by a man named Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Wizard in decades.” He heard Petunia gasp and saw her flinch a bit at the name, “He is known for a powerful spell he used often on his many victims. The Killing Curse. And before you ask, the name is quite literal. Kills you. No one has ever survived it. Except me.” Harry felt so weird telling this story to the Dursleys of all people. He had always assumed they knew who he was and what had happened, after all Lily was Petunia’s sister.

“How’d you survive?”

“No one knows for sure. I mean I was only a year old. All they know is I lived through it, and when I lived, it rebounded– backfired– and killed him instead. That’s where I got my scar from.” He lifted his hair and showed them the scar they had seen hundreds of times. “Where his spell hit me.”

Petunia and Vernon were silent for a while, while Dudley looked like he was thinking deeply about something.

Finally Petunia spoke up, “Does…it hurt?” She asked, “The curse.”

Harry shook his head, “Painless. Instant.”

She sighed, frowning down at the carpet, “That’s good.” She said plainly, and Harry could hear something that he was beginning to assume was grief in her voice.

“So you’re what… some kind of hero?”

“I didn’t do anything, so I wouldn’t call myself a hero, but the wizarding world considers me a celebrity of sorts. It’s honestly horrible.”

Dudley snorted, “What? Being a celebrity is horrible?”

Harry frowned, “Yeah, actually it is. Everyone assumes I want money and fame and power, or that they know me because they know the story. The amount of witches and wizards who just grab me and try and touch my scar is upsetting, and everyone treats me different than a normal boy, like I’m some kind of weapon half the time that can solve their problems, or a piece of glass that will break at the slightest touch the other half.” Harry said, saying it out loud for the first time. “Everyone hears my name and thinks of how they can use me to make themselves more famous, or has a vendetta against me and wants to kill me.”

“Who’d want to kill you ?” Vernon asked, brow furled, “You’re a child!”

“I’m thirteen. Besides, I’ve almost been murdered twice in the past two years.” Harry said without thinking.

“Twice?” Vernon exclaimed, incredulous. “What could you have done that would get someone to try and murder you twice?”

“I lived.”

“Oh.”

“Well what happened to the people who tried to kill you?” Dudley asked, arms crossed in front of him.

“Well the first one was my teacher. He had Voldemort living on the back of his head– magic, please don’t ask– and I ended up killing him when he attempted to strangle me to death. The second one, back in May, was a living Diary with Voldemort’s teenage self copied inside that controlled a giant snake that kills you when you look in its eyes.”

“Oh, like a basilisk?” Dudley asked, grinning widely.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Oh, there was one in one of my games. Usually it just petrifies you, turns you to stone.”

“I’m surprised you knew, but you’re right, but it’s when you look at its eyes through a reflection it petrifies you.” Harry explained, “One of my best friends was petrified last year for almost half the year until our Matron cured her.”

“Is she alright?.”

“She’s fine now. Lives with her family in London, they’re dentists.”

Vernon nodded, “Respectable job. Good pay.”

“They’re in France on holiday right now.” Harry said absently.

“Well, I guess I’ll just ask this before we pretend that this evening never happened. Marge will not be harmed, correct?”

Harry shook his head, “No, the Ministry will make it like it never happened. She’ll have no memory of it, and won’t know a single thing about it.”

Vernon nodded, “Well, good, that’s good. I was getting sick of her anyway.”

Petunia let out a sharp laugh, and then covered her mouth pretending to mask it with a quick cough. “And to think I had a lovely pudding prepared…”

“Oh, I’ll still have some!” Dudley said, hurrying to the kitchen, while Harry rolled his eyes. Pudding did sound good, but first he’d have to move all his school supplies to his room. He stood up, sighing heavily as he went to work.

He loaded as much as he could into his arms, and began his trek up the stairs, while Vernon remained sitting in his chair, obviously deep in thought. It didn’t take too long for Harry to bring it all up, including his trunk and Hedwig’s cage, but then he remembered Snuffles.

He went back down to the living room and went and stood in front of Vernon, “Uncle Vernon?”

His Uncle looked up at him, looking suddenly older than Harry expected, “Yes, boy?”

“I was wondering…I found this dog…”

Vernon rolled his eyes, and Harry was prepared for the shouting, but was surprised when it didn’t come, “Yes?”

Harry untensed a bit, “Well, I was wondering if perhaps I could keep him. He’s really smart, already knows commands and everything.” Harry said, realizing he was ‘bargaining.’

Vernon sighed, “You’ll take care of him?”

Harry was astonished, he had expected Vernon to shout at him, “Yes, he’s very intelligent.”

“Make sure he’s clean before you bring him inside, and he’s only allowed to sleep in your room.”

“Wait, really?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“No no! No. Thank you, Uncle Vernon!” Harry was smiling brightly. This summer was easily turning out to be the best so far.

Harry rushed out the backdoor, and flicked on the light, “Snuffles? Are you still here?” Harry called, not too loudly as to startle the neighbors.

He heard a sharp chuff next to him and found the huge dog sitting only a foot to his right, causing Harry to nearly jump in fright, “God! You’re too quiet when you want to be!” He placed his hand on his chest, before he started grinning. “I thought I would have to beg and promise to do all the housework for the rest of the summer, but Uncle Vernon just agreed to let me keep you without any shouting at all! That’s great! He did say I had to clean you before I could bring you inside though.”

Snuffles grinned up at Harry, that almost too-human grin on his canine face as he jumped up and licked Harry’s face, “Stop that!” Harry said, chuckling, “It’s getting late, and I’ve had a long day, so I want to get you cleaned up so we can go to sleep.”

Snuffles seemed to understand and obediently sat back down as Harry went and got the hose.

Petunia came out carrying two towels, a brush, and some bottles, and handed them to Harry, “We got these a few years ago. We were going to get Dudley a puppy, but then we realized he would probably get tired of it quickly, so we didn’t.” She said, offering a lot more information than she normally would have before, “They’ve been sitting in the garage unused for a while now.”

“Thank you, Aunt Petunia.” Harry said, gratefully surprised by her kind gesture.

“Harry…” She frowned at him, hands fiddling with her bracelets, “My sister, Lily, your mother. She didn’t suffer, right? When she was killed…You said it was painless.”

Harry nodded, frowning as well, “From what I’m told, yes. You don’t have time to feel pain.”

“I’m glad. She didn’t deserve to suffer.”

“Why did you two never get along?” Harry asked, looking up at his aunt.

Petunia let out a short laugh, and shook her head sadly, “We did actually get along for a long time. Me and Lily were as close as could be as sisters. We did everything together, we were each other’s confidantes. Even when she became friends with that scary kid, the wizard, we were still close.”

Harry didn’t know that. He had always assumed that Petunia and Lily had always been at odds, “What happened?”

“Hogwarts happened.” Petunia said, bitterly. “Her letter came in…” She paused before she continued, her voice sadder than he was used to hearing from Aunt Petunia, “And mine never did.”

Harry looked down at Snuffles who was glancing between Harry and Petunia, obviously trying to figure out what was going on. Harry reached down, placing the supplies on the grass and resting a hand in Snuffles’s fur.

Petunia sighed sadly, “Did you know I wrote Dumbledore when Lily got her letter? I asked him…begged really, to be admitted to Hogwarts. I thought that maybe I could learn to be a witch…” She laughed, and it was a sad sound, “He wrote me back telling me that Hogwarts only accepted witches and wizards, and I wasn’t one. I didn’t want to be apart from her, you see, and suddenly we weren’t inseparable anymore. She was special…And I wasn’t.”

Harry felt like maybe he shouldn’t have asked about it, but Petunia was continuing, “I was so hurt, Harry. I felt like I had been abandoned, left behind by my sister. We were supposed to be inseparable, and then she separated us. I became angry and bitter. If I couldn’t be special, then I could be the most normal I could ever be. If I couldn’t be amazing, then perfectly normal was my goal. I wasn’t nice to her while she was in Hogwarts. She’d come home for holidays and tell our mother and father about all the amazing and wonderful things she’d see and do, and I’d be left there, listening to it and wishing I had been there with her. So I became cruel. If I was mean to her, if I pretended I hated her, then it didn’t hurt so bad. I would stop being so jealous and stop feeling abandoned, because I would try and convince myself that I never wanted it to begin with, that I hated her.” She took a small breath, “I never got to apologize for not being there for her. For telling her to leave and not see my family again.”

“Why’d you tell her that?” Harry asked, trying not to let his emotions paralyze him.

“Because she told me about… Him.”

“Voldemort?”

Petunia shuddered, “Please, don’t say it. She told me about Him and how she was going to fight against him, she told me when she brought your father over for the first time…last time really. And I told her to get out and not come back.”

“Why?”

“I am a Muggle, Harry.” She said simply, “I have no way to fight back against someone like Him . What could I have done besides worry myself into an early grave. I had just gotten married, had a child on the way, and my sister…the one who abandoned me for magic tells me an evil wizard is gaining power to kill everyone like me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She released a sharp laugh again, “I did the only thing I could do. I looked away.”

“But-”

“Harry, I have no magic, no power. I can’t stop a madman, I just want my family to be safe, and spending every day wondering if he would come to my house and torture and kill my family because I got involved in my sister’s war…It was something I couldn’t do to myself. Lily was always the strong one, you see. And then she was dead. Murdered in her own home. And then you were given to us.”

Harry didn’t say anything, hand tightening in Snuffles’s fur.

“And every day you were a constant reminder of her and your father, that I would never be magic and special like Lily. And it was a constant reminder of how dangerous your world was. How me and Vernon could never stand against it. All it would take is a single spell and everything we loved would be gone. Then you started showing magic. You became the face of every horrible fear and nightmare me and Vernon had, nightmares of coming home and finding Dudley murdered like Lily.” Petunia sighed, “It doesn’t excuse the way we’ve treated you, Harry. Nothing does.”

Harry nodded, “You had your reasons…”

Petunia nodded as well, “It doesn’t excuse it though. And we don’t expect you to forgive us.”

Harry looked down at Snuffles who seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you and Uncle Vernon for what you put me through,” Petunia flinched at the words, but her eyes were steel as she nodded, “But I know I can…try.”

Petunia nodded more, they both knew this was the best they could do.

“Aunt Petunia?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

She sighed, hands running over her dress as if to smooth out invisible wrinkles, “We never really knew the kinds of things you were going through at that school. When Lily went all she talked about was the magic, the broomsticks, the games, her friends, the castle. She made it sound like it was all out of a fairy tale. So that’s what I assumed your time there was like. And I was jealous. And Vernon assumed so because that’s what I told him was the case. But no one ever told us what you were going through, and I’m disappointed to say we never asked. It was disgraceful of us Harry, and you most certainly didn’t deserve how we treated you on top of all of that. It felt like during this summer I was suddenly able to see you differently…I can’t explain it. Remember when you saved my jewelry from that horrid Cathy Iverness? After that I couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair I had treated you all these years. And Vernon told me he felt the same after you helped him with the auditing for Grunnings. Even Dudley’s been talking about how you’re a pretty good cousin when you’re not around to hear him.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling softly to himself. He’s always dreamed of the Dursleys one day being nice to him. It had finally come. It was hard to forgive them all the horrible things they did, but he could see now they had truly seen how wrong their behavior was.

“You’re my nephew, Harry. I should have shown you love when my sister wasn’t able to.” She paused, “I can’t promise I’ll not be a rather dull person by your standards, but I do promise I will try to be decent for you.”

“I can accept that.”

“Do make sure he doesn’t track dirt in or you’ll have to scrub the mud out yourself.” She said, hands held carefully in front of her dress, and Harry tried not to notice the few tears that were welling up at the corner of her eyes, which she quickly wiped away, “Thank you, Harry, for listening.”

Harry made a small noise in return, and Petunia went back inside without a word.

Harry turned on the hose, and put his hand under it, then he reached up and took his glasses off and placed them next to the backdoor.

Bending over, he aimed the hose over his head and hissed when the cold water hit his skin. After a few moments, Harry removed the water and grinned at Snuffles, “There, that way you’re not alone in being freezing cold.” He said, though Snuffles tilted his head in confusion. ‘I’m not freezing cold’ Harry could see him thinking and then Harry turned the hose on the dog who barked and growled as he was coated in the cold water, before he tackled Harry to the ground, licking along his face in protest to Harry’s cheap trick.

Harry laughed warmly as he stood up again, and reached over and turned off the hose, sitting in the wet grass with Snuffles as he grabbed the bottle of dog shampoo that Petunia had given him.

“At least it’s anti-flea…I don’t really get what’s the difference between human shampoo and dog shampoo, but here we go.” He popped the lid and squeezed some of the goo into his hands. It was warmed than he expected, probably because it had been sitting in the garage during the summer, and he was freezing cold now, but still it felt nice on his now cold skin and he built up a small lather and then started running his hands through Snuffles’s wet fur, trying to work out some of the knots and ensuring that he was scrubbing down to the dog’s skin.

The dog made a nice whine and splayed himself across Harry’s lap, soaking his jeans with his wetness, but Harry couldn’t help but smile. He truly had always wanted a dog, and now he had one, as long as he ignored the fact that there was a higher than likely chance that the dog was actually a wizard. He could ignore that for now as he reached over and carefully poured more shampoo directly onto Snuffles’s fur trying not to drop the bottle in his slippery hands.

He placed it down and went back to work, and slowly he was making progress.

At first when he started, the shampoo wasn’t lathering much, and Harry realized it was all the dirt and grime stuck in Snuffles’s fur, so when the lather started forming heavier, Harry knew he was making progress.

Snuffles, for his part, laid there across Harry’s lap and luxuriated in the boy’s grooming, letting out small little yips of enjoyment as Harry continued.

Harry didn’t say anything, instead just let himself think and appreciate Snuffles’s company, and they both seemed to appreciate that.

Soon enough the suds of the shampoo’s lather were building up into a great foaming mass, and Harry turned the hose on slightly, wishing he could warm it with magic, and began to wash Snuffles off carefully, working his fingers through the fur and untangling a large portion of matted knots in the shaggy fur. Snuffles, besides shivering from the water, was relaxed and let Harry clean him with the occasional lick on the face and glance from those intelligent eyes.

Harry pulled up the next bottle; a nice conditioner. He looked down at the dog and imagined him with fluffy and shiny fur and the thought made him smile brightly, ‘You’re gonna look great, Snuffles!” He said as he poured a large handful onto Snuffles’s back and began to spread it around, trying to work it down into the roots of his fur.

Snuffles went back to lazily luxuriating in Harry’s grooming, and let out a trembling groan that sounded very appreciative.

“Feels nice, right? I’ve never cleaned anyone before… Especially not a wizard trapped as a dog.” He said, chuckling and Snuffles looked up at him lazily, though his eyes were a bit more complicated now, and Harry was sure it was curiosity. “You’re wondering how I know you’re a wizard, aren’t you?”

Snuffles nodded, and Harry smiled. It was such an un-canine-like movement, proving that Snuffles was indeed a human deep down.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone what I tell you?” Harry had already mentioned it offhandedly before, but Snuffles had probably not been listening before.

Snuffles nodded again, letting out a small bark that Harry figured he’d interpret as a ‘yes.’

“For the past few months, since I defeated the basilisk and destroyed Tom Riddle’s Diary, there’s been this voice in my head sometimes.” He paused, watching the dog’s expression which didn’t change much, “Tom Riddle was Voldemort, in case you didn’t know. His Diary contained a living memory of him from when he was at Hogwarts. It was able to possess you when you talked to the Diary. I destroyed it with a Basilisk fang after I killed the one in the Chamber of Secrets, long story I’ll tell you later.” He said at the incredulous look that Snuffles gave him. “But ever since then this voice occasionally whispers things to me, telling me things I have no way of knowing. Thanks to it I got perfect marks on my final exams. I don’t know what it is, or what it wants with me, but it hasn’t been wrong yet. When I saw you, it told me you were a wizard. That’s why I was trying not to get scared, actually. It told me to stay calm, so I did. Then you pushed back my wand and I knew I could trust you. If you wanted to hurt me, especially as a wizard, you would have done it when I placed my wand down.” Harry smiled as he continued working the conditioner through the fur, scratching whenever Snuffles would seem to respond nicely to his fingers scrubbing and massaging. He laid out one of the towels so that he could rub conditioner into his stomach fur.

When he had finished working the conditioner into Snuffles's back and sides, the dog eagerly rolled over onto his back onto the towel, exposing his stomach, and Harry smiled warmly. He was such an eager dog.

Snuffles sprawled out across the towel, tongue hanging out without a care as Harry poured more conditioner into his fur and began to continue his work.

It was nice and simple, an easy rhythm that allowed Harry’s mind to focus on Snuffles and not whatever was going to happen in his life. Things were looking up for the first time in a while, and he had the voice and Snuffles to thank for that.

He wasn’t thinking much when he began to massage the conditioner lower on Snuffles stomach before he remembered that Snuffles was a wizard, just trapped as a dog, and when he glanced down and saw…that…He blushed brightly and tried not to think about the fact that since Snuffles was really a wizard, that meant he was practically naked in front of Harry, or that Harry looked at his…parts with interest as his abdomen heated up in a way he wasn’t quite used to.

He turned his head and focused on Snuffles’s face which was watching him curiously and Harry brushed the thoughts aside and went back to work on making sure all his new dog’s fur was soaked with the conditioner.

Once he was finished with the conditioner, even making sure to coat Snuffles’s tail in it and the soft fur under his jaw, the dog stood up carefully, obviously making sure not to wipe off too much conditioner onto the towel.

Snuffles made a small snort and licked Harry’s face a few times, and Harry smiled. He was quickly getting used to having a dog now, and he didn’t want to lose him.

“I know I’m probably crazy, but the voice hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

Snuffles shook his head, gently headbutting Harry’s shoulder as if to tell him to “not worry about it.” They sat there for five minutes while the conditioner soaked into the fur, as the instructions on the bottle had said..

“I promise I’ll look into finding the spell to change you back to a human when I get back to Hogwarts, okay?”

Snuffles shook his head.

“You don’t want me to?”

Snuffles shook his head then stopped and bounced it slightly. No, but yes? Harry had no idea what that meant. Snuffles seemed to understand that though, and went over to the hose, dragging it over to Harry in his teeth, and before Harry could move to go turn it on, Snuffles was over there, using his paw to dexterously turn the wheel without much trouble.

Harry watched him, astounded, as Snuffles bounded back eagerly and presented himself to be washed down.

Harry decided that he would still look into the spell, because he didn’t feel it was fair that Snuffles was stuck being a dog, even if he didn’t seem to mind. Harry would rather know how to save him, and that way if something happened, he knew what to do.

He gently hosed off Snuffles, ruffling the fur to make sure that he had gotten out all of the conditioner, and when the fur felt smooth but not slick he knew he had succeeded.

“Felt good to get a nice bath, huh? Sorry I can’t use magic to make the water warm, but I did just get into trouble with the Minster over that.” Snuffles flinched slightly at the mention of the Minister, but quickly pushed past it, and Harry knew the dog was trying not to show that he was scared by the Minister.

“You’re not in trouble, are you, Snuffles?” Harry asked softly when he grabbed the towel and began to dry off the dog in front of him.

Snuffles’s eyes were a bit more manic than they had been before, and he growled lowly, and Harry knew that it wasn’t a good topic. “I won't ask again, don’t worry, Snuffles.” Harry pretended he was just toweling the dog off, but he wrapped his arms around the dog’s torso, “I’ll keep you safe. We’re family after all. Us outlaws have to look out for each other, right?”

Snuffles moved his head to rest it on Harry’s shoulder and Harry felt safe.

When they finished drying him off, Snuffles looked a hundred times better than before, he shook his fur as Harry had always seen dogs do and his fur was soft looking and far fluffier than it had been when they met earlier that evening. He bounded around, looking at himself in the reflection on the backdoor’s glass. 

When he turned to Harry he was grinning as brightly as a dog physically could, and it would have looked so odd, possibly unnerving, if Harry didn’t know he was human under all that fur.

He ran up to him and jumped up, front paws landing on Harry’s chest as he began to slather Harry in dog kisses, leaving the boy a giggling laughing mess when he finally fell to the grass and Snuffles didn’t stop.

Harry dried off as much of his clothes as he could, and grabbed all the bottles and towels. He wiped off his trainers on the mat in front of the backdoors as much as he could, and watched amusedly as Snuffles did the same.

“Follow me, my room’s upstairs.” Snuffles nodded, and carefully slunk into the house, obviously trying to avoid being seen, something Harry realized he was far too used to doing. He was beginning to think that perhaps Snuffles had been on the run for a while now. He obviously was frightened of the Minister and the Aurors, he had immediately felt their presence and nearly wanted to run away, and as soon as Harry mentioned the Minister, he had changed completely, looking scared and angry, even growling at Harry.

He tried not to be perturbed by his lack of care that Snuffles might have been a criminal as a wizard, but Snuffles the dog was sweet and loving, and Harry knew he could trust him.

He was sure he could hear Hermione lecturing him about being so naive and trusting to a complete stranger, who might or might not be a criminal , but if Snuffles was a danger to Harry, he knew the voice would have told him so.

It had been quiet since then, and Harry assumed it was going to be like most of the summer, only showing up occasionally on its own time, for its own reasons, and decided not to worry too much about it.

He opened the door to his room and Snuffles quickly went inside, running around and sniffing everything, looking eager at the sight of it all. He walked over and turned on the lamp next to his bed for light.

“Sorry it’s not much. Me and my Aunt and Uncle haven’t always been on good terms, but they’ve been better this summer, and you heard Aunt Petunia talking to me earlier.” Harry said, aware he was dismissing how bad it had been. He knew the Dursleys had abused him growing up, but he had never liked to think about it that way. Especially not when talking to other people about it. He tried to pretend it had been normal, and made excuses for them, cheap defenses, but it wasn’t to protect them, it was to protect Harry, so Harry didn’t have to admit to himself that his childhood had been horrible.

It allowed him to pretend to himself that he could be okay in the end.

When he looked at Snuffles, he was rooting around in Harry’s laundry hamper, and when he looked at the boy, there was a pair of underwear stuck around his head, and he was grinning at Harry widely, sniffing the fabric.

“Come on.” Harry said exasperatedly, moving over to take the underwear off his head with a deep blush and toss them back into the hamper. He tried not to think about the fact that he had wanked last night wearing those underwear.

Snuffles headbutted him again, this time the hand hanging at his side, and Harry reached up and scratched Snuffles’s head, “Thanks, Snuffles.” He paused, smiling softly, “I wish I knew your real name.”

Snuffles looked conflicted and then pulled away, moving towards Harry’s desk. Harry had some sheets of blank parchment sitting there with his quills and inkwells and Snuffles stood on his hind legs as he gently took a piece of parchment from the desk and brought it to the floor, and then grabbed a quill in his mouth, and made a small noise as he jabbed his nose in the direction of the inkwell, and Harry caught on to what he wanted to do.

He grabbed the inkwell, and a book so he could place the parchment on the hard cover and held the inkwell so it wouldn’t tip over. Snuffles sat in front of the parchment, deep in thought, then he dropped the quill from his mouth and carefully picked it up with his paw.

It was so bizarre to watch a dog holding a quill like a human, or as close to a human as a dog’s paw could get, and he carefully dipped the quill into the ink in Harry’s hand.

For Harry’s part, he tried not to make any noise. Snuffles was trusting him with information, and he didn’t want to startle him or make him decide to change his mind.

He used his other front paw to roughly hold the page still and slowly started to scratch out text on the parchment.

Snuffles

The name that Harry had given him. Then under it he wrote another name–

padfoot

“Your name is Padfoot?” Harry asked, amazed. He reached up and brushed his hair from in front of his glasses, “Is that your human name?”

Snuffles- Padfoot shook his head and his tongue peaked out as Harry could see the internal debate in his eyes.

He dipped the quill in the ink once more and under the word ‘padfoot’ he started to write another name.

Sirius Black.

He looked up at Harry, and Harry could see the scared look in his eyes, like Harry would recoil at the name.

Blacks are old blood– Pureblood. The voice whispered quietly, and Harry just put the information away to think about later.

“Sirius Black? That’s definitely a wizard’s name. Like the star?” Harry asked, his mind flashing back to Astronomy lessons.

Sirius nodded slowly, carefully keeping watch on Harry’s face, but when Harry simply smiled and knelt down next to the dog, Sirius relaxed.

“That’s so awesome. I wish I had a name like that instead of just plain ‘Harry.’” He said softly, blushing slightly as he grinned at the dog, “Do you prefer ‘Padfoot’ or ‘Sirius?’“

He tapped the name Padfoot, and then Snuffles, and then Sirius.

“So you like Padfoot the most, but like Snuffles? Do you not like me calling you by your real name?”

He picked up the quill again and wrote something quickly, more messier than the names had been; can bt bad memrys.

The writing was messy, and the letters looked jumbled slightly, as if he hadn’t written anything in a long time, while his names were written very slowly and carefully, for Harry’s sake.

Harry was beginning to understand that perhaps he had really meant it when he had implied he didn’t want Harry to try and change him back. It seemed that Sirius had something bad happen to him, and as Padfoot or Snuffles he felt safe. 

Harry nodded, “Sirius, can I hug you?”

Padfoot looked at Harry, trying to determine what Harry was feeling, but decided that it didn’t matter, and moved his head so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry wrapped his arms around the dog, fingers tangling in his fur, letting himself grow comforted by the warmth of Snuffles-Padfoot-Sirius’s body.

He just rested there for a while, and eventually Padfoot began to grow antsy, and Harry smiled softly as he pulled back from the hug, fingers still holding tightly into the fur, “We should probably get to bed. It’s been a long day for me, and I’m tired.”

Sirius made a small bark, staying quiet as to not be too loud in case it angered Harry’s aunt and uncle. Harry stood up, chuckling, and began to strip off his clothes and pulled out his pajamas. When he turned around and began to pull up his pajama bottoms, he noticed Padfoot watching him intensely. “Oh, sorry, I’m not used to having someone in my room when I change.”

Padfoot nodded slowly, still watching him, not blinking, and Harry slowly tugged on the bottoms, trying not to let himself grow flushed at the idea of being watched undress and get redressed, and that it sent a bolt of pleasure through his nerves at the idea of Padfoot watching and seeing him like that.

As soon as he had put his pajama top on as well, Padfoot seemed to calm down and moved and sat in front at Harry’s feet.

“You can sleep on my bed too, if you want. It’s not the biggest, so I apologize if I kick you or anything, Padfoot. I’ve never had someone sleep in my bed with me before, or slept in someone else's for that matter either.” Harry smiled sheepishly, as Padfoot continued to watch him, wide grey eyes gleaming, and he couldn’t help but imagine that they looked proud of him, which made him happy. He knew he was projecting his own emotions onto the dog, since he couldn’t speak, but it made Harry feel not alone and he liked that feeling. He slipped under his covers and offered Padfoot to join him, who stared for a second at the open comforter and then was jumping into the bed and curling into a ball next to him, nearly taking up half the bed, though Harry didn’t mind.

It was incredibly unusual for Harry to have another living being sharing his bed, but he found he didn’t mind. Padfoot was warm, but contrary to what Harry could have expected, considering the summer heat, he wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought he’d be, though he was beginning to sweat.

He wrapped an arm around the dog, and he felt instantly safer. He wasn’t sure what it was about the wizard-in-dog-form that made Harry feel safe, but he liked it, and if things got bad, the voice would advise him on what to do, he was sure of it. “Goodnight, Sirius. I’m glad I found you.” He whispered and then yawned widely, as all of the exhaustion from the day crept up behind him and overtook him. His limbs felt heavy and like jelly and his eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. He slowly reached up and took off his glasses and reached over to place them on the nightstand next to the bed.

And then as soon as he relaxed, he was asleep.

Chapter Text

The month started to go by rather quickly, Harry was surprised to find.

It seemed that the Dursleys really were trying to change as he didn’t feel like a prisoner in the house anymore.

He could go and watch TV when he wanted, and was even allowed to pick the channel when no one else was watching it, and Petunia let him do his schoolwork at the table, with Padfoot resting under the table at his feet.

Dudley thought Padfoot was the coolest thing ever, but seemed to quickly realize he was far more intelligent than a normal dog, and found that slightly off-putting, but he did play with him from time to time.

Vernon even invited Harry to join him to go grocery shopping, or to pick up something he had left at Grunnings.
Harry was sure this was Vernon’s way of trying to tell him he was attempting to include him, but Harry knew the man had a hard time talking if it wasn’t yelling, so he didn’t mind that Vernon didn’t seem to say how he had felt about the whole thing. Aunt Petunia had covered it enough, and Harry was just grateful that Vernon was treating him like a genuine person now.

He would yell at the news, and try to explain it to Harry who simply nodded, finding his understanding of Muggle politics, honestly politics in general, to be rather lacking, and he quickly found he didn’t particularly want to learn, it all seemed so…fake. It made him think of Cornelius Fudge, and it left Harry feeling greasy.

Though he did have to admit, listening to Uncle Vernon yelling at some politician speaking and then turning to ask Harry if he could believe that drivel the politician was spouting out, it made him feel included.

He still helped Petunia with cooking, though she seemed to be less demanding about it, and even made Harry a treacle tart one day saying, she just happened to have the ingredients and didn’t want to get rusty with the recipe, which was Petunia-tongue for her saying she made it for him.

He realized that they all operated better if they all pretended this was just how things had always been, and while it was hard to just sweep all their previous cruelty under the rug, as it were, he could tell they were genuinely trying to be better, and so he let it slide.

Harry often went for runs around Little Whinging with Padfoot at his side, and he found that he enjoyed that, talking to Padfoot while they jogged together, though Padfoot had to wear the collar that Vernon bought for him, due to leash laws. 

Padfoot seemed to dislike it at first, and chose to stay at the house for the first few days Harry went for a jog, but by the third day, Sirius was holding the collar and leash in his mouth, sitting next to the door, and Harry put it on, as loosely as he could and made sure the leash has a lot of slack so Padfoot didn’t feel controlled.

He found a tennis ball that Dudley had lost in the garage once, and he brought it with him when they went on jogs, so he could play catch with Padfoot in the park.

People were usually scared of the big dog at first, but Padfoot seemed to really like the attention he got when he’d act cute, and give people big puppy eyes. Eventually some of the regulars in the park grew used to him, and Padfoot would sometimes play with some of the kids who came up to pet him.

Harry felt happy at the simplicity of it, sitting on the bench while Padfoot was conning a well built man out of his sandwich a little bit away, pressing himself down so that he looked small and giving him big wet eyes as he let out the smallest whimper.

Harry watched the grown man crumble at the sight and give the dog half his sandwich who barked cheerfully and gobbled it down and then let the man pet him before he bounded off back to Harry.

The only problem that Harry had with the whole thing was each day that passed that grew closer to the start of term, Harry grew more anxious.

What was Padfoot going to do without Harry there?

He found himself very worried at the idea of Padfoot all alone. He had quickly learned that Padfoot didn’t like being alone, and if he wasn’t with Harry when he slept he’s cry out and whimper in his sleep, breaking Harry’s heart whenever he heard it.

Whatever had happened to Sirius Black had really hurt him.

They were careful when they were out though, there were Aurors scattered around throughout wherever Harry went in Little Whinging, the voice would point out. As soon as it began to point them out, Harry had been on guard more, looking for the signs. Awkward dress, stiff movements, how their hands would twitch towards their sides at any loud noise.

Once he noticed, it was hard to not notice, and Padfoot noticed them too. He never interacted with any of the Aurors, going out of his way to get Harry and him away from them.

Harry thought back to when Fudge had spoken to him back on the 6th, about how he needed to be more careful due to ‘current events’. Harry had known there was more going on than he was being told, he was always good at figuring that out, but he still couldn’t just go up to the undercover Aurors and ask them why they were stationed in Little Whinging to protect him.

Harry already knew why, it wasn’t that hard to figure out when you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Someone was trying to kill him. He had sadly gotten used to the idea of that, and as long as the Aurors were there, he was sure he was safe, plus he kept his wand on him no matter where he went, and he had Padfoot to protect him, and the voice to warn him.

One day, after his and Padfoot’s morning trip to the park, Vernon looked up at Harry over his newspaper. “Boy.”

Uncle Vernon didn’t call him by his name a lot, it seemed that he just wasn’t good at that yet, but the word, ‘boy’ wasn’t filled with anger and rage anymore, and instead was a simple word meant to get Harry’s attention, “Yes, Uncle Vernon?”

“You should invite your friend to visit. The one with the dentist parents.”

“And the other one.” Petunia interjected, holding a cleaning cloth in her hand carefully.

Vernon sighed, “And the other one. To visit. Petunia and I, we think it would be good that we met your…friends.”

Harry stiffened. He’d never once thought about inviting Ron or Hermione over, how would they do that? “Are you sure, Uncle Vernon? I mean…”

Vernon sighed, “The dentist parents…they’re normal, right? Like us?”

Harry nodded, “Muggles, yeah.”

Vernon sighed, relieved, ‘Then yes, I’m sure.”

“Can you call them to see?” Petunia asked, seemingly invested in this.

Harry shook his head, frowning, “I don’t know Hermione’s telephone number, we only correspond through Hedwig. And Ron, well, his family don’t have telephones.”

“How long would it take you to send a letter to them?”

“If I send it out to Hermione after this with the telephone number, she’ll probably call by the evening when she receives the letter…” He said, thinking about it. It was so odd to think about the fact that he could call Hermione if he had known her telephone number now that he was a member of the household in more than name. The idea of sharing telephone numbers had just…never come up, then again it wasn’t like he would have been able to call before the changes this summer, so it had been a moot point to think of.

“Would her parents be in the phone book?” Dudley asked, eating a bowl of cereal, watching the exchange curiously.

“Would they?” Harry asked, shocked.

Vernon nodded, “If they were dentists then most likely. Do you know their names?”

Harry shook his head, he’d never really been introduced to Hermione’s parents, he’d seen them, shook their hands, but he just thought of them as Mr and Mrs Granger, or Hermione’s mum and dad.

Dudley got up and went and got the phone book, dropping the large tome onto the table with a thud. “What is their last name?” Dudley asked, flipping through the personal and into the business section.

“Granger.”

Dudley made a small hmm and continued to flip through the book muttering out various professions as he tried to find dentists. After a few moments of flipping back and forth through the pages, he found dentists. “Wow, a lot of dentists. Granger, Granger, Granger. Cool! Only two Dentists by the name of Granger. Same number. These are probably your friend’s parents, Harry.” Dudley looked very pleased with himself, and Harry was as well. He had no idea how to maneuver through the phone book, but Dudley did.

He leaned in, grinning, “Prank calling.” And Harry nodded, of course.

“So now that I know their names, let's see if they’re listed publicly in the personal section.” Dudley kept a thumb on the page with their business number and began flipping through the personal numbers till he found the Gs and began scanning through the names, numbers, and addresses on the thin paper pages. “Here we go.”

“Well, go on!” Petunia said, gesturing for Harry to go to the phone, and he quickly got up and picked up the handset from the receiver. Dudley gave him the number from the phone book, and Harry swallowed heavily as he heard the call begin to ring.

It rang twice before the call connected, “Hello, Granger residence.”

Harry swallowed again, “Uh, hi, is this Hermione Granger’s home?”

The person on the other end of the call, her father judging by the voice, seemed a bit more focused now, “May I ask who’s calling?”

“My name is Harry Potter, sir, I’m a friend of Hermione’s from school. Hogwarts.” He said, hoping that this was the right number.

The voice seemed to understand, “Hermione, call for you! A Harry Potter! Says he goes to Hogwarts with you!” He could tell her dad had pulled the handset back from his ear and had covered the mouthpiece with his hand, though Harry could still hear him through that.

Then he heard an equally loud voice shouting, “Okay, dad, I’ll pick it up in my room! Don’t listen in!” and he recognized Hermione’s voice from the times she had shouted at Harry and Ron about something or other.

“She’ll be right on.” Her father said pleasantly, and then he heard a click.

“Harry? Is that really you?” Hermione’s voice was slightly tinny, but it was distinctly her .

“Hermione! Yes, it’s me.”

“Is everything alright? How’d you get my number?”

“Phone book. And yes, everything’s fine. I was actually calling because I wanted to ask you something. A favor actually.”

He heard Hermione adjusting and heard the sound of something plastic hitting plastic, “Hang on a second.” He heard her make a small sound though she must have placed the handset down, “Sorry about that, my hair was getting in the way.” She must have put it up in a hair tie. “I got a piece of paper ready, what do you need me to look up?”

Harry wanted to laugh, of course Hermione assumed he wanted her to look into something, “Oh, uh, actually nothing. I was wondering, well my aunt and uncle were wondering…They wanted to meet you and your parents.” He managed to get out once Padfoot came up and put his head under Harry’s hand.

Hermione didn’t say anything for a while, then he heard her shifting and the sound of fabric rustling. She was probably sitting on her bed now. “I thought that they were… you know…”

“It’s…gotten better actually. Things are…better now.”

“They’re not…abusing you anymore?” She asked, her voice dropping as if to keep it a secret, as she knew Harry didn’t like to talk about it much.

“No, things are actually really better. You should see my new glasses! You won’t have to keep repairing them! Though considering my luck, you probably will when I break them.” Harry laughed. It was so strange to be speaking to Hermione during the summer, especially over the telephone, but it was nice. It helped him realize that they both had grown up in the Muggle world.

“You got new glasses?” Hermione asked, as if that were something she’d never hear, “I assumed if you were going to change then you’d have bought some in Diagon Alley already!”

“Wait, Diagon Alley has a place where you can buy glasses?”

“You didn’t know that?” She asked, and there was the sound of movement again.

“Not at all. I’ve only really gone to the shops for school supplies and that’s it.”

“You’ve missed out on a lot of shops then!”

“I’ll have to check it out more next time I’m there then!”

“But, yeah, I’ll check in with my dad and see when we can set it up. Give me a minute.” He could hear her place the handset on the bed and then he heard her shouting, “Dad! My friend’s aunt and uncle were wondering if you’d want to meet them so me and Harry can hang out together! Is that okay?”

Harry heard her father again shouting back, “Where do they live?”

Suddenly Hermione was back at the handset, “Where do you live?”

“Little Whinging, in Surrey.”

Suddenly he heard the fabric again, “Little Whinging. It’s in Surrey!”

“When did they want to meet?”

Hermione was back again, “When did they want to meet? I know they aren’t taking any patients until I head back to Hogwarts, since we just got back from France.”

“Uh, let me check.” He turned away from the receiver and turned to the Dursleys who were watching intently, “Uh, they want to know when you’d like to meet them.”

“When are they free?” Vernon asked.

“She said they don’t have any patients until September.”

“Ask her if this Friday is good. I can get a nice meal prepared.” Petunia said, already thinking ahead.

“Can you do Friday?” Harry asked, returning to the phone.

Hermione didn’t respond but he could hear the fabric once again, “Dad, they’re saying Friday for supper! Is that fine?”

“Sure thing, sweetie! We didn’t have plans! Is he your boyfriend?” He could hear the teasing in his voice, but it made Harry blush.

“No! Of course not! We’re just friends!” She shouted back, “Sorry about him.” She said to Harry now. “But yeah, sounds great. What’s the address?”

“4 Privet Drive.”

“4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.” He could hear her writing voice and knew she must be jotting this down. “Okay, and what time should we be there?”

He turned to Petunia, “What time should they plan for?”

“Well,” She started, “How about 5? That way you can catch up about the summer, and they won’t have to drive so late after dinner?”

“5 sound good?”

“5 sounds perfect! I’ll let them know! You know, Harry, it’s really nice to hear your voice! I’m glad you called actually. I was just thinking about sending you a letter actually.”

“Yeah, Hedwig’s just got back with a letter from Ron.”

“It’s a lot easier to just call though, isn’t it? I wonder if they could make a magical telephone service. Like the wireless stations. Hmm, I wonder how I would do that. Perhaps charming the receivers? But then each one would have to be manually connected. Perhaps link them to a central animated hub? Charmed switchboards maybe. Have to have an operator most likely. Hmmm.”

“Don’t think too hard, ‘Mione.” Harry said laughing, “Oh, and when you get here I can introduce my new dog!”

“You got a dog?! Wow, Harry, that's incredible!”

“Yeah, he is.” He reached down and scratched behind Padfoot’s ear from just absently petting him.

“I really love talking to you, Harry, but Dad and I were going to head out to the video rental store and pick up some movies for tonight. I was hoping to get there before the afterwork crowd gets all the good tapes. We can talk more later, yeah?”

Harry nodded, though Hermione couldn’t see it, “Yeah, I get that, well it’s been nice hearing you. I guess I’ll see you on Friday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it! Stay safe, Harry!”

“You too, ‘Mione. Bye.”

“Bye!”

“It was nice to speak to you, Harry Potter!” Another voice added, and Harry recognized it as Mr Granger.

“Dad! Get off the phone! I told you not to listen in! How many times do I have to tell you that’s an invasion of privacy!?”

“I just picked it up, sweetie, wanted to make sure you two weren’t exchanging love messages.”

“Dad!” Hermione shouted, and Harry laughed.

“It was nice to speak to you as well, Mr Granger!”

“Likewise, Harry. Well see you on Friday at 5!”

“Can’t wait!”

“Dad, hang up the phone!” Hermione shouted, and then Harry laughed once more

“Fine!” Then the line went dead.

Harry sighed, turning back to the Dursleys who were watching him. “So they said they’d be here on Friday at 5.”

Vernon nodded, “Dentists, huh? Good respectable career.” He nodded as he turned back to his newspaper, and Petunia was heading into the kitchen and grabbing her memo pad to begin planning a dinner for the guests, while Dudley was grinning as he closed the phone book.

“So you actually have friends, huh?” He asked, grinning.

“Yeah, flesh and bone and all.” 

Harry's tone was sarcastic but Dudley just laughed, “Well, I’ll probably go hang out with my friend on Friday, so don’t worry about me.”

Harry didn’t try to get Ron to visit, as the Weasleys had been on a trip to Egypt for the summer due to Arthur winning a lottery at work. Their letters had taken a lot longer to get back and forth, since he had just had Hedwig deliver them to the Owl post in London for international transfer and had them deliver them with an owl of their own when one arrived for Harry.

The rest of the week went by normally, though when Friday rolled around, Vernon and Petunia seemed more nervous than usual, getting dressed up as if they were welcoming one of Vernon’s potential business partners.

Harry put on some of his new clothes, ones that fit him properly, and Dudley had left to hang out with one of his friends.

Around 4:45 Harry was beginning to grow just as nervous as Vernon and Petunia were, pacing between the door and the living room, then sitting on one of the chairs before standing back up and pacing more. 

He’d never had a friend over, how do you do these kinds of things? He felt almost more nervous than when facing Quirrell. Not the basilisk though, that was nerve wracking, but this was a special kind of terror. He wanted to impress the Grangers, wanted to hang out with Hermione as a Muggle, wanted the meeting to be good .

The only problem was that he didn’t know how to do any of that!

It wasn’t until Padfoot came up and pressed against Harry’s side did Harry begin to calm down, fingers tangling in his fur as he forced himself to breathe.

This was Hermione he was talking about! He’d known her for two whole years! They’d faced death together, fought evil together, taken exams together. How could a simple meeting compare to what they had faced together?

When they all heard a car pull up and car doors close they all stood, Vernon and Petunia standing in the living room, stiff as a board, while Harry went to the door. Padfoot moved back down the hall, not wanting to scare the guests with his size.

He made sure to take deep breaths as he waited for them to ring the doorbell, and when they did he opened the door preparing to welcome them in when Hermione launched herself at him, nearly tackling him as she hugged him.

“Harry! I’m so happy to see you!”

Harry grinned widely at Hermione’s enthusiasm as she tightened her arms around his neck, “Hermione, it’s wonderful to see you as well, but I do need to breathe you know?”

She instantly loosened her grip and pulled back, grinning sheepishly, “Oh yeah, sorry, I just got excited! I can’t believe I’m visiting you at your Aunt and Uncles…I never thought I would say that.” She added as an afterthought.

“Hello again, Harry.” A male voice said, and Harry noticed it was Hermione’s father, and then he suddenly remembered his manners.

“Oh, sorry, please come in. My Aunt Petunia has made tea. I can take your coats.” Harry said, smiling widely. This was perhaps the first time he felt excited acting this way.

“Thank you, Harry.” A female voice that he knew was Mrs Granger said, and he quickly hung up the coats on the hooks and led them to the living room, where Vernon and Petunia suddenly looked more nervous than ever.

“Welcome to our home, Mr and Mrs Granger.” Vernon said, smiling politely.

“We hope the drive wasn’t too far.” Petunia added, smiling graciously as they gestured for them to sit.

“It’s a lovely home, Mr Dursley.” Mr Granger said, very politely.

“And the drive was no trouble. Our Hermione doesn’t have many friends, and we’re so happy that she can meet one like this…Outside of… you know.”

Petunia nodded, understanding, “We’re sorry we haven’t had Harry invite her sooner.” She replied, and Harry felt like she might actually mean it. He wanted to believe it at least.

He looked at Hermione who was watching the exchange with a curious glance, and he knew she was trying to figure things out.

Hermione was tanner than she had been at the end of the term, a nice sun-kissed bronze compared to her usual pallor, and she was dressed nicely, but casually, in a soft pink blouse, dark blue jeans, and a small bag hanging over her shoulder, probably with a book or two inside. Her bushy hair was held back in a hair tie that probably would have broken if it had been cheaper, with two soft pink plastic balls attached to it. 

It was so Muggle-like that Harry was a bit taken aback by it. She looked like Muggle teenage girls he’d seen when he and Padfoot would go on their walks, not a witch who was, by all accounts, far smarter than he was.

“Oh, Hermione, I'd like you to meet Snuffles.”

Padfoot slinked out from his hiding place and slowly came up to Hermione, watching her cautiously.

She gasped when she first saw him, though Padfoot instantly tried to make himself smaller, and she realized that he wasn’t going to harm her.

He sat next to Harry, leaning his head against his side until Harry pet his head, and then Padfoot’s tongue lolled out.

“He’s huge! ” Hermione exclaimed looking at the large dog.

“Yeah, but he’s a big softie. Aren’t you, Snuffles?” Harry said, grinning down at the dog who barked quickly, obviously not trying to attract too much attention from Hermione’s parents in case they grow frightened.

“Harry, if your friend’s parents don’t mind, you can show her around the house?” Vernon suggested, obviously trying to appear more normal.

Mr Granger nodded at the suggestion, “Of course! Hermione’s always been a curious girl, nosy even, she’s probably itching to see what her friend’s room is like!” He laughed cheerfully, and Hermione blushed.

“Dad! Stop embarrassing me!”

“Honey, don’t tease her too much, she’s positively anxious about making a good impression.” Mrs Granger said, obviously teasing her just as much as her father.

Hermione was practically red as she blushed, and Harry could tell she wished she had her hair down so she could hide behind it.

“Now remember Hermione, no more than holding hands, okay?”

Hermione spluttered in protest, “Dad! You know it’s not like that! He’s my friend ! Besides, I told you he’s not like that!”

Harry was curious what she meant, but her dad simply laughed, “Go have fun, sweetie, we’ll be here getting to know the Dursleys.”

Hermione nodded and practically pulled Harry away, though she had no idea where she was heading.

“Want to see the backyard?” Harry offered and Hermione nodded, grateful that Harry wasn’t going to poke fun at her as well.

When he opened the backdoor, Padfoot slipped out quickly, running around for a few moments to stretch his legs, and the two of them joined him, with Harry closing the door behind him tightly.

“He’s really energetic, isn’t he?” She paused, and Harry could see her worry through her thoughts.

“Just ask, Hermione. I can see you struggling to bring it up.” 

“Harry…What happened with the Dursleys? I know before they were absolutely abusive to you, and suddenly you’re calling me on the telephone, inviting me over. You have a dog , now! Did something happen?”

Harry wondered when Hermione was going to finally ask, but it was hard to explain. He didn’t feel like telling her about the voice was a good idea. She had been the one last year to inform him that hearing voices was not a good sign, even amongst wizards, and one that seemed definitely intelligent? She’d probably make him go to St. Mungos. No, it was far better to just keep that knowledge to himself. “I helped them with some problems over the summer and they realized that how they were treating me was cruel and have been trying to be better.”

“Just out of nowhere? Suddenly changing their personalities?”

Harry nodded, uncomfortable with the line of questioning, “Yeah, and after I ran away they’ve been actually nice to me.”

“You ran away?!” Hermione asked, then suddenly dropped her voice as she realized that Harry still had neighbors, “Why would you do that Harry? It’s dangerous out there for an underage wizard!”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, ‘kay, Hermione? I was really upset. Vernon’s sister was here for a week and she’s a miserable foul tempered woman who seemingly made it her life’s purpose while here to make me as miserable as possible. Then she started insulting my parents and I blew her up.”

“You blew her up ?!”

“Just like a balloon.”

Hermione relaxed slightly; what’d she think he meant?

“And I knew I was going to get in trouble for doing underage magic and they’d come and snap my wand, and send me to Azkaban. I panicked. I couldn’t let them take my wand Hermione. So I ran away.”

“What were you thinking you were going to do once you ran away?”

“I was hoping I’d be able to make my way towards London, perhaps get my money out of Gringotts, keep it in my trunk and just try and stay away from being seen.” He could see Hermione's furious expression, “I’m not saying it was a good plan, I was really upset and scared, Hermione, okay? Being a wizard is the only thing worthwhile about me.”

Her expression softened and she reached out and hugged Harry, though Harry kept his hands at his side, while Padfoot came up and was pressing his head against Harry’s side. “That’s not true, Harry. You’re a wonderful person. You have far more to offer people than just being a wizard.” She pulled back, though she kept her hands on his shoulders.

He looked to the side and saw Padfoot nodding softly, “Besides being the Boy-Who-Lived, there’s not much reason people even want me around. I know it. If I was just Harry Potter, a random boy, no one would even look at me.”

“I would.” Hermione said, smiling softly, “You’re my best friend, Harry. Okay?”

Harry nodded, though he still felt it was true, he knew it.

“So, enough heavy talk, tell me about Snuffles! When did you get him?”

Harry pursed his lips, “Actually the night I ran away.” He chuckled softly, looking bashful.

Hermione leveled an even stare at him as she looked down at Padfoot, who was doing the perfect impression of a cute dog stare at her, head tilted just slightly, eyes slightly wet, and tongue hanging out.

“You found him while running away?”

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have come back. I convinced Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to let me keep him. He’s really smart.” He avoided bringing up the fact that he was actually a wizard trapped as a dog, he had a feeling that Hermione wouldn’t take too well to that fact, especially since he’d been letting Padfoot sleep in his bed with him every night.

“Why’d you call him Snuffles?” She asked, crossing her arms as she looked from the dog to Harry.

“Well, he was making this snuffling noise when I was thinking of what to name him.” He shrugged, “It just made sense to me.”

“How’d you go from naming your owl Hedwig, to naming your dog Snuffles?”

“Well, for Hedwig, I honestly just picked a name I saw mentioned in ‘A History of Magic.’ Besides, he’s cute as Snuffles! I don’t feel lonely anymore with him around, and playing with him is a blast Hermione!”

Padfoot jumped up and licked Harry’s face a few times, clearly liking the praise, “Stop that, you’re slobbering!” Harry laughed, playfully pushing the dog away from his face, and wiping the slobber off with his sleeve.

Hermione was watching with a smile, “It’s good you have a pet like him. I remember you saying you were really lonely when Hedwig was delivering letters. I must admit, I was really worried when you called me that something had happened. I was prepared to have to get my parents to intervene. I’m glad that’s not necessary.”

“Yeah, they don’t yell anymore, except when Vernon’s shouting at the news, and I get fed often, and I don’t have to do the housework anymore. In fact even Dudley’s nice to me now!”

“Your cousin? The one who bullied you?”

“Yeah, turns out once he can be rather nice, and even funny sometimes, when he wants to be.”

“How’d you achieve that?”

Harry blushed slightly, he wasn’t ready to tell Hermione yet that he had begun to realize that he liked blokes more than girls. “He was dealing with some problems and I helped him by talking to him about them.”

“Well, as long as you promise you’re not just saying that to make me not worry.”

“I promise Hermione. Besides, do you think I could lie to you and get away with it?”

Hermione laughed brightly, “No, you wouldn’t. Let’s go back inside, I want to see your room!”

Harry grinned, “There’s not much stuff there, but sure. Come on, Snuffles!” Harry said, opening the backdoor again and Padfoot slipped in quickly, heading up the stairs to Harry’s room instantly.

“Wow, he’s really smart, isn’t he? You know, I was actually thinking of getting a pet as well! You have Hedwig, and now Snuffles, and Ron has Errol–”

“Well, Errol is more the family owl.”

“Yes, yes, but the point stands. I’d like a pet as well. I was thinking an owl, but maybe a cat?”

“A cat definitely sounds like a pet you’d like Hermione.” Harry said, nodding as he walked past the entrance to the living room, looking and seeing how the adults were doing. They were all laughing at some joke Mr Granger had told, and it seemed like they were getting along relatively well. That was good to see.

He gestured for Hermione to follow him up the stairs and then he quickly went to his room, trying to cover up the marks from where the locks had been before Vernon had removed them as he opened the door more for Hermione. “Here we are.”

“Wow! I’ve never been inside a boy’s room before!” Hermione said as she looked around, “I mean, you know what I mean.” She said, blushing as she looked around and Harry nodded, he understood what she was trying to say.

“I’ll keep the door open so that your parents don’t get worried.” Harry said, closing it enough to give them some privacy but still open enough to not be suspicious.

“Thanks. Sorry about my dad…He likes to tease me. I told him we’re not like that, but he likes to poke fun with it from time to time. I tried to tell him that you’re not into girls like that– Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Harry noticed Padfoot had stopped moving around and looked from Hermione at Harry curiously, Harry tried not to read too much into the look.

Harry stiffened slightly before relaxing, of course Hermione had noticed it already. “How long have you known?”

Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, while Harry took a seat at the desk, discreetly covering up the parchment with Padfoot’s real name on it, as if he was just organizing his desk.

“Since the end of first year.”

“I didn’t even know by then though!”

Hermione laughed, blushing slightly, “You look at a lot of the older boys like how us girls do.”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“No, I just know you. I’m sure Ron is completely oblivious to that fact.”

Harry laughed, grateful it wasn’t super obvious. He wasn’t sure how people would take it. “Well, Ron’s oblivious to most things that aren’t chess, Quidditch, or food.”

“That’s too true! But Harry…you do know that wizards are more accepting of that kind of thing, you know?” She blushed and lowered her voice, ‘Homosexuality.”

Harry felt a bit nauseous hearing her say it out loud. It was suddenly something very real and there and Harry didn’t know what to do with it. Even though Dudley had stopped bullying him, he knew that if people, especially Muggles, knew he was a freak like that, he’d probably get bullied even more.

“I don’t mind.” Hermione reached out and placed a hand on Harry’s that was resting on his knee, and he glanced up at her, feeling grateful that he had a friend like Hermione he could talk to.

“You know Harry, you’d probably like France. It was beautiful! We stayed on the beach and there were these cute boys. French boys, Harry, have wonderful accents!” She was blushing deeply, making her sun-bronzed tan darken on her cheeks. “I…actually had my first kiss with one.” She mumbled at the end.

Harry gaped at her, “Really? Wow! What was it like?” It was in this moment that Harry re–realized that Hermione was almost a year older than him, and it showed right now. Suddenly she seemed so much older than she had moments before in Harry’s eyes.

“Warm…soft. His name was Cyprien. We met on the beach on our first day. His father was the lifeguard for the beach our rental house was on. He was 14, turned 15 while I was there.” She was blushing deeply, but it was clear she was excited to tell someone.

“Wow!”

“I know, right? He was so cute, and he always listened to whatever I had to say and answered all my questions even when I was sure he’d find them stupid! Here, let me get the picture we took together.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small book that Harry quickly realized was a photo album with little seashells glued to it and had a beach theme. It wasn’t a huge photo album, but Harry knew it was Hermione’s. And that alone probably made it incredibly valuable to her.

She flipped through some pages of her and her parents getting onto the plane, one photo of the house they had stayed at, some of Hermione covered in thick white sunblock and wearing a summer dress at a beach. Then she flipped a page and there was a picture of a teenage boy.

She patted the bed next to her, and Harry moved and sat next to her, with Padfoot hopping up behind them and sitting up so he could see over their shoulders.

The boy was cute. Somehow Harry had always assumed Hermione would be into the bookish sort of guys, tall, thin, glasses. Ravenclaw. But she apparently was not.

Cyprien had a dark dirty blond curly hair, blue eyes, and was very tan. It was obvious that he went to the beach often, especially if his father was a lifeguard. He was waving at the photographer, which Harry assumed was Hermione, and grinning widely, with his other hand on his hip. Judging by his physique he was probably an athlete. “Does he play sports?”

“Swim and tennis. Cute, huh?”

Harry nodded, blushing as he openly admitted it. Padfoot chuffed slightly, rolling his eyes but grinning at Harry.

“He was a sweetheart.” She was looking at the picture fondly, she then flipped to another photo of her standing with him next to an old building, “He showed me around the town. That’s the oldest building there. Over four hundred years old! Isn’t it fascinating? We got this lady from the bakery across the street to take a photo of us together. I wasn’t very good with my French but she was complimenting us on being such a cute couple, and saying things about young love. Or at least that’s what Cyprien was saying.” She was smiling brighter now, “Oh and this one!” She turned to the next photo of her lifting up a giant hammer over her head and looking like she was going to fall backwards, “He brought me to a boardwalk. Made me try out the test of strength, as you can see, I’m not the best at it, but he thought it was cute and took a photo. I actually got the photos developed the day before yesterday. I sent out copies of a lot of them to him, like I promised I would. I hope he likes them.”

“I’m sure he will, ‘Mione.” Harry liked listening to Hermione talk about her summer lover. It was cute, and if anyone at Hogwarts deserved to be loved it was Hermione.

“I think he was my first love…” She admitted softly, her fingers running along one of the photos in the album longingly.

She spent the next twenty minutes showing Harry more pictures, not all of them involving Cyprien, there were just as many involving her and her parents. Seashells she had found, sunsets and tourist spots. Harry was happy, but also a bit jealous, though he wouldn’t admit it. He would have loved to go to France and have a summer love like that, but he had to be realistic about it. He would have probably just hung around the beach, looking scrawny and disheveled and no cute French boy would have flirted with him with their supposedly wonderful accents.

Padfoot seemed to notice Harry’s train of thought and laid his head on Harry’s shoulder, licking him once and Harry smiled. Padfoot would have probably had a blast on the beach. That alone would make it worth it.

And who needed French boys when he had Padfoot?

“Harry, dinner is ready, would you and your friend please come down?” Petunia called from downstairs.

Hermione looked up from the photo album, blushing, “Sorry Harry, I didn’t mean to make this all about me.”

Harry waved her off, “You wanted to tell me about your summer trip. I get that. Plus it’d be harder at Hogwarts because you’d have to spend twenty minutes explaining each little Muggle thing to Ron.”

“Exactly! Plus he’d probably make fun of me for being so ‘girly.’” She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think it’s girly to be in love.” Harry said softly.

Hermione nodded, “He was really smart– Cyprien. He treated me like an equal and valued my opinion on everything. He thought me studying and trying to learn everything I could to be cute.” She said, and Harry could see how much the idea of being made fun of for it really was weighing on her.

“I think that’s wonderful, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry. You really are my best friend.” She stuffed the photo album into her bag again and they began to head downstairs to the dining room table.

Dinner was surprisingly delicious, and Harry actually enjoyed himself. Hermione would bring up little things during the meal, complimenting the Dursleys on the food, their house, and so on, and it was clear that even if Hermione was a witch, the Dursleys were charmed by her manners and personality, and it probably helped that they could actually talk to her parents and understand them.

Harry had been worried that the Dursleys and the Grangers wouldn’t get along, but it appeared that the adults had found a rapport and Harry was glad for that.

Towards the end after Petunia brought out her pudding, Hermione spoke to Harry, “Have you gotten all your school supplies already, Harry?”

Harry nodded, “Fudge apparently had them purchased for me.”

“Fudge? As in Cornelius Fudge? The Minister for Magic?”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, that one.”

“He bought your school supplies for you?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged, “I assumed he wanted to make a good impression on me? He is a politician, and I’m the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe he was hoping that if he got on my good side he could use me for publicity or reelection? Isn’t that what politicians do?”

“Always gotta watch out for politicians,” Vernon said, nodding as if it were sage advice, “Almost as slippery as lawyers, they are. Always looking for the best way to advance themselves.”

Hermione seemed conflicted, “Well, I guess that’s true.”

Harry chuckled, “Sounds like Slytherin to me.”

Hermione giggled at that, “Yes, I guess it does! Well, I was hoping to invite you out to Diagon Alley with me when we go next week, but if you’re already done then…”

Harry glanced at Aunt Petunia who nodded, “Well, I mean he only got what’s on the supplies list, you did tell me that I missed out on a lot of shops in Diagon Alley…”

Hermione perked up, “That’s great! You can join us, Ron and the Weasleys were going to meet up with us as well.”

“I can take you, Harry.” Aunt Petunia said suddenly, and Harry turned and looked at her, but she was just nodding, so Harry figured he could ask after Hermione left.

“Great! We were planning on going the day before school starts and I’d be staying at the Leaky Cauldron. We’ll probably get there around 10? 11?” She turned to her dad who was nodding.

Harry nodded, “I’ll be ready then at the Leaky Cauldron!”

They finished up their dessert, and then Hermione was heading off with her parents back home. Petunia had made a good decision by having them not leave too late, so they wouldn’t have to worry about heading home too late.

He waved goodbye to Hermione from the driveway, and instead of feeling a profound sense of loneliness at the idea of her leaving, Harry was okay. He’d see her soon, and in the meantime he’d be able to spend time with Padfoot and figure out what he was going to do for the school year.

When he went back inside, Petunia was standing in the kitchen, looking at Harry. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask her about what she meant.

“Aunt Petunia, when you said you’d take me. You meant dropping me off, right?”

Petunia reached over and picked up a cup she had just washed and began drying it with a cleaning cloth, “I was thinking…Perhaps I could join you.”

Harry would have been far more surprised had she said this at the start of the summer holiday, but he now could see where it was coming from. Petunia was trying to be closer to him, and by extension closer to Lily, his mother. “Yeah, okay. I can bring you to the ice cream parlour there. They have nearly any flavor you can imagine.” Harry said, thinking fondly of Florean Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Petunia nodded, and if Harry had to guess she looked a bit excited.

After that, Harry helped Petunia clean the dishes while she listened to music on the wireless, and Padfoot sat near the table, watching Harry happily.

Once that was finished, Harry decided to head up to his room, and decided that it was getting close enough to the start of school that he should really start worrying about what he was going to do with Padfoot. He couldn’t leave him here with the Dursleys all year, even if they were nice, Padfoot needed Harry, and Harry wasn’t going to leave him. 

He honestly probably needed Padfoot nearly as much, if not more, as Padfoot needed him.

He knew that even though Hogwarts allowed pets, a giant black dog was probably not going to be allowed without trouble. He didn’t think Dumbledore would budge on that one, especially if he figured out that Padfoot was a wizard in dog form.

Perhaps he could smuggle him into the school through his trunk? That could work, Harry thought. He knew the Trunk was bigger on the inside due to magic. Perhaps he could put Padfoot into there when to Diagon Alley, let him out at the Leaky Cauldron, and then have him go back in during the Express. It would be uncomfortable, but he would save some snacks from the Trolley, perhaps slip them in for him.

Harry didn’t know if that would work, but he couldn’t leave Padfoot. He refused to leave him.

Like he had that first night, Padfoot went over to Harry’s desk and pulled down the piece of parchment and had Harry hold the inkwell for him and wrote him a message; will prtect u. love u harry. always. not leaf.

Harry had smiled brightly, eyes tearing up at the words when Padfoot looked up at him proud of his message and Harry hugged him tightly. No one had ever said they loved him and meant it, not in the way that Harry could really believe they loved him. It filled him up like a warmth and Harry knew he'd hold it close to his heart always. “I love you too, Sirius. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Harry smiled as he crawled into bed, unable to stop his smiling as he kept thinking of the words Padfoot had written. The misspelling made it all the more endearing, and Harry truly believed that Padfoot meant it when he said he loved him, and Harry meant it when he had said it back. Maybe more than Padfoot realized. 

Harry lifted his comforter and turned on his side and patted on the bed, "Let's get some sleep together, Sirius."

Padfoot hopped up and laid over Harry’s entire body, looking at him comfortingly and Harry reached out and pet him, feeling calmer. “I’m not gonna leave you, Sirius. I promise. Never.”

Padfoot nodded, eyes wet as he regarded Harry and then closed his eyes as they both fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The next few days were a mess of Harry stressing out and then calming down about school. The closer his trip to Diagon Alley got, the more he grew worried. He had to bring Padfoot with him, Padfoot needed him, and Harry was quickly realizing that Harry needed Padfoot just as much.

The morning of August 31st came around and Harry was nearly sick with nerves. He had explained to Padfoot his plan the night before, and while he seemed hesitant, he eventually nodded.

He had Padfoot try and get comfortable inside the trunk and while it wasn’t super comfortable, Padfoot had seemed grateful for Harry’s desire to stay with him. Harry felt horrible leaving him trapped in there, and was already counting down the minutes until he could let him out.

Now that their plan was in place, Harry smiled, he packed his trunk– Padfoot included– his bags, and Hedwig’s cage into the backseat of the Dursley’s car, and he and Petunia left for London.

Dudley and Vernon had both sent them off, and Dudley even hugged Harry, though it was a simple side hug and told him to stay safe. 

Vernon simply nodded at him, and Harry knew that was the best he was going to get. Vernon was going to take far longer than Petunia and Dudley to truly turn over a new leaf, but Harry could see he was trying. It just seemed his way of not being rude to Harry was simply to not give himself the opportunity.

It was a quiet ride, and Harry was sure Petunia was just as anxious as he was. He kept reaching back and touching the trunk every few minutes, wishing he could comfort Padfoot, not liking him trapped in there, but it was for the plan, and once they got their rooms at the Leaky Cauldron he’d let him out.

It wasn’t long before they parked in a carport near the Cauldron and Harry carried his trunk and belongings towards the establishment, noticing Hermione and her parent’s pulling up as well.

Harry joined Hermione who was carrying her trunk and belongings with her towards the Leaky Cauldron, and they shared a moment of frustration that they couldn’t just levitate the trunks yet and be done with it. But the two teens persevered and once they made it into the pub they nearly collapsed in gratitude.

It didn’t take long for Harry and Hermione to book their rooms and Harry showed Petunia up to hers, trying to keep her from seeing anything too magical before she grew accustomed to it, and as soon as he showed her to her room, he dragged his trunk to his own and closed the door and locked it.

Nearly as soon as he did so, he heard whining from the trunk and it popped open and Padfoot tumbled out. “Padfoot! Are you okay?” Harry asked, going up to the dog and looking for any wounds, but the dog seemed just glad to be free of the confines of the trunk and licked Harry’s face, and Harry was glad. 

Harry hugged the dog for a while, “I’m so sorry I had to keep you in there, Padfoot. I promise I’ll try to make it more comfortable for you. I really hate trapping you in there.” He said into Padfoot’s fur as he hugged him.

He reached around in the trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak, “I have to go out for a little while, if anyone comes in, hide under the bed under this, okay? I’ll knock, like this–” Harry made a specific knock on the floor, “That’ll let you know it’s me.” Sirius nodded, and Harry hoped that he wouldn’t need it, but he wanted to be safe.

It would be a few hours before the Weasleys showed up, so Harry brought Petunia around Diagon Alley. She had worn an older style dress, as per Harry’s advice, so she didn’t look too Muggle-like, but Harry stayed close to her regardless.

It was clear that some of the witches and wizards were able to tell by her clothes and the way she held herself that she was a Muggle, and Harry had to give a few dirty looks to ward off unnecessary attention.

He bought her ice cream, gave her some galleons and sickles in case she wanted something else and made Hermione promise to stay with her when he went to Gringotts to get money from his vault. 

He knew exposing her to goblins that fast was just going to do more harm than good. He knew they still freaked him out a bit, so Petunia would probably be terrified of them.

It was also nice that he didn’t have to explain that he was technically rich, that would be an odd conversation. Best to avoid it if possible.

Getting money from his vault was slowly becoming a new normal for him, which he figured was a sign that he was growing more and more accustomed to the wizarding world.

As they went through the tunnels of the vault however, there was a moment where Harry felt a distinct magical pressure spill over him, something that set him on edge and made his skin crawl as he clenched his teeth, but nearly as soon as he was able to sense it, it was gone as the cart zoomed towards his vault.

He stuffed a bunch of golden coins into a bag, enough to easily last the school year, and then some, as well as spending money. It felt like a lot of money, but he had barely made a dent in his vault, so he figured it was all okay. He’d start to worry when the piles began to show floor under all the gold.

He rushed back to find Hermione talking to her about something or other she had read in a book, and Petunia had an odd expression on her face, something between nostalgia, and sadness, and Harry figured she was probably seeing a bit of Lily in Hermione, which made Harry smile sadly.

From what he had been told of his mother, Hermione did seem a lot like her in personality, and so for Petunia, Hermione probably felt like a blast from the past.

Hermione informed him that she was having a lovely time getting to know Petunia who simply nodded back, and Hermione told Harry to go explore the shops in Diagon Alley while she talked to Petunia longer, and Harry was grateful for that.

Since he didn’t have to worry about his school supplies, he was able to rather just look at shops he might want things from, or just possibly wanted to go inside. There were many stores that seemed interesting, but not ones he actually wanted to visit today.

As he was walking, he passed a shop that sold boots, judging by the fact that there were at least six pairs of enchanted boots dancing around in the shop window. 

Shopping for boots was something Harry had never even bothered to worry about. He was used to just getting Dudley’s old castoffs, so he wasn’t even sure what you’d need to know to buy your own shoes. They never really fit right, but like how his clothes had been, he didn’t have to think about what he liked. Instead just taking what was given.

When Vernon had bought him his own clothes he had just picked the simplest ones he could find since he wasn’t even sure what he liked for himself.

The stretch of Diagon he was currently in was rather close to Knockturn Alley, and so the shops were all a bit darker in appearance and mood, but there were still enough witches and wizards moving around that it was still safe for him. He had intended on heading to Carkitt Market, but there had been a large number of people heading towards it and he hadn’t wanted to get caught up in people wanting to see his scar and say various iterations of “oh my god it’s Harry Potter! The one who killed Voldemort.” And he decided that trying to check out Horizont Alley would have probably gotten him lost.

He knew Diagon, and that’s where he felt comfortable staying right now. Hell, he knew Knockturn more than he knew Carkitt Market or Horizont Alley.

He stopped and looked at the sign hanging above the store: Silverberry Cordwainers.

Cordwainer was a word Harry had never heard before in his life. Was that a cobbler? Did they repair shoes too? Wizards liked old fashioned words, maybe it was just the same thing?

Well, Hermione did say to check out some stores, and he could use some new shoes, considering his trainers were…rather old at this point.

To be honest, they were basically only held together by glue and Harry’s willpower at this point and if he walked around a lot they did cause his soles to start to hurt by the end of the day.

With a shrug, Harry walked in, hearing a musical trill sound out above him, “A new customer!”

The owners of wizarding shops all seemed to have different “bells” which Harry was beginning to think might have been something of a matter of pride in their own eccentricity. 

Looking around, the boy was trying to figure out how he would buy shoes in a wizarding store, when a man, who was seemingly the owner or at least the shopkeeper, came up to him, “Bless my soul, you’re him, right?” His reddish-pink eyes had a few flecks of silver in them, which was visible to Harry because the man’s eyes were wide as they regarded him. He was wearing simple clothes, a white shirt, black waistcoat, and trousers, though he was wearing an apron that had tape measures, needles, threads, and all manner of tools shoved into it haphazardly that Harry figured must be for making or repairing shoes.

Harry had gone through this game many times and nodded, trying not to look too annoyed about the whole thing, even lifting his hair up a bit to show the scar. He hated it, but he knew how it went by this point, better to do it himself instead of others trying to do it themselves.

Plus, he knew that while he had to go through this constantly, most people didn’t actually mean anything bad by it and were genuinely just interested in getting to see the famous “Boy-Who-Lived” in the flesh.

“Goodness! Well, Mister Potter, what’ll you be having from my shop?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ve never…shopped for shoes before.” He glanced around at all the boxes and boots on display. If he was in a muggle shop like this he was sure this would be considered high end, and the thought suddenly made Harry nervous.

“Never shopped for shoes? Why, that’s a travesty! Come on, follow me!” The dark haired man hurried out from behind the counter and gestured for Harry to come and stand in front of a large mirror, “Sit! Let’s get your measurements!” He gestured for Harry to sit in the chair behind him, and Harry grudgingly did so.

It was more comfortable than he thought, but with a wave of the owner’s wand a bunch of tape measures appeared and were measuring nearly every dimension of his feet, and a few even went up his leg towards his thighs, before the owner waved those tapes off as if they were acting up. “Please take those muggle shoes off, I need to get an accurate measurement of your soles and ankles to ensure they fit properly.”

Harry complied and removed his shoes, embarrassed by the fact that his socks had a few holes in them, though the store owner didn’t seem to mind, letting more tape measures press into the curve of his foot and wrap around nearly very part of his feet and ankles, while the owner muttering a few things under his breath. Before long there was a scrap of parchment with all the measurements of his foot as well as his legs.

It reminded him of Ollivander, just less creepy. Very much less unnerving.

“There we go, got all your measurements, you can put your shoes back on. So what kind of style are you looking for?”

Harry looked confused, and the man nodded, “Sorry. Forgot. Never shopped for shoes before. Well, I can make simple muggle shoes like those, or I can make you genuine handcrafted wizard boots! Here!” It was clear which type the man preferred making, Harry realized.

The man summoned a few examples with an errant wave of his wand and a few muttered words; one was a well made looking trainer that was nicer than most muggle trainers but still clearly muggle in style, the next was a large boot that Harry was sure that came out of a fantasy play, and the third was a large hiking or maybe work boot– sturdy, practical, but still with that distinctly magical flair that Harry associated with wizard crafted goods.

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ve only really worn these ones.” He gestured to the muggle trainers dismissively and the sole peeled from the shoe itself as if in response to his words.

“That won’t do at all! Goodness, look at the state of those poor things, worked them to the bone you did. Give me a moment, Mister Potter! I’ll get some good ones for you!” The man rushed off and left Harry sitting there, alone. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to just stay sitting here or if he could stand up again.

He looked around and noticed the store wasn’t that busy which was surprising for a store on Diagon.

There were at least two other wizards standing around looking at some of the boots, and Harry could hear them talking, even though it was clear by the tone of their voices that they were trying to be quiet, which just made Harry focus on them more.

“Yeah, I got this suitcase before I went across the continent. Paid a good sum of Galleons for it, but I can live out of it! Completely undetectable if you don’t know it’s there, made to look exactly as I wanted it to, and when I say live out of it, I mean it friend, far bigger on the inside that he looks. I never had to worry about finding a place to sleep! He’s a beauty. Got it from a shop in Knockturn.”

“Aren’t those really illegal though? I heard the Ministry’s been cracking down on unauthorized expanded objects as part of the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts’s bans.”

The other man shrugged, “Yeah, so what? What the Ministry don’t know can’t hurt them. Besides, what they gonna do, confiscate my home? It’s practically a mansion in there! Especially compared to some of the places I’ve lived. Plus it’s easy to hide.” 

Harry was listening intently. A suitcase you could live inside, bigger on the inside, undetectable? That’s exactly what he needed for Padfoot! Harry couldn’t believe his luck! This must be his reward for dealing with so much insanity so often!

“I’ll think about it, man.” The second guy said, “I don’t know if I even have the money to buy one yet. That’s a massive stack of Galleons to be blowing through…Though…not having to worry about finding a place to sleep does sound rather nice, plus no rent.” He paused, and Harry could see him already trying to figure out how to get the Galleons for it. “I got to head out, Thickett. I have an appointment down in Knockturn that I don’t want to miss.”

The owner wasn’t back yet and the second man was leaving, so Harry jumped up and rushed to the other man. “Excuse me, sir!”

The man jumped and looked down at Harry, frightened. “Uh, what’s the deal, kid?”

“I hope you don’t mind, I happened to hear what you were discussing with the man who just left…”

The man’s entire attitude changed, he was suddenly on the defensive and incredibly panicked, “I don’t know what you thought you heard, but whatever it was, you misheard.”

“But, sir–”

“I have to go, kid, forget what you heard.” The man went to leave as quickly as possible before Harry jumped in the way, practically throwing himself between the exit and the man.

“Sir, I was hoping you could direct me to the shop you were talking about!” He said, forcefully and he stretched himself as far as he could to prevent the man from pushing past him..

“What are you talking about? I didn’t mention no shop.” He said, glancing around, trying to make sure there was no one else listening in.

“Sir, what you described is exactly what I need. I’m not going to turn you in, or the shop. I want one for myself, and I don’t care how illegal it is, or how much it costs.”

It seemed Harry’s words sparked something inside the man.

He looked down at Harry, appraising him as he tugged his collar, “I’ll tell you where the shop is if…you pay.”

“How much?”

“A Galleon.”

“Done.” Harry fished out a Galleon from his pocket and slapped it into the man’s hand before he barely had time to blink.

“Wait, you seriously paying me for it? You really serious about it?

“As serious as a heart attack.”

The wizard looked confused by the phrase, and a bit unnerved by Harry’s conviction, but looked hesitant still.

“I really don’t care what the laws the Ministry has against it, I need something like what you described, and I will do anything to get it.”

The man looked nervous and flighty again, like a small animal before a predator, eyes flitting around checking for others and trying to see if he could make it to the exit, but Harry kept him pinned down with his eyes, refusing to blink or let him make a move. If Harry let him move, Harry lost his one opportunity to get what he needed, and he refused to let that happen. Padfoot was getting this suitcase, and if Harry had to harass a wizard to get it he would. 

He wouldn’t hesitate. Not for Padfoot.

The man looked at him again, more deeply now, his eyes narrowing as he took in his features and Harry was actually glad that his appearance was a relatively well known thing, because he could see the moment the man recognized him, the way his eyes widened just enough in recognition, the way his movements became slightly more demure and timid, the way he swallowed as if he were caught by Aurors.

“Wait a moment…Did I hear the shopkeeper call you Mister Potter earlier?”

Harry nodded.

“As in…Harry Potter?”

Harry nodded again, “Yes.”

“And you’re willing to break the law for one of these?”

Harry flinched but nodded, “Yes.”

The man regarded him and Harry reached up and moved the hair from the scar and the man took a sharp inhale, “You really are him. Well, fine, you didn’t hear this from me, but if you head down Knockturn Alley, there’s a shop past the White Wyvern with a sign that says “Ludgar’s Luggage.” It looks abandoned, but it’s not. Go in, ask the man at the counter for the Wonderland Special, say old Thicket Buckly sent you his way. You should be able to get what you want.”

Harry quickly fished out a piece of paper he had on him and a small pencil and jotted the information down as fast as he could.

“Thank you so much, mister.”

“No problem, Potter, consider it my thanks for your hard work.” The man looked around, once more making sure no one else heard him corrupt the Boy-Who-Lived with knowledge of how to purchase an illegal piece of luggage before he exited the shop quickly, looking both ways before skulking off down a side alley like many of the Dark Wizards he’d see in Knockturn Alley.

Harry couldn’t believe his luck! He was so glad that he had decided to enter this store at the time he did!

He went back to the seat seconds before the owner returned carrying a few boxes. “Okay, Mister Potter! I got a few samples for you to try on!”

The next twenty minutes or so was Harry trying on various shoes, making note of the ones he liked, all while mentally planning how he was going to get to the luggage shop and purchase one today.

He was going to simply go for the muggle style trainers, and pulled out his coins to pay when the man shook his head, “Keep your money, Mister Potter! Here! Free of charge!” He boxed up Harry’s favorite choices from the selection and handed them to him. “Just tell people that you got them from me! Johnny Silverberry. I trust that I’ll make up for the loss just with that in a few days. Besides, people see you walking out of my store with this many boxes, and see my logo on them, they’ll think I’m your preferred cordwainer! You’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron, right? I’ll get so much exposure this way! Oh, that alone will more than make up for that! Think of it as advertising!” The man was grinning ear to ear as he piled the shoe boxes into Harry’s arms.

Harry wasn’t sure if that made financial sense, but the man apparently wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Harry reluctantly accepted the shoes.

The owner waved Harry out, holding the door for him and making sure to– loudly– thank Harry Potter for shopping at his store, and that he hopes that Harry Potter enjoys all the purchases he made there today. He saw a few people look towards him, and he tried to hide behind the boxes, but as he walked away he saw a few people talking and at least four people walking into the store.

Apparently the man wasn’t wrong; Harry was good advertising it seemed.

He tried to quickly make his way towards the Leaky Cauldron, and went back into his room, knocking in the way he told Padfoot he would, and then slipped inside, closing the door behind him as quickly as possible, locking it as he took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Padfoot?”

The dog slunk out from under the invisibility cloak, and ran up to Harry, Harry tossed the boxes onto the bed and hugged the dog cheerfully.

“Guess what? I got some information that is exactly what I need!” He pulled out the paper and explained what he had heard to Padfoot, who was watching him with a grin.

“Sure, it’s illegal, but it’s exactly what we need! I’m gonna go there right away.”

Padfoot shook his head and went and picked up the invisibility cloak from where he had hidden it and brought it to Harry, making him take it.

“Use the invisibility cloak?”

Padfoot nodded, moving forward to nudge at Harry’s hand.

“That’s actually a great idea. That way no one sees me entering Knockturn Alley! Thanks Padfoot! I’ll go right now. Stay safe, ‘kay? Promise?”

Padfoot rolled his eyes but nodded and laid down on the bed, hidden from the door by the boxes, watching Harry leave with the cloak in hand.

Harry made his way down the Alley, his cloak shoved inside his jacket as he got closer to the entrance to Knockturn. This section of Diagon was more sparsely populated, and when Harry was near the entrance to the other Alley, he slipped into a side alley, made sure no one was watching and then threw the invisibility cloak over himself, and then rushing back out and through the archway into the darker part of Wizard London’s shopping district.

He stuck to the sides, avoiding any witches and wizards he could, trying not to touch anyone, or bring any attention to himself, but soon enough he saw the White Wyvern and then looked around for Ludgar’s Luggage.

Knockturn was always physically darker than Diagon. But for all the apparent griminess, there were a fair amount of well dressed witches and wizards walking around, heads held high and scowls on their faces. 

Harry was sure he’d never grow accustomed to how wizards in Knockturn acted.

He continued looking around from under his invisibility cloak at the various shops. There were a few that actually seemed interesting, though Harry felt a little unnerved that he felt that way.

Maybe one of these days he might actually come and visit and actually look at what he could buy. 

He didn’t like to admit it, but there was a certain fascination with the darker side of magic that he had. He remembered seeing his first spellbook of curses, hexes, and jinxes and being excited, and last year he had been intrigued by some of the items in Borgin & Burkes, and there was that rebellious instinct inside of him that told him that since everyone told him to not come to Knockturn, or get interested in the Dark Arts, that made him want to do it just to spite them.

He wondered how many things that could have made his life easier could be bought in Knockturn that he just didn’t know about. He didn’t know much about the Wizarding World and just relied on what other people told him to think.

That hadn’t been working out for him so far, as at the slightest provocation everyone turned on him and believed him to be the Heir of Slytherin last year, and there were still people who gossiped about exactly how he had defeated Quirrell last year.

Maybe he needed to actually start forming his opinions based on actual experience and not just what everyone told him to believe.

Maybe he would come to Knockturn openly one of these days. Give people something real to gossip about.

And if Padfoot was, indeed, a criminal, then Harry was one for harboring and aiding him, and here he was seeking out a shop to purchase illegal goods.

Harry’s morals needed to be a bit more flexible for the life he had willingly chosen.

If he had to get dark, then he’d get a little Black for Sirius, then so be it.

Harry chuckled at his own little pun.

After a few minutes of searching, and avoiding any wizards getting too close to him, Harry found the sign for Ludgar’s Luggage.

It was nestled in under another store that sold shrunken heads, which Harry figured was not exaggerating about its goods, and quickly walked down the steps that led to the underground store.

As soon as he entered and a soft musical note hummed through the air, he pulled off his cloak and shoved it back into his jacket, trying to avoid letting people know much about his cloak.

The store was quiet, as if all the sound of the various wizards outside was stored away by the luggage itself, leaving only a warm silence behind. The shop was completely empty of people, and if he hadn’t been told that it wasn’t abandoned, Harry would have assumed it was and Harry felt very cut off from the outside world in this place– like he had entered an entirely different world, though he was sure that was just because he was quickly leaving his world of being a relatively upstanding member of society behind and was venturing into the seedy and Dark underbelly of the wizarding world that he had been taught was scary and evil– to stay away from.

It was for Padfoot, and that thought made him stand tall and walk forward without hesitation. He already knew he’d attempt to break Padfoot out of Azkaban itself if he was ever sent there, and that thought alone made buying illegal luggage seem far less stressful.

The shop had walls upon walls of suitcases, briefcases, trunks and all other forms of luggage Harry could think of, stacked haphazardly and without any seeming rhyme or reason to their placement. It had that familiar “wizarding store’ aura, where the shelves were so packed that Harry knew there was no way they could not topple over without magic and he walked to the front counter.

There was no one there, but there was a bell. Harry took a deep breath and reached forward, tapping the bell which rang out clear and loud.

“Ahh, didn’t see you there, young man.” An white haired gentleman said, walking up to the counter from behind a corner. He seemed somehow young and old, though it was probably the white hair that made him look older than he was. 

If Harry had to guess by his face, he was at most in his 50s, and Harry couldn’t help but notice that he was quite fit for his age, his white button up shirt perfectly tailored to his muscles, making him blush slightly as he thought it.

He was wearing square lensed glasses, over thick dark red–almost black– eyebrows with golden bronze eyes underneath. His beard was the same color as his eyebrows but was shot through with the same white as his hair and he had a prominent underbite that left his bottom canines poking past his lip as he smiled. Harry noticed his ears were faintly pointed, and concluded he probably had nonhuman ancestry somewhere in his family.

Harry didn’t like this sudden awareness he had gained towards his own preferences on men. It was one thing when he’d be unaware of why he was fixating on certain men, knowing now that those fixations were because he was finding them attractive made them all the more awkward.

He wondered if this was what being an adult was like, this constant awareness of other people and how they affected you, especially…sexually.

If so, he wondered how everyone just pretended it wasn’t as important as it was feeling like it was right now.

Maybe they did and just kept it from him? Thought him too young to be exposed to that kind of thinking, unaware that he was already thinking it. Unaware that he already wanted to be exposed to those kinds of ideas.

Unaware that people like him were already thinking things they shouldn’t be.

He smiled down at Harry, “What can I do for you today?”

“Excuse me, sir, I was told to come to you about the Wonderland Special. Thicket Buckly told me that you would have what I needed. I have money.” Harry said, carefully watching the man’s reactions.

For his credit the man didn’t show any physical reactions to Harry’s request and simply lifted the counter and gestured for Harry to come with him to the back. He waved his wand and the open sign on the window quickly flipped to closed and the door locked.

“Thicket opened his big mouth again, didn’t he?” The man asked, shaking his head as he sighed, and walked Harry through a veritable labyrinth of luggage, the walkways formed by them lit by warm gas lamps that made the place somehow brightly lit in gold, and incredibly dark where the towering stacks of luggage blocked out the light.

“I, uh, overheard him talking to someone about your services.” Harry said, trying to stay close to not get lost in the maze of trunks and cases.

The man shook his head and turned around a stack of travel trunks, “Damn man is going to get me arrested.”

“He was talking quietly, sir, I’m just incredibly nosy.” Harry said, grinning sheepishly.  

The man turned back, rolling his eyes, but he regarded Harry with a fond smile, “Alright then. Well, here we are. My atelier.”

The luggage labyrinth opened up into a warmly lit back room, it had a comfortable looking chair, and large walls stuffed with various drawers, some overfilled.

“So what kind of luggage are you looking for, kid?”

“A school trunk. I need it to look like a Hogwarts school trunk.”

“Okay,“ he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and jotted that down, “Normal size?”

“On the outside, I need it to be big on the inside.” Another series of scratches on the parchment.

“Also, I need a way of making sure no one would find out about it even if they opened it.”

“How big on the interior?”

“How big can you make it?”

“Big.” He said, raising an eyebrow up at Harry from behind the floating parchment.

“Then big.”

The man nodded, grinning widely, “Will you be…living in it?”

“Yes, and my dog as well, he’ll be staying there.”

“Okay that’s one standard Undetectable Extension Charm on a replica Hogwarts School Trunk, large interior, life support, defenses and security. Anything else?”

“Is there anything else you can do with it?” Harry asked, curious.

“That’s the most standard package. I’ve done a few vivariums inside a few pieces of luggage. That’s mostly poachers and a few magizoologists, like good old Scamander, who like the Vivarium package, but if you have a dog, having some varied sceneries might be good for him. There’s the Changing Exterior package I worked up. Gives the luggage a second form to be more easily carried. In this case I could make it look like a briefcase as well so you could carry it around better? And there’s the Animated Care package. Enchanted to clean up after itself, does basic household functions. And I also have the Household package, which adds a house inside of it. You’ll have to furnish it, but that’s up to you. Oh, Household package also comes with weather simulation charms.”

Harry stared, wide eyed at the man, “I didn’t know you could do that much to a piece of luggage!”

The man laughed richly, his voice was a deep baritone that made Harry feel at ease, “Not legally of course!”

“Well, that’s why I’m here isn’t it?” Harry asked, grinning. “How much for the full suite?” Harry asked.

“For you Mister Potter–” Harry should be more shocked that the man knew who he was, but found he wasn’t, instead glad the man hadn’t made a big deal about it. “The full suite will cost 300 galleons. That includes all the packages I previously mentioned, as well as some other ones a young wizard might find useful.”

Harry nodded while weighing it out in his head. That sounded far better than he had expected, and he knew he had the money, and this was a really good investment…

“Also…I can tell that you’re an enterprising wizard, one who might not like the Ministry knowing everything about you at all times, if you catch my drift. I can add some protections on the trunk– Make it so no one will know you’re casting magic inside when you’re not at school.” The man winked from behind his glasses, his gold and bronze eyes glittering as if lit by fire.

Harry nodded, astonished that that was possible, but very much liking the idea of it. He had always hated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and hated that he couldn’t even practice his spells during his summer. If he had a way to get around that, then he would gladly take it. “That sounds incredibly useful.”

“It is. I don’t have much need to use this particular package, as most of my clients are already overage, but I have a feeling that a boy like you? Already coming to me? Well, that means that you might find it useful.”

Harry made up his mind and took out some Galleons from his pocket but the man shook his head, and pulled out a slip of paper from his desk. “I don’t expect you to carry around that amount of Galleons, Potter. When we’re ready, we’ll draw up a withdrawal form for your Vault, charge you directly from there.”

Harry nodded graciously. That was good. He was worried he’d have to go and get more money out of the vault, and he was sure someone would notice him leaving with a large amount of coins in a sack just to head back to Knockturn with them. It would draw too many eyes into his actions, something he couldn’t afford if he wanted to protect Padfoot.

“Okay, I’ll be able to have it ready by the beginning of next week.”

Harry stiffened, “That long?” He’d already be at Hogwarts! There’d be no way he could keep Padfoot locked in a trunk for the entire train trip and then somehow keep him a secret for a week at Hogwarts!

“Yes, I have other orders I need to work on. Is that a problem?” The man grinned knowingly, and steepled his hands in front of himself as he leaned on the desk, regarding Harry.

Harry wanted to groan out loud at the idea of having to wait that long, and then looked up at the man, sure he looked desperate and pathetic. “Is there any way I can get it by tomorrow morning before I leave for the Express?”

The man looked at Harry like he was insane, but slowly a smirk was gracing his lips.

Suddenly Harry thought of something he had heard once in a movie that Vernon had been watching, “I'll pay for it.”

The man nodded, “There’s the magic words! I suppose I can push back my other orders for Harry Potter. It’ll be an additional 100 galleons though, for the inconvenience and for the rushed priority order.”

“Done.” Harry knew he should have enough in his vault to cover that. It might take out a pile or two, but he’d deal with that after.

The man wrote out the required amount on the slip and handed it to Harry.

He examined it to make sure he wasn’t giving the man blanket access to his vault. He wasn’t a lawyer, or an accountant, or a bank worker, so he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he was reading it properly, but from what he could make it out it appeared to be a run-of-the-mill invoice for the price, though the products listed were normal and boring sounding things and consultation fees that made it seem like Harry had come here for legal advice instead of for purchasing illegal luggage. Once he was relatively sure he wasn’t giving away his fortune to the man he signed it with a flourish.

He couldn’t help the deep sigh he let out when he had pulled the quill from the parchment as “Harry Potter” was written across the signatory line.

The man read it over once more, smirked in a way that made Harry blush slightly, and slapped it on the table and grinned even more.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Potter! Hows about I keep you in mind if I hear of any other less than reputable business ventures that might be up your alley. I have plenty of friends in various lines of business who tell me about many interesting things they make, sell, and do. I have a feeling we can become very good friends.””

“That sounds like a plan!”

The man reached his hand out, and Harry took a hold of it, trying to match the strong grip of the man's hand and shake it just as strongly.

Look at him!

Here he was, doing illegal backroom business to acquire a very illegal trunk to smuggle his pet dog (who’s also a wizard) into school with him.

He was definitely insane, but for some reason it felt incredibly liberating.

“I appreciate that, Mister…”

“Ludgar. Ludgar Von Cross.”

“Mister Von Cross. I also have another question that you might be able to answer before I leave.”

“Of course, anything for such an entrepreneurial, and wealthy , client such as yourself.”

“If I were to be tempted to keep, say, an extra wand, or purchase one for someone who’s wand was snapped, and don’t want to go to Ollivander. And want to make sure no one knows about this purchase, especially the Ministry…Where would I go?”

Ludgar laughed, his eyes examining Harry with a knowing gleam. Harry was sure he didn’t know exactly why Harry wanted it, but there was something in his gaze that made Harry feel like he should be a bit more cautious about his activities, “Well, I’d suggest Susie’s. She and her husband are exquisite wandworkers, and have developed a name for themselves with their elegant and ornamental woodwork in addition to the power of their wands, and they are very discreet with their clients' information. All their wands are custom made, and made to order. You’ll not find a single off-the-shelf piece in their store. I promise you that.”

That’s exactly what Harry wanted! “Where might I find Susie and her husband?” He felt like such a criminal, but he knew that if Sirius was on the run, and had been transfigured into a dog, he didn’t have a wand, and if he was ever going to become human again, he’d need one of his own.

“When you exit my shop head left two blocks and– you getting this or should I write it?”

Harry pulled out the paper he had used earlier, “I got it.”

“Then head to the left when you see the house with the unicorn windvane, it’ll be the house behind that. They’ll have a Graphorn sculpture sitting by the door. Look for the sign that says “Susie Wands” the store will look abandoned and say it's closed, but knock and say Ludgar sent you for a backup.”

“Ludgar for a backup.” Harry said as he wrote it down.

“Also, Mister Potter, are you staying at the Leaky Cauldron?”

Adjusting his jacket, Harry nodded and blinked up at Ludgar.

“I’ll have your package delivered by the morning, well before you leave, so you and your…dog–” Harry couldn’t help but notice the look in Ludgar’s eyes at that, something between a smug grin and a suggestive smirk that made Harry nervous and blush, trying to figure out what he had meant by the insinuation, “– can get intimately acquainted with it before you head out.”

“Thank you, Mister Von Cross. I’m very grateful you’re helping me so much.” Harry didn’t know what he was really saying beneath the comment, but his brain was conjuring possible meanings and each was more embarrassing than the last.

“No problem, kid. It’s nice seeing someone so young breaking the law.” Harry looked up, confused by the words as he looked at the man, “We need more kids like you. Helps keep wizarding culture strong when we have people like Harry Potter sticking it to the assholes at the Ministry.” Ludgar grinned viciously, and suddenly the older friendly man Harry assumed him to be looked far more immoral than he had before, “I hate the Ministry weaseling its dirty little nose into my business, and I’m sure you can appreciate the feeling.”

He nodded before he realized it, but it was true. The Ministry seemed to just cause him trouble in his life.

It was nice to know that he was going to have a place like this trunk now, and especially knowing he’d be able to do magic inside of it without the Ministry knowing.

It was a thrill to have something illegal, and knowing it would make his life so much easier? Well, Harry couldn’t help but feel like telling the Ministry to piss off was cathartic in a way.

If he ever had to go on the run, with this trunk he’d be perfectly safe.

It really made him upset that this kind of thing was illegal! Why had he never heard of this kind of business before?

“Why isn’t this kind of luggage more common?” Harry decided to ask.

Ludgar made a face; disgusted and angry, and Harry could immediately tell that Mister Von Cross did not get along with the Ministry already. 

“The Ministry claims that it’s because it has a higher risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but really it’s because they can’t control wizards using them. It’s easier to break out of their control, and avoid the Ministry’s rules.” He threw up his hand from the desk, knocking over a stack of papers onto the floor, but seemingly not noticing. 

He kicked back in his chair, placing his boots on the desk in front of him, “Like everything about the Ministry, it’s about controlling wizards like us . The ones who don’t let pesky laws or morality get in the way of doing what we want! I mean, look at the ban on Flying Carpets! Those stooges at that joke of a department; the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts– banned Flying Carpets because they posed a risk for the Statute due to them being ‘muggle artefacts’--” Ludgar did an derogatory impression of a Ministry worker and made finger quotes before he made an offensive gesture with his hands, “Fuck those little bitches, especially the head; that oaf of a wizard. What was his name again?” He shook his head when he couldn’t remember it, “Whatever. Can you imagine it? Calling a flying carpet a ‘muggle artefact’? Flying carpets have just as much a history in wizarding culture as brooms, if not more , and they get banned for being muggle artefacts?! But brooms are still allowed for some reason?” His sudden laugh was sharp, acidic, and cruel sounding, “Bullshit, kid! I’ll tell you why they really did it. They did it so that wizarding families would have to use their Floo network to get their families around, since they stole that from independent wizards too. Instead of a nice leisurely flight on the carpet through the countryside, now you have to use the Floo network. Brooms are one- maybe two people max. But I used to have a 10-seater carpet, and could easily fit all my gear as well as friends when we’d go on a trip to a Quidditch game, now it’s sitting in my attic collecting dust because it’s ‘illegal.’ You know how fun a flying carpet trip with your friends is? A week together, enjoying the sights, able to stop whenever you see something interesting. Making memories? Fuckers. The only way to get a family around magically nowadays is by Floo, and you have to pay to have it hooked up, file a bunch of paperwork, and they can spy on you whenever they want and can turn it off when they want without even telling you. Plus all the fucking taxes and regulations? Being able to throw you in Azkaban on phony made up charges, tell me what magic I’m allowed to look into, what rituals I can and can’t fucking do under threat of Azkaban?!” Ludgar was getting worked up, and Harry could feel his magic beginning to roil as his anger almost crested, the gas lamps now burning a darker gold and causing darker shadows to play across Ludgar’s face. “All about control, kid.” He said harshly, his lip drawn back in disgust as he thought about it, “Take as much freedom from the citizens as possible all in the name of ‘safety’ and then take some more in the name of ‘progress.’ Eventually all you’ll get is witches and wizards who don’t have a single original thought in their heads, just parroting out what the Ministry tells them without ever once thinking why . Pathetic little puppets, won’t catch me letting the Ministry control my life.”

Harry nodded, listening intently though a little unnerved by the anger of the man who was seemingly a nice fellow before this conversation when suddenly something he said registered in Harry’s head. “Wait, we used to have Flying Carpets, here in Britain?”

“They don’t teach you that at Hogwarts do they, huh? Yeah, used to be a preferred method of getting around if you weren’t too concerned about speed. You could pile the family on it, as well as your luggage. Then the Muggle Artefacts office decided that wasn’t ‘proper.’”

“I want to fly on a Flying Carpet!” Harry exclaimed, “That sounds great! I mean I love my broom, but being able to fly around with other people with you sounds really nice! Couldn’t they just make it so they’d have to have a charm that makes them unseen from below?”

“You think so, right? But no, a historically significant method of transport, gone from the country because they might pose a risk in the same way as brooms, for no real reason. Only logical answer is that the Ministry wants to keep the wizarding population dependent on them, make it so they have fewer and fewer freedoms, and make it so people just accept it. Like the Animagus Registry! Becoming an Animagus should be an entirely personal decision, between a wizard and his soul, something beautiful. Why do I have to register because I’m a talented fucking wizard? ‘Improper Use of Magic Office?’ Can you imagine anything as downright insulting to wizarding history as that? I shouldn’t have to go register myself because I could use it to sneak around or whatever bullshit they spew down there. I could do that with an Invisibility cloak if I had one! Probably easier to get a good cloak than become an animagus after all, and more reliable.”

“Animagus?”

“Wizards who can turn into animals at will. Rare skill, very hard to learn. Used to be something beautiful.” Ludgar sighed heavily, roughly running his hand through his hair and breathing angrily, “I had an uncle who could turn into the most beautiful bear you ever did saw.” There was a wistfulness in Mister Von Cross’s eyes as he unfocused for a moment, and then looked back at Harry with a angry and sad smile, “Ministry locked him in Azkaban for it since he didn’t register himself. I’m hoping they’ll let him out eventually. I file release forms every year, but it’s been almost two decades at this point. I doubt they’ll ever let him out, but he’s still sane, which gives me hope. All because he wanted to see what animal his soul was and didn’t want any random person to know. That’s what got me into the business, realizing how controlled the Ministry was towards wizards for using their gods-given gifts!”

“He was like Professor McGonagall?” Harry found himself asking.

“Wait, that broad’s still kicking? And still around teaching? Woman must be as old as the castle at this point. I’m old and she was old when she was my teacher.” Ludgar said, laughing incredulously. “But yeah, she’s one of the few who actually registered herself. Foolish witch. Most don’t though. There’s probably a sizable group of Animagi who refuse to register that the Ministry just doesn’t know about. I wouldn’t. What my soul looks like as an animal is between myself and my lover, no one else. Or like those poor lycanthrope saps, the not psychotic ones. Having to register for something they didn’t even choose to become just because they were cursed. So what if they turn into a bloodthirsty beast once a month? So do I when I don’t get my butterbeer on time.” He laughed darkly and shook his head, “Some of my best lovers were lycanthropes. Let me tell you, kid, some lycanthropes get downright brutal in bed, into the kind of things that would make you go as white as my hair, but when you give in, they leave you with a few scars that you’re glad never go away.” He waggled his eyebrows before he realized he was talking to a teenager and coughed, reaching up to adjust his glasses and loosen his collar and tie, “Yeah, but anyway, those poor saps, the good ones, have their entire lives spied on. A single mistake and they’re thrown in Azkaban without much sympathy, all because the worst of them are monsters. We need to just burn down all those registries and ban them from making more, at wandpoint if we have to.” He said, spitting at the ground next to him.

Harry leaned against the wall. He’d never heard anyone talk so negatively about the Ministry before, not unless they were dark wizards. It was interesting to listen to. Made him think of Vernon insulting the politicians on the news, which made it something he could process.

Ludgar calmed down, sighing heavily, “Sorry, kid, I just miss my uncle…You probably have better things to do than listen to me go on about the Ministry’s tyranny. Most people know not to get me started on it, but you’re new and I forgot to warn you. You’re probably gonna wanna get on down to Susie’s quickly before the Aurors start making their rounds. They tend to start in the afternoon trying to catch people they think are suspicious, and if the great Harry Potter is caught in Knockturn around then, well, they’ll probably want to ‘escort’ you back to Diagon.”

Harry didn’t like the idea of the Aurors knowing he was in Knockturn, or returning him back to Diagon where people might hear or see and spread rumors, “So I won’t have to worry about coming to pick up my new trunk, right?”

“Nope, I’ll have my house-elf drop it off at the Leaky Cauldron first thing tomorrow morning, and have Tom send it up before you leave.”

Harry nodded, “Thank you again, Mister Von Cross.”

“Don’t mention it. Literally. Don’t mention it. I’m going to have to have a stern talking to Thicket about it next time I see him actually.”

Harry grimaced, he had a feeling that Thicket was probably going to have a very bad day the next time Ludger Von Cross saw him.

“If I hear anything I think you might want to know from any of my other ‘friends’–” He winked at Harry, “I’ll send an owl to you at Hogwarts.”

Harry was genuinely interested in whatever Ludgar might keep him updated about. If this trunk had been this useful, what else might there be that Harry had never even dreamed up that was being sold by underground businessmen like Ludgar? “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Do. Now remember, stay safe out there. Things have been getting frightening out there lately, especially for wizards like yourself, Potter. The ones actually doing the fighting.”

“I will! Stay safe, Mister Von Cross. And out of too much trouble!”

Harry waved at the man who laughed warmly as he summoned down a trunk roughly the same size as a Hogwarts School Trunk and proceeded to get to work, leaving Harry to head back through the luggage labyrinth towards the exit.

He found it was a lot easier to head back now that he had grown used to the shop.

He had spent a lot of Galleons already, but it would be worth it to have Padfoot with him safely.

As he got closer to the door he took out his invisibility cloak and spun it over him. He didn’t need to add to any of Mister Von Cross’s worries, nor to his own. He needed to get a wand for Sirius for later, and then get back. 

He had been gone long enough that he felt bad for abandoning Petunia with Hermione. Hermione had probably already gotten Petunia’s life story out of her at this point just to learn more.

It wasn’t that he was particularly worried, more that he just didn’t want anything to go wrong, as he would have to deal with it.

Harry slipped out of Ludgar’s shop, making sure that the door only opened just enough to get through and closed it again. There weren’t that many people in the area right now, but Harry wanted to be careful, he did just order an illegal item to smuggle someone into his school, and was going to go get him a wand for when he transformed back. Harry shook his head. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into.

He turned and continued down the way he had been walking when he was looking to Ludger’s and kept forward for two more blocks, constantly checking for a unicorn windvane, when he saw it he made a sharp left down a small alley and then saw the store sign for Susie’s Wands, and like Mister Von Cross had said, there was the Graphorn statue, and the closed sign.

He walked up the stairs, and knocked a few times quickly. 

“Who is it? We're closed.”

Harry quickly pulled off his cloak and hid it in his jacket, glancing around to make sure no one was looking, “Excuse me, Ludger sent me for a backup.”

The door unlocked and opened up and Harry slipped inside before it was closed and locked again.

“Ludger recommended you?” A middle aged man with greying temples and nice pureblood clothes asked, looking Harry up and down.

“Yes. I just came from him.”

“Never thought I’d be working with the Harry Potter. So you said you need a backup? My wife’s out of town right now. Wandmaker’s conference in Germany for the weekend, but I stayed home in case we got any clients. Don’t worry, my name may not be on the sign, but Rhime Reison is just as good as his wife, I can promise you that! Follow me!”

Harry followed the man, and wondered if so many people doing illegal business recognizing him was a good thing, but then again, it was probably not in their own best interest to go talking about him with others considering their lines of work.

“So what kind of wand are you looking for, Mister Potter?”

“Uh, well, it’s not for me.”

“Oh? Well, that’s no problem. We do a lot of discreet ‘gifts’ as well. Are they Pureblood, Halfblood, or Muggleborn?”

Harry remembered what the voice had said about the Blacks being old Purebloods. “Pureblood.”

“Exactly standards then, high quality materials, thematic designs. Member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?”

Harry didn’t know what that was…

Yes. Blacks are one of the Twenty-Eight. Tell him it's for a Black.

Oh, it seemed the voice didn’t mind making an appearance now.

“Yes. It’s for a Black.”

The man stopped, and turned to Harry with a wide grin on his face, one that made him look slightly unhinged, his blue eyes catching the light and nearly glittering with a complicated, yet positive emotion, “Oh? It wouldn’t happen to be for a…Sirius Black, would it?”

Harry nodded standing behind the man before he resumed walking, nearly brimming with energy and almost singing to himself as he walked. Harry was beginning to think that all wandworkers were unnerving, and not just Ollivander, “Yes. I’m helping him out. He doesn’t know I’m here though and I wanted to surprise him with a new wand since he lost his old one.”

“I should think so, considering it was snapped when he was arrested. But it’s not my place to judge my clients. Besides…if Harry Potter, of all people, is helping Sirius Black then what they say must not be true.”

Don’t reply to that. You’ve already given him too much information.

Harry stayed silent, but was curious as to what the man meant when he said Harry of all people.

“Fine fine, don’t worry I can keep a secret. We’ve actually met Sirius Black before, back in the day.” He grinned widely, “Handsome young man, gorgeous really. Talented, smart, skilled, everything you could want from a Pureblood heir if it weren’t for that niggling little rebellious streak he had in him. His family used to purchase backups from us decades ago before they all died out. Never thought I’d get to craft a wand for a Black again!” He paused and turned to Harry once more, grinning widely as he played with his own wand, “Actually now I’m really looking forward to it! Let's see…” He resumed walking and brought Harry to a room crowded with boxes and filing cabinets, he was flitting through the files inside one of them and pulled out a paper as he spun around cheerfully. “Here we are. Give me a minute to de-Babel it. Keeps any would be spies, or goons from the Ministry, from getting the information.”

The man held the paper in front of him, pulled out his wand and tapped it, muttering a phrase that sounded like complete gibberish to Harry in a singsongy manner, nearly dancing to unheard music as he did so. “Here we go. Sirius Black. Oh, this is a complicated one, beautiful though. I remember when I first designed it! Sirius was a wonder to work with, so much light and so much darkness, such an intensity! To get to recreate my masterpiece of him! My wife will be so jealous! I do like a challenge, plus I do favor the dark components more than my wife does, they fight back when you mold them. I like the struggle. Knowing Sirius Black, I should say this wand should still fit him perfectly. You can sit, I should be done rather quickly. I have all the components in the back. We have magazines if you want, help yourself. I simply cannot wait! Oh, the Blacks were my best clients. I miss them so! Even recalcitrant Walburga, if you can believe that! I’ve had to settle on the married ones…Not even true Blacks anymore. But to get to recreate Sirius’s wand? I never thought I’d see the day! I do hope he still retains his flourish after all these years!” He was gone through the door, moving as if he was dancing, and Harry could hear him singing to himself still as he went into another room.

Harry sat at the chair he was gesturing to and looked at the magazines sitting there. There were a few issues of Witch Weekly, at least a year out of date, some Transfiguration Todays, probably two years out of date, but he picked that up. It seemed better than a gossip rag. There was a debate about the origins of the animagus and whether they were born out of watching and imitating metamorphmagi, which Harry hadn’t known about until he was reading this magazine. It was interesting to read, but no actual answer seemed to come from it, just both sides of the discussion arguing about it, leaving Harry possibly more confused than before.

After about twenty minutes, Mister Reison came back out with a long piece of wood, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“Now normally most wandmakers would tell you it would take days to get it perfect. But I’m just that good. It’s not for you, but take a hold of it, tell me how it feels, I’ll have to simply imagine Sirius when I watch.”

Harry reached out and took a hold of the dark wand. It had no adornments beyond the wood itself, and the bottom of the wand narrowed out into a thin base that cradled the bottom of his hand, with a larger protrusion of wood above where the hand would rest, like a large bulb. The rest of the wand tapered to a point at the tip. There were runes carved into the side, spiralling from the tip down to the bulb, and then wrapping around it completely and running under where the hand would rest. 

He carefully waved the wand around, trying not to channel any magic into it, but found it was very comfortable to hold and quite nice to look at.

“Wow.”

“Right? Blackthorn, Rougarou Hair, twelve inches. Surprisingly unyielding. Perfect wand for a Black such as Sirius. Now how about you, Mister Potter?”

“Oh, I don’t need one, I have my wand.”

Mister Reison shook his head, “Potter, if you’re already doing business with Ludger and myself at 13, then you most definitely need a backup wand. If they ever expel you from Hogwarts before you pass your OWLs, they’ll snap your wand, can you imagine that? Horrid. It’s best to have a secret one in case of that.”

Harry shuddered, the very idea of them snapping his wand felt physically painful to him, so he nodded, “Okay, what do I do?”

“We’re not like Ollivander, Potter, we don’t do all that ‘wand picks the wizard.’ We make custom wands as per the desires of the wizard. Since we don’t have a wand receipt on record for you we get to do a brand new test! I love new tests! Especially with wizards of your caliber! I can promise I’ll probably consider it one of my favorites! A handsome and righteous young wizard like Harry Potter?” He sighed happily, twirling his wand in his hand, “Allow me to get the case!”

He waved his wand and a large case floated through the air the size of a nightstand. It had multiple drawers on it, and Harry watched as the first pulled out and floated in front of him.

“First we have wand woods. All the names are beneath the sample pieces. Just pick the one you like, or you can put a bit of magic into each one to see which one responds best to your magic.”

“I thought you said you didn’t do the wand picks the wizard thing.”

‘We don’t. You’re the one picking.” Mister Reison said, his voice annoyed which made Harry grin slightly, unseen by the wandmaker.

Harry placed Sirius’s wand in his shirt pocket and reached out to the first sample, and put a little magic into it, but felt nothing. He went through each piece, keeping track of the woods that felt the best to him and his magic, and eventually was drawn between Cherry and Elm.

“Good choices, strong choices. Cherry is a very aggressive wood, very powerful and quite lethal when faced in combat. Elm is sophisticated, and quite a hard wood to impress. Both would serve you well regardless of what you decide. Handsome woods for a handsome young man. Dangerous woods, for a dangerous young man as well. How alluring. I wonder how much darkness you have lurking in your heart. Don’t pick between them just yet. Let's move onto cores.”

The wood drawer went back into the case, and the next two drawers floated out and floated in front of Harry. The cores were long narrow threads that had a faintly luminous quality to them. The labels under made it hard to imagine that these glowing threads could be some of the things they claimed they were, but then again he didn’t think they just shoved things like a full phoenix feather into a piece of wood.

He ran his fingers over the cores until three seemed to vibrate when he touched them.

“Oh. That’s…odd.” Mister Reison looked at Harry with a perplexed frown, glancing him up and down. “Are you a Parselmouth? I haven’t done work for a Parselmouth in decades. Rare gift. Special gift. Oh this is going to be a wonderful wand!”

Harry froze a bit. How could he have known? It was possible some students had spread the knowledge around, but why was he bringing it up?

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He was grinning now, looking Harry up and down, and Harry suddenly felt like he was being appraised, for his worth or as prey, he wasn’t sure. “All three of these cores shouldn’t even show up to most of our clients, don’t show up for almost every one of our clients in fact, but yet all three are showing up for you, and two of them are directly connected to Parselmouths. Horned Serpent Horn, Basilisk Horn, and Thestral Tail Hair. Very interesting! Do you know how hard it was to get samples of Basilisk Horn to turn into cores? Very illegal and very fun! Regardless, we can worry about that after we deal with the length and flexibility.” The cores went back to the case and three more drawers came out. Inside were plain looking wands of various sizes all laid out next to each other. The shortest was 6 inches, and went all the way to 14.

“I need you to just swish around these wand blanks till you get a size that feels right for you. If it’s not perfect we can try the intermediate sizes between the two best ones for a more accurate length.”

Harry started at the smallest one, and it was obviously far too short for him, barely sticking out past his fist, he figured he’d settle on 11 inches like his Holly wand, but instead felt far more comfortable with an even 12 inches. Mister Reison had him put it back and sent two of the drawers away and floated one that had wands between 12 and 13 inches in it and had Harry test those out as well, but Harry felt that the 12 inch one felt the best.

“Okay, now, can I see your current wand?” Harry hesitantly pulled it out and handed it off, and the wizard gently bent it, swished it a few times and twirled it in his hand. “Supple.” He handed it back, “Let's see if any other flexibility calls out to you.” The drawer with the wand blanks went back into the chest and a smaller drawer near the top floated towards him. There were a bunch of wand blanks all of the same size. “I need you to just feel the woods, and let me know how bendy you want your wand. More flexible is more subtle, less need for personality, while firmer woods tend to have much more personality and be very showy. I can see why a supple wand chose you, but the fact that you’re here, seeking out a wand backup via referral from Ludger means that you could easily work with a firmer wand and excel. What do you think?”

Harry thought about it, testing out the various flexibilities, until he found one that was rather nice to move around and felt natural to wave. “Hmm, Firm. I knew it. You’re probably more firm in personality as well, having grown up a bit more.”

Harry nodded as the last drawer went back into the case and it floated back to the backroom.

“Okay, so I have an idea for the wood, so don’t worry about that, but the core is going to be a problem. Have you decided what core you’re like? Or would you like to trust my judgement on the matter?”

Harry shrugged, “You’re the wandmaker here, I didn’t even intend to get my own wand.”

Mister Reison looked positively gleeful at Harry’s words, “Give me some time and I’ll bring it out to you!”

Harry went back to reading Transfiguration Today and figured he might subscribe to it. It seemed interesting. He was now reading an article about possible exemptions to the Principle Exemptions of Gamp’s Law which was the first thing that made him aware of the voice. He still didn’t particularly understand the theories the article was bouncing around, but it was still an interesting read.

Soon enough Mister Reison came back out with another piece of wood in his hands. It had a dark varnish, and rounded, with a fine texture that resembled snake scales. A fine filigree was carved into the wood that almost looked like words, but when Harry tried to read them they didn’t make sense. “Voila! A masterpiece, but I wouldn’t expect anything less for Harry Potter. I decided to fuse the woods together, harmony of elegance and power. With anyone else, I’d be fearful of this combination of wood, but I know I can trust you with it, they practically sing for you, and the cores, I decided to weave the Horned Serpent Horn and Basilisk horns together. A very unorthodox wand, one Garrick would probably have a fit over and try to commit me to Azkaban or St Mungo’s for, but it’s a work of art! A masterpiece. Try it out! Please try it out! Oh, and don’t aim it at me. I prefer to keep my limbs attached.” He laughed and clapped excitedly, but Harry could tell he was serious about that.

Harry stood up, and took a hold of the wand and poured a bit of magic into it. He expected something like the sparks and light that the holly wand had created, and when nothing happened he felt a little disappointed.

Until he felt it. The wood itself seemed to move under his grip, flexing like a snake and he heard a soft murmur. He couldn’t make out what it said, but he knew it was in Parseltongue. Though it sounded musical in nature, it was a comforting feeling though, making him think of it like an old friend, someone he hadn’t seen in a long time and welcomed back. It made him think of that time he spoke to the Burmese Python and how friendly it had been.

“Wow.” Harry said once the sound and sensation began to fade.

“Surprisingly subtle all things considered, but even I could feel the connection. Seems like that wand has already claimed you as its owner, no trials or tests whatsoever!”

“How much will both of these be?”

“50 galleons together. And I’ll throw in boxes, a cleaning kit, and two forearm holsters; Auror-issue.” Suddenly the man was all business.

Harry sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the coins and handing them to the man who counted them gleefully. “Wonderful doing business with you Mister Potter! Let me get your stuff all packed up discreetly .” He took the wands, and summoned two nice boxes with velvet interiors, a small box with cleaning supplies and clothes, and the two holsters, which he provided an explanation of how to use for Harry.

He slipped them into a plain brown paper shopping bag and handed it to Harry, “That should be everything. If you ever need discreet backups, or just want another wand, come to us Mister Potter, we’ll remember you.” Mister Reison conjured a piece of parchment which suddenly had a bunch of writing on it and he filed it into the cabinet right alongside Sirius’s file.

Harry nodded and put on his invisibility cloak before he exited the store, and rushed back to the Leaky Cauldron unseen. He had been gone far too long, he’d probably attract attention about it now, but he had gotten everything he needed.

When he slipped into his room after doing his knock, Padfoot came bounding up to him and licked his face.

“So I purchased the trunk. I had to pay extra for him to do it overnight, but he said that it will be delivered before we leave for the Express.”

Padfoot poked his nose at Harry’s coin filled pocket then up at him.

Harry was getting rather good at translating Padfoot-speak, “It wasn't that much.”

Padfoot levels a tilted stare at him.

“He discounted it for me being Harry Potter and all. 300. Plus 100 for the hurry.”

Padfoot barked at him, staring him down.

“But Padfoot, we need it. I spent another 50 as well after that getting you…this!” He reached into the bag and pulled out a box.

He could tell that Padfoot knew what it was the second he saw it and he quickly glanced up at Harry, confused.

“I know you said for me not to worry about it, but it's for if you ever let me transfigure you into a human again. It's your wand! I was lucky they kept it on file. Blackthorn, Rougarou Hair, 12 inches, surprisingly unyielding. I don't know when your birthday is, so consider this a thank you for being here for me.”

Padfoot continued to stare at him, though his eyes were glittering with an intense emotion. Harry didn’t know if dogs cried due to emotion, but Padfoot looked like he was going to.

He quickly pressed himself into Harry, and Harry hugged him tightly. He really couldn’t imagine how he had made it without Padfoot before. He’d only known him for a month, but Harry couldn’t imagine not having him with him ever again.

There was a part of him that was scared that when Padfoot became Sirius Black again he wouldn’t stay with Harry, that he wouldn’t need him, but Harry put that thought away. Padfoot said he wouldn’t leave. Ever. And Harry trusted that. Had to trust that.

“Okay, I have to go again. I’ve left Petunia with Hermione long enough, any longer and Hermione will get suspicious of what I was doing for so long. I’ll order some food for you and have them bring it up and place it on the nightstand. I’ll just tell them to leave it. When they knock hide under the cloak, okay?” Harry took out the cloak and draped it half over Padfoot so he could use it if needed.

Padfoot nodded and pressed his face into Harry’s softly, his tongue gently coming out and licking Harry’s cheek, accidently grazing the corner of Harry’s lips. “I love you, Padfoot. Please be safe.”

He barked softly and Harry was standing up again and heading towards the door. Before he exited, he looked back at Padfoot and smiled, “Don’t worry, Padfoot, things will work out. I can feel it.”

Padfoot barked once and laid his head down on the bed and closed his eyes, and Harry exited the door and locked it.

Before he left the Leaky Cauldron he paid for a meal and had them send it up to his room and leave it on his nightstand. The innkeeper Tom may have given him an odd look, but Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, and if he wanted a meal he wasn’t going to eat delivered to his room while he was out and left on his nightstand– who was the owner of the Leaky Cauldron to deny him that. He paid, and if the boy was a little cracked, well after all the things that happened to him, a little insanity was to be expected. He was a wizard, after all.

Harry paid Tom and cheerfully left the Leaky Cauldron.

Chapter Text

After leaving the Leaky Cauldron Harry went over to the ice cream parlour and found Petunia and Hermione sitting there still, talking. Hermione was animated as always, her fountain pen– which she liked to use when not at Hogwarts– was moving across the page of a journal with ease as she talked to Petunia.

Petunia on the other hand was actually smiling, genuinely in fact! 

Harry found that it made her look far younger and kinder when she smiled like that. Something he didn’t think he had ever really seen before. Not with him around. Maybe she smiled like that with Vernon when he wasn’t there, but Harry had never been on the receiving end of it. It made her look far less horse-like than he used to think, younger and happier, though even when she smiled there was a shadow of sadness in her expression, one that Harry understood. It was a longing for something long gone, something that could never be given back.

He hoped that she would really change for the better and not go back to how she had been before.

“Aunt Petunia! Hermione! Sorry for the wait. Someone started talking to me and next thing I knew I was shaking people’s hands and the time was flying by.” It was a lie, obviously, but it happened enough that Hermione would accept it without much questioning, and Petunia wouldn’t know enough to doubt it.

Hermione looked up from her notes and smiled warmly when she saw Harry, reaching up to wave with the hand that had her fountain pen in it, “That’s alright! Me and your Aunt were just talking. I was showing her my pictures from France and she was telling me about one time she had gone to Rome when she was our age. I’ve never been to Rome!”

“It was a school trip for a week, my parents let me go since Lily got to go to Hogwarts….” Petunia said, slightly embarrassed by the attention. That must have been in the 70s then. Harry didn’t know much about Rome, especially during the 70s, but it seemed that whatever Petunia had been telling Hermione, the Gryffindor girl had been eating it up.

“Rome has such a storied history, both Muggle and Wizarding! I’ve been thinking about going in the future, but now I definitely have to go one day!” Hermione had that look on her face that told Harry she was already mentally planning the itinerary for this future trip, organized to every half hour judging by the amount of notes she was taking. “Oh, we still have a few hours until the Weasleys arrive, do you have any plans Harry?”

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t really had any plans, but he suddenly thought of something that might help smooth over his future relations with the Dursleys, “I was thinking that I could show Aunt Petunia around to a few shops, get her a few things.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I’ve never shopped for things for a Muggle in Diagon Alley. This will be exciting and informational! You’ll need me, obviously, since you, Harry, have no sense of style whatsoever.” Hermione looked him up and down with an apologetic shrug.

“Hey, I have style.” Harry said, glancing down at his clothes. Maybe Hermione was right though as they were rather plain, and these were the clothes he himself had picked out when Vernon had brought him shopping.

“On a broom maybe , but in anything else? Not so much.” She said jokingly.

Harry grimaced playfully, reaching up to clutch at his chest, as he laughed. “I was thinking we could get her some wizarding clothes, that way she doesn’t stand out too much.”

Hermione looked excited by the idea, “That’s a wonderful idea! Madam Malkin’s should be a good choice. We would probably get looks at Twilfitt and Tattings.” Hermione said, putting the notebook into her bag carefully and capping her fountain pen and sliding it into the stationary section in the front of her bag.

The hardest part about this whole thing was getting Aunt Petunia comfortable with the idea of wearing a robe and pointy hat. She had spent so long hating magic and witches due to her past, but now they just had to break past that final barrier.

She had protested, but the more that Harry and Hermione talked, and the more witches she saw walking around the less enthusiastically she seemed to protest until they were sure she was just protesting on principle and she had already decided she did want one.

Harry had gone to Madam Malkin’s for most of his clothes shopping for school robes and cloaks, but he had seen racks and racks of robes for adult witches and wizards as well, and had seen a sign outside telling customers to inquire about custom pieces.

Madam Malkin had initially seemed confused as to why a Muggle woman was in her shop, but once she saw Harry Potter, that confusion fizzled up and she instantly began to fawn over him as most shopkeepers did, wanting the wonderful Boy-Who-Lived to buy their products.

However, when he had tried to explain that he wanted to buy his aunt a set of robes, Madam Malkin seemed hesitant, as if wardrobing a muggle was some foreign concept

“This is my aunt, Lily Potter’s sister.”

Harry could see that made Madam Malkin change her mind as she immediately got to work with a somber expression on her face, having Petunia stand in front of a mirror and taking all sorts of measurements, with Harry and Hermione explaining that all the enchanted tape measures were to ensure the robes were perfectly tailored.

“What’s your favorite color, Missus Dursley?” Hermione asked, looking through some of the robes on display, flipping between a purple one and a viridian one, her tongue poking out as she kept flipping between them in indecision.

“Oh, uhh. I prefer floral patterns, but I was thinking…a red? Lily always wore a lot of red.” Petunia’s face was emotionless, but Harry could hear the sadness in her words. Maybe this wasn’t as good a decision as he had thought. Maybe giving her a taste of being a witch that she could never really have was going to make it worse for her.

Harry hadn’t thought about that before now.

“She was a Gryffindor. Like Harry and I.” Hermione replied, and her voice was soft and understanding, and it hurt Harry to hear because it made him think of how little he knew about his own mother.

Petunia nodded once, “Maybe something in red. Yes, red would be perfect for Lily.” She looked at herself in the mirror, and Harry could see a bit of sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sure it’ll look wonderful, Missus Dursley!” Hermione said, comfortingly, and Harry smiled at her in the mirror.

Madam Malkin finished gathering up the measurements and brought a few bolts of fabric to them. She had seemed like she wanted to ask Harry for his opinion at first, but as soon as she took in his wardrobe she immediately went towards Petunia and Hermione.

In the end they settled on a nice dark burgundy silk. Petunia at first wanted to protest, mostly out of obligation towards the extravagant material, but when Harry saw her eyes light up when Madam Malkin held it in front of her in the mirror, Harry knew he was going to buy it for her.

It was partially for Petunia, and also for himself. For the mother he had never known.

As soon as the robe was fitted properly, Madam Malkin came back with a hat for Petunia of the same color, the tip curled at an angle that Madam Malkin said was all the rage with witches Petunia’s age and Harry purchased it without letting Petunia get a protest in edgewise.

He had her put the robe and hat on before they left, and Harry knew she loved it by the way her eyes watered.

“I wish Lily could have seen me in this.”

“I’m sure she’s watching right now.” Harry replied without thinking, not wanting his own emotions to bubble up from their carefully crafted hiding spaces.

If she could never be a witch properly, then well she could look the part Harry figured. In the end, that was all Harry could do to try and heal that decades old wound in Petunia’s heart, in hopes that maybe his own could one day been healed.

He couldn’t give Petunia Hogwarts, but he could give her this .

And that made him feel good.

He could see that looking the part made Petunia feel more at ease as they walked through Diagon Alley now. People weren’t looking at her oddly anymore, many of them unused to Muggles in Diagon, but now they just considered her a witch they hadn’t seen before, and she suddenly seemed far more excited, in her own Dursley way. She didn’t show it, not outwardly, but the way she’d ask Hermione questions, or smile when she thought Harry wasn’t looking, let Harry know this was as healing for her as it was for him.

Hermione appreciated each and every one of Petunia’s questions no matter how mundane or simple they seemed, simply grateful that she was able to show off her knowledge to “someone who would appreciate it” as they went to different shops.

When they walked past the Quidditch supply store and broomshop, Hermione had to physically pull Harry away from the display window.

In the display was the most beautiful broom Harry had ever laid eyes on, even more beautiful than his own Nimbus, he had to admit. He had a feeling if he had this broom, there would be no other that could ever replace it in his eyes.

But he had his Nimbus and he loved it dearly, he wouldn’t replace it when the Nimbus was still his faithful stead.

That didn’t mean he could appreciate the utter artisanship that had gone into the new broom’s design and crafting. It was apparently called the “Firebolt” and Harry would probably fantasize about that broom. He had already spent far too much money today, and as much as he wanted to ask about the price, he had to restrain himself. He knew he was wealthy, but he would need to find a way of making more money before he started throwing it around like he had today again.

It was easy to buy things for others, but Harry felt…guilty…purchasing anything for himself.

By the end of their shopping run, which left Harry carrying most of the bags in an attempt to seem, and feel, more manly. Harry had bought Petunia enough beauty tonics and makeup that according to the witch running the beauty store should easily last her the year.

He also bought her some little items that would make her life at Privet Drive a bit easier, once Hermione assured him that they didn’t register as using active magic for purposes such as underage magic or magic in front of Muggles. After all, she explained, his Hogwarts Trunk was magical and it didn’t get him in trouble whenever he put stuff inside of it even though it was using magic.

He bought her a hair brush that would do her hair for her, a blanket that was always just warm or just cool enough to sleep comfortably, a platter that kept any food on it at the perfect temperature without changing, and a music box that helped one sleep better and wake up refreshed.

They were simple magical items, but simple useful items were probably the best stepping stone items to get the Dursleys used to magic.

He was worried more might get both of them in trouble, but Petunia was grateful nonetheless.

It wasn’t long before the hours passed and the Weasleys would be arriving at the Cauldron soon, so they headed back to put Petunia’s new things in her room.

Harry popped back into his room to check on Padfoot, glad that he had eaten his nice meal, going to hug him while Padfoot only opened a single eye from his slumber, leaned up to lick across Harry’s face lazily while Harry told him a quick version of what had happened during the trip. Padfoot nuzzled into the crook of Harry’s neck while he spoke and actually fell back asleep to the sound of Harry speaking, before Harry realized he’d have to go again and Padfoot licked him a few times on the face, once more causing his tongue to slowly slide against the corner of Harry’s lip which made Harry blush as it was almost like a kiss, though he was sure that Padfoot didn’t even think that.

When Harry had to leave and mentioned the Weasleys, Padfoot woke up and let out a low growl, almost climbing on top of Harry as if to keep him there with him, though he calmed himself down and laid down fully on Harry for a few moments before rolling off and going back to sleep after licking him again.

Whatever it was, Padfoot seemed very touchy about the Weasleys. Harry would have to keep an eye on that.

When he left the room, reluctantly, he went to the bannister of the upper floor overlooking the parlour.

“Harry!”

He heard Ron shout out from below in the parlour of the Leaky Cauldron and Harry rushed out and down the stairs, pulling Ron into a big hug. “Ron! How have you been? 

“Great! I liked the sun! How about you?”

“Good actually. I had a pretty good summer! I actually had Hermione over for dinner about a week ago. How was the trip to Egypt? Your letters had more sand than ink in them!”

Ron laughed, but like Hermione he was much darker than he had been at the end of term. “It was bloody brilliant! They had mummies and we even saw a sphinx!”

“You saw a sphinx? In person? Really?” Hermione asked, coming down the stairs with a grin on her face before she hugged Ron as well.

“Well, we saw her at a distance.” Ron said, shrugging meekly.

“Well we saw her.”

“Ron was too scared to get closer!”

Fred and George appeared, walking up and each leaning on Ron’s shoulder with an elbow, causing him to grimace as they dug them in.

“Fred. George.” Harry said, smiling at each twin in turn.

“Hey Harry, how was your summer? Those Dursleys starving you again?”

“Yeah, sorry we weren’t there to break you out of that place.”

“Actually we’re getting on rather well now.” Harry admitted, and it was the truth. Vernon had actually removed almost all the restraints on his room besides turning one of the locks inwards so Harry could have privacy.

“Wow! Do you hear this, Freddie?”

“I can’t believe my ears, Georgie.”

“Little Harrikins getting along with his aunt and uncle?”

“Next thing you know we’ll hear that McGonagall’s quit teaching and became a cabaret dancer!” They joked, and Harry laughed and then cringed once his brain formed the mental image of Professor McGonagall doing the can-can in bloomers

“You imagined it too, huh, Harry?” Fred said, smirking widely, his teeth gleaming in the light of the Leaky Cauldron.

George smirked at him as well, his smirk just as mischievous as Fred’s, “Don’t worry, we’ll keep your salacious carnal desires for old Minnie a secret. After all-”

“You’re our favorite brother.” They spoke in unison which made Harry realize that they were actually rather handsome, far more so than Ron.

They both reached over and ruffled Harry’s hair roughly, pushing him a bit, but Harry didn’t mind, that’s just how the twins were after all. They didn’t seem to realize that they sometimes came off as cruel, but Harry had dealt with worse, and he knew they never meant it like that and so it had quickly become a sort of positive cruelty in his eyes, something that meant they viewed him as an equal, someone who could take what they dished out.

“Hey! What about me?” Ron cried out, looking between his older brothers scandalized.

“You’re our brother?” George asked, looking at Fred as if this were some insane idea.

“News to me!”

“I thought you were our pet troll we humored.”

“I always assumed he was the uglier twin of the ghoul in the attic.”

“That’s just mean!” Ron looked ashamed and upset by the jokes, though Harry couldn’t help but find them humorous. If he understood they were merely teasing, Ron should have easily understood it by now, having lived with them for years and all.

“Are they wrong, Ron?” Harry retorted with a smirk and the twins reached over to clasp a hand each on Harry’s shoulders.

“That’s our favorite brother for you!”

“Does that make him Harry Weasley?”

“Or us Fred and George Potter?”

“Questions.”

“Questions.” They both placed their other hand on their chin as if in deep thought.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Harry!” Ron said, blushing a deep red behind all his new freckles.

“Boys, if we could stop the jokes.” Hermione said, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a disappointed frown on her face.

“Fine, fine.”

“We’ll stop. It’s too easy with Ronnikins after all.”

“He just sets up the jokes.”

“And we knock them down.”

“Can’t blame us for doing what the gods put us on this earth to do!” They stood tall and puffed their chests out as they snickered.

Ron scowled at them, “And what’s that? Be colossal prats?”

“Always be the funniest men in the room! Obviously!”

“And the most handsome!”

“Can’t forget the most handsome! Though I’d say that Fred here is probably a bit more handsome than I am, right Fred?” George said, smiling sweetly at his twin and fluttering his lashes.

“Not one bit, George, you are most certainly the most handsome of us.” Fred fluttered his lashes at him in return, both of them making exaggerated kissing noises at each other while Ron looked like he’d gag.

Harry laughed brightly, they were always so animated and over-the-top that Harry couldn’t help but find them entertaining, “You’re nearly identical, you’re both the same amount of handsome as the other! Just in different ways!”

“There we go!” They said in unison, “That’s the stuff, Harry knows how to appeal to us!” The twins always went out of their way to make Harry laugh, and he did always appreciate it.

“No wonder he’s our favorite brother, after each other of course.”

“No question.”

“Oh, Harry! There you are dear!” Harry looked up when he heard a woman’s voice and suddenly he was wrapped in the arms of Molly Weasley, who was tutting about him and trying to fix his hair, even though they both knew it was pointless.

“Mrs Weasley. How was your summer?” Harry asked politely, hugging her back awkwardly.

She was a very tactile person, but Harry had never felt completely comfortable getting hugs from her. She always squeezed just a bit too hard and he wasn’t used to people hugging him so often without warning.

“It was lovely, dear. So much sand though! I didn’t even know you could have that much sand in one place! You should have seen Ginny that one time. You know how short she still is, and we were suddenly in the middle of a sandstorm. Apparently a dust devil, nasty little buggers apparently, and when we shooed it away, Ginny was gone ! Oh, we were worried sick trying to find her.”

“She had simply been buried under a sandpile by the dust devil and was trying to get Molly’s attention the entire time, but Molly couldn’t hear her over the sound of her own worrying.” Mr Weasley said, walking up and placing his hand out for Harry to shake, which Harry did firmly.

“It was just one time!” Ginny said, walking up behind them, she smiled up at him blushing, “Hi, Harry. How was your summer?”

Harry knew that Ginny had a crush on him, and she was a nice girl; pushy, but nice. He was still working through the fact that he liked blokes, and it was awkward to try and pretend he didn’t notice the way she stared at him. “It was fine.”

“That’s not what we heard, is it Fred?” The twins cut in again.

“We heard that you blew up your aunt! Sent her floating across Surrey like a balloon lost by a child.”

“Must have felt good huh?” They both leaned in again and whispered conspiratorially. Harry shrugged, but grinned, and then clapped their hands on his shoulders again, and Harry liked how included they made him feel.

“That’s our Harry!” The words made Harry grinned brightly, very proud of himself.

“Oh, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley. I’d like for you to meet my Aunt Petunia. She came with me today and is going to be driving me to King’s Cross tomorrow.” Harry said once he noticed that Petunia had joined them moments before and was standing behind them, watching cautiously. He wanted to be polite and make his aunt feel welcomed.

She stepped up, placing her hand out dutifully, “How do you do? I’m Petunia Dursley.”

Molly gave her a look over, while Arthur looked far more pleased to meet her.

Harry noticed Molly’s disapproving glance when Petunia was distracted by Arthur introducing himself and beginning to ask her questions about muggle items. He figured it was because of the stories she had been told about her, but he doubted it when her eyes flicked towards Arthur who was still holding onto Petunia’s hand, even if the handshake was done.

Was that jealousy ? Harry had no idea why though, but judging by the knowing smirks and whispers the twins were sharing, and the eyebrow waggling, Harry felt that might indeed be correct.

Harry stepped up to Petunia, shielding her from Molly Weasley’s gaze. He and Petunia may not have be on close terms, even still, but he didn’t like the way that Molly was looking at her, like she’d hex her right then and there, “Mr Weasley here loves all things Muggle.”

Arthur nodded cheerfully, still holding onto Petunia’s hand as he smiled enthusiastically, “It’s my obsession, practically! I love how you Muggles do things without magic. It’s just so fascinating to me! I don’t get to speak with Muggles often, being a wizard and all, so I take any opportunity to do so! So Mrs Dursley, what is it you do? I hear that many married Muggle women are very keen to pursue careers. How fascinating!”

“Oh, I’m actually a housewife. My husband is the director of a drill manufacturing company; Grunnings.”

Arthur looked utterly fascinated, his other hand joining his first as he took a small step closer, “What does he manufacture drills for?” He finally let go of her hand to pull out a memo pad that had flowers on it, and an oversized pencil from his jacket pocket and began writing it down.

Petunia tried not to stare at the odd choice of writing implements, but Harry was used to it, “Oh, it depends. They take commissions for all kinds of drills. Mostly mining, but there’s some for construction, and some for more finer work. I used to work there as well. I was a clerk, that’s actually how me and Vernon met.” She admitted, blushing as she recalled it.

“Fascinating. Do Muggles like drills?”

“Uh, some do, I assume.” She replied, glancing at Harry who shrugged.

Harry decided to save Aunt Petunia from more questions, “So Mr Weasley, what’s it like being back in Britain after being in warm Egypt.”

“Cold!” He said laughing, as he turned slightly towards Harry, occasionally glancing at Petunia, “It’s still summer, but it got sweltering there. Makes even the summers here feel downright autumnal!”

“Sorry, dad, mum, I was hoping that me and Harry could hang out, since we haven’t seen each other all summer!” Ron spoke up, interrupting Arthur from saying more.

“Oh, of course, son. We should get checked in and get our bags transferred to our rooms. Harry, one moment please about what happened earlier this month, if you would.” Arthur Weasley spoke, gesturing for Harry to join him over to the side while the rest of the Weasleys.went about moving their luggage.

Before they could speak Hermione came rushing over, “Sorry, Mister Weasley.” She turned to Harry, “Harry, give me some Galleons! I want to bring your aunt to Flourish and Blotts! She mentioned that she liked reading novels, and I want to show her a few of my favorites!” She was nearly bouncing with excitement.

Harry chuckled and shook his head at how excited Hermione was at the idea of simply suggesting novels to someone else and extracted a handful of Galleons from his pocket and handed them to Hermione who looked positively ecstatic, shoving them into her bag, before hugging him tightly, “Thank you so much, Harry! It’s nice to have someone who listens to me and is actually curious about what I’m talking about!” She then rushed over to Petunia who was standing awkwardly, watching them interact.

Harry waved them off when Hermione put her arm through Petunia’s and was practically dragging her off to the bookstore.

Arthur coughed slightly to get Harry’s attention once more, leaning in so he was close to Harry and lowering his voice so that only Harry could hear him.

“Harry, I’m going to be quick. Molly would probably kill me if she found out I was telling you this. She thinks that you shouldn’t have to worry about this as you’re just a child, but I think you deserve to know as you’re already a man.” Arthur took a deep breath, “Have you been reading the Prophet lately?”

Harry shook his head, he hadn’t read the Prophet for about a month now, “Not particularly. I was thinking of getting a subscription to Transfiguration Today though. Why?”

Arthur leaned in, and Harry could smell his aftershave. It was minty. “The Ministry is trying to keep intimate details on it suppressed, but a little more than a month ago there was an incident at Azkaban. You know Azkaban, right?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, the inescapable wizard prison.”

Arthur nodded in return, “Yes, well, turns out it’s not completely inescapable.”

Harry frowned, “You’re saying someone escaped Azkaban?”

“Yes, they’ve put out notices for his arrest everywhere, even on the Muggle news, but he’s a slippery one. Always has been. His-”

“He’s going to try and kill me isn’t he?” Harry interrupted, he could already figure out where this conversation was going.

Arthur looked dumbfounded, leaning back from Harry in shock, “How’d you know?”

“Mr Weasley, someone is always trying to kill me. I was hoping this year would break the trend, but I’m not particularly surprised, if we’re being honest. Makes what Fudge said about ‘current events’ make sense now.”

Harry had a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it away.

Arthur looked a tad saddened by Harry’s comments, “Well, yes, he is. He was… You-Know-Who’s biggest supporter, lost everything the day you killed him. Was a raving lunatic. Laughed hysterically when they caught him after he killed all those muggles. Now that he’s escaped…”

“You think he’s going to try and kill me to get revenge?”

Arthur’s nod was sharp and he was clearly worried, “He’s going to try. He’s vicious and as soon as he finds you he will kill you, Harry. That’s why I need you to promise me that you won’t go looking for him.”

Harry titled his head. The request didn’t make any sense to Harry, “Mr Weasley, why would I want to go looking for someone who wants to kill me?”

Arthur looked conflicted, he swallowed heavily and was about to open his mouth to answer, when Molly came around the corner, glaring at them, well mostly Arthur, but also Harry like she knew that Harry was trying to get information from her husband that he wasn’t supposed to share.

“And that’s why you should never lose control of your emotions like that, Harry! Imagine if things had been worse!” Arthur instantly said, raising his voice slightly, holding a finger in front of him as if chastising Harry like a parent or teacher.

“Of course, Mr Weasley. I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t.” Harry nodded, acting the part Arthur needed him to act so Mrs Weasley couldn’t yell at him about telling Harry, but also responding to his real request.

Arthur gave him a look, one that Harry was sure said all it needed to and Harry nodded and left, heading towards the front door where Ron was waiting.

“What were you and my dad talking about?” Ron asked, glancing between Harry and where his parents were now, with Arthur walking quickly away from Molly who was following him, already ready to lecture him about something.

“Oh, he was just lecturing me on what happened last month, with my other aunt and all.” Harry said, eagerly walking out the door, trying to avoid having to talk about it.

Harry walked with Ron through Diagon Alley, listening to him talk about his trip, and complaining about Percy being made Head Boy and how pompous he had been acting about it, and all about random little things that the boy thought up that suddenly felt so boring to Harry now that he had more pressing concerns to deal with.

Harry nodded and responded at the right times, and Ron continued talking, but Harry wasn’t really listening.

He was thinking about what Mr Weasley had told him, and about his trunk, and about Padfoot, and about the way some of the wizards walking through Diagon caught his eye, and the fact that he wanted to walk down Knockturn openly, and maybe visit Horizont and Cakitt. 

But mostly he was thinking of Padfoot. Almost completely really. He wished he could walk with him freely through Diagon, buying him food from the stalls and getting him things.

He couldn’t go and check on him yet, as Ron would want to see the stuff he had gotten and then want to hang out in Harry’s room till they had to go to sleep, and with Padfoot there, Harry didn’t want to do that.

Couldn’t do that.

He knew that if he couldn’t tell Hermione about Padfoot, he most certainly couldn’t tell Ron. 

Ron would never understand, especially if Harry told him that Padfoot was actually a man, and that Harry had let him sleep in his bed every night since they had met, especially since Harry was sure that Padfoot was almost certainly a criminal.

Harry knew how weird that sounded…He truly did. But it made him feel warm and tingly inside knowing that a criminal wizard named Sirius was sharing his bed with him as a dog. All of those facts together each added their own perverse little thrills to Harry, until the thought nearly made him shiver in delight.

A wizard in his bed!

It was a scandalous thought, something that made Harry feel a little rebellious, though it wasn’t nearly as indecent as it sounded, or as vulgar as Harry would have liked it.

He actually let out a chuckle when he realized that was what made him feel rebellious, and not the blackmarket purchases of illegal goods to smuggle a man inside of Hogwarts, as well as supply him with a wand.

The fact that he let an adult criminal wizard sleep with him in his bed every night, draped over his body, as a dog.

“What’s so funny, Harry?” Ron asked, looking at Harry with a bit of a frown. He had just been in the middle of describing their trip under the pyramid when Harry just started chuckling out of nowhere.

“Sorry, I just thought of something funny.”

“Well, what is it?”

Harry shook his head, trying to suppress the weird grin on his face, one that Ron always associated with boys who were thinking about the girls they liked or their girlfriends, “It’s nothing, just a Muggle thing.”

Ron frowned as he turned back towards the street. 

Harry seemed to be acting weird today. He had brought his aunt, who Ron knew he hated, to Diagon Alley and bought her robes. He and Hermione were closer, to the point where Harry had invited her over to his house during the summer. Harry just handed Hermione Galleons when she asked for them. And now she was off shopping with his aunt? Were they dating ?

Was that what Harry had been chuckling about? Him and Hermione meeting up while Ron was out of the country?

And then there was his talk with his father who had pulled him aside to talk to him, and Ron could tell it wasn’t about blowing up his aunt, and then Harry lied to his face about it.

He was barely paying attention to Ron and now was laughing about dating Hermione!

Ron tried to let the issue go. He’d just have to keep an eye on Harry more, try and get him to actually tell him things. Though knowing Harry was keeping secrets and lying to him made him upset, and the idea of him dating Hermione and not telling him made his blood boil.

“Ron, do you know flying carpets used to be used in Britain?” Harry asked suddenly, interrupting the previous topic without much care.

“Yeah, dad helped ban them about a decade ago, why?” Arthur was the one who had done it?! The one Ludgar had been insulting earlier?!

“What? Why’d they ban carpets?” Harry looked at Ron as if that were something horrible.

“Well, they’re muggle artefacts.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, confused.

“Well, it’s illegal to charm muggle artefacts for things they’re not meant to do.”

“But if carpets are Muggle artefacts, then why aren’t brooms banned too?”

“Because brooms are brooms , Harry! Why would anyone want to ban brooms?!”

“But they’re muggle artefacts as well. Muggles use brooms all the time. By that logic, the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts should have banned brooms as well.”

“Yeah, but carpets are a risk to secrecy!”

“Any more than brooms are?”

“What’s with your new obsession with flying carpets?” Ron asked, incredulously, looking at Harry like he had told him something dirty.

“It’s not the carpets themselves, it’s the principle behind it, Ron. Why are brooms allowed when carpets are not? They’re both easily classified as Muggle artefacts. They both do the same thing. Why is one banned and the other not? Carpets are great for families! And you can have people fly on a carpet with you. I would love to fly on a carpet! They’re almost just as famous as broomsticks to Muggles.”

“Yeah, but carpets aren’t brooms .”

“I’m aware of that, Ron, I’m not stupid you know.” Harry said aggressively, his lip pulling back in a sneer that made Ron suddenly see every Slytherin who looked down on him for being a poor Weasley..

“What’s your problem today, Harry?” Ron demanded, scowling at Harry, trying not to see red at the idea of Harry looking down at him..

“What are you talking about, Ron? What’s your problem?”

“You. You’re acting weird, Harry!”

“I am not!”

“You totally are!” Ron shouted at Harry in the middle of Diagon Alley, causing a few witches and wizards to stop and stare at them.

“Well, excuse me for having a lot on my shoulders, Ronald.” Harry retorted, scowling. “Sorry I’m bringing your wonderful mood down with it.”

“Well, that’s bloody fine, blame it all on me ! It’s not like Ron Weasley has anything he has to worry about. No, it’s just all sunshine and rainbows for Ron!”

“What is this really about, Ron?” Harry asked, glaring at him, “I don’t get why you’re being such a git.”

“ I’m a git?” Ron asked, nearly hysterically. “Well that’s rich coming from you ! You know how hard it is being your friend, Harry?! I’ve almost died for you the past two years, and I’m being a git !?”

“Yes, Ron, you are! I just wanted to have a pleasant day in Diagon Alley and then you start accusing me of acting weird then getting all passive aggressive with me, and then started shouting! And if being my friend is soooo hard , well, no one’s making you do it!”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going, huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t ask to get into those kinds of situations, you know, Ron! I want to have a normal school year when no one is trying to kill me , and just be normal. I don’t want fame, I don’t want to have to worry about if I’m going to die before I even become an adult. I don’t want any of that! And somehow it’s my fault you’re upset. If danger to my mortal life is inconvenient to you, no one’s forcing you to stay. I’m sure you can hang out with Dean, or Seamus, or Neville. They’re loads less dangerous than me.”

“So what? You don’t want to be my friend anymore?”

“Ron, you’re the one saying that it’s so hard to be friends with Harry Potter. Must be absolutely horrible .”

“So I go out of my way to be your first friend, and then get tossed aside? Well that’s bloody hilarious . You’re throwing away your oldest friend over flying carpets !”

“I don’t care about the flying fucking carpets!” Harry shouted, “I was just curious about them!”

“Why the hell would I know about them then?!”

“Because your dad was the one who banned them! God, Ron, I can’t believe you right now. If you think it’s hard being friends with me, imagine how it’s like being me.” Harry glared at him and walked away towards Flourish and Blotts.

“Yeah, you walk away! You’re such a self-absorbed prat! If it weren’t for you I would have had a great time these past two years! I could do so much better than a- than a- freak like you for a friend!”

“Whatever, Ron. Sorry I ruined your life. Don’t worry, I won’t involve you in mine any more.” Harry didn’t look back as he stalked towards Flourish and Blotts, trying to ignore all the witches and wizards, young and old, staring at him after that. He kept his head down and tried not to get emotional.

So what?

It wasn’t like Harry was going to let Ron’s stupid words get to him.

He wasn’t going to cry over something Ron had said to him. He wasn’t going to give Ron the satisfaction.

He entered the shop and ignored the greeting he got, but before he could find Hermione and Petunia, he realized he didn’t want to see Hermione right now. She’d probably find some way to lecture Harry about it, and he didn’t want to hear it.

Ron had just started freaking out at him out of nowhere, and then he had the audacity to call him a freak. In public!

The thought burned, and made Harry’s eyes grow cloudy as he had to fight back tears. How could Ron say that to him? He thought they were friends… Apparently he hadn’t know Ron as well as he thought he had.

He walked back out of the store and stalked back off towards the Leaky Cauldron. He needed to be alone. Which meant alone with Padfoot.

He got about five steps past Flourish and Blotts when he was pulled into a tiny alley, but before he could shout two hands were covering his mouth.

“Well, that was a nasty breakup!”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Harry!”

It was just Fred and George. Harry let himself relax and when they pulled their hands from his mouth, Harry leaned against the wall. “What are you two doing?” His voice was terse, and he reached up and scrubbed the errant moisture from his eyes with his sleeve.

“We were hoping to sneak down into Knockturn to look into some…business ventures.”

“You know, some things that dear old mum and dad might not look too favorably upon.”

“Then as we’re sneaking around, we heard something truly tragic!”

“Your torrid breakup with Ron!”

Harry scowled. He didn’t like them referring to it like that. Ron wasn’t even attractive to Harry., “He just started acting all stupid out of nowhere.”

“Ahh well, that’s just Ronald Billeus Weasley for you.”

“Stupid is as stupid does.”

Harry felt a little angry at their words at first, but then remembered that he was fighting with Ron right now and felt a little vindicated that his brothers were siding with him .

“What kind of…business ventures are you looking into?”

“Well, nothing really serious yet, but-”

“We’ve been wanting to open our own joke store!”

They looked downright euphoric at the idea, their blue eyes filled with mischief, “Like Zonko’s?”

“Better than Zonko’s!”

“Blow them out of the water!”

“Turns out though, that starting up a business is rather hard. What with all the paperwork, and taxes, and fees, and Ministry bullshit.”

“We’ve heard talk of certain shops in Knockturn being rather amiable to… Well, let’s call ourselves…”

“Entrepreneurs.”

Harry scoffed, he’d been called that just earlier today, and Harry knew exactly what kind of shops they were curious about. “You’re not going to get far if you don’t have the money for those kinds of shops, you two. Plus there’s Aurors patrolling the area this time of day looking for suspicious people, they’ll definitely drag you back to Diagon and tell your dad.”

Fred and George smirked between them, “It seems you know more about business than we thought, Mister Potter.”

“Are we right in assuming that?”

“I’m not sure if I should answer that question to two sons of a Ministry worker who cracks down on that sort of thing.”

“Aha! So we were right!”

“I told you George! I told you as soon as I saw you today, Harry. I said to Georgie, ‘That there’s a man who knows how to stick it to the Ministry.’”

“I thought you said, ‘Hey, do you think Harry’s ever done anything illegal?’”

“Close enough.”

“So have you?”

“Done what?” Harry asked, turning between the both as they spoke.

“Anything illegal?”

“Do you really expect me to answer that?” Harry leveled an incredulous glance at them.

“Come on, Harry! We’ll love you forever!”

“You’ll be instantly elevated to our favorite brother!”

“I thought I already was.”

“Yes, well, you’ll be our favorite brother of all time!”

Harry pursed his lips and then grinned, “Well, I guess that does sound nice. What else do I get for answering the question?”

They looked at each other, “You get to replace Ron as our brother!”

Harry laughed mischievously, “Well, in that case! I guess it won’t hurt to say that I ended up dropping a large sum of Galleons today on something I’m sure your Father would have a heart attack if he knew I purchased. Would probably make your mother disown me in shame.”

“Wicked.” They said in unison.

Harry felt cool right now with Fred and George looking at him like he was something incredible. They were always the cool ones, but Harry figured engaging in blackmarket business seemed to be something they hadn’t partaken in yet.

That felt nice.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that they were nice on the eyes, so Harry felt a little giddy that they were being so accepting of him.

“Ron doesn’t know what he’s throwing away! If we had you and your invisibility cloak, with our map, then we’d be unstoppable at Hogwarts!” Fred said, grinning at George who nodded gleefully.

“Map?”

“We’ll tell you about it at Hogwarts, it’s better if we show it to you.”

“Oh, by the way, are you dating little Granger?”

Harry blinked a few times at the sudden question, “What?”

“Well, we heard you say that you had Hermione over during the summer, and you two seem awfully close now, giving her Galleons-”

“By the way, can we borrow some?”

“How much?”

“20 should be good.”

Harry fished them out of his pocket and handed them to George, who split them with Fred, pocketing them quickly.

“And her going off with your aunt.”

“Oh, by the way, good on you for whatever you did to them.”

“Well, it makes it seem like you two are dating.”

The twins were masters of confusing people when they spoke, but Harry had been learning how to properly decipher their double-teaming, and shook his head, “No, I’m not dating Hermione. I don’t like her like that. I don’t like-”

“Girls?”

Harry swallowed heavily and tried not to let the sudden dread he suddenly felt slow on his face.

“We figured it out your first year.”

“Just wanted to see you squirm a bit.”

“It’s obvious you’re not dating her. You don’t look at her like you think of those kinds of things when you see her.”

“What kinds of things?” Harry squeaked out.

Fred waggled his eyebrows, and George made an obscene hand gesture, and Harry flushed a deep red.

“ That sort of thing.” Fred answered, gesturing to George who was still making the gestures and laughing.

“Well- I mean- Of course I don’t.”

“So…tell us, got any blokes you’re into?”

“Yeah, come on, Harry, you can tell your favorite new brothers!”

“Ooooh, probably an upperyear!”

“He looks like he’d like Cedric.”

“Diggory? The Hufflepuff?”

“That’s the one. Or maybe Wood?”

“Oh, you dog, Harry!” 

Harry blushed at the sudden thought of Oliver Wood naked.

“Have you taken peeks at him in the showers after matches or practice? He gets very excited during the game.”

“Check for yourself after the first practice! They don’t call him ‘Wood’ for nothing!” They both nearly snorted at their pun, and at the way Harry was red at the idea.

“Or!” George turned to Fred with a devious grin, “Marcus Flint!”

“Oooo! Harry! Sleeping with the enemy! Your Azkaban-baiting little dog! We didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Make sure to steal Slytherin’s playbook if you see it next time you’re in Marcus’s bed!”

Fred paused, and his smirk grew more mischievous by the second and Harry knew he was going to be even more embarrassed by whatever he said next, “Or maybe little Harry here is too mature for school boys, George.”

“He does seem like that, doesn’t he, Fred?”

“I’m going to stop you right there!” Harry said, finally getting his voice back, letting out a high pitched squeak as it broke in embarrassment.

“Aw, come on, Harry, we don't get to tease a homo too often. The girls start smacking us when we try and joke like this with them, but guys get it, all in good fun. Besides, we don’t care who you’re sleeping with.”

“Or want to sleep with!”

“Yeah, you’re cool, we don’t care one bit. Though do make sure they’re at least attractive.”

“Seriously, we can’t have our little brother out there being attracted to-” They gasped in sync, “Ugly people!”

Harry couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped from his lips.

“There we go. It’s better when you’re laughing.”

“Yeah, don’t let Ron make you unhappy. You’re too cool for that!” They both gently punched him in the opposite arms and it helped Harry relax.

Harry smiled warmly, suddenly much more okay than he had been before they had pulled him into the alley, “Thanks you two. When we get to Hogwarts…Maybe I’ll show you what I got. But you have to promise that you won’t tell a single soul! Got it?”

They both crossed their hearts.

“I know you two don’t have hearts.”

They crossed their crotches, and Harry rolled his eyes as they smirked.

“Well, as long as you know your bits are on the line if you tell, then fine, I can accept that.”

“You can call it a dick Harry, we won’t lecture you about language.”

“Or cock.”

“Weiner.”

“Dong.”

“Rod.”

Harry stopped them there with a hand held up, “Please don’t continue.”

They mimed zipping their lips and Harry sighed. “You two are a handful.”

“Two actually. Each” George said, grinning vulgarly at Fred who winked and made a kissing gesture at his brother.

Harry ignored him, “How about this? I have someone who told me he’d let me know if any business I might be interested in came up, and when he sends me an owl, I’ll let him know about you two?”

“Wow, you really do have contacts!”

“Honestly, I just made them today.”

“That’d be perfect, mate.”

“Good, because you don’t have the money right now to be dealing with their kind of business. It’s better you just don’t think about going into Knockturn for that kind of thing right now.”

“Well, how much did you spend today, then?” Fred asked, leaning in to look at Harry.

Harry sighed, at least he could trust the Twins wouldn’t turn him in. “450.”

George looked faint and Fred only blinked at him.

“How much did you buy?!”

“Three things. One was 400. The other two were 50 together.”

Fred leaned against the wall, and George leaned against him, “Merlin, we’re going to need to make more money.”

Harry nodded, “Just be safe, okay? And don’t go to Knockturn.”

“Fine, mum.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

The two of them waved him on, “Go on and go do what you were planning on doing.”

“As long as it’s not moping, got it?”

“Oh, and thanks for the Galleons! We’ll make something nice for you!”

They slipped back through the alley and vanished, and Harry was sure they were going to Knockturn regardless of his warnings.

Harry decided that he probably shouldn’t head back to the Leaky Cauldron yet, if he started talking about it with Padfoot, he wouldn’t want to leave.

And as much as he wanted to see Padfoot, he had things he needed to do.

He decided he was calmed down enough to head into Flourish And Blotts and find Hermione and Petunia.

At least the Twins had pulled him aside rather close to the store still, so when he walked out of the tiny alley he was able to head back into the store within moments.

He nodded at the greeting this time, trying his hardest to be polite. 

He watched, fascinated, as he looked at the cage containing about a hundred of The Monster Book of Monsters that had been on his list. The one Fudge had purchased for him had been bound in thick leather straps with a note saying “Do Not Open- Danger!” Harry had decided then that he wasn’t going to chance that one at home. And now seeing them fighting each other and tearing each other apart, he was glad he had made that decision. 

Plus Padfoot didn’t like the way it smelled, which meant Harry didn’t particularly like it either.

He was walking through the front of the shop and stopped when he saw a display with a few books on it, with one in particular catching his eye.

He stopped and reached down to pick it up and looked at the large black dog the size of a bear with gleaming eyes on the cover. The title said: Death Omens: What To Do When You Know The Worst Is Coming.

He began to flip through it, noting it was a Divination book. It looked like Padfoot on the cover, and Harry felt the sudden urge to purchase it even if he didn’t care about the contents. It had to be a sign, and he might not be in Divination yet, but he had a feeling this cover meant something.

“Oh, Harry! I wouldn’t bother with that book!” He looked up and saw Hermione on the level above him with Petunia standing next to her, holding a few books in her arms.

“Hermione. Hey. Why not?”

“Divination is unreliable at best, phoney at worst. Besides, the manager told me that it’s best not to read those kinds of books, otherwise you start seeing death omens everywhere.”

Harry nodded, but he felt like he needed the book. It didn’t matter what Hermione would say, he already made the decision to purchase it.

“Though I do have to say, the dog on the cover looks an awful lot like Snuffles, doesn’t it?” Harry nodded and held the book tightly against his chest.

“We’ll be right down, Harry! I was just suggesting another novel for your aunt.”

“Take your time, I’m going to look for some books of my own.”

Hermione hmmed and went back to discussing the novels with Petunia who nodded at the appropriate time.

At least they seemed to be getting along.

Harry tucked the book under his arm and went up to the manager who was standing near a stack of books and handing them to a few other Hogwarts students.

“Hogwarts?” He asked when he saw Harry.

“Yes.”

“What books? Please tell me you don’t need the Monster Book.”

“Uh, I already have my books, thank you. I was wondering if you could point me to your Transfiguration section?”

“Oh, thank Merlin! OWLs? NEWTs?”

“Uh, I’m just looking for some books on human and animal transfiguration.”

“Ahh advanced Transfiguration, okay, head down that stack, make a left turn at the household charms, go till you see the conjuration books, and then take a left and go down the stairs. The advanced transfiguration books are down in that section of the basement.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.” He had already turned to another person and was asking them what they were looking for.

Harry followed the man’s instructions, and quickly found his way down to the basement level, dark and dimly lit with very few people between the stacks and he located where the advanced transfiguration books were. 

The titles were complicated and old sounding, and many of them were leather bound and had no cover illustrations.

He began to look through them and was looking for anything on human to animal transfiguration. He figured it was better to look into this on his own, than try and ask McGonagall about it. She’d ask questions and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to lie to her effectively enough to protect Padfoot, better to avoid the situation altogether.

He pulled out two books on the history of transfiguration- that would be an interesting read, another book on animal transfiguration, then one on human transfiguration. He tucked them under his arm, and then saw another book that caught his eye. A book about Animagi. It was tucked in a bottom corner of the shelf, and if Harry hadn’t dropped one of his books he would have missed it. He felt curious about it, and decided to add it to the stack and figured that was good for now. He could always check the library at Hogwarts if he needed more.

As he went back up, and made his way back towards the front desk, he stopped when he passed the Conjuration books when a particular title popped out at him. Fourth Edition Practical Conjuration: Furniture and Household Supplies. He grabbed that, since it might help him furnish his and Padfoot’s house together, and the thought made him blush. He wondered if Padfoot would like that.

Before he could make it to the front he saw another book that caught his eye. Was this how Hermione felt all the time? If so, then he was starting to understand the allure of the bookstore and the library! Charms for the busy Sorcerer: Household and personal charms to save time and effort! Perfect! 

Then another book caught his eye Go For The Gold: Economics And the Enterprising Warlock. He grabbed that one as well.

He made his way to the front, balancing the books in front of him, trying to carefully avoid bumping into anyone when he made his way to the counter. He only had a few people in front of him, and carefully stepped forward whenever the next person finished their purchase.

Finally he was at the register and placed his books down on the counter, with the clerk looking around the stack at him with a suspicious look.

Harry shrugged and grinned at the witch who looked him up and down and then gave him his price. Harry handed her the exact coins needed and took all the books in his arms once more, making his way towards entrance. He could ask Hermione for help carrying them once she was done as well.

Unless she had her own stack of books!

Well, he had to hope she didn’t today.

He was disappointed when after about twenty more minutes of waiting, Petunia came walking out with a handful of books in her arms, and Hermione had a stack that obscured her head.

Harry laughed at the sight, even if he had hoped she’d help with his, and Hermione joined him in laughing when she saw his own as Petunia had to guide them back to the Leaky Cauldron, making sure they didn’t bump into anything.

They dropped Hermione’s books off first, which she claimed were for all her classes; Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies. He did not understand how she was taking so many classes! How did she even have time for all of them in her schedule?

Then he slipped into his room, not knocking so Padfoot knew it wasn’t safe yet, as Hermione and Petunia stood outside the door as he piled his books onto the bed, “Be back soon, Padfoot. Love you.” He heard a very small whine and Harry reached over to where he had heard it and felt around until he felt Padfoot under the invisibility cloak, gently rubbing him.

He then quickly left and rejoined Hermione, while Petunia said she needed to rest for a while, and laid down in her room.

Ron and the other Weasleys hadn’t returned yet, and Harry was glad for that as they sat down at one of the tables at the Leaky Cauldron.

“I wonder where Ron is.” Hermione said, looking around nervously. “Where did you say you parted ways?”

“I didn’t.” He knew he was probably acting rudely, but he really didn’t want to think about Ron right now.

“Oh. Did something happen between you two?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hermione sighed, reaching up to brush her bushy hair back, though it accomplished nothing and she reached down to smooth out her skirt. “What did you two fight about?”

Harry groaned, turning to face her, “I don’t even know. I was listening to him go on about Egypt, and then I started asking him about flying carpets and he got all passive aggressive and rude.”

“Why were you asking him about flying carpets?” She asked, brows furrowed. 

Harry was starting to get a bit annoyed at the question. He loved flying, why wouldn’t he be interested in another form of flying, and besides why he was asking about them wasn’t the point, it was that Ron was an utter prat about it after.

“I had heard about how they banned them for being ‘muggle artefacts’ but I didn’t understand why brooms were still allowed then. And since Ron’s dad was the guy who banned them, I figured I’d ask him. Ron started getting angry and then freaked out at me. Started saying how hard it was to be my friend, and how he could have had a better time if he never had been my friend. Then I told him that no one was forcing him to be my friend, then he called me a freak, so I stopped talking to him.”

“Oh dear.”

“You can still be friends with him. I won’t care. I’m just not going to talk to him.”

“Harry, you know you two should talk about this. You’ve never had a fight like this before.”

“Well, considering he thinks being my friend is such a travesty.” Harry decided to pull out the fancier words, “I’m simply helping him make his life better by cutting him out of my life. Besides, who needs Ron when I got the Twins?”

Hermione sighed heavily, but Harry wasn’t backing down.

“Either he apologizes to me, or nothing. Anyway, why settle for the lesser Weasley when I can get two top shelf ones?”

“Harry!” Hermione looked shocked by the comment.

Harry turned away and sipped on the butterbeer the server had just brought. He knew that was uncalled for, but Ron deserved it.

“Well, we’re glad to hear that we’re considered ‘top shelf’ Harrikins!” Fred said, walking into the room, carrying an unmarked bag.

“I’ll have to let Angelina know that next time she calls me ‘trash’.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the red heads. Of course they had to walk in right when Harry said that.

“You should have heard them going at it, Granger!”

“I haven’t heard a breakup that wild since those two witches from Spain screaming at each other in spanish that time!”

“Oh, at the Quidditch game? That was a great pre-game show!”

“What are you two talking about?” She asked them, leveling her annoyed stare at them, which had absolutely no effect on them, as usual.

“Well, before the game these two spanish witches started shouting at each other! 

“In spanish!”

“Apparently they were together, but they both cheated on each other with the same guy, who then cheated on them with his brother!”

“At least that’s what the rest of the box was able to pick up. We only had one other Spanish speaker with us. They started fighting each other in the middle of the box; hair pulling, slapping, crotch kicking, flinging curses.”

“This guy tried to get between them to stop the fight– ended up leaving the game on a stretcher and his arms had been turned into tentacles.”

“The witches were banned. Turns out the guy and his brother were in the next box over, making out.”

Hermione stared at the Twins, somewhere between horrified and absolutely curious, “What does that have to do with anything? Harry was firmly curious. It sounded like one of those soap operas he had caught one day when the Dursleys had been out. He had been so confused by the amount of plot twists and insanity packed into a single episode.

“Nothing, just wanted to tell the story.” George shrugged, reaching up to brush his red hair from his face.

“George loves telling it.” Fred said, reaching out to brush away a strand that had escaped George’s hand.

“But seriously, Granger. Ronnikins was completely out of line.”

“All because he thought you and Harry were dating.”

“What? But we’re not-” Hermione was blushing deeply at the comment.

“Oh, we know.”

“We know .” They said, nodding and smirking at Harry who only glowered at them now, nursing his butterbeer like he’d watch adults nurse their alcohols.

“Ron will get over himself. He gets into his moods, acts like a prat, insults the people around him and then comes crawling back when he realizes he was at fault.”

“Then he does the bare minimum apology and gets upset if you don’t accept it.”

“It’s a cycle with him.”

“There must be something more than just him thinking we were…” She swallowed, “Dating.”

They both shrugged and began heading up to their room, which Harry was sure was them attempting to hide whatever possibly illegal, or at least questionably legal, item they had bought with Harry’s 20 Galleons.

“Harry.”

“Hermione, I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m just not going to talk to Ron. He doesn’t want to be my friend, fine then I won’t treat him as my friend. If you want to talk to him, that’s fine. But until he apologizes, I’m not speaking to him.”

“Harry…”

“Hermione, he insulted me and shouted at me, and called me a freak in the middle of Diagon Alley. I had to walk away while dozens of witches and wizards stared at me and whispered things about me. This wasn’t just a fight. This was him making his real feelings on the matter quite clear. And even if he apologizes, I don’t know if I’m going to forgive him.”

“But you two are best friends!”

“Apparently being my friend is hard, and he would have had a much better two years if he never met me. So apparently being best friends means nothing to him.”

“I’m sure he’s just upset about something else, Harry.”

“And that gives him the right to take it out on me ? Maybe you’ve forgotten Hermione, but I remember when he insulted you nonstop for two months in first year to the point where you cried all afternoon in the lavatory and almost died.”

“We became friends after that though. And you two have been friends since the first day on the Express.”

“Yeah, apparently he regrets that now. I don’t care Hermione, let him hang out with Dean, Seamus, or even Neville. I got better things to do than worry about someone who thinks being my friend is the hardest thing in the world.” He took another sip of his butterbeer harshly.

Hermione knew she wasn’t going to fix this mess by talking about it, so she just took a sip of her butterbeer and didn’t continue that line of thought.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Harry asked, lifting up his butterbeer glass, trying to steer the conversation away from Ron.

She nodded tersely, not looking at him as she looked around the Leaky Cauldron, “Yes, it is.” Harry knew she was clearly upset by it all.

“Hermione, you said you wanted a cat, right?”

She looked up suddenly, nodding nervously, “Yeah, but I might still want an owl. Why?”

“I’ll buy a cat for you. My treat for your birthday!” He said, grinning widely as the idea popped into his head.

He knew she had wanted a cat, and he liked buying people things. It was making him feel wanted.

Plus, it made him feel very mischievous; if Ron said all that because he thought they were dating, then Harry was going to piss him off even more, and if she got a cat, maybe it would eat that nasty old rat Scabbers. 

The thought made Harry gleeful inside, though he kept an assured smile on his face.

Hermione knew he had ulterior motives, but he could see her wanting a cat winning out in her mind. “Fine. I really want a cat.” She threw back her butterbeer and downed it all in one sip, wiping off the foam from her face and laughing, “Okay! Let’s go!”

Harry grinned and did the same, standing up. “Let’s go get you a new cat!”

He let Hermione lead the way, and grinned as he thought about Ron’s reaction to Harry buying Hermione a cat.

It wasn’t long before they were standing in front of the Magical Menagerie, and Hermione looked absolutely nervous all of a sudden. “”Harry, what if none of the cats like me?”

Harry reached over and gave Hermione a side hug, “I’m sure they’ll be at least one who will love listening to you recite passages from Hogwarts: a History for the hundredth time.”

Hermione chuckled dryly, but was smiling, “Well, thanks Harry. I think.”

“You’re welcome!” He turned and beamed at her, and she shook her head but was smiling more easily now, her nervousness gone.

They walked inside, and Hermione quickly went over and looked at the cats, with Harry following her. He grabbed a few owl treats from a shelf for Hedwig, and then joined her there. “Any catching your eye?”

“There’s so many. But this is a serious decision. I want one that I can love for years…”

The witch working the store came over to them, “You looking for a cat?”

Hermione turned to her and nodded, “Yes, I was originally thinking about getting an owl, for convenience sake, but a cat just feels right .”

The witch looked Hermione up and down, “Yes, I can see what you mean. You’re definitely a cat person. Let's see… Do you care about the breed?”

Hermione shook her head, “I just want one I can love.”

“Do you mind it being a little temperamental?”

“Aren’t all cats temperamental?”

The witch laughed, “That is true. I don’t want to get your hopes up. But I think I have one that feels like he’d be perfect for you.” The witch looked around and walked off, looking for a specific cage.

Hermione stood next to Harry, nervous, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves as she waited.

Soon the witch came back holding what was either a very big cat, or a small tiger, Harry wasn’t sure yet. It was orange and huge , and Harry knew that as soon as Hermione saw it, she needed it in her life.

He could feel the instant affection she felt for the cat.

“This here is Crookshanks. He’s been here for ages, no one ever wants him. He’s very picky about his potential owners. Let’s see if he takes to you.” The witch brought the large cat over to Hermione, and held him close. Its face was grumpy looking and slightly squashed looking, but when it opened a single eye to regard Hermione it simply moved itself and then lept out of the witch’s arms into Hermione’s and the girl was over the moon.

“He’s gorgeous!” She looked at the cat like this was the only one in the room, and the cat, Crookshanks, started purring loudly.

“Wow, I’ve never seen him get so attached. He must really like you.”

“Harry, isn’t he beautiful?” Hermione asked, holding the cat like he was made of glass, staring at him without taking her eyes off of him.

Harry nodded, carefully watching the cat who was regarding him with an oddly intelligent look before settling back to sleep in Hermione’s arms. It was really nice to see Hermione so happy.

“I’ll take him!” Hermione said carefully, shifting her arms so that Crookshanks could continue to sleep while she walked up to the counter and Harry pulled out some Galleons. He had spent so much today, probably more than he had in his entire life combined, but he felt happy about it. It had just been sitting in his vault collecting dust, and Harry realistically was probably going to die before he got to use it all, so he might as well get things he liked as well as spoil his friends . That way the money went to good use when he did finally get killed.

The witch also threw in food for him, a brush, and a collar, and Harry dutifully paid for them all.

“Happy early birthday, Hermione!” Harry said cheerfully, smiling at her widely as she cradled her new cat who was quite satisfied with the arrangement.

As they were about to walk out, Harry caught sight of the dog stuff, and told Hermione to give him a moment. 

He jogged over to it and was looking for something he could get Padfoot. 

He knew he wasn’t a real dog, but Padfoot did like playing, and he seemed to enjoy being a dog, so Harry wanted to get him something as well. 

Harry felt like Sirius Black deserved to get spoiled just as much as his friends did, if not more. Someone who cried in his sleep like Sirius Black did when Harry wasn’t there deserved love and to be showered in gifts and affection.

He didn’t grab dog food, because he wasn’t going to make Padfoot eat something so dirty . He’d sneak him food from dinner for him, or find his way to the kitchen and nick some food if he had to. So that was out of the picture. 

He grabbed a few toys that looked like things Padfoot might enjoy.

Then his eyes settled on the collars.

Padfoot didn’t like collars that much, but Harry liked how they looked a lot on him. They made his neck stand out, and made Padfoot look more regal in a way that Harry didn’t quite get, but liked.

He reached out and trailed his fingers across a dark black leather one. The leather was supple, and high quality, and had silver studs on it that would look beautiful contrasting Padfoot’s fur.

Harry suddenly wondered what it would look like on him as well. After all, he couldn’t put something around Padfoot’s neck that he wouldn’t be willing to suffer through either. 

That wasn’t fair.

The leather would probably be firm, but warm on his skin, settling just enough pressure to keep Harry aware of it, but not enough to make it hard to breathe, unless he wanted it tighter in which case it would be firm and restrictive,  and he was sure the weight of it would be something interesting as well.

It would probably stand out next to his pale yet tan skin, and make his eyes stand out more. It would be broad and take up most of the skin on his neck, but he couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of desire that the idea caused to bubble up within him, filling him up until he felt like he was drowning in it. Some of the dogs near him began barking loudly, and Harry couldn’t help but imagine how Padfoot would look at him, wearing Padfoot’s collar.

There was a leash next to it as well, the same shade of quality leather and Harry figured Padfoot deserved the best. Judging by the price tag, it was the best of the bunch, and Padfoot deserved nothing less.

The image of Padfoot holding the leash in his mouth while it was attached to Harry’s collar came unbidden to Harry’s mind and he could barely breathe as he suddenly felt very giddy at the idea.

“Oh, thinking of getting something for Snuffles?” Hermione asked, walking up behind him, making him jump slightly as he was snapped back to the present, suddenly aware of an odd heat in his abdomen and more saliva in his mouth than usual.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He managed without his voice breaking, which he was proud of. “I want him to have the best. He deserves that.”

“You’re a really good pet owner, Harry. I’m sure that Snuffles loves you for that. Do you have enough to get it?”

Harry nodded, suddenly very very keen on getting this particular gift for Padfoot. His hands almost trembled when he reached out to take it off the display, liking the weight of it in his hands.

He swallowed to get rid of some of the excess saliva that was quickly building in his mouth, unable to really understand why something so simple as a collar was making him so nervous, but somehow in a good way.

He brought it up to the counter and placed all the toys he had wanted onto it.The witch gave him an odd look when she saw the collar and leash. “You have a dog?”

Harry nodded, somehow sure he couldn’t trust his voice to not betray the odd feeling he had right now.

“This collar is for a big dog.”

“I know. He’s big. But I have a feeling he’ll like this.” He managed, pulling out the coins he needed when the voice absently supplied the exact total before she could even tally it, and handing them to the witch before she even asked for them.

He needed this, even if he was unsure why it was burning in his thoughts like he was cursed with the idea.

She gave him another sideways glance, as if she knew Harry’s interest in the collar and leash weren’t purely as a pet owner, while Hermione seemed happily oblivious to the whole exchange while cooing at her new cat.

As soon as she took the coins, Harry snatched the collar and leash, worried she’d somehow take them back. Somehow she’d deny him his belongings even after he paid, as if she knew the ungodly thoughts he was having when he thought of them.

But he had paid for them.

They were his now.

He really liked that thought. 

She placed the rest of the toys into a bag, and handed it to Harry, still giving him a weird look, but Harry didn’t care. 

He had bought Padfoot a gift. 

Something just for him.

He felt like nothing else mattered in the face of that realization.

He even forgot about Ron and his cruel remarks from earlier.

“You’re really looking forward to giving those to Snuffles, huh, Harry?” Hermione asked when they walked out and began to return back to the Leaky Cauldron, collar and leash still in his hands as he stared at them, unable to take his eyes off of them.

Harry realized he had come and gone from the Leaky Cauldron so many times today it was more like a rest stop than a pub.

“He really deserves it. I know he didn’t have a good life before I found him. I don’t know if he was abandoned, or what, but I’m going to take care of him from now on. I promised him that. I love him.” Hermione would have no idea that he meant it in an entirely different way than she assumed.

Hermione nodded without thinking too deeply into it, cuddling with Crookshanks, and Harry was suddenly very grateful the cat was distracting her so effectively. Crookshanks was quickly becoming a very worthwhile purchase. “I believe it. You clearly love Snuffles a great deal, Harry. I think that’s wonderful! I’m just sad that you’ll have to wait until you go home. Do you think you’ll go home for the holidays then? For Snuffles?”

Harry nodded quickly. Better to let Hermione come up with her own idea for how he felt, and work with that, instead of trying to misdirect. He wasn’t as skilled with tricking her as he was with simply letting her come to her own conclusions and just not correcting them.

Soon enough they came back to the pub, and Harry was still clutching the collar and leash tightly in his hands.

He noticed Ron sitting in one of the chairs and steadfastly ignored him, and decided that he wasn’t going to let Ron ruin his day. 

He had gotten so much done, and he was proud of that.

He nodded to Mrs Weasley and made up some excuse about wanting to rest before dinner when she asked him to stay and eat, and said how if anyone needed him, they could come up to his room, just knock first. 

He ignored the leers from Fred and George at that.

He didn’t wait, as he knew if he gave her time to worry, Molly would find some way of trying to guilt him into staying down here. And if she had any knowledge of his and Ron’s fight, well, he was sure it wasn’t him she’d be siding with. 

He wasn’t a Weasley after all.

It seemed that word of their fight had spread though, because neither Arthur, Ginny, or Percy had said anything to him when he came into the Leaky Cauldron, but Harry didn’t care. He barely talked to Percy, and Ginny kinda freaked him out a bit with the obsession towards him, and considering how easily she let herself get possessed by Tom’s Diary, and Arthur…well. Arthur was a nice man for the most part, but the more he thought about it, the more Harry was starting to understand why no one in the Ministry really liked him, and why he had such a deadend job.

Or maybe Harry was more bitter about flying carpets than he realized he would have been.

Damn it, he really wanted to fly on one now.

He would take Padfoot and they would fly high above the countryside, and maybe even look at the stars together. 

He was sure that Padfoot would love that. Padfoot seemed like a star gazer.

He could take a blanket so they could cuddle together and wouldn’t get cold, and they could just sit there on it.

That sounded absolutely divine.

He loved his broom, more than most of his belongings, but he couldn’t bring Padfoot with him on a broom. He couldn’t enjoy flying with him, nor could they cuddle together under the stars on a broom.

Harry found that he was very very much looking forward to that. He’d have to ask Ludger about where he could purchase a flying carpet. Sure, he’s have to find a way to get a disillusionment charm woven into it, but it couldn’t be harder than getting the Ford Anglia to get an invisibility booster, after all, as Arthur had been able to do that, and Harry had a feeling he could do the same even at his age. It was cloth, that seemed to work better with invisibility than anything like a Muggle car after all!

He was sure he could get it. And besides, he was Harry Potter, were they really going to get him in trouble for taking a nice sunset flight with his dog?

That seemed like it would be a massive overstep of authority on the Ministry’s behalf.

But then again, they had banned flying carpets for no real reason that Harry could determine, and if Ludger was right, which he was beginning to assume so, then the Ministry would very much try to get him in trouble.

Talk about abuse of power.

He’d look into buying one still. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them!

Flying carpets were going to become a thing again. He would make it work. Somehow.

He made sure to do his special knock as he went up to his room, and slipped inside his room and dropped even more stuff onto the bed where Padfoot was not laying, which was slowly becoming less and less of the bed.

He regretted taking up so much of Padfoot’s bed from him, and reached over to carefully slide as much as he could onto the floor. Most of it was in boxes or bags, so he wasn’t too worried. And he didn’t buy much that would be considered breakable.

Padfoot watched him with one eye open, and then yawned and stretched out across the newly cleared off bed.

“There you go, Padfoot. Is that better?”

Padfoot nodded cheerfully, tongue hanging out as he rolled onto his side and stretched more.

Harry liked watching him stretch, it made him feel good.

Very good.

He steadfastly avoided looking further down his stomach, after the first time, Harry made sure to not look down there. Or at least to not look down there too obviously.

He could pretend it wasn’t as bad a thing if he didn’t look directly, but it was hard because Padfoot was big, and so was what was hanging between his legs.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to deal with the weird thoughts that began to bubble up inside his head when he glanced down there, and until a time that he would feel able to really process them, which he wasn’t sure would ever happen, he’d rather just not deal with that train of thought.

Padfoot, for all his leisure, glanced up at Harry, head upside down and his grin looking as weird as possible, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at the goofy look it gave the dog, and Harry sat down on the bed next to him, petting along the underside of his jaw, “Sorry I was gone so much today, Padfoot.” He sighed, “I wish I hadn’t even spent time with Ron.”

Padfoot rolled over slightly, and tilted his head, which Harry knew was Padfoot-speak for ‘What happened?’

“Me and Ron got into a fight. I don’t know what his problem is. I was just asking him about flying carpets. I mean his father was the one who banned them, and yet Ron knows nothing about them.”

Padfoot shimmied up the bed and laid his head on Harry’s thigh and continued to watch him, encouraging him to tell him more.

Harry sighed, reaching down and petting Padfoot while he began talking, “I just don’t get it. It wasn’t like I was asking him NEWT questions or anything. I was just curious why flying carpets were banned and not brooms since they’re both technically ‘muggle artefacts’ and then next thing I know he’s shouting at me and saying that he wishes he wasn’t my friend and then calling me a freak in the middle of Diagon Alley.” He sighed, “Everyone was looking at me like somehow I had done something bad.”

Padfoot growled slightly, baring his teeth and Harry just scratched his throat, enjoying the way the growl vibrated through the skin of his hand and made his blood thrum. “Am I a freak though? I mean…I can speak Parseltongue, I have this voice in my head who sometimes tells me things or just does prices for me at the store, and apparently I can’t keep friends. And then there's some of the things I think about…Things I want… There’s got to be something wrong with me .”

Padfoot moved so more of him was resting in Harry’s lap, and he leaned up and licked him once and pressed his nose against Harry’s.

“Thanks, Padfoot. I…it just really hurt for Ron of all people to call me that, you know? If it were Draco Malfoy, I wouldn’t be surprised and it wouldn’t bother me at all, but it was Ron . He knows how much that hurts for me. Or at least I thought he did.”

Harry moved so that he began to try and lay down on the bed, and Padfoot adjusted so Harry could do it comfortably. After a few moments, Harry was laying down with Padfoot’s face right next to his, and Harry reached over and hugged his dog-wizard close, face pressed into his fur.

“Maybe I’m just supposed to be alone.” He whispered, and tried to blink away any tears. He didn’t want to cry. He was stronger than tears.

He faced death at the hands of the basilisk’s venom stoically for Ginny. He had truly believed he was going to die, he had felt the bony hands of death pulling him into the dark, but he didn’t cry then.

Why was the feeling of Ron betraying him like that hurting so much worse than literal impending death?

Padfoot nuzzled against Harry and placed a paw on his side, and Harry snuggled in closer.

He could feel the cloak next to them, and for once, Harry just wanted to pull the cloak over the two of them and cry where no one could see him, like he had been able to in his cupboard. 

So he did.

As soon as the magical fabric was settled over them, Harry felt like he was cut off from the rest of the world, and that distance allowed him to feel openly with Padfoot.

He didn’t want to be the Boy-Who-Lived. 

He didn’t want to face Voldemort every year. 

He didn’t want to tell himself that he was probably going to die before he turned 17. That he’d probably never get to graduate Hogwarts, so why worry about grades, or his future, or his money, or anything?

Why couldn’t Ron see that?

Harry was going through each year genuinely believing this really could be his last. Every day of his life came with the genuine chance that he wouldn’t just die; he’d be hunted down, tortured, and brutally murdered.

Did Ron think it was just going to be adventures every year where they fought bad guys and saved the day in the nick of time, but nothing bad ever happened to them? Where it was puzzles and riddles and giant fucking chessboards every year?

Ron got off easy the first year. All he really had to do was play a game of chess, the one thing he actually happened to be good at. And in second year he didn’t even have to face the basilisk or Tom Riddle.

He didn’t have to face the Basilisk alone , running through ancient pipes just to not be slaughtered by it. 

He didn’t have to race against time to save a little girl’s life. 

He didn’t have to sit there in front of someone, knowing he was going to die when he was only 12, and pretend that everything was okay, and only get out of it by pure luck alone.

Harry killed a man when he was 11, for god's sake. No one talked about it. Everyone just pretended it didn’t happen. Quirrell had just magically died and Harry was a hero.

He knew his touch burned Quirrell, and Harry went for his face.

It didn’t matter that Quirrell had tried to kill him, because Harry had wanted him dead as well.

He could still hear the sizzle of Quirrell’s flesh, feel it cracking and peeling under his touch. He could feel his touch killing Quirrell and he pushed harder.

He could hear the man who had been his teacher scream and beg for mercy, and Harry did not give it to him.

He felt satisfied that Quirrell had screamed and begged and that Harry still protected himself, that Harry came out of the fight and Quirrell did not.

But that didn’t stop the nightmares of Quirrell’s screams and pleas, of watching himself gleefully murder his teacher, of feeling his own flesh burning and cracking under his doppelganger’s fingers as he was told to beg for his life.

And then he sometimes woke up from nightmares of deadly yellow eyes, desperate to not make even a single noise because the basilisk would find him if he made a single sound. As stiff as the people it had petrified in fear that he’d turn around and those yellow eyes would be right behind him and it would be all over.

He was always worried that he’d somehow turn a corner and find himself in front of a victim of the basilisk who hadn’t had something to protect them from its gaze.

He was terrified  after Lockhart that someone would catch him off guard and just take all his memories from him. Or someone would just take moments of his life away, and Harry would be none the wiser. 

He'd never be okay with Obliviate ever existing as freely as it did, because he'd secretly always live in terror that one day he'd lose who he was and not even know it.

Sometimes he would wake up from nightmares of the acromantulas eating him alive, paralyzed but able to feel it all, listening to Aragog praise them and promise to let Hagrid know how delicious his gifts were.

He dream that he’d walk into the Great Hall, and every single person would stop talking and stare at him, judging him, whispering about him, calling him a freak, a monster. Wishing he would just go away or die .

And now he had nightmares of Sirius being taken from him, of Aurors dragging him from Harry’s arms while Harry tried to fight them and failed, watching the only person who meant anything to him get dragged away after Harry promised he would protect him. That it was all Harry’s fault.

He had survived thus far in his life on pure luck alone, and he was just waiting for the day that luck ran out.

Was just waiting for when Fate punched his card and his time was up. And Harry knew it was going to be soon.

And part of him wanted it to just be over.

Harry wasn’t just a freak. He knew he was a monster.

He was a killer.

And on top of all of that , Harry was a homosexual.

In the grand scheme of things that should have been the least of his concerns, but Harry didn’t know what to do with that last one.

His life was a constant danger, constantly fret with fear and pain and misery and possibly dying. How could he manage being gay on top of that?

He didn’t know how he could even go about trying to find a boy to try things with, let alone someone who’d actually understand what he was going through and support him.

He’d always been different.

Harry had always been more desperate to get closer to older males in his life, and he assumed it was to make up for not having a father, but knowing what he knew about himself now?

Well, he was beginning to think that Harry was attracted to the idea of a father; a man who was older than him, bigger and stronger and more powerful and manly that would defend him, and hold him, and tell him things were going to be okay. Protect him from his fate and make him feel safe.

Tell him that he wasn’t a freak, and that he was loved.

Someone who would teach Harry about the world, and about himself.

About his body.

Someone who wouldn't stop him when he touched them.

Would listen to him when he asked them to touch him .

He wanted a father like that .

Someone like his Padfoot.

He barely even noticed he had been speaking out loud, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry couldn’t help himself.

Padfoot always listened to him talk about his feelings. Always made him feel better after.

And Harry needed that.

He needed to not feel all alone right now, not like he had always felt before Padfoot.

And Padfoot understood pain, and understood loneliness. 

Harry could always see it in his eyes, could see it in the way he pressed himself smaller and slunk around when he was scared, could see it in the way that he would whimper and cry in his sleep if Harry wasn’t there with him, touching him and keeping him anchored.

That’s why Harry had to keep Padfoot safe, and never leave him.

Because Sirius Black was like him; scared and alone, with no family and no one to love him or need him.

And Harry needed Padfoot nearly as much as he was sure Padfoot needed him . Needed him more than Padfoot needed him, if he was telling the truth. He couldn’t even imagine not having him in his life anymore; life with Padfoot was like life without knowing about magic, an empty shallow existence without even knowing why you're so miserable and hollow.

This was why he never liked to dwell on his emotions.

He knew once he did thoughts he didn’t want to think would come rising up to the surface.

Padfoot was gently licking his face, trying to make the tears go away, and Harry tried to cry as quietly as he could.

The comforting warmth of Padfoot’s body and licks slowly made Harry relax, and soon his tears weren’t flowing as much, and then they were gone, leaving only his face covered in a faint film of dog slobber, but Harry found he didn’t mind it. It was comforting. In fact the licking and heavy weight and heart of Padfoot's body made Harry feel good . Like something was filling inside of him, growing into something he hadn't known had always been there, unseen and unknown but waiting to be revealed.

“You know…I bought you a collar today.” Harry said after a few minutes of silence, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just broken down and sobbed into his dog’s fur.

Padfoot gave him an odd look that Harry was sure was him asking why.

Harry shrugged, “I just really liked the way it looked.” He paused, suddenly a bit self-conscious, though it didn’t stop him telling his real best friend the other…more confusing thought the collar had made him think. “I wondered what it would look like on me…” Padfoot stiffened and looked at Harry, so singularly focused on Harry that felt like the only one who existed to Padfoot right now and it made him feel special .

He couldn’t tell if Padfoot was upset by that thought, possibly scared, or for some reason excited, but Harry continued anyway.

“I imagined what it would feel like. What I would look like. Wearing it.” He admitted, and found he couldn’t keep looking in Padfoot’s eyes, and so he placed his head into the fur of his shoulder as he continued. “It’s really nice leather, you know? Expensive. I don’t think it would cut into the skin, it’s too nice for that. It would be heavy, but not too tight. Not choking me…Though it'd be close. Tight. So it doesn't move or fall off. It would take up most of my neck and I’d like that. It being so big because it was meant for you , but I’m wearing it instead.” He whispered as he moved a bit closer, liking the way Padfoot smelled as he spoke it out loud.

“I got a leash too. I mean, you can’t have a collar without a leash, right? That makes sense, right? It’s leather as well. There’s right over there…” He gestured with his head vaguely towards where he had placed them on the nightstand reverentially, “Most expensive one they had. I couldn’t get you anything less than the best, Sirius.” He whispered into his fur, “You deserve nothing less than perfect.”

Padfoot made a small noise like a whine, and Harry nodded into his fur, feeling like his mind was being clouded as he breathed in Padfoot’s scent which suddenly had grown stronger and more easily identifiable, and his mind pulled from his body slowly until he wasn’t feeling like he was trapped in his own flesh, instead feeling like he was giddy, “I love you, Padfoot. I really do, Sirius. I’ll do anything for you to stay with me okay? I don’t care that you were a criminal. I'm one too after today. You must have been framed though. My Padfoot wouldn’t do anything bad. My Sirius is good .”

Harry felt himself like he was floating, his mind about a foot to the left above him, if he had to place it somewhere.

Padfoot snuggled closer, whimpering and Harry led him tightly, “You’re mine, Sirius…I don't know how I lived without you. Even if we have to go on the run, I'm going to stay with you. We’ll be safe together.”

Harry snuggled closer still until Padfoot was the only thing Harry could feel, see, hear, and smell.

With Padfoot he was safe.

With Sirius he didn't need anyone else, as long as he had him .

Harry sighed softly whenever he moved, the feeling of Padfoot's fur sliding along his skin made him feel alive.

Padfoot was alive. 

Padfoot was real.

Padfoot was here.

Sirius was here. 

Harry could trust him, Harry knew that. 

Padfoot was, in the end, the only one he could trust. 

He'd never hurt Harry. Never call him a freak, or stop being his friend.

Wouldn't make him feel worthless and broken. Faulty and wrong . 

Padfoot always made him feel right . Even when Harry knew it was wrong what he was feeling.

Harry just wanted to sleep now right there with Padfoot draped over him, surrounding him, framing him, covering him. 

He hated crying, it always took all his energy with him. Especially trying to pretend that everything was okay.

He couldn’t fall asleep though. He would have to come down to dinner, and at least pretend everything was okay.

He could do that.

He was used to it, even if it drained him.

He hugged Padfoot tighter and Padfoot nuzzled into his neck, the one front leg over his side tightening slightly.

He took a deep breath, letting Padfoot’s scent flow through him and calm him down.

“Thanks for listening to me, Padfoot… I really needed that.”

Padfoot let out a small bark, quiet and near Harry’s ear, and the dog’s breath tickled Harry’s ear, and he sharply exhaled.

“Okay, I should get up.” He said, forcing himself to not fall back into his mood. He’d done enough moping, Ron wasn’t going to be in control of his emotions any longer. 

So what if Ron thought Harry was a freak?

It wasn’t like Ron had much going for him either.

And yeah, he did like the Twins better than him. Harry hoped Ron liked that . Maybe the Twins would let him hang out with them.

He pet Padfoot’s head affectionately, and even leaned down and pressed a soft kiss between Padfoot’s ears. “Okay, I’ll bring you some food after, okay?”

Padfoot nodded, and was staring at Harry for a few moments, and Harry could see him smelling the air. Soon he nodded, leaning up to lick Harry’s lips softly and then he laid back down, settling into where Harry had just moved from, his face pressed into the blankets.

Harry knew as long as Padfoot was okay, that Harry would be too. He had a reason to live now, after all.

Making his way through the halls towards the parlour where the Weasleys and Hermione were eating, Harry sat down on the far end, not completely alone, but clearly not a part of the group.

He knew the Weasleys weren’t going to be okay with Harry and Ron fighting, and Harry didn’t want to hear it so it was better to just stay off by himself.

He had ordered some food and quietly went about eating it when it had arrived, steadfastly ignoring all the stares at him by certain members of the Weasley family.

“So, aren’t you gonna ask us what we bought?” A voice said and Harry immediately knew it was one of the twins.

“Yeah, we got something really cool!”

They had shimmied their chairs so that they were now sitting next to Harry, and Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled a bit down at his food.

At least they weren’t going to let this be awkward.

“So what did you two get with my 20 Galleons then?”

“Can’t tell you!”

“It’s a surprise!”

Harry rolled his eyes again, “Then why’d you ask me to ask?”

“So you’d start talking!” Fred said, grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah, you’re staring into your food, we were worried that it was going to start crawling away.” George had placed his head directly on the table, sideways, to look at Harry so that even when Harry was looking at his food he couldn’t not see him.

“If it’s bad, you can tell us. We’ll let Tom know how much you hate his cooking.”

“It’s not the food. It’s good!” Harry said quickly. He didn’t need the innkeeper Tom to hate him as well, that would be just great.

They both leaned in carefully, looking around as if to see if anyone was watching– everyone was– and whispered just loud enough that only Harry could hear, “Is this about the dog in your room?”

Harry refused to let himself flinch at the comment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course. Of course.”

“No idea.”

“Well, don’t worry, we only know because we were spying on you.”

“Had to make sure you weren’t going to act all mopey by yourself in your room, see?”

“You really have to learn to talk quieter if you’re unable to put up spells for your privacy. Then again our prototype extendable ear gives us a lot of advantages even when you're talking really quietly. Don't worry though we couldn't actually hear much of what you were saying, barely more than a word here and there. So Padfoot’s your dog, right?”

“Did you smuggle him with you here? How’d you do it?”

“Your cloak?”

Harry shook his head, nervous because they were still at the same table as the others, even if they couldn’t hear them.

“Judging by the sound of his few barks, he sounded big. Maybe his trunk?” George said, and Harry knew the Twins weren’t just pranksters, they were smart pranksters . The most dangerous kind.

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about, now if you wouldn’t mind I have to finish my dinner.”

“Are you planning on bringing some up to him after?”

“Can we see him?”

“Yeah, Harry, please! Come on! We’re your buddies, right?”

“Pals?”

“Newfound brothers?”

“Criminals in arms?”

The Twins were relentless when they wanted something, but as long as they swore they wouldn’t tell, Harry…trusted that he could show them Padfoot and they wouldn't betray him.

But if they hindered Harry’s plans in any way, he wouldn’t hesitate to get them back for it. Still he wasn't sure if Padfoot would be okay with that.

And secretly he didn’t want to share Padfoot with anyone else.

“Fine. You gotta promise you won’t tell anyone about him.”

They both nodded, grinning conspiratorially. “But later. I’ll need to let him know, and if he doesn’t want to see you now, I’m not going to let you see him. He can be nervous of new people.”

“You make him sound like he’s a person.” Fred said, narrowing his eyes slightly at Harry who shrugged, trying to avoid his gaze.

They seemed to decide to drop the issue for now, and Harry was grateful for that.

No one else really talked to him during the remainder of dinner, even when Petunia came down. Everyone could feel the tension, and it seemed that no one knew how to break it, and Harry was actually incredibly glad that Petunia would be the one driving him to King’s Cross, because if he had to deal with sitting in a car with Ron and the rest of the Weasleys– excluding Fred and George– then he’d probably snap.

Ron was glaring daggers at Harry, who was tenaciously refusing to even acknowledge him. He wouldn’t turn away, as that would give Ron the satisfaction of affecting Harry, instead he just pretended that Ron meant absolutely nothing to him.

It was difficult, but every minute of doing it made it easier, after all, Harry had almost been a Slytherin, he could hold a grudge if he wanted to, and for Ron to treat him so horribly simply because he thought he and Hermione might be dating, if that was actually his reasoning, was just not okay.

Plus there was the added anxiety over his own idiocy accidently giving away Padfoot. He’d have to be extra careful when talking to him to make sure no one else was eavesdropping.

He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Padfoot, and especially not due to his own failings. He’d protect Sirius just as Sirius promised to protect him.

It wasn’t long before everyone decided to retire to bed early, and when Mr Weasley seemed to want to speak more to Harry, Harry just walked up to his room. He didn’t want to hear it, or deal with it. He had enough on his plate already.

He ordered another plate of food after everyone had left, sneaking back down when they had gone, and brought it up to his room.

As soon as he closed his door, he sighed heavily and Padfoot came bounding over, nearly knocking the plate of food from Harry’s hands as Harry smiled, his mood suddenly improved when he saw Padfoot, though still beating himself up about the Twins finding out about him.

He sat down on the floor next to him as he ate, and ran his fingers through his fur, trying to think of how he was going to mention that the twins had found out about him. He’d need to be much better at sneaking if he wanted to keep Padfoot his secret.

“Padfoot…” The dog’s ears perked forward and he glanced up at Harry who was speaking a lot quieter than normal, and Harry felt horrible that his own complaining had accidentally revealed Padfoot to others. “I’m sorry. Someone overheard me earlier when I was…whining about my life.”

Padfoot stiffened and continued to look at Harry, and Harry knew Padfoot wanted him to explain.

“It’s the Twins; Fred and George. They were spying on me to make sure I was okay, and I was stupid. I didn’t think about how easy it would be for someone to be listening in. They said they didn’t hear much, just me calling you ‘Padfoot’ and you barking a few times…I’m sorry.” He said, his hands tightening on his knees as he tried not to get upset at himself for being so stupid.

He flinched when he felt Padfoot lick him a few times, and then butted against Harry’s head and then laid his head down on Harry’s thigh. He knew Padfoot was trying to tell him it was okay, but still Harry felt guilty.

“They only know that you’re my dog though, but they heard me call you ‘Padfoot.’ They wanted to meet you, but I said I’d have to ask you first. You don’t have to. I can just tell them no. They won’t give me away, not when I can tell their father their plans.”

Padfoot whined slightly.

“Then they won't, Padfoot. I won't do anything that puts you in harm's way.” He leaned down and hugged Padfoot close. He lowered his voice even lower so only Sirius could hear him, “I love you, Sirius. I promise I won't leave you or let anyone take you from me. I promise.”

Sirius turned but Harry kept hugging him, fearful of Padfoot’s reaction because he was sure that Padfoot understood what he was really saying.

He felt the dog’s tongue licking his neck, as that was the only skin available, and Harry smiled into his warm fur.

“We'll be okay.” He whispered to himself, nodding slightly.

Harry felt relaxed like this, enough to want to sleep even though he was laying against the bed, on the floor, but he knew that he'd probably be more comfortable on the bed.

Padfoot seemed to think the same thing as he gently moved out of Harry's hug and jumped up on the bed, then grinned at Harry, tapping the space next to him with his paw, gesturing for Harry to join him.

It was sometimes so odd to see how dexterous and human-like Padfoot was in his canine form, but that only let him know that beneath that fur was Sirius Black.

He wondered what Sirius Black looked like as a human. He was incredibly handsome as a dog, and not in the normal way one views an animal… in the way one viewed a person,  something you thought about…sexually,  something that was quickly beginning to consume Harry's absent thoughts- the ones he tried to pretend were not happening in the background of his mind- but he had no doubt that Sirius Black was handsome as well. Or at the least Harry would find him handsome. He suddenly thought of the collar from earlier, and tried not to blush remembering his own reaction. Maybe both Padfoot and Sirius could lead him around with the collar and leash…The thought excited Harry even more now.

Harry climbed into the bed, flopping down next to Padfoot and grinning at him.

“When we get to Hogwarts I'm going to take you running. You'd like that. You went to Hogwarts, right?”

Padfoot nodded and Harry felt glad. That way the school wouldn't be a complete surprise for him.

“What House were you?”

Padfoot looked at him, then raised his paw and tapped Harry's heart. Harry was sure it meant, ‘Yours.’

“Gryffindor?” Harry asked, smiling at the gesture.

Padfoot nodded vigorously, grinning and began licking Harry's face again causing Harry to chuckle and giggle.

“I'm glad. I would hate you to be stuck in Gryffindor if you were a Slytherin or something.”

Padfoot rolled his eyes at the word ‘Slytherin’ and Harry grinned, “Yeah, I'm not the biggest fan of Slytherin either, even if the Hat wanted to put me there, they're still gits.”

Padfoot tilted his head at Harry.

“Yeah, it really wanted to put me in Slytherin, I had to fight for Gryffindor.”

Padfoot nodded, and Harry couldn't help but feel like Sirius might have actually understood. “Did it say something similar?”

Padfoot nodded again, though it was more annoyed this time.

“‘Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness!’” Harry said, mocking the Hat's words to him, and Padfoot let out a chuff of a laugh, and it made Harry feel happy. “Apparently I have a thirst for proving myself. I don't know. Maybe it's right, but my home is Gryffindor.”

Padfoot nodded, then reached out and tapped Harry's forehead, causing Harry to laugh, “Are you part Sorting Hat? It did say my mind wasn't bad. Wish my grades showed that.”

Padfoot grinned and shrugged as much as a dog body could. “Your grades weren't the greatest either?”

Padfoot chuffed and Harry felt comforted.

“Can we just lay here together, Sirius?” He asked suddenly, his voice quiet for fear that the nervousness he felt in his heart at the question wouldn't show in his voice.

Padfoot didn't say anything and instead just snuggled up to Harry, pressing his snout into the crook of Harry’s neck, breathing in deeply and letting out a warm exhale, over and over.

It was sweet and comforted Harry more than even talking to his friends used to. He had Sirius– he had Padfoot. That's all he needed in the end. If he had gone on the run in August, he knew he would have been okay with Padfoot at his side.

He loved Padfoot, and the thought filled him like magic and was his last thought before he fell into the land of dreams.

Chapter Text

He wasn't aware of when he fell asleep, but he woke to the sound of a knock at his door. It took him a few moments to fully wake but Padfoot's fur on his skin was better than any blanket and made him warm and comfortable and right now he didn't want to wake up. It seemed Padfoot was thinking the same thing as he moved a paw to cover his ear.

Another knock at the door broke Harry from his comfortable drowsiness.

It might be someone checking in on him and making sure that he was okay.

The thought of someone coming in and seeing Padfoot caused him to wake up pretty quickly, and so did Padfoot who had instantly slunk to the far side of the bed when Harry startled awake, ready to hide under it at a moment's notice.

“Excuse me, Mister Potter sir, a parcel has arrived for you. I was told you requested it as soon as possible?” A small voice that Harry was sure was a House-elf said.

“Coming.” He relaxed and went to the door, and opened it and in came floating a trunk with a House-elf sitting on top. He was about the same size as Dobby, but looked far more assured, smiling warmly at Harry as he floated in.

“Mornin, Mister Potter! Parcel here for you! Man came by crack of dawn leaving this for you!” The little House-elf hopped off the trunk and handed Harry a letter, “He also left this for you.”

Harry took the letter gingerly, “Thank you.” 

The elf puffed his chest, “A pleasure Mister Harry Potter, sir.” He then walked out, snapping his fingers and all the dishes Harry had accumulated for Padfoot followed him, and the door closed behind him

Padfoot instantly came out from behind the bed and sniffed at the trunk and cocked his head at Harry- Is this the trunk? Harry’s Padfoot-ese translated.

“I think so!” He broke the wax seal on the back and unfolded the letter inside the envelope.

He decided he should read it aloud for Padfoot.

“Dear Mister Potter, I hope this letter finds you well. Here is your Wonderland Special. I burnt both ends of the candle, as they say, but a Full Suit Wonderland Special isn't something I get to make often, especially for such an illustrious client such as yourself. I must say, I think this is a work of art. Truly I am a genius. I'll walk you through its functions and use, so follow this letter and you'll be acquainted with your new home-on-the-go.”

Harry looked at Padfoot who was wagging his tail and smiling dopily at Harry, nudging the trunk with his nose. Harry reached over and ran his hand between Padfoot's ears and scratched where he knew Padfoot liked.

“If you face the Trunk's latches you'll notice the normal locks. There are two sets of keys in the lock. Take them out and hold them tightly. If you want your dog to be able to come and go as he pleases then give him a key as well.”

Harry noticed that both keys were still in the lock as the letter said. They were wrought iron and looked antique, similar to Gringotts keys, but more like something a wizard would make.

He took one and removed it from the keyring it was attached to and handed it to Padfoot, shrugging. Padfoot held it in his paw carefully while Harry did the same as he resumed reading the letter.

“Now you'll notice the Hogwarts crest on the top of the trunk. You, and your dog, should touch that while holding those keys.”

Harry went over to it and waited for Padfoot to do the same. Harry took a deep breath and they both touched the crest together and the keys melted into them. Harry instantly looked at the letter and sighed in relief. “They should have been absorbed into you. That means you're attuned to the trunk now and can lock or unlock it with a touch.” Harry looked at Padfoot, “Handy, huh?”

Padfoot barked and nudged the letter, “Fine, I'll keep going. Let's see… Okay.” He cleared his throat, “Now open up the trunk, you'll see it looks like a normal trunk. This is where you can store your everyday things that make it look like a normal Hogwarts student, but if you close it and tap the Hogwarts crest four times, once in each House, and then open it again it'll be the real trunk. Tap it again to turn it back into the decoy chest.” Harry opened it and indeed it was a standard expanded Hogwarts Trunk, and so he did as the letter said and closed it and tapped the House sections, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and then Slytherin, and then opened it again.

Now instead of an enlarged trunk, it looked a lot deeper. “I installed a staircase, shallow enough so a dog could climb it. If you would go inside now. Don't worry you can't be locked inside, I installed some heavy duty hinges with an installed Depulso on them so if something were on top of it and you wanted out it would push either what's on top off, or move the trunk enough for you to escape. Also movement of the trunk won’t affect the interior.” He paused, glancing at the trunk and the Padfoot hopped inside, vanishing easily and Harry got a bit worried before he heard Padfoot's bark down inside of it and Harry took a step into it, feeling a solid surface under his feet.

He took a deep breath and closed the trunk lid behind him as he walked down the stairs, ducking as he moved past the lid and suddenly the staircase was much more open. It was bright inside the trunk which Harry attributed to magic, obviously, and quickly went down to the bottom of the stairs where Padfoot was sitting, wagging his tail, as he waited.

Harry looked around and noticed it was a large open field with what looked like a forest in the distance, no doubt an illusion, but it made it feel like some countryside he had seen only in movies or in paintings. It was beautiful and when he looked up he noticed a large cottage in the middle of the space. The sky was a beautiful dawn and Harry smiled. He'd always wanted a country cottage, away from people, where he could just relax and live .

Even if this was technically fake and inside a trunk, it was still something beautiful for him and Padfoot.

Padfoot stood up once he saw Harry take in the space and then started running around the soft grass that was between them and the cottage.

Harry walked along the dirt pathway with stones between the staircase and the cottage relatively quickly, probably only about a three minute leisurely walk.

He could feel the charmed breeze flow through the false field, stirring up the transfigured flowers. It really was a masterpiece of magical luggage, then again Harry didn't have much experience with magical luggage, or magically expanded interiors. It seemed incredibly useful, and something Harry figured he might find prudent to learn.

Add that to the list then apparently.

Padfoot was running around the field, and Harry could help but feel like this was definitely worth 400 Galleons just to see how happy Padfoot was.

He walked up to the front door of the cottage and it opened for him as soon as he approached. “Hey, Padfoot! Wanna see our house?” He called out, and then realized how he had worded it and blushed. It wasn't wrong, but still the idea of him sharing a house with Padfoot, a home all of their own, somewhere no one knew, it was utterly peaceful and filled Harry with a pleasurable contentment. 

Even from here he could see Padfoot's ears perked up and the dog came bounding towards him at breakneck speeds and barreled him over onto the soft grass next to the cottage, licking him and wagging his tail so hard Harry was worried he'd hurt it.

It seemed Padfoot was just as excited about this as he was. He'd for sure have to find some way of thanking Mister Ludgar Von Cross the next time he saw him.

Harry laughed and scrambled as Padfoot continued to lick him until the dog decided to cease his assault and let the boy up, gasping for air as the occasional giggle slipped out.

Padfoot waited until Harry was standing again and then trod right inside as Harry followed him.

The inside was nicely constructed, but like Mister Von Cross had said; it was completely empty inside. He'd have to find a way of furnishing it, he might be able to steal a chair or two from one of the classrooms at Hogwarts, but a bed for him and Padfoot would be harder. He'd have to consult the book he bought to see if it had a spell for that. It would be advanced transfiguration, but hey, if he could figure that out, then maybe his Transfiguration grade would improve as well! Maybe having a personal reason to study Transfiguration would help him improve his studies all around.

He looked around, and tried to imagine what it would look like furnished. He wondered what kind of furniture Sirius would like, what kind of colors he’d transfigure the walls into. What kind of knick knacks Sirius would want to place on shelves and on the mantle.

Padfoot was running around the house, exploring each room as he went, and Harry dutifully followed, imaging how he would decorate. He’d never had his own place where he could decorate as he saw fit, never truly had some place that was distinctly his own. Even if the Dursleys were nicer to him, he’d never feel at home at 4 Privet Drive, and that was okay. It was their home, and not his, but this was his first real home.

He checked his watch though and realized it was probably going to be time for the others to wake up and he realized he’d need to store all his new stuff inside of here before they came to investigate.

“Padfoot, I’m going to start bringing some stuff down. It’s getting close to the time to head to King’s Cross, and I don’t want to be caught coming out of the trunk by someone trying to find me. I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”

Padfoot nodded and exited the house with Harry and laid down on the grass, clearly comfortable as Harry jogged towards the staircase and the trunk lid opened without much effort, leaving Harry to peek out through a crack.

When he was sure there was no one inside his room, he walked out and began to grab a few things, mostly boxes, and went back into the trunk and dropped them off in the center of the empty room with a fireplace that Harry had decided would be their living room.

He continued this a few more times until he had brought everything, including Sirius’s wand, down into the pile. He had left the books up in his room, as he wanted to read them on the Express. He’d have to ask Hermione about subscribing to Transfiguration Today, which seemed like it would be something interesting since he was getting more into Transfiguration. Maybe he’d look into some other publications to subscribe to. Hermione would definitely want to help him with that. And if he expressed a sudden interest in learning and studying, Hermione wouldn’t be opposed to it, she’d probably jump for joy and start a study group.

Harry had to suppress his own eye roll at the predictability of it all, though he smiled as he had to admit it would be rather interesting to have good grades for once.

You’re smarter than you realize. You just don’t use it because the girl handles all of that. 

Oh. The voice decided to make itself known again.

Well, at least it was complimenting him, that was nice. He didn’t understand what it meant about the girl, who he assumed was Hermione.

The Hat was correct, you have a good mind. Bright. You could be top of your class– if you applied yourself. You just tell yourself that the girl will handle the studying, and that you’re going to perish before you mature. You don’t actually apply your natural talent for those reasons. If you did, you’d see you’re a powerful wizard, Harry Potter.

That was the first time the voice had been so straightforward with him. Usually it was circumspect, obtuse, and only providing enough details to answer a problem. But now it was lecturing him on applying himself in class.

Well, it wasn’t bad advice, really. And it wasn’t wrong. Harry did let Hermione handle the studying because he knew she would like it, and thus never actually felt much need to learn things himself, and it was right about him feeling like planning for the future was pointless as he believed he’d probably die before he became an adult.

Maybe he should start changing that.

He had Padfoot after all. His friends could move on after he died, but Padfoot? Harry believed that Padfoot might not be able to, and he couldn’t stand the idea of leaving him all alone.

And if he was smarter, more powerful, more skilled, maybe it would be easier to survive for Padfoot.

Or maybe it was just that Harry wanted to be in a world that Padfoot was in, and if he died, then they'd be apart. Harry wasn't going to leave Padfoot, not by choice, and he'd fight to stay by his side.

He looked at Padfoot and knelt down next to him, “I'm gonna try and go grab a bunch of food for you so you won't have to worry during the train trip, okay?”

Padfoot looked up at him, shrugging.

“I know you'll be ‘okay’ but I don't want you hungry.”

Padfoot simply leaned up and licked him across the face, and rolled his eyes. Harry laughed and hugged him tightly, “I'll see you soon. I'll leave my cloak for you.”

He glanced at Harry and then around him at the area as if to say he should be fine here.

Harry tightened his grip on his once more, and Harry knew it was just as much Harry who needed Padfoot as he was telling himself Padfoot needed Harry.

He pulled himself from Padfoot’s fur, wanting to just stay there with him, but knowing he couldn't.

You need to get going, Harry. I need you to go get something.

Now it was making demands. He really should feel worried about that but found it was easier to just go with it.

He waved one last time to Padfoot and ran up the staircase to prevent himself from lingering and nearly jumped out of the trunk. He grabbed his stuff and changed quickly, and was out the door in a flash, locking it behind him.

Okay, now where should he go?

I need you to head down to Knockturn again. Head to Borgin and Burkes.

Borgin and Burkes? Isn't that where he ended up last year during the Floo incident?

Hurry, I know they'll have what we need in stock. In addition, they'll have some items that are very important for you hidden away.

Harry wondered why the voice didn't just tell him to go yesterday when he had already been in Knockturn and wasn't running of limited time.

Interference. My connection waxes and wanes in potency.

Harry sighed, at least it answered why it seemed louder or more clearer at times. Harry figured he could be against it when he figured out what the voice wanted. Besides this was the first time it was acting like this, it might give him more insight into what it was and what it wanted.

It was still early, barely dawn and he nearly sprinted down Diagon ignoring the few witches and wizards already out and turned down Knockturn, which was quickly becoming known to him.

He remembered how to get to Borgin and Burkes, but the voice helpfully reminded him when to turn and soon he was in front of the storefront as the clerk; Mr Borgin if he recalled correctly, was unlocking it.

Go in. Don't look nervous. I'll walk you through this.

Harry took a deep breath, lifted his head high, squared his shoulders and walked in as if he owned the place.

Don't linger. The objects here can, and will, kill. I'll tell you what we need. Speak to Borgin. Tell him you're looking for a set of Twin Journals.

Harry walked up to the counter, steeling his nerves as if he were speaking to Snape and rang the bell.

“Coming.” The voice said from the backroom. Soon the face of Mr Borgin came into view and he sneered at Harry before schooling itself into a sickly sweet smile. So obviously fake.

“Ahh, Mister Potter is it? What brings you to my humble store?”

Harry didn't react, and instead stared the man down, “I'm here to purchase a set of Twin Journals.”

“Ahh, Twin Journals? I just so happen to have a pair in stock for you. While I'm here, what brings such an…outstanding member of the community to my store?” He asked as he turned around, removing his wand and going through the inventory behind the shelf.

Borgin's a snoop. Don't answer him. Just say you were recommended to come here by a former employee. He'll know which one if he has any sense of self preservation.

“A former employee of yours recommended that I come here.”

Borgin stiffened slightly and turned to regard Harry again, now with a bit of trepidation. “Oh, in that case- ah look, right here.” He pulled out a bound set of journals covered in dust that had clearly been right in front of him and blew it off and brought it to Harry, dropping it in front of him and causing a small cloud of dust to stir up, almost prompting Harry to sneeze, which he figured was on purpose.

“Here you go Potter. One pair of Twin Journals. Your total will be-”

We're not done.

“We're not done, Borgin.” Harry said quickly, cutting the man off.

Tell him we also need a Mind Quill, the old Emerald no. 7 ink in the bottomless inkwell, and the box he hid behind the false wall behind the vanishing cabinet in the backroom. The one from the old employee. Two Mind Quills actually. I know he keeps some hidden away.

Harry took a deep breath, “I also require two Mind Quills, the old Emerald no. 7 ink in the bottomless inkwell, and that box you hide behind the false wall behind the vanishing cabinet in the backroom. The one from your old employee.”

Borgin grew even more unnerved by Harry's words, that was obvious even to Harry, but he wasn't quite sure why . All of this interaction was making Harry a little more nervous about who the voice truly was, but sure enough Borgin quickly went into the backroom and left Harry alone.

Harry wondered what that was all about.

I was his old employee.

Harry figured that was probably the case. He'd find out what this was all about soon enough.

Borgin soon came hobbling back behind the counter and dropped a beautiful wooden box, a sealed inkwell and two feather quills next to the journals.

“Will that be all, Lord Potter?”

There we go. Much better attitude, he should be groveling at your feet begging you to spare him his lack of respect, but ‘Lord’ will do in the meantime. Regardless, yes, that will be all.

Harry raised his chin slightly, “That is all I require…For today.”

Good. Very good.  Make him afraid you'll come back for more of my old things. Borgin only responds to fear and greed.

“Good. Good.” He clearly did not sound glad for that though. “Your total will be-”

Tell him that it's already been paid for by all those times that Borgin ripped his old employee off by undercutting his hours. Tell him that it wasn't missed and hasn't been forgotten.

“You'll find that it's already taken care of, think of it as payment for all the hours you undercut your old employee. It hasn't been forgotten.”

Borgin went white and began to place the items in a bag silently. No doubt unwilling to deal with Harry any longer.

He took the bag, but before he could respond the voice was speaking again.

Tell him to forget he saw you today and tell no one at all. Otherwise his former employee might feel he's no longer useful.

Harry was beginning to have an idea of just how important this former employee was, and just how dangerous he was as well.

“Oh, and forget I was here today. And if anyone finds out about me, or what I've purchased, your former employee might find you no longer useful.”

He turned on his heels and walked out, channeling every ounce of Pureblooded arrogance he could, mentally imitating Lucius Malfoy of all people, pretending he wasn't absolutely freaked out by the whole situation.

That's all we need for my needs. Go and grab your dog-wizard his food and snacks, before the others awaken.

Harry hurried around to various now opening stalls and grabbed a bunch of random foods as well as drinks. 

He was initially worried about whether he'd have to worry about what a dog can eat but the voice informed him that Padfoot would be fine eating human food.

He nearly sprinted back to the Leaky Cauldron and back up to the trunk in his room carrying the bag from Borgin and Burkes and the foods and ran towards the house, smiling when Padfoot joined him and began smelling the various foods Harry had gotten and salivating which brought that shameful heat to his abdomen that he refused to acknowledge.

He placed them in the area that was obviously planned on being the kitchen.

Padfoot though was sniffing the Borgin and Burkes bag hesitantly, eyeing Harry questioningly.

“The voice apparently worked there and had me get some stuff from there.”

Padfoot narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Harry shrugged, “Yeah, my feelings on it exactly.”

Get out the Twin Journals. He'll recognize them for what they are. As well as the quills and my inkwell.

Harry shrugged again and pulled out what was requested.

“Apparently you should know what these are. Which is more than I do.”

Padfoot nodded, then nudged one of the quills away from the other and then touched his forehead to it.

Okay, so take one of the journals and leave the other for your dog-wizard. They're bound. What you write in one appears in the other at the same time. The Mind Quill allows him to mentally control the quill. This will allow you to communicate with him even if you're not together.

“Okay, and what about the second quill then?”

That's for me. Hold it up to your forehead and I'll do the rest, if you don't mind.

Harry really felt like he was possessed, but hey, at least it got him free things. 

He knew that wasn't a good excuse… Not really, but he couldn’t stop the voice from being there, so it was better to try and find something positive to focus on instead.

He held the quill up to his forehead, and suddenly he felt the presence of the voice pressing more into his mind like ink. 

Oh, that made far too much sense. He really should think about letting Dumbledore know about this.

Blithering old fool wouldn't be able to remove me, Harry. We're bound together now. Loathe as I initially was to find out. Do not worry however, my survival depends on your own. And I'm very devoted to my survival. Now open your journal.

Harry flipped open his journal and as soon as it was open the quill that was in his hand pulled out and began writing.

There we go. Much more familiar to be writing than speaking as a disembodied voice.

Harry deeply sighed, “Hello, Tom.”

Took you long enough.

Padfoot looked at Harry curiously.

“So what? When I destroyed your Diary you possessed me?”

Close but not exactly. I was very sure you had murdered me. It was very painful and quite dramatic, I must admit. Being stabbed with a basilisk fang is not something I’d like repeated, as it were. However, the next thing I was aware of was you asking yourself what the answer to that test question was. That's when I realized I had escaped death once more. As expected of someone of my caliber, really.

Padfoot barked aggressively at the journal and Harry reached over and pet him.

Calm down, Sirius Black. I can assure you I have no intention of letting Harry come to harm, as my continued existence is tied to his life now. Inextricably. Which means for my own sake, I will oppose Voldemort and protect Harry. And don't worry about me controlling Harry, I don't even have my ability to possess like I did with young Ginerva. I am, unfortunately, subservient to Harry’s mind.

“And why should I believe you?” Harry was the one to ask.

You shouldn't. But I am telling the truth. From what I've been able to gather using your senses, memories, and magic; you are very much like me.

“We are nothing alike, Tom.” Harry knew he shouldn't have trusted the voice. Gods, he was so stupid.

Do not blame yourself too much, Harry. I was using what little mental influence I had to ensure you didn't question my existence more closely. That was mostly all I could do with what little personal power I have remaining. Besides I could have continued my charade of just being a disembodied voice in your head, but I chose, instead, to reveal myself in order to properly assist you. 

And no, we are very much alike, Harry. Not you and Voldemort, but you and I, the Diary of Tom Riddle. But it's neither here nor there as of right now. We will discuss it further with the fool, Albus, later. I am very nearly out of magic to continue speaking like this for the time being. I do hope you enjoy my gift, Harry. And you as well, Sirius Black.

Harry could feel when Tom mentally receded from the front of his mind and glanced at Padfoot who was starting at the journal before his own quill began to move and Harry looked at his journal as writing appeared.

So u have Volmort in ur head? Wow, it actually work! Spelling still off thouh. Must b me. Need practice.

Harry couldn't help but smile at Padfoot's excitement over the quill working momentarily overriding his concern about Voldemort. It was earnest and excitable and made Harry love him more. His tail was wagging suddenly and he looked up at Harry happily.

“Apparently, yes. At least Tom Riddle has always been rather polite. Voldemort's far more rude. But I am glad that the quills and journals work, Padfoot! Now we can talk more! Now you can let me know what kind of foods you want me to sneak you from dinner!”

Meat. Lots meat.

Harry laughed and hugged Padfoot, “I'll make sure to sneak you some then, Sirius. I have to get going though, but I'll keep the journal right next to me the entire time.”

Wait. Need passwrd. So no one can read bt us. I have good one. Place hand on journal cver when I do. And say; I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

Harry did as he was told, placing his hand on the journals cover when Padfoot closed his and touched his paw to it. He wasn't sure how Padfoot would say it but when Padfoot nodded, Harry spoke, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The journal suddenly felt warm and sparkled slightly before it faded.

Harry opened it again and found the pages blank. He looked up at Padfoot who had gotten his own again and was placing a claw on the page and suddenly text bloomed back into sight and Harry realized the password prevented people from reading it by making it turn blank. 

He touched a finger to the page, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” And his own text bloomed back into sight.

Now u r a Marauder, Harry! I am so proud of you. Will explain later. Go I be good.

Harry leaned down and hugged Padfoot tightly, an unexpected joy that almost made him want to cry at Padfoot telling him that he was proud of Harry, before he went back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron.

He made it right in the knick of time as someone was knocking and Harry realized he still had his old trunk around. He quickly opened the new trunk and pushed it down the staircase and closed the lid, and tapped the crest to turn it normal. 

“Come in!” He quickly unlocked the door and took a few steps back, catching his breath.

The door opened and Aunt Petunia walked in, holding her purse in front of her like a wall against the world.

“The others are beginning to get ready to leave for King’s Cross. Are you all packed, Harry?”

Harry nodded, “I just have to put some books into my bag for the trip, but otherwise I’m all set. I can help you move all your new stuff down to your car.”

Petunia nodded curtly, “I would appreciate that, Harry. Thank you.”

Harry nodded. He doubted that he and the Dursleys would ever be considered close , but this sort of polite understanding they had fallen into was night and day compared to how they had acted before. If it remained, then he could see his summers being alright in the future. They wouldn’t be things he’d dread , instead just a minor inconvenience, and one made less inconvenient with his new trunk, as he didn’t doubt Ludgar’s claim that he could do magic inside the trunk and not be detected.

Harry moved over the books he had bought and shoved them into his bookbag, tossing it next to his trunk.

On his way to Petunia’s room, Hermione came out of her room, “Harry, do you mind if I ride with you two? Ron’s being…well, he’s being a bit of an arse.”

Harry snorted, “Sounds about right.” He muttered under his breath, but turned to Petunia who nodded. “Sure, Hermione, the more the merrier.”

It didn’t take that long for Harry to take Petunia’s things to her car, with her carrying the smaller ones. Hermione dragged her trunk to the car, with her own bag of books over her shoulder while Harry went and got his own trunk and Hedwig’s cage and grabbed his bag and made sure he had all his things. He sighed and closed the door behind him as he made his way towards Aunt Petunia’s car, and shoved the trunk and cage into the backseat with himself, while letting Hermione sit in the front, this way he could stay next to the trunk, and by extension, Padfoot.

The ride to King’s Cross wasn’t that long, and when they arrived it was around 10:30, giving them plenty of time to find their seats after they went through Platform 9¾, which was a bit of a shock for Petunia but she adjusted rather fast. 

She didn’t hug Harry when he left, but she did reach down to adjust the collar of his shirt, try to tame his wild hair and shake her head resignedly as she muttered something about why she even bothered trying with his hair when it refused to stay down and instead told him to be safe and come back alive, which Harry figured was practically the same thing as a hug from the Dursleys in regards to him.

He was walking through the compartments looking for a seat, barely able to wait so he could write Padfoot in his journal to make sure he was okay. He didn’t really want to deal with many people, and the compartments were all filling up rather quickly, so he grabbed the first mostly empty one he could, which just so happened to be the last one, which had an adult sitting down in it, seemingly asleep.

Hermione looked at him, then at the man and shrugged. “Professor R. J. Lupin.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, impressed, “Wow, Hermione, you recognize him?”

Hermione blushed, ‘No, it’s just on his case.” She pointed up at the professor's case which looked rather beaten and damaged. Harry wondered why he didn’t repair it.

“So, he’s the new Defense Professor?” Harry asked, taking a good look at him. His robes were shabby, and not in good repair, much like his case, and Harry knew he must have either not had much money, or didn’t like to spend it unless necessary. Harry immediately did some estimates in his head to figure out how much it would cost to get him better robes before stopping himself… he didn't even know this man.

Hermione nodded, “I assume so. That’s the only vacancy, isn’t it?”

“Only one I know of.”

Harry examined him, he looked younger than Harry would have expected, but his light brown hair was already going grey, but that wasn’t too uncommon for Wizards, but combined with how exhausted and sick he looked, Harry immediately felt a bit worried for him, especially with the scars he had going across his face. Though they did add an air of danger to the man that Harry suddenly found was very alluring.

He hoped he’d be a good teacher, because Harry was tired of ones trying to kill him. It would be especially upsetting if the handsome one tried to kill him. Awkward as well.

“So what did Ron do to make you upset?” Harry asked as he got comfortable.

Hermione sighed heavily, leaning back in the seat as she placed her bag next to her, “I was trying to get him to apologize to you after he told me his side of the story.”

“Wasn’t much different from mine, was it?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “ Don't interrupt, Harry.  He claims you were lying to him about ‘things’, but had no proof. That’s when things started getting out of control. He started accusing me of dating you and hiding it from him, and from there he wasn’t making much sense. But for the most part from what he said, and from what Fred and George ended up telling me after, it seems that Ron was jealous and took it out on you.”

“I really don’t understand why he’d be jealous.” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“I mean, in his eyes you’re the Boy-Who-Lived. You're a celebrity.”

“I didn’t ask for that though. The only thing I did to get that name was not die when my parents were murdered. If he wants to be a celebrity for that, then he’s mental. I would give anything to not be the Boy-Who-Lived and just be Harry Potter and have my parents back, Hermione. Why does no one see that?”

Hermione looked down when he spoke, and Harry reached up and scrubbed a few stubborn tears from his eyes.

“ I know that Harry, I really do. But for Ron, all he knows is his family. He can’t actually imagine what it’s like to be without them. All he can see is that you’re rich, handsome, powerful, and famous. Things that Ron is most definitely not. What he sees is that you’re not overshadowed by successful and intelligent brothers, and not forgotten compared to his only sister.”

“So what? He just wants to be noticed by his family? That’s no excuse to take that out on me.”

“Harry, try to understand it from his point of view-”

“Hermione, I would do anything to have a real family. My parents were murdered, I have never known my grandparents, I have no siblings. No real aunts or uncles who genuinely love me. I have no one . And Ron’s complaining that he has too much so he doesn’t get any attention? Forgive me for not being sympathetic.”

Hermione seemingly understood that Harry was still really upset about it all, as she dropped that line of thinking and instead they sat there for a bit in silence. 

Harry realized if he didn't want to be sitting in an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the train ride then he had to bring up a different subject. “Hermione, if I wanted to subscribe to Transfiguration Today , how would I go about doing that?”

That seemed to perk her right up, “Oh you really are getting interested in Transfiguration, Harry! I'm sure someone has a copy so we can send a mail order form to start your subscription. Is there any other ones you've been looking into?”

Harry shook his head, “I wouldn’t know. I was reading a copy of it while I was waiting for something in a store yesterday, and it seemed interesting. I had the realization that I'm not really applying myself in class for…Well, I want to change that. I also realized that I don't know much about Wizarding culture, and I want to change that as well. And what better way to start out than to learn more about magic and what wizards like to read?” He figured that would make sense to Hermione.

“Well for more scholarly journals, there's Challenges in Charming, which is to Charms that Transfiguration Today is to Transfiguration, you probably won't like them but there's Mixture Monthly and The Practical Potioneer for Potions. I've heard of The Warlock's Arsenal, a journal geared toward martial and defense magics, for Defense and Dark Arts. History's Mysteries , is all about magical history and events. The Crystal Seer for Divination.” Harry could see her wrinkle her nose at that one. “That's honestly all I can remember off the top of my head for scholarly journals.”

Harry nodded, he wasn't sure what would be interesting or what Padfoot might find interesting either, “Maybe I'll just subscribe to them all then? Just to try them out? What about magazines? I know about Quidditch Times, Seeker Weekly , and Which Broomstick ? I'll probably get those as well.”

“Well, I'm not quite sure. I know some of the girly magazines from my dorm mates, like Witch Weekly , or Spella Weekly . I don't think you'd be interested in those, as you don't seem like the kind of…well, feminine things don't feel like they'd particularly appeal to you.” She paused and reached down to smooth out her skirt, “But, there is one or two you might be interested in, but I shouldn’t mention them…” She looked away, suddenly nervous, which just made every ounce of Harry’s curiosity and nosiness need to know more.

“Oh come on, ‘Mione! You can't bring something up like that and then just drop it!”

She blushed deeply enough that Harry could see it easily on her sun darkened skin. “Well, after I figured out you were…” she lowered her voice, “Homosexual. I was looking into it so I could be more educated… And I came across a few magazines that…um.” She swallowed and Harry had a feeling he knew where this might be going. “Well, they were intended for wizards who like other wizards.” She squeaked out. 

Yup, Harry had been right. She had found Harry gay wizarding porn mags, and suddenly Harry was very much curious about them.

Hermione took out some paper and a pencil and wrote some titles out. “It's too embarrassing to say out loud, but here. I remembered the titles in case you ever…needed advice.”

He took the scrap of paper and looked over the titles; Warlock's Wand, Of Wizards and Men, Wizard's Whispers, and Lords and Nobles.

“Damn, Hermione!” He swore lightly, “You found four of them?!”

She looked embarrassed, “Well I had to be sure they were what they claimed they were! There's a secret section at Tomes and Scrolls, and Flourish and Blotts, that has adult books in it. One of the older Gryffindor girls explained it to me. Apparently she likes looking at them…” She paused and Harry could see her debating on telling him something further. “Those weren't all the ones she showed me.”

“There's more?!”

Hermione took back the paper and wrote down more titles as if they were forbidden secrets she was divulging to a spy. Furtive glances cast around as if someone were watching intently, ready to pounce out and shout “Caught you!”

Charmed and Enthralled, Transfixed Transformations, Authority and Uniforms, Quidditch Quickies, Dungeon Delights, Bondage and Broomsticks, Sorcerer's Submission, Forbidden Fantasies, Darkest Desires, Cursed Cravings, Mystical Masochists, Potions and Perversions, Lycanthrope Lovers, Pleasurable Plants, and Hexed Hunks.

Harry was floored by the amount, and judging by some of the titles they seemed…extreme. 

“I told you the wizarding community wasn't as judgmental about it. Harry… I really hope you appreciate the things I saw for you. Because I saw a lot. So much. ” She shook her head as if the images were returning to her mind's eye. 

Harry nodded dumbly, staring at this list as if it contained the secrets of the Philosopher's stone itself. He'd never even seen a single porn mag in person before and Hermione was over there at 12, memorizing titles for if Harry ever asked about it. Girl was far too good for him. And had probably seen more phallus than Harry himself had at this point.

Lucky.

Though there probably weren't any magazines based on the kinds of thoughts he had towards Padfoot.

He looked up at Hermione who looked nervous, “Thanks Hermione. I'll have to…uh, check into them when I get a chance.”

She nodded, relaxing. “Good. That's good. I can tell the older Gryffindor girl that you're interested in them… They really were interesting…from a studying point of view!” She blushed deeply, “But she might be willing to show some to you…if you want.”

He would have never suspected Hermione was that kind of girl! He would have teased her about it, but he felt just as embarrassed about it as she probably was. He was still not completely comfortable talking so openly about his homosexuality yet. 

Harry shook his head, “Not yet. I'm not sure if I want that to be something others know right now. I've only just come to terms with it recently.”

Hermione nodded and smiled–  visibly relaxing, and Harry realized knowing she had been a help must have made her feel better, “Well, you could probably sneak into the adult section at Tomes and Scrolls using your Invisibility Cloak during one of our Hogsmeade weekends.”

“Oh no! I knew I forgot something!”

“You didn't get the permission slip signed, did you?” Hermione sighed, “I thought you were on good terms now with your Aunt and Uncle?”

Harry leaned back in his seat, miserable now, “I am, I just genuinely forgot to ask again.”

“Maybe McGonagall will still let you go?”

They both knew she wouldn't.

“I'm sure we'll come up with something!” Hermione said positively, and Harry hoped they would.

That seemed to be the end of that conversation, especially when they remembered there was an adult near them– Professor Lupin was sleeping but still right there.

Harry pulled out his journal and a quill while Hermione pulled out her photo album again and was glancing through the images with a happy smile.

He quickly muttered the password under his breath and it flipped open to the page with a new message on it.

Hope trip well. Am tired. Gonna sleep.

Harry smiled softly at the words, running his fingers over them as if they could convey his feelings to Padfoot.

Get some rest, Padfoot. You deserve it. Love you.

He closed the journal and placed it back in his bag and pulled out one of the books he had bought, the one on Economics and making money. That would be handy for whatever his next illegal purchase would be. Hopefully a flying carpet.

Neither of them really spoke for a while, even when Hermione switched to one of their textbooks, presumably to get a headstart on classes.

It was actually nice just sitting with Hermione and reading. Whenever he was confused by something he could ask her and she usually knew the answer and they’d go back to their comfortable silence.

He purchased a good amount of sweets and chocolates when the Trolley witch came by and gave some to Hermione, who appreciated it, taking a handful without even looking up from her textbook.

It had started raining sometime around midday, and they had quickly grown used to the increasingly grey sight outside the train’s windows as they continued their ride north.

It wasn’t long before the condensation on the inside of the window made the outside into an endless foggy plane of grey.

Within the hour it was storming outside, and the sky was darker than it would have normally been at this time, almost appearing like night when the train lurched to a stop, and the lights began to flicker.

“Hermione, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

Harry stood up and opened the compartment door, looking out and noticing a bunch of other kids doing the same when the train lurched once more, knocking him back into his seat.

“Harry, I think I saw something outside.” Hermione said, clutching her textbook against her chest as she moved closer to the window to look. “Harry, I think someone’s coming aboard the train. I see dark figures.”

The lights went out suddenly, leaving them in darkness, though the little faint light coming in from the window allowed Harry to make out Hermione’s silhouette just barely, as well as the sleeping form of Professor Lupin.

Suddenly the entire world started feeling colder, like the warmth inside Harry's bones and blood was being wicked away by a winter’s wind. He could see his breath fog as he breathed, but it only made him colder. Hermione seemed to be feeling the same way as the glass of the window began to frost over and Harry cuddled in on himself to try and feel some warmth again.

Why was it so cold all of a sudden?

Suddenly Professor Lupin was standing up, and Harry wasn’t even sure when he had awoken, but he was holding a ball of fire in his palm. Harry looked at him in the wavering firelight, his eyes were wary and alert, as he watched the door.

“Don’t move, you two. Stay right here. I’m going to go investigate.” He went to move for the door when the door began to move on its own and Harry could suddenly see a dark figure behind the frosted glass.

As it curled its hand the door handle began to turn and the door slid open without being touched.

Soon the dark figure was entering the compartment; fully robed in dark cloth and Harry was unable to see any skin until its arm reached out and Harry saw the grey mottled and scabbed skin. It instantly reminded him of something left to decay in the water.

But as soon as Harry noticed its skin, the thing pulled it back under the dark robes it was wearing.

Then it began to breathe in; a ragged sucking sound that seemed to draw in all the warmth that was left inside of him.

It was facing Harry now, and suddenly that aching cold went deeper than bones, deeper than blood. It was inside him. At his very core there was only the cold emptiness that made him feel like he was the only thing alive around him, even if he knew Hermione and Professor Lupin were right there, that the train was filled with children, but Harry was alone .

He couldn’t see anymore, all there was was darkness as Harry realized his eyes had rolled back in his skull and he couldn’t move.

It was like that one winter when the heater had broken and Harry had to curl up in the corner of his cupboard to try and conserve heat, all alone and scared that he wouldn’t wake up if he went to sleep.

Or the time he had accidentally used magic and ended up in the sewer, not knowing what happened or where he was and crying out for someone to come help him. It had taken hours for someone to hear him, having worn his voice out crying quickly, instead quietly sobbing until the authorities called someone to come get him out.

Then he could feel the Basilisk’s venom in his blood again, could feel the pain as his limbs began to shut down, losing feeling as the icy cold hands of death began to reach around him.

He could feel Quirrell’s hands around his neck as his lungs began to burn as the edges of his vision grew dark at the edges and he could hear Quirrell screaming as Harry tried to fight him off and Harry could feel the skin around his fingers begin to peel and crack as Harry dug his fingers deeper into Quirrell’s skin. The desperation and fear of his life being so close to being ended for the first time.

He suddenly felt so alone, soul as cold as ice.

He just wanted to give up and fall into the sinking dark, let himself be pulled deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of him. No more pain and loneliness, no more fear and death.

That’s when he heard screaming; distant and pleading, someone begging to spare him, and Harry suddenly remembered Padfoot. He couldn’t give in, because then Padfoot would cry when he slept without Harry.

“Padfoot…”

He tried to hold on to himself, to his mind and his will to live, tried to fight against the riptide pulling him deeper in the vortex that was that horrible creature’s breathing.

He tried to resist, then it faded away as Harry lost consciousness.

“Harry! Wake up! Please, Harry!”

He was startled back to reality by the feeling of someone slapping him.

“What’s happened? Where am I?” Harry asked, reaching up to rub his face.

“Harry, are you okay?” Suddenly he felt arms wrap around him tightly and realized it was Hermione hugging him. He weakly tried to return the hug but found his limbs felt numb and weak.

“I think so…” He knew it was a lie, but it was what he needed to say. He couldn’t tell her what he had really felt. How close he had been to giving up. “What was that thing? And who was screaming?”

“I didn’t hear anyone screaming, Harry.” Hermione said, hesitantly, looking worried.

“But I heard screaming…”

He was broken from his thoughts by the sound of something cracking and he looked next to him to see Professor Lupin kneeling beside him, breaking off a piece of the chocolate Harry had bought and handing it to him, “Here, eat this. It will help you recover from the attack.”

“What was that thing, Professor?” Harry asked, taking a hold of the piece of chocolate, though not eating it yet.

“Eat.” Lupin said, gesturing to the chocolate again and Harry began to nibble at it. “It was a Dementor, Harry, the guards of Azkaban Prison. Most likely looking for Sirius Black.”

Harry felt his blood run cold again, this time it wasn’t due to the Dementor. “Sirius Black? Why would they be looking for Sirius Black?” He managed to get out.

“Well, he escaped Azkaban prison about a month ago.”

“Harry, haven’t you been reading the Prophet?” Hermione asked, “Or seen all the wanted posters around Diagon?”

Harry shook his head, “I haven’t really been reading the Prophet lately, and I just assumed those were normal wanted posters and didn’t really look at them…”

“Well, they’re looking for him. Most likely furious they let someone escape the prison.” Lupin said. He reached down and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, his hand tightening comfortingly as he smiled at Harry fondly, “Rest Harry, a Dementor feeding on you is a traumatic event, you need to recover your strength. I’m going to go speak to the driver about this.” He turned towards Hermione, “Thank you for your assistance, Ms Granger, please make sure he eats the chocolate, it’ll help him stop feeling so cold.”

Harry took another nibble of the chocolate while Professor Lupin stepped around him and exited the compartment, looking around before heading towards the front.

Harry slid back up into his seat, trying to relax. Each bite of the chocolate was making him feel less weak, and returning some of his mind back to him. Things weren’t as cloudy or confusing now.

“What happened to me, Hermione?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione who was watching him carefully.

“Well, when the thing– the Dementor– came in and it was looking around…Or at least I think it was, I couldn’t see its face, but then it looked at you and…” She swallowed, “Well, you went really stiff. Like you couldn’t move. And then you fell out of your seat and started seizing. I was worried you were having a seizure! But then Professor Lupin stepped over you as soon as you start seizing and aimed his wand at the Dementor. He told it none of us were hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks,” Harry tried not to let the fact that he was hiding Sirius Black in his trunk, however, show somehow. “But when it refused to leave, he said a quick spell and a silver light appeared from his wand and drove the Dementor away. He immediately had me get the chocolate while he tried to bring you back around.”

“So was it you or him that smacked me?” Harry asked, trying to force himself to grin.

“He did. I was too freaked out.”

“Well, I'll have to thank him then. At least no one saw me pass out.”

“Well…”

Harry sighed, “Who saw?”

“Well…while you were unconscious, Ron came by.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Of course Ron saw. It would only be worse if Draco Malfoy saw.”

Hermione smiled softly, “Well at least that didn't happen.”

Harry took another bite of chocolate, letting it melt a bit on his tongue. “It really does help.”

Soon enough Professor Lupin returned to the compartment, “Ah good, you're eating it.” He sat back down. “We'll be at Hogwarts in about ten minutes. Eat the rest of that. It should get you back to strength, though you'll feel a bit out of sorts for the rest of the day. Up and down. It's to be expected after being fed upon so deeply as the Dementor did to you.” He held his hand up to Harry's forehead, and Harry noticed his palms were rough and calloused, and the beast of them felt incredibly nice. They also felt good beyond that, the way the roughness slid along his skin, the firmness he was pressing it against Harry with. “Still clammy, just keep eating that, Harry, and I'm sure you'll be fine soon enough.” Professor Lupin's soft smile made Harry feel a lot better, and Harry had to admit that Lupin was easily the most attractive of his professors, by far. Lockhart was too pretty , while Lupin's attractiveness was simultaneously pleasantly humble and surprisingly manly.

Harry flushed a bit when Professor Lupin kept his hand held to his forehead.

Professor Lupin's face scrunched up slightly, “Maybe I should write ahead to Madam Pomfrey to get you checked out, after all. You're getting hot all of a sudden.”

Hermione snickered when Harry shook his head, obviously aware of what Harry was thinking. “You're just really warm, Professor.” He said, reaching up to fix his glasses as he tried to get his blush under control.

Professor Lupin seemed to accept that as he removed his hand and smiled brightly at Harry, though Harry noticed his nostrils flaring for a split second and his smile suddenly looked a bit wider. It had the opposite effect on Harry, instead making him flush more. Lupin smiling made the teacher look far more attractive.

Harry hoped that he wouldn’t try to kill him, because really that wouldn't be fair.

He could see Hermione grinning at him in spite of it all, and he blushed even more.

“So Professor Lupin…you're our new Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor?” Harry asked as he regained his composure.

Professor Lupin’ nod was quick but assured, “I am. Though I hope I'll be up to Hogwarts’ standards.”

Harry chuckled darkly, “As long as you don't try to kill me too, then I wouldn't care if you were secretly a werewolf!”

Lupin swallowed heavily, and Harry couldn't help but watch his Adam's apple move and swallow in kind. “Well, I wouldn't try to harm you at all, Harry. I can promise you that.”

Harry smiled, “Then I'm sure you'll be a wonderful Defense Professor. You don't have Voldemort in the back of your head, nor intend to steal my memories and leave me to die.” He turned to Hermione, “Guess the third time’s the charm?”

Hermione looked uncomfortable with the conversation.

Professor Lupin reached over and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, “I'm truly sorry you went through that, Harry. A boy your age shouldn't have to.”

“Just because I shouldn't have to doesn't stop it from happening.” He said tersely, and realized it may have come across rudely. “Sorry, I'm unfortunately growing used to people, and creatures apparently, trying to kill me.”

Ask him when he graduated.

“Oh, by the way Professor- what year did you graduate?”

Lupin blinked a few times at the sudden question, “78, why?”

He went to school with your parents.

“Oh, you went to school with my parents?”

Professor Lupin suddenly seemed uncomfortable, “Yes, Harry. I did.”

“You knew them, didn't you?” Harry asked before the voice could continue.

Professor Lupin looked even more uncomfortable, “Yes, I did.”

Harry nodded, “Can you tell me about them one of these days, Professor? I would like to know more about them…”

Lupin nodded slowly, and Harry could see his request was weighing heavily on the man already, but Harry needed to know more about them, he had so little to go off of, so little he could use to flesh them out in his head into real people instead of abstract personal myths who who they could have been , “I can try, Harry. Forgive me, but give me some time, it'll be hard talking about them with you. They were my friends after all.”

Harry was fine with that, just knowing that someone who knew them would be able to tell him more about them would be better than the little information he had. Maybe he could tell him more about the photos in his parents’ photo album.

And knowing he was friends with his parents helped alleviate his anxieties about him trying to kill him though.

The remainder of the trip was spent in silence, and Harry wished that he was able to visit Padfoot right now because he was sure that laying with Padfoot would make some of the residual cold leave him, and his fur would make Harry feel comforted, and his smell would keep Harry from thinking of what had happened, help organize his thoughts into something he could actually process and understand.

When the train stopped in Hogsmeade Station, the students began to pour out of the train, and Harry hung around near the back of the crowd, not wanting to attract too much attention, especially if Ron had told people he had fainted.

He wanted to believe Ron wouldn’t be that much of a bastard, but it was Ron. He had a tendency to be a right bastard when he was angry at someone; cruel and unrelenting. He could remember how much he tormented and insulted Hermione in the beginning of first year, and now that it was directed at him, Harry was sure it would be worse.

The rain was coming down hard, and Harry was worried he’d get soaked, even with his robes.

Pluviabilis. The Umbrella Charm. Hold your wand up like you’re holding an umbrella.

Harry shrugged and did as Tom suggested and suddenly a nearly invisible umbrella formed from his wand and shielded him from the rain.

“What spell is that?” Hermione asked, nodding up at the magic blocking the rain.

“Pluviabilis. The Umbrella Charm.” 

Hermione looked at it, and copied it, and Harry couldn’t help but notice the faint bit of surprise in her eyes. She had always been the one to show him new spells, maybe she wasn’t used to Harry being the one to learn them first.

See! Harry could be smart as well.

Soon enough she was protected from the rain as well, and the two could hear Hagrid in the distance directing the first years towards the boats.

They approached the mud track where at least a hundred magically drawn coaches were awaiting the students, and going down the road towards the castle.

As they were hanging out near the back of the crowd, by the time they approached the coaches, most of them were already on their way, leaving them very few options. As he approached the coach he noticed it wasn’t drawn by magic as he initially thought, instead there were two large horse-like things hitched up to the coach.

He approached it and really looked at it. It was nearly skeletal, with a dark grey skin stretched over its form with wings that reminded him of a bat.

“What are these things?” He asked himself as Hermione got into the coach, as one of them turned and regarded him.

It’s a thestral.

“Oh, that’s a thestral.” A voice spoke up the same time Tom did. It was a soft, almost dreamy voice that startled Harry as it was right next to him.

He turned and saw a young girl with dirty blonde hair that was almost at her waist with silvery grey eyes that seemed to make her look very surprised, she reached out and scratched the thestral’s head which it seemed to appreciate by the odd sound it made and leaning into her hand more.

“Um, hello?”

“Oh, hello, Harry Potter.” She said, turning to him, smiling softly. “I didn’t expect for you to be so far in the back of the crowd, as you made quite an entrance last year in the flying car. I wish I could have seen it. Then again, no one saw, so I don’t feel as left out.” She held out her hand for him to shake, and he hesitantly shook it. “Luna Cassandra Lovegood.”

“Nice to meet you Luna.” Harry said, putting a smile on his face.

“Likewise.”

“Harry, we should get going.” Hermione said, sticking her head back, noticing Harry wasn’t alone. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Luna Lovegood, apparently.”

“Hello, you’re Hermione, correct? The one who should have been a Ravenclaw?” She asked, smiling serenely.

Hermione didn’t know how to react to that, “Uh, yes? I think?”

Luna nodded, and stepped up into the coach, and offered a hand to Harry, who took a hold and was surprised by how easily she helped pull him into the coach.

“One moment!” Another voice called out, and into the carriage stepped Professor Lupin, making Harry blush.

It smelled like straw as they sat down, and Luna was staring at him with a soft smile. Her clothes were layered and made her look quite different from most of the other students.

“I’m not surprised you can see them, the thestrals, I mean.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her leg.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, only those who’ve seen death can see them, and your life seems to brush the border between life and death intimately. That’s what makes people so afraid of them. They're considered omens of death. And much like the Grim, vastly misunderstood.”

“Why didn’t I see them last year then? After Quirrell?”

Luna shrugged softly, “Sometimes magic doesn't quite make sense, even by its own standards and rules. Magic hates to be defined so rigidly after all. Perhaps it has to do with your friend who smells like ink?”

“Friend who smells like ink? Hermione?”

“The one hanging around you. The boy.” She smiled and looked next to Harry.

She can perceive me?

He lowered his voice and leaned in closer, “Um, by chance what does he look like?”

Luna smiled, “Oh, he’s wearing Slytherin robes. Dark hair. Sixth or seventh year if I had to guess. Quite handsome, if I do say. But he’s rather old in bearing. He looks rather surprised that I’m looking at him.” She was glancing slightly to Harry’s left rather than at Harry.

She can see me. How is that possible? Even you can't see me.

Harry stiffened, “Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s a secret, oh! Much like the reason for your blushing when the Professor joined us. Forget I said anything then.” She smiled and crossed her hands in front of her on her lap and started humming to herself as she looked around at the trees.

Harry pointedly avoided looking at Hermione or Professor Lupin, not wanting to see how they’d react to that information, if they even believed it.

He felt the cold before he could see them and as they bounced and swayed towards the magnificent wrought iron gates flanked by large stone pillars topped with the winged boars the school was known for, he saw them.

Two Dementors flanked either side of the gate, their towering forms floating, turning to regard him, and Harry had to close his eyes and press himself into his seat to stop himself from shaking as he remembered the feeling of the Dementor feeding on him.

Lupin reached over and placed a hand on Harry’s knee and Harry let the warmth of another human keep him grounded until they were past the Dementors and far enough away that the warmth returned.

He shuddered once he was able to relax and held his arms across his chest, not caring if it made him look weak. He’d never forget the cold they caused inside of him.

Soon the carriage was picking up speed as it approached the castle, and he watched Hermione look out the tiny window of the carriage to look at all the turrets and spires of the castle.

Harry on the other hand was trying not to hyperfocus on Professor Lupin sitting next to him, especially when the carriage would bounce and cause his leg to touch Professor Lupin’s.

It was probably just because he had come to terms with being gay that he was so affected by the older man, and Professor Lupin was the first man he was openly attracted to like this- barring Padfoot, but Harry didn’t think that would count considering…well, he was a dog, and Harry didn’t want to think about how much that attraction burnt inside of him in ways that made him feel guilt for how alluring it was, and in places inside of him both physically and spiritually that made him feel complete. He wasn’t going to think about that right now; couldn’t think about it because it would consume him if he did.

Even if he understood that it was most likely just him coming to terms with his homosexuality and using Professor Lupin as a convenient outlet for that new feeling, he still couldn't help but imagine what his arms would look like when they moved and he could see more up his sleeves and see that there was more muscular than his robes would imply. Or when he'd shift and the collar of his robes would move slightly and Harry could see some chest hair peeking through that made Harry’s hands twitch with the desire to run his fingers through it like he did with Padfoot’s fur.

The carriage swayed when it finally came to a stop in front of the castle.

When they got out there was already a crowd of students forming their way into the large Entrance Hall through the giant oak doors as they all made their way towards the Great Hall.

“Potter! Granger! Come here!”

They both turned and noticed Professor McGonagall standing across the crowd, gesturing for them to come to her.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Harry Potter. And you as well miss Hermione. I should get going to see Flitwick, I’m a part of the Choir. I'll see you soon, Harry.”

Harry awkwardly waved goodbye to her, her cheerfully skipping away as she began singing lightly to herself as he and Hermione made their way towards McGonagall, with Professor Lupin close behind.

What did Harry do wrong already? Had she somehow found out about his trunk? Did she know he had gone to Knockturn Alley for illegal, or at least not quite legal goods? He didn't know what he had done to get in trouble so quickly!

“You're not in trouble, I just need a word with you both in my office.” She seemed to see the concern on Harry's face as she led them, plus Lupin still, towards her office.

When they walked inside McGonagall turned to Lupin, “You owled ahead, Remus, that Potter was attacked by a Dementor on the Express?”

Professor Lupin, whose first name was Remus apparently, nodded, “Yes, Minerva. I'm not sure why it seemed drawn to him more than me, though I have an idea, but it went right for young Harry here. It must have fed deeply, he was unconscious for a good 15 minutes. I've already given him chocolate, and he seems to be recovering.”

“I’m glad you know your remedies, Remus.” Harry turned when he heard Madam Pomfrey enter the room and come towards Harry already rushing to examine him.

“Why is it always you, Potter? Can't you go a single day without ending up in my care? Term hasn't even officially started yet.”

“Believe me, Madam, I wake up every day hoping that I don't end up in your care by the end of that day.”

She tutted and shook her head at Harry, “Do you think you need to rest in the Hospital wing?”

“No! I'm good.”

“I can't believe they've stationed Dementors of all beings around the school. Potter won't be the last to suffer. They affect those who are more delicate more easily.”

Harry felt offended by that, “I'm not delicate.”

Remus Lupin spoke now, “She means more spiritually susceptible. They're drawn to you because your soul is bright, Harry.”

Well that didn't seem as bad as being delicate, he could accept that.

“Are you sure you won't need to stay in the Hospital Wing for the night?”

Harry shook his head, “I'm fine. The chocolate Professor Lupin gave me has been really helping.”

Madam Pomfrey didn't look convinced, “If you say so. I'll prepare your bed in case something else happens before the night is through. Just in case.”

Harry sighed, “That's probably for the best.” he muttered under his breath but Pomfrey heard it nonetheless and let out a sharp chuckle before she left the room.

McGonagall gave him a once over and seemed appeased, “You can head to the Feast, Potter, I have to speak to Granger about her schedule.”

Harry turned to leave when Lupin caught his eye, “Actually Harry might I speak to you? Alone.”

Harry made sure his wand was somewhere he could easily grab.

I don't sense hostility from him. Just concern. Be careful still.

Harry nodded and took a step towards Lupin who nodded as well and led Harry out of McGonagall’s office.

Remus looked around and led Harry towards a hallway away from where anyone could see and Harry was genuinely worried he was going to attempt to kill him before the first day.

As soon as they were out of ear and eyeshot of McGonagall’s office Lupin pulled Harry aside, nearly pressing him into the stone wall behind him.

“Where did you hear the name ‘Padfoot’, Harry?” He held onto Harry's shoulder firmly, and Harry noticed his grip was incredibly strong. Harry had a split second wondering about how strong he really was, and how easy it would be for Professor Lupin to wrap those broad, scarred hands around his neck and squeeze.

He wondered how long it would take him to pass out, and if that would feel as good as his brain suddenly thought it might. Especially since it would leave bruises in the shape of Professor Lupin’s hands after.

He swallowed and cast off those wandering thoughts; he was very sure he hadn't said anything about Padfoot to Lupin. 

“What are you talking about, Professor?”

“Harry, I know you need to have your secrets, but I need to know where you heard that name. It's of the utmost importance. Your safety could be in jeopardy.”

Harry could tell by the way that Remus Lupin was staring at him, something between concern and terror in his eyes that let Harry know that Lupin believed what he was saying.

“When did I say that?”

“Before you passed out, you said the name Padfoot. And there's only one person I know that goes by that name, Harry. Only one person who has a connection to you. There are only two people alive who could tell you that name, and I'm one of them.”

He knows Sirius Black personally.

“You know Sirius Black, you know that he goes by Padfoot.” Harry realized, resisting the urge to slap a hand over his mouth as he realized he confirmed that he knew Padfoot, now suddenly on edge.

“Have you encountered Sirius, Harry? He's incredibly dangerous. He will kill you if given even a single chance.”

Don't react.

Harry couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips, then tried to cover it up, but knew it was futile as it quickly turned into incredulous laughter, 

“Harry, what's funny?” He knew that Remus was thinking Harry was mental, he could tell.

“Sorry, Professor. It's just what you said– it's just not true.”

“Harry, Sirius Black murdered 12 Muggles, and was the cause of that night back in 1981.”

Harry shook his head, “No, he couldn't have.” He firmly believed that. Padfoot wasn’t the kind of person who would kill people in cold blood, he just knew it. 

And if Remus Lupin was implying what Harry was thinking he was implying…Well. It was impossible. Sirius was not the kind of person who would do that. Padfoot couldn't. Padfoot liked to play fetch, and take baths, and cuddle up with Harry to go to sleep, would tell him he loved him and lick his face when he was happy. 

He knew he should be doubtful about his certainty. After all, he’d only known Padfoot for a month, and he had seemed like he had wanted to kill him when he first met, but Harry just couldn’t accept that Padfoot could be that person. Couldn’t even accept that Sirius was that kind of person. After all, if he was so keen on killing Harry, wouldn’t he have tried to kill him every night since they met? Could Padfoot do any of that?

Doubtful. Your dog-wizard is absolutely pitiful at subterfuge, or any sort of emotional control, really. His mind is so loud it is hard not to pick up on. That's how I was able to figure out he was a wizard. Even as a dog all he could think was your name when he saw you, his attempts to communicate allowed me to glean the information from him. Besides, he's had more than enough opportunities to kill you without getting caught. A lot of opportunities.

Tom was right. Padfoot could have killed him that first night, and then every night since when he was sleeping with Harry. Could have torn his throat out without much trouble and been done with it.

“Regardless, Professor Lupin, I haven't met Sirius Black yet.” He technically wasn't lying, he'd only meet Padfoot. He was still working on getting to meet the actual Sirius Black.

Remus’s hands tightened on Harry's shoulders a bit more, and Harry realized he truly was far stronger than he appeared. “Harry, please don't protect him. He's a monster.”

Harry shook his head, a sudden frisson of rage at the word being applied to Padfoot,  “Like I said, Professor, I haven't seen Sirius Black.”

“But you have seen Padfoot, correct?”

Harry refused to answer that.

Tell him you'll show him Sirius.

What?! No! There's no way he would show Sirius to someone who's after him.

Make him swear to not tell anyone.

“I'll tell you what you want to know…if you swear not to tell anyone.” Harry said standing tall. He had to trust Tom on this, he hoped it would work out.

“Fine, I swear.”

Make him make a Wizard's vow. Binding.

“Make a Wizard's Vow then.”

“Fine.” Though there was a bit of a hesitation in Remus’s response, he quickly regained his composure.

He thinks because there isn't a third to bear witness it won't be binding. He's mistaken. Hold out your hands to shake his. Take out your wand and hold it across your heart, and let me use your magic for the spell.

Harry thrust out his hand, and Remus took it firmly, and Harry had to temper the little bit of arousal it gave him with the knowledge this man was after Sirius.

Repeat after me: Do you Remus Lupin, swear to not reveal, or act upon, any of the information Harry Potter reveals to you this evening, in any way that might constitute a betrayal to you or him, or without specifically seeking permission each time for each piece of information you learn from Harry Potter, from Harry Potter beforehand without any attempts to coerce, trick, or manipulate that permission from him?

Harry said exactly as Tom said them, beginning to note exactly how he was attempting to protect Harry's secrets. Harry would have just said something simple, along the lines of “Do you swear to not tell about Sirius?” Which he was beginning to realize could have been easily gotten around.

Remus stiffened, but nodded, “I swear.”

Now you'll give your side of the bargain. Unlike an Unbreakable, which would kill him if he tried to break it which I’m sure neither of you would like to be bound into, this is a sort of magical, yet still very much binding, contract. If he attempts to break it, or fails to uphold his side, his magic will lash out at him, proportionate to the infraction against his Vow and you will immediately know it has been broken and how. It will be reciprocal. Now repeat after me again: In return for Remus Lupin’s silence and inaction, I, Harry Potter, will truthfully and honestly answer any and all questions you ask me until the sun rises, nor will I lie to you willfully, as well as show you the individual you seek, without attempts to avoid your questions, manipulate my words to technically avoid answers, or misdirect you with half truths or refusals to answer. Do you accept the terms of this contract, Remus Lupin?

Why did he have to do so much as well?!

Because the Vow requires equal payments to enact, his side of the contract requires his inaction, but lasts indefinitely until you release him from it. Your provisions require much more on your part but only last through the night, this balances out against his provisions. You're entering a Bargain, with your magics signing the contract. Now say it.

Harry sighed and said his part of the bargain, holding his wand up between them.

“I accept the terms you have set forth, and accept the clauses as you have set them forth.” Remus had a faint glimmer in his eyes that Harry was sure meant that Tom had been right in assuming that he didn't think it would be magically binding.

In a flash, silver chains ensnared their arms, and Harry could feel his magic shift, as if something were being written on it, like some being carved. 

Remus gasped, and Harry watched as two pieces of parchment materialized in front of each of them.

The silver chains vanished and suddenly their signatures appeared on the bottom, along with the print: “Witnessed by the Memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“What was that?” Remus asked.

“You assumed the deal wouldn't be binding, but it was.”

“How?!”

“It was witnessed by Tom Riddle, who technically was the one to cast the Vow over both of us.” Harry couldn't stop himself from answering, feeling an inexplicable urge to speak the truth with a vague idea of pain at the idea of lying.

“Tom Riddle?”

“Technically the Memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle, a copy of Voldemort that existed in his Diary that I destroyed last May.” It was pouring from him like he couldn’t stop it. “Professor, if I'm going to answer all of your questions, can we please do it somewhere more private? I really don't like the idea of spilling all my secrets where anyone could stumble upon us and listen in.”

Remus nodded and led Harry to the Defense classroom office. Harry was surprised to find that Lupin's things were already in the room.

“Okay, we should be private enough here. Now tell me, are you working for Voldemort?”

Harry shook his head, frankly offended, “Of course not. I'm going to destroy him.”

Remus seemed to relax slightly, a fair bit of tension leaving his shoulders, “Then why is Voldemort witnessing our Vow?”

“Voldemort isn't. The Memory Of Tom Riddle did. And because he's in my head.”

“What's the difference?”

“The Memory Of Tom Riddle is a copy of Voldemort from when he was 16 and unleashed the basilisk upon the school when he opened the Chamber of Secrets.”

“How'd he end up in your head?”

“As far as I can figure, when I destroyed the Diary, the piece of him inside of it jumped into me to avoid death.”

“Is he controlling you?”

“No, he claims that's impossible, that he's basically subservient to me, but he does talk on occasion and give me advice or tell me what to do, but he can't control me.”

Remus sat down in his chair, “Do you believe him?”

Harry shrugged, ”He hasn't given me a reason not to, but he's still Tom Riddle, I don't completely trust him, even if he claims his existence is tied to my life now.”

“Well, at least you're not naive.” Remus said, an exhausted chuckle escaping him.

“Too many people try to kill me for me to be mindlessly trusting, Professor. I was prepared to have to fight you when we left McGonagall’s office since I believed there was a genuine chance you would attempt to murder me.” Harry felt bad at the full body flinch that caused the Professor, but it was the truth, and he couldn’t not say it thanks to the Vow.

Remus frowned, “I am really sorry that you have to feel that way, Harry. I just need to know you're safe. Where is Sirius Black?”

Harry knew he'd ask eventually and he was tempted to try and lie, but as soon as he thought that he felt a sharp pain in his head that let him know he couldn't do that. “He's inside my school trunk.”

“You smuggled him into the school? Harry, that's incredibly dangerous!”

“Technically, Professor, I smuggled my pet dog into the school. I haven't actually seen Sirius Black as a human yet.”

“Your pet? Harry, how long has Sirius been around you?”

“I met him for the first time about a month ago. August 6th. When I was going to run away from the Dursleys.”

“When did you know he wasn't a normal dog?”

“Right away. Tom picked up on it. I would have been terrified if he hadn't told me to stay calm. That's why I know that whatever people say about Padfoot is a lie. He's had hundreds of opportunities to kill me. I even put down my wand in front of him and he just pushed it back to me.”

Remus furrowed his brow, and sighed, “Maybe he's trying to gain your trust for something.”

Harry shook his head, “Professor, I've let him sleep in my bed every night for the past month. He cries in his sleep if I'm not there with him and he refuses to let me turn him back into a wizard even after I got him a wand. He says he wants to be Padfoot.”

Remus didn't say anything for a while. “That does sound like Sirius… I have to see him, Harry. You said he was in your school trunk?”

“Yes.”

“Let me get a House-elf to bring it then.” In a few moments a House-elf appeared and Remus told them to bring Harry Potter’s trunk.

Harry didn't even know Hogwarts had House-elves, let alone ones who helped the professors.

After a few moments, the trunk appeared next to them.

“Harry, please open the trunk.”

Harry didn't want to, but Tom's bargain had said Remus couldn't act on anything revealed to him by Harry, so that should protect him and Padfoot.

Hopefully.

He touched the Hogwarts Crest in sequence and popped the lid off the trunk. “Follow me.”

He stepped into the trunk and climbed down a bit until the stairs evened out into a normal staircase.

Remus followed closely behind him, and Harry was growing increasingly worried, even with the Vow.

“What do you think, Professor?” Harry subtly raised his voice as they began walking further.

“How is this-?” Remus asked as he looked around.

“Magically expanded.” Harry replied, taking in the surroundings again.

“How much did this cost ?” Remus asked, obviously shocked.

“300 for the trunk itself, an additional 100 to get it done overnight. Worth every coin.”

Remus looked absolutely astonished at the price, much like Fred and George had when he said it.

“When did you get it?” He was looking around, taking it all in. It was rather nice to show it off, Harry felt.

“This morning.”

Suddenly Harry heard growling and knew Padfoot had heard them. Which is exactly what Harry had hoped when he raised his voice slightly and asked Lupin about what he thought. He needed to give Padfoot some warning, and if he had been asleep it would have been useless to use the journals.

Harry quickly made his way behind the angry Padfoot who was baring his teeth at Remus and growling deeply.

Harry instantly tangled his fingers in Padfoot’s fur, letting his presence calm down his fears.

“I'm sorry, Padfoot. I accidently said your name when the Dementor attacked me…” Padfoot instantly turned around and pressed his head into Harry's side, leaning up to lick his face once and Harry knew he was suddenly worried for Harry.

“I'm fine, I'm just really sorry. He can't tell anyone about you though, I made him swear a Wizard's Vow.” Padfoot licked him once more, which Harry knew was an attempt to tell him it was okay and turned back towards Lupin.

“It really is you, Sirius. After all these years Padfoot still looks exactly the same…” Harry noticed that Remus sounded more sorrowful than the fury he expected, and the way he looked at Padfoot was more like heartbreak than hatred. It seemed they really did have a history.

Sirius growled more, and Harry could feel his fur bristle around his fingers.

“How could you, Sirius?! How could you do it? How could you sell them out like that to Voldemort of all people? They trusted you!” Remus shouted, suddenly looked anguished and furious, brandishing his wand, hand trembling as his eyes were wet.

Padfoot's anger seemed to dissipate and instead he began to press himself down like he did when he was scared, whimpering and Harry knelt down next to him and hugged him, glaring at Remus.

“Change back, Sirius. Stop hiding next to Harry, we both know you're just using him.” His wand was still trembling and he looked like he wanted to lower it but couldn’t bring himself to, using both hands to hold it still.

Padfoot shook his head and cuddled closer to Harry in reply.

“What do you mean change? He's been transfigured, and I don't know the spell to change him back.” Harry asked, still holding onto Padfoot tightly.

“He's not transfigured, Harry, he's an animagus. A damn good one, unfortunately. I probably couldn’t force him back against his will. Sirius and Padfoot are a complete whole, there's no distance between the two in his mind or soul. Change back now, Sirius. We need to… talk .” Lupin demanded again, yet Padfoot shook his head again, then hid against Harry's chest.

“If you want to talk, then we can use our journals.” Harry offered, unwilling to make Padfoot do something he didn't want to.

Padfoot nodded and went into the house, and Harry gestured for Remus to follow him.

Inside the house was a small pile of wrappers torn open that Padfoot had eaten, which made Harry happy, and next to it was Padfoot's journal and the quill next to it.

Harry sat down on the floor, and pulled his own journal out from his bag. “Twin Journals. So I can talk to him while he’s in here and I’m away. So he doesn’t feel lonely…So I don’t feel lonely.” He admitted, unwilling to lie about it when Padfoot was right there.

“How does he write though?” Remus asked, his wand still held in front of him as if he expected Padfoot to flank him and take him down with a blindside.

“Oh, he’s actually incredibly good with his paws. But I got him…I think Tom called it a ‘Mind Quill’ writes what he wants it to without having to hold it.”

He opened his journal.

moony here? Sorry got you trouble Harry.

Harry shook his head, “It’s not your fault, Padfoot. I should have been more careful. I will be from now on.”

Good. worry about u. what u mean by dementors?

“Why does he spell like that?” Remus asked, looking at the text that was appearing in the journal in front of them.

“I think it’s because he’s a dog. It’s harder to think like a human when you’re an animal, or at least that’s what I think. Or he's just really rusty at spelling. I don't think he had much opportunity to write where he was… And I’m fine, Padfoot. They have Dementors out looking for you, apparently.”

Padfoot whimpered and shrunk himself smaller.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let them get you, Padfoot, I promise.” Harry said, reaching out and touching Padfoot’s paw, who calmed down slightly.

dementors bad. make you remember bad things. sad things.

Harry felt miserable knowing that. And if Professor Lupin’s comment about them being the guards of Azkaban, then they probably fed on Sirius like they had tried with Harry. Often. The thought of Sirius alone in Azkaban as those monsters fed on him made Harry’s heart break. He would not let him go back.

Never.

He leaned over and hugged Padfoot again, and snuggled into the crook of his neck.

happy when with Harry. u make sad go away. not scared. safe. love u.

Harry glanced at the page and felt like crying and hugged Padfoot tighter.

“I love you too, Padfoot.”

so sorry moony. its my fault they died. but wasnt me. promise.

Padfoot wasn’t looking at Remus, instead hiding in Harry’s neck.

“Sirius, how can I trust you? You were the Secret-Keeper…”

NO. was not. changed last minute. PETER.

“Peter’s dead, Sirius, you killed him.”

No. no not dead. RAT!

Harry didn’t understand what they were saying as he read the page while still holding Padfoot. The Mind Quill was racing across the page writing they same word over and over again in increasingly manic scrawl until it was the written equivalent of shouting.

TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR

Padfoot was growling viciously now, and Harry held on tighter. He could feel all of Padfoot’s muscles tense up like he was about to attack and could feel his teeth bared behind him as he snapped a few times. 

He didn’t like seeing Padfoot get like this.

“Sirius, calm down. You’re scaring, Harry!”

Instantly the tension in Padfoot’s body broke, like a rubber band stretched too far, and he sagged against Harry.

not scare Harry. never mean scare Harry. Harry good. more than deserve.  but love him. protect Harry at all costs. be good for Harry. he save me. 

Padfoot wrapped himself around Harry, and all Harry could think was that he was trying to protect Harry from the entire world and Harry cuddled closer into him, wishing he could just stay here like this forever.

wasnt me. would never. would never. was peter. my fault. all my fault. prongs dead because me. was me suggested wormtail be secret keeper. thought safer. thought safer. was wrong. then all alone. so cold. so scared. so much pain. heartbreak. so long. So lonely.

Padfoot was whimpering again and crying out as if he was being hurt as he wrapped around Harry, and Harry could barely see the page anymore as Padfoot was trying to protect him.

“You need to stop this, Professor Lupin. He’s clearly upset! Please stop.” He begged, his fingers rapidly running through Padfoot’s fur as he tried to calm him down.

“Harry, Sirius Black was the reason your parents were killed. He gave up their location to Voldemort, Harry!”

wasnt me! Moony! would never! never betray prongs! Never! prongs brother!

“How can I trust you, Sirius? If you didn’t kill Peter, and Peter’s the traitor, where is he?”

in castle. Pet rat. Weasley. KILL.

“Scabbers?” Harry asked, instantly aware of what Padfoot was implying through his text.

Padfoot nodded against Harry’s neck, nuzzling against him.

Harry smart. so proud.

Harry smiled softly and returned the gesture.

“What are you saying about Scabbers though?”

animagus like me. like prongs. RAT

“That is possible.” Remus said, clearly considering what Padfoot was saying which meant Remus was quickly starting to believe Padfoot, even if he didn’t want to, “But you killed 12 muggles, Sirius, and all that was left of Peter was his finger.”

had wand behind back. HE cursed. he transformed. hid in sewers. how long pet for weasley?

Harry thought about what Ron had mentioned about Scabbers once, “Twelve years or so. He was his brother Percy’s before he was Ron’s. Found him in the garden, I think he said.”

Remus swallowed heavily, lowering his wand with a tremble, “Is he missing a toe, Harry?”

Harry thought about it, “I think so? I don’t really pay much attention to Scabbers…”

“Sirius… if you’re telling the truth– and I don’t fully believe you yet– then you really are innocent. If so, then why didn’t you tell me about changing Secret-Keepers? I could have defended you! I could have protected you!”

Padfoot whimpered and whined. 

thought u were the spy. prongs and lily did too. thought the packs gave u more than we could. FAMILY. Wormtail convince us u traitor. make us doubt. thought we could trust wormtail. was SO WRONG. betrayed u. I am so sorry, Moony.

“Sirius…I'm so sorry.” Remus said, his voice breaking as Harry noticed his knees grow weak and he dropped down next to Padfoot, his wand clattered as it rolled away.

Padfoot pulled back from Harry and licked his face a few times before glancing over at Lupin, and Harry knew he was asking if it was okay if he went over to him.

He nodded, and hugged him tightly once before pulling back.

As soon as he did Padfoot was launching himself at Lupin, barking happily while licking his face and Lupin was hugging him, crying as he was laughing.

Harry was suddenly hit by an intense feeling of unhappiness at the sight mixed with happiness for Padfoot. It felt bitter and toxic, like a sludge in his heart, but he couldn’t stop the joy at seeing Padfoot have his friend back, of seeing Professor Lupin believe him and know he’d not turn him in. But that sticky bitterness made him clench his hands at his side at the thought of someone else getting to be as intimate with Padfoot as Harry believed only he could be. He stayed still as he battled through the complex emotion he didn’t have a name for yet..

It’s jealousy, Harry. Covetousness. Envy. You're envious of Remus Lupin. You wish you were him! How delightful!

Harry tried to protest it, but he knew Tom was right. Even if he was one of the smuggest assholes Harry knew.

It wasn’t like the normal jealousy and envy he had felt growing up, like seeing Dudley get toys he had wanted. This was something deeper and far more complicated, like a churning inside his chest, causing happiness and resent to mix together as they warred inside his heart.

It made him feel so horrible. He didn’t want to feel this. He should have been happy for Padfoot right now, not steeping in jealousy as he watched them.

You grew used to being the only one who knew about Padfoot and acted that way with him, and now he has someone else and you're scared he won't need you anymore. But you're happy he has someone else on his side, so you're conflicted. Plus you find both of them attractive, which is confusing you greatly.

Harry didn't even reply, instead just continued to watch them.

It was nice to see Padfoot so excited, and Harry couldn't help but feel that Remus suddenly looked at least a decade younger when he was smiling as if some of his age faded and he looked happy.

“Sirius, why don't you change back and we can discuss this normally?”

Padfoot pulled back and shook his head.

“Why not?”

“He doesn't like to think of himself as Sirius.” Harry said, speaking up from where he stood, hands in his pockets, “Makes him sad.”

Remus looked down at Padfoot and frowned, “Is that true?”

Padfoot slowly nodded, looking away and walked back to Harry, who instantly wrapped his arms around Padfoot’s neck again. 

Hugging Padfoot, face pressed into the soft fur around his neck made Harry feel good.

Really good.

“Well, I guess you should explain to me how you got this trunk, Harry. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how illegal this is.”

Harry smiled, trying not to let his negativity shine through, shrugging slightly. At least he didn't have to worry about Remus telling anyone about it.

“Actually, I had it custom made in Knockturn yesterday. I still haven't actually had a chance to finish exploring it myself.”

“You said you paid 400 Galleons for it?”

Harry nodded, burying his face into Padfoot's fur and breathing his scent in, trying to either dispel the jealousy, or soak Padfoot’s scent into him and tell himself that Padfoot was all his. Regardless, it was helping him not feel so miserable. “That reminds me. We need furniture. I bought a book from Flourish and Blotts about conjuring furniture and Household items…but I'm barely good at third year Transfiguration, and according to Hermione, conjuring is sixth year.”

There's the Come-And-Go Room.

Harry didn't know what that was.

It's a special place. Very few people know about it. I do because I explored Hogwarts more than anyone.

Harry rolled his eyes at Tom, even though it was futile.

When you get a chance head to the seventh floor corridor across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. I'll explain more when you're there. You and the Professor should probably head back to the Feast. You'll probably be missed.

“Oh, that's right! Professor, should we head back to the Great Hall?”

Remus looked embarrassed, clearing his throat as he adjusted his robes and tie, “Oh yes. I forgot about that entirely. Uh, Harry, would it be okay if I come here to see Padfoot more often?”

Harry restrained his jealousy and nodded, “Ask Padfoot. This is just as much his new home as it is my trunk.” Harry said. If Padfoot wanted him around, then Harry would accept that, even if it made him burn with jealousy.

You're far too selfless for your own good.

Harry ignored that. He didn't dislike Lupin, in fact Lupin seemed like a really nice man, but he was worried that with an old friend around, Padfoot wouldn't want to be around him as much.

Maybe Padfoot understood what he was feeling because he seemed to snuggle closer to Harry before he butted his head against Harry’s shoulder, seemingly telling him that he needed to go.

When Harry reluctantly pulled away Padfoot poked his journal.

Don't worry Harry. Still love u. You'll like Moony. He brilliant.

Harry smiled, and it made a large portion of his jealousy dissipate like smoke, “Thanks, Padfoot. I love you too. You're the best.” He leaned in and ventured to press a soft kiss into Padfoot’s fur and blushed. “If you're good, you can wander around with the invisibility cloak, okay?”

Padfoot turned and tilted his head at Harry but grinned and licked Harry's face repeatedly.

Thank u. Now get going. Save me food. U and Moony!

Harry smiled as he read the journal and then closed it as he stood up and ran his fingers through Padfoot’s fur one last time before he joined Lupin at the front door. “Stay safe, Padfoot!”

Padfoot barked cheerfully, and even with his jealousy, Harry knew that this was for the best, showing him to Professor Lupin.

As they exited the trunk, and Harry locked it with a thought and changed it back to the normal trunk interior, Harry realized something.

“Professor, why does Padfoot call you ‘Moony’? And did he mean my father when he kept saying ‘Prongs’?”

Lupin smiled sadly, “I had a feeling you were smart enough to pick up on that. Me, Sirius, your father, and Peter Pettigrew were all friends at Hogwarts. Same year, all Gryffindors, and all mischief makers. All bound by one secret. My secret. Harry, can I trust you not to tell a soul about what I'm going to tell you?”

Harry nodded, “Of course, Professor. I won't even tell Hermione. I can make a Vow if you'd like.”

Remus shook his head, “That won't be necessary, Harry I trust you.” He took a deep breath and Harry could already tell whatever he was going to say was something that weighed on Lupin heavily. “That secret was that I'm a werewolf.”

Harry blinked, “Like Dracula Meets the Wolfman, werewolf? Is that a bad thing?”

Remus stopped walking for a moment in surprise and then started laughing for a few moments, and he resumed walking, “I forget you weren't raised a wizard, Harry. You have no idea about Lycanthropy, do you? Well, I guess you wouldn't. We'd be covering that in the third term’s nocturnal creatures unit. Well, werewolves are dark creatures, cursed by the bite of another werewolf. When the full moon rises, I transform into a wolf and become a violent monster. I wouldn't be able to even tell my friends from my prey, I would kill my own lover without hesitation when transformed and not realize it until morning.”

“That sounds horrible, Professor! Is there anything you can do to break the curse?”

Remus shook his head sadly, “No, Harry, there isn't. The only thing that can help is a potion; wolfsbane potion. I have to take it every day for the week before the full moon. If I miss a single dose, then it's all gone to waste.”

Frowning, Harry tried to imagine what that would be like, but found he couldn't, and that made him feel worse. “Does the wolfsbane stop you from transforming?”

“Unfortunately, no. It just makes it so that I retain my mind while transformed. I can sleep in my office as a wolf, instead of having to be locked up for my own safety. Without it, well…see these scars?”

Harry had noticed them right away, the silver scars that marred his face.

“These are just the most visible. These weren't done to me, I did them to myself. When I'm transformed it hurts so horribly that it drives me insane with anger and aggression and since I won't hunt, I hurt myself. Wolfsbane prevents that…But there is another way, something almost completely unknown.”

Harry took a step closer.

“A werewolf only goes into a rage around humans . And when an animagus is in animal form, a werewolf doesn't view them as prey. In fact, they're almost as good as the wolfsbane. I'm still not completely myself, but I'm not angry as normal when I’m the wolf. So my friends; we called ourselves the ‘Marauders’- learned to become animagi together to help me. So I wouldn't be alone on the full moons. That's when we took on our nicknames. I was Moony. For reasons I'm sure you can understand. Sirius was Padfoot, because he was quick and quiet– which was a massive change from how he was as a teen, let me tell you Harry.” Remus laughed, eyes distant in memory before he was looking at Harry again, “Prongs was your father; James, who became a regal stag, and stags have pronged antlers. And finally Peter Pettigrew. He was always more Sirius and James's sycophant than anything. He was the weakest of us, Harry, and we pitied him, eventually we grew to call him family, but evidently we were mistaken to do so; he was Wormtail because his rat tail looked like a worm. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. The Marauders. That's the story of why I'm called Moony. They called me Moony, but really they considered the werewolf version of me as ‘Moony.’”

Harry blushed slightly, wondering what Remus looked like as Moony. Was he as beautiful as Padfoot? Would Remus let him see him like that? Harry wondered if he could touch him as Moony if he was on the Wolfsbane. “Thank you for sharing it with me, Professor. I promise I'll keep it our secret. I can talk about it with Padfoot, right?”

“Of course, Harry!”

“Will you let Padfoot spend the full moon with you?”

Remus shrugged and Harry could see he didn’t intend too, “He doesn't need to help me anymore. The wolfsbane makes it so I can just sleep off the pain…”

“But would having him there make you feel better?”

Remus looked bashful but sad, “It would make me not as lonely. I've been alone every full moon for the last twelve years. It's not been easy.”

“I thought the wolfsbane made it easier?”

“It's very difficult to make and the ingredients alone are expensive. Dumbledore had promised me a supply every month in addition to my pay. This is the best job I've had in years.”

“Forgive me for being rude, Professor, but if you're qualified to teach Defense, then why are you struggling with money? I can see that your robes and case need repair, and it wouldn’t cost too much to get new ones.”

Remus pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and sighed, “Werewolves aren't exactly considered…employable.”

“But you're only a danger for the full moon!”

“We tend to get weak and sick before the full moon, and recovering from the transformation can take days. So add that to the fear and hatred of werewolves, and you'll find that not many places will hire one.”

“But that's horrible!”

Remus looked conflicted, “Harry, their fears aren't entirely baseless. We do become mindless monsters incapable of human empathy during the full moon. All it takes is a single bite during that time and if you survive you're already one yourself. And many of my kind that most wizards see; they revel in the destruction and misery they cause, purposely infecting people to ruin their lives. Sometimes to ruin the lives of the people close to them. Often as revenge.”

Harry could tell he was talking from experience. “Still, it's not fair! It's not like you asked for it, it's not your fault!”

Remus smiled sadly, “Thank you for being so understanding, Harry. Unfortunately you can't force people to change their minds. The best I can do is try to live as an example and prove that not all werewolves are the same. Complaining about what’s fair versus unfair does nothing to actually help my life besides make me bitter.”

“Okay, then you'll transform in my house then. So you and Padfoot can play in the field together.”

“Harry, it's alright-”

“I've already made my decision. Besides I know Padfoot would like it and is probably already planning on it.”

“He probably is, you're right about that.” He smiled warmly and laughed, making Harry flushed. He liked making Remus laugh, it made him look more handsome and sent a thrill through Harry's nerves that he caused that.

He noticed Remus’s nostrils flare and could see him sniff.

Remus looked a bit guilty when he spoke again, “Forgive me, Harry, for using your Vow like this…but are you gay?”

Harry tensed, “What?”

Remus looked a bit uncomfortable, “I don't have anything against it, you just sometimes smell like arousal when you're with me. My nose can pick that up, thanks to my condition. I just wanted to know if you're open about it.”

Harry was mortified, that meant he was able to smell it every time in the coach, whenever they'd touch. Oh god, that’s why he would sniff every so often and smile at Harry. He had to answer though, though his mouth suddenly went dry, “Yes. But I've only really realized recently. Only Hermione, my cousin, Padfoot, and you, know.”

Remus nodded, “I am as well. Gay.”

Harry looked up at him, confused. “You…are?”

Remus smiled at him, and Harry felt a little comforted by the sincerity of it. “Yes. I realized around your age as well. And being a werewolf on top of that was miserable. So I promise I understand. I know it must be hard for you to accept, growing up as a Muggle. I've learned that Muggles can be very cruel about that sort of thing. Wizards tend to not care too much. Most wizards are of a “live and leave me alone” kind of mind when it comes to sexuality, and what two men do together is none of their concern. Usually.”

“Hermione was telling me that it's not as big of a deal for wizards.”

“She's correct. Wizards may have their own prejudices, but sexuality is not among them. Now I'm going to ask a more…sensitive question. Do you mind if I ask?”

Harry swallowed, “I guess not. I can't think of much else you could ask more embarrassing than that.”

“Are you attracted to Padfoot?”

Harry clenched his teeth, of course he went right for the most embarrassing one. It made sense that if Remus was able to smell his arousal towards him, then those thoughts he liked to pretend he didn't have towards Padfoot would have probably been easy to smell as well. He tried to lie, and the second he decided to he felt his magic begin to turn on him and begin to harm him so he knew he had to tell the truth. “Yes.” He forced out, hands tight at his sight as he was forced to admit something so wrong .

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “I won't judge you, Harry. I've thought about it before myself.”

Harry stared at him, eyes wide. “Excuse me, Professor?”

Remus swallowed, but turned and grinned at Harry, “He does like belly rubs, doesn't he? Gets very excited.”

Harry knew exactly what he meant and turned nearly as red as his Gryffindor tie, but nodded.

Remus laughed, “Well, if you ever need advice or need an ear to listen to you, or want to ask questions about anything, my door is always open, Harry.”

“Does that make you my uncle or something? You were friends with my father, and you're offering me advice and support. That's what people have always told me uncles are supposed to act like. Right?”

Remus smiled, his eyes wrinkling slightly, “If that's how you want to view me, then I'd be honored.”

Harry looked forward as they walked, smiling contentedly. He would like to view Professor Lupin like that, actually. Didn't help his odd attraction to him, and probably made it weirder in fact, but he'd have a good uncle for once. Someone he could genuinely talk to and would understand him.

The thought put a pep in Harry's step as they made their way to the Great Hall.

It was odd that as soon as he wasn’t watching them play together that Harry’s jealousy towards Lupin was gone so quickly.

Remus opened the door where the Professor's came from and caught Albus's eye gesturing to Harry next to him, who nodded.

“Okay, hurry in. I'll just say that I was making sure you were okay after the Dementor attack. Don't worry. I won't say anything about our friend.”

Harry nodded, “Thank you, Professor. I'll see you again later.”

“Be good.” Remus’s grin made Harry feel special and he smiled back.

“I'll try.”

Remus ruffled Harry’s hair slightly, and Harry walked in, ignoring the looks as he made his way towards Hermione who moved over slightly to give him a spot.

“Is everything alright, Harry? You and Professor Lupin were gone a long while.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, he was just making sure I was okay after the Dementor.”

“Wouldn't Madam Pomfrey be the better choice?”

“Professor Lupin wanted to make sure personally that I was okay.”

“Well, you missed the Sorting. At least you didn’t miss the Choir perform. I heard that they prepared for a while for this.”

Hermione seemed to leave it at that and nodded.

Harry nodded and turned to watch the students who were part of the Choir quickly head towards the front with Professor Flitwick. He noticed Luna amongst them, taking her place off to the side.

When they started singing Harry was very much impressed by their skill. They always put on a good performance, and now that Harry knew someone in the Choir he made sure to pay more attention to it.

When they were done singing, they all bowed and quickly returned to their seats before turning back to Professor Dumbledore.

“What a lovely performance by our very own Choir! Marvelous!” Dumbledore said, smiling at Flitwick and then back at the students, “Well, students, welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I'm sure you've all been eagerly awaiting the start to yet another wonderful school year.”

Harry was sure he heard someone sarcastically mutter something about how last year was wonderful alright, and he had to agree.

“There are some matters of grave importance I wish to discuss with you all before you become enamored with all the delicious foods of our Feast. As you are no doubt aware, Hogwarts will be host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban. They are here on business from the Ministry of Magic.”

It was clear that Dumbledore was not happy about this, even with his even tone and forced smile.

“They are stationed at every entrance and exit to and from the school. And I must implore each and every one of you to understand you are not to leave the grounds without permission. They will not be swayed by pleading, or begging by anyone they catch, and they will not be fooled by tricks, disguises, or even invisibility cloaks.”

Harry could feel Dumbledore's stare on Hary for a few moments and knew that was for him.

“I must impress upon you all to not give them any reason for them to harm you or view you as a target. The effects of a dementor targeting you can quickly become disastrous. I am looking towards our Head Boys and Girls, and our Prefects to ensure that none of our students run afoul of the dark creatures.”

Running afoul of them seemed inevitable, Harry believed. Though it seemed like they had it in for Harry specifically.

Dumbledore’s expression changed, “On a positive note, we have two teachers to introduce. The first, having taken on the illustrious position of Defense Against The Dark Arts professor; Remus Lupin.”

Remus stood and bowed slightly, and Harry immediately decided he was going to buy Remus new clothes, whether he wanted Harry to or not, especially since he looked rather shabby compared to the other teachers in their best robes and Harry didn’t like that one bit. Remus deserved to be looked at more than all the others combined and feel handsome and confident and Harry knew new clothes would do the trick! It was something he could give to him!

Harry clapped cheerfully for him, and stood to give him a loud cheer, louder than anyone else, which made Remus smile bashfully. 

He noticed Snape glaring at Remus. It wasn't his normal glaring, it was intense, almost vitriolic. Like he wanted to murder Lupin. Harry recognized it as one he often wore when looking at Harry.

Probably has some sort of personal vendetta against him. Keep an eye on your new favorite Professor, Harry, more so than just ogling him in class.

Harry planned on it, and ignored the attempt to get a rise out of him.

“Hermione, look at Snape.” He whispered, leaning towards her.

“Seems like he's angry he didn't get the position again.” She offered.

Harry shook his head, “Seems more personal than that. I don't like it.”

“Harry, you don't like anything that Snape does.”

“That's because he's always up to something!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and turned back to Professor Dumbledore.

“We're also sad to announce that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures Professor, has decided to retire so he can spend time with his few remaining limbs. We're proud, however, to announce that his position has been filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.”

Harry was clapping cheerfully. Hagrid deserved to get a job teaching the subject, though considering Hagrid's love of dangerous and frankly gross creatures, Harry was a tad worried that the class might get…intense.

Soon enough the applause died down and Dumbledore looked pleased. “Well, since there's nothing else of note, let the Feast begin.” He clapped his hands and food appeared on the table and everyone began digging in.

He wished he had some way of saving some for Padfoot.

I have a way but it's inside your trunk. Until then we can just keep it in your robes. If you let me commandeer your magic for this then I can easily do it.

Harry wasn't sure that letting Tom Riddle have access to his magic was a good idea…

You already gave me access earlier for the Vow. Besides I can't use it for anything that you don't give me permission for, or to protect your life. Believe me, I've tried.

Harry weighed the possible side effects of this decision, but realized he wasn't Hermione and it really came down to the fact that this was for Padfoot and thus the pros vastly outweighed the cons.

Good. Now just slide some food into your robe when no one's paying attention and I'll handle it.

Harry shrugged and did as he was told, slipping a piece of meat into his robe sleeve quickly and suddenly it was gone.

He didn't know where it went or what spell Tom was using but as long as it made it so he could smuggle food to Padfoot then Harry was glad. He couldn't be too obvious about it and was in fact eating his fill as well. About halfway through the Feast Seamus and Dean came over.

“So, you and Ron are fighting?” Dean asked, while Seamus was practically leaning across the table.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Me and Ron are no longer friends, but I won't be starting anything, so don't worry about it.”

“But you and Ron have been friends since before the first day! What could have happened between you two?”

“What did Ron say? It doesn't matter. He shouted at me that I was a freak in the middle of Diagon Alley, and said he'd be so much better if he had never become my friend. So I told him to not worry about it anymore, that we aren't friends.” Harry explained.

“He said you were hung up about flying carpets or something.” Seamus admitted.

“It wasn't about the flying carpets!” He said, irritated before taking a deep breath and sighing, “I was asking him about why his dad helped ban them since they're classified as ‘muggle artefacts’ but so would brooms. I figured he'd have some insight to help me understand. He didn't. Regardless, I wish Ron happiness, because it's not going to be with me at his side as his friend.” Harry explained, spearing a piece of food and shoving it into his mouth.

“Perhaps it's best to just leave it be, Seamus, they'll be over it eventually.”

“But- fine.” They left and Harry continued eating and smuggling food a bit more angrily than before.

Apparently, everyone was taking the time now to talk to him, as Fred and George came over as well.

“So, Harry, we never did get to see your dog.” George grinned at him, his voice low enough that Hermione wouldn’t be able to hear him over the general clamor of the Feast.

“Did you send him back home?” Fred asked, leaning past George.

“Well, how would I have gotten him here?” Harry decided that like Hermione it was better to let the Twins come to their own conclusions rather than deny or confirm. He still was upset at himself for not being more cautious about talking to Padfoot at the Leaky Cauldron.

“That’s not an answer, Harry.” Fred replied.

“That’s a misdirection. We would know. We use them all the time ourselves.”

Harry shook his head, “A 13 year old boy wouldn’t be able to smuggle a dog into Hogwarts without anyone knowing, right? Surely, the castle’s defenses are more robust than that, wouldn’t you think?” Harry knew that it wasn’t actually that hard to smuggle someone into the castle with the right equipment, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Dumbledore would like to think that, wouldn’t he?”

“And I’m sure the Board of Governors and the parents would like to think that as well.”

“Well then, there’s your answer. How could a 13 year old boy, with average grades, be able to outsmart the defenses of some of the brightest and most powerful wizards in Britain?”

“The same way a 12 year old boy defeated a basilisk.”

“Or an 11 year old boy defeated his Dark Lord possessed teacher after going through an insane obstacle course.”

“Well, those boys sound like they relied on luck almost entirely and probably should have died otherwise.” Harry said, and it was, unironically,  the truth. He didn’t win those encounters because he was stronger, or smarter, or more skilled. He won through dumb luck and enough circumstances aligning perfectly to keep him alive.

Smuggling Padfoot into Hogwarts required money and a sudden change in personality to decide the laws of the Ministry weren’t his friend, and even then that required luck to stumble across Ludgar.

“Alright, fine, you can keep your secrets. We’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Or you’ll decide it’s better to include us in any of your…less than reputable ventures.”

“Besides, we are your favorite Weasleys after all.”

“If there comes a time when something like that were to happen, I would consider telling you two. But, on a different note, for your future shop, what kinds of products were you going to sell? And did you plan on it being a physical store, or a mail order business?” Harry decided that diverting the conversation from its current topic into one about them would probably distract them just enough to keep him out of their need to get into everything they found interesting. For a little time.

“Well, we eventually want a physical store, but being that we’re only 15-”

“That’s not feasible. So we’ll probably start with mail-order.”

“That’s good. You’ll reduce your operating expenditures beyond the cost of goods.” Harry was thinking about the business section of the economics book he had been reading on the train. The knowledge was surface level at most at this point, but he was also drawing upon the information Tom had to explain to him during the summer to help Vernon out with Grunnings. He was quickly starting to pick up the details, though he was sure it would take a few years at least to actually know what he was saying fully.

“Oh, look at who’s becoming a miniature businessman, Fred!”

“I’ve been reading a book on economics and money making.” Harry admitted.

“Well, perhaps you’ll be able to help us then. I don’t have the patience to learn about that kind of thing, and Fred most certainly doesn’t.” George commented, grinning widely.

“I somehow highly doubt that.” Harry glanced at the twins knowingly. He knew they were far better with finances than the rest of their family, hence how they were always able to afford the many pranks and gadgets they always had on them, while the rest of the Weasleys struggled to afford basic school supplies.

Maybe the Twins weren't as aligned with their family as they liked to make it seem. They were rather cruel to them when they wanted to be, and really had no qualms with harm coming their way. They never listened to anything their parents said, and even Harry could see that like Percy they weren't very proud of their father and didn't really get along with their mother. The only Weasleys he had heard they got along with were the older two that Harry hadn't met yet; Bill and Charlie, and he was beginning to wonder if that was just because they weren't around.

They both shrugged, “Maybe, but you are the one with the money, so perhaps it’s best you do start learning more about it. Especially considering the horrifying amount of Galleons you spent in one day yesterday.”

“Exactly how many do you think you spent throughout the entire day, Harry?”

Harry thought about it, “Well, there was the 450 in Knockturn. Then probably 50 for my aunt on goods, 25 for the custom robes. 5 for food. 10 for the rooms and dinner. 35 for the books. 20 to Hermione. 20 to you two. 15 for my dog stuff. 20 for Crookshanks and his stuff as a birthday present. Shoes were free. I can’t remember any other things I might have bought. So let’s see.” Harry tried to do the math in his head.

650.

At least Tom was good with numbers. “So 650 all together, give or take. I’d have to check my receipts, but they’re stored in my trunk so…”

“650 in one day.” Fred suddenly looked tired.

“I’ll never understand the thought processes of the rich, being able to drop that much in one day.”

“Well, if you take out the Knockturn things that’s only 200.”

“‘Only 200,’ he says!” George rolled his eyes. “Well, next time you’re thinking of dropping that amount of coin again, perhaps send some our way.”

“We could use it for our business!” Fred said, thinking about it and getting a grin on his face.

“I was actually thinking about that. I don’t know much yet, but I do know I can’t be spending that amount of my money often, even with my wealth. According to my book that’s not sustainable without an actual income source. So I need some way of bringing in money. I was thinking… Since you two wanted to start a business, and I need a way of making money, preferably passive income I think it’s called it, then how about I invest in you two?”

“Are you serious? I was just joking.” Fred said, as George was staring at Harry.

“I’d give you money to help start your business, and in return I get a cut of the profits once you start making them.”

“That sounds brilliant, Harry!”

“How much can you give us?”

Harry grimaced, “I’m not quite sure. I’d have to owl Gringotts and ask for a tally of my vault. I can send it out tomorrow.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be as much as you spent yesterday, but even 100 Galleons would be incredible. We’ve been working on a few recipes for some goods, and that would cover all the ingredients we need in order to finalize them as well as produce a massive inventory to sell!”

“What kinds of things are you working on?” Harry asked, slipping another piece of food into his robe before bringing a bite of his meal to his lips.

“Mostly stuff for students, since that’s how we’ll probably be making out money at first while we’re in school.” George said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a piece of parchment.

“We have one product in the works. Well technically a whole bunch, but they’d be one product.” Fred said, leaning in. Suddenly they weren’t the pranksters they normally were. They were smiling still, Harry noticed, but they suddenly had that greedy, predatory gleam in their eyes that Harry had come to associate with a shopkeeper discussing business, which ironically comforted him. He was beginning to get business, and seeing that meant that Harry knew what language they were thinking in, and it was one he was quickly teaching himself– Capital.

“We’re not sure what we’d call it yet, but we’re rather good at distilling spells and potions into foods. So we figured candies that make you sick.”

“What good would that do?” Harry felt like that was something that he’d rather avoid.

“That’s what you think. But see it this way. You eat a piece of our candy, and you get sick enough that they need to send you to Madam Pomfrey, but once you’re out of class, you simply eat the other side of the candy and you’re better again. Now you have a whole period to yourself!”

“Have you made any yet?”

They both looked a bit disappointed, “Well, yes, but they haven’t quite worked out right yet. We don’t have enough people testing them.”

“I’ll give you a few Galleons then. When you get a chance when you go to Hogsmeade, you can see if you can exchange them for Sickles. Pay first and second years a sickle to test one for you, and take notes. That should help right?” Harry offered.

“It most certainly would. Here.” George handed Harry the parchment. It was a roughly drawn sort of “menu” of what they were working on.

“What’s this section?” Harry pointed to a section separated from the rest which seemed like normal prank items. The items on that section all seemed to be beauty products and makeup.

“Oh yeah, we figured that we wanted the girls’ money as well, and making a bunch of girly products wouldn’t be that hard, so we’d be able to get money from both sides.”

Harry nodded, “Good plan. I’d also make some aimed at boys without the pranking angle. A lot of the Syltherin boys and the older boys care about their looks, and they have more money. But having products to lure the girls in is a good idea. They tend to have more money to spend because they’re not wasting it in sweet shops or on toys, plus they tend to shop in groups.” Harry offered.

“Our thoughts exactly, Harry.” Fred said.

“What’s this one in particular?” He pointed to an item in that girl section called “Twilight Moonbeams.”

“Oh yeah! Our love potion!”

“You’re going to sell love potions?”

“Nothing like Amortentia, obviously!”

“We’re not that talented.”

“Twilight Moonbeams works for, at most, twenty-four hours, depending on the weight and attractiveness of the person using it. We were thinking of creating a range of them in terms of potency.”

“Or perhaps in what type of desire they would inspire. But we’re not entirely confident in our skill at brewing them.”

“Are love potions regulated or anything?”

Fred and George looked at each other, confused, “Why would they be?”

“Well, I mean they’re basically a form of mind control, right? Making someone fall in love with someone against their will? Wouldn’t that be considered immoral?”

They both shrugged, “No love potion can make someone really love someone, it just makes them obsessed at best, or more inclined to be infatuated with them.” George said.

“Yeah, considering we’re not Potion Masters, ours would probably be infatuation at best for twenty-four hours.”

“Besides, who cares about morals? We want money.”

“Exactly! Though it might be a good idea to sell a counter love potion for boys who want to avoid it.”

“Oh, and at varying levels of efficiency to match the love potions! That way girls would be more likely to buy the more potent ones!”

“Perfect!”

“Thanks, Harry!”

Harry shrugged, “Any time, I guess. But yeah, I’ll get the Galleons for you tonight in the common room, and I’ll write to Gringotts tomorrow about my balance to see how much I’m comfortable investing in you two.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Harry!”

“Best brother for sure!”

And the Twins were off once more, leaving Harry to his food.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked, leaning in now that they were gone.

“Oh, I’m going to invest in the Twins’ shop. I need to make more money, so I’ve been reading one of those books I bought at Flourish and Blotts about economics and business, the one I was asking questions about on the Express. Apparently passive income is the best way of accumulating wealth.”

“Yes, that makes sense. Passive income is the most efficient method of wealth gain, and investing is a good choice. Look at you, Harry! I told you learning was fun, didn’t I?” Hermione looked positively ecstatic at his newfound interest in “studying.”

Harry shrugged, before an idea hit him. “Hermione, you’re a girl.”

She suddenly looked confused, before she became annoyed, “Yes, I have been told that before.”

“And you know what girls like, right?”

“For the most part, yes.” She didn't seem very happy with her answer which seemed odd to Harry.

“The Twins wanted to add products for girls to their shop as well, beyond just pranks and toys. They only have stuff like love potions and beauty creams, perhaps you could get some ideas of what kinds of things girls would like to buy so I can give them to the Twins? Maybe ask some of your girl friends?” Harry realized that perhaps asking an actual girl for advice on girl products was valuable for making products they would buy.

“I’ll see.” Hermione said, though she had a faint look of disdain for the idea.

“Thanks, Hermione! If I’m going to invest in them, I feel like I should really take it seriously, you know? And I don't know what girls like, but the book said diversifying was good for a business…”

That seemed to placate Hermione, who nodded and went back to eating her food, though Harry noticed that she did not seem to be happy with his request. Though he wasn't sure why, sometimes with Hermione he was never sure what was making her upset.

Though he was sure she felt the same way about him.

Soon he was onto his dessert and since no one was really paying attention to him he was able to shove a whole bunch of different desserts into his robes. He really hoped Tom was actually doing something with them and not just vanishing them.

I asked for your magic to save the food for Sirius, and that's rather all I can do with it.

Harry wondered what would happen if he gave Tom access to all his magic.

I'd probably be able to ruin your life if I wanted to. But your life is tied to my own so it's not in my best interest to do so. So don't offer it if you're not ready to become the next Dark Lord. Toss some of your drink down your collar. I can duplicate more later.

Harry really had a lot to learn about magic because some of the stuff Tom casually did seemed insane. Regardless he did as he was told, sure that if anyone was really paying attention they'd notice him shoving food and pouring liquids in his robe.

Eventually you'll learn spells like this yourself. The really powerful and useful ones.

Harry could feel the unspoken ‘but not at Hogwarts’ in the words.

Soon dinner was finished and Harry was full. And he noticed Remus give him a glance from across the Great Hall.

He had left his trunk in Lupin's classroom and wanted to go give his food to Padfoot, so he slipped out in the crowd as it was filing out and began to head towards the Defense classroom.

He slipped inside and waited by the door for Professor Lupin.

He'd come to this classroom many times, but being here at night was vastly different.

Did you know I applied for the position when I was freshly out of Hogwarts?

Harry had no idea why Tom would think he might know that fact, but Harry figured that's when he jinxed the classroom then.

Actually, yes. I figured if I can't have it, then no one could.

Harry felt that was incredibly petty, but definitely seemed in line for Voldemort.

Well, I was upset.

Two teachers had tried to kill him because of that jinx, and Harry was worried it might hurt Remus by the end of the year.

I would tell you how to counter-jinx it, but it's tied to Voldemort's life. As long as he lives, so does the jinx on the position. Theoretically you might be able to get around it by creating a new position with a different name for a different class, as the jinx is tied to the position itself. So as long as Voldemort lives, and someone teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts it will come into effect.

Harry wondered if there were any other ‘wonderful’ surprises Voldemort had that they had no knowledge of.

Actually…

Harry could immediately feel that whatever Tom was alluding to was probably going to be incredibly bad.

It's best we wait until we reveal myself to the fool before I burden you with that. It will be in the coming days though as I want to test something regarding it, sooner rather than later.

Harry felt like Tom's secrets were going to define his year. And not in a good way.

The door opened as he thought that and Professor Lupin walked in, already aware that Harry was there. 

“Can I go with you again to see Sirius?” He asked Harry, smiling happily at Harry while holding a platter of food.

“Of course, Professor. I'm sure he would like that a lot.”

Remus smiled at that, and Harry knew that he liked the sight of Remus smiling very much.

They went into his office and Remus locked the door magically behind them, and they went into the trunk, which was quickly becoming a new normal for Harry. 

Padfoot was waiting at the foot of the stairs and Harry knew he was waiting for the food. The sky was dark now and there were stars twinkling overhead. Harry quickly realized it was similar to the charm over the Great Hall, replicating the sky above the trunk. 

He could sit and stargaze with Padfoot here! Though he was still very much looking forward to stargazing on a flying carpet with him under a blanket. Maybe Professor Lupin would join them. Padfoot would be cuddling in his lap, and Harry laying against Remus's chest.

Well, Harry's fantasies were quickly getting out of hand. He was worried about who else he might find attractive. Though he noticed that while he could admit the Twins were attractive, he didn't seem to have any odd imaginings or feelings for them. Neither did any other men Harry had found were attractive.

He wondered why that was.

Harry felt bad for not being able to have Padfoot there at the Feast with him and simply wanted to give the food to him, but Remus told them both that Sirius would eat inside and would wait until then.

Judging by the way that Padfoot rolled his eyes, Harry was sure this wasn't the first time Remus had done this kind of thing.

When they made their way towards the house, small orbs of light emitting from the flowers along the pathway, and Harry realized exactly how picturesque this home really was. Ludgar did a truly amazing job on such short notice. Harry really would have to find some way to thank him for it.

When they reached the room that Harry had placed the food for Padfoot this morning (Had it really only been that long? Felt like ages.) Remus placed the platter on the ground. It had multiple cuts of meat on it, a few vegetables, and some deserts.

Padfoot started salivating at the sight, drool dripping from his mouth and Harry swallowed his saliva as his heart rate skyrocketed and he suddenly was producing more saliva than normal. The feeling was odd, like an intense nervousness combined with the feeling he had quickly come to realize was his own arousal.

Unlike the times he'd get hard due to hormones, Harry felt like his skin wasn't on right, like it was suddenly burning up and he start breaking it in a sweat, and it became hard to breathe properly, his lungs suddenly feeling like he couldn't get enough air in and leaving him breathless, like some void was forming inside his abdomen and chest and pushing everything else out of the way, replacing it with this intense feeling like a pressure and yet an empty ache for… something. He wasn't sure what.

He had felt the same way when he thought about wearing the collar he had bought Padfoot. Or the times he had glanced down when giving Padfoot a bath or a belly rub, or when he watched Padfoot walk in front of him as he jogged with him in the morning at Little Whinging and saw more than he should have been looking at.

Or the time that Remus had his hand on his forehead. Or the quick thoughts he had about Remus being dangerously strong when he was interrogating him.

Harry realized this was true arousal, not simply teenage hormones, but something more mental, something that seemed to rearrange his whole sense of self in ways he couldn't quite understand.

It wasn't something he could make go away by wanking as quickly as possible and just getting it done with, as he could with problems caused by teenage hormones.

The fact that what was currently arousing him was Padfoot drooling and looking at the food on the platter with such a starving look, like he was going to tear into it without hesitation, vicious and feral, made Harry suddenly very uncomfortable, and not because it was gross, but because he very much wished that hungry gaze was focused on him.

He tried not to move, as he didn't want to attract any attention to himself right now, to his abnormal arousal.

And as Padfoot tore into the food, Harry swallowed again, and tried to pretend that he couldn't notice Remus's nostrils flare and he breathed in and he glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. As long as Harry pretended to himself that everything was normal he could pretend to not be internally freaking out inside.

Soon the platter was cleared of food, and Padfoot was licking it clean and Harry almost had to look away.

Would you like me to return the food I put away for him? 

Harry would very much like something else to think of rather than being beaten down by his ever-evolving fantasies, so he agreed.

Hold out your wand at the platter.

Harry did so and he could feel that sort of foreign feeling of Tom accessing his magic again as the platter enlarged and suddenly food appeared on it.

He wished he knew this kind of magic already instead of having to rely on Tom to do it all, but the look on Padfoot's face when all the food appeared more than made up for it. A bowl also appeared and was filled with liquid.

Padfoot looked at Harry like he had just announced it was Christmas morning, eyes bright and sparkling, grinning widely, and he bounded up to Harry and stood, placing his front paws on Harry’s chest and licking his face, and even though it made him laugh, it also made the feeling inside of him grow in intensity, and he was sure that it was radiating out and so easy to read.

He liked the weight of Padfoot’s paws on his chest, and suddenly he let himself fall back as Padfoot had pushed him, landing on the floor with a thud, still smiling as Padfoot continued licking his face, and Harry liked the weight of Padfoot even more, letting him push down on his chest. He wondered how it would feel if he opened his mouth when Padfoot was licking his face. Would his tongue accidentally touch his tongue? What would it taste like? Feel like?

It was hard to keep laughing, even though it did tickle, because he suddenly had a harder time thinking , and Harry was startled when he felt Padfoot accidentally brush against his groin, where his problem was clearly apparent. 

Harry was hard.

In an instant, Padfoot pulled away, looking down and then back up at Harry with an odd look before looking at Remus and then backing off and hesitantly going back to the food, barking once, and then proceeding to eat it.

Harry felt suddenly like he had been cut off from breathing the way that intense feeling was suddenly taken away and he quickly stood up and tried to pretend that nothing had happened, readjusting his trousers while facing away from Remus.

Remus took a step closer to Harry and Harry shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He muttered firmly, staring dead ahead, refusing to acknowledge anything that had just happened, instead trying to find a small anchor back to the real world in watching Padfoot eat the food Harry had smuggled for him.

It was something small that allowed him to feel like he could just pretend that he hadn’t grown hard at the thought of his dog looking hungry and salivating, and then pinning him down and licking him, or the fact that he let that happen in front of his teacher.

It didn’t matter that Remus had said he understood. It didn’t matter that Padfoot was actually a man, just in dog form, all that mattered to Harry was the sudden realization that he was not normal.

Being gay he could understand. Being attracted to his teacher made sense.

But the things he was craving were not normal things, even for gay teens, he felt.

Normal boys didn’t lust after two men who were apparently his father’s best friends.

Normal boys didn’t get hard at the thought of having their teacher choke them.

Normal boys didn’t get off on being watched by their dog while they were undressing and getting redressed.

Nor when they gave them baths and belly rubs and felt tempted to go just a bit lower and to just touch it.

They didn't fantasize about being collared and leashed.

They didn’t get aroused by the feeling of the dog’s fur running along their skin.

They didn’t wonder if they could watch their teacher transform into a beast just to see if he was just as attractive as a canine as he was as a human, or as attractive as Padfoot was as a canine.

It wasn’t natural , and the thought hit Harry like a Depulso .

Was that why his life was miserable? Because he wasn’t normal?

Was that the price of his abnormality?

Did he cause all those bad things with his own sick desires?

Some sort of cosmic justice for his perverted deviancy.

Harry. You need to calm down.

Harry wasn’t listening though, instead he was standing as straight as a rod, refusing to do as much as budge.

Padfoot knew .

Remus knew .

They were trying to be nice, but they had to be judging him.

They had to think he was a freak.

He was a freak. He knew he had been attracted to Padfoot that first night. 

God, that was so wrong! 

He liked him watching him getting undressed, and had wanted Padfoot to sleep in his bed with him, even knowing that.

He had liked that Padfoot was probably a criminal, and liked that he was now.

He liked the idea of Padfoot taking advantage of him, or even Remus taking advantage of him.

He liked that Padfoot was always touching and licking him.

Padfoot could have done anything to him that first night, from the moment he had met him– and Harry had fantasies of all the things Padfoot could have done in his head that night and nearly every night since.

Harry, calm down. You’re working yourself into a fit.

Harry tried to listen now, tried to take a steady breath in, but it was shuddering. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he tried to calm himself down.

He was still steadfastly avoiding Remus’s gaze, and he could tell Padfoot was still watching him as he ate, occasionally stopping for a moment and clearly trying to see how Harry was reacting.

They were probably only pretending to be okay with it because they had to be, they didn’t have much choice. Harry had power over Padfoot, and he knew Remus’s secret.

That had to be why they were pretending to be okay with it all.

They were scared of him lashing out if they weren’t.

God, Harry was a monster; a horrible boy.

Maybe they’re not pretending.

Harry refused to accept that. Of course they would hate him for it. He hated himself for it.

“How’s the food?” Harry managed to get out, “I’m not sure if Tom’s magic would make it taste different or not.” He forced a smile on his face and closed his eyes so they couldn’t see the fear in them. Padfoot loved him. Harry couldn’t lose that, not to something as unnatural as what he felt.

They both had enhanced smell, he knew this, and he knew they could tell he wasn’t okay, but if he just pretended he was, maybe they would be kind enough not to judge him for it.

“It seems that Padfoot’s enjoying it, right Padfoot?” Remus said, his voice unnecessarily kind, and it made Harry hurt more.

He wanted to tell Remus to not lie to him, to shout at him and judge him and punish him for the sick and sinful things he was thinking. He needed the punishment because then he'd at least feel castigated.

Padfoot barked, and he wagged his tail, and Harry let himself feel good about that. He’d have to work harder on never letting himself react like he had before, because making Padfoot unhappy was the last thing he wanted. 

Padfoot didn’t deserve having a freak lusting after him unnaturally, so Harry would just be the boy who took care of him, and loved him unconditionally; none of the weirdness attached.

Padfoot came up and carefully bumped his head into Harry’s thigh, where his hand was in his pocket and Harry sighed and took it out and began to pet his head.

He could feel himself calm down slightly as Padfoot pressed more into Harry’s hand, and he wanted to believe that it was Padfoot telling him it was okay, even if Harry knew he thought Harry was a freak.

Petting Padfoot always helped calm him down and organize his thoughts. And now was no different.

“I'm sorry I can't just have you at the Great Hall. I'm sure that'd be a lot easier than you having to eat here, but I promise I'll keep getting you food every night.” Harry said, smiling at Padfoot. The smile was only partially forced.

Padfoot was wonderful to him. Too wonderful. More than Harry felt he deserved, if he was honest. 

Padfoot butted his head against Harry's side again and grinned up at him widely.

Harry smiled a little more authentically now.

“Ah, Sirius, Harry here has informed me that I'll be staying here during the full moon, with you. You don't mind, do you?” Remus spoke, causing Padfoot to look up at Harry with wide eyes and then begin to wag his tail more enthusiastically, and the sight made Harry happy.

He was quickly moving past jealousy for Remus into truly appreciating how happy he helped make Padfoot.

“Well, when Professor Lupin told me that being around you really helps him, how could I not offer a safe place for him? Plus I figured you'd want that as well.” Harry pet Padfoot’s head a bit more, trying not to focus on how good his fur felt running along his fingers, sending small jolts of pleasure down through him, which wasn’t helping but he couldn’t stop petting Padfoot..

Padfoot nodded vigorously, and licked Harry’s hand gently, nuzzling against it.

Harry’s heart melted a bit at the sight. Making Padfoot happy was all that mattered, not Harry’s perversions.

“Well, I couldn't have him be alone, could I? I wish I could join you two though…”

Remus looked hesitant, but before he could say anything Harry continued, “But I know it's probably not safe, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Professor. You trusted me with your secret and I want to respect it as much as I can.”

Remus looked grateful and Harry had to restrain his natural instinct to want to come anyways.

“I should probably get to bed. I'll leave the trunk here.”

Padfoot whined slightly and Harry felt bad hearing it.

Remus shook his head, “No, Harry, it's getting late and I have to finalize my lesson plans for tomorrow. I'll walk you back to your common room so no other teachers try to give you detention.”

Harry made a face, “Knowing my luck it would be Snape.”

Remus laughed, “Yes, from what I've heard that does sound probable.”

“That reminds me, Professor. Does Snape have something against you?”

Remus looked at Harry with a confused expression, “What do you mean?”

“Well, at the Feast ,Snape was glaring at you. Like how he glares at me; which is like he wants to kill you.”

“Oh. That. That is partially Sirius' fault.”

Padfoot rolled his eyes and made a dismissive growl.

“You almost killed him, Sirius. It took me a while to forgive you for it, but he just never has.”

Padfoot huffed and leaned more against Harry looking up at him with his “puppy” eyes, causing Harry to pet him.

“Don't play cute, Sirius. Harry will probably have to pay for it.” He turned to Harry, “When we were students we, the Marauders, weren't exactly the nicest people to Severus. He wasn't the nicest back, but Sirius and your father were rivals with Severus.”

Padfoot huffed again.

“I'm being generous on your behalf Sirius, you two were horrible to him. And yes, he was horrible back, but what you did could have killed him. I know you didn't mean it to but still he's never been able to believe that.” He turned back to Harry, “Snape seemed to figure out something was wrong with me. My friends only took a year, though we lived together, but Snape was starting to put the pieces together and one day Sirius, in his infinite stupidity, decided to tell Snape that the Whomping Willow had a knot that you could press that would make it calm that would help him figure out what I was hiding.”

Padfoot pressed himself against Harry and Harry realized for all his bluster, it was clear that Sirius regretted whatever he had done.

“You see, I was turned as a child and my father didn't believe that I would be allowed to attend Hogwarts due to being a health risk, but Albus found a way for me to attend. He planted the Whomping Willow over the only passage into the Shrieking Shack where I could transform and no one would be able to find me, and I wouldn't be able to get out.”

Hermione had mentioned that the Shrieking Shack was supposedly the most haunted structure in all Britain, had that just all been Lupin?

“The only way to get in is to press that knot on the Willow to calm it and sneak through the passage. And Sirius told that to Snape who came on the full moon while I was transformed. He came through enough to see me transformed and hear me. If it weren't for your father, who saved him, I would have killed him. I would have become a murderer and I would have probably been sent to Azkaban.”

Harry’s fingers tightened in Padfoot’s fur for a moment before he continued petting him, while Padfoot whined softly.

“To this day he thinks I was in on the joke that almost killed him, and he refuses to see reason.”

Padfoot growled.

“He's never forgiven Sirius for it, and he despised having to be saved by James. That's probably why he hates you, Harry. You're nearly the spitting image of your father at your age. For him he probably only sees James.”

“So he's taking his grudge out on me?” That was completely unfair!

Remus looked apologetic, “Most probably. Please try not to antagonize him, Harry. He's the one brewing my Wolfsbane, and I'd rather not chance him ‘accidentally’ messing up.”

Harry was horrified by the thought, subconsciously pulling Padfoot closer, “He would do that?!”

Remus shook his head, “I don't think so. It'd be rather easy to point it back to him, but it's complicated enough that he could attempt to say he just made a mistake. I think he has more professional class than to try and kill me when Dumbledore himself is watching so closely though.”

Harry calmed down slightly. “Is the wolfsbane really so hard to brew?”

Remus nodded, reaching up to run his hand through his graying hair, which Harry liked to watch, “I would make it myself, but I've never been very good with brewing. And the recipe is very difficult, and attempts to adjust it can be disastrous.”

“I wish I knew how to brew it…”

“Well, pay attention in Potions then, Harry.” Remus said, and suddenly he sounded very much like the teacher he now was, “I know Snape's not easy to get along with, believe me I do understand, but try to avoid antagonizing him. You're a smart kid from what I hear, if you just applied yourself I'm sure you could be one of the best students of your year, I know it.”

See?

“I don't think I'm that good.”

Remus raised an eyebrow and smiled, “You won't know until you try, Harry.”

Harry knew what Remus was saying was right. After all, he knew the reason he had never really applied himself was for lack of a reason . He relied on Hermione to handle all the studying, and on Ron for any knowledge of the Wizarding world that Harry missed out on being raised a muggle.

He had cut Ron out, and he couldn't really confide everything he was dealing with Hermione, not until he had some plans in place.

Though with Tom he was sure he could study on his own. Perhaps he could spend more time in the library?

Unless the old fool has removed them all, I know a fair amount of books in the Restricted Section that could make your studies easier.

Harry wasn't sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t leave books on Dark Magic lying around the library, even the Restricted Section, if he believed they were the same books that Voldemort would have learned from.

Not all of them were heavily Dark Magic, Harry. Many of them are filled with information that will make your life easier, as well as your fight against Voldemort.

Harry really wondered if it were possible for someone to turn against themselves so quickly as Tom Riddle was making it seem.

Harry. Everything I did was in the pursuit of avoiding death. I may have been a piece of Voldemort as the Diary, but now that the Diary is destroyed and the only thing keeping me alive is you , you can trust that I’m going to look out for myself. And that means ensuring you live a long and healthy life until the point I can figure out how to either make you immortal, or find a way to detach from you and have my own life, especially as it seems that I'm subservient to your ego. If you can’t trust me, then at least trust that I’m self-serving. If I were to help Voldemort kill you, I would most likely perish myself as my connection to him has been severed and reattached to you . If Voldemort dies and you live, then I still live. It’s simple arithmetic, Harry.

Harry still didn’t trust him, that was for sure. But at least he could get some education out of him. Things that the Professors at Hogwarts wouldn’t be willing to teach him. Couldn't teach him. Maybe some things that Voldemort himself only knew.

You’ll have to get notes to be able to go through the Restricted Section, but I’m sure you could get them from Professor Lupin. Most of it I remember but having the books will help you.

Harry tuned him out now, and noticed Remus was looking at him with a confused smile.

“Tom.” He explained.

Remus nodded, “What is it like with Tom Riddle in your head, Harry? He’s not trying to turn you into the next Dark Lord, is he?”

Harry shook his head, “No, in fact we were just discussing how to continue my studies so I could oppose Voldemort better.”

“Why would he oppose Voldemort if he is him?”

“He claims that because his existence is tied to me now, that killing Voldemort simply is the best course of action for him to stay alive.”

Remus nodded, deep in thought, “So, it’s purely self-preservation that he’s siding with you now.”

He gets it.

“Apparently. I still don’t completely trust him, but he claims he knows some books in the Restricted Sections that will make my training easier.”

“Well, I guess I could give you notes for it, but I’d rather see the books you're checking out before you start reading them, Harry.”

“That sounds good, Professor, I want to make sure he's not teaching me Dark Magic without me realizing. I think I’d rather wait for a bit first though, get used to school before I start taking on study projects.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best. We should get you back to Gryffindor, I’m sure your friends are wondering where you are. You’ll be good, right, Sirius?”

Padfoot huffed against Harry’s side, pressing into Harry’s hand happily.

“Good. Harry?” He gestured for Harry to join him as Padfoot pressed against him one last time before he separated and followed them to the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to leave, and honestly wanted to get a bed as soon as possible for the house so he could just sleep with Padfoot again. He didn’t know how he’d be able to go to sleep without the familiar warmth and weight of Padfoot draped over him.

Harry reached out and ran his hand over Padfoot’s fur one last time before he joined Remus going up the stairs.

When they exited the trunk, Harry locked it again.

“I'll have a house-elf send it to your room, Harry. Now follow me, I have some other things I'd like to discuss with you before we end up in Gryffindor Tower.”

Harry could hear the heaviness in the words and knew he wasn't going to like the fact that he was still bound by his Vow to tell him the full truth to his questions. Sunrise was still far off enough that if Remus wanted, he could extract every single one of Harry's secrets. Not that he had any important ones that he hadn't already dug out.

“I know you said you don't want to talk about it Harry, but I have to tell you, it's alright. What you're going through.” Remus started and Harry could tell he was struggling to come up with the right words to say.

“Professor.” Harry interrupted, “You can't tell me that what I'm feeling is normal.”

Remus grimaced, “Well, perhaps not normal, but-”

“Nor would it be well accepted if it got out, right?”

Remus grimaced again, “Well not exactly, but-”

“I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me, Professor, that there's not something wrong with me for thinking those kinds of things.”

“Well, Harry, I'm not a mind reader, all I can tell is that you're not just attracted to human men. Have you ever thought about it before with other…non-humans?”

Harry shuddered to even be discussing it out loud, but at least they were still in Remus’s office.

“No, not exactly. The only thing that's remotely comparable was when you told me you transform into a wolf, I wondered if you would be just as handsome as a wolf as you are as a human, or just as handsome as Padfoot was.” Harry clenched his teeth after admitting that. He could try to resist the truth, but something inside him was taking the opportunity to pour the truth out of him without hesitation, and Harry was starting to believe it might not just be the Vow.

He was starting to believe he wanted to pour his secrets out so they weren’t just burrowing deeper inside of him, so they were free and he could be judged as he felt he deserved to be.

Remus blinked a few times and Harry noticed him blushing and looked suddenly very bashful, and Harry couldn't help but feel a thrill at knowing he was capable of causing his Professor to blush, “You think I'm handsome?” 

“Yes. I noticed it as soon as I saw your face on the Express. You're more handsome when you smile or laugh.”

Remus suddenly looked very pleased with himself and began smiling smugly, which didn't help Harry's situation, in fact it made it worse. Lupin looking smug while smiling was even more attractive, Harry realized.

“Are you not afraid of me? At all?”

Harry shook his head, “Not particularly. I know you wouldn't try to kill me on purpose which is more than I can say for most people. Besides, and please don't take this the wrong way, Professor, I have enough nightmares, I don't think some hypothetical ‘you could harm me’ will even show up in them. And honestly, if you did show up in my dreams, I'd consider them good ones.”

Remus looked very happy to hear that, but almost like he couldn't believe it.

“You're not just saying that to make me feel better, right?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “I can't lie to you, remember? Not until sunrise.”

Remus’s mouth turned into an O and Harry realized he hadn't recalled that it lasted until sunrise.

“You're so much like Sirius you know.” Remus said, shaking his head but smiling softly to himself. He looked happily annoyed. “Both of you are stubborn fools who are far too kind to me. More than I deserve.”

Harry shook his head, “I'm sure I can speak for both of us when I say that you probably deserve more. Like new robes. I'll need your measurements though.” Harry said, “They do have a tailor here in Hogsmeade, right? I might not be able to go, but I can always send Hermione with the order and the money.” Harry said the last part more to himself.

Remus looked suddenly put out, “Harry, I'm not letting you buy me new robes. You've known me for only a day, and besides I don't need your pity.”

Harry couldn't help the snort he made, “Oh, this is all for me, Professor. I think you'd look far more handsome in fitting robes, especially ones that bring out your eyes. That way when I end up staring at you in class, which is going to be often, you're at your best. See, not at all pity, purely selfish on my part. Besides, buying people I like nice things makes me feel good. Again, completely self serving. I'm going to wait for the briefcase though because I want a nice piece. So I'm going to contact the same guy who made my trunk, I was going to owl him tomorrow anyways.”

Remus blinked at him, “Harry. I can't let you do that for me.”

“Professor, really, it's best to accept it because I'm going to do it regardless. I can ask a favor for it, since I can't go to Hogsmeade myself, if that would make it feel more like payment?”

Remus sighed and Harry knew he had him, “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to Tomes and Scrolls, into the secret adult section, and I want you to buy me wizarding magazines. I have a list.”

Remus didn't say anything for a few moments before he was laughing. It was quickly growing more intense as he was leaning on his desk, laughing heavily.

“You want me to buy you porn mags in exchange for new robes?”

Harry was blushing but stood his ground, “Well, since I wanted to use my invisibility cloak to sneak in, but can't go, consider this a great favor for me. You're the only person I can ask for them. I can't make Hermione do it, she's too young, and it feels weird asking her.”

Remus wiped a few tears from his eyes as he took a deep breath, “Okay, fine. You and Sirius really are two of a kind. He used to get me nice things using the same techniques, especially when his Hogsmeade privileges were taken away due to his many detentions.”

Harry felt nice knowing that. It meant that he and Padfoot were alike, which was something he could be proud of.

“Okay, so this next weekend then, I'll give you the money so you can go buy the robes.” Harry liked that Remus was going to be wearing new robes. He preferably wished he was going to be buying them himself, that way Harry could pick his colors, but he was also interested in seeing what Remus would pick, when he realized it seemed like Remus was the type to try and get the cheapest things and say they were what he wanted. “Also, I'm going to give you a budget for the robes, I want them nice, okay? You should also buy some other things for yourself as well, nothing for Hogwarts, nothing that me or even Padfoot might like. Just things you want. That would make me happy. And I'm sure it would make Padfoot happy too. He'd probably be over the moon seeing you in nice new clothes; I know I would be. And again, if you feel like I'm pitying you, please don't. I really mean it, spending money on people makes me happy, I don't feel I have much else I can do for people, so this makes me feel good.”

Remus was blushing, looking quite embarrassed and hesitant about the idea. Apparently he was realizing that Harry was telling the truth, and was having a hard time taking it to heart, but couldn't deny that Harry was bound to tell the truth, so he meant what he was saying.

“Well, let's get to the common room, we can discuss this thing later.”

“Professor, there’s nothing to discuss, we’re getting you new robes.” Harry said as they walked out of the office, causing Remus to roll his eyes.

“We’ll talk about it later, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes as well, he already knew he had won the conversation. Plus he had avoided the worst of answering the first series of questions by getting Professor Lupin to ask a new question.

It was hard to accept Professor Lupin’s kindness about Harry’s perversity, but Harry was simply going to take the kind words even if he couldn’t believe them and hope that they all just pretended that no one knew and then everything would be normal.

The walk to the Gryffindor common room was filled mostly with Remus asking Harry questions about what kinds of things they had learned in their previous Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, to which Harry explained that they didn’t learn much. Quirrell was adequate at the job, but not very good, and Lockhart was horrendous.

“At least the bar is rather low in terms of Professors for your year.” Remus said with a chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, which while very nice to look at wasn’t what Harry wanted to see, there was a hint of self-depreciation to Remus’s words that Harry didn’t like.

“I have a feeling you’ll be an amazing Professor, Remus.” Harry said, blushing as this was the first time he had referred to him by his first name. He liked how quickly he went from a stranger to a confidante. He was sure others wouldn’t understand, but Padfoot was a good source of bonding.

Remus smirked and shook his head, “Thank you, Harry, but you haven’t even seen me as a teacher, your schoolboy crush shouldn’t color your perception of me as an instructor.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Then, after my first class with you I’ll let you know if you’re a good teacher or not, ‘schoolboy crush’ or not.”

“I guess that would be acceptable. And, in the future, while I don’t mind you calling me by my first name, remember to always call me Professor Lupin in front of others. I don’t want them thinking I’m giving you special privileges.”

Harry nodded, that was true. Remus suddenly cast a spell around the two of them that surrounded them like a blanket, making some of the sounds of the castle fade away into a comfortable silence.

“I mean, I most certainly am , but I don’t want others to be aware of that.” Remus smirked again and winked, but this time it was fully directed at Harry, and Harry blushed deeply, but didn’t look away from it, smiling back.

Remus made Harry feel comfortable, similar to Padfoot calming him down, but instead of the intense feeling Padfoot seemed to draw out, the one Remus inspired was calmer, more gentle, but just as mischievous. 

He wondered what Remus and Sirius were like when they were teenagers, they must have been close. Harry wished he had that history as well, but he had to admit, it was odd even to him how quickly he had grown attached to them, both of them.

They made Harry trust them, which wasn’t something that came naturally to him anymore. He wanted to prove himself to them– prove that he was as good a wizard and person as they seemed to believe he was.

As they were walking, Harry’s hand accidentally brushed Remus and he blushed red hot, thankful for the dark corridors only lit by Remus’s Lumos that helped obscure that, but judging by the small smirk and the twitch of Remus’s nose as Remus brushed his hand against Harry’s a few times, Harry was sure he knew exactly what Harry was feeling.

He wished he was older, so he could be taken seriously. He knew that Remus was a man, and judging by the year he graduated he was only 33, but Harry was 20 years his younger.

No matter how much Harry was attracted to him, Remus would never return those feelings as  Harry was a child in his eyes.

It was depressing, but Harry knew it was just how the world worked. Same with Padfoot, beyond the obvious perversity of that attraction. As Sirius Black he was probably the same age, and beyond that, both of them had been his father’s best friends. That made them practically his uncles. In fact he had already asked Remus if he could call him one.

Harry felt even worse about himself because that made it more alluring.

Harry wanted to check something though, against his better judgement, “Uncle Remus?”

Harry instantly felt a surge of arousal run through him at the words. He felt even more conflicted about that, because it felt good to say it, but also because it only highlighted that Harry was not a normal kid.

Remus made a sound that sounded like someone was strangling him for a moment before he coughed and looked at Harry with panic widened eyes, “Yes, Harry?” His voice was tight and forced behind a smile.

“You said you found out you were gay around the same time as me. When did you get your first boyfriend?” Harry was curious, because in some ways his being a werewolf was similar to Harry’s constant brushes with death in that they really made it near impossible to actually date .

Remus blushed heavily now, and it made the scars on his face paler in comparison, which Harry also liked. (He was beginning to realize there wasn’t much he didn’t like about Remus.) “I was 13, actually. It’s how I figured it out.”

Harry tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

Remus reached up and loosened the collar of his shirt, “Well, a very close friend of mine figured it out before I did…He thought I was just in the closet, and one day we were wrestling and roughhousing in his bed in our dorm room when he kissed me.”

“He just kissed you?” Harry asked, shocked. Even as a Gryffindor, he didn’t think he’d have that kind of bravery.

“Yeah. It was…really nice.” Remus admitted, reaching up to scratch the back of his head, nails running along a scar. Harry couldn’t help but track Remus’s fingers with his eyes, “I had a feeling that I might not like girls the way my other friends seemed to, but I thought it was just something to do with my being a werewolf, but when he kissed me I realized that was why.”

“So you two started dating?” Harry asked, curious but also happy that someone else saw Remus in a positive light like Harry did.

Remus nodded, tongue quickly moistening his lips as a quick and tiny smile flitted across his lips, “Yes. He was my only boyfriend throughout Hogwarts.”

“How many have you had all together?”

Remus looked a bit nervous with the question, “In all honesty, he's probably the only real boyfriend I've had. I've had a hard time getting close to people like that. I've been with other men, but mostly just to fill the space he left behind.”

“What happened to him?” Harry was worried he had died or something.

Remus swallowed and Harry felt bad about bringing it up, “He was arrested.”

Oh.

OH.

“So you and Padfoot?” Harry felt mortified, he had been attracted– perversely and unnaturally– to two people who were together; they probably felt even more awkward around him.

Remus took a deep breath, “Yes.”

“I'm sorry, Professor.”

Remus waved it off, “Please don't worry, Harry. We haven't really been together for 12 years. I'm not even sure he still even likes me like that.”

“You should ask him next time you see him. I can give you two some alone time.”

Remus looked down as they continued walking and they stayed silent for a while, both of them in thought.

“Thank you, Harry. For being there for him when no one else was.” Remus said, staring ahead with his wand held ahead of him. It left his profile cast in shadow by the Lumos , and Harry couldn't make out his expression but it seemed pensive.

“I think he saved me. Maybe not physically, but…he did. I didn't have anything to live for– not really.” Harry started. He had a feeling Remus might understand. “I really believed that I was going to die before I graduated…Part of me was looking forward to it, just to make it all stop.” He swallowed. He'd only told Padfoot this, but Padfoot couldn't speak back. “He gave me a purpose.”

Remus nodded sadly. Harry knew how sad that must have sounded– a 13 year old boy admitting his own craving for death just to have his life stop being miserable.

“Padfoot was the first person I've ever known who's said he loved me and I could tell he meant it. Truly.” Harry admitted, smiling at the memory. He'd never forget how utterly happy it had made him. “‘Will protect u. Love u Harry. Always. Not leaf.’ That's what he told me when I told him that I wasn't going to leave him alone.”

Remus’s nod was thoughtful and his smile was understanding, “Sirius is like that. When he cares for someone he never willingly leaves. He'll protect you as long as he lives. I can promise you that, Harry. If he says he loves you, he means it. I can't know what you've gone through, Harry, but I can say I do understand that feeling. Secretly wanting to die just to make it all stop. It's hard. You can't tell your friends that because they'll be sad and worried, so you just keep those feelings inside.”

Harry knew exactly what he was saying, “I don't want to burden them with it. How do you tell them that? ‘Hey, Hermione, you know all those times you asked me how I was doing and I said I was fine. I was actually lying. I have nightmares nearly every night and have gotten do close to dying that I dream about it.’”

Remus looked pained hearing that but nodded again, “I know exactly what you mean. There were days, especially after I'd come to from the transformation and I just wished someone would kill me so I wouldn't have to go through it ever again. Or when I'd think about how I was turned and realize my life had been stolen from me…” The look in Remus’s eyes was dark, sad, and distant.

Harry understood that feeling, “When the basilisk venom was killing me last spring, I could feel my body begin to shut down. My limbs were cold and I could barely move, but I had to stay calm for Ginny. I was ready to die, Professor. Part of me was angry when Fawkes healed me. I knew I was going to have to deal with more pain and I wasn't ready for it. And when the Dementor was feeding, I just…wanted to give in. I was so tired of it all. I had a thought that maybe it would just be okay to stop struggling and let it happen. I might have if it weren't for Padfoot. I couldn't leave him alone.”

Remus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed tightly, “I know it doesn't mean much, but I am so sorry you have to deal with that so young. I truly do understand that feeling though.”

“Professor, when were you…turned?”

“I wasn't even five yet…it was done by a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback as retaliation against my father who tried to have him arrested for murdering two muggle children.” He said, and Harry quickly realized Remus’s voice was colder than he usually was when he spoke, like he wasn't exactly himself.

“You don't have to tell me more Uncle Remus, if it's upsetting you.” He figured using a new name for him might break him out of the trance he was in.

Remus blinked and he was back with Harry mentally, “It's alright, Harry. I just want you to understand how many werewolves act, and why we're so hated. Many people will claim that werewolves act this way because they were discriminated against, but I find that rhetoric to be ultimately harmful to those of us who are law-abiding witches and wizards. We work hard to go against the stereotypes hurled at us due to the actions of those kinds of werewolves, and having us lumped in with them to excuse their actions is ironically incredibly insulting. Werewolves like Greyback revel in cruelty for no reason other than they can and it makes them feel powerful. That's why Greyback goes after children. Because he's a weak coward who knows he'd be murdered if he had to fight fair against a full grown wizard.” He paused and swallowed heavily, wrapping his arms around himself without noticing, “Greyback didn't just bite me, Harry.”

Harry immediately knew what Remus was trying to tell him.

Greyback didn't just steal Remus’s future, he stole his innocence.

Harry felt horrible knowing that, knowing it was in the past and thus there was nothing he could do to fix it and suddenly a surge of hatred sparked through him. He wanted to kill this Greyback. Wanted to tear him limb from limb for what he did. Wanted to make him suffer even a fraction of what he obviously put Remus through his entire life.

“Do you remember when Padfoot said that he, your father, and your mother had assumed I was the spy? It was because I was sent to attempt to speak with the werewolf packs and convince them to not join forces with Voldemort. I had to see Greyback every day and be forced to relive the worst moments of my life for the cause. I went to bed wishing I would die every night I was there. The only thing that got me through that was coming back to Sirius. And then there was you. When you were born, you were one bright light in a world of darkness for us, so I kept at it to keep your innocence alive and all it got me was my closest friends thinking I betrayed them and all my struggling being for nothing. It all had happened because of me. I'm so sorry I failed you, Harry.”

Harry moved enough so that he could stop Professor Lupin and hug him. “It's not your fault,  it's not Padfoot's. The person you have to blame is this Peter. He turned you all against each other. I'm willing to bet my broom that Peter was convincing them that you were the traitor and they didn't want to believe it. If he was working for Voldemort, he would have used you as his scapegoat. I think that's the right word, right? I'm sure I've heard Hermione use it.”

Remus pulled back, nodding, “It is. Thank you, Harry. I feel horrible putting this all on your shoulders when you already have so much to deal with. I shouldn't have told you any of that…”

Harry shook his head, “I actually feel…better,  Professor. No one ever treats me like I'm smart enough to understand these kinds of things. Like an equal. And…it's nice to know I'm not alone in what I've been feeling.”

Remus looked at Harry, tilting his head slightly as if to look at Harry in a new angle. “You are a boy. Harry, but I feel like it's not fair to treat you as if you are just a child. It's not fair that you've had to mature so much in such a short time, but it's equally not fair to not acknowledge that you did.”

Harry smiled softly, “Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to hear someone actually say that.”

“Of course, Harry. I do have a piece of advice for you though. Talk to your friends. I have a feeling they might understand more of what you're feeling than you realize. I'm sure they might even know you're not as okay as you say you are but just don't know how to talk to you about it. In my case, talking to my friends made me feel less alone.”

Harry grimaced. He didn't feel like that was a good idea, and as it stood he didn't really have many friends.

“Think about it. It’s an option. Besides, you can’t just spend your time around an old man like me.” Remus reached out and ruffled Harry’s hair, and while Harry instinctively wanted to push it away, he let Remus touch him, letting his fingers gracefully slip through his dark hair. Greedy at the idea of his physical affection.

It felt nice to have his broad hand run through Harry’s hair, and it made him relaxed and feel nice. It had an undercurrent of arousal, like a shadow under the water, but it made Harry feel safe as well.

Remus and Padfoot represented safety and protection, and Harry needed that. He unconsciously moved into Remus’s hand more, just slightly, but enough that Remus hesitated for a moment.

Remus dismissed his Lumos with a quick Nox , then pulled Harry aside, almost roughly, into a small alcove and hugged him again in the darkness, face pressed against Harry’s hair and Harry happily hugged him back tightly. 

When people like Mrs Weasley hugged him, Harry always felt awkward– out of place and uncomfortable, like he didn’t belong– but right now with Remus Lupin hugging him, Harry felt peaceful and protected.

He could feel Remus breathing in deeply, and Harry knew he could smell that Harry was aroused by this, but oddly enough, Remus didn’t seem to pull away like Harry had been sure he would have, instead he tightened his grip on Harry to the point where it was just barely painful, but he liked it.

“Padfoot and I will never stop loving you, Harry.” Remus whispered, his voice lower than Harry was used to for him.

“I’m glad.” Harry whispered back.

“Just be careful, Harry. Please.”

Harry was tempted to pull back so he could see Professor Lupin’s face, but Remus’s grip tightened once more and he felt Remus’s nose at the side of his head, and could feel his breath on his ear.

He could feel him take a deep breath in and then out a shuddering exhale, “Please forgive me.” The words were nearly silent, barely a whisper above a breath, and Harry suddenly had the feeling they weren’t meant to be said aloud. Remus was trembling as his grip bordered on pain, but residing on the side of pleasurable.

Remus swallowed heavily and Harry could feel the way his body shifted before he roughly pulled away, and placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, ‘Okay, let’s get you to the common room. I have lesson plans to go through and you need to rest before your first day of classes.”

He was smiling, but Harry could see there was something else playing in the shadows of his eyes.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence, but Remus kept a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder the entire way, and Harry felt like his chest couldn't take the way it was beating so hard.

When they finally approached the Portrait of the Fat Lady, Remus looked up at the painting, “Fortuna Major.”

“It's been a long time, Remus.” She said with a smile and gestured for them to enter.

“I'm surprised you remember me, dear Lady.” He said, smiling at the painting.

“You always were a polite one. You may enter.”

She swung the painting out and revealed the corridor to the common room.

“You know the password?” Harry asked, glad he did because Harry hadn't stuck around with the rest of the Gryffindors who would have heard it.

“Minerva figured I might be a help to wayward Gryffindors, and so gave it to me. Apparently it's coming in handy already. We'll hurry along, Harry. I'm sure your friends will be worried as to where you've been.”

“What should I tell them?”

“The truth. You've been talking with me since after the Feast. If they ask any more questions just say you were thanking me for Dementor.”

Harry nodded, “We can talk more later, right, Professor?”

Remus smiled kindly, his amber eyes catching the torch light and glittering like bonfires. “Of course, Harry. Whenever you'd like, just come to my office and we can speak about anything, as much as you want.” The hand on his shoulder tightened for a split second before Professor Lupin slightly and playfully pushed Harry the tiniest bit towards the common room and Harry smiled back.

“Professor, you can keep the trunk with you tonight. I think you and our friend have to talk. And if it's things you don't want me to read, it's best you bring your own parchment.” Harry said as he stepped into the corridor, able to faintly hear the hustle and bustle of Gryffindors on their first night.

Professor Lupin continued smiling, “You're far too kind, Harry. I do have some things I need to discuss with our friend that simply cannot wait. I wish I wasn't going to keep him from you tonight, but they cannot wait.”

Harry nodded. He understood. He was sure Remus meant important things like his arrest, or Azkaban, or things like that. But Harry also knew it could have just as easily been about feelings. Remus never once said that he had stopped loving Padfoot, and Harry had quickly realized that his initial feelings of jealousy were no longer there.

If anyone deserved Padfoot’s love beside Harry it was most definitely Remus Lupin.

He smiled gently at Professor Lupin, “Take care of him, okay? Don't leave him alone.” Harry told him as the portrait began to swing close.

“I promise, Harry. Neither of you will be.”

And then the portrait closed and Harry walked into the common room.

Chapter Text

Within seconds of entering the common room Harry was nearly assaulted by Hermione.

“Harry! Where in Merlin's name were you?! I looked up in the crowd leaving the Feast and you were gone! Then you weren't here when they gave the password! Which, by the way, how did you get in?”

Harry smiled at Hermione’s worry, “Sorry, I went and was talking to Professor Lupin. I wanted to thank him for saving me, and then checking up on me before the Feast. We were talking and next thing I knew it was getting late and Professor Lupin walked me back so I wouldn't get in trouble.”

Hermione seemed to be fine with that answer. “I'm glad that you're getting along well with him. I know you don't have the best record with Defense Professors, so it's nice to see you getting close.” She lowered her voice and grinned, “I'm sure that your obvious infatuation with him helps?”

Harry turned bright red at the question. For all they had discussed, and all that had happened, it was still incredibly embarrassing for Hermione to bring up how obvious he had been about his crush on the professor. “It doesn't hurt.” He admitted, and it was true. It was probably part of the reason he got along so well with Remus, because Harry liked looking at him, and was so quickly aroused by him.

Hermione smiled, but rolled her eyes, “I'm glad that you're getting along with him, but I have to admit that I'm not sure what you find attractive about him.” She admitted as they moved to a table by themselves.

Harry rolled his eyes as she brushed her hair back behind her ears, mostly uselessly. “Yeah, well I didn't get your infatuation with Lockhart last year.”

“Well, I didn't know he was a psychopath then.” She replied a bit defensively.

Harry shook his head, grinning, “Not even about that. He was just too…pretty. Like a doll. Professor Lupin is a man. ” Harry said, smirking while blushing. He'd never felt comfortable talking like this before, but Hermione had shared a lot to him about her summer trip and Harry owed trying to feel comfortable around her about it.

Hermione looked scandalized, but grinned, “I wasn't aware that's what you were into, Harry!”

Harry leaned in, “Did you see his chest hair? And his scars? He's just so handsome.” He was blushing heavily, but gossiping like a teenager about his crush felt nice. It felt normal , compared to the distinctly not normal way he secretly felt.

“I had always assumed you'd go for the pretty boys, honestly. I always thought you and Draco's rivalry was just a misplaced attraction.”

Harry snorted, “Yeah right. Draco's pretty alright, but he's got nothing going for him other than being ‘pretty.’ Besides, his father's more handsome than he is. Utter prick, but handsome.”

Hermione nodded, and Harry knew it was her ‘I've figured something out nod.

“So you're into older, more…manly men.”

Harry swallowed, and reached up to adjust his glasses. “Seems like it.”

“Told you he was, George!” Fred said coming up behind Harry and clapping his hands onto the table to make a loud noise, causing Harry and Hermione to both jump slightly before they realized who it was.

“Damn, I really thought he'd go for the pretty ones. There goes my bet on Diggory.”

He passed a coin to his brother, who took it graciously, “Thank you. Besides, it's obvious when you really look at him. Harry's got enough on his plate. He wouldn't be able to deal with a pretty boy. All that fussing and femininity, blah. Harry wouldn't be able to stand it. But with men , little Harry here doesn't have to be the strong one.” Fred said, leaning his elbows on the table as he glanced between the group: Harry, Hermione, and George. “So how about it, Harry? Where on the scale do me and George fall between pretty boys and handsome men?”

“Yeah, and don't worry, Fred's big boy, he can take me being more attractive than him.”

Harry looked at them a few moments, making it seem like he was thinking deeply on the topic, “Well, you're both fit, that's for sure, but not my type. Not pretty boys, that's for sure, but I'm not into twins. Sorry. Though I know two guys who seem pretty into twins if you're interested.” Harry shrugged.

George raised an eyebrow, “Well then, who are these two guys?”

Harry shrugged again, “Right troublemakers they are. Think they're smarter and more attractive than everyone around them and have a bad habit of inserting themselves into other people's conversations…”

“Well, Harry give us names!” George replied again.

Harry knew Fred had already gotten the joke as soon as he began speaking, “Two gingers who go by the name ‘Weasley.’ Though I did hear them say they might go by ‘Potter’ on occasion. Consider me their favorite brother after all. I'll tell them you're interested. Oh, by the way, Fred and George Weasley are interested in you two.”

George paused for a moment before Fred began laughing, “Could use some work on the punch line, but the lead up was good!”

George rolled his eyes but was grinning, “Yeah, definitely needs some work, but you had me there.”

It wasn't hard to figure out how to get on the Twins’ good side– just tell a joke. What was hard though was telling one that met their standards, something Harry knew he would need work on. He could be sarcastic from time to time, but actual jokes weren’t really his forte. “Yeah, you two will just have to teach me better then.”

“Don't worry, Harry, the masters will teach you eventually!”

Harry suddenly remembered what he had promised them at the Feast, and reached into his pockets to feel his pocket change for the Trolley. He pulled out five Galleons and handed them towards them. “I almost forgot! For your testing! Five Galleons, and at 17 Sickles a Galleon is…”

85 .

“85 Sickles. That should be more than enough for bribing first and second years to test your products, right? By the time you blow through that I should have my Vault tallied and can withdraw more. Around 90 tests should help.”

Fred and George looked ecstatic and actually leaned in to hug him roughly, together at the same time before they pulled back and grinned at each other.

“That’s brilliant! Thanks, Harry!”

“85 tests? We should probably only need a good twenty or so to perfect our candies.”

They looked at each other with a grin, “Then we can move on to our other ideas!”

They hugged Harry again and were off up to their dorm room.

“Why do you encourage them, Harry?” Hermione asked, pulling out one of her textbooks and opening it to where she had placed her bookmark.

Harry shrugged, “They’ve always been nice to me. So I figure helping them get their shop would be a good way of paying them back for that.”

“That reminds me, Harry…” Hermione pursed her lips and her fingers fiddled with the corner of the page she was on, “Earlier at the Feast…You asked me to ask my…girl friends about products.”

Harry nodded, tempted to pull out his notebook and see if Professor Lupin and Padfoot were talking in it, but restrained himself.

She sighed and leaned in a little closer, “Harry, I don’t have girl friends.”

Harry’s brow furrowed as leaned in as well, and tried to figure out what she meant. “Of course you do. Don’t you hang out with your dorm mates?” 

Hermione looked down at the book, and Harry could tell she was unhappy, “No. We don’t get along very much.”

“What about you and Susan Bones? I thought you two were getting along well last year in Lockhart’s class?”

Hermione looked to the side and grimaced, “After Lockhart’s…well, we pretty much stopped talking. She doesn’t dislike me, at least I don’t think, but we don’t really have much in common now.”

“What about that older Gryffindor girl you were telling me about? The one with the magazines?” Harry asked, almost pleadingly. He didn’t want to be that bad of a friend as to not even notice that one of his friends had no female friends. Hell, now he was worried that Hermione didn’t have any real friends outside of him and Ron . Oh, god that would be horrible if Harry never even really noticed that.

Hermione looked the other way and Harry suddenly realized he had been right. “Well, we were never really friends. She had just seen me checking out books about famous homosexual wizards and asked me about it. Other than that we haven’t really talked.”

Harry felt mortified by his own lack of perception. How could he realistically call himself her friend if he hadn’t even noticed that? At least at this point they were rather equal in having no real friends. It was rather clear that Dean and Seamus were probably going to fall into Ron’s side of the divide, and while it hurt, Harry would get over it. It wasn’t like he had any other options, really. “Okay then, well, we both don’t have that many friends. Maybe we need to…I don’t know? Branch out?”

Hermione looked at him skeptically, her brow raised and one hand curling the corner of the page without thought, “Branch out? Harry, how do we do that? I think we both would have done that already if we already knew how.”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe we need to look for friends outside of Gryffindor? What about Luna? She’s a Ravenclaw? Maybe she can help us make friends with them?”

“Harry, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I don’t think Luna Lovegood is quite all there.”

“What? You think she’s crazy?”

Hermione made a face, “Crazy’s not a polite way of saying it, but yes. I heard that even the Ravenclaws think she’s weird.”

Harry leaned back in his chair slightly, “I don’t think she’s that weird, a little odd, sure. Besides, maybe she just needs someone to be her friend. I was considered crazy last year, if you recall, and being isolated like that isn’t fun. Maybe she’s just socially awkward? Think about it this way, Hermione, wouldn’t people say that about you if we hadn’t become friends first year?”

Hermione scowled slightly when she realized she had almost creased the corner of the page she had been absently fiddling with while thinking. “Perhaps, but still…Maybe she’ll be your friend. She just gives me an odd feeling.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll still ask her if she knows any Ravenclaws that might be interested in getting to know us. Maybe you can try talking to Susan again? You two did seem pretty close last year.”

He could tell Hermione was hesitant about that idea, but Harry knew if he didn’t push Hermione in this she might not ever really branch out. She needed more friends, and that way he didn’t have to worry about his feud with Ron causing her as much strife.

He had Professor Lupin and Padfoot now, so he was fine, but Hermione could always use more friends.

“I’ll see, Harry. But in the meantime, I’ll see if I can ask my dorm mates anything about what kinds of things they would buy from a shop like the Twins’.”

Harry nodded, glad that Hermione was willing to do that for him, but aware she had quickly changed the subject without really giving Harry an answer. He’d just bother her about it later then, maybe after a few days of class. “Oh, I didn’t ask earlier, what did McGonagall want to talk to you about?”

Hermione suddenly looked a bit panicked, which didn’t make much sense. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was Hermione after all, she followed the rules almost too strictly if it didn’t have to do with whatever life threatening chaos was plaguing Harry’s life at any given time, or plaguing the school.

“Oh, it was about my schedule. She wanted to double check my classes with me and make sure I could handle them all.”

She’s lying. Again.

Harry ignored Tom. He knew that Tom didn’t particularly like Hermione for whatever reason which he hoped was not simply because she was a Muggleborn, because that was the absolute worst reason he could have.

“Oh, are you sure? If you’re in trouble, I can try to help.” He offered, deciding to pull out the book on Animagi he had purchased as well. If Padfoot was an animagus, then Harry wanted to know everything about them.

Hermione brushed his offer aside with a simple ‘I’m fine.’ Which even Harry was able to tell was a lie, but she’d come to him if she needed help, he was sure of it. He’d occasionally offer help in case she finally decided she needed it.

“I’m going to head up to my room now, Harry. Remember to get some rest. I’m sure that we’ll have a full day tomorrow.”

“Okay…Night, Hermione.” He said, waving her off as she closed her book with a thud and was already heading up the stairs, though Harry noticed something glittering around her neck that he hadn’t seen her wearing before. He wasn’t able to get a good look at it, merely seeing the glint as the firelight flickered off of it in a golden red gleam. Maybe she had decided to wear jewelry?

Harry shrugged and went back to his book.

Are you tired? Or do you think you could stay up for a while longer?

Harry sighed and tried to figure out what Tom wanted him to do. He was getting used to the way Tom would ask things, and this was clearly him getting ready to go get Harry to go do something. Couldn’t it wait? He’d already done so much today?

Well, it’s not like you’re spending time with your dog-wizard, or your favorite werewolf Professor, are you? And I’m sure you don’t want to spend any time more than absolutely necessary in the same room as the Weasley brat.

Harry stopped looking at his book, upset that he was just never given a moment’s silence these days, and despising the fact that Tom was right about that.

Still, he could easily sit here and read his books. Maybe pull a Hermione and get a headstart on reading his textbooks.

You’re clearly awake. Let’s get going. Grab your invisibility cloak.

Harry had left it in his trunk.

Fine. Do you know the Disillusionment charm?

The what? Harry hadn’t heard of a charm like that before.

He could feel Tom sigh right next to him.

Let me cast it then. It’s not as good as your cloak but it should get us where we need to go pretty quickly.

He wasn’t going to give Tom any access to his magic without being told exactly what the spell was for.

It’s like invisibility, but more complicated. Let me think of something you might be able to understand…You know in that cartoon you watched over the summer, where the character turned invisible like a chameleon? The charm does that.

Well, that seemed handy. No wonder no one wanted to teach it to students. He’d be willing to give Tom just enough magic to let him cast that, though in the future he’d prefer to cast it himself.

Well, remember when I told you about the Come-And-Go Room? We’re going to head there since you have nothing better to do. I had assumed you’d spend the evening with your dog wizard, but since they’re otherwise engaged, I might as well get something off my own agenda, and in the meantime you can get some furniture.

Harry looked around at the other Gryffindors still in the common room. There were at least a handful still hanging around doing their own things, most of them reading their own books, or gossiping together, and he was sure they would all notice if he tried to leave right now.

He was lucky that he hadn’t seen Ron at all so far since he had returned.

He would leave the common room once the other students headed back up to their own rooms, he told himself. 

It took him about fifteen minutes before he noticed all of them seemed to be watching each other out of the corners of their eyes, and Harry distinctly felt like everyone else was almost doing whatever they were doing mechanically.

He stood up, closed his book, and decided to check something.

He walked towards the corridor that led out of the common room and began to walk through it and he heard a collective sigh as if suddenly they all realized what Harry had realized, and the thought made Harry want to laugh.

They all had their own plans for the evening that didn’t include staying in Gryffindor Tower. All of the other students were older, and Harry had no doubt in his mind that they were probably going to go see their friends or lovers under cover of darkness.

Whenever they had snuck out at night, it had usually been later. Most of the other students like this wouldn’t have waited that long to sneak out, so they had never really run into them, but realistically, Harry realized, that most students didn’t follow the rules very carefully, and even the Prefects tended to let people get away with a lot unless it was something serious, or the Prefect was a stickler for rules.

He felt Tom take a hold of his magic, again a foreign feeling like ink slipping into the cracks of his mind, and then he felt something cold run down his hair and down his back like some wet, slimy, and viscous goop, like someone had cracked an egg over his head. 

He looked down at his arms and noticed the color running from them, at first leaving him black and white, before he quickly started going transparent, as if he was being covered in invisible ink.

He shivered as the spell consumed the last visible parts of him, leaving him almost invisible, like a moving heat haze. He really needed to learn this spell, because that would be handy if he didn’t have access to his invisibility cloak.

Yes, I’ll teach it to you. But head to the seventh floor left corridor. Across from the tapestry. 

Harry knew the castle pretty well at this point, often having wandered its halls, especially during his holidays at the castle, and he was sure there wasn’t a room where Tom was telling him to go.

It wasn’t too long before he was standing across from where the tapestry was, though as he predicted there was no room there.

Just do as I say. See this empty stretch of stone? I need you to walk back and forth in front of it three times while thinking of the fact that you need to find the Room of Hidden Things. I charmed the diadem when I was applying for the Defense position so the Room wouldn’t be able to recognize what it was and thus couldn’t just make it appear when someone needed it.

Harry had no idea what that was, the Room or a diadem.

It doesn’t matter if you know what it is, all that matters is that you need it. Now do it.

Tom was increasingly growing more agitated. It made Harry feel like perhaps Tom hadn’t been as forthcoming about what exactly they were here for, as he suddenly felt like he might be in danger. Tom felt angry , like something was happening that Harry couldn’t see or hear.

It’s so close. I can hear it screaming at me. I’m not in harmony with it anymore as I’m no longer connected to Voldemort. It recognizes me but knows my allegiance has changed and is lashing out in fear. You have to find it quickly, Harry! I don’t know how much of an effect it will have on us. I had assumed we’d be protected by what we are, but it appears that my presence might be causing harmonic dissonance between the shards. We need to get to it quickly! In the meantime I’ll try and figure out a way to protect us from its influence before it gets its vibrations into our minds.

Harry had never heard Tom so upset before. He sounded in pain and Harry was suddenly worried. It had been his idea to come here, but Harry wasn’t feeling anything, which was quickly putting him on edge. He didn’t know if this thing was affecting him and he just didn’t know, or if Tom was experiencing something different than him.

It was not knowing that was making Harry anxious and wishing he had just gone to sleep already.

Regardless, Harry was here. As told, he walked past the blank stone three times and kept thinking to himself; ‘I need the Room of Hidden Things.’

As soon as he passed it on the third time the stone began to shift and change, reminding him of the Diagon Alley entrance behind the Leaky Cauldron, but it wasn’t as rough looking, instead filigree began to form on the stone in the shape of a door, causing the wall to adjust as a door pushed itself into existence from within the stone itself, turning into wood as the door finished manifesting.

It was magical to watch in the way that all magic was to Harry, but as soon as the door was there Tom was shouting again.

Get inside, Harry! Find it! Quickly!

Harry still had no idea what he was looking for as he pushed open the door to find what appeared to be stacks and mounds of stuff as high as Harry could see, as far as Harry could see.

“What in the name of Merlin?” Harry asked, looking around. This room was bigger than the Great Hall! And was nearly filled to the brim! There was no way this place could even fit on the seventh floor!

Magic, Harry, don’t be slow. Find the Diadem now!

Harry felt slightly offended by the comment, and before he could even ask what a diadem was, Tom answered.

It’s like a circlet, or a crown. A tiara! God, Harry, stop asking idiotic questions and just find the fucking thing!

Harry was almost tempted to turn around and walk out at that, but he could tell Tom was seemingly in a lot of pain right now. Usually he was much more polite, even when he was being an asshole. Whatever was in this room was messing with his head, and Harry was suddenly more curious about what that could be, as he still couldn’t feel whatever Tom was feeling.

Harry walked in and began looking around but he had no way of finding this diadem that Tom was looking for when he felt something .

It was like a gentle chime, like crystal vibrating, or a wind chime. It was soft and the only way he could describe it was a trickling vibration that moved through his bones until he felt like he was vibrating in harmony.

It started pleasant enough, like he was being refreshed and he could think clearly, but soon he felt the discordance in the musical vibration. Like a single note was out of sync, cascading throughout the feeling and throwing everything else into disharmony, it set Harry on edge and made him clench his teeth to the point of nearly grinding them together.

The more the feeling began to vibrate through him, the harder it got to think. It made his bones feel like they were being crushed under the intensity of the vibrations, and Harry instinctively wanted to get as far away from it as humanly possible.

“What is that?” He asked, unable to keep his mind straight and having to speak to Tom out loud as the feeling got worse the more he walked into the room.

It’s the Diadem, it knows what I’m here to do. It knows I want to destroy it. It know’s I’m not attached to Voldemort anymore and opposing him. It’s trying to ward me off, and by extension you . I think I might have a way of sealing us off from the worst of the effects, but it’s fighting me. Shifting its charms around in an attempt to throw me off, but it can’t resist me for much longer. I was the more powerful of us, and it knows it.

Harry tried to breathe deeply but the feeling was in his lungs.

It wasn't painful, not like it seemed to be for Tom but it felt intensely wrong .

If you give me enough magic, I can formulate a shifting protection against it. I’ve been able to work through each combination of its defensive charms and offensive protections, it should shift as needed to protect us against the worst of it for the foreseeable future. I hope.

Harry was getting more and more concerned that Tom was asking for more and more magic, but Harry couldn't barely think with the way it was vibrating through him. If he could think clearly again then he'd be willing to give Tom just enough to do that.

As soon as he thought it, he felt the pressure lift off of him and he could breathe again.

Oh thank the gods that worked. I was worried I might not have accounted for some potential variables it might have been able to come up with. Regardless, it almost felt worse than being stabbed by a basilisk fang.

Now that he was able to think again, Harry wasn't going to apologize for that one. 

Tom had tried to murder him after all, and tried to kill a bunch of students, he wasn’t getting off the hook for that so easily. He was grateful that Tom had protected him against this diadem, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to forget everything Tom had done.

You perform a few attempted murders and get treated as a criminal even months after. What ever happened to forgiveness?

Harry wished he could see Tom in person so Tom could see the way Harry found the joke not funny.

Harry didn’t know how to find this “diadem” but now that the pressure wasn’t pressing in on his mind anymore, he figured it wouldn’t have to be something he had to accomplish as soon as possible.

He just didn’t know how to find it.

We can’t summon it, I made it summon-proof. Which I’m very much regretting right now. We’ll have to just explore for a while until we find it. There’s no rush, since you’ve given me permission to protect us, my defensive charm on us should make it so we should be able to come and go as we please until we find it. I didn't think it would be able to detect my defection so quickly, especially since it was never as powerful as I thought. I’ll have to reconsider what I believed about their capabilities in regards to my new existence. It may prove more problematic for my goals than I initially believed. In the meantime, look for furniture for your house with your dog-wizard.

Harry was confused by why Tom always referred to Padfoot as ‘his dog wizard.’

Harry. Whenever your fantasies overtake you I’m subjected to them as well. I’ve felt the things you want to do with him, and the werewolf. Please let me keep some mental distance between what you want and who I am. It’s growing increasingly harder to not already question who I really am these days.

Harry was instantly mortified that Tom knew all his fantasies, more than anyone else could. He had assumed that he had to think at Tom for him to experience his thoughts, but if that meant his mind was open to him, then every one of his horrible fantasies were visible to the man.

Honestly, your fantasies, while incredibly deviant, aren’t much better than my own at your age.

Harry didn’t want to ask what Voldemort fantasized about as a teen, but he couldn’t help a small amount of curiosity from slipping through his mind.

He could feel Tom sigh again, and it sounded far more sad than Harry figured Tom Riddle was capable of.

If you feel any sympathy for me as a person, as horrible as I am, please don’t ask that.

That just made Harry more curious. He had always assumed Voldemort was only capable of cruelty and malice, but Tom was challenging that assumption more and more the longer Harry was subjected to his mental presence.

You’re not wrong. Voldemort is incapable of positive emotions– the broken souled being that was left behind by what he did, but Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn’t. He was a boy once…A broken, lonely boy who’s only dream was to belong and be loved. As hard as it is to believe, I am probably the last fragment of humanity that was left in the soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle. The last piece that could have felt salvation before it was broken and forged into something else .

Harry knew Tom was a master manipulator, skilled with messing with people’s minds with his words, but there was an authentic pain in his voice that Harry couldn’t associate with Voldemort but instead could associate with the teenager he had met in the Diary and the Chamber. For some reason Harry couldn’t help but know this was the truth, and that made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to think of Voldemort as someone who had been a normal person at one point. A being that could have been capable of being a good person or being saved from what he had eventually become.

Harry realized beyond what little Tom had shown him in the Diary, Harry didn’t know much about Voldemort’s life before he killed Harry’s parents. He didn’t know his life, didn’t know what led to him becoming Voldemort instead of Tom Marvolo Riddle, didn’t know what his goals really were beyond being a cartoonishly evil wizard.

There’s a part of me that wishes Dumbledore had never found me. Never told me what I was. Maybe things would have been…different… For everyone.

Harry could tell that Tom wasn’t really speaking to Harry, instead he was speaking and Harry just happened to be listening, even if he was addressing him. 

All I wanted was to feel love. I don’t even know if I’m capable of that emotion, but I wanted to be. Do you know what I mean, Harry?

Harry nodded as he walked past a large stack of chairs with broken legs. It was uncomfortable to have to hear something so earnest and broken in Tom’s voice. And if he were in front of him, Harry was sure the man might have been crying, at least it sounded like it.

My mother abandoned me and my father never wanted me, and as much as I wanted to hate him I couldn’t even fault him for it. I was never wanted. I was born of forced love. 

It was disturbing to hear Tom Riddle speak as if he wasn’t able to stop, pouring out something that Harry didn’t think capable of from the man; heartbreak.

My mother forced my father to love her with magic, forced herself upon him, had me just to keep him there, and when it failed and Tom Riddle Senior was finally able to flee her, she abandoned me. She should have killed me, Harry, it would have been kinder for the world, and for me in the end.

Tom laughed, and it wasn’t a good sound– hysterical and shattered.

I spent years looking everywhere I could to find out about my father before I learned the truth. Growing up I wanted to believe, as all orphans do, that I had been wanted and loved…But I wasn’t . In the orphanage I concocted tales and stories of who my parents could have been. Whenever the other kids would hurt me or abuse me, I told myself that at least my parents had loved me but had died. Whenever the adults would hurt me or insult me, I told myself that they couldn’t break me because I was meant for so much more than that place. And then when Dumbledore came to me and told me what I was, I was proven right! I believed that my parents were powerful wizards, and that I was something important for once, instead of a discarded and forgotten little boy trapped in that orphanage where no one would ever want me. I wanted to know who my father had been, so I could feel closer to him. So I could have something that would connect me to him. I thought he was a powerful wizard, and that I would be like him. I thought it would prove that my past could be important. 

But then I learned he was a Muggle and learned how I had been born. And I now knew it. My very life was the proof of that. And it broke something inside of me; if no one could love me, then everyone would fear me instead. If my Muggle father couldn’t love me, then all muggles had to pay for that. At least that’s what my grief-shattered mind settled on, just to make my own pain stop.

Harry stopped to look at a bed, but continued looking when he noticed the frame was cracked and splintering. It wouldn’t do at all. Padfoot deserved the best and a broken, splintering bed frame was not it.

He wanted to let Tom say whatever he was feeling without interrupting him. It was giving him an inside look into the mind of Voldemort in a way he was sure no other being had been privy to. It was…disturbing, but in a way Harry understood it. It was monstrous, evil, and cruel, but it made a certain level of sense.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he’d react if he found out one of his parents had…raped the other with magic and that’s how he was conceived. That he wasn’t wanted and never had been loved one bit. Would he have broken like Tom Riddle did? Would he have been capable of shattering like this man had?

Compared to you Harry, I’m nothing but a monster. Your parents loved you more than their own lives, enough to throw themselves in Voldemort’s way to buy you but moments of time, and I– well the other me– Voldemort – took that away from you. Stole them from you. Why did I get stuck inside of you of all people? It must be my damnation for my sins. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to have me of all people stuck in your head. You don’t deserve any of this, and yet I caused it all. It’s all my fault.

Harry tried not to let his own pain surface and take him over. 

It was always there, the knowledge that he was stuck with the man who murdered his parents, unable to escape even into his own mind away from him. But it seemed that Tom had been aware of that as well, and had his own qualms with the situation.

The last time I connected with Voldemort was in 1980, when he heard the prophecy. He went and checked on me to make sure I was safe and that if something happened his memories would be safe. I have his memories, every single one, but all I am is the memory of a sixteen year old boy. I could never grow, never change. As much as I claim otherwise, I am not Voldemort. I am only Tom Riddle. I was Tom Marvolo Riddle for eternity, and then I was destroyed. All I wanted was love, Harry, to be special in the eyes of someone…Anyone. But instead I became a monster no one could love. Hah. I spent so much time seeking to avoid death, when secretly I wished I had never even been born. I felt that when I died, the world would realize my existence was an abomination and there would be nothing for me. No afterlife, or reincarnation, nothing but ceasing to exist. Maybe it would be better if I had died when you destroyed the Diary. I wouldn’t be stuck watching you falling in love and knowing I’m incapable of ever feeling it for myself. The answer to your question Harry– You want to know what I fantasized about when I was your age? I wanted to be loved by my father.

Harry didn't think that was bad as a fantasy.

I wanted to be loved by my father like how you want to be loved by Padfoot, Harry.

Oh.

I don't even want to be telling you this, but I can't stop it. God, I wish I didn’t have to realize any of this. The Diadem was able to affect me before I protected us. 

Harry realized that was exactly why it had sounded like Tom had wanted to stop speaking but was unable to, he was being forced to tell the truth. Just as Harry had in his Vow with Remus earlier. It was ironic in a way, Harry supposed.

Clarity of thought. What a horrid idea. The Diadem of Ravenclaw refreshes the mind, clears one's thoughts and allows one another point of view; granting so called ‘wisdom’. When Voldemort made it a part of him, he made those charms its offense– he imbued it with his fear of unrestrained honesty. The fear of having to face his true feelings. He cast them off into the diadem so he would never have to face them, and was incapable of facing them. So it forces others to have to face them. Just as the Diary– Me – embodies the fear of his past, of his history and who he used to be, of the human that he had been before he cast all that aside, and that’s what I make people relive; the things they don’t want to remember. I cannot help but tell you this, even though I wish I could stay silent. I didn’t want to see myself this way. It’s easier when I hate the world and the world hates me. Hatred is easy to understand, Harry, it burns like an inferno and nothing can calm it down, but… this is not what I want. I don’t want to be a bodiless apparition for the rest of my existence. I don’t want to be incapable of being loved. I don’t want to be an unholy existence that only exists to preserve the thing that I became. I don’t want to be Voldemort anymore, maybe I never really wanted to be him. 

Tom laughed again, and Harry was sure the man was sobbing wherever he was while trapped within Harry. The man felt hysterical, and Harry didn’t know what to do. It felt like the effects of the diadem were driving the man insane– well, more insane than he had been.

I killed him! Voldemort killed him. My father. I never had a chance to love him, or convince him to love me. Maybe I could have made him proud of me. Maybe I could have shown him I was worthy of being loved somehow. But Voldemort took that from me! I despise Voldemort for it! I think I always did as soon as the memory was added to me. Everything after my creation was never me. I think I always knew that deep down. The longer I existed the more me and Voldemort diverged. Perhaps there would have been a point when I broke free of his influence on my own when we became too different to be called the same entity any longer. Regardless, I don’t even know who I am anymore, Harry. I should have been destroyed! I shouldn’t even exist. Should never have existed. God, I’m an abomination. I should have died. It would have been for everyone, you most of all, Harry Potter.

Suddenly Tom’s presence was gone. The disconnect was not complete, but it was like he had just apparated away. Harry could still feel him in his mind, but so distant that he was essentially gone. He’d never felt this far from him before.

In a disturbing way that he hadn’t realized he had come to consider his new normal, Harry felt alone for the first time in his own mind in months.

He had grown used to the feeling of having Tom there, even if he wasn’t talking to Harry, or assisting him, but having him almost completely gone, Harry was suddenly hit by the realization that he had begun to take comfort in Tom’s presence. He had someone he could ask for help whenever he needed it, and Tom would give it because it was in his own best interests to assist Harry.

He had been able to feel Tom’s horror and misery through their bond as he spoke, and it made sense to Harry. Whatever Voldemort did to this ‘diadem of Ravenclaw’ made you have to face things you didn’t want to face. It brought thoughts and feelings you didn’t want to deal with to the front and made you unable to look away as it stripped away your delusions and exposed you to the truth against your will.

Tom had unwittingly been forced to bear the weight of that curse fully for some reason Harry wasn’t entirely sure of, but it had to do with some connection between himself as the Diary and Diadem, with Voldemort himself.

‘When Voldemort made it a part of him.’

Harry wondered what that really meant.

Was the Diary not the only creation of Voldemort with himself inside of it? Was this Diadem like the Diary in which another version of Tom Riddle was kept? Could it steal the life of another until it became real again? If so, then why hide it in this place? A room no one would know about? If so it would have been prudent to keep it somewhere where it could feed on life force when the time was right.

Harry continued walking through the room as he pondered Tom’s existence.

He didn’t feel too much sympathy for Tom Riddle right now.

The man had done horrible things in his life, and perhaps suffering like this was a form of deserved punishment.

But it was hard to not feel a tiny bit of sympathy for a being you had to share a mind with, especially when you could feel the pain in their words as they were forced to say things they never wanted to even think.

His words tugged at Harry’s empathy.

Still…Tom Riddle had not been a good man, and had tried to murder him last year.

But learning as much about Tom Riddle as he had right now, Harry couldn’t help but view him as a human now instead of an unrepentantly evil being.

Harry didn’t like the complicated mix of wanting Tom to suffer for the evils he had committed, and sympathy for what he had revealed to Harry.

Instead, he figured they would deal with it whenever Tom came back to speak with Harry, now he would just keep looking for furniture for his and Padfoot’s home…maybe his, Padfoot, and Remus’s home.

Harry blushed at that thought and felt a bit better.

He picked up a book that was laying on a random table that had cut pieces of rope covering most of it and blew the dust off of it. It was someone’s journal, and Harry decided to slip it into the inner pocket of his robe. It might be interesting, after all.

Most of the furniture in the stacks was either of low quality or broken, and he wasn’t even sure what he’d do if he found something he liked. It wasn’t like he’d be able to explain dragging a table back to his common room well after curfew anyways.

He wasn’t able to find this Diadem, Tom was gone so he couldn’t even rely on his magical knowledge, and now he was stuck looking at furniture without any way of actually taking it with him.

Harry sighed and looked up when he noticed a nice leather armchair sticking out of a pile about twenty feet in the air and for a moment he was tempted to climb up the stack and yank it out, but he had a feeling that if he did that the pile would collapse and probably take him with it.

Then he remembered he was a wizard and pulled out his wand and aimed it at the chair, while backing far enough away that if the stack fell he’d be able to scramble out of its fall zone without worry.

“ Wingardium Leviosa!” He said, making sure his wand was aimed at the chair and slowly tried to pull it out of the pile.

He could feel his wand resist him as the chair was firmly stuck but with enough tugging–almost yanking if he was honest– the chair slipped free quickly and Harry ended up almost throwing it into another pile before he got the hang of it. The stack he had just pulled it from wavered slightly, tilting dangerously towards the ground and making a groaning noise before it stopped and Harry let out a deep breath.

Gently placing the leather armchair on the floor, Harry walked up to it now that he was sure the stack it had resided in wasn’t going to come down and squish him.

The leather was slightly worn in places, but still very nice. It was in Gryffindor colors and Harry knew that Padfoot would probably like to curl up on it and sleep.

He stared at it though in contemplation and tried to figure out how he’d bring it back to his trunk– which was currently in Professor Lupin’s office.

He sat on it after dusting it off with his robe sleeve and marveled at the fact that it was actually really comfortable. He bounced a few times on it and was glad that the springs were still in good condition, or the magical equivalent of springs.

Harry wasn’t sure, he wasn’t well versed on magical furniture construction that well, or at all really.

He could just use Wingardium Leviosa to carry it back to the common room, but how would he explain a brand new chair to his dorm mates?

Of course when he could use some of Tom’s magical knowledge, the man was mentally gone, seemingly unwilling to respond to any of Harry’s requests.

He crossed his legs in the chair, leaned back and placed his hands over the arm rests, thinking deeply.

How would Hermione go about this?

She’d probably already know some spell to handle this.

Wait, that was it! Harry probably did know a spell that could help!

He tried to think back to lessons that might be helpful, but was drawing a blank.

Wow, he really needed to pay better attention to his classes, or at least just do more studying himself because all he could think of were useless spells that would have been pointless to even attempt.

He felt like his knowledge of spells was shrinking by the second as he tried to think of something appropriate.

Wait.

Shrinking!

That would work. He recalled Professor Flitwick teaching them a charm last year that would work perfectly. Sure, Harry’s results with it were…lackluster, but he hadn’t really applied himself. And like Lupin and Tom had both said, maybe all Harry had to do was actually apply himself. He liked this chair and did not want to leave empty-handed tonight.

He tried to recall the incantation and wand gesture for the spell; the Shrinking Charm, and honestly this might become his thinking chair because it seemed to help.

Reducio; the Shrinking Charm! The wand gesture was simple too; a nice V shape!

He liked the chair already! It definitely helped him think.

He stood up from it and carefully aimed his wand, imagining how small he wanted the chair. Small enough to carry but not small enough to break.

“ Reducio !” He said firmly, and suddenly the chair was actually shrinking as he wanted it to. It suddenly began to quiver and move between sizes as Harry lost focus and he focused on the mental image of it being small enough to fit in his hand again, holding the magic in place with that image.

The quivering and shifting stopped and it started to shrink again until it was the size of a tennis ball. He walked over and picked it up, glad it was lighter than before, but the chair still felt sturdy enough. He held it firmly and decided that was enough for the evening. He had found a secret room that he had never heard of, was assaulted mentally by some magical object called a “diadem,” had Tom Riddle spill his secret feelings out to him and then vanish, and then Harry found a chair he liked and successfully shrunk it. 

He’d have a lot to tell Padfoot about tomorrow.

He turned around and realized that he didn’t particularly know how to get back out. He sighed and began walking the opposite direction he had been walking, trying to recall if he had made any turns while listening to Tom speak.

Each stack looked almost identical, but Harry was trying to focus on the random little knickknacks that were scattered around.

He pocketed a few interesting looking ones and tried to recall which ones he had already seen.

After about 30 minutes of increasingly feeling like he was lost, Harry stumbled upon the door and nearly cried out in relief when he opened it and saw the corridor.

When he closed the door behind him the door faded back into the stone, and Harry was glad to be out of that place.

He’d probably come back in a day or two and look for more furniture, as he did see a few beds and tables there though none that actually caught his eye. He would need his own soon enough.

He held the shrunken chair in his hand as he snuck back to the common room, unable to rely upon Tom’s Disillusionment charm.

He made it back without trouble and gave the Fat Lady the password. While she seemed irritated at being woken up, she opened the portrait without too much grousing and he snuck back up to his room.

He was glad to see that everyone was sleeping, including Ron , who he sent a dirty look at and then went back to his bed.

He pulled off his robes and realized that all his changes of clothes, including his pajamas were in his trunk, which was currently with Remus and sighed. He kicked off his trainers and laid in the bed, examining the shrunken chair in his hands once more. It looked like a particularly well made toy when it was this small, something for a doll, but the materials were all well crafted.

Harry wondered how it had ended up in that room. It looked like it belonged inside the Gryffindor common room. When Tom came back, he’d have to ask him more about that room.

He placed it on the nightstand next to him, alongside his glasses, and closed the curtains on his bed, not wanting to be interrupted.

He had had a particularly eventful day, to the point where the morning at the Leaky Cauldron honestly felt like it had been weeks ago.

He had done so much in the past day, and it made him feel exhausted and wanting to groan at it all, but instead he decided that he was going to wank to distract himself.

He wanted to laugh at the idea.

He knew it was so stupid, after everything that had happened, deciding to wank just to distract himself from it all, but he was a teenager, he was allowed stupid decisions driven entirely by teenage hormones that didn’t bring any harm his way, and at least in the pursuit of momentary pleasure, he’d be able to pretend he wasn’t perhaps the most unlucky person in this entire school.

He wasn’t very skilled with any privacy charms, or charms to keep his curtains closed magically, but the rest of them all knew that closed curtains at night meant only one thing, and no one wanted to be that guy who accidently got an unwanted eyeful by not respecting that.

He pushed down his pants and underwear just enough to let his dick flop out. 

He was still growing, though he had started puberty around when he first came to Hogwarts, but now he was actually noticing physical changes beyond his voice dropping.

He had a few dark chest hairs which he was immensely proud of, and his crotch hair was coming in nicely, dark and tangled, but even if he hadn’t wanted to look too obviously last year in the showers once he realized his own preferences, he had noticed that while smaller than the rest of his team who were all older than him, his own dick was growing more still, and he tended to get bigger when he was hard.

It was nothing to brag about, but Harry didn't need to be the biggest around. That didn't matter to him.

He took a hold of himself in his hand, swallowing heavily and breathing deeply in through his nose as the sensation of his warm hand tightened around himself. He grabbed his wand and conjured some lube, glad he had overheard some sixth years talking about it and saying the spell. It would have been far more uncomfortable without it.

He was far more sensitive than normal as he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to wank with Padfoot around, though part of him really wanted to, instead getting quick ones in while in the shower, stroking himself rapidly and roughly just to get it done as fast as possible so when he inevitably came moaning things he shouldn't, it was as quietly as possible so that Padfoot wouldn't hear him.

As a result he hadn't gotten off leisurely in a while– he hadn’t been able to really indulge.

The air felt good on him, and he peeled his shirt off to feel more on his skin.

Closing his eyes he let his imagination wander in ways he hadn't been able to for a while, letting the thoughts that he had been holding back finally come forth. 

In the dark, he allowed himself to imagine the things he was ashamed of in the light of day. Allowed himself to indulge in his perversity to his heart’s content.

In the dark he didn't need to restrain the bad, dirty, filthy, wrong thoughts that flowed from within him.

Only in the dark, closed off from the world was he allowed to take out those glistening black desires that wore him down under their gravity by day, and let them free.

He began to stroke his hand slowly, letting his breath stutter slightly as he reached up with his other hand and ran his fingers across his chest, imagining they were Remus’s blunt nails, and when he accidentally dragged a nail over the nub of his nipple, he bit his lip and repressed a soft moan as he imagined those broad hands on him.

He'd never touched his nipples like that before, but that accidental scratch had made his toes curl slightly in that small burst of pleasure.

It was easier to start mentally with Professor Lupin first, as it took less breaking past his guilt to indulge in at first he found.

He imagined Professor Lupin was the kind of man who would be patient, and make Harry be patient in turn so Harry slowed his hand slightly, making his hips twitch forward once to go faster before he forced himself to get used to it.

He didn't just focus on his nipples though, as much as he wanted to explore that new sensation, instead he imagined Professor Lupin wouldn't want him to get off so quickly, so he avoided them for the time being.

As much as he missed Padfoot already, and he was missing him very much, it was nice to get to actually act on some of the fantasies he'd been developing, especially today as his libido worked overtime with the addition of Professor Remus Lupin in his life.

Remus and his broad shoulders, his calloused hands, the scars that crossed his body in ways that Harry longed to trail his fingers across, and the hair that peaked out of his shirt when he moved.

He could still feel his arms around him when he hugged Harry in the dark, and Harry let his imagination run away with that, the strength in his grip, and the way he hugged, and he could imagine those hands running along his chest and back, nails dragging just enough that Harry wouldn’t be able to not writhe under the teacher’s movements.

He trailed his fingers firmly across his skin, trying to imagine where Remus would want him if he weren't such a child.

Would he press those rough, calloused fingers into his hips bones? Would he prefer to run them across his chest? Would he drag them along his sides and backs?

Maybe…he'd run them along Harry’s neck where he could squeeze?

Harry held back a groan as he placed his hand weakly against his own throat, too afraid to do anything more than a light squeeze.

The feeling went straight to his dick and he sped up his strokes slightly before stopping himself. 

He had to draw this out as long as possible in order to actually satiate himself, not just put off the hormones for a few hours.

He could be patient, like how his fantasy Lupin would like. His fantasy Lupin would praise him for that, he was sure. He’d tell him how good he was doing as he slowly told Harry what to do, teaching him exactly what he’d want him to do.

Padfoot would be impatient though, and Harry let out a whimper at the thought of exactly what Padfoot would be impatient about, instantly snapping his free hand to his mouth to hold back the noise. He knew the curtains were thick (most likely for this very reason) but he couldn't be too loud.

Though the act of covering his mouth made his brain come up with images of what Remus and Padfoot would do that would make Harry have to cover his mouth to keep from being loud, for fear of being found out.

His thoughts and fantasies kept flickering between his teacher and his pet dog, and a few of them were the two of them together and they all went straight to his crotch, causing him to break out in a sweat as he had to physically focus on not speeding up his hand.

It was far harder than he thought to be patient, but that’s why the Professor Lupin in his mind was forcing him to go slow, to draw it out for him. Harry knew that fantasy Lupin wouldn’t want him to just wank and be done with it. He’d want to make sure that Harry finished gasping for air and whimpering for more.

His tongue flicked out and moistened his lips and he recalled the few times Padfoot’s tongue had slipped across them in their almost kisses. He wanted to feel it in his mouth fully, if just the graze of his lips felt that good. The memory sent shivers down his skin and he wondered how Padfoot’s tongue on his bare skin would feel as well. It was rough and would feel wonderful as it was dragged across his flesh– did feel wonderful the few times he would lick him while they were playing.

Maybe Professor Lupin’s tongue would feel good as well? He wasn’t sure. He’d never really had a human lick him before, except himself and that wasn’t the same, he was sure.

He knew he was getting closer, and his strokes became more faltering as he brought himself closer to the edge, trying to not go too fast.

He shifted positions so that he was on his knees, face pressed into the blanket so he couldn’t touch himself, just to prolong it a little longer.

That was a mistake though, as the soft fur lining of one of his blankets slid against his dick and all Harry could think of was Padfoot’s fur on his skin. He quickly used his feet and hands to kick off his pants and underwear fully and groaned as he felt the soft fur of the blanket slide against his skin.

Within moments he was thrusting against the blanket which was quickly growing moist with his sweat, biting his pillow to stay quiet as whimpered and moaned from the sensations, his hands clenching the fabric as he fought with himself about whether or not to speed up and come like this, or to attempt to draw it out even if he was unsure if he even could.

He was biting his lip through the pillow so hard that he was sure he was drawing blood and he moved his hand back to his neck, imagining Uncle Remus’s broad hand wrapped around it, tightening as he placed Harry’s collar around him with the other while Padfoot’s tongue was lapping away his sweat, tongue occasionally slipping into his mouth while Harry was thrusting against his fur.

The images his mind conjured up, combined with the feeling of the blanket fur, the slightest pressure on his neck, and the fact that he realized he was ass up with his face buried in the bed pushed Harry past the edge and he couldn’t hold it in any more.

With a loud whine of Padfoot’s name– muffled thankfully by the pillow in his teeth– Harry came harder than he had before, his toes curling and his eyes rolled back as he bit into the pillow harder; thick ribbons of semen painting his blanket and matting the fur lining and Harry collapsed into it, smearing the semen across his skin, barely able to roll over and pull himself under the blanket before he began to struggle to catch his breath.

It was the best orgasm he had had in his life thus far and it left him feeling like he had flown faster and higher than he had ever had before. It was the best he had ever physically felt and he could only imagine how much better it would be in reality and Harry wanted to bask in the pleasant afterglow for a while longer before the guilt and shame returned now that the arousal had been taken care of.

His skin felt extra sensitive in this state, especially his dick which sent almost painful waves of pleasure through him whenever he shifted and it rubbed against the fabric.

He pulled the blanket over his head and clenched his teeth when he felt the sharp dread begin to creep back into his mind.

Neither Padfoot or Lupin deserved Harry imagining them like that. Their lives were miserable enough as it was without a child lusting after them and making them the star players in his fantasies, even knowing they were a couple.

And lusting after them with such wicked thoughts! Such wrong things.

Harry swallowed, and the feeling was stuck in his throat.

He wished he could take it back, make it never have happened and only then would Harry be okay with it all.

He didn’t cry, but he was struggling to slow his breathing down as he beat himself up for his fantasies.

Thank the gods Padfoot actually wasn’t there, Harry thought, because he wouldn’t be able to handle that on top of the self-hatred and revulsion Harry was feeling towards himself.

He shouldn’t have imagined any of that.

He should have had some generic wizard in his head, and imagined simple things, like his muscles or his hair, or his lips, or even his ass or dick.

Instead Harry had the best wank of his life to the thoughts of his teacher choking him and collaring him while his pet dog licked the inside of his mouth as Harry thrust against his fur.

It was so sick that Harry wanted to throw up at the knowledge that that was what had pushed him over the edge.

He was so disgusted with himself because he knew he’d do it again as soon as possible, because it was the hottest thing he had ever wanked to and he’d never be able to wank without going down similar avenues of fantasy.

He was 13 and he was already ruined–a degenerate freak of a boy.

He curled in on himself and roughly pulled his clothes back on under the blanket as he tried to keep himself from freaking out any further.

He held his eyes tightly closed and tried everything he could to just not think , focusing only on his breathing and soon his limbs were growing heavy and Harry gladly welcomed sleep, even if it was just a momentary reprieve from his self-hatred.

Chapter Text

When Harry woke up he didn't feel as bad as he had the night before. 

The guilt was still there, lurking behind his thoughts, but it was not as sharp as it had been when he had gone to sleep, his pleasant dreams of Remus and Padfoot having eased that sharp stabbing shame into something softer. The feeling was of resigned understanding– to keep his fantasies just that; fantasies, for fear that someone might discover what he had called up in his mind to bring him to such a point of pleasure.

He did have to admit that beyond the guilt of what he had done the night before, it had felt absolutely incredible and actually had taken the edge off his constant arousal and let him think.

But in its place, Harry realized while brushing his teeth, was the constant awareness of what he had gotten off to. And suddenly he was beset by paranoia that someone would somehow know.

That alone was more stressful than the obstacle course in first year for the Stone. 

There was nothing that would have allowed them to know, no clues or hints that would reveal his secret to the world, but whenever he made eye contact with someone– anyone– there was the constant dread that they'd somehow see it on him anyway. 

See his shameful secrets.

It was ridiculous, he knew that, but it didn't stop the way he was reading too deeply into every glance or whispered conversation. By the time he was finished getting ready for the morning, making sure he didn't even so much as mutter a ‘good morning’ to Ron accidentally, Harry was ready to head to his first class of the day, just to distract himself from his paranoia.

He slipped down into the common room without much trouble though, and when Hermione came walking up to him, Harry was once again hit by a wave of paranoia that somehow Hermione could figure it out. That if anyone would somehow figure it out from just looking at him, it would be Hermione.

He felt as if it was visible across his face, as clear as day, what he had thought about last night as he wanked.

She didn’t say anything, and Harry was, once more, glad that he was simply overreacting. Hermione wasn’t a mindreader, she had no possible way of knowing those things about him.

The two of them made their way down to the Great Hall, with Harry taking a closer look at that piece of jewellery he had noticed around her neck the night prior, letting himself focus on that instead of his irrational suspicion.

It was beautiful, Harry thought to himself. The piece was elegantly made, and looked to be a wizard creation– fine detailed metalwork that gleamed with its own energy. It was a rather pretty metal, though it was one he had no knowledge of. It was almost gold, but not quite silver, and gleamed with a faintly red shimmer as it caught the light as she moved and it was a tiny hourglass with golden dust set inside a dial.

Harry had no idea what it was supposed to represent, or mean, and simply decided it was probably just a piece of jewellery that Hermione liked and bought, but as soon as Hermione noticed him looking at it, she quickly slipped it under her shirt and looked nervous.

Was she worried he’d judge her for buying jewellery? If anything it was beautiful enough that Harry himself was interested in it.

Their conversation seemed careful on both sides, as if they were both trying to avoid something they didn’t want to talk about, and while Harry was curious as to what Hermione could be hiding from him, he was just as glad that she was so focused on that that she didn’t ask him about what was bothering him, as he knew she could tell there was something .

As the two walked towards their usual area of the Gryffindor table, Harry could see Draco Malfoy watching him walk in with a vicious grin, and Harry knew whatever it was about, he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hey, Potter? I heard you fainted on the Express! Like actually fainted!” He called out, and Harry felt a sharp stab of anger course through him. The only person who could have told about that was Ron, and Harry had to clench and unclench his fist a few times as he caught sight of Ron grinning at him with just as vicious a grin as Draco was wearing, before he turned back to Dean and Seamus who looked apologetic.

Harry sat down at the table roughly, nearly slamming his bag down in the process, trying to force himself to take deep breaths.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Hermione said, sitting to his right, “I can’t believe Ron would go and spread that around!”

“I can.” Harry said, staring down at his plate as he began to pick foods to eat for breakfast. He settled on eggs and toast with a glass of pumpkin juice and ate them aggressively.

“But it’s not right!”

“It’s whatever, Hermione. It’s not like I can make it go away, and I don’t want to give Ron the satisfaction of knowing he’s making me upset. I can deal with it.”

“Harry…”

He speared a bit of egg and shoved it into his mouth as Neville sat down across from him, “Harry, I wanted to say I don’t think it’s embarrassing to faint from a Dementor. My Gran said they’re horrible. She went to Azkaban one time to see…well, that’s not important. But she said that even being near them makes you miserable and sickly.”

Harry sighed, and looked up at Neville, who was smiling sympathetically, but also quite nervous. Harry knew he was trying to be supportive, and Harry appreciated the sentiment, “Thanks, Neville, I appreciate that.”

Neville smiled warmly, comforted by Harry’s thanks, and began to eat his own food, more cheerful than before.

“Dementors feed on your soul, that’s why they’re so devastating.” Harry heard a voice say next to him, and was surprised to find Luna Lovegood sitting to his left already eating her food as if she had been there the whole time. “Good morning, Harry. You as well Miss Hermione, and you Mister Longbottom.”

“Morning.” Harry replied back, caught off guard by the fact that she was sitting right next to him. He hadn’t even heard her approach!

“Uh, morning.” Hermione replied back, looking at Luna with a skeptical narrowing of her eyes.

“Hi.” Neville replied, cautious as he looked the girl over once more. Neville wasn’t good with new people.

“Oh, sorry, Neville. This is Luna Lovegood, she’s apparently a Ravenclaw.”

“Oh, I think I saw you in the Choir at the Feast!”

Luna nodded, popping an orange slice into her mouth without a care.

They all resumed eating, and Harry looked up to find Professor Lupin eating his own food, looking quite a lot happier than he had only the night before.

He was guessing that whatever he and Padfoot had ‘talked’ about, it had done good for him. Realistically he knew that it probably wasn’t just “talking” that they had done, and tried to not let his imagination run away with that thought, but struggled until he realized he didn’t know what Sirius Black actually looked like, having never actually looked at the newspapers that summer or seen any of the wanted posters. And while he was tempted to find one to see for himself, part of him wanted to wait until Padfoot revealed that side of him to Harry to see him. It felt important to Harry in some way he couldn’t quite understand.

It made Harry smile and when Lupin caught his eye he smiled wider and his eyes closed and Harry realized he had been correct before. When Remus smiled he looked a lot younger than he had only the night before, the dark circles under his eyes a bit less dark than before, his shoulders a bit more squared, and his body held higher. He looked more confident than he had even just yesterday, like he was glowing from within and appeared even more handsome to Harry.

He remembered how Remus had hugged him last night, and realized that side of Remus was like this one– bleeding confidence in the way that it moved the world around him, instead of being moved by the world– and it made Harry feel warmer and some of his guilt bled away a bit.

He had a part to play in bringing this newer, more wonderful Remus into the world, and he could take pride in that.

Professor McGonagall said something and Remus turned to speak to her, and Harry looked back at Hermione who was staring at him with an odd expression.

“Did you hear what I was saying, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, glancing once more at Remus before turning fully to Hermione, “Sorry, I was thinking about something…”

She glanced at the direction Harry had been looking and rolled her eyes, though she had a small smile on her lips that made Harry glad she knew about him. It felt nice to be able to be open about it.

“I was saying that they just gave us our class schedules.” She handed him a piece of paper and Harry looked it over. 

He noticed that he had both of his electives the first day. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that. At least with core classes he knew what to expect.

He figured Hagrid's class would be interesting, though knowing the man, it might be a bit intense for people who didn't already know him.

Divination was a complete mystery to him however.

At least he had something to look forward to with Professor Lupin's class! He was looking forward to that!

“I can see you saw Defense.” Hermione said with a knowing glance, somehow both annoyed with him for not being as excited for the class itself as for the teacher, but happy for him as well.

Harry blushed slightly and took a sip of pumpkin juice, “Professor Lupin is a good instructor.” He said with a shrug after he calmed his cheeks down enough while drinking his juice.

“You haven't even had a class with him, Harry.”

“He'll be amazing, I already know. He was telling me a bunch of things last night while we were talking. You'll see. He's incredible.”

Luna turned to nod sagely, and smiled up at Harry with an orange slice in her mouth for a smile and Harry couldn't help but crack up a bit.

His laugh seemed to bring a bit more of a sparkle to her eyes and Harry was glad that she just…attached herself into his group. She had a calming effect on Harry, like he wasn’t alone in not being normal. And instead of the fear of being seen as a freak that Harry suffered under, Luna seemed to take it in stride and simply exist .

“You've spoken to Professor Lupin already, Harry? Is he strict?” Neville asked, and Harry could tell he was nervous about him.

Harry shook his head, immediately ready to sing Professor Lupin’s praise to the whole Great Hall, but settling for Neville for the time being, “Not at all! I promise he'll be a good teacher, Neville. He's got this way of explaining things… You’ll see! He’ll make Defense fun, I promise!”

“I'm glad.” Neville smiled down and took a bite of toast.

“I guess you two talked about a lot last night, hmm?” Hermione said, and Harry had to avoid her gaze carefully. He was worried that she was somehow on to what had actually happened last night, and he was smart enough to know if she knew even half of what happened, even removing Padfoot from the situation, she would probably say something about it being “unhealthy” or “predatory” or any of the other words Hermione was prone to use in situations like that, and Harry really really didn’t want to hear them.

“Well, Mister Lupin knew his parents.” Luna said, having finally finished with her orange. “Harry probably had a lot of questions. Right?”

Harry nodded vigorously, incredibly grateful that Luna was so good at covering for him, and he wasn't sure she was doing it on purpose or not.

Hermione seemed placate with that response, and went back to looking over her schedule.

“Wow, Hermione! I didn't even know you could take that many classes!” Neville exclaimed incredulously as he glanced over from his own at the girl's, eyes wide as he glanced across the parchment.

“It's a perfectly reasonable amount of classes!” Hermione quickly said, moving her schedule closer to her as if to stave off Neville’s eyes.

“But I saw Muggle Studies, Divination, and Arithmancy all in the same day. But all three of those classes are at the same time, aren't they?”

She folded her schedule up and slipped it into her bag. “I already got it all cleared with McGonagall.”

Neville looked skeptical, but he wasn't the kind of person who liked any sort of confrontation and went back to eating.

As the two of them were distracted, Luna leaned in and tapped Harry's shoulder, “Where's the other boy? The Slytherin?”

Harry realized she must have been referring to Tom.

He lowered his voice slightly while Hermione was reading a textbook on some subject or other, “He's…away for a while.”

“Did something happen?” She tilted her head, as if trying to discern the situation from Harry's eyes alone.

“He had to deal with a few things he didn't want to face. He'll be back eventually.”

She nodded, “Sometimes the only way to look to the future is to face the past. Sometimes to move on, you have to go back. And sometimes to grow, you have to suffer.” She nodded once and before Harry could say anything she was eating her food and looking around without a care.

Harry glanced up at Remus again who was still speaking with some of the other teachers and he was laughing about something, and it made Harry happy that he had a hand in lifting so much pain from his shoulders.

Remus seemed to feel Harry's gaze and locked eyes with him, smiling even brighter and Harry smiled back. Remus’s smile seemed to make the whole Great Hall brighter for it, like it lit up the room and made Harry feel tingly and warm under the spotlight of it.

Harry felt…happy. His paranoia was beginning to ease and he was sure no one would know what he had done.

The only way this morning would be better would be if Harry got to spend time with Padfoot.

This would be the first day they hadn't been able to go for a run together and that thought alone was a sad one. He'd have to find a way to go running with him after class. They could go running around the trunk, but he didn't want Padfoot to be stuck in there all the time. Maybe they could go running through the Forbidden Forest?

Or maybe around the Quidditch pitch after dark? That was probably less likely to have Harry have flashbacks to last year with Aragog.

Maybe Professor Lupin would join them. He'd have to ask him later.

He then realized that all his textbooks were in the trunk and smiled, at least he'd have a reason to go see Padfoot.

“Hey, Hermione, I forgot my textbook for Care of Magical Creatures. I'm gonna head back and get it, ‘kay?” He felt bad for blatantly lying to her, but not enough to not do so, as it was clear she was keeping something from him as well. They were both allowed their secrets, weren’t they?

She nodded without looking up from her book, while Neville nodded as if he completely understood forgetting one’s textbook, which Harry didn't doubt.

Luna on the other hand was levelling a piercing stare his way that suddenly made Harry paranoid again, as if Luna knew more than she let on– as if she might have an idea of who exactly Harry was beneath all his “normal” exterior.

It unnerved Harry greatly, but when she just nodded and smiled, humming a small tune as she began to braid her hair, Harry was once again left wondering if Luna actually knew more than she let on, or just was weird enough that Harry was imagining things.

He was leaning towards the former– she had seen Tom afterall, looked directly at him when even Harry couldn’t see him.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding in and looked up as Professor Lupin was making apologetic gestures and movements towards the other faculty and left via the faculty entrance they had used last night. 

Once he saw this, Harry made his way towards the Gryffindor common room, and then quickly detoured to Remus's classroom once he was alone, quickly finding he knew the route to the classroom without thinking.

It wasn’t hard to get there, running through the corridors as Harry was, but as soon as he stood in front of the door, hand outstretched to take the handle and push , Harry suddenly felt nervous. Maybe he’d read into Professor Lupin’s smile too much? Maybe he was just being polite?

Harry felt a knot in his stomach and was about to pull his hand back when he heard the door unlock and realized that Professor Lupin had been telling him to come to his classroom, and Harry decided he wasn’t going to let his doubt eat at him.

He looked around, making sure no one was watching so as to not give anyone anything to gossip about. When he was sure that he was alone, suddenly feeling freer than before, Harry slipped inside and closed the door, which locked as soon as it was shut.

Within seconds he was almost knocked over by Padfoot who was cheerfully licking him and rubbing himself against Harry.

“Padfoot! I missed you too!” Harry exclaimed, kneeling down to hug the dog and breathe in his scent to ground himself.

He was so glad that Padfoot was still showing him affection, even after what had happened. It made him feel less miserable, less like he had ruined the one good thing he had in his life.

After about a minute of hugging him, Harry let go and stood up and Remus was standing there smiling that smile that Harry was quickly becoming addicted to and he came over and hugged Harry again, tightly. Much like he had last night, tight and closer than Harry knew was considered proper for a teacher, but it felt distinctly more real in the daylight, and Harry wasn’t going to deny this hug that made him feel so safe and wanted.

Harry hugged him back and felt happier. Neither of them were acting like what had happened last night had indeed happened, and that made Harry calmer.

Remus took a deep breath in as his nose was nestled into Harry’s hair and his arms tightened a bit before Harry felt Padfoot press himself in between them.

Harry flinched when Padfoot’s face was pressed right into Harry’s crotch which sent a shiver down his spine as he remembered he hadn’t washed or changed his clothes from the night before, but Remus didn’t loosen his hug and instead moved his hand slightly lower and took another deep breath as Padfoot nuzzled closer.

Harry instead was only allowed to press into them both before Remus loosened his hug and pulled away, a bit roughly but smiling brightly at Harry.

“I’m glad you came, Harry.” Remus said, continuing to smile at the boy, “I noticed that all your clothes were in your other trunk and that I had left you with nothing. I truly am sorry for that.”

Padfoot barked, and went over to a desk and pulled out some clothes that Harry recognized from his trunk and walked up to him, carrying them in his mouth as he sat in front of Harry.

Harry took them gladly and turned as he shucked his robe off and placed it on a desk and began to take off his shirt without thinking.

He was glad to be changing out of his dirty clothes and into something clean, and he noticed as he placed the clothes down on the desk near his robe that they smelled like both Remus and Padfoot and it made him breathe deeply in.

It was like it was soaked in their scent and Harry was secretly thrilled that he’d be wearing it all day. They had picked these clothes and Harry found that thought made him more eager to wear the clothes. Wearing something they had chosen, surrounded by their scents, Harry would take great comfort in that thought as he moved through his day.

He was halfway through removing his trousers and underwear, pulling them down around his knees, when he realized he hadn’t even given the fact that Padfoot and Remus were right there watching much thought and turned around carefully to see how they were reacting.

They were still watching him, Remus smiling softly, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his pants as he watched Harry, but Harry noticed he was standing stiff, taking in deep breaths through his nose. Padfoot was sitting next to him, tail wagging vigorously as he stared at Harry, eyes unblinking as he watched.

Harry was confused by their actions. They were acting as if changing in front of them wasn’t anything to be phased by, but then again, he recalled when Padfoot had watched him that first night…and every night since.

Maybe he was just like that? It was odd, but like it had every other time, it sent a tingle through him, like being watched like this was something good and secretly it was arousing.

And then there was Remus, just standing there smiling while watching, and that made Harry swallow as he continued to lower his underwear, stepping out of the underwear until he was full stripped and slowly tugged on a new pair from the clothes they had given him, watching the two of them out of the corner of his eye.

Padfoot’s tongue lolled out, snout tilted up and Harry could see him sniff the air and his tail was suddenly wagging much more vigorously. 

Remus on the other hand was still smiling, and Harry noticed him swallow heavily and slowly brought a hand up to loosen his collar, and his nose flared as he took a breath in, and Harry noticed that his movements were rough and jerky, as if he was fighting himself to stay still.

Harry was very much confused by their actions though– he could understand judgement, that was a given considering what they knew about him. He could even understand politely pretending nothing had happened and go about carefully and unspokenly avoiding ever bringing it up again, but what he couldn’t understand was… this .

If he didn’t know better, it felt like acceptance, possibly even approval.

But he did know better, he just wasn’t sure exactly what they were trying to tell him.

Harry just wasn’t sure, and he was unwilling to ask because it was better to not know than to have his heart crushed by the inevitable truth.

He liked them watching him, for reasons he couldn’t explain. Part of him felt like maybe it meant what he wanted it to mean that his desires were reciprocated, that on some level they wanted Harry just as much as Harry wanted them, but he knew they couldn’t see him like that, and instead held onto the fantasy for a little while longer.

Their eyes were spotlights, illuminating every inch of him as Harry soaked in the attention, burning up under their light.

He wanted it to mean what he wanted, because it meant that deep down they didn’t just view him as a child. Didn’t just see him as something small, fragile, and undeserving of being loved in the way that Harry was increasingly knowing he didn’t just want but needed .

An adult love.

Something filled with craving and yearning.

But Harry wasn’t delusional enough to let himself even hope that they could see him that way, because it was something so wrong to want from them– to want them to desire him in a way that would make them wrong like he was.

Harry wasn’t always the most observant person, nor always the most self-aware, but these thoughts had begun to swirl around inside of him like a hurricane when Padfoot entered his life, and with Remus added into the storm, Harry felt like he was losing his grip on gravity, pulled into the gale and unable to even remember which way was down, lost in the weightless maelstrom of his own desire.

He was trapped in a riptide of his own inescapable feelings and there was no way out, struggling to race to the surface to gasp for air as his lungs began to burn under the crushing pressure of all that he wanted– and gods did he want . He wanted so much that it hurt. He was increasingly losing his sense of normalcy and secretly wishing he could give in willingly and let it drag him down into the secret abyss of immoral indulgence and degeneracy.

To want his desires fulfilled in reality was wrong, and to want them fulfilled by the men in front of him would stain them with the sin he had accumulated within himself– to drag them into the darkness that was calling to him from below the surface, stain them in the pitch black of his obscene perversity.

He wanted them to take advantage of him, to do the things to him– with him– that had been drilled into him as a youth were unforgivable and despicable. He wanted them to ignore all laws and judgements and just… take .

But that was a vile want; to want to turn them wicked like that for his own pleasure.

So he cast that desire back into the dark places in his mind where that thought, and others he didn’t want to face, lurked and prowled, waiting for the moment he let his guard down and they could come rushing back and claim their prize; his sanity.

He bent over as he slowly pulled up his underwear, as he was unable to resist some of that wickness leaking out of him, making him lose the will to fight against it.

He heard Remus sharply inhale and let out a shuddering gasp, and Padfoot started to growl softly and whine and Harry liked the way it sounded; desperate and so utterly wonderful to Harry.

He could almost sustain himself on those sounds alone, but he needed to see .

Remus’s eyes were pinned onto Harry, and Harry couldn’t tell what emotion was flickering in their suddenly luminously golden depths but it was beautiful to behold, and he was trembling, as if he was fighting to stay still and Harry didn’t know what it meant, but his hand in Padfoot’s fur was tight and his other one was clenching his clothes so tightly that his knuckles were white with tension, and Harry was once again struck by the wondering of exactly how strong those hands would be– on him, digging into him, wrapped around him– choking him like he had fantasized about.

Padfoot was staring at Harry still, but suddenly Harry could see the hulking beast he had met that first night, teeth gleaming in the daylight, and breath heaving in small sharp bursts of steam as a low growl continued to escape from behind those vicious looking teeth, but suddenly Harry felt fear grip his heart and it made him sweat and feel a need to hide, but also sent a frisson of exhilaration and pure want directly to his crotch.

He knew what they were really feeling though was probably shock at Harry’s brazenness, and he tried to temper himself, to shove that sudden want to push them back down into the dark little cupboard it belonged in, with the others, but he had already acted upon it. He had let that little dark beast out to play, lavished it with the sweetest of treats, and now it would only be harder to resist– much more insistent in its future demands now having tasted sweet indulgence.

He finished pulling up his underwear and quickly shimmied into his trousers before he tugged the shirt on as well and he momentarily let himself breathe in their combined scents and wish he could burrow away into it, but he did have things he needed to do, and acting so deviantly was probably not the smartest decision he could make.

Once he was finished getting dressed, he pulled on his robe and went and stood in front of them, forcing a smile on his face.

“Thank you both. I just have to get my-” Before Harry could finish Remus flicked his wand and Harry's books were floating towards him.

“I took the liberty of getting them for you.” Remus said, his voice a bit rougher than Harry would have assumed. Most likely from trying to act normal about Harry changing in front of him.

“I appreciate it, Professor!” He shoved them into his bag and pulled out over his shoulder.

Remus smiled, a bit easier than before as his shoulders relaxed and Padfoot was now back to wagging his tail.

“You should get going, Harry, you don't want to be late for your first class of the term!”

Harry nodded and Padfoot came bounding over again, butting Harry's hand and looking up at him with wide, round eyes, practically begging Harry to pet him again.

“Thank you, Padfoot, for always being here for me.” Harry whispered softly as he petted the dog and scratched behind his ear as he knew Padfoot liked it.

Before he left he also went and gave Remus another hug, tight enough that Harry could breathe in his scent as well.

“I know you'll do great for your first class, Professor!” Harry said as he smiled at him, and Remus looked inordinately happy with Harry's comment, reaching down to ruffle his hair like he did the night prior and Harry leaned into it slightly as he did so.

“Thank you, Harry, now you really should hurry. I don't want Miss Granger to send out a search party for you.”

Harry laughed, hitching up his bag so it rested on his shoulder more naturally, “Yeah, she probably would try to. Remember Padfoot, be good. Don't cause Remus any trouble.” Harry said, smirking at the dog who rolled his eyes and huffed annoyed, but Harry knew he was happy.

Harry waved at them one last time and then quickly left the room and began to head back to the Great Hall. He had a bit more time till first class started.

He felt a bit of shame at his actions earlier, but was surprised to find that their reactions hadn't made him feel as bad as he figured they would. He knew he was reading things that weren't there into their inaction, but still…it was nice that they hadn't pushed him away or tried to stop him.

It allowed him to indulge his fantasy a little longer, and right now that was as sweet as nectar.

He felt a little lighter now, like something had been removed from him and it made him move easier.

He slipped back into the Great Hall and slid back in next to Hermione.

“Sorry about that! Did I miss anything?” He asked, pouring himself another glass of pumpkin juice.

“Oh, Luna was telling me about her garden back home!” Neville said, smiling brightly and Harry was glad that Luna and Neville were getting along. 

He'd never really considered Neville close before, but the boy had always been nice to Harry and Harry felt a bit bad about never really taking him seriously, so if Neville was on his side in the Harry-Ron divide, then all the better. It'd be nice to have at least one dorm mate on his side.

“Oh?” Harry asked, deciding to pull out one of the books he had bought that he had shoved into his bag this morning. Apparently he'd be doing more studies on Animagi today. He knew he could probably ask Padfoot and Remus for more practical information on them, seeing as Padfoot was one. But this book was mostly on the history, and spiritual and magical implications of the animagus, and Harry figured that was a good place to start in his studies.

“Yes! Most people I talk to get rather bored talking about plants, but Luna isn't like most people!” Neville looked ecstatic at the idea and Harry glanced at Luna who was smiling her usual dreamy smile and turned it on Harry, her eyes focusing slightly.

“How was Professor Lupin and his friend?” She asked, taking a sip of her goblet with both hands.

Harry would have flinched if he wasn't already growing used to Luna seemingly knowing more than she should.

“He's good. I saw him on my way to our common room and wanted to see how he was.”

Luna nodded as if she liked that answer, “Mister Longbottom-”

“Neville, please.”

“Okay, Mister Neville. You mentioned a Flasorial Bloom earlier. I'm not familiar with that flower, would you mind telling me more?”

Neville looked positively luminous and launched into a lengthy, and honestly quite detailed, history of the flower and its various properties for potions completely from memory. Harry was actually rather impressed, even if he wasn't particularly listening.

Hermione on the other hand was already nose deep inside one of her textbooks and barely seemed to recognize that the outside world existed any longer, which was rather her usual when she was focused on schoolwork

After a while of Harry learning about the documented history of Animagi, the bell rang and he and Hermione placed their books in their bags, and Neville had to finish his discussion with Luna about whatever the flower was called that he had been talking about.

“Bye, Luna.” Harry said as she went off in a different direction for her own classes while Harry, Neville, and Hermione began walking towards the Divination Tower.

He had no idea of what to expect from the class, and it seemed neither did Neville who was rather nervous.

Hermione on the other hand had vanished while they were walking, neither Neville and him alone and confused.

“Wasn't she just–?” Neville asked, looking around the corner they had just passed and shrugging when he didn't see her. “Maybe she forgot her textbook?”

Harry doubted that, though it was really strange that she had just disappeared when they weren't looking. He'd have to ask her about it later.

He and Neville on the other hand had to get to class.

When they reached the top of the Divination stairway, they found a large group of students all seemingly confused as well.

There were no doors or anything, only a large trap door above them with no way of reaching it.

“Well, how do we get to the class?” Someone asked, Harry wasn't sure who.

As soon as the question was out, a silvery ladder flowed down in front of them as the trap door opened.

“Oh.” Someone said and a few people chuckled.

They all began to climb the ladder and head into the classroom.

As soon as Harry entered the classroom he immediately realized he did not like it. It was hot, everything was bathed in an ominous red light, a thick perfume hung in the air that tickled his nose and made him sleepy and it looked nothing like a classroom.

There were a bunch of tables crammed into the room and the students began to take their seats. Harry sat at one and Neville nervously sat on one of the pouffes at his table.

Then he saw someone else sit down at the table and realized it was Hermione.

“Where did you go, Hermione?” Harry quickly asked under his breath.

She looked at him with a raised brow, “What are you talking about? I've been here the whole time.”

Harry immediately knew she was lying. He and Neville had checked and Hermione had not been there with them, nor had she been in the crowd of students below the ladder, which still had students climbing up so she had no way of getting up so quickly.

He normally wouldn't have noticed but Harry had been very worried about Hermione vanishing and now she was lying to him about something.

He decided that he'd simply keep an eye on her more closely, try to figure out what she was up to.

After a few moments, someone spoke up, “Well, where is she?”

A soft, misty voice emerged from the shadows. “Welcome, children, it is nice to see you in the physical world at last.”

When the source of the voice emerged, letting herself become illuminated by the firelight, Harry was stunned by her appearance. She was very thin, with glasses that magnified her eyes to a comically large degree, and she was covered in jewellery and an oversized shawl that made Harry think of every phoney fortune-teller he'd ever seen.

“Welcome to Divination,” Professor Trelawney said as she sat in one of the armchairs near the fire, casting herself in an intense shadow, leaving her looking like she was going to tell some form of horror story. “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”

Laughably horrendous behaviour for a Seer.

Oh. Harry didn't expect Tom back for a while after last night.

Don't confuse me with someone who's of a much weaker will. While much of what I divulged was against my choice, and much of it was immensely…deep, it would take far more than a sudden epiphany about my own issues to keep me from action for long. Besides, the empty recesses of your mind where I was dwelling get rather boring quickly.

Harry was…glad that Tom had come back so quickly, he was getting used to his commentary.

Good to know I have some use. But yes, this Trelawney may make an odd Prophecy or two, but from what I know she's laughably bad at Divination as a whole. Completely unqualified to teach. I suspect that the old fool only keeps her around to keep Voldemort from getting his hands on her. Don't take much stock in what she proclaims. You'll know when it's real.

Harry smiled to himself as he vaguely listened to her talk.

You can ignore her for the most part. Divination is an incredibly difficult field to excel in, and many witches and wizards won't find much success. But the field itself is incredibly ancient and useful. I don't have much patience with it myself, but I excelled in all my classes, so I can teach you far better than this…fraud can. If she says anything important I'll let you know.

Harry tuned back into the class as she came up to Neville, “Boy! Is your grandmother well?” Her voice was trembling as she stared at him.

“Um,” He looked at Harry, and then back at her, “I think so?”

“Don't be so sure.” She said grimly before she moved on and Harry leaned over as Neville gulped and looked scared.

“Your gran is probably fine, Neville. If she knew she was in trouble she wouldn't have asked you if she was well first.” Harry said under his breath.

Neville nodded and looked a little calmer and smiled at Harry, “Thanks, Harry.”

“We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear,  “beware a red-haired man.” Professor Trelawney said to Parvati Patil, who had been sitting in front of Ron. She scooted her chair away from him instantly with a dirty look and Harry couldn't help but smirk at that. It may have been a stupid prediction, but his petty angry side was glad to see someone else look at Ron like that.

“In the summer term, we shall progress to the crystal ball – if we have finished with fire-omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever.”

Harry began to tune her out again.

Soon enough she was telling them to get teacups and form pairs.

He was tempted to pick Hermione but she wasn't paying attention and Neville instead looked at Harry pleadingly and Harry couldn't resist such a look.

As they got up Professor Trelawney took a hold of Neville’s arm, “And dear, after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”

Neville looked even more nervous and once Professor Trelawney moved on, Harry reached out and stopped Neville.

“I'll get them, don't worry.”

Neville looked even more grateful, “Thanks, Harry. The thing about Gran has me all nervous.”

Harry nodded and grabbed two blue teacups from the shelf and brought them to get filled.

He could see Professor Trelawney look him up and down with a dismissive drag of her stupidly large eyes as she filled the cups and Harry patented ignored her as he went back to his table and handed Neville his teacup and saucer.

Harry smiled as they both began to drink the tea when Neville seemed to find it gross.

It wasn't very good, but Harry simply stopped tasting it soon enough thanks to years of drinking subpar tea at the Dursleys.

Soon enough he was handing Neville his cup while Neville handed Harry his.

The heavy perfumed smoke in the room was making Harry's eyes drowsy and he was having a hard time staying awake. He wondered if there was anything Tom could do to at least clear it away from him so he could focus on the task at hand.

In a moment the air around him cleared up and was suddenly refreshed and crisp and Neville himself seemed to notice it because the both of them perked up.

“Okay, let's see…” Neville said, flipping through the pages of the Divination textbook that Professor Trelawney had told them to go to.

Neville kept turning the cup in his hands and looked confused.

“Do you want me to go first?” Harry offered, already glancing at Neville's tea leaves.

Neville nodded vigorously, almost dropping the teacup before he got a better grip on it and exhaled deeply, glad he hadn’t dropped it.

Harry squinted at the mushy tea leaves at the bottom of the cup and consulted Unfogging The Future. “Okay, I think this bit is a…tree? Growth and stability. Well, that's a good sign, right? And this other section…maybe a…” He turned the glass as he glanced back at the book, “I think that's a cat. Luck. Okay, so you're going to be lucky and grow and find stability?”

Neville relaxed in his seat, “Well, that sounds good! I could use some luck.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry said with a chuckle.

“Okay, let me try now!” Neville said, feeling emboldened by Harry's prediction.

He glanced at the cup in his hands, “Hmm this kind of looks like a lightning bolt.” He glanced up at Harry’s forehead and then back down at the book, “Sudden change and intervention. And this bit looks like a crescent moon. Though I can't tell if it's waxing or waning. So it's either something coming to fruition, or something moving towards its conclusion.” He held it up to his face, “I can't make out this bit here. Looks like an animal though.”

“Let me see that!” Professor Trelawney said, suddenly at their table and snatching the teacup from Neville's hand and holding it up to her oversized glasses.

“Hmm, a falcon- a deadly enemy.” She proclaimed, her voice quivering.

Hermione spoke up, “But everyone knows Harry has a deadly enemy.”

Professor Trelawney snapped her eyes to Hermione, suddenly looking rather annoyed.

“Well, it's true.” She said as Trelawney held the cup up again.

“A club- an attack. Dear, this is not a very reassuring cup. The skull…danger in your path, my dear…” Harry suddenly did not like how she called him ‘dear’.

The entire class was sitting in silence, awaiting Trelawney's next words.

She turned the cup on last time and screamed, nearly dropping the cup and sinking back into the nearest open armchair.

“Oh, dear boy, you poor boy!” She proclaimed, holding a hand up to her heart and closing her eyes as she took deep gulping breaths of air as if to calm herself of what she saw, causing the firelight to glitter off all her jewelry, “You mustn't ask me! It's kinder not to say!”

She's dragging this out to make a spectacle. Let me guess, she's seen your death.

“What is it, Professor?” Someone asked, but Harry was awaiting the inevitable from the teacher.

Harry noticed nearly everyone in the class was slowly crowding near their table, all waiting to bear Trelawney's dire proclamation.

Suddenly Trelawney had opened her eyes dramatically, turning to face Harry with wide eyes, “Dear boy, you have… the Grim.”

Of fucking course.

Harry didn't know that Tom could swear. It sounded completely out of place from that voice.

Almost all the class had gasped and covered their mouths with their hands, looking at Harry like he had just killed someone.

“The Grim, my dear, the Grim! The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of death!”

Harry couldn't help but laugh loudly at that. He could only see Padfoot at that description, and instead of the dangerous version he had seen the first night, all he could see was things like him convincing strangers to give him food at the park, and he suddenly remembered the book on Death Omens at Flourish and Blotts he had bought solely because it looked like Padfoot on the cover.

Trelawney huffed and looked at Harry like he had done something highly offensive.

“Dear boy, why are you laughing at such an omen of death?”

It does look like a dog, I do have to admit. It could easily just be a normal dog though. According to your book, it is a symbol of loyalty, fidelity, and brotherhood.

“Well, what makes it a Grim and not a normal dog?” Harry asked, pointing towards Unfogging The Future's entry on dog's in tea leaves. “According to this here, it could easily be a symbol of loyalty or brotherhood.” Harry suddenly remembered a boy in primary school who had been into tarot cards who had said once that Death actually meant a change or transformation, “And even if it's the Grim, it could easily mean a transformation of some sort instead of literal death. Perhaps a symbolic death.”

And the Grim is sometimes considered a psychopomp- guide of lost souls. There's some tales that the Black Dog even helps guide lost travelers back towards the path, or protects them from attack.

“There are also tales of spectral black dogs guiding lost travelers back to the path, and they're considered psychopomps by some- guides to lost souls. So couldn't my cup say that an enemy is going to attack me but I will be guided back by a loyal ally? Or even that I will be attacked by an enemy and come out changed for the encounter? Jumping straight to my death seems a little dire, and frankly irresponsible.”

He heard a few students seem to agree with him and make understanding noises, which felt nice.

“Excuse me, Mister Potter, which one of us is the Seer?” Professor Trelawney's voice was no longer distant and misty, instead rather annoyed and quite frankly disdainful, and Harry knew her previous affectations were simply an act meant to garner amazement and praise. “As the professional here, it might do you good to listen to what I have to say. Besides, the Grim is always an omen of death, the gravest in fact.”

“Well then. When?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. If he was going to die, surely she'd be able to glean more information to give to him– let him get his affairs in order.

“What?” She looked at Harry, eyes even wider as if she couldn't believe what he was asking.

“Well, that's just tea leaves, right?” He turned to Hermione who seemed to be very happy with Harry's outburst and nodded, “If my death is so clear that a single cup can predict it, then wouldn't it be better to double check with a different method rather than tell a 13 year old boy he's going to die because of a single, possibly misinterpreted, teacup?”

Trelawney suddenly looked like Petunia when she was angry, teeth clenched and left eye twitching slightly.

“Mister Potter, if I hear another ridiculous assumption about the art of Divination from you in this class I won't hesitate to give you detention, am I clear?”

That has to be a record. First class of the day and already almost receiving detention. This class has fallen so far since my days as a student. Your rebuttals would have gotten you extra marks from a genuine Seer, instead of this sham of one who can only make a genuine Prophecy when she's not aware of it.

“As crystal.” He replied to the professor, looking up at her coldly.

“Well, as I predicted, this class will end early, you may all pack away your things and leave.”

“Yeah right, you ‘predicted’ it.” Harry muttered under his breath, causing Hermione to snicker under her breath as well, even making Neville smile smally.

Professor Trelawney shot Harry a dirty look and Harry closed his book and packed it away, making sure she saw his petty smirk.

As they left, and finished climbing down the ladder Hermione started laughing, “I can't believe you spoke to a teacher like that, and that it wasn't Snape. But I'm glad. Can you believe some of the things she was spouting?”

Harry grinned, “She's a hack.”

Neville looked a little nervous at their bad-mouthing their teacher so easily but it appeared their disdain made him a little more confident. “I feel stupid for letting her get me so nervous.”

“Don't be.” Harry replied, “She's probably heard rumors about you and figured you were an easy victim to make a spectacle with. Same with me.”

Neville nodded, more at ease. “I don't like the way it smells in there. Thanks for whatever you did to clear it up Harry.” He smiled at Harry, and Harry was struck by the fact that Neville probably had needed a friend nearly as much as Harry and Hermione did. Maybe it was better off that his fight with Ron had fractured his friend group. He'd suddenly become friends with Luna Lovegood, and if Neville didn't mind, he might become friends with him as well.

“No problem, Neville.” Harry replied as they made their way to Transfiguration, which Harry was, for perhaps the first time, looking forward to. He was quickly becoming rather enamoured with the subject, at first because he had wanted to untransfigure Padfoot back to Sirius, then to conjure furniture, and now to learn more about animagi.

He'd definitely be paying better attention in that class.

I take it I will be your tutor then?

Harry wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to get better at being a wizard.

I still can't believe McGonagall is still teaching. She was teaching when I was a student. Though the old fool Albus was my transfiguration professor.

Harry hadn't known that Albus used to be a teacher, but it did make a lot of sense.

That reminds me, you probably should speak to Albus soon. Reveal me. I'm going to need his assistance, loathe as I am to admit that. Plus, the information I give him will probably make things easier for you as well.

Harry wanted to put that off for a while. The last time he had spoken to Dumbledore and almost told him about Tom had resulted in Dumbledore doing something to him that made him hurt a lot.

Ah yes, I almost forgot about that. He was attempting to penetrate your mind and figure out what you were keeping from him. I fought him off and blocked our mind off from him.

Harry distinctly remembered a feeling like cold steel around his mind.

That is called Occlumency, it defends against Legilimency. I should have you learn the skill even if I can do it myself.

“Harry? Are you listening?” He heard Hermione ask angrily, snapping her fingers in front of his face before he focused back on her as they were walking through the busy corridors towards Transfiguration.

“Hmm? What's up?” He asked, adjusting his bag.

“I've been trying to get your attention for a full minute. Did you not hear a word I was saying?”

“Sorry, I was thinking about things.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and brushed a lock of her bushy hair back from her face, “I was asking if you're looking forward to Transfiguration.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I think I am. Hermione, isn't McGonagall an Animagus?”

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, but nodded, “Yes. One of the seven in the country, actually. I checked.”

“She registered herself?” Harry suddenly recalled his conversation with Ludgar.

“Of course she did. All Animagi have to.”

“That's such a stupid law.” Harry muttered to himself.

“I heard that the ritual is so advanced that you have to be an expert at Transfiguration and be incredibly powerful as well to succeed. It just proves how good of a teacher she is.”

Harry distinctly knew that wasn't exactly true, as three fifth year Hogwarts students in the 70s were able to do it without anyone ever figuring it out. But he didn't want to let Hermione know about that.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in Animagi, Harry? Is it something you want to become eventually?”

Harry hadn't thought about it, really. He had initially gotten the book he had been reading solely because Ludgar had brought up Animagi, and then they were in that copy of Transfiguration Today he had read at the backup wand shop, and now that he knew Padfoot was actually an Animagus his interest felt meaningful. In some ways it felt like something inevitable. Something important .

But did he want to become one himself? 

He wasn't sure. 

The idea sounds wonderful. Maybe he'd be a bird of some sort and be able to fly without a broom, or maybe he'd be something magnificent and noble like a lion. But there was also the fear that he could end up as something ugly and small like a worm or slug or something.

But then he also remembered Remus’s comment that Animagi are safe around werewolves, and Harry suddenly thought that might be nice if he wasn't something stupid.

“Actually, I think I would.” He said, mostly to himself. If Sirius had become Padfoot then he could probably teach Harry how to do it as well, and Remus probably knew as well, being around the Marauders when they were becoming Animagi themselves.

He’d become closer to Remus and Padfoot in ways that others wouldn’t understand.

I admit, I don't know much about Animagi. Beyond the rough basics. It was never something I was interested in. Probably because I was hesitant to see what I would have become.

Harry would have to read more about it before he committed to the idea, but it would be nice to have a goal academically. 

Get good enough at Transfiguration so he could become an animagus.

It was a good goal and if three fifth years could do it, Harry had faith that maybe he'd be able to as well, especially with one of them living in his trunk.

They walked into McGonagall’s classroom and all took a seat and most of the students, the ones who had been to Divination with him, were avoiding Harry like his dire fate might somehow pull them in as well, and they were gossiping amongst themselves and glancing at Harry such that suddenly he felt like he was still in second year.

It appeared that McGonagall picked up on the miasma hanging over the class as when she transformed into a cat in front of the class, it seemed that only Harry was rather impressed, and maybe Hermione. The rest were seemingly stuck under the pall of Trelawney's prediction.

“What is going on with this class? I usually get some kind of reaction doing this. Applause. The occasional ‘Brilliant’. Something! ” She said after she transformed back into a witch.

“We just came from Divination, Professor.” Hermione said, raising her hand.

McGonagall’s face became exasperated and she looked around and sighed, “Well, which one of you is it then?”

Before anyone could respond she turned and looked at Harry, “It was you, wasn’t it, Mister Potter?” She asked, apparently able to discern that it was him without much trouble.

Harry nodded, “Grim and all, apparently, Professor.” He pulled out his textbook, “But I’m not too concerned. What’s one more death prediction for me, right? I mean, she clearly just said it because I’ve almost died both years I’ve been here. Less prophecy and more likely just an educated guess. That’s like saying ‘I predict Hermione will pass her next test.’” He flipped through the pages without looking as he shrugged up at the professor.

“Well, yes, exactly.” McGonagall looked down at the boy who was smiling softly and talking casually about almost dying. 

“And really, why get worried, you know? If it's real it's not like I can fight fate, and if it's not real, which is far more likely, then getting worked up is pointless. Besides, I have plans now, and I'm not going to get distracted from them because of some stupid prediction someone made just to show off for her first class of the year.”

“Well that's certainly a commendable attitude, Potter. And you're also correct, Sybil Trelawney has made a death prediction about one student every year, and yet none of them have died yet. I shouldn't talk ill of my colleagues, but let me just say that Divination is a very difficult, and oftentimes imprecise, field of study and true Seers are far and few between, and we don’t have a reliable one at our school.”

Harry nodded, feeling better about it now that Professor McGonagall had confirmed what he had figured.

The rest of the class went by quickly, with Harry actually paying attention to what was happening, with Tom helping him with any questions he might have had.

When they made their way towards the Great Hall for lunch, Neville automatically joined them and Harry was glad for that. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he'd grown used to being a trio , and without Ron that dynamic felt lopsided, like Harry had to somehow make up for it.

Neville seemed to just slip right in, as if he had tripped right into the empty spot Ron's leaving had created.

And secretly, Harry was just as sad about that as he was happy. 

He had wanted Ron to apologize. He wanted that apology so things could be the way they were before, but instead it seemed that the break might not heal so easily, and as much as it (secretly) pained him, Harry didn't think he would ever be able to forgive Ron for this, not completely. 

The scar tissue from this fight would linger and ache even if Ron had apologized, and Harry would be left constantly thinking about how secretly, when push came to shove, that Ron believed him a freak and part of him regretted being his friend.

And the worst part was…Harry couldn't even blame him. Not really. 

Deep down, Harry knew he was a freak, and knew that being his friend was dangerous. Deadly even.

He was still furious with Ron for how he treated him and would be for a long time, but in the end he couldn’t blame him. That was why he was trying so hard to not actually fight him about it. If Ron wanted to leave, then Harry felt like he had to let him without holding him closer. He owed that much at the least.

Harry picked at his food, deep in thought about it all. Was that why he hadn't gone and made a lot of friends? He unconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to drag others into his miserable fate?

Or was it because Harry was fundamentally damaged? Because he was a wounded and cracked boy from years of abuse and loneliness, who was only a few more traumas from shattering completely?

The hand the world has dealt you is certainly grim, Harry, but there are people around you who understand this and still wish to be there for you. I cannot speak for the children, but I know that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin know the price of being close to you, and are more than willing to pay it. They care for you…perhaps even love you– but I am not an expert on matters of love, as I'm sure you know, so take that with a dose of Skele-Grow. I know how much you like that.

Harry felt a little better, smiling as he took a sip of his drink.

“It's good to see your friend is back.” Luna said from next to Harry and he nodded, not even surprised that she was there. “Hello to you as well.” He turned and saw her give a small wave near Harry and he wondered what it was like to see him when even Harry couldn't.

She's interesting. You should spend more time with her.

Harry was sure he just liked being seen by someone. Sure, he and Harry were bound together on a spiritual level now, but Luna could see what no one else could.

He wondered what made her different from everyone else. Was it something magical? Or something to do with the way she thought? He wasn't sure.

“Harry? I don't mean to be a worry, but I can't get Professor Trelawney's prediction out of my head.” Neville said softly, his face staring down at the table as he spoke, “I know you and Hermione were raised as Muggles, so you might not realize how wizards see the Grim.” He looked up at Harry, concern in his eyes like a shimmer of light, “Have you seen a Grim recently?”

“Huge black dog that looks like this?” He reached into his bag and pulled out the Death Omens book he had bought, thinking it might have come in handy for Divination.

Neville gasped quietly to himself, barely audible, and nodded.

Harry looked at the cover and smiled warmly, “As a matter of fact, I have.”

Neville suddenly looked terrified, “Harry! That's really bad! Most people die within 24 hours of seeing one! When did you see it?”

“Wait!” Hermione said, a grin on her face as she understood why Harry had been smiling, “Snuffles!”

Harry nodded, “I have a pet dog who looks just like this.”

Neville blinked at the cover and then looked between them, “You have a pet Grim?!”

Harry couldn't help but laugh brightly, leaning back enough that he almost fell backwards out of his seat, catching Professor Lupin’s attention and smiling at him before he turned back to Neville.

Hermione interrupted Harry before he could reply, mirth in her voice as she barely concealed her own snicker, “He may be scary at first– I mean he's huge and has a lot of sharp teeth, but Snuffles is about as dangerous to Harry as a puffskein.”

Harry nodded, “So the idea that a Grim is going to hurt me is ridiculous. If it was a death omen, I would have died about a month ago.”

Neville looked confused, “He's not aggressive?”

“Well not unless you're a threat to me, then he gets protective, but Pa-I mean Snuffles is a sweetheart. He liked letting children pet him at the park, and making people give him food by begging, and he always knows when I'm sad or having bad thoughts and cheers me up. If my very own Grim is like that, I don't have much to worry about from him.”

“You’re right.” Neville popped a bite of food into his mouth, thoughtfully, “I should write Gran though and make sure she's okay though. I don't think I'll feel comfortable until I do that.”

Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, “Here, if you get it done before lunch is over you can head to the owlery before Care of Magical Creatures.”

Neville graciously accepted it and Harry realized he should probably get his own letters done as well before he forgot.

He quickly fished out his parchment and when he was searching for his quill he accidentally poked his finger on the Mind Quill.

Let me write the letter to Gringotts. It'll be quicker to just let me do it. Also you should check your journal. See how your dog-wizard is doing.

Harry nodded mentally, remembering that Tom seemed to have to use magic to use the quill efficiently and would give him enough of his magic to write the letter.

Much appreciated. Though I'm sure the girl will be curious about it. Also, can I have an extra piece of parchment and some more magic? I would like to speak to this Luna girl.

Harry agreed and pulled out an extra piece of parchment and the Mind Quill which immediately began to go to writing, quickly writing in Tom's much more visually appealing handwriting. He also slid the extra piece of parchment over near Luna and the Quill moved from the Gringotts letter over to it quickly and jotted something that Harry couldn't read but Luna pulled out her own quill and wrote something back while the Mind Quill quickly finished up the Gringotts letter.

Letter’s finished, you just need to place a drop of your blood onto the letter and sign it so that it can be verified as you.

Harry couldn't help but feel that Tom wrote that incredibly quickly, but was grateful. He figured that would have taken a lot longer, but was glad it didn't so he'd have time to check the journal. 

He used his quill to draw a drop of blood from his thumb, pressed it near the bottom and signed his name carefully and then folded the letter into shape and used magic to seal it and slipped it into his robe so he could join Neville on his way to the Owlery to give it to Hedwig.

When he pulled out the Twin Journal and opened it, muttering his password near silently as he flipped it open and saw a new entry.

Before you start writing, do you mind if I cast a quick glamour over the journal? I don’t want the girl to see what you’re writing. I don’t trust her.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he was also concerned that Hermione wouldn’t understand what Harry had to keep a secret.

Exactly.

Harry shifted the magic necessary and felt a tingle in the air around him before it settled.

Done. Now you can write to your dog-wizard to your heart's content and it’ll just look like homework to her. Now I’m going back to talking to Luna. She’s actually rather funny. You should really get to know her more.

Harry would worry about that later as he glanced down at the journal which flipped to the most recent entry on its own.

Miss u Harry. Glad you get comfortable with Moony quick. He be good for u. Miss you. See u later?

Harry couldn't help but smile at Padfoot’s earnestness about missing Harry, it made him feel wanted again.

Miss you too Padfoot. Remus is wonderful. I can see why you love him.

Instantly there was a response and Harry felt happy that they were both at the journal at the same time. It was like they were together again, in some way.

I love u Harry. I love Moony. I love both of u. Always. So much.

Padfoot was too good for him, Harry thought to himself and he went back to writing, glancing around out of the corner of his eyes to the others. Luna and presumably Tom were writing back and forth to each other while Neville was still writing his letter to his grandmother, and Hermione was already working on something for Arithmancy, even if she hadn't had the class yet and wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings.

I'm glad you have Remus back, Padfoot. He told me about you two. I’m happy for both of you.

There was a faint delay where Harry could see the quill seem to not move but was touching the page.

Love Moony. Have for long time. Thank u for trusting him. I'm sorry.

What are you sorry for, Padfoot? I'm happy that you're both happier now.

There was another pause.

I never leaf you, Harry. No matter what. Promise.

Harry worked up enough courage to ask something that he had been thinking about since Remus mentioned that Padfoot was an animagus.

Padfoot, can I ever meet Sirius?

I want to, Harry.

The writing was suddenly much more carefully written and the handwriting appeared more fluid and elegant to look at compared to Padfoot’s normal adorably earnest scrawl.

I really do. But I’m ashamed to admit that I'm scared. Please understand that I want nothing more than to be there for you, but trust that for now, Padfoot is all I can do. I love you, Harry, and I promise that soon I'll share that version of myself with you.

Harry had the sudden realization, based on the change in writing quality and tone, that this was not Padfoot.

Instead, this was probably Sirius.

Are you Sirius right now?

Yes.

You promise that I’ll get to meet you one day, Sirius?

I swear it to you, Harry. I’ll explain everything when that time comes. I love you so much, Harry, my precious little pup, we both do. I swear that me and Remus will prove that to you. You are so wonderful and perfect, Harry, and I am so happy that you gave me a chance that night and every night since.

Harry felt like he was all alone in the Great Hall then, like it was suddenly just him and Sirius and everything else faded away.

He touched his fingers to the page and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what Sirius could look like, but finding all he could envision was not visual, but the sensations of warmth and comfort. The same feeling that Padfoot gave him.

He wished he could meet him. Longed for it with all his heart to the point where he struggled to breathe as he wished to meet Sirius. This man he had lived with for a month, who had altered the very axis of Harry's world until he had become Harry’s new north, the star that guided him, who gave Harry purpose to keep living and made him feel safe and loved for the first time for as long as he could remember.

All that mattered to Harry was that Sirius made his life better by simply existing in it. If Sirius was there– if Padfoot was there– then it would all be okay in the end.

“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asked, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

He opened his eyes, looked up, and saw that Hermione looked worried.

“Never better.” He smiled as he ran his fingers across the page, wrapping his heart up in the words written to him alone, “I just thought of something that made me really happy.”

“But you're crying.”

Harry reached up and found she was right, he smiled more and wiped the tears away softly, staring at them fondly. “Huh, you're right.” He couldn't stop his smile from growing more as he wiped a few more tears from his face.

“He's crying because he's happy, Miss Hermione.” Luna said, looking up as she continued to write with Tom. “Mister Harry has things to look forward to now, isn't that right?”

Harry nodded, and glanced down at the page which had a new response.

I will never leave you, Harry, no matter what. I love every single thing about you.

He watched as in real time something else was added onto the end of that response, slowly and hesitantly, as if Sirius was debating on adding it.

Promise you won’t leave me, Harry?

Harry’s hand trembled as he touched it to the page once more.

I promise you, Sirius.

Ever?

Ever.

I love you, Harry.

I love you too, Sirius.

Not as much as I love you. Now you should probably go, I’m rather sure it’s lunch time, and a growing young wizard such as yourself needs all the food he can get. Get Tom to smuggle me some sandwiches. I’m dying for some right now. Oh, and we need a bed soon. I miss sleeping with you. I don’t sleep well without you there. Remus makes it better, but it's not right without you.

Harry smiled brightly at Sirius’s words. Maybe Sirius didn’t hate him after all. And if that was the case, maybe Remus didn’t either.

I get as many as you want, Sirius. Do you want to come with me and look for a bed tonight? Tom showed me a place where there’s a lot of things hidden, including furniture, and I would like you and Remus to see if there’s anything you’d like in there.

I would love that, pup.

Harry realized he liked that nickname a lot. It made him feel special and closer to Sirius. Sirius had left another response a few moments after that when Harry hadn’t replied.

You don’t mind if I call you that, right?

Harry’s quill was instantly on the page writing his answer.

No! I love it!

I’m glad to hear that, pup.

If I’m not there, can we talk through this while you’re Sirius?

Would you like that, Harry?

Yes.

Then I would like that as well. Would you like to know what I’m doing right now?

Yes.

I’m leaning against the side of the cottage in the grass, reading some of your books. I’ve been keeping the journal in front of me in case you wrote to me. I was worried you’d forget about me, with being back at Hogwarts and all. I’m so happy that I was wrong. Oh, and the wand you got me is perfect, pup, it's almost exactly the same as my old one, though I’ll need to break it in to get it to fully listen to me. The curse of a blackthorn wand.

I’m glad that you like it! I was worried that it would be, I don’t know, insulting?

Of course not! It was a wonderful gift, and certainly more than I deserve. How have classes been on your first day?

I almost got into a fight with my Divination professor. She threatened me with detention.

Hah! That’s my boy! How come?

Harry felt a surge of heat run through his blood and go straight to his crotch as he read that, and fidgeted in his seat.

She said I was going to die. That I had “The Grim.” I do have the Grim, and he likes sandwiches, so there’s not much to be worried about. Apparently she does this every year.

Did you really get the Grim, Harry?

Don’t tell me you’re falling for that as well. Her predictions are bollocks. Tom and McGonagall both say she is a fraud. Besides, I like the idea of having my own personal Grim. Like a guardian.

I would protect you, Harry. From everything if you wanted me to. You need only ask.

You’ve already saved me, Sirius. Without you I don’t know how I could keep going.

That makes me so happy to hear, Harry. What class do you have next?

Care of Magical Creatures.

Oh! Old Silvanus is a good teacher, at least that's what James used to tell me! I honestly didn’t care for the class myself. I took Divination, and Ancient Runes back when I was in Hogwarts. He’s a little out there, but good from what I’ve been told.

Actually he retired this year. It’s Hagrid teaching now.

Hagrid? They have Hagrid, of all people, teaching? Is he really even qualified? I’m surprised the parents are okay with that considering Hagrid didn’t even graduate. Well that’s–

He stopped writing and Harry was left wondering what he was going to say.

Well, I think that’s probably not the best idea.

Why’s that?

Harry was confused. Hagrid was a good man, and he was sure he’d be a great teacher.

Okay, maybe he was hoping he would be a good teacher, but still.

Hagrid’s a nice fellow and all–

There was another pause.

Okay, fine, I really don’t like Hagrid. You don’t deserve me lying to you.

Why? Did something happen?

He never really trusted me due to my family, even when we were in the Order together. Apparently, in the end, no one did. Then when, well. Let’s just say that he’s the reason I didn’t get to raise you like I should have.

What do you mean?

I was there that night, when James and Lily were killed. I had come to save them but was too late. I wanted to take you away. To protect you. But Albus had sent Hagrid to retrieve you and he wouldn’t let me take you no matter what I said. I had trusted them both, so I gave him my motorcycle so he could bring you to safety while I went and hunted down PETER .

Harry could see the anger in the very word “Peter.” Sirius’s handwriting grew sharp, angular, and filled with visible hatred and Harry shivered; half in fear, and half in some twisted arousal.

If he had given you to me…I wouldn’t have been arrested. I wouldn’t have been sent to Azkaban. You wouldn’t have been raised by the Dursleys and would have been loved your whole life.

Harry felt a spike of anger at that knowledge. That in some way Hagrid was part of the reason why Harry’s childhood had been spent lonely, miserable, and scared.

He could have had Sirius there the whole time, but Hagrid, and by extension Professor Dumbledore had deprived them of that.

I shouldn’t have said anything, Harry. I apologize.

No. I’m glad you told me. He never said anything about it to me. If I had been with you, you would have brought me to Diagon Alley when I was eleven, wouldn’t you?

I would have been there when you got your letter and brought you to get your first wand. I would have flown with you on a broom when I’d be teaching you about Quidditch, and snuck you butterbeer when Remus wasn’t looking. I’d carry you on my shoulders and play games with you, and me and Remus would have taught you so much magic before you went to school that everyone would be jealous of you. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to, Harry. You deserved so much more than what you were given.

Harry felt the anger settle around his heart like a chain, settling into it heavily. He could have been happy .

I wish we could have done that, Sirius. I would have loved it.

I would have as well, pup. In my cell, sometimes I would imagine scenarios like that when the Dementors were away. Little snippets of what my life would have been like had I raised you. They made me so happy, Harry, before the Dementors would come take that away too, like how James and Remus were taken from me, like how you were taken from me.

Suddenly some of the ink in the response blurred and Harry knew what it was. Sirius was crying and his tears were spilling onto the page, mixing with the fresh ink.

Harry touched his fingers to where the tears were falling and wished he was there so he could hug Sirius and let him know he wasn’t alone. That he and Remus would be there for him, just as he was there for them.

I’m sorry, Harry. Please forget what I’ve been saying. I’m sure Hagrid’s been nothing but nice to you. This is part of the reason why I don’t like being Sirius. I say things I shouldn’t and it hurts so much. I love you so much, pup, that it hurts. More than I should. Please stay safe. And come visit me later?

I promise I will, Sirius.

Good. Love u Harry. U should get to class now. Don’t forget sandwiches please.

It was Padfoot again, and Harry felt a complicated mix of happiness that it was Padfoot, and immense sadness that Sirius was gone once more.

I love you too, Padfoot. I promise I won’t forget. I’ll be thinking about you all day.

Good! We play tonight! I convince Remus to go on run with us! We be happy together. All 3 of us. Family. Love u Harry. Smell good. Don’t feel as lonely when I smell ur clothes. Maybe I sleep now. Maybe play with Moony between class.

Harry swallowed heavily as he knew that Padfoot wasn’t able to talk anymore. Harry hadn’t meant to bring up bad thoughts and the thought that he had made him ache.

He’ll be okay, Harry. He just needs time to process the trauma of Azkaban. He’s still recovering as he’s only been out for a little more than a month. But the fact that he spoke with you as Sirius shows how much he cares for you. He’ll be better once he sleeps, and I can send a note to the werewolf to bring him chocolate and food when he heads back to class to help him, if you would like that?

Harry nodded, closing the journal tenderly and slipping it back into his bag and pulled out another parchment for Tom to us, the Mind Quill flicking over from the page it was writing to Luna on, and quickly jotting down a well worded message to Professor Lupin, informing him of how Padfoot was feeling and letting him know that he should check on him when he got the chance, then returned back to speaking with Luna.

The note folded itself up into a small dog and jumped off the table and was off towards Professor Lupin.

I figured it was apropos given the three of you. The dog-wizard, the werewolf teacher, and the horny puppy. Some holy trinity you three are. I wonder who would pray at your temple.

Harry blushed, despite everything else, at Tom’s vulgar insinuation, but he wasn’t wrong. He watched carefully, almost losing the note in the hustle and bustle until he could see it hop into Remus’s lap.

He could see the Professor look at it, a curious tilt of his head before he glanced up at Harry with a smirk, though when he read the note Harry could see his face grown downcast and when he looked back up at Harry it was sad and questioning.

He was looking for Harry’s confirmation and a single nod of the head was all he needed to start packing his stuff up as the bell suddenly rang and Remus was out the faculty door.

Harry wanted nothing more than to skip Care of Magical Creatures, first day be damned, to go check on Padfoot with him, but he couldn’t, so he just hoped that Remus would be able to help Padfoot until Harry could go be with him after class.

Don’t worry, Harry. Sirius Black escaped Azkaban all on his own, he can handle a few hours away from you, just as you’ve faced down a homicidal memory who sent a basilisk after you, you can handle waiting a bit longer as well. Go to class, act normal, it’s better for all three of you that you appear normal. Well, as normal as you can seem. Now, you said you’d smuggle sandwiches for him, so get at least one of each type while no one’s paying attention.

Harry knew that was for the best. The more he acted oddly, the more people might be inclined to start looking into what he was up to. The more people looking into what he was up to, the greater the chance of Sirius being revealed. He quickly slipped sandwiches into his robes and let the familiar feeling of Tom’s magic vanish them from sight.

It seemed that Neville had finished his letter as well, holding it up with a proud look on his face and folding it carefully. Incredibly carefully in fact as if the act of folding and sealing the letter was something he had been trained to do, carefully folding each edge to a perfect, crisp line, each corner lined up perfectly– something Harry still struggled with– and Harry had seen Neville’s handwriting, nearly immaculate, and when he sealed the letter with magically conjured wax that he pressed a small ring that Harry had never noticed before into the soft wax, leaving it sealed.

Harry wondered what that was about, but decided he’d ask about it later.

Hermione had seemingly finished up whatever Arithmancy work she had been up to and Luna was smiling warmly at the piece of paper she and Tom had been writing on together.

“I’ll join you two at the Owlery. I was able to get a bunch of magazine subscriptions for you from some of the other students. I’ll just need your signature for them and we can send them off with Hedwig.” Hermione said, pulling out a few slips of paper and handing them to Harry, seeing them being for the magazines that they had talked about yesterday.

“I should head to my own class now. It was nice talking with you.” She said, and Harry was wondering if she was talking about him, or Tom, but regardless Harry waved his goodbye.

The trio quickly made their way up to the Owlery, joining a few other students who had their own letters to send out, carefully maneuvering up the tower, and being sure not to slip.

It wasn’t that hard to find Hedwig. She liked to hang around with the other owls when she wasn’t in Harry’s room, and when she saw him she came flying over to him happily, landing on his outstretched arm and pecking lovingly at Harry’s hand.

He handed her the letter to Gringotts and the various magazine subscriptions and he could see her look at him skeptically. He petted her and pulled out a piece of jerky he had tucked away during lunch which she greedily chomped down on, taking the letters after affectionately nuzzling Harry and then flying away as Hermione reminded them that they needed to get to class quickly.

The three of them ran, Harry leading the way with Hermione clutching her books and her bag while Neville scrambled after the two of them clumsily, but Harry made sure not to leave him behind.

Soon enough they were joining a group of Gryffindors and Slytherins heading down to Hagrid’s hut, and Harry knew the class was going to be miserable if the Slytherins were there as well.

Once they approached Hagrid’s Hut, Harry noticed Ron, Dean, and Seamus laughing about something together.

Harry felt an intense wave of anger when he saw Ron chatting with Dean and Seamus, but made sure not to show it. He was determined to not let Ron know that his behaviour was affecting him at all.

He also saw Draco hanging around with his little gang of Slytherins, and when they saw Harry they began to laugh and make loud noises he was sure was them attempting to make fun of him fainting from the Dementor.

Harry ignored them too. It was ironically easier to ignore Draco Malfoy than it was to ignore Ron. At least with Draco he knew what to expect and the overwhelming feeling of betrayal didn’t surface again every time that he saw Draco, instead it was a resigned sort of irritated boredom that the Slytherin was going to act as he always was– obnoxious, self-centered, and all around unpleasant to be around.

Everyone was carrying their copies of The Monster Book Of Monsters , and like Harry's own copy they all had theirs shut tight, some bound with belts, others with spellotape, and he was sure he saw one Slytherin's book literally chained shut.

He suddenly felt better never having tried to open his, especially after seeing them trying to tear each other apart at Flourish and Blotts yesterday.

They were hanging around waiting for Hagrid to show up when suddenly Harry heard him.

“Okay, gather round. Come on ‘ere.” Harry turned and saw the half-giant come strolling out of his hut and approach the group of kids.

Harry approached Hagrid hesitantly. Normally he would have been glad that out of all the teachers– barring Remus– Hagrid was probably the best one he could have had for his first day, but Sirius’s words were sticking around in his head and he couldn’t help but look at the man with new eyes– angry eyes.

“Does everyone have their books?” He asked.

The entire class looked at their variously bound books with apprehension and Harry was even more glad that he hadn't tried to open his yet because whatever the others had gone through with their copies, Harry had fortunately avoided.

“Hasn't… Hasn't anyone been able to open them?”