Every week, without fail, no matter what chaos was taking place in Harry's schedule, he set aside some time to teach Draco everything he'd taught to the HA. Sometimes that time ended up being midnight, but it was worth it. Whatever Harry could teach Draco, Draco would then teach Pansy and Millicent and Cassius and now Theo — the Slytherins who couldn't risk coming to the sessions themselves, but similarly couldn't risk going to Blaise and Daphne's little Slytherin House study group to do the same.
They were the Slytherins who couldn't risk being seen defecting, even by other defectors.
Luckily, sessions didn't last nearly as long as they would with the HA — Draco was just one person, not the fifty-odd Harry was now teaching, and he was an intelligent person at that. He picked things up quickly, making Harry's job a whole lot easier.
And leaving plenty of time for them to make out before they went to bed, depending on the night. Since they'd started moving their little rendezvous down to the Chamber, it was a little easier to get carried away.
Right now, they were working on the first spell to really trip Draco up, to cause him to need more than one session on the subject; the Patronus charm.
"I can't believe you're actually teaching everyone this," the blond muttered, glaring in frustration at the formless blob of silver magic lingering in front of them. "It's seriously advanced magic."
"It's seriously useful magic," Harry retorted. "And it's not impossible, it just takes some trying. This is only your second session. You remember how long it took me back in third year."
"Yeah, because you were thirteen," Draco said waspishly. He huffed. "Let me try again." A look of determination crossed his face. "Expecto Patronum!"
The silver magic was close, now; Harry definitely saw something with four legs and a long tail. A thought hit him, and he grinned. "That's brilliant, love."
Draco's eyebrow rose suspiciously. "Why do you look so fucking smug?"
Harry leaned in, kissing him quickly. "If I'm not mistaken, your Patronus is a fox," he informed the Slytherin boy delightedly. Draco's eyes widened.
"Oh." A smile tugged at his lips. "That makes sense, I suppose."
"I love you," Harry declared, heart full with the knowledge that Draco saw him as his greatest protector. Draco rolled his eyes.
"I love you, too, but if you tell me Longbottom gets his Patronus before I do, I'm leaving you," he deadpanned. Harry just laughed.
"To be honest, I kind of assumed you would teach yourself the spell when you knew I was learning it, back in third year. You always were a competitive little shit," he added fondly. Once again, Draco huffed in frustration.
"I did. I couldn't get it, so I gave up."
Harry moved closer, wrapping his arms around Draco from behind, propping his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Well, now you've got happier memories," he pointed out, kissing the shell of his ear. "Come on. You're almost there."
He felt the shiver that prickled down Draco's body. "Not helping," the blond muttered, though he made no move to dislodge his barnacle boyfriend. He raised his wand, took a deep breath, and tried again.
.-.
"Part of me just wants this year to be over," Draco admitted, when they had finished the Patronus work and cuddled up together on the sofa Harry had conjured in the corner — conjuring a bed had seemed a bit too forward, even for him. "But then I remember what I have to go home to, and I never want it to end."
Harry ran a hand through the blond's hair. They were well into March, now; only a couple of months away from the dreaded OWL exams, and then summer.
A couple of months away from the time that Harry's school year usually went to hell in a handbasket.
"We'll figure it out," he promised, holding Draco a little bit closer. "How are the Slytherins doing?" Harry felt like he hardly saw anyone in silver and green outside of classes and meals, these days. The entire house had gone to ground, even those who supported Voldemort — they could tell something was brewing, and with all that self-preservation instinct, most of them were waiting to see how things would fall.
"Your little article put quite the bee in everyone's bonnets," Draco informed him. "Half the house has had a letter from their parents warning them one way or another. Either they know what's coming and they aren't sure they can stand against Him, or they know what's coming and they don't want their kids to get too cocky until the Ministry has been taken."
It made Harry's blood run cold, to hear how inevitable the fall of the Ministry seemed to be in everyone's minds. Not that it surprised him in the slightest.
"Any whispers about what he's up to?" Harry asked hopefully, but Draco shook his head.
"Anyone who knows isn't going to put it in writing, not with Umbridge around. She might be an awful pureblood supremacist hag, but she's not a Death Eater."
Harry scowled; sometimes, he felt like she may as well be.
"Well we're on track for having sanctuary by summer," he confirmed, brightening up a little. "I heard back from Farlig; Potter Manor is still under an Unplottable charm, but otherwise there's nothing physically stopping me from going there and taking the wards even without the deed. And they're definitely blood wards." With blood wards, even if Dumbledore tried to claim he was Harry's legal guardian, he wouldn't be able to get in without Harry's consent. He didn't have a single drop of Potter blood.
"But it's Unplottable," Draco pointed out, frowning. "You've never been there."
"I haven't, but Sirius and Remus have," Harry said. "I've asked Sirius, and he remembers it. He'll take me once exams are over and I can take the wards, then it'll be ready as soon as people leave the train." He wasn't sure how many people would need it that desperately, but at the very least Theo needed a place to go. Harry would be ready.
He could feel the stress ease from Draco's narrow shoulders at the assurance, and he tucked the blond into his side, kissing his head. "I'll take care of it," he promised. "I'll keep as many of them as I can safe."
"I just hope they'll be able to get there in time," Draco replied quietly. "My last letter from Father… he's far too pleased with himself these days."
Harry gritted his teeth. What he wouldn't give to knock Lucius Malfoy off his high horse.
.-.-.
Their little heirs' study groups were getting fewer and further between, and entirely devoted to actual studying as exams grew closer. No one seemed to mind; not even Susan, who admitted there was little she could do in the way of revolution until after she had passed her OWLs.
Still, they gathered when they could; Harry liked it that little bit more, now that everyone in the room knew about his relationship with Draco. He hadn't realised how much he had been yearning to do such simple things like hold his hand or kiss his cheek, or even just watch him while he studied. Little things the rest of Hogwarts wouldn't even have to think about before doing in front of others. If it made his friends complain about how nauseating they were, that only made it better, as far as he was concerned.
Besides; Susan and Theo were worse, in his opinion.
As he unrolled his half-written Potions essay, turning hopeful green eyes on his boyfriend, the classroom door suddenly opened and every single one of them froze in horror.
Then, Luna drifted in, smiling like she had barely even noticed they were there, and sat down in a chair next to Daphne. "Hello," she greeted. Daphne stared.
"Uh… hi, Lu," she responded hesitantly. None of them moved. "What… what are you doing here?" The unspoken how did you find us ringing in the air. Luna just smiled brighter.
"This is where all the Wizengamot heirs meet up, isn't it? That's why you're all here?" Her wide blue eyes surveyed the group in interest. She didn't seem surprised or alarmed at the presence of all the Slytherins.
"…Yes," Daphne admitted. She reached over, smoothing down some of Luna's haphazard waves of hair. "Honey, this is supposed to be a secret meeting." She merely sounded exasperated, like Luna knowing such information was expected — then again, with her suspected Seer abilities, perhaps it was.
"I won't tell anyone," Luna promised. "But I thought it's about time I joined you all."
"Hang on — Lovegood, are you saying you're an heir?" Cassius asked sharply, causing a quiet intake of breath around the room. Luna, entirely unperturbed, nodded and began to braid a silver ribbon into Daphne's hair.
"My mother was of the Ollivander line," she declared absently. "The eldest daughter of the eldest daughter."
Harry sat up straighter. "That explains so much," he murmured, and Draco nodded beside him.
The Ollivander line was one that had gotten muddled over recent history, until no one knew who Garrick Ollivander's heir actually was, which caused increasingly higher alarm amongst the Wizengamot as the wandmaker grew more ancient.
The Ollivander line was also known to produce… oddities. The current family head being a prime example, his preternatural insight into magic and wandlore making him excellent at his job but also seem a bit crazy. There were Seers in the line, too, if Harry remembered his research correctly.
A slow smile spread across Daphne's face, and she kissed Luna chastely. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?" she remarked amused. Luna paused in her braiding to stroke Daphne's cheek. "Do you know why it's time for you to let us know that?"
Luna hummed thoughtfully, tying off the end of the braid. "Not exactly," she said. "But I know that I can trust everyone here. Great-granddad gave me permission to tell you."
More than a few uneasy looks passed between them all — what could be coming, for Luna to suddenly know that they needed to be aware of her heritage?
Eventually, Sullivan grinned. "Well, I'm glad you're here," he declared, picking up his books and moving over, forcing Ernie out of his seat. "Have you done the Arithmancy homework yet? My numbers won't add up right and I can't figure out why."
That seemed to break the spell that had fallen over them with Luna's interruption, and slowly they all started to get back to work. But it didn't stop Harry wondering, occasionally looking up to glance at the blonde-haired Ravenclaw.
Eventually, he shook his head, deciding to let the matter slide. If it was something important, Luna would tell them when they needed to know. She usually did.
.-.-.-.
Snape was distracted.
Harry didn't know why, but whatever the cause, the man was seriously off his game. Harry was practicing his Legilimency, and he kept finding his way into memories he knew Snape couldn't possibly want him to see. An incident with his father; his first kiss with Remus… Harry tried not to snoop, but considering Snape had instructed him to look for the things he was trying to hide, he couldn't help himself.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked tentatively, once he was pushed out of a memory involving fish and chips on some run-down pier and a nineteen year-old Remus Lupin wearing leather trousers, Snape's whole heart filled with love for the man. It warmed Harry's own heart, to feel the way this man felt about a person Harry cared so much about, but… it wasn't like him.
"I am fine," Snape bit out, clearly lying. His dark eyes met Harry's. "Again."
Harry did as instructed, murmuring the spell to enter Snape's mind, trying to split his own focus. He was supposed to be writing about antidotes while he searched the man's mindscape, to practice managing Legilimency undetected. Eye contact was only needed for the initial spell, after all.
He appeared in the now-familiar haze of Snape's mental defences — currently at a fairly low level, while Harry was still learning — and narrowed his focus for something that would surely get Snape back to his usual self.
Show me why you hate my father.
Immediately there was a swarm of memories, but one shone brighter than any other, and Harry dove into it.
Four boys, confronting a skinnier boy after an exam. A girl, redheaded and blazing with anger, coming in to defend the skinny boy. A fight, and the skinny boy was hanging in the air all of a sudden, his robes over his head showing he was full Wizarding Traditional beneath them. Jeering laughter, the redhead offering to help, that word, that awful word, the word that ruined it all. The four boys, faces turning cruel, led by the one with dark hair and bronze skin and vindictive brown eyes. "Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"
At last, Harry was forced away, returning to his own mind with a gasp. At first he wasn't sure if the ejection had come from Snape or from his own disgust at the sight — then he looked up, and saw the utter fury in the Slytherin's eyes.
"I suppose you found them funny, did you?" he drawled icily. Harry gaped at him.
"What? God, no!" That seemed to startle Snape. "That was what they were like? That was— that's what he was like?" In none of the stories Sirius and Remus had ever told, did they mention that. "That… that wasn't a prank. That was assault." He hadn't seen if they had in fact removed Snape's underwear, but even without them going that far it was still sexual assault. "Why didn't Remus do anything?"
"He stopped them, the second Potter even hinted at… well, you saw," Snape said stiffly. "He was always… reluctant to interfere, when they got going. He worried that if they knew about us, they would abandon him, or worse. They were his pack. He couldn't face that."
"You don't let that happen to someone you love," Harry argued firmly. "How can you forgive him for that? And Sirius! Sirius was—" Harry didn't even have words for the way he felt, watching his godfather do something so cruel. "They reminded me of my cousin, and his friends."
Snape's lips became a thin line. "Sometimes, I forget that your childhood was more similar to mine than James Potter's."
Harry winced. "Sometimes I like to forget my childhood existed at all," he retorted bluntly. He ran a hand through his hair. "God, no wonder you hated me at first. How the hell have you and Sirius managed to even be civil, let alone sort-of friends?"
"Amends were made, for various incidents," Snape said. "Our school years were… complicated, to say the least. Sometimes in life you have to decide to move past things that hurt, because continuing to hold anger over them can make things worse. Needless to say, Black and I will never be bosom buddies, but for the cause of a greater good we can be companionable. As for Remus… that history is even more complicated, and suffice to say I do not owe you an explanation."
Harry went wide-eyed, nodding. "Yes, sir." But he still couldn't fathom it, forgiving people who treated you like that. Forgiving people who stood by and let it happen. "Is… is that when you and my mum stopped being friends, sir?"
Slowly, Snape gave a jerky nod. "She forgave me, eventually," he said. "But by that time, the damage had been done." He rubbed unconsciously at his left forearm, where the Dark Mark lurked beneath his sleeve.
An awkward silence spread between them. Then, Harry steeled himself. "Excuse my bluntness, sir, but we both know I'm not that good a Legilimens," he said frankly. "I should never have seen that. Any other day, you'd never let me get that far. What the hell is wrong with you today? Sir," he added belatedly, not wanting to push his luck. Snape scowled, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
"You're more skilled at it than you think," he admitted offhandedly. "But you're right, you never should have seen that. Albus called me into his office this morning, to give a report on your Occlumency progress."
Harry's shoulders tensed, but he still didn't understand how that could have Snape so thrown. "He's done that before, right? What was different this time?"
"He seems… displeased with what I have told him I found in your mind," Snape said, pursing his lips. "The headmaster seems to believe even more strongly than before that the horcrux within you is… controlling you."
A startled laugh burst from Harry's lips. "He what?" That was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard! "I thought he agreed that I wasn't possessed?"
"Not possession," Snape corrected. "Albus believes that as his compulsions on you have eroded — not that he explicitly admitted to ever doing such things, merely referencing how you were growing older — it has allowed the horcrux to start to influence your own soul, turning it dark. Making you more like the young Tom Riddle he remembers."
"The only thing I have in common with young Tom Riddle is that we both saw through Dumbledore's bullshit," Harry muttered. "Why is this a problem?" He didn't understand why it had Snape so bothered.
"Because, you Gryffindor fool — if Albus can convince himself of this, then he can convince others. He doesn't need to tell them of the compulsions, or the horcrux; he certainly hasn't mentioned either of them to me. He merely needs to play on your connection to the Dark Lord, the one half the school knows you have thanks to your dorm-mates blabbing about your vision before Christmas. He will mention how since the Dark Lord returned you have become colder, more withdrawn, more intelligent. You have made new friends — powerful friends — and you have pulled away from his own guiding hand. Exactly as another young boy once did in these halls."
With dawning horror, Harry began to see the problem.
"He'll have the whole of wizarding Britain against you before you can even graduate," Snape finished grimly.
"But… surely no one will believe him?" Harry said weakly, already knowing the answer.
"He's Albus Dumbledore," Snape pointed out, "many people would believe the sky to be green if he told them. And as far as the general public is concerned, he knows you better than most. If he tells them your behaviour has changed, who are they to argue otherwise. Especially when he is not wrong."
Snape had a good point. All those things, everything Dumbledore was using as a sign of Harry's turn to the Dark — they were all technically true. He was applying himself better in lessons, he was not putting up with the gawping of the general public as much. He had split quite explosively with Ron and Hermione, and had a powerful and influential new circle of friends. Just as Voldemort once had, his original followers.
And he was definitely turning away from Dumbledore's guidance, which to many in this country was a sure sign of darkness.
"What do I do?" he asked. Snape leaned back in his chair, thoughtful.
"I am assuring Albus that I saw no signs of outside influence in your mind, other than the obvious. No memories of secretly practicing Dark Arts, or torturing animals," his lips quirked briefly, "but as he believes me unaware of the horcrux within you, I suspect he just assumes I do not know what to look for." His frown returned. "You must not let this derail your plans. Your public divide from the headmaster is inevitable; we can only hope that it comes at a time when public opinion is in your favour. Leave manipulating Albus to me."
"If you're sure." Harry didn't like the idea of just leaving that whole thing alone, but there was little else he could do. He would lose so much ground if he pretended to turn back into the headmaster's docile little puppet. And his sanity, as well, before long. "I think we are finished for the night, Potter," Snape declared, and now Harry looked closer he could see the stress in the furrow of his brow, the tension in his shoulders.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course." He scrambled to grab his bag. "I… I'm sorry I saw those memories, sir. I'm sorry for what my father did to you."
Snape's return smile was a twisted, bitter thing. "Those are not your sins to apologise for, Harry," he replied evenly.
"I'm sorry all the same." Then Harry left, his heart heavy, wondering why no one had ever told him his father was such a shithead.
.-.
The first thing he did upon reaching the dormitory was ward himself in his bed curtains, and pull out his mirror. "Sirius Black."
Sirius responded in moments, and the bright grin he greeted Harry with dropped as soon as he saw the look on his godson's face. "What's wrong, pup?"
"Is Remus there?" Harry asked, and Sirius frowned.
"Yes… Did you need to talk to him?" Harry could see the background shift as Sirius got up, no doubt to go find his friend.
"Both of you, if you're not busy."
Soon Harry could see both men in the surface of the mirror, staring worriedly at him. "Is everything alright, cub?"
Harry told them; about his Legilimency lesson, and the scene he'd watched in Snape's memories. As he spoke, he watched both of them grow paler.
"Harry…" Sirius began, and Harry glared at him.
"Don't patronise me," he warned. "How could— he wasn't even doing anything. He was just there."
"Things between Severus and James were complicated, Harry. And Severus will be the first to admit he wasn't exactly innocent in the matter," Remus said.
"I bet Snape didn't strip any of you half-naked in the middle of the school grounds," Harry spat viciously, glad when they both flinched.
"No, he didn't," Remus admitted. "That was too far, and even James agreed that, once he calmed down. He sort-of saw red after Severus called Lily the M word."
"But the fact that you had him like that at all!" Harry wasn't letting them talk him out of his anger. "You treated Snape the way my cousin Dudley treated me. I was just lucky he didn't have magic to help along the way." Dudley with magic… now there was the stuff of nightmares.
His accusation made Sirius wince. "We were fifth years."
"I'm a fifth year," Harry shot back immediately. "That's no excuse."
"No, it's not," Remus agreed sadly. "Harry, I'm sorry that we tried to shield you from the more… vindictive parts of James' school years. We didn't want you to think ill of your father — he was far more than the boy you saw in those memories."
"You didn't want me to think ill of him, or of you?" asked Harry knowingly. Both men were silent. "I thought so. Look, I love you both. I always will. But… I don't know if I can look at you the same, having seen that."
Sirius looked crushed in a way that had Harry's heart clenching.
"We understand," Remus assured. "But please understand that was just one moment. One incident; none of us at our best. When we get the chance to get the Potter pensieve out of the vault, we'll show you more. The good, and the bad," he promised. "But despite some rough moments, James Potter was a good man. As is Sirius. And I… I try my best to be worth the forgiveness Severus has offered me." Now he looked pained, too, and Harry started to feel a little guilty. He didn't want to dredge up old wounds. He just wanted to understand.
"You're a good man too, Moony," Sirius insisted roughly. "The best of us." A smile flickered across Remus' face, but he said nothing.
"I think that would be good," Harry said slowly. "To see more memories. If you're willing." Anything to banish the awful sight of his father's cruel, laughing face from his mind.
"We'll sort something out this summer," Remus promised. "But please, Harry — don't hold our stupid teenage decisions against us as adults. We know we were wrong, back then. We grew up. We apologised. It— it wasn't easy, at times. But we moved on."
"Snape said the same thing, sort-of," Harry admitted, and Remus' smile finally looked genuine.
"We worked through a lot of old grievances to get where we are today," he said. "I wish that hadn't been your first real sight of your father, Harry. But what's done is done. You of all people know that such things are rarely simple."
Harry knew he was talking about Draco, and part of him wanted to argue that Draco had been twelve and had never done anything as bad as that and he knew better now. But he was tired, and his heart ached, and he was worried that if he kept talking it over he would convince himself to hate his own family. He didn't want that.
"I think I'm going to get some sleep," he said eventually. Sirius still looked like someone had kicked his puppy.
"We love you, Harry," he said earnestly, and Harry managed a small, but genuine smile.
"I love you both, too." Even that awful memory couldn't change that.
"Did Severus seem busy, when you left?" Remus asked, frowning.
"No, I don't think so." The way he looked, Harry doubted he could have concentrated on work. Remus nodded, looking relieved, and Harry knew there would be a visitor in the Potions Master's quarters soon. Good — regardless of how he felt about the whole situation right now, Remus and Snape loved each other, and they could both do with company after Harry had dredged up such difficult history. Not to mention Snape's other worries.
Harry bid them both goodnight, and lay there for a while in the silence, still in his school robes.
He would talk to Draco about it when he could, he decided. Maybe he would have some insight to soothe Harry's soul.
For now, he really did need to sleep.