Little Monsters - Sanguin - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: Black Dog

Chapter Text

Godric’s Hollow, a small village in Cornwall, it was a Saturday night but the small town was deathly quiet. The ancient homes sat warm and still in the autumn cold, families sleeping soundly, children crashing after consuming far too much sugar, parents sharing a drink in the silence that followed bedtime. Pumpkins sat with their long since melted candles flickering weekly in their gaping mouths, grinning into the night.

A rat runs along the ground, jumping over discarded litter left from the earlier festivities Hallow’s Eve. A man appears from the skittish figure, hunched and low, as if waiting for a blow.

“The Potters live in Godric’s Hollow.” He whispers, so shaky and scared, weak. The magic in the words shimmers in the air, and another cottage appears in the street, a small house with a garden filled with roses and ivy.

“You may go.” Voldemort dismisses Peter with a swish of his wrist, the shorter man nods gratefully and disappears almost immediately, eager to leave.

The windows of the cottage are dark, single pained and latticed, an old building thrumming with even older magic. They would know any intruder was there as soon as he stepped past the wrought iron gate, it would not help them.

The ground was wet beneath hard boots, the gravel of the garden path crunching quietly. There was a stir within the house, Voldemort felt the wards shake as he entered, he chuckled under his breath, was this the best Dumbledore could do to protect his most loyal followers?

Voldemort raised his wand at the front door and it splintered before him, the wood scattering through a family room.

“Take Hari and run! I’ll hold him off!” A man’s voice shouted, accompanied by the stumbling of bare feet down carpeted stairs. James Potter stood before Voldemort, dressed in pyjamas, without a wand and a fierce determination in his eyes. It did him little good.

He was dead within seconds.

Voldemort stepped over the body, brown eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He took the stairs slowly, he was in no rush, the anti-apparation wards set to protect them, now trapped them like mice.

The upstairs hall held three doors, one flung open to a bedroom, the second a bathroom, the third thrummed with magic. Voldemort stepped towards the third, the wards were strongest here, and fresh. Thrown up in fear and panic, whoever cast them was as strong as they were terrified, they would not be strong enough.

It took less than a minute to discard the wards, longer than it should have, but not long enough for them to escape. The door burst open to find Lily Evans with wand grasped in one bloodied hand, and a bundle of blankets wrapped around a crying child in the other.

“You will not have Hari!” She screamed, casting at him without a seconds thought or hesitation. Voldemort discarded the curses with a flick of his wand.

“Stupid girl! Hand me the child, and you will live.” He hissed in return.

“f*ck you!” She screamed throwing more curses at him, but they were weak and getting weaker. Voldemort scoffed, Severus had begged for this woman’s life, had explained she was a brilliant witch, beyond the skills of a mudblood. He was clearly a besotted fool.

Voldemort cast the final curse, annoyance curling his lip in disgust. The girl fell to the ground in an anguished cry, she fell atop her child, the infant wailed as he approached. He lifted his wand again.

“It will only last moment.” He laughed cruelly.

Voldemort was many things, he was old, and he was powerful, he was cruel and without mercy, but most of all, he was arrogant.

So sure of his strength, he didn’t think to question why Lily Evans had been bleeding. So certain in his victory, he didn’t stop to consider why the muggleborn’s magic had been so weak in duelling him, but so strong in her wards. Voldemort had so firmly believed in the ineffectiveness of his prey, it didn’t occur to him to question the smears of blood on the child’s forehead, he didn’t stop to wonder at the shapes the patterns took. Voldemort believed so strongly in the weakness of lesser bloodlines, he never once entertained the thought of a muggleborn like Lily Evans studying the dark magics. Voldemort never felt the sureness of a parents love, of the uncompromising dedication of a mother desperate to save her child. It never occurred to him that anyone would study the magic of death for anything other for a desire to live forever.

And that is why Lily Evans was the one to destroy him.

The killing curse shattered against the magic smothering the child, its fragments splitting the air around Voldemort and turning to consume him. His soul shuddered and cracked with an agonising snap.

Harriet scuffed her trainers along the ground as she swung on the creaky old swing, her short nails picked at the peeling orange paint of the seat. Her stomach growled angrily at her, the sun was setting soon, she’d be allowed back in the house to make dinner. She thought about what she would make for the Dursley’s tonight, something that she could sneak bites of as she cooked without them noticing. Distracted by thoughts of roast chicken and crispy potatoes, she didn’t notice Dudley approaching with his friends.

“Aww look we found her.” Her older cousin called, Harriet’s head snapped to attention, sh*t. She thought, quickly darting her eyes to the two gates leading into the small park. Dudley’s huge frame blocked the nearest one, but she reckoned she could make it to the second before they grabbed her.

“What do you want Dudley?” She asked, standing up from the swing.

“Oooh she sounds mad Duds.” One of Dudley’s friends laughed, Henry his name was, she knew him, the other friend was new. He had ugly rat coloured hair and stood closest to Harriet’s escape, he remained quiet.

“Now now, don’t get angry, we just want to play.” Dursley said with a smile that made Harriet’s skin crawl. She knew what that meant, it meant locking her in a telephone box and not her not being let out until the neighbours found her hours later. It meant ‘cops and robbers’ where Dudley chased her with a BB gun, she still had scars from when he’d pinned her down and shot all the pellets directly into her shoulder. No. ‘Playing’ was not something Harriet was going to do. “Don’t be boring.”

“Leave me alone, will you?” Harriet snapped at the older boys, “I just want to be left alone.”

She took a few more steps towards the far gate, hoping to get some more distance before she ran for it. She’d always been small, but she was also fast, even more so since she’d started quidditch.

“Oh, come on! It’s a new game, you’ll like it!” Dursley pressed, “Paul here came up with it.” He gestured a thumb at Paul, the new boy.

“Don’t worry you don’t have to do anything.” Paul said in a way that was whatever the opposite of reassuring was. Whatever game they had planned Harriet was more certain than ever that she wanted to get as far away as fast as possible. As the boys took another step towards her, Harriet launched off the dead grass beneath her trainers and ran as fast as she could to the gate.

“sh*t!”

“Get her Paul!”

Harriet didn’t look back to see how close behind they were, she zeroed in on the gate and willed her body faster and faster, her chest ached, and her legs burned as she ran. She skidded to slow down and pull the gate open but as soon as her fingers wrapped around the warm metal bars, skinny strong arms wrapped around her waist. Harriet screamed as she clawed at the hands grabbing her.

“LET ME GO LET ME GO.” She cried out as she was swung around and thrown onto the dusty ground, the wind was knocked from her lungs, her vision blurred as her glasses flew from her face. She gasped unable to scream anymore as she saw Paul leaning over her. Dudley quickly caught up and Henry followed, quickly two sets of hands were pinning her down, Harriet kicked and spat as tried desperately to get free.

“Grab her, Henry.” She heard Paul order the other boy as he tried to avoid being bitten or scratched by the screaming thirteen-year-old below them.

“Wait what?” Henry stuttered, “You didn’t say anything about that!” The older boy paled as he turned to Dudley, who didn’t even seem to notice him.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Paul growled as he used a knee to pin down Harriet across her throat, Harriet cried out at the pain and kicked her legs some more, desperately trying to stop the boy from trying to grab her belt.

“No, no, stop please!” Harriet screamed but her windpipe was being crushed and the words clawed at her throat as they burst past her lips. She closed her eyes and threw her body wildly against them.

“WHAT THE f*ck IS THAT?!” Dudley cried out, Harriet opened her eyes in time to see a large black mass launch itself into her assailants. Freed from their grasp she kicked herself away until her back was against the bars, she tried to focus her eyes to see what had happened. As her vision cleared, she saw Dudley bent over his arm, screaming over the buckets of blood that seemed to cover it, but from the looks of it Dudley had been lucky. To the left she saw Paul screaming in a sickly gurgled way as a giant black dog ripped at his throat. It was at that moment that Harriet lost consciousness.

When she woke, she found herself in a bed, a bed with scratchy sheets. The room smelt like a swimming pool, clean and empty, she heard a quiet beeping next to her. Harriet opened her eyes to the blurry white room, she searched around with her hands until they landed on a set of glasses on a table beside her. Once she put them on the room cleared, she was in a hospital, and Aunt Petunia was sat up in a chair at the bottom of her bed. Her lips were pursed, creasing her red lipstick, as she concentrated on some cross-stitch on her lap.

Harriet tried to sit up but was stopped by the searing pain in her chest, she let out a soft cry, she knew what a broken rib felt like. Which is what made it strange that she found herself in the hospital, she had much worse injuries from Dudley or her uncle, they’d never taken her in before.

Aunt Petunia’s gaze latched onto Harriet when she heard her wake.

“See? I told them you were fine. Told them not to bother.” She tutted, then turned back to her sewing.

“What happened?” Harriet meant to ask, but her voice came out like broken glass through her throat. Petunia slammed her stitching down.

“Oh, like you don’t know.” She hissed at the girl. “You little monster, my son is in intensive care right now, that beast you summoned nearly ripped off his arm!”

“Beast?” Harriet whispered, and then she remembered, the dog, the park, Paul. “I-I didn’t-“

“Save it.” Petunia scolded, “I won’t hear anymore of your lies.” The older woman stood from her chair and grabbed her sewing. “I should be with my child right now, not sitting here with you. But Dudley is lucky isn’t he? You nearly killed the other poor boy.”

Harriet’s blood ran cold. “The other boy… Paul.” She felt sick to say his name. “What happened?”

Petunia’s lip turned up in disgust. “Don’t act innocent with me, I know you girl, you’re lucky my husband was at work when they found you both.” The went to leave, then stopped at the door. “Mr Dumbledore will be here soon to take you back to that school-“ She said the word with bile “- early. They are collecting your belongings now.” Then Aunt Petunia left, and Harriet was on her own.

Harriet sat on the bed in the Leaky Cauldron less than an hour later, she drank the potions she’d been given, and soon her ribs no longer ached, and her throat no longer felt as though it had been torn in two. She stared at the empty vial in her hand, and realised it was shaking, her whole body was. As though her bones had been replaced with solid ice, she shivered, even when wrapped under the thick feather duvet Harriet couldn’t stop shaking.

There had been so much blood. She’d never seen so much blood before. Was there that much blood when her parent died? No, magic didn’t make you bleed, did it? She didn’t remember.

Harriet grazed her fingers over the dark bruises that coloured neck and shoulder, where his knee had been, when he used his hands to- when he tried to-

She hadn’t realised that she’d been crying, but suddenly her entire body shook with the violence of the sobs that wracked through her. How did this happen? She’d been at the park, she’d been thinking of dinner, not two hours later and here she was, Dudley in hospital, a boy nearly dead and her in Diagon Alley. She wasn’t even sure what happened, or what would have happened if the dog hadn’t come.

It saved her. She realised, whatever the boys were going to do to her, the dog had saved her form it.

By nearly killing one.

Dumbledore had told her she hadn’t summoned it, that it wasn’t her doing. ‘A terrible accident.’ The old man had told her.

Little monster. Aunt Petunia had called her.

She’d wanted them dead.

In that moment, trapped below them, fighting, and clawing and biting, she’d wanted all three to die. And one almost did. If adults hadn’t found them, would the dog have finished them off?

A part of her wished it would, that it would make its way to Privet Drive and wait in the house for the Dursley to come back, and it would eat them all.

Harriet couldn’t stop the tears if she tried, so instead she let them spill from her with frightened little sobs until there was nothing left.

That night Harriet dreamt of three little pigs, one with red lipstick, one with a moustache and one missing an arm. They sat in the stone house and laughed at a wolf outside, he wouldn’t be able to blow down their house, it was made of bricks and mortar. But the wolf didn’t huff and puff, instead it chewed its way through the wooden front door and gobbled each little pig up until there was nothing left.

A week later Harriet sat on her bed, picking at the breakfast one of the innkeepers children had brought her, after she hadn’t come down to join them. When she heard the familiar sound of bickering echoing up the stairs. She opened her door to the sound of a cat hissing as it chased a poor rat down the hall, Harriet felt herself smile for the first time since the beginning of summer as she chased after them both. She scooped up the violent little ball of ginger fluff before he could devour the rodent, much to Crookshank’s unbridled rage.

“Oh hush silly cat,” Harriet cooed lovingly, “Don’t eat poor Scabbers.”

“Hari!” A familiar voice called down the hall, Harriet turned to see Hermione running down the hall, followed by an enraged Ron and a giggling Ginny.

“Hari you saved Scabbers!” Ron cried in delight, “Now hand me that cat so I can skin it and make a hat.” He added sinisterly, much to Hermione’s horror.

“No don’t!” The taller girl cried, taking the accused from Harriet, cradling Crookshanks against her chest as if he were a baby. “He didn’t mean it, he’s a carnivore Ronald. It’s his instinct to chase, you should keep your rat in a cage, he’s unsafe running around like that.” Hermione turned and scalded the pale redhaired boy. The two continued to argue over proper pet care, as Ginny walked around to greet her friend.

“Hey Hari, nice to see you!” She said cheerily, “Don’t mind these two, they were like this the whole way here. I think they missed each other.”

Hari snorted a laugh.

“I think you’re right. How was Egypt?”

Together the four of them headed downstairs, with Ginny and Hari chatting about pyramids whilst Hermione and Ron bickered. The main inn was a far cry from the quiet pub Hari had gotten used to, it was amazing how the addition of one family was enough to make the place seem full to busting. Hari felt her smile grow wider, she hated quiet, the Dursley’s always told her that loud families were ill bred, they’d meant it as an insult, Hari had grown to see it as the highest of compliments.

“Harriet dear!” Molly Weasley cheered as she spotted the small girl stood with her daughter. Hari was quickly smothered into a warm embrace, she loved Mrs Weasley’s hugs, she always smelt like the Burrow, like home.

“I missed you.” Hari said, she hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so sad.

“Oh sweetheart,” Mrs Weasley pulled back, she smiled kindly “We missed you too, we tried to get back to you sooner but there was an issue with the portkey and- oh I won’t bore you.” She waved a hand to dismiss the subject, “Dumbledore told me all that happened, I’m so sorry you had to see that, and your poor cousin! Is he alright?” Hari’s smile died on her lips.

“He’s fine, just a broken arm.” Her voice was tight.

“And that poor muggle boy!” She added. Hari’s body felt stiff, Mrs Weasley’s embrace now feeling like it was choking her.

Was that how Hari was supposed to react? To feel sorry for the boy that hurt her, the boy who tried to do more than hurt her, and Dudley who had helped?

Little monster.

“You know you can talk to me whenever you need it, Hari. Your hair may be black but your just as much one of mine, understand?” Mrs Weasley tried to meet Hari’s eyes as she spoke, Hari attempted a smile back, but her eyes had glazed over. “But let’s focus on getting your new books for now, yes?”

Hari nodded, ignoring the taste of bile in her throat.

That night Hari sat in her bed looking through her new books for the year, just as she contemplated the new tomb that seemed to come with teeth, there was quiet knock on her door. Then a dark fluffy head poked through a crack in the doorway.

“Can I come in?” Hermione asked shyly.

“’Course ‘Mione.” Hari made space on the bed for her friend to come sit, Hermione wore matching pyjamas covered in strawberries as she tiptoed across the creaking boards and got into bed next to Hari. “What can I do you for?”

“I wanted to check that you’re okay.” She asked, her voice full of sympathy, Hari couldn’t see her face in the dark, but she was sure it was doing that sad little concerned eyebrow thing.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit freaked out about the whole Sirius Black stuff I guess.” She answered, Arthur Weasley had told her about the man escaping earlier that day, he told her to keep it a secret, but of course she immediately told Ron, Hermione and Ginny. She was sure he wouldn’t mind.

“I wasn’t asking about that, I meant watching a boy get mauled by a dog.” Hermione said in her usual direct way.

“Oh.”

“And the bruises around your neck.”

Hari’s hand immediately went to her throat, she’d worn a scarf all day to hide it, but she should have known Hermione would be observant enough to notice.

“Dudley and his friends were picking on you again, weren’t they?”

Hari could do nothing but nod.

“And then the dog attacked them.”

Another nod.

“Oh Hari.” Hermione wrapped an arm around her smaller friend, her hand petting Hari’s dark hair, they sat there for a few moments before Hari spoke again.

“It was different this time.” Her voice was so quiet, Hermione nearly didn’t hear her. “There was a different boy with him, he scared me. He scared me so much ‘Mione, they pinned me down and they tried- they tried to-“ But Hari’s words were chocked off by a sob. Hermione gasped and held her friend tighter. “Then the dog came, before he could- the dog saved me from them. And when he- when Aunt Petunia told me the boy nearly dead, I was glad ‘Mione. I only wish he had died.”

“It wasn’t your fault Hari.” Hermione stopped her, “None of it was your fault. You feel however you want about it.”

Hari cried into her friend shoulder, the tightness around her chest wasn’t gone, but it felt like Hermione had loosened it, at least a little.

“Does anyone know?” Hermione asked after a long time.

“Dumbledore does, he had to do something to Dudley to make him forget, so he saw everything he did.” Hari answered.

“But why would he do that? It wasn’t magic was it? Just some awful boys and a dog?” Hermione asked, Hari hadn’t thought about that, Dumbledore had promised her it was just a normal non magical dog.

“I guess he’ll make all the Dursley’s forget it, so they let me back next summer. Aunt Petunia was furious.” Hari said after a while.

Hermione shook her head in horror.

“What Hari, no! You can’t go back there, not after that.” Hermione scolded.

“It was just the one boy who tried to, you know. And he’s – he won’t try again.” Hari reasoned.

“Dudley was there to, and your Aunt blamed you for what they did! Even if they don’t remember it all, you can’t go back to them, not after this.” Hermione held her friend tight again. “We won’t let them send you back there.”

And for that night cuddled next to her best friend, Hari believed her.

Chapter 2: With a Little Help From my Friends

Chapter Text

That September morning, the Welsh countryside hung in that awful warm humid state in between summer and autumn. Remus chafed in the wool suit he’d bought, it was cheap and it itched, but it was all he could afford, given he’d had to buy an entire wardrobe’s worth of them on short notice.

Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.

Remus had hoped never to hear that name again, until he received the inevitable letter from Dumbledore when he eventually perished in his cell.

But that wasn’t the letter he received, instead he had the f*cking nerve to escape.

Remus had hoped that Sirius would at least have the grace to sit and rot until he died, but now he was out, and Dumbledore believed he was coming for Harriet. It seemed like such a ridiculous notion, but he’d thought the same at the idea that Sirius would ever hurt James Potter.

Shows what he knows.

Remus finished setting his wards and locking down the house for the year, he had no reason to come back over the holidays, not since mum had died. Hope Wilczopolski had passed away two years prior, her cancer finally taking her. Remus hadn’t thought he’d had any mourning left in him, but his mother had once again proven him wrong.

The funeral had been small and quiet, with only his mother’s family in attendance. His ancient grandmother, who had now outlived two husbands and her only daughter, sat with a man who must have been Remus’s uncle. He’d only had the briefest of relationships with his muggle family; keeping secrets that could kill them made for strenuous relationships. He’d only survived the event thanks to Mary McDonald. When his grandmother had cornered him, asking ‘Why don’t we see more of you Remek?’ and coerced the pair into dinner in which he was fed dishes with more onion in them than he had eaten in the last decade. Mary saved him from the questions of what he was doing for work, and why wasn’t he married yet.

It was so strange how things changed; Remus had loathed Mary in school, mad with jealously of her relationship with Sirius – a foolish thing. And now, with the war done and their friends all dead, Remus had clasped onto her as tight as he could, they clung to each other through their shared grief. He knew now that if things had been different, they would have been as close as he had been with any of the others.

“You ready, Professor Lupin?” Mary teased, leaning on his kitchen table with her hip. Remus huffed a sigh, then tapped his wand on his trunk – it began flying itself out of the front door rather clumsily. He frowned as it bumped into furniture on its way out.

“I thought it’d be easy to pick up a wand again, turns out magic is not like riding a bike.” Remus sighed tracing the grooves of his wand, it had been nearly a decade since he’d used it, he hoped defensive magic would come back more naturally than charms had.

“You’ll be fine, just need to grease up the ol’ magic gears.” Mary assured with a kind smile, Remus rolled his eyes.

“Easy for you to say.” He gestured to the wand she had tucked under her arm.

“What, this old thing?” She swung the thing around casually, then scoffed. “I only use it to come see you, why would I pay for fuel when I can teleport?”

They’d both more or less abandoned the magical world after the war, much like the magical world had abandoned them, with him a werewolf and she muggleborn. Mary now lived in London with her muggle husband and two boys, Remus had never been to her flat, never met her husband or kids. She invited him to spend Christmas with her and her family every year, they both knew he’d never say yes, but she would always ask anyway.

They loved each other, they cared for each other, she was all he had left, but Remus would never let himself be close to her like he was to the others. He’d never let himself be close to anyone like them. Not after everything.

Remus had known happiness beyond anything he’d come to expect growing up a werewolf. He’d fallen in love, he’d found family with his best friends, Remus had been loved and cherished and had done so in return.

Then in one fell swoop he lost it all.

The war may have been over, but Remus was still a threat, even beyond his curse.

Because Remus had loved the man that had taken it from him all. He had trusted Sirius Black, he had laid next to him during the war, held him in his arms, made love to him. Then Sirius had killed them all, and Remus had let him. He hadn’t seen the signs, even looking back he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the moment that he’d lost him. Maybe that was because he’d never had him to begin with.

And now Remus was going to Hogwarts, he would be teaching Harriet Potter, the one who lost so much because of the man Remus loved.

Had loved.

He didn’t know how he would face Lily’s daughter, knowing that because of him, she’d never know how fierce and kind her mother was. How could he stand in the presence of James’s child, when Remus was part of the reason, he wasn’t there to teach her quidditch, to hand her his cloak with a laugh and a wink – making her swear that she was up to no good.

Remus’s chest would always ache with the grief and the guilt, that was his penance for missing the man who betrayed them all.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the moons whilst at Hogwarts, a caveat of his employment at the school was the mandatory use of wolfsbane potions, Remus would never have been able to afford them himself.

It was unfortunate that he’d have to obtain the potions from Hogwarts’s resident potion master.

Regulus Black.

As if one death eater Black wasn’t enough to have to deal with again, Sirius’s younger brother would be his colleague.

Dumbledore had assured him that Regulus was a changed man, that his efforts were ‘essential to the downfall of Voldemort’.

Remus would never believe that; he had known Regulus, had watched him grow into a hateful and arrogant man, he remembered the day Sirius had found out about Regulus taking the mark. How Sirius had wept in Remus’s arms, mourning the brother he’d once loved, now lost to him forever.

Remus refused to believe that Sirius was a deatheater and that Regulus was somehow redeemed.

Perhaps it was just a Black family quirk to be a traitor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mary asked, “You don’t have to, you don’t owe Dumbledore anything, not after everything.” This wasn’t the first time she’d asked him.

“He’s out Mary, I have to finish this.” Remus said with a heavy sigh, avoiding her gaze.

“Do you?”

“Mary…”

“I’m just – I don’t want you to feel like you need to punish yourself all the time, Remus. This isn’t your responsibility.” She pushed herself off the table and reached a hand out, not touching him, just letting it hang in the air between them.

“I’m not agreeing to any obligation other than teaching defence. Nothing more.” Remus assured her, finally looking back up at her, brown eyes searching his face for a long moment.

“Okay.” She said, then smiled softly. “You’re going to meet her.”

Remus nodded tightly, his throat clenching. They didn’t talk of the magical world often, but when they did it was often about Hari. Mary had always mourned the relationship she never got to have with her goddaughter, she and Sirius had argued playfully about who would be the favourite godparent, and now for better or worse Harriet knew neither of them.

“Could you… would you be able to find out who she’s been staying with?” Mary asked, unusually hesitant. Remus opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. “I know Dumbledore wanted it secret, that it was safest for her, but- I just want to know that she’s been as loved as Lily would have wanted. I’ll sleep better for it.”

Remus could do nothing but nod.

“I’ll call you from the phone box, it’ll probably have to wait until a Hogsmeade weekend though.” He assured her, she walked him outside past his wards, then they hugged tightly.

“Stay safe.” She said against his shoulder, he placed a kiss on her forehead instead of replying.

Remus refused to remember the last time he sat on the Hogwarts express, choosing a compartment as far away from the one he and his friends had haunted over the years. Exhausted from the full moon the night before, he curled his cloak around him and let his head rest against the cool damp of the window and tried to allow himself some sleep.

“It’s the last one with enough room.” He heard a girls voice from the door, as a small group of students entered his compartment.

“D’you reckon he’s a new professor?” Another voice asked, a boy.

Remus willed himself to fall asleep faster, letting the rumbling of the train along the tracks to lull him into unconsciousness.

“How do you think this one will try to kill us?” A third voice, another girl.

“Hari, that’s not funny.” The first girl scolded her friend.

Remus, I’d like you to meet Harriet. Though we’ll probably just call her Hari.

No.

Oh no please let that be a coincidence.

The three continued to chatter, musing over what the new year would bring, complaining about summer homework. Remus had fallen into a doze again when they said his name.

“Why would Sirius Black be after you?” The boy asked.

Remus had to make a conscious effort not to flinch at the name.

“Do you think he’s asleep?” The girl who he was now certain was Harriet Potter, or Hari as she preferred, whispered.

Remus then listened to Hari retell the worst night of Remus’s life, a vague bastardised version, that didn’t mention that Sirius was her godfather. He supposed that was Dumbledore’s way of protecting her.

“Hari, you’re not going to go after him, are you?” The other girl, Hermione, he’d learnt, asked. She was clearly concerned that this is something Hari would genuinely attempt. And oh how she reminded Remus of himself, when he was young and spent so much of his time worrying, he remembered how that worry had tasted on his tongue, as he begged James not to do anything stupid.

“’Mione, why would I go after a man that wants to kill me?” Hari had replied, full of snark. Lily’s snark.

Remus could have wept.

Then the train lurched to a stop, and Remus felt his bones go cold.

Dementors. They weren’t supposed to be on the train, they weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the students.

Remus cast and the creature was vanished.

He’d never been glad to have his patronous become non-corporal, until that moment when he had to cast it in front of his students.

It had been the wolf once, and Sirius’s had matched.

Remus hadn’t been able to summon it fully since.

Once the dementor was gone, he saw to Hari, she’d collapsed under its ire. She recovered slowly, green eyes cautious and curious as she took the mars bar from his hand. He fought the urge to introduce himself, leaving quickly to clear the train, hoping that walking would shake away the chill, as well as thoughts of how much she’d looked like them.

“Regulus, thank you for meeting with me. Please, take a seat.” Dumbledore motioned to the armchair Regulus usually occupied during their meetings, a usual occurrence since Harriet Potter had begun her Hogwarts career.

“Of course, Albus.” Regulus nodded, lowering himself into the chair. His expression cool and words steady, as though this were any other day, feigning ignorance to the newspaper that sat purposefully on the headmaster’s desk. Desperate eyes on a face so much like his own, manic and searching.

“I’ve no doubt you understand why I have asked you to meet with me, we’ve much to discuss with the beginning of this term.” Dumbledore said gravely, steepling his fingers, as though deep in thought. “Sirius Black has escaped, and I have no doubt that his first goal will be to find Harriet.”

“To serve what end?” Regulus asked carefully.

“To finish his master’s work.” He replied, his face a grim mask.

Regulus nodded his acknowledgment of the old man’s words but did not speak.

“Dementors are searching for him and will be permitted to search the grounds if given reason to. Keeping him away from Harriet is our utmost priority. I trust I have your support in this.”

At that Regulus felt his mask crack, his eyebrows drawn into a knot.

“Have I given you reason to doubt me, Albus?” Regulus asked, searching the headmasters gaze.

“He is your brother, Regulus. It would be understandable for you to be… conflicted in this.” Dumbledore explained, his face a perfect picture of sympathy.

“I assure you; I am not.” The younger man declared fully. “My priorities remain as they always have; protecting Potter.”

Regulus held the older mans gaze, unflinching, he felt the slight invasion of legilimency. It was only gently; if he weren’t so used to attempts to invade his mind, he might not have even noticed. But Regulus was raised with Walburga Black as his mother, he had learnt to hide his mind from intruders long ago.

After a long pause, Dumbledore withdrew.

“Yes, of course. I am sorry to have questioned it.” He even looked like he meant it. “There is another matter, the subject of our new defence against the dark arts professor, Remus Lupin.”

This did break Regulus’s composure, for just a moment. Lupin. The lanky boy covered in scars, the one Sirius had always trailed behind like a lost puppy. Regulus had always had two starkly contrasting images of the man his brother had loved, one, a nervous boy dressed in old ill-fitting jumpers, always in the library, the one that had Sirius always mooned over. Then the second image, a man with scars silver and ragged across his face, who had left Snape and Mulcibar bloody and bruised one day for daring to cross Lily Evans, the man he knew to be a werewolf.

“You want to bring him here?” Regulus asked after a long pause, Dumbledore simply nodded. “Sir, do you wish to lure Sirius out?” He realised that was the first time he’d said his brother’s name out loud in twelve years.

“Do you believe Mr Lupin would have this effect?”

Once, when Regulus was in third year, and his brother and Remus in their fourth, Sirius had come home – unwillingly – for Easter. As was normal by then, the two brothers had fought viciously over the holidays, constantly provoking each other, much to their mother’s delight – she had always believed that a ‘healthy animosity’ between siblings encouraged success. Sirius would call Regulus a coward, a mummy’s boy, weak and cruel, Regulus would return by proving his brother entirely correct by reporting everything he knew about his brother’s time at Hogwarts to his mother. Usually at the dinner table, so he could watch his brother’s face turn red in anger when he told mother.

That Easter, Regulus had made the mistake of talking about Lupin.

He’d told Walburga all about Potter, and the rat, and this never seemed to bother Sirius, in fact he seemed to be glad whenever her brought up James Potter, his best friend and Regulus’s replacement. But Remus, Regulus had always avoided mentioning the third boy, perhaps he had realised the soft spot his brother had held for him without being fully aware. That day however, Sirius had pushed Regulus too far, he couldn’t remember what had started it, but at some point Sirius had told mother about the bottle of fire whiskey hidden in Regulus’s room, and in response he mentioned the half-blood boy. That was all, he simply informed mother of Remus Lupin as Sirius’s friend and dorm mate.

Sirius had snapped then, it seemed the idea of Walburga even knowing of Remus’s existence horrified his brother, it had been the last Easter Regulus had spent with his brother. He still had a scar on his scalp from where the wine glass had hit him.

“He was always very protective of him.” Was all Regulus said, Albus nodded thoughtfully.

“Given his true intentions, it is likely that his feelings for Mr Lupin were an act.” He suggested, and Regulus could have laughed.

If there was one word that encompassed Regulus, that could summarise his sad little life; it was doubt.

Regulus had questioned many things in his life, he had questioned his parents when they told him the Dark Lord would reward them for his loyalty, he had questioned Sirius when he’d told him to run away with him, he had questioned himself, who he was, what he was capable of. Regulus questioned his decision to remain as Hogwarts’s potion master, and therefor loyal to Albus Dumbledore, with increasing frequency.

But Regulus Black had never doubted his brother’s love for Remus Lupin, not when he bore the scar proving it.

“We will simply have to remain vigilant.” Regulus eventually said.

Remus Lupin was the new DADA professor, Hari figured he was pretty well equipped for the job, considering he’d gone from asleep to fighting off sad shadow ghost things within a blink. Plus, he seemed to always carry chocolate, and Hari liked chocolate.

After the welcome dinner and the sorting ceremony, like a wave the students made their way through the bright halls back to their respective dorms. Hari chatted with Fred and George about their summer as they made their way from the great hall, laughing at the twins as they told her about their prank on their older brother Percy – who they had apparently managed to convince into believing he’d discovered an ancient magical relic that could bring the user success and untold riches.

“We had planned on telling him-“ George began

“-But then he got a letter from the Ministry-“ Fred continued

“-And now he’s a personal assistant to the Minister.” George finished.

“Well clearly the relic is authentic.” Hari reasoned with a giggle.

“Not likely.” They said together.

“We bought it from a gift shop.” Fred explained, “We planned on transfiguring it into a frog or something when he showed mum.”

“But the cheeky bugger never did! Keeping all that success to himself.”

“Selfish.” All three of them said together, which made them laugh together, it was in that moment when Hari felt a shove against her shoulder.

“Watch it, Potter.” Dulcinea Malfoy hissed, making Hari jump.

“Shove off, Malfoy.” Hari answered, making Malfoy stop and turn on her. The tall girl let her ice glare search her for a moment, looking for something to mock, her eyes locked onto Hari’s neck and Malfoy smirked.

“Nice love bites there, Potter. Which one of your boyfriend’s gave you those?” She sneered with a flick of her long blond curtain of hair, “Or was it both? Suppose it makes no difference, one Weasel’s as useless as the next.”

Hari felt her cheeks get hot.

“No didn’t you hear, Dulcinea?” Pansy Parkinson chipped in. “Potty went crazy over the summer; she tried to kill a muggle boy for trying to kiss her.”

“That’s- that’s not what happened!” Hari shouted back, willing the hot tears she felt building not to come out, not in front of them.

“Wait, what?” Malfoy asked, uncharacteristically caught off guard by the announcement.

But before Pansy could answer with another cruel comment, the twins stepped in.

“Excuse us.” They said as they both draped an arm each over Hari’s shoulder.

“As lovely as it is seeing you two vicious little psychopaths.” George said

“We really need to escort our girlfriend safely to her dorm.” Fred added

“Try not to fall and break your necks on the stairs, will you?” George said with a sickly-sweet smile as the twins turned Hari away from the girls, keeping their arms like a shield over Hari’s shoulders.

“Thanks.” Hari mumbled, her cheeks still hot, she worked to unclench her fists as they walked.

“Don’t worry about it.” They said.

“We’re always happy to help.” George said, “Though we won’t be your boyfriends.” He added unnecessarily.

“’Cause that would be weird.” Fred explained, “I know there are rumours about the Weasley’s, but unlike other pureblood families, incest really isn’t our thing.”

“Yeah, dating our little sister?” George started, “Weird.” They both finished. And Hari couldn’t help but laugh, and just like with Hermione the other night, the tightness came undone another small notch.

They made their way back to Gryffindor tower, the first time stepping into the common room for the year always solidified it for Hari. Even now, in her third year, there was that small worm of doubt in the back of her mind, that at some point the rug would be pulled out from beneath her and she’d be forced to leave. They’d finally figure out that Hari wasn’t supposed to be there, that she wasn’t meant to be at Hogwarts at all, that she tricked them all and she’d be sent back to Privet Drive.

But as soon as she was past that portrait and enveloped in the red and gold of her house, her shoulders relaxed, and she knew she was home. Whilst Fred and George, who were enthusiastically debating whether to drop a dung bomb or an invisible Cricklesnack – whatever the hell that was – into Pansy Parkinsons bag, Hari spotted Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Luna and the Patil twins crowded around a table.

“Hey guys, I was wondering where you all run off to.” Hari called curiously to the suspicious crowd, six heads simultaneously turned to look at her.

“You two were supposed to keep her distracted!” Ginny scolded her older brothers, throwing her arms up in the air with frustration, the two boys looked at each other and shrugged.

“Like she doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s pretty obvious.” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Wait what?” Hari paused, looking between the two Weasley’s.

“Or not.” George said with a laugh. “It’s your birthday numpty.”

Oh.

“Happy Birthday Hari!” Neville Longbottom called from behind her. “Sorry guys, I got stuck behind, did I miss the surprise?” The tall boy worried as he stumbled through the common room door.

“No you’re just in time Neville, Happy Birthday Hari!” Hermione chimed as she stepped away from the table to reveal a small cake sat on the table, alongside two gifts, one wrapped rather haphazardly, and another squishy looking bundle wrapped up in the signature Molly Weasley paper; red with golden little ‘W’s swirled around it. The others joined in on a rather hap hazard chorus of happy birthday, Hari was blushing again, but for much happier reasons this time.

“Open your presents!” Ginny called excitedly as Hari was corralled by her friends to the table. Shyly, she took the one Luna held out for her, the one covered in news paper and was definitely wrapped by Ron.

“It’s from all of us.” Hermione said with a disapproving tone, yup definitely Ron.

Hari tore into her parcel to find a glass ball that looked remarkably similar to Neville’s Remeberball, but instead of a cloudy swirl in the centre, when Hari held it to the light the crystal showed the memory of team Gryffindor winning the house cup in first year. Hari was sat up on Oliver Woods shoulders as she showed off the trophy proudly, the same trophy that still sat on Professor McGonagall’s office mantel over a year later.

“It’s charmed to hold good memories, you can add more and it will play them pack.” Padma Patil offered. “Hermione and I worked on it all summer.” Hari was at a loss for words, it took her a moment to blink away the sting in her eyes, she cleared her throat.

“T-thank you guys, that’s, that’s really kind of you.”

“But it was my memory they put in!” Ron argued.

“And it was my idea!” Ginny added, Luna coughed lightly. “Our idea.” Ginny amended.

“I suggested the Remeberball!” Neville added with a blush.

“Like I said-“ Hermione interrupted the inevitable oncoming bickering. “It’s from all of us.” She said with a warm smile at Hari, Hari beamed in return.

“C’mon open the next one!” Ron pushed, for which Hari was grateful. “Though this one wont be much of a surprise.”

Hari crawled into her bed a few hours later, a belly full of cake and snuggled in her new Weasley jumper. It was bigger than the one she’d been wearing all summer - even during the sickly damp heat she never took it off, it was the one bit of clothing that was just for her – clearly Mrs Weasley had expected Hari to have growth spurt over the summer break, it wasn’t the case but she was glad to have a second anyway.

Her eyes glanced over the charmed Rememberball sat on her bedside table, she it cupped gently in her hand, terrified of breaking it, and she whispered the memory of that evening into the cool glass – just as Hermione had shown her. When she placed it back the memory of her friends bickering and laughing was playing on repeat, Hari smiled and buried herself into her pillows.

She didn’t have nightmares that night.

Chapter 3: Make up your mind

Chapter Text

“We should really talk to Professor McGonagall about it.” Hermione said for what felt like the hundredth time since Hari’s confrontation with Malfoy the day before. They were sat in the library that evening, it was only the first half of the first week of the new term and it felt like they had a mountain of work to do already. Hermione’s pile of homework was looking particularly impressive.

“What’s there to say?” Ron shrugged, he had an elastic band pulled tight between two fingers as he leant back on his chair. “Malfoy’s a bitch, always has been, nothing new there.” He dismissed. “Say what did you call these things ‘Mione? They’re brill.” He said as he sent another one flying.

“It’s elastic.” Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes, she then slammed a hand into the side of Ron’s chair that hung in the hair, forcing him to sit properly. “Don’t do that, you’ll fall and hurt yourself.” She scolded him, then turned back to Hari. “Even if it’s not unusual for Malfoy to be…unkind.” Ron snorted. “Parkinson shouldn’t have known anything about what happened over the summer, we should talk to McGonagall, we don’t want them spreading rumours.”

Hari shrugged, noncommittal.

“They’ll do it anyway; it’ll only get worse if I tell on them.”

Hermione frowned disapproving, but let it go, for now at least; Hari knew it would come up again.

“Anyway, just how many subjects are you taking?” Hari probed, hoping to change the subject. “I thought we only got to choose two electives?”

“Oh!” Hermione looked slight bashful, “I spoke to Professor McGonagall, I’m taking all of them.”

“Wot!” Ron shouted, accidently letting another band loose, this one flying and hitting the back of an seventh year at another table. “Sorry.” He called, then turned back to Hermione, “’Mione you can’t take them all! They overlap!”

“People take extra and study independently every year.” She answered, dismissing their friends concern.

“’Mione not even you can do that much, there aren’t enough hours in the day.” Hari reasoned, it really was a lot of work, even for Hermione.

“I’ll manage.” Hermione said simply. Hari and Ron just stared at each other, both with faces of absolute horror at the idea. Hari wondered how they could all be friends sometimes, she and Ron had both picked the subjects they thought would be easiest, Divination could all be made up, and Magical Creatures would be taught by Hagrid, who they didn’t imagine would set much homework. Whereas Hermione seemed to be determined to make her life as difficult as possible.

“Well if you decide to skip our classes, we’ll cover for you, it would hurt Hagrid’s feelings though.” Hari offered, knowing full well that Hermione would never skip class, she’d split herself in two before disappointing a teacher. Hermione smiled in a way that told Hari she agreed with her thoughts.

“I’m surprised we still have Black as our potion’s professor.” Ron changed the subject, not abandoning the rubber bands to move on to unfolding all of Hermione’s paper clips. “Isn’t he related to the nutter who escaped Azkaban?”

“Just because they’re related doesn’t mean Professor Black is guilty of anything.” Hermione scolded, never fond of Ron’s blatant dislike for the potions master.

“You’re just saying that ‘cos you fancy him.” Ron scoffed, “Which really only proves he’s up to something funny, you had a thing for Lockhart too, and he was a knob as well.”

Hermione bristled.

“I don’t think Hermione had a crush on Quirrell.” Hari butts in before the two started arguing again. “So that theory doesn’t really hold water. ‘Sides, Black is pretty common surname, they might not even be related.”

“I don’t know about that, Hari.” Ron mused, “The Black’s are a pretty important pureblood family, old as dirt and rich too, mum says they’ve a history for being mad as a box of pixies.”

“Dare you to ask him about.” Hari offered, knowing full well what Ron’s response would be.

“And get detention for the rest of my Hogwarts career?” He scoffed, “I’d rather run laps around the school bloody starkers.” Hari snorted a laugh, earning their table another withering stare from Madam Pince.

Hari stared at the bruises on her neck in the mirror, prodding the now green and yellow splotches with her index and middle finger. Parvati had let Hari borrow some foundation, being the closest in colour out of the other Gryffindor girls, but even that didn’t seem to cover the marks staining her throat.

Still, she applied the cream to her skin in the hopes that it might make them a little less noticeable, maybe Malfoy and Parkinson would shut up then.

As though summoned by Hari’s thoughts the door to the girls bathroom opened and in the mirror she saw the blonde Slytherin, on her own for once. Their eyes met in the glass and Hari immediately looked away, focusing instead on trying to finish as quick as she could and get out.

Frustratingly, Malfoy seemed determined to be as annoying a presence as possible and stood at the sink next to her, pretending to inspect her perfect hair. Hari tried her best to ignore her. Be the bigger person. She heard Hermione’s reasonable voice at the back of her mind. Punch the bitch! Another voice argued, clearly belonging to Ginny. How does she get her hair to stay combed back like that all the time? Hari wasn’t sure if the last voice was Luna or her own.

But her rumination was interrupted by the sound of a metal tin being placed on porcelain, and then pushed along the counter to Hari.

Malfoy’s pale slender fingers were resting on the unmarked container.

“Apply once a day to scars, bruises or any other marks, its charmed to cover them.” She said after a moment of silence. Hari openly stared at the other girl. Annoyed, Malfoy pointed at her own neck and rolled her eyes. Hari continued to stare. “Are you dense Potter?” She scoffed finally. “It will cover your hideous bruises.”

“There you are! I was worried you’d been polyjuiced for a second there.” Hari was only really half joking.

“Har har.” Came Malfoy’s monotone reply. “Just take the damn salve and stop looking at me like a bloody troll.”

“Thanks?” Hari said, taking the salve hesitantly. She then grabbed a paper towel, wet it under the tap and wiped at the foundation on her neck, it wasn’t coming off. “sh*t.” She hissed as she rubbed at the already sore bruises.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, you really are useless.” Malfoy tutted, then dove into her purse and pulled out a fancy, silk looking napkin. She then batted away Hari’s apparently useless hand, and with surprisingly gentle touch, wiped the foundation away with ease. Hari’s cheeks got hot.

“Uh thanks.” She said quietly, Malfoy simply rolled her eyes again, then pulled away, the napkin must have been charmed because it came away unstained. Hari then opened the tin and scooped up some of the green paste within, then gently rubbed it into the bruises. They were gone nearly instantly. Hari poked the area tenderly; it still hurt.

“They’re not gone.” Malfoy reminded her, “Just hidden.”

“Huh.” Hari said, impressed. “Where did you get it? I’ll have to get some.”

“Nowhere, I made it myself, Mother taught me the recipe.” She said simply. Hari turned from inspecting her now clear neck in the mirror to the other girl.

“Your mother taught you a recipe for a salve to cover bruises?” Hari asked, Malfoy then turned a glare to her, and she regretted asking.

“I did you a favour, Potter, don’t make me regret it.” She warned, though the embarrassed flush in her cheeks dampened the threat somewhat. “Keep that tin, I can make more.” And that was it, Malfoy picked up her purse and was gone again in a moment.

Hari turned back to the mirror and inspected her reflection, making sure all the marks were covered before heading to her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the year.

Defense against the dark arts was different.

Good, for the most part, but different.

Professor Lupin stood behind his desk, smiling kindly as the rest of the class funnelled out the room, Hari stayed behind waiting for quiet.

When the door closed behind the last student, Lupin spoke.

“I apologies for standing between you and the bogart today, Harriet.” He said as he sat, he opened his draw and rummaged around for something. “Even as a boggart, dementors can still have a rather severe effect.” He admitted as he handed something to her, it was a chocolate bar. Hari took it.

“Thanks. Hari is fine by the way.” She said politely. Lupin smiled somewhat sadly, then nodded.

“Well, what can I help you with, Hari?” He asked.

“What was the charm you used, on the train, the one that made the dementor go away?” Hari asked quickly, anxious to get the words out. Lupin considered her for a long moment.

“I understand wanting to learn how to protect yourself from the dementors, but the spell used is rather complicated, most seventh years aren’t able to perform it.” Lupin answered, he words careful and slow, as though he considered each one carefully.

Hari had expected this rejection, was prepared for it.

“Please, sir. It- the dementors made me see- and hear – things I really didn’t want to. I’m good at defence, and I promise not to be a bother, I just want to try and do something. I don’t want to ever feel like that again.”

Lupin sighed, standing from his desk, he rubbed the rough stubble on his face, Hari noticed the tips of his fingers on the right hand were stained yellow with nicotine.

“I can’t make any promises, Hari.” He says eventually. “But we can try, I have some free time on Thursday evenings, come to my office then, and we can work on it.”

Hari couldn’t help the grin that bloomed across her face.

“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint.” She announced cheerfully, Lupin smiles sadly again, then dismisses her.

Don’t misunderstand. Hari loved flying.

She loved how the wind threw around her already wild hair, the rush she’d feel looking down and seeing the world so far below her. It was so freeing. Being on her broom was the best thing Hari had ever experienced.

Flying on a hippogriff, however, was f*cking terrifying.

Buckbeak had no intention of listening to Hari’s suggestions, he just squawked like a mad thing as it took her through the trees in tight careless turns and reckless – even for her – flips around the castle grounds.

When the hippogriff finally grew tired of its attempts to make Hari sick, it brought them both back to Hagrid’s class, digging its razor claws into the dirt as it pulled them to sudden stop.

“Well done ‘Ari!” The half giant called as he picked the girl up from her seat on the giant bird-horse-thing and set her back down on her wobbly legs. “Now who wansa a go?” He turned back to the class, all of whom had taken another few steps back when the saw the sickly colour of Hari’s face.

“I think Hari’s going to faint again, Professor.” Malfoy said the last word with heavy irony, her mocking tone was almost a relief to Hari, she was glad to see her classmate had recovered from her apparent psychosis in the bathroom a few days prior.

Hari scowled at the other girl.

“Why don’t you have a go, Malfoy?” She goaded, “You always say your so much better at flying than me.”

There was a wave of Oohs from their classmates at the challenge.

Malfoy paled slightly but straightened regardless.

“Fine.” She hissed, then began to stomp over to Hagrid and Buckbeak.

“Wait ‘old on now, Malfoy!” Hagrid tried warning the stubborn Slytherin as she advanced on the now backing up hippogriff. But it was too late, Buckbeak slashed at Malfoy, knocking the girl back onto the dirt, she let out a cry and held her arm close to her chest. As Hagrid quickly shooed the agitated hippogriff away.

“My arm!” Malfoy cried. “The stupid bird broke my arm!”

“On the plus side, Slytherin’s missing a seeker this year.” Ron said over a mouth full of sausage. Hari agreed half-heartedly.

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded. “Hagrid could lose his job thanks to her, never mind bloody quidditch.”

“That’s a swear.” Ron announced, turning to Hari for confirmation. “Hermione swore.”

“I don’t know why she’s acting like that.” Hari watched Malfoy as she sat at the Slytherin table, telling the story of the ‘attack’ to a group of attentive 1^st years. “It doesn’t seem like her to make a fuss out of an injury.” Hari thought of the salve still tucked safely under her pillow, Malfoy seemed to take great care in her appearance, surely she shouldn’t be so happy about the ugly sling cradling her arm to her chest.

Ron snorted. “She makes a fuss of everything.” He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I’m sure her father has something to do with it, he’s been trying to get Hagrid out of Hogwarts for ages.” Hermione said thoughtfully, glaring at the blond girl across the hall. “Though you really shouldn’t have told her to do it.”

Hari turned to her friend; her brow fully contorted in confusion.

“I didn’t tell her to do anything!” She defended loudly.

“’Why don’t you have a go, Malfoy?’,” Hermione gave a poor impression of Hari’s accent. “You knew she’d do it; she always has tried to impress you.” Hari looked at Ron with horror at the suggestion, he shrugged as if to agree with their friend.

“That’s ridiculous.” Hari argued. “If she wanted to impress me she wouldn’t be such an arse to me all the time.” Scoffing at the outlandish idea that the perfect Princess Malfoy would ever try to impress her.

“She did try and be your friend in first year, didn’t she?” Ron posited.

“Yes, and she joined the quidditch team as soon as you did.” Hermione added.

“And did you hear she kept trying to talk the snake portraits in the Slytherin common room?” Ron remembered with a laugh.

“That can’t be true.” Hari argued.

“If it isn’t, I wanna shake the hand of the Slytherin that made it up, bloody hilarious.” Ron chuckled. Hari couldn’t help but smile at the image of Malfoy hissing at paintings, but we was sure that was more to do with being the Heir of Slytherin, then anything to do with Hari.

It couldn’t be true.

Hari supposed Malfoy had tried briefly to be her friend in first year, but the rest couldn’t have anything to do with her. Malfoy was by far the prettiest girl in their year, and she was smart, annoyingly so, she was the only one who got close to Hermione’s impressive grades. Malfoy was tall, and her hair always looked perfect and fell exactly where she wanted it to, she never got acne like Hari did. Malfoy had even started growing boobs, whilst Hari was certain she’d never get them.

Hari was the eldest in their year, her birthday being the first day of term, but she was easily the shortest. Her grades were terrible in everything apart from maybe DADA and muggle studies – though that really doesn’t count. Hari wasn’t particularly pretty, her hair was too thick and never did what it was supposed to, her eyebrows were too big and - to her horror - hair had started to grow on her upper lip. Aunt Petunia had tried to bleach it when the dark hairs first sprouted, only for Hari to then have a patch of pale skin standing out horrifically for the summer.

Hari was good at quidditch, Malfoy was too, but Hari was just a little faster, thanks to her small frame, she thought.

That was hardly reason enough for Malfoy to try and impress her of all people. No, she didn’t want to impress, she wanted to belittle and mock and make Hari feel small.

Hari hadn’t realised she’d been staring at the other girl until their eyes met, icy blue met emerald green for just a moment, then Malfoy sneered at Hari and turned away.

No, definitely not. All that homework had finally made Hermione mad.

Potions that day was the same as always, accept Malfoy now had Goyle stirring her potions for her.

“How is that fair.” Ron complained as he clumsily diced the jellied salamander. Hari looked to see Malfoy huffing and puffing at her desk mate, even from across the room Hari could hear the other girl complaining.

“It’s four turns clockwaise, not five.”

Hari smirked.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t say Goyle’s help is an advantage.” Hari joked, potions was certainly not the boys strong suit. Ron snorted a laugh but quickly choked on it when the sound drew their potion master’s ire.

“Something amusing, Mr Weasley?” Professor Regulus Black warned. Ron immediately ducked his head, and pretended to make notes. “Miss Potter?” Black quickly turned his glare to Hari.

“Nothing, sir. We’re simply happy to be here.” Hari said sweetly with her best innocent smile. Black sniffed.

“Well since you seem to have found a new love of potions, you can stay behind and today and take Miss Malfoy’s place as my assistant this evening. As she is clearly unable to at present.” The professor snapped before turning away from Hari and Ron’s shared desk.

“What sir no fair!” Hari protested at the professors back. “I have lessons with Professor Lupin this evening.”

“I will not be whined at, Miss Potter.” Black warned. “Professor Lupin will be informed.”

Hari grumbled under her breath, without thinking she looked over to where Malfoy stood, expecting to see the girl laughing at her. Instead, Malfoy was looking at Black curiously, an expression Hari couldn’t decipher furrowing her brow.

Hari ran quickly from the great hall back down to the potion master’s classroom, knowing from experience that it never paid to be late to detention with Black. She entered the potion lab only slightly out of breath to find Black stood with two cauldron’s set ready.

“Good evening, Miss Potter.” He nodded, “Let’s begin.”

It turned out that the reason Malfoy was so good at potions, was because she’d been helping Black restock Madam Pomfrey’s stock of potions for the last three years. Hari tried not to be impressed, the potions she’d been helping with were far beyond any fourth or even fifth year level.

“Today we will be making a first aid potion, it’s used mostly for burns and minor breaks in the skin.” Black explained in is usual dead tone. “It’s a basic healing salve.”

Hari hid her frown by staring at the array of ingredients in front of them.

“These aren’t magical.” Hari noticed, the herbs and vials in front of them looked remarkably… muggle. There were even some flowers she recognised from her aunt’s garden.

“Yes.” Black acknowledged. “You will find that some potions are more science than magic.” Hari considered this for a moment, Hermione had told her this before, but Hari had been to the infirmary enough to know that the potions there were definitely on the magical side.

“Now. Let us begin.” Black announced with a flare of his arms, so his sleeves flew around unnecessarily. Hari stifled an eye roll. “You will need to make one hundred vials by the end of the week.”

Hari’s face dropped any humour at the revelation, it was already Wednesday, she thought in horror. Black only smirked when she mentioned this.

“Best get started then.”

Black showed her the first batch, then watched her for the second and third, after that he left her to fend for herself as he turned to brew some more bone-regrowth potions.

After two hours of brewing, Hari’s arms ached from stirring, and her shoulders burned from hunching over the desk. Thankfully Black dismissed her then, still a few hours before curfew, Hari was so grateful for freedom, she made no snarky comments as she fled the classroom.

And ran straight into Malfoy.

“Watch it, Potter.” Malfoy said, using her right hand to steady Hari before shoving her back away. Hari glared at the offending arm.

“That looks better.” She accused, her eyes narrowing. Malfoy blushed and cradled the arm to her chest again.

“Same can’t be said for your face.” She snapped back weakly. Hari rolled her eyes.

“Nice one, Malfoy,” She said sarcastically.

“f*ck off, Potter.” Malfoy said simply, aiming to shove past Hari.

“No.” Hari glared stubbornly, not moving from her spot. “Why are you faking?”

“What?” Malfoy sputtered, cheeks growing pinker. “Don’t be stupid, Scarhead.”

“You’re faking, but I don’t know why. You like playing quidditch, and now ‘cause of your arm you can’t.” Hari pointed at the useless sling, Malfoy took a step back. “You know enough about potions from being Blacks assistance to heal the damn thing yourself, even if Pomfrey hadn’t already fixed it. Which she did.”

Malfoy’s mouth opened to defend herself, but before she could Hari continued.

“I don’t get you, Malfoy.” Hari shook her head. “You gave me a salve to cover bruises, so you obviously don’t like people seeing you all banged up.”

At that Malfoy’s blush reached all the way up to her hairline, turning her near perfect porcelain skin a blotchy red.

“But here you are, faking that your arm is broken just to get Hagrid in trouble!” Hari felt her voice getting shaky with anger as she continued her rant. “Why do you hate him so much?” Why do you hate me so much? She nearly added, but managed to hold herself in, just that little bit.

There was a long silence, Hari breathed hard, waiting for the inevitable. ‘Shut up, Potty.’ But it never came, instead there was a whisper, one so quiet Hari was sure she must have misheard.

“I don’t hate him.”

“Then why?” Hari asked exasperated.

Malfoy squirmed uncomfortably under Hari’s glare.

“Father-“ She started before she seemed to remember herself, she shook her head. “I don’t need to explain myself to the likes of you.” Malfoy hissed, the sneer returning to her face, before she turned and strutted off back down to the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t until Hari was halfway back to her own dorm, when she realised that was definitely the way Malfoy had just come from.

Chapter 4: Lonesome Town

Chapter Text

Remus had made a point to try and avoid Regulus Black, and he had managed to do so quiet well, as childish as it was. However, this meant that the first time Remus was forced to be alone in the same room as the younger Black brother, was the afternoon before his first full moon at Hogwarts. This may have been an oversite on Remus’s part.

He knocked on the potion master office, forcing himself not to pace anxiously as he waited for Regulus’s droll ‘enter’.

Remus rolled his eyes and did as he was bid, he found the younger man sat at his desk, making a show of not looking up to watch him enter the room, instead focusing on whatever essay’s he was marking.

“Professor Lupin.” He greeted coolly.

“Hi Reggie.” He replied, just because Remus wanted to be a sh*t. It had the desired effect, Regulus’s grasp tightened on his quill. He’d always hated the nickname, far too casual and plebian for the heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

“Your wolfsbane.” Regulus snapped back, gesturing to the vial filled with an iridescent purple liquid. Remus picked up the glass with his index and thumb, it was smaller than he expected. The other man remained in his seat, clearly expecting Remus to just take the potion and go, which was what he had planned before he had remembered how fun it was to tease Sirius’s little brother.

“Are you certain it will be effective?” Remus asked with mock sincerity, “I know it’s a rather complicated potion, have you made it before?”

“You’re welcome to go without, if you don’t wish to risk it.” Regulus quipped, finally dropping his quill and sitting up to look at him. Remus regretted meeting his gaze immediately, why did everyone at this bloody school have to have the same eyes as the people he’d loved? Remus played off his discomfort with a shrug.

“How have you been?” Remus asked, surprising them both.

“How have I been?” Regulus asked, incredulous. “Are you quite serious?”

Remus flinched, actually flinched at the question. How many times had he heard that same stupid joke by that insufferable man.

I’m serious.

No I’m-

“Guess not.” Remus huffed.

There is a long and painful silence, both of them desperately wanting Remus to just leave already, but for some reason his body wasn’t letting him.

“You realise why Dumbledore has requested you here, don’t you?” Regulus broke the silence eventually.

“Of course, I’m not naïve enough to believe I’m here for my skills in defence.” Remus replied bitterly.

“He thinks I’m helping him.” Regulus says after another long pause. Remus snaps a glare at him.

“Are you?” He asks.

“Are you?” Comes the reply.

“He killed them.” Remus answers. “He turned to your side.” He hisses. Regulus narrows his gaze.

“And what side is that?” He challenges.

“Dumbledore doesn’t trust you, if he thinks you would help him escape.” Remus responds.

“Dumbledore doesn’t trust anybody. He thinks me being his brother is enough for me to turn coat.” Regulus voice is bitter with resentment.

“Wasn’t it enough the first time?” Remus asked, earning himself another glare.

“I didn’t betray the Dark Lord for Sirius. I did it for myself.” He says, uncharacteristically blunt. “If Sirius truly wants to finish the Dark Lords work, then I will do what I must to stop him, the same as you.”

“If he wants to finish his work? You don’t believe that’s what he plans?”

“Do you?”

And Remus didn’t know the answer to that.

October brought the first day of quidditch practice and Hari was jumping with excitement through all their classes, practice was always before dinner, which meant her detentions with Black wouldn’t interfere.

“I hope you’re still making time to do homework, Hari.” Hermione said from her bed, surrounded by books and parchment.

“I think you better focus on your time management skills, Miss ‘A-Million-and-Two-Electives’.” Hari teased as she pulled on her quidditch boots.

“Don’t deflect.” Hermione warned though her smile was playful.

“I would never!” Hari faked shock. “Your hair looks pretty by the way.” She called behind her as she fled the room, she saw Hermione grab at her wild cloud of hair around her head in annoyance, as the door closed behind her.

Ginny met Hari in the common room with a big nervous smile on her face, and her new broom clutched tight in her hand. Hari met her with a grin of pure delight, she was so excited to have Ginny on the team with her this year, though it annoyed Ron to no end that his sister made the team before him. Hari tried to remind him that being reserve was still on the team, but that didn’t seem to help much.

Ginny and Hari elected to ignore Ron’s quiet sulking as they all headed to the pitch together.

Hari whooped loudly as she chased after the snitch, she was against Oliver that day, he was always the hardest to go against in practice. She was more than happy for the challenge to get her back into practice. She was the only one the team who lived at a muggle house over the summer, so she didn’t get as much chance to train as the others.

Ginny was fantastic as chaser, much to Ron’s chagrin, but his grumbling quickly turned to cheering when he watched his little sister score against their older brothers multiple times.

By the end of practice they were all laughing, sweaty and starving. Hari made her way to the girls changing rooms when she felt what seemed like pins stabbing into her neck, like she was being watched. She quickly turned her head in the direction the pain came from, her eyes darting over the edge of the forbidden forest that surrounded the school, it was then that she was a large black figure and bright yellow eyes looking directly at her.

Hari blinked and then the eyes were gone, she could have sworn she’d seen the swing of a tail, but quickly shook her head.

She needed new glasses.

Friday came and within the hour Hari had bottled her final salve, with a satisfied smile she placed the tray of glass vials on Blacks desk, unable to hold back her pride.

“Try not to look so smug.” Black sighed, barely looking up from his marking, he finished the line he was writing then leant back in his chair, hands clasped in front of him. “Now let’s see if you managed to retain anything, hm?”

Hari opened her mouth to respond to the gibe, but Black gestured for silence, her mouth closed with a snap.

“List the ingredients.”

Hari sighed then held her fingers to count them out.

“A dollop of aloe vera – though really its two teaspoons. Four heads of calendula, and three drops of oil – preferably coconut but olive will do. All added to spring water.”

Black nodded.

“And how is it used?”

“Applied topically, sir.” Hari answered confidently.

“Good, you may go.” He dismissed her with a flick of his wrist then returned to his marking. Hari stared at the professor for a moment. “Anything else, Miss Potter?” He asked, sounding very bored.

“Madam Pomfrey doesn’t use this potion.” Hari blurted without thinking.

“Really.” Black said, if Hari didn’t know better, she’d say there was humour in the man’s voice.

“I’ve been there enough to know.” Hari doubled down. To which Black smirked.

“Yes, I suppose you have.” Was all he said.

“So why-“ Hari began but Black quickly interrupted.

“I suggest that instead of questioning your professor,” He warned, “You be grateful for the lesson and leave before I assign you lines.”

Hari didn’t need to be told twice, with a huff she grabbed her things and tried her best to not storm from the classroom.

“The incantation for the charm is Expecto Potronum.” Professor Lupin explained, his wand held aloft, the DADA office looked different again this year, the main difference being that of the hundreds of books lining the shelves, non of them were written by or about Gilderoy Lockheart. “The latin translation is literally ‘I await a guardian’, which is exactly what a patronous is, a guardian. Once the charm is perfected, it can often take a shape of an animal – which is believed to represent the person casting.”

“What’s yours?” Hari asked curiously.

Lupin hesitated before answering.

“Mine is non-corporeal, it has no shape, it does however, function as I need it to.” His tone was a little clipped.

“Do you know anyone who has a corporeal patronous?” She pressed.

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both do, a phoenix and a cat, respectively.” He answered, he then a paused another moment and continued. “Your parent’s both had deer as theirs, I believe.”

Hari glanced up at that, and Lupin avoided her gaze.

“You knew my parents?” She nearly whispered.

“Yes, we were at Hogwarts together, we were- we were all very close.” A quiet nostalgia fell across his gaze.

“What were they like, in school I mean?” Hari pressed, she leant forward in her chair.

“Your father was an absolute nightmare, but in the best way possible.” He said with a laugh, “And your mother was the best person I ever knew. James had a way of making everyone he met either love him instantly, or declare him a nemesis. He was generous and impossibly kind, a bit oblivious at times, but he always meant well.”

“And mum?” Hari pressed, her throat felt tight.

“Lily Evans is-“ He stared in the distance, his eyes shiny. “Was incredibly kind, protective of her friends, dedicated entirely to those she cared for. I consider it my greatest honour to have been considered one of those lucky people.”

“You loved them.” Hari said plainly, Lupin nodded. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who loved them before.” She pondered, Lupin frowned. “I just, I know people cared about them, knew them but its always been professors or my aunt, and Aunt Petunia, she’s- She didn’t like mum or dad much.”

Hari finished with a shrug. It’s something that had bothered her for a while, she had spent her entire life listening to her aunt and uncle talk about how her mother was a freak, and her father was rotten and lazy. When she came to Hogwarts she learnt that wasn’t even close to true, she was told about how her parents sacrificed themselves to save her and stop Voldemort. That they were brave and strong, they were heroes.

But no one had ever told her anything real about them. Just that they were brave, that mum was a talented witch, that dad was brave and got a lot of detentions with McGonagall.

Lupin was the first person she’d met that could tell her something other than how much she looked like them.

“You know, you look just like them-”

She spoke too soon.

“Yes, just like my dad but my mother’s eyes.” Hari interrupted leaning back in her chair, Lupin surprised her by laughing.

“Not the first to think it I suppose, well, is there anything you’d like to know about them?" He offered, a genuine smile tinged with amusem*nt played at his mouth.

"I mean... Everything, I want to know everything."

Of course Professor Lupin didn't tell her everything, there wasn't enough time, and even if there was, she didn't think he would. As Lupin spoke, Hari would notice him stall or stutter, as if he thought better of whatever he was going to tell her. Hari noted it but said nothing, she was terrified to push for more than he gave, terrified that this brief insight into her parents would be snapped away form her again.

Hari’s stomach churned with nerves and excitement in equal measure, as she gripped her broom in hand, she glanced over the Hufflepuff team lined opposite her own. They weren’t the main competition for the year, with all of Slytherin having Nimbus 2000s – even with their seeker out of commission – they were the team to beat. That didn’t mean the first match of the season would be easy. The bitterly cold November air whipped around the two teams viciously, trying it’s best to knock the teenagers from their brooms.

Hari watched the snitch from the corner of her eye, trying to hide from the rival seeker that she knew where it was, Cedric Diggory circled above, still searching. She willed for her teammates to widen the gap in points, just ten more and she could catch it and end the match. She leaned forward in anticipation; her hands twisted around the frozen wood of her broom, then Cedric spotted it, and they both gave chase.

sh*t.

They both dove down after the golden flicker as it darted near the ground, zigzagging wildly as the two seekers chased hap hazardously through the storm. Cedric reached out his arm to grasp the snitch, Hari cursed at her short arms, she was slightly ahead of him, but his height gave him the advantage.

Just as she thought it would be over, the snitch darted straight up, grazing the boy’s pale fingers. Hari didn’t hesitate to lurch up, sure she’d left her stomach on the ground behind her, Cedric was close but still behind.

Hari urged up and up far above the pitch, she was sure the snitch was heading out of bounds now, but that couldn’t be possible.

Then there was the wild barking of a dog, and the world went cold and black.

Hari watched in horror as her teammates dropped what remained of her broom on her lap. The wood shattered and splintered – there was no recovering it, she let McGonagall vanish it

“At least we have Hogsmeade next weekend.” Ron tried to cheer Hari up, kicking his legs on the chair next to her hospital bed.

“Ron.” Hermione warned.

“What?” Ron asked then shrugged. “I’m sure Hari will be better by then.”

“Hari doesn’t have permission to go to Hogsmeade next weekend.” Hermione reminded him painfully. Ron’s mouth made a silent ‘o’.

“Sorry mate.” He flinched; Hari shrugged.

“Just bring me back some sweets, yeah?” She offered, trying for a smile.

“I just can’t believe the dementors were allowed so close to school grounds.” Hermione shook her head with disapproval. “Or why they exist in the first place, awful things.”

“Someone needs to keep all the bad guys in Azkaban.” Ron shrugged as if it were simple, Hermione immediately launched into the expected lecture on the unethical state of the prison system in wizarding Britain. Hari didn’t doubt that her friend was correct, regardless she let her head fall back into her pillow and ignored her friend’s bickering, until she heard a throat clear at the foot of her bed.

Cedric Diggory stood, in his uniform still, with a nervous but friendly smile.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He said politely, ignoring Hermione and Ron who had now quieted down. “I just wanted to check in, are you okay?”

Hari felt her cheeks get warm.

“Y-yeah.” She cringed at the croak in her throat and coughed. “Yeah, just a bit banged up.” She offered with an awkward thumbs up.

“Good, I’m glad.” He said, letting his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “I’m sorry about the match, I asked for a rematch – it doesn’t seem fair, you would have caught it if it hadn’t been for... you know.” He let his voice drift and shiver went up his spine. Hari gave an easy smile.

“Nah it’s alright, even if I caught it, we would have lost. You guys played well.” Hari offered with a casual shrug that shot a glimmer of pain through her back, she still ached all over from the fall.

“Well, I just wanted to check in.” Cedric said after a beat, “I heard what happened to you broom- I’m really sorry. I wanted to say you could borrow mine if you want.” He hesitated. “It’s no Nimbus 2000 but it’s better than the schools, they’re all at least a decade old.” He joked awkwardly, his cheeks getting red.

“Oh.” Hari paused. “That’s really kind of you, thanks Diggory.” She smiled, and he nodded.

“Anyway!” He clapped his hands suddenly. “I should – I should get going.” He gestured vaguely to the door. “See you later. Ron, Granger.” He nodded once each to the two silent and wide eyed third years before offering a small wave to Hari and leaving.

“What just happened?” Ron asked, his face looking as though he’d be confounded.

“Oh my God.” Hermione gasped, a knowing smile climbing her face as she met Hari’s eyes.

Hari’s cheeks grew impossibly warm.

“Shut up.” She said but without meaning, Hermione had to bite her slip to stop a full grin taking over.

“What?” Ron demanded, still in the dark. “Tell me!”

Hermione giggled then leant forward with an uncharacteristically menacing smile playing her lips.

“Don’t worry about it, Ronald.” Hermione said with a smirk, Hari just glared at her best friend, willing her silent whilst Ron pestered for answers.

Even though Hari knew she’d have to watch her friends leave for the village that weekend – without her. It didn’t make the swell of jealousy in her chest any less painful.

“Sorry Hari.” Hermione consoled; her voice barely audible past the layers of wool wrapping around her body entirely.

“Will bring you back some sweets, yeah?” Ron offered meekly, then they both waved goodbye and left her.

Ginny and Luna eventually convinced her to join the other second years to for a planned snowball battle by the lake, Hari ran upstairs to grab her hat and gloves, she was rummaging through her trunk when her fingers brushed the soft fabric of her cloak.

Now there was an idea.

She quickly apologised to Luna and Ginny as she ran past them in the common room. Ginny watched after her with suspicion but was quickly pulled along by Luna to their upcoming snow war. Hari snuck into an alcove and draped the in cloak of invisibility around her shoulders, lifting the hood over her head and disappeared completely.

Hari was nearly past the courtyard when she was swooped up under her elbows by the twins.

“Nice try, Hari.” George said with a smirk.

“But you forgot one key detail.” Fred continued, tapping his nose – then pointed to the snow on her boots.

“You’re lucky it was us who noticed your footprints.”

“Yes, as your benevolent guardian angels,”

“We are here to lend a hand.”

Hari huffed in frustration, she hadn’t thought about leaving foot prints. Suddenly an old peace of parchment was held under her nose. She took it gingerly.

“Uh… Thanks?” She said, unsure. They rolled their eyes before pointing their wands at the paper and saying together:

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Hari’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“H-how?” She gasped, looking back at the two Weasleys, then back to the map revealing itself.

“Magic.” They shrugged, Hari rolled her eyes and studied the map.

“Who are the marauders?” She asked, glancing curiously at the title.

“Bloody genius’s that’s who.” George told her, with a massive grin on his face.

Using her new map, Hari managed to sneak her way in Hogsmede, it was harder than she’d thought it’d be. The street was so packed and the shops busting with students, she struggled to avoid knocking into anyone under her cloak. It didn’t take her long to find Ron and Hermione though, she watched as they into the Three Broomsticks, and couldn’t resist following, a few harmless pranks wouldn’t hurt, before she revealed who she was. But her attention was quickly caught by Professor McGonagall and the Minister.

Remus puffed warm breath into his cold hands, hopping from foot to foot as he stood in the telephone box, waiting for Mary to pick up. It rung six times before she answered, she sounded breathless, as though she’d run to catch the call.

“Remus?” Her voice rattled down the line.

“Alright there Mary?” He teased, “Not interrupting anything am I?”

She laughed.

“God I wish.” She replied, he heard rustling like she was getting comfortable. “So, tell me everything. How’s school? Are you making any new friends?”

They chatted easily, Remus felt his shoulders unwind slightly as he talked about superficial things, how Hogwarts hasn’t changed, and that McGonagall still scared the sh*t out of him.

“So? Did you see her?” Mary finally asked, her voice eager.

“I did, she’s – f*ck Mary she’s just like them.” Remus felt his voice croak, he cleared his voice. “It’s – she asked about them.”

“Oh Remus…” Mary sighed. “Of course she would, is she, is she okay? Do you know who’s looking after her?”

Remus hesitated, she wasn’t going to like this.

“Petunia Dursley.” He got the name out as quick as he could, he hoped it would be like ripping off a plaster, maybe it would hurt her less.

The line was silent.

“Mary?”

There was a shaky gasp, then a long slow sigh.

“He sent her there?”

It hadn’t hurt less.

“We don’t know for sure-“ He began to try and reason, to sooth and calm, but Mary was quick to cut him off.

“Don’t you f*cking dare, Remus. Petunia Evans is a hateful cow, I don’t think marrying a bigot like Vernon f*cking Dursley will have done anything to change that.” She hissed angrily. “He sent her to them? I begged him- we begged them-“

“I know Mary, I know.”

And he did, sat in Dumbledore’s office, still reeling from it all, Mary at his side.

“I’m her godmother, Lily wanted-“

“I understand Miss McDonald, but in these circ*mstances, I’m afraid we have no choice.”

“We can’t even see her?” Remus had asked.

“I’m afraid not, any contact with the magical world could put her at risk.”

Remus hadn’t gotten a chance to mention his conversation with Regulus, almost as soon as she’d calmed down from the news, her brother had brought her sons back from their Saturday football match. They ended the call with the promise of Remus calling again soon. With a heavy sigh, he hung the receiver and pulled out a cigarette, let the embers warms his fingers as he trudged back to the castle.

He stomped the snow of his boots and cast a warming charm as he finally reunited with the warm halls of the castle, hoping to bring his toes back from the brink of frost bite. Coffee, he needed a coffee. Or a hot chocolate, a hot chocolate sounded good.

His mind was so occupied by thoughts of hot drinks when he entered his office, that it took him a double take to notice the floating head in one of his chairs.

Remus blinked once, then twice trying to get his head to register what on earth was at his desk. Then the head turned.

“Hari?” Remus asked the head; it took him only a second more to realise. James’s cloak, of course. It was then that he noticed Hari’s eyes were red and wide with years. “What’s wrong?” He asked, weren’t the third years supposed to be in Hogsmeade? Hari should be with her friends, drinking butterbeer and buying horrible tricks from Zonks.

“You didn’t tell me he was their friend.” Hari’s quiet voice broke up his thought process. Oh. Oh.

“No.” He said, moving to take the chair next to her. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why?” Hari’s voice sounded so small and shaky, it made Remus’s chest ache and shatter.

“I only wanted to tell you nice things about them.” He answered honestly. “There was so much bad, with the war… I wanted you to hear the good bits.”

“Why did he do it?” Hari turned her big green eyes, Lily’s eyes on him. “Why would he betray them? They loved him, he was the one who was supposed to look after me, they chose him to do that, for when they- if they couldn’t.”

Remus let out a long shaky sigh.

“I’ve asked myself that question so many times, I still don’t have an answer.” Was all Remus had to offer her, he felt terribly inadequate but that’s all he had. All he could do was share the pain, the confusion and betrayal, though he wished desperately to take it from her entirely.

Remus rose from his seat and, with the tap of his wand, opened the tea station he kept hidden behind his desk. Minutes later he handed Hari a hot chocolate, they sat in silence next to each other for a while, sipping the sweet warmth.

“Can’t you tell me about them, all of them?” Hari asked after a while. “The nice things, before it went bad.”

Remus smiled sadly, then nodded.

Hari stayed there until dinner, listening to the stories Remus could bare to tell, about him, Sirius, James, Lilly, and Peter.

Before it all went bad.

That night Sirius Black is spotted on the school grounds for the first time.

Chapter 5: Teenagers

Chapter Text

The rest of the autumn term passes with a quiet anxiety, curfew was moved to after dinner and no one was allowed out alone, with Professor stationed in every common room.

When the school finally began to empty as students went home for Christmas, Hari felt the castle give a sigh of relief. A few others than Ron, Hari and Hermione were staying over the holidays but they’re the only Gryffindor’s. Which meant the tradition of Hari and Hermione sneaking to sleep in the boys dorm could continue. It was poor foresight on the professor’s behalf really, the stairs to the girls rooms were enchanted to never let boys up there, the same could not be said for the boys dorm.

Not that the trio had anything untoward planned, but it had become a habit now, every Christmas when the dorm room emptied, Hari and Hermione would sleep over with Ron. Bringing pillows and blankets – it felt impolite to borrow the other boys beds – and all three of them would spread out on the boys dorm floor eating sweets and staying up till midnight.

Hari imagined this is what it would have been like if she’d grown up with siblings. Maybe she would have, Remus told her that her parents had wanted a big family, would she have had a little brother or sister? She liked to imagine they’d be like Ron and Hermione.

It was Christmas Eve and Hermione had fallen asleep with an ancient runes text book cradled in her lap, stray baby hairs poked out of her bonnet as she snored softly. Hari gently took the book from her friends hands and placed on the floor next to her, carefully saving the page. Ron snorted softly.

“Studying on Christmas Eve?” Ron asked with disbelief. “She’s mental.”

“The day ‘Mione stops overworking herself, is the day she gets body snatched.” Hari said lightly, picking up another chocolate frog, she glanced at the card before handing it to Ron, who inspected it briefly then broke into a smile.

“Oooh I don’t have this one.” He pocketed the small card.

“Consider it your Christmas present.” Hari teased, knowing she had a pack of Cannons Quidditch Team Top Trumps tucked in her trunk for him.

“So…” Ron started awkwardly. “Cedric, huh?”

Hari sighed and buried her face in her pillow.

“Not you too.” She grumbled, he just laughed.

“I just need to make sure I don’t have to have the big brother talk with him.”

Hari laughed.

“I’m older than you.” She reminded him.

“Yeah… well I need to get the practice in anyway,” He blushed, “For when Ginny starts noticing all her fans.”

“I think Ginny would be able to handle herself.” Hari pointed out, “So can I.” She added.

“I know that.” Ron said with frustration. “But it’s my job innit? Make sure no boys act like knobs to my sisters.”

Hari felt her chest get warm with love for her best friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but for now you can hold off.” Hari warned him with a happy smile. “Anyway I’m going to sleep, Hermione will wake up hours before us at this rate.” Ron snorted then sent her a quick ‘night’ before rolling over to sleep.

Hari tucked herself in to her pillow, hugging it tight. Surely her friends were imaging things, Cedric Diggory was by far the most fancied boy in the whole school, there’s no way he’d like her. Besides he was two years above them, surely that was too far apart.

I’m the oldest in our year, and he’s one of the youngest in his, it’s only a year difference really.

A traitorous voice whispered in the back of her head. It didn’t matter, there wasn’t a chance he would like her over all the other girls he could date if he wanted to. Every girl had a crush on him at some point, no matter their house or year. Hari found herself wondering if Malfoy had ever liked him, but she quickly shook the thought away, it doesn’t matter. Hermione and Ron were wrong, she needed to stop thinking about it.

As predicted, Hermione was awake and reading her book again when Hari finally woke and wished her a sleepy Merry Christmas. They all head down to the common room together to tear apart their gifts, Hari ended up with a hat and scarf to go with her new Weasley jumper, she wore them down to breakfast, not caring that she might have looked a bit silly.

Just as Hari finished her dippy egg and soldiers, there was a hoot as the owls flew through the hall, delivering the Christmas morning post. Hari knew not expect anything, Mrs Weasley had sent their gifts and letters the day before, so the three could open them first thing.

She was surprised when a tawny brown owl dropped down in front of her, with a long slender package wrapped in her talons.

“For me?” Hari asked, when the owl just stared at her, she offered him a bit of bacon and it swept off, leaving the parcel behind.

“Well?” Ron prodded. “Open it!” Hari couldn’t hide her excitement and curiosity as she tore into the paper, the remaining students in the hall had begun to crane their necks to get a look as brand new Firebolt revealed itself.

“No way!” Ron shouted with excitement. “Who sent you that!” Hari looked for a note or something but there was nothing to be found.

Hari quickly picked it up off the table, weighing it in her hands, it was so light.

“Hari hold on.” Hermione worried. “If we don’t know who sent it, we should be careful.”

Ron snorted. “Don’t be silly ‘Mione, it just a broom.” But it wasn’t just a broom, it was a Firebolt.

“I’m afraid I will have to agree with Miss Granger.” Came McGonagall’s voice from behind Hari.

Hari turned with wide eyes to their head of house.

“I’m sorry Miss Potter, but until we know where it came from, and we can be certain it’s safe. I will have to take it off you.” The Professor seemed to look genuinely sorry, but no less stern.

“What Miss! That’s not fair!” Ron whined.

Hari stared at her new broom, then back to the professor, she let a heavy sigh lose from her chest, then passed it over.

“I’ll return it as soon as am able.” McGonagall said with a reassuring smile, Hari tried to hide her disappointment as she sat back at the table.

“Wait to go ‘Mione!” Ron complained. Hermione turned on him.

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t get to have a go, it could be cursed.” She scolded the redhead, who flushed with anger but elected to sulk instead of continue arguing. Hermione turned back to Hari. “I really am sorry, Hari. But we know Black is after you, he was in the school only a couple of weeks ago.” Hari nodded half-heartedly, she tried to shake herself from her slump, it wasn’t like she was expecting a new broom and Cedric had offered to let her borrow his. Her stomach did strange little flips at the thought.

On the first day of the new term, Buckbeak was sentenced to death. Hagrid is crying as he breaks the news to Hari, Ron and Hermione. Hermione pats Hagrid’s shoulder gently to sooth the gentle giant. The rest of the visit is sombre as the three of them try to comfort their heart broken friend, it’s sunset when they finally leave the hut and head back to the school.

“I can’t believe it.” Hermione’s voice is barely a whisper.

“f*cking Malfoy.” Ron hisses, it spoke volumes of Hermione’s grief that she didn’t tell Ron of for his casual swearing.

The first day back after Easter would be Buckbeak’s last day, it left only a few short months before Hagrid would have to say goodbye to his feathered friend.

They walked in silence into the great hall, the silence was interrupted by the cruel laugh of Pansy Parkinson.

“I suppose you heard the news then?” She sneered, she stood to the left of Malfoy and Bullstrode.

“f*ck. Off.” Ron told the three girls, none of them were in the mood for this, not today. Parkinson seemed delighted by the reaction.

“Oh don’t be sad Weasel, I’m sure they can use it’s feathers to make you some kind of hat. I’m sure it will look better than anything you already own.” Pansy goaded on.

“Pans, let it go.” Malfoy warned her friend, pulling slightly on Pansy’s arm. Hari’s eyes zeroed onto Malfoy’s now unbandaged arm. Hermione clearly noticed as well.

“Not faking anymore now you got what you want, Dulcinea?” Hermione hissed at Malfoy, who blushed deeply.

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” Bullstrode shouted, taking a step forward to tower over the three of them.

“Or what?” Ron challenged, moving to meet the taller girl.

“f*cking mudblood lo-“ Whatever Bullstrode was going to say was quickly cut off by the sound of Hermione’s fist slamming into the other girls face.

“Holy sh*t Hermione!” Ron shouted as the Slytherin fell back into her friends.

“Bitch!” Pansy screamed, pushing past her stumbling friend with a hand raised, Hari finally jumped back to life to pull Hermione back away from the ascending girl.

“PANSY.” Malfoy shouted but Pansy didn’t listen, instead she grabbed Hari by her hair and pulled her to the ground.

“Girls!” A voice called down the hall, but Hari was busy trying to bite the girl pulling on her scalp. “GIRLS STOP THIS AT ONCE.” Boomed Professor McGonagall, this time they listened as they all threw away from each other. Hari’s face felt hot as she glared at the floor.

“Granger started it!” Bullstrode shouted immediately.

“I find that very hard to believe, Miss Bullstrode.” The deputy headmistress scorned.

“Um… actually.” Hermione admitted, Hari had never seen her friend look so ashamed, McGonagall’s shock and horror seemed to match their own.

“Headmasters office, all of you. Now.” McGonagall snapped then turned to lead the way.

All six of them sat opposite the disappointed gaze of their headmaster, Gryffindors on one side and Slytherin on the other, with their respective head of house stood glowering behind them.

“I must say, I am shocked to see this behaviour from all of you.” Dumbledore announced, disappointment heavy in his deep tone, Hari was certain she heard Professor Black scoff. The headmaster looked over at the two groups, each one of them looking away when they met his gaze, until he landed on Hari. “Especially you Harriet, after what happened this summer, I would have thought you would have learned to avoid such confrontation.”

“Sir!” Hermione immediately shot up to defend her.

“Sit down, Miss Granger.” McGonagall’s tone left no room for negotiation, Hermione lowered back into her chair.

Pansy snickered, but a hiss from Black quickly shut her back up. Hari couldn’t bring her gaze up from the floor, she blinked hard but couldn’t stop her tears, she angrily rubbed at her nose with her sleeve.

“I think detention for both parties for the month should suffice, headmaster?” Black offered, sounding very bored.

“And a ban from Hogsmeade for the term as well.” McGonagall added mercilessly.

“What that’s not fair! Potty-uh Potter can’t even go to Hogsmeade anyway!” Millicent shouted.

“That’s quite enough.” Dumbledore declared. “I agree with your house heads, as well as 50 points from both houses. You six return to your common rooms for the day. Thank you.” He dismissed shortly.

Both trios stood and left in silence, not exchanging so much as a dirty look as they parted in the hallways to return to their dorms.

“I can’t believe you hit Bullstrode.” Ron said with a little bit of awe as the three headed towards Gryffindor tower.

“I know.” Hermione nearly whispered. “I’m so sorry, it just happened, I didn’t mean to get you both in trouble for it.”

“Eh, it was worth it.” Ron said with an easy grin, “Hogsmeade wasn’t all that anyways.” Hermione smiled gratefully.

“You okay, Hari?” Hermione asked the quiet girl, Hari snapped her head up from the ground.

“Hm?”

“What Professor Dumbledore said... that wasn’t okay.” Hermione told her, as if it was important that Hari heard it.

“Yeah, what was with that? Like you can control some rabid bitch from attacking you, whether it’s a dog, or Pansy Parkinson.” Ron joked, Hari was grateful Hermione hadn’t shared the conversation they’d had before they returned, but it still stung a little for him to describe it so wrong.

“Maybe it’s because we’re taking divination?” Hari suggested hollowly, “Thinks I’m a seer or something.” Ron chuckled good natured at the weak joke. Hari went straight upstairs to their room, Hermione offered to follow but Hari turned her down gently, she needed to be alone.

A few days later, Hari woke from another nightmare.

Another night where she woke grasping at her throat and her back damp with sweat. A quick glance around the room told her the others still slept soundly, exhausted, but knowing she wouldn’t sleep again any time soon – Hari grabbed her cloak and with map in hand, she went for a walk.

Keeping an eye to ensure no teachers were lurking around corners, not that she needed it – it wasn’t like they could see her, Hari wondered through the ancient castle.

The map seemed to show every nook and cranny within the school, including house elf passageways and abandoned classrooms. No wonder the twins had gotten away with so much over the years, Hari could only wonder who The Marauders might have been, and what kind of mischief they might have gotten involved in. Maybe she could ask Lupin about it, she knew her father got into trouble with friends, maybe they knew who they were.

Hari poured over the map, looking at the names littered across the castle, most were in bed now. Filch was near the dungeon, with Mrs Norris in tow, Black was also on the prowl on the seventh floor - she’d avoid them both as best she could.

There were also some students in the astronomy tower, though that wasn’t unusual, she didn’t recognise the names. There was another name she recognised, but that didn’t seem right.

Peter Pettigrew is dead.

Was he a ghost in the castle now? She wondered, though she had thought a person could only haunt the place they died, Peter had died in Godric’s Hollow with her parents. That made Hari stop dead in her tracks, she held the map up proper to examine, if his ghost was here then maybe… she looked desperately for their names, she’d never seen them written down before, she thought briefly.

Disappointment twisted in her gut like a knife, they weren’t here, of course they weren’t.

But Dulcinea Malfoy was in Moaning Mertyl’s bathroom.

Hari did a double take, but she was not mistaken, Malfoy was in the second floor girls toilets.

Huh.

Before Hari could think, she found her feet leading her in that direction.

It wasn’t safe for Malfoy to be up this late on her own. There was a killer on the loose after all, and Hari refused to think any deeper about it.

Hari kept her cloak tight around her as she pushed the door to the toilets open, she didn’t see Malfoy at first, until she spotted a small, hunched figure, clutching parchment in her hands.

“Dulcinea?” Hari asked, concern suddenly flushed her. Malfoy’s head immediately snapped up, wand in hand, she looked around confused.

“Mertyl?” She asked, her voice quiet and rough – she’d been crying.

Hari realised she still wore her cloak and slipped down the hood.

“It’s me.”

“What the f*ck, Potter.” Malfoy gasped at the floating head before her, “Where is your body?!”

Hari couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s reaction, somewhat satisfied to have shocked her so thoroughly, she slipped the cloak off her shoulders, folding it neatly over her arm.

“Still here, don’t worry.” She teased. “What’s up with you?” Hari jutted her chin to the letter Malfoy was clutching with her wandless hand, the other girl crumpled it in her hand and held it to her chest.

“I should have known you had a something like that, Pansy was sure you were all using Polyjuice to sneak around all the time.” Malfoy scoffed.

“We did once.” Hari offered casually, enjoying the amazed expression Malfoy seemed unable to fight off. “Prefer the cloak though, less side effects”

“Oh well, of course.” She almost laughed, almost. “You’re absurd, Potter.”

“Says the girl who reads her post hidden in the loo in the middle of night.” Hari snarked back, placing herself on the floor opposite Malfoy.

“I like the ambiance.” She said with a smirk. Hari would count it as a smile.

“Ah of course.” Hari nodded as if it was the most sensible thing to do. There was a beat of silence as Malfoy stared at Hari intently, and Hari was determined to look at anything but the girl in front of her. “It was in here actually.”

“What?” Malfoy sounded exhausted.

“Where we brewed the Polyjuice, well, ‘Mione brewed it. Ron and I are rubbish at potions.” Hari admitted sheepishly.

“I’ve noticed.” Came her reply, Hari looked at her then and smiled, the sneer that almost always crowded the other girls face was absent, instead replaced with a look of such bewilderment – Hari wondered if she thought she was dreaming.

“So, what you readin’?” Hari tried again, Malfoy sighed, seemingly giving in.

“Letter from Father.” She gestured to the letter in her hand. “He’s… not pleased.”

Hari nodded, thinking quietly before she spoke, it wasn’t a skill she was used to using.

“About the… about the fight?” She offered eventually. Malfoy scoffed.

“More the detentions.” Another long pause of quiet. “He’s also upset that I took off the sling.” She gestured to the uninjured arm. “Isn’t good for the case against the – uh-“

“Buckbeak.” Hari said.

“Yes.” Malfoy sighed.

They were silent again for a while, not uncomfortable, just contemplative.

“Tha-“

“I’m-“

Malfoy rolled her eyes and Hari blushed, the blonde gestured for Hari to continue.

“Thank you for trying to stop it, the fight I mean.” Hari said. She’d only realised the next day, as they’d all sat in detention together, writing lines on ‘disruptive behaviour’ and ‘school unity’. Malfoy hadn’t just not joined in; she’d tried to stop her friends from starting with them to begin with. Hari wasn’t sure what was different about Malfoy this year, but she was curious to find out.

“For what good it did.” Malfoy snorted. “Milly and Pans were never good at leaving well enough alone.” She shook her head.

“They’re your friends.” Hari said.

“Yes, they are.” Malfoy replied, jutting out her chin slightly, as if wating for whatever it was Hari would say next.

“Do you think we could be friends?” Hari found herself asking, without really thinking about it. She had no idea why she’d said it, did she even want that? Dulcinea Malfoy was snobby and could be unforgivable cruel, but she was also funny sometimes and could be kind, secretly. Surely that wasn’t enough to warrant friendship.

“It… wouldn’t be good, for Father to think we’re friends.” Malfoy seemed to warn, Hari snorted.

“Your father doesn’t seem to like much, does he?”

Malfoy laughed, a small bitter thing that seemed to jut from her chest.

“No, he doesn’t.” There was a silence again and Hari found herself anxious for what the other girl would say next, God she really wanted to be her friend, didn’t she? “But if he doesn’t know…” Malfoy considered with a tiny grin.

Hari returned it in full.

“I’m good at sneaking around, as you’ve noticed.” Hari joked, pointing to her cloak, Malfoy rolled her eyes.

“Fine we can be friends. But if you tell anyone I’ll deny it and tell them your delusional and stalking me.”

“That seems reasonable.” Hari agreed, unable to stop the big smile across her face.

Malfoy insisted that Hari sneak her back to the Slytherin dorms under her cloak, Hari agreed, excited for the opportunity to show it off.

“Good!” Professor Lupin encouraged when a pathetic sliver of blue trickled out of Hari’s wand. She looked at him sceptically. He only laughed gently. “I know it doesn’t seem much, but it’s a great start!” He encouraged. “Another go, and we’ll try with the bogart. You must really concentrate on this happy memory, imagine you are in the moment, remember the smells, the sounds- all of it.” Hari gave a firm nod and tried again.

She pictured Hagrid handing her Hedwig for the first time, the smells of sweets and pumpkin bread and butter beer, the sounds of children running around in Diagon Alley excited for their first year at Hogwarts. It was the first time she’d ever been given a gift, and it was by far the best she could ever receive. The warmth of her friend smiling and patting his big hand on her scruffy head filled Hari with a comfort that kept her grounded as she shouted.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A bright blue spark flew from her wand, it blinded Hari, causing her to flinch away from it.

As the light eventually dimmed, Hari gasped with excitement.

“That was good right?” She asked the lanky teacher; he took a moment to answer.

“That was very good, I- I think you nearly got the shape, care to try again? I’ll open the chest now.” He warned, Hari gave a confident thumbs up and readied herself.

As the chest sprung open and the dark shadow leapt out at her, her throat began to close and the cold seeped into her, but she fought it off and summoned again.

Even with the patronus, she still fainted, which annoyed her to no end. Lupin quickly helped her sit up again, chocolate already pressed into her hand.

“Ugh I keep doing that lately.” She huffed, taking a bite of the Picnic bar. Ew, raisins.

“Extenuating circ*mstances.” Lupin assured her, sat next to her on the floor as she ate.

“So, what did it look like?” She asked, “I didn’t get to see.”

“A dog.” He said simply, though he had a thorough frown on his forehead. Hari swallowed the gross raisin-y lump.

“Like the one who protected me.” She said without thinking.

“What do you mean, protected you?” Lupin asked. Hari regretted saying it instantly, she stared at her trainers, maybe if she stayed quiet long enough, she wouldn’t have to answer. “Hari, tell me what happened that day, please.” No such luck.

She cleared the chocolate from her throat.

“My cousin is… we don’t get on, him and his mates pick fights with me a lot. Just usual stuff, Ron and his brother’s pick on each other all the time.” Hari started, trying to ignore the stare of her professor boring into the side of her head. “He had a new friend that day, P-Paul.” The name felt heavy on her tongue. “They were- they were holding me down, thought they’d fill my mouth with dirt or something, the usual y’know. But um- He, they.” Hari stopped. She didn’t want to do this.

“Hari-“

“They tried to take off my clothes.” She gasped out, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, her eyes stinging. She balled her fists up in her robes as she continued. “But then the dog, it stopped them. It bit Dudley, then it grabbed Paul, it bit his neck and it kept biting.”

“I woke up in the hospital and my Aunt Petunia told me he nearly died.” There was a silence weighing impossibly heavy in the room. “It protected me; the dog saved me. It didn’t attack me.”

When she finally found the courage to look at Lupin, he was staring at her, his eyes wide and rimmed with red. He was angry, he was angry with her.

“I mean- I – it-“ She didn’t know what to say to fix it, to un-tell it.

“You should never have gone to them.” He whispered.

“I didn’t! I was running away!” Hari shouted without thinking, her tears spilling over. She didn’t go to Dudley, she never wanted this to happen! That seemed to shock him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

“No- No Hari.” He hovered a hand over her shoulder, as though he wanted to comfort her, but quickly pulled away. “You are not at fault. I meant that Dumbledore should never have sent you to the Dursley’s… they’re not good people.”

Hari snorted.

“No sh*t.” She said, then covered her mouth, realising she just swore in front of a teacher. “Sorry.”

“I think, given the situation, swearing is appropriate.” Lupin took a deep breath. “Professor Dumbledore knows all this? He knows that the Dursley’s… allow this?”

“He knows what they’re like, he meets with them every year. He says muggles can be like that sometimes. Afraid of magic n stuff, Aunt Petunia used to be nice.” Hari reasoned, remembering the days when she was small, maybe 6 or 7, when her aunt loved having another girl in the house, they’d buy dresses and she’d teach her how to braid her hair. That was before the day in the garden, when she made one of Petunia’s rose bushes bloom early just by wishing it. There were no nice days after that.

“No Hari.” Lupin told her firmly. “That’s not okay. None of this is okay.” He let out a sigh that seemed to last days.

“You can’t – you can’t tell anyone.” Hari suddenly panicked, “People already think things about me- and if the headmaster says its fine, and he told Mrs Weasley so…” This didn’t calm the professor in the way she had hoped. He took a breath.

“The boy got what he deserved, and you will not go back there.”

Hari stared at her teacher in shock for a moment, when Hermione had said similar things, it had just felt like what a friend was supposed to say. Words to make you feel better, to make it hurt less. She didn’t doubt Hermione meant them, but there was little she could do. A teacher though, an adult saying it… made it feel real. Another notch loosened in her chest and breathing almost felt normal again.

Chapter 6: I Cant't Do This Again

Chapter Text

When Hari eventually left Remus’s office he handed her a note, she had time to get back before curfew, but he handed it to her anyway, just in case Filch was an arse. After she’d told him everything, they talked about Lily and James again. She asked about little things, what their favourite subjects were, who Lily was friends with. Even when he’d have to omit much of his school years, he still found enough to tell the small girl. Despite being recently fourteen she looked barely twelve, her robes seemed to swamp her, weren’t they fitted by Madam Merkle? They would have fit perfectly when they were bought, which only meant Hari had shrunk since last year, the thought brought bile to Remus’s throat.

He slumped into his desk chair and pulled open a draw, pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, he took a deep breath and vanished the released smoke. McGonagall would kill him if she found he had been smoking in his classroom. But he had his own bone to pick with his old professor now, Hari had said McGonagall had known she was with the Dursleys, that they all ‘knew what they were like’, his stomach turned at the memory.

That was Lily and James’s girl, his family, Dumbledore had promised she would be kept safe, that she would be protected. All those times Mary had sat on his couch with him, worrying about Hari, and Remus had assured her, told her not to worry, that Dumbledore wouldn’t let her be hurt. He felt like a fool for every trusting the man.

It had hurt Remus to not know where his best friend’s child was, the last fragment of the family he had found for himself, the only part that wasn’t dead or mad in Azkaban.

Or not, it seemed.

Remus had recognised the shimmer and shadow that had pushed out of Hari’s wand, he knew that shape as well has he knew his own face. He dreamed of it still, after all this time, he dreamed of the big black dog that used to run with him, that would curl at his feet in their dorm room. It was him; Sirius had been the one to save Hari, he had protected her.

It didn’t make any sense, it couldn’t be right, but it was clear that Hari saw that shape as something that would keep her safe.

If only she knew the truth.

If that was what it was.

His brain added cruelly, in that voice he’d heard so many times over the years, tugging at the back of his mind, trying to tell him that it wasn’t true. That the man he’d trusted more than anyone could destroy them all like that.

But it was, it had to be.

Quickly he stumped out his cigarette and charmed away the evidence, he couldn’t get detention anymore, but that didn’t mean he didn’t fear McGonagall’s wrath – he wasn’t an idiot. Then Remus pocketed his wand and locked his office behind, he would keep his promise to Hari, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give Dumbledore a chat about the things they already both knew, that Albus had known the whole time.

Albus Dumbledore’s calm voice called for Remus to enter after a quiet knock.

“Remus.” The elder man nodded, Remus returned the greeting, still unused to being on first name basis with his old teachers.

“Headmaster, may I speak with you a moment? It’s about Harriet Potter.” Remus asked, sitting in the chair across the desk.

“Why of course, I suspected you may come to see me about her at some point.” Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled with a quiet smile. “It must be quite a shock, seeing Lily and James’s daughter, after so many years.”

Remus’s throat tightened.

“Yes.” He replied quickly, “I wanted to talk about that specifically, you never told me where she would go, I understand why after – after everything.” Remus paused a moment. “But Mary and I had no idea she was going to Petunia Evans, sir.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, as though he understood perfectly, Remus suspected he did not.

“I understand your reservations, but I assure you that Harriet was placed where McGonagall and I agreed she would be safest.”

“But Petunia hates magic, Lily hadn’t spoken to her in years, and from what I’ve heard her husband is no better.” Remus reasoned, “Lily and James would never have wanted Hari to go to them.” He added quietly, unable to meet the headmaster’s kind gaze.

“There were… many things that none of us had anticipated, the circ*mstances left us with no choice.” Dumbledore shook his head as though it saddened him greatly, Remus’s stomach churned at the memories. “But the Dursley’s are her guardians, and they are doing their best, I’m sure.”

Remus’s gaze snapped up to the ancient wizard then.

“Doing their best? Surely you misspoke sir, Hari can’t be going back to them, not after the summer.” He’d known that’s what Hari had assumed from the way she spoke, but that couldn’t possibly be what Dumbledore intended, not after knowing what Hari had been going through.

“Ah. Hari told you her version of events then.” Dumbledore stood from his desk slowly, clasping his paper thin hands behind his back. “She was quite confused by the shock of it all, I believe.” The headmaster meandered over to his pensive. “I had to search the Dursley boy’s mind, to alter it for him, to reduce the trauma of it all. In doing so I saw what had happened, it differs somewhat from Hari’s account.” Pale hands pulled a cork from a vial and poured a memory into the fountain, at Dumbledore’s que, Remus stood and joined him, hesitantly he dipped a hand into the cold water.

‘Shut up Dudley!” Hari’s voice shook across a small, dilapidated park, she stood defiantly, yelling at a large boy and his friends.

“Oooh she’s mad Dud’s!” A second boy goaded, smiling cruelly.

“Don’t get mad! We just want to play.” The boy that must be Dursley shouted back. “Don’t be boring.”

It was then that Hari ran, the boys chased, and the Dudley caught her, grabbing her wrist, it was then that Hari punched the boy in the face. A scuffle broke out, only to be interrupted by a dog – a staffy it looked like – snapping at Dursley, another boy tried to pull the dog off his friend, only for it to turn and latch onto his neck. It was then that Hari collapsed to the ground.

Then the memory faded and began anew.

Remus pulled his hand from the waters, wiping the moisture off on the napkin Dumbledore had handed him. The headmaster’s smile was kind but sad.

“You see? I don’t doubt Hari believes her account, but with so much happening in such a short time, it is no surprise the poor dear got confused.” Dumbledore explained as he rebottled the memory.

“Professor McGonagall has seen this?” Remus asked, he tone even.

“I showed the memory to Professor McGonagall as Harriet’s head of house, I wanted to make sure she was aware, I believe a certain sensitivity is required.” The headmaster told him grimly.

“I see.” Remus said. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Yes, of course. I should have shown you earlier truly, but I did not think she would talk to you about it.” Dumbledore admitted with a small shrug. “But you can see how Hari could be… confused about some events, she is young after all, but to me it seems no more than the usual horseplay between young people. It was just an unfortunate escalation by a stray dog. It was caught later, put down, so I understand.”

“Right.” Remus said after the silence went a little too long. “Well, I won’t keep you, I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late.”

“No trouble.” Dumbledore answered kindly, he placed a squeeze on Remus’s shoulder before guiding him to the door.

Remus returned to his quarters, and it wasn’t until his door closed behind him that he let the disgust bubbling in his chest show on his face.

Lying old bastard.

Regulus had always hated Sirius’s friends, hated how loud and obnoxious they all were, acting as though they were the main characters of Hogwarts and the rest of them were all supporting cast.

Sirius and James were the worst of them, joined at the hip as they strutted through the halls, always the centre of attention.

Peter had been obvious in his jealously of them, particularly of Sirius, he constantly fought for Potter’s attention, and turning bitter and resentful when he was denied it. A younger Regulus had been disgusted by the shorter boy’s desperate vying for attention, he now knew that what he had hated about Peter Pettigrew was how similar they both were. Regulus had hated Sirius’s friends because in his eyes, they were the ones that had stolen his brother.

He had found Remus Lupin to be the most tolerable, he was intelligent and sharp, with a more subtle way about him. Less arrogant, easily falling into the background, yet his presence was obvious, at least to Regulus.

At least that’s how Regulus used to feel.

He had now decided that Remus Lupin was the most insufferable bastard in Hogwarts history.

Since their first regretful interaction for the first full moon, Remus had seemed to decide that the two of them were friends, which Regulus would not allow. He had taken to sitting next to him in the great hall, even attempting honest to Merlin small talk.

And here he was again, not even knocking before waltzing into Regulus’s office, as if he were at all welcome.

“Regulus.” He said sternly, his tone far more serious than he’d gotten used to, using his actual name rather than the bastardization he’d been calling him lately.

“If you don’t start knocking, I will set up wards.” Regulus warned him, but Remus ignored him, taking a seat at his desk, uninvited. “Please, make yourself at home.” He gestured with a sigh of annoyance.

“I need to talk to you.” Remus said, “About Harriet Potter.”

Regulus made a conscious effort to stop his draw from clenching. He signalled for him to continue.

“Did you know she was living with Petunia and Vernon Dursley?” He asked without preamble.

Regulus co*cked a brow.

“Her muggle relatives? Yes, I was aware.” He answered, intrigued by the sneer on Remus’s lip..

“Were you also aware of the opinions they hold around magic? Of what they thought of James and Lily?” He continued, his brow furrowing, he was leaning forward onto Regulus desk, which annoyed him greatly.

“No, why should I? Harriet Potter is not in Slytherin, and therefor not my responsibility.” Regulus dismissed. Remus visibly bristled.

“Any student being abused at home should be your concern, regardless of house.” Remus snapped. Regulus flinched at this, just barely.

“If you have evidence of abuse, then you should bring it to headmaster.”

Remus leapt from his chair and began pacing, he went back and forth twice before stopping again in front of the desk.

“Do you know what happened this summer, at Hari’s home?”

Regulus noted the use of the obvious familiarity between Remus and the Potter child, but said nothing.

“I have heard the students gossiping, an altercation of some sort, I’m uncertain of the details.” Regulus dismissed, “Again, why are you bringing this to me?”

“I-“ Remus gritted his teeth. “Hari told me what happened, it caused concern, so I went to Dumbledore. He showed me a- a pensive memory from Hari’s cousin, it was altered.”

Regulus raised his brow.

“I know it was.”

“You’re accusing Albus Dumbledore of duplicity, based on the word of a fourteen year old.”

“Not just her word.” Remus shook his head, “Hari has been practicing summoning her patronus. She has been doing exceptionally well, it is partially corporeal.”

“Impressive, I fail to see the relevance.”

“I know you know about Sirius. How the others were animgus.” Remus declared, “But do you know what shapes they took?”

Regulus was glaring now.

“No.” He lied easily. He knew Remus didn’t believe him, but continued anyway.

“Sirius can turn into a dog, a black Irish wolfhound to be specific, the same shape as Hari’s patronus, the one she described saving her from being attacked by her cousin and his friends. The memory Dumbledore showed me had a completely different dog.” Remus explained, his eyes somewhat desperate.

“You think Dumbledore is protecting Sirius?” Regulus asked. Remus huffed a sigh, throwing his arms up.

“I have no f*cking idea, I didn’t think he even knew that Sirius was an animagus!” He then collapsed rather dramatically into his chair again. “I don’t know why he changed the memory, but its what he showed to McGonagall. It wasn’t just the dog he changed, he – what happened was an attack on Hari, but he showed me a simple – a fight between children. That’s not how Hari remembers it, and I’m inclined to believe her.”

Regulus pulled out his wand and tapped it twice on his desk, summoning two glasses from a cupboard, and a bottle of wine. The drinks poured themselves and one slid across the desk to Remus’s awaiting hand. Regulus took a long swig, downing the glass, before putting it down so it could fill again. He took a more measured sip this time.

“The classroom is warded with silencing charms, this conversation does not leave this room. Understood?” Regulus levelled a stern glare at Remus, who nodded once, taking a sip of his own drink.

“I don’t know what Dumbledore has planned with Harriet, but it’s no secret that he favours her, he – there have been several events since Harriet started school that involved the Dark Lord.” Regulus said curtly. Remus spluttered on his wine.

“No- he’s-“

“Dead but not gone. He has possessed one professor and one student. First in search of the Philospher’s stone, and second to open the Chamber of Secrets. Harriet and her friends were the ones that stopped him both times.” Regulus didn’t even pause for breath, not allowing Remus to interrupt.

Remus stared at him, opened his mouth to speak, then stopped in favour of downing his drink. He poured another, then a third.

“How?”

Regulus scoffed.

“Information I am not privy to, only Dumbledore, Miss Granger and the two youngest Weasley’s know the details.” Regulus informed with a sneer.

“Their children.” Remus hissed.

“Has that stopped dear Albus before?” Regulus hissed, “Children have always been crucial in wizarding wars.”

“How is he still alive?” Remus hissed, “He died, they died to kill him.”

“I know.” Regulus sighed, he put his glass down, unable to finish it. “Believe me, after everything that went into stopping him – I know. I also know that this war is not over, and that Dumbledore plans for Harriet to be at the centre of it.”

Remus grimaced.

“We can’t allow that.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“I may not have an investment in Harriet Potter, but I do have an investment in making sure the Dark Lord doesn’t make a return. Whilst she and Dumbledore may be the first he seeks to kill, I’m certain I would be second. He has no tolerance for traitors.”

Remus snorted.

“But what does this mean for the memory, for Sirius?” He asked.

“I don’t know, but I want to find out, and the only way we can do that is by making sure we find him before anyone else.”

The remainder of the term falls into somewhat of routine; lessons, quidditch, dinner, detention, then afterwards Hari would split her evenings between the common room, Lupin’s office and the occasional trip to Hagrid’s hut. Hari, Ron and Hermione tried to visit their mourning friend more often after the announcement of Buckbeak’s execution, it seemed to cheer him up some, if only slightly.

When sleep came and then was inevitably interrupted by nightmares of long black cloaks, knees on her neck and dogs with bright yellow eyes, Hari would find herself sitting on the second-floor girls’ bathroom with Malfoy. Or Dulcinea, as she’d started calling her, Hari remained Potter, though she was Harriet once, accidentally. Then never again.

They wouldn’t talk about anything very important, mostly Dulcinea asked about the previous years, apparently, she’d been building theories over the years and was determined to have them confirmed. Hari was happy to indulge, though she was a little uncertain when it came to their second year activities.

“You thought I was the Heir of Slytherin?” Dulcinea asked in disbelief.

“Well, I mean.” Hari shrugged. “You are probably the most Slytherin person out there, except maybe Black. He was our other suspect.”

Dulcinea rolled her eyes.

“I wish.” She huffed, Hari raised an eyebrow. Dulcinea stuttered. “Not the releasing a basilisk part, or the… possession.” She shivered. “But you have no idea what an honour it would be, for a Slytherin…”

“Your dad wanted it to be you.” Hari said simply. Dulcinea nodded, then Hari remembered something Ron had said. “Is it true you tried to talk the snakes in the dungeons?”

A blush bloomed up along the paler girls neck all the way to her roots, she cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself.

“D-don’t be stupid, Potter.” She huffed defensively.

Hari laughed. “Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?”

“S-shut up.” Dulcinea spluttered, but Hari could only laugh harder.

An image of Dulcinea Malfoy stood in front of a snake portrait, hissing uselessly as she tried to get it to talk to her.

“Stop laughing!” Dulcinea demanded and shoved Hari’s shoulder, she didn’t push hard but Hari fell to the ground in a fit of giggles. Eventually Dulcinea joined in the laughter despite herself.

“Do you want to see it?” Hari asked breathlessly once she’d managed to recover. Dulcinea rolled her eyes.

“I’ve seen you speak parstletongue before, it’s really not that impressive.”

“No, I mean the chamber.” Hari continued.

She shouldn’t have offered that.

“Really?” Dulcinea blue eyes lit up brightly.

Take it back, take it back.

“It’s a bit… Basilisk corpse and rubble-y I’d imagine, but we could still see it.”

What was she doing? Dumbledore told her quite specifically not to open the Chamber of Secrets again, under any circ*mstances.

“Where is it?” Dulcinea pressed, leaning forward.

“Here.” Hari tipped her head in the direction of the sinks. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“You’re having me on.” Dulcinea dismissed, “Knew I shouldn’t have believed you. Bloody Potter.”

She was going to open the Chamber of Bloody Secrets.

Hari co*cked an eyebrow at the challenge and stood, walking over to the sink she’d gestured to.

Dulcinea rolled her eyes again, “Where are you going?”

Hari just smiled mischievously, then her eyes found the engraved snake and she spoke:

“Open.”

There was great grinding of stone on stone as the sink began to fall, just as it did not a year before, Hari heard a hiss as the fowl air released from the rotten dungeon below. Hari turned for a reaction, Dulcinea just stood, mouth agape. Her eyes had lost their usual cold detachment and were now shining as bright as a child at Christmas.

“What do you think?” Hari asked knowing she’d managed to impress the Slytherin girl.

Was that what it was about? Impressing Dulcinea Malfoy?

Before Dulcinea could answer there was a shout from the corridor.

“sh*t.” Hari hissed, she quickly chucked her cloak at Malfoy and turned to close the entrance. Just as the stone scraped closed the toilet door was thrown open.

“Miss Potter, what do you think you are doing?” Professor Black demanded. Hari glanced to where Dulcinea had been standing, the space was now empty, except for the map that Hari had left on the ground where they’d been sitting. sh*t.

“Pissing, sir.” Hari answered, Black looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Remus found himself wandering the western wing, he didn’t mind the night patrol too much, he didn’t sleep much anyway. It still felt strange however, being allowed to walk through the corridors at night, half of him still expected to be caught by Slughorn. He wondered what the others would say now, seeing Moony become Professor Lupin, the thought made me him chuckle.

He was just turning a corner towards the second-floor hospital wing when he heard the sound of quick footsteps. He brought the light shining from his wand higher to see, but the hallway surrounding him was empty, not even the blue glow of Peeves flittering through a wall.

Curious and cautious Remus followed where he suspected the sound originated, and then he heard the distinct sound of Black’s cutting drawl. With a sigh Remus decided to rescue whichever poor bugger managed to get themselves caught by the potion’s master.

Of course, it was Hari. She was staring at her slippers as Black lectured her.

“Do not take me for a fool, Potter.” He snapped, “I’m sure you don’t need me to inform you how utterly stupid it is for you to being breaking curfew in your current predicament, whilst there is a madman out on the hunt for you?”

Hari’s only squirmed.

“Don’t tell Dumbledore, sir.” She let out the whisper.

Black scoffed.

“Do not presume, to ask me for favours, Miss Potter.” He scorned.

"Professor Black, Miss Potter.” Remus cut a short greeting to the pair as he hovered in the bathroom entrance.

“Lupin.” Black returned coolly.

“I didn’t realise I there were two of us on patrol this evening.” Remus said.

“I am not.” Black replied. “I heard a commotion and found Miss Potter here,” He gestured vaguely to the third year. “She must have slipped under your nose.” He added pointedly.

“Yes well, I appreciate your assistance.” Remus said with mock gratitude. “But I shall handle it from here.”

Black’s lip curled with distaste, but he relented with a curt nod before he turned a sharp glare at Hari then left with the sweep of his ridiculous cloak.

Remus turned to Hari, who at least had the grace not to look relieved.

Remus lifted a brow at her. “Care to explain?”

Hari gave him a smirk that reminded him so much of James it knocked the wind out of him.

“Sleep walking?” She offered.

“That would certainly explain why you don’t have your father’s cloak.” Hari seemed to blush at this.

“Come along then, lets get you back to your dorm.” Remus sighed, and gestured for her to follow. Hari seemed to glance at him and then at something on the floor, then she walked over and grabbed a piece of parchment then went to follow him. Remus quirked his brow.

“Just a letter.” Hari tried to lie.

“Harriet.” He warned, then Hari offered him the parchment, Remus’s heart leapt to his throat when his fingers brushed the familiar magic. “Where did you find this?” Hari’s eyes lit up with understanding.

“I knew it.” She gasped; Remus met her gaze with confusion. “You said that you and my dad and Si- your friends, that you all did all those pranks, but you always got away didn’t you? This is how.” She determined; Remus smiled fondly.

“Your mother figured us out as well.” Remus laughed, Hari only beamed. Remus shook his head. “But that doesn't make your behaviour okay, Sirius Black knows this map exists Hari. If he got a hold of it…” Remus dreaded to think, Hari’s eyes widened with horror, had she not thought of that until now?

Remus led Hari back to Gryffindor in silence, the map sitting heavy and stiff in his breast pocket, it almost didn’t feel right that it still existed. That it survived after everything, still with the four names long forgotten.

“Did you know Peter Pettigrew’s ghost is in the castle?” Hari asked as they both stood at the portrait. Remus felt his blood run cold.

“What?” His voice was barely audible.

“Yeah, I don’t know how but I saw his name near the greenhouses a few weeks ago.” Hari said casually, “Have you seen him?”

“No.” Remus gasped, surprised a sound managed to come out.

“Well, if you do, mind introducing us?” Hari asked, “I’d like to meet another one of their friends, if that would be okay.”

“I-“ Remus cleared his throat, his thoughts racing faster than he could possibly keep up with. “Go to bed Hari.” He finally managed to get out before he swiftly turned and walked away. As soon as he heard the portrait shut behind Hari, Remus tore the map from his pocket and searched frantically for the name, it couldn’t be – there was no way – not after all this time.

It would change everything.

Chapter 7: Cardigan

Chapter Text

Hari’s stomach churned with anxiety, it was the final match of the house cup, Ravenclaw had given them a hard go of it, Cho Chang was a good seeker but even on Cedric’s unfamiliar broom, Hari was able to just get past her and grab the snitch in time.

If they one today, Gryffindor would take home the house cup for the second year in a row.

It shouldn’t have made her feel better to see Dulcinea coming through the other side of the pitch, she was a good seeker, far better than the replacement they’d had against Ravenclaw whilst she was injured. But Hari felt her face lift into a smile to see her unlikely friend stood opposite her as their captains shook hand.

They took their places on the ground in the middle of the pitch, sitting and waiting as the game started and their teammates soared above. Hari usually hated this part of the match, just sitting and waiting for her turn to fly, but she’d had worse company.

“Scared, Potter?” Dulcinea’s lips twitched as she spoke.

“You wish.” Hari replied with a smile, then the whistle blew, and they were released. Hari immediately flew straight to the top of the pitch and began her circle around, searching for the snitch. Gryffindor held the advantage, she was free to capture as soon as she saw it, and Dulcinea knew it. She circled slightly above Hari, caught between glancing at her opponent and scouring the pitch for a flicker of gold.

Hari did her best to keep her face cool when she spotted it, glinting behind the head of the Slytherin beater, a glance at Malfoy told her that her efforts were wasted.

Bright grey eyes met green across the sky, a challenge with a co*ck of a brow.

Hari was never good at saying no to a challenge from Dulcinea Malfoy, without thinking she drove down, dodging a carefully targeted bludger as she flew as fast as she could to the rival teams hoops.

Malfoy caught up quickly on her superior broom, Hari could almost feel the other girls arm brush against her own as they moved – synchronised – following the snitch as it circled the hoops then darted back down, staying low to the pitch. Hari grinned, she was better at manoeuvring low to the ground than Malfoy. The blonde may be good at weaving the stands, but she could never keep up with Hari when it came to keeping her broom level like this.

Hari almost didn’t want to catch the thing, because it would mean an end to the game, and she’d not be able to hear Malfoy’s cursing as they chased the snitch.

Almost.

She still wanted to win.

When Hari closed her fist around the ball of gold and held it up high for Madam Hooch to see, three quarters of the crowd erupted into cheers and whoops, the remaining quarter were Slytherin.

They’d done it, and once again Hari was on the Weasley twins’ shoulder as she held up the house cup, she couldn’t wait to add this to her remember ball.

Sirius Black had attacked again, after the match Ron had returned to find his bed shredded to pieces and his wand stolen, Hari patted her friend around the shoulders in the common room. His usual pale skin now a sickly green with fear, all celebrations for the cup had ceased. That night all the students slept in the great hall, it reassured Ron somewhat to know he’d be surrounded by the whole school that night, but his colour didn’t return to normal.

Buckbeak’s execution was the day of their last exam for the year. It was unseasonably warm.

They couldn’t stay to be with Hagrid for when it happened, for which Hari was somewhat grateful.

Then Hari saw the dog. It wasn’t possible – Dumbledore had told her it had been put down, but she was certain she could see it, across the grounds, chasing after something and heading towards the whomping willow.

Hari chased without thought, Hermione and Ron called after, but she didn’t listen. She had to find that dog.

She scrambled through the roots and undergrowth after the sound of barking and the frantic squeaking of a rat.

She didn’t hesitate when she found herself in the shrieking shack, following the sound of animals fight, Hari ran up a flight of stairs to find Scabbers leaping towards her, without thought she scooped down and grabbed him. She looked up to see the yellow eyes once more.

“Hello.” She whispered to the dog, ignoring Scabbers’s struggles against her grip. “This- this is my friends rat, please don’t hurt him.” The dog continued to stare at her, then at the rat trying desperately to bite at Hari’s fingers.

Then there was no longer a dog.

There was only Sirius Black, Hari let out a panicked gasp as the man towered over her. No that wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be.

Remus finished writing up his lesson plans for the next day for whoever was covering his classes tomorrow, placing his notes in his draw along with his apologies and a box of chocolates from honeydukes. An attempt at soothing his guilt for his many absences. He packed up his desk and slung his satchel across his shoulder, pulling out the map one last time before meeting Regulus for his potion before the moon rose. Opening up the old parchment, he laid it down and whispered the opening phrase, he scanned the map and saw Harriet with her friends and Hagrid. It didn’t surprise him, he knew Buckbeak was set for execution today.

He scanned the rest of the school grounds, searching for any sign of his former school mates, with no sign of either of them, he began to whisper the closing phrase as Hari made her way back to the castle.

Then he saw them.

Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.

Remus's heart lurched into his throat, chocking the air out of him. They were running towards the Willow. In slow motion he watched the names run across the map, and right past Harriet’s.

Please don’t have seen them, please don’t have seen them.

But of course Harriet Potter saw them, of course she did.

Remus leapt to action, using the floo, he ran into Regulus’s office.

“They’re here!” He shouted, running to the potion master’s desk, and downing his potion. Regulus was stood wand drawn.

“Where?”

They both ran as fast they could to the willow, Remus spared a glance to the map. Hari, Sirius and Peter were all vanished from it. They had left school grounds. Hermione and Ron’s names both sat still by the tree.

It took far too long for them to arrive, finding Ronald Weasley laid unconscious by the momentarily docile tree, with Hermione Granger looking bruised and battered by his side.

“What happened?” Regulus snapped quickly as they both arrived, breathless.

“I don’t know! Hari followed Scabbers and this dog… Ron’s hurt! I don’t know what’s going on.” Hermione’s eyes were swollen with tears.

“You stay with the boy, the path leads to the shrieking shack, I’ll go ahead.” Remus stammered, casting at the tree to freeze it, readying himself to walk through a tunnel he hadn’t needed to visit since he was eighteen years old.

“Remus.” Regulus grasped his attention., Remus met the other man’s solid gaze for a moment. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Remus might have laughed, of course he would. Remus was rarely ever accused of being a fool, but when he was, it was always when Sirius Black was involved. Instead he gave a curt nod and dashed away, down the tunnel without a moments hesitation.

How could she be so stupid, he must have known, known about the dog and this was just a trap, a trap to get her alone and now he was going to kill her. She dropped Scabber’s and made to run down the stairs away, back to safety, but she was stopped by a strong hand on her should that shoved her to the side.

“NO!” The man shouted.

Hari caught herself on the stairs and watched in horror as Sirius Black ignored her and ran after Scabbers.

But Scabbers nor Sirius Black got far, because at the bottom of the stairs stood Lupin, holding the rat by its tail and his wand pointed at the other man.

“Remus.” Hari heard a whisper, the two men stood staring at each other for what felt a long time, before Lupin pulled Sirius Black into a tight embrace.

Hari drew her wand, it seemed the professor hadn’t released she was there until then. He let the other man go, Scabbers still tight in his grasp, he cast a quick charm and the rat was quickly encaged.

“Hari, I know this must be very confusing for you, but please let me explain.” Lupin lowered his wand and went to take a step closer, but Hari raised her wand higher, backing herself up the stairs.

“He killed them.” Hari hated how strangled her voice came out. “My parents, your friends.”

She pointed her wand at Black, who had said nothing yet, only watched Hari with an almost sad curiosity.

“No, Hari.” Lupin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He didn’t.” He turned to Lupin then, his eyes glassy.

“Sirius was framed, by another friend, the one who you saw on the map.” Lupin’s eyes pleaded for Hari to listen, to understand. “Your father, Sirius and Peter, they were all animagi – your father a stag, Sirius a dog, and Peter-“

“A rat.” Hari gasped, her eyes fell to the cage Lupin held tight in his grasp, her grasp on her wand loosened. “Prove it.”

“Oh, we can prove it alright, you know the spell Moony?” Sirius Black’s face contorted as he ripped the rat from its cage and held it to the wall by its neck.

Hari couldn’t help but flinch at Scabbers’s squeals of pain, and then Lupin cast a spell, and just as with the black dog, the rat disappeared and instead appeared a man.

Peter Pettigrew.

Hari felt her stomach turn and her skin crawl at the sound of the man’s voice, as he begged for mercy from Moony and Padfoot.

Wormtail turned to Hari when he met no mercy in their eyes.

“Harriet, please. I knew you when you were a baby. Your dad, me and him were friends.” He begged, his eyes desperate, Hari curled her lip at him.

“Do not speak to her!” Sirius screamed at him. “Not after all this! Not after what you’ve done!” He spat in the man’s cowering face, he readied his wand and Hari disarmed him. He turned in shock to were Hari stood, both hands shaking.

“If you kill him, you go back to prison.” Hari tried to keep the shake from her voice. “We should take him to the castle, Minister Fudge is still here.”

The two agreed, but they only made it as far as the whomping willow, where Hermione sat with an injured Ron and a furious Professor Black.

Sirius froze when he saw their potions professor. Professor Black rose to his feet, nodding to the man who looked so much like him.

“Brother.” He said with a short nod, then turned to the smaller man held tight between. “Rat.” He sneered.

Peter seemed to quiver under the potion master’s gaze, cringing into Remus, as if he would protect him.

“Hari? What’s going on?” Hermione asked, eyeing Sirius warily, her hand itching towards her wand.

“It’s okay, Sirius isn’t going to hurt us.” Hari assured her friend, taking a step away from the former maurauders to Hermione and the injured Ron. “What happened here?”

“Tree got me again.” Ron groaned, his face pale as he grasped at his leg. “Where’s Scabbers?”

Hari glanced at Pettigrew, then back at Ron. “Uh, I’ll explain later mate, it’s a bit complicated.”

Ron just grunted, then allowed Hermione and Hari to pull him up onto his good foot, gasping at the pain as he leant on their shoulders.

“You’re not gonna kill us, are you?” Ron turned to Sirius, grimacing a little. Sirius let out a surprised laugh.

“No, promise.” He replied easily, “Sorry for stealing your wand, desperate times.” He shrugged, offering the stolen wand back to the boy. Ron hesitated before accepting it.

“Let’s get back to the castle, I think we’ll need your help explaining all of this to Dumbledore and Minister Fudge.” Remus prompted, tugging Peter by the bicep, Sirius turned to the taller man and nodded silently, moving to follow.

They all stopped in their tracks when a scream of agony tore through Professor Lupin.

“Remus!” Sirius called, grasping at the crumbling man, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, as if he might be able to hold the man together.

“We need to run!” Hermione shouted, desperately pulling Ron and Hari along. “He’s a werewolf!”

“Oh no, Moony.” A cruel hiss came from Pettigrew, who was backing away from the group. “Did your potion not work? How unfortunate for you.” Hari would only watch as the man disappeared and Scabbers – Wormtail – emerged, leaping through the grass and escaping before anyone could think to act.

“f*ck.” Professor Black cursed, throwing himself in front of his young students, “Go now!” He shouted at them, “Sirius, shift now!” He turned to his brother.

Sirius quickly acted, bursting forward as the black dog, desperately trying to fight off the wolf that had now fully burst from Professor Lupin’s skin.

It didn’t do any good.

That night Hari cast her first full Patronus, she sent the dog out across the lake as she stood over Sirius’s body, and she saved him this time. But it wasn’t enough.

Ron’s leg was broken, Hari sat by his bed as he and Hermione explained how they’d tried to follow her but the whomping willow had attacked Ron. Black had found them like that just as Hari had reappeared, she explained her side of what happened before then.

Pettigrew had escaped in the commotion and Lupin was still missing, and Sirius sat in a tower somewhere, waiting for the dementors kiss.

“But that’s not fair.” Hermione cried, once Hari had explained it all. “We need to do something; we just need more time.” She pulled at her ever-growing cloud of hair in frustration, then she paused.

“Time.” She whispered again.

“What’s she on about?” Ron asked Hari, who only shrugged her shoulders.

Hari had lived a strange life in her short fourteen years, but that day was by far the strangest, and not just because she lived through it bloody twice.

Rescuing Buckbeak had been the easy part, the waiting however, was excruciating. They sat in the quiet of the forbidden forest, throwing rabbits to an impatient hippogriff, hiding from the dementors that circled closer.

“He said I could live with him.” Hari said into the quiet.

“Hm?” Hermione lifted her chin from her palm. “Who, Sirius?”

Hari nodded.

“He said once he’s free that I can go to him, I wouldn’t have to go back to the Dursleys.” Hari pet Buckbeak’s soft feathers as she stared into the middle-distance. “He was where I was supposed to go.”

“Oh Hari.” Hermione chocked, “I know... I know it’s hard, but even though that can’t happen now, you won’t be alone. You can come with me for the summer, my parents won’t mind. You could meet my friends from primary school, we can have a lovely boring muggle time.” Hari tried to smile at her friend, it did sound nice, boring and muggle sounded nice. But as much as she loved Hermione, it wouldn’t be what Hari so desperately wanted. Hari more than anything wanted home, a home that was hers, where she could keep her things, a place to miss whilst she was at Hogwarts. For a brief moment she had imagined it, before everything went wrong again.

Less than 24 hours ago, Hari had hated Sirius Black, and now hugging him goodbye, Hari found she couldn’t bear to let him go.

“I know, pup.” He kissed the top her head, “But it’s not over, I’ll write, we’ll see each other again.” Hari nodded through her tears and let him go, Hermione held her hand as they watched both the escapees fly into the night.

“That’s pretty f*cked up, Potter.” Malfoy aloud into the bathroom, they were sat in their usual spot, just out of sight of the door, they’d have enough time to throw the cloak over them both if they were caught.

Hari couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst past her lips, at Dulcinea’s reaction. She sat in horrified silence as Hari had told her what had happened, it had been the first thing she’d said in twenty minutes.

“Really, do you think you’re capable of not having a near death experience every bloody year?”

“I don’t know, I’m feeling pretty good about next year.”

Dulcinea snorted. Then they were quiet again.

“I’m sorry about your godfather, I know you don’t want to go back to them.”

“I’m sorry you have to back to your father.”

“That’s us, just a couple of sorry buggers.” Dulcinea said. “Can I write to you this summer?”

“If I’m allowed to.” Hari answered, Lupin had told her he’d spoken to Dumbledore about the upcoming summer, but he only said they were still working out the details, nothing more. Hari and Hermione and asked McGonagall to discuss Hari staying with friend for the summer with the headmaster, he’d only said that it was the Dursley’s decision, not his.

That was as good as no.

“Or maybe I could visit.” Malfoy posited; Hari turned to stare at the other girl in shock. She imagined the perfect Dulcinea Malfoy, Queen of Slytherin house, walking into Privet Drive in her long, elegant robes. It was impossible, but Hari still grinned at the image. Malfoy seemed to realise and flushed slightly. “I mean, Surrey isn’t far from Salisbury, is it? I could take a muggle equivalent to a train, whatever that is.”

Hari’s grin split into a laugh.

“A train.” She gasped. “It’s just a train.”

“Yes, well.” Malfoy seemed to only get redder. “Why are you laughing?”

Hari’s giggles seemed uncontainable as she grabbed at her sides in an attempt to hold herself together.

“Oh, never mind.” Malfoy huffed and went to stand, but Hari recovered momentarily to grasp Malfoy’s wrist.

“No don’t go.” Hari begged. “I just… you would really do that? Get a train to come see me?”

Dulcinea seemed to realise the weight of the question and scoffed.

“It’s not that big a deal, Potter. Muggles get trains all the time, I’m sure it’s rather simple.” She shrugged, still blushing, Hari didn’t let her go.

“Thank you.” She said genuinely. Malfoy scoffed.

“Don’t get soft on me, Potter.”

Too late.

Hari barged into Lupin’s office without knocking, her breath coming heavy, she’d ran all the way from Hagrid’s as soon as he’d told her.

To her horror, Lupin was packing up his desk, he didn’t look surprised to see her.

“You’re leaving?” Hari hated how whiny she sounded.

“I’m afraid so.” Lupin said.

“But you promised.” Hari cried. “You promised I wouldn’t go back! If you’re gone then- then” Hari began to lose control of her breath, her hands shaking.

“Hey, hey.” Lupin soothed, coming around the desk to guide Hari to chair by her shoulders. “Look at me, pup.” Hari met his eyes but could barely see them through her tears. “I promised you I’d keep you safe, I won’t break that promise.” Hari shook her head, but Lupin held her face still. “I won’t.”

Sirius didn’t think about where he was going. He simply went.

He found himself stood outside the old cottage he hadn’t seen since he was twenty. The last time he’d been there, he’d been storming out, his bag slung of his shoulder, hoping against hope that he would be followed. He’d stood just past the wards, outside the wrought iron gate, glancing back just once at the old dark wooden door, the old wooden shingles, the roof the bowed slightly in the middle after so many years.

But Sirius hadn’t been chased, no one grabbed him and begged him to stay, no one kissed him in the rain and promised him everything would be fine, that they’d work through it together. Instead, he’d apparated away, he only saw Remus once more after that, at Marlene and Dorcas’s funeral.

He’d give anything to go back to that day, to find himself back as the young arrogant idiot he’d been. To be able to crawl back inside and take back all the cruel things he’d said. To be able to tell the young, prideful and distant Remus that he was sorry, that he loved him, that he trusted him, that’d they get through it together.

Instead, he stood there, at the end of that cobblestone path, his fingers grasping the cold iron gate, feeling ancient. Thirty-one had never felt so old, he didn’t feel any less arrogant, no wiser, just tired, and so very alone.

And then the door swung open and Sirius’s chest tightened. But it wasn’t Remus, of course it wasn’t. Instead, Mary McDonald stepped forward. She gasped, hand flying to her mouth as she took Sirius in, he couldn’t imagine how he looked to her then.

“It’s you.” She gasped out, stumbling forward. “You’re here.”

“Mary.” Sirius let out her name like a sigh, oh how lovely it was to see her. Mary McDonald, his closet friend outside of his marauders, the first and last girl he’d ever kissed, before he’d realised how much he preferred to kiss boys, or rather, one boy in particular. Another face he’d not seen since they lost Marlene and Dorcas. “I’m- I’m not here to hurt you – I- it was all a mistake-“ But before he could get the words out, he was nearly falling backwards with the impact of her body into his, flinging her arms around his neck as she pulled him into her tight. He returned the embrace with earnest. The second time he’d been held in thirteen years. She was so warm and soft and safe. He gasped out a sob into her dense dark curls.

“Oh Sirius, I’m so happy to see you.”

They stood in the front garden for what could have been hours, just holding each other so desperately, Sirius was sure he smelt terrible, and that his hair was greasy and unpleasant to touch, but he didn’t care. He would have happily stood there for days, being held by one of his favourite people in the world.

Unfortunately, the embrace had to come to an end, but Mary held on to his hand, guiding him into the house and setting him down on a familiar couch. Moments later a cup of tea was pushed into his grasp and a bowl of stew and dumplings placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“I don’t know how long that was frozen.” Mary said, “But it should be good.” She didn’t sound entirely sure, but Sirius didn’t much care. He put his tea down and grabbed the spoon, shovelling the hot food into his mouth, it burned his tongue on its way down, but it was surely the best thing he’d ever eaten. Remus’s beef stew, it was so rare that he had cooked, but when he did it was either stew of spaghetti bolognaise. The bolognaise was always far too boozy, the onions chopped so chunky, but his stew was always Sirius’s favourite meal. A recipe taught to him by Hope that always felt like home to Sirius.

“Have you heard from Remus?” Sirius asked once he’d polished both the bowl and his spoon clean. He placed them both down on the table, neatly next to each other, avoiding Mary’s gaze as he glanced around the sitting room, it seemed so hollow in the other man’s absence.

“He called a couple hours ago, he should be here soon, actually.” Mary glanced to an empty spot on the wall, where the wallpaper was slightly paler. A clock had been there once, Sirius remembered. “I got here a little earlier, the boilers on, there should be enough hot water for you to have a bath.”

Sirius nodded and pushed himself off the sofa, a bath sounded like a f*cking dream. Sirius took his time, lathering his hair and producing as many bubbles as he could, letting himself feel clean in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He breathed in the smell of Remus’s soap, the same body wash he’d used since fifth year, and just like in fifth year, Remus didn’t use conditioner, much to Sirius’s disappointment. There was however, a 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, which was somewhat of an improvement he supposed.

Just as Sirius was finishing up, he heard the crack of apparation, then the sound of the front door opening and closing. He quickly jumped out of the bath and grabbed a towel, suddenly feeling like an intruder, which he was. This wasn’t his home anymore, it never really was, it wasn’t his place to use Remus’s soap and towels. He dried himself guiltily, only then realising that he didn’t have any clean clothes.

He glared at the rags he’d been wearing before, he was loathe to put them on again, but what other option did he have?

A knock on the door made him jump.

“Sirius?” It was Remus’s voice. “I’ve left some clothes just outside the door for you.”

Remus would give him clothes, sweet kind Remus would let Sirius wear his clothes. He waited a few minutes, making sure that Remus was away from the bathroom door and down the hall, before grabbing the pile of clothes left for him.

A soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of joggers that were far to long on his legs, he rolled up the cuffs and pulled on the thick woollen socks that had been left for him. Bracing himself before stepping back out of the safety of the bathroom.

He found Remus sat on the sofa where Sirius had been earlier, Mary on an armchair across from him, they both looked up when he entered the sitting room.

“Well, I’ll leave you both to it, my boys will be back from school by now.” Mary offered cheerily, her tone a stark contrast to the tear stains in the corners of her eyes, and the anxious look in her gaze as she turned to Remus. He nodded with a smile.

“See you later, Mary.” He said, with a smile he intended to reassure, satisfied, Mary turned and wrapped Sirius in a hug.

“I’m so glad to have you back.” She whispered, Sirius closed his eyes and let her embrace him.

“Glad to be back.” He said, meaning it. Then Mary was gone, leaving the two men in their heavy silence.

“Tea?”

“fa*g?”

They spoke simultaneously. They both smiled sheepishly.

“You get us a brew, I’ll roll.” He nodded towards the kitchen, gesturing for Sirius to go first.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

Chapter 8: Honey and the Moon

Chapter Text

Remus’s cottage hadn’t changed, and for that Sirius was grateful. Looking through the cupboards and flipping on the kettle, he could almost pretend that no time had passed at all. The counters were still an old stained lyonium, the gas stove still needed to be blown on to get the fire to catch, even the mugs were the same, although they had far more chips than he remembered.

As the water boiled, Sirius turned to watch Remus’s hands as he rolled, he’d always loved watching those hands, they were different now. The skin older and more calloused, there was a new scar across his left thumb, and his index and middle finger on his right were stained yellow with nicotine. But they were still Remus’s, long and thin, sure and steady. Sirius had missed those hands, they way they had been stained by ink, the way they swept through his hair when he was stressed, how they used to hold Sirius face just so.

The kettle whistled, jumping Sirius out of his thoughts, he turned and poured the water over the Yorkshire tea bags. He sat at the table opposite Remus, placing the tea in front of them. He noticed Remus smile ever so slightly at his cup, before sliding one finished cigarette to Sirius.

He took it gratefully then slipped it between his lips.

“Lighter?” Sirius asked, to which Remus raised his brow then frowned, before leaning forward and clicking his fingers, using that same trick from fifth year. When he’d showed it off at a party for the first time, it was the moment that Sirius had realised how badly he wanted to kiss his best friend. “Cheers.” He thanked him before looking away and back down at his mug.

Remus hummed before lighting his own then taking a sip of his tea. He grimaced.

“Is it not good?” Sirius asked, he’d made it just as Remus had liked, extra strong, two sugars, a dash of milk.

“It’s fine.” Remus mumbled, “Just don’t take sugar anymore.”

Sirius frowned; he didn’t like that.

“Sirius, it’s fine. Don’t look so mad about it.” Remus said with a sigh, “I’m surprised you remembered how I take it all.”

“Of course I do.” Sirius groused quietly. Remus said nothing, just taking another slurp, this time doing a better show of pretending to enjoy it. Sirius continued to sulk.

His eyes wondered over the familiar room, its dusty ceiling beams and hideously yellow walls, his gaze fell to the window, it was cracked in the top right corner last time he was here, now it looked as thought the whole thing had been replaced. The wooden frame no longer chipping white paint, it looked like it was plastic now, double glazed. Wouldn’t it get a bit warm in there now? Trapping all the heat in, it would make the winter mornings easier to stand, he supposed. There was something else different about the window, he couldn’t place his finger on it, like there was something missing…

“You got rid of the curtains.” Sirius said out loud when he realised, he didn’t intend to sound so offended, but his tone dripped with indignation.

Remus looked up with a confused look twitching his brow, then glanced at the kitchen window. There used to be a set of green curtains, as old as the house itself, they were burnt on one side and stained with smoke and grease.

“They were hideous, and a fire hazard.” Remus said with a shrug, as if it didn’t matter.

“When?” Sirius turned back to Remus, frowning.

“When what?” Remus asked, “When did I get rid of them? f*ck, I don’t know, a while ago now. They’re just curtains, Sirius.”

Sirius didn’t like that at all.

“What else has changed?” He demanded. Remus sighed.

“A lot, Sirius. It’s been over a decade, you couldn’t have expected the world to just stop and wait for you.” Remus was scowling now, putting out the rest of his cigarette into a glass ash tray that Sirius didn’t recognise. It only served to sour his mood further.

“I’m not saying I did…” He said, petulant.

“No, you just expected me to not make any changes to my own house in thirteen years, a house you never even liked.” Remus huffed.

“I never said I didn’t like it.” Sirius argued.

“You called it a sh*thole.” Remus met his gaze then, looking cold and angry.

“Yes well, it is a bit.” Sirius tried to lighten the mood. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“Whatever, Sirius.” Remus sighed, that wasn’t the reaction Sirius had wanted. He wanted them to keep going, for the arguing to turn teasing to turn to laughing and joking, that’s how it used to go, another change he hated.

“You’ve changed as well.” Sirius said, pushing for a reaction now.

“Of course I’ve f*cking changed.” Remus shouted, glaring. “I had to, after the last- Lily and James died. And Peter- you-“ He cut himself off, pushing away from the table, taking his undrunk tea with him to drop it in the sink. He stood, glaring out the window, his hands grasping the kitchen counter. “And I hated those f*cking curtains.”

Sirius pulled his mug of tea closer, cupping his hands around its warmth, allowing himself to be comforted by it.

“You can stay here, I can sort mum’s old room for you.” Remus said after a long quiet. “Until we sort something out.”

Then the conversation ended, and Sirius was left on his own in the kitchen.

The next few days passed in brief empty conversations consisting almost entirely of the words, ‘tea’ or ‘fa*g’ asked quietly and answered only in nods or hums of agreement. Sirius made an effort to make his existence as small as possible, spending nearly all his time as Padfoot. Remus seemed less anxious when Sirius was in his dog form, when he was curled up half-asleep on the sofa, the other man would sometimes even sit next to him. He wouldn’t pet him like he used to, or tuck he feet under him to keep warm, but they’d sit in a silence that was almost comfortable.

Mary came over often, bringing left overs but never staying for long, with work and her own family she didn’t have time to sit through their awkward silences.

After four days, Sirius made dinner for them both – really he just reheated a pasta bake Mary had left for them – a ploy to enforce a conversation between them both.

They ate quietly, both unwilling to start.

“Regulus wrote me.” Sirius said after a long quiet. Remus perked up.

“Really?” He asked, meeting his gaze briefly.

“Yeah, he mentioned you. You guys have become close?” Sirius asked, avoiding looking directly at him.

Remus snorted.

“Hardly, he’s not the most... personable, we’d discussed you a bit, but mostly we were working on a plan for what to do about Hari.” Remus answered, poking at his pasta shells, they made a squelching sound as he stabbed it and tomato sauce spilled out.

“A plan for Hari?” Sirius pushed.

“Yeah, well obviously she can’t stay with the Dursleys, Mary doesn’t have the space, and you’re a fugitive so not exactly a suitable option. Apparently, the Granger’s offered to take her, for the summer at least, but Dumbledore is being… uncooperative.” Remus frowned as he chewed, Sirius just stared.

“You…” Sirius shook his head. “I’m surprised you or Reg care.”

Remus narrowed his gaze.

“Of course I f*cking care. It’s Hari.” He said, as if that explained anything.

“I know, but it’s not like you’re her godfather, you were never… you don’t like kids.” Sirius avoided his gaze. “It’s not like you’ve done anything for her before now…”

Remus slammed his fork down, leaning back into his chair.

“Here we f*cking go. I knew. I knew you’d have something to say.” Remus scoffed, poking the inside of cheek with his tongue.

“She went to the Dursleys!” Sirius shouted, dropping his own fork, glaring at the other man. “You just let them take her.”

“Don’t. Don’t you f*cking dare.” Remus hissed. “I didn’t know where she was, no one would tell me and Mary anything. It was weeks before we even managed to find out if she was alive.”

“That can’t be true.” Sirius shook his head. “You were part of the order-“

Remus pushed out a bitter laugh.

“Mary is muggleborn, I’m a werewolf. And we were both close to you, a convicted f*cking ‘death eater’. We weren’t important or trustworthy enough.” Remus snapped, then shook his head. “Dumbledore knew what we’d do if we knew Hari had gone to them, he lied to us so we wouldn’t do anything ‘regrettable’.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t believe they’d think you’d want to hurt her.”

Remus glared at him.

“Really?” He asked, annoyed. Sirius flushed.

“That’s different.” He defended weakly.

“Give me a f*cking break, Sirius.” Remus said, “They didn’t tell me where Hari was, for the exact same reason that you didn’t tell me Peter was the secret keeper. And look where that f*cking got you!”

“What was I supposed to believe! You were gone all the time, you were so secretive…”

“We all were! We were in a f*cking war. Did you ever suspect anyone else? Did you ever think James was the traitor?”

“James would never do that!”

“Neither would I! But you believed it anyway. You always loved James better, and I accepted it, I forgave you for that. But I am tired of you pretending you don’t.” Remus huffed out a heavy breath, running a hand over his flushed face, he looked tired. “You never fully saw me, Sirius. Not all of me.”

“That wasn’t my fault, you always kept secrets, always hid it all away.”

“And after everything, can’t you see why? I started to show you, to let you see what the werewolves- what being one was doing to me – and you flinched. You stopped loving me. I saw it, before it ended. I saw it and I accepted it, I knew it would come and you would leave me. And I hated you for that, and I only hate you more for it now, because when you thought I was betraying you, you stopped loving me. But when I thought you had taken them from me, from Hari… I-“ Remus shook his head, his hands wringing tight, flinching as thought the words he spat were hurting him as they left his mouth. He finally drew his gaze up to meet Sirius’s, gold meeting silver. “I wasn’t able to.” He confessed, a whisper. “I still loved you. I hated you, I hated you so much but I never, never, stopped loving you. And I can’t tell if I’m angrier at myself or you for that.”

“I didn’t stop.” Sirius’s reply was instantaneous, not an ounce of hesitation, surprising both men.

“What.” Remus gasped, his voice rough and low.

“I didn’t stop loving you. I might have thought I had, might have tried to but I- I never stopped.” Sirius whispered, unable to tear his eyes away, stuck in the honey of Remus’s irises.

“I wish you’d just- I wish you’d just said something. Anything.” Remus gasped, his throat tight.

“I know.” Sirius soothed, oh how he knew.

“We could have – we could have talked about it, argued, fought, f*cking killed each other but at least… at least then we’d have known.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think we can fix this. I don’t think this can be fixed.” Remus sighed, his eyes were red and watering, and Sirius felt his heart do something he thought it incapable of, it broke. He had thought it couldn’t do that anymore, that it was already ruined beyond any hope of repair. But here Remus was, proving him a fool. “But I- I’ve missed you so f*cking much Sirius, and I’m so tired of it.” Oh and another old feeling, one forgotten for so long. Hope.

“Moony.” Sirius let out the word with a shaky breath.

And that’s all it took. Just that one little word falling from Sirius’s lips, and Remus felt thirteen years of rage and hurt crumble, leaving only a deep and unwavering need. He needed Sirius, he always had, from that first day on the train to Remus’s dying breath, he would need Sirius Black.

Fortunately for him, Sirius Black needed Remus Lupin just as desperately.

They moved then, together, perfectly in sync, like solar bodies they came together. Dinner left carelessly behind them, as they moved around the table to meet. Falling into tugs of hands in hair and on hips, of lips colliding into frantic kisses, heavy breaths shuddering into each others mouths.

“Moony.” Sirius gasped against Remus’s throat, and he shook with the impact. “My Moony.” Remus sobbed into his hair, his lovely soft hair, it smelled just the same; cigarettes and leather and something so distinctly Sirius. He pulled him closer, their bodies so tight together, yet it wasn’t enough, Remus wanted to melt into his flesh, to bury himself into Sirius’s ribcage and nest there, never to resurface again.

“Sirius.” He moaned it like a song, a psalm that he’d not known for so long, but remembered every note.

Tangled in sheets and covered in sweat they clung to each other after, unwilling to part even as their skin became sensitive and touching felt like far too much. They would bare it, the pain they inflicted on each other felt divine, when compared to the gaping wound that was their separation.

Sirius’s face was buried into the crook of Remus’s neck, lips pressed against hot skin, the taller man pulled him closer, an arm held tight around his waist. He hated how he could feel his ribs so obviously, Sirius had always been slender, but now he felt fragile, like he could snap if held too tight.

“The food wasn’t fantastic in prison, if you could believe it.” Sirius’s tone sounded strained, as if embarrassed.

“We’ll get you fattened up, with all the pasta Mary’s been bringing over.” Remus said with a kiss to his head.

“I still can’t wrap my head around Mary having kids, being all… housewifey and stuff.” Sirius said.

“She’s hardly a housewife, she’s a social worker, works with vulnerable muggle kids, help’s keep them safe.” Remus said.

“That’s really cool.” Sirius said, propping himself onto his elbow, resting his chin in his hand.

“Yeah, it is.” Remus answered, slowly he brushed Sirius’s hair back behind his ear.

“So, what have you been up to?” Sirius asked, leaning into the touch. Remus let out a heavy sigh, he rolled away from the other man and grabbed a cigarette, pressed it to his lips and lit it, he took a slow heavy drag before passing to Sirius.

“Got my teaching qualifications, muggle ones. But with being sick so often, mostly been doing odd bits you know, exam marking, some cleaning jobs you know… just keeping busy.” Remus shrugged, Sirius blew out a breath of smoke, frowning as he pressed the fa*g back to Remus’s lips. “Don’t.” Remus said, flicking the creasing frown between Sirius’s brow.

“Ow.” He hissed, touching the sore spot. “What was that for?”

“You’re judging me.” Remus chastised.

“Am not.” Sirius huffed defensively.

“No?” Remus challenged, scooting back on the bed so he was sat up. “So you have nothing to say about my CV?” Sirius pushed himself up off his lover’s chest, so he was sat on his knees, his arse still sore, contrary to popular belief, prison had not allowed for much sexual activity. But Remus had been patient, unlike Sirius who had cursed in frustration at his body, unable to act on what his mind wanted. They had time, Remus had assured him, a gentle whisper in his ear that had sent shivers upon shivers down Sirius’s curving spine.

“No it’s just…” Sirius let his sentence drift off.

“Just?” Remus prompted with a scowl.

“You could do so much better, you’re the smartest bloke I’ve ever met, wicked with magic. You should be doing something awesome and amazing, like… teaching – like full time – or a curse breaker, sh*t I don’t know.” Sirius threw his arms up in exasperation, letting them drop onto his naked lap, he began picking at the cuticle on his thumb.

“Yeah well, doesn’t matter really does it, I’m on the registry so no wizards will hire me. And muggles will eventually sack you too if you’re off sick every month. I make do.” Remus’s tone was tight.

Sirius continued to scratch at the lose skin over his nail, frowning. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. How did this happen? Dumbledore had protected Remus when they left Hogwarts, he’d promised him that he wouldn’t have to sign onto to that stupid ministry werewolf registry. They would fight in the war then, when it was over, Remus would get his teaching qualifications, then get a job at Hogwarts. Apprentice under Flitwick, or take over as the care of magical creatures professor, that’s how it was supposed to be.

Remus was the smartest of them all, he’d been prefect, he’d gotten all O’s and tutored the younger years. He’d saved up to buy the house off of Hope, so she could afford the care home fees, Remus was responsible, and he’d worked so f*cking had, for as long as Sirius had known him.

Imagining Remus’s life, the life he was supposed to be living with him, whilst he was in Azkaban, it had been somewhat of a comfort to Sirius. To picture how well Remus was doing without him, to know that even if everything was lost, and ruined, and broken, that at least Sirius could be certain that Remus would be better off with Sirius locked away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I thought about you, on the full, were you – did you have anyone?” Sirius lifted his gaze to look at Remus, who shrugged.

“I was- Mum moved back in with me, for a while.” He offered, he didn’t say anymore, making Sirius’s stomach churn.

“sh*t, I hadn’t asked, how is Hope?” He knew the answer, but it still hit like a bullet to hear it.

“She died. Two years ago. Mary came to the funeral with me.”

“I’m sorry Remus.”

Remus lowered his gaze to Sirius’s fidgeting hands, he put out the cigarette on the ash tray on the bedside table, and took his bony fingers into his own. Sirius looked up to meet his gaze, he looked so tired, and so very sad.

“Call me- please call me Moony again, please.” Remus begged softly, a half smile on his lips.

“Moony.“ Sirius gasped, moving forward to cup his stubbly cheek, he pressed a soft kiss his to his temple. “My lovely, lovely Moony.”

They didn’t talk again for a while.

Remus couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well. He woke up late in the morning, laid flat on his back, he stretched his long body, his back gave a satisfying crack as it lifted off the old mattress. A grumble at his side grabbed his attention, and Remus turned to see Sirius curled up against him, Remus pulled him closer, and the sleeping man buried his face into his chest, sighing and content.

Remus dipped his head to press a kiss into his hair.

“Tea or coffee?” He whispered. There was another grumble and a sigh that sounded like ‘coffee’. Remus kissed him again before rolling out of bed.

The kettle settled on the gas stove, Remus began rolling. He’d need to make a trip to the shops soon, he was going to run out of baccy soon at the rate he and Sirius were going. The whistle of boiled water drew him back to the stove, he pulled his favourite mug from the cupboards, and then searched under the sink for the old soup mug Sirius liked to use. Remus hadn’t the heart to throw it away, nor could he bare to see it, so under the sink it went. He pulled it out and washed off the dust under the tap, then sat it down next to his own, where it belonged.

Sirius came into the kitchen, arms stretching up in the air, pulling Remus’s shirt up to reveal his boxers underneath, as Remus rifled through the fridge in search of something for breakfast.

“Do we have bacon?” Sirius asked, slotting next to him, hip resting on the counter as he grabbed his mug. Remus smiled like an idiot at the casual use of ‘we’.

“We have sliced ham, bread and… one egg.” Remus announced, leaning on the fridge door to smile at the other man. “but…oh!” Remus suddenly remembered something, closing the fridge and practically skipping out the backdoor to the garden. Sirius just watched, bemused, when Remus came back in with a victorious grin and a single beef tomato in his grasp. “Mary watered the garden while I was away, breakfast is served.”

As they finished up their breakfast of ham, toast and tomato scrambled egg, the fireplace rang with a floo call for the first time in years.

“Mary?” Sirius asked, Remus shook his head.

“She’d use the phone.” He said, standing up to head into the living room.

“Lupin?” A now familiar voice called through the fire.

“Hey Reggie.” Remus called back.

“Don’t be annoying, Lupin.” Regulus sighed. “Is my brother there?”

Remus turned back to the kitchen, Sirius stood leaning in the door frame, he frowned but nodded.

“Yeah, he’s here.” Remus turned back to the flame.

“Good, McDonald and I will be there in an hour, make sure you are both fully clothed please.”

“Since when do you speak to Mary?” Sirius demanded, stepping forward angrily.

“Ah, Sirius. So lovely to hear your voice, dear brother.” Regulus answered, Remus practically could hear him rolling his eyes. “McDonald, Remus and I have been in correspondence regarding the custody of Harriet Potter. As I’m sure you’ve been informed.”

Sirius’s head snapped to Remus, looking unreasonably betrayed.

“And why are you involved with all this?” Sirius turned back to the call.

“Don’t be childish, Sirius. And don’t act like you know me, a lot has changed since you went away.” Regulus scolded, his voice distant and cold. “I’ll see you both in an hour, brother, Remus.” Then he was gone.

Sirius stood, scowling at the empty fire place, Remus shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly. He’d never been good at this with Sirius, the family stuff. It had been a constant cause of pain and stress for the Black heir, and not something he’d ever understood. The love and hate shared in equal measure towards his brother, Remus didn’t get it, they were both so similar, both victims of their parents. Yet they were both so angry with each other, maybe it’s because he never had siblings. But James seemed to have always understood, he who Sirius always turned to after a letter from his mother, or an argument with Regulus in the halls between classes.

But James was gone, and Remus felt decidedly inadequate when compared to the space the other man had left.

“I don’t trust him.” Sirius said eventually, still staring at the same spot, as if Regulus may appear.

Remus sighed.

“I know.”

He turned to him then, frowning.

“You do though, don’t you.” He accused. Remus clutched at the hair at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t say I trust him… but I do think he’s on our side, with this at least.” Remus could see how disappointed Sirius was with his answer.

“He’s a death eater.” Sirius reminded him. “He took the mark.”

“He was sixteen.” Remus replied with a weak shrug. “He was on our side, in the end, I think he’s changed.”

“You never knew him!” Sirius was shouting now. “What does Dumbledore think?”

Remus scoffed.

“Who gives a f*ck what Dumbledore thinks? He still thinks Hari should stay with the Dursleys!” Remus shouted back, pacing now.

“That can’t be right.” Sirius shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, we should just meet with him, explain it to him.”

“You think I didn’t already? As soon as I knew what happened over the summer, I spoke with him, he tried to manipulate me into thinking Hari was lying to me, Sirius. And the things Regulus has told me… I don’t trust Dumbledore, not when it comes to Hari.”

“What if Regulus is manipulating you?” Sirius argued. “Manipulating Hari?”

“You don’t believe that.” Remus snapped back.

“Why do you believe him? Why do you trust Regulus, Remus? How could you? How is it that you trusted him with Hari, whilst still believing me to be a traitor?” Sirius demanded, his eyes wild and frantic now. “I thought… I assumed it was because of my family, that you believed all the lies about me because I’m a Black. But if you trusted Regulus then… then what was it? How could you have left me there for over a decade?” Sirius cried out, and Remus fell into silence.

A terrible, heart-breaking and guilt-ridden silence.

“Because it never felt real.” Remus said, realising how true the words were as he said them out loud for the first time. “I never- You were so- you were so perfect. So beautiful and bright and I loved you so much and – and you loved me back. We were all so happy, I didn’t believe I could ever have friends so wonderful and a life so good. So, when they told me, that it was over, that it had never been real… I believed it. Because how could it be? How could someone like me be so well loved by so many wonderful people? By you?” He scrubbed at his wet cheeks as he let out a weak cry, so angry at himself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I’m sorry that I let you down.”

“How did this happen? How did it all get so f*cked?” Sirius cried out, yelling in frustration as he pulled at his hair. “We- we were doing the right thing, and Lily and James… they were so good.” He sobbed, Remus watched as Sirius crumbled in on himself, crouching to the floor. “They were good, they were so – and now, how? And Hari- she just, got left with them. They’re kid, they’re baby, so good like them and she- James trusted me, he trusted me to look after her if anything happened.” Remus stumbled forward, falling to his knees in front of Sirius, pulling the crying man into his arms.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Remus whispered into his hair. “It wasn’t any of our faults.”

“I told him to use Peter!” Sirius sobbed, “Lily wanted it to be you, and I told them no. It was my fault, Moony. All my fault.”

Remus just held him tighter, rocking him as though he were a child.

“Shh, love.” He attempted to sooth, letting his tears fall into Sirius’s hair. “It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t any of our faults.” He repeated, because what else could he do? He held Sirius as he sobbed, stroking his hair and whispering words they’d both forget, soothing nothings, but that’s all Remus had to offer, in the face of such devastating grief and loss and guilt. Such heavy, heavy guilt.

Chapter 9: Home

Chapter Text

The rest of the year seemed to pass without Hari realising, and before she knew it, she was sat on the train again, on her way back to London. Hermione kept shooting worried glances at Hari, ignoring Ron’s excitedly talking about the tickets for the Quidditch world cup this August that Arthur Weasley had managed to get a hold of.

Hari tried to be enthusiastic for her friend’s sake, but all she could think about was Remus’s promise, she wanted to believe her new mentor but as the train drew closer and closer to its destination… Hari couldn’t be angry with him, she knew he would have tried.

But that didn’t stop the sickly swirl of disappointment and fear threatening to climb its way up her throat.

Then the train hissed to a stop, and they were back.

Hari swallowed and said goodbye to her friends, promising to write to everyone, if she could.

Hermione grabbed her and squeezed her tight in a hug.

“You have my number, if they don’t let you let Hedwig out.” She assured her. “If you can get to the phone call me okay, please?”

Hari nodded, but didn’t speak, she would cry if she did.

Hari grabbed her suitcase and lugged it down off the train, she waved to Molly Weasley across the platform her heart lurching as she watched Ron, Ginny and the twins reunite with their mum. The Dursleys would be outside; they didn’t like to wait.

Bracing herself, Hari stepped through the wall into the muggle side of the train station and made her way through the crowd to the entrance. She searched the car park for signs of the Dursley’s Honda, her stomach twisting in knots as she came up empty, Vernon would be furious if she made them wait long.

Hedwig squawked impatiently.

“Shh girl it’s okay.” She placed the owl’s cage down to sooth her; she didn’t like being carried when Hari’s hands were shaking so much. Just as she was wiping the sweat of her palms to pick up the owl again, Hari saw a scruff of black fur in the distance.

Curious, but unwilling to get her hopes up, Hari followed. She caught glimpses of the shaggy tale as it led her away from the station. It was only a few minutes later that the Irish Wolfhound stopped, sitting itself on the ground next to an old looking car, with Remus Lupin leaning on by the driver’s side, smoking a cigarette.

“Professor?” Hari asked, Lupin turned to her and put out his cigarette with an embarrassed smile.

“I think Remus should do fine, considering I’m no longer employed at Hogwarts.” He smiled as he opened the passenger side for the dog to jump in, he then moved to the back to pop the boot. “Well? Are you coming along?” He sounded like he was trying to joke, but Hari thought she saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. He looked so different from when she'd last seen him, in his office battered and bruised as he packed his things and said goodbye. He looked a little more relaxed, dressed in a very old looking jumper and jeans - a stark contrast to the stuffy wool suits she was used to seeing him in.

“Won’t the Dursley’s tell Dumbledore?” Hari asked anxiously, still glancing around the station car park, expecting them to drive up and take her away.

“All taken care of, I paid them a visit, explained to them I was an employee of Hogwarts, and would be taking over your care outside of term time from now on.” He explained. “It wasn’t technically a lie.” Hari heard a bark from the car that sounded like it might have been a laugh. “Is that okay?”

Hari couldn’t hold back her tears as she nodded, then ran to throw her things in the boot.

“Uh, is it okay if I have Hedwig next to me? She doesn’t like the boot.”

“Of course.”

She moved quickly to take her seat in the back, buckling herself and Hedwig in, worried that at any moment someone might show up to stop her, or Lupin – no Remus – might change his mind.

Remus sat in the driver’s seat and fiddled for a moment, the car roared to life and lurched forwards then back.

“Sorry.” He smiled with embarrassment, “I’m not great with muggle cars.”

It took over an hour to get out of the city, and it felt as though all three of them didn’t let out their breath the entire time.

It was only then that Sirius reappeared in the passenger seat. Or at least, Hari assumed it was Sirius; the man sat before her now looked nothing like the wild Azkaban escapee she'd met less than a month prior. Now he looked like an older and thinner version of Professor Black, his hair longer and his skin littered with tattoos, mostly hidden by the black leather jacket he wore. There was still the slight sinking in his cheeks, the soft purple under his eyes, but he looked... brighter. Last time Hari had seen Sirius, he'd been driven by nothing but blind hatred, rolling off of him in waves, it made him dangerous and desperate. He seemed much calmer now, still burning with something in the back of his gaze, something uneasy, but the restless seemed more out of excitement than frustration.

“Well, that was tense.” He let out an uneasy laugh, “Sorry we have to drive, pup, it’s my fault. I’m not fit for apparition at the moment, even if I’m just side-alonged.” Sirius gave her an apologetic smile over his shoulder.

“That’s okay.” Hari answered, she felt nervous all of sudden. “Raised by muggles remember? Apparition is more likely to make me sick.”

“That’s a good point.” Sirius nodded then turned to Remus. “Maybe we should let Hari drive Moony? She’ll probably not stall so much.”

“I’ll be fine now we’re on the motor way, it’s all the stopping and starting in the city that’s the problem.” Remus grumbled, Hari noticed his cheeks blush slightly at Sirius’s teasing.

“So… where are we going?” Hari asked.

“Home.” Sirius said with a smile that seemed to hold the sun behind it. “You’re home specifically. Your grandparents manor up north, it’s where your father was raised.”

“Manor?” Hari’s eyes widened, she’d known that her father’s family had money, she’d seen it in Gringotts, but not that much. The Malfoy’s had a manor, the Longbottom’s had a manor - for Hari, that just didn’t seem to translate to her parents.

“Your dad didn’t like to call it that.” Remus said. “But it was- is one.”

“Yeah ol’ Prongsy always liked to pretend he didn’t come from money.” Sirius said with a sigh.

“Reminds me of someone.” Remus mumbled, Sirius grinned.

“Anyway,” Remus met Hari’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “That’s where we’re headed, it’ll take a while, we should have brought you some books…. Oh when we next stop you can grab your home work to keep you busy.”

“Don’t be so boring, Moony.” Sirius rolled his eyes, “The kid only just got out of school, let her have a break. Besides,” Sirius turned in his chair to Hari, “We have what? Thirteen years to catch up on.”

“I’m fourteen.” Hari corrected.

“Yeah but I knew you for the first one, so I’m up to date on that. First word was ‘baba’ if I’m not mistaken, James and Lily said it didn’t count, but I stand by it.”

Hari watched Remus roll his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“What did they say it was?” Hari asked

“Well,” Sirius said with a sigh. “James always said it was ‘dada’ but Lily swore she heard you say ‘mama’ first, but it mysteriously only happened around her so we were sceptical. I like to stick to ‘baba’ – was never a good idea to take a side when those two started.”

“Did they argue a lot?” Hari asked.

“Not like that, they never meant it, not once they got together. Before?” Sirius said with a chuckle. “Bloody deadly it was, ol’ McGonagall would nearly always have to step in before hex’s started flying. But once they got it sorted and realised they were mad for each other? Lost all its teeth, honestly it became their way of flirting, made you nauseous to see.” Sirius teased.

Hari frowned as she tried to adjust the image she had conjured of her parents, the one she'd pictured so many nights in her cupboard. The Lily and James she'd imagined, that Dumbledore and Hagrid had described, kind and brave and good. She only ever pictured them being gentle with one another, like in the photo she had, of James twirling Lily around in the park, joyful and soft and happy. Hari tried to picture that version of Lily rolling her eyes and James, who grinned and gloated, of her hiding a smile as he made a fool of himself.

Hari tried to compare them to the other parents she knew, Vernon and Petunia who seemed to only bicker or nag, who never laughed together. Or Mr and Mrs Weasley, who admired each other, who worked so hard for each other, sneaking pecks on the cheek whilst washing the dishes. Did James and Lily nag each other? Did Lily complain when James worked too much? Did James nag Lily about leaving her dirty socks on the floor? If they'd lived to Molly and Arthur's age, would they still have danced in the kitchen in the evenings? Would they have still been excited to see each other everyday?

Hari felt starved for information, greedy for any scraps she could grab, to know something, anything, about the people who didn't get to raise her.

“When did they realise?” She asked.

“Well your dad loved your mum from first year.” Sirius said, “Was a bit annoying honestly, have your best mate always either brooding or trying to show off for her, I think sixth year is when your mum started to like him back, saw a different side to him then I suppose.”

“Why didn’t she like him before?” Hari asked, “Did she not know he liked her?”

“Your dad was a bit… he liked to show off a bit, he grew out of it eventually, but Lily didn’t like that about him.” Remus explained, to which Sirius nodded.

“So, you guys weren’t friends with her until then? Who were her friends?”

Remus and Sirius shared a look.

“What?” Hari asked.

"Lily and I were always friends-" Remus answered.

"You should have seen these two, biggest swots in Hogwarts." Sirius teased.

"-And"Remus continued, sending a half-hearted scowl the other man's way. "She was also close with Mary McDonald, I think I mentioned her to you. And Marlene McKinnon, they were all in the same dorm."

“And?” She prodded.

Sirius did a poor job of feigning ignorance, avoiding Hari’s gaze.

“What are you both not saying?” Hari turned to Remus, who seemed torn.

“It’s a bit complicated." Remus said with a pained sigh. "There was a boy, Severus Snape. He and your mother knew each other before Hogwarts. She was muggleborn as you know, but they lived in the same town, they remained close until sixth year, but then they had... a falling out.”

Hari felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Was he her boyfriend, before dad?”

“Oh Merlin no.” Sirius blurted, “Lilly and Snivilus? She’d never.” Remus shot a glare at Sirius, who grumbled a ‘sorry’.

“It was complicated, him being very… Slytherin, but they were never involved.”

Hari considered this a moment, she’d never heard that name before, it seemed there was a reason for it.

“Any more questions?” Sirius asked, “I can tell you all their embarrassing secrets. I promised them both I would humiliate them to their kids one day, and I intend to stick to that.” He teased with a smile that seemed somewhat nostalgic.

“I mean yes, a million.” Hari said, “But I think I’ll save them for now.”

“Good!” Sirius clapped his hands. “My turn.”

The next hour or so of the drive was spent with Sirius asking about every aspect of Hari’s life he could. Who here best friends were, what her classes were like, what lessons she liked best, how she joined the Quidditch team. She told the story of McGonagall letting her on the team after the incident with Dulcinea and Neville.

“Dulcinea Malfoy did that?” Sirius asked, his voice strange. “Narcissa and Lucius’s girl?”

“Uhm yeah why, did you know them?” Hari’s stomach felt tight.

“Oh me and Narcissa are cousins, she was a Black before she married him.”

Hari nodded, she thought quietly for a moment.

“Do you like your cousin?” She asked eventually, Sirius let out a heavy sigh.

“Bit complicated my family, pup.” He said. “Talk about it another time, yeah?”

Hari nodded, more than willing to abide a ‘no family talk’ rule.

“So, seeker, in your first year then?” Sirius beamed. “Your dad would be insufferable if he were here, he’d have a shirt with your face on it and ‘Ask me about my kid being the youngest quidditch player in the history of Hogwarts’ written on the back.” Remus laughed at that.

Hari felt her cheeks flush with pride, Ron always complained about his parent embarrassing him, the idea of having the same problem made Hari so unbelievably happy and immeasurably sad at the same time.

“Your mother would be too, she’d be worried of course, being muggleborn she always fussed over your father during his matches. Worried he’d break something.” Remus added.

“Sounds like Hermione.” Hari said fondly, remembering her friend trying to convince Madam Hooch to make everyone where helmets, it drove her mad that Hari – also raised by muggles – wasn’t equally worried. “Will I be able to write to my friends, from the house?” She still couldn’t bring herself to call it a Manor.

“Of course.” Remus assured her, “Though it’s probably best you don’t mention where you are exactly.”

“With me being a criminal on the run, and this technically being a kidnapping and all.” Sirius added casually. That made Hari’s stomach twist.

“You guys won’t get into trouble will you? I don’t want anything bad happening to you both just because I didn’t want to spend a couple of weeks with my Aunt.” Hari worried.

“Only get in trouble if we’re caught.” Sirius winked at her, it didn’t make her feel better.

“We knew the risk we were taking when we picked you up, Hari.” Remus assured her, “We both know it’s worth it.”

“Anyway.” Sirius said with a long stretch. “My arse hurts, and Remus needs a rollie. Let’s pull in somewhere.”

Remus cast a few glamours over Sirius, replacing his dark shaggy hair with a crew cut and his dark eyes with green. He didn’t look like a completely different person, Hari could still tell it was him, but it was different enough from the papers that he wouldn’t be spotted any time soon.

Whilst Remus stayed outside to finish his smoke, Sirius and Hari went into a small rest stop for bathroom breaks and food. Once Hari finished, patting her hands on her jeans to dry them as she headed back to the main shop, she saw Sirius by a sunglasses stand, trying on different frames.

“I like those.” Hari pointed to a pair of big round ones with dark lenses and a frame covered in leopard spots. Sirius took off the aviators he was trying and put them on.

“Ooh you’re right!” Sirius said, inspecting himself in the mirror, making pouty faces like a model, Hari laughed. Sirius grinned then handed Hari the aviators. “Come on, you try some.”

Hari took of her prescription lenses and tried the pair he handed her, they were far too big for her face and she couldn’t see beyond five foot in front of her, but she loved them.

“That settles it.” Sirius said with a firm nod, Sirius gave Hari some muggle notes and let her handle the actual buying, meanwhile he headed out to speak to Remus. Hari smiled at the cashier as she took her carrier bag filled to the brim with snacks and pop.

“You and your dad on a road trip?” The cashier asked with a friendly smile.

“Oh, he’s not my dad.” Hari corrected, but the slight frown on the lady’s face told her that was a mistake. “He’s my uncle.” Hari amended quickly, realising it might be strange to see a teenage girl with an adult man who wasn’t her father. “My dad’s by the car.”

“I see.” The cashier glanced outside to where Remus and Sirius stood, Hari followed her gave to see Sirius with his hand on Remus’s hip, they stood very close to one other. “They seem to… get on well.” She offered awkwardly. Hari just nodded with a slight blush before heading back out in a rush.

“Everything alright, pup?” Remus asked as Hari jumped into the back seat without looking at either of them.

“Yep!” Hari said a little too loudly as she struggled with her seat belt, Sirius shrugged at the taller man before getting back in the passengers seat.

Once they were on the road again, Sirius started fiddling with the radio, he switched stations until he found one with music he liked then settled back into his seat, he popped a crisp in his mouth.

“I missed muggle food so much.” He said with a sigh, “Oh speaking of!” Sirius rummaged through the snack bag for a moment before producing a Walnut Whip and presenting it to Remus. “Tada!”

Remus smiled fondly.

“I haven’t had one of those in ages.”

“Thought you might not have.” Sirius said as he began to unwrap the chocolate, he then passed it to Remus who took a bite, he hummed happily around the treat.

Hari watched the interaction with poorly hidden fascination. She wondered if her parents saw them interreact like this, she wondered if they were happy for their friends or if… they felt differently. Hari turned back to the window, watching the countryside roll past them.

When Hari opened her eyes, the sun was setting and the road had changed from neat fields to wilder lands, a moor stretched out around them, there didn’t seem to be any sign of people – muggle or wizard – for miles.

“We’re nearly there.” Remus noticed her wake. Sirius was snoring beside him under two coats and the heating blaring. “Sorry it’s a bit warm, but since Azkaban he gets shivers, with the dementors…” Hari shook her head.

“It’s fine, I get it.”

Remus nodded then they returned to quiet.

“You saw Sirius and I, at the petrol station.” Remus didn’t ask it as question, Hari felt her cheeks get hot and she nodded. Remus considered this for a moment. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Hari replied, Sirius stirred, “No.” She tried again. “I don’t know, I just… I’ve never known anyone that was-“ She gestured vaguely at nothing. “Like that before.”

Remus nodded as though he understood.

“You don’t have to stay with us, I can take you to the Weasley’s or your muggleborn friend. I’d explain it to Sirius, he’d understand.”

Hari shook her head so hard it made her dizzy.

“That’s not! I want to stay with you, with both of you!” Hari said desperately, terrified that he might send her away. “I don’t mind that you’re… that you love each other like that.”

Remus was quiet again for a long time, then he met her eyes in the mirror again, he smiled but his eyes looked glassy.

“Did- did mum and dad know?” She asked, not looking away.

“Yes, they did.” He said.

“And they…. They were okay with it?”

Remus smiled wider then.

"They were our biggest supporters, your mum and dad were good people; that was never something they cared about."

Hari didn’t know why it was so important for her to hear it, but it was.

“Good.” She said firmly.

A few minutes later, Sirius stirred from his slumber, he stretched then placed a kiss on Remus’s cheek. He seemed to wake up fully then and realise that Hari had seen.

“Oh, uh – Hi, pup. Didn’t know you were awake.” He smiled awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, we talked about it while you got your beauty rest.” Remus assured, sharing a smile with Hari.

“Yes, well I do need to catch up on that.” Sirius said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, poking sadly at his sunken cheeks.

“Well, that’s what the sunglasses are for.” Hari reminded him. “You’ll be like the celebrities after they’ve had work done.”

“I knew there was something I liked about you, kid.” Sirius said, grabbing his leopard print sunglasses and slotting them into place. He turned to Remus for his approval, giving him one of his model poses. “What do you think?”

Remus rolled his eyes but stifled a small smile.

“They definitely suite you.”

“Why thank you.” Sirius accepted the compliment and turned to the window, “Oh, we’re here.”

Hari blinked a few times then turned back to the window, and where there was only moors before, stood what could only be described as a castle. Not a manor, a bloody castle.

It was nowhere near the size of Hogwarts, obviously, but it wasn’t exactly bloody small. The main building was made up of red brick with arched windows lined uniformly around it, it looked to be around three stories tall. At the front stood a tower, that looked to be nearly twice as tall as the building behind it, and ivy that had turned what could only be described as Gryffindor red wrapped all around it. It was surrounded by what once would have been a well-kept lawn, that was now wilder, with clover and weeds sprouting up high from the ground. Hari thought she liked that better.

“Is that a f*cking battlement?!” Hari gasped, glaring at the roof of the castle that her father supposedly was raised in. Yep, it was definitely a battlement.

“Language, Hari.” Remus scolded, but Sirius let out another bark of laughter.

“Come on.” Hari huffed, throwing her hands in the air. “I was living in a cupboard under the stairs in bloody Surrey, for eleven years, when I could have been living in a castle. Bloody unfair.” Hari crossed her arms in a mock sulk, but didn’t hear Remus tut at her swearing or Sirius laughing, she quickly sobered when she saw their shared look. “What?” She asked, anxious.

“A cupboard?” Remus finally asked.

“Oh.” Hari she sighed in relief; she'd thought she said something wrong. “Yeah, thought you knew?”

“No Hari, I most certainly did not know.” Remus stared ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tight. Sirius clapped his hands, making them both jump.

“Depressing sh*t later.” He scorned the pair. “Let’s go see Buckbeak.”

Remus started unpacking the car, shooing Sirius and Hari ahead to the Hippogriff.

“Go on, I’ll get the fires going.”

Sirius lead Hari excitedly around the manor to a stable, where Buckbeak lay with his head resting on his front claws. He chirped up when he saw them both approaching, Hari bowed to the hippogriff and then began petting him, Sirius joined her in silence for a while.

“Is Remus… angry at me?” Hari broke the silence first, Sirius seemed surprised.

“Merlin Hari, no he’s not mad at you.” He shook his head. “He’s angry for you, we all are, can you see why?”

Hari sunk her hand into Buckbeak's warm feathers, a frown creasing her brow.

“I don’t want to talk about the Dursleys.” Hari said, Sirius frowned.

“I… understand not wanting to talk about it, and we won’t force you… but you should talk to someone about it.” He held her gaze until she looked away. “I know your feelings to them, and us, and probably adults in general, are going to be complicated right now.” Hari didn’t take her eyes of Buckbeak’s feathers. “But, maybe once we find Pettigrew and I’m cleared – maybe we can get you someone that’s not all tied up in this to talk to, a neutral party.”

“Like a therapist.” Hari said with apprehension

“I was thinking more a mind healer, I don’t know how you’d explain helping your godfather escape prison on a flying lion chicken to a muggle.” Sirius said.

“And a time turner.” Hari added with the beginnings of a smile.

“Alright over achiever.” Sirius rolled his eyes at his goddaughter, “I do want to hear more about your little adventures in your first and second year, though. Moony tells me you found the map?”

Hari grinned at that, she tried not to think about the nightmares she still had about Professor Quarrel and his face turning to dust in her hands. Or how sometimes she still flinched when a professor raised their wand, that they might aim it at her or worse, terrified that they might end up in Janus Thickey Ward with Lockhart, not remembering their own name.

Maybe she’d leave those parts out.

The inside of Potter Manor was not nearly as derelict as she had suspected, it had been nearly fifteen years since another soul had stepped inside, and yet there wasn’t so much as a cobweb. They took the old servants entrance to the kitchen, where Remus stood over an old fashioned stove, heating up tinned soup. Hari could smell bread toasting and cheese melting, her stomach growled in response.

They all sat around the large kitchen table, burning their mouths on the tomato soup and gooey cheddar, it was one of the best dinners she’d eaten in her life.

“I thought we’d leave the tour for today, let you get settled in your room and get in some sleep, then we can have a wonder around after breakfast.” Sirius suggested as picked up their empty bowls and started washing them by hand in the sink.

“You’ve been here before?” Hari asked, she’d suspected as much already.

“Used to live here, after fifth year.” Sirius said, “The Potters took me in, I had issues with my own parents.” He didn’t elaborate further, Hari decided not to push. “Remus would visit every summer as well, and most Christmases. And you mum too, she’d come for a week over Christmas eventually.”

Hari imagined what that would look like, would it be like at the Weasley’s? Hari could see Sirius and her dad causing trouble the way Fred and George would, would they play quidditch together, like she and the Weasley’s did. Her mum watching from the edges, rolling her eyes but worrying all the same, the way Hermione does? Did the Potters- her grandparents – fuss over them like Molly and Arthur? She’d never asked about them before, she realised, she didn’t even know their names. She felt guilt pool uncomfortably in her stomach, she hadn’t even really thought of them before.

“You alright, pup?” Remus nudged, Hari perked up.

“Yeah, just tired I think.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Been a long day, I’ll show you up.” Remus offered.

“Night, pup.” Sirius called over his shoulder, waving a soapy hand in her direction.

“Night.” She yawned back, then let Remus lead her upstairs.

“Me and Sirius are in this room,” Remus gestured to a door on his left, “This one here was your dad’s growing up, we’ll go in there tomorrow, if you like. This one was your grandfathers, then your grandmothers – rich families always do that.” He said at Hari’s confused frown. “They usually will have their own rooms, your grandfather used to snore like a horntail, even through the silencing charms you could hear him.”

They stopped at a room beside what was once her grandmothers.

“This was your room, or was going to be. Your grandparents both past before you were born, so you never got to stay, but they had a room done up as soon as Lily announced.” Remus said with a warm smile, “It’s a nursery really, so we figured you’d rather stay in a guest room for now, once you’ve had time to settle we can have a look and you can change rooms later. Up to you.”

Hari was grateful, she didn’t think she could stand seeing the room her grandparents had readied for her, the room she might have had if they’d all made it. Not trusting her voice she smiled and took herself to the guest room Remus had pointed her to, it was a large room with a window overlooking a greenhouse she hadn’t noticed before, she saw her trunk settled at the foot of the double canopy bed.

“We’re just down the hallway if you need us, okay?” Remus stood in the door way with a watchful look in his eye.

“Okay, night Remus.” She said with a tired smile.

“Good night, Hari.”

Once the door pressed closed, Hari let out a heavy sigh, she opened her trunk and fished out her pajamas and a Weasley jumper. She was too tired to shower, no matter how lush the ensuite bathroom may have looked. She opened the window to let out Hedwig, and decided she liked the feel of the warm breeze; she left it open and crawled into bed.

She listened to the sound of the river outside her window, the distant sound of Hedwig hooting into the dark, the creak of old wood as the house settled. She felt safe. She felt the love in the walls, left from her parents magic, her grandparents magic, and all that came before. And she mourned them. She mourned the life she would have had, if her parents weren’t taken from her, if her grandparents had lived longer, if Sirius had been free, if she wasn’t kept from Remus.

All that she was robbed of.

She wept until her body ached with the effort, too much grief for one child to carry. And once she was done, and her pain was released into the walls, enveloped by the house that had waited for her for so long, she slept.

She slept and she dreamt of a man with her hair and a woman with her eyes, and the love they had for their daughter that was so much, that even death could not face it.

Chapter 10: Mother, I'm coming home

Chapter Text

Sirius hummed to himself as he scrubbed the cold melted cheese from the griddle, enjoying the feel of hot soapy water on his hands. He heard Remus enter the kitchen and then moments later, felt his arms slip around his waist, and his nose bury in his neck. Sirius leant into the touch, loving the warmth.

“Merlin I missed you.” Sirius sighed, feeling his eyes begin to burn, he cried a lot these days.

Remus hummed into his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He’d been out of Azkaban for ten months now, but he never truly felt he was free, until he’d stepped into Remus’s sh*tty little cottage in Wales a month ago. Walking into it after so long away, being wrapped up in his Moony’s smell, his old books and warmth, that’s when Sirius felt like himself for the first time in thirteen years.

But now, he was home. Potter manor, the first place he’d seen what family really could be, somewhere safe and warm, full of love and kindness. Even without Euphie and Monty, James and Lily, it was still Sirius’s home.

He was so happy to be able to share it with Hari, he’d show her how wonderful family could be, just as James had shown him.

It didn’t take much to convince Regulus and Mary that it was the right place for her, it was Hari’s home after all, where she was meant to be all along.

Mary’s flat wouldn’t fit her, not with her own children already sharing a room. Remus’s cottage was safe enough, but Dumbledore knew where it was; they couldn’t risk him finding them and taking her back. Sirius wouldn’t let them take her back there. He’d die first, kill first.

No, Potter Manor was always going to be the place, the biggest issue for Mary and Regulus had been who would be with Hari over the summer. Sirius had assumed it would be him, of course it would be him, James chose him. It was always supposed to be him. Mary couldn’t, she didn’t have the space and she couldn’t leave her job and her boys. Regulus wasn’t ever an option, and it had irked Sirius to no end when Remus had suggested it.

Ultimately, it was the assurance that Remus would be there as well, that had soothed the worried frown on Mary’s brow, that softened the hard stone that was Regulus’s expression. That was knew for Sirius, the bond that seemed to have formed between Mary, Remus and his brother, there was a trust there that appeared so foreign.

When Sirius had left the world thirteen years ago, Mary had been a party girl, who’d never settle down, focusing on what was fun in the present, not giving a damn about tomorrow. Regulus – his estranged younger brother – had been a death eater, the obedient little blood supremacist their parents had always wanted. Dumbledore had been the pinnacle of everything good in the wizarding world, a man who you could trust to do the right thing, the good thing. It was beyond disconcerting to come back to find that, not only were these things no longer true, but theopposite might be.

And Remus… Sirius was beginning to realise that Remus hadn’t changed at all, not really. Older, more tired maybe… sadder. But Remus was still Moony, his Moony. He took his tea different, but he still ate too much chocolate and not enough vegetables, he still smoked too much and the joint in his hip still played up after the moon. The skin on his hand may have gotten rough with time, but his touch was still the same. He was still the quick, grumpy, witty, kind boy he’d known at eleven, twenty-one and now at the ancient age of thirty three.

Everything was different, but he still had Moony.

Sirius wasn’t quite back, he wasn’t sure he ever would be; everything was so different now. But having Remus, and finally being able to fulfil his promise to James and Lily, to keep their daughter safe, it was enough, it was more than he ever thought he’d have.

“What are you thinking?” Remus asked, he asked that a lot these days, Sirius smiled at the small kisses he placed on his shoulder.

“I’m happy.” Sirius said, “I’m thinking how happy I am, to have you, to have you both safe here with me.”

Remus’s grip around him tightened, as if to reinforce that yes, they were all here, what was left of them.

“Let me make love to you.” He felt his love slip his fingers under his shirt, warm against his stomach, Sirius gasped as his teeth scrapped the flesh of his neck. It was almost too much, he was so sensitive these days, it left him feeling delicate, like he might shatter.

“Yes.” Sirius felt himself breath out, dropping the pan back into the water, his task abandoned as he turned to face Remus. His face was desperate with want, his mouth open and breathing heavy. They collided into each other, digging into clothes to try and have as much of their skin touching as possible, as if there was no way to be close enough.

Sirius had no idea how they made it to his old room, he didn’t care enough to figure it out. All he cared about was the taste of Remus on his tongue, the feel of his hands on him, of their bodies moving together.

He was home, after so long, he was finally back home.

Hari woke up well into the morning, it was a first for her, usually in the summers she’d have to be up early to make breakfast for Vernon and Dudley. Instead, she was awoken by her own grumbling stomach, thoughts of food lured her out of bed to shower.

The bathroom was white tiled and clean, it had a small old-fashioned bath and shower combination, with a single dispenser that she discovered released different soaps depending on what she thought of as she pressed the button.

With wet hair that smelt of cinnamon and something else warm she couldn’t quiet place, Hari made her way down the hall to find herself some breakfast. She held a lock of her hair in her fingers, brushing the drying soft ends to her mouth, enjoying the familiar smell as she scuffed her slippers against the stone. She paused at the door that Remus had pointed to last night.

James’s room, her father’s room.

Hari stared at the grain in the dark wood, as if she could learn something from the knots and lines, her eyes fell to the handle. She felt her throat close as her fingers brushed the brass, it was cool; the metal smooth and worn.

It’s just a room.

And when the door fell open, that’s what she saw. A room no different than the guest one she had slept in that night, the only difference being a desk with books, parchment and quill. Hari stepped forward, the books were not much of note, an old potions textbook and another for herbology. Hari lifted the parchment to read the messy script, it looked like an essay. That didn’t make sense; why on earth would he be writing an essay? He was 21 when he’d died, four years out of Hogwarts. Curious, she placed the paper down and continued her inspection, it was so clean and tidy, not at all how she imagined her father’s childhood room to be.

Hari imagined her grandparents nagging him to clean, him rolling his eyes and replying with some snarky comment; she’d heard her attitude was so much like his. He was clever as well, to hide his cloak for so long, to make the map with the other Marauders.

What if?

Hari turned back to the desk and, on an instinct, dabbed the quill in the still wet ink well, then quickly scrawled:

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

And just like the map, the disguise of the room unfurled, revealing itself.

First the bookshelf stocked with tombs and homework, melted into a glass cupboard stocked with all sorts of pranked miscellaneous goods, it would rival even Fred and George Weasley’s collection. Then the desk, of course no longer covered in schoolwork, but half worked spells and torn notes, with crude drawings she really wished she hadn’t seen. The carpet was no longer clean and blank, but a stained messy thing covered in dirty clothes and discarded things. The walls were covered in drawings and posters, bands both muggle and wizarding that she didn’t recognise, and of course for quidditch – Hari couldn’t tell if she was surprised to see that her father supported the Tornadoes.

Hari wondered to the wardrobe and was unsurprised to see it in absolute disarray, most of his clothes were thrown to the bottom, rather than hung up on the mostly empty coat hangers. There was however, one section that was perfectly ordered. On a shelf at the top were a pile of clothes. Hari reached on her toes to lift a thick jumper from the top, it wasn’t until she held it in front of her that she realised it was Lily’s.

It was muggle, the cotton soft and worn, a deep navy blue. Hari held back the stinging tears as she rubbed the material to her face, she recognised the warm smell from her shampoo, she inhaled it deeply as she hugged the jumper. When she pulled back she let out a gasp, just sat on the shoulder Hari spotted a single long ginger hair.

With a shaky finger she plucked the single hair and held it tight, she ran to her room clasping the jumper as though she was afraid it would disappear. She flung open her trunk and found her potions kit – she was glad now that her potions were never successful enough in class to save – as it meant she had plenty of empty vials, she only needed one.

Hari uncorked it and gently dropped the hair into the glass, as though it was the most precious thing in the world, and to her, in that moment, it was. She closed it carefully, then ran to her desk, to her fortune there was wax melts for sealing letters, she melted them quickly and then dipped the head of the vial to seal it. Only once it was safely locked away, within glass and wax, did she let out a shaky breath. She placed the vial gently in her trunk, wrapped in a scarf, it was safe.

She pulled the jumper over her head and buried her nose in the cotton. Inhaling the warmth, there was another scent as well, one more familiar, something like violets? Was that her mother had smelt like? When she’d held Hari as a baby, is this what she had smelt, is it what soothed her when she woke in the night?

Hari took a moment to let the ache in her chest settle, then finally headed downstairs for breakfast, for which her stomach was grateful.

Remus was up early; he stood over the stove frying bacon and eggs, Hari couldn’t help feel embarrassed seeing her former professor in slippers and a dressing gown.

“Do you want your bread toasted?” He asked as Hari took a seat at the table and poured herself some tea from a tall steel pot, she added lots of milk and two sugars.

“Yes, please.” She said and Remus flicked his wand and a knife on the counter began slicing a tiger loaf, then two slices danced their way onto the grill. “Sirius still asleep?”

“He won’t be long now.” He said, placing a plate of eggs and bacon rashers in front of Hari, the toast quickly summoned itself to follow. Hari immediately used a fork to scoop up the rashers and egg onto the bread to make a sandwich. “So, what did you want to do today?”

Hari chewed on the crispy yolky goodness for moment before she swallowed and answered.

“I went into dad’s room already.” She told him and took another hungry bite.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to wait.” Remus said, then he nodded to the jumper Hari was still wearing. “I see you figured out your dad’s ward.” Hari blushed slightly and nodded. “It’s your house Hari, you help yourself to whatever you find.” He assured her, taking a bite of neatly stacked bacon, egg, and toast from his fork.

They both turned to the sound of Sirius thundering down the stairs, in the short day that she’d been around the man, Hari had learnt quickly that he did not have a quiet presence, despite being a wanted criminal on the run.

“Morning.” He announced as he burst into the kitchen, then took a heavy seat next to Remus. “Bacon at last!” He sighed then followed Hari’s example and made a sandwich.

“Hari and I were just discussing the plan for today.” Remus informed him, Sirius bumbled out a ‘sure’ around his food.

“Actually, I was thinking, would it be okay if we didn’t do a tour of the house?” Hari asked, Sirius couldn’t help but look disappointed. “I do want to see it all!” She quickly assured him. “I just… it’s a lot, I think maybe just… a room a day? I don’t think I can handle seeing more for now.”

Remus nodded then, seeing Sirius’s confusion, explained “Hari had a look around James’s room this morning.”

“You found his secret room?” Sirius turned to Hari, a mixture of surprise and pride on his face. “Well now I’m embarrassed, it took me a week to figure it out – I was trying to nick his wee-“ Remus seemed to kick Sirius under the table “-uh I mean, his um herbology homework! I was trying to copy his herbology homework.” Sirius seemed satisfied with the lie and went back to his sandwich, Hari decided to pretend she didn’t know what he meant, but judging from the look on Remus’s face, he thought Hari was as bad a liar as Sirius.

“I wanted to write to my friends, let them know they can send me letters this summer if they like.” Hari suggested.

“Sounds good, pup.” Sirius nodded, “Let us know when you’re finished, maybe we can show you around the grounds outside, there’s a half size quidditch pitch where can you test out your Firebolt.” He said with a wink.

“There was another thing as well,” Remus began, a little awkwardly, “You remember me mentioning Mary, your godmother?” Hari nodded. “Well, she’d really like to meet you, what do you think?”

Hari chewed her mouthful quickly, she didn’t need to think about it.

“Yes!” She burst, “I’d love to meet her, is she- is she nice?” She couldn’t help but ask, Sirius laughed.

“Yes, she’s lovely.” Remus smiled. “How does this afternoon sound?”

“She can come here?” Hari asked, Sirius had assured her that Potter Manor was unplottable, and very few people knew its location – a precaution taken during the war – it meant that even if anyone did come looking for her, so long as she was at the manor, no on could find her. It made the prospect of leaving its grounds seem daunting, if the Dursley’s couldn’t find her here, why would she ever want to leave?

“If you like.” Remus assured her, and Hari beamed a grin.

After breakfast Hari went back up to her room to write her letters, starting with Hermione.

Hermione,

I can write to you this summer!!!

It’s only been a day but it’s already the best summer ever, I’m not at Privet Drive but I’m somewhere safe, I’m in this old house that has so much history, you’d love it. There are even dogs here! One’s an Irish Wolfhound I think, the other is a bit more of a mix, but I’m sure you’d be able to tell what he is.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get a landline here, but if we can set it up maybe we could actually talk on the phone, do it muggle style.

How are your parents? I was wondering if you would tell them what happened during the year, I know you don’t like to scare them. Have you told them about first and second year? My guardians want me to tell them everything, but I don’t want to scare them, they tend to worry about me at Hogwarts.

Write to me soon.

Love,

Hari.

Hari reviewed the letter a couple of times, Hermione would be able to figure out what she meant, and whilst she knew no one was likely to check her post, she still felt the need for at least a little subtlety. Her letter to Ron was a little shorter, she knew she couldn’t tell him, as much as she trusted him. The Weasley’s were close; Molly would definitely find out, and definitely tell Dumbledore. Instead, she asked him about the quidditch world cup, and let him know she would be able to join them for it, she also added a note for Ginny and the twins. She wrote a letter for Luna next, her fair headed friend had always been disappointed that she couldn’t write over the summer, so Hari was happy to finally have the opportunity. Once the usual where finished, Hari sat and stared at a blank parchment, then decided to pen a letter for Dulcinea as well.

Dear Dulcinea Malfoy,

How are you? I’m spending the summer away from Surrey this year, so whilst unfortunately you won’t be able to visit, I am able to write.

I’ve been able to reconnect with some friends that I met at Hogwarts, I believe I told you about them. What are your plans for the summer? I imagine your family have a villa in France or Italy somewhere. Will you see anyone from school?

I’m going to attend the Quidditch world cup with the Weasley’s, will you be there? Maybe we could hang out I found out my father was a Tornadoes fan, I’m sure you’re disappointed to have the same taste as a Potter, maybe that will be enough to make you see the light and realise the Hapry’s are far superior.

Now remember your pureblood manners and write back soon.

From,

Hari

HLP

Potter.

Ps. Did you know Sirius Black is your cousin? Does that make us related?

Satisfied, Hari sealed her final letter and attached them to Hedwig.

“Deliver Malfoy’s first.” Hari reminded the snowy owl, before sending her on her way.

Hari found Sirius sat in front of the fireplace in a drawing room, Remus had gone out buy some essentials, he’d be back by lunchtime. Sirius took Hari outside and to the now overgrown quidditch pitch, luckily, they wouldn’t spend much time on the grass below. There was a shed nearby from which Sirius produced some older model Nimbus, he also produced a rather old looking pouch with a practice snitch.

“Seekers match?” Hari asked, hopeful.

“Of course!” Sirius exclaimed. “I was never a match to ol’ James but I’m sure I can keep you busy.”

They decided to take turns on the Firebolt after Hari won the first three goes without breaking a sweat, even then Hari still beat him quite soundly.

“Okay, okay!” Sirius surrendered, “You win, you have thoroughly embarrassed an old man.” They both flew to the ground in lazy spirals.

Hari snorted.

“You’re hardly old, Sirius.”

“If you’re going to beat me, you could at least let me use my age as an excuse.” Sirius scolded with false grump.

Remus called from the kitchen then, summoning the two for lunch, they sat and ate their fill, talking around their food and laughing at bad jokes.

Hari was sat in family wing drawing room, her summer homework lay in front of her, completely ignored in favour of tapping the end of her quill against her chin. She was a live wire of anxiety; her leg jumping underneath the table as she turned to every sound and movement. Remus had rather ambitiously suggested that Hari try and get started on her potions essay after lunch, they had an hour or so before they expected Mary.

After forty minutes of sitting in front of her parchment and textbooks, Hari wouldn’t be able to tell you the essay topic if her life depended on it. Instead, Hari was busy jumping at every creak of the floorboards, turning her head at every sigh from Padfoot as he slept on the sofa.

Just as Hari was about to cave and grab her broom to burn off all her nervous energy, there was a loud ring of a door bell.

Remus and Padfoot turned to the sound, if Hari had been paying attention, she would have laughed at canine-like tilt of their heads the two men did. Instead, she jumped to her feat and ran to the front door, yelling a frantic ‘I’ll get it’. She leapt down the main stairs and pulled the door open before her anxiety got the better of her.

Stood outside was the most beautiful woman Hari had ever seen. Mary Mcdonald had a thick dark brown hair as curly as Hermione’s, but tied back neatly into a bun. Her eyes were large and dark, but seemed to brighten with her big smile, crinkling in the corners. She was the same age as Sirius and Remus, but she looked much younger than both men, her dark skin looked unblemished.

When Hari first threw open the door; she’d jumped with surprise, but she was now smiling wide, her eyes gleaming.

“Hari?” She asked, “I’m Mary McDonald. I’m so very happy to meet you.”

Chapter 11: Everything is Wrong

Chapter Text

“Hari?” She asked, “I’m Mary McDonald. I’m so very happy to meet you.”

“Hi!” Hari responded, breathless and wide eyed, “I’m Hari.”

Mary’s smile softened.

“Hi Hari.” She said kindly, “Can I come in?”

“Yes!” Hari burst, stumbling back to let the woman in, “Come in. Have you been here before?” She asked as Mary passed over the threshold.

“Once or twice, a long time ago.” Mary answered she glanced around the entry hall, fingering the strap of her purse slung over her shoulder.

“Would you like tea?” Hari asked, “We’re in… one of the rooms, the family drawing room! That’s what Sirius called it.” Hari eventually announced, she was most certainly not used to having a drawing room, never mind multiple.

“That would be lovely.” Mary said, “Show me the way?”

Hari led Mary up the stairs and down the hallway to the family wing.

“How have you settled in? I’m sure Sirius has given you the grand tour.” Mary queried.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I haven’t seen the whole thing. Only got here yesterday and it’s a bit much, honestly.” Hari explained.

“I’m sure, a lot has changed very quickly for you.” Mary said with a sympathetic glance, Hari avoided it, which wasn’t easy to do; Mary was a short woman and only a few inches taller than Hari.

“Eh, I’m used to it.” Hari shrugged, then gestured to the room ahead of them. “Remus and Sirius are just in here.”

Sirius greeted the woman with a hug that lifted her off the ground, whilst Remus called a warm hello.

“I was just going to get tea.” Hari said, turning to leave the room.

“No, you’re not.” Sirius dismissed with a flick of his wrist, “I’ll go do that, you lot sit and gossip.”

Then with a wave Sirius bounded out the room to fetch tea and biscuits, Remus sat back on his spot on his and Sirius’s sofa, and Mary perched on the one opposite, whilst Hari dropped herself legs crossed on the floor. It was a strategic spot; she was closer to the coffee table and therefore first dibs on any biscuits, and also closest to the door if she decided to flee.

Mary gave an amused smile at seeing Hari sat on the floor but didn’t say anything.

“Hari was just telling me she hasn’t had the tour yet, I’m surprised Sirius has managed to restrain himself.” Mary commented to Remus, who rolled his eyes but smiled fondly.

“We’ve had a chat.” Remus assured her, before turning to Hari. “Sirius can get a little over excited, I’m sure you’ve picked up on that.”

Hari tilted her head in consideration a moment, she wasn’t sure she liked talking about Sirius whilst he was out of the room; she’d only known the man a month or so, but she felt a rather strong need to defend him. She liked him, he was fun, not like other boring adults who enforced rules or homework, or who ignored Hari when she needed help.

Remus was better than other adults as well, but in comparison to Sirius he was quite well, serious.

“I don’t mind, we’ve been playing a lot of quidditch.” Hari told Mary, “I’ve won every time.” She couldn’t help but boast.

“Remus told me you made seeker! I hear you’re pretty good?” Mary asked.

“Well,” Hari felt sheepish, “I mean I’m pretty good, I’ve only not caught the snitch twice since I started, and one was because of a dementor so I don’t think that counts.” Hari argued.

“I’m certain I remember you telling Mr Diggory that he would have caught the snitch even if it weren’t for the dementor.” Remus remined with a co*ck brow, Hari flushed.

“It was extenuating circ*mstances!” Hari argued, thanking Hermione telepathically for expanding her vocabulary. “There’s no way of knowing for sure…”

Mary and Remus chuckled.

Sirius returned with a tray of bourbons, custard creams and tea. Hari took great pleasure in opening the sandwich biscuits up and eating the cream as the adults chatted, occasionally Mary would ask Hari a question, usually about school or her friends. Hari talked about Hermione and Ron and the whole Weasley clan, all her friends at Gryffindor and the few scattered outside their house, she elected not to mention Malfoy.

“So, how was Remus as a Professor, Hari?” Mary asked eventually, “He was always…”

“A swot.” Sirius finished for her around a mouthful of biscuits.

“Well, yes.” Mary said with an apologetic smile at Remus, “He was the top of most our classes – all the ones your mum didn’t beat him in at least, and he was prefect with her in fifth year as well.”

“Professor Lup- Remus was the best defence professor we ever had.” Hari said honestly, “It might not be saying much cus y’know, one was a death eater best mates with Voldemort, and the other was an idiot who melted all the bones in my arm.” She rolled her eyes, “But even so his lessons were the best, and he taught me my patronous!” Hari told Mary excitedly, her godmother didn’t look as excited as she thought she would be, Hari hesitated before glancing to Remus and Sirius.

“Did I say something wrong again?” She asked quietly.

The three adults all jumped to reassure her, with ‘No’s and ‘Of course not’s sent her way.

“We’re just-“ Remus started. “A lot of things of happened in a very short amount of time, Hari. A lot of things that shouldn’t have happened, that make us worry, but that’s not your fault.”

“Yeah kiddo, you’ve not done or said anything wrong.” Sirius continued, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees as he spoke. “But we do want to make sure that this kind of sh*t stops happening to you.”

“Don’t worry about upsetting any of us, as your adults it’s our job to listen to the scary or bad stuff, as well as the good.” Mary added.

Hari stared down at her hands, feeling very small and a little overwhelmed, she just nodded.

Mary stayed for dinner, which Hari didn’t have to make, and once again Sirius wouldn’t let her wash the dishes, only allowing her to dry up when she insisted.

Then it was time for Mary to say goodbye, returning back to her husband and two sons, who Hari learnt were seven and five, Sam and Daniel. Mary had laughed when Hari had told her how normal their names were, telling her it would be best not to say that to them when she brought them next time. Hari’s excitement at meeting Mary’s sons was only slightly dampened when Remus told her that they’d likely be too young to play quidditch with her.

“So you’ll come back soon?” Hari asked as Mary slipped her boots back on.

“If you’d like that, Hari.” Mary replied. “Just let Remus know and he can floo call me, he’s got my number as well if you lot manage to set up a landline.”

Then Hari was being pulled into gentle hug that smelt like cocoa butter.

“It was very good to meet you finally.” Mary said with a final squeeze, Hari returned the embrace, then stepped back as Remus and Sirius also got their hugs goodbye.

When Mary apparated back to her flat, she found Joseph sat at the kitchen table, her husband smiled at her.

“How was it?” He asked, standing to put the kettle on, readying two mugs for tea.

“It was-“ But she stopped, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh Joe, I met her, I met Hari.” Her eyes burned with tears – she couldn’t get the words out, but she didn’t need to. Joe had his arms wrapped around her in a moment, his large hand stroking her back.

“I know, my love, I know.” He soothed as Mary cried, and all she could think of was Lilly, that Lilly would never meet Mary’s husband, or her sons. How Lilly used to hug her when she cried, of Lilly’s laugh and smile and her eyes. Lilly’s green eyes, they were still here, a small piece of Lilly and James, back in the shape of the wonderful young girl that was her godchild.

The next day, Hari learnt that her late grandfather – Fleamont Potter, she discovered – was a worse book addict than Hermione. His rooms were the first they explored, and they were far more like a library than anything else, the first room seemed to have bookshelves for walls, as well as furniture. She suspected that there may be a table underneath, but she couldn’t be sure. There was a selection of armchairs, but only two appeared to be used for sitting on, one that sat low with a book over the arm, and another high back with a cigar burn on the left side.

Hari walked over to the book saved open, Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles, there was ink in the margins around a chapter titled Muggle Parenting.

“That’s Euphie’s chair.” Sirius answered the unasked question from the doorway. “She didn’t read as much as Monty, but when she did it would be in that chair next to him.”

“She was reading about how muggles raise their children.” Hari said, turning to the voice, he looked surprised, then chuckled.

“That sounds like her, always overprepared, James’s mum.” He said.

“She was worried I might be a squib?” Hari asked.

“Nah.” Sirius dismissed, coming into the room with a shrug. “Just wanted to be ready in case you were, she wouldn’t have cared how you turned out. She’d love you even if you came out with horns and a tail.”

Hari looked back to the neat cursive squeezed into the side of the page, she’d underlined ‘primary school’ with question mark on the side. Hari felt her eyes sting.

“How did they die?” She asked.

Sirius’s relaxed posture tensed, he scratched at the stubble on his chin as he answered. “Dragon pox, nasty stuff. It happened fast, healers could do f*ck all.” He sounded cold and angry.

Hari nodded, then placed the book down, exactly how she found it.

“Are you alright, pup?” Sirius asked when he noticed the sore red around Hari’s eyes. “A stupid question I know but…”

Hari nodded again, she couldn’t speak, if she spoke, she would cry and she was so tired of crying.

“C’mon, let’s do something fun.” Sirius said, his tone switching like the drop of a hat, eager to change the subject, to get away from all the sad.

They decided to take a break from the family rooms for the rest of the week, instead Sirius took great pleasure in showing Hari around the rest of the manor. It was ridiculous how much space there was, there was a drawing room on each floor, two dining halls, a duelling room, two studies a library and a bloody ball room. Hari listened as Sirius told her stories of pranks and other mischief that took place in each of the impressive rooms.

It was easier to see the house like this, without being confronted with the so deeply personal aspects. When Sirius had pointed to a study on the second floor, mentioning the portraits that hung there, Hari quickly moved on to ask about a scorch mark on the ceiling in the corridor. Sirius took the hint and told her about the day that Remus had snuck a potion into James’s tea that set his hair on fire whenever he got angry. Sirius laughed as he remembered watching James stomp through the halls, hair ablaze shouting for the ‘stupid bloody wolf’.

Hari had decided to make the guest room into hers permanently, and so Remus and Sirius (covered in glamours, but still recognizable in his thick wool suit, even in 21 C temperatures) took Hari to York, they decided to stay in the muggle part of the city, just in case. They shopped for furniture for Hari’s room, she had argued that the fixings already in the room would be more than enough, but Remus and Sirius had both insisted that they let them help her personalise it. Eventually she relented, mostly because Sirius started shopping for himself as well, it was difficult not to be enthused when seeing the thirty something year old man jumping excitedly with a Sega Genesis tight in his grasp.

“Sirius, the house doesn’t have a television.” Remus reminded him gently, “Or electricity, even.”

“Details, details Moony.” Sirius brushed off the comment. “It can’t be too hard to figure out, Lily managed to get a lamp working at Hogwarts.” He reminded him. Remus rolled his eyes, deciding not to push the argument.

Hari wondered about writing Hermione about it, she was sure she’d have thought about it already.

Whilst Remus and Sirius dug around in an old looking records store, Hari wondered through a few clothing shops, she hadn’t ever been clothing shopping before. Apart from getting her Hogwarts robes from diagon every summer, she’d always just been passed on Dudley’s and Aunt Petunia’s old clothes. It left her mostly unsure of what she liked to wear, she was certainly tired of trainers that were too big and ugly old skirts, but that didn’t leave much left.

She ended up with a pair of new trainers, she skimmed past a shop that seemed to focus entirely on girls clothes, but quickly grew unsure of herself, surrounded by other girls her age who all looked so much more… girly-er than her. Overwhelmed, she left and found her way to a Waterstones, she didn’t really want any books, but the book shop reminded her of Flourish and Blotts and she needed to search for a birthday present for Hermione anyway.

By the end of the day, Remus had shrunken the Sega, a new TV, and an obscene amount of games that Hari recognised from Dudley’s last birthday, and was carrying them diligently for his partner.

They’d also picked up a textbook - Electrical Technology - that looked rather large and overly complicated, especially when between the three of them Hari’s primary school education on how light bulbs worked, made her the most qualified ‘electricalition’ (as Sirius had dubbed her) amongst them.

Hari had found a book about miner's unions, which she thought Hermione might appreciate for her research on house elf rights, she also found a book on the British Railway system that Arthur Weasley would love.

When they arrived home, Hari was surprised to be greeted by a grey owl sat on the entry way awning. Open seeing her it dropped a letter in her outstretched hands, she wasn’t expecting a reply so soon, Hedwig had only returned that morning. Dumping her new trainers and books on the bed she tore into the letter; it was from Cedric.

Dear Harriet,

I hope you don’t mind me writing to you, I meant to ask you before the end of term but never found the chance.

Is your summer going well? I’m spending it with my parents in Ottery St Mary, though mum’s rented a caravan for us in Cornwall to the end of July. Do you have any plans?

I heard the Weaslsey’s are going to the world cup in August, are you joining them? I’m pretty certain my dad’s bought us tickets as a surprise for my birthday, maybe I’ll see you there? If not are you visiting them at all? If you are maybe we could have a quidditch game at some point, I usually see Fred and George at some point anyway, being as we’re practically neighbours.

Best wishes,

Cedric Diggory.

Hari felt her cheeks warm at the letter, then quickly ran to her desk to pen a reply.

Cedric,

Of course, I don’t mind, I usually don’t get to write much over the summer but this year I’m able to, so I plan on doing it any chance I get.

The Weasley’s have kindly invited me to join them for the world cup, then after I’m spending the last week of the summer with them, so even if we don’t see each other at the game I can take you up on that match. Maybe you can borrow my Firebolt, seeing as you let me use your broom this year. I am still very grateful; Oliver would have wrung my neck if I hadn’t played.

Do you usually visit Cornwall in the summer? I’ve never been but I’ve heard it’s nice. Will you see anyone from Hogwarts aside from the Weasleys?

Best wishes,

Hari.

Hari put the letter away in her desk, fighting the temptation to send Hedwig off with it immediately, she should wait to send all her letters together, considering most of them were going to the same village anyway it seemed. Besides, she had some owl ordering to do.

The next week was spent with Hari, Sirius and Remus working on their limited knowledge to get electricity in the ancient wizard house. The text book they’d bought was dense and used terms Hari was not nearly familiar with, but with the three of them putting their heads together they managed to grasp a fairly rudimentary understanding of how at least some of the new appliances worked.

“We should test on a light bulb first.” Hari suggested. “Like mum did, so we don’t end up breaking anything.”

“Now that’s a good idea.” Sirius nodded, he then slipped the console he was holding safely back into it’s box.

They broke 4 lamps in the first day, fortunately Remus’s anxiety meant he had already had his wand ready with a protego. Sirius was in charge of producing the energy with his own wand – recovered from his old room in the house – whilst Hari read from the book and dictated how much to generate and where to put it.

By the second day, they had managed to work out how much magical energy was needed to keep a light on without exploding the bulb. Hari and Remus had created a rudimentary conversion chart, for how many Watts of energy translated into magical energy, much like all other wizard currencies – it was mostly nonsensical.

On the third day Sirius and Hari went to a hardware store to buy wiring and solder, whilst Remus visited diagon alley in search for a magic conduit that they could use as something to store the magical energy.

On day four they had managed to create a monstrous looking box, covered in runes and spilling out copper and coated haphazardly in rubber – a vague attempt at preventing them from electrocuting themselves. Remus and Hari watched anxiously, shield charm at the ready, as Sirius taped his wand on their contraption, it glowed menacingly as the desk lamp attached to it began to flicker with light.

Sirius and Hari let out whoops of success... and then it caught on fire.

A moderate success then.

It was a start.

Two days and four fires – and one mild electrocution later, they had a mostly functional magical generator that – when under the correct stasis charms – could power Sirius’s game boy.

They celebrated with a Street Fighter II tournament that ended with both Hari and Sirius sulking, and Remus trying not to look too smug.

Hari wrote to Hermione about their success on the project – she had been equal parts concerned and delighted to hear about the experiment, and asked for Hari to show her blueprints for their invention. Hari wasn’t sure how to break it to her friend that there were no blueprints, and that it was mostly held together with spellotape and hope.

Ron responded to Hari’s letter with boundless excitement about the world cup, and plans for what they’d do afterwards at the Burrow, not so subtly begging Hari to bring her Firebolt with her. Ginny added a note complaining about her brothers, she seemed to be spending a lot of time at Luna’s to escape the chaos. Luna asked Hari if Sirius got fleas as a dog, and if he were friends with any of them. Hari had no idea how to respond, given that she hadn’t mentioned her god father to Luna at all. The only person that new where she was and who she was with was Hermione, and that was from subtext alone. Hari replied saying she had no idea what she meant, but that she thought most people would be offended by that question – animagi or no.

Malfoy also responded, sending the ridiculously pretentious eagle.

Potter,

Thank you for your letter, I am quite well. I’m glad you’re able to write this summer, though I am disappointed to miss out on all that Surrey has to offer, it sounded like such a delightful place.

I believe I remember you telling me about your new friends, I should hope they are providing safe and decent company. My family do in fact own villa’s in both France and Italy, is that judgement I read in your tone? If so I’ll have to reconsider bringing you a gift back, I should hate to offend you by rubbing my family’s vast wealth in your face.

Pansy and Millicent will join me in Italy, Blaise and his mother reside there permanently, so no doubt we shall see him as well. Greg and Vincent will likely come for dinners as well, their parents are work colleagues of father. Will you stay with the Weasley’s at all, and will you see Granger? It is difficult to imagine you without at least one of the two attached at your hip.

I had planned to attend the world cup final with father, he was invited to join the Minister in the VIP box, so it is unlikely we will see each other, unless you manage to put that ‘The-Girl-Who-Lived’ influence to some use for once.

Frankly I’m delighted to hear your father was a Tornadoes fan, if he were able to see sense then perhaps you aren’t a complete lost cause.

I was indeed aware that Sirius BLACK brother to Regulus BLACK was a relation of mine, through my mother Narcissa Malfoy Nee BLACK. It doesn’t require much a stretch of the imagination to decipher that. Fortunately, for you that doesn’t make you and I related, if it were, I would be forced to break the devastating news that Regulus Black is my godfather (though don’t bring that up around my father, he gets awfully upset about it). Would that make him your god-second-cousin? A goduncle perhaps? I’m sure he would be delighted to hear that his favourite student is also his god-niece.

Anyway, if you are where I think you are, you should look for you family’s genealogy book, all pureblood families have one, it will be in a study or grand hall somewhere, probably encased in glass and approximately three thousand protection charms on it. You may find something interesting in it, or you can burn it as a rebellion against wizard societies elitist and archaic ideologies, your choice.

Regards,

Malfoy.

Hari couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the dry humour pouring from the pages, with a smirk she replied.

Malfoy,

I’m glad to hear you are keeping well, but I am sorry to hear you were so excited to visit me, only for me to so thoroughly disappoint you. Perhaps we can arrange for a trip to Surrey another time, I can show you such wonderful sights like: the corner shop, and the other corner shop and of course our world famous third corner shop.

I appreciate your concern and can assure you I am quite safe, I have only been cursed thrice so far. As for gifts from Italy, I should think it only fair that you bring me back something very expensive and delicious as reparations for the hardships of half-blood kind.

I plan on staying with the Weasley’s after the world cup, Hermione is joining us, it is important I see them else I forget how to feed and dress myself without their assistance. I am quite offended that you would insinuate I would use the tragedies of the first war for my own advantage, and I cannot believe you would be so crass.

I did however give Mr Weasley free rein to drop my name into conversation if it might smooth the process somewhat, for efficacy’s sake of course.

Did I misread or did you say Black was your GODFATHER as well as your cousin? I cannot believe you have withheld this information from me for so long, no wonder your marks are never below an O, nepotism at its finest I say. I think I shall refrain from revealing my distant relation to our most beloved potions professor, I fear he may become so overcome with emotion he may combust.

I will keep an eye out for the book you mentioned, and will be sure to let you know if I find anything scandalous.

Potter.

With all her letters written, as well as an owl order, Hari sent Hedwig away again.

Hari found Remus ini his usual spot - lounged on a sofa in the living room, with Padfoot curled around his legs as a dog, Hari plopped herself down; opening her homework on the coffee table. They sat in quiet for a while, Padfoot snoring softly whilst Remus turned the pages of his book and Hari frowned over her potions work for the summer. Bloody Black setting an essay, evil bastard.

“Did you know that Professor Black is Dulcinea Malfoy’s godfather?” Hari asked without thought, Remus looked up from his book and shrugged.

“I’m not that familiar with the Malfoy or Black family, apart from this idiot.” He answered scratching behind Sirius’s ear affectionately. “I didn’t think you were either, if I’m honest.” He added after a beat.

“Oh yeah, me and Malfoy are…. Friends, sort of.” Hari said with a shrug, she didn’t know why her cheeks got hot.

“Really? I’d gotten the impression the two of you hated each other, wasn’t she one of the girls you and Hermione scrapped with?” Remus asked.

“It’s complicated, her dad - he’s a bit…”

“Of a royal bastard?” Sirius offered stretching out of his dog shape.

“Yeah, he’s a proper Voldy fan.” Hari explained, “He was the one that gave Ginny Weasley his diary in second year.”

“Lucius Malfoy gave Ginny his diary?” Remus asked, confused.

“No.” Hari said with a shake of her head. “He gave her Tom Riddle’s diary, Voldemort’s. Then Tom possessed her to open the Chamber of Secrets and get his basilisk out, it started petrifying people, he got ‘Mione even. Me and Ron stopped it, I killed it with the sword of Gryffindor, it bit me but Dumbledore’s phoenix cried on the bite, so it healed. Then Gildaroy Lockhart tried to obliviate me and Ron, with Ron’s wand – but it was broken so the spell backfired, he’s still in St Mungo’s now.” Hari frowned as she thought about it, it really was a bit mad, looking back. When she turned to see Remus and Sirius’s reactions, she realised that may have been an understatement.

“Did… did Dumbledore know about all this? How did you even…” Remus began to speak, Sirius remained very quiet.

“Yeah ‘course. He’s the one that sent his phoenix with the sword so I could kill the snake. Oh!” Hari remembered. “The diary was destroyed, so don’t worry about that, I stabbed it with the basilisk fang that had got stuck in my arm. It must have been linked to Tom still, it bled when I did, it seemed to hurt him a lot too.”

“He was there?” Sirius finally asked, his voice sounding strained.

“Yeah, did you know his name was Tom Marvolo Riddle? He said it’s an anagram for ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ we thought it was silly for him to include the ‘I am’ in the anagram, but-“ She cut herself off with a shrug. Then went silent, Remus and Sirius both looked really angry.

“It’s not that big a deal.” She argued, they both just stared at her. “Really, Ginny’s fine now, so’s ‘Mione. Lockhart isn’t but, but we didn’t mean for that to happen, he – we didn’t want to hurt him. It wasn’t like with Quirrell.”

“What happened with Quirrell?” Sirius asked, quietly.

“It wasn’t- It’s not that big a deal, guys!” Hari argued desperately, she felt her breath coming fast, her heart beating heavy in her chest. “Don’t- I didn’t know it would – Dumbledore said! He said it was fine, he said it happened because of mum! He said she loved me so much that it meant I could- that I could-“

She didn’t mean to kill him. She didn’t know. There wasn’t any blood, he was just dust. Her hands were clean, she looked down at them, they were clean. She’d gotten the dust out from her nails. She’d scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, he wasn’t there anymore. Hari didn’t realise she was sobbing now. Dumbledore told her she did what she had to, that she saved Hogwarts. She saved them. She killed Voldemort again, and again and again. She saved them.

Hari didn’t know when Sirius had moved to her, but all of a sudden, strong arms were wrapped tight around her. She was warm, she was safe, he wasn’t there.

Her hands were clean now.

Sirius was saying something.

“I’m so sorry, pup.” He was crying now, why was he crying? It’s a good thing, she did a good thing. She told them both as much.

Remus met her gaze over Sirius’s shoulder, he was crying as well.

“It isn’t right that you had to do it, you’re just a child.”

“I was a baby when I killed him the first time.”

Sirius held her tighter, but it didn’t feel like smothering, it felt like being held.

“Never again, Hari.” He whispered, “You will never have to face him on your own, do you understand? It’s the job of us, of the adults to protect you. Not the other way round.” Hari shook her head, no that’s wrong. She was the Girl Who Lived, she was the one who stopped Voldemort.

Why didn’t they understand?

“You don’t get it… my mum died to protect me, and now I have this… connection to Voldemort because of it.” Hari said, she pulled away from Sirius to wring her hands. “If I don’t… if I don’t use it to stop him, then she died for nothing. Mum and dad, they’d be gone for nothing.

“Hari no.” Remus said, aghast. “They didn’t die because they thought you’d go on to destroy Him, they died because they wanted to protect their daughter, they wanted you to live, to be happy and safe. That’s what they gave their lives for, nothing else.” He implored, unwilling to let her eyes go from his intense gaze.

“They never wanted this for you Hari,” She turned to Sirius now as he spoke. “They had plans to leave, they were going to flee the country, get away from the war. You mattered far more to them than anything.”

Hari’s gaze fell to the floor. But they were Gryffindor, Gryffindors are brave and honourable, they didn’t run from a fight, they barrelled through, they died to save others. For the greater good. The three of them sat in silence for a long while, letting Hari process it all, after what felt like forever, she finally spoke.

“It’s not all bad.” Hari said, casually. “Since I started Hogwarts, Gryffindor has one the house point cup every year.”

They fell into broken little laughs.

Chapter 12: I Still Got Love For You

Chapter Text

Mary had come round a few times since Hari first met her, usually for lunch or tea, sometimes she’d sit with Remus whilst Hari and Sirius played quidditch. Other times they’d all make dinner together – Remus trying to control the chaos as Sirius tried new and innovative ways to destroy the kitchen with magic, whilst Hari sight at the table peeling carrots with barely contained glee as Mary goaded Sirius on.

Sometimes she’d stay after dinner, and after Hari had gone to bed, she’d hear laughing drifting down the halls as the adults drank larger and told stories from Hogwarts. Other days Hari would come downstairs to see Mary and Remus explaining the plot of some muggle TV show, Sirius would be bored and tease them both about it. Hari thought it reminded her of Ron, when he’d make fun of Hermione and Hari for things they liked but he didn’t understand, it made her miss her friends sorely.

Once, Hari had gone to Mary’s house, a flat in Havering - on the other side of London to the house in Surrey that his Aunt and Uncle sat. It was a full moon and Remus and Sirius had left the Potter Manor to stay at the cottage in Wales, a place Hari had yet to see.

She didn’t understand why Remus insisted on spending the full moon on the other side of the country to Hari, she’d understood that the night at the shrieking shack had been a fluke, but Remus liked to worry. Hari was certain that if he could put an ocean between himself and any other living creature on the full moon, he would. But travel restrictions for werewolves were strict, so he settled for miles of land instead. Of course, Sirius was the exception, which seemed to be a running theme Hari noticed, she wondered how many arguments the two men had had growing up, she was certain it had taken a momentous effort in Sirius’s part to allow himself to be there for the full moons at all.

Hari had asked about becoming an animagus, whether it was something Sirius could teach her, she’d made the mistake however, of asking in front of Remus. The stern former professor had shut down the discussion immediately, making it clear in no uncertain terms that Hari would never, under any circ*mstances, spend the full moon with them, especially by committing magical crimes to achieve it. Hari had sulked for a few days, until she found a text book on her desk titled Animagi – A discussion of the art of body transfiguration - with a note scribbled in the margins in Sirius’s now familiar tidy cursive Homework best kept from Professor Lupin. Hari had never voluntarily finished a book faster in her life.

But that would take time, year even, so for the mean time, Hari spent the full moon with Mary and her family.

Mary’s husband Joseph – Hari had asked if she’d married him because of his name, to which Mary had laughed and told her people asked them that all the time, Hari noted she did not answer the question – was a large man, he had a shaved head and a dark curly beard that he kept short, his large hands were rough on the palms when he offered to shake hers, his dark hand encasing her brown fingers completely. Hari had been somewhat intimated at first, sticking close to Mary’s side as he spoke, his voice deep and loud, filling the corners of the room. But when Sam and Daniel arrived home from school, Hari watched the giant of a man soften to putty as he hugged his two sons, introducing them proudly to Hari. Sam was ten and yet only a few inches shorter than Hari at fourteen, he smiled shyly and asked Hari if she liked football within ten seconds off meeting her. Daniel on the other hand was loud and boisterous, unable to sit still as he bounced on his feet, or spun on the spot whilst he spoke, grinning to show off the gaps where he’d lost his first baby tooth.

It was overwhelming at first, not unlike visiting the Weasleys the first time in second year, but just like then, Hari quickly felt her nerves settle as she ate a dinner of chicken and some kind of spicy tomato-y rice that Joseph – Joe he liked to be called – had made.

“Mama says you go to that magicy Pigfarts school.” Daniel had shouted over a mouthful of peppers.

“It’s Hogwarts, idiot.” Sam had scolded, glaring at the mess his brother was making.

“Don’t talk to your brother like that, Sam.” Mary corrected him with a stern gaze.

“Sorry Mama,” Sam said, then turned to his brother. “Sorry Daniel.” Daniel stuck out his tongue.

“I think Pigfarts would be a better name.” Hari interjected before the boys started arguing, “I mean, once, there was a troll in the dungeons, and they are so smelly.” Hari began as the boys latched their attention on to her every word, “They haven’t been able to get rid of the stink since. Oh- and the owlry as well! It definitely smells like pig farts.” Hari pinched her nose and wafted dramatically, pleases when the boys laughed.

“But you guys will be able to see for yourselves when you go, only a year or so left for you, Sam.” Hari went on.

“Actually,” Mary said with a cough, “Sam and Daniel aren’t going to Hogwarts.” She said with a patient smile, “They’re going to learn with me if they need it.” Hari frowned.

“I thought all wizards had to go to Hogwarts?” She asked, Mary shrugged.

“Not legally, home schooling is quite common, besides, the boys like their muggle schools.”

“They don’t have football at Hogwarts, mama said.” Sam informed her sagely, and Daniel nodded enthusiastically.

“They don’t do history either!” The younger boy emphasised, “We’re doing the Romans this week, they’re wicked.”

Hari tilted her head as she watched the younger kids chatter and eat happily, completely unperturbed at the fact that they would never go to Hogwarts. It was such a strange thing to hear for Hari, who would have given anything at their age to be able to go. It was a school for magic! A place away from the boring rubbish of muggle life, of cruel aunts, angry uncles and annoying cousins. It made Hari wonder if Hermione had ever missed her muggle life, she knew she missed her parents often, and some of her friends from primary school, but did she ever miss muggle things, like taking the bus or studying maths or science. Did she miss walking home from school to eat dinner with her parents?

This questions circled around in Hari’s for the rest of evening. It was around nine pm that Mary apparated her back to the manor.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay Hari? I’m more than happy to.” Mary offered again; but Hari shook her head; it might have been daunting for most to stay in such a big house on her own, but there was something about the manor, the magic in the ancient stone perhaps, that left Hari feeling safe within it’s walls, no matter what.

“That’s okay, Remus said they’d be back early anyways.” Hari assured her with a shrug. Mary nodded.

“Alright then, sweetheart. But you let me know if you need me, okay? We’re not on the floo network but you can still fire call.” She assured her, Hari only nodded again, frowning at the ground in contemplation.

“You don’t like magic very much.” Hari said into the quiet of the night, she hadn’t really meant to, but the words came out regardless. Mary hummed in response, Hari looked up to the other woman but she wasn’t offended or cross like she’d thought she might be, she just looked rather sad.

“Magic has-“ She paused. “It has brought so many good things, I loved my time in Hogwarts, with Lily and Marlene, with the boys. But it also hurt me.” Mary met Hari’s gaze, the pain she spoke of so clear in the lines around her eyes, the slight upturn in her mouth. “Being a muggle born can be challenging, especially then, with the war… and then I lost so much, Marlene and Dorcas, Lily and James, Sirius, Peter, you.” Mary sighed. “I don’t want my sons to be treated like I was, I don’t want them to be swept up in it all – I don’t want to lose anymore.”

“But you got Sirius back, I’m back.” Hari said, “You wouldn’t have known any of us without it.”

“You’re right.” Mary conceded, “Which is why I can’t bring myself to hate it, to wish it gone completely, I did once, but not anymore.” She paused again. “I don’t want my boys hurt by it, my job as their mum is to keep them safe, and Hogwarts, the magical world – it isn’t safe, not right now.”

Hari nodded, turning her gaze to the moon that hung large and heavy in the sky.

“If- if I’d lived with you, after mum and dad died, would you have let me go to Hogwarts?” Hari asked.

“No.” Mary answered, without a beat of hesitation, Hari dropped her eyes back to her in surprise. “Like I said, my job is keeping my children safe, I wouldn’t have let them take you there.”

Hari considered for a moment.

“I would have hated you for it.” She said, because it was true, she felt it in her bones. Even if Hari had been happy with Mary, loved her like a mother, nothing and no one would stop her from Hogwarts, from magic.

“Probably.” Mary said with a smile, “I was so young then, so frightened and angry – I don’t think I would have been the best mum to you, if I’m honest.” She seemed sheepish in her answer. “I would have tried my best though, with what I had.”

“I know.” Hari said, returning the smile. “Do you think Remus would have lived with us?”

Mary considered this a moment.

“Eventually,” She began, “He was in a bad place then, he would have needed time, but he would.”

Hari imagined it for a moment, what her childhood might have been if she’d lived with Mary and Remus after her parents died, grown up with them as her family. She found the ache in her chest still throbbed, that grief for the life she never had, but it was lesser somehow. She felt some sort of acceptance, that maybe it was okay she didn’t have that then, because she had them now, she had the family she’d always wanted, even if it looked a little different than what she expected.

“Thank you.” She said eventually, not really sure why, but it felt right. Mary smiled and hugged her tight, kissing her head as she wished her good night.

Hari and Sirius sat on the floor in front of the TV, smashing their controllers with a border line violent enthusiasm, resorting to dirty tactics in attempts to get one over the other. They hardly noticed as Remus came into the drawing room, it was the one in the family wing just above the kitchen, they rarely left that side of the manor. With only three of them, there wasn’t much need for the rest of the space.

“Have you two been at it all afternoon?” Remus said with a resigned sigh.

“It’s afternoon?” Hari asked, spamming the buttons in an attempt at a combo, whilst Sirius jutted his elbow out to try and distract her, but it was in vain as Sirius avatar tragically had it’s spine torn out.

“How did you do that?!” Sirius demanded huffing with rage. “Mum! She’s cheating!” He whined, pointing an accusatory finger in Hari’s direction.

“You sore loser!” Hari exclaimed.

“Right.” Remus snapped, stomping over to the TV unit and spelling it all off, much to both Sirius and Hari’s devastation. “We’re going to the beach.”

It was easy to forget how warm the weather had gotten, under the Manor’s protective cooling wards. But the sun was just coming off it’s apex and the air was sweltering. Fortunately, Sirius was able to apparate again, saving them from being locked in the car for an hour. Armed with books, a water bottle and ham sandwiches, Remus dragged his two hermits from the house to Kettle Ness beach. It was difficult to access without the help of magic, so they were unlikely to encounter many people. He laid out a blanket and dropped down their things, using his wand to erect a wind guard before plopping himself down for a nap in the sun.

Remus wasn’t sure why he’d believed that Sirius and Hari would let him sleep, he was beginning to feel very much like a mother of two incredibly destructive and loud children. Not that he’d ever wish for anything different, for the brief year that he had known Hari, he had so rarely seen her act her age. And Sirius, it had been so long since he’d heard him laugh, seen him smile so carelessly. He was glad he had them both, he wasn’t sure he could bring that out in either of them, he was always a bit too serious, a bit too much of an old soul. Even when they were young, it was Sirius who had brought him out of his shell.

And so, he didn’t complain when they both dragged him to the sea to judge as they did handstands under the water, instead, he rushed over and pushed Sirius’s legs down, toppling the man down. Much to his chagrin.

“I should have known you’d bribe the judges, Hari.” He scolded the clueless teenager as she flipped back out of the water. Hari spluttered at the accusation, but Sirius ignored her in favour of kissing Remus.

“Urgh, mum and dad are kissing.” Hari said to no one in particular, before turning to swim away from the display of affection.

Remus licked the salt from Sirius’s lips, then pulled away.

“What was that for?” He asked with a grin.

“Thanks for getting us out the house. You’d think I’d be desperate to be outside, but I’m quick to forget it exists.” He answered with an embarrassed shrug.

“I’ll make sure to remind you more often.” Remus assured him, squeezing his hip gently.

“Oh sh*t, is that a shark?” Hari shouted to the pair, both of them snapped to attention, only to find her laughing at them both.

“You little sh*t!” Sirius shouted back with a grin, charging through the water towards Hari, who only laughed manically. Splashing her godfather with the salty waves. Remus joined in and found he was glad Hari couldn’t use magic outside Hogwarts, and therefor didn’t have her wand, else he was sure the water fight would escalate to catastrophic levels.

They ended the day covered in sand and salt water dried into their hair, eating chips from the cone on the Whitby pavilion as the sun pulled down over the horizon.

That night, after exhausting themselves on the beach, Hari crawled into bed after taking a long shower to rid herself of the salt and the sand. She settled into her cool sheets with a satisfied smile and fell to sleep soundly.

The next morning started just as the sun started to crawl over the horizon, and Hari was doubled over in pain. She clutched at her stomach with a whimper, at the heavy ache that settled in her abdomen, like she’d had a 2-tonne weight dropped onto her lower torso repeatedly. She tried to breath through the pain, reaching to her bedside table for her wand, but only made it so far before she cried out and recoiled back into herself. Oh God was she dying? She remembered Dean Thomas telling her about the time he had his appendix removed because it burst, he told her it felt like he’d been punched in the gut by a dragon, this wasn’t far off.

It was fine, she was fine.

She might need to go to hospital.

But she was fine.

Could she go to a muggle hospital? Wouldn’t they want to speak to her parents… would they believe that Sirius or Remus was her dad, no they’d have files wouldn’t they? Would they call Petunia? What would she do? Would she be angry and come get her, or worse, call Dumbledore and be taken away? Sirius could go back to prison, she’d have to leave them.

No, she didn’t need a hospital, she was a witch – she could magic it away.

Hari reached out her hand and fumbled for her wand again, groaning as she rolled her useless torso along. Wand in grasp she tried to remember the spell for pain relief, but did she need one for muscle ache or injury? It felt like her muscles were aching, but if her appendix had burst, that would mean she was injured…. She panicked and used both, she wasn’t sure which worked but the pain subsided, she could climb out of bed now. She hobbled up to find a blood stain on her sheets.

Panicked she pulled up her t-shirt to look at her stomach, sure she must have been bleeding from her belly, seeing her skin without wounds did little to assure her. Hari turned quickly around and saw a blood stain on her shorts.

Oh God was she having a miscarriage?!

Wait, no. You had to be pregnant to have a miscarriage, and to get pregnant you had to have sex. Hari had not had sex. Unless there was a magical way to get pregnant without sex? Oh God maybe there was, Hari’s accidental magic could get pretty bad, maybe she’d accidentally done a ‘get pregnant without sex spell’ without knowing and was now having a miscarriage.

As her panic escalated, as did Hari’s breathing, she found her chest getting unbearably tight, and found herself sat on the floor with her head between her knees as she gasped desperately for air.

That’s how Moony found her.

“Oh shi- Pup?” Mooney quickly dropped into a crouch in front of her, pulling her hands away from tearing at her hair. “Pup, look at me, breath, breath…” He let out a long breath, then took in another, gesturing her to copy. Hari did, and soon the room stopped spinning.

“Tell me what’s happened.” He prodded gently, but firm.

“Is there a spell to get pregnant without sex?” Hari asked desperately, she wasn’t sure why, but it seemed the most important thing to clear up first.

Moony stared at her with an open mouth for a moment, then let out a confused laugh.

“No Hari, there isn’t.” He assured, and Hari let out a brief sigh of relief.

“Okay, then I think I have appendicitis.” Hari said. “Is there a spell to fix it?”

“Hold on, slow down.” Remus soothed. “What are your symptoms?”

“Well I woke up and my stomach really hurt, like really bad, then I used my wand to make it stop hurting and it worked. But then I got up and there was blood, do you bleed when your appendix bursts?”

“No you don’t… Hari, where was the blood coming from?” He asked gently.

“Oh uhhh… well I thought I was having a miscarriage so…. From that general… zone.”

“Okay, and have you had your period before, Hari?”

“Oh.” Hari felt her cheeks get immediately burning hot, she was certain she had never been more embarrassed in her life. “Please don’t tell Sirius.” Was all she managed to get out.

Remus looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh, Hari appreciated it, but it did nothing to ease the humiliation of having her ex-Professor explain to her that she was not dying or pregnant, but having her first period.

“It- it’s okay Hari, I won’t tell him. Do you have… do you have the… things you need?” He asked awkwardly, Hari stared at him for a moment before she realised.

“Uh… no I don’t.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Why don’t you go get showered and I’ll pop to the shops for you, alright? Would you like me to call Mary?”

“You don’t need to bother her, I know what a period is – it was just, I panicked..” Hari stuttered then stood quickly, really wanting for Remus to go away so she could hide and never look at another human being ever again.

“She won’t feel bothered Hari, she was coming tomorrow for lunch anyway.” Remus explained, then he left her to clean herself up.

Once Hari showered, with half a roll of toilet paper in her underwear, she exited the ensuite to find a carrier bag with boxes and packs of sanitary wear and a ridiculous amount of paracetamol and various other pain relief. And beside the bag was a hot water bottle that shimmered with preservation charms, keeping the warmth in.

When Hari finally went down to breakfast, hot water bottle tucked under her shirt and held close to her tummy, she found breakfast was porridge with an obscene amount of sugar and milk. Sirius and Remus greeted her with smiles and thankfully said nothing about it.

The breakfast table was silent aside from the gentle scrape of silver on china, and the rustle of paper as Mother read the Daily Prophet. Dulcinea sipped her tea as she read her letters that morning, Pansy was coming over that afternoon, whilst Millicent was visiting her father in Paris. She was somewhat disappointed that she hadn’t received word back from Potter yet.

“Is Lucius not joining us this morning?” Regulus asked Mother, “He had told me he had urgent business to discuss.” His tone sounded annoyed.

“He had a floo call from work in his study. I’m sure he will join us soon.” Narcissa pretended she was bored, but Dulcinea could see the tenseness in her jaw, whatever that call was about, it was not good. She knew better than to ask, and it seemed Regulus did as well, he returned to his coffee in brooding silence.

“Will we have time to work on some spells today, Uncle?” Dulcinea asked the man who really was not her uncle, a second cousin once removed and her godfather, much to Lucius Malfoy’s distaste. Since the first war Regulus Black had fallen out of favour with most of pureblood society, Dulcinea didn’t know the details, only that Father named him a traitor. Still, he was the head of the Black household and with that came more money than second and third richest families combined, and a large and influential seat in the Wizengamot.

Lucius’s hatred of Regulus was well returned. Dulcinea understood why Father remained on polite working terms with Regulus, but she never understood why her godfather returned the effort. Regulus didn’t care much about politics or the Black family reputation, nor did he care about money, he had all he needed, yet he worked as a lowly Professor.

“Possibly, we shall see what your Lord father requires first.” He replied, not withholding heavy irony.

Just as Dulcinea nodded in response, a snowy white owl she had begun to recognise as Hedwig arrived, dropping a letter signed in Hari’s chicken scratch writing. She tried to school her features as she picked up the letter, Hedwig didn’t stick around for a treat - as per usual; Dulcinea guessed she had other deliveries to make for the popular Harriet Potter.

“I don’t recognise that owl.” Mother said with mild interest.

“Perhaps it’s hired, Daphne doesn’t have her own, and her father is usually using the family owl.” Dulcinea dismissed, it was enough for her mother, but Regulus was watching her keenly.

“I didn’t realise you and Miss Greengrass were close.” Regulus’s tone was even and bored, Dulcinea knew better than to trust it.

“We talk occasionally.” She replied carefully.

Conversation halted as Lucius Malfoy entered the room, Dulcinea slipped the letter on to her lap and under her skirt, she most definitely didn’t need her father to question on it. She couldn’t tell if Regulus noticed her tiny subterfuge, but she knew that even if he did he wouldn’t tell father; she could always trust him with that.

She excused herself to her room, then locked her door before opening the letter and reading it quickly.

“Idiot Potter.” She shook her head and smirked before writing a reply and sealing it carefully. Then, quietly, she pulled up a corner of the heavy Moroccan rug that laid on her floor, then lifted the loose floorboard that rested there. Once the letter was stored safely with the others, she dropped the board back down as silently as possible and placed back the carpet.

A knock on her door made her jump guiltily, she quickly rose from her feet and brushed off her skirt, she sat at her desk and pretended to be reading a letter she’d received from Daphne last week.

“Come in.” She called to the door, aiming for nonchalance.

Regulus opened the door, but did not enter.

“Your father has finished with me early, I have time for a lesson, join me in the hall.” He didn’t wait for a reply before closing the door again, she heard his pointed shoes clicking down the corridor. Dulcinea took a breath before following.

Today they worked on duelling, thanks to the wards surrounding the manor, they did not have to worry about things like the trace to prevent Dulcinea practicing magic outside of Hogwarts. Regulus, like all their lessons, did not hold back. Her father had insisted on her tutoring as soon as she was able to walk and talk, insisting she were able to reach an O.W.L level of ability by her first year at school. It was Mother who had insisted it be Regulus who taught her.

Regulus had always put Dulcinea’s academic use of magic last, instead he focused more on practical magic, specifically her abilities in defence against the dark arts. Dulcinea had always thought it paranoid and unnecessary, but after spending more time with Hari, she had learnt just how necessary it may be, and soon. After an hour of duelling Dulcinea signalled for a break, Regulus nodded and put away his wand.

“Would we be able to work on the Patronus spell?” She asked eventually.

“No.” Came the short reply.

“Why not? If Potter is able to do it, I’m sure I can manage it.” Dulcinea tried to keep the same venom she usually had when saying the other girls name, she didn’t know when it become something she had to do consciously.

“Then perhaps you could ask Miss Potter to teach you.” Regulus suggested, raising his brow with amusem*nt. Dulcinea stilled.

“Why on earth would she teach me?” She tried, but the look on her godfathers face told her he didn’t buy it for one second.

“I shan’t ask what was in the letter, but I suggest that if you continue your communications, you have her send a different owl. The snowy owl is far too recognisable.” He warned her, Dulcinea simply nodded with a nervous swallow. “Who you chose to associate with is your business, Dulcinea. But things are… changing soon.” He worded carefully, “Hogwarts will not be immune, in fact it will likely be the centre of many things, what you do there, who you trust, who you are loyal to – it will matter. I ask that you are cautious, some people are more watched than others, and it is best to remain unseen until you are ready to act.”

Dulcinea nodded again, taking the words carefully.

“Now,” He retook his position at his end of the duelling strip. “Let us continue.”

Chapter 13: Mistakes Like This

Chapter Text

On Dulcinea’s advice, Hari finally decided to venture into the family wing study, it was the room that held the family portraits, the one Hari had yet to find the courage to enter.

It was early, before Sirius would tumble out of bed, and Remus was taking his morning walk before breakfast - which really meant he was having a smoke by the river. Hari wasn’t sure why Remus hid his smoking from Sirius, when Hari knew for a fact that Sirius had a stash of cigarettes hidden in the stables for when he sat out with Buckbeak.

Regardless, she was grateful for the privacy.

Sirius came to the study quite often, usually in the evenings, Hari had walked past a few times to hear him chatting idly with the portraits she knew dwell inside. He’d offered to introduce her a few times, but Hari wanted for it to be just her the first time, it wasn't something she wanted to share with anyone else, even Sirius.

She’d been rocking on her feet for several minutes, before finally building herself up to clicking down the handle an pushing open the door.

The study was dark, the curtains kept closed to protect the books inside, she hung in the doorway for a little longer, observing the room. A minute later and she was ready to take her first step, as soon as her slippered foot was through the threshold, the curtains tugged open and the room came to life.

A cacophony of sound erupted from the western wall, voices greeting her in accents and languages she couldn’t place. Hari stood in stunned quiet as around twenty portraits full of people with skin and noses and hair and smiles like hers nattered on, demanding her attention.

“Oh, do be quiet!” Called an authoritative voice in English, and what Hari guessed was an Indian accent. “Come on in, kanmani.”

Hari took another step forward, her eyes landing on the image of an older woman, sat in the middle of the third row of portraits. She had thick brown hair, with gently streaks of silver and grey scattered throughout, it fell in a long curtain across her shoulders. Hari's eyes were drawn to a glittering gold chain, that threaded from the woman's nose to her ear, it moved with her, emphasising as she tiled her head in curiosity. Her skin was dark, darker than Hari's, and smooth everywhere apart from around her rich brown eyes, where laugh lines crinkeled in the corners. She was one of the most beautiful people Hari had ever seen.

“H-hello, miss.” Hari greeted sheepishly.

“Some nerve you have, waiting a full month to come see us.” The witch scolded her; Hari looked down at her feet. “Well, let me have a look at you. Yes, you’re definitely a Vandayar. Oh and you have dear Lily’s eyes.” The portrait scrutinised Hari’s features, her deep brown eyes taking in the young girl before her. “Harriet?”

Hari felt her throat close.

“I prefer Hari, miss.”

“Hari then, well I am Euphemia Potter, Nee Vandayar. You may call me Appammaa.” Euphemia announced, her voice formal but her smile warm, Hari wasn’t quiet sure how to proceed.

“What does appamma mean?” Hari’s tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word.

“Grandmother, since your Tamil is non-existent, I assume you were not left with my cousins.” Euphemia tutted. “My hopes at you having a proper education are dashed.”

Hari felt like she was on her broom, being thrown about by Quirrel again, with how quickly the painted woman moved the conversation. This woman was her Grandmother, she spoke Tamil, a language Hari had never heard of, and apparently she had cousins?

“Um, what do you mean by that?” Hari asked, confused.

“We portraits are tied to the wards, and we felt it when you arrived, the house greeted you as the Lady of the Manor. This can only mean that my son and your mother did not survive the war they found themselves in, I had assumed you had been sent to my cousins to live, clearly this did not happen.”

“No, I lived with my mother’s sister.”

Euphemia’s lip curled unpleasantly, Hari felt her stomach churn nervously. Hari didn’t know a lot about portraits, she picked up some knowledge from charms and history of magic, and she found herself wishing Hermione were with her. She knew they weren’t like ghosts, they weren’t actually the person they were based on, they were marked with a magical signature, Professor Flitwick had called it. He’d explained this meant that portraits often depended on the person they were based on, strong magic meant a stronger signature, making the painting contain more memories and more understanding. He’d also mentioned that a person who had a strong personality alive, would have a more lively portrait when they passed. Based on this, Hari determined that her Grandmother was exactly how Sirius described her, a powerful witch, and a powerful woman.

“Ah. And who’s decision was that?” Euphemia asked, bringing Hari back to the present, the older woman didn’t seem to make any effort to hide her displeasure.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Hari offered, stepping back slightly.

She had no idea what her grandmother said next, as it wasn’t in English, but from the blush on the portraits around her, and the way her painted mouth spat them out, they were not pleasant.

“Now now, Effy.” A man’s voice came from the portrait beside her. “Do not scare Hari off, I’m sure Albus had good reason.”

Hari looked to the other portrait, to find a man who looked very much like her father, but perhaps forty years older and five stone fatter.

“Oh don’t you start, Monty.” Euphemia scolded the man who Hari assumed was her grandfather. “Always defending that wretched old man.”

“Anyway.” The old man said, turning from his wife to Hari. “Fleamont Potter, most call me Monty, as you may have guessed, I am your grandfather.” He tipped his head to Hari, she gave a tiny awkward bow in response. “We’re very glad to finally meet you, Hari. The sorry lot around us are mine – and your – ancestors, as I’m sure you’ve figured out.”

Hari nodded, then let her eyes follow up the rows of portraits, she was met with more nods and waves.

“Wow, that’s a lot of people.” Hari said aloud, “I didn’t think people got portraits done so often.”

“They don’t,” Euphemia replied, “These are only the heirs and their spouses.”

Hari felt her heart rise.

“Does that mean there are portraits of my mum and dad somewhere?”

Euphemia shook her head sadly, Hari knew better than to get her hopes up, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“I’m sorry, kanmani.” Euphemia soothed, “Monty and I share your disappointment, it would be good to speak to them again.”

Hari nodded but couldn’t find it in herself to say anything.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask us?” Monty prompted; Hari then remembered why she was there in the first place.

“Er yes, actually. I was wondering if there was a Potter genealogy book? My friend mentioned there may be one, I’d like to see it, if I may.”

“Of course! Of course!” Monty shouted excitedly, he then directed Hari through the cluttered study to a chest, it opened at her touch. Inside was a well preserved tomb, it was a deep red leather with black borders, and ‘Potter’ written in gold. With great care, Hari lifted the book and placed it gently onto the desk in front of the eagerly watching portraits. “It dates back nearly 900 years.” He informed her with no attempt at hiding how proud he was of the collection of names, dates and places.

“Is your family in it? The Vandayars?” Hari asked her grandmother’s portrait.

“Just myself, but I’m sure if you write, they will be more than happy to answer any questions.” She answered.

Hari nodded in acknowledgement then returned to the tomb, scanning the pages for familiar names, she was surprised to come across more than one name she recognised. Namely, Prewett and Black. She recognised Prewett as Molly Weasley’s maiden name, the thought of being related to the Weasley’s made her smile, though she felt somewhat conflicted about being a relative – however distant, of the Blacks. Whilst she was excited to reveal to Sirius that they were related, though she was sure he must know already, she wasn’t certain she liked being related to the Malfoys.

Hari followed each name through the lines, the relation to both the Blacks and Prewett’s seemed distant, from what she could tell, at least. She let her finger trail the Potter name further and further back, until she found it split, in the 12^th Century between a Hardwin Potter and Iolanthe Peverell.

“His father was the first Potter.” Monty explained, “The inventor of both the pepper-up and skele-grow potions, he founded our family line.”

“I’m rubbish at potions.” Hari said, eyes flickering over the many, many names. Monty laughed.

“As was your dad, too busy causing trouble with Sirius and chasing after pretty faces to study.” Monty said fondly, Hari wondered briefly what other pretty faces other than her mother’s had he been chasing.

“You should finish for today, kanmani.” Euphemia’s voice called out. “It, and us, will all be here tomorrow.”

Hari looked up from the book, she hadn’t realised the sun had risen high in the sky now, had she been looking at this all morning? She closed the tomb carefully, then said her farewells to the portraits.

Hari returned the next morning, and a few mornings after, sometimes she’d even join Sirius when he visited Euphemia and Monty. She liked listening to her appamma scold Sirius for smelling like cigarettes (how a portrait was able to smell, Hari had no bloody idea) and dote on him for how well he looked. Monty would ask about Remus, who popped his head in every once in a while, but mostly avoided the study if he could, and enjoyed telling embarrassing stories about her dad and his friends. They spoke about Lily, how happy they were to have her as a daughter in law. They never mentioned Peter, Hari could only assume Sirius had told them what happened, for which she was grateful, she didn’t want to ever have to tell the story again.

The rest of Hari’s summer passed in a blur of beach trips, video games, quidditch with Sirius and watching Remus’s weird TV shows (she decided that X-Files was her favourite, but she found Twin Peaks far too weird), and conversations and research with the portraits of the study. She’d shared some of her findings with Malfoy, who seemed unsurprised to find they were related ‘all the pure-bloods are related, Potter. It’s only a matter of how related’. Hari didn’t know how she felt about that, but decided to let it go in favour of learning all Malfoy knew. She’d never heard of the Peverells but offered to conduct her own research in the Malfoy library, for ‘a favour to be determined at a later date’. Hari agreed, rolling her eyes as she wrote her reply, she knew she’d regret it, but was eager to learn.

Hari decided not to mention her research into her family tree to Ron and Hermione; Ron would be bored senseless by it and Hermione wasn’t shy about her opinions on how many pure-blood wizards obsessed over their bloodlines. But she decided that was okay, as much as she loved her two best friend’s she felt good having something of her own, separate from them that she found interesting. Instead, Hari chattered excitedly to them about working out how to use muggle devices without electricity, they’d even managed to set up a landline. Ron hadn’t recovered from his last attempt at using a phone box, and wasn’t keen to try again, but Hermione seemed to call Hari’s new phone the second she received her letter.

“I can’t believe I’m actually talking on the phone to you.” Hermione laughed through the receiver, “It’s so strange, my muggle life and wizard life overlapping.”

“I know, we don’t have to wait on owls to talk,” Hari heard Hedwig hoot in offense from her perch. “Sorry, Hedwig.”

“How is it there? I know you can’t tell me specifically but…” Hermione’s voice trailed off.

“It’s amazing ‘Mione, I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun outside of Hogwarts before.” Hari gushed to her friend about her amazing summer so far, so happy just to have something to tell her friends about her time out of school. “And I’ve been able to learn so much about my family! I got to- ‘Mione I got to speak to my grandmother.”

“What? Hari how is that possible?”

Hari felt her eyes sting.

“Her portrait, she’s so…. She’s so stern and she tells me off for my posture and, she’s my grandmother.” Hari could barely contain her excitement.

“Oh Hari, I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing.”

They spoke twice a week over the phone, they even managed to do homework together, well, Hari did homework while Hermione helped – of course Hermione finished all her work in the first week of summer.

Hermione suggested that Hari buy a mobile phone, with smaller versions of the magical energy converter, they could even keep it charged. It would mean Hari could call Sirius and Remus from Hogwarts, though that would mean having to teach Sirius how to use a phone – which she did somewhat dread – but it would certainly be worth it.

Remus and Sirius were enthusiastic about the idea and agreed to get Hari a mobile phone as an early birthday gift, as they wouldn’t be able to spend the actual day with her. They then quickly got to work on a second version of what they now called ‘The Fawn Box’.

Hermione sat at her bedroom desk, penning a letter to Ron, reminding him to get his homework done, insisting she wouldn’t spend the last week of summer at the Burrow helping him with it. She knew it was in vain, but she thought she’d at least try to discourage his academic co-dependence. She would need to go to the wizarding post-office soon, she was glad she was able to have efficient communication with at least one friend.

Hermione was just sealing her letter before she heard her mum call her from downstairs.

“Yes, mum?” She called from the landing, then rolled her eyes at the silence, of course she would pretend not to hear her. She sighed and ran down the stairs, she nearly fell over when she saw Professor McGonagall stood in the entryway of her house. “Professor? Is everything okay?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. Harriet Potter is missing.”

Oh no.

Hermione sat at the Weasley kitchen table thirty minutes later, with Ron by her side, vehemently denying knowledge of Hari’s whereabouts, by his lack of blushing and stuttering, she figured he was telling the truth and that Hari hadn’t shared with him where she was. Opposite her sat Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, whilst Molly Weasley paced anxiously through the kitchen.

“Miss Granger?” The headmaster’s voice pulled Hermione from her worrying, “Do you have something you wish to share?” All eyes in the room zeroed in on her, she felt as though she were under the heat of a dozen stage lights.

“Hermione, if you know where Hari is, you must tell us; she could be in danger.” Mrs Weasley pleaded; Hermione picked at her short nails.

“She’s safe.” Hermione only managed to squeak out.

“You know where she is?” Ron bellowed out, “She didn’t tell me.” Hermione had to fight to roll her eyes at him, now really wasn't the time for him to be jealous.

“She called me just last night, we spoke on the phone. She doesn’t want anyone to know where she is, I don’t even know where she is.” Hermione implored. “I just knew she isn’t with the Dursley’s.”

“Miss Granger, you must tell us what you know, Harriet may not realise she is in danger.” Dumbledore stared at her for a long time, Hermione forced herself to look away. “She is with Sirius Black, isn’t she?”

“Sirius Black?!” Mrs Weasley near screamed, “Why would she- oh sweet Circe.”

“He’s innocent!” Hermione instantly defended. “He was framed, you know that, sir! He’s her godfather, she’s supposed to be with him, it’s where she wants to be.”

“Regardless, by law – wizarding and muggle - he cannot be responsible for her, her legal guardians are the Dursleys.” Dumbledore’s tone was stern and left no room for argument.

“Then how is it they only just noticed that Hari was missing? She’s been there for nearly two months now!” Hermione realised she was shouting now, but she couldn’t bare the unfairness of it all. Hari was happy, and Hermione knew she was safe, safer than she would be with the Dursleys, why couldn't they leave her alone?

“The Dursleys were lied to, Miss Granger.” Professor McGonagall interrupted, “They were approached by a man they didn’t not recognise before the end of term, this man – who’s name they don’t recall – told them he was a friend of the headmaster and would be responsible for Harriet’s care this summer.”

“And they just let her go?” Hermione nearly screeched. “And you think they are who Hari should stay with? They didn’t even remember Professor Lupin’s name!” Hermione gasped, holding her hands over her mouth as if to stop the words from coming out, but it was too late. Hermione felt her heart crumble in her chest, how could she be sostupid?

“Remus Lupin is with them?” McGonagall pressed. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes, she hadn’t meant to, she was just so angry and upset and now she had told them. She didn’t confirm but she didn’t need to.

“Remus is on the ministry werewolf registry, they will be able to give us his location.” Dumbledore concluded, rising to his feet. Hermione felt a sob break out. “Thank you for your help, Miss Granger. Mrs Weasley, will you be happy for us to bring Hari here, once she is secured?”

Hermione didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, too devastated at the realisation that she had so foolishly betrayed her best friend.

When her professors brought her home, Hermione just stood in the entryway, staring at the space where they'd apparated from, disapointment marring their features.

"Hermione?" Her mum asked from behind her, "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Hermione just collapsed into her mother’s arms with a heart breaking sob. How could she be alirght? Nothing would ever be alright again, she'd just betrayed her best friend, and sheknew, she knew deep in her stomach that Hari would never forgive her.

Hari jumped from rock to rock in the stream, her bare feet gripping against the slippery cold, she watched the frogs and salamanders slither amongst the reeds. She heard Padfoot kicking up along the river bank, with Remus following behind, stopping everyone once an a while to pick aconite with a gloved hand. Hari had asked if there was anything she could do to help during the full moon, Remus had agreed to teach her how to brew wolfsbane potions, she was certain he only allowed this to prevent her from pushing them about becoming an animagi. Hari didn’t feel the need to inform him that Sirius was already teaching her the theory behind it.

Hari figured her chances were pretty good that Sirius would agree to start teaching her the practical side before the end of summer, which was only a short two weeks away. She only hoped they could get started before she had to return to school. Idly, she wondered what her form may be. Sirius had explained that she didn’t choose, it was something innate, likely decided by their magical core at birth. Would she be a stag like her father? She supposed she would be a doe, instead, like her mother’s Patronus. Though she’d be disappointed to miss out on having antlers, the idea of having that connection to her parents made her heart swell.

Hari would be able to join them on the full moons then, she’d be able to run with them, like Prongs did. She’d have to pick a nickname, whilst she liked Remus and Sirius calling her pup, that was more of an endearment, like when her grandmother’s portrait called her ‘kanmani’. She wanted something that she could add to the Marauders map, they’d removed Wormtail, and now there was a gap she was eager to fill.

As Hari debated names internally, there was a magical crack behind her, she nearly lost her footing as she heard Padfoot growl at the figures behind her. Hari twisted on her the ball of her foot to see Albus Dumbledore along with a man she didn’t recognise, standing on the river bank before Remus. Her heart sank like a boulder to her stomach.

It was over.

Even as Remus argued and Padfoot bared his teeth between Hari and the intruders, Hari knew there was no point.

“Can I at least get my things from the house?” Hari asked, the shouting silenced immediately as she grasped the attention of the adults.

“Hari…” Remus began, but she just shook her head.

“It’s okay.” She said, she was certain the smile she offered to reassure him was nothing more than a grimace. “Pads.” Hari placed a hand on Sirius’s raised hackles. “It’s alright.”

“I think it best we just go, Harriet.” Dumbledore didn’t have the usual lightness to his voice. Hari nodded.

“We’ll send your trunk.” Remus assured her, though his voice sounded tight. Hari went to hug her godfathers goodbye, but Dumbledore grasped her arm and she was pulled nauseatingly through the air. Then she was at the Burrow. Hari tugged her arm the headmaster and stomped heavily to the door without looking at him.

“Thank you, Kingsley. I think we’ll manage from here.” Hari heard Dumbledore say to the other man, then there was a crackle as he apparated away.

Hari didn’t say a word as Molly Weasley pulled her into a hug, she couldn’t be angry at her, but she certainly wasn’t who she wanted to be held by.

“I’ll will leave her with you now, Molly. I must go see to Miss Granger and let her know we found Harriet safe and sound.” Hari heard Dumbledore say over her shoulder, the young witch finally turned to glare at the headmaster.

“Hermione told you?” She gasped.

“We would not have been able to locate you without her.” The ancient man said, then nodded to Molly, and then he was gone.

“Let’s get you inside.” Molly ushered her in, she heard her muttering something about mud and Hari realised she wasn’t wearing her shoes. She mindlessly wiped her feet on the entry rug and then trudged upstairs to Ginny’s room, where she knew she’d find a bed set up for her. She heard Molly call behind her, but Hari had no interest in hiding her complete disinterest. Ginny wasn’t in her room when she arrived, but the cot was ready for her, she crawled onto the uncomfortable camped bed, pulled the blanket over her head and she cried.

Hari vaguely noted when Molly came to check on her, then Ginny when she finally got home, she’d spent the day with Luna. Ron came eventually, asking her to come to dinner, Hari didn’t offer an answer. Eventually a plate was left on the bedside table, it went uneaten.

It must have gotten late, because eventually Ginny came in, lugging something heavy, by the sounds of it. Remus must have sent her trunk, as promised. Hari couldn’t find the strength to look at it, it shouldn’t be here, it should be at Potter Manor, with Remus and Sirius, where she should be.

Hari heard Ginny getting ready for bed, the sounds of draws quietly opening and closing, of pyjamas being pulled on stirring her from half-sleep.

“Did Hermione really tell them?” Hari’s voice was croaky from disuse, Ginny seemed surprised, taking a minute to answer.

“Dumbledore brought her and McGonagall here the other day, I wasn’t here, but Ron said they knew you were with Sirius. Hermione shouted something about Lupin, then Dumbledore said something about a werewolf registry, and they left.” Ginny explained. Hari still held her head on the blanket, so Ginny didn’t see her nod, but took her silence as acceptance. “I’m really sorry Hari, I don’t – I don’t think she meant to, when she came out, she was crying and – I’m sorry.”

“Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? I was happy and safe, for once I was okay, and that’s when they decided to step in?” Hari didn’t care that her voice was getting loud now. “Not when Vernon beat me, when Petunia starved me, locking me in a cupboard. Not when Dudley and his friends- not when they were-“ Hari shook her head, she was out of the blanket now, her red puffy eyes pleading at Ginny. “Sirius and Remus were looking after me, they were protecting me, when no one else would they did.”

Ginny quickly got out of her bed and threw a hug around Hair’s shoulders in a bone crushing hug, Hari burst into erratic sobs.

“It’s not fair, Gin. It’s not bloody fair.” She cried, clinging to the redhead desperately.

“I know, Hari. I’m so bloody sorry.”

Ginny lay in the cot with Hari that night, stroking the older girls hair as she cried, apologising until they both fell asleep.

Chapter 14: Was it Something I Said that Made You Feel Like A Burden?

Chapter Text

Remus just stood there, watching the spot where Hari had been, walking towards him – before Dumbledore had snatched her away. Remus only came to when he heard the furious snap of Sirius’s apparation. He followed without thought, knowing on instinct where the other man would go. Sure enough, Remus found him at the floo, his wand drawn as he cursed viciously.

“We’re not on the network.” Remus said dumbly, standing several feet behind him.

“I gathered that!” Sirius snapped back. He cursed again and slashed his wand at the fireplace and the stone cracked, splitting the mantle in too. “f*ck.” He shouted, he slashed again, and again, and again, and Remus watched as Sirius destroyed the drawing room. The room that they’d spent most of their summer days. The record player James had bought Sirius for his sixteenth birthday, that they played on lazy evenings, and - once Hari’d gone to bed - Remus had let Sirius twirl him around the room and they’d laughed, easy and light. Now it smouldered in the corner, Sirius had flung it across the room with his wand, right after he’d cracked the screen of the TV they’d set up. Remus had sat up until the early hours for three nights, relearning charms and vague memories of science lessons he’d had when he went to muggle primary school, to get thing working.

The sofa that Sirius had been laid on, the night he’d run away from Grimmald Place, weak and shaking from the crucio his parents had inflicted. Remus, James and Peter had set up vigil that night, guarding their friend with their lives, willing to kill and die to protect him from his family. Now the fabric was torn to be unrecognisable, stained with the charring of a blasting curse.

Remus only stood, and he watched Sirius tear his home apart.

Sirius let out a final cry of rage as he belted a vase across the room, then he turned to Remus, wand still drawn.

“What?!” He screamed. “Why are you just stood there? Why did you just stand there?”

Remus sighed.

“Are you done?” He asked coldly, Sirius flinched. He nodded.

Remus flicked his wand, and the room flickered and snapped itself back to shape, glass few back to shape without so much as crack, wood un-split, fabric re stitched, and vinyl melted back as though nothing had happened. The room still smelt like smoke. But the damaged was undone.

“Do you feel better?“ Remus asked, his voice sounded cruel and impatient – he didn’t know how to stop it.

Sirius glared at him.

“f*ck you.” He hissed, Remus ignored him and went to the landline. It was an awful novelty phone that Sirius and Hari had picked out, in the shape of that stupid orange cat from some muggle newspaper comic, he’d found it begrudgingly funny at the time, now Remus had never hated an object more in his life.

Mary didn’t answer, so Remus left a message and urged her to come over right away, then he scribbled a note and flung it in to the fire for Regulus. The floo wasn’t set up for travel – a safety precaution that Remus was now grateful they took – but it could send messages and take calls.

“Where were you going to go?” Remus asked, his back to the room as he watched the note burn into the green flame.

“Dumbledore’s office.” Sirius said with the tone of petulant teenager.

“And then what?” Remus demanded, he turned to him this time, forcing him to meet his glare.

“f*ck I don’t know Remus!” Sirius threw his hands in the air as he shouted. “I had to do something, he took her! He took her and we let them-“ Sirius chocked as he threw his wand, choosing to use his hands to pull at the hair in his scalp.

“You getting sent back to Azkaban wouldn’t help Hari, Sirius.” Remus scolded, bile rising in his throat. “She needs you here, I need-“ Remus cut off, a broken off sound emitting from his throat with a scrape. “We’ll get Mary here, and Regulus-“ Sirius scowled- Remus chose to ignore it. “-and we’ll work out a plan, we’ll- we’ll fix it.” Remus repeated, more so to convince himself than the other man. “I ne- Can you promise not to run off again, don’t just- don’t just act without waiting for me, please?” The last word came out so quiet and desperate, so raw. Remus hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, but he needed Sirius to listen, he couldn’t lose him again, he wouldn’t survive it a second time. He needed him to know that.

Sirius seemed to visibly recoil at the question.

“f*ck I-“ He let out a shaky breath, scrapping his hands from his hair to rub at his face, before moving over to Remus. “I’m sorry.” He said, ever so gently. “I didn’t think, I never-“ He huffed, seemingly annoyed with himself. “How are we thirty years old and still so sh*t at this?” Sirius asked, a fragile smile on his lips as he met Remus’s gaze.

“Thirty one.” Remus corrected him. “Shall we put it down to extenuating circ*mstances?” He offered, Sirius scoffed.

“Tired of making excuses, I need to do better – for you and for Hari.” Sirius’s eyes took on a determined gleam. “We both do.” He challenged, and Remus dreaded it.

Twelve years of existence without change, without growth, without anyone but Mary – famed enabler – to hold him accountable to, was a hard habit to break.

But for Sirius? For Hari? For Mary who had stood by him, offering her shoulder without judgement or expectations? For himself, for the years he lost to mourning, to loneliness? For all that, Remus would try. He’d be terrified the whole f*cking time, and he knew he’d f*ck up, but he would try. God would he f*cking try.

“Why would you let them take her?” Mary demanded, she was pacing, her hair – usually braided and piled neatly on her head - was fraying and loose, her eyes red and raw as she chewed her thumbnail. Sirius leapt defensively from the sofa, glaring at his friend.

“What were we supposed to do?” He demanded, throwing his arms up.

“I don’t know!” Mary shouted back, “I don’t know!”

“Sirius.” Remus warned from the sofa, finally pulling his head from his hands. “Sit down.” Sirius scoffed but did as he was bid, Remus then glanced at Mary then gestured to the empty space beside Regulus, who had been silent since his arrival twenty minutes ago

Mary sighed and sat as well.

Regulus cleared his throat, placing his teacup back on the table.

“They won’t take her back to the Dursley’s.” He assured, speaking slowly like he would to a classroom of first years. “You said she was due to go to the Weasley’s next week anyway?” Remus nodded. “Then that’s where she’ll be.” He determined.

“We know she’s safe, at least.” Remus added, glancing between Hari’s godparents, it didn’t have as soothing affect as he hoped, but they did seem less ready to start burning things.

“It’s not enough.” Mary said, shaking her head. “She needs a home, she needs parents.” She implored, to no one in particular. “Hari needs to have people to turn to, advocates to make sure she’s safe all through the year. Who goes to her head of house meetings each year? Who picks her up from the Hogwarts Express? Who makes sure she gets her jabs and dentist appointments? Is she even fully vaccinated?!” Mary was shaking again, gasping for breath as her worry spilled out. Remus leaned forward and grasped her hand, she clasped onto him with bone crushing strength.

“That’s what we were supposed to do,” Sirius argued, “How did he even find us?” He turned his glare to Regulus, who immediately turned defensive.

“Don’t be stupid, Sirius.” He scowled. “Dumbledore went straight to Hari’s friends after McGonnagal’s visit to Privet Drive, I believe Miss Granger informed them that Lupin was involved somehow.” Regulus said coolly, recounting the conversation he’d had with the Headmaster, he’d been surprised that the old man had told him to begin with, but of course it lead to him asking Regulus if he knew anything. Regulus made great efforts not to lie directly to Dumbledore, even with his strong occlumency skills, it was risky. But, on this occasion, he’d been forced to, he wasn’t sure how convincing he’d been, whilst he didn’t doubt his ability to lie, he also didn’t doubt the Headmaster’s willingness to pluck the truth from his mind regardless.

“We’re not going to get anywhere by picking fights with each other.” Remus scolded, narrowing his gaze at Sirius, who shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “Obviously, we need a permanent solution. Sirius can’t apply for guardianship until we’ve found Peter.” He said the name like it tasted sour on his tongue. “We were planning to start looking as soon as Hari was back to school, but we can start early.”

“You don’t know how long that would take.” Regulus frowned. “He hid for twelve years before, it could take as long to find him a second time.”

“I wasn’t looking for him last time.” Remus said, his tone level and cool, dangerous. “But you’re right,” He lightened with a sigh. “In the meantime, Mary.” The woman met Remus’s gaze. “You need to get custody.”

Mary let out a shaky breath, not breaking eye contact.

“Okay.” She whispered. Then she turned to Regulus, who straightened his spine somewhat; he didn’t think Mary had ever addressed him directly. “Are you familiar with Wizarding custody laws?” She asked. Regulus nodded. “Okay, then you’ll need to help me. Sirius,” She turned to the other Black brother, who mimicked Regulus’s stiff posture.

“Yes?” He asked.

“We need a good solicitor.”

Hedwig hooted loudly from her perch as Remus opened the door to Hari’s room, the snowy owl leapt and fluttered her wings erratically at the lanky man.

“Hush, girl.” He soothed, offering his arm for her to rest, she took it but dug her claws anxiously into his arm, Remus flinched. “I know, she’s okay.” He offered her a finger, which she nipped before nuzzling. “She’s at the Burrow, you’ve been before?” He asked, to which the owl hooted excitedly. Remus nodded as he guided her to the window. “Go on, I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, we’ll send her trunk soon.” Remus had barely lifted the latch before Hedwig lurched off his forearm – tearing his sleeve in the process – the nasty little sh*t - and flew out, eager to be back with her witch. He watched her fly south-westward until she was a speck in the clouds, before turning back to the empty room.

They’d tried to get Hari to decorate, or at least let them help her make it look less like a hotel room, but even Sirius hadn’t been that successful. She’d agreed to some photos, mostly of Lily and James, as well as some of her school friends. Remus had bought her a muggle camera, a disposable one that she’d taken with her whenever they went out on one of their day trips, it sat on her desk – she hadn’t wanted to take it to the river in case it got wet. He made a mental note to have them developed, maybe he could have Regulus take them to her at school, maybe he could get a few copies for them as well. Though Sirius never much liked muggle photos, as much as the other man had tried his best to enjoy every muggle thing he got his fingers on – and did his best to make sure his mother found out about it too – he’d told Remus how much they unsettled the pureblood. It’s the unblinking eyes, Moony. It’s f*cking creepy.

Meanwhile, Sirius spent half his evenings sat before portraits of the dead, talking as if they were there.

He’d have to tell the paintings that Hari was gone; if they hadn’t figured it out already that is. Perhaps they’d be able to offer Sirius some comfort at least, the Potter’s had always been able to give him what Remus couldn’t.

He distracted himself with packing Hari’s suitcase, though whether it was a distraction or just a twist of the knife, he wasn’t quite sure. Remus picked up the clothes in her laundry basket – she’d gotten into the habit of hiding her dirty clothes, just so she could get them cleaned before Sirius could. It was a strange feud the two were in, Sirius keen to do everything he could for Hari – he’d brush her teeth for her if he could – whilst Hari made every effort to make sure no one did anything for her.

Remus had learnt to pick his battles with Hari, considering how difficult it had been to get her to stop trying to cook for them all the time.

He hadn’t realised it was happening at first; when he woke up one morning to the smell of bacon, coming into the kitchen to find Hari getting together a fry up rather excitedly. Remus hadn’t thought much about it at the time, fourteen was old enough to use the stove unsupervised, and it seemed to make her happy to cook.

Then it happened the next morning, and the next and the next. They got into a pattern, Hari would do breakfast in the mornings – usually something greasy with massive portions, which worked out well because that meant at lunch, when Sirius was in charge, he never had to do more than sandwiches or soup from a tin (the full range of the Black heir’s culinary abilities). Remus oversaw dinner, though Hari liked to be in the kitchen whilst he cooked, and would occasionally peel the odd potato or grate cheese whilst they chatted.

It was a routine the three fell into, easing the teen and two fairly inept adults into a joyfully strange domestic life.

Until a morning a few days before the full, when Remus’s sleep was as rare as it was disruptive, the werewolf had woken before sunrise and sat in the kitchen, with a pot of tea and an essay Hari had asked him to proofread. It was a charms assignment; two pages comparing the spells Aparecium and Revelio, a subject Hari obviously found rather dull, considering how large and lazy her hand writing became towards the end, trying to fill up as much as the page as possible with as few words as she could manage; a tactic James had tried and failed on many occasions. Remus smiled fondly as he wrote notes on a separate parchment; he’d have to find time to go through the library with her, he was certain he remembered reading something about a witch who used ink with melted gold mixed in, making anything written with it unaffected by traditional revealing charms. Perhaps Hari would find it interesting enough to keep her concentration, through an admittedly rather uninspiring topic.

Remus was just finishing up when Hari came into the kitchen, he greeted her with a lazy ‘morning’ and a smile, but Hari hadn’t returned it, she’d only started apologising and rushing to the counters.

“Sorry! I slept in, I’ll get breakfast done quickly.” She’d assured the confused Remus, who just watched as Hari slammed cupboards and clattered plates in a mad rush to get started.

“Hari, it’s fine, there’s no need to rush.” He assured, turning in his chair with a careful frown.

“I know!” Hari said, with an almost manic forced chipper-ness, followed by another mumbled “Sorry.”

Remus saw that her hands were shaking as she cracked an egg into the too hot pan – the oil splattered onto her fingers, half the shell falling in with it.

“f*ck, no.” Hari cursed, sucking on a burn on her left hand as she tried to fish out egg shell with the right. “sh*t.” She swore again as the yolk broke.

“Hari, stop.” Remus stood, coming to push her away gently, he switched the flame off and moved the pan off the heat. Hari backed away, wrapping her arms around her torso, her whole body shook now, and to Remus’s horror, she started crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I woke up late, and now I’ve ruined breakfast and wasted the egg and-“ She gulped and rubbed roughly at her cheeks. “I’m really sorry.”

If Vernon and Petunia had been in the room with Remus then, he would have torn them into f*cking pieces.

But they weren’t, instead Remus stood in the kitchen with the sobbing girl they had failed, who they had treated so poorly that a broken egg caused her a panic attack.

Remus lifted his hand to comfort her, bile rising in his throat when she flinched. Oh, Remus was going to kill them. He’d survived over 25 years as a werewolf, and the front lines of a war, without ever taking a human life, but the second he saw them…

He took his hand back and crouched, his knees creaking angrily at him for it, as he lowered to her eye level.

“Hari, look at me.” He soothed, “It’s alright, pup.” Hari shook her head, stuttering more apologies. “It’s just breakfast, just an egg, it doesn’t matter.”

“I ruined it.” She muttered.

“You didn’t ruin anything, pup.” Hari still wouldn’t meet his gaze, but her breathing was steadying. “You didn’t sleep late, I was just up early. But-“ He added. “If you sleep in that’s fine, sleep all day if you like, it’s not your job to make us breakfast Hari. We’re grown adults, we can feed ourselves.”

Hari took a deep stuttering breath.

“But- I want to be helpful, I want to help.” She protested quietly, she was looking at him now, Remus smiled.

“You can help, if you want to, but not if it makes you feel like this.” Remus said, gesturing to the tear streaks and her runny nose, he grabbed the roll of kitchen towels and tore off a strip and handed it to her. She scrubbed her cheeks and blew her nose, laughing at the noise it made.

“Gross.” She said.

“Yeah.” Remus agreed, earning him a scowl. He held up his hands in appeasem*nt and they both laughed. “How’s your hand?” He asked, gesturing to the red mark on her finger, it wasn’t bad but he plucked out his wand and healed it anyway. “All better.” He said, then stood and swished the mess away, he turned to the fridge and found enough butter, milk and fruit to make pancakes. “I think a sweet breakfast is in order today, don’t you?”

They made breakfast together, Hari mixed the batter and chopped strawberries and bananas, whilst Remus fried them the pancakes, flipping them high in the air until one landed with a rather loud and wet thunk into the sink. After that, Remus sheepishly grabbed the spatula, deciding not to risk anymore.

Once Sirius finally woke, he and Hari began trying to give themselves diabetes in the most creative ways possible, loading chocolate spread and peanut butter on top of their fruit, before wrapping it up in a straining pancake. Remus liked his sweets, but even he felt a little nauseous at the sight – he stuck with the traditional lemon and sugar on his pancakes. Though he did let Sirius make him tea, the way he used to like it, with far too much milk and sickeningly sweet.

After that morning, Remus took over breakfast, he’d let Hari help if she wanted to – and she always seemed to want to- but he never let her cook for them on her own. Sometimes, when he cooked with Hari, he’d make mistakes on purpose, little ones that didn’t matter. He’d burn one side of a sausage, or chop the onion too large, spill a bit of sauce on the floor – small little things, he didn’t know if Hari noticed, but he did it none the less. Just to let her know that it was okay, it didn’t matter if things went a bit wrong, that mistakes were allowed. Remus thought it helped him as well, the reminder that it was okay if he f*cked up sometimes.

When Remus had told Sirius about that morning, just so he knew Hari wasn’t allowed to cook for them on her own anymore, the other man practically became a bloody house elf with the amount of chores he was doing, just so Hari couldn’t. Sirius had always been adept with charms, but now Remus was certain he knew every cleaning spell known to man. Every foot of the family wing was so well kept, Remus would have to hunt to find even a spec of dust. Once, he’d even found Sirius polishing the door knobs with the vigour of a madman. Remus had laughed himself into stiches at the sight; in the twenty years he’d known the man, he’d never seen him clean so much as his own desk. But there he sat, rag in hand and polish on his nose, and it was such a Sirius thing to do, to go above and beyond for those he loved.

Hari didn’t say anything, but she’d find new and inventive ways to do something around the house. She’d distract him with muggle video games after dinner so she could wash the dishes before him, or lock him out of the house when he hung laundry so she had time to make the beds, or lock him in the house so she could weed the garden. Sirius returned by using a silencing charm on her alarm clock, so he could sweep and mop before she woke, or jelly jinxing her legs so she couldn’t reach the high shelves – smirking as he dusted them.

A bizarre battle, in which a teenager was actually fighting her guardian so she would get to do chores. The house was immaculate and Sirius was kept busy; filled with a sense of purpose that had him up in the morning and left him satisfied when the day ended.

Remus smiled fondly at the dirty clothes, a lump forming in his throat. He cleared it and blinked away the thickness around his eyes, casting a quick cleansing charm before folding the clothes and placing them in Hari’s trunk. He added her books and homework, and other school supplies, he packed up her bathroom shelf and the rest of the clothes she’d bought on a trip with Mary. He made sure to grab the picture of her parents she liked best; one of them from the summer after seventh year, both of them sat on Marlene’s couch, Lily laughing at a joke James had told, whilst he grinned at her like an idiot so in love it hurt to look at. He wrapped the frame up in the jumper Hari wore most days, the blue one Lily had bought from a market stall in Oxford - Remus remembered it as the day she told him she was pregnant- and tucked it in a corner alongside the rememberball her friends had gifted her. The glass orb was currently showing a memory from last week, Hari playing football with Sirius and Mary’s kids, Mary sat on a nearby bench with Joe’s arm around her, Remus on her other side looking so happy.

He didn’t realise he could smile like that still.

God it f*cking ached.

Sirius found him sat there later, still watching the memory, not able to find it in him to pack it away.

“Hey.” Sirius greeted quietly, he looked tired as he leant against the doorway, like he’d been crying. Remus grunted in response. A few moments later Remus felt the bed dip down next to him, then heard Sirius let out a heavy sigh. “You okay?” He asked eventually.

“Fine.” Remus said, his voice croaky from disuse. He cleared his throat, sniffed, then put the ball into the trunk, closing the lid with a heavy thunk.

“Talk to me, Moony.” Sirius pushed, Remus tried to hold in the annoyed sigh that slipped out, he really did.

“I’m going to send her trunk down, I was thinking we could send some galleons with it, so she can get anything we’ve forgotten from Hogsmead.” He said, standing as he sealed the suitcase and stood it on his side, he didn’t look at Sirius. “She’ll need to go anyway, her letter said she needed formal robes, Mary was going to take her next week to get them but… well she can’t now.”

“Remus…” Sirius said, reaching a hand out, holding onto his torn sleave, Remus stopped.

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly, turning to look at the other man, who only frowned at him.

“What the f*ck are you sorry for?” Sirius asked, dumbstruck.

“They found you because of me, I’m on the registry, I gave the Dursley’s my name… I shouldn’t have been here with you.” Remus nearly whispered the last of it, the words stabbing his chest as they left.

“No.” Sirius said, typically stubborn. “Don’t be stupid, Remus.” Remus huffed, tugging his arm away. “I’m serious.” He added, earning him a scowl from the werewolf. “Sorry.” He cringed, “You know what I mean, Moony. This wasn’t your fault, and I’m not going to listen to you say it is, okay?”

Remus opened his mouth to argue but Sirius interrupted him by quickly jumping to his feet and clamping a hand over the other man’s mouth.

“No.” He said simply. “None of that brooding sh*t, that’s my thing.” Remus rolled his eyes at the other man, then stuck out his tongue and licked the palm stilling covering his mouth. Sirius pulled it away with disgust and a squawk of indignation. “Filthy!” He scolded, but he broke into a grin regardless, Remus couldn’t help but return it, because of course he did.

“I thought I was the broody one?” Remus asked.

“No, you’re the one everyone thinks is all bookish and sensitive and shy, but really you’re a grumpy, and mean old bastard, with criminal tendencies.” Sirius explained casually with a shrug. Remus frowned.

“That sounds awfully similar to be being broody - with criminal tendencies.” He argued.

“And that’s why I’m the smart one; because I understand things like this.” Sirius teased, Remus huffed a laugh.

“You’re daft.” He said, letting himself be pulled into the circle of Sirius’s arms, the shorter man rested his chin on his chest, smiling up at him.

“You love me.” Sirius teased, Remus kissed him for it.

“How come you’re not brooding then?” Remus asked as he pulled away.

“Spoke to mum and dad.” Sirius shrugged, pulling at a thread in Remus’s jumper – he didn’t need to ask to know he was talking about the Potters. “They asked for you; Euphie knew you were packing Hari’s bag and wanted to talk to you.”

Remus sighed and pulled away.

“I know you’re not a fan of portraits… but I think you should talk to them.” Sirius didn’t let go of Remus’s sleave.

Remus tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, then nodded.

“Yeah, okay.” He conceded. It’s not like it would do any harm, and really, how could Remus say no when Sirius smiled at him like that when he said yes?

Chapter 15: Needless to say, That I’ll be Alright

Chapter Text

Hari woke early and immediately knew something was wrong. The last two months she’d woken in the double bed of her room in Potter Manor, under a summer duvet, on cotton sheets and the sound of Remus’s slippers scuffing down the hallway. That morning she was under a heavy knitted blanket, on the uncomfortable but familiar cot, the one set up in Ginny’s room for when she stayed in the burrow.

Then her chest clenched as she remembered, she pulled the blanket over her head, despite being too warm. Ginny was gone -probably for a run before breakfast, as she always did since making the Quidditch team last year. The rest of the house was beginning to stir; she could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the smell of bacon and sausages lifting through the tall house. Hari felt her stomach growl, but couldn’t find it in herself to pull herself up; she didn’t want to be here, she wanted to go home.

She must have fallen back asleep because she was rustled awake by Ron nudging her shoulder for breakfast. He was slightly more determined than his younger sister, but eventually left to answer the grumbling in his belly. Hari thought she was free, ready to return to her nest of avoidance and self-pity, only for Ron to return a few minutes later with a plate full of bacon, toast and fruit, and a mouthful of sausage.

“C’mon Hari, I risked my neck sneaking this up the stairs past mum, least have some toast.” He kicked at her leg, earning him a glower before Hari reached a hand out of her blankets and grabbed a slice of buttered toast to nibble on. She didn’t have much of an appetite, but Ron watched with narrowed eyes until Hari finished it, opening her mouth sarcastically to prove she swallowed it. Ron snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes, but seemed to relax after, tucking into his breakfast, occasionally holding out a bit expectantly until she gave up and ate it.

Once the plate for clean and Hari felt uncomfortably full, but far less nauseous, Ron put the plate aside and settled in on the floor beside her. He tucked his hands behind his head, he tried his best to looked relaxed, but Hari could see the tightness in his jaw as he mulled over whatever he wanted to say.

“So…” He said eventually, and Hari couldn’t help but avoid his gaze as she plucked at the frayed edge of her blanket. “You weren’t at the Dursley’s.” Was all he said, Hari shrugged. Ron let out an annoyed sigh. “You could’ve told me, y’know.” He added, Hari shrugged again.

She didn’t really have an answer for him, and she didn’t care enough to think of one. She didn’t even want to be there, and she didn’t have the energy to feel guilty about it.

“Fine.” Ron sighed, sitting up. “You need to come down at some point, mum’s worried.” Hari nodded but didn’t say anything, she just rolled over again, her back to Ron as he eventually gave up and left with the empty plate.

He came back at lunch, but didn’t speak to her that time, then again at dinner.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Hari said eventually, as Ron chewed on a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding and beef gravy. “I only told Hermione because I knew how worried she was about me.”

“I was worried about you too.” Ron mumbled, wiping his chin. “Every summer I worry about you, we all do.”

Hari fiddled with her blanket again, her chest twisting with guilt. “I’m sorry.” Was all she could manage.

“Don’t-“ Ron sighed awkwardly, putting his plate aside. “Don’t worry about it, alright? Just – talk to us, yeah?” He asked, patting her shoulder awkwardly. Hari wished he’d hug her.

“I’ll try to, just-“ Hari sniffed. “I don’t know.” She said honestly, not sure how to say the words for everything she was feeling, angry, frustrated… hopeless, without causing anymore worry than she had already.

“I know, mate.” Ron said, finally giving her a tight hug, she gripped his shoulders tight. “I know.”

Hari came down for breakfast with Ginny the next day, she knew it wasn’t the Weasley’s fault, she tried not to blame them. They hadn’t known.

There was still a heavy tension around the table as Hari took her usual seat next to Ron, he greeted her enthusiastically, Hari returned with a smile. An almost audible sigh of relief could be felt from around the table, Hari pretended not to notice as she dug into her fry up.

“Seconds, dear?” Molly offered, already going to the frying pan before Hari could offer.

“No, thank you Mrs Wealsey.” Hari persuaded, “I’m full, honest.”

Hari blocked her plate with her hands to prevent Molly forcing more eggs and tomatoes on her.

Molly stared at Hari with a keen eye for a brief moment, seemingly giving her a maternal scan of her cheeks, likely noticing Hari didn’t have the ashen gaunt she usually came to them with after summer.

“Well, I’m glad you were fed well, at least.” She relented, instead adding more food to Ron’s not even empty plate.

“Yeah Moony- Uh Remus is a good cook actually.” Hari corrected herself, but from the way the twins looked up to her than to each other, they had heard it.

“Right, well…” Molly didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, and began gathering the empty dishes with her hand, and charmed a sponge in the sink to wash them.

Hari felt an inevitable kick under the table, she didn’t need to look to know it was one of the twins.

Mooney?! They both mouthed at her, Hari rolled her eyes, then nodded. The cat was out of the bag now.

“We’re gonna play quidditch outside with Hari now!” Fred called as they both scooped Hari up by her arms and pulled her from the house.

“Let your breakfast settle first!” Molly called helplessly from the kitchen.

They didn’t stop until they dropped Hari on the grass, then both fell into the ground with legs crossed, in a way that was so synchronised she was sure they’d practiced it.

“Uh, my brooms upstairs.” Hari said with a laugh.

“Moony.” Fred said.

“As in one of the marauders.” George added.

“The very one.” Hari concluded for them.

Both boys leant forward, chins resting on their palms like kids, waiting expectantly.

“Explain.” They both demanded, Hari chuckled awkwardly but decided to indulge them anyway. They’d find out eventually, and it was a good distraction.

“Er well, Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs.” She began, “Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and my dad. They were the marauders; they made the map.”

“Wait.” George said

“We had a marauder living in our house for the last” Fred began

“Seven years?” George finished

“Yeah, but the crap one.” Hari argued, forcing her tone to be light, maybe if she joked about it, it wouldn’t make her so angry to think about the man who betrayed her family.

They both cringed.

“But wait,” Fred sat back up, “We never saw him on the map-“

“Yeah!” George dropped his chin. “We wouldn’t have just ignored a dead man sleeping in our little brother’s room for nearly three years.”

“Only other marauders can see them on the map,” Hari had asked Remus about it, she repeated his explanation. “I guess because I’m Prongs’ kid, the map let me see him.”

“So you just ignored a dead man sleeping in our brothers bed?” Fred propped a sceptical eyebrow, Hari rolled her eyes.

“Obviously not,” She shoved Fred, “He ran away by the time I got the map, maybe he knew I’d seem him or something, I just assumed he was a ghost when I first saw his name.”

“Your life is weird, Hari.” George concluded, Fred nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, whatever.” Hari gave George a shove that time, to keep it even.

“Oi, I thought you guys were playing quidditch?!” Ron called from the front door, broom in hand.

And they did, once Hari grabbed her broom from upstairs, it was resting on top of her trunk in Ginny’s room.

“Join us?” She asked the youngest Weasley when she picked up her Firebolt, Ginny nodded eagerly and soon they had a match going.

George and Ron on one team, and Fred and Ginny on the other, Hari was on her own team, whilst the two pairs scored points against each other, Hari chased a practice snitch. If she caught it before either team scored a hundred, she won. It was chaotic and hilarious as the twins employed devious – and frankly evil – tactics to try and sabotage each other. Ginny and Ron seemed to be the only ones actually trying to score, whilst Hari was mostly just using the opportunity to show off the new tricks she’d picked up with Sirius over the summer.

They rotated the teams, once the twins were fully distracted from bothering Hari, and she managed to grab the snitch. Next it was Hari and Ron against the twins, whilst Ginny was on the firebolt after the snitch. When Ginny caught the snitch – whilst both teams were struggling to get past sixty points, Ron declared that the Seeker was always going to win because of the obvious advantage. And so obviously Ron was on the firebolt next, with George and Ginny against Fred and Hari. To Ron’s absolute dismay, the four of them had decided to make it their mission to ensure that Ron couldn’t get within sniffing distance of the snitch.

Cedric Diggory and Luna Lovegood arrived at the Burrow, to the image of Hari and Ginny – who weren’t even on the same team, circling poor Ron on the firebolt, boxing him in as the twins took turns scoring against each other, making no attempt to block one another.

“Cedric!” George called, down to the Hufflepuff, Hari’s head snapped to attention then.

“Luna!” Ginny greeted, abandoning her attempts at terrorising her brother to greet her friend. Hari joined her in the dissent.

“Hi Cedric, hi Luna.” Hari smiled as she landed. Vaguely she heard Ron shout, he must have caught the snitch – not that anyone was paying him any attention now.

“Hello, Hari. You’re looking very tall.” Luna said in way of greeting, Hari scratched the back of her head, sure she was blushing. She had noticed she’d had a bit of a growth spurt over the summer, she was nearly 4inches taller now.

“Hey Hari, I didn’t think I’d see you until the world cup.” Cedric said, ignoring the twins as they went to greet their friend.

“Oh yeah, well plans changed a bit.” She said with a shrug. “So, your dad gave you the tickets for your birthday then?”

“Actually, he got rather impatient and gave them to me a week before. I was honestly impressed he made it that long.” Cedric said with an easy smile.

“Oi Hari, he’s our friend.” George interrupted with a teasing grin.

“Yeah, get your own.” Fred added, resting an arm on the blond boy’s shoulder.

“I saw you both earlier this week.” Cedric argued, “I haven’t seen Hari since end of term.”

“Don’t get jealous, I’m not out to steal your boyfriend.” Hari laughed at the twin’s fake possessiveness.

“You better not. We had to fight off a back of seventh year girls to get our hands on this one.” George warned, making Cedric blush.

“An utter blood bath it was as well.” Fred shook his head, “But it was worth it, he’s cute isn’t he, Hari?”

Hari felt her cheeks get hot, cursing herself for not seeing where this would go, she should have known the twins would turn it on her.

“Are you joining us for a match, Cedric?” Ron chirped in then, diving down next to Hari, she could have kissed the ginger from gratitude then.

“You can take my spot.” Ginny volunteered, “Me and Luna are gonna go for a walk.”

“We’re going to look for fairy droppings.” Luna said cheerily, Ginny rolled her eyes and passed her broom to Cedric before waving off.

Hari grabbed Ron’s arm before he could fly off to join his brothers and Cedric on the makeshift pitch.

“What did you tell the twins?” She demanded in a hushed accusation.

“What? Nothing. What are we talking about?” Ron matched her whisper but seemed entirely unsure why.

“About me and Cedric.” Hari said exasperated.

“You and Cedric?” Ron asked, “I didn’t know there was a you and Cedric.”

“There isn’t!” She nearly shouted. “But they seem to think so.”

“Well, I didn’t say anything, maybe Cedric did? They’ve been hanging out over the summer.” Ron suggested. “He did ask about you.”

Hari jumped, then looked to the other three boys, as if worried they might over hear.

“He did?” She asked.

“No.” Ron said with a very smug grin. “But you wish he did, right?”

“Oh you’re a real arse, you know that?” Hari scolded, her cheeks getting hot, but Ron just laughed and dodged her slap aimed for his arm, “Hey Cedric!”

“Ahh!” Hari shouted for Ron to shut up, jumping on her borrowed broom and catching up with her best friend, clawing to cover his big stupid mouth before he said anything more. The three boys turned to see the two struggling mid-air, Cedric only looked confused and slightly concerned, whilst the twins were bent over in side-splitting laughter at the scene.

Cedric took Ginny’s place on Hari’s team, and Ron was once again playing seeker. Cedric and Hari made a good team, considering their opposition were the most dangerous pair in Hogwarts, they were up by ten and one score away from beating the twins, when Hari saw Ron dive towards the snitch. Hari quickly swooped to run interference, cutting Ron off, and trying to block his view of the glittering ball of gold, whilst Cedric struggled to get the quaffle past the twins. Once Hari was certain Ron had lost sight of the snitch, she swooped around high above the twins, leaving her open for Cedric to pass. It was a hard throw, ten feet up and several yards ahead, but the older boy managed to swing his arm around and send the ball her way, it hit Hari soundly in the chest and she darted down away from the twins as they chased, cursing.

But Hari had a head start and got it past the marker, just as George had a hand around her ankle.

“Yeah! Nice one, Hari!” Cedric called, Hari whooped a cheer, floating over to high five her teammate.

“Seeker superiority!” Hari cheered, Cedric laughed and patted Hari on the back.

They played a few more games, one with Cedric as seeker, he won that one and Hari labelled him a traitor to the seeker alliance. Then she and Fred beat Cedric and Ron, whilst George didn’t bother trying to catch the snitch, much preferring to interfere with both teams. Just as Ron was accusing George of cheating to help his favourite brother win, Ginny and Luna returned and it was time for lunch.

They piled around the table with Mr Weasley – who had come home for his lunch break, and Mrs Weasley who placed a steak and kidney pie on the table along with two large bowls, one full of fluffy chips and the other piling over with buttered peas.

They ate their fill then ended up in the living room, holding a gobstones tournament, Hari still missed the manor, missed Remus and Sirius. But she found herself glad to be around other kids for a bit, even if Ron and the twins were being arseholes, Hari ignored them in favour of playing chess with Luna. Hari had hoped that Luna would make a nice change from getting humiliated by Ron all the time, but it seemed Luna was just as good. Hari frowned at the board, whilst Luna told a story about the bishops being in love, she ignored the younger girls chatting, certain it was a distraction strategy.

Once Hari had thoroughly lost to Luna, and Fred was declared the gobstones champion, Hari and Ginny walked Luna home, whilst the twins walked back with Cedric. Once Luna was back at the cottage with her dad, they both waved goodbye then linked arms as they strode across the fields back to the borrow.

“So, Hermione’s gonna be here on Friday.” Ginny said causally, Hari nodded thoughtfully. “Have you spoken to her at all?”

Hari let out a heavy sigh.

“I got a letter after dinner, it’s from her but I haven’t read it yet.” Hari shrugged, “I’m not sure what there is to say, if I’m honest.”

Ginny hummed quietly.

“You think I’m being unfair?” Hari asked.

“I mean… do you think you could lie to Dumbledore and McGonagall, if they asked you something directly?” Ginny offered; Hari sighed.

“I- I don’t know. Probably not.” She admitted.

“I’m not saying what she did was okay, but maybe you should talk to her, hear her out at least.” Ginny offered. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m going to have to share a room with you both for a week.”

Hari laughed.

“Oh I see your game, Weasley.” She teased, poking Ginny in the rib.

“Of course, you think I would mediate if it wasn’t entirely self-serving? You don’t know me very well.” Ginny replied.

“Slytherin.” Hari replied with mock scorn.

“Rude!” Ginny said with a shove, then the two were chasing each other back to the house. The rest of the week went mostly the same, with quidditch and gobstones, walks with Luna and visits from Cedric.

On Thursday, Hari received a letter via a large eagle owl.

“Isn’t that Malfoy’s owl?” Ron asked around a mouthful of toast.

sh*t.

“Why on earth would Malfoy write to me?” Hari asked, hoping she was convincing. She was glad the twins were absent; they would definitely be able to tell. Ron shrugged.

“Who is it then?”

“Ron! You’re getting your spit and crumbs everywhere.” Ginny scolded her brother, wiping a splatter of wet toast from her face. “You’re disgusting.”

“Am not!” Ron shouted, spitting even more. Hari used the squabbling siblings as her opportunity to escape, she threw a bite of sausage at the owl to get it to fly away, then ran upstairs with her letter.

She was in the middle of writing her reply when Ginny came upstairs, she said nothing as she threw herself down on her bed casually.

“It’s- it’s not Malfoy.” Hari lied uselessly.

“Your worse at keeping secrets than Hermione.” Ginny teased, Hari flinched at the joke.

“It’s complicated.”

“Sure.”

Silence, Hari tried to ignore her presence as she scratched her quill across the parchment.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know we’re friends.” Hari said finally, giving up on her writing. “Her father would disown her for it.”

“Ah, Lucius Malfoy. Lovely man.” Ginny rolled her eyes, “He’s such a big fan of yours, can’t imagine why he’d disapprove.”

“You won’t tell anyone.” Hari tried to sound stern but her voice shook.

“I won’t.” Ginny assured, “But why would you even want to be friends with her; she’s a bitch.”

Hari didn’t have an answer for that, there wasn’t a reason that she felt she would convince her. It had been curiosity at first, she wanted to understand Malfoy, why she would be kind to Hari one minute, then cruel the next. Then she got to know her and realised she was actually fun to spend time with, she was rude and bitter, but she was also funny and honest, whilst she certainly wasn’t nice, she was kind. In her own way.

“Yeah, but I guess I like that about her. She’s very… blunt.” Hari said with a laugh.

“I’m blunt.” Ginny argued.

“Yeah, and I love you, clearly I have a type when it comes to friends.” Hari said with a shrug.

Though she wasn’t sure she liked the comparison between Ginny and Dulcinea, they were similar, true, but it still didn’t sit quite right with her.

Arthur Weasley brought Hermione back the day they left for the world cup, fortunately they spent most of the day walking with the Diggory’s to catch their Portkey, Luna was the only on of them not coming, not that the other girl seemed to mind. She’d simply handed Ginny what looked like a toy from a muggle cereal box, shaped like a horse, ‘to keep the Nargles away’ she’d said with a smile. Ron and Hari exchanged looks and laughed, but Ginny had smacked them both for it, before thanking her friend with a hug.

The large group and long walk had made it easy for Hari to ignore Hermoine, that was, until they arrived at the campsite and Hari, Ginny and Hermione were all in a tent together.

“How have you been, Hari?” Hermione asked after they dropped their overnight bags on the ground, claiming their beds.

“Is that a real question?” Hari answered, she looked around for Ginny to change the subject but instead found her suspiciously absent.

“I’m so sorry Hari, please-“ Hari put a hand up to quiet her.

“I know, I read your letter.” She cut her off. It had arrived the first morning at the Burrow, sent by a post office owl and written in uncharacteristically messy hand writing, making the words rushed and frantic. Hari still had it, stuffed into her trunk, the explanation of what happened had helped, and really, Ginny had been right. Who could lie to Dumbledore? But all the reason in the world didn’t stop the ache.

“Right.” Hermione said, then made a great effort to stay quiet.

“I’m not- I’m not angry, with you.” Hari said eventually. “I just- I think I need time before we can be… normal again.”

Hermione nodded, her eyes bugging wide as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks.

“Okay.” She said quietly.

“Okay.” Hari said, satisfied. “Let’s go catch up with the others.”

The tension was lessoned somewhat, but Hari still felt Hermione’s gaze on the back of her neck, she caught her a few times looking as though she wanted to talk to her, to say something, but thought better of it. Ron wasn’t sure how to handle his two best friends not speaking to each other, a few times throughout the day he tried to get Hari to join him and Hermione, to either help with dinner or take a walk, desperate for them to make up already. But Hari couldn’t do it. It had only been a week, less than.

She knew it wasn’t Hermione’s fault, not really, Dumbledore and to a lesser extent McGonagall were the ones Hari was really angry with. But she still couldn’t help but feel betrayed, Hermione was the one friend Hari trusted above all others. She loved Ron but he was a boy and just didn’t get it sometimes, she trusted Ginny - but Hermione and her had been through so much, they’d bloody time travelled together. Hari told Hermione everything, no one knew her better. No one knew how much it would break Hari’s heart to be taken away from Remus and Sirius, better than Hermione did. And that kind of hurt couldn’t just be forgotten.

Instead, Hari let herself be taken up in the excitement of the match, screaming with the Weasley’s as they watched Victor Krum achieve some impossibly risky stunts as he chased the snitch. Even Hermione got caught up in all the excitement, as Bulgaria won the world cup.

That night the campsite was alive with excitement, singing and drinking and laughing echoing around the rows upon rows of tents. The Diggory’s found them after the match and they all sat together around the fire, with the kids drinking butterbeer whilst the adults enjoyed glasses of firewhiskey.

Hari was lounging on her stomach, listening to the radio with Ginny, Hermione sat in an armchair reading.

It was gone midnight when they heard the first scream.

They fled the tent to investigate, wands drawn cautiously, then they saw the dark mark in the sky, and the world exploded.

Hari quickly grabbed Ginny’s wrist, called to Hermione and began running, getting away from the figures in dark cloaks and bone white masks. They found the Weasleys and Cedric.

“Girls! Quickly, we need to get to the woods.” Arthur ushered them all on, then black smoke pooled in front of them and another figure emerged, Hari, Ron and Hermione found themselves separated from the others as they arrived at the woods edge.

“sh*t! My wand!” Ron cried out, patting himself as he realised he dropped it. “I need to go back for it!”

“Ron no!” Hermione shouted and followed after him. Hari quickly gave chase after them, leaving the woods and ran straight into Dulcinea Malfoy.

“sh*t! Potter?” The blonde girl cried as she fell back, Hari reached out to steady her, and Malfoy reached back, grasping Hari’s bicep with bone breaking intensity.

“Malfoy! Are you okay? What’s happening?” Hari asked, pulling Malfoy away from the crowd back to safety, she’d lost sight of her friends completely now.

“I’m fine.” She scoffed, but her hand shook as she pushed her long hair from her face. “The Dark Lord’s followers are out for a day trip.” She spat out the words.

“You mean-“ Hari gasped, looking up to the black skull in the sky. “He’s not-“

“No. But they’re getting ready for him.” Malfoy said, sending a shiver down Hari’s spine.

“Your father-“

“He left just before it started, as did mother.” She hissed.

“I’m so sorry.” Hari gasped.

“You’re sorry? I’m not the one they want, Hari.” Malfoy’s hand grasped her tighter.

Arthur reappeared then, along with the Weasley’s, Hermione, Cedric – and his father- in tow. Hari let out a relieved gasp as she saw them. But it was quickly cut short when Hermione and Ron both levelled their wands at Dulcinea, eyeing the tight fist around Hari’s arm. Hari quickly pushed Malfoy behind her.

“She’s not done anything, she was running, just like us.” Hari explained.

“Where’s Lucius Malfoy?” Ginny asked, her voice quiet and oddly calm. Hari saw Dulcinea pale from the corner of her eye.

“She doesn’t know.” Hari lied. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Your quite right, Hari.” Arthur said then, Ron and Hermione lowered their wands. “Let’s move, you’ll come with us, Dulcinea.”

“No, I won’t.” Malfoy replied with venom.

“Dulcinea…” Hari tried to argue, but the other girl shook her head.

“I’m fine. I’ll wait here, I’m sure mother will be here soon.” Malfoy drew her wand and turned away, Hari tried to argue, but Hermione grabbed her wrist.

“We need to go.”

Hari relented and they ran, trying to block out the sounds of screams and the shouting of magic Hari had never heard before, but she recognised somewhere deep in her bones as dark.

Chapter 16: Cause We’re The Bitterest Boys in Town

Chapter Text

When they finally landed back at the burrow, Mrs Weasley ran out to them, pulling Ginny into a tight embrace as she looked to her husband for answers. They all pilled into the kitchen, even Cedric and his father, and Mr Weasley explained what a Death Eater was. It was supposed to be new information to all the children, but it felt like Arthur was speaking directly to Hari.

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the name used, Sirius and Remus had used it often to when talking about the war, or Sirius’s family. Of course, they only talked about that when they thought Hari couldn’t hear – when they thought she wasn’t paying attention and they’d have their quiet hissed exchanges, or when Mary was around in the evenings and they thought she was asleep, when they’d worry loudly about when Hari went back to Hogwarts.

The others sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea and talking, but Hari didn’t want to talk to them. Instead she went to Ginny’s room and dug around in her trunk until she found the Fawn Box and the mobile phone Remus had packed for her.

She quickly picked up the phone and rang the only number in it, it only rang twice before they answered.

“Hari are you okay?”

“Pup, is that you?”

Remus and Sirius both shouted into the receiver, Hari sobbed in relief.

“Hey, it’s me, I’m – I’m okay.” She gasped out.

“Hari, we heard what happened. Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus’s voice came out level, but she knew his throat was tight.

“No.” She talked with them both, until they managed to calm each other, she explained what happened.

“Dulcinea says they’re getting ready for him. He’s going to come back.”

“That’s not on you, pup.” Sirius assured her. “If he does, we’ll deal with it. But you’re not on your own, we won’t let you face this on your own.”

Hari nodded, even though she knew they couldn’t see it.

“You’ll call us when you’re at Hogwarts, alright? We’ll want to wish you happy birthday.” Remus said, before the call ended. “Mary will want to hear from you as well.”

“I will.” She agreed, then sniffed. “I miss you all so much.”

“We miss you too, pup.” Sirius said, “We love you.”

Hari felt her throat closing up again, she cleared the tears from her throat.

“I’ll call you again soon.”

Then the phone went quiet, there was a knock on the door. She sighed, then brushed the tears from her face.

“Yeah?”

The door opened to reveal Hermione, she hovered in the doorway quietly.

“That was them?” She gestured to the phone Hari was now hiding back in her trunk, she only nodded. “You managed to get a portable version of the device then? That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Hari answered shortly, then she glanced back at the phone. “Do you want to call your parents?”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“That’s not – I didn’t come up for that.” Hermione tried to assure her.

“I know. Do you want to?” Hari dismissed, offering again.

Hermione nodded, Hari handed her the phone, showing her how to use it quickly. She knew Hermione wouldn’t tell them everything, she rarely did tell them all the things that happened when she was away, but Hari knew – given how much she’d needed to talk to Remus and Sirius. Hermione needed her parents after tonight.

Whilst Hermione spoke with her parents, Hari rummaged through her trunk, Remus had packed up Hari’s new clothes bought over the summer, her new books they’d collected from Diagon alley, and an obscene amount of chocolate. Hari smiled as she checked over the contents, then her eye caught a bit of green fabric she’d didn’t recognise, she pulled at the silk to reveal a green and gold dress, it was styled similarly to the dress Euphemia wore in her portrait. There was a note folded into the fabric, in Remus’s writing.

Hari,

Your grandmother insisted I send this to you, she said she had it made as a gift for your mother. It’s a sari, I think this should meet the requirements for the ‘dress robes’ the school suggested you bring this year.

She’s disappointed she couldn’t say goodbye, but she understands.

With love,

Remus.

“Oh Hari, that’s beautiful.” She heard Hermione exclaim, apparently done with her call.

“It is.” Hari smiled as her fingers stroked the silk, comforted by it, even if she couldn’t be with her family, they were still there – thinking of her as much as she thought of them.

Remus checked over their bags once more, it was hardly necessary; between the two of them they barely had a suitcase worth of belongings. But he needed to keep his hands busy, he zipped and unzipped backpacks, recounted muggle and wizard money. Double checked the battery on the mobile he’d bought, he still felt unsure using it, but they wouldn’t have access to a landline on the road. Sirius had been unhappy about taking the car – citing his motion sickness - but the motorbike was impractical and they couldn’t risk using too much magic.

After the war, when the dust began to settle, the order disbanded, and Remus lost his protections. He was forced to register with the ministry when he’d been found out, which means his magic was monitored, too much aspirating may lead to a visit. Dumbledore hadn’t been able to protect him from the registry, or at least, that’s what he’d said. Remus found it difficult to believe, but it wasn’t in his power to fight it, not that he would have, not then. Those days after- when the wizarding world celebrated the end of the war – Remus ceased to exist, that was the closest description he could muster for those dark months. He hadn’t had the strength for the funerals, the trials, he had simply sat, and drank, and smoked.

He understood why Dumbledore hadn’t felt the need to protect him anymore, he wasn’t any use to him, to anyone. There had been no one else left for him to be useful for.

Or there had been, but Remus hadn’t known that, he hadn’t known that Hari needed him, that Sirius had needed him.

“I still think we should take the bike.” Sirius’s voice came from the doorway, bringing him back to the room.

“And you’re still wrong.” Remus sighed, zipping up the bags, then throwing them over his shoulder, it hit his back with a heavy thud.

“You okay?” Sirius stopped him, reaching a hand for one of the bags, Remus handed it over. “You’re eyes are all glazed.”

“Need a cigarette.” He replied with a shrug, walking past him out of their shared room at Potter manor, he was glad to be leaving it, with Hari it had felt right to be there, but without her it felt like trespassing.

“We’ll get you some nicotine patches.” Sirius suggested, following behind, Remus co*cked a brow, the other man grinned. “Hari told me about them.” He said sheepishly.

Remus gave a distracted smile before heading down the stairs, taking them slowly, the full moon had just passed, knocking his hip out of place. He huffed as he made his way down the gravel path to his car, he dropped his bag into the boot, leaving it open for Sirius to drop his, then sunk into the driver’s seat. He took out the copy of road maps A-Z; he’d planned the route out a week ago, double and triple checked, once more wouldn’t hurt. They’d already been to Peter’s mother, an unpleasant meeting that left the already haggard woman in angry tears, it was necessary but not any less awful. She hadn’t seen him, and still firmly believed her son to be dead, Remus suspected this, but they needed to check every possibility. Next was checking all the known death eater locations from the first war, every abandoned warehouse, every empty pureblood manor. Regulus had provided a list, and it was… extensive. The younger Black brother hadn’t sounded particularly enthusiastic about it, convinced that Peter wouldn’t seek a place to be safe, rather he would seek a person. Remus had dismissed it at the time, but he couldn’t help but agree.

Peter had always hid behind someone bigger, always sought a shadow to hide in, it had been a little annoying when they were young, but harmless because it was James he’d chosen. But Remus knew better than anyone what an intimidating shadow James Potter could cast, being compared to someone like that – it chipped away at a person.

Looking back, it made sense, if Remus held up the timeline of their lives, he would be able to pinpoint the moments that Peter became the man he was now. He’d be able to scan the scenes and watch Peter go from self-deprecating to bitter, from easy-going to apathetic. Perhaps, if he’d been paying attention, had not been so caught up in his failing relationship, in his focus on his order missions above all else. Maybe then Remus would have paid more attention, he’d see it in realtime. Even then, would he have done anything? With what he knew then, could he have predicted how far Peter’s resentment would go? They’d always underestimated Peter. He’d shown them, he supposed, the consequences of believing the act of the fool.

Remus rubbed the knot of muscle high in his thigh, he needed more ointment, he’d need to write to madam Pompfrey, and ask for the recipe so he could make it himself. It wouldn’t be as effective, but it would be better than nothing, and his usual coping mechanisms for pain were no longer available to him. Remus had stopped drinking, and hadn’t had the time for drugs when he started his job at Hogwarts, the only vice he’d allowed himself was smoking – well smoking and chocolate. But Sirius had insisted he quit, Remus had scoffed at the idea at first.

“If we want to be here for Hari, we need to look after ourselves as well.” Sirius had warned him, Remus had watched in silent rage as he flushed the last of his tobacco, but he didn’t argue anymore. Sirius was right of course, Remus had watched his mother die of lung cancer, the image had haunted him once, but after everything – it just didn’t seem that scary anymore. But Hari needed him, which is why finding Peter was so important.

Sirius needed to be cleared, for Hari. Once he was he could become her guardian, and they could live in Potter Manor, Sirius could attend her quidditch matches and drop her off to the Hogwarts express every year. Sirius could be the family she needed. And Remus- well Remus would figure out where he fit in that picture – if he still could.

Hari used to feel such joy and excitement on the train to Hogwarts, when the summer came to an end. That year however, Hari dreaded it. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing their headmaster again, or whoever would be taking Remus’s place as their new DADA professor. Molly had waved them goodbye, promising to see them at Christmas, but it just made her mourn the Christmas she would have had with Remus and Sirius, with Mary and her family.

She tried to pay attention as Neville told them about his trip to Norway with his grandmother over the summer, but her attention was fleeting. Hermione didn’t try and talk to Hari again, beyond the polite ‘hellos’ in the morning, for which Hari was grateful, Ron continued to try and pretend they weren’t arguing to begin with. Luna gave vague descriptions of plants she’d seen on her and Ginny’s walks, whilst Neville would take notes and then make guesses at what she might have seen. Ginny wondered who the new quidditch captain would be now that Oliver Wood had graduated, Hari was certain it would be Angelina Johnson but Ginny seemed to think Alicia Spinnet was a shoe in.

It seemed they were both wrong, as the quidditch teams across all houses shared looks of horror that they wouldn’t be able to play quidditch at all that year.

It was the Triwizard Tournament.

“What’s a Triwizard Tournament?” Hari whispered to Ron at her side, Ron shrugged and looked across to Hermione, who had a look of terror on her face.

“A competition that was cancelled 75 years ago for the amount of student deaths it caused.” Hermione explained in a low voice leaking with outrage. “It’s barbaric.”

“Any student aged sixteen years or older, may participate in the competition. There will be one contestant from each of the three schools competing, and the winner will receive a 1000 galleon reward.” Dumbledore’s voice echoed throughout the great hall, and a cacophony of excited whispers and gasps erupted across the hall.

“sh*t out of luck, aye Hari?” George nodded down the table to her.

“I know, I was so excited to finally get to use my firebolt.” Hari sulked.

Both the twins scoffed.

“We meant the tournament, wouldn’t you enter if you could?” Fred rolled his eyes as if it were obvious.

“I have enough near-death experiences on my own, I don’t need any help from a ruddy tournament.” Hari tried to joke but it came out somewhat choked.

“True.” They said in unison.

“Don’t tell me you’re both going to enter?” Ron squeaked. “Mum’ll kill you!”

“We’ve got plans, little brother.” - George

“Big plans.” - Fred

“And that 1000 Galleons will go a long way.” – George.

The Weasley siblings dissolved into bickering then, Hari let her eyes wonder over to the staff table, where Professor Moody sat, his fake eye twitching over the hall while his other seemed to be focused on Bartimus Crouch, who sat next to Dumbledore, no doubt discussing the up coming tournament. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that made her feel so on edge, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of bugs under her skin when she saw him. Perhaps it was the fact that Moony wasn’t there anymore.

“Are you alright, Hari?” Hermione asked.

Hari broke her gaze away from their new DADA professor, and back to Hermione. She gave a nod and a half smile.

“Good, I have um-“ The other girl cut off then just handed out a wrapped gift to her. “Happy Birthday.”

Hari jumped, then took the gift with a weak ‘thanks’, then opened the paper to reveal a book.

Starting Electronics - Electronics for Beginners and Beyond

“I thought it might be a little easier to digest then the text book you guys found, maybe it could help with your research.” Hermione gave a shy smile, Hari returned it with a full grin.

“Thanks, Hermione. This is perfect.”

“A book?” Ron asked, “That’s a rubbish gift ‘Mione!”

Hermione bristled then glared at the boy.

“Opposed to the box of jelly beans you gave her?”

“Everyone likes jelly beans.” Ron argued.

“Half-eaten!” Hermione shouted now, and Hari laughed, there was something so reassuring about hearing her two best-friends squabbling like an old married couple.

Back in their dorm, Parvati and Lavender Brown were bickering – a rare sight for the two girls, who were usually in agreement about anything and everything. Hermione and Hari had shared a look without a word, both mystified by the spat their roommates were so deeply invested in.

What’s that about? Hari had mouthed from her own bed. Hermione just shrugged, equally bemused.

“You always do this!” Lavender was shouting now, a loud whiny sound that grated in Hari’s ears. “You spent all summer ignoring me-“

“I was in India.” Pavrati huffed. “And you ignored me last Easter to spend it with Louis.”

“He was visiting from France! I hadn’t seen him since we were five-“

And on the two went, Hari had to close her curtains just to hide her snickering, waving a goodnight to Hermione before she cast a silencing charm. She called Mary first, who answered with Sam and Daniel singing an off key happy birthday which left them all giggling. They didn’t talk about what happened over summer, and Hari was glad for it, she didn’t want to think about being taken away or the World Cup anymore. Instead Mary asked how the Weasley’s were, what they got up to, and promised to come see her as soon as she could. Hari called Sirius and Remus next, and it was more of the same, they asked about the new DADA professor, what subjects Hari was excited for (not many) and shared her disappointment that she wouldn’t get to play quidditch this year.

After saying goodnight to Remus and Sirius, Hari turned off her mobile and hid it back in her trunk, letting it charge with the Fawn box. She decided to read through the book Hermione had gotten her, she considered what else she could use it for, maybe she could get a real desk lamp – the candle light made her eyes ache at night.

She dreamt of giant snakes, of black cradles and flashes of green.

When she woke her scar burned on her forehead, for the first time since she met Tom Riddle in the chamber of secrets.

There was an air of nervous anticipation during the first DADA class for the fourth years, it wasn’t uncommon - with a new teacher every year there was always a level of uncertainty over what to expect.

Hari sat beside Ron, Hermione on the desk beside them both with Neville. Hari did a poor job of pretending not to notice when Malfoy entered with her usual all-Slytherin entourage. They hadn’t managed to arrange one of their meetings yet this year, whilst they’d written all summer, Hari found herself missing her strange friend. Malfoy noticed Hari’s gaze and provided one of her classic sneers, though Hari could now only see the glint of humour in her eyes that accompanied it, these days.

Then Moody entered the class and took his position at the front of the room.

“Who here knows what an Unforgivable is?”

Hermione answered, of course.

And then Moody produced a spider, and placed it on Neville’s desk, the boy shuffled uncomfortably.

When he spoke the first incantation, Hari instantly recognised it as one of the spells used the night of the Quidditch World Cup. The spider danced in juttering, stiff movements across the wooden desk, evoking a scatter of laughter across the room.

Then he said something vile and cruel, Hari had heard that too, though she hadn’t seen what it did, which she was now grateful for. The creature made a high pained squeak as it writhed on the desk, Neville sat and watched with glazed eyes, the colour draining from his face. It went on for too long. Then Hari felt the next spell, rather than heard, the flash of green that followed evoked a fear and grief in Hari that she didn’t know she was capable of. It was a green that she’d seen when the dementor’s had grasped her, it was a green that would flash behind her eyelids during her nightmares, before she even knew what magic was.

Hari thought she might vomit.

Neville turned his gaze to hers, and she knew what he was feeling, she knew the gut twisting fear, the heart wrenching pain. Neither had to say a word. They both knew.

When the class finally came to a close, Hari watched Moody approach Neville’s desk, asking him to stay behind.

Hari stood immediately.

“No!”

The room went silent, but Hari ignored the worried glances as she stormed over to Neville, a protective hand grasping his arm.

“Don’t be stupid, Potter. I just need a word with the boy.” Moody dismissed, his working eye glaring at her.

“Well, too bad, we have plans.” Hari stood firm, even though her legs shook terribly and she was certain she’d fall. “Come on, Neville.”

Neville nodded and picked up his bag, and Hari didn’t let him go until they were both out the class and long down the hall, nearly running from their classmates.

“Thank you.” Neville whispered. Hari squeezed his shoulder again.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, he was looking better but still somewhat green.

“No.” He shook his head, eyes watering. “You?”

“f*ck no.” Hari barked a bitter laugh. “Come on, let’s go to the common room, I have chocolate.”

They sat in the common room, which was mostly empty at this time of day – classes were still on and most Gryffindors didn’t bother coming up to the tower during free periods. Aside from a handful of diligent seventh years, it was just Hari and Neville, they sat in front of the fire in quiet for a while. Hari had brought down arms full of chocolate and handed Neville a mug of tea, they sat like that for a few minutes. It took a long while for her nerves to settle.

“I’ve never seen it done before, the spell.” Neville said eventually, whispering as though it were a secret.

“Apparently I was there, when he used the – the last one – on my mum.” Hari said, staring at the fire. “I don’t remember it, I think I’m glad I don’t.”

Neville watched Hari for a moment, then sipped the tea she’d given him, Hari saw him grimace at the taste.

“Do you remember?” Hari asked, “What your parents were like, before?”

Neville rarely mentioned his parents, he hadn’t even been the one to tell Hari about them, she’d just heard the rumours of the Longbottoms. Cruicoed to insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius’s cousin. Hari hadn’t asked him about them before, and he had returned the favour by never asking her about hers, or her scar, or Voldemort. Hari wondered then if maybe that had been a waste, that maybe they should have talked to each other about their parents before, maybe Neville would understand better than others, maybe she could do the same for him.

“No, I was a baby, same as you.” Neville answered, he kept his tone light, like he’d talked about it before a million times.

“We don’t have to talk about them, if you don’t want to.” Hari offered.

“No, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “It’s different when you ask, I think. You understand, probably better than I do what it’s like. To have people talk about your parents, for strangers to know them better than you ever will.”

Hari nodded emphatically, God did she get it.

“I visit them, with gran.” Neville started, cupping the warm mug tighter. “Birthday, Mother’s Day, you know. They don’t recognise me, they used to, when I was younger. But now they don’t, last time-.” He cleared his throat, then frowned into the tea. “Last time mum turned to me and she said, she says ‘Where’s Neville?’” The other boy’s voice shook as he got the words out, Hari shuffled closer, putting an arm around him. “She remembers me as a baby, she doesn’t realise, she doesn’t know I’ve grown up.” He was crying now, his cheeks flushed red as he wiped at the tears. “Sorry.” He sniffed.

“f*ck that, Neville.” Hari scolded. “You cry if you bloody want, I cry all the time about my parents.”

“Yeah?” He prodded, sniffling gently.

“Yeah ‘course.” Hari sighed, she took her arm back and began fiddling with her fingers. “I mean, it’s still new for me. They died when I was a baby but until Hogwarts, I thought it had been a car accident, never even knew they were wizards. When Hagrid told me how they really died, why it happened, it was like they died again, and I was old enough to be there for it that time. I saw pictures of them for the first time, I – I knew them for the first time, not just faceless names but my mum and dad.” Hari frowned at her hands. “And then all anyone does when they meet me, is say how much I look like them, how good they were, what a shame it is that they’re gone, how sad it is that I don’t have them.” Hari looked to Neville, who was watching her intently. “Like, I don’t even get to mourn them, because everyone else is, and they’re telling me how I should feel about it too. I don’t even get to have my own sadness, you know? It’s theirs, I’m just the Girl Who Lived.”

They were both quiet for a while, then Neville took a sip of his tea and grimaced again.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it Neville.” Hari noticed his face and teased.

He nodded gratefully, and a little embarrassed.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be impolite.” He said sheepishly. Hari snorted a laugh, then they were both laughing.

Hari offered her empty mug to him, they swapped and Hari began drinking his tea, after using a warming charm on it.

“I used to be angry when people talked about your parents, how they were heroes.” Neville admitted, “I used to get so upset, my parents were heroes too, you know? They were aurors, they fought in the war, they sacrificed themselves to save me too.”

Hari snorted.

“No listen, I mean- I get it now, when we got to first year and I saw you, how people talked about them to you. It made me grateful, that at least I got to be more than what happened to them, it was a good thing.” Neville sighed.

“I get it, I think.” Hari said. “You’re parents are heroes, even if they can’t remember it. I wish people realised that, and that they’d let me be something other than their orphan.”

“Yeah.” Neville said. “Me too.”

They didn’t talk about it anymore, they didn’t need to. Instead they sat and ate chocolate, whilst Hari finished off the tea. They chatted about lighter things, Hari asked Neville about his family history, letting him know she’d been reading up on the Potters, he lit up then, chatting excitedly about a Lord Gregor the IV who discovered the Pigmypuff.

Ron arrived as Hari drained the second cup.

“Oi.” The boy called as he tumbled through the portrait hole. “I wondered where you went off to! Should have told me we were skiving.”

Ron then dumped himself on the sofa next to Neville, grabbed a square of Cadbury’s and popped it in his mouth. He grimaced at the test.

“Muggle chocolate is rank.” He complained, before taking another bite.

“Don’t eat it then, mooch.” Hari scolded without any heat. “Where’s ‘Mione?”She asked.

Ron shrugged.

“Had to go see McGonagall, probably to ask for more homework.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

“So, no one noticed, we’re not in trouble?” Neville asked the other boy nervously.

“‘Course not.” Ron dismissed with a flap of his hand, he grabbed a mars this time, and his eyes lit up as he took a bight. “This ones good!” He exclaimed, Hari made a note to get him some more for Christmas. “Anyways, we just had Professor Binns, he never notices if people are there anyway.”

Neville seemed to relax then, and Hari took it as her queue to head up to her dorm, ready to make good on her promises and do something she’d never done before. Hari was going to call a parent about a teacher. God. Hari thought. I’m turning into Malfoy. What next? Shouting wait until my Godfather hears about this! At every inconvenience?

No one answered this time, which didn’t surprise her, it was still early in the day, and they weren’t expecting another call until the weekend, she left a message instead, and hoped they knew how to check their voicemail on he new mobile. Hari didn’t really understand why they’d gotten a mobile in the first place; they only ever used the phone to speak to her, and it’s not like they left the house a lot anyway. Hari suspected Remus had just bought the thing so he wouldn’t have to use the Garfield shaped handset she and Sirius had found; he should be pleased with it really, if Hari hadn’t been there to intervene, Sirius would have definitely bought the one shaped like boobs.

When she last spoke to them, they’d informed her rather sternly that she was a student, and these sort of things weren’t her responsibility, she’d rolled her eyes at the time, but now she was glad to leave the information with them, to take it off her shoulders and leave it with an adult. Even if it left her feeling like a child.

Hermione entered their dorm room then; class must have finished for the day.

“Hari?” She called to the room. Hari poked her head out from her bed curtains.

“Here.” She answered, getting up to put her phone away. As she did, it rang loudly. “Hello?”

“Hari! We got your message, what on earth happened?” Remus’s panicked voice called through the phone.

Hermione gestured to the door as though she meant to leave, but Hari shook her head and motioned her over. Both girls sat opposite each other on their beds as Hari put Remus on speaker.

Together the girls explained what happened in DADA.

“What the f*ck.” Sirius’s voice came in once they’d finished, Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock at the swear, but quickly regained herself.

“I spoke to Professor McGonagall after transfiguration, I told her everything, apparently Dumbledore is aware Moody was planning on teaching… that.” Hermione shivered at the memory of the class.

“Of course he was.” Remus said somewhat bitterly. “Is Longbottom alright?”

“He’s better, but it was- f*ck it was awful Moony.” Hari said heavily.

Hermione frowned at Hari this time, but otherwise didn’t object.

“I’m so sorry, pup. Perhaps McGonagall could arrange for you and Neville both to be excused from DADA.” Moony suggested.

“Um- Professor Lupin. Sorry but I already asked McGonagall, she said it wouldn’t be possible. She said she would talk to Dumbledore but I’m not sure much will come of it.” Hermione said.

“Just Remus is fine, Hermione.” Remus responded, “Thank you for asking, Hari is lucky to have you looking out for her.”

There was an uncomfortable quiet.

“I really am sorry about-“

“Don’t worry about it, Hermione.” Remus interrupted, “Hari explained to us, you’re not at fault.”

Hermione’s eyes bugged as she seemed to make an effort to not cry.

“Right.” She nodded. Hari gave her a small smile that she meant to be reassuring, she hoped Hermione didn’t notice how silent Sirius was. It was the same quiet he’d been when Hari had first told him how they’d been found, stormy and somehow very loud. He’d not said a word, until Remus had seemed to nudge him, Sirius’s heavy sigh had rattled down the phone line as he told her that James would probably have forgiven Hermione too. Usually, Sirius meant it as a compliment when he said that to Hari, whether it was received that way or not – but on that occasion, Sirius had seemed…. Frustrated by it. Hari didn’t like the twist of guilt she felt in her tummy; trying to forgive a friend for hurting you was hard, doing it at the expense of apparently disappointing her Godfather? It felt awful

Chapter 17: I Can’t Believe Life’s So Complex

Chapter Text

Minerva McGonnagal let out a long, heavy sigh as she watched her office door close softly behind the retreating figure of Hermione Granger.

Three days.

That’s how long it had taken before there was a knock at her door.

She would be foolish not to expect something, after the events of the summer, and by virtue of having Harriet Potter as one of her students. She did however, expect to have at least a week to settle. Obviously, that was her mistake.

Minerva had questioned Albus’s insistence in appointing Alastor Moody as the new Defence teacher, he was a man she knew to be… unorthodox, brash and often unkind. A good man, she was sure, an auror and one of the many witches and wizards who fought against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Albus had soothed her, assured her that he would not be left to run amok, that he was one of the few people Albus could trust with the position.

Albus had said the same of Professors of the past, and they had all seen what had come of it.

Minerva had been hopeful, last year, Remus Lupin was a student she had remembered fondly. A kind young man, sensible and well equipped for the roll of Professor for the Defence Against the Dark Arts. But the curse that haunted the role did not care how qualified or suitable a teacher may be. Minerva scoffed at herself, she had once dismissed the idea that the position was cursed, she was a reasonable woman after all, not prone to superstitions. But she had taught had Hogwarts long enough, and seen far too many teachers pass through that office to doubt it now.

Of course, that didn’t mean she subscribed to the idea that a certain dark wizard had therefor cursed the position, speculation was not something she indulged in – but the evidence was clear; Alastor would be gone by the end of the year.

That assurance however, did not make what Hermione had brought to her any less concerning.

Unforgivable? In my school? To my students?

Minerva felt a shiver crawl up her spine. She didn’t doubt what Hermione had told her, the young girl had her faults, a brash and determined witch with a sense of justice so strong she didn’t know what to do with it, a liar she was not.

It wasn’t the first Minerva had heard of it, students talked and so did portraits, but Miss Granger was the first to bring it to the head of house’s attention, she was also the first student that appeared to scold her for it.

Minerva might have found it amusing, it was not the first time she had witnessed Hermione reprimanded a figure of authority, of course Minerva had never encouraged it, but it always filled her with a sense of pride to witness it. Hermione Granger would be a great witch one day, and Minerva was excited to see the long overdue changes the young woman would undoubtedly make. But it felt strange, to be on the receiving end of that ire. It wasn’t the first time a student had been upset with her, and she was sure it would not be the last, it was an investable consequence of being a Professor; she was not there to be their friend, a mentor or even confidant perhaps, but she was a position of order, rules, safety. Things teenagers would always resent and rebel against. Except of course, teenagers like Hermione.

Minerva had known Hermione was hurt by what transpired over the summer, she was put into an awful position, and she didn’t doubt Harriet will have felt betrayed by Hermione’s role in the unfortunate situation they all found themselves in. They were all Gryffindors after all, justice and loyalty were two traits that ran deep for their kind, she imagined that the young girls felt betrayed by her, Albus and authority as a whole.

It left a Minerva feeling… uncomfortable.

Minerva realised now that Harriet was never in any danger, Sirius Black as the same reckless boy he always was, but he was not the killer they’d all thought him to be. And Remus… Minerva scrunched her brow, there was a part of her that could’ve help but feel hurt when she found him involved, not for what they had done. She had always doubted the Dursley’s ability to care for Harriet as they should, that doubt had been soothed when Harriet came to Hogwarts, she may have been skinnier than she’d liked, but she’d been almost exactly how she’d expect the child of Lily Evans and James Potter to be. Harriet Potter was impulsive, rebellious and often a thorn in her Professors’ sides, but she was still kind, brave and ultimately good. Minerva had taken that to mean that the Dursley’s had raised her well, that they had taught her right from wrong, and shown her enough love that she was able to pass that on, she’d seen it with Hermione and the Weasley family.

But then Minerva had noticed other things, how Harriet flinched when voices raised too loud, how she’d cower from anger until she didn’t and Minerva saw an anger in the girl she hadn’t seen since… since Sirius Black. Harriet never spoke of her home life to her teachers, and shied away from the topic with fellow students. Minerva had put that down to the prejudices students often held for muggles, even amongst the Gryffindor students, but then Poppy had come to her office.

Harriet spent an unusual amount of time in the infirmary, much to Poppy’s concern and frustration – in quite equal measures – usually due to Quidditch, but also from the rather… unusual situations Potter and her friends found themselves in. Poppy took her position as the schools mediwitch incredibly seriously, keeping the confidences of the students even from Minerva, but there were times when she felt forced to share her concerns.

Harriet Potter had been one of the few. Scars, Poppy had told her, non magical ones that could have been healed easily, even muggle physicians could have seen to them without difficulty. Poppy’s face was drained of colour as she told Minerva of the marks on the young girls back, from a belt, she’d said. Harriet had apparently made a great effort in hiding them, but she’d been unconscious, and Poppy had needed to inspect a wound under her shirt. Harriet had dismissed Poppy’s worrying gaze, ‘got too close to the whomping willow’, ‘the devil’s snare in first year’, ‘Basilisk in second year’. Poppy admitted that they were certainly unique excuses, but had assured Minerva that there had been no doubt in her mind that the scars were not from one incident, but several, the first being years before Harriet came to Hogwarts.

Minerva had been sick. She’d cried in Albus’s office that evening, the first time she’d done so since she had been a student herself. How could she have been so blind? How could she have failed her student so massively? And most importantly, what would they do now?

Albus had surprised Minerva many times in their yeas as colleagues, but he had left her speechless for the first time when he told her the answer was ‘nothing’.

Minerva wasn’t proud of the names she’d called the headmaster, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret them. To her horror, Albus had admitted that he knew the Dursley’s had mistreated Harriet, though he denied knowing of any physical abuse, he told her it was all ‘in hand’. When she had demanded how on earth that could be true, he’d informed her that Harriet had been moved from the cupboard to her own room. Minerva hadn’t even heard of the cupboard, Albus had at least appeared somewhat contrite at that admission.

And then Albus had explained what he had withheld before, the power of the familia bond, how her mother’s blood – and by extension Petunia Dursley’s – were perhaps the only thing that had protected Harriet in the years before she came to Hogwarts.

Minerva knew death eaters remained, Professor Quirrel had been evidence enough of that, she knew Harriet was a target.

“But she wasn’t safe, Albus.” Minerva had implored. “We weren’t keeping her safe.”

“What other option do we have, Minerva? You’ve seen what has happened whilst Harriet has been at Hogwarts, when she is not with her Aunt, they will always be able to find her.”

Albus had met with the Dursley’s every year since Harriet started Hogwarts, in which Albus had enforced Harriet’s change in accommodation, he’d been assured things had improved in the home since then. When Minerva had asked Albus if he’d ever spoke to Harriet about this, if he’d asked her if life at home was better, he’d looked at her like she’d grown a second head, like the thought had never even occurred to him. Minerva could have throttled him for it.

They settled by agreeing to arrange visits, twice each holiday, Minerva and Albus would meet at Privet Drive, Albus insisted that it would not be an investigation, Minerva quietly disagreed.

Their first visit was towards the end of July, they arrived at the muggle home to find it empty, with a note for all post to go to a neighbour, said neighbour delightfully informed them that the whole family were on holiday, the Canary Islands. Minerva had insisted they enter the house, Albus had deemed it unnecessary but enter they did. The house had looked in order, and the room she learnt was Harriet’s seemed in good order, her trunk absent – taken on holiday she had presumed.

Minerva had glanced into the dreaded cupboard and found it full of boxes, pleased it was being used for storage and not for the young witch, Minerva had decided she was satisfied. They would be back in two weeks, the family will have returned by then, she took it as a good sign, a family trip was a good thing, surely?

The next visit had not gone well.

The Dursley’s had returned, sans Harriet.

The moment Minerva learned Harriet had spent the summer with Remus Lupin, she had been delighted, this proved Albus’s theory incorrect, Harriet could be kept safe without the need of blood protection.

But then another thought lingered, why hadn’t he come to Minerva first? She had thought they had a good relationship, she had assumed Remus saw her as someone he could trust. But Remus had heard of the abuse Hari suffered, and decided to forgo coming to her entirely. Minerva could understand Remus’s distrust of authority, he had more reasons than she dared to count to mistrust witch and wizard society, but it left Minerva with a sticky feeling of doubt.

When had she become a person deemed untrustworthy by her students?

For students like Hermione Granger, former students like Remus Lupin, to see her as someone to stand by and allow this kind of abuse to happen to her pupils- it made Minerva doubt.

Because, ultimately, weren’t they correct? What had she done to stop it? Home visits once a month? It wasn’t enough, she knew it wasn’t enough.

Another knock on her door snapped Minvera’s attention back to the present.

“Come in.” She called, clearing her throat. The door opened, and Minerva saw a face she had almost forgotten, how long had I been since she had seen Mary McDonald had stood in her doorway? Minerva smiled warmly. “Miss McDonald, I’m pleased to see you, come and sit.”

Mary looked surprised, but nodded, coming in and sitting in the chair opposite Minerva’s desk. She straightened her posture, her fingers holding tight to a folder that looked like it contained legal documents.

“I’d like to discuss Harriet Potter, as her Godmother.” Mary announced, jutting her chin and meeting Minerva’s gaze with a determination.

“Excellent.” Minerva was beaming. “Have a biscuit, McDonald.”

The great hall was always a lively place at dinner, especially at the beginning of the new year, friends reunited after the long summer apart to tell stories of family trips, but with the Triwizard Tournament, the hall was nearly frantic with excitement. Older years bragged about their plans to enter, what they’d do with their winnings, what trials they might face. Younger years gossiped wildly, wondering who from the other schools where coming, what might they be like? Hari enjoyed listening to the Weasley siblings argue, Ron furious that the twins will get to enter, Ginny rolling her eyes at the idea, confident that the wraith of Molly Wealsey alone would be enough to stop the inevitable.

There were even student shouting across to other tables, Ravenclaws making deals with Slytherins – agreeing to exchanges of help if the champion came from their houses.

“Surely that’s cheating?” Hermione pointed out as Cassius Warrington and Marcus Belby shook hands near the top of the Slytherin table, Hari let her eyes wonder further down, inevitably it seemed, to Malfoy.

The blonde’s gaze was already waiting or her. She looked as perfect as she always did, no evidence remained of the frantic panic of the Quidditch World Cup. Malfoy inclined her head to the door pointedly, Hari finished up and made an excuse to leave the hall early. She found Malfoy leaning in an alcove further down the hall.

“You look like sh*t, Potter.” She said by way of greeting, Hari rolled her eyes.

“Missed you too, Malfoy.” She replied sarcastically.

“Of course you did; I’m delightful company.” Malfoy replied with half smile, her stormy grey eyes warming slightly. “Tonight? Usual time and place?”

“I mean… if I can spare the time, I’m very popular.” Hari said with a sigh, pretending to check her nails in mimic of the other girl.

“Well, I can always just hang out with Myrtle instead, she makes for far more pleasant company.” Malfoy shrugged and made as though she planned to walk away, Hari laughed and grasped her wrist.

“See you tonight.” Hari said, squeezing gently before releasing the other girl, who rolled her eyes before heading down the hall.

Hari watched her go a moment, her platinum curtain of hair waving like silk behind her, it always looked warmer in the dark candlelight of the halls. Less a stark silver, and more a softer gold, Hari wondered if it felt as soft as it looked, she imagined it would feel like silk, almost watery as it passed over her fingers.

Not that she thought about touching Malfoy’s hair a lot, she hardly thought of it at all. Really.

No, Hari’s thoughts of Malfoy recently were mostly focused around the last time she’d seen her, whilst death eaters shouted unforgivables, Lucius Malfoy amongst them.

Hari never forgot who Dulcinea’s dad was, it was impossible not to remember really, but until the summer, Hari had forgotten what that meant.

Lucias Malfoy was a death eater, Hari didn’t know if he had that ugly tattoo, but she did know that he was the one who gave Ginny the diary in second year. And, whilst Dulcinea hadn’t said it exactly, she more or less confirmed that Lucias was amongst the group responsible for the attack at the World Cup, along with Narcissa Malfoy, Sirius’s cousin.

Hari knew that Dulcinea used to agree with the silly pure blood nonsense, heard the slurs she and her friends would hurl at Hermione and Dean, Hari had assumed Dulcinea had grown out of it, but now that she thought about it, there wasn’t any reason for her to believe that.

Had Hari just hoped that Malfoy had changed? Was there any reason for that to be true?

Yes, they were friends, sort of, but only where no one would see, and ultimately Hari was a half-blood, and the Potter’s were a very old wizard family, if Hari had been muggleborn, would Dulcinea ever have spoken to her at all?

Sirius seemed to believe that every Slytherin was evil until proven otherwise, he also said the same of his family, and Dulcinea was both… Even Remus had been hesitant to argue with Sirius on this, and Mary too. But it couldn’t be true… could it? Sirius was good, but he was Gryffindor. But then he said his cousin Andromeda – another one of Dulcinea’s aunts, was good, she had been a Slytherin but had married a muggle-born and was the opposite of everything her family represented. Regulus Black… he was an exception too, wasn’t he? He was a bit of an arsehole in potions, but he wasn’t evil… Dumbledore wouldn’t let him work at Hogwarts if he was… Hari thought of Quirrel, and Lockhart, and Moody casting crucio inches in front of Neville’s face…

She could just ask Malfoy, but she was already so prickly, especially when it came to her family. Even if Hari did ask her, what would she do if Malfoy said yes? What would Hari do if Malfoy said that she did still think pure-blood’s were better, that Voldemort was right. What if she agreed with her father?

Surely Dulcinea wouldn’t look her in the eye and say ‘Yes, I think your parents should have died.’. Even if Dulcinea agreed with all the pure blood rubbish, she couldn’t think murder was okay, she couldn’t. Could she?

Hari was deep in thought as she turned the corner back to the grand hall, her brow furrowed and gaze glued to the ground as she bumped into Cedric.

“Oh sorry – Hari!” Cedric said as he reoriented himself. “It’s good to see you.”

Hari blinked and shook her head, as if to shake the thoughts from her mind, before replying.

“Hey Cedric, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well, Happy Birthday by the way, sorry I didn’t get a chance to say it on the day, it’s been a busy week.” He offered with an easy smile, readjusting himself to lean against the hall entryway. Hari found herself returning it, relaxing slightly as she replied.

“I’ll say, were you as heartbroken as me to hear that quidditch is off for the year?”

“It’s not ideal, but there’s always next year.” He said cheerily, Hari’s frown made an immediate and unwelcome return.

“You’re not planning on entering the tournament, are you?”

“Uh, yeah actually, I was.” He said, blushing slightly. “You’re not a fan?”

“Just seems a bit… dangerous.” Hari said, chewing her lip, she thought of Hermione’s words ‘they cancelled it because of too many student deaths’ Ron had shrugged, ‘Dumbledore wouldn’t let it happen if he thought students might actually get hurt’ Hari hadn’t said anything in return at the time, her mind too occupied relieving all the near death experiences she’d had within the castle wall. “Don’t die, yeah?” She said eventually.

Cedric held his hand over his heart.

“Promise.” He said with a wink, and Hari couldn’t help but grin, her cheeks uncomfortably warm.

“Hey Cedric,” A sweet Scottish accent greeted from behind the Hufflepuff boy. “Oh hi Hari, gutting to hear about quidditch isn’t it?” Cho Chang popped up around Cedric’s shoulder.

“I was just saying the same thing, Cedric doesn’t agree.” Hari said, scowling at the older boy.

“That’s because Cedric is an idiot.” Cho said, shoving at the boys arm, knocking him slightly from his perch on the doorframe.

“Who needs enemies with friends like you, Cho.” Cedric said, rubbing his sore spot.

“I spent all summer mastering my strong braking, only for the cup to be cancelled, cancelled Cedric.” Cho said with exasperation.

“Maybe we could have seeker match at some point, I’ve been desperate to get some real practice on my firebolt.” Hari offered; Cho’s eyes lit up.

“Yes, Hari!” Cho grabbed the younger girl in a tight hug around her torso, she then turned her friend, one arm still wrapped tight around Hari’s shoulders. “See Cedric, this is how you support a friend in a crisis.”

Hari laughed and blushed slightly.

“Don’t worry, it’s entirely self-serving.” Hari assured, but Cho dismissed her and began eagerly planning their seeker match.

Hari was early to the bathrooms that night, thankfully Myrtle was nowhere to be found, and so Hari was left with nothing but her thoughts as she paced the second floor girls bathroom. She scanned the map idly, it was just Filch out that night, all the other professors where in their rooms, aside from Moody who was sat behind his desk, and Dumbledore who paced in his office – he was having a meeting with Mr Crouch – they seemed to do that a lot.

Dulcinea Malfoy’s name was only down the corridor now, Hari put the map away and took off her cloak, folding it to use as a cushion to sit on the floor by the tall stained glass windows. Hari watched the mermaids in the mosaic brush their hair and flick their tails, she heard Dulcinea enter and take a seat next to her. Hari saw her unshrink a parcel out the corner of her eye, then pass it to her.

“What’s this?” Hari asked, taking the bundle curiously.

“A dragon, obviously.” Dulcinea said with a roll of her eyes. Hari smirked as she began to unwrap the paper. “It’s the ‘reparations for the hard-ships of half-blood kind’ you requested.” She quoted, Hari felt her smile sour on her mouth, a joke they’d shared over the summer now causing an anxious twist in her throat after Hari’s worries that morning.

“I wasn’t serious about that, you know.” Hari said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Obviously, Potter. It’s a gift you knob, for your birthday, if you like.” She said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Hari smiled then finished opening the box to find a pair of glasses, almost identical to the ones she was wearing.

“Glasses?” Hari asked, an amused smile tugging at her lips, then she picked them up and the boring black wire began to change into a thin gold metal frame, with delicate swirls on the arms. She gasped. “They’re so pretty.”

She turned to Dulcinea who was smiling smugly.

“Of course they are, the latest from Italy, the design changes to suit the wearer. The lenses have the usual prescription adaption, scratch repellent and anti-fogging charms, they’re also spelled to not fall off, borderline indestructible, so I’m told.” Dulcinea explained with a flourish, clearly proud of her purchase.

“Malfoy, this is too much.” Hari said after a pause. “It’s too nice.”

“I shall have to save the memory of you calling me ‘too nice’, it would make impeccable black mail material.” She answered with a playful sneer. “But really it’s not a big deal, pocket change to a Malfoy.” She argued.

“Dulcinea…” Hari started. Malfoy sighed with annoyance.

“If it’s really that big a deal, you can use your massive Potter fortune to buy me something sickeningly expensive for my birthday – the 5^th of June.”

“I know when your birthday is, Malfoy.” Hari said, then carefully took off her glasses and switched them with their lovely replacement, her vision cleared a with few blinks. “Wow, I really did need a new prescription.” She laughed at the clarity of the room around her, she turned to the girl at her side, who seemed to be watching her carefully. Her silverly eyes inspecting the gift, and how it sat on the girl in front of her, Hari felt her cheeks heat at the scrutiny. “Thank you, Dulcinea. They’re perfect.”

Dulcinea’s cheeks pinked and she turned away.

“Obviously, Malfoy’s have impeccable taste.” She dismissed with a wave of slender hand. You father included? Hari nearly asked, but she swallowed the words. “What did Granger and Weasley get you? It better be good after what they pulled this summer.”

Hari sighed, placing the box with her old glasses to the side.

“It’s not Hermione’s fault, and Ron didn’t even know. Dumbledore manipulated her into it, I don’t blame her.” Hari argued.

“Weasel didn’t know?” Malfoy asked, a quirk of her brow.

“Weasley.” She corrected. “And no, he’s sh*t at keeping secrets.” Hari laughed, remembering all the times he’d told her what he was getting her for Christmas, even when she hadn’t asked.

“You told me.” Dulcinea said quietly, Hari turned to the other girl, who was looking at nothing in particular, somewhere off in the middle-distance.

“Yeah, I mean we’ve been friends for nearly a year, and you haven’t told anyone.” Hari said with a dismissive shrug.

“That secret is for my benefit, you don’t lose anything from people knowing.” The blonde reminded her, “You trusted me.” She said, her voice full of disbelief.

“Should I not have?” Hari asked, she hadn’t even considered the weight of it when she had told Dulcinea where she was over the summer, even if she hadn’t said directly, she’d given her more than enough to figure it out.

“With our history? Probably not.” Dulcinea was looking at her now, a frown at her brow, she looked almost concerned.

“Well, I don’t regret it.” Hari said finally with another shrug.

“Yet.” Dulcinea added, as if warning her, Hari rolled her eyes.

“You’re so dramatic.” She gave her a light shove. “Anyway, that shrinking and unshrinking thing you did,” Hari started, changing the subject, “Where did you learnt that? We haven’t covered anything like it in transfiguration.”

“Oh that?” Dulcinea brushed off, “A simple spell, mother taught it to me when I was little.”

“Outside of Hogwarts?” Hari asked, her eyes bugging slightly, “What about the trace?” She whispered, as if they may be overheard.

“The trace isn’t all that sophisticated, most pure-blood families have wards in their homes, to block any forms of traces.” She said easily, as if the information wasn’t world shattering to Hari.

“Ron’s family don’t.” Hari mentioned.

“Most pure bloods.” Dulcinea said with a shrug.

“So, you do magic outside school, all the time?” Hari squeaked.

“More or less.”

“Teach me!” Hari exclaimed, grasping Dulcinea’s arm desperately. “I always wondered how pure bloods knew so much more magic than the rest of us!” Hari gasped excitedly. “Show me the spells you know, please?”

Hari hadn’t realised the Dulcinea had tensed up until she’d finished, blushing, she released her grip on the other girl and sat back. Dulcinea recovered quickly and sat up, considering carefully.

“I suppose I could show you a thing or two…” She pondered, an unpainted nail taping her pink lip gently. “In return, you can teach me how to summon a Patronus.” She offered, finally meeting Hari’s gaze, the second girl didn’t even think before nodding enthusiastically.

Hari quickly stood and drew her wand.

“Let’s do it!” She nearly shouted with excitement.

“What now? Here?” Dulcinea motioned to the room around them, still sat on the floor.

“Oh yes, I suppose we’ll be heard here.” Hari paused, considering carefully, then her gaze found the sink, that she had tried to show Dulcinea last year, before Black had interrupted. She smiled mischievously then, before Dulcinea could say anything, Hari marched to the same spot and whispered her command, the stone was already creaking by the time Dulcinea was on her feet.

“Harriet! What are you doing?” She hissed, Hari shrugged and smiled with a cheek that would definitely earn her a smack on the arm from Hermione.

“What? It’s private, no one will know, and there’s plenty of space.” Hari listed on her fingers.

“And the giant basilisk corpse?” Dulcinea hissed, she was closer now, her eyes glancing quickly from Hari to the entrance now open on the ground.

“We’ll work around it.” Hari said simply.

“You’re absurd.” Dulcinea said, not for the first time, she shook her head but then seemed to lose the argument she was having with herself. “Not tonight, it’s already too late and I don’t know any spells that will helps us get out again.” She gestured to the not insignificant drop down.

Hari conceded on that at least.

“This Saturday,” Dulcinea offered, “We’ve no quidditch practice this year, can you get away during the day?”

Hari considered it a moment then nodded. “After lunch. I’ll bring a ladder.”

“You’re a witch, Potter. We’ll make one.”

Chapter 18: Nobody Does it Like You Do

Chapter Text

“What’s got you so excited?” Ron asked Hari at lunch.

“Nothing, why?” Hari quickly made an effort to stop her leg from bouncing, instead scooping up a mouthful of fish pie.

“You just seem… weird.” He said, Hari rolled her eyes and acted as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, whilst making a great effort not to glance over to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was.

Hari was feeling even more guilty about meeting with Malfoy than she usually was, it was more than just lying to her friends, it was also lying to them so she could learn magic from Malfoy – magic she only knew because she was a pure-blood, magic she was probably only teaching her because she was Harriet Potter.

It was only until she was in bed after their meeting that Hari had realised just how unfair the whole thing was, that apparently all the rich pure-blood kids were exempt to the trace. She thought back to all the times she’d been so behind in first and second year, whilst wizard born students seemed to have no trouble. She thought of all the nights Hermione would stay up until midnight, scouring her textbooks to try and catch up. Hari remembered Hermione crying one morning; she’d been working all week on transfiguring a feather into a windpipe but never quiet managed it, missing meals and sleep to practice the spell. On the day it was due, Hermione broke down in the dorm room as she struggled with her tie. Hari had thought she was overreacting, awkwardly patting the other girl’s back as she hugged her legs and sobbed, but then Hermione told her what the other students called her.

“They all think I’m stupid and rubbish at magic, that I’ll never be as good as them because I’m a m-mudblood! I have to prove them wrong! I have to work harder and better, or they’ll be right.”

No one had called Hari that word before, even though technically she was one, she had muggle family so she counted as ‘mudblood’. But she’d never heard it thrown at her, because she’s ‘Harriet Potter’ Hermione had said, ‘No one questions whether you’re really a witch.’

Hari convinced herself it would be okay, she would teach Hermione anything she learnt anyway, and it was important for Hari to know these things, if Voldemort really did come back, she needed to be prepared. Ron and Hermione would understand.

Once she’d finished eating, Hari quickly jumped from the table, offering a quick goodbye to her friends before fleeing the hall, heading straight for the second floor bathroom. It felt strange to not have her cloak around her, to enter their meeting place in the light of day. It was still abandoned however, and she understood why as soon as she stepped into the toilets, Myrtle was out in full force.

“Oh, it’s you.” Myrtle scowled at Hari as soon as she entered.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Hari asked with an eye roll.

“You are so rude Harriet Potter.” Dulcinea’s voice came from behind, Hari turned to greet her.

“Hello, Dulcinea!” Myrtle called, passing straight through Hari, leaving behind an uncomfortable chill.

“Hello Myrtle.” Dulcinea greeted politely, Hari decided to leave them to it, knowing her presence was unwelcome. Myrtle seemed to like Malfoy for some unknown reason, and had become quiet jealous of Hari co-opting their time in the bathroom.

Hari sent a locking charm on the door, then turned and commanded the chamber open, whilst Dulcinea chatted politely with the ghost. Once the sinks had folded away into the ground, Hari recited the incantation she’d found in a transfiguration text book, summoning a rope ladder that unfurled on the lip of the entrance. She tested it with a tug then, satisfied it would hold, turned to Dulcinea.

“You coming?” She called impatiently, interrupting whatever the two were talking about. Dulcinea said goodbye to the other girl then joined Hari at the entrance.

“You could be more polite, it never hurts to be friendly with the ghost.” Dulcinea scolded her.

“I can’t believe you’re lecturing me about being nicer to people.” Hari scoffed, before turning around to begin her descent on the ladder. Once she was halfway down, Dulcinea joined her.

“Polite, not nice, there’s a difference.” Malfoy schooled, “Example – Weasel is nice” She explained, sounding pained at giving Ron a somewhat compliment “but he is terribly rude. My mother has flawless manners, most would agree however, that she is not nice.”

Hari jumped down the last rung of the rope, landing soundly onto the collection of bones with a loud crunch. Ah, she’d forgotten about that.

“Well, I know what I’d rather be.” Hari said, kicking away some of the bones to create a clear patch for Dulcinea to land on.

She stepped from the ladder with a far more elegant step.

“Of course you do.” Dulcinea said absently, not looking at Hari, instead letting her gaze explore the darkness around them. They both cast a lumos and used their wands to guide them through the tunnels.

“There’s a main chamber up this way, there was a collapse whilst we were down here, so we may have to move some rubble around.” Hari pointed down a rounded corridor, before heading down, Dulcinea followed close behind.

“I can’t believe I’m in the chamber of secrets right now, Salazaar Slytherin built this place.” Her voice was full of reverence as she let her wand trail over the walls.

“S’alright, I suppose.” Hari shrugged.

“Honestly, all this girl-who-lived stuff is wasted on you, Potter.” Malfoy frowned, “All the knowledge you have access to…”

Hari stopped in her tracks, turning on the other girl with glare, Malfoy paused and met Hari’s gaze.

“What?” She asked incredulously.

“You’re unbelievable!” Hari shouted in frustration. “I stopped Voldemort three times, but no because I don’t think Salazaar Slytherin – famed dark wizard – is the dogs bollocks, it’s wasted on me.” Hari through her arms up in the arm, Malfoy blushed slightly.

“You shouldn’t say his name.” She said quietly. Hari huffed.

“Why not?” She said, hand on her hips. “What’s Voldemort going to do? Try and kill me?” Hari took a step forward, Malfoy stepped back. “Cause he’s tried, three times, Voldemort isn’t actually as good at killing kids as you’d think.”

“Potter, don’t.” Malfoy warned.

“What? Say Voldemort?” Malfoy flinched, which just made Hari angrier. “Well I don’t care! Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!” Hari was nearly screaming it now, each time Malfoy took another step back, wincing as though she were being struck. “Why are you so afraid of him?!”

“Why aren’t you?!” Malfoy finally snapped back. “LIke you said, tree times he’s tried to kill you, the most powerful wizard of a generation! You should be scared!”

“Because it doesn’t matter!” Hari shouted, “It doesn’t matter if I’m scared of him, he’s going to come back anyway, and when he does he’s going to try and kill me, because that’s all he bloody does. And me not saying his name or sh*tting my knickers isn’t going to change that! It’s like being afraid of the rain or getting sick, it’s inevitable and I’m not gonna spend my time being afraid when I can just, get on with it!”

Malfoy stared at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“’Get on with it’? Just ‘get on with it’ when the Dark Lo-“

“Voldemort.” Hari cut in.

“When he is planning on returning, and his first stop is going to be killing you?”

“What do you suggest I do?” Hari demanded, folding her arms across her chest.

“I don’t know! Run? Scream? Piss yourself then jump from Ravenclaw tower?” Malfoy shouted, “All of that seems far more reasonable than acting as if nothing is happening.”

“I’m not doing nothing.” Hari frowned, “I am getting my friend to teach me more magic, I’m going to get strong and I’m going to rely on those I love, and I’m going to survive.”

“That’s it?” Malfoy asked, “Keep calm and carry on?”

Hari rolled her eyes.

“I thought as a Malfoy, you’d approve.” She smirked, Dulcinea straightened her spine a little, stepping away from the wall she’d pressed herself against.

“Well I suppose I should set a good example for you then.” She declared, before overtaking Hari to head down the tunnel, looking as dignified as one could whilst hunched in a cistern.

It took them a good hour or so to finally get to the main chamber, it seemed the collapse had been worse than Hari remembered, both girls exhausted themselves by floating rubble out of their way. When they finally reached the path lined with all those snake heads, they both froze.

“Holy sh*t.” Hari gasped, Malfoy’s head snapped to the other girl.

“Why are you surprised, you’re the one that killed the thing.” She asked.

Hari stared at the giant creature, it was almost the exact same as it had when she’d last seen it, it didn’t look like it had decomposed at all in the last eighteen months. It’s leathery skin almost perfectly intact, mouth agape – the wound where Hari had stabbed it staring at her like the rest of its bloody red eyes. The scar on Hari’s arm where its fangs had sunk in began to ache.

“It’s just- bigger than I remember.” She said finally, her hand grasping at her right arm.

“How did you do it?” Malfoy asked, not moving from Hari’s side, neither girls dared approach it.

“Sword.” Hari said.

“Huh.” Was all the reply she got. “Do you still want to use this place?” Malfoy gestured to the ruin around them.

“And deny you the opportunity to practice magic in the Chamber of Secrets?” Hari asked with a shaky laugh.

“I’d live.” She said simply.

“It’s fine, really.” Hari assured. “Let’s just, practice in one of the bigger tunnels.”

They head back the way they came, using a larger section of the cistern, they began with the shrinking and unshrinking spell, using rocks and rat bones they found around them. It wasn’t a difficult spell, and Hari was able to use it with ease fairly quickly, they then moved on to a vanishing spell. Hari watched in awe as Malfoy disappeared a skull, Hari tried to imitate it but struggled, only managing to vanish half a mouse spine.

“It’s a tricky one, we won’t learn it until next year, but it’s handy.” Dulcinea explained, “Practice it between now and next time.” Hari tried once more, frustrated but once again didn’t succeed, giving up she gave the rock a kick. Malfoy rolled her eyes. “You promised to teach me the Patronus spell.” She reminded the other. Hari sighed.

“Fine, okay.” She shook her shoulders, removing the residue anger. “The key to this spell is focusing on a happy memory, the happier the better, Remus says that the main reason someone might struggle is not being able to think of something.” She explained.

“But not you?” Malfoy asked, Hari gave an ironic laugh.

“No, it took me months to find one happy enough.” She answered, “It’s a tricky spell and may take a while, but once you’ve got the memory in mind, it gets a lot easier.”

Malfoy nodded, then closed her eyes, frowning slightly in focus.

“Got one?” Hari asked eventually, Dulcinea opened her eyes and nodded. Hari smiled then drew her wand to demonstrate.

Hari thought of the day at the beach with Remus and Sirius, of ice cream and the smell of sea water, the itch of sand between her toes, she let out a breath before summoning.

“Expecto Patronus.” It felt strange not to shout the words, she realised she hadn’t cast it since the night at the lake. Sure enough, a silvery blue shade emerged from her wand, in the shape of Padfoot, she smiled fondly at the dog as it bound out and leapt around the chamber, before disappearing again. “It’s unlikely to take a shape at first, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t successful.” Hari said, “Have a go.” She gestured for Dulcinea to cast, the blonde nodded once before readying herself, then she cast.

Nothing happened.

Dulcinea frowned at her wand, then tried again, nothing. She growled this time and shouted the words, as though she could scare her patronus into appearing.

Hari shook her head with a small smile.

“S’not happy enough.” She said simply, Dulcinea scowled.

“How happy does it need to be?” She huffed, then tried again. Nothing.

“I use a different memory now, but at first I remembered the day I got Hedwig.” Hari explained, “Hagrid gave her to me when he took me to Diagon Alley for the first time, I’d never received a gift before, or had a friend really. It was the happiest I’d ever been, after getting my Hogwarts letter.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, Potter.” Dulcinea said, Hari blushed.

“Well, what are you using?” Hari asked heatedly.

“The day I got on the Slytherin quidditch team.” Malfoy said with a shrug.

“Well no wonder it didn’t work.” Hari rolled her eyes.

“Why not?” She asked defensively.

“Your happiest memory is the day your father bought you onto the quidditch team?” Hari asked, crossing her arms.

“f*ck you, Potter.” Malfoy hissed, turning on the other girl.

“What, am I wrong?” Hari responded, “You need a better memory than that, one more genuine, where you felt safe, happy, loved.”

“Well maybe I don’t bloody have one.” Malfoy shouted, her cheeks flushed.

“And you said I was sad.” Hari replied, then regretted it immediately, when she saw the brief flash of hurt in Dulcinea’s eyes, then it was gone and her cruel sneer took it’s place. “I’m sorry, Malfoy. That was –“

“Shut it, Potter.” She hissed, then turned and left the way they came. Hari sighed and followed, knowing the other girl wouldn’t be able to get past the locked doors without her. They walked in silence as they left, a heavy tension laying between them, when they reached the ladder, Hari let Malfoy go first. She followed, but by the time she was halfway up, she heard the bathroom door slam closed, and she was alone.

Hari didn’t see Dulcinea outside of the great hall and class again until Hermione’s birthday, dinner had come to an end and Hari, Ginny and Ron were singing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs as they headed to Gryffindor tower for butterbeer and cake. Hermione was hiding her face and storming ahead of her friend, hiding her laughter behind the book Hari had given her at dinner. The twins cleared the way ahead, announcing the arrival of the birthday girl, much to her horror.

“Oh look, it’s the Weasley’s and their strays.” A mean voice called from behind, “Really, did their parents not teach them that you shouldn’t feed wild animals? They only come back.” Hari tried to her hide her disappointment at seeing Malfoy stood with Pansy and Theodore Nott at her side. Bullstrode seemed absent for once.

“Shove off, Malfoy.” Ron grunted, “We’re not interested.” Hari was impressed, it was unusually diplomatic of him to not take Malfoy’s easy bait. The Slytherin in question seemed equally surprised, but disappointed, she tried again.

“It’s so kind of you to take the, disadvantaged and help them with wizarding society, but really it is rather like the blind leading the deaf, wouldn’t you say Pans?” She turned to the shorter girl, who’s dark bob framing her cruel and beautiful face.

“Or the blind leading the blind.” Pansy spat. Ron went to take step forward – clearly at his limit for civility – Hari grabbed his arm.

“As disappointing as this interaction has been, Malfoy.” Hari gave her best go at indifference, ignoring the tightness in her chest. “I think we’ll be going now.” Hari dared to turn her back on the three of them, which she quickly realised was a mistake, she felt the tingle of magic in the air at the same time Ron gasped. Then there was another, dark spark of magic and a scream erupted from Pansy, Hari turned to see Malfoy gone, and a white ferret remaining.

Professor Moody had his wand drawn, approaching the crowd, the ferret was running madly as he flicked his wand to lift the small creature in the air. Without thought Hari pulled out her wand.

“Expelliarmus!”

Moody’s wand flew from his hand and clattered to the ground, Hari quickly grabbed the ferret out of the air.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, POTTER!” Moody bellowed, but Hari raised a wand and took a step back.

“Someone, get McGonagall.” Hari said, she didn’t know how she managed to stay calm. “We should get Malfoy to the infirmary.”

“No need, Miss Potter.” Professor McGonagall wore a carefully schooled expression, and held out her hand, Hari hesitated a moment before passing Malfoy back to her. “I shall meet you at Professor’s Dumbledore’s office, go at once.”

Hari looked to Moody, his remaining eye looked like thunder as he glared past McGonagall, straight at her.

“Of course, Professor.” Hari nodded and left, not taking her gaze off of Moody for a moment, even disarmed she didn’t dare turn her back on the man.

“Professor Moody, kindly follow me.”

Hari didn’t meet Dumbledore’s gaze, but felt his soft blue eyes on her, he leant back in his chair staring down his half moon spectacles. She tried not to fidget; her eyes trapped on her lap.

“I must say I am surprised to see even you here this early, Harriet.” He said eventually, Hari fought off a frown, then cleared her throat.

“Am I expelled, sir?” She asked eventually, the elderly wizard laughed, not unkindly.

“No, dear girl. You’re not expelled.” He sounded almost jovial, Hari dared to peak up at him, he was smiling.

“I attacked a teacher.” She scoffed.

“You disarmed a professor, yes.” He said, somewhat serious. “This will not go unpunished, you understand. But is hardly worthy of expulsion.”

Hari looked down at her hands again, they still shook.

“Professor Moody has unconventional-“ Hari couldn’t hold back a snort.”-methods, I think we will all take time to get used to each other, don’t you agree?”

Hari opened her mouth, then let it close. She imagined she looked much like a fish.

“Good.” Dumbledore finalised with a kind smile, as though they had just reached an agreement, he then stood from his chair, moving to stroke Fawkes gently. “There is another matter to discuss, the events of this summer.”

Hari swallowed dryly, her eyes falling back to her lap. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, never mind talking with him.

“Do you understand how much danger you had put Sirius Black in?” Hari’s head snapped up at the words, that was the last thing she expected to hear the headmaster say. “Whilst you and I know the truth of his innocence, the ministry does not, and whilst Peter Pettigrew remains uncaptured his name cannot be cleared.” His voice was stern.

“I know that.” Hari said spitefully, she was more than aware that if it weren’t for Pettigrew escaping, Sirius would be able to be her legal guardian right now.

“It was very fortunate that the auror that helped find you, was a friend of mine. Anyone else and Sirius would have been taken back to Azkaban.” Hari cringed at the words, she’d known Sirius was risking a lot by looking after her with Remus, but hadn’t known how close it was. “If you were to take such a risk again… I may not be able protect him a second time.” And then the knut dropped. Hari looked up to meet his gaze then, his blue eyes twinkled with a smile that she guessed was supposed to reassure her. She didn’t believe it this time. She knew what he meant, she swallowed.

“How did you find out that I wasn’t with the Dursley’s? They didn’t report me missing.” She said, using all of willpower to stop her voice shaking and hold his gaze.

“After the events of the previous summer, precautions were taken to ensure your safety.” It wasn’t an answer, but she knew that’s all she would get from him.

Hari could do nothing but nod, she soon found herself outside the Gryffindor common room. She was greeted by Hermione and Ron in their usual spot by the fireplace, heads bent down anxiously chattering. The common room was full, as was normal for a Friday evening.

“Hari!” Hermione called her over, she joined them, plumping down in the armchair they’d saved for her. “Are you alright? What happened?”

It took Hari a moment to remember the reason for her meeting with Dumbledore.

“I have detention with McGonagall next week.” She said simply.

“That it?” Ron asked, his light eyebrows disappearing under his messy fringe. Hari nodded.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Hermione offered. “Considering….”

“Considering you went barmy and attacked a professor.” Ron finished, lacking Hermione’s careful tone.

“He attacked Malfoy.” Hari defended, “Is she okay?”

“Who bloody cares, she deserved it.” Ron scoffed, throwing himself back into the sofa he was sharing with Hermione, who smacked his leg, disapproving.

“She’s fine, McGonagall new the counter spell, she’s in the infirmary now.” Hermione answered, looking grim. “Apparently, she has a few broken bones. McGonagall is furious.”

“I didn’t see her, Dumbledore dismissed me before she arrived.” Hari said, hoping for more information without revealing herself too much.

“Called Moody ‘barbaric’.” Ron said, giving a poor impression of McGonagall’s accent with a roll of his eyes.

“It was,” Hermione’s voice rose an octave. “If Hari hadn’t stopped him, or McGonagall hadn’t been there…”

“Why did you stop him?” Ron asked, turning back to Hari.

Hari didn’t have an answer to that.

“I didn’t really think, just, did it?” She offered; Ron snorted.

“Only you would disarm a bloody retired Auror at fifteen without thinking.” Ron huffed, his tone unusually harsh, he seemed… angry with her?

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday celebration, ‘Mione.” Hari apologised, “We can make up for it at Hogsmeade tomorrow?”

“Oh-“ Hermione dismissed her with a wave of her hand, “-I don’t like to celebrate anyway, besides, you got me this amazing book!” She held up the tomb in question, it was the same one she’d bought over the summer. “I hadn’t thought about looking into the history of the miner’s union in relation to house elves! This is perfect for S.P.E.W!” Ron and Hari shared a look, he seemed to be as confused as her, eventually the ginger boy shrugged and turned to her friend.

“What’s S.P.E.W, ‘Mione?” And that was probably the best gift he could have given her, listening to her talk about her fight for house elf rights for the evening.

Hari woke up early the next morning, dressing silently, tucking her shrunken broom in the pocket of her invisible cloak. Hopefully, Hermione would assume she’d gone to practice flying before breakfast. She didn’t feel ashamed for checking on Malfoy, and even though she’d behaved like an utter elitist arse, she still felt the need protect her secret for her. Because ultimately it was her secret, Dulcinea had been right, Hari was in no danger from it.

The sun was still sat snuggly over the horizon, the night looming still, as Hari made her way to the infirmary. She left the map, which she realised might have been a mistake, she would simply have to hope Madam Pomphrey was still in her rooms. She pushed through the small hospital doors, letting it close softly behind her, the room appeared silent and empty, aside from the shadows of sleeping bodies behind blue curtains.

Dulcinea lay asleep on a bed closest to Pomphrey’s office, Hari stepped around the curtain to find her looking much like a ghost. Long white hair braided and laying softly against white skin, contrasted by the navy pajamas she wore below the stiff bedsheets. Hari stared at her a moment, realising the folly of coming in so early, of course she would still be asleep. Hari scanned her long limbs, hidden below the blankets, she seemed unharmed now, but that was no surprise - Madam Pomphrey knew what she was doing.

She looked so much smaller then, Hari had gotten used to the other girl looking down on her, sneering and mocking. Now she looked so soft, he face unmarred by the anger and hatred she felt for Hari. She quickly turned to leave, when she heard a sound break behind her.

“Potter?”

No, she couldn’t have known she was there, she was under her cloak, and Malfoy was asleep.

“I know you’re there, Potter.” She was more awake now, and annoyed, Hari turned to see Dulcinea looking around the room with suspicion. Hari laughed at the sleepy frown folding her forehead, that drew the silver gaze straight to her. She slipped of her cloak.

“Hi.” She said, sheepishly. Dulcinea’s face softened for a moment, but it was only a moment.

“Come to gloat?” She hissed into the quiet. Hari took a step forward.

“No, no of course not.” She shook her head. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Malfoy narrowed her eyes.

“Why?”

Hari had to work to hold back a bitter laugh.

“Because I was worried, you idiot.” Hari whispered. “Clearly you’re on the mend, so I’ll just go.”

“Wait!” Malfoy worked to keep her voice low, Hari stopped. “I- I heard what happened, after I was – turned into a – um” She shook her head. “I don’t remember it myself, but you- you attacked Moody?” Her question came out so stunted and inelegant, it was so unlike her.

“I just disarmed him. People exaggerate.” Hari shrugged awkwardly.

“You disarmed a professor?” Malfoy sounded bored now. “And you’re not expelled? Of course, could never do that to Dumbledore’s golden child.”

Hari couldn’t keep up with Malfoy’s mood swings most days, and then she was far too tired to try.

“I don’t belong to Dumbledore.” She snapped. “I don’t ask for special treatment, never have. I did what I thought was right. There’s something not right about Moody and I thought he might-“ She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, you’re fine and safe, I’m gonna go.” Hari pulled her broom out of her cloak and enlarged it again, people would be awake now, she’d head to breakfast after looping the quidditch pitch a few times.

“You’ve gotten good at the spells I taught you.” Dulcinea said, and it made Hari pause.

“Yeah, nearly got the vanishing one down now. It works 80% of the time.” Hari shrugged, embarrassed. “What I said about-“

“It’s fine.” Malfoy cut her off. “You were right, it is rather pathetic to have your happiest memory be your father bribing you onto the quidditch team.”

Hari wanted her to keep talking, so she stayed silent.

“My mother was seeker for Slytherin; when she was at school. From the moment she told me about it, I knew I wanted to do the same.” She was speaking so softly now, and Hari didn’t move, fearing that if she drew attention to herself, then she’d stop. “It was important to me, my father knew it was, he got me on the team because it made me and my mother happy.”

Dulcinea’s stormy gaze held Hari’s then, she didn’t dare look away.

“It’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for me. And I know, I know that’s not normal. I know family are supposed to be kind to each other and support each other, to believe in each other. But we don’t.” Her voice shook but her gaze was solid. They were silent for a long time.

“I wouldn’t know what a normal family is, Malfoy.” Hari said, after a while. “Before I used accidental magic for the first time, she – my aunt - was kind to me, she loved me. She treated me like her daughter. Then she found out I was a witch, she locked me in the cupboard under the stairs. I was treated how wizards treat house elves. I didn’t understand, I didn’t know I was a witch until I got my letter – which they tried to hide from me. I just thought I had done something wrong. Little monster, she called me, and that’s what I believed. I still believe it sometimes.” Hari finished with a sigh, unable to meet Dulcinea’s eyes any longer.

“I’m sor-“ Hari shook her head.

“Didn’t say it for pity.” She cut in. “I just want you to know that I understand, I don’t know what family is supposed to be either.”

Dulcinea nodded slowly.

“I’ll kick your bony arse if you tell anyone any of this.” Hari said.

“Likewise.”

They both nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to try again?” Dulcinea offered.

“Sure.” Hari agreed

Chapter 19: On Your Side

Chapter Text

The only consolation to detention with McGonagall was that Hari didn’t have quidditch practice to miss. She knocked on the door to the head of house office, it opened without a word and Hari entered, tugging on the strap of her bag; McGonagall detentions usually involved doing homework.

“Have a seat, Miss Potter.” Professor McGonagall was sat behind her desk, her quill working away on parchment without her influence.

“Evening, professor.” Hari greeted, moving to sit in the chair she’d been offered. A purple armchair across from McGonagall, who only nodded in acknowledgment.

“We haven’t had a chance to catch up since the new year began.” McGonagall said after a moment’s pause. “How have you been?”

Hari started a moment, shifting uncomfortable in the incredibly squishy chair. She did not want a repeat of her meeting with Dumbledore.

“Alright, ‘suppose.” She said with a noncommittal shrug. McGonagall eyed the young girl for a moment, but decided not to press the question.

“Miss Malfoy has made a perfect recovery, perhaps you will be pleased to know.” She offered, Hari just shrugged stubbornly again. McGonagall sighed wearily. “I cannot blame you for being distrustful of me, Harriet. I know it must have felt like a betrayal for us to interfere this summer.”

Hari looked up then, the professor was looking at her sympathetically, she looked away again.

“I hope you understand that we acted out of concern for you.” She said, Hari bristled.

“You didn’t seem that concerned last year, when I begged you not to send me back there.” Hari replied with a snap, McGonagall nodded.

“I know, and I’m sorry you had to go there to begin with. I said to Albus-“ She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now, but please rest assured that you will not go back to the Dursley’s again. They’ve shown themselves to be incapable of caring for you, handing you over to a stranger without question- Let’s just be glad that it is Mr Lupin they handed you to.” McGonagall took a moment to compose herself.

“So that was the nail in the coffin then? Not the beatings, not the starving, not allowing Dudley to treat me like a bloody toy. It was that they let me go, that’s what made you all decide that they were ‘incapable’.” Hari scoffed. “It was the best thing they ever did by me.”

“It was the best we could do under the circ*mstances.” McGonagall’s tone was sterner now, but still low and steady, and it infuriated the young witch.

“I have cousins in India, wizards, family. I could have gone to them; Remus was there and willing enough, as was my godmother. All of who I didn’t even know existed. Hell, a muggle children’s home would have been better.” Hari spat. “Leaving me in the f*cking street would have been better than them!” Hari shouted, she was sat up in her chair now, staring her professor down. Her words caught up with her and she looked away.

“Finished?”

Hari nodded.

“I understand your frustration Hari, and I want you to know that I am sorry.” McGonagall said as she held Hari’s gaze in an iron fist, the younger girl just stared, wary and hesitant, still stood as though ready to flea. “I’ve been a teacher for a long time Miss Potter, and I in that time I have believed myself to be a protector for my students, I believed myself someone they could come to in their time of need.” The older witch took a deep shaky breath. “Evidently, I have failed you.”

Hari gasped, as she watched her Professor’s eyes water, an intense wave of shame pooling in her stomach.

“Professor, you didn’t fail me, I-I” Hari gulped. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

McGonagall cleared her throat.

“Yes well, we’ll pretend that didn’t happen, shall we?” McGonagall motioned for Hari to sit, and she obeyed quickly. “Mary McDonald came to see me the other day.” Hari perked up at this, Mary hadn’t told her! “Yes, she’s asked me to assist her in gaining custody of you.”

Hari froze.

“Really?” She asked, voice quiet.

“I’ve told her I’ll do anything I can to help her, though I’m not sure how much that is.” McGonagall cleared her throat. “I understand that I haven’t supported you as I should before, but I ask you to give me another chance, if you need help, come to me. Please.”

Hari gulped and nodded, satisfied McGonagall returned the gesture, then nodded towards Hari’s bag.

“Best get started on your work then, you still have forty minutes of detention left.”

And that was that.

Hari was still drowsy from a lack of sleep when she arrived for her first class of the day, she’d been kept up by nightmares again, haunted by images of Sirius being taken away by aurors, not able to do anything but watch and scream.

It didn’t help that it was her first DADA lesson since ‘The Ferret Incident’, she hadn’t seen Moody since it happened, but she was certain he was still furious with her.

It was sure to be an eventful class.

She took a seat next to Hermione, Neville and Ron were sat behind them both, Hari hoped that Moody’s annoyance with her would distract him from approaching Neville again.

“Today we will be doing more work with unforgivable curses.” Moody announced from the front, without preamble, Hari felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. “Specifically, Imperius. With practice a resistance can be built to the curse, preventing you from being controlled. And that is what we will be doing this morning. Any volunteers?” The older man scanned the classroom with his working eye, the other seemed to flicker randomly in every direction. All the students began their best efforts to become invisible, slinking in their chairs and avoiding eye contact. Hari knew she needn’t bother.

“Miss Potter.” He said eventually, she flinched, even though she’d been expecting it. “If you’d like to stand at the front, bring your wand.”

Hermione shot her a sympathetic glance, her eyes asking a question, Hari gave a small shake of her head. Then she stood, wand in hand and took her place in front of their professor.

“Excellent.” He smiled gladly, then without hesitation darted his wand in her direction. “Imperio.”

Hari felt her insides pull, as though she’d launched on a broom, she gasped aloud at the discomfort, clenching at her chest with her free hand. And then all of sudden any discomfort vanished, as though a bucket of treacle had been dropped over her head, leaving her thoughts sticky and her vision clouded. She felt… calm. As though she had taken a dose of dreamless sleep.

“Miss Potter.” Hari looked to the voice. “Set your bag on fire.”

Hari felt her wand hand lurch forward, there was a small, distant voice that warned her that was a bad idea. But there was a much louder, more pleasant voice that told her that it was such a good idea.

“Incendia!” She gasped, her tongue moving against her will, she watched hopelessly as her bag burst into flames, she was suddenly very grateful to have left her map in her trunk that day.

Hermione was quick to put the flames out with her wand.

“Thank you. Miss Granger.” Moody said bitterly, then turned to Hari again. “Disarm Miss Granger.”

“Expelliarmus!”

Hermione’s wand flew from her grasp and landed in Hari’s hand.

I don’t like this.

The voice was getting louder, but Hari ignored it, the voice made her feel bad, it made her feel wrong. The calm was much nicer, she just had to obey.

“Excellent. Now use it to hex Miss Malfoy.”

No, don’t do that.

I don’t want to do that.

“Sir!” Hermione protested. “You can’t have her hex another sudent!” There was a rumbling of disquiet amongst the classroom.

The calm shivered, the treacle slipping from her eyes as the room came into focus, she looked to Hermione’s voice.

Hermione will stop it, Hermione will help. She always does.

“Quiet!” He shouted. “Resistance to this spell could save your lives one day. You may hate it now, but rather me use the curse than a death eater!” He snapped and the rumbling grew quieter.

“Harriet.” He snapped, and Hari glared at him. “Let’s keep it simple. Stinging hex.”

Hari dropped her own wand, moving Hermione’s wand to her right hand, it felt tingly and strange, but willing.

The calm was gone completely now, leaving only panic and fear, the voice now screaming through her mind, desperate to have her body belong to her again.

Then she looked at Dulcinea, she was glaring at Hari, sat towards the middle of the room, Pansy at her side. Hari noted Dulcinea’s wand in her hand, it would be fine, she could deflect it easily.

Her arm tugged against her will and she sent a stinging hex in Dulcinea’s direction, the blonde aptly deflected it, it ricocheted of her shield and narrowly missed Professor Moody.

“Hah!” He laughed coldly. “Again Potter.”

Hari gritted her teeth, clenching the wand tightly.

“Potter!”

Hari felt the magic swell in her arm, heading quickly to Hermione’s wand, the words swelling on her tongue. She bit down and pulled her wand arm with her left, pointing it at the ground in front of Moody. The magic hit the stone, as the ground cracked form the hex, Hari felt her insides settle, her shoulders sunk with relief as the dark magic fell from her.

“Excellent!” Moody limped over and pat Hari on the back, she cringed away from him. “Take a seat, Potter. You’ve done well.” Hari picked up her wand and returned to her desk, she handed the other wand back to Hermione.

“Sorry.” She whispered. “It’s still yours, I think.”

Hermione smiled.

“It’s okay.” She assured, squeezing Hari’s arm affectionately.

“Mr Zabini, you’re next.”

The lesson continued like that, though Hari noted sourly that no one else needed to set their belongings on fire. Zabini managed to resist the curse after her, as did Hermione. No one else managed to, Hari had received several hexes from Neville, but with no sleep and the curse still lingering in her limbs; she was in no state to block as effectively as Malfoy had.

“I’m really sorry, Hari.” Neville apologised for the thirtieth time that day, they were sat at dinner now, and Madam Pomphrey had already worked her magic to heal the bruises DADA had left her with. Unfortunately, the mediwitch couldn’t do anything for the scorch marks on her satchel.

“It’s alright, Neville. Not like you could help it.” Hari shrugged, wishing he’d just let it go.

“Yeah but you managed to stop yourself, so did Zabini and Hermione.” He frowned.

“Surprised you did honestly.” Ron said around a mouthful of chips. “You basically had a free pass to hex the sh*t out of Malfoy with no consequences.”

“Didn’t wanna give him the satisfaction.” Hari mumbled, grabbing herself another slice of gammon.

“You need to stop making enemies of DADA professors.” Ginny teased, “You’re not gonna make it the end of Hogwarts at this rate.”

“Maybe that’s the plan, rather death by DADA professor than having to take my OWLs.” Hari joked, much to Hermione’s displeasure.

“Really Hari, please don’t make jokes about that.” She scolded, Hari rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll stop investigating, provoking and attacking professors.” Hari promised solemnly. “Voldemort himself could start teaching divination and I would still be a model student.”

Ron snorted a laugh whilst Hermione’s frown deepened.

By the end of October, Dulcinea managed to produce the beginnings of a Patronus, it had no shape, just a whisp of silvery blue smoke, but it was something.

“The contestants from the other schools are arriving tomorrow.” Malfoy said absently as Hari worked on some more offensive spells, Hari didn’t ask Malfoy why she knew so many curses and hexes, in return, Malfoy didn’t ask why Hari wanted to know them.

“You excited for the tournament?” Hari asked, blasting a pillar of stone, using a shield charm to protect them both from the flying rubble.

“Should be interesting.” Malfoy answered, noncommittal, she was levitating shrapnel and throwing it at Hari at random intervals, she said it was to practice her awareness whilst attacking, but Hari suspected she was just bored.

“One word for it.” Hari said. “Supposed to be dangerous.” She added.

“Worried about your boyfriend?” Malfoy teased, chucking a sharp bit of rock towards Hari’s ankle, Hari decided to jump away from it rather than waste magic. Hari glared at Malfoy, who smirked.

“He’s not my boyfriend, but yes I am worried about Cedric.” Hari answered, “Are you going to practice anything, or just lounge?”

Unbelievably, Malfoy had transfigured herself a green velvet fainting couch, which she was currently laying on.

“I’m resting.” She defended, jutting out her chin. “Not your boyfriend, but you knew who I meant?”

Hari rolled her eyes but felt her cheeks get hot.

“Between you, the twins, Ron and Hermione making jokes about us- him –“ She corrected quickly, he face getting hotter. “It’s easy to tell who you mean, but I’m not just worried about him, the twins are putting their names in as well.”

“Well, on the plus side they likely won’t get in.” Malfoy shrugged as though it were obvious. “A Hufflepuff? Absolutely not. And the twins are only effective as a unit, they’d be useless on their own.”

Hari flicked up a rock with her wand and flung it in the other girls direction, it missed but the dust as it burst against the wall flew all over her sofa and her clothes. Hari smiled smugly.

“Ah!” Malfoy jumped up, the couch disappeared as she lost her concentration, she looked at her perfect hair now showered with rubble. “How rude!”

“Hufflepuff’s are more than capable, and the twins do exist outside of each other, you just don’t know them.” Hari scolded.

Malfoy rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes we all know. I have learnt from my prejudices.” She huffed as she bent down to pick up a stone then transfigured it into a comb, then began brushing her hair.

“You’re really good at transfiguration.” Hari commented, thoughtful.

“I’m good at everything, Potter. Hence you asking me to tutor you.” She dismissed as she vanished the comb and shook out her curtain of silvery hair.

“I didn’t ask you to tutor me, we agreed to an exchange of knowledge.” Hari corrected, she considered Malfoy for a moment, watching her use magic as easy as breathing, was that what it was like to be raised with it? For it to become so part of your nature you don’t even have to think. Hari was still forgetting her wand some days, it was all still so new for her, so foreign. “Do you know anything about animagi?” She asked, Malfoy stopped fixing herself and eyed Hari for a moment.

“I’ve read around it somewhat, but It’s not something that’s really interested me before. Why?” She said, sounding bored, Hari was learning how to identify when Malfoy was forcing that uninterested façade she so often adopted.

“I wanted to learn it.” Hari said. “My dad – he was one whilst at school. I have some reading on it, but from what I’ve found it’s easier to learn with someone.”

“Have you asked Granger? I’m sure she’s capable.” Her voice was tight, Hari knew Hermione being the top off all their shared classes was a sore spot for Malfoy.

“I wasn’t planning on registering.” Hari said carelessly, “She wouldn’t approve.”

Malfoy tapped her bottom lip with her index finger; the exaggerated pose she often took when pretending to consider something she had already decided, Hari didn’t say anything.

“I suppose I am curious as to what shape I’d take.” She said aloud. “And it would make excellent black mail material, should I need a favour from the Girl Who Lived.”

Hari rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold in the smile.

“I mean, if you can help me, of course.” Hari said, turning to consider their surroundings. “It is pretty advanced magic, beyond seventh year, mastery level even.”

Hari heard Malfoy scoff, but didn’t turn around, her smile only growing bigger.

“I’m sure if a Potter managed it whilst still at Hogwarts, it can’t be that complicated.” She said haughtily, and Hari knew what she’d say next. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

There was a palpable hum of excitement throughout the castle, that night the students eligible for the tournament would arrive from the other schools, along with the tourney goblet. Nearly every student eligible was thrumming with energy, goading each other to enter. Seamus had a pool going, of course, each possible contestant’s name written in his messy scrawl in his notorious little blue book. The twins had put money on each other, with knowing grins that Hari couldn’t help but find suspicious; no doubt they had a plan to try and rig the draw into their favour.

The great hall was decorated with banners for both the other schools, two new tables added next to the head table to allow for their upcoming guests.

“I heard Victor Krum is coming with Durmstrang.” Ron whispered excitedly to Hari as they sat at Gryffindor table.

“Wait, seriously?” Hari asked matching his enthusiasm, the seeker for Bulgaria was at the world cup, and Hari hadn’t been able to take her eyes of the player during their match. “Do you think I could get him to sign my broom?” Hari asked aloud.

“You already have one seeker boyfriend.” Ron teased with a light shove. “You planning on getting a collection?” Hari blushed and shoved him back harder.

“Shut up, idiot. He’s a good player, that’s all. And Cedric is not my boyfriend.” Hari could have sworn she heard Ron whisper a ‘yet’ under his breath, but before she could jab back, the doors swung open and the hall went silent.

Durmstrang entered first, and Ron was right, Victor Krum was with them. She saw Seamus began adding his name furiously to his blue book, Hari wouldn’t bother betting, his odds would be far too good.

Next was Beauxbatons, and amongst their numbers was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. She had hair that was long and fine, the colour of gold, she was tall with eyes a deep warm brown. She walked like she was flying, Hari couldn’t stop looking at her.

“She’s part veela.” Hari vaguely noted Hermione’s voice in her ear.

“What that mean?” Hari asked dumbly, Hermione elbowed her in the rib in response, finally breaking her leer.

“Veela, magical creatures known for their beauty. The effect is similar to love potions.” Hermione told her. Hari nodded, then noticed that nearly every boy in the hall was staring at the girl, her eyes found the Slytherin table and saw Dulcinea also staring. Hari had to fight to hold the laugh that bubbled in her chest at the dumbstruck look on the other girls face. Somehow Dulcinea seemed to hear her, she looked at Hari then blushed and turned away, seemingly looking at anything but the girl with veela blood.

“I’m in love.” Ron said, his voice sounding so dopey with awe.

“She is really pretty.” Hari said, unable to stop her gaze from landing on her again, she was sat now at the Beauxbatons table, ignoring the rest of the hall in favour of the friend beside her.

“Do you think she has a boyfriend?” Ron asked, Hari laughed, then Ron turned to her and she realised he was serious.

“Obviously she has a boyfriend, look at her!” Ginny half whispered.

Hermione made a sound of exasperation.

“Honestly, you’re drooling.” She scolded. Ron, Hari and Ginny all wiped at their chins. “Oh honestly! I expect this from the boys but you two.” Hari felt her cheeks get hot, she looked at Ginny who just shrugged and grinned, unabashed.

After speeches from each headmaster, dinner was revealed with all kinds of food from across Europe, it made a nice change from the usual meat and two veg they usually had on rotation. Once dinner was finished the goblet was revealed and there was a wave of excitement shaking through the hall, when they were dismissed there was a massive commotion as everyone put in their names or watched people put their names in.

Hari and the group made their escape to the Gryffindor common room, they sat on their usually corner by the fire place, Luna had joined them – though that was no surprise, she was practically a Gryffindor herself.

“Are your brothers really putting their names in?” Neville asked anxiously.

“Obviously,” Ginny answered, lounging on the sofa, letting her head fall leisurely onto Luna’s lap. Luna began braiding the ginger girls long hair without thought. “Mum’ll kill them for it though.”

“She won’t kill them, she loves them.” Luna corrected, Ginny smiled kindly.

“Who else do we know that’s entering?” Ron asked no one in particular.

“Cedric is, and Alicia, I don’t know anybody else.” Hari answered sitting cross legged on the floor by the fire. “Seamus was taking note when we left, I’m sure he’ll fill us in.”

“I don’t understand why anybody would.” Neville said, shaking his head.

“It’s 1000 galleons, Nev.” Ron answered as he set up his chess board, “Who wouldn’t?”

“Nah, not worth it.” Hari dismissed.

“’Course you’d say that.” Ron said, “Heir to the Potter fortune.” Hari rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m not an heir to a fortune, and I certainly wouldn’t.” Hermione said over the top of her book.

“I would.” Ginny said. “I bet it’d be fun as well, bet I’d beat you, Ron.” She said, shoving Ron lightly with her foot.

“Ram it, I’d so beat you!” Ron shouted back, batting her foot away, Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

“I think it would be fun, do you think we could team up, Ginny?” Luna asked.

“There aren’t teams.” Ron snorted, “And there’s only one student per school.” He dismissed, Luna frowned.

“That’s a shame.” She said sadly.

They sat and chatted like that for a while, then Seamus came and told them the names of all the student who entered. They learnt that the beautiful girl was called Fleur Delacour, they all pretended not to care to avoid further scolding from Hermione.

Chapter 20: Where You Don't See Me

Chapter Text

Hari had never liked school all that much, whilst primary school had offered her brief time away from the Dursleys, it really wasn’t an improvement. Sure, teachers weren’t allowed to hit kids anymore – something Vernon liked to complain about – but that didn’t mean they shouted at her any less, or didn’t make her sit in rooms on her own. At least at the Dursley’s she’d get to eat, sneaking bites of food or making herself a sandwich whilst she prepared lunch for Aunt Petunia and her friends, but at school there wasn’t anything for her, the Dursley’s wouldn’t pay for her school dinners and she wasn’t allowed to take food out of the house. School before Hogwarts was a just a place Hari would go to be shouted at for not listening, punished for fidgeting, where teachers called her lazy, stupid all the while unable to focus on anything but the empty gnawing pit in her stomach.

She didn’t blame them for it - though she could have done without the yelling – she was sh*t at school after all, her handwriting was unreadable, her spelling even worse, she wasn’t a particularly fast reader either. Whenever they read books in class she’d twist with anxiety until it was her turn, then she’d stutter and stumble over the words, to be met either by mean giggles or annoyed groans from her classmates. History had been fine, learning about the Egyptians and the Romans, Kings and Queens. She hadn’t minded maths either, though she’s certain her maths teacher hated her more than any of the others, each class ending with Hari finding some way to keep herself entertained when she finished her work too quickly, leading to a lecture about ‘disrupting her classmates’ before being sent to isolation. PE had been her favourite, especially swimming lessons, but eventually she started growing hair in places the other girls hadn’t yet, and the idea of having to change into shorts in front of them had her stomach rolling.

Overall, school had been a landmine of awkward encounters, never ending homework and just more mean adults.

But then Hari got to Hogwarts, and everything about school became so much better, so much more. History became History of Magic, maths was arthimancy, not to mention PE was now swapped for Quidditch, which was by far the best thing the wizarding world had ever come up with, apart from maybe the teeth brushing spell (a handy trick when you always forget to brush them manually before leaving for class).

There were downsides to wizard education of course; muggle studies was just a boring version of home economics, and she was still a little sore about missing out on design technology, and therefor wouldn’t be making any bird houses or learning how circuitry worked. But she was making up for it now, Hari had never thought she’d ever read a text book voluntarily, but there she was, sat on her bed with the book Hermione had given her for her birthday, and the scraps of what used to a radio laid out before her.

She was working on a birthday gift for Sirius, which was proving to be far more challenging than she expected, and was requiring much more complicated charm work than she’d hoped. The idea came to her when Sirius was on another whirlwind of cleanliness over the summer – like a hyper house elf he went around the manor, arranging and rearranging every room twice over. He’d charmed the record player to play loud enough so he could listen whilst he worked – which meant his music blared at hear splitting levels in every bloody room.

Hari at first planned to just charm a radio to follow Sirius around when he cleaned, but he was very picky about his music, so she needed one that would just amplify the sound from his record player. Hari had hoped it would be more electrical than magical, which she now knew was wishful thinking. With the help of her textbooks she had a rough blueprint for the muggle side – a speaker essentially, but instead of a wire for input, it would be an antenna – like a radio. It was just a matter of how she would get the signal out of the record player, and for the speaker to pick it up. There were several charms for mirroring sound – Howlers were the first thing that came to mind, but that was playing a magical recording of a voice, but it was a start at least. Hari scribbled notes into the margins of her text book, listing questions to ask Hermione – and if she was unable, then Flitwick – for the charms used in wirelesses (she didn’t understand why wizarding radios didn’t just use radio waves, another question for Flitwick).

Hari only had a few days left until Sirius’s birthday on the 3^rd November, and she wouldn’t have any time tomorrow; classes all day and then of course - Hallow’s Eve - the contestants for the Triwizard tournament would be announced.

Halloween was never a day Hari paid much attention to, the Dursley’s hated the day, Aunt Petunia would tutter about ‘American holidays’ and ‘landfill fodder’ whilst Vernon would declare loudly how he didn’t feed beggars whenever children made the mistake of knocking on 4 Privet Drive. Even Dudley wasn’t allowed to dress up or go trick or treating, though of course Petunia and Vernon would make up for it by buying enough sweets to give a small horse diabetes. To Hari, the day would come and go without note, she wouldn’t even know it happened some years.

That was, of course, before she knew it was the day her parents died.

Now, instead of a day like any other, it was a day that felt incredibly heavy with expectation of… something. Hari wasn’t sure what exactly, only that whatever it was that she supposed to do, say, or feel that day, she wasn’t doing it. It just felt… hollow.

Neville shared the day with her; their parents both attacked on the same night. The younger boy spent the day with his gran, disappearing after breakfast with slow footsteps and hunched shoulders, and returning the next morning almost lighter, somehow. Hari wanted to ask how that was, to find out what they did that allowed the boy to put down the smothering blanket of grief, where did it go? Surely someone had to carry it? They couldn’t just put it down, neglected like a child on a doorstep?

Perhaps she would find out this year; with the family she’d found for herself. Mary was taking her to Godrics Hollow; the place she lost her first mum and dad, and where they now rested. The perfect place – she hoped – to lay some of her grief down, just a small amount, and come back somewhat lighter.

Hari finished off her to-do list for her project – most points involved hassling Hermione – then cleared up the mess of wires and circuits, before tucking herself to sleep.

That night she dreamt of the feel of old wood on her belly, the taste of iron and fear on her tongue, the stroke of master’s withered hand on her scaled head and back. There were voices – both familiar and not – meagre and nervous, and another – manic and eager, and master’s voice – weak but getting stronger.

“The girl must be there! I demand it!”

Hari smothered a yawn in her palm as she waited in her head of houses office, her last class just finished as they waited for the chime of the floo.

“Are you not sleeping enough, Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked, looking at her over her floral teacup, Hari slurped down her tea quickly – pouring herself another cup that was far too sweet – hoping the sugar and caffeine would chase the linger of her nightmares.

“Too much I think, Miss.” Hari responded, taking her hand to forcibly hold her leg down to stop shaking, which just meant the other one started up – like blocking a leak in a bucket, the energy just found another way out.

“You’re father was similar you know, more energy than he knew what to do with.” McGonagall smiled fondly as she remembered. “He found exercise a suitable outlet, do you?”

Hari shrugged, she did find she was calmer on days after quidditch practice, but with the tournament this year it was all cancelled. Hari mentioned this to the Professor.

“Students are always welcome to book the pitch, I’m sure with you and the Weasley clan you could start a tournament of your own.” McGonagall smiled, and Hari knew the Quidditch mad professor must be just as disappointed as she was at the lack of matches this year.

“Yeah maybe, I think the other seekers would be keen as well.” Hari thought allowed, she knew Cho and Cedric would be up for it, Dulci would as well, though she might take some convincing to join the others. She caught another yawn in her throat.

“Really, Miss Potter, you need to sought your sleep.” She fussed, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you nodding off in my classroom.” Hari blushed under her professors scornful gaze, she’d thought she’d hidden her mid-lesson naps fairly well. “Is there something bothering you?”

Hari squirmed under the question, because of course there was – Sirius and Remus were off looking for the man that killed her parents, whilst Mary was in the middle of legal faff to get Hari taken away from the Dursleys – officially. Death eaters attacked the world cup – and according to Dulciena (her on again off again enemy/secret sort-of-friend) and these weird dreams she’s having – they’re keen to get her because some old wizard nazi who is dead-but-not-really lost a fight to her mum. Plus her period is due and Ron’s being weird and her godfather doesn’t like her best friend and she wouldn’t get that stupid radio fixed in time for Sirius’s birthday and-

Yes, there were a few things bothering Hari.

“You can tell me, it is my job to support all my students during their time at Hogwarts.” McGonagall added, “And given your special circ*mstance… well, I’m all ears, as it were.”

Hari opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, fidgeting slightly as she avoided her professor’s gaze.

“Sirius Black used to come to my office, you know.” At these words, Hari’s eyes snapped back up, in return McGonagall gave a pleased smile. “I’m not sure how much he’s spoken of his family, but the situation was rather… complex. Not unlike your own.”

Hari swallowed, thinking on the rumours of the ‘Mad Black Family’, the icey silence that hung heavy between Sirius and his brother, in those short moments they withstood being in the same room as eachother.

“What did he talk about?” Hari asked.

“Well, it’s not my place to share his business, but he spoke about his parents mostly, worry for his brother, worry for his friends, for the future. I can’t say I was always able to help, but I like to think that he found just the act of talking about it helpful. An opportunity for reflexion, perhaps.”

Hari shuffled in the soft chair, suddenly unable to get comfortable. Sirius had said that she should talk to someone, and if he spoke to their shared professor…

“I’ve been having dreams.” Hari started, her voice a little croaky, she cleared her throat. “About… these… there are men, in a room and they’re talking. I think they’re talking about me, and then there’s… it always ends with a flash of green like a floo or… or that spell- the killing curse.”

“I see.” McGonagall nods, speaking slowly. “No wonder your sleep is so disrupted, that’s quite distressing.”

“Yes.” Hari let out with a heavy heavy sigh as she nodded. “And it’s- I’m always in the room – it’s an old house – his house. And-“

“Who’s house?” McGonagall interrupts and Hari stops completely.

“That’s a good question I-“ She thinks, who’s house?

“Is it You-Know-Who?”

Hari immediately shakes her head.

“He doesn’t have a house, he never did.” Hari answers without thinking, not stopping to question how she knows that, she just does. “The house belongs – belonged to someone he hated, that he hates.”

“And he is there, in your dream?”

“I think so.” Hari shivers. “I’m with him, he knows I’m there and he talks to me, but I’m not me. I’m someone else, and there’s another man, men. Three then two – he kills one.”

Hari feels out of breath as she finishes, as though she’s flown a mile on her broom, her palms clammy as she wipes them on her jeans.

“When did these dreams start?” McGonagall asks.

“After the cup and the-uh-the attack.” Hari answers. McGonagall nods.

“I see.”

It’s quite for a minute, and Hari starts fidgeting again, as her Professors mulls over.

“How would you feel about me bringing this to Madam Pomfrey?” She asks after a minute. Hari shifts uncomfortably.

“Why?”

“I think it would be wise to have her medical expertise on the subject, and whilst she is no mind-healer, she may be able to determine the cause of these dreams.”

“Their cause?” Hari asks.

“Yes. There are a few reasons for why one might have nightmares such as these, stress and trauma, for which I’m sorry to say you have quite enough of both. Physical illness, mental illness and then there are the… magical explanations.”

Hari can feel herself pull a face. “Not divination?”

McGonagall laughs at this.

“No not quite, though I’m sure Professor Trelawney would argue against me. I thought perhaps more of any potential curses or hexes – magical ailments, perhaps.”

“Oh.” Hari said aloud.

“It could be nothing, but I think it would be sensible for us to be certain, yes?”

Hari nodded hesitantly.

“Excellent.” McGonagall clapped her hands with an assured nod. “I’ll speak to her after the ceremony tonight.”

Then, as if she was summoned, Mary tumbled through the floo.

Godric’s Hallow was one of the many villages in the UK that danced across the border of wizard and muggle. Non-magical children dressed as witches and ghosts trick-or-treated, receiving sugar quills and Honeydukes chocolate alongside their smarties and moam bars. Wizards wore their cloaks and hats as they drank G&T’s outside the pub across from mummies, ghouls, Princess Diana’s and Freddie Mercury’s. Fireworks went off in the park that were a little to splendid to be non-magical, but were lit with lighters and matches like all the others.

Candles were floating, illusioned to make it look like they were tied with string, Mary laughed when Hari pointed it out, and they joked about the ridiculousness of pure-blood wizards.

They had eaten dinner at home with Mary’s family, but they both made room for toffee apples, and Mary bought them a mulled cider for them to share with a wink and a ‘don’t tell Sirius’. Hari let the sweet alcohol burn her throat slightly, warming her belly and making her feel light and fluffy on the inside.

Hari had expected Godric’s Hallow to be a somber place, quiet and scarred from the war, but as they walked the loud decorated street, it was anything but. It sopped up some of the dread and guilt she’d been feeling, that even the wizards who may have lived here during the war, who might have been just a few doors down on that night, could laugh and drink here now. It made her feel hopeful, that even somewhere as scarred as this, could still be a place people could be so happy.

They threw their toffee apples away in the end – once the sugary outside was gone they didn’t hold much joy in them, so Hari and Mary walked with just their cider between them as they made their way to the graveyard.

Hari had half expected the Halloween celebrations to continued into the haunted location, and was surprised to find it so eerily quiet in comparison to the rest of the town. She aired the thought to her companion.

“They used to,” She sighed, annoyance in her tone. “But there are wards now to keep the party goers at bay, no muggles come by unless to visit someone, and any wizard passing through knows who’s here.”

Hari nodded as they walked along the cobblestone path, the graveyard was truly ancient, the only gravestones that looked younger than 200 years sat in the centre, the slab of rock was cleaner, and larger than the rest. Hari felt her breath get shaky as they approached, her steps slowing to a stop.

“We don’t have to go any closer if you don’t want to.” Mary whispered quietly, standing still at her side, patient, as though she’d stand there all night with her if she needed.

Hari took another steadying breath and walked the rest of the way, until she was stood before their grave, and she saw their names carved into the stone.

They both stood there for a long time.

“Were my parents Christian?” Hari eventually asks. Mary turns to her, confused.

“You’re mum was C of E I think, but not practising, and your dad was Hindu. Why?” Mary answers, and Hari frowned.

“The quote - ‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.’ It’s from the bible.” Hari points to the words etched below their names, she’s almost certain she recognises it, from the days when the Dursleys used to force her to church with them. “Who chose it?”

Mary frowns for a moment.

“I’m not sure actually. All the arrangements were made by their estate, perhaps your Aunt chose it, if she was religious?” Mary offered. Hari shook her head no, she knew if her aunt chose a bible quote for her parent’s grave, it would be something passive aggressive about forgive the sinner or something equally patronising.

She looked back at the words again, committing them to memory. Then she shuffled and pulled out a small satchel form her pocket, opening it to find the shrunken flowers she’d picked with Luna a few days ago. She passed the package to Mary, who unshrunk it with a flick of her wand – it was pale and short, Ash, Mary had said, with a Duppy wisp core.

There hadn’t been many flowers to choose from, but Luna had been a good guide and had dragged her to a patch between the lake and forest. They’d pulled together a bouquet of purplish-pink star shaped larger flowers, and smaller yellowish green ones with pointy petals. Luna had assured her that they’d be perfect, Hari just thought they looked pretty, and weren’t you supposed to bring flowers to graves?

“It’s a good thing you didn’t include lillies, your mum hated them.” Mary teased, handing them back to Hari for her to place.

“Really?” She asked.

“Oh yes, though I think she just said it to be controversial.” Hari smiled as her godmother spoke, “But she got very serious about it after she got her cat, their poisonous to them, so they were banned from the common room.” Mary remembered fondly. Hari smiled.

“Was mum very bossy?” She asked, turning to Mary, away from the grave. Mary laughed loudly.

“Oh she was the bossiest. It was like sharing a room with a professor some times. But it was good as well, no one you could trust more, always reliable, Lily Evans was always there when you needed.” Mary’s smile wavered, turning down in the corners against her will as she seemed to sink into the memory.

The unspoken but Lily Potter never is, lay on the ground before them like a smoking gun.

“What happened to her cat?” Hari asked, because that seemed important.

“He was adopted out, no sure who to, but I’m sure he found a family who spoils him rotten. He was a wild ginger thing, part kneazle i’m sure – he wouldn’t settle for anyone who didn’t love him properly.” Mary told her, and Hari smiled, assured. She didn’t like he idea of her mum’s cat going to the wrong family, like she did.

“Do you think Sirius and Remus will come next year?” Hari asked, her gaze turning back to the town behind them, the celebrations still in full swing, and getting rowdier as the night went on and the children returned home.

“I think they will.” Mary answered, “They’ll find him soon, Hari, the we can all be together properly.”

Hari smiled, she’d like that.

Mary apparated them to Remus’s cottage, and flooed from there back to McGonagall’s office, where they were met by not just the head of house, but Dumbledore, Moody, Mr Crouch, and the visiting headmasters.

“Hari.” Dumbledore spoke to her. “Did you put your name into the goblet of fire?” He asked calmly.

“No, of course I didn’t. I’m not of age or interested.” Hari tried to sound firm, but her voice shook. Dumbledore nodded. She sat in the same chair she’d been earlier that evening, with Mary’s hand grasped tight on her shoulder.

“Well there we have it, Hari didn’t do it, doesn’t want to compete, and I as her godmother do not consent to her competing. That settles it.” Mary stood tall and firm against the wall of professors and ministry officials, and Hari would be enternally grateful to have had Mary defedning her, even if it was in vain.

“But her name was in the goblet, she was selected.” Crouch said, sounding almost nervous. “It is binding, I’m afraid.”

“Wait, what?” Hari felt her voice squeak. “But I didn’t put my name in! I don’t want to compete!

“She’s fifteen, it isn’t legal for her to compete! How did you not have protections in place to stop this kind of thing from happening? Was the goblet not supervised?!” Mary demanded, glaring at Mr Crouch, who swallowed nervously.

“An age barrier was put in place, Miss McDonald.” Dumbledore explained, his fingers steepled in front of him as he watched them all over his half-moon lenses. “No one under sixteen could have passed over.”

“It’s Mrs Williams now, thank you.” Mary corrected with a frown, Dumbledore nodded an apology. “So what, any student over sixteen could put whatever they wanted in it? What if the’d put in a first year? Or a muggle child?” When no one provided an answer, she went on. “This was incredibly recklessly done, you can’t possibly expect her to compete? For the tournament to go ahead at all!” Mary glared at them all in turn, the other head teachers, and Mr Crouch avoided her gaze, Dumbledore hid a smile whilst McGonagall wore hers proudly. Moody was unimpressed.

“They can’t cancel the entire thing just because you don’t want your godchild in it, Mrs Williams.” Moody snapped at her, “But perhaps Hari’s legal guardians could have some sway in having her removed.”

Hari snorted, though it was not funny in the least.

“The goblet of fire is magically binding.” Mr Crouch spoke. “The tournament must go ahead, and Harriet Potter must compete, there is no way around it i’m afraid.”

“To hell there isn’t!” Mary shouted.

“Whilst I’m quite in agreement with you, Mrs Williams.” McGonagall stepped forward. “It seems we will get no where tonight. I believe you are due to meet with Mr Penflitch next week, regarding Miss Potter’s custody? Perhaps he can offer some legal counsel on the subject.”

Hari had no idea who Mr Penflitch was, or why McGonagall felt the need to mention his name, but given the way the colour drained from Mr Crouch’s cheeks at the mention of fim, Hari decided she liked him.

“Mr Penflitch, you say?” Mr Crouch spoke shakily.

“The Black family lawyer is he?” Moody added with a smirk, “He worked the Malfoy case did he not?”

Realisation suddenly dawned on Hari, Mary was meeting with the lawyer that kept Lucius Malfoy out of prison, to get custody of her? Why on earth would she do that? By all accounts he sound like an evil man, and if he’s the Black lawyer, why didn’t he keep Sirius out of prison instead? Hari frowned up at Mary, who just gave her shoulder a squeeze, with a look that said ‘ask me later’. Hari went back to sulking.

“I’m not aware of any cases he’s worked previously.” Mary answered. “I don’t keep up much on wizard affairs, Professor McGonagall simply recommended him.” Hari couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “But believe me, I will be bringing this to his attention.”

With that, the meeting came to an end, Hari left Mary in McGonagall’s office, with a promise that she would call her later to talk. Hari was met with whispers and glances as she entered the common room, she quickly ducked her head and beelined straight to Ron and Hermione. She was almost overwhelmed by the relief that came with sinking into he arm chair they’d kept for her, it was only 9pm but the day felt like it had lasted weeks.

“So, how’d you do it?” Ron asked, as soon as her bum touched the seat, Hari turned to him, confused.

“I didn’t, obviously.” Hari answered slowly, looking at him with a face of pure bewilderment. Ron sat on the sofa with his arms crossed, a picture of the sulky teenager, Hari might have laughed if she wasn’t so confused.

“Sure.” He said shortly, avoiding her gaze,

“Ron…” Hermione started.

“Wait, do you seriously not believe me?” Hari asked, interrupting the other girl. She was sat forward in her chair now, watching Ron for a sign that he was joking, that it was just a very poor prank.

“Oh come on, Hari. Don’t act like this isn’t something you’d do.” Ron’s tone had gone from annoyed to down right nasty.

“Something I’d do?” Hari spluttered. “I told you I didn’t want to be involved, we talked about it the other night!” She shouted now, equal parts hurt and amazed at how stupid he was being. Surely she was going mad, or Ron was, or they both were?

“Whatever.” Ron rolled his eyes, “Going to bed.” He said before leaving without so much as a second glance. Hari watched her friend go, blindsided, she turned to Hermione.

“You believe me, don’t you?” Hari asked, suddenly full of doubt. She expected the adults to doubt her, for their classmates, for anyone else really to think she was lying – they often did. But this was Ron, her best friend, her brother, if even he didn’t believe her, didn’t trust her, then would Hermione…

“Of course I do, and he does as well, deep down.” Hermione reasoned, Hari narrowed her eyes. “It’s just- he’s a bit… hurt, you have been keeping secrets from him lately.”

“It’s not like a want to…” Hari scoffed, shifting uncomfortably, thinking about the summer, and what happened in the one before… surely he wasn’t upset about it still? He didn’t even know what happened before third year, and they’d talked before the term started, he said he understood why she didn’t tell him about Sirius and Remus.

“I know Hari, but if you think about it from his perspective.” Hermione gently interrupted her spiral. “Is it wrong for him to think you don’t trust him as much as you used to?”

Hari opened her mouth to answer, defensive ready on her lips, but Hermione jumped in.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong for not telling him some things, Hari - he’s not entitled to know everything, but you did… lie, in the letters, didn’t you?” Hermione said it like she couldn’t bare to even speak the word. Hari hesitated, staring at her friend, the hurt boiling in her chest.

“I didn’t lie, ‘Mione I just… omitted some things.” Hari shrugged, frowning down at her fingers as they pulled on the threads of the cushion on her lap.

“Lying by omissions is still lying, Hari.” Hermione scolded, Hari thought about her secret meetings with Dulcinea, her throat tightening

“I’ll talk to Ron, he’ll come round soon.” Hermione soothed, Hari nodded, but she was’t listening anymore.

Chapter 21: Nothing I Do Is Ever Good (enough)

Chapter Text

Hari didn’t go to class he next day, instead she was dragged along for tests and questions and for some reason she couldn’t fathom, her wand was weighed.

It was getting to lunch and Hari was glad to finally be released by Mr Crouch and his assistant, but rather than freed to escape to the great-hall, she was ushered into another room, where the champions were collected, the older students eyed her cautiously, except Cedric.

“Hey Hari.” He said with an expression Hari couldn’t read.

“Hey.” Hari gave a small awkward wave, then frowned at her hand, annoyed with her own obvious discomfort. “They said I have to compete.” The word burst past her lips as she stumbled forward, desperate in the need for the others – or at least Cedric, to understand. “But I didn’t put my name in! I swear I didn’t.” Hari argued, “This was the last thing I wanted.” She implored.

Cedric nodded.

“Yeah, I figured.” He said, Hari felt her chest unlock with relief. “Who do you think did it?” He asked.

“I have no bloody clue, so far Fred and George are my number one suspects, but this seems a bit much, even for them.” Hari tried to make light of it, Cedric chuckled lightly.

“Sounds more like a Peeves antic.” He added, Hari smiled relieved to be believed.

“Well, this is exciting, no?” Fleur Delacour said from across the room. “A pleasure to meet you, ‘Ari.” Fleur held out her hand and Hari felt her cheeks get hot as she took it.

“You too.” She replied shyly.

“Victor.” Krum held out his hand for another shake.

“I watched you play at the world cup.” She blurted out. “Me and my friend Ron are big fans.”

Victor nodded face unmoving, “We’ve heard a bit about you, in Bulgaria. You are the Girl Who Lived?”

“Wow don’t die once, and you never hear the end of it.” Hari joked meekly, Krum frowned, tilting his head in confusion, whilst Fleur gave a tiny laugh that sounded like bells.

“Knock, knock.” Came a high voice from the door, they turned to find a tall woman with a large bright white smile, surrounded by red lipstick. She entered the room, followed by a quill and parchment that hovered in the air around her. “Reeta Skeeter, pleasure.” She held out a hand to Cedric, who took it slightly then dropped it. “I’m to conduct interviews with our lovely champions! Shall we start with one on ones?” She smiled wider when she turned to Hari.

“Harriet Potter?”

Hari nodded warily.

“Excellent!” She grabbed Hari’s arm and began to lead her away. “Let’s start with you.”

Hari dragged her feet.

“I’d really rather not.”

“Oh don’t worry, just a little chat between us girls.”

And with that Hari was dragged into a smaller side room and deposited into a chair, Rita Skeeter sat opposite, hands linked on the table as she leaned forward, a hungry, unpleasant smile on her lips.

“So, Harriet.”

“Just Hari.” She corrected, tucking her hands under her legs at her sides.

“Hari, how modern!” Rita said in a way that Hari couldn’t tell if it was meant as a positive or not. “So, tell me what we all want to know, how did you get your name into the Goblet of Fire?”

“I didn’t, I have no interest in the tournament, I’ve told Mr Crouch this.” Hari answered impatiently, she was tired of saying it now, but hopefully she wouldn’t have to anymore, if Rita put it in the prophet.

Rita arched a brow.

“But why wouldn’t you want to? Eternal glory, reverend by all your peers, fame, and a thousand galleons certainly isn’t anything to turn your nose up at?” The woman pushed, talking as though what she was saying was obvious, as if there wasn’t any other option but for Hari to want these things, to crave them.

“Those kind of things never interested me.” Hari answered honestly, she was already famous, and so far it just meant every wizard she met knew her name and was far more familiar with her than she was comfortable with.

“So tell me, Hari, what does interest you? What makes you tick?” Skeeter asked, Hari shrugged.

“I don’t know, Quidditch, video games, gobestones, my friends…” Hari trailed off, suddenly struggling to think of things to list to the reporter, who watched her with such scrutiny.

“Friends, like Cedric Diggory, your fellow champion.” She added helpfully, Hari nodded.

“Er, yeah, I guess.”

Skeeter examined her for a long agonising moment before nodding and flicking her wrist idly, the quill suddenly picked up its pace and scribbled something frantically.

“And what do your family think of the situation? They must worry for you.” She prompted.

Hari shuffled anxiously, her thoughts going to Sirius and Remus, who she hadn’t heard from since her name had been announced. She remembered the pure rage in Mary’s voice as she demanded that Hari be pulled from the tournament, of Hermione’s worried glances and nervous nail bitting, of Ron’s stony silence after he’d told Hari he didn’t believe her. But Hari knew Skeeter wasn’t asking about them, and Hari refused to contemplate the Dursley’s, they weren’t worth thinking about.

“They’re muggles, so they don’t really know much about it.” Hari answered honestly.

“I wasn’t aware you had muggle relatives.” Skeeter commented, her eyebrows climbing high in shock.

“Why would you?” Hari asked with an annoyed frown, “We only just met today.”

Skeeter only grinned.

“Oh, I’m aware Hari, but I think we’re going to become fast friends.”

Hari’s stomach twisted with dread.

The solo interviews dragged on for the next hour and a half, and Hari was bitter and impatient by the end of it, especially when the other interviews didn’t last nearly as long as her own. It did however, have the benefit of reducing the amount of time Hari had to sit in awkward silence with the other champions, although those short 15 minutes sat with Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum still dragged like an over tired toddler at a theme park.

“Alright. I think I’ve got enough. Let’s get our photo done then we can let you all go.” Rita clapped her hands and her notebook folded itself closed, she entered the room with a nervous Cedric behind her, and began arranging the group. “Hari lets have you here.” She pulled Hari towards the centre, slightly in front of Cedric. Then moved back to allow the photographer to get into position.

“Oh for-“ Fleur huffed, then the tall girl took a step forward out of position, then seemed to begin glowing. Hari stared in awe as the girl beside her turned from beautiful to ethereal, everyone else in the room seemed to be affected, the champions didn’t even notice the flash of the light bulb. “Alright, let us go.” Fleur nodded firmly, then grabbed Hari by the arm and pulled her from the room, Rita just stood there, mouth open and closing like a fish.

Cedric and Krum followed without a word, they were all stood in the hallway when the light pulsing from the angelic beauty faded slowly.

“I apologise for my outburst, but I grew very tired of that woman.” Fleur scoffed, Hari nodded dumbly. “Are you alright, ‘Ari?”

Hari shook herself back to attention.

“Yes! Yes, um, what did you do?” Hari asked, Fleur shrugged.

“A veela trick, useful when you want to draw attention.” She smiled. “‘Opefully the photo will not focus on you too much.”

“Thank you.” Hari said with a grateful sigh. “And I’m sorry, to all of you.” She turned to the boys, including them. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

Krum shrugged. “It is nice to not be pestered for once.” He said easily, as if it was no big deal.

Hari smiled gratefully, surprised and delighted that the other champions didn’t seem to resent her for her presence.

Mary hadn’t been inside the ministry building before, she’d heard about from others over the years, and maybe she was naive to think they were exaggerating about how ridiculously disorganised and outrageous the entire building was. She certainly hadn’t expected it to worse than the descriptions she’d heard. But what else did she expect? Wizarding society was inherently ridiculous and bizarre in every aspect, part of it’s charm, she supposed. That didn’t make her any less annoyed that no one had warned her to take her motion sickness tablets for the f*cking lift. On wobbly legs she stumbled onto the correct floor, ‘Department of Representatives, Executives, Arbitration and Defense’ the sign read or, cheerily, DREAD for short.

Lovely.

It was fitting really, because that summarised rather nicely all of Mary’s feelings about her upcoming meeting with Mr Penflitch. But Mary had faced worse than fancy lawyers in her time, so she took a breath, straightened her shoulders, and strode down that awful wood panelled, green carpeted corridor like she belonged. She barely hesitated when she found the correct door, entering into the tiny reception with a brave face and palms that were barely sweating. She was greeted by an older witch, sat behind an expensive looking desk made of heavy dark wood, her hair was tied neat and high on her head, a pearl necklace resting heavy around her pale neck.

The woman greeted Mary with a rather condescending smile, before gesturing for her to sit on the red velvet sofa, she was offered a coffee, which she declined. Mary sat with her back straight as an arrow and her purse on her lap, the picture of nervous discomfort in this office waiting room that screamed old, filthy, money.

She was ten minutes early, and waited nine minutes fifty seconds before the office door opened of its own accord, and the receptionist gestured.

“Mr Penflitch will see you now.”

Mary thanked the woman - she may hate this place (an by extension this unsuspecting receptionist) with every fibre of her being, but her mother raised her with manners and she wouldn’t forget them now.

Mary entered the office to find an older man - perhaps late fifties – raising from her desk to greet her. He was a slim man, tall, with what little hair remaining almost entirely greyed. His smiled wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but wasn’t exactly friendly either. Mary was surprised when he offered her his hand.

“Mrs Mary Williams?” He asked, as Mary took his hand, affirming with a nod. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jack Penflitch.”

He gestured for her to sit, and she did, he rested his hand on the desk between them, leaning forward slightly.

“How may I be of help to you today?” He asked, and Mary took a breath before she began.

“I want to gain custody of my goddaughter, on the basis that her current guardians are unfit, and she was placed with them against the wishes of her late parents.”

Mr Penflitch, nodded as he listened, pushing of the desk to lean back in his chair.

“Do you have evidence to support this; the wishes of he parents?”

Mary nodded, pulling a folder from her purse, it was thick and heavy with papers as she placed it on the desk. Mr Penflitch’s eyebrows raised, but he said nothing as Mary rifled through for a letter, she placed it on the desk face down.

“Do I have your assurance that everything we discuss is private and confidential? It won’t leave this room?” Mary levelled her gaze at the man, her palm flat on the letter, unblinking. There was a long still moment before he smiled.

“As soon as the galleons entered my office vault, I become your consultant – I am unable to discuss anything mentioned in these meetings unless anything you tell me shows intent to harm – to yourself or others.” He recited, as though he’d said it a hundred times – which he likely had.

Mary hesitated a moment, then flipped the letter over, sliding it across to him.

“A letter from her mother, addressed to me – asking for myself and another named individual to take custody of her daughter should she and her husband be unable to do so.” Mary explained, her voice almost robotic as she spoke. She pulled out another letter.

“A letter from her mother, addressed to me – it mentions her estrangement to her sister – her daughter’s current guardian. You’ll notice a quote ‘I never want that hateful bitch near my child’.”

Mr Penflitch took the first letter, glancing over it as Mary spoke. Another paper went on the desk.

“Statements from Professor Minerva McGonagall, Madam Poppy Pomfrey and Professor Regulas Black-“ Mary let the last name hang in the air for a beat before continuing “- all attesting to witnessing signs of neglect, abuse and mistreatment from said sister towards Hari.”

“Harriet…Potter.” Mr Penflitch stated slowly, as he read Lily’s signature at the end of the letters. He placed it down gently, then quickly flicked through the other documents, shaking his head in disbelief. “You want me to help you get custody, of the Girl Who Lived?” He looked at Mary like he doubted she was real, like in a moment he would wake in his bed (it probably had silk sheets, he looked like a silk sheets kind of guy) and think to himself – huh, what a weird dream. Then role over and go back to sleep.

But Mary would not budge, she wouldn’t evaporate with the morning, replaced with tea and toast. She was hear, and she wasn’t leaving without what she wanted.

“Who she is doesn’t matter.” Mary affirmed. “She is a child at risk, you need to help me get her away from them. “

“Whilst I admire your determination but who she is does, in fact, matter.” He interjected with a shake of his head. “Who she is, is the most important thing about this situation. This isn’t a simple custody case, Mrs Williams, it won’t be resolved with mediation and supervised visits, this… is so much bigger than that.”

“I know this won’t be simple.” Mary assured him, straightening her posture. “But it will happen.”

Mr Penflitch blinked at her, then blinked again, then smiled – no- grinned the man grinned like the cheshire f*cking cat.

“Too right you are Mrs Williams. It will happen, but it won’t happen quietly, not privately, it will be big and public and messy.” He said with a shake of his head, Mary frowned.

“I doubt Petunia will put up much of a fight here, in fact, I’m certain she would be quite willing to hand Hari over.” Mary argued, but then, Petunia Dursley was never the problem, and Mr Penflitch, who had been familiar with the situation for all of ten minutes, seemed to agree.

“It isn’t about these muggles, Mrs Williams.” He said with the shake of his head. “It’s about the other – what did you call him? A ‘named individual’? Mr Sirius Black? And don’t think I didn’t notice you name dropping his brother in there, I’m assuming the large sum I was paid came from their family vault?” He raised a brow, and Mary gave him nothing. “I don’t personally care, but when this case make the news and it will, people will care. People will care that Sirius Black is currently on the run, and it wasn’t until he escaped that you brought this forward, people will care that the Girl Who Lived has spent the last decade being abused by muggles. People will care where she goes once she is taken away from them – and rest assured, Mrs Williams, she will be taken away from them – which means people will care about you.” He pointed a ringed finger in her direction. “I read about you, Mary McDonald, there wasn’t much, but I research all my clients before they step through that door. You’ve hid well for these last few years, fading into muggle society, I understand why – the wizarding world isn’t kind to muggleborn wizards. But understand there will be no fading for you from now on, for you or your family.”

He leant back on his chair, gesturing to the documents before them.

“You can leave this with me, Mrs Williams. I will take it to the courts and Harriet Potter will be made a ward of the ministry, she will be placed with a foster – they have a few approved wizards and witches for kids like her. It will be handled quietly, no fuss no muss. I’ll even return the consultancy fee.” He flicked his hand in the air, as if to demonstrate how easy it would be, Mary watched the movement, her mouth dry as bone.

“But if you bring this to them – with me as your legal advisor of course – we won’t be able to stop this being public, you’ll be judged not just by the courts, but all of wizarding Britain.”

“Who are the approved fosters?” Mary asked finally, “How would it be decided who had her?”

Mr Penflitch sucked his teeth, leaning back in his chair, swinging ever so slight left to right.

“I don’t know them all by name, but given Harriet is at Hogwarts, and the Headmaster’s position in the Ministry…”

“No.” Mary shook her head, she was not trusting that man with Hari ever again. “We do it my way, Hari’s already in the papers- I’ll just be with her for it this way.” She spoke firmly, she sounded convincing, she hoped she sounded convincing.

Mr Penflitch broke into another grin, as though that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Right then.” He said, with a clap of his hands. “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way then, hm?”

The article was as bad as Hari thought, and worse, it greeted her first thing the morning after the interview; the entire thing seemed focused on the ‘obvious’ rivalry between Fleur and Hari. Rita Skeeter seemed to have taken Hari’s reluctance to be there, as well as Fleur’s use of her Veela blood, as the two champions both vying for attention.

“I hate Rita Skeeter.” Hari huffed, chucking the paper aside to focus on her porridge.

“Honestly, Hari you’re hatred of other women is getting out of hand.” Ginny scolded with a teasing smirk.

“Oh you’re hilarious Weasley.” Hari frowned.

“Keep those claws away, Hari.” George added from down the table, much to Hari’s misfortune. “At least finish breakfast before your next cat fight.”

Hari grabbed a bread roll and chucked it at the laughing boy.

“Hey, hey! I’m not your competition!” George cried as he failed to dodge.

“I hate Rita Skeeter, I hate this tournament, I hate the prophet, and I hate you Weasleys.” Hari sulked, dropping her head on the table.

“Hey!” Fred shouted defensively. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You’re all my enemies until I figure out who put my name in that f*cking goblet.” Hari scowled, only half serious, she’d asked the twins and they’d assured her they hadn’t done it, she believed them. But it left Hari only angrier that she had no idea how her name got in there.

“I can’t believe they would let her print this rubbish.” Hermione frowned down at the paper, she tossed it to the side and turned to Hari. “Have you heard anything more about the first task?”

“No, it’s meant to be a surprise, test our abilities to deal with ‘new and unforeseen circ*mstances’.” Hari quoted with a roll of her eyes.

“Your specialty.” Ginny chimed in, Hari shrugged and took another spoonful of porridge.

“’Ari! ‘Ow are you?” Fleur’s voice chimed from across the table. Hari looked up to find the other champion, flanked by her group of fellow classmates, all clad in their pretty blue uniforms. They greeted them all with polite nods, whilst Fleur smiled warmly at Hari, who felt her cheeks warm from the attention.

“Oh! Good morning Fleur. I’m well.” Hari answered quickly. “um – how are you?”

“I am quiet well, ‘ave you read the article from that tiring woman?” Fleur asked, flippantly waving a finger at the paper on the table, a mouth full of disdain.

“Unfortunately, I have.” Hari replied. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with it as well.”

“It is fine, I am used to it.” Fleur huffed, but then gave a friendly smile, Hari felt a stab of sympathy for the other girl; her Veela heritage had gained her a lot of attention. Hari wandered if it has always been like this for her, surely it must have, for Fleur to seem so unfazed by it all. “Will we simply ‘ave to prove her wrong by becoming good friends, no?”

Hari returned her smile with a beaming grin.

“Look, Potter’s on her own today.” Will Shoebuckle whispered nastily in Ron’s ear, who only glanced up and grunted his acknowledgement before turning back to doodle on his notebook. Will wasn’t Ron’s first choice for a desk partner, but the only other people he knew were Dean and Hari, Dean was already paired up with a Ravenclaw who’s name he never remembered, and Ron didn’t feel like talking to Hari today.

That’t not true really, Ron wanted to talk to Hari, he wanted to shout at Hari for lying to him, he wanted to argue with her for never talking to him anymore, for liking Hermione better, and replacing him with Neville. Ron wanted Hari to tell him the truth about the Goblet, to tell him where she keeps sneaking off too, and her summer, and the summer before that.

But Ron didn’t know how to do any of that, to make Hari talk to him about the things she used to, back when he felt like he was her best friend. It didn’t feel like that anymore, it didn’t feel like Ron and Hari anymore. Ron didn’t mind sharing Hari with Hermione, because he liked Hermione – even if she was annoying and bossy sometimes, but she was his friend as well. But these days, it felt like Ron was sharing Hari with everyone, and Ron was becoming less apart of Ron and Hari and more just, Harriet Potter and ‘oh look, there’s her friend Ron too’.

The article didn’t help, because now everyone was talking about Hari, most of what people said was utter rubbish – Ron knew that. But other things, Ron didn’t know if they were true or not, because Hari didn’t tell him. Ron didn’t know if Hari liked Fleur Delacour or not, if she liked Cedric that much, he didn’t think she did, but then Ron was starting to think he didn’t know Hari very well at all. It was a horrible thing to feel about your best friend; to think that the person you spent all your time with, always worried for, barely spared a thought for you.

Will acted like it was typical, inevitable that Hari would one day stop being Ron’s friend, because he is a boy and she is a girl. He made it seem obvious, that Hari would stop caring about Ron, in favour of tall and handsome boys like Cedric, or rich boys like Neville. Will didn’t believe Ron when he told him it wasn’t like that, it never was, Ron didn’t care if Hari got a boyfriend, so long as he was nice like Neville, or cool like Cedric. Ron didn’t want to be anything other than Hari’s best friend, because that’s who he is supposed to be. Will thought that was stupid, Ron thought Will was rather stupid.

Divination passed slowly, Ron spent most of it sulking and responding half-heartedly to Will’s jokes, they were kind of funny, sometimes. Mostly they were just mean. Ron didn’t know why making fun of Trelwaney was funnier when it was with Hari, but it just was.

When the bell finally wrung, Ron packed up his things with a relieved sigh, eager to get out for lunch, at least then he could sit with the other Gryffindor boys. He climbed down the ladder to the classroom, landing with a heavier thud than he intended, before heading down the tower with Will, hoping to make an excuse to split up from the other boy as soon as he could.

“Ron!” He heard Hari call his name behind him, he cringed before turning back to her. She jogged down the hall to catch up, shrugging her bag back up higher as she stopped in front of him. “What’s going on? You weren’t at breakfast, and you sat with…” Hari paused and turned her head to Will, a frown scrunching her brow as she tried to remember the other boy's name. Ron nearly laughed at the furious scowl on Will’s face.

“It’s William. Shoebuckle.” The boy hissed. “Of course Harriet Potter wouldn’t have time to remember the name’s of us common folk.”

“Er- sorry.” Hari mumbled, turning back to Ron. “Anyway, you sat with Will, you’re not still mad, are you?”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like you.” Will answered for him, Hari was glaring at him now.

“Great input Willy, but I think Ron’s big enough to speak for himself.” She snapped, Ron interrupted before Will could splutter back.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He asked, drawing her attention back. Hari turned the frown to him.

“What truth? I didn’t put my name in, someone else did. I would have told you if I had.” Hari answered, the same as she had the night it had happened, like then, he couldn’t tell if it was the truth or not.

“Sure, Hari.” Ron sighed. “C’mon Will, let’s go.”

“Wait, seriously?” Hari demanded incredulously. “So what, you don’t trust me anymore? What the hell Ron.”

“Well why would I?” Ron snapped, glaring at the girl. “You’re always keeping secrets these days, and that interview you did…”

“You believe that crap? I thought you were my friend?” Hari demanded.

“Yeah me too.” Ron scowled, feeling his neck get hot. “Guess we’re not though, if you don’t trust me anymore.”

Hari looked like she was going to hit him, or cry, and It made him feel sick. Ron wasn’t supposed to make Hari look like that, he’s supposed to help her hex the people who did that, or hold her back from punching then in the nose.

“You’re an idiot, you know that? A bloody stupid idiot.” Hari spat at him, before shoving past him and a smug looking Will. Ron watched Hari go, his stomach twisting painfully, he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or vindication he was feeling.

Of course Hari thought he was an idiot, everyone did, Hermione told him all the time, so did his professors, his brothers... It was a joke everyone made, though it wasn’t a joke, was it? It was only a matter of time before Hari realised it wasn’t funny anymore, and would stop keeping an idiot like him around, and Hermione would stop putting up with him anymore, she’d choose Hari, he knew she would. Hermione was the smartest witch or wizard alive, a proper genius, she’d be minister for magic one day. Hari wasn’t as good at school, but she was strong, Ron had watched her come back from fights with Voldermort since they were twelve, throw of an imperios charm, she’d even dueled a teacher and win. Ron didn’t fit in with that, he was just the idiot they brought along to laugh at, too stupid to be trusted with anything important.

“Come on, mate.” Will said with a slap on his shoulder, shooting Ron a sympathetic look before tugging him along, Ron let himself be dragged to lunch.

Chapter 22: There Aint No Hill Or Mountain We Can't Climb

Chapter Text

It was their first Halloween together since The Last Halloween. Remus expected it to be a bloody awful night, of course it would be, just as every Halloween had been for the last thirteen years. He knew Sirius had wanted to spend it with them all together, with Hari. But it wasn’t possible, not with Sirius. Mary was in a precarious situation, building the legal case to gain custody of Hari, they couldn’t jeopardize that. It was risky enough for just Mary to be with her, never mind with an escaped convict. He’d been sullen after the decision had been made, but overall Sirius handled it better than Remus thought he might. Instead of falling into his grief, he threw himself into their search.

It had been six weeks since they’d started their hunt for Peter, and progress was not only slow, but non-existent. It was six weeks of searching abandoned flats, empty leads, and dead ends. It seemed Peter Pettigrew had disappeared from the face of the earth, for a second time. Sirius’s determined obsession, sleepless nights and endless hours as Padfoot, his literal nose to the ground as they looked for any sign of their former friend, were worthless without something to go on.

But there was nothing.

They were camping that night, the car pulled up on the road with the radio on. A tarp trapped in the driver’s door on one side and tied to a tree on the other, worked as a makeshift tent, muggle-repellent charms kept them from being noticed, whilst a warming charm protected them from the cold. The tarp below them crinkled as Remus made himself comfortable, a map laid out before him and a torch in hand. He longed for a cigarette as he chewed on the end of his pencil, he crossed off another marked spot. A cottage in the midlands; the wards had long faded as squatters took up residence, it had once been a death eater holding cell. Now it ranked of piss and damp, the wallpaper torn, and the blood smears replaced with water marks.

Remus mulled over the map and came to the quick conclusion that they had run out of leads. Well, that wasn’t true; they’d simply run out of leads in the UK. Regulus had been diligent in his lists, names, status, and whereabouts for every death eater (or sympathiser) he could think of. It was a long list. Remus’s stomach had turned when he’d handed it over, it had been multiple pages, many of them were dead or in Azkaban, more of them were still free. One of those names stuck out amongst the rest.

Severus Snape.

Remus had hoped they’d find Peter before they had to start with the ones who had fled. He’d smirked when he’d seen how many of them now lived in Argentina, Remus had wondered if the irony was lost on the pureblood supremacists. His smirk had fallen when he came to Snape’s name, listed next to a town in Albania. It was with a deep sick feeling, that Remus knew that’s where Peter would go, of course he would. He knew Peter would find someone to hide behind, and Snape was the most likely to let him lay there, he imagined them hiding in a dark room together, licking each other’s wounds as they fed into their shared victimhood.

It was denial that had kept Remus in Britain, but they couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Lost in thought, Remus didn’t hear Sirius approach until he dropped onto the ground next to him.

“Stop brooding Moony.” He commanded, pulling a bottle from his coat and swishing it side to side with a co*ck of his brow. “Tonight, is a night for being sad together.” Sirius told him, sounding far too chipper.

“That so?” Remus asked, taking the bait gladly as he pushed the map and all thoughts of Snape and Peter from his mind.

“Yup.” He agreed, popping the ‘p’, he took a long drink of the liquor, ending with a satisfied sigh before he handed it over. Remus took the bottle and drank, it was some awful tropical flavoured rum, Sirius had seen it on the corner shop shelf and his eyes lit up, the way they always did when he found something new and muggle he was desperate to try. Remus had caved without Sirius needing to even ask, just a look and a waggle of his brow and Remus rolled his eyes and did as his lover bid.

Somethings never change.

“So, whatcha think?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the bottle, a boyish smile on his lips that Remus wanted to kiss.

So, he did.

“That good, huh?” Sirius murmured against his mouth; he tasted like artificial pineapple flavouring.

“Awful.” He replied, then kissed him again before pulling back to slouch against the metal of the car.

“Yeah, it’s not great.” He laughed, “Sweet enough to not need a mixer though.” He shrugged as he took another drink. “Prongs would’ve liked it, I think.”

Remus smiled.

“Oh of course he would.” He remembered fondly the nights in the common room, whilst the other boys their age drank bitter beer and fire whiskey from the bottle, James Potter would turn up his nose in favour of his vodka lemonades. He wouldn’t bat an eye at the teasing that came his way because of it, something Remus had always envied. James never cared what other people thought he should or shouldn’t do, never questioned who or what he was, unfazed if others doubted it. Remus hadn’t been able to pull that off, but then he supposed he had things to questions, things he wanted hidden. Remus couldn’t afford to be affectionate with his male friends the way James was, he couldn’t just laugh it off when other boys called him a poof for showing a softer side.

Remus wandered if he would have been more like James, if he hadn’t had to be ashamed of so much of himself. As he examined his misshapen knuckles, scared, broken and regrown so many times from throwing his fists anytime anyone dared to look close enough to see.

Except for James and Lily, who he never did manage to push away, no matter how hard he tried.

And Sirius… Well, he’d never really tried to push Sirius away, not in any way that would take effect.

“Lily would tease him for it.” Remus said aloud, rolling the bottle between his palms. “She’d tell him she wouldn’t stay with him after he lost all his teeth from cavities.”

Sirius snorted.

“She would’ve though.” Sirius added wistfully. “She’d complain the whole time whilst mushing up his food for him.”

Remus laughed out loud at the image, of James old and toothless, Lily grey and wrinkled as she teased her husband. James would only give her a gummy smile, always happy to make Lily laugh, no matter the cost to his pride.

Remus ached with the loss of it, the grief for his friends, and the future they should have had, deserved to have had.

“I miss him.” Sirius spoke quietly. “I miss them both, obviously. But- I –“ He sniffed, Remus watched as Sirius’s face crumbled. “It doesn’t- it doesn’t feel right to be here- not like here here, but just- alive and out of A- of that place.” Sirius didn’t look at Remus as he continued. “It feels wrong that he isn’t here. He’s supposed to be here, me and James.”

Remus ignored the stab of jealousy – impatiently washing it away with another swig of rum.

“I know.” Was all he said, all he could say. Because he did know, he knew it like a second skin, the grief that itched at the back of his mind. Most days he could ignore it, but on nights like tonight he couldn’t help but scratch at it until it bled. Maybe that’s why he said the next sentence out loud, to pull off the scab, to bleed out the infection.

“I used to wish that it was me. That I died that night. I think – thought – that, it was such a waste. James and Lily were so good, had such a life planned, and I’m just…” He took another drink. “f*ck.” He didn’t dare look at Sirius.

“I don’t.”

He looked at Sirius.

His eyes were bright and unwavering, holding his gaze.

“I don’t wish it were you. I wouldn’t trade you.” Sirius spoke. “I need you to understand that, Moony. Do you understand me? I wouldn’t.”

Remus turned away, his throat closed so tight, he was surprised when the words managed to come out at all.

“I wouldn’t trade you either.”

Sirius didn’t say a word, just nodded before he took the bottle back for a drink.

The next morning, they began the drive back to Remus’s home in Wales, it was only three and a half hours drive between the abandoned den to his cottage in Trefil, opposed to the six it would take to get back to Potter Manor. Though convenience wasn’t the reason they chose it over Hari’s ancestral home, nor why they hadn’t been back there since they left nearly two months ago.

It went unsend between them both, but they didn’t need to speak it to know that they wouldn’t go back there without Hari.

It was late morning as they got back onto the motorway, when the mobile latched onto a signal at last, and they found several missed calls from Mary, and one from Hari.

They called Mary first, it was a school day after all, Hari would be in class.

“f*cking hell, took you long enough!” Mary grumbled down the line.

“Is Hari alright?” Sirius asked, ignoring Mary’s scolding tone.

“Yes, I mean. I spoke to her again last night, after I left her at Hogwarts. She’s… You know what she’s like, she wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t, I don’t think.” Mary explained, Sirius knew she was right, he frowned down at the mobile sat in Remus’s palm.

“What about Penflitch, you met him today?” Remus pressed, a worrisome crease furrowing his brow.

“I just left his office actually.” Mary answered, Sirius heard the sound of her keys jingle and a front door open and close. “He’s going to help; he thinks we can get it sorted by January.”

“Mary that’s amazing!” Sirius cheered, he’d been worried that the stuffy old Black family lawyer wouldn’t even take the case, never mind resolve it that quickly.

“And… what else?” Remus asked, drawing Sirius’s attention with a confused look. Clearly Remus had heard something in Mary’s tone that Sirius had missed. There was a pause.

“And… he suspects it will be made rather public, the case.” Mary finally said with a heavy sigh.

“But Hari’s underage, family cases, especially with children, they’re meant to be private.” Remus argued, but Sirius just deflated.

“The ministry has never given a toss about privacy protection.” Sirius answered for Mary, “Even when I was disowned, it made the papers; and she’s Harriet Potter.”

“That’s what Penflitch said.” Mary added sullenly. “He also suggested that if I walked away from it, just gave him the evidence against the Dursley’s, that they would lose custody, but then she’d become a ward of the ministry. He said if that happened, because she’s in Hogwarts…”

“They’d give her to Dumbledore.” Sirius finished for her, and Remus was scowling now.

“Yeah.” Mary agreed, “But that way it wouldn’t leave the courts, but if I try and get custody…”

“Are you going to do it?” Remus asked, and Sirius couldn’t believe he’d need to ask.

“Of course, she’s going to, what other choice is there?” Sirius demanded; Remus met his gaze.

“It’s Mary’s choice, Pads. She has her own children, her job, they would all be scrutinised. Publicly.” Moony explained, and Sirius felt dread crawling up her spine.

“You have to do it, Mary.” Sirius turned back to the phone, wishing he could speak to her in person. “There’s no one else, not yet anyway.”

“I will.” She answered.

“Mary, are you sure?” Remus pressed; Sirius wanted to pinch him.

“Yes.” She replied, her voice shaky but firm. “I decided as soon as he said it, I’ll talk to Joe, we’ll figure something out. Hari needs me.” She said the last sentence like it was all that mattered, and Sirius loved her more than ever, because of course it was. Hari needed them.

“Thank you, Mary.” Sirius told her, and he meant it with everything left in him. “You won’t be on your own in this, not always.”

“How is the search going?” Mary asked, Sirius turned to Moony who was now scowling at their map. He sighed.

“We’ll get him, but it won’t be before January.” Remus answered solemnly, Sirius hated that he was probably right; they’d come up with f*ck all.

“I know you will, just, don’t disappear alright?” Mary replied. “Call Hari as soon as you can, she’ll want to hear from you both.”

They both agreed and bid their farewells before Mary had to leave for work. She promised to keep them up to date, so long as they did the same.

Hari didn’t answer that evening, Sirius had paced anxiously across Moony’s living room as the more muggle savvy man dialled, then redialled, then left a voice message for Hari to call them when she could.

“Maybe we should owl?” Sirius suggested, stopping mid pace to chew on his thumb as he asked.

“We don’t have an owl, Pads.” Remus gave a tired answer. “She’ll be busy, Mary spoke to her yesterday, so we know her phone’s working. We just have to wait.” Sirius considered this a moment, then began pacing again. He felt Moony’s eyes on him as he went, watching so calmly, it always annoyed him when he did that.

“How are you so patient?” Sirius demanded after a moment, a little snappier than he intended. Moony quirked a smirk.

“I’m just too tired to pace.” He joked, leaning forward on his knees to rub at his stubbled jaw, Sirius was a bit unsure about Remus’s facial hair at first, but he’d since taken a liking to it. He liked the satisfaction of it scratching his skin, another thing to help ground him, remind him where and when he was. Moony did look tired though, well, he always looked a little tired – the man never slept- but it was more than that, he looked drained. Like the writing from a quill desperate for ink; weak and faded. He usually only looked like that the day or two after a full, but the last moon was two weeks behind them now.

“You’ve not been sleeping.” It wasn’t a question. Moony sighed.

“Not unusual.” He shrugged. Sirius watched him as he remined slouched on the sofa, Remus met his gaze silently; it was Moony’s favourite tactic to avoid talking about something he didn’t want to. Moony would just sit and stare at Sirius, until the other man would inevitably change the subject just to fill the quiet. Sirius was well familiar with it by now, and he’d learnt when to give in to it, to let Moony dodge his questions. Sirius had also learnt that avoiding difficult conversations with Moony never really worked out, Remus seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he eventually caved with a sigh: “We’re out of leads in the UK.”

Sirius sighed, relieved when the silence was broken.

“Yes, we are.” He answered, Sirius had considered the possibility.

“I can’t leave the country without permission from the ministry.” Remus added, and Sirius’s breath paused. He hadn’t considered that.

“I don’t suppose it’s as easy as just filling out a form?” Sirius asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Remus snorted.

“’Fraid not.”

“Ah.”

“Ah’ Indeed.”

“Well, we could-“ Sirius paused, tapping his bottom lip with his middle and index as he thought. “What happens if you don’t?”

“Get permission?” Remus asked, Sirius nodded. “Prison.” Came the answer, Sirius cursed under his breath. “And I doubt I can get a travel pass anytime soon; I’ve looked into it. I need permission to enter from the wizarding government of the country I intend to visit, and I need to provide a reason for visit, an address whilst I’m there, and dates for when I plan to be there. Once I get all that,” Remus explained. “They can take up to 6 weeks to get back to me, and even then, they might just say no for the sake of it.”

Sirius spluttered in indignation.

“That’s ridiculous.” He told him, to which Remus shrugged.

“The joys of the registry.” He said, an exhausted kind of frustration coming over him as he met Sirius gaze again. “I won’t be able to come with you.”

Sirius felt his face settle into a deep frown, he tried to adjust to the idea, pictured it in his head; leaving Remus behind, going to Argentina, or Albania or wherever it was, on his own.

It was strange. Sirius had effectively spent the last twelve years on his own, he knew he was capable of it, he had the proof. But now, after only a few months of having Remus with him again, of having his Moony by his side, Sirius didn’t think he could do it. He had to – what other choice was there? But Merlin, he wasn’t sure he could bare it.

It must have been obvious, written all over his face as he considered what the next few weeks would look like, because soon Remus was stood in front of him, strong hands on his shoulder, his face.

“Hey.” Moony said softly, drawing Sirius back to the room. “We’ll figure something out, yeah?”

Sirius didn’t think they would, but he nodded anyway, before burying his face in Moony’s jumper, grabbing onto the other man as tightly as he could.

Hari didn’t call them that night, it quickly became obvious why, when Remus unfolded the daily prophet the next morning. Remus had considered hiding it, so Sirius wouldn’t see it when he woke, but he quickly decided it would be pointless and left it on the kitchen table for him. He checked the mobile, but Hari hadn’t called them back. He was in the front garden with a cigarette when he heard Sirius cursing from inside.

Hari didn’t call until that evening, Remus was alone in the living room – Sirius had left as padfoot thirty minutes ago – eager to run off the anxious energy that was practically vibrating through him.

“Remus?” Hari asked as he answered the phone.

“Hello Hari, Sirius has just gone for a walk, let me just send him patro-“ Remus began, certain Hari would rather speak to her godfather.

“No, that’s fine.” She interrupted, to his surprise.

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, I- can talk to him later.” Hari said, “I wanted to talk to you, actually, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Remus assured her quickly, hoping he hadn’t sounded like he didn’t want to speak to her. “How are you?”

“sh*t.” Came her reply.

“I bet.” Remus agreed, “We um, saw the article this morning.”

Hari groaned in response.

“Go on then, tell me all about it.” Remus promoted, and then she did, giving him a full update on the last few days. It seemed her classmates weren’t too happy with Hari, and that seemed to bother her more than being involuntarily entered into the tournament. It reminded Remus of how young she was, that being forced to compete in a potentially fatal tournament didn’t matter, when her best friend wasn’t talking to her.

“Hermione says it’s because I don’t tell him stuff anymore, like about summer, and what happened with those- at the park.” Hari was saying, and Remus felt his chest tighten.

“I’m sorry, Hari.” He heard himself say, “It can be so difficult, when there are things you can’t tell the people you care about.”

“Yeah.” Hari said, sniffling a little. “I don’t know what to do, because – what if I do tell him, and he- what if he thinks- what if he says it was my fault, or that I’m lying?”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Remus responds, a knee jerk reaction.

“I know that, but Ron…”

“Does that sound like something he would say?” He asked, and he was met with quiet.

“No.” She said eventually. “It doesn’t.”

“Then why do you think he would?” He asked, waiting patiently when the line went silent again, letting Hari take her time to answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe-“ Hari hesitated, “Maybe I think it’s true a little bit, that it was my fault, or maybe I was wrong about what happened. Maybe Professor Dumbledore didn’t mess with Dudley’s memory.”

Remus let out a heavy sigh.

“Do you trust me, Hari?”

“Yes.” The answer came so quickly, without any hesitation, it both broke and mended his heart at once.

“Well, I am telling you with absolute certainty, that the memory from Dudley was altered, okay?”

“But-“ Hari tried to cut him off, but he continued.

“And what you told me - it happened. Your version matches with what Padfoot saw that day. And none of it was your fault. Okay?”

A pause.

“Okay.” Came a quiet reply, hesitant, but there.

“And if you want to tell Ron, that’s your decision, if he’s a good friend, he’ll believe you. Is Ron a good friend, Hari?” Remus asked, there was less of a pause this time.

“He is.” She answered, “My best friend, him and Hermione.”

There was a sniffle again, and Remus heard the rustling of tissues, then the honk of Hari blowing her nose.

“Gross.” She huffed.

“Yeah, it is.” Remus teased, just to make her laugh. She did, just a little.

“How are you guys doing?” Hari asked.

Remus hesitated as he debated what to share with her.

“It’s… okay. Though we might have to widen our search to outside the UK soon.” He answered honestly, not mentioning that Sirius would likely have to go alone.

“He’s not abroad.” Hari replied instantly.

“He’s not?” Remus asked, because what else was he supposed to say?

“I don’t know.” Hari started, “I just- You said you would look for Pettigrew abroad and it- that’s wrong.”

“What makes you say that, Hari?” Remus pressed, hoping his tone was calm and even, whilst feeling almost the complete opposite.

“I- I think I had a dream.” Another pause. “I keep having dreams of a man in a house – Voldemort. He’s with two other men – I didn’t realise until now, but one of them is Peter Pettigrew. I’m certain of it.”

“And you think these dreams are… more than dreams?” He prompted.

“I think so, I mean- I know I have a link to him, my scar always hurts when I’ve looked at him before, and when I wake up after these dreams, it aches.”

Remus wishes Sirius would come home already.

“Okay, Hari can you tell me everything you can about these dreams?”

And she did, as vague and distorted as the dreams seemed to be, Hari tried her best to tell him everything she could.

“What about the house, is there anything distinctive about it?”

“It belongs to someone, someone dead, someone he hated.” Hari answered. “Maybe it was his dad’s?”

“Voldemort’s father?” Remus asked, struggling to conjure the image, it seemed odd for a man like him to have something as normal as parents.

“Yeah.” She ansered, sounding more certain as she went on. “He told me, in second year, his father was muggle, he hated him because of it.” Hari explained. “He was named for his father, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“He told you this? You spoke to him?” Remus nearly chocked.

“It was more like… his ghost? Yeah, but he was younger, sixteen. I don’t know how it worked.”

“That’s okay.” He hoped he sounded convincing, because it was very much not okay. “Alright so you think Peter is at this house?” Remus checked, “With Voldemort?”

“Yes.” Hari sounded more confident now, no doubt in her tone. Then: “I don’t think you should look for it.”

“If Peter’s there…” Remus began.

“But He’s there too, and another man and the- the snake. They’ll kill you. Voldemort will kill you.” Her voice was shaky now, it’s volume and pitch rising.

“We’re not going anywhere yet, Hari.” Remus back peddled quickly, “I’ll talk with Professor Black and Pads, we’ll have a plan, we won’t do anything stupid.”

Hari hesitated before a heavy sigh rattled down the line.

“Okay.” She said, only slightly unconvinced. “I’ve told Professor McGonagall about the dreams as well, maybe she can help.” She suggested, and Remus felt himself smile.

“Thank you, Hari. I’ll floo her soon.”

“Okay.” He could hear her affirmative nod through the phone. “I have to go now; will you tell Pads I said hello?”

“Of course, pup.” Remus smiled. “Call us again soon, okay?”

When Sirius came home, hair wet from the rain, bare feet caked in mud, it was to the image of Remus sat on the floor. His back was to the lit fire, his frame hunched over the coffee table that was laden with thick- muggle looking- files scattered across it.

Before Sirius could open his mouth to ask what on earth he was doing, Remus was speaking.

“You’re not going to Albania.” He announced without looking up from whatever document he was studying. “Go make us some coffees and then come help me look.”

Sirius co*cked his head.

“What are we looking for, exactly?”

Remus pushed a stack toward the other man.

“Tom Riddle.”

Chapter 23: I'll Know My Name When It's Called Again

Chapter Text

Dulcinea was annoyed.

Pansy and Milly had fallen out, Merlin knew why but they were barely talking, and when they did it was in snide comments and vague insults. Neither would tell her why, but both expected her to take their side. Pansy was being her usual self, judgemental and opinionated, just how Dulcinea liked her. Milly was being… different.

She’d been withdrawing since the summer, in which she wrote rarely and visited even less. Both had stopped completely after the cup. None of them were willing to acknowledge it.

Dulcinea had had a plan, a good plan, one that might help her two friends forget about all the big and scary things that waited for them after school. That plan involved making badges, lots of badges. She had been so sure it would work, nothing had united them like making fun of Potter did, and it had worked, for all of five minutes.

“I can’t wait to see the look on Potty’s face.” Pansy had grinned as she put the final touches on the ‘Potter Stinks’ side of the badge, holding it up with pride before dropping it in front of Dulcinea, who was now close to perfecting the charm to hide the image. Milly had finished the ‘Support Cedric’ side already.

“Do you think Cedric will like it?” Pansy pressed, leaning over Dulcinea’s shoulder to get a better look at the charm work. Her excited smile fell when she saw the other side to the badge. “Milly that’s terrible.”

Dulcinea flinched before looking to Milly for her reaction, the other girl held a stormy glare.

“What’s wrong with it?” Milly argued defensively, picking up the offending badge to inspect it further. Dulcinea hadn’t said anything – it wasn’t the part she cared about – but it was a little clumsy, the colours bled and smudged together.

“It looks like it was made by a troll.” Pansy replied deadpan. “Dulci, tell her it looks like it was made by a troll.”

Dulcinea sighed.

“She won’t say it because it doesn’t.” Milly snapped, throwing the badge down again. “Why does it matter anyway? Why are we even doing this?”

Dulcinea refused to look at Milly, determined to pretend the questions wasn’t directed at her. She wasn’t sure how either of them would react if she told them that Potter had been ignoring her all week, ever since the stupid tournament was announced. Potter spent all her time sulking around the castle, or arguing with Weasel. It was boring. Dulcinea preferred it when she was the biggest thorn in Potter’s side, all these other people did it wrong. Potter came from her arguments with Weasel looking like the world was ending, she looked sad and small, not furious and loud like she should.

Then there was Reeta Skeeter – who didn’t even seem to be writing her articles with the intention of pissing Potter off, she was just collateral damage in Skeeter’s efforts to make the Prophet front page. To Dulcinea, the idea of seeing someone like Potter as inconsequential was baffling.

And Professor Moody, who was simply terrifying in his intensity; his apparent absence for restraint took him beyond antagonistic and straight to dangerous.

Dulcinea couldn’t do anything to make them stop their pestering of Potter, so she could focus on spending more time duelling and bickering with her again. But she could give her a not so subtle prompt to look her way again. Potter could be a little slow, so it was important to remind her who was worth attention, and who should simply be ignored.

Dulcinea was not one to be ignored, not by Harriet Potter.

“Because Potter deserves to be taken down a peg or two!” Pansy shouted furiously, reminding Dulcinea of the lie she’d told her friends.

“For what?” Milly demanded back, drawing Dulcinea’s wide gaze, Milly was glaring at her as well now. “What did Potter actually do? What has she ever done?”

No. No. No. No.

Those weren’t questions she was supposed to ask. They weren’t supposed to talk about it.

“Don’t be dense, Mill.” Pansy spat. “You know what.”

Milly did, they all did.

“No. I don’t.” She said defiantly, her chin jutting as she stared Pansy down.

“Your father is in prison because of her lot!” Pansy hissed, her eyes glancing around their dorm, as though even here, with only the three of them, she was afraid to be overheard.

“My father is in prison because he deserves to be there.” Milly muttered, her voice low and eyes avoidant.

“You can’t say that, Milly.” Dulcinea finally butted in, her voice barely a whisper. “Not even to us.”

Milly met her gaze, her face the picture of hurt and betrayel. Dulcinea opened her mouth as though to speak, but she didn’t have any words for her.

They were all purebloods, all of their families’ members of the sacred 28, though that meant different things for all three of them.

For Dulcinea, it meant being the heir of the Malfoy line, it meant maintaining and building upon an ancient line of influential and powerful witches and wizards. It meant marrying some pureblood boy who would be an asset to her family, but who’s name would not overshadow her own. Dulcinea had assumed that would mean she and Theo Knott would be betrothed, but with the arrival of the Beauxbatons students and their families, her mother now seemed to be seeking a foreign wizard for her. But who he was didn’t matter, what mattered was how his family could be useful to the Malfoy’s, specifically Lucius.

Pansy’s family were nearly as old as the Malfoy’s, but they had little in the way of influence or capitol. Pansy would need to marry rich, preferably pureblood, but if his wizarding side was important enough then a half-blood would be acceptable – so long as there was no unfavourable blood in the last three generations, of course. Pansy would be expected to have a son, to take her father’s seat in the wizengamot, and to age gracefully so she remained a pretty ornament on her husband’s arm.

The Bulstrodes had been not unlike the Malfoy’s for a long time, but in recent years – though before Milly was born – things had changed for them. The downfall of the Bulstrode family began when Theresa Bulstrode married Tobias Mulciber, Milly’s father. A death eater. This wasn’t surprising or uncommon, not among their family circles. But Mulciber had been a known death eater. So confident in the Dark Lord’s victory, he had made no effort to hide his allegiance. This of course, went very poorly for him when the Dark Lord fell. He has been in Azkaban since Milly was three. Milly’s mother had worked endlessly to remove any evidence of Mulciber from her and her daughter, annulling their marriage and taking back her maiden name. Milly’s future in the wizarding world was one of unimportance and insignificance, a path of avoiding controversy and proving herself unlike her father, so that the next generation could rebuild.

This of course, all changed over the summer.

A war was coming, and their families would soon choose their sides for them.

“Milly, look-“ Pansy spoke, her anger seemingly having drained. “Let’s not fight, yeah? We’re all on the same side, aren’t we?”

Milly turned to Pansy, then back to Dulcinea, then sighed.

“I’ll redo the stupid badge.” She surrendered, sitting back down and pulling out her wand, vanishing the previous design before starting again.

Pansy seemed satisfied, smiling happily as she got back to work, but Dulcinea couldn’t shake the hot tension from her shoulders. She kept finding her gaze drawn to the other girl, who now sat quiet at her side, as though her outburst never happened.

The next morning, hours before breakfast, whilst the sun still had yet to rise, Dulcinea was up and dressed with more energy than any teenager had a right to so earlier in the day. With her bag packed full of the finished badges, she made her way down to the great hall, unbothered by her machinations, the house elves ignored her as she placed the badges down, one for each place setting. It was fortunate that the school’s population was so small; she was done with her task with time still left for her to return to her dorm and pretend to wake with the others.

Everyone would know who was responsible of course, but plausible deniability was important.

They didn’t have to wait long for Potter and Granger to finally come down for breakfast, but it still felt like hours to Dulcinea, who couldn’t help but watch the doorway with anticipation. When Potter finally found her way to breakfast, Dulcinea held her breath as she waited for the other girl to notice, her stomach flipping with anxiety.

Potter finally reached her usually seat, only then did she notice the badges so many of the students were sporting – not all of them were wearing them, but enough to make up at least half the hall. With a confused tilt of her head she picked up the badge by her plate, turning it over with a frown as it changed from ‘Support Cedric’ to ‘Potter Stinks’.

Dulcinea had anticipated countless reactions from the other girl, ranging from spluttering indignation to burning rage, always leading to her storming up to the Slytherin table, maybe to shout, or hex or duel her for it.

What Dulcinea hadn’t anticipated, was for Potter to burst out into laughter. Genuine laughter. Dulcinea could only watch in horror as Potter pinned the offensive badge to her own cloak, found Dulcinea’s shocked gaze and smiled at her, before taking her seat by a furious Granger.

“What the f*ck?” Pansy asked, rightfully flabbergasted at the turn of events.

But Dulcinea couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed that Potter hadn’t given her the reaction she’d wanted, because what she’d gotten was so much better.

One… two… three….four

Four, there were four bundles of bloomslang skin, Regulus rummaged through the shelves, perhaps one of the NEWT students had been lazy when tidying up after class. Though that would be unusual; his students learnt fairly quickly that laziness in Professor Black’s lessons was never tolerated.

He checked once then twice - there was definitely a bundle missing.

Regulus sighed, marking on his inventory that he needed to order more. As his quill scratched on the parchment a thought occurred to him, he stepped down from the ladder and made his way to another shelf.

He was missing bicorn horn powder. Frustrated now, he checked the next shelf he knew would be lacking – lacewing flies and leaches.

“Oh for-“ Regulus cursed. It didn’t take him long to come to a list of suspects, and at the very top sat the only three students in the history of his career that had been the combination of bold and stupid enough to have brewed Polyjuice from his stolen ingredients.

Regulus left the store cupboard, slamming the door and locking it with a snap of the key. Then, just because he was feeling petty, he laid down some particularly nasty wards. Nothing too extreme, or that Madam Pomfrey could fix, just something to remind the students – whoever they may be – that theft wouldn’t be tolerated. Besides, it would be obvious who the culprit was when they turned up to dinner with their fingers hexed into worms.

The halls were quiet as Regulus stormed back to his office - it was early in the morning - before breakfast brought the stampede of students up from their beds. Regulus liked to use the time to catch up on the more tedious parts of his role. After he sent off his orders for restocking, he had a pile of second years essays to pour through, though he was considering saving it for the evening, so he could enjoy a glass of wine to ease the process.

He was toying with the idea as he heard the distinct tap click of Alastar Moody’s limp, Regulus looked up to find the man turning a corner to come him way. It was unusual to see any of the other professors in this part of castle, aside from Professor Sprout, who he worked closely with due to the proximity of their house common rooms, and her role as head of herbology. Seeing Moody so far from the DADA classroom or Dumbledore’s office was an unusual sight. Moody barely missed a step when he caught sight of Regulus, quickly picking up his pace to approach him, much to Regulus’s disdain.

As a rule, Regulus did not like aurors, for reasons beyond counting. Moody was by far one of his least favourites.

“Good Morning, Professor Moody.” Regulus greeted, because auror or not, they were colleagues – for reasons Regulus still couldn’t fathom.

“Black.” Moody offered with a grunt, before stopping in his tracks, directly in front of the potion’s master. “Glad to catch you.”

Regulus didn’t think that was true but would entertain him regardless.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked neutrally. Moody flicked his tongue in a rather unattractive way, it seemed to be a tic the man couldn’t control, it was familiar in a way Regulus couldn’t pinpoint.

“Has Karkaroff approached you at all?” The man asked without preamble, Regulus co*cked a brow.

“I don’t think he’s interested in men, Auror Moody.” Regulus mocked, purposefully misunderstanding the other man. Regulus had expected disgust, annoyance, likely anger. He hadn’t expected Moody to smirk. It was most unsettling. Moody seemed to remember himself, and settled back into his frown.

“Don’t be stupid, boy.” That was more like it. “Has Karkaroff spoken to you at all since he arrived at Hogwarts, about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“About Voldemort?” Regulus specified, just to enjoy the flinch it usually invoked. “No, he has not.”

Moody scrutinised him a moment before seeming to accept the answer.

“Good to know.” He nodded. “Well, I won’t keep you. We both have places to be.” Much to Regulus’s displeasure, Moody clasped Regulus’s shoulder briefly as he passed by, before disappearing down the corridor with a tap click tap click. Regulus squashed the unsettled feeling the man rose in him and continued on his way.

Regulus found his way back to his office, he sat at his desk and began making his orders, as he sat at his desk and debated whether he would add Sirius’s vault details for the invoice – it was his godchild and her friends who were the likely culprits after all – his floo chimed.

With a flick of his wrist the wards let the caller through – there were only a small handful of people who had access to his office floo – he didn’t need to check before giving permission to enter.

He wasn’t surprised to see Mary McDonald step through – the only other person it was likely to be was Narcissa, and she wasn’t the type for unannounced visits to Hogwarts.

“Good Morning.” Regulus greeted, standing from his desk, he gestured to the chair opposite.

“Hello.” Mary nodded before taking the offered seat, Regulus sank down to his chair.

“Shall I call for tea?” He offered out of politeness, still feeling way out of depth when dealing with the woman.

Regulus had never really interacted with her when they were at Hogwarts together, an intentionally on his part, and likely Mary’s as well. Regulus only knew her as the muggleborn Sirius had run around with, most likely with the sole purpose of infuriating their mother. He wondered if Mary had realised that at the time, when Sirius held her hand or kissed her after a quidditch match, or in the great hall. Always where it would be seen, where it would get back to Regulus, who would always report to mother. Mary was too sharp not to have noticed.

He wondered if his brother ever apologised to her, was he there for her after what Mulciber had done? Regulus remembered the ugly grin on the boy’s face when he came into the dormitory, bragging about his perfection of the imperius curse, how he’d looked to Regulus for approval. Surely the Black heir would find it funny? It was what a mudbloods deserved after all.

Regulus wondered how Mary could look at him now without being sick, he certainly struggled. Maybe she didn’t realise the part he had played, he hadn’t been there, hadn’t cast the curse, but it was him they had bragged to. His favour they had craved, the boy destined to be the Dark Lord’s right hand, groomed to join the ranks of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

“No, thank you.” Mary replied, sounding as politely strained as he felt. It was somewhat reassuring. “I met with your lawyer.” Regulus nodded; he’d assumed as much when he’d seen the further funds come out of the Black vault. She shifted in her seat before continuing. “I wanted to thank you.” Regulus froze, swallowed, then forced himself into a stilted reply.

“No need.” He said. Mary frowned.

“No, there is.” She insisted. “I couldn’t afford a lawyer like this without your help, I know you’re only doing it for Sirius-“

“I’m not doing it for my brother.” Regulus interrupted firmly. Mary closed her mouth and arched a brow. “I’m not.” He added truthfully.

“Then, why?” She asked, disbelieving, Regulus shuffled in his seat slightly, wishing he hadn’t said anything.

“It is… necessary.” He eventually said. “It should be done.”

It was the truth, if not all of it.

She watched him with her dark eyes, and Regulus could have sworn she was a legilimens, the way she inspected him.

“Either way.” She said eventually, releasing him. “Thank you.”

Regulus nodded stiffly, then found himself fidgeting with a piece of parchment.

“I also have an update, from Remus and Sirius.” Mary pulled open her bag to produce a white envelope- muggle stationary, so Remus had written it then. Regulus frowned at the inoffensive paper, taking it from her grasp. “They’re changing tactics apparently.”

Regulus opened the sticky lip of the envelope, cringing at the awful texture of the muggle adhesive. He scanned the letter; he froze when his eyes landed on the name.

“Tom Riddle.”

“Voldemort’s name.” Mary provided.

“I know.” Regulus said, dropping the letter to the table, face down. “Why?”

“They have reason to believe Peter is with him.” Mary answered, her lips twisting in displeasure.

“Harriet told them something.” Regulus filled in the rest, Mary’s eyes widened a fraction before she nodded.

“You know about her dreams?” She asked. He shook his head. “Oh. Well, Hari has been having dreams that might be… related to Voldemort.”

Regulus nodded, then looked down to the blank side of the paper.

“Do you know anything?” Mary asked, Regulus snapped his gaze up to meet hers – a mistake – as he immediately felt like her hostage. “Anything about what’s happening between Hari and…. Him.”

Regulus let his eyes fall shut, taking a breath.

“Has Remus told you about the previous years? What Hari’s done?”

Mary nodded slowly, watching him carefully.

“Dumbledore believes they are linked, that the magic cast by Lily Evans and the Dark Lord that night, created a bond.” He explained, ignoring how she flinched at the mention of her friend. “It’s why she can speak parstletongue, why her wand matches his, why he’s obsessed with her.”

“How he stayed here.” Mary added, Regulus felt his mouth open in shock before he quickly closed it again.

“That is… one of Dumbledore’s theories.” Regulus said.

“What about your theories?” Mary pressed, and Merlin he wishes she wouldn’t, he wished he’d never opened his damn floo.

“I don’t have any theories.” He answered, honestly. Mary didn’t believe him, or perhaps she did – she pressed on.

“Then what do you know?”

The thing about occulmancy is, it doesn’t teach you to hide your thoughts, not in the literal sense. Regulus learnt how to deflect and distract, to present a truth that took attention away from the things you want kept secret. Lies are easy to find when you know what they look like. So, Regulus had learnt that the best way to keep his secrets safe, was to never lie, and so he rarely did.

The thing about half-truths is, they only work if the person you’re telling them to wants to believe them.

Regulus met her gaze a moment, Mary kept her chin jutted out and her eyes steady, it was a challenge if ever he saw it.

“Why do you think I know anything?” Regulus asked.

“You’re being avoidant.” Mary answered shortly. “If you know something that might risk Hari’s safety, you need to tell me.”

“I cannot.” Regulus said.

“You cannot.” Mary stated, not a question.

“You don’t have any reason to trust me.” He began.

“No, I don’t.” She interrupted, settling into her chair. “You were a death eater.”

It had been a long time since he’d reacted to being called that.

“I was.”

“Dumbledore said you turning coat had helped win the war.” She continued. “But he’s never said how. Why?”

“Because the war isn’t over.” Regulus answered, “It won’t be until Voldemort is gone for good.”

Mary considered him a moment.

“Voldemort died the night he went after James and Lily. Hari survived thanks to Lily’s magic, but it also created a link between Voldemort and Hari. This link means that Voldemort never truly died.” Mary concluded. “So, what did you have to do with that?”

Regulus tapped his finger against the wood of the table.

“I can’t say.”

“What does it mean for Hari?” Mary pushed, “Is there a way to break the bond? Can Voldemort die?”

Regulus felt his chest tighten, he looked to his forearm, the one where the mark sat, hidden beneath a glamour and a long sleeve. He didn’t glance at the other, he didn't dare.

“You’re asking the right questions.” He told her, “I can’t answer them, but would you believe me if I told you I was trying to?”

He looked up and found her eyes were also resting on his marked arm, her gaze intent, like she could see it through the layers.

“There isn’t a way to keep her out of this war, is there?” Mary looked up to meet his gaze, she looked as though their conversation had aged her a decade. She didn’t just look sad she looked… hopeless.

Regulus gave the barest of nods.

“Do you have children, Regulus?” Mary asked.

Regulus’s first instinct was to laugh at the idea, having children required certain inclinations that he most certainly lacked. Yet, to say he wasn’t a parent felt disingenuous, ridiculously, it would feel like he was betraying Dulcinea somehow.

“Not my own, no.” He answered, because Mary didn’t need to know the details of his relationship with his own godchild.

“Then you won’t know what it feels like to fail them.” Mary whispered.

Regulus was met with images of the bruises he’d seen on Narcissa’s collar, of the bile in his throat when he’d seen the matching set on Dulcinea. He thought of when Harriet Potter first arrived at Hogwarts, of her in the infirmary within the year because Voldemort had not only survived, but found her.

“I know failure, intimately.” Regulus gripped his own wrist, then turned back to her. “You’re not failing her. The rest of the us did, we failed her repeatedly, but you, Lupin, my brother – you are not.”

Mary watched him carefully, her face open with hurt.

“Why do you care about her?” Mary asked, “It’s not just about Voldemort, about what’s right or wrong, you lost someone. I mean- it was a war, we all lost someone. But some loses are bigger than others, sometimes we lose someone, and it felt like the whole world went with them.” She paused, her eyes seemed vague and distant, her smooth fingers twisting her wedding band absently. "Losing Lily felt like that, that night I lost all of them, I'll never be who I was before that night." She turned back to him. "You know that feeling. Don't you?"

Regulus felt like his breath had been punched out of him, he couldn’t reply even if he wanted to.

“I won’t ask who.” She mercifully added.

“Thank you.” He rasped out. And for the first time, Mary Williams nee McDonald, smiled at Regulus, a weak, watery thing - not pity, commradary almost. An acknowledgement of their shared pain.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” She concluded, getting to her feet, she look to the floo, hesitated, then turned back to him. “James was always against any kind of dark magic, hated it with a passion, the Gryffindor he was. Lily though, she was more pragmatic, especially when the war started.” Regulus didn’t look up from his desk, he didn’t dare move, not even breath. “And when they went into hiding, she went further, she was going to do anything to protect her daughter. She told me, that she was reaching out to someone, a dark wizard – that they were teaching her magic to help her keep Hari safe.” Regulus dragged his eyes up to meet hers, a desperate attempt to appear unbothered. “I had assumed it was Snape. That she was using his obsession with her to get what she needed.” A pause. “It wasn’t Snape, was it?”

Regulus took a deep breath.

“No. It wasn’t.” It came out as a confession, with a heavy sigh.

Mary didn’t say a word, just nodded slightly, then turned and left him. Regulus felt as though he deflated.

Finally, he let himself pull back his sleeves. On his left sat the ugly dark mark, a faded hideous thing. On his right, the skin lay pale and unmarked, he grabbed it anyway, the magic still sat there, quiet and patient in his blood. A reminder of a promise long kept.

Chapter 24: You Told Me The Doors Were Open

Chapter Text

“Dragons? I mean really?” Hermione complained with an exasperated huff and throw of her hands in the air, earning her a few cautious glances from the other students as they made their way to the library. Hari was grateful for Hermione’s help, glad to accept her offer with preparing for the first task, what she didn’t appreciate was going to the library at 8am on a Saturday morning. “Surely that can’t be ethical? It must be a form of animal abuse, I’m surprised Charlie is letting them.”

“Oh yeah, the poor fire breathing, flying dinosaur. How will it cope? Nevermind me, who will have to fight it.” Hari bemoaned with a role of her eyes, dragging her feet on the tiles as they made their way.

“Well of course, I’m worried about you!” Hermione scolded with a very serious frown. “I can be upset for more than one thing.”

“I’m well aware.” Hari agreed with a smirk, and it was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes. “And I appreciate your indignation on my behalf, as always.” Hari added, bemusedly smiling down at the stupid badge she now kept pinned on the inside of her cloak, which Hermione found absolutely bizarre. All things considered, Hari realised it was a strange thing to do, Malfoy had made hundreds of badges insulting Hari, then distributed them to the entire student body. For reasons beyond anyone’s understanding – including her own – Hari had enjoyed it thoroughly, it was comforting in a way. No matter how much things changed, how unsettled and chaotic Hari’s life became, some things were constants. Even a year ago, the idea of Malfoy becoming a point of stability for Hari, was entirely unthinkable. But now, it felt like it was one of the few things in the world that made sense to her.

The library was almost deserted – no surprises there, it was the weekend after all – the two girls didn’t see any students until they reached the magical creatures section, when they found Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, and a few other students Hari didn’t recognise.

“Hi Hari, hi Hermione.” Cho greeted with a smile, and a wave inviting the two younger girls closer.

“Hi Cho, Cedric.” Hermione smiled politely at the other students, whilst Hari tried not to choke on her spit.

“Hi Hari.” Cedric said as he looked up from a conversation with his friend, her smiled brightly at her, and Hari failed in her struggles and began coughing.

Hermione graciously thumped her back for her.

“Hari’s just getting over a cough.” She lied smoothly, because she was a good friend like that. Hari nodded along as she finally cleared her throat.

“Er sorry.” She flushed, “We should go… somewhere else, don’t want to pass on my germs.” Hari grabbed Hermione’s sleeve, hoping to retreat and save a modicum of her dignity, only to find her friend unmoving.

“Don’t be silly, you’ve just got a tickle in your throat, you’re long past being contagious.” Hermione said, and Hari decided she was not a good friend, she was actually the worst friend and Hari hated her. She ignored Hari’s glares and instead turned back to the group. “Are you preparing for the first task as well?”

“As much as you can prepare for a surprise.” Cedric complained with a good natured smirk. “Is that what you’re both here for?” He asked them.

Hari watched Hermione answer, then begin smoothly conversing with the older students, talking like it was easy. No stumbling over her words, to awkwardness to her whatsoever. It wasn’t something Hari got to see often; Hermione didn’t socialise all that much outside of them and Ron, and when she did, it was usually for pragmatic reasons. About school work, to lend someone a quill, or answer a question about curfew or their timetables. It made it easy for Hari to forget how good Hermione was at just… talking to people, how well she could fit in seamlessly into a group, like she belonged there. Hari could see her body language shift, her tone change, ever so subtly she became someone slightly different. Still Hermione, but adjusted, like when you move furniture to a different room, and all of a sudden it looks all new.

“Isn’t that right, Hari?” Hermione’s voice – which was ever so slightly higher then when it was just the two (or three) of them – interrupted Hari’s musing.

“Huh? Oh yeah, definitely.” Hari answered, having no idea what she was agreeing to. Hermione had a look that told her she was very aware Hari wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. Something about Fleur Delacour, maybe?

“I saw you two talking the other day at breakfast.” Cho piped up, catching Hari’s gaze. “Are you two… friends?” She asked, leaning forward as though the answer was very important.

“Er, I mean, I don’t know her very well. But she seems nice.” Hari answered, looking to Hermione as though she might know more. “She was really kind about the whole interview thing.” She added, hoping it answered the question.

Cho gave a satisfied smile like it did, at least.

“I thought so, she seems like a good person.”

Cedric made a chocked sound like he was trying not to laugh, Hari immediately blushed, had she said something stupid? There was a sound like a stomping of a foot, and Cedric yelped then glared at Cho, who was now looking back at her book as though nothing happened.

“Are the others here?” Hermione asked, “Contestants I mean, you haven’t seen them researching have you?”

“It’s why we’re here.” Cedric answered, frowning one last time at Cho before turning back to the younger girls. “Cho was sta-“ Another thump. “Ow! Studying. Cho was studying in the library and saw Fleur and the other French students in the magical creatures section, we figured it was related to the task.”

Hari glanced around the other gathered students, all pouring over tombs on different magical creatures – werewolves, centares, unicorns….

“Is no one looking at dragons?” Hari asked, turning back to Cedric, who co*cked his head. “You should be looking at dragons.” Hari added, she felt Hermione give her that look she did when she wanted Hari to stop talking, she chose to ignore it. It was Hermione’s fault they were still here anyway.

“Dragons.” Cedric repeated, the colour drained from his face a bit. “Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately, I’m very certain.” Hari assured him, she tugged out a lock of hair from her ponytail, showing him the burnt end of it – she’d gotten a little too close last night when Hagrid took her to the forest.

“Well… that’s…” Cedric teetered out as he looked around his friends. One of the boys in a Hufflepuff tie slapped the other boys shoulder.

“It was nice knowing you whilst I could, Diggs. Cus you’re absolutely f*cked, mate.” He informed him cheerly, before closing the now useless book on dryads he had in front of him.

“Oh don’t be like that Stewart, I’m sure Cedric will be fine.” Cho dismissed, then turned back to Hari. “You’ll all be fine.”

Hari liked Cho, so she didn’t laugh when the other girl said that, instead she gave a smile that felt so awkward she wanted to bite her own lips off.

“We should get going.” Hermione tugged Hari’s sleeve. “It wouldn’t do to look like you’re colluding. See you later.”

The two girls left the older students to their research, followed by a chorus of ‘later’s and ‘see you’s.

Hermione dragged them along to another table, where she opened up the library index to search for the books she wanted. Trust Hermione to have not only found the library index, but to keep a copy on her at all times. The never-ending scroll spilled open as she spelled in a search for the books she wanted.

“What are you looking for?” Hari asked, flopping forward in her chair, her elbows on the table and face in her hands, the picture of boredom.

“Charlie gave a list of books he recommended.” Hermione answered, her eyes not leaving the scroll, her left hand scribbling furiously on a bit of parchment.

“You spoke to Charlie?” Hari asked, when had she done that? Hari hadn’t even met Charlie yet, the mysterious older brother, he left Hogwarts the year before them. Afterwards he went straight to Romania, he’d only been back a handful of times since, and Hari hadn’t been at the Weasley’s for any of them.

“No, Ron did, he gave Ron a list and he gave it to me.” Hermione informed her casually, finishing her notes with a firm underline and full stop, before putting her scroll away. She paused when she saw the sour expression Hari carried. “He’s being a berk.” She said firmly. “An unbelievable dense, tactless, insensitive boy. But he does care Hari.”

Hari shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.”

Hermione, satisfied, nodded before duplicating her list and passing one to Hari.

“You start from the top and I’ll get the bottom.”

Hari grimaced at the dauntingly long list of tombs. It was kind of Hermione to pretend they’d be working 50/50, but Hari knew Hermione would get through her half before Hari could get through just one.

It turns out, Hari managed to get through two of the textbooks, the first was upsettingly detailed guide to the dragon digestive system, so Hari was now fully prepared for when the dragon at her and she got to see it’s five stomachs up close. The second was study on dragon mating patterns, which she sincerely hoped wasn’t necessary information, she chose to believe that Charlie suggested it as a joke, and that she wouldn’t need to put the fact that dragons have corkscrew appendages to use. Though the research would make her next read through of The Hobbit much more interesting. She wondered briefly if Tolkien had been a wizard, given how accurate he seemed to have been, though from what she could tell, they couldn’t talk. Maybe he had been a dragon-parseltongue? Was that a thing? Dragon’s were reptile’s after all.

“Do you think I can talk to dragons?” Hari asked aloud, Hermione was deep in her notes, several quill stuck out of her hair as she chewed on her thumbnail.

“Hm?” She asked, turning her head to Hari, but keeping her eyes firmly on the page in front of her.

“Parseltongue, does it work on dragons?” Hari pushed, abandoning her meagre notes – half a page to Hermione’s five.

“No, I checked.” Hermione answered, before going back to her book. “There’s never been a record of a wiccan who could talk to dragons, though a few have claimed, it’s never been proven.”

“Huh.” Hari slumped back, she let her eyes wonder the library, it was a bit busier now as they approached lunch time. “Hermione, what’s colluding?” Hari asked, remembering the other girl mention it earlier.

“It’s when people work together on something when they shouldn’t, like sharing test answers or copying each other’s essays.” Came the distracted reply. It sounded an awful lot like what Hari and Ron always did, though they usually just called it ‘helping’. “in this case, if you’re caught colluding then both tourney competitors are disqualified.”

Hari opened her mouth, but Hermione was quick to intercept.

“No, you can’t get disqualified, I’ve checked the rules and you’d have to actively sabotage another champion – which wouldn’t be fair to them. Or you’d have to use performance enhancers like liquid luck.”

“I could do that.” Hari argued, she’d heard of the potion before, she wasn’t sure where she would get some, but she was sure they could figure it out. They’d made Polyjuice before, well, Hermione had.

“Being disqualified means a fine of up to 2,000 galleons and a lifetime ban from all ministry organised sporting events – that includes quidditch.” Hermione added, smiling sympathetically at Hari. “Believe me, I’ve looked into it.”

“I don’t play quidditch at ministry events, ‘Mione.” Hari argued, sulking back in her chair.

“No, but being disqualified means you never could.” Hermione reasoned. “If you really want to, we can look into it, I just figured you’d like to have the option.”

Hari fiddled with the corner of her textbook. Hermione was right, of course. As always. Hari didn’t have much of a plan for what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, but if she had to, quidditch would definitely make the list. The galleons was another thing, she wasn’t sure how much money was in her parents vault, but she was sure it was more than that. Money wasn’t something Hari was used to thinking about, before Hogwarts it was a foreign thing that adults used, Hari wasn’t even sure she’d even held money before, just seen the crinkled £5 notes Dudley would flash around before he spent it all on sweets.

Now Hari had more money then she knew what to do with, she’d don’t what any kid would do- she spent it on sweets and toys and presents for her friends. Hari wasn’t sure if she could do that once the Dursley’s didn’t have to look after her. Remus and Sirius had bought her everything she needed over the summer, but Hari figure that was just because they excited to meet her, she didn’t think that could be fulltime thing. Mary had her own children, she and Joe didn’t need the financial burden Hari was sure to be. Hari needed to be more careful with her money, it needed to last until she was done with school and get a job. It wasn’t for sweets or pranks anymore.

That was one bonus of the tournament, she supposed, if she won then she could give the money to whoever ended up looking after her. The Dursley’s always complained about how much it cost to keep Hari, she didn’t want Mary, Remus or Sirius to worry about that as well.

“How much does it cost to have a kid?” Hari asked. This time, Hermione put her book down before answering.

“About £10,000 a year. Hari, why on earth do you need to know that?” The other girl asked, her face thoroughly scrunched in confusion.

“How do you know that off the top of your head?” Hari questioned, fully distracted from her train of thought.

“I read.” Hermione emphasised the book in front of her, she had a page on different dragon breed flight patterns open in front of her. “You know, the thing we’re supposed to be doing now?”

Hari flushed sheepishly.

“I got bored.” She admitted guiltily. Hermione sighed.

“I can see that.” She set her book down to check her watch. “Shall we take a break? We can get a walk before lunch.”

Hari immediately jumped to put her things away, eagerly excited for the fresh air, as far away from the dusty books as she could.

Hermione insisted they reviewed what they found as they went, but Hari didn’t mind, as long as they were moving she was happy to talk through their research.

“…they are predators after all, so fast movements draw their attention. Keeping slow and hidden is key – their hearing is very good but their smell is awful – which makes sense, they do breath fire after all…”

Hari nodded along to Hermione’s lecture, wondering how she might put the information to use, it was difficult considering she didn’t know what she would actually be doing. At least she knew to wear quiet shoes, maybe she could work on wordless casting? Though the spell would make a sound when it was cast anyway, and she wasn’t sure what progress she could make in a few short weeks. So far all was getting was that they’d make for good seekers; they loved gold, picked up fast movements, they didn’t even need brooms…

“Potter!” The rough voice of Professor Moody made both girls jump, he stood before them both, blocking the hall. “D’you ears need clearing out girl? I’ve never met a witch less observant. Come, I need a word.”

“Er, what about?” Hari asked, picking her brain quickly – they didn’t have DADA homework, did they?

“Do you always answer back to your elders, Potter?” He demanded impatiently.

“It’s the weekend, Professor.” Hermione interjected.

“Well spotted, Granger. You’d make an excellent calendar.” Moody snapped unkindly. “It’s a wonder Professor McGonagall had to ask me to come find you for your meeting with her, she was expecting you at half eleven.”

Hermione’s eyes immediately lit up with panic.

“No! That was for next week I couldn’t possibly…”

“Would you like me to tell her she was mistaken?” Moody offered, to which Hermione squeaked out something that sounded like ‘noofcoursenot’ before apologising to Hari and running quickly towards the transfiguration classroom. Moody rolled his eye before turning his attention back to Hari.

“Too much respect for authority does you no good.” He warned with a shake of his head.

“That’s a weird thing for an auror to say.” Hari pointed out without really thinking.

“Know a lot of ‘em do you?” He mocked before continuing without preamble- “What are you going to do about the dragon?”

“What dragon?” Hari responded quickly, remembering she wasn’t supposed to know about the first task.

“You need to be smart to play coy, Potter.” He scolded impatiently. “The first task, what will you do? The other students are all older, strong, faster, and better wizards. How will you beat them?”

“My charming personality, sir.” Hari snarked at the wholly unpleasant man. “Since I clearly have nothing else going for me.”

“Don’t get smarmy with me, I’m trying to help you here.” Moody scolded, Hari tried not to snort at the idea of Professor Moody wanting to help her. “You need to think about what you can do better than the others, or at least, something they won’t think of.”

Hari didn’t think there was anything, all the others were purebloods, so not only did they have at least a year on her, they also had grown up with magic, they’d been learning spell theory before Hari even knew it existed. Hari was good at defence, but she was sure the others would know more. She was good on a broom, but Krum was a professional seeker, and they couldn’t bring their broom’s anyway…

“Do you know what I’m allowed to bring to the task?” Hari asked the man, he didn’t seem to know at least a bit about the tournament, it wouldn’t hurt to get some information.

“Only your wand.” Moody answered, and Hari deflated. “They’re constructing an arena over the water, just below Gryffindor tower. I’d say that’s close enough for a good ‘accio’, wouldn’t you?”

Hari considered it, if she left her window open and he broom out… but then could she really fly faster than a dragon? Hemione would know how fast they fly, and as long as she stayed in its periphery….

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Moody announced, before moving past her down the hall. “I’m sure Granger will be in the great hall by now.”

Hermione was in the great hall – both flushed from her mad dash to Professor McGonagall’s office and embarrassed from having interrupted said professor’s faculty meeting. Of course, Hermione had remembered the date correctly, Hari thought that maybe Moody had a point about having ‘too much respect for authority’.

It was difficult to get any time alone for the few following days, between calls to Remus and Sirius with Hermione, all to give Hari wildly different advice for how to approach the tasks (Sirius was a big fan of the broom idea, whilst Remus deemed it too reckless to try flying and suggested accio-ing other objects she could hide nearby, like sleeping powder or modified dung bombs from Zonkos - Hermione quickly interjected that the use of those objects on dragons is highly illegal – Hari thought that was insane that magically pranking dragons was apparently a crime, but trapping teenagers in a room with them was fine). Every other waking moment was spent practicing Hari’s accio and range, it was a fairly simply thing given how familiar she was with her broom by now, and how eager it was to obey her, but still Hermione insisted on practicing it, alongside various fire shielding and water summoning spells.

All that preparation made sneaking out increasingly difficult, but it was Hari’s specialty by now, so eventually she found the time. As strange as it sounded, Hari was excited to spend some time with Malfoy, the corner of the Chamber they had claimed their own – mostly from Malfoy transfiguring various rubble like furniture. They’d created their hideout from a half collapsed tunnel – nearer the entrance and far from the basilisk – most of the rubble was cleared and now a rug Hari had pinched from the common room lay out in the centre – making for a softer place to fall if they were duelling. Malfoy had shortly after added cushions – Slytherin, to offset the Gryffindor coloured rug – and of course to the side sat the chaise lounge Malfoy had proudly transfigured, she had rudely declined making Hari any kind of chair, and Hari had yet to make one that wouldn’t collapse as soon as anyone tried to sit on it.

Overall, it had become a fairly pleasant place to spend their time, especially once Malfoy had added some scented candles to cover the very strong dead-snake-in-an-underground-damp-cave smell, though Hari still liked to complain about them. Said candles were alite when Hari arrived, casting a warm glow that made it look down right cosy, Malfoy sat on one of the cushions, her legs folded politely to the side so she sat on her hip, her hair falling prettily into a curtain on one shoulder. In the warm lighting, her silvery hair looked like spun gold, the ends long enough to brush gently on the book she was reading - Animagi – A discussion of the art of body transfiguration. It was the same book Sirius had given Hari, she’d already read it cover to cover and had left it in the Chamber for her and Malfoy to study it – something they hadn’t had much of a chance to do given the whole tournament fiasco.

“Evening.” Hari called by way of greeting, before collapsing onto the cushion opposite, landing into a far less graceful lounging position. Malfoy glanced up from her book to look down her nose at Hari, assessing her casual posture with an offended scrunch of her nose.

“Good evening.” She replied cooly, turning back to the book to pretend to keep reading. Hari enjoyed noticing these things, the little tactics Malfoy used to seem so calm and collected, they’d become even more obvious now she’d spent some time around Sirius. It must be a family trait, she thought, certain that Professor Black did the same.

“Why are you laughing?” Malfoy looked up to scowl at her, Hari grinned.

“I’m not.” She lied.

“Hmph.” Was Malfoy’s reply as she slapped the book closed, then carefully put it to the side. “I suppose you won’t have the time to study animagi this year at all, will you? Being Hogwarts Champion is keeping you busy.” Hari didn’t miss the sarcasm.

“Thanks for the badges by the way.” She said, opening her outer cloak to show said badge pinned on her jumper.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The blonde scoffed, but Hari saw her cheeks go red in the candlelight. “You can’t prove anything.”

Hari snorted a laugh as she pushed herself up to sitting.

“We’re not in court, Malfoy.” She teased. “But yes, I don’t think I’ll have much time for it, and I’m already spending so much time preparing for this task – I don’t have the brain power for it.” Hari admitted, more than a bit disappointed – another thing this stupid tournament has ruined for her.

“And you have so little to begin with.” Malfoy added with mock sincerity, as though she was truly concerned for the deficiency of Hari’s mind. “So, what is the first task? Father hasn’t told me anything.”

Hari quickly informed Malfoy of everything she knew so far – which was very little – and the preparations Hermione had been helping her with so far.

“Wow.” Malfoy uttered once Hari had finished, a frown creasing her brow. “Whoever put your name in the goblet definitely wants you dead.”

“What?” Hari asked, somewhat blindsided by the comment. Dulcinea looked at her like she was stupid.

“The tournament is already famous for being dangerous, but from what I’ve seen of the past event, non were as dangerous as dragons. Clearly, whoever put your name in isn’t simply trying to mess with you, they’re probably trying to kill you.” She explained carefully, her gaze drawn to the middle distance, only coming back to Hari once she’d finished. “What?” She asked, when she saw Hari’s puzzled look.

“You believe me?” Hari eventually spoke, her voice quiet with disbelief.

“Obviously.” Malfoy answered. “You’re an idiot, Potter, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think you’re stupid enough to do this, and I don’t think you’d lie about it if you did.” She ended with a shrug, as if it was so very simple.

Hari felt very stupid at how touched she was, her throat tightening to turn her voice embarrassingly croaky.

“Er-um. Thanks then, I guess.” She spoke. “For believing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re a terrible liar.” Malfoy frowned, dismissing the idea for a flick of her wrist. “Wait.” She paused. “Does Weasel thing you’re lying? Is that why you two broke up?” Malfoy demanded, her gaze turning scrutinising.

“We didn’t ‘break-up’, we’re friends, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Hari scolded, not willing to talk about Ron with the Slytherin. Friendship with Malfoy was a delicate and violent thing, and it depended very much on neither of them talking about their friends. Really, talking about anything from their own lives never went well, usually ending in an explosive argument and neither of them talking outside of snarky arguments in the hallways for a week, or five. Some days it made Hari wonder why she even bothered making the effort to be friends with Malfoy, but more often than not Hari would remember when she once made the Slytherin laugh so hard juice came out her nose, or how good it feels to have the other girl look at her with something other than disgust or mockery, to actually smile at her, and for Hari to know she was the one that caused it.

“Fine by me.” Malfoy scoffed nastily in the way Hari really hated, she elected to ignore the other girls sourness and quickly change the topic.

“Do you want to practice your patronus some more?” She offered, pushing her self to her feet, Malfoy hesitated just a moment.

“Fine.” She agreed, getting up from her perch in one smooth motion. “But you still have to practice with the doubling charm, and we should use a smaller rock this time, in case you’re not able to cancel it again. I rather like not being buried alive.”

“Fine.” Hari dragged out with a tired sigh, then got to work on finding a suitable test subject.

Chapter 25: I Begin to Shake for No Reason At All

Chapter Text

Hari had twenty three hours until she would have to face a dragon.

She still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d be doing, but she did know that it would take place in the newly built arena that sat in the great lake. It reminded her of the Greek coliseums she’d seen ruins of in school books, a circle in the centre where gladiators would fight lions and chimera’s, and rows of stone seats surrounding it, looking more like steps than chairs.

Hari had seen the ministry staff there that morning, casting protective enchantments around where the audience would be. It felt surreal, seeing these wizards put so much effort into keeping the spectators safe from the dragons, when she would be thrown in the middle with it. She really hoped she wouldn’t die. Hari couldn’t decide whether it would be more embarrassing for her or Voldemort if she died tomorrow after he had failed three times already.

In the evenings, after she’d spent her afternoon practicing accio with Hermione, then spent another hour with Dulcinea, further preparing for the upcoming trials, Hari would find herself standing in front of the basilisk. She’d told Dulcinea it was an exposure therapy, of sorts. Dragon’s were smaller than basilisks, and though they couldn’t breathe fire, nor fly, their venom and their petrifying gaze, did make them the deadlier of the two reptiles.

Though, she didn’t think she’d get a sword tomorrow, and no phoenix’s would swoop into help. She wouldn’t have Ron their either. Well, he would be, in the audience, probably scowling at her. Hari was trying very hard not to think about it, but every time she saw her best friend, she was unable to shake the hurt from his stony glare, or his cold shoulder. He wasn’t even talking to her anymore. Hermione kept telling her that he’d come around eventually, and that Hari just needed to talk to him. She’d tried a few times, but it only ended more arguments, especially with that Shoebuckle boy he was spending all his time with now. Hari didn’t think she’d ever spoken to the other boy before, but he clearly hated her, and seemed delighted that she and Ron had fallen out.

Ron was probably with him now, since he wasn’t in the common room with the other Gryffindor boys. Hari sat by the fireplace, a dragonology textbook open on her lap and completely ignored. Hermione thought they should spend the last day looking for any information they might have missed, now Hari’s accio was as good as it was going to get before tomorrow. Hari had wanted to sneak away to practice her geminio some more with Malfoy, but Hermione didn’t seem likely to leave her side today. Hari appreciated it for the most part, Hermione was worried about her and wanted to help, and Hari wasn’t exactly going to tell her best friend about Malfoy. It should have felt strange, to keep their friendship secret from everyone, but when Hari thought about it, it would feel more strange any other way.

Hari and Malfoy had hated each other, everyone knew that, their duels and taunts always loud and dramatic. She didn’t know when it changed, or how, but it had. Hari and Malfoy were… friends didn’t feel right, but it was something other than mortal enemies, that was for certain. Hari didn’t know how to explain that to anyone else, even Hermione, who understood everything, Maybe that was why Hari didn’t want Hermione to know, because she would understand, and that thought was as unnerving as Moody’s glass eye.

Instead, Hari pretended she didn’t have anywhere else to be, and oscillated between pretending to read the textbook Hermione had dropped on her, and seeing how long she could get away with throwing balled up parchment at Neville before he noticed. (The answer was 3 throws before Seamus noticed and a paper ball fight took place).

Hari was able to forget about Ron and the looming trial for almost the entirety of that afternoon. Then evening came and everything went rather thoroughly tit* up.

Hari had decided she deserved a break from everything boring, and convinced Hermione that flying practice would be much more useful than more reading. And so, Hari found herself on the pitch with Ginny, who had volunteered to through bludgers at Hari for a few hours ‘to help you for tomorrow, of course’. Hari wasn’t sure how a bunch of bruises would help her, but it was always fun to fly with Ginny, and she was pretty good at not getting hit by bludgers by now – mostly. Hermione took her usually spot in the sheltered teachers section of the stadium, though tonight she was joined by Luna – much to her dismay. Hari could practically hear Hermione’s teeth clenching halfway across the pitch.

Hari and Ginny enjoyed chasing each other around the pitch, and even Hermione seemed to be enjoying herself eventually. Luna had somehow won the other girl over by talking about muggle music, and the two of them were quickly caught up in ranking the Backstreet Boys – Hari didn’t know much about the boy band, but she had heard the name Nick Carter enough to know who Hermione would choose for number one. Just as Hari and Ginny were taking a break to collect the stray balls, -and Luna and Hermione were debating the merits of ruggedness vs boyish charm – Hari heard the clatter of quidditch gear as a few older boys walked onto the pitch. With Ron and Shoebuckle in tow.

“What’s he doing with them?” Ginny asked to herself as she frowned at her brother. Hari recognised one of them from the Hufflepuff team, as well as an older Gryffindor - Cormac McLaggen, Hari only knew about him because she’d overhead Angelina Johnson complain about him pulling girls bra straps in class.

“Let’s go.” Hari suggested, already turning to their friends in the stadium. She didn’t want to have another argument with Ron, she had enough to deal with. Ginny didn’t follow, instead her frown turned to a glower as she watched her brother.

“Just a sec.” Ginny dismissed with a lazy wave, before flying down to meet the group. Hari glanced nervously to Hermione, the others hadn’t noticed the approach, too wrapped in conversation. Steeled herself before turning back to follow Ginny.

“Oi!” Hari heard the younger girl shout to the group, Ron’s expression turned sourer immediately, much to the other boys’ amusem*nt.

“Looks like your mum’s hear to pick you up, Weasley.” McLaggen teased loudly, much to the delight of the group.

“Shove off, McLaggen.” Ron grumbled as he turned to his sister. “What do you want Gin?” He asked unhappily.

Ginny had met him now, still hovering on her broom as she spoke. Hari slowed her role, remaining several feet behind the talking pair.

“Why are you hanging out with this lot?” Ginny hissed at her brother. “Shoebuckle and his mates are right creeps.”

Hari glanced nervously at the group, who thankfully seemed to busy laughing at their own jokes to overhear.

“We’re just playing some quidditch.” Ron huffed. “Leave off, will you? No wonder people think you’re mum, you bloody act like her all the time.”

“Sorry if I don’t want my brother hanging out with a bunch of dickhe*ds.” Ginny spat back angrily.

Ron opened his mouth to snap back, but was cut off by heckling from behind him.

“Getting last minute quidditch tips from girls are we, Weasley?” One of the boys Hari didn’t know jeered, Hari felt her grip on her broom get deathly tight.

“Better he get tips from two girls who actually made the teams, rather than a bunch of rejects and one reserve, don’t you think?” Hari replied with a scowl.

“Oh please!” William Shoebuckle piped up, “Your broom does all the work for you, you could give a troll a Firebolt and it’d make a good seeker.”

Hari glared at the boy, nearly shaky with anger.

“Fine.” She snapped, lowering her broom so she could easily leap to the ground, she took it hand and stormed past Ron and Ginny to the other boy. “If the broom does all the work, you do it.” Hari thrust her broom to his chest as she glared at Shoebuckle, who gaped stupidly. “Go on.” She prompted. “Take it, we’ll get a practice snitch and you can show everyone how easy it is.”

“It’s-I.” The boy sputtered as his cheeks grew red and blotchy with embarrassment. “Obviously it’s not that simply, the broom will – it’s attuned to you now- It wouldn’t work for me-“

“Really?” Hari interrupted. “Because when my Nimbus was broken last year, I managed fine on a borrowed broom for the second half of the season.” She sneered, feeling victorious when the boy only stuttered in response.

“Oh bore off will you, Potter?” One of the other boys butted in. “No one invited you, take ginger minger and leave us alone.”

“Oi!” Ron and Ginny both shouted, reminding Hari of their presence behind her.

“Don’t call my sister that!” Ron continued, stomping up to the fair-haired boy who’d spoke. “Apologies to her now.” He demanded.

The other boy just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Weasley.” He dismissed, “You can stay here and hang out with your little sister since you love her so much. I’m bored, let’s go somewhere else.” And just like that the group of boys were turning away, as if Ron hadn’t spoken at all. Shoebuckle was the only one to hesitate.

“C’mon mate, lets go.” He gestured for Ron to follow, glancing nervously between the group of older boys as they walked away, and Ron who stood firmly by Ginny.

“Not bloody likely.” Ron replied with a snort, Shoebuckle only hesitated a moment, before glaring at Hari – as though it was all her fault – and turning to chase after the retreating group. There was a few seconds of awkward silence and then-

“Wow, nice group of friends you have there, Ron.” Ginny chided with a glare, with Ron immediately returned.

“Ram it, Ginny.” He snapped. Hari watched the two awkwardly – she never understood sibling dynamics very well, but she was almost certain that was Ron-Ginny speak for ‘sorry’. Hermione and Luna only just reached them from their seats.

“What happened?” Hermione huffed as she finished her half run to the trio, she glanced between the three of them.

“Nothing.” Ron answered, kicking the grass beneath his shoes. “Shoebuckle and that lot were just being arseholes.”

“Nothing new there.” Ginny snorted, earning another sour look from Ron.

“Yeah well, obviously I’m not gonna hang out with them anymore, am I? So just drop it.” He shrugged embarrassedly.

“Well good.” Hermione nodded, unsure of what transpired but still happy with the outcome. “Lets head inside, it’s freezing and Hari needs an early night tonight.” She decided. Hari snorted.

“Yes, mum.” Hari answered. “Let me just pack up.” She gestured to the abandoned bludgers near the centre of the field, as was tradition, whoever’s idea it was to play had to tidy up after.

“Excellent.” Hermione agreed. “Ron, why don’t you help?” She added lightly, but the stern look in the boy’s direction left no doubt it was more than a ‘suggestion’. Ron opened his mouth to protest but quickly snapped his mouth shut when Ginny also narrowed her gaze. Hari – feelingly entirely too uncomfortable – simply left the conversation to tidy up, hopefully if she got it done quickly, she wouldn’t have to be alone with Ron for long.

She hadn’t made much progress when he joined her. They worked silently and quickly to collect the bludgers and pack them in their case, Hari used her wand to summon the bat Ginny had been using as Ron picked up the chest and began lugging it to the equipment shed. They walked in strained silence. Hari grabbed her satchel from the hook on the shed door once they were finished, slinging it over her shoulder before they left to catch up with the others.

“Why are you wearing that?” Ron demanded so suddenly, Hari couldn’t help but jump, she glanced down to wear he was pointing. It was the ‘Potter Stinks’ badge she kept pinned to her bag, Hari had forgotten it was there, but found herself smiling. She looked up to Ron and smiled with a shrug.

“It’s funny.” She answered simply. Ron stared at her like she was insane, which wasn’t entirely unfair.

“You shouldn’t wear something so stupid.” He scolded, still glaring at the offending badge. Hari felt her hackles rise, a sudden surge of defensiveness rising in her puffed chest.

“Since when do you care?” She demanded angrily, Ron jumped at the outburst, cheeks flushing.

“Of course I care!” He shouted back, his face blotchy with colour. “You’re the one that doesn’t care!”

Hari stared open mouth at the boy, thoroughly confused.

“What?” She asked dumbly. Ron was reaching all new records of redness as he stubbornly looked at anything but Hari.

“Don’t act stupid.” He scowled just past her shoulder. “I know you think I am but I’m not. I know you don’t like me anymore, think you’re too good. Whispering about stuff with Hermione.”

Hari stared at Ron. He specifically didn’t stare back.

“What?” Hari asked again, with emphasise. Ron huffed in annoyance and actually did look at her this time.

“You think I’m too stupid for whatever you and Hermione always talk about without me, talking all secretive-like. Whatever, I don’t care – but don’t say I don’t care.” He stated.

“You don’t care… but I can’t say you don’t?” Hari asked slowly. Ron flushed again.

“That’s not-“ He groaned as he rubbed his face then pulled at his hair. “You’re not listening.”

“I- we don’t think you’re stupid.” Hari said aloud as her mind worked backwards over what Ron had said. Ron snorted as if she’d said a funny joke. “No- hey.” Hari stepped forward. “We don’t. I don’t.”

“Yeah right.” He dismissed. “You thought I’d be too stupid not to tell everyone about Remus and – Padfoot – but you told Hermione.” The and look how that turned out went unspoken. “And now you won’t tell me how you got your name in the goblet, and I know something happened before third year, with that dog. You and Hermione always share looks whenever anyone mentions it.”

Hari felt her stomach churn at the mention of that summer. Had they really been that obvious? Ron had noticed, and she hadn’t even noticed Ron noticing. Maybe he was right, maybe she was treating him like he was stupid. But he wasn’t, Hari new he wasn’t. It wasn’t about that.

“I-“ Hari frowned as she tried to put the words together, her grasp tight on her bag strap. “I’m sorry.” Was all she managed. Ron shrugged as he continued to avoid her gaze.

“S’alright. You don’t have to be sorry, just cus you don’t want to be friends anymore.” He told her defeatedly.

“No!” Hari burst. “What? Don’t be-“ She huffed and threw her arms in frustration. “You’re my best mate.” She told him- Ron opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off. “You and Hermione. It’s always been us three. I-“ Hari huffed. “I haven’t told you some things- I- it wasn’t because I think you’re stupid. I was worried you would – I didn’t want you to not like me anymore.” Hari admitted, pulling her flailing arms down close to her torso, her gaze falling.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Ron asked, thoroughly confused. “Because of the tournament? I was just miffed you didn’t tell me.”

Hari shook her head, the tightness in her chest was back tenfold. She couldn’t say it.

“Not that.” She answered. “About-“ Her voice chocked.

“Hari?” Ron was gentler now, his hand came up in an aborted motion before he dropped it again.

“The summer- with the dog.” Hari began.

“It was Padfoot, right?” Ron added, Hari nodded.

“It wasn’t- something happened, before and –“

And Hari told him, in jilted broken sentences, as brief as she could. Her chest grew tighter as she spoke, when she’d finished, she was certain she couldn’t breathe. She felt the world narrowing down and the edges go dark, she held her sides tight enough to leave crescent bruises from her nails. She was sobbing she realised. Somehow enough air was in her lungs to let out those awful little sounds.

Then she was on the ground, she was hunched on her feet, crouched and unbalanced. She didn’t fall on her arse like she should though, because Ron was holding onto her. His arms were wrapped tight around her shoulders, his trousers had grass stains on his knees from where’d fallen to catch her.

“I’m sorry.” He was saying. Was he crying too? “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

You’re not an idiot. Hari wanted to say. You’re just a boy. But words hadn’t found her again yet.

But breathing had, she felt her chest swell with air and then deflate with ease. The tightness was gone, replaced with the embrace of her friend.

Hari grabbed him.

“I missed you.” She let out, her voice still a bit shaky. Ron breathed out a laugh.

“Me too.” He answered.

They eventually let go, both sitting back onto the grass. In the quiet evening Hari told Ron everything. Hari explained her conversations with Remus in third year, the changes to Dudley’s memory by Dumbledore. Hari explained the previous summer, the fun she had. Hari told him about her phone, the Fawn box and Mary. She explained how Mary was trying to get custody, and Sirius was going to get his name cleared.

Hari told him everything. Except Malfoy. Malfoy wasn’t like her other secrets, where she had wished desperately for Ron to know, where she felt only relief when he did. She only felt a little guilty. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t let her brain make space to think about it, not then.

Ron believed her this time, when she told him she hadn’t put her name in the goblet, and that was the sweetest feeling, to be believed. Ron didn’t blame her, he didn’t hate her, he was her friend. She felt so silly for doubting it.

Hermione lingered at the bottom of the path back to the castle, she’d sent the other girls ahead as she waited for Hari and Ron. She’d worried at first, that the two would break out into another fight, but when she’d turned back to see them both sat on the grass just talking, she knew they would be alright. She always new they would work it out, of course. But they were both so stubborn, it had gone on far longer than it should have. But Hermione knew her friends, and they’d just needed time and space, Ron and Hari always worked best on their own. With Hermione’s encouragement, of course.

When the other two finally finished their long conversation and began making their way back to the castle, Hermione was sat on the cold grass with some charms homework. They found her deep in her reading when they reached her.

“Right there Mione?” Hari interrupted the other girl, who held up a finger, Ron and Hari shared an amused look as Hermione finished her paragraph. The book gently snapped shut and Hermione looked up to them both.

“Excellent. Thank you.” She answered honestly, then looked between them both, they were both a bit teary, not from anger. “Are we all okay?” She prodded gently.

Hari grinned.

“Yeah, I reckon so.” Ron answered sheepishly. Hermione’s smile widened.

“Well, let’s head back then. Hari still needs her early night.”

Hermione packed her back and stood, and the trio made there way back to the castle, together, as they were meant to.

Hari didn’t have the late night Hermione had promised, instead she stayed up far too late in the common room. Hermione tittering quietly the entire time, whilst still joining in on the several rounds of exploding snap with Hari and Ron. Despite that, Hari still slept better than she had in a while, finding sleep quickly after her head hit her pillow, and staying pleasantly under until Hermione’s alarm.

Hari rose from sleep and straightaway went to set up her broom by an open window, as planned for today. Gryffindor tower was conveniently close to the arena, and within good accio-distance. With a yawn Hari clambered from bed to her bag, digging for her shrunken broom –

It wasn’t there.

Ever since she learnt the spell, after practice Hari would shrink her broom and put it in her bag.

Hari immediately began retracing her steps, after practice she tidied up with Ron, she put the broom down by the shed and- and she got distracted and

“sh*t.” Hari hissed.

“Hari!” Hermione scolded from where she sat on her bed, gently untangling her hair.

“Have you seen my broom?” Hari asked, grabbing her cloak and checking the pockets. “I think I left it at the pitch yesterday.” Hari grabbed her wand and cast a quick accio, nothing in the room budged, even after her second and then third attempt.

“Your broom?” Hermione’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh Hari- how could you be so careless?”

“Not helping!” Hari snapped as she pulled on her shoes and through on her cloak over her pajamas. “I’m going to check the pitch!”

Hari sprinted through the halls and out to the equipment shed in record time, her trainers slipping on the dewey grass as she skidded to a halt and threw the door open. To her dismay she was met with only the standard school brooms, no firebolt in sight. She tried accio again a few times, but there was no sign of her broom. Hari slammed the wooden door closed, grabbing at her hair in frustration before letting out a yell as she stomped back to the castle. How could she be so stupid so careless? Never mind that she’d lost her most prized possession, a gift from Sirius, but she’d lost it the one day this entire school year that she needed it.

She was a dead woman walking.

Hermione and Ron met Hari near the entrance hall, both looking anxious.

“We’ve looked everywhere in the tower.” Hermione told her, “I don’t suppose you found it?”

Hari shook her head.

“Maybe Filch has it?” Ron suggested. “There’s a lost and found, surely?”

“Yes! Good idea Ron, let’s check.” Hermione quickly latched to the idea and the three headed to Filch’s office, to no avail.

Ginny and Luna didn’t know either, nor did Madam Hooch or Hagrid.

Hari was fully panicked by the time they made it to a very late breakfast.

“You can use my broom.” Ginny suggested.

“I’m not familiar enough with it.” Hari tried not to snap at the younger girl, but Hari was really quite on edge, given she had to face a dragon in less than three hours and had no plan whatsoever.

“What about Diggory?” Ron asked. “You borrowed his last year?”

“No, he got a new one over the summer.” Ginny shook her head.

Hari drifted out of the conversation, fully swallowed up in thoughts of her impending doom. There had to be something she could do instead, summoning a broom was out of the question, given the only one she could use was no longer an option. Was there something else? Perhaps she could summon something else, maybe a distraction? Hari pushed her sausages around her plate, maybe she could someone a plate of bacon? Or maybe a sack of gold? Like there’d be anything like that laying around for her to-

“I have an idea.” Hari blurted suddenly, interrupting whatever idea Hermione, Ron and Ginny were discussing. “I need you to make sure the quidditch shed is open during the task.”

“But you can’t use those brooms, can you?” Hermione asked cautiously, Hari grinned.

“Don’t need the brooms.”

Hari’s stomach churned with anxiety, she shuffled in her seat, tapping her wand mindlessly against her knee. She could hear the sound of cheering as she was sure Krum succeeded in getting his golden egg, it was just Hari in the champions tent now, the last to go on. Hari wondered how the others had faired, there had been some gasp and commotion from the audience, but nothing too shocking, she hoped that meant that no one had been injured too badly. Unwillingly, Hari remembered the picture Ron had shown her of Charlie once. Images of the long scar across his nose, that circle of burns up his right arm, enveloping his skin and wrinkling it, the skin had looked tight and smooth. She shivered at the memory, grasping her own arm.

It would be fine, she’d be fine.

“Miss Potter, you’re up!” Mr Crouch called into the tent and Hari felt her limbs tense. She let out a shaky breath as she dragged herself to her feet and followed the older man. To say her reception was mixed would be an understatement. The crowd was a cruel mix of cheers and boos as she walked out into the rocky arena, she tried not to flinch and keep her head up as she stood her ground. It was easy to forget the audience surrounding her when she stood before a dragon.

“Hello.” Hari said stupidly, then she quickly found herself running at full pelt away from a spew of fire thrown her way.

She dove behind a boulder and huddled her limbs in and away from the flames, taking just a moment to draw her wand and pointing it in the direction of the quidditch pitch.

Hari took a deep breath before bursting the spell out.

“ACCIO SNITCH!” She cried out,

Hari heard the heavy thundering of the dragon giving up on the fire and charging in Hari’s direction. But quickly the faint woosh of air grew louder and a golden snitch hit Hari in her palm, not any golden snitch, the same one Hari had caught nearly every match for three years, the one she had swallowed in first year.

Hari threw the ball of gold into the air, activating it as it flew in an arch over the boulder and past the dragon. Then, Hari cast her second spell, and the riskiest part of her plan.

“Geminio!”

There was a terrifying pause before the little fleck of gold began to shudder in the air and then pop. A second, albeit misshapen, snitch appeared. Pop. And another. Pop pop pop. And several more and it continued until there was a swarm of golden snitches filled the arena.

They were uneven in size and clumsy, reminding Hari so much of the room of keys she’d once found in first year, but they were small and golden and fast, and that’s all she needed. The scatter of gold caught the dragon’s attention quickly, like a large flammable child chasing butterflies, the dragon was drawn away from Hari and her half smelted hiding place.

Hari peaked from behind her rock to see the dragon snapping its jaw in the air around it, with a quick huff of relief, Hari tumbled out and ran low to the ground, trying desperately not to draw attention as she made her way to the nest. As Hari got closer, she whispered commands for the snitch’s to move further away, luring the dragon from her nest slowly and carefully. Hari imagined it didn’t make for an entertaining view, but she really couldn’t care less about it. She was halfway to the eggs when she considered briefly whether she would be able to summon the golden egg, it would be heavy and might jostle the remaining eggs, but it might be worth the risk if it meant she could get out sooner.

Hari hunkered down low, glancing at the dragon – still distracted – as she readied her wand to summon her target to her.

She whispered the summoning, and the egg wobbled before lifting into the air and flying towards her – flying fast, oh it wasn’t nearly as heavy as she’d thought, and she’d overestimated the power she’d need to lift the damn thing. Hari dove out the way as the egg slammed into the wall she’d been leant against, quickly drawing the dragon’s attention back to her. It let out a bone shaking roar as it snapped then leapt to jump directly onto Hari and the stolen egg.

“f*ck.” Hari hissed as she rolled over and grabbed the egg and scrambled to the exit of the arena before the talons could catch her. Whilst she missed the initial strike, the tail of the dragon spun round and whipped Hari across her shoulder blades, causing her to stumble forward, but she didn’t fall as she ran as fast as her short legs could carry her. She was past the wards when the wall of flame finally caught up, slamming into the wall of magic as Hari collapsed into the inner walls of the arena.

"Harriet Potter has retrieved her egg!" An announcement called, Hari couldn't hear the cheers of the crowd over the blood still roaring in her ears.

Chapter 26: Now through all this sorrow we'll be riding high

Chapter Text

When Mary had tried to attend the first task as Hari’s family, she wasn’t surprised by the no. She fully intended on going anyway, though the details weren’t clear to her yet. What did surprise her is Regulus Black’s invitation to accompany him.

She had fully intended on guilting Professor McGonagall, but this was much simpler. It did mean sitting next to Regulus Black though.

Mary didn’t have a problem with him, per say, in fact, she had come to appreciate him no small amount. He was funding her custody case after all. And he was doing far more than she’d expect from the pureblood – former deatheather – in getting Hari safe. Mary was beginning to understand why, after their last conversation, it seemed guilt was he fuel behind many of the young man’s decisions.

Mary knew that feeling better than most.

But these were not grounds for friendship, trauma bonding was an unpleasant thing that brought forward memories that Mary would rather not relive.

Thus, the awkwardness.

The fact Regulus clearly felt just as uncomfortable only made him more relatable. Which was annoying.

Mary wasn’t able to see Hari before the task, so she was sat in the audience twisting anxiously as each champion faced off against…. A dragon.

Mary felt her face drain and her mouth go dry; she didn’t realise she was holding Regulus’s thigh until he hissed in pain. She pulled it away quickly, but her tension wasn’t even close to subsiding.

“She has a plan, Mary. She’ll be fine.” The man soothed through gritted teeth. Mary scoffed, what plan could Hari possibly have? She was a child this was a dragon.

“We have to stop it.” Mary hissed, glaring at Regulus, as though he were the one who put her there.

“We can’t.” Regulus reminded her. “There are measures in place.” He assured, pointing to a shimmering ward around the centre. “If the champions are unable to get away, the wards collapse and stun the dragon, I watched them test it myself.”

Mary eyed the magic warily, unconvinced, she found her wand in her pocket and held it tightly.

Then the first student came out. Cedric Diggory, Hari had mentioned the boy once or twice, and Mary could see why. He was tall for his age and undoubtedly very handsome, according to Hari he was very sweet, she stored that information for later and watched as he attempted to transfigure a boulder into a dog.

It was a rather horrific attempt at transfiguration, but seemed to be enough to ensure the Hufflepuff boy was alive and well, a golden egg clutched in his arms and a terrified grin across his face. Mary was nearly deafened by the shouts of “My boy! That’s my boy!” behind, presumably coming from the boy’s father.

The French girl was next, a slightly more graceful sleeping charm made sure the nest and dragon remained unharmed, though she was quickly whisked to the hospital wing for burns. Mary flinched and her stomach twisted but the flicker of the wards reassured her, they hadn’t been needed yet, but they were active.

Krum – the quidditch player – was next, a conjunctivitis curse left the dragon thrashing – leaving half its nest destroyed but the boy unharmed.

Then Hari came out.

Mary stood and cheered as loud as she could, but Hari didn’t seem to notice her at all. So far away and so small compared to the others, her green eyes never left the dragon. Mary couldn’t retake her seat, despite the grumbling of the audience behind her, that was her goddaughter dammit, she couldn’t just sit down right now. She screamed when the ball of fire was shot Hari’s way, only for Hari to dodge and find cover behind a rock.

She could only watch the dragon blast more fire, Mary panicked as she grabbed Regulus’s shoulder in a vice like grip. The wards shivered. The fire kept going.

There was a break in flames but Hari didn’t move, there was only the shout of a spell and then the dragon was charging.

“NO!” Mary screamed again, Regulus now encasing her hand with his own. Then there was a flash and a crack as something forced its way through the wards and landed in Hari’s outstretched hand. Then it was thrown back out, Hari cast another spell and there was the sound of – fire crackers? Or bubble wrap but so much louder. As dozens of – snitches? – flew around the arena. Soon the dragon stopped its charge and began snapping it’s jaw around thin air as it tried to catch the speedy balls of gold. And that’s when Hari made her move, the golden egg flew through the air, attracting the audiences – and the dragon’s – attention.

Mary didn’t breathe for the next eight seconds.

Hari made it.

“She did it.” Mary gasped, her knees jelly underneath her as she collapsed into her chair. “She’s okay.”

She felt the shoulder in her grasp loosen with a sigh of relief.

“She is.” Regulus replied.

Moments later the champions were all brought out – in varying states of haggardness – Fleur the French girl was doing well, though bandaged rather thoroughly. Krum seemed no worse for wear. Cedric only looked somewhat traumatised. And Hari. Hari was beaming, her long pigtails hung in front of her, one significantly shorter than the other and charred at the end. She was covered in dust and ash, scratched, and scorched, but positively delighted.

Hari had never looked more like her father. Mary said as much aloud.

Regulus didn’t seem to hear her at all.

When the scores were announced by each headmaster, there was a grumble of malcontent at the Dumstrang score for Hari, punctuated by loud ranting from one Ronald Weasley. But ultimately the scores left Hari in first place, followed by Fleur – for not causing harm to the nest or dragon. Then Cedric – who apparently had left his dragon with a terrible stomach ache, and Krum in last for giving the dragon pink eye, leaving much of its nest destroyed.

Mary thought that was a little unfair, did they really expect them to not harm the dragon? It seemed to her if they wanted the dragons not to be hurt, they shouldn’t sic them on wizards.

But it didn’t really matter to her because Hari was safe, she was alive.

As soon as the audience were dismissed, Regulus led Mary to the champion’s tent, not even waiting for her to ask. Unfortunately, they still arrived after the journalists, and so had to wait for interviews to be over before they could enter. Mary called the Hogsmeade phone box from her mobile whilst they waited, Remus answered after a single ring.

“Mary?” He demanded immediately.

“She’s okay.” Mary told him quickly, wasting no time. His sigh of relief echoed down the line, there was a small whine of a dog.

“She’s fine Padfoot, she’s okay.”

Mary smiled, then relayed the task to them.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.” Remus said after. “Hari is a very impressive witch for her age, I knew she’d do well.” His voice was thick with pride, as was the bark that followed.

Regulus poked his head out of the tent then and gestured for Mary to follow him.

“Oh Remus – I’m just going in to see her now, I’ll speak to you soon, okay?”

Regulus led Mary past a waiting area and three beds filled with other champions being fussed over by families, then to Hari on the fourth. She sat with her legs swinging and a scorched pigtail in her hands, her nose scrunched in concentration, using her wand to cut away the burnt hair.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the winner of the first task.” Mary teased to get her attention, Hari immediately snapped her gaze up, her contemplative frown breaking into a grin.

“Mary!” Hari beamed, leaping of her bed to throw herself into a hug with the woman. Mary grasped onto her as tight as she could. “You came.” Hari’s voice was filled with wonder, as if Mary had done something incredible, like surviving a dragon.

“Of course, I did.” Mary squeezed her tighter once more before pulling back, holding Hari by her arms. “I’m so proud of you.”

Hari’s blush was obvious even through her dark complexion.

“Ron and ‘Mione helped.” Hari told her with a smile. “It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”

Mary smiled. “Very cool.”

Hari then dove into the story of why she ended up summoning a snitch, of the plan to use her broom, its disappearance. Her recent practice with the duplication charm, how she’d read the hobbit when she was little and so she knew dragon’s liked gold. Mary listened intently as Hari chattered excitedly, seemingly completely unphased by her recent very near-death experience.

Regulus had disappeared quickly, going completely unnoticed by Hari, who was too caught up in seeing Mary to spare a glance to her surroundings.

“But it was all Hermione really.” Hari concluded, quick to give her friend credit. “Wait.” Hari’s eyes lit up. “Can you meet them? My friends?”

“Of course I can, I was thinking we could go to lunch in Hogsmeade if you like, perhaps they could come with us?” Mary offered, and Hari looked like it was Christmas come early. Mary had gotten permission from McGonagall to take Hari already; it was a weekend after all. “They will have to get permission though.” Hari nodded excitedly and was quick to jump to her feet and into action, Mary smiled after her, then went searching for McGonagall.

Hari tumbled out of the tent and into the crowds, Ron and Hermione were easy to find – given they were already trying to sneak in to find her. Soon Hari was dragging them along back to find Mary with her head of house.

“Mary!” Hari called, dragging a windswept Ron and Hermione with her. Mary and the Professor both turned to greet the three of them. “Professor!” Hari cheered before turning back to her godmother.

“Mary, this is Hermione and Ron – my best friends!” Hari grinned as she presented to pair to Mary for her approval. The woman blinked a moment then turned to them both to smile.

“Hi, I’m Mary Williams, Hari’s godmother.” She greeted them warmly. “Hari’s told me a lot about you both.” Hari felt her cheeks warm again. “I was just asking Professor McGonagall for permission to bring you to Hogsmeade with us, if you’d both like to?” She offered kindly.

Ron agreed quickly, whilst Hermione looked to their professor first, once the elderly woman gave her nod of approval, Hermione very politely accepted.

“Curfew is at 6pm for fourth years Mrs Williams, as I’m sure you remember.” McGonagall warned playfully, to which Mary gave a very serious. Of course, Professor McGonagall.

Hari practically vibrated with excitement as the four of them walked down to the small town. A combination of leftover adrenaline from the task, the excitement of getting to see Mary, and for Ron and Hermione to finally get to meet her godmother. It left Hari completely overwhelmed in the best of ways.

It only got better when they finally reached the town, Hari was telling Mary about hers and Ron’s mishaps with Mr Weasley’s car when Hermione called out –

“Is that Professor Lupin?”

And sure enough, there Moony stood outside the Three Broomsticks, with Padfoot sat at his side. Padfoot barked an excited woof before galloping over, Hari ran to meet him eagerly with a tightest of hugs around his doggy shoulders.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Hari beamed as she scratched Padfoot’s head two handed, just how he liked. She shot a questioning look to Mary. “Did you know? Does McGonagall know?”

Mary smiled happily.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy in place.” Mary answered conspiratorially. Hermione gasped in horror, whilst Ron stared in admiration at his new favourite adult. Remus snorted; Hari turned back to him.

“I thought you were traveling?” Hari asked. “You won’t get in trouble for being here?” She added, suddenly reminded of the last time she saw Sirius and Remus. Remus smiled in that sad way hid did, like he knew what Hari was thinking.

“No, no traveling for a while now, and no one’s getting in any trouble, so long as Pads behaves himself.” Remus gave a playful tug to Padfoot’s ear as he spoke, the animagi gave his hand a wet lick in return, Remus turned his nose up and wipe the slobber on his jacket. Then continued. “Shall we grab you some lunch then, Hari? Mary tells me you slew a dragon today?”

If someone had told Hari yesterday, that the day of the first task would be the best day of her life, she would have considered them deeply deluded, unless it was Luna Lovegood, who was prone to saying outrageous and improbable things. But as Hari sat with her two best friends, Padfoot at her side with his head resting in her lap, eating lunch and laughing with Remus and Mary, Hari couldn’t describe the day as anything less than.

After lunch they went for a walk around town in the crisp autumn air, they ended up near the Hogsmeade green, where Hari, Ron and Hermione threw sticks for Padfoot whilst Mary and Remus watched on.

All too soon it was time to go, and Hari launched a tight hug onto a surprised Remus.

“Thanks for coming, Moony.” Hari had said into his jumper, and he patted the top of her head awkwardly in response. Padfoot interrupted with a jealous bark and the nuzzle of his nose, Hari pulled away to lavish attention onto her needy godfather, before walking back up to the school with Mary and her friends.

Remus and Padfoot stayed behind, only once Hari had disappeared up the path, did they turn make their way back into town, and into the Hog’s Head.

Padfoot winged as he was corralled into the smelly pub by his very cruel Moony, who only shot him a very unsympathetic glance in response, before continuing the march to the room they’d had booked upstairs. Padfoot let out another sulky sound that went completely ignored as they reached the door, and a familiar sent was added to the aroma of beer and old men. Moony only opened the door and greeted Regulus with a smile, like a traitor.

Regulus turned to Padfoot with an unimpressed curl to his mouth, he looked like Walburga when he did that, Padfoot thought smugly.

“Why did you bring the dog?” Regulus asked Moony, clearly annoyed. Padfoot didn’t like when people were annoyed with him, but Sirius delighted in irritating his little brother.

“He’s needy.” Moony answered, Padfoot and Sirius both disliked that.

“Well, this room is warded, and it would be beneficial to actually have his input,” Regulus looked very pained to admit it, “Can he turn back?”

“He can understand you, don’t ask me.” Moony shrugged, before taking a seat at the corner table of the room, Padfoot fought off the urge to follow after his pack mate, to sit at his flank. Instead Padfoot stayed where he was and watched Regulus, who watched him in return.

“Don’t be childish, Sirius.” Regulus scolded. “We need to talk about Hari.”

Padfoot couldn’t help but shake his tail at the mention of the pup, his ears perked immediately, as if she might come back. Regulus rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes, Hari, we’re going to talk about Hari. Will you please be a human for a moment so we can converse?” Regulus asked with an exasperated sigh, whilst Moony snorted a laugh in the corner.

Padfoot gave in then, but only because he wanted to. Sirius wrapped his fur coat tighter around his middle as he stood – an inch taller than Regulus, he noted with a smug grin – then sauntered over to sit opposite Remus.

“You have a bit of stick in your teeth.” Regulus commented, before grabbing the third and final chair to sit. Sirius quickly scrubbed at his front teeth and dislodged the splinter, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“So, I’ll update you on what Mary’s shared with me on the legal front,” Regulus started, Sirius narrowed his eyes, but kept quiet. Since when did Reg call Mary by her first name? And why would he know more about her case then him or Remus? “Mr Penflitch has gathered all the statements and evidence he thinks he needs, and plans on submitting it to the courts on Monday. He believes that the excitement of the first trial will help it go unnoticed by any press. He’s been in contact with Petunia Dursley, and she’s made no contest, and seems happy to hand custody over. Our only real concern is if they try and make Hari a ward of the ministry.”

“Do they have any reason to do that?” Remus asked before Sirius could.

“Hari is the most famous person wizarding Britain right now, being her guardian would be a very politically strong position.” Regulus answered with a casual shrug, immediately grating Sirius’s nerves. “She’s also in possession of the largest family estate outside of the sacred 28.”

“She’s a kid! Not a bloody chess piece.” He snapped, Regulus sighed impatiently back.

“I’m well aware, I’m just informing you what others may think.” He gritted back, “We need to consider the possibility that Mary will be contested.”

“Is there anyone that would have any right to custody?” Remus questioned.

“Sirius and Mary are the only two people Lily or James listed in their wills, Sirius is a wanted criminal and therefor not an option.” Regulus ignored the irritated grumbles from Sirius. “Petunia Dursley is the only blood relative, and she’s surrendering guardianship. That leaves Dumbledore, as headmaster he is Hari’s acting guardian in wizarding affairs.”

“I don’t see Dumbledore taking Hari home in the summers, do you?” Sirius snarked.

“No, he wouldn’t. I imagine he would either send her back to the Dursley’s, or he would offload her onto the Weasley’s.” Regulus speculated.

“Surely he couldn’t send her back to Petunia?” Remus demanded, sharing a quick look of panic with Sirius.

“There aren’t any criminal charges being brought against her family, so there isn’t a way to stop him sending her to them.” Regulus answered.

“Then we need to do that, right?” Sirius pushed, leaning forward in his seat, eager for the idea of Vernon and Petunia sat in Azkaban, did they send muggles to Azkaban?

“That’s up to Hari.” Remus cut in, “And I think we should leave that as a last resort, one we won’t need if we make sure Dumbledore doesn’t try anything.”

“Or I can kill them.” Sirius offered, “I’m wanted for murder anyway, may as well earn it.”

“That’s another thing we need to discuss.” Regulus refocused on Sirius, neatly sidestepping of offers of homicide. “Clearing your name needs to be a priority, Penflitch has already hinted at his suspicion of your involvement, and if Mary is investigated as he suspects she will…”

“We’ve been careful.” Sirius argued, “I’d be back in prison if we weren’t.”

“You’ve been careful enough to not be caught, but suspicion can be enough to hurt Mary’s case. Finding the Rat needs to be your priority.” Regulus’s tone was downright scolding now, and Sirius didn’t care for it one bit.

“What do you think we’ve been doing?” Sirius bit, “We’ve spent the last two months looking for him.”

“Well you need to look harder.” Regulus snapped. “What’s the use of your animagus if you cant track a scent?”

“You try searching the entirety of Britain for a f*cking rat!” Sirius argued.

“What about you?” Regulus turned his disapproving gaze to Remus. “Surely on a full moon you can track better than a dog?”

“It’s one night a month, Reg.” Sirius snapped defensively, “And we can’t exactly let him loose in Diagon to see what he finds.”

“Thanks for that, Pads.” Remus bristled, shooting Sirius a cold look. “He’s right, the wolf is difficult to control, especially if it encounters human scents. But then…” Remus considered for a moment. “Do you think you could get me some more wolfsbane?”

“You think that would help?” Sirius asked cautiously,

Remus shrugged. “My senses aren’t as sharp on the potion, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Though we’d have to scout an area before I went as Moony, to make sure it was safe.”

“I can get you a potion, and I’ll brew up some more for next time if it proves useful.” Regulus nodded, “When is the next moon?”

“Eighteen days.” Sirius answered quickly, satisfied by the look of surprise it caused Regulus.

“We actually have a few sights we wanted to investigate.” Remus added, “A few places related to Tom Riddle.“ He lowered his voice for the last two words, even knowing they couldn’t be overheard.

“You found information?” Regulus gave an uncharacteristic frown, glancing from his brother back to the werewolf, as if checking he’d misheard. “How?”

“You only checked wizarding records.” Remus shrugged. “Hari said he was half-blood, so I… liberated some census data.” Sirius snorted, remembering the many light violations to the statue of secrecy he’d watched Moony make during said ‘liberation’.

“What did you find?” Regulus pressed, ignoring Sirius.

“Tom Riddle, his father was a Lord Thomas Riddle, his mother Mary Riddle, all three died in 1943.” Remus recited.

“I know this already, told you this, they were murdered by Morfin Gaunt. He died in Azkaban in the 70s, shortly before all ministry files about him went missing.” Regulus pointed out, annoyed.

“What you didn’t know is that the muggles reported it as a home invasion – burglary gone wrong. They were killed in their estate, a big f*ck off mansion in Little Hangleton.” Remus declared with a proud smile, the kind Sirus hadn’t seen since their Newts, when Moony had wiped the floor with them during exams, armed with nothing but a cigarette, chocolate, and 2 hours sleep.

There was a long pause. Sirius enjoyed watching his brother frown, open his mouth, then quickly close it again. Over ten years his little brother had had to find anything about Voldemort, whilst he had impressively found a name, he had been able to do nothing with it. Turning up with only dead ends about equally dead people. Whilst his Moony, the genius he was, had taken less than a month to find three names and an address.

“You have the address?” Regulus asked once he finally recovered his ability to speak.

“That we do, little brother.” Sirius said with a grin, so happy to be on Moony’s team again, to get to use the word ‘we’ so casually, as though it meant nothing. It was everything. “We’re gonna see where baby Voldemort grew up.”

Chapter 27: You're a part time lover and a full time friend

Chapter Text

“Monday?” Hari asked, disbelieving. Mary’s smile became hesitant, faltering ever so slightly.

“Yes, is that okay?” Mary asked, and Hari shook her head.

“I mean- of course it is!” Hari burst, her fists clenching at her side to resist the urge to launch herself at the woman. They were outside McGonagall’s office, where Mary would be flooing home. Ron and Hermione had already gone ahead back to the common room, giving Hari and her godmother a moment to say goodbye. Hari hadn’t expected Mary to tell her that, come Monday, she’d be free of the Dursleys. “So, after Monday, I can- I don’t have to go back to them?” She nearly whispered. Mary’s smile returned, though much softer.

“You’ll never see them again Hari, not if you don’t want to.” Mary assured her, and Hari couldn’t resist anymore, she launched herself at the woman, squeezing her as tight as she could. “Thank you.” She muffled into her blouse. Mary breathed out a laugh and soon Hari felt her hand, soft on her hair.

“Of course, sweetheart.” She soothed, and Hari was working very hard not to cry. She pulled away eventually with a sniffle.

“So, will you be my guardian then?” She asked, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. Mary hesitated again.

“It will be in the works.” She assured quickly. “The ministry will need to run some checks first, it might take a bit longer than we’d like.”

“How long?” Hari asked, not liking the frown taking over Mary’s brow.

“Before summer, that’s certain.” Mary answered, “But, I’m afraid you may have to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas.” She looked crestfallen as she finished, guiltily watching Hari’s reaction.

“Oh.” Hari said, surprised. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of spending Christmas anywhere other than Hogwarts. Did that mean Mary was hoping that Hari would spend Christmas with her? That Mary wanted Hari at her home, with her family, with her children? Hari new Mary cared about her, that she wanted to make sure Hari was safe. Mary had loved her parents, so of course she wouldn’t want their child to be treated the way Petunia and Vernon had treated her.

Hari had never, not in her wildest dreams, thought that this would mean she would be welcome in Mary’s home like that. Not during Christmas, of all things.

Mary must have mistaken Hari’s tears for disappointed, because she was instantly on her, with gentle strokes on her arm and pats on her cheek. Reassurances and apologies spilling from her lips, as if she hadn’t just done something so kind, so wonderfully, wonderfully kind.

“Hari, I’m so sorry, but we’ll have next year, I promise.” Mary was muttering, looking so sad. Hari shook her head, finally coming back from her thoughts.

“No- it’s-” Hari smiled, joy swelling her chest, close to bursting. “I didn’t think- champions need to be at Hogwarts this Christmas, they announced it yesterday, their having a Yule ball Christmas eve.” Hari assured. “But- next year, I can really spend it with you? Would that be okay? I don’t want to be in the way, you have your sons-”

“Hari.” Mary interupted, gripping her shoulders firmly. “Of course you can, if that’s what you want, you’re my kid too, we’d all love to have you there.”

“Oh.” Hari said simply. Her tears spilling over now, her chest close to bursting. Mary pulled her into another tight hug, Hari went willing, falling into her arms.

You’re my kid too.

As if it was that easy, like it was something to be taken for granted.

Hari didn’t know what she did to deserve Mary’s love, but it was there, and she had no idea how people normally handled it. Did it feel like this all the time? Is this what her mum’s love would have felt like, if it hadn’t been lost that night, to save Hari?

The only thing she had to compare it to was Molly Weasley, who radiated motherly love like it was nothing, indiscriminate to anyone caught in its path.

This was different. This love wasn’t for just anyone, this love was Hari’s.

Hari thought she would drown in it.

But she didn’t, instead she floated on its surface, warm and surrounded and safe. She felt it even when the hug ended, when Mary said goodbye. Back in the common room, where she received smacks on the back and congratulations from the same people who’d snubbed her in the weeks before. Then in bed that night, as she drifted to sleep, surrounded by the feeling that she was, for the first time since she could remember, completely and unwaveringly, loved unconditionally.

The next morning brought with it a new article from the Prophet, four pages detailing the task from the day before, in Skeeter’s now familiar writing, spending an uncomfortably long description of Viktor Krum’s ‘strong but gentle’ arms. But Hari didn’t pay much attention to Skeeter’s creepy fawning for Cedric’s hair. Her attention was drawn to the bottom corner of the front page, a terrifying box declaring an ‘exclusive look at ‘The Girl Who Lived’s’ love life!’. With a belly full of dread Hari found the article.

“Oh Merlin.” Ron groaned across the table as he found it as well.

It was a picture of Hari and Ron, the day at the quidditch pitch, sat on the grass and hugging. In the picture, Hari had her face buried in his shoulder – thankfully the picture didn’t show the snot and tears she’d left there – whilst Ron was patting her hair with the other arm around her shoulder. It hadn’t felt remotely romantic, Hari had been crying ugly tears, Ron hiccupping and apologising. But looking at it now, a picture taken from afar, in which their red snotty faces couldn’t be seen, it did look a bit... funny.

Hari felt a face get hot all the way up to her roots, one glance at Ron and he was the same, beet red behind his hands.

“I’m fleeing the country.” Hari announced as she stared dead eyed at the paper in front of her. “It was nice knowing you all.”

“Don’t be dramatic Hari.” Hermione scolded, Hari turned an incredulous look her way, words failed her, but the squeek of idignation she let out got her point across well enough. “Okay- it’s bad.” Hermione conceded.

“Bad?” Ron squawked, gesturing wildly at the paper in front of him. “It’s bloody awful!” He whined.

“Wait until you read the anonymous quote.” Ginny chimmed in from Hermione’s other side, pointing agressively at the paper. Sure enough, there was a quote from ‘a friend of the lovebirds’ below the picture.

“It was pretty obvious something was going on.” Hermione read out loud with a scowl, Hari gurgled out a protest but Hermione continued- “He was always following her around until the tournament was announced’. The student, who wished to remain anonymous, went on to suggest that Hari had ended the relationship for quote ‘greener pastures’, leaving the youngest boy of the Weasley family heart broken. Though the above photograph - taken this Friday - may hint at something more complicated.”

“Greener pastures?!” Ron demanded, snatching the paper from Hermione’s grasp to re-read the words. “I was not heartbroken.” Ron spluttered.

“You have been pretty mopey over the last few weeks.” Ginny argued, much to Ron’s chagrin.

“No I haven’t!” He shouted, blushing further when he was only met by doubtful glances. “I have been pissed off. Platonically pissed off.” He corrected with a grumble, sulking into his chair.

George and Fred, agents of Ron’s torment and misery, chose that moment to chime in.

“Ronnie!” Fred cheered, “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!”

“Mum will not be pleased.” George added, a shaking his head with dramatized disappointment.

“Don't you both start!” Ron begged, “You know it’s rubbish.”

“Who even gave that quote?” Hari left Ron to his fate with his brothers, turning to Hermione. But it was Ginny who answered.

“Obviously it was those bloody Hufflepuffs from the other day. I bet they’re the ones that stole your broom too.”

Hari looked back at the photograph, it was taken only a few minutes after their spat with them, her broom was still there, laying in the grass near the equipment shed. She glanced up then, to the Hufflepuff table, Shoebuckle was sat with Zach Smith, smirking at the paper in front of them. Hari felt her eyes narrow, remembering the jabs the boy made about her broom. She began to push away from the table, planning to confront the suspects – it wouldn’t hurt just to ask, she couldn’t get detention for just talking to them. But before she’d fully risen, she was interrupted by the nervous voice of Mr Crouch.

“Could the champions for each school please come to the head table, to receive the clues for your next task.”

A wave of excitement immediately spilled across the busy breakfast hall. Hari hesitated, sparing a glance for her friends, met with shrugs, she made her way to where the beanpole of a man stood.

A short ten minutes later, Hari, Hermione and Ron sat in the common room, staring at a black envelope. Next to it lay its contents – an equally black card of paper, and nothing else.

“There must be something to it.” Hermione frowned.

It was a weekday morning and all three of them had a free period, so it was just the three of them in Gryffindor tower. They’d made a hasty retreat as soon as Hari received her clue, the prophet article quickly forgotten.

“I mean, yeah.” Hari agreed, frowning. “But what?” She remembered some homework Remus helped her with over the summer, something about invisible ink, she thought of the map hidden in her trunk upstairs. She pulled her wand and tried a revillio.

“No, it won’t be that simple.” Hermione concluded, and Ron nodded. His alomahoroa was equally unsuccessful.

“Maybe there’s a password, like the map?” Hermione suggested.

“How are we supposed to know what the password is?” Ron demanded, arms crossed and brow crunched tight in concentration.

Hari didn’t expect whispering open in parsletognue to work, but she tried anyway.

Ron snorted. “Open sesame.” He tried.

“Abracadabra.” Hari added.

“Hocus-pocus.” Hermione concluded with a roll of her eyes.

“What would you have done if that had worked?” Hari asked amused. Hermione snorted.

They spent the rest of the hour trying to figure out the mystery of the card, with no success. Eventually they left for transfiguration, Hermione already making plans for them to spend their precious lunch in the library. Again.

Hari had thought that the tournament would mean she wouldn’t have to spend so much time researching. It was meant to be the one benefit of the whole bloody thing, but she felt she was somehow spending more time in the library then usual. She didn’t know how Hermione could stand it, she still had exams to get ready for at the end of the year, so did Ron. Hari couldn’t help but feel guilty that they had to spend so much time helping her.

Transfiguration had gotten a lot easier for Hari, maybe it was the extra practicing she had been doing with Malfoy, or doing homework with Moony. Sirius had told her that it was in her blood, James was a prodigy, just ask Minnie. He’d said with a wink. She couldn’t wait until next summer, when she was living with Mary and could see Padfoot whenever she liked, maybe he would see how good her marks were and finally teach her to become and anigmagus. Or maybe she’d find the time to try with Malfoy, she’d come back to Potter manor and surprise him.

She wondered again what she’d be. Sirius was certain she’d be a doe, match her dad, and her mum’s patronus. Hari secretly hoped she’d be a dog, or maybe a wolf, maybe then Remus would let her join them on moons.

Malfoy had told her she’d probably be a pigeon.

“Because you’re messy and terribly dim.” She’d sneered, but she’d hesitated after, like she was worried she’d been too mean. Hari had laughed.

“I bet my broom you’ll be a ferret.” Hari had snarked. “All pointy faced and smelly.”

“You’ll be a seagull. Loud and annoying. I’ll have to make you a new badge ‘please do not feed’.” Malfoy and bit back with a smile, something like relief in her eyes, her shoulders looser.

“Why am I always a bird?” Hari demanded.

“Because obviously you’ll be something that flies. You’re a natural in the air.” Malfoy had scoffed with a dismissive flick of her wrist, as if it was obvious. Hari felt her chest warm at the compliment, and then Malfoy continued – “and because you’re hair is already a nest.”

“You’ll be a worm, because of the sh*t that comes out your mouth.” Hari laughed at the glare she received in response.

Hari flicked her wand, easily turning the beetle in front of her into a shiny black button. With a please smile she looked to the other side of the classroom, a habit she’d picked up, eyes always finding Malfoy when she’d done well. Today she found blue-grey eyes already looking at her, a smug grin on her lips as she held up a green button between her thumb and index.

Show off.

Hari mouthed, rolling her eyes when Malfoy stuck out her tongue.

“Actually, I’m going to try and call Moony, he might be able to help with this.” Hari found herself saying on the way to the library, she, Hermione and Ron had grabbed sandwiches from the Hall and were headed straight to the books.

“That’s a good idea.” Hermione nodded her approval. Hari nearly felt guilty for her fib, almost enough for her to change her path, to go to her dorm and call like she’d said. Almost enough to not go straight to Myrtle’s toilets.

Malfoy was sat on the windowsill, underneath the mermaid, her usual spot when they didn’t have enough time to head into the chambers. They wouldn’t practice magic in the bathrooms, as they may be overheard. Hari didn’t dwell on why they still met when they couldn’t practice. She didn’t want to think about why they went through the effort of sneaking around just to talk.

“If it isn’t the future Mrs Weasley.” Malfoy smirked as way of greeting.

“Don’t you start.” Hari sighed, strolling heavy footed over to sit at the blonde’s side. “If I have to hear anymore about that bloody article, I won’t be able to keep down my lunch.”

“It’s not true, is it?” Malfoy asked, her voice causal.

“Do you really have to ask that?” Hari sat up straight, baffled. “Of course it’s not, me and Ron- that would- no.” Hari spluttered.

“The photo was a little…” Malfoy pointed out, still not looking at Hari, who was now blushing.

“We’re friends, we hug.” Hari answered with a frown.

“I don’t hug my friends like that.” Malfoy gestured vaguely. Hari prickled.

“Well I do.” Hari snapped, and Malfoy finally looked at her, the other girls mouth opened then closed, as if she had something else to say, she didn’t.

“As long as you promise me there won’t be any Weasley-Potter children running around in a decades time. Can you imagine the hair?” Malfoy shuddered dramatically, Hari shoved her in response.

“Twat.”

Malfoy didn’t have much to say about the card, when Hari remembered to ask her about it right as they were leaving.

“It’s probably something horribly trivial, Crouch isn’t exactly inovitive.” Malfoy scoffed in the tone she used; the one Hari suspected Malfoy used when repeating something Lucius had said. “I’m sure Granger will figure it out.” She diissmissed, Hari decdied to interprete it as a compliment. It was the closet she’d get about Hermione from the pureblood.

Hari was late to charms, but thanks to her alibi, Hermione and Ron didn’t ask about it.

By the end of the week, Hari was ready to do something drastic about this whole Yule ball situation. With the first task out of the way, it was all anyone was talking about. All the girls in their year seemed to convert into boy obsessed monsters overnight, Hari’s dorm became a hub of ball preperation, right under her nose. Pavrati and Lavender had decided to volenteer their room to every Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girl – occasionally Hufflepuffs were allowed, but never Slytherins. Hari would come back from dinner to find hair and makeup parafenelia scattered across their room. Even Hermione had fallen vicitim, Hari – to her horror – had walked in on a Ravenclaw she didn’t know and Angela Johnson spinning Hermione’s hair into braids.

The fact the ball was weeks away didn’t matter, we need to practice, the Ravenclaw muttered around the pins in her mouth. Hermione still hadnt told Hari who she was going to the ball with, which she found strange but not overly problematic – she’d find out eventually. Ron however, was greatly offended.

“It must be someone reallly embaressing.” He’d concluded as they left divination. Hari hummed doubtfully. “I mean, why else wouldn’t she tell us?”

Hari didn’t have an answer, but then she didn’t really care. She wondered if that made her a bad friend.

“Who are you going with?” Hari asked, partly out of curiosity, and mostly because she wasn’t really interested in hearing his rant about Hermione’s date again.

“Oh I don’t know.” Ron huffed. “Everyone thinks we’re going together, girls keep giving me dirty looks if I mention it.”

“Maybe we should.” Hari shrugged. “No one else has asked me, and we could just go as friends.” Hari really didn’t like the idea of going at all, but at least with Ron they could have fun.

“Absoloutly not.” Ron asnwered, horrified. It only hurt Hari’s feelings a little bit.

“Why not?” Hari demanded, offended.

“Because if I ever want to have a chance at having a girlfriend, I need to make sure everyone knows we’re not together. And being your bloody date is the opposite of helpful.” Ron concluded. Hari frowned.

“Since when have you wanted a girlfriend?” Hari asked, genuinly baffeled. Since when did everyone decide they all needed to be a couple all of sudden? First Hermione has a secret boufriend, now Ron wants a girlfriend? Did Hari need a boyfriend too? Was it weird that she didn’t really want one? Malfoy never mentioned boys to Hari, was she going to eventually? When would it end?

“We’re fourth years now, Hari.” Ron explained, as if it was that simple, something obvious she should have realised. “You should get a boyfriend, then everyone will realise we’re not dating, and I can get a date for the ball.”

“Why do I have to get a boyfriend?” Hari demanded. “Why don’t you get a girlfriend? Then I can just go to the ball without a date, or I just won't go.” Hari knew it was pointless to argue it, she needed to go to the ball, a responsibility as champion. McGonagall had warned. Ron knew it too, which is why he didn’t bother arguing the point.

Hermione assured her she didn’t need a boyfriend - no one needs a boyfriend, don’t be silly. She didn’t have an answer about the date issue however. It was made worse by the fact that no one had asked Hari yet, her dormmates had all agreed this was because of the article. Hari suspected it was because she wasn’t very pretty.

It only got worse after The Incident.

It was a Monday, it was after lunch, Hari was on her own as she made her way to charms.

Hari still hadnt found her broom, though shed been far too distracted by mysterious envelops and anxiety enducing balls. In fact, she had been working up the courage to ask Neville to go with her, as a friend of course, when she heard Cedric Diggory call her name.

“Hari, hold up!” he called, a pretty smile on his face as he held up Hari’s firebolt in his grasp. Hari blinked at him, her mind taking a moment to carch up.

“Is that my broom?” she asked, Cedric caught up then, stopping in front of her she saw his friends stood a few feet behind him. Cho waved at her.

“Yeah.” He looked awkward as he handed it over, his smile turning ashamed. “I want to apologise on bhealf of my house, Hari. It is completely beneath a hufflepuff to steal from another student. I believe Will was just doing it to help me, which I told him was stupid. He’s with Sprout now, and he’ll come apologise once shes done with him. But I wanted to make sure you got your broom right away.” He smiled again. “Now we can have that seekers match Cho’s been banging on about.”

Hari stared, mouth agape at the broom in Cedric’s hands – he had nice hands – and the boys face- it was also very nice. Maybe Hari wouldn't mind the whole having a boyfriend thing, if he had a face like Cedric's. He smiled, laughing awkwardly. Hari snapped her mouth shut with a flush.

“Thank you.” She said, her voice came out raspy, she blushed deeper. She took her broom back, something in her chest settling to have it again, she couldn’t wait to tell Sirius. She’d felt so guilty losing her gift from him.

“Of course.” Cedric smiled easily. “How are you doing, anyway? Nervous about this ball, have you heard we have to dance first? In front of everyone?”

Hari groaned, she had.

“Don’t remind me.” She sighed.

“It won’t be so bad.” He shrugged easily. “Just need to make sure we take the right people as dates, I guess.”

“Are you taking Cho?” Hari asked, she didn’t like how her voice sounded, or the sting of annoyance she felt at Cho, at the idea of it. She liked Cho. Hari reminded herself.

“What? No.” Cedric laughed, like she’d made a joke. “Cho and I are just friends, she has… someone else in mind.”

Oh.

“So who are you going with?” Hari asked, because he had to be taking someone, a girl as beautiful as Cho, maybe one of the girls from Beauxbatons.

“Oh, I don’t have a date yet.” He smiled easily, like it didn’t bother him. Hari felt her mouth go dry.

Then, as if possessed by some evil spirit, some malicious demon – probably Peeves – who’s soul purpose was to humiliate Hari and ruin her life – Hari spoke.

“We could go together if you like.”

Hari froze.

Cedric froze.

The whole world froze. Hari’s eyes widened with horror as she realised what she’d done, then – as if everything couldn’t get any worse – Hari watched the same horror in Cedric’s panicked face.

“Oh- that’s.” He cleared his throat. “That’s very sweet of you, Hari. But I’m- I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Of course!” Hari gasped. “No of course not, it was stupid, forget I said anything.”

But Cedric kept talking.

“You’re very nice, and I like you – asafriend –“ He added so quickly Hari nearly didn’t catch it, but of course she did. “But you’re a bit young and- I don’t even think two champions are allowed to go together-“

“Yeah, no. Yeah you’re right.” Hari stumbled, her face so hot, steam should be rising off her cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, just an idea, forget I said it. Sorry. Er.” Hari’s eyes were stinging, she needed to leave, she needed to run. “Thanks for my broom – I’ll – I’ll see you around.” Then she turned, and then she was walking – running really. She didn’t know where, she just picked the opposite direction of Cedric and went.

What had she been thinking? She hadn’t meant to ask him, why on earth would she? It was so obvious he would say no, of course he would. She was so stupid. Cedric wouldn’t want to go with Hari, he was far to perfect, with his pretty blond hair and sweet smile, so tall and handsome. He was kind as well, kind enough to let Hari down easy. Oh Merlin, what if he told his friends that she asked? People might have heard. They’d laugh, because why wouldn’t they? Hari was short, had far too much hair for a girl, her knees and elbows were pointy. Her body flat and skinny like a boy. She wasn’t pretty, she was stupid and boring and annoying and-

She’d found herself in a bathroom – not Myrtle's thank goodness. It was empty and so no one saw her run and lock herself in a stall. She dropped her broom to the ground and it clattered in the tiles as she threw down the toilet lid and slumped onto it.

She missed charms, but she didn’t much care. She couldn’t stand seeing anyone right now, not when they might have heard by now. Instead she sat in the toilets and cried snotty tears, rubbing her nose raw with toilet paper.

Eventually her tears ran dry and her nose clogged up, the humiliation of rejection replaced with the embarrassment of hiding in the toilets to cry about it. Hari unlocked the stall and splashed her face with cold water. She was too late to go to class now, and knew if she went to the dorms she’d be found by a prefect and taken to McGonngall. Hari didn’t feel like that now, so she spent to the rest of the hour in the toilets, she studied the envelop for a bit – it was always on her person, easily slipped into the breast pocket of her robes. Then, when she inevitably grew bored, she pulled out the electronics text book Hermione had bought her. She needed a new project now the speaker for Sirius was complete – he’d written her after his birthday to rave about how much he liked it, swelling Hari’s heart to bursting.

Meanwhile, Ron was in the main court yard, approaching Fleur Delacour to boldly ask her to the dance. Hari would hear about it later, she wouldn’t ever find out that Ron had just heard about Hari asking Cedric, that he’d heard Pansy Parkinson snickering, eager to spread the word of Hari’s rejection.

Years in the future, Ron would be sat with Hermione, their daughter Rose rocking in his arms. Hermione would be sipping red wine and smiling at him, files open on her lap as she worked on her next big project in her quest for total ministry reform. They’d be teasing each other about exes and child hood crushes, Gilderoy, Mary, Lavender Brown, Krum. Hermione would mention Fleur, Ron’s famed public rejection. Ron would blush, then smile, then he’d tell her. Hermione wouldn’t believe him at first, that he didn’t really have a crush on Fleur – everyone fancied her – Hermione would arch a brow. Not me. Ron would shrug – Fleur was beautiful, no doubt, but Ron never really new her back then, not enough to fancy her. So why? Hermione asked, willing to indulge. So they wouldn’t talk about Hari. Ron would shrug. And so everyone would see I was on the market, obviously. He added with a smile full of mirth.

“You’re the sweetest man on the planet, do you know that Ronald Weasley?” Hermione will say, with a chest full of love and adoration. Ron would blush and smile wider.

“And you get me all to yourself, Hermione Weasley.” He’d reply.

“Granger-Weasley.” Hermione would correct. And Ron would grin, the happiest man in the world.

Chapter 28: But We Were Dancing

Chapter Text

Rita Skeeter was having a very busy weekend.

On Friday, she managed to catch that wonderful photo of Harriet Potter and her Weasley boy. Then of course the Triwizard task on Saturday, it was a shame really, that they happened so close together, as the photo could have been front page material, alas, she was happy to settle for page 3. Her name would be on the front anyway.

Sunday was less successful, she’d managed to get into Hogwarts easily enough as a beetle, but she was quickly chased out again by some half feral ginger cat.

Monday however, was the day she ran into Mr Penflitch. She’d been trying to orchestrate bumping into him for weeks, ever since he’d first heard his name floated around the Hogwarts faculty, usually accompanied by Harriet Potter and a Mary Williams. Rita knew the name well, it had featured heavily in articles she’d written herself. Now she needed to find out why Lucius Malfoy’s defence attorney was working for some muggle-born witch, and what it had to do with Harriet Potter.

Rita’s attempts thus far, had been unsuccessful. Mr Penflitch was a notoriously difficult man to get a hold. He flat out refused a meeting with her, which wasn’t too surprising, legal types usually avoided the press. But even when Rita had tried making an appointment under a pseudonym, she had been informed that initial consultations required a five hundred galleon deposit, ‘to ensure Mr Penflitch’s time is not wasted, he is in very high demand you see’, his receptionist had explained. So Rita had resorted to loitering around the legal department of the ministry, waiting near tea stations and lavatories. To no avail. Her usual tactic was also useless, due to the wards within the ministry building, preventing animagus forms. Rita was beginning to give up on finding the man.

Then Monday came. Rita was at the ministry completely by chance – another pesky case of libel – when Rita had just left the court room to powder her nose, and found the very man she’d failed to find for weeks, strolling down the hall, a crowd of staff surrounding him, like a swarm of mayflies.

So shocked was she, that Rita nearly wasn’t in time to follow them into the other court room they were headed to. It was a smaller gallery than the one she had been in, one that press were not welcome in, but the general public were free to enter as they please. Rita smiled pleasantly as her bag was searched by a bored looking auror, once her quick-quote-quill and camera were taken, she was free to take a seat. No bother, this was what the office pensive was for.

It was barely 10am on a Monday, and the room was sparsely occupied. Rita had staff to check the schedule for the courts every day, this was certainly not booked ahead, which means it has been arranged just this morning. Rita was grinning like a cat with a mouth full of canary feathers; that meant Mr Penflitch didn’t want the press to know about whatever he was presenting to the judge today. He’d only succeeded in giving Rita an exclusive. She was nearly purring with pleasure.

The judge entered, looking displeased with the last-minute summons, he waved a hand lazily to call for everyone to sit. A quick introduction was given, the necessary drivel read out and agreements met, then Mr Penflitch was given the floor.

“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Lord Brimble.” He greeted the judge, a confident charm radiating easily from the man. “I wish to present to you the case of Harriet Potter, with who I’m sure you’re familiar. I was recently made aware of grievous over sight in relation to the young girl’s custody. Before you is a collection of evidence brought to me by the girl’s godmother, one Mary Williams - including letters from the late Lily and James Potter, testimonies from Hogwarts faculty and Miss Potter herself. All of which highlights a long history of mistreatment, neglect and outright abuse this girl has received at the hand of her muggle aunt and uncle, people who were given guardianship of her illegally.”

Rita Skeeter was not an evil woman, she was selfish yes, conniving, manipulative – absolutely. It was part of her job, she couldn’t be soft or polite if she wanted to be successful. That didn’t make her evil.

However, as she sat in the bench, listening to a lawyer describe the abuse of a young girl, Rita could only grin.

So preoccupied with plans for what was sure to be several weeks of front-page articles, Rita didn’t notice Regulus Black at the other end of the court room. Unfortunately for Rita, he had noticed her.

Rita Skeeter was having a very busy weekend.

Clearly it had caught up with her, as she found herself lost in thought in the powder room of the ministry courts department. She could have sworn she’d only popped out of the court room for the libel case for a moment, but it was an hour later that her assistant found her in the toilets.

“Ms Skeeter? Is everything alright?” The nervous young woman squeaked, “You’ve been gone a while.”

Rita shook her head to clear the fog.

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She dismissed, packing her lipstick back into her purse. She noticed her quill was absent, and hadn’t she brought her camera today? How odd. She didn’t have time to linger however, and quickly pushed the thought aside, she had a long day ahead. Maybe she’d book a holiday soon, she’d been ever so busy lately.

For the second time in the short first term of school, Hari was saved from public scrutiny thanks to Fleur Delacour. First it was the interview with Skeeter, in which Fleur used her Veela influence to draw attention away from Hari. Now, thanks to Fleur very publicly rejecting her best friend, no one was talking about Hari humiliating herself in front of Cedric. Well, almost no one, somehow Pansy Parkinson had found out, and decided to bring it up every time Hari was walking past. But Hari was used to the petty barbs from Pansy, so she didn’t mind it so much. There was even a benefit to the public rejections she and Ron both suffered – at least Ron said so – in that no one thought Hari and Ron were going out anymore.

This revelation led to what Hari would later describe as the most stressful week of her young adult life – and yes, she would include fighting Dark Lords in this comparison. It started with Zach Smith, who insisted on walking Hari to each of her lessons on Monday, despite having his own classes to attend on opposite sides of the castle. Then, Angus Meyer – a third year she’d seen once or twice in the common room – asked if he could sit with her at dinner (Hari tried to say no, because she always sat with Ron and Hermione at dinner, but Ron had suddenly decided to sit with his brothers that day).

Things only got worse when on Thursday, Richard Briars, a fifth year Ravenclaw, offered to carry Hari’s quidditch gear back to the castle after practice. Richard was a gangly boy with black hair who’s nails were always dirty, but according to Lavender Brown, was very popular, and had told his friend, who had told Lavender’s brother who had told her-

“-He thinks you’re ‘well cool and pretty’ and wants to ask you to the Yule Ball.” The blonde had explained with rapid fire glee, she was perched on the foot of Hari’s bed – the first time she’d ever done so – as she giggled excitedly. “You’re so lucky Hari, I’ve always wanted an older boy to like me, they’re so much more sophisticated.”

“Sophisticated?” Hermione scoffed from her own bed, slamming her book down. “His idea of entertainment is him and his friends pouring orange juice into each other’s cereal in the morning.

“Wouldn’t that make the milk curdle?” Hari asked, more than a little disgusted, though it would make breakfast more efficient. Maybe if it was tea instead of juice…

“Yes Hari, it would make the milk curdle, it’s disgusting, he’s disgusting.” Hermione cut in. “Besides, you shouldn’t say yes to him just because he’s popular, or older. You only spoke to him the first time today.”

Hari hadn’t even considered saying yes to him, she hadn’t thought much about him at all until Lavender had brought it up, and now she was mostly thinking about milk and orange juice – what if you made tea from dried orange? Then added milk-

“Oh, what would you know, Hermione? You don’t even like boys you bloody carpet muncher.” Lavender snapped meanly, Hermione gasped, getting to her feet.

“I am not!” She began, then breathed. “I am not a lesbian, but even if I was there is nothing wrong with that.”

Hari felt her hands get hot and numb, she glanced from her friend to Lavender then to Pavrati, who had been sat quietly on her own bed. The other girl quickly avoided Hari’s gaze.

“Hermione’s not a lesbian, she’s got a boyfriend.” Hari heard herself say. “He’s taking her to the ball. And anyway, I might say yes to Richard if he asks, he has nice- he was nice yesterday, he offered to carry my things for me.”

Lavender’s sneer softened into excitement, and she quickly turned away from Hermione, forgetting the other girl entirely to focus on Hari.

“Oh what a gentleman!” Lavender gushed happily, Hari pretended to keep her focus entirely on the other girl, ignoring the confused and somewhat wounded looks Hermione kept throwing her way.

The next morning, Hari found Neville on the way to breakfast.

“Neville, who are you taking to the Yule ball?” She asked him with an excited smile that bordered on desperate if you paid too much attention. Neville was too nervous to.

“Oh I- I hadn’t asked anybody yet.” He answered with a blush.

“Would you like to take me?” Hari asked quickly, eager to get the words out before they passed anyone who might overhear. Neville nearly tripped over his feet.

“I-“ He stumbled. “I didn’t know you- yes. Yes that would nice.”

“Great!” Hari grinned, relief spilling from her chest and down her limbs. “Okay see you later!” And then she fled, nearly running to the Hall to dump herself in between Hermione and Ron.

She had cheerios with half her tea mixed in with the milk, it tasted terrible.

The week continued mostly uneventful, until the dreaded dance lessons Professor McGonagall had unleased on them all as some kind of cruel and unusual punishment. Hari paired with Hermione for the lesson, stumbling over the other girl's toes, as Hermione diligently counted steps to try and keep them in time. Hari had moaned about it to Malfoy, who smugly told Hari about the ballroom dance lessons she’d had since she was bloody five. Hari wasn’t surprised by that really, that seemed like the kind of posh thing her parents would do. What did surprise Hari, was what Malfoy did the next time they met.

“What on earth are you doing?” Hari had asked, watching Dulcinea set up a gramophone near the entrance to the small section of tunnel that they’d claimed as their own.

“Putting on some music, obviously.” She answered to which Hari huffed impatiently.

“Why?” She pushed.

“To dance.” Dulcinea said with a shrug as the record started playing, it was the same classical stuff McGonagall played earlier that week, when she insisted they all learn to waltz.

“Dance.” Hari said, waiting for Malfoy to elaborate.

“Yes, Potter. The Yule Ball is in two weeks, and you dance like you don’t have joints.” Dulcinea explained as she meandered over to her, “And I happen to be a very good friend who is willing to teach you to waltz.”

Hari stared at Dulcinea’s outstretched hand then scowled.

“Why?” Hari asked, her hand twitched at her side, but she managed keep it down. Dulcinea sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Do you want my help or not? I’m more than happy to watch you embarrass yourself.” She said with a twitch of her brow, then began to withdraw her hand. Hari stood and took it.

“Fine.” She snapped, letting herself be pulled in, Dulcinea placed a palm on her waist and Hari jumped. “Why do you get to lead?” She demanded. Dulcinea huffed.

“Because I’m teaching you. And you’re going to dance with a boy at the ball, you need to get used to being lead.” She schooled, then guided Hari’s hand to her shoulder, taking the left in her own as she counted steps. Hari followed awkwardly, consistently a step behind.

“I’m going with Neville.” Hari said as the song played on and they spun in clumsy circles.

“Of course.” Dulcinea said, but there was an edge to it.

“What?” Hari asked, lifting her gaze to look Dulcinea in the eye, she didn’t think she’d seen them that close before. They looked dark grey in the shadows the chamber.

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” She replied with a frown.

“No, but you had a look.” Hari pushed.

“What look?”

“That look. The Malfoy look.” Hari said, gesturing with her chin to the steel in the others girl’s gaze, the slight pout in her lip.

“The Malfoy look?”

“Yes, the look that says, ‘i hate this but I’m much too British to express my feelings so I’m going to sulk instead.” Hari teased, trying her best to push a reaction.

“I don’t sulk.” She sulked.

“Of course not, now why are you upset?” Hari appeased, keeping her tone light.

“I’m not upset.” She looked upset.

“Okay.” Hari dismissed with a shrug, she went back to watching her feet, Dulcinea scolded her for it, using the hand that had been rested on her waist to push her chin up.

“You should make sure to look at your partner, you’re more likely to fall looking at your feet.” She reprimanded, the song had started again, and Dulcinea lead them into a fresh waltz. “I just don’t see why you’d go with him.”

Hari stared at her for a moment, forgetting what they were talking about. “Why not?” She asked with a shrug, when she remembered.

“A number of reasons.” Dulcinea scoffed, though didn’t elaborate. Dulcinea continued to sulk for another two dances, not lighting up no matter how much Hari tried.

“Why are you so angry about it?” Hari said, pulling out of Dulcinea’s grasp, her waist felt cold without her hand. “Was there someone else I was supposed to go with?”

“No.” Dulcinea said, looking away from her. Hari stared at the other girl, annoyed. She could usually tell what was causing one of her Malfoy's moods, but she couldn’t find one. She was like this whenever Hari brought up Neville….

“Wait Malfoy… do you have a crush on Neville?” Hari asked, the pieces finally clicking together.

“No! Don’t be stupid.” Malfoy said, aghast.

“Then why are you being jealous?” Hari prodded, because she was, she was sure of it now.

“I am NOT jealous.” Dulcinea said with a very childish and very comical stomp of her foot, glaring at Hari.

“You sound jealous. You sound just like Ron, when Ginny made the quidditch team before him.” Hari pushed.

“Don’t compare me to the Weasel.” She scoffed, flicking her hair before turning to the gramophone and switching it off, apparently done dancing.

“I don’t see why you like him.” She said into the silence, so quiet that Hari had to move closer to hear her.

“Because he’s my friend and he’s nice, I like spending time with him.” Hari argued. “I don’t get why you’re so mean to him, he’s a pureblood like you, he’s even in the sacred 28.”

“No everything is about blood, Potter.” Malfoy scoffed, picking non-existent fluff from her robes.

“Then why don’t you like him?” Hari pushed.

“Why do you?” Dulcinea said, turning back to face her.

“He’s nice, he’s sweet, he’s easy company.” Hari listed.

“He’s boring, you just described him as boring.” Dulcinea complained, folding her arms across her chest defensively.

“No, I didn’t.” Hari argued.

“’Easy company’? That’s code for boring.” Dulcinea said.

“Since when?” Hari could almost laugh at how silly she was being.

“It just is, he’s boring and simple and I don’t like him.” Dulcinea was snappy as she insulted him.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one going out with him.” Hari snapped back, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“You’re going out with him? I thought you were just going to the Yule ball with him.” Dulcinea sounded horrified.

“I mean, we’ve been seeing a lot of each other, I think he likes me.” Hari felt her cheeks get warm, she avoided Dulcinea’s steely gaze as she spoke.

“But do you like him?” She pushed again.

“We’ve covered this!” Hari shouted, glaring at Dulcinea. Why was she being so weird about this? “Who would you want me to go with? Because I can’t see you being okay with anyone I went out with.”

“That’s not true.” She said.

“So what if I said I was dating Ron?” Hari said, cringing somewhat at the idea, sorry Ron. “Or Seamus, or Dean.”

“They’re all Gryffindors.” Dulcinea said as if that answered her question.

“Okay what about McMillan, Nott or Zabini?” Hari continued, stepping towards the other girl, glaring at her.

“Have you ever even spoken to them?” Dulcinea said, shrugging and avoiding her gaze.

“No! But you know who I talk a lot to? Neville!” Hari shouted again, breathing heavy, her neck hot with annoyance.

“Fine.” Dulcinea finally said, meeting her gaze for a moment before quickly turning away again.

“Fine?” Hari asked in disbelief.

“Yes, fine.”

“What does ‘fine’ even mean?” Hari dragged her hands down her face, she felt like putting her head through a bloody wall talking to Malfoy.

“It means I don’t care! Why do you want to know what I think?” Dulcinea snapped, dropping her crossed arms and leaning forward, they were close as they glared at each other.

“I don’t!” Hari shouted.

“Okay!” Dulcinea shouted back.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Why do you always have to have the last word?!” Hari yelled, glaring at the girl.

“I don’t!” She lied.

“You do!”

“Whatever.”

“You’re doing it right now!” Hari pointed out.

“So are you!” Dulcinea countered,

“No I’m not.” Hari lied right back.

“Yes you are.” Dulcina said, with a look in her eye that seemed to scream ‘prove me wrong’. Hari glared at her, scrunching her face up with effort to bite her tongue.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” She finally said, she got the last word, but Malfoy only looked pleased.

Hari mulled over the strange conversation the next day, still not sure what they’d been arguing about. She was still frowning at the ground when she felt Neville speed past her out of greenhouses. Unusual for him, considering their next lesson was potions- usually he’d drag his feet next to Hari. Though Neville had been behaving strangely ever since the latest Skeeter article.

Hari had hoped that after securing Neville as a date for the ball, all the talk about her and boys would come to an end. To her great displeasure, Rita Skeeter had somehow found out, and decided it was worthy of a page six article in the prophet. It was an entire page gushing about what a perfect match she and Neville were. Gryffindors both from old pureblood families (the article didn’t mention that Hari was half-blood), both parents lost to the war (Neville’s parents are both very much alive) and were destined to follow their parents footsteps as head girl and boy (Hari was under no such delusion, with Hermione in her year, no one else stood a chance for head girl). In fact, Hari was unlikely to even be a prefect.

It was all a bit stupid, but Hari couldn’t find the energy to be overly annoyed, since there was no mention of the upcoming court date for her custody. She wasn’t sure how Mary had managed to keep it away from Skeeter, but she was massively relieved not to have it blasted across the front page, as she worried it would. Neville, on the other hand, had become incredibly weird about it all. Hari supposed he wasn’t used to having his business aired for everyone to see, like she was. Neville had taken to avoiding Hari, the walk between herbology and potions was the only time where it was just the two of them. Still, Hari had jog to catch up with the boy, who was quick to speed away with his head tucked low and books hugged tight to his chest.

“Neville!” Hari cheered, slowing her pace when she caught up. Neville was immediately blushing.

“Oh- Hi Hari.” He stuttered out, smiling a little sheepishly, Hari returned it.

“I just wanted to say sorry – about all the Skeeter stuff, I know it’s annoying.” Hari offered nervously.

“Oh!” Neville seemed surprised. “No- it’s fine, I mean, I know it’s not your fault.”

“I mean- it kind of is.” Hari argued. “But anyway, just wanted to say that I get it if you don’t want to go with me anymore.”

“What?” Neville stopped then, looking shocked and somehow – even more red. “No! I - I don’t mind the um – the articles and things.” Hari frowned, disbelieving.

“But you’ve been avoiding me.” She pointed out. Neville looked away.

“Sorry- I just- I'm – I've never had a um- date? Before, sorry if I've been awkward.” He apologised, hugging his textbooks tighter.

“Me neither.” Hari shrugged easily. “It’s all a bit weird isn’t it? Everyone being so obsessed with having boyfriends and girlfriends all of a sudden.”

“Yeah.” Neville sighed, they began walking again, then he continued. “So does- are we? Are you my girlfriend then?”

Hari considered this, her brow creasing in thought. She liked Neville, he was nice and sweet. He wasn’t loud and rude like a lot of boys were, and they were friends weren’t they? Would it be that different?

“Maybe? I don’t know, do you want me to be your girlfriend?” Hari asked curiously. It would make things easier. Boys would stop being weird, she’d have a date for any future balls or events or whatever. Maybe if she had a boyfriend Skeeter would get bored of speculating about Hari’s love life. Neville was nice looking as well, apart from his teeth, which seemed to be fighting for space. He had nice hair, and his smile was sweet (when he kept his mouth closed). Hari turned to the boy, to find him avoiding her gaze and blushing terribly.

“That would be nice I think.” He spoke very quietly. Well, that was sorted then.

“Cool.” Hari grinned, happy to have fixed the problem. They kept walking for a bit when Hari felt something tug at her hand, she looked to find Neville holding it. His palm was very hot and a bit sticky, but it wasn’t the worst thing. Neville looked like he was about to burst, and seemed to be pretending that Hari wasn’t there, focusing intently on the hall ahead of him.

There were a few whispers and pointed glances as they made their way, coming to a peak when they finally reached their potions room. Hari and Neville split with awkward smiles and Hari found her seat beside Ron. She didn’t look at the Slytherin side of the room, but she could feel Malfoy watching her. Hari didn’t glance her way.

Chapter 29: My Daddy's Got a Gun

Chapter Text

For once, Remus was eager for the full moon to finally show its self, because at least then he wouldn’t be so f*cking cold. He rubbed his fingers against the thighs of his jeans, hoping to bring some life back into them, after trying in vain to get the heating in the car going.

“Enough time to f*ck in the backseat before we have to go in?” Sirius smirked, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his chattering teeth. “It would warm us up a bit.”

Remus couldn’t deny he was tempted, the closer the moon he got the more... malleable his usually firm self-control became. His mind wondered to the thought of how they might keep each other warm, of using his own mouth to turn Sirius’s now pale lips to that bright flushed red... He shook his head.

“Keep it in your pants, Black.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, which he knew would only wind Sirius up more. “Come on, we should head in, I’d rather be inside when I have to take my clothes off in this bloody cold.”

“But you said-” Sirius began

“For the moon Sirius.” Remus cut him off with a role of his eyes, turning to get out of the car to hide his smile. Maybe that one had been on purpose, just a little bit. Sirius had been in a better mood these last few weeks. Remus wasn’t sure whether it was how well things were going with Hari’s case, or it was finally gettiing on – somehwat unsteady – speaking times with Regulus. Though Remus suspected that a larger part of it was that Sirius was starting to look more like his old self, he’d put on weight, adding a softness to the jutting bones, he was back to using the products and charms he loved, wearing his own clothes and – though Remus knew he’d never admit it out loud – was using a charm to cover the splatter of greys through his long black waves. Sirius was always beautiful, and not just because Remus was so embarrassingly in love with him, it was simply true. Even when his hair was matted and his skin dirty and body frail and thin, Sirius Black was still so incredibly beautiful. For a long time, Remus had suspected he’d romanticised the other man, during those long years. Remus convinced himself that there was no way Sirius was as ethereal, so other worldly in his splendour, as he’d remembered. But no, Remus had remembered him perfectly, even wild and starved from his escape, Sirius was beyond any human description.

But the cost of that, Remus thought, was that Sirius believed – stupidly – that he wasn’t himself unless he lived up to that perfection. So, it wasn’t until he’d primmed and polished until he was like new, that he began to really be himself again. Including the overconfidence, the outrageous flirtations, and that f*cking grin. It made Remus realise how much of his own sense of self relied on Sirius. Remus was the quiet to Sirius’s loud, the rough to his shine, the ground to catch him when he flew too high. Sirius was there to match his sharpness, would meet him head on in his stubbornness. Sirius made him act, kicked him out of the passiveness he’d used to keep him going, reminded him there were things worth moving for.

Like making Hari safe, which started with finding Peter.

It was an old manor they had arrived at the day before. It sat on fields of overgrown land, heavy with notice me not charms to keep muggles away. It looked like one of those buildings owned by the National Trust or done up into a hotel for weddings and the like. Instead, it looked one day of bad weather from caving in, a fragile dampness encompassing the building. When they did their initial sweep, they house had been empty, but not abandoned. The wood was mouldy and the wallpaper sagged, dust a thick layer over moth eaten rotten furniture. But through the dust there were footprints, a worn path to the master bedroom, where ash sat in the fireplace and fingerprints marked the window. It was in that room, under a bed, that they found the nest, surrounded by regurgitated rat bones and one long dried snakeskin. There was a lingering smell of dark magic, ripe and alkaline. It was the right place, though it seemed Peter and his friends had moved on. But they’d been expecting that and returned the next night – on the full. Remus had taken the wolfsbane Regulus had provided them, it would be enough for him to keep control for the night, though he suspected he and the wolf were of one mind. It wanted to catch the rat as much as Remus, though Remus would need to be aware enough to stop them from killing him outright – he needed to be alive.

They’d kept watch of the house, no apparations no sign of anyone coming or going. It seemed that Peter had moved on, but he had been there, and that was enough. Even if they had apparated away, the wolf would be able to tell for sure. Apparation wasn’t easy to track, but it did leave traces, subtle as they were, and Remus was familiar enough with Peter’s magic to get a trail.

Remus lead them both to the room, it wouldn’t be long now. He began to undress, folding his clothes and stuffing them into the back Sirius brought. Inside was a thick blanket, he pulled it out and draped it around his shoulders whilst they waited.

Changing was always a strange experience under wolfsbane, it offered a clarity that Remus could do without, a sharpness to the pain without the relief of blacking out.

Remus felt his body crack and realign, his snout lengthen and his ears reshape. The process was quick at least, and soon Moony was overwhelmed by how much louder the world became. Colours became less crisp, but he didn’t need them, not with all the other information rushing through.

He could hear the creak of the wood in the walls as the wind brushed by, the leaves rustling and the tiny steps of mice down below. He could smell the rot of the house, the dead things in the cracks and the small things eating them. And Padfoot, he could smell the warmth of his pack mate, feel the wet of his nose as he pressed into his side, hear the heavy beat of his heart. Moony buried his nose into the dog's rough fur, nipping him, he wanted to chase, he wanted play. But the man was still awake, and he wanted to hunt.

Moony refocused, pressing his nose into the old blankets, the musky nest below the bed. There was magic there, Moony wanted to get away from it, but the man pushed forward. It was dark magic, rotten and old and wrong. Moony wanted to get away, they needed to get away, it wasn’t safe. The black dog shouldn’t be there, he needed to be outside, it wasn’t good there.

But Remus pushed further, until the magic was deep in their nostrils, they pulled away finally, but not to go outside, but to follow the smell. It took them out of the room but not downstairs, were the breeze called, bringing the smell of earth and frost and life, but up again. The smell took them up to an attic, where the dust became even thicker.

The smell was getting stronger, and Moony let out a whine, his hackles rising. They needed to leave.

Remus pushed out a growl and dragged them forward, until the smell changed, the dark was still there but now it was hidden by something weaker, lighter. It wasn’t complicated magic but it was easy to hide, from human eyes and noses, but Moony could feel it. He sniffed a long a wall, stopping at a tapestry hung along the wall. Remus had checked it when he was a man, but it had revealed nothing, now as a wolf, he recognised the smell of the rat. And with that thought, the lighter magic crumbled, as though unable to hold when observed, the illusion fell apart to reveal the room hidden behind it.

Hari didn’t like the feel of wood under her belly, she didn’t like the dust and debris that came within human walls. She did like the warmth though, and the creatures in the walls that made for an easy meal. She didn’t remember the last time she was so well fed. The last few weeks with the master had allowed her to rest and feast in a way she hadn’t since she had two legs, all those decades ago. That was changing now though, the man who reeked of fear was becoming more anxious, worrying constantly in master’s ear. He was annoying, she wishes master would let her eat him.

Not yet, Nagini. Not while he is still of use. Master croons, she slides down from master’s nest to the rotten ground, and the rat picks him up. He takes master up the stairs to the attic, and she works quickly to rebuild her nest somewhere safe, letting the magic master gave her to fuse out, protecting him from the wolf. The rat is not strong enough to kill them, but she is, though master does not allow it. She must stay by his side, she must keep him safe.

The wolf is inside now, she can smell him, and the dog he brings. She can feel the weight of the full moon up high, the wolf is strong enough to kill master in his vulnerable state. It was a risk for him to share with her, but she sees the gift for what it is, master trusts her, she is his most loyal servant, much more so than the coward who sweats beside them. She will protect the master.

There is a howl of pain as bones crack and reshape below them, it makes the rat whimper.

“Steal yourself, Wormtail.” Master scolds him. She slips out her tongue to taste the fear on the rat, she could not wait to eat him. The coward casts his magic, it is weak and mild next to the master’s, but it is necessary. His unassuming shield will mask the raw power the master provides, she uses it to keep them protected, the rat keeps them hidden.

The wolf gets closer. She can smell his hunger, the strength of the bound between him and the dog. She freezes as she tastes them on the air. She knows them.

The dog protected her, he and the wolf.

They were safe.

No. She hissed. They will harm the master.

Hush, Nagini. They cannot harm me.

She realises that he is right, they can’t. But they are close now, close enough to find them.

The master will kill them.

The coward is shaking now, his hand on his wand slick with sweat, he was ready to cast the killing curse for master. She could feel the vibration of the words on his lips.

Panic floods her, the wolf was just behind the barrier now, his nose buried into the tapestry outside. If the wolf finds them, he will die.

Master must run now. Nagini hisses, before releasing her coil to strike the wolf through the barrier, the magic crumbling like dust.

Voldemort curses loudly, before ordering Wormtail to take them away. As Nagini’s fangs sink into the meat of the wolf’s front leg. The wolf snarls and returns the favour, his jaw snapping around the snake, shaking his head wildly to throw her from him. But she doesn’t budge, only sliding her body around him, squeezing his sides so she covered him. The wolf thrashed and whined, moving too erratically for a spell to land without the risk of her taking the blow.

With a yelp of terror, Wormtail holds the master and with stumbling feat, snaps them both away. Nagini hisses with both terror and relief, the two minds warring within her, her body slackening around the wolf as a second pair of teeth tear into her. She is launched from the beast and thrown into the wall.

Nagini is abandoned by her master, but she is not alone, she sees it with clarity now, as she hisses at the approaching snarls. Another set of eyes rests behind her own, watching as she is torn apart.

We protected them. The two think in unison, before Nagini is torn in two.

Hari wakes with a scream.

Madam Pomfrey had once been able to go to sleep in her rooms above the infirmary, confident that she would not be woken up until her wand chimed in the morning. She had given up on the idea very shortly after Harriet Potter started at Hogwarts. Now she went to bed with her robes within arm’s reach and her medical kit at the door. It didn’t happen every night of course, but she new it was inevitable that once a term, she would be woken by the alarm of her wards to find Harriet or one of her friends in her ward. Oftentimes, it wasn’t even one of them that needed attending, but another student who would inevitably been caught up in the other three student’s misadventures.

That night, Harriet was brought in by Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley was absent for a change. In his place was Minerva McGonagall.

“Minnie? What’s happened?” Poppy asked, her short pointed tone covering the panic now rising as she looked over the girl beside her.

Harriet looked ashen, he eyes wide and bloodshot, small frame shaking. Minerva appeared to be holding most of her weight as she guided her to a bed.

“Nightmare, I believe.” The woman answered, a heavy look cast her way. Poppy nodded quickly in understanding. Minerva had come to her not long ago about the young girls affliction. She hadn’t been expecting it to be quite so severe. This was beyond nightmares, this was not something that could be fixed with herbal teas and soothing words. Harriet was panting, her eyes wide and glazed over in panic, her body jerking and twitching as Minerva and Hermione tried to lay her down.

“M-moony.” The girl sobbed out. “You have to find Moony.” Poppy rounded the bed to the girl’s side, waving her wand with sure and steady hands. The diagnostic spells came back as expected, elevated heart rate and adrenaline, a spike in magical energy…. Poppy frowned at the swirl of colour indicating Harriet’s magical core. Minerva noticed it too, a gasp slipping past her lips.

“What? What is it?” Hermione, ever the sharp student, prompted, her eyes locking onto the swirl of green, and the black that pierced it’s edges.

“Miss Granger, I think it best you return to your dorm.” Poppy dismissed the spell and pulled open her potions bag, quickly popping a calming draught.

“No. I’m staying with her.” The young girl replied sternly, grasping the other girls hand tighter. Poppy ignored her in favour of catching Harriet’s gaze.

“Miss Potter, drink this please, it will help.” She held the vial to the girls mouth, but she only shook her head with a frustrated cry.

“Moony is hurt please!”

Poppy frowned, turning to Minerva to ask who on earth she was talking about, but then her eye caught the tall windows of the opposite wall, and the full moon that hung outside it.

“Oh Merlin.” She gasped, the realisation finally hitting her, how many times had she heard the name Moony, those days after the moons when Sirius Black and James Potter took over her infirmary. “Minerva, do you have a way of contacting Remus Lupin?” She asked quickly. At this Harriet let out a whining sigh, it sounded almost like relief, her body unwinding as though Poppy had succeeded in feeding her the draught. She took advantage of the moment to slip her the potion, then uncorked the second – a magic suppressant – and fed her it as well.

“Professor Black might know where they are.” Hermione answered the question after Minerva had shaken her head no.

“Bring him hear please, Minerva. I believe Mr Lupin is in need of help.” Poppy dismissed the Professor, before turning back to her patient. She cast the diagnostic’s again, relieved to see the black to have slipped away, leaving a pure green behind. “If you are going to stay, Miss Granger, then you ought to make yourself useful.” Poppy turned to the young girl still glued to Harriet’s side. Inquisitive brown eyes lite up as she nodded, eager to be of help.

“Get your f*cking feet off the bed, Sirius.” Remus stirred at the familiar voice, drawing him into consciousness.

“Sorry mother.” Came Sirius’s reply from his left, the bed Remus lay on adjusted as the offending part was removed.

“Don’t be a child.” Regulus scolded, then there was a brush of magic as a cleaning spell hit the blankets. “And take your shoes off, you’re getting dirt everywhere.”

Remus opened his eyes to find himself not in a bedroom he didn’t recognise. He lay on a four poster under heavy expensive sheets, the room large and appointed with rich furnishings that looked like they’d been heavily misused. His gaze roamed the room, until they landed on a selection of playboy posters pinned to the ceiling.

“Padfoot. Where the f*ck am I?” Remus asked. Sirius barked out a laugh to his right.

“My old bedroom.” He answered, winking when Remus turned to look at him. “Don’t get too excited though, Moons. Don’t want to scar little Reggie and his delicate sensibilities.”

Remus thought he heard the younger Black brother mumble something like that hasn’t stopped you before under his breath, but Sirius either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore him.

“How you feeling Moony? You remember much?” Sirius asked, leaning forward, his brow cinched in concern.

Remus nodded, sitting up in the bed as he looked over himself. His left arm twinged with pain as he adjusted. Last night coming back to him slowly. Riddle manor, the nest. They followed the scent up and then. Remus flinched and rubbed at the bandages wrapped around the wound. They’d been attacked by a snake, it had been hiding behind a barrier, they couldn’t see it the night before, but the wolf had seen through it. Peter.

Peter had been there, only for a second, but he’d smelt his fear, heard his cry. Past the flash of fangs and scales and the searing pain of venom he had seen Peter. Then he’d apparated away, and whatever lay in that cradle went with him.

“He apparated, did you manage to get a trace?” Remus asked eagerly. His heart sank when he saw the guilt take over Sirius’s face. He hadn’t done it.

“I’m sorry, Moons. I – that f*cking snake bit you, I didn’t have time – we had to make sure you were okay.” Sirius said, trying to reach for Remus’s hand over the blankets, but he pulled away.

“That was stupid, Padfoot. It was just a bite, I’m fine. Peter was the priority, and now we’ve got nothing.” Remus snapped bitterly. It took them months to find them, and it was mostly luck, the chances of finding a trace of Peter now....

“It wasn’t just a bite, Moony.” Sirius snarled. “You nearly f*cking died, if Reg hadn’t been there- f*ck- I" Sirius cut himself off, pushing to his feet to begin pacing. Remus drew his attention back to the Regulus, who now stood quietly to the side, watching his older brother.

“Why were you there?” Remus asked, snapping the younger man’s attention to himself.

“Harriet attended the infirmary last night, she was disoriented, talking about a snake, she was certain you were injured.” Regulus answered. “It seems she was correct. The snake was incredibly venomous, even with anti-venom you should have died, the benefits of your affliction I suppose.”

“Hari saw it happen?” Remus asked, horrified. After what happened before the summer, Remus had promised himself to never let Hari see his transformation again, not only had she’d seen it, but she’d seen the fight with the snake. How much had she seen? Remus remembered the taste of blood on his tongue as he’d torn the creature in two, he felt his stomach churn at the thought of her bearing witness to it.

“It confirms that Harriet’s visions are indeed that, and not nightmares.” Regulus continues, pushing past the other men's turmoil. “Did you see him? Was he there?”

Remus curled his lip.

“He’s in Hari’s head.” Sirius shuddered, stopping his pacing to slump against a desk.

“Madam Pomfrey’s diagnostics showed dark magic had seeped into Harriet’s magical core, but from what she described, it doesn’t sound like it was intentional.” Regulus added. “It was more like... a magical leak, than someone casting a spell on her.”

“You think it was an accident?” Remus pushed to which Regulus nodded.

“Last time she had a nightmare,” Sirius spoke up, “She said she was seeing it from a snake’s perspective, not Voldemort's.”

“That’s...” Regulus began, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Well, the snake is dead now. It should stop the nightmares?” Sirius asked them both, his eyes darting from Remus to his brother and back.

“I’d like to have a look at the body, I’ll head back to the house today, if we can study it, we might get an answer.“

With that, Regulus left the room, leaving behind a pain potion and some dittany on the bedside. Remus chugged the vial quickly, rising out of bed to grab the clothes folded neatly on a nearby chair. He ignored Sirius, pretending not to feel the prickle of the other man’s gaze on him.

“You didn’t answer me, earlier.” Sirius said eventually, not moving from his perch on the desk across the room. Remus didn’t look at him. A sigh. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Remus answered, tugging on his shirt.

“Liar.” Sirius said with a tiredness Remus felt deep in his bones. Remus sighed, rubbing his face with his palms. He needed a cigarette.

“You should have got the trace.” Remus said, finally turning to look at Sirius, he didn’t look surprised.

“You were dying.” Sirius spoke slowly, his words hard with anger.

“It’s not about me Sirius, we were there to get Peter. To clear your name so we can keep Hari safe.” Remus shouted, frustration leaking out of his damn pores. Sirius looked at him like was mad.

“That’s not something you need to f*cking die for, Remus.” Sirius looked horrified, as Remus scoffed and turned away again. Remus finished dressing, grabbed his wand and went for the door, he hesitated a moment before grabbing the dittany and shoving it in his pocket. “You’re not planning on staying with us, are you?”

Remus froze, his hand on the door frame, he swallowed.

“You f*cking arsehole!” Sirius cried; Remus heard the thud of a book hitting the opposite wall. Remus remained facing the corridor, letting out a sigh before speaking.

“Hari doesn’t need someone like me around, Padfoot.”

“Shut up. Shut the f*ck up.” Sirius cursed, a thud of a boot kicking the desk. “That’s so f*cking stupid and you know it.”

“I nearly f*cking killed her that night, Sirius.” Remus said very quietly. “There’s a reason there’s al those restrictions on people like me, we’re not safe to be around. You’re job is to keep Hari safe, you promised Lily and James, I get in the way of that.”

“You’re wrong- so-” Sirius groaned as he launched forward, grabbing Remus’s sleeve. “You know what James said to me, when he made my Hari’s goddad? He said the only reason Lily agreed to it was cus she knew you’d be there with me. She wanted it to be you and Mary, but James told her not to worry, Moony’ll be there. You’re as much Hari’s goddad as I am Moons. Lily is the smartest person to ever live, if she wanted you around, then it can't be the wrong thing.”

Remus felt his throat clog up. It was just like Lily Evans to put more faith in him that he’d ever deserve. It had been hard enough to know that Lily’d wanted him as secret keeper, but to know she’d had him in mind for if she and James werent there... It made Remus so angry with himself, for letting himself become so distant when Hari was born. There was the war, and the missions from Dumbledore, but he could have made the effort. Maybe if he’d been around more, he might have heard Lily tell him these things himself.

“Have you spoken to Hari? Since last night.” Remus asked with a clear of this throat. Sirius remained silent, and for a moment Remus worried he wouldn’t let him change the subject, til he sighed.

“Yeah, she called few hours ago after she left the infirmary. She wanted to know you were okay, Poppy’s given her something to take at night, it should stop any visions.” He answered, and Remus felt his chest get tight.

They didn’t speak much more as they waited for Regulus to tell them what he found with the snake. A heavy silence strung between the two of them, heavy with their shared frustration. They had no more leads, no more information about where Peter might be. All they could do was wait.

Regulus had never been to Riddle manor before, yet when he landed on the ancient ground, he was hit with a nauseous wave of familiarity. The dark magic lingered on the building like smoke, heavy and smothering. Holding a hankechief to his nose, Regulus pushed past the revulsion and made his way up into the manor. The trail of blood was an easy indicator of where he needed to go, he vanished the evidence as he went. It did no good to leave something as powerful as blood behind, where anyone could find it. The splatters came to an end up in an attic room, it looked as though it may have been a nursey in the past. Now it was just a mess of blood and fur, but no snake.

Regulus used his wand to move the debris, vanishing anything that might hide the creature’s dead parts. There was no doubt it had died in this room, Sirius had said they’d torn it in half, there was no doubt the thing was dead. But minutes passed and Regulus became more desperate in his search, he ended up tearing through the entire attic floor, then the floor below, and then rather frantically, the shrubs sat below the rooms window.

The snake was gone.

Chapter 30

Chapter Text

The castle clock tower rung ominously through the grounds. Inside the great hall music thrummed through the crowd of students, their dancing losing the pretty formality to become a wilder, chaotic thing, the professors lingering with their wands ready to separate the pairs that forgot they were still at school. The hall had looked beautiful, the ceiling a mosaic of glittering ice and snow, the tables overflowing with winter blooms of crocus and jasmine.

The decorations spilled out into the courtyard, strings of lights surrounding the open area, making it feel close and intimate. Warming charms chased away the cool night air and lined the pavements, preventing the snow or ice from sticking.

Hari stood in her sari, the green made her eyes seem even wider as they stared at the girl before her, her borrowed bracelets clinking together musically as she held her hand to her mouth. Dulcinea looked back, seemingly just as shocked, which Hari thought was a bit unfair, what did she have to be surprised about?

Dulcinea wore a white gown, long and flowy, the material looked light as it fluttered around her, she wore her golden hair tied up around her head, almost like a crown. The golden pins in her hair, shaped like little butterflies, only added to the effect. When Hari had first seen her, across the great hall as she entered with Neville and the other champions, she had thought Dulcinea had looked like an angel. Which was stupid because Dulcinea Malfoy was not anything close to angelic, she was mean and selfish and petty. Being the prettiest thing Hari had ever seen didn’t change that.

But Hari had forgotten all the things she was supposed to not like about Dulcinea, maybe that’s why she’d followed her when she’d seen her come to the courtyard alone. She’d just wanted to say hello, to thank her for teaching her the dance, so she didn’t look like a complete idiot. She wanted to see if Dulcinea liked her sari, because for some reason it was important that she did. Hari had muttered some awkward compliments that left her blushing, stuttering out embarrassing things about how her hair looked like real gold.

Then Dulcinea had made it all worse and somehow also better by telling Hari-

“You look like a princess.”

And what did that even mean? Hari had glared at her, assuming Malfoy was poking fun like she always did, Hari didn't look like a princess, not in any of the stories she’d read. But Dulcinea hadn't laughed or smirked, she hadn't been making fun at all. She was blushing and it was warm out in the courtyard, wasn’t it? The heating charms must have been on, and why was she standing so close.

And then Dulcinea had done the unthinkable. So fast Hari might have missed it, except how could she ever miss it, Dulcinea Malfoy kissed her.

Hari froze. She smelt like lemons and spring, and she was kissing her.

Then, as quickly as it started, it ended, and Dulcinea and leapt back with a yelp, as though she had been the one who had been unexpectedly kissed.

The clock bell rung out a twelfth and final time as the two girls stared in horror.

“What the f*ck, Malfoy?” Hari demanded, her surprise and confusion quickly making way for outrage, what the hell did she think she was playing at? Was it some kind of prank? Hari glanced around for witnesses, any sign of Parkinson and Bulstrode smirking in the bushes with a camera. Hari horrified at the thought of someone seeing, of Skeeter finding out, it being on the front page of the prophet – Harriet Potter is a lesbian. She wasn’t. She had a boyfriend, she had just danced with him in front of the whole school, they all saw it, they had to know she wasn't like that. But here Malfoy was looking so beautiful that Hari had forgotten how cruel she could be, that she would steal Hari’s first kiss just to- what? What even was the point?

“I-” Malfoy wasn't smirking, wasn't pointing and laughing, in fact she looked as horrified as Hari felt, which didn't make sense. Hari hadn’t kissed her. She wouldn't do that. She didn’t want to do that. “I’m so sorry.” Dulcinea finally sputtered out. Which might be the first and only time Dulcinea Malfoy had ever apologies to Hari, before she couldn't even begin to process it, the other girl had turned and ran.

“What? Malfoy- wait!” Hari demanded, because she needed an explanation damn it, but Malfoy was already back in the hall with the rest of the students, beyond Hari’s reach and leaving her shocked and angry, and very very alone.

The night of the Yule Ball started like this – Hari had her twice weekly appointment with Madam Pomfrey (a provision put in place since the night with the snake). During this appointment, Hari would nod yes, she was drinking her potion every night, no she hadn’t had any more nightmares – in fact, she hadn't had any dreams at all. It was the last appointment of the year, and Pomfrey told Hari she didn’t have to come back, but only if she promised to let the mediwitch know if anything changed. Hari agreed happily, eager to have Tuesday and Friday afternoons back. Freed from the infirmary, Hari made her way back to the tower to pass the few hours before the ball.

Hari had planned to spend some time in lounging in the common room, maybe get a few games of gobstones in, maybe listen to the rerun of a Canons match from earlier in the week. Instead, what happened is Hari went to drop off her things in her dorm room, to find it completely taken over by every Gryffindor girl that remained at the castle. Hermione sat on her own bed, surrounded by Angelina Johnson and Teagan Alderwood - the Hufflepuff prefect. On the bed beside her – Hari’s bed – Ginny had made herself at home, her tongue stuck out as she painted Luna Lovegood’s nails. Across the room, the Patil twins were straightening their hair, whilst Lavender Brown sculpted her eyebrows.

“Hello Hari.” Luna greeted brightly, the first to notice her arrival. Hari frowned as she came into the room fully.

“I thought it started at six?” Hari asked, looking to the clock on the mantel, it was only four o’clock.

“Oh well the fourth years need more time because they all have such lovely hair, and Ginny and I thought we might join in.” Luna answered happily. “There’s something so therapeutic about getting ready as a group, don’t you think?” She asked in that way she did, where if it were anyone else asking you would assume it were rhetorical, but with Luna, she always seemed to want an answer.

“Er- maybe? I mean, are you having fun?” Hari asked, gesturing to Ginny, who was once again vanishing spilt nail varnish from the blonde’s fingers with a frustrated huff. Luna glanced at Ginny, as if only just remembering she was there, then smiled back at Hari.

“Yes, I think I am.”

Hari could never help from smiling at Luna. Ginny groaned again as she somehow got the paint under Luna’s nail, Hari frowned.

“Would you like me to do that? I’m pretty good at keeping it neat.” Hari offered, to Ginny’s surprise. The youngest Weasley didn’t argue, clearly eager to be free of the task she jumped from the bed and grabbed her make up bag and set up in front of a mirror leant on the foot of the bed.

Hari took her spot and began applying the powdery pink polish Luna had chosen.

Hari used to hate painting Aunt Petunia nails, she hated the smell of the varnish and the feel of acetone on her fingertips, how her aunt would always make such a fuss when Hari got even a little off the nail. It was not a moment of bonding, but another way in which Hari was reminded of her place in the Dursley household. Hari had hated seeing painted nails ever since. That was until that summer when she found Sirius in the sitting room, a bottle of black polish sat in front of him, him cross legged on the floor as he tried to paint his neat nails with shaking hands.

Sirius who didn’t make Hari do the cooking and cleaning, then take credit. Who, instead, would race to do the laundry before she got the chance, who still wouldn’t tell her where he’d hidden the vacuum. Sirus who never ordered Hari to do anything, Sirius who called her Pup and gave her hugs and never called her a liar or a freak.

That Sirius sat on the carpet and cursed himself in frustration, unable to keep his hands still, spilling the black paint on the floor.

Hari didn’t say anything as she sat down opposite him, taking his scarred hand and began to pain his nails. And when she got some on his finger, there was no cruel words or clips on the ear, just Sirius telling her to leave it, because it looked cooler that way. Afterwards he painted hers, and got the polish everywhere, his shaky fingers painting her skin. Hari told him not to clean it, she liked it better that way.

Hari didn’t think Luna was going for the punk rocker look, so she made sure to keep them as neat as she could, tidying them as she went. Maybe there was something therapeutic about it, when doing it for someone voluntarily, who was in turn grateful, rather than judgemental and demanding. When she was done, Luna smiled down at her pretty hands and thanked Hari, before returning the favour.

Luna’s hands were steady and precise as she applied a shiny dark green paint to Hari’s nails, a colour she picked to match the Sari she still hadn’t figured out how to put on.

Thankfully, Hari’s anxiety around the traditional dress was quelled when she saw the Patil twins pull out two similar looking garments and agreed happily to help Hari dress.

When Hari had tried to wrap the fabric around herself before, she thought it had looked nice, a little awkward and not very comfortable, but pretty. Now, stood in the bathroom beside the other two girls, Hari thought the dress look beautiful, the green and gold swirling around her like water, delicate and rich. Hari had never thought she was very nice to look at, but in that moment when Padma called her lovely, a part of her thought she could be right.

Pravati and Padma had jewellery to match their sari’s, and Padma had a gold set of bangles that she let Hari borrow, Hari liked the sound they made as they rattled on her wrists. But it was the rings the two girls put in their noses that Hari’s attention was caught by, it reminded her of the piercings her Appammaa wore in her portrait, with a gold chain that led from her ear to her nose.

“Is that common then, in India?” Hari asked, her gaze transfixed.

“Yeah, our aunties all have it, why?” Pravati answered, she caught Hari’s eye in the mirror as she applied a maroon lipstick, matching her dress. “Do you want one?” Her eye glimmered with something that looked a lot like a dare. Hari grinned.

“f*ck yes I do.”

Getting your nose and ears pierced, it turns out, bloody hurt. Even when done with the help of magic. But with healing spells the pain was short lived, and definitely worth it, as Hari came out of the bathroom with the other two girls, and a golden band in her nose, tied with a matching chain to a piercing in her left ear, and a grin on her face.

She couldn’t wait to show Sirius.

It turned out that not only did the girls need the extra hours to get ready, but they were all running late when they finally began the descent to the common room. Hari could see why, Hermione’s hair had been folded and twisted around the side of her head into shiny black braids, then neatly tucked in a round bun, held together with enough pins to arm a small militia of mice. The effect was worth it though, as Hermione beamed, her baby blue dress pretty and cloudlike as it floated down her. Hari could hear Ron complaining loudly about the girls bring late down the stairs, but as soon as they arrived, he didn’t say a peep as they walked into view. Luna – his date for the evening – didn’t seem to mind a bit that he didn’t notice her step to his side.

“She looks like the queen of the butterflies, doesn’t she?” The blonde had asked, and Hari couldn’t help but agree, she felt a swell of pride, she wanted to show her friend off, to show them how pretty her friend was.

Neville wore a black robe set, his hair combed down with gel as he greeted Hari shyly, Hari smiled when he offered his arm, but wished he’d look at her rather than the ground. Hermione’s mystery date still wasn’t there, and she still refused to say. It wasn’t until they reached the great hall that they finally found out who it was.

Hari didn’t think she’d ever seen such a mix of horror and betrayal on anyone's face before, as when she saw Ron watch Viktor Krum take Hermione’s hand in his.

But that wasn’t pairing that drew all the attention, no, all eyes were on Fleur Delacour and her date. The Beuaxboiwhf champion was attending the Yule Ball with Cho Chang.

Hari didn’t even take the time to wonder who Cedric had taken, as she was certain he and Cho were together. No, all thoughts of the Hufflepuff boy were out the window, as she watched Cho take Fleur’s hand in hers, and kiss her on the cheek.

“Wow.” She heard Neville say beside. “That’s- that’s very sweet.” He’d said, Hari snapped her head to him.

“Sweet?” She squeaked out. Was it sweet? What was sweet about it. Hari had never heard anything about two girls together being called sweet before. No, two girls together was ugly and gross, it was for attention, and it was weird. Freaks. Aunt Petunia had called them. And it wasn’t a muggle thing either, she remembered the disgust on Lavender Brown’s face when she’d called Hermione a lesbian.

Your parents just wanted us to be happy. Remus had said to her. Remus and Sirius were two men in love, and that was okay, clearly, her parents had thought so, and so did Mary. But that was two boys, two men.

Why was that different?

“Yeah, don’t you think? To be so brave about something people can be so mean about?” Neville answered, still looking at the two girls who were now walking into the hall, leading the champions into their dance.

Brave. They were being brave. Hari felt an immense wave of nauseous anxiety then, as she watched the crowd of students react to the couple, terrified what everyone would say, what they might do to these two girls.

When Hari and Neville finally entered the hall, at the end of the line of champions, Hari’s eyes fell onto a figure across the hall.

Blonde hair swirled around her head like a crown, intertwined with golden ribbon, curled strands fell down pale shoulders, from which hung white fabric that fell like air down a tall figure. Hari’s mind was filled of images of Greek statues of goddesses and angels.

Dulcinea Malfoy stood eyes wide and mouth agape, staring at the two girls, it took only a moment for her to recover from her shock, before her face fell into a look Hari imagined matched her own completely. Fear. Then grey blue eyes met her own, and something passed between the two of them, and for just a second Hari thought the other girl had seen something deep and buried and secret within herself, something she didn’t know was there. Then the music started, and the moment ended.

The night of the Yule ball ended like this – Hari stumbled into the common room to find Ron and Hermione arguing – she had no idea what about, only that it ended with Hermione storming off, though she grabbed a bewildered Hari’s wrist first, dragging her along up to their dorm.

“He’s such an idiot! Unbelievable, pig-headed-“ Hermione grunted as she pulled off the short little heels she’d worn, leaving Hari stood in the doorway. “Boys are so- they’re just-!” The strap of the heel got tangled, resulting in it being tugged off and thrown violently at the far wall. Hari stared at the abandoned shoe on the ground. “And where were you? No one could find you, Neville was worried he’d upset you.”

Hermione turned her wraith to Hari, who turned to the other girl, wide eyed. Hermione’s eyes were red, she was crying.

“Are you okay?” Hari asked stupidly.

Hermione wiped her eyes, huffing to compose herself.

“Of course.” She dismissed. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I was with Malfoy.” Hari answered honestly, it was the first time she had answered when asked. Hermione looked shocked.

“What were you doing?” Hermione recovered surprisingly quickly, argument with Ron and disobedient shoes forgotten. Hari shrugged.

“Just talking.” She said, meekly.

Hermione nodded.

“Let’s get out of these clothes.”

Hermione pulled Hari along to the bathroom, and together they wiped the sticky residue of make up from their skin, Hari brushed out her hair whilst Hermione removed pins from hers. Showered and pyjamaed, they climbed into Hermione’s bed, behind the thick curtain Hari felt she could breathe again.

“I’ve been friends with her for a while.” Hari admitted into the darkness, she couldn’t see, but the rustle of fabric told her Hermione was nodding. “In secret, cus her dad y’know…”

There was quiet.

“Is that the only reason?” Hermione prompted. Hari should have guessed Hermione wouldn’t be surprised at the revelation, she always did know everything.

“I didn’t want anyone to know either, I was worried you’d hate me, she’s been so awful to you.” Hari confessed.

“She’s not a very nice person.” Hermione said slowly. Hari didn’t argue, how could she? Malfoy would say it herself, she was not nice, she wasn’t even good. Hermione then asked the obvious question: “Why would you want to be friends with her? With someone like that?”

“I don’t know.” Hari answered, as honest as she could. Because she didn’t know, she didn’t know why it was so important, why she needed to know there was a part of Malfoy only she had access to, why she always looked for the other girl in a room full of people. Hari didn’t know and she truly didn’t want to, she was too terrified to know.

“You know you can tell me anything, Hari? There’s nothing you can do or say that will make me not your best friend? Ron as well.” Hermione grasped Hari’s hand tight under the covers, Hari felt her throat shake with emotion, she nodded.

It took hours for them to fall asleep, laying side by side in the small bed, whispering about the night. Hemione finally talked about Krum, how he asked her as soon as the ball was announced, she told Hari the reason she’d kept it a secret – that she’d been worried it was a cruel trick up until the very last moment when he’d taken her hand. Hermione told Hari how she’d felt like she was flying when he’d danced with her, that he had kissed her as he said goodnight.

It was on the tip of Hari’s tongue, to tell her about her own kiss, but it never found its way out. Instead she listened to the lull of Hermione’s voice, falling asleep to her complaining about Ron, and how if boys just talked about their feelings things would be so much easier. Hari thought idly that some girls could benefit from that advice too.

Chapter 31: I wanna have control

Chapter Text

That Christmas, there were more students at Hogwarts than any of Hari’s previous years at school, even when half of them had left after breakfast. Fourth years and older who only stayed for the ball, heading back home to their families at the first opportunity. Hermione was one such student this year, leaving Ron and Hari to fend for themselves.

Hari wasn’t sure why she expected to see Malfoy that morning; the girl hadn’t even come to breakfast. She’d hoped to catch her, to confront her about the previous night, but she should have known Malfoy would have run at the first opportunity.

But that was fine, because Hari didn’t want to see her anyway. She was going to spend Christmas with Neville this year – his grandma had agreed to let him stay after the ball – and that was exiting, to be able to spend time with her boyfriend outside of term time. Though it was off to a rough start when Neville had presented her with a gift at breakfast – a soft toy shaped like an owl, a match to Hedwig that fit in the palm of her hand – and Hari could only stutter at him that she hadn’t gotten him anything in return.

Neville had insisted it was fine, that he saw it in town and thought of her. But his assurances had only made it worse, she had been in Hogsmead this year, and she hadn’t once seen something she thought he might like. This resulted in Hari dragging Ron along to the edge of the woods in a hunt for any plants that looked interesting, but not homicidal.

“Hari it’s freezing! There aren’t going to be any plants alive at this point.” Ron complained loudly, kicking a mound of snow. “Just get him a chocolate frog when the shops open later this week.”

Hari ignored Ron’s complaining to poke around some shrubs for anything still flowrering.

“C’mon, I’m bored.”

Hari sighed.

“Go inside then if you like, I’ll be in soon.” Hari told him, stomping further down the path, they weren’t in the forest per say, but definitely closer than most would go. Ron let out a heavy sigh, but didn’t head back to the warmth of the castle.

She had to find him something, she’d even thought about giving Neville one of the many presents from the pile of gifts at the foot of her bed this morning. She’d had a gift from Remus – new quills and books – and Mary – some new clothes that looked much prettier than what Petunia used to hand down to her. But the sheer avalanche of things Sirius had given her was obscene, new quidditch gear- gloves and boots, a practice snitch, broom oil, as well as a years subscription to Quidditch weekly. It was more than Hari had ever been given, and it was honestly a bit too much. She’d already sent things back with Hedwig, to stay a the house during the summer, because there was no way she was wearing custom robes during practice. And she planned to share with Ron whatever she could. But Neville wouldn’t use a broom care kit, Hari didn’t think he liked quidditch at all. He might have liked the notebooks Remus had sent, but Hari could never regift something from Remus.

It wasn’t that she valued Sirius’s gifts any less, not in the slightest, there was just so much of it, as though he’d simply walked into a quidditch supply shop and asked for one of everything. Which…. Actually might have been what he did. Remus however, Hari knew spent almost all of his time thinking, the werewolf never made any decision without spending a good amount of time weighing every possibility he could. The complete opposite of the impulsive Sirius. Because of this, Hari knew that Remus had chosen each book and quill with the utmost care, that he had chosen them specifically for her.

This left Hari with no other option, with nothing to hand and Hogsmead closed, she had dragged Ron out to the woods to find something to put in the pot they’d pilfered from the greenhouses. This was proving to be much less simple than she had originally thought. Ron was also not the ideal person to help with her task, and made her wish that Luna – who seemed to have some otherworldly understanding of all things natural – or Hermoine, who simply knew everything, hadn’t both gone home for Christmas.

“We’re going to miss Christmas dinner at this rate.” Ron grumbled, “Neville won’t mind that you haven’t got him anything, he knows you’ve been busy with the tournament.”

Hari huffed, stomping further into the woods. Ron was quick to follow after her.

“C’mon Hari, what’s this really about?” He pushed, pulling Hari up short.

“Nothing.” She answered quickly. “I just want to be a good girlfriend.” She tacked on, which was true, she hadn’t been a very good girlfriend to Neville, she never really has time for him, and she finds she often just…. Forgets about him, which is horrible to admit. She didn’t even think about getting him a gift, not to mention she all but abandoned him at the Yule Ball the night before, too busy worrying about Malfoy of all things.

She didn’t want to think about Dulcinea Malfoy, she spent far too much of her time worrying about her, when she should be spending time thinking about more important things. Like a gift for her boyfriend.

“Just because you didn’t get him a present doesn’t make you a bad girlfriend, Hari.” Ron argued. “Neville didn’t even seem to mind.”

Hari shrugged, looking away from her friend.

“I-“ She paused, shuffling her feet. “I think maybe – something happened that might make me a bad girlfriend.”

“What, did you forget his birthday too?” Ron asked, “When even is his birthday?”

“You know it’s the day before mine.” Hari answered with a roll of her eyes. She hesitated before continuing. “Someone kissed me at the Ball last night.” Hari admitted, her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. She hadn’t told Hermione, because Hermione would know in a second that it was Malfoy, but Ron didn’t know that Hari and the Slytherin had had an uneasy friendship over the last year.

“What?!” Ron demanded, fully taken aback. “Who?”

Hari shifted uncomfortably.

“I can’t tell you.” Hari answered, somewhat apologetically. “I – don’t want to embarrass them.” She explained, hoping Ron won’t take offense at her secretiveness.

“Does Hermione know who it is?” He asked. Hari shook her head.

“I haven’t told her.”

“Right well….” Ron hesitated, “Do you like them?”

Hari paused, caught off guard by the question, it should be a simple answer, because she knows Ron is asking her if she likes them. The answer should be automatic, it should be an easy ‘no’, because that’s the truth, of course it is. And yet…

“I didn’t want them to kiss me, and I didn’t kiss them back.” Hari tells him, because it’s true.

“Do you want me to hit him?” Ron asks after a short pause. Hari looks at him like he’s mad.

“Neville? Why on earth would I want you to hit Neville?” Hari asks. Ron snorts a laugh.

“Not Neville, obviously. This bloke I mean! You can’t go around kissing girls who don’t want you to kiss them, it’s not on.” Ron explains, like its obvious. Hari blushes, of course Ron would assume it’s a boy, and she’s happy for him to think that.

“If I wanted them punched, I’d do it myself.” Hari answers instead. “Or I’d have Hermione do it.” She adds with a grin, which makes Ron laugh.

On their way back to the castle, after Hari finally found a suitable gift – a cluster of red, rose-like flowers, their bulbs replanted into the pot she now carried with muddy hands – Ron interrupted their quiet walk home.

“You should probably tell Neville about it, if you’re worried about being a bad girlfriend.”

Hari sighed.

“Do I have to?” She asked, it wasn’t a whine, but it wasn’t not a whine either.

“Well I don’t know,” Ron huffed, scratching his chin. “but if Hermione were here…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence, because they both knew what the other girl would say, the patron saint of honesty.

Hari sighed.

“I’ll think about it.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t not a lie either.

Neville, it turned out, was very happy to receive the potted plant. Though he did express some concerns with Hari’s repotting methods, Begonias, he said they were, right before excitedly telling her all the different spots in the garden at home they could go.

The rest of the Christmas break passes in a blur of snow swept quidditch matches and evenings of gorging on chocolate, as all Christmas holidays should. Hari feels guilty for thinking it, but she was somewhat glad Hemrione had gone home for the holidays, as much as she loved her best friend, it was nice to have a break from having to work so hard on everything all the time. Whether it be homework, the tournament, or dealing with all the complicated Malfoy stuff- it was nice to spend time only doing what she wanted to do, rather than what she should do, if just for a little while.

But all good things must come to and end, and that end is brought about the day after New Years, in the shape of an article by Rita Skeeter.

THE GIRL WHO LIVED… IN A CUPBOARD?

Hari stares at the paper in front of her, the buzz of the great hall fading to static as her eyes try to understand what she’s seeing.

“Hari…” Ron is speaking but Hari isn’t listening, her hands shake as she pulls it closer, the words too fuzzy to focus on, she can only catch glimpses.

…neglectful muggle relatives…

…evidence of physical and psychological abuse…

…locked in a cupboard under the stairs…

Starved.

Beaten.

Abandoned.

No.

No no no.

Nononononononono.

No one was supposed to know about that, no one was supposed to know. The evidence was for the court only. Mary promised her. They would find out about the custody change, Hair knew it was inevitable, but this.

Hari’s chest caved in, it must have, because why else did it feel so tight. Her lungs had no room, she couldn’t get in any air, she couldn’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

SHE CAN’T BREATHE.

Hari was in the infirmary. She wasn’t sure how she got to the room, or how long she’d been there, but that’s were she found herself, after the potion Madam Pomfrey pushed to her lips took hold. It felt like a cool trickle of water down her throat and over her shoulders, down to her chest and belly, until her entire body felt loose and soft. She blinked at the mediwitch in front of her, and found her eyes wet with tears, her whole face felt tight and red from crying. Had she been crying? She hadn’t noticed.

Ron was stood at the foot of the hospital bed, looking sickly pale and terrified.

“There a spider?” Hari asked him, her head tilted to the side in question.

“What?” He asked, he frowned, but in a tired way, he looked sad.

“Spider? I can get it for you, don’t need to be scared.” Hari assured him, because Ron only ever looked that colour when there was a spider nearby, and he always needed her to get rid of them for him.

“I believe Mr Weasley was just worried for you.” Madam Pomfrey interjected, drawing Hari’s attention back. Hari turned her head, but it felt slow and heavy. Pomfrey smiled wryly. “You were having a very severe panic attack, Harriet. Do you remember?”

Hari frowned.

“I feel fine.” She told her. Though she did feel as thought she was sat in a very large vat of treacle, her body and mind feeling sticky and sweet. That was probably strange, because she was upset a few minutes ago, wasn’t she? Yes, the article. She frowned, it certainly made her unhappy, she didn’t want so much of her life to be made public, for everyone to know what life with the Dursley’s had been like. They all thought she was strange enough already, she was tired of it. She was so tired of everything. “Can I go to sleep now?” Hari asked the mediwitch, blinking slowly to try and clear the fuzziness of her vision.

“Of course, dear.”

Mary was going to wring the evil woman’s wrinkly old neck. She expressed this first to Joe, as she opened the newspaper at breakfast, then to Remas, when she charged into his cottage to highjack his floo. Then to Penflitch, when she used said floo to storm into his office. The lawyer assured the furious woman that there was no legal way for Skeeter to have gotten the information, she didn’t care that this was good news, she didn’t care that this gave them ‘good legal standing’. Mary didn’t want to sue the prophet, she wanted Skeeter in prison. She wanted her to spend the rest of her days rotting in a hole somewhere, for everything the hateful bitch had ever written to be burnt and forgotten. She wanted for Hari to have never been subjected to the cruelty the wizarding world was capable of. She wanted to take her far away so they can never hurt her again.

Penflitch didn’t get the chance to try and sooth Mary’s righteous anger, because Regulus had flooed, and Hari had needed her.

Hari was sleeping now, peacefully even, though this was no doubt thanks to the calming draught Madam Pomfrey had administered. Mary wasn’t too pleased at Hari essentially being sedated, but from the sounds of it, it had been necessary. Seeing her now, the clear bruises on her palms, marks from her nails digging into her own flesh to the point of drawing blood. Her heart ached to see it, the pain she must have been in, and Mary could do nothing. Too far away to help her. She felt so powerless, the court proceedings were taking far too long, the interviews and assessments she’d had to go through for her to even be considered to be a suitable guardian. Mary knew it was because of the distance she’d put between herself and the wizarding world, and she hated herself for it now, for how difficult it has made it for her to be there for Hari.

“Mary?” A voice whispered thickly, drawing her from her worries. Hari had woken, looking groggy with sleep as she pushed herself up to sitting. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello Hari,” Mary smiled, heavy with affection. “I came to see you, Madame Pomfrey told me you were quite upset by what was in the Prophet this morning.”

Hari frowned, looking down at he hands, she shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“No it is not, Hari.” Mary told her, leaning forward to try and catch the teenagers averted gaze. “That information being made public is wrong, it should not have happened, and I am sorry.” Mary felt her throat get tight with emotion. “I’m so sorry that it happened.”

A sniff.

“How did she find out?”

“I don’t know.” Mary sighed, exhaustion setting into her very bones, God it wasn’t even eleven yet. “Mr Penflitch thinks she might have stolen documents from the courts. We’ll find out for certain, and we’ll make sure she faces the consequences.”

Hari nods to this, though she doesn’t seem effected by the statement.

“They all saw it.” Hari says after a beat. “Everyone at breakfast, the whole school will hear about it eventually. Everyone will know.” And Mary could hardly stand the defeat in the young girl’s voice.

“I’m so sorry, Hari.” Mary grasps her hands in her own. “I will speak with Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, perhaps ban the article from school, something.”

Hari shakes her head.

“It will make it worse.”

Mary doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Because she has no answers for Hari, no way of undoing this horrible thing that’s happened to her. What she wants to do is take her out of school for the term, have her at home, away from all of this. But Mary is not her mother, and until the courts allow it, she is not her parent. She has no rights to protect Hari how she wants to, instead she can only hold her hand, and comfort her in the very small way she can. After a long while of quiet and comfort, Mary notices.

"Harriet Potter. Is that anose ring?"

Meanwhile, in her bedroom in Oxfordshire, Hermione sets to work. Armed with a copy of every Skeeter article from the last four months, as well as a copy of the animagus registry, she begins the meticulous research she needs to ensure that Rita Skeeter regrets ever even saying the name Harriet Potter.