What felt like barely fifteen minutes after he'd gone to bed, Harry was awoken by the chime of Ron's alarm clock, and a knock on the door. Mrs Weasley crept inside, smiling when she saw Harry was blinking himself awake. "Time to get up, dear," she whispered, moving to shake Ron, who was sleeping soundly through the alarm. At the foot of Harry's bed, two indistinct shapes were shuffling around. Harry reached for his glasses, seeing the twins sit up with identical groggy stretches, silhouetted in the dark. Even the sun wasn't up yet.
They dressed silently, too sleepy to attempt conversation, and shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen. "Where're the others?" Ron asked through a yawn. Mr Weasley looked up.
"The girls will be down in a minute. The other boys are old enough to apparate, so they get a bit of a lie in." He stood up, holding his arms out with a grin. "What do you think? Do I look like a muggle? We're supposed to go incognito."
He was wearing a golf jumper and a pair of baggy jeans that looked older than Harry was. "Very good," Harry approved, grinning.
Hermione and Ginny stumbled in, slumping into chairs as Mrs Weasley began to ladle out porridge for everyone. Mr Weasley say back down and shuffled through some pieces of parchment, counting them; their tickets, Harry assumed.
"Eat up, we've got a bit of a walk," Mr Weasley told them, pocketing the tickets. Ginny looked up at him blearily.
"Walk?" she repeated, unimpressed.
"To the portkey," Mr Weasley explained. "With so many people going to the same place, they could only put out a certain number of portkeys. It's why we're up so early, I'm afraid," he added to Harry and Hermione. "Scheduled departure time and all."
"I've done worse for airport runs," Hermione assured him, rubbing at her eyes. His eyes lit up.
"I've always wondered what that was like, flying on an air-plane," he started.
"George!" Mrs Weasley said sharply, making them all jump. It was far too early for sudden loud noises. "What is that in your pockets?"
"Nothing!" The answer came too quickly. Mrs Weasley scowled, and with a quick summoning charm several brightly coloured objects were zooming into her outstretched hand. Harry braced himself for the tirade, seeing Ron do the same across the table. Several more charms had the sweets flying from all sorts of unexpected places, including the turn-ups of Fred's jeans, Mrs Weasley yelling at them all the while.
If Harry had known they were trying to smuggle them out of the house, he would've offered his services!
After a somewhat frosty goodbye from the Weasley matriarch, they were setting off across the grass by the light of the moon. Harry sped up to walk beside Mr Weasley. "So where's this portkey leaving from, then?" He'd never used a portkey before, but Remus had taught him about them over the summer.
"Stoatshead Hill," Mr Weasley replied, pointing to the land mass rising up in front of them. "There's about two hundred portkeys all over Britain for this, and this is our nearest."
Climbing Stoatshead Hill at the best of times was probably quite the ordeal, but in the dark it was a minefield of rabbit holes and unexpected rocks. All of them were breathless and a little sweaty by the time they reached the top, and Harry saw two silhouettes across the hilltop. "Over here, Arthur!"
"Amos!" Mr Weasley greeted brightly, striding towards the pair and shaking the taller one's hand warmly. As they grew closer, Harry made out the other figure as Cedric Diggory, his brown hair windswept and his cheeks flushed. "Kids, this is Amos Diggory, and I believe you know his son."
"Hi Cedric!" Harry said cheerfully, once it became clear the twins were not going to do so. The rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team still held a grudge against the Hufflepuff seeker for the match last year, even though Harry had told them to let it go.
"Hiya, Harry. Hi, everyone," Cedric added with a quick wave. Hermione and Ginny both giggled quietly. It was a common reaction around Cedric Diggory, Harry had noticed. He didn't really blame them; the Hufflepuff was very handsome.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos asked companionably. "We had to get up at two! I'll be glad when he's got his apparition license, I swear. I can't side-along to save my life; I'd splinch us both."
"Only a month away, Dad," Cedric offered supportively. Amos chuckled.
"It's alright, lad. It's worth it for this! Blimey, Arthur," he added, looking around at the gathered crowd. "Don't tell me all these are yours?"
"Oh, no, only the redheads," Mr Weasley assured. "Harry and Hermione are Ron's friends. But I've got three more old enough to apparate themselves."
Amos' eyes moved to Harry, and Harry mentally counted down as soon as he saw the man's eyes flick to his forehead. "Merlin's beard! Harry Potter!" His eyes went wide. "Ced's told me all about you, of course! I said to him, I said, Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren! You beat Harry Potter at quidditch!"
Cedric winced, giving Harry an apologetic glance. "I told you, Dad, there were dementors, it wasn't a fair match."
"Oh, you Hufflepuffs!" Amos dismissed, clapping his son on the shoulder. "It doesn't take a genius to see who's the better flier when one man falls off his broom and the other stays on! Eh, Harry?"
"I mean, if you'd like to try playing quidditch while listening to your mother's screams as she's murdered in front of you," Harry retorted evenly, "by all means, be my guest."
That took the wind out of Amos' sails, and there were several long, awkward seconds of silence before Mr Weasley coughed. "Do you know if we're waiting for any more, Amos? Must be nearly time."
"No, no, it's just us," Amos replied, somewhat stilted.
"We'd best get ready, then. Gather round, everyone."
The portkey turned out to be an old boot, and it took them a minute to get situated so that all nine of them were stood in a tight circle, each with a hand on the boot. They waited as the sun slowly began to rise, Mr Weasley offering a countdown until—
Harry felt like a hook was jerking him from the navel, and suddenly his feet left the ground, Ron and Hermione slamming into his shoulders on either side as they sped upwards in a swirl of colour and wind. It all ended abruptly, his feet slamming into the earth, and he almost kept his balance until Ron staggered into him, knocking him to the ground. Cedric offered him a hand up, grinning sheepishly. "Easy there, Harry." He brushed some dirt off Harry's arm. "Look, I'm sorry about my dad," he said under his breath. "I've tried talking to him, but he's just—"
"It's fine," Harry insisted. "Really. He's proud of you, it's nice." Cedric gave a half-grimace.
"We still on for that rematch?" he checked. Harry nodded keenly.
"Absolutely. See you later, yeah?" he added once he realised they were parting ways. "Enjoy the match."
He waved Cedric off, and as soon as they turned away he found himself accosted on either side by a Weasley twin. "You're getting awfully cosy with Diggory there, Harry," Fred muttered. It took Harry a second to realise what he was implying, and he blushed bright red.
"We're friends! He's a nice guy. He feels really bad about the match still, you should let up on him."
George eyed him doubtfully. "Hmm. Still. Bill's better looking."
Harry spluttered. They had noticed that! He covered his face with his hands, mortified. "Don't worry about it, Harry!" Fred said, nudging him in the ribs with a grin. "Our big brother's very fanciable." He wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "Bit old for you, mind, but whatever makes you happy."
"I don't fancy your brother!" he hissed in an aggressive whisper, sure he'd never been redder in his life. He glanced around to check the others weren't listening. "I don't," he repeated insistently. The twins shared a skeptical look.
"Sure," they said in sarcastic unison. Harry glared at them. He didn't even like boys like that!
Okay. That was a bit of a lie.
And Bill was really attractive.
But that didn't mean Harry fancied him! He could think people were hot without fancying them. Besides, he much preferred blondes…
His cheeks burned when he realised what he'd thought. Where had that come from??
Either way, he wasn't interested in Bill Weasley. He was basically family!
"What are you three whispering about back there?" Ron asked suspiciously as Mr Weasley finished paying the muggle campsite manager, heading off into the field.
"None of your business!" the twins retorted cheerfully. Ron scowled at them.
Harry could hardly believe some of the tents they walked past, each more elaborate than the next. Wizards were ridiculous! The tents Mr Weasley had borrowed were much more ordinary-looking, and Harry shared a glance with Hermione when they walked in, wide-eyed at the space inside.
"I love magic," he muttered, and she giggled, nodding in agreement.
He, Ron and Hermione were sent off to find water in short order. Harry wasn't sure why they couldn't just conjure some, but Mr Weasley seemed determined to have as much of the muggle camping experience as possible. It was still pretty early, so there weren't many people up and about, but the more they walked the more the campground began to come to life. Harry could see several familiar faces; it looked like half of Hogwarts had managed to get tickets!
While Ron and Hermione were talking to Seamus and Dean, Harry caught sight of Ernie Macmillan, and waved cheerfully, jogging over to the stocky Hufflepuff. "Hi, Ernie! Good summer?" he asked, as if he hadn't been owling the other boy semi-regularly.
"Oh, y'know, not bad," Ernie replied. "Yourself?"
"It's been great," Harry replied. "Got to learn a bit about my family. Get to know some new friends a little better," he said vaguely. Ernie's smile widened.
"Excellent, excellent. Glad to hear it. I've got to get going, but we'll catch up properly at school, yeah?" Harry nodded, letting the Hufflepuff get on with his morning. He hurried back to Ron and Hermione, who were just finishing up their conversation.
"Who were you talking to, Harry?" Ron asked as they walked, and Harry shrugged.
"Just some people from school. Oh, look, there's the tap."
On the way back, Harry was almost bowled over by Oliver Wood, who jumped on his back in greeting and ruffled his hair, dragging him towards his tent to introduce Harry to his parents. "Charlie told me the news, by the way. That's amazing, Oliver, congratulations!"
Oliver glowed with pride. "Thanks, Harry. You'll have to come to a match once the season starts back up!" Just then, a familiar head ducked out of the tent beside Oliver's family. "Oliver, I swear, are you going on about Puddlemere again?" He looked up and blinked at the sight of Harry. "Potter!"
It was Cassius Warrington, one of Harry's tentative new allies. "Warrington," he greeted neutrally, unsure exactly how to interact with the older boy in public, though they'd been writing all summer. He glanced between the two. "Are you two friends or something?" He hadn't thought they knew each other outside of quidditch rivalry. The pair shared a look, glancing away quickly.
"Nah, just coincidence," Oliver dismissed. "Randomly assigned campsites, y'know? Anyway, I don't want to keep you too long. Write to me when you're back at school, yeah? I want to know what the new keeper ends up like."
Harry bid the two farewell, still eyeing them bemusedly.
Eventually, they made it back to their campsite, which seemed to have gained a few more members. The eldest three Weasley boys had arrived, and Bill and Charlie seemed to have amassed a crowd of their own.
"You guys took ages!" Fred complained, taking the water from Ron.
"Met a few people," Ron replied with a wave of his hand. "Dad still not got the fire going?"
"He's having fun with matches," George said. They turned to see the man, sat surrounded by spent matches, and Hermione let out a fond sigh.
"I'll help." She sat down beside him, gently taking the matchbox.
Harry left her to it, wandering over to Bill and Charlie's group curiously. He didn't recognise any of them; presumably they were friends the older Weasleys had at Hogwarts.
"Alright, Harry?" Charlie greeted companionably, beckoning him closer. "We're having a bit of a reunion. Harry, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Harry Potter."
"I thought you were taking the piss when you said you knew Harry Potter!" a blond man blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately. Charlie laughed.
"Nah, he's mates with all the younger ones," he replied, gesturing to his scattered siblings. "Mum's basically adopted him," Bill agreed, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Don't mind André, Harry. He gets a bit star-struck."
"Wotcher, Harry!" A woman with bright green pixie-cut hair waved at him. "I'm Tonks." That prompted a round of introductions, and Harry only remembered about three names, but they quickly moved on to talking about people and events that Harry didn't know, reminiscing their old Hogwarts days, and Harry discreetly excused himself from the conversation, heading over to where Mr Weasley now had the fire going.
Bill and Charlie's friends didn't stick around much longer, all having other places to be, and the two eldest Weasley boys rejoined the family in time for lunch, while Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary of people he knew walking by. Percy emerged from the tent at the smell of food, muttering about how much work he still had to do.
They were joined by Ludo Bagman, and later Barty Crouch, and Harry hadn't realised just how many people at the Ministry Mr Weasley was friends with. Harry tried to stay out of the conversations the best he could, listening in interest but trying not to draw attention to himself; after spending the summer thus far with only three people, all of whom couldn't give two shits about his scar or celebrity status, it was exhausting having to go through the Famous Harry Potter fuss with every other person who stopped by.
Several hints were dropped about what was happening at Hogwarts this year — mostly by Percy Weasley, who seemed all too smug to know something his younger siblings didn't. Harry merely hid his smile, pretending to be just as oblivious as his friends. They'd find out soon enough.
At last, it was time to head to the match. Harry was surprised to hear they were up in the top box, making him wonder exactly what kind of favours Mr Weasley had called in — and how many times he might've dropped that he was planning on bringing Harry Potter with him. It made something uneasy settle in his stomach; sure, he was glad to be going to the cup, and glad that all the Weasleys got to go too, but the idea that someone he trusted was using his name to curry favours without his consent made him feel a little bit sick. Harry put the thought out of his mind, determined not to let anything put a damper on his enjoyment of the day. Even Ron's whining about not having enough money to afford souvenirs. He was at the final of the Quidditch World Cup, and nothing would bring him down. He wouldn't let it.
.-.-.-.
The match was incredible.
Things got off to a bit of a rocky start in the top box, when Minister Fudge arrived and immediately started showing Harry off to the Bulgarian Minister like some sort of national landmark. Harry's name had definitely been involved in getting ten top box tickets. Then the Malfoys arrived, and Ron immediately started making disparaging remarks about Draco. Harry, who had brightened up slightly at the sight of the blond, merely had to settle for making pointed eye contact with both him and Narcissa, and glaring at Lucius Malfoy when he mocked Mr Weasley quietly.
However, Bagman arrived and quickly kicked things off, and from there it was fantastic. Harry didn't get all starry-eyed over the veela unlike most of the other boys — he noted Draco didn't either, staying in his seat with a look of mild entertainment. Ron would've dived off the edge of the box if Hermione hadn't yanked him back to his seat by his collar.
The entire stadium could've been filled with veela and Harry wouldn't have noticed once the match began. He kept the Omnioculars pressed to his face for most of the match, watching eagerly as the players zoomed around the pitch and passed at frightening speeds. The Irish chasers really were a force to be reckoned with, but it was Viktor Krum Harry couldn't keep his eyes off. The man's flying was incredible.
Both seekers looked a right mess when they made it up to the top box for the award ceremony. Harry watched the players in awe, wondering exactly how one went about becoming a professional quidditch player.
That would be a pretty cool career…
The entire campground was a riot of celebrations when they headed back to their tents; even the tents decorated in Bulgarian red and black seemed to have decided to join in the fun and celebrate a snitch well caught. The Weasley family celebration was a little more subdued, but Charlie still pulled a crate of butterbeer from somewhere — and a bottle of firewhiskey for the adults. The twins tried to sneak some, but Bill was used to his brothers' tricks, and hexed them so all their fingers were stuck together at the tips. It was only when Ginny fell asleep at the table and knocked over her hot chocolate that Mr Weasley declared it bedtime, sending the girls off to their tent. Harry wondered how all his other schoolmates were celebrating; was there a big group of Hogwarts students out there somewhere, cheering and singing under the firework-strewn sky? He was surprised the older Weasley boys weren't off celebrating with their friends, but he supposed they didn't see their younger siblings all that often. Harry was glad for the extra company; Bill and Charlie were a lot like the twins, and it was great fun having them around.
Harry crawled into his bed with a yawn— only to bolt upright seconds later when an earsplitting scream echoed from outside the tent. That was not a scream of joy.
He and Ron rushed into the living room, where all the other boys were stood looking alarmed. "What was that?" Percy asked cautiously. Several more screams rang out, and it sounded like huge groups of people were running. Mr Weasley hurried back into the tent, face pale in the dim light.
"Death Eaters," he declared grimly, and the eldest three Weasleys cursed. Harry felt sick.
"Are you sure?" Bill asked urgently, already grabbing his wand. Charlie and Percy were doing the same.
"Positive. Kids, hurry — grab your jackets and get outside, now. I'm going to get the girls." Mr Weasley left again, and Harry ran to grab a jacket and his boots, double checking his wand was safe in its holster. He, Ron and the twins ran outside the tent, skidding to a halt when they saw the chaos outside. People were fleeing from a group of people in robes and masks, spells flashing and drunken jeering echoing behind the screams. Above the masked group was… oh God. The muggle who ran the campground, and his family. The masked wizards were levitating them high in the air, flipping the woman over and laughing when her nightdress rode up.
Hermione and Ginny emerged from their tents, horror immediately setting in on their faces. A second later, the three eldest Weasley boys stepped out, fully dressed and wands out, their sleeves rolled up. "We're going to help the Ministry," Mr Weasley shouted over the noise. "You lot get into the woods, and stick together! I'll come fetch you when it's safe. Fred, George, look after your sister," he added, getting two grave nods before he was off following his eldest sons towards the chaos.
Fred grabbed Ginny by the hand, tugging her towards the woods. Together they all sprinted for safety, falling in with the crowds of fleeing people.
The rest of the night was a blur.
They lost track of Ginny and the twins within minutes, but Harry knew the twins would keep the youngest Weasley safe. He and Hermione went to light the way, at which point Ron realised he'd lost his wand. "I have to go back and look for it!" he insisted. "Mum and Dad'll kill me if they have to get me another one." He started walking against the flow of traffic, and Hermione looked at Harry with a mix of fear and exasperation.
"Ronald!" she called, hurrying after him. Harry made to follow, but a flash of blond caught his eye.
"Malfoy," he called, aware he was in public. Draco, who was leaning against a tree and watching things through a gap in the woods, turned with raised eyebrows.
"Potter. Don't tell me you're out alone in this?" There was a hint of concern in his voice. Harry edged closer, keeping an eye out for his friends.
"Ron and Hermione are back there. Ron lost his wand."
"Idiot," Draco muttered, shaking his head.
"Are you alright?" Harry met his gaze, looking past his unaffected facade to the worry deep in his grey eyes. "Where's your mother?"
Draco's lip quivered. "Father insisted she stay by his side." His words were stiff, and comprehension dawned on Harry. He stared at him in horror.
"She's not— they're not—" Draco nodded. His parents were out there in masks, hurting the muggles and causing chaos. Hailing Voldemort.
"He wouldn't take no for an answer. The only reason he let me go is that I'm underage."
Uncaring that anyone could walk by them, Harry reached out and grabbed Draco's hand, squeezing tight. "She'll be okay," he said, wishing he could promise that. Draco looked down at their interlocked fingers, then back up at Harry. "She's been through this before. She knows how to blend in with a group like that. She'll be fine."
Slowly, Draco nodded.
There was the crack of a twig snapping, and a muffled cry that could only be Ron. Harry let go of Draco's hand quickly, stepping back. "You alright there, Ron?" he called out.
"There you are, Harry! Yeah, fine, just tripped on a root. No sign of my wand."
"With feet that big, I'm not surprised," Draco drawled, his Ice Prince mask firmly back in place. It made something in Harry's chest twist painfully.
"Malfoy," Ron growled. "What are you doing here?"
Harry tried to stop the exchange descending into a brawl, taking Draco's veiled warning and ushering Hermione deeper into the woods, urging Ron to leave Draco alone. "You don't even have your wand, you can't hex him," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but you could," Ron retorted. "Merlin, Mum's gonna be furious if I can't find it."
"I'm sure it's back in the tent," Hermione said, though she sounded doubtful.
They kept walking, keeping an eye out for the twins and Ginny, and almost lost Ron to three veela in the woods. When they reached a small clearing, Harry suggested they stop and wait.
That was where everything went wrong.
Soon, he found himself staring up in horror at the enormous skull and snake hovering in the sky; the Dark Mark, in all its glory. They barely managed to make it a few steps away before they were surrounded by Ministry wizards, ducking a barrage of stunning spells. Harry instinctively had his wand in his hand when he got to his feet, though there was no need; Mr Weasley was running through the crowd, yelling for the wizards to leave them alone.
What followed was the most disastrous attempt at an investigation Harry had had the misfortune to witness; in the back of his mind was a voice that sounded awfully like Snape, calling everyone dunderheads and imbeciles as the wizards proceeded to accuse three teenagers — one of whom was Harry Potter — of conjuring Voldemort's sigil, followed by Mr Crouch's house elf. Harry's heart broke for the poor elf he'd seen in the top box earlier, watching her sob as her master dismissed her. Sirius had taught him about house elves when he'd asked about Ceri; they needed to be bonded to houses, or their magic would start to go wonky and make them sick. They'd die if they stayed free for too long. Harry wished he'd known that when he'd freed Dobby. Then again, he doubted whatever happened to a free elf could be any worse than working for Lucius Malfoy. Ron's wand being used to cast the Mark didn't do them any favours, but they eventually got it all sorted out and made it back to their tents, where luckily the rest of the Weasley family were waiting mostly unharmed. Bill had a cut across his cheek and Percy's right sleeve was a little charred, but other than that they were fine. Ginny was chalk-white, tucked into Charlie's side.
They gathered in the bigger tent, no one willing to tell the girls to go back to bed after that ordeal. The trio ended up sharing what had happened to them, and Ron asked about the Dark Mark, not understanding why it was such a big deal. Harry stayed silent through Mr Weasley's explanation, but forgot to pretend to be unaware of such things — all the things Snape and Remus had taught him over the summer, about the first rise of Voldemort and why it was such a bad sign that Snape's Dark Mark was hurting again. Mr Weasley shot Harry an odd look when he didn't react to Bill's remark that the crowd was obviously Death Eaters who had lied to keep themselves out of Azkaban. Harry covered it with a yawn, hoping the man would just believe he was zoning out due to exhaustion. It had been one hell of a day.
They were all sent to bed shortly after, though Harry lay awake for a long while, listening to Charlie's soft snores. He wished there were a little more privacy in the tent; he had the two way mirror in his bag, and he was desperate to talk to Sirius and tell him what happened. He'd no doubt find out from the Prophet in the morning. If Snape didn't know already. Had he been part of the group? To keep his cover? Harry's nerves tied knots in his guts as he squeezed his eyes shut, imagining Remus staying up late worried about his partner, Sirius pacing the living room and demanding to go check Harry was okay. He'd call them in the morning, as soon as he could get some time to himself.
.-.-.-.
They'd only had a few hours sleep when Mr Weasley woke them all up, and soon they were packed and trudging back to the crowded portkey departure point.
Mrs Weasley was waiting anxiously when they returned, rushing forward to meet them at the garden gate. She threw herself into her husband's arms, before hugging each of her children in turn, then Harry and Hermione. "Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried! The paper said there were bodies, oh, you're alive!" She doubled back to hug the twins, sobbing about having yelled at them before they left.
Breakfast was a somber affair, Mr Weasley and Percy barely staying long enough to wolf down some toast before they headed into the Ministry to start dealing with the aftermath. Harry didn't know who Rita Skeeter was, but he already didn't like her; that article was causing more fear and worry than the Death Eaters themselves!
He got his chance to slip away when the other Weasleys decided to start up a game of quidditch in the garden. Promising to be out in a minute, he hurried up to Ron's room and dug through his backpack for the two-way mirror. "Sirius Black," he said quickly — it was barely a second before Sirius' worried face filled the glass. He'd obviously been waiting for the call.
"Harry! Are you alright? Remus, it's Harry!" There was a beat, and Remus' face squeezed in beside Sirius', Sirius having to hold the mirror a little further out so they could both see.
"I'm fine, everything's fine," Harry assured hurriedly.
"What happened? The Prophet article was full of so much bullshit it's hard to tell what the truth is," Sirius said, ignoring the scolding look Remus gave him for swearing.
Harry gave the pair a quick summary of the night's events, including the events with Crouch's elf and the Dark Mark.
"Barty Crouch has always been a heartless bastard," Sirius growled, his eyes dark. "You're sure you're alright?"
"Completely, I promise," Harry insisted. He wished he could reach through the mirror and hug his godfather; he'd gotten far too used to the easy affection over the summer. "Sirius, you have to send a letter to Mrs Malfoy. I— Lucius was part of the group, and Draco said he made her be part of it too."
Sirius and Remus shared a grim look.
"I'll ask Severus to check in on her," Remus promised. "He's away at the moment, doing some damage control."
"He wasn't there last night, was he?" Harry asked, relieved when Remus shook his head.
"No, he was home. Had no idea about it all until it was too late. Obviously they were only involving people who were already at the cup."
"Who could have cast the Dark Mark?"
Both adults shrugged, and Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "It could've been any number of people. We'll look into things, but don't dwell on it too much, alright pup? Enjoy the rest of your summer, leave this to the adults." He let out a long sigh. "Merlin, I'm so glad you're safe."
"I miss you," Harry confessed in a whisper. "All of you." Even Snape, to his surprise.
"We miss you too, cub," Remus replied. "It's been far too quiet without you around. Except for the fireworks Sirius let off in the entrance hall," he added with a reprimanding look. Sirius grinned, giving an over-exaggerated innocent face.
Harry knew they were just trying to cheer him up, but he couldn't help but laugh all the same. "I should go, the others will be wondering what's taking me so long." He'd told them he was going to the bathroom. They probably thought he'd fallen in.
"Let us know if anything else happens. Keep in touch, and have a good week. We love you, pup." Sirius kissed his fingers, pressing them to the mirror's surface. Harry's heart clenched.
He reluctantly ended the call, taking a minute to compose himself before tucking the mirror back in his bag and heading out to the garden with his broom in hand, plastering a smile on his face when he saw the Weasley siblings already airborne, Hermione reading a book on the grass below. "There you are, mate! We've been waiting for you!" Ron called, waving him over. Harry kicked off into the sky, trying to leave his worries on the ground. There was nothing he could do about it all now. .-.-.-.
Severus returned home just in time for dinner, and the first thing Remus said was that they'd heard from Potter. "He's fine, they're all fine," he assured. Severus felt the dread inside him build with every word as Remus relayed what had happened in the woods.
"Narcissa is well," he informed his partner and Black when Remus mentioned Harry's worries. He'd been to see her and Draco earlier, while Lucius was at the Ministry. "Shaken, but well. She was indeed part of the group involved in the muggle-baiting. She believes the whole thing was Lucius' idea — or at least, he was involved in the planning. She said he didn't tell her a thing beforehand, but he knew exactly where to go when it started." It was exactly the sort of thing Lucius Malfoy would do, wanting to cause chaos and horror at such a public event. If he and the other loyal Death Eaters were getting the same signs he was, they would of course get braver and bolder in their hateful acts. If they believed the Dark Lord was on his way to returning, they would want to drum up as much fear as possible before that day arrived. "This is only the beginning, you realise."
The two Gryffindors looked grim, hardly touching their dinner. "Snape," Black said eventually. "I know we have a difficult history." Severus snorted; that was the biggest understatement he'd heard in a while. "And I know we still have our differences, despite the things that bring us together." Here he glanced at Remus, who bumped his knee against Severus' under the table. "But please, for Remus if not for me, please look after Harry when he's back at school. He can't defend himself properly, not with Dumbledore lurking over his shoulder. If anything were to happen to him…" He didn't need to finish; it would devastate both men if something were to befall Potter. "Just, please. He needs all the allies he can get. I can't be there for him, but you can."
Severus pursed his lips. Were they really going to make him say it? "I'll admit, I have come to… tolerate the boy," he said, as if the very confession pained him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Remus try to hide a fond smile. Damnable wolf. "This summer has made me realise he's not as arrogant as I initially believed. When he's not being antagonised, he's… not terrible." There, that was as good as they were getting. Truthfully, Severus actually quite liked the Potter boy now; he was unexpectedly witty, and his Slytherin tendencies showed through in interesting — and sometimes amusing — ways. He now saw what Remus said when he said Potter — Harry — was so much like Lily. Sometimes his words, those green eyes staring back at him… it was like having her back. "I'll watch over him, as faithfully as you would," he vowed to the pair of Gryffindors. Not only because he knew his life would not be worth living should Remus hear he'd let something happen to the boy on his watch. He didn't want any harm to come to Harry either. "I will still need to keep up appearances, but his safety is my priority." He'd risked his life for the boy before, back when he hated him. He could certainly do it now Harry was tolerable.
"Thank you," Black breathed, his eyes grateful. "Snape… Severus. Thank you."
It was strange, hearing his given name come from the Gryffindor's lips without a hint of mockery or derision. At the beginning of the summer they'd agreed to be cordial, for Remus' sake, but the more time they spent together the more Severus was realising that Black wasn't the bullheaded little brat he had been when they were teenagers. Harry wasn't the only one who had become tolerable.
"We are on the same side, Sirius," he said, the name feeling odd on his tongue. "If war is to come, then there is no place for childhood grudges here."
Sirius nodded to him across the table, the understand passing between them. Beside him, Remus beamed with pride.
"I knew you two would warm up to each other eventually," he said fondly. Severus scoffed.
They weren't friends, by any stretch of the imagination. But maybe between Remus and Harry and the oncoming darkness, they could be something like it.