The Prophet were getting bolder in their attempts to defame Harry, full of quotes from Dumbledore and other 'anonymous witnesses' about Harry's concerning behaviours at school in the past year. Luckily, according to the letter Harry had just received from Mrs Frobisher, the last issue was enough for her to send one hell of a Cease-And-Desist in their direction.
It won't stop Dumbledore, but it'll give you some peace from the Prophet. And Amelia and I are working on the rest. We're handling this, Harry. Don't worry.
It was a novel feeling, having someone so dedicated to protecting his public image. He knew it would only do so much — the damage had been done with what Dumbledore had already said — but it was reassuring to know that it would all stop soon.
Now that they were securely into August, it felt like the new school year was looming far too close on the horizon. Harry knew a month was a long time — they'd already fit so much into the first month of summer, after all — but even so, the little clock in the back of his mind was ticking ominously.
It was a strange world indeed, when going back to school felt like going into enemy territory.
Still, the rest of the household were determined not to let him get too caught up in his worries. He trained when he could, and still made time for fun things with the others — and if it looked like he was getting too stuck in his own head with all his worries, Draco was happy to drag him upstairs while their guardians pointedly pretended not to notice.
Harry had to fight the dreamy smile that threatened to take over when he thought about his boyfriend, who had become so much bolder since the day after Harry's birthday, when they had finally taken that step. It was like Draco had been holding his breath, wondering if every chance alone would turn into the big one, but now they had… Harry didn't want to say got it over with, but now they had reached that point and both enjoyed the process, Draco was more relaxed in the bedroom than Harry had seen him since before exams.
Though they tried not to spend every night together; not because of fears of their guardians saying anything — it was clear that everyone in the house knew that the two boys were having sex, much to their embarrassment — but because neither of them wanted to get used to falling asleep together and then struggle to separate once they got back to Hogwarts.
Also, Harry was still having visions most nights, and he wanted to make sure Draco got some sleep that wasn't interrupted by his flailing and screaming. But they weren't completely co-dependent, and aimed to stay that way — as such, Draco and Narcissa were off catching up with everyone at Malfoy Manor for the day, while Harry was in the library with Remus. Sirius and Charlie were… somewhere in the house, and Harry did not want to contemplate that too closely.
"Hey, can you take a look at this? It looks interesting," Harry said, handing over his book open to a page about spell-chains in duelling. Remus raised an eyebrow, but obligingly took the text, his face lighting up when he started to read.
"Oh, yes! Have I not taught you this before?" Harry shook his head, and the werewolf frowned. "Hmm. I swear it was on my list." He shrugged, shuffling over so they could both read the book at the same time. "It's fascinating stuff, really; you—" But whatever it was, Harry never got to find out; Snape stormed through the door, his rage like a cloud around his shoulders, magic practically vibrating from his skin. "Severus!" Remus jumped to his feet, alarmed. "What's happened?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, too; the professor had just come from a staff meeting, if he wasn't mistaken. "What's Dumbledore done now?" he asked warily, and the Slytherin let out a growl.
"Signed my fucking death warrant, that's what he's done," Snape muttered furiously. Harry looked to Remus in wide-eyed horror.
Remus stepped up to his partner, placing one hand on his shoulder and leaning in, other hand on the back of his neck. "Calm, Severus. Start from the beginning."
Snape's back went taut like a bowstring, then all at once he slumped against Remus' form — as much as Snape could slump, at least. Harry felt like an intruder just sitting there, watching them like this, but he couldn't get away.
"Today, we were introduced to the newest member of Hogwarts staff," Snape declared, straightening up to look at Remus with a sneer on his face. Both of them seemed to have forgotten Harry was even in the room. "Or, rather, re-introduced. Albus has brought back Horace Slughorn."
Harry didn't know who that was, but the name made Remus gasp. "Slughorn? Merlin, I didn't know he was still kicking around. So— wait. If he's coming back, that means…" He looked at his partner with trepidation, and Snape gave a short nod.
"I have finally been granted the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," he confirmed bitterly.
"What?" Harry blurted, unable to help himself, and both men whipped around to look at him. Harry was too bewildered to even blush. "I mean— can he do that?"
Snape snorted. "Albus can do whatever he wants at this point," he retorted. "But yes; Horace Slughorn was the Potions professor who taught us when we were in school. He retired shortly after I gained my Mastery, which is when I took over, but it seems Albus has convinced him to come out of retirement."
"Well… that's not so bad, is it? I mean, at least we'll have a competent Defence teacher this year." Even if it would be even harder for Snape to keep his cover as a Death Eater and still teach something useful in a class like DADA. "I know the position is cursed or whatever, but… not everyone who's taught it has died. Remus is still here."
Snape's face twisted in a scowl. "Unfortunately, that is the least of my problems." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "After the staff meeting, Albus bid me to speak with him privately. It seems he has had enough time since his incident with that damned ring to make plans — he knows he is dying, and he knows the Dark Lord wants him dead, and he has decided to tie the two neatly together." He turned back to Remus with haunted black eyes. "He has made me take a vow to kill him, should the opportunity arise, in order to secure my position at the Dark Lord's side."
Harry's blood went cold. "He what."
"Quite," Snape murmured, glancing Harry's way. "It seems all my fantasies of permanently wiping that damned twinkle from his eyes have been offered to me. Only at the price of my soul."
If Snape killed Dumbledore, even if they could prove it was at the headmaster's instruction, the man would be vilified forever. There would be no redeeming him in the eyes of the general public. Nothing Harry could say or reveal about Dumbledore would make such an act in any way forgivable by the wizarding world at large, not from a man like Severus Snape.
"I won't let that happen," he declared, and Snape snorted.
"I know you manage to pull miracles from thin air on a regular basis, Potter, but even you might struggle to turn this one around. He has forced me into an Unbreakable Vow. Should Death Eaters attack the school by the end of this year — and he seems alarmingly confident that they will — I am magically obliged to murder him in front of as many people as possible, once the opportunity arises. Thus my employment will be terminated, fulfilling the curse on the position — and convincing the Dark Lord that I am loyal to no one but him."
"And perhaps if you were truly loyal to Albus Dumbledore, that might have worked," Harry countered. "But you're forgetting something — there is no way in hell I'm letting Dumbledore control the school for another full year." He smirked, green eyes flashing. "He's dying regardless. If I have enough people publicly losing faith in him while he's trying to secure his legacy, he'll get angry — he'll start making mistakes. He's already started doing that; his work in the Prophet has been sloppy at best, giving me something I can actually take legal action on. He doesn't care about Voldemort right now, he just wants me back under his control before he pops his clogs so that when I off the Dark bastard, everyone chalks it up to Dumbledore's fine mentorship of me," he said with a roll of his eyes.
"Harry, it's not that simple," Remus started, but Harry shook his head.
"I'll kill the headmaster myself before I let him force you into it, Snape," he insisted, watching surprise flicker across that dour face. He gave his best innocent, Golden Boy grin. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, after all."
"And if Albus has done his level best to make the public think you're the next Dark Lord?" Snape retorted pointedly. Harry just shrugged.
"Then I bring out the evidence of him turning me into his little magical puppet, bring out the Sad Orphan Face, and do my best. By that point, I'm fairly confident I can destroy his reputation so thoroughly the country will just want to sweep the whole thing under the rug to save face." Then he smirked. "Besides, your Vow might insist you kill him in a public manner — I'm under no such requirements. I'm sure I can make it look like an accident."
The two men stared at him for a long moment, and then Remus shook his head incredulously. "The Slytherins really have claimed you, haven't they?" he sighed, and Harry laughed.
"Sorry, Moony. Comes with the family magics, I suppose." Also from training with Snape, and dating Draco, and talking to Salazar — he was doomed from the get go, really.
"I cannot ask you to kill a man to save my reputation, Harry," Snape insisted, and Harry stared him down unflinchingly.
"You're not asking," he replied. "I'm telling you, it's not going to come to that. Let my friends and I do the work — let Amelia and Mrs Frobisher do the work. We'll have him out before exams, at the latest." There was no way the public would let Dumbledore continue to be responsible for children once Harry was through with him. His face softened, and he flicked his gaze to Remus, who was staring at him in astonishment. "You've already given so much of your life to Dumbledore's service, sir," he said to Snape, "I'm not going to stand back and let you give him this, too."
One day, he and Remus would be able to stand together publicly and admit their love, and Harry would be damned if Snape was seen as a criminal by the time that day arrived. Not after everything Snape had done for him, for the Light, for the whole bloody country.
Snape stared at him, utterly silent, for a long moment. Harry tried not to fidget under the man's scrutiny, keeping his shoulders square.
"I think," Snape said eventually, a tone to his voice that Harry couldn't quite place, "it is about time you called me Severus. Only when outside school, of course."
Harry gaped at him. "I— um—"
Beside Snape, Remus smiled. "I think what Severus is trying to say, cub, is that he's very grateful for your support, but let's not get you set on murdering the headmaster quite so easily." He twined his fingers with Snape's, their shoulders pressed together. "Much can happen between now and the end of the year. But I will not see either one of you throw yourselves on that bastard's sword." His amber eyes flashed gold, determination written in every inch of his body. "We are a family, and we will figure this out as a family. For now, all you have to do is prepare for the new school year. Severus, you're welcome to borrow as much of my old lesson plans as you require, if you'd like them."
Good old Moony, reminding them what was truly important — academic preparedness.
Harry flashed a quick smile. "I, uh, for what it's worth, si— Severus," the name felt strange on his tongue, "I'm not sure what this Slughorn bloke is like, but I'm glad you're going to be the new Defence teacher. If… if we're heading into a war, the students need all the preparation they can get, and I know you won't go easy on them."
Snape looked faintly amused. "They will all hate me even more than they did in Potions," he said knowingly, making Harry laugh.
"Maybe." Snape would be just as harsh a taskmaster as he was with everything else, and even more prejudiced towards Slytherins besides. "But they'll learn a darn sight faster than they would have with another bloody Umbridge involved." If only through abject fear of what Snape might do to them should they fail. A thought hit Harry, and his smirk widened. "Dumbledore's going to expect me to be livid," he realised delightedly.
"And I'm sure I will have ample opportunity to put you in detention," Snape agreed, catching on as quickly as always. Harry laughed.
"Wonder if he'll ever realise he just did me a massive favour."
Dumbledore had declared war, and Harry was more than ready to meet him there.
.-.-.-.
Order meetings in the last few weeks had become an utter embarrassment, Sirius decided; it was a good thing they were a secret vigilante organisation, because if they behaved like this in a public forum, no one would take them seriously.
He glanced across the table at Remus, who looked equally fed-up by the incessant squabbling. Sirius had lost track of what this one was even about — it had started with a fairly reasonable discussion about whether the auror department could be considered trustworthy, but then derailed quite quickly when Tonks had mentioned Harry's visions being the only decent way to get ahead of Death Eaters these days. Now it seemed there were about four arguments happening at once, all stemming from the reliability of using a teenage boy's insight into a Dark Lord's mind as a warning signal. It seemed Dumbledore's pointed remarks in the Prophet had got to them — though the headmaster himself was being remarkably quiet on the matter.
Sirius expected nothing less; Dumbledore wouldn't let himself be seen or heard actively disparaging Harry, not when he clearly still had plans to bring Harry back to heel. Every time Sirius saw him these days, the man had increasingly firm requests to see Harry prior to school returning. Every time, Sirius told him where to shove it.
He was starting to wonder if he shouldn't just kick the whole damned Order out of his house and be done with it.
As tempting as that sounded, he knew Harry wouldn't approve — they needed to know what Dumbledore was up to, and that meant at least some of them staying on his good side.
But as much as Sirius knew his godson meant well in wanting him to remain on semi-decent terms with the headmaster, Sirius was entirely ready to just punch the old bastard in the face. "I think that is enough for today," Dumbledore declared over the chaos, waiting for silence to fall. "As difficult as it is to trust Harry's visions, knowing where they come from, we must continue to take advantage of this information — at least for now, while it appears to be accurate."
Sirius snarled silently; was he implying that Harry may start giving them false information, soon?
With the meeting dismissed, everyone started to go their separate ways. Sirius turned to Charlie, ready to leave — only to hear his name called in that infuriating too-calm voice.
"Yes, Albus?" he asked through gritted teeth, turning to smile at the elderly headmaster. Dumbledore reached into a pocket of his robes, pulling out a thick envelope.
"I'm afraid I had some trouble addressing young Harry's booklist, and I thought it might be easier to just hand it over in person." He chuckled quietly. "Or as close to it, with you keeping Harry tucked away so safely all summer! Here," he handed over the letter, "I trust you will make sure this gets to him in time. Please do send him my regards, won't you?"
Sirius took the letter, fingers tingling from the magic seeped into the parchment. He fought back a scowl. "I'll pass it on," he confirmed. Dumbledore smiled genially, clasping his hands together.
"Wonderful. Well, I shall see you at the next meeting, then."
He left, not even bothering to ask Sirius for a meeting with Harry, which was even more suspicious. Charlie was lingering in the doorway with concern in his eyes, and Sirius jerked his head towards the stairs — he wasn't going anywhere until he'd taken a proper look at that letter.
"Trouble addressing it my arse," he muttered, once they were shut away securely in the drawing room. "Trouble seeing the address, more like." Harry had no trouble getting post from anyone else; even his OWL results had made it fine. The only way Dumbledore would have had trouble was if he was trying to glean the address of the Unplottable building from the magic involved in addressing and sending school letters.
"Do I need to call Bill back?" Charlie asked, but Sirius shook his head, drawing his own wand.
"Nah, I think I know what this is." He grew up with incredibly paranoid parents; Sirius knew what tracking charms felt like.
Sure enough, a few diagnostic spells revealed at least four different trackers embedded in the letter, and with a growl Sirius dismantled them all. Charlie edged closer, chest pressing against Sirius' shoulder as he eyed the parchment warily. "Should we open it and copy it for Harry, or…?"
"I don't think that's necessary." Sirius couldn't feel any other magic on there; if Dumbledore had any other trackers, they were nothing he'd ever seen before, and he'd seen a lot. "Besides, look at that thing." He glanced down at the envelope, a proud grin sliding across his face. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a badge in there."
Charlie's eyes widened, and he leaned in to get a better look, his body warm against Sirius' back. "You think— quidditch captain?" he asked excitedly.
"Unless they've rescinded your brother's prefect badge," Sirius replied with a snort. He pecked Charlie on the cheek, picked up the envelope, and held out a hand. "Let's go give this to Harry so we can find out, yeah?"
Charlie grinned at him, fingers twining together, and together they apparated home.
Sirius didn't feel any alarm from the wards as they stepped through — not like he had at Grimmauld with those tracking spells triggering all sorts of warnings — so he assumed he'd managed to get rid of everything. He smirked to himself; take that, Dumbledore.
The sound of laughter and splashing ringing through the air made them pause in their stride, and the pair turned away from the path to the front door, heading around the back to the pool. It seemed the boys were taking advantage of the glorious sunshine, though Sirius would bet Draco had a strong Sunblock charm on that fair skin of his. Narcissa was out there too, sprawled gracefully in a sun lounger at the edge of the pool, wearing a swimsuit and reading a book while the boys tossed a beach ball back and forth.
"Well this looks like much more fun than we were having at Grimmauld," he drawled by way of greeting, smirking at the trio. "Remus and Severus not joining you?"
Sn— Severus is brewing," Harry informed him, still tripping over the man's first name. Sirius could understand that; he still forgot half the time himself. "Moony said he might be out in a bit, but he's going down to the lab for a while first." Harry made a slight face, which made Sirius fight a smile. His poor pup, struggling with the active sex lives of the adults in his life.
To be fair, Sirius had struggled with the concept of Moony and Snape for a while, but after living with the pair for this long — not to mention all the teenage years living with Remus and learning far too much about his sexual preferences while drunk — he was just happy to see his friend happy, and equally happy that they kept their antics to spaces Sirius didn't frequent anyway.
Which was more than he could say for his godson and Draco, getting handsy all over the bloody house. Teenagers!
"Well, I've got a present for you, pup," he announced, brandishing the envelope dramatically. "Mayhem, did your booklist arrive?"
Draco made a face at the nickname, which he still wasn't sold on. "This morning," he confirmed, frowning slightly. "Nothing for Harry, though; it was strange."
"Dumbledore was having some trouble getting tracking charms to stick on something going to an Unplottable property," Charlie supplied wryly as Harry hauled himself out of the water, pushing his wet hair back off his face. It warmed Sirius' heart to see the teenager looking so healthy, even if there were all those scars on his back and legs. He was as tall as Charlie, now!
"He decided to have me deliver it personally," Sirius added, handing it over once Harry had cast a Drying charm on himself. Wandless, too, the little powerhouse. "Don't worry, I dismantled all the charms before I came home."
"I could've just copied off Draco's list, it'll all be the same," Harry said, frowning slightly. "You should've just burned the damn thing."
Sirius smirked to himself. "Don't be so hasty, there, kiddo."
His suspicions were correct — as Harry peered into the envelope, his eyes went wide, and he dug out the small red Quidditch Captain badge with a look of awe.
"I— but— it should be Katie's!" he protested, staring at the badge.
"What is it?" Draco asked, getting out of the pool and striding over. "Oh." He looked at the badge, then grinned. "Congratulations, Scarhead. You won't need me to sneak you into the Prefect's bathroom anymore."
Sirius could have done without hearing that.
"But it should be Katie's, she's been on the team longer. I was banned last year!" Harry protested.
"Only because of Umbridge," Draco pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Maybe Katie turned it down. Look, there's a letter in there, too."
Sirius watched Harry properly empty the envelope, tossing aside the book list — which Charlie caught, pocketing for later — and focusing on another piece of parchment attached. "It's from Professor McGonagall," Harry explained, shock still in his voice. "Well, it's from Katie, passed through McGonagall. She says McGonagall offered her the captaincy but she turned it down to focus on her NEWTs, and—" He looked up, smiling slightly. "She says getting into pro quidditch will be easier if I have two years as captain under my belt, rather than just one. But she's happy to help me out with it all if I end up really busy with all my other stuff again."
Sirius wasn't the only one who snorted — all his other stuff, that was an understatement to say the least.
"You've earned that badge, Harry," Draco insisted. "You're the reason Gryffindor wins as often as it does. You deserve it."
"He's right, kid," Charlie piped up. "I've talked enough quidditch strategy with you to know you'll be a brilliant captain. And if you ever need advice, well; you can take your pick from me, Ollie or Angie." He gave that dimpled smile that Sirius loved, and Harry grinned back.
"Quidditch Captain," he murmured, looking down at his badge. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder.
"Proud of you, kiddo," he said, heart squeezing fondly at the way his godson's face lit up. "And hey, now I'm a free man I'll be able to come see you play." He hadn't watched Harry in a quidditch match since that disastrous game in his third year where the dementors had swarmed him.
"Really?" Harry asked hopefully, and oh that broke Sirius' heart a little bit, that he seemed so surprised that Sirius might actually want to come and support him like that.
"Every game Dumbledore will let me," Sirius vowed earnestly.
With any luck, he'd have Harry's whole career to watch him play quidditch, but he wanted to start as early as possible. He'd missed enough as it was.
.-.-.-.
After the booklists arrived, it was decided that Harry and Draco would take separate trips to Diagon Alley, for safety reasons. Harry couldn't really argue with that; he and Sirius got stared at enough as it was, without adding Draco and Narcissa to the mix. Diagon was a dark place these days, and Harry just wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible.
So he went first, with Sirius and Remus, apparating into the alley on a slightly grey afternoon. There wasn't much Harry needed, really; Snape — Severus, Merlin, he'd never get used to that — had assured them he would take care of both boys' potions ingredients, and Harry could have owl-ordered all the books and writing supplies he needed. But he needed new Hogwarts robes thanks to what he suspected was his final growth spurt, and that could only be done at Malkin's.
Besides, Remus said it would be good for morale if people saw Harry out shopping for his school things.
Now that he was in Diagon, Harry wasn't so sure about that.
The alley was certainly… different. The first thing Harry noticed was how empty it was; the few people who were there walked quickly and kept their heads down. No one stopped to chat, or called cheerful greetings.
Then he realised how many of the shops were empty. He'd heard, of course — the twins had told him about Fortescue closing up only days before someone smashed the shop up, and it had been in the Prophet when Ollivander mysteriously vanished one night. Even Luna wasn't sure where her great-grandfather was, and Harry knew the Ravenclaw girl was worried about him. The further down they walked, the more it seemed shop owners had decided not to risk staying open in case Voldemort and his people took offence to that.
"It's the first war all over again," Sirius murmured grimly, a hand on Harry's shoulder as they hurried towards Flourish and Blott's. Luckily the bookshop was still open, though the only other customers seemed to be Hogwarts students.
They bought Harry's new books quickly, then headed over to Malkin's to get him measured up. The usually chatty witch was almost silent as she worked, her face lined and her eyes darting fearfully towards the doors. She didn't look Harry in the eye, not once in the entire time he was in there.
It was something Harry was beginning to notice — though there were far fewer people in the alley than usual, all of them seemed wary of him. It hurt, realising how deep Dumbledore's claws had gotten into all of them, how easy it had been to convince them that Harry was under some sort of mysterious dark influence.
Harry tried not to let it bother him — he had plenty of people supporting him, after all — but it still weighed on him inside. It was going to be another difficult start to the school year, if everyone thought he was dangerous again.
To cheer them all up, and to kill time while Madam Malkin made Harry's robes, the three of them headed to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was easily the busiest shop in the entire alley; there was something to be said for seeking laughter in a time of fear. The twins seemed a little star-struck at having both remaining Marauders in their shop at once, practically tripping over themselves to show Sirius and Remus some of their new products. Harry hung back with Angelina near the till, watching in amusement.
"Congrats on the badge by the way, Captain," she said teasingly, grinning at him. Harry blushed.
"Katie told you?"
"When she gave the letter to McGonagall to pass to you, yeah. Made us all promise not to tell you 'til you got the badge." Angelina winked. "Didn't want to ruin the surprise."
"I'm just glad I get to play again full stop, let alone captain the team!" Harry had truly been worried that the Ministry would have found a way to keep Umbridge's ban in place, just to spite him for making them look bad.
"You'll do great," Angelina assured. "You've got a lot of work ahead of you, but at least you're not rebuilding the entire team." He still had Katie, and Vicky, and even Ginny. "I have every faith you'll keep the Gryffindor win streak going." Her gaze grew devilish, and she smirked. "You'll have me and Ollie to answer to if you don't."
Harry snorted. "Aye, Captain." He would do his best.
"Just do me a favour and don't put those idiot beaters from the Ravenclaw match back on the team," Angelina added, making a face.
"I might not have much choice." If no one even halfway decent tried out, he'd be screwed.
Angelina was saved having to come up with some kind of sympathetic reassurance by the return of the four troublemakers to the till, Sirius with a basket full to bursting with prank goods while Remus had his own much more manageable stack.
Harry stared at the pile as the twins began to ring everything through, his eyes round. "I am so glad I'm heading back to school soon," he declared, and Sirius barked out a laugh.
"What do you mean, pup? This is all just stuff to get you and your boyfriend with before you leave again." His grey eyes danced even as he attempted an innocent face, and Harry eyed him warily.
"You sure that's a war you want to start, Padfoot?" he asked. Sirius' smirk widened.
"Try us, Mischief."
Well, he couldn't say Harry hadn't warned him. The green-eyed Gryffindor turned to the twins, who were watching the exchange with poorly-veiled glee. "Okay, boys, help me out here. Give me your best stuff."
He was met with identical smirks, and as George grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the back room, Harry was sure he heard Sirius cursing, while Remus just laughed.
.-.-.-.
Despite the regular night-time trips into Voldemort's head, Harry was starting to enjoy his routine at Seren Du; with Sirius free and no one expecting Harry to spend part of his summer elsewhere, it was turning out to be the best one yet. The Death Eaters even seemed to be slowing down their assaults, frustrated with how quickly the Order managed to mobilise against them every time. These days, most of Harry's visions were of the Dark Lord torturing his own servants.
Of course, not everything could go to plan; not for Harry Potter. So when he saw the owl speeding towards him as he and Draco finished playing quidditch, his stomach sank.
"I know that owl," Draco said, narrowing his gaze. "Whose is it?"
Harry looked up at the approaching bird, frowning; it was definitely familiar, but not one he immediately recognised. It was only when the owl was hardly a few feet away that Harry recognised it, and his stomach sank. "It's Sully's," he realised, holding out an arm for the owl to land on. It was only a small thing, and it tried to be as gentle as possible, though it held its burden out with urgency. Why was Sullivan writing to him?
He opened the letter, dread building with every line.
Harry,
I need help. My parents have joined Him. They don't want me Marked yet, but they want me doing His bidding, and are to present me to him tomorrow. Can you get me out of here? ASAP? I'm worried what will happen if they take me to Him, everyone knows I'm friends with you.
Sully
"Fuck," he muttered, looking up at Draco with panicked eyes. "We have to get him out of there." If Sullivan's parents took him to Voldemort, the Dark Lord could rip through his Occlumency barriers and learn all about Harry's plans.
"How?"
The owl stayed on Harry's shoulder as the two boys hurried back towards the house, clearly expecting a response.
Harry knew that Tonks was the only one home; Sirius and Remus were out on Order business, Snape and Charlie were both working, and Narcissa was over at Malfoy Manor. Tonks wasn't even supposed to be there long, just hanging out after a training session so the boys could fly without breaking the rules. "Tonks!" Harry called, hoping the auror wasn't getting ready to leave. "Tonks, where are you?"
Tonks came hurrying out from the direction of the kitchen, his wand raised warily. He blinked at the sight of the two teens and the owl. "What's the matter?"
"The Fawleys have turned Dark," Draco told him grimly.
"You know my friend Sullivan?" Harry pressed, and Tonks nodded, "he just wrote; he needs sanctuary, as fast as possible. His parents want to take him to meet Voldemort tomorrow."
Tonks swore, and Harry could practically see him mentally switching to auror mode, his shoulders tightening like he was about to duel. "Bugger. Right. We can't go in and get him ourselves, not without risking making everything worse." He sent a warning look at Harry, who couldn't even be completely offended — going in and rescuing Sully in person had been on his list of options. "Is that his owl?"
"Yeah. Waiting for a reply."
Tonks nodded, and looked frantically around the hallway. Then he dug into his pocket, pulling out a chocolate frog card. "Portus." The card glowed, and Tonks held it out to Harry. "Send him this; it'll take him to the Pottery wards when he says your name. I'll take you over there to wait for him." He glanced at Draco. "Are you okay to wait here? The others will worry if they come home to an empty house."
Draco gave a short nod. Harry summoned writing supplies, scrawling out a quick explanation and tucking the card securely into the envelope. He attached it to the little owl's leg, hurrying over to the still-open front door. "Fly quickly," he murmured to the owl, watching it take off into the bright blue sky.
He turned back to the others, frowning; he had no idea where Sully lived, no idea how long that might take. "We should eat something and head over there," he suggested, and Tonks nodded.
"I was just about to call you in, anyway; Ceri made lunch," he replied. Turning for the kitchen, Draco reached out, catching Harry's hand and bringing it to his lips.
"Be careful, won't you?" he said, and Harry smiled.
"We'll be fine."
He trusted Sully not to let the portkey fall into the wrong hands.
.-.
Harry and Tonks waited outside the gates of the Pottery for hours. Harry was a little surprised that Tonks didn't switch back to his usual female form, but he didn't ask; if he was comfortable, that was all Harry cared about.
They chatted while they waited, though both were regularly checking their watches, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. At last, there was a burst of colour, and Sully appeared with the chocolate frog card clutched in his hand, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He was pale, dark eyes full of stark relief. "Thank you," he gasped, grabbing Harry in a tight hug. Harry hugged back, feeling the younger boy practically collapse against him.
"You're safe," he promised. It took a few moments for Sullivan to gather himself, stepping back with a deep breath. The Ravenclaw looked around.
"Tonks?" he checked, and the auror grinned. Sullivan's eyes widened just a fraction, trailing over his masculine form. "You look great."
There was a strange edge to his tone that had Harry tensing, but the look in Tonks' eyes was almost… sympathetic?
"Where are we?" Sully asked, peering around in confusion. Of course, he couldn't see the house.
"Oh. The Pottery can be found on the northeast edge of Thetford Forest," Harry told him. At once the boy let out a gasp, whipping around to stare at the manor through the open gates that had suddenly appeared. "Come on, let's get you settled in."
"The Goldsteins have turned, too," Sully told him as they headed down the drive. "Anthony's pretending to be a sleeper agent. He won't get Marked, not when he can pretend to be on the Light side. I wouldn't have either, but… Anthony's better at Occlumency than I am. And he knows less. I talk to Luna a lot," he added in explanation. Harry nodded in understanding, though the knowledge still sat sour in his belly. Anthony might know less than Sully, but he still knew enough about Harry's personal life, and his history with Dumbledore.
Harry just hoped Voldemort didn't feel the need to truly press the Ravenclaw for information.
"So be careful what we say around Anthony in future," he finished with a grimace. Sullivan nodded. A sudden thought struck Harry. "Do the Death Eaters know you know about the Goldsteins?" If they were hoping to use Anthony as a sleeper agent, they would not be pleased if they realised Sully had spilled the beans. They might give Anthony a different task, or do something far worse.
Luckily, Sully shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Anthony sent me a letter because he overheard my dad talking to his dad about Death Eater stuff."
Keep treating Anthony as normal, then. Right. They would have to get the word out discreetly. Harry wondered if Draco still had any of his password-protected ink, or if he'd have to ask the twins for more — Anthony's idea to lie low and play Death Eater was a noble one, but Harry needed to make sure his friend knew he had other options.
The residents of the Pottery were surprised to see Harry, but Tinker quickly appeared, then went to retrieve Theo. The Slytherin, as Harry's closest friend amongst the residents, had become the unofficial welcome-wizard for any new arrivals.
"Sullivan," he said in surprise at the top of the stairs, hurrying the rest of the way down to meet the trio. "What happened?"
Sully gave a quick explanation, and Theo scowled. "He's going after the peripheral families, then. Means he's run out of known Dark families to ask."
Harry doubted there was that much asking involved. "That's not a good sign." How many other kids at Hogwarts would find their families turning to Voldemort, would find themselves caught up in it all?
"I'll send Susan a letter. She'll know what to do," Theo said resolutely. Sully perked up.
"We can still write to people from here?" he asked hopefully. To Harry's surprise, it was Tonks who answered.
"As long as you trust them," he confirmed, then winked. "You can still write to me, don't worry."
Since when did Sully and Tonks write to each other? Sure, Harry might have seen the pair of them chatting for a while at his birthday party, but… he shook his head — that was beside the point, and none of his business.
"I need to get back before people start to worry," Harry said, checking his watch; Sirius and Remus would probably be home by now. And if he didn't get back soon, Draco might come after him himself, apparition license or not. "Theo, are you good to show Sully around?"
"Yeah, no problem." Theo clapped the Ravenclaw on the shoulder, offering a small smile. "Come on; you look like you could do with something to eat."
Some of the tension began to seep from Sullivan's shoulders, and he offered Harry a grin that was only a little bit strained. "Thanks for all this, Harry. I… I don't think I could do what Anthony's doing."
"Happy to help," Harry said with a shrug, "and we'll figure out what to do about Anthony later. See what Susan says." Harry was happy to defer such decisions to her; she was the strategy master of their group, after all.
They said their goodbyes, Tonks ruffling Sully's hair fondly, and then the pair of them headed to the edge of the wards to apparate home.
"I didn't know you and Sully were friends," Harry commented, and Tonks smiled.
"Sully's a good kid," he replied. "Needs a bit of help figuring some things out. But we're getting there."
Harry blinked at him, then shook his head slightly, leaning into Tonks' side ready to apparate home.
Again; none of his business.
.-.-.-.
There were five cauldrons simmering at once, and Severus went over his mental checklist, wondering if he had time to start anything else before lunch.
"Remind me again why you're doing this and not Slughorn?" Remus asked from his usual chair in the corner, brows drawn together in amusement. Severus scowled.
"Because Horace has been retired for fifteen years and I don't trust his ability to brew more than one cauldron at a time," he retorted evenly. This was all the regular stock for the Hospital Wing, and he wanted to make sure it was up to standard. Especially with the year ahead looking so fraught.
He anticipated a lot of his Slytherins ending up under Pomfrey's care, and he'd be damned if he let them take inferior medication.
Remus snorted quietly. "Albus might make suspect decisions, but I'm sure he wouldn't hire Slughorn back to teach Potions if he wasn't still competent."
"Debatable," Severus retorted, levitating some powdered bicorn horn with his wand, making sure the exact amount entered every cauldron at the exact same time, turning the liquid inside a vivid red. He reversed the direction of the stirring rods, keen eyes watching every cauldron. "I don't believe that getting me into the Defence position was Dumbledore's only reason for hiring that old social climber."
He saw Remus' gaze narrow. "What do you mean?"
Severus paused, wondering how best to word things so he didn't unnecessarily alarm his partner. "There are other Potions Masters who would quite happily take a position teaching at Hogwarts, even under the current political climate. Ones who wouldn't be quite as… high maintenance as Horace Slughorn." The face Remus made had a soft snort escaping Severus; they both remembered all too well what Slughorn was like, trying to ingratiate himself with any student he thought might have a future in something he could profit off. He was a passable brewer, but Severus knew better. He certainly knew better Masters who would not insist on collecting students like trophies. "But what could Albus gain from having Horace back?" Remus paused. "You think his Wizengamot seat, perhaps?"
"That is likely some of it," Severus agreed, adjusting the heat of the flames beneath his cauldrons. "However… Horace taught for a very long time before his retirement. Almost as long as Albus, even." His lips thinned. "Long enough to have taught young Tom Riddle."
Remus, ever quick on the uptake, looked at him in alarm. "You think he knows something?"
"I think Albus suspects he knows something." Albus was horcrux-hunting now, the incident with the ring had made that clear. Bringing back Horace Slughorn was no coincidence. "And I think Albus is hoping the chance to teach Harry Potter himself is enough to loosen the man up enough to share his knowledge."
A faint growl emerged from Remus' throat, sending a prickle of something not quite fear but not quite arousal down Severus' spine. One of these days he would have to address his inappropriate reactions to his partner's wolf-noises, perhaps.
"Should we be worried about Harry?" came Remus' immediate concern. Severus shook his head.
"I've told him to try and keep in Horace's good books. Find out whatever it is Albus is after, if he can. But he'll be fine — he's got sensible friends, even if he defaults back to an idiot Gryffindor." He smirked slightly. "Draco will keep him in line." Severus wasn't worried about Harry Potter; not as far as Horace Slughorn was concerned, at least.
Remus chuckled. "I suppose. Poor bugger, having to deal with the Slug Club," he teased, laughing at the reflexive shudder of disgust Severus gave just hearing the name. So much of his school time wasted while that odious letch tried to draw him into some lucrative potions scheme or another.
"If it gets us a step above Albus, it'll be worth it." Harry could handle it. He was used to people trying to manipulate him for his fame.
Finally, Severus was able to add his last ingredients to the cauldrons, using a tricky bit of magic to make sure everything was added in perfect intervals, identical in every one. He could feel Remus' gaze on his back, still impressed even after he'd seen Severus do this a thousand times by now. And yet it still made pride flutter in Severus' stomach, just a little. "I still don't see why you're taking on this workload," the werewolf sighed. "You're the Defence teacher now, this isn't your responsibility."
"Technically it is," Severus countered, striding over to lean against the wall beside Remus. "Albus left providing for the school optional in Horace's contract — I suppose the old slug refused to spend his summer slaving away in a lab." He sneered to himself. "Anything Horace chooses not to brew is passed on to me. And, as you can see, Horace chose not to brew anything at all."
Not that Severus would have let him brew for the school anyway — as he'd told Remus, he didn't trust the man to make so much as a Pepper Up in bulk.
"Bastard," Remus muttered with a faint scowl.
"Merlin forbid I have anything else to do with my summer," Severus agreed wryly. Remus smirked, arm sneaking out to latch around Severus' waist, pulling him over until the Slytherin was stood in front of his seated partner.
"Little does he know," Remus teased, amber eyes dancing. "How much longer do these have left?"
Severus didn't even bother looking back at his cauldrons to check how they were doing. "Twelve minutes." He raised an eyebrow at his lover, one hand resting on the back of Remus' neck, leaning over him just a little. "You don't have to stay down here if you're bored."
"I'm not bored," Remus assured, arching into the touch. "But no one else is home, and I was quite hoping to use that opportunity to do something other than watch you brew." His gaze turned intent, and Severus swallowed.
"We have the house to ourselves for at least another two hours." For once, everyone else had scheduled things to do all on the same day. Severus bent down just enough to plant a whisper of a kiss on Remus' eager lips. "Be patient, wolf," he drawled, eyes alight. "I assure you, it will be worth it."
Remus let out a tiny whine as Severus pulled back, chasing his lips hopefully. Severus resisted the urge to give in — if they got distracted now, the last hour and a half of work would be wasted.
Eleven minutes. They could control themselves for eleven minutes.