At this point, Harry felt like he deserved a medal for not hexing Ron Weasley into a gibbering puddle of sludge. Hermione was almost as bad, but she was thankfully distracted by Mrs Weasley declaring the library 'safe'. With less than two weeks left before she was back at Hogwarts, the young witch was determined to read as much as humanly possible.
In-between harassing Harry about the state of his summer homework, his future revision schedule, and anything else she could think to pick at, of course.
Ron just continued to talk to Harry as if they were still best friends, crowing about how great it would be to be back at school and how Harry would kick the Slytherins' arses at quidditch with his Firebolt. The obsession with dominating the other houses — especially Slytherin house — was wearing on his nerves.
Harry had to wonder what their angle was — if they had been told by Dumbledore to continue befriending him, was this really the way they thought to do that? Sure, it might have worked when they first met, but he was eleven and drowning in compulsion charms then! He would've befriended a statue if Dumbledore's spells had directed him to.
It was becoming incredibly clear to him that there was a reason the pair had no friends outside of each other, and Harry.
"Surely this is too much, even for them," he mused to Remus one afternoon, hiding in the werewolf's bedroom. "If they really wanted to try and be friends again, I'd have thought they'd try it a bit more gently."
"I don't think either of those two know what gentle is," Remus replied dryly. "It does seem odd, though. Hermione's a smart girl, she should've realised making you angry isn't likely to endear them to you."
"She just thinks I'm struggling with my feelings," Harry muttered, recalling something he'd overheard her saying to Tonks when she thought Harry couldn't hear. "The only feeling I'm struggling with is the one telling me to punch Ron."
Remus snorted, shaking his head. "At least you've got Ginny and the twins."
Harry made a face — he did, but the twins were locked in their room at all hours frantically trying to develop more joke products for the upcoming school year, and spending time with Ginny by herself was causing Mrs Weasley to make all kinds of uncomfortable comments. "I'm worried about what Dumbledore might have Ron and Hermione do if I'm not friendly with them again soon," he confessed, finally speaking aloud something that had been niggling at him for a while now. "I mean, he clearly knows his compulsions have failed. If he tries more, or…" Harry didn't like to think about how far the headmaster might be willing to go. Ron and Hermione had access to him in Gryffindor Tower; his dorm, his trunk, everything. If Dumbledore pressed them to do some kind of magic on Harry for his own good, there was little he could do to escape it.
"If you need to, you can always fake friendship with them," Remus pointed out. "It'll add another burden to your shoulders, but it might be necessary to keep you safe."
A noncommittal hum sounded in Harry's throat. Then his brow furrowed, as another long-brewing thought finally surfaced aloud. "Do you think Dumbledore has spelled them, like he did me?" He hated how hopeful he sounded. "Put compulsions on them to make them treat me a certain way?" If he hadn't had the security of his other friendships through his fourth year, Ron's treatment of him after his name came out of the Goblet would have devastated him — he would've been desperate to take the redhead back by the time he deigned to apologise. Would Dumbledore go that far, to keep Harry vulnerable?
Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's possible," he admitted, though he sounded doubtful. "There's a meeting before dinner if you like. I can have Severus stay and try to check them."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Would Snape actually be willing to stay for dinner, here?" The man was always one of the first ones to leave when Order meetings ended. Harry hadn't seen him for more than five minutes in total since he'd left Seren Du.
A small, fond smile flickered across Remus' face. "He will if I ask him," he assured, and Harry grinned.
"He'd do anything if you asked him," he teased, watching the werewolf blush. It was strange, to think of Severus Snape in such a way, but it was absolutely true; if there was one thing Harry had learned in the last year, it was that the Slytherin would live and die at the behest of Remus Lupin. "Alright, enough of that," Remus muttered, nudging Harry's shoulder. "Unless you want me to mention the list of things Draco would be willing to do for you."
It was Harry's turn to blush, and he shook his head. "I'll stop," he promised. "But… if Snape wouldn't mind, that would be great." At least then he would know. Then he could stop hoping.
"He might even enjoy it; getting to torture Gryffindors even in the summer," Remus joked. "It'll be good for you, too — blow off some steam with someone who won't treat you like glass."
Harry couldn't deny, that sounded good. He hadn't expected to miss Snape's bluntness so much, but after having half the house pussyfoot around him — even Remus and Sirius sometimes, though they tried not to — he couldn't wait to snipe at someone who would be equally sharp in return.
.-.
Sure enough, when Harry and the other teenagers were allowed down into the kitchen after the Order meeting, there was a tall, black-clad figure stood in the room.
It was worth it just to see the blood drain from Ron's face.
"Professor Snape is staying for dinner," Mrs Weasley declared, false cheer in her voice and confusion in her eyes. Harry couldn't really blame her; if he hadn't asked for it, it never would have happened. He wondered what sort of motive Snape had given for the odd behaviour.
"But—" Any protest Ron might've made died when dark eyes narrowed in his direction. Instead, a tiny squeak escaped him, and he hurried to sit as far away from Snape as possible.
Harry, more than willing to play his part, shot the Potions Master a moody glare. Amusement flashed in the man's eyes for the briefest moment.
Snape ended up sat between Remus and Kingsley; the two most tolerable Order members, as far as he was concerned. Though he played up his disgust at having to sit beside Remus.
Harry was amazed the werewolf could keep a straight face through it all. More than that, he was amazed that no one but him and Sirius seemed to realise that Snape's grumbled insults followed by Remus' too-mild witty retorts were the pair flirting.
Gross.
"So, Severus," Mr Weasley said cheerfully, passing a bowl of cabbage further down the table. "Are you ready for school to go back? Feeling like the castle is too quiet yet?"
"Ready to have my time invaded by imbeciles who can barely brew a Swelling Solution?" Snape drawled, sending a pointed look in the direction of the Gryffindor teens. "I think not."
Mr Weasley chuckled, as if it was supposed to be a joke. "Ah, but I'm sure there's a few talented kids in the mix who make it all worth it."
"We try our best, Dad," Fred chirped bravely, earning a Snape-glare of his own.
"Such a shame you've only got us for one more year, isn't it, Professor?" George added. The pair seemed bolstered by the fact that they — presumably — couldn't earn detention during the holidays. Though Harry noted they weren't quite bold enough to try any pranks at the dinner table. He'd seen George pocket some jelly-bean-like things the moment he'd seen Snape in the kitchen; no doubt the evening's entertainment rescheduled.
"On the contrary, Mr Weasley; I believe the entire school will rejoice if the two of you actually make it to graduation."
That just made the twins grin wider.
The possibility that they might not make it to graduation had Mrs Weasley pursing her lips. "You boys had better buckle down this year," she warned. "You only get one chance to take your NEWTs, after all — you'll never get a good Ministry job without them. I'm of half a mind to ask Professor Snape to keep a stern eye on you, make sure you aren't getting up to trouble."
"I have better things to do than keep a pair of Gryffindors from getting themselves expelled," Snape said coolly. His ire didn't seem to bother Mrs Weasley, who continued to stare down her twin sons.
"You've got a lot to live up to, you know — all three of your older brothers got excellent NEWT results."
Harry hid a scowl behind a forkful of roast lamb — how dare she compare them with their brothers like that? They were different people! Besides, it wasn't like there was anything to truly worry about; Fred and George had excellent grades, when it actually mattered. They might only have three OWLs each, but they were all Os — it took a lot of brains to come up with the prank products and spells they created, after all.
The only thing more laughable than the twins failing their NEWTs was the idea of either of them getting a job at the Ministry.
"Leave the boys be, Molly," Sirius called languidly. "I'm sure they'll do fine in their exams. If even James and I could get our heads on straight long enough to pass our NEWTs, your two will manage alright."
"A fine example, Black — considering you and Potter got more detentions in your seventh year than any other," Snape pointed out acidly. Sirius just grinned at him.
"Aw, it's sweet that you kept count for us, Snivelly."
Snape scowled. "Only to see if a certain number would finally result in expulsion."
"What number did you get to, Sirius?" George asked.
"We'll see if we can beat it." Fred was smirking, right up until a wooden spoon whacked him on the shoulder.
"Absolutely not! Sirius, don't you dare encourage them," Mrs Weasley snapped. "Honestly, think of the kind of example you're setting for Harry, if nothing else."
Sirius glanced over at his godson, and winked. "I'd say Harry's doing grand, all things considered."
"If you mean he's following in his arrogant father's footsteps, mutt, you would be correct." Snape let his eyes land on Harry, challenge clear. A thrill shot down Harry's spine — oh, it was on.
"Don't talk about my dad like that," he retorted hotly, glaring at the professor. "He wasn't arrogant."
"Watch your manners, Potter," Snape scolded. "I dread to think what kind of fanciful lies the mutt and the wolf have been filling your head with this summer, applauding your rule-breaking recklessness." His eyes flashed, a sneer twisting his features. "There won't be a Triwizard Tournament to stroke your over-inflated ego, this year. Perhaps you may finally learn some humility."
"I managed just fine without the three years before the Triwizard," Harry shot back. It was hard to maintain the hateful look in his eyes; this was fun. When he felt a smile threaten to creep through, he drew up on all his frustration at being trapped in Grimmauld. "I'm sure there will be something to keep me busy. Another Death Eater teacher, perhaps. Has Dumbledore hired a new Defence teacher yet?"
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter," Snape corrected. "And that's none of your business."
"That's a no, then." Harry's lips twitched. "Blimey, is it really getting that difficult to find people who don't want to kill me?"
Someone further down the table snickered. Harry thought it might've been Tonks.
"Despite what I'm sure your dogfather has told you, the world — and Hogwarts' staffing practice — does not actually revolve around you," Snape drawled at him.
"Yeah, kid; Defence professors were dropping like flies long before you hit the scene," Bill joked, winking at Harry.
The rest of the Order managed to diffuse the situation, keeping conversation relatively civil through the remainder of dinner — though Harry couldn't help throwing a few more snide remarks Snape's way, which were returned in kind viciously. It felt good, being able to actually argue with someone who wasn't just going to coddle and patronise him. Someone who could handle it if Harry's venomous tongue got a little too sharp.
It helped too that the others were looking at him like he was either utterly mad or incredibly brave, speaking to Snape like that, even outside of school. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but it helped cement Snape's reputation as hated dungeon bat — especially when he promised Harry a week of detention once school started back up.
"You can't do that! It's summer!" Harry argued indignantly, making Snape smirk in satisfaction.
"Watch me," he hissed.
"I think that's enough for one night," Remus cut in, his professorly 'disappointed' face firmly in place. "Harry's had a difficult summer, Severus; you can't punish him for things he says outside of school. Though he really should apologise," he added with a pointed glance at the dark-haired teen. Harry huffed mulishly, glaring up at them.
"Sorry, sir," he bit out. Remus gave him a look that said he might be overdoing it a touch, but Harry held firm.
"No matter," Snape dismissed. "I'm sure he will earn those detentions soon once school begins, if he cannot learn to keep a civil tongue in his head. I should have expected his attitude to get worse once Black became involved in his care."
That set Sirius off again, and really, those two had far too much fun picking at each other.
"Why don't I walk you out," Remus said, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard over Sirius' scathing tone. "Molly, thank you for dinner, it was lovely." He turned the disappointed face back to Harry. "Cub, I expected better of you. Professor Snape is a guest here, and even in the summer he is still your teacher."
Even knowing it was just a front, the tone still sent a squirm of guilt through Harry's gut. But he went full throttle into teenage-angst, scoffing and shoving his chair back. "Whatever," he muttered. "I'll be in the library."
He stalked from the kitchen, managing to make it all the way up to the privacy of the library before bursting into laughter. He didn't have to wait long before the door opened, Remus and Snape slipping in and warding the door behind them.
"Brat," Snape accused without heat, and Harry grinned at him.
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that."
A flicker of a smile was the only answer the tall man gave.
"Yes, yes, very funny, both of you," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, I thought you were going to give Molly a heart attack, the way you two were carrying on. Sirius, too!" He eyed them both exasperatedly. "Sometimes I think I made a mistake in getting you all to befriend each other."
"Too late," Harry chirped, grinning. "Also, like the two of you can talk — frankly I'm astounded no one has realised the truth, all that flirting going on."
That brought a blush to both their faces. "People see what they want to see," Remus said, shrugging. "And no offence, Severus, but no one in that room wants to see even a hint of you having a sex life, let alone with me."
Snape gave his partner a quick smirk, eyes burning. "Their loss."
"Uh, hello, I'm still here, please stop," Harry begged, knowing this was his punishment for being a sassy little shit in front of half the Order. "Back to business, please? Professor, did you manage to test them?"
The pair grew serious, Snape turning back to Harry. "Neither Mr Weasley nor Miss Granger are under any spells, compulsion or otherwise," he confirmed quietly. Harry's jaw tightened — the tiny fragment of hope he'd kept alive in his chest died.
"Right. Everything— that's all them, then. They're working for Dumbledore of their own will."
"Likely he's manipulated them into believing they're helping you. Or, at the very least, helping the wizarding world at large," Snape said. It made Harry feel a little better, but his stomach still soured; it might be Dumbledore's instruction, but their obliviousness to Harry's emotional state was all them.
"Thank you for checking, sir. I appreciate it."
Snape nodded. "I took the liberty of checking the other Weasley children — they, too, are clear. The headmaster evidently does not see them as a threat to his control over you."
Now that was good news, relief rising in Harry. "Hopefully it stays that way." So far, only Remus and Sirius had been enchanted in any way, other than Harry himself. The two people who were most likely to take Harry out of Dumbledore's clutches.
"Keep a keen eye on those close to you — if you believe their behaviour to be suspect, tell me and I shall test them," Snape assured. "We have come too far to let carelessness be our downfall."
The prospect made Harry feel sick; if Dumbledore got suspicious of any of the heirs, it would only take a few well-placed compulsions and perhaps some truth serum to have all of Harry's work destroyed.
"We'll all be vigilant," he promised.
Satisfied, Snape nodded, then turned to Remus. "Do you need anything further, or can we go?"
"You go, I'll be over in a few." Remus ran a gentle hand down Snape's arm, giving him a look that Harry couldn't begin to decipher. Snape merely nodded, and disapparated.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, eyeing the werewolf hesitantly. Why would Remus need to stay behind?
"You tell me," Remus returned. "Those digs about the Defence professor weren't just to rile up Severus."
Remorse flooded Harry's gut. "You know I wasn't talking about you, right?" he assured quickly. "That night with Wormtail was an accident — you were the best Defence professor I've ever had, and you never should have left. I don't count you in the number that tried to kill me." He didn't want Remus to think Harry blamed him for what happened, even for a minute.
The man smiled slightly. "That's good to know, but that wasn't what I meant." Harry blinked, confused. "Are you that worried about this year's teacher endangering you?"
"Oh. Well, uh, track record hasn't been fantastic," Harry pointed out. "I wouldn't say worried, more… expecting the worst? Though it is concerning that we're this close to term and don't have one yet." Anyone who was such a last-minute hire was bound to be a problem, for one reason or another.
"You're not wrong, there," Remus agreed with a grimace. "With any luck, you'll get someone who's just incompetent rather than actually dangerous."
Harry, thinking of Lockhart, didn't say anything about how the former could easily become the latter. "As long as I pass my OWLs, I don't mind either way."
"I think that's one subject you don't have to worry about, cub," Remus said, ruffling Harry's hair. "You could take your Defence OWL tomorrow and get an O, I'm sure of it."
Harry preened; truthfully, he couldn't wait to take his exams. To put in to practice all the studying he'd been doing in secret, all the progress he'd been hiding.
"It's Potions I'm hoping for the O in," he admitted. "I want to see Snape's face when he has to admit I'm not as hopeless as he insisted."
Remus laughed. "Severus has every faith in you getting an O. He wouldn't have let you ease off your Potions lessons earlier in the summer, otherwise." His smile turned fond, as it often did regarding the dark-haired Slytherin. "He'll push you hard in class, but that's just because he knows you can do well. Even if he'll have to put up a fuss about letting Harry Potter into his NEWT class," he added teasingly.
Looking at him, Harry couldn't believe no one in the house was aware of the true relationship between the two. Hell, that they had never let it slip as teenagers, let alone the adults they were now. "Hey, Remus?" The werewolf quirked an eyebrow expectantly. "How come even the Order don't know about you and Snape? I can understand keeping it secret at school and everything, but… everyone here already knows what side he's on." It had to be exhausting, to pretend to hate the man you loved even in the comfort of a place that was supposed to be safe. The Marauder's gaze grew melancholy as he met Harry's eyes. "It's complicated, Harry," he sighed. "Part of it is just Severus' reluctance to let his guard down among people he doesn't trust. Half the Order think he's still loyal to Voldemort and just playing Albus to keep himself safe. If even one person were to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong people…"
Harry grimaced — it could spell Snape's death.
"But on top of that, we can't let Dumbledore find out. So much of his trust in Severus — so much of Severus' position, and the knowledge he gets from it — is because he believes Severus owes everything to him. He needs to believe that Severus does not trust anyone but him; that he has nothing of his own to live for." There was pain in his eyes — a familiar kind of pain, to Harry.
He wondered how long Snape had gone believing that was the truth.
"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. "That— that's no way to live."
"It is what it is," Remus dismissed, managing a half-smile. "We have always kept our relationship hidden, and it has served us well so far. Eventually it will not be necessary, but until then… I have him back in my life, and that's the most important thing. I don't need other people to be aware of my love for it to be real."
Harry couldn't imagine what those twelve years were like for them, when Sirius was in Azkaban and Snape and Remus were apart and all of them were so, so lonely in so many ways. They had been hard enough for Harry, as a child. The adults had all kinds of other problems.
He couldn't imagine having to spend twelve years pretending he didn't feel the way he did about Draco.
"I hope you get to be open about it, soon," he said instead. Remus smiled, squeezing his shoulder.
"You and me both, cub." He glanced up at the clock. "I'll take my leave, if you don't mind? I think you've been in here long enough for the others to think you're done sulking."
Harry grimaced; he was amazed they hadn't been interrupted already. "Yeah, probably. See you tomorrow?"
Remus hugged him, kissing the top of his head. If Harry grew much more, he'd have to bend down a little for the werewolf to do that, and it made him grin. "Bright and early. Have a good night, cub. Sleep well."
"You, too."
Remus stepped back, and in the blink of an eye he was gone. Harry's stomach clenched enviously — Snape and Remus got to go back to Seren Du and be alone together.
One day, he would get to be back there, with Draco, and with his family. He just had to hold on until then.
.-.-.
The weekend brought with it a buzz of excitement, and a storm of baking courtesy of Mrs Weasley.
Charlie was home.
As promised, he came for dinner the day he returned from Romania, a still-red burn on his forearm that he hadn't even bothered to try and hide from his mother's disapproving gaze. He showed up with Bill, immediately catching Ginny as she threw herself at her older brother. "Oof, watch your elbows, there, Gin," he joked, mock-winded even as he lifted her off her feet in a hug. The rest of his siblings crowded him, full of questions about the Welsh reserve and what Charlie would be doing there. Harry hung back, though Charlie still managed to wade through the sea of redheads to give Harry a hug.
"Good to see you, kid," he enthused, then his eyes darkened. "I'm sorry about Diggory. And your cousin."
Harry's heart clenched. "Yeah. Thanks. Welcome back, though."
"Oh, not you again!" Tonks' loud groan made them both look up — she was stood in the doorway, smirking at Charlie. "I thought I got rid of you for good."
"Shut up, you love me," Charlie declared, striding across to wrap the auror in a tighter hug than even Ginny had earned. Tonks yelped, shoving him away when he tried to smack an exaggerated kiss to her cheek.
Harry had forgotten the pair were friends; it seemed like a lifetime ago that he'd been first introduced to Tonks at the Quidditch World Cup. "I hope you get eaten by a dragon," Tonks said, wiping her cheek with an exaggerated grimace. Charlie barked out a laugh.
"Missed you, too, mate."
The commotion had drawn the last few members of the household down to the kitchen; Sirius stood in the doorway, Remus at his shoulder, looking both amused and bewildered by the pair's antics.
"You must be Charlie," Sirius greeted, holding out a hand. Charlie shook it, blue eyes trailing appraisingly over Sirius.
"And you're the infamous Sirius Black," he returned. "Have to say, you look a lot better than you do in those Wanted posters." His cheeks dimpled in a grin when Sirius laughed.
"I should hope so! Those Azkaban photographers never got my good side."
Remus introduced himself as well, and the next thing Harry knew they were all being herded to the table, which was groaning under the weight of all the food Mrs Weasley had cooked to celebrate her son's return.
For once, Harry was entirely overlooked in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place — everyone wanted to know what Charlie had been up to since the First Task, which was the last time he'd been home. The stocky redhead was in fine form, regaling them all with stories of his dragons, and the coworkers he'd left behind in Romania. He sounded sad to have parted from them, but his joy at being back with his family was obvious.
No one even looked Harry's way, except when Charlie told him the Horntail's eggs had hatched, and she was more ferocious than ever. "In case you ever fancy round two," he joked, blue eyes sparkling. Harry snorted.
"I'll stick to quidditch, thanks," he replied dryly. Charlie could keep his dragons, thank you very much.
.-.-.
His return to Hogwarts was so close Harry could almost taste it — so close he'd entirely forgotten about booklists, until Ginny knocked on his bedroom door with two envelopes in her hand. "Cutting it a bit close, aren't they," she remarked, tearing into her own. "Good thing there's only two new books," Harry agreed, scanning his list for the coming year. Ginny huffed.
"Speak for yourself. I'm lucky I can have George's old books — Diagon's gonna be a nightmare."
Harry grimaced. "Are we going to owl-order, or…?"
"Mum's gonna pop out and grab everything, once we've figured out what we all need. So I guess you'll be owl-ordering." Her brown eyes were knowing — she was fully aware of her mother's forays into Harry's vault, and the security measures put in place to stop that. Harry's stomach clenched; no one had noticed anything amiss, yet. Hopefully Gringotts could keep her out without putting suspicion on Harry.
Ginny was eyeing the envelope in his hand expectantly, and Harry peered at it — just the two pieces of parchment, as always. "What?" he asked her, baffled.
"Oh, nothing. I was just expecting— well, fifth year, innit? Prefect badges?"
"Oh yeah." That had completely slipped Harry's mind. "You think Nev, maybe?"
Ginny brightened, "I hope so. His gran would be dead pleased."
Harry hoped so, too; Neville would make a great prefect. It might encourage him out of his shell a bit more, too.
There was a high-pitched shriek from downstairs, closely followed by Mrs Black spitting profanities from her portrait. Harry and Ginny shared a knowing look. "Hermione?"
"Hermione," Ginny agreed.
There was no way the female Gryffindor prefect wasn't her. "Merlin help us," Harry muttered under his breath, making the redhead giggle. The last thing Hermione needed was the illusion of authority.
Deciding to get it over with, the pair headed downstairs to find Harry's year mates — sure enough, Hermione was holding a shiny prefect's badge like it was the most precious thing in the world.
The surprise was the matching badge in Ron's hand.
"No way," Ginny murmured. Then, louder; "Ron, you're a prefect?" She said the word like one might say fungus or pus-filled boil. Her brother glared at her.
"What's that supposed to mean? Yeah, I'm a prefect." He squared his jaw in challenge, eyes flicking smugly towards Harry.
"What?" Mrs Weasley had chosen that exact moment to come by, carrying a pile of laundry. Ron looked up, and showed his mother the badge. "Oh! Oh, my! Ronnie!"
The twins were summoned by the commotion, and looked equally as disgusted as Ginny when they realised what had happened. Their jokes couldn't quite hide the flash of pain that crossed both their faces when Mrs Weasley declared that was 'everyone in the family'.
"Congrats, Ron," Harry said once she'd left with the promise of buying Ron a new broom. Ron's smug look returned, and Harry smiled evenly. "Good to see Dumbledore has faith in your ability to handle the workload of a prefect on top of your OWL revision. Personally, I'm glad I only have to deal with studying and quidditch."
The redhead's expression faltered — clearly he hadn't thought about the actual effort involved in being a prefect.
"You've got your priorities right, Harry," George agreed, grinning. "None of that responsibility nonsense."
"There's no need to be jealous, Harry," Hermione said primly. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore had his reasons for picking Ron over you."
"Oh, completely," Harry agreed, throwing her off her stride. "I get into way too much trouble, he'd look bad to reward me for it. Nah, seriously, best of luck to both of you. Though I'm sorry it's probably fucked up those revision schedules you worked so hard on, Hermione."
Beside him, he noticed Ginny's cheek twitch with the effort of holding a straight face. Hermione frowned. "Oh, no, you're right — I should re-write those now!" She turned as if to leave, then paused. "Harry, is it alright if I borrow Hedwig, to tell Mum and Dad? You don't need her, do you?"
Harry was tempted to say no just to be difficult, but Hedwig hadn't really left Grimmauld since Harry had arrived; he hadn't wanted to risk writing to anyone, not sure what Dumbledore might consider unacceptable. "Yeah, go for it; she could do with the chance to stretch her wings. I think she's in the upstairs parlour, the one with the big window. I'm gonna go finish packing."
And so he went upstairs, leaving Hermione eagerly chattering to Ron about the adjustments she would make to their revision schedules — oblivious to the dawning horror on Ron's face.
Harry smirked to himself; oh, that was far too easy.
If Dumbledore was expecting Harry to be upset about not making prefect, he truly had lost his grasp on things.
.-.
Despite what he'd said, Harry didn't really have that much packing to do. He'd only brought from Seren Du what he would need for the school year, and a few quick spells had everything stacking neatly into his trunk. But with his usual shadows aflutter with the news of prefect-hood, Harry took the opportunity to dig out his two-way mirror. "Draco Malfoy."
After a few moments, the blond's face appeared in the glass. A tightness in Harry's chest eased. "Hey. I've missed you."
Draco's face softened. "Missed you, too, Scarhead." There were dark circles under his eyes that made Harry's heart ache. "Merlin, I can't wait to be out of here tomorrow. Did you see booklists finally arrived? I thought they'd forgotten, honestly."
"I think Dumbledore only just managed to find a new Defence professor," Harry supplied. "I have to say, I'm not impressed at their book choice, whoever they are. Slinkhard, ugh." He made a face, and Draco hummed in agreement.
"I don't know who it is, but Father said Fudge is very pleased by the appointment, so that doesn't bode well."
It definitely didn't; a tiny knot of trepidation formed in Harry's belly. Perhaps he'd been too flippant in his jokes about teachers trying to kill him.
Teachers trying to support the Ministry might be worse.
"Anyway, that doesn't matter. Let's see it, then," Draco prompted, lips curving in a smirk. Harry blinked, perplexed. "Come on, Potter." His silver eyes darkened playfully. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Then his hand appeared in frame, long fingers carefully cradling a green and silver prefect badge.
"Oh!" Harry's stomach did a complicated little flip of emotions — joy; pride; the briefest snatch of jealousy; frustration, that Draco would now be busier. "I, uh, didn't make prefect."
Two pale blond eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Dumbledore, giving me authority?" Harry pointed out with a snort. "Don't be ridiculous — it might make me think I'm actually worth something." He rolled his eyes, hoping Draco didn't catch the little twist of bitterness as his joke fell a fraction short.
"I expected he might want to show a bit of support for his Golden Boy, considering what the Prophet has been saying about you all summer," Draco reasoned. His brow furrowed. "I'm sorry. Who is it, then; Longbottom?" Harry must have made some kind of face, for Draco blanched. "Don't tell me it's Weasel."
"Him and Hermione," Harry confirmed dryly. "Everyone's very proud."
"Merlin's beard," Draco muttered. "Granger was a given — that badge has been hers since first year. But Weasley, seriously? What was Dumbledore thinking?"
"Probably some kind of incentive for Ron to keep an eye on me," Harry said with a shrug. He'd had some time to think about it, and it made sense. "Give him something to lord over me to keep him happy — something the famous Harry Potter doesn't have. Better than giving it to me and having another thing for Ron to be jealous over." God, Harry was exhausted by all the posturing. "I think I've pissed him off by not being mad about it. As far as I'm concerned, it's one less thing for me to worry about." He smirked at his boyfriend. "I was hoping it would mean more free time in my schedule to sneak about in unused classrooms, but clearly I'm going to be awfully lonely on that front."
"On the contrary, it just means I have a reason to be out past curfew, while you've got that fancy cloak of yours," Draco returned, a huskiness to his voice that made Harry's heart stutter.
His birthday felt like eons ago, now. He couldn't wait to have Draco in his arms again. "Seriously, though, I'm proud of you. I know you worked really hard to get that badge." Ron would probably say that Draco's father had bought him the badge, but Draco's grades spoke for themselves.
A pale flush rose on the blond's cheeks, a pleased smile crossing his lips. "Thanks. I expected it to be Blaise, honestly; he's a more politically sound choice."
He was the only Slytherin fifth year boy not directly connected to Death Eaters. "Your father aside, I think Snape would've had a fit if it was anyone but you. Dumbledore wouldn't have overruled him on this." Not like he almost definitely had with the Gryffindors — there was no way McGonagall would have picked Ron Weasley over the rest. Hell, even Seamus would have been a better choice than Ron.
"I can't wait to take points off Weasley the first time he insults me," Draco said with a smirk, and Harry laughed.
"God, there goes our chance at the House Cup." Even Ron's ability to take points wouldn't save them, considering prefect point adjustments had to be reviewed by the head of house.
There was a strange thud on Draco's side of the mirror, and the Slytherin boy froze. "I have to go," he whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Before Harry could say anything, the mirror was blank. He growled under his breath.
The sooner Draco was away from that hellhole, the better.
.-.-.
That evening, there was a party at Grimmauld Place, celebrating the two new prefects. Someone had conjured a banner, and the kitchen was decorated in red and gold. Half the Order was there — whether to celebrate or just to enjoy free food — and Mrs Weasley was happier than she had been all summer as she flitted between groups of people, offering up drinks and food, happily gushing about the newest prefect in the family.
"Harry, dear, I'm so sorry but I wasn't able to get your new schoolbooks," she said, an annoyed frown on her face. Harry tensed. "The goblins have changed the rules — they wouldn't let me in without you there, even though I had your key. I would have just bought them with the rest, but, well; the Slinkhard book isn't cheap, and…"
"Not to worry, Mrs Weasley, I'll owl-order them tonight before I go to bed." Hedwig had already returned from Hermione's parents, bearing a congratulatory letter and some sugar-free sweets. "They're probably just tightening security because of Voldemort being back. Worried about people under Imperius and the like." He said this with a lackadaisical shrug and a half smile, and the Weasley matriarch sighed.
"Something like that, I'd imagine. Really, I don't know what Albus was thinking, leaving the school lists so late in the term. All those poor first years in Diagon today, hardly knew which way was up!" She bustled off, heading to greet Kingsley as he flooed in, still in his auror uniform.
Harry ended up stood with Charlie and Tonks, butterbeer in hand. The metamorphmagus had joined the Weasley clan this evening, with waist-length red hair and freckles across her cheeks.
"Sprout would've rather dug up the greenhouses than made me prefect," Tonks declared, grinning. "This one, on the other hand, was Minerva McGonagall's pride and joy." She elbowed Charlie in the side, and he went pink.
"Only when I wasn't in detention for trying to sneak creatures into the dorm," he protested. "Or in detention with you for some kind of trouble or another."
"Andromeda Black's daughter? Trouble?" Sirius cut in with a mock-gasp, hand going to his chest theatrically. "Well, I never!"
Harry had known Charlie and Tonks were in the same year at Hogwarts, but it was only now he was realising how inseparable they had been in their school days. "You'd almost think trouble runs in the family or something," he piped up cheekily. Sirius barked a laugh.
"Or something," he agreed. "Don't worry, cousin dear; us Blacks never made prefects. Only Cousin Cissa ever got a badge from our generation of the family."
"You mean you weren't a prefect?" Harry feigned shock, earning another laugh.
"Me? You know damn well I was in too many detentions with James to ever get that badge. No, that was dear old Remus' honour. He was the good boy."
They looked over, where Remus was seemingly trapped in a conversation with Hermione — a rather one-sided conversation, by the looks of things.
"I can see that," Charlie mused. "He's got that sort of trustworthy vibe to him."
"It's all bullshit," Sirius assured. "He was responsible for just as many pranks as me and Jamie — he was just better at not getting caught. Damn werewolf nose, little cheater," he grumbled fondly. He squeezed between Charlie and Harry, slinging an arm over his godson's shoulders. "Nah, a prefect badge is more trouble than it's worth. Now, the quidditch captain badge, that's the one you want, pup. All the perks, none of the responsibility. The prefect's bathroom is a hell of a thing."
"You weren't quidditch captain either," Harry said, raising an eyebrow, and Sirius winked.
"No, but Robin Waters was Ravenclaw captain, and he was very generous with the password. For the right price."
"Spare me the details," Harry said, mock-gagging and making Charlie snicker.
"Quidditch captain is definitely less work than prefect," he said, then grinned cheekily. "I would know, I was both."
"Ooh, alright, show-off," Sirius teased, grey eyes sparkling.
Across the room, Harry saw Ron glance his way — all afternoon, the redhead had been waiting for Harry to do something, or say something; any kind of sign of jealousy. It had to be eating him up inside that Harry genuinely didn't care about badges.
Tonks slipped away to go talk to Kingsley about something, and Harry left Charlie and Sirius playfully sniping at each other in order to go and get more food. When he turned back to the crowd, he jumped — Mad-Eye Moody was right at his shoulder, electric blue eye fixed on Harry. "Alright, Potter. I've got something to show you."
Harry knew this wasn't the same man who had hounded him all of the year previous, but that didn't make him any less uneasy — all through the summer, it had become clear that Moody was Dumbledore's man through and through, and Harry didn't trust him for a second. Nevertheless, he let the man lead the way to a couple of empty chairs at the kitchen table, and watched as a folded photograph was pulled from his pocket.
He had no idea why that was something Moody thought he might enjoy. Staring at all the people who had been part of the original Order, so many of them now dead or worse — seeing Neville's smiling parents, stood not far from his own. So many other too-young faces, with no idea what was in store for them.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
"Yeah, thanks, Moody," he muttered, handing the picture back and making a quick escape. He didn't get far — Mrs Weasley called a toast to the two prefects, her cheeks rosy and her arm around a squirming Ron, a beaming Hermione on her other side.
In another life, Harry might have felt something seeing that; envy, or pride, or something. Mostly he was just bored.
Charlie had cracked open a bottle of firewhiskey — keeping it carefully hidden from his parents as it was passed around Bill and Tonks and even Kingsley. As tempting as it was to stay and watch them get tipsy, Harry knew nothing truly interesting would happen with Mrs Weasley around. Instead, he snuck over to the twins, who were daring Ginny to eat increasingly suspect Bertie Botts Beans.
"Want to go upstairs?" he asked quietly, eyes darting towards the door.
"Hell yes," came Ginny's immediate response, throwing a strange purple bean at Fred. "Cards?"
The four of them slunk out of the kitchen — noticed by Sirius and Bill, but not stopped — and tiptoed past Mrs Black's portrait, heading for Harry's room. There, they shut the door and made themselves comfortable on the floor, Harry pulling a pack of cards out of his satchel where it waited with his clothes for the next day.
"Have to say, mate, I'll be pleased to see the back of this house," George remarked, shuffling the cards expertly. Harry made a noise of agreement.
"I wish I wasn't leaving Sirius behind. But it'll be great to be back at school with everyone."
"You missing your boyfriend?" Fred cooed, laughing when Harry's cheeks reddened.
"Hang on, do you two know who it is?" Ginny asked, narrowing her eyes at her twin brothers. The pair shared a look.
"We can neither confirm nor deny," George said, though he was grinning, which really gave it away in itself. Ginny scowled.
"Not fair."
"Sorry, Gin. It's not just my secret to tell," Harry apologised halfheartedly. There was a lot she knew, but still plenty she didn't, and Harry wasn't sure how good her Occlumency was yet. Draco's safety was too important.
Ginny mock-sniffed. "See if I give you any of the good gossip about my own love life, Potter."
He made a face that had her kicking him in the shin. "You can definitely keep that gossip to yourself. Even if it's Neville. Especially if it's Neville." There were some things he didn't need to know about his best friend and his pseudo-little sister.
Mention of the other Gryffindor had Ginny blushing, which of course had the twins teasing her relentlessly; first about Neville, but then about some Ravenclaw boy she'd apparently been writing to.
Harry shook his head, still bewildered by the whole situation. They'd sort it out eventually, he hoped.
Obviously the party downstairs was not quite as exciting as intended; one by one, people trailed up to Harry's room — first Sirius, flushed in the face and starting to edge into melancholy at the thought of them all going to school in the morning. Shortly followed by Bill, complaining about people insisting he got a haircut. Charlie arrived soon after, which of course meant Tonks joined too, and then Remus sniffed them out, looking amused to see so many people crammed into Harry's bedroom.
"So this is where the real party ended up, is it?" he remarked dryly, snatching the bottle of firewhiskey from Sirius' hands and necking back a shot. "Molly keeps thinking everyone's gone home without saying goodbye."
"Whoops," Charlie giggled, leaning back against the edge of Harry's bed. "We probably shouldn't stay long, anyway. Work in the morning and all that."
"And you kids have a train to catch," Tonks said, sticking her tongue out at the Gryffindor teens. "Which means I've got to make sure you get to that train."
"Ugh, we've got a guard?"
"You've got a guard," Bill corrected. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Lucky me."
Someone downstairs made some sort of loud noise, which set off Mrs Black's portrait. Sirius groaned, dragging himself to his feet. "I'd better deal with that," he muttered, squeezing past Charlie and between the twins, eventually reaching the door. He swayed a little as he walked, and Harry and Remus both sighed.
"We knew this day would be difficult for him," Remus said, meeting Harry's gaze sadly. "I'll go make sure he doesn't drink himself to death. Get to bed, kids, it's getting late."
"Yes, Professor," Tonks sing-songed, before bursting into giggles. The werewolf rolled his eyes.
"I wasn't talking to you, but good to know where your mental age is at," he joked, shaking his head. "Goodnight, everyone."
That seemed to be the unspoken end of the party; Ginny snuck away before her mum or Hermione could find her and say anything about her being in Harry's room. The twins apparated back to their own bedroom. Tonks assured Harry she'd see him in the morning and slipped out; before the two eldest Weasleys could do the same, Harry reached out to grab Charlie's arm. "Hey, Charlie; y'know how you owe me a favour? From the seeker's match last summer?"
"What do you need?" the redhead asked without hesitation. Harry bit his lip.
"I… would you keep an eye on Sirius, while I'm at school? Just drop in here every now and then, make sure he's doing alright. Make sure your mum isn't bothering him too much. I just— I worry about him, cooped up here." Sure, Sirius might be able to get to Seren Du sometimes, but it wouldn't be often enough for Harry's liking.
Charlie's face softened, and he patted Harry's shoulder. "I'd do that even if I didn't owe you one," he assured. "Don't you worry, kid. Sirius is a good bloke; we'll keep him from getting too lonely."
Bill muttered something that Harry didn't quite catch, but whatever it was had Charlie blushing as red as his hair, glaring at his brother. "Shut up," he hissed, turning back to Harry. "You just worry about your own stuff, let us take care of Sirius, yeah?"
Harry grinned, a weight off his shoulders as he bid the pair goodnight, finally alone in his room.
Sirius would probably be fine. But it couldn't hurt to have a couple extra pairs of eyes on him, just to make sure.