Chapter Text

THE DARKEST STAR

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PART III

Nebula Clouds

Chapter 1

The Dursleys had locked Harry in for the night, and that left him with nothing to do but practise Occlumency. He stared at a pattern on his ceiling, focused on the sound of raindrops against the window panes, and fought to clear his mind of everything. Snippets of thoughts refused to leave—memories of the graveyard, the gnawing ache in his stomach, the lingering anger over his relatives' latest abuses. Still, he carried on. Severus' life depended on it.

Slowly, a cool sensation built around his head. Merlin, he was doing it!

"Yes!"

His excitement chased the shield away, but now Harry knew he could Occlude. The next attempt would be easier.

He quieted his emotions and tried again, but just as the shield began to coalesce, a scratch at his window had him bolting up. Had Hermione already found their books? He had expected it to take a few days at least. 

No, that black form wasn't a post owl. If Harry didn't know any better, he would think it was a cat. How in the world?

The cat scratched at the window again, and in fear of his relatives waking and killing it, Harry let it in. Probably just wanted out of the rain, poor thing. 

A soaked black tomcat jumped into the room and shook out his fur. Hedwig gave him a suspicious look and clicked her beak.

"Hi there, little kitty." Harry knelt and took off his shirt. "Sorry I don't have anything better to dry you with. I'm locked in, you see, so I can't get to the towels. I don't have any food either, but this should help a little, yeah?" 

He dragged his tatty t-shirt over the cat's fur, and the beast butted his hand and purred. 

"You're a handsome chap, aren't you?" The cat preened, showing off a sleek coat of black fur with some kind of scar on his left foreleg and a white star at his throat.

Hedwig made a low sound of annoyance. 

"It's all right, Hedwig. He's just trying to get out of the weather." 

The cat wriggled free of Harry with a mew and leapt onto the desk in front of Hedwig's cage. He sniffed her and lay before her, posture submissive and ears flat against his head.

"I don't think he means us any harm, girl."

Hedwig nudged him, and, when the cat only butted his head into her and purred, the owl finally relaxed. A low, quiet hoot seemed to ease the cat's nerves, and he jumped down to nuzzle Harry's leg again.

"So you've made friends now, yeah? That's good." 

Harry rubbed the cat's back and scratched above his tail, like most cats liked. This one, however, jumped and squirmed away. 

"Don't like that, huh? All right." Harry petted the cat's head instead. "Better?" 

The cat purred. 

"I should call you Midnight since that's when you showed up. And, you know, you're a black cat." 

The cat gave him what could only be an unamused look.

"No? How about Shadow then?"

The cat purred and rubbed his hand.

"Well, Shadow it is."

Harry gasped as the cat suddenly grew and shifted, and then there was a tall, wet human in his bedroom. Hedwig gave a surprised squawk.

"Merlin! Severus?"

"Yes. Muffliato Quietus." Severus flicked his wand and cast several of the same wards he used on his office when speaking to Harry. "Forgive the deception. I did not know of any other way to sneak in here undetected, and I fear you will need extra protection from now on." The professor cast a drying charm over his sopping hair and clothes, cleaned and dried Harry's shirt, and handed it back to him. "Put that on, though I thank you for caring for me."

Harry swallowed hard and scrambled to his feet. "Uh, s-sorry, Severus. I didn't know it was you."

"Be careful of unknown animals. Particularly animals that seem too intelligent for their kind." Severus gave Hedwig a quick bow. "Hello, Hedwig. I am Professor Severus Snape, Harry's potions instructor and mind magic tutor. I am a spy in this war, and vow-sworn to protect your wizard. I care very much about him and mean neither you nor Harry any harm."

Hedwig eyed him, then bobbed her head. Severus offered her his hand and smiled a little as she rubbed against his fingers. "Thank you for your trust." He turned back to the boy and smoothed Harry's hair. "How are you?"

"I'm… okay." Harry's stomach grumbled, and the boy blushed. "Well, I'm not hurt anyway."

Severus flicked his wand, and a basket flew from his pocket and settled on the desk. "I will return the day after tomorrow to refill this and check on you. How is your Occlumency practise coming?"

"I think I got it, sir. Just before you dropped in. Well, I don't imagine that shield would hold for long. It fell when I got excited about it, but it's progress at least."

"Well done. Keep practicing."

"I will. Are—are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Severus shook his head. "I am well enough." He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry about me, child. I have been doing this longer than you have been alive."

Harry nodded. "Not sure I can help that."

"Try. I do not wish to add to your troubles."

Harry smiled. "You don't. So you're an animagus? How long?"

"Tonight was my first run. I finished the potions this morning. I would like you to learn as well. Your potions are in the basket."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really? Merlin. Thank you!" He cocked his head. "So I named your animagus form?"

"Shadow suits a spy quite well, I think."

Harry grinned. "So it does." He hesitated. "Um, do you reckon you could visit me sometimes? As Shadow, I mean, if you can't be yourself."

Severus smirked. "Actually, I had planned to be your 'pet.' A familiar, if you will, given I will be protecting you."

Harry gaped. "Really? But how will I explain your disappearances?"

"Simply tell them I am an alley cat you rescued over the summer who likes to come and go."

"Oh. Yeah, that could work. Crookshanks likes to have his space, too, and he was never an alley cat." Harry frowned. "He'll know you're not a cat though. Crookshanks. He's part kneazle, and he knew about Pettigrew and Black. Hedwig obviously knew, too."

The owl bobbed her head.

Severus rubbed under her chin, and the bird gave a contented little sigh. "Hedwig accepted me. Let us hope Crookshanks will, too. If not, I will simply avoid him. In the meantime, please eat and take those potions while I am here to observe."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Could… you be Shadow though? Only it's a little embarrassing. And if my relatives come…."

Severus shifted into his cat form and wove between Harry's legs. Harry grinned and rubbed the cat's head. 

"That's brilliant." He scratched behind Shadow's ears and settled at the desk. "Right. Thank you, Severus. Let's see what you've got in here. Oh, bacon sandwiches? Brilliant." He nibbled on one and offered Shadow a piece. "You want some?"

Shadow took the bite and ate with far more grace than most of his kind with a bit of bacon under their nose.

"You'll give yourself away like that. An alley cat would snatch that right out of my hand and devour it."

Shadow gave a low growl.

Harry snickered. "Well, it's true. Try it again." He offered Shadow another piece. Shadow grabbed this one and ran across the room with it, but his tail twitched in annoyance.

"Well done. That's much more convincing."

Shadow purred and nuzzled Harry's legs. He refused another bite and gave Harry a stern look. 

"All right. Just didn't know if you were hungry, too." Harry finished the rest of his sandwich and a second on Shadow's urging. "Okay, I'm officially stuffed. Now which of these do I take first?"

Severus shifted and guided Harry through the process. In a few moments Harry felt an itch at the base of his spine, and suddenly, he was staring up at Severus from all fours. Severus conjured a mirror, and Harry blinked at his appearance. 

Just like Severus, he had turned into a black tomcat with a white star at his throat, only he had a thin scar on his forehead instead of his paw, and he had a bit of growing to do before he was fully mature. 

"Hm." Severus stroked Harry's head. "You are a lovely cat, Harry."

Harry nuzzled his hand and rubbed his back along Severus' palm. Ooh. That felt wonderful. Harry's purr vibrated his entire chest. 

"Yes, you do like that, hm?" 

Merlin, yes. Another long stroke nearly turned Harry's knees to water. Severus scratched under Harry's chin instead. 

"If you are to pose as a cat I am friendly with on occasion, I will need to give you a convincing name. Hades?"

'That had better be a joke.' Harry glared up at him, and Severus smirked. 

"No? How about Spawn?"

Harry growled.

Severus chuckled and petted Harry's head. "I am only teasing, child. What do you think of… hm. Loki?"

'The trickster god? I guess it suits a cat. Especially a cat in disguise.'

Harry tried to tell him yes, but it came out as a mew. Interesting. 

"To change back, focus on your human form and chant Humanis in your head."

Harry obeyed, and he grew into human size again. "Wicked! Thanks, Severus."

Severus rubbed Harry's hair. "Well done. Now, catch me up. What has happened since we last spoke?"

Harry hesitated. "I had to ask Ron and Hermione to learn Occlumency. They know too much, and I was afraid Dumbledore might read them if he can't read me."

"A wise precaution." Severus rubbed his chin. "Hm. I could not convince anyone that Granger deserves regular detention. Perhaps extra credit studies? No, no one would believe I would offer it to a Gryffindor either. Hm."

"Just teach me, Severus. Teach me, and I'll teach them as I learn from you."

Severus nodded. "Once it is safe enough to tell them of me, tell Granger to act out in potions once a month or so, so I have a reason to check on her progress. Weasley, I think, will not need the excuse."

Harry snorted. "No, probably not." He took Severus' hand. "Severus, how are you? Has he hurt you again?"

"Not yet. I am currently tasked with brewing poisons. Thankfully, they are all Draught of Living Death disguised as whatever poison he has requested. As well, there are several aurors in the Order who know how to recognise and handle my work."

"Well done, Severus. That's brilliant. But… will the survivors be able to reveal you?"

"No. They are relocated through the Order and Obliviated of their ordeals. It isn't ideal, but the alternative is the murder of thousands of innocents, and I could not live with such blood staining my hands."

"Did—before you were a spy…?"

Severus closed his eyes. "I did many things I regret. What I will say in my favour is that, prior to my employment under Albus, I was still seeking my mastery and not yet qualified to handle the Dark Lord's poisons."

Harry squeezed Severus' hand. "I think I'd forgive you either way."

Severus swallowed hard. "You are mad, Harry."

Harry chuckled. "Maybe, but it's still true."

Severus wrapped him in a gentle embrace. "Thank you."

Harry hugged him back and relished the safety and peace he found in his arms. 

Shadow was out doing his job, and Harry spent the night studying under the warded area Severus had set up for him. His relatives wouldn't see his work while Harry sat at his repaired desk, only a bored, lonely teenager, as they would expect to find. Merlin, but he was looking forward to having his summer work done well and on time for once.

He had just finished his essay for Charms when a tapping at the window brought his head around. 

"Ah, and there's Hermione." Harry let the post owl inside and relieved him of his burden. "I've a few owl treats if you'd like one before you go home?"

The owl bobbed his head, and Harry offered him a treat from the hole under the floorboards. "There you are. Help yourself."

While the post owl gobbled a few treats and took his leave, Harry tore into the parcel Hermione had sent with a relish. Along with a box of French snacks, owl food for Hedwig, a charcoal beret and matching scarf, and a miniature model of the Eiffel Tower, Harry found three books and a letter. He nibbled a macaron and opened the letter first.

Harry, 

Sent along some treats. The butter biscuits are sugar-free, but they're surprisingly good for all that. I've become rather hopelessly addicted to them. The petit eclairs are delightful as well, but definitely more indulgent. There are plenty of savoury options, too. It should help keep you going between meals anyway, though I know it's not much.

As to our personal project, I've done some preliminary research into life debts, and it's positively fascinating. You'll find more information in chapters 24-27 of Ancient Bonds and Vows and in chapter 30 of Magie de la Vie. The shopkeeper put a translation charm on the latter, so it might not read perfectly, but it should be close enough to get the gist. 

You should really learn French and Latin, you know. It's rather important for British magicals. A basic grasp of Irish and Scottish Gaelic wouldn't hurt either, but I do know we have enough to study as is without worrying about languages—particularly so now that Voldemort is back and breathing down our necks.

Still, Latin could help us work on spellcrafting. And I do wish you'd take up Ancient Runes and Magical Theory this year. I know Arithmancy isn't your thing, but I know it well enough. I was thinking if you took Runes and Theory, with Ron's strategic mind, your experience, and my technical knowledge, we could invent our own protective spells, and that would be an immense advantage against the dark, especially if we can convince Ron to take at least those two classes with you. Knowing he can use them to make his own magic might do it

Hm. That wasn't such a bad idea. Perhaps Severus would be willing to tutor him in Latin and Runes, at least enough to catch him up to OWL level. He would ask the next time Shadow visited. Hermione would certainly tutor Ron, if he was willing.

Anyway, back to the books. The third one is a primer on mind magic, and it's been extremely enlightening. Did you know Telepathy, the highest level of mind magic, is related to life debts? Apparently, when people with long-standing bonds or mutual affection and trust save each other's lives repeatedly, they can initiate something called a soul bond, and soul-bonded pairs can use Telepathy, with training. It's utterly fascinating. 

I wonder if you don't already have a soul bond. I won't say his name for safety's sake, but it occurs to me that someone you trust has saved your life over and over, and you've saved his life at least three times, maybe more. If you don't have a bond with him yet, you should be aware you're on your way there. Not that I would ever advise you to stop saving him, but, well, just so you're aware of where this is going.

The Magics of the Mind has some interesting information on Occlumency and Legilimency if its coverage of Telepathy is sparse at best. Because it's so rare, the text only touches on the subject. I'll do more research, but it may be difficult to find, and I'm not sure how beneficial it will be—unless, of course, you really do have a soul bond.

Hope your studies are going well. 

Love, 

Hermione

Harry put the letter aside with a frown. Nothing new on soul bonds, and, apparently, finding further information would be a challenge. Hm. Maybe he should check his vaults for resources as soon as he was old enough to access them. For the moment, he had other concerns.

"Magics of the Mind, huh?" Harry grabbed another macaron and cracked the text open. "Right. Let's see what this can tell me."

Harry bolted up from a nightmare and whimpered. "Oh, oh Merlin."

A soft mew sounded, and Shadow crawled into his lap, big, yellow eyes full of worry. Harry sniffled and petted his head.

"Does it ever get any easier? I keep seeing it, over and over. The graveyard, and the cauldron, and—" Tears blurred his vision, and Harry buried his head in his hands. 

Shadow leapt down, then strong arms folded Harry up and gentle fingers sorted through his hair. 

"I am here, Harry."

Harry pressed his head into Severus' shoulder and shuddered. "We came so close. Pettigrew blasted the wall to bits, and then Cedric and I were trapped. Cedric was buried, and I thought—for a minute, I thought we would both—"

"Shh." Severus pressed Harry against him and murmured into his hair. "It is over now, Harry. You are safe, and you saved Diggory, too."

Harry sniffled. "I c-couldn't stop them, though. Riddle is back, and I…."

"No. You did well that night, better than most aurors can boast, and Diggory is alive now for it. That is what you did, Harry. You fought like a hero and saved Diggory." Severus cupped his hands around Harry's face. "You did nothing wrong that night, Harry, and I am only—only so relieved that you are safe."

Harry threw his arms around Severus and hugged him tight, desperate for a lifeline in the storm. 

"I hate this—the nightmares. I hate seeing it over and over."

Severus pressed Harry's head into his shoulder. "You shan't face this alone. I have you."

Harry nodded miserably and clung to Severus' back. "H-how do I move on? How do I stop seeing it?"

Severus' breath shuddered. "If I knew, Harry, I would tell you."

Harry looked up with a sniffle. "Is it Mum? You can't stop seeing her?"

"And you." Severus brushed back Harry's fringe and ran a thumb down his scar. "You were bleeding. Nothing I could do would close the wound, but you stopped crying when I held you."

"I trusted you even then."

"I-I am not sure I deserve such trust. It was my failing—I heard the prophecy and reported it, Harry. It's my fault he—"

"No." Harry hugged Severus' neck briefly. "No. You did all you could to protect us. Just like my sharing the cup doesn't make me guilty of Riddle's resurrection, you didn't kill Mum and Dad. And I forgive you either way." 

Severus gasped. "Forgive…?"

"Yeah. I forgave you ages ago."

Severus' eyes glimmered. "I-I have wished to hear that for nearly seventeen years."

Harry rubbed the man's cheek. "It's true, so you can let that guilt go, okay? It's not your fault. It never was."

Severus buried his face in Harry's shoulder. "Harry…."

"Shh. It's all right." Harry stroked Severus' hair and marvelled at the softness of it. "Hey, this is kind of like your fur. As Shadow. I mean, it's soft and sleek like your animagus form."

Severus lifted a tear-streaked face and chuckled a little. "Hah. You are possibly the first to say so."

Harry gave him a searching look. "Well, they're idiots then. You're handsome."

Severus flushed and turned away. "That… isn't particularly appropriate to say to a professor, but thank you."

"You're my friend too though, aren't you?"

Severus stilled. "Am I?"

"Yeah. I mean, I want you to be. Besides, you don't act like a professor when you're here as Shadow and as Severus."

"I… suppose you are right." Severus frowned, as if the idea worried him. 

"You… don't want to be friends?" Harry gasped at a sharp pain through his chest. "Ow. Ow. Oh, God."

Severus winced. "Harry?" He wrapped the boy into a gentle embrace. "Shh. I did not reject you. I am only worried about rushing the bond when you are still so very young."

Harry sniffled and rubbed his chest. The pain had gone, but what had happened in the first place? Did it have something to do with their soul bond?

"Severus, why does the bond scare you?"

Severus stared at his lap. "In time, you will know." He lifted his head and held Harry's chin, his touch gentle and soothing. "Until then, know I will never turn you away. I may ask you to wait, but I will never reject you. Do you understand?"

Harry's cheeks burned, though he didn't know why. "Y-yeah. I won't either, okay?"

Severus' smile had a haunted quality. "Thank you." 

Harry had the feeling the man didn't believe him. Well then. He would just have to prove him wrong.

"I mean that."

"I know you do." Severus smoothed Harry's hair. "Do you feel calm enough to sleep now?"

"Maybe, but, will you stay close?"

"As Shadow?"

"If you don't feel safe like this."

Severus hesitated. "I understand. Lie down then."

Harry nodded and curled up under the cover Severus had conjured for him. Severus sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Harry's hair. His permanent muffling charm on Harry's room kept his relatives out of his business and silenced the low tones of Severus' voice. Harry didn't understand the words of his song—or was it a chant?—but it soothed him anyway. Severus had a beautiful voice, too. Harry loved it, especially the way his lowest notes hummed throughout his entire body. 

Merlin, this had to be some kind of bliss.

He drifted off a moment later, wrapped in warmth and peace like he had never known.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Shadow watched Harry on the swings, ears alert to catch every sound. He hadn't been able to spend Harry's birthday with him like he had wanted, but Harry was just as happy to receive his gifts—a vision-correction potion and a glamoured dagger for protection—a bit late. Severus had replaced Harry's lenses with false, enchanted lenses, too. They detected magical traces at the press of a concealed button, though Severus had made him promise not to use them during quidditch outside of an emergency. 

His new lenses had entertained him all afternoon, as the amount of magical energy even in such a boring, quintessentially Muggle suburb as Little Whinging shocked him. He spent several moments tracking Arabella Figg's faint magic trail and that of Mister Tibbles, who apparently had some kneazle in him, but magic traces glimmered all over the neighbourhood, and each one fascinated Harry. 

"Hey, wait," Harry muttered. "Someone else with a dim magical trail is coming. Huh. I didn't know there were so many squibs here." 

Shadow sniffed the air and stood, ears twitching. The scent on the wind smelled familiar.

Dudley and his gang walked past, and a dumbstruck Harry watched them with bulging eyes. "No way. Dudley's a bloody squib! So Aunt Petunia…." He covered a snicker. "Hah! They have magic, the ruddy hypocrites! Just not enough to do spells."

Shadow gave a snort that came out as a huff. Harry chuckled and petted him behind his ears. "Guess it's not to my advantage to mention that, huh? They'd probably lock me in the cupboard permanently."

Shadow growled.

"Good to know you'll defend me."

Shadow curled up on Harry's lap.

"Yeah, I'm glad you're here, too."

Harry spent some time just petting Shadow and lulling him into a sleepy state of contentment. Merlin, but it was lovely to feel affection like this after so long without the slightest friendly touch. 

The sun had dropped below the horizon when a sharp call jerked Shadow out of a doze. 

"Oi, Freak, what are you doing out of the house?"

Harry scowled at the spoiled brat, sans toadies this time. "What do you care? Did you run out of ten year olds to bully or something?"

Shadow let out a low growl and leapt down.

Dudley gave the cat a wary look. "Hey, where'd that thing come from?"

"He's my familiar." Harry grinned. "A magical guardian, you know?"

Shadow shot Harry a reproachful look. 'Don't taunt him, child. We have enough trouble as it is.'

Harry flinched a little. "Sorry, Shadow."

The cat purred and rubbed Harry's legs. 

Dudley snapped, "Oi, stop talking to it like it understands."

"He does." Harry rubbed the cat's head. "Thanks."

"That—that's not normal."

Harry snorted and scratched Shadow's ruff. "That's fine with me. Your idea of 'normal' is boring as hell. Isn't that right, Shadow?"

Shadow huffed and twitched his tail. 'You're pushing it, Harry.'

"Sorry. It's hard to hold back sometimes."

Shadow sighed and butted his head into Harry's palm. Harry scratched behind his ears and rubbed his back, and Severus did his best to stay alert while Harry was trying to melt him into a puddle of furry goo.

Dudley stepped back, eyes darting every which way and lip trembling. "You—you think you're so tough with that… thing in your pocket, Freak. Just acting all… abnormal like it doesn't matter."

Harry stood and gave Dudley a level look. "Says the supposed bigshot boxer who needs backup to beat up little kids."

"I can take you alone!"

Harry's fingers tightened around his wand, though he left it in his pocket for the moment. "I don't think you want to try that. We both know you'll lose."

Dudley scowled. "Yeah? You're just scared I'll—"

A sudden chill made the hair on Shadow's back stand on end. 

Wait. A chill? In August?

Dudley jumped and staggered back. "What the—what are you doing?"

Harry pulled out his wand and took up a defensive position. "I didn't do this. I can't do this. I think…."

Shadow mewled at a thread of dark pain.

"Please, spare Lily. Please, spare her for my sake, my lord."

"Crucio!"

"W-what is this?" Dudley whimpered. "Put it away! Make it stop!"

Harry shuddered and went rigid. "Oh, God. Dementors!"

Shadow gasped. No! Harry couldn't defend them without bringing the Ministry onto his head—a Ministry that had it in for him. Hell, the Ministry may have even sent the dementors, given Fudge's penchant for utterly obliterating everything that came anywhere near to threatening him. And that meant Severus was their only hope. 

Severus, a spy who couldn't be seen with Harry and an unregistered animagus. 

An unregistered animagus spy who was weak to dementors.

Merlin, no! 

'Run!' Shadow grabbed Harry's denims with his teeth and pulled him towards the street. 'Hurry!'

Harry didn't need to be urged twice. He grabbed his cousin's arm and dragged him along. 

"Dudley, come on! Those things are monsters, and they'll suck out our souls if they catch us!"

Dudley went ashen. "S-souls?"

"Damn it, Dudley, run!"

The boy whimpered and ran as fast as his chubby legs could go—not nearly fast enough. No. There was no outrunning them without throwing Harry's cousin to the beasts, and as much as both Severus and Harry hated the arse, no one deserved a fate like that. 

Damn! No choice, nowhere to run. Severus would have to save them. 

Shadow meowed and raced towards a tunnel a little ways ahead. The tunnel wouldn't keep out dementors, but it would hide Severus' transformation from spies and nosy neighbours alike. Harry got the message and followed, dragging his cousin along, but just as they made it under cover of brick and stone, the grey forms swooped down and went for Harry. 

"No! Expecto—" Harry gasped as the dementor lowered its hood. "Ex—expe…."

Shadow watched a silver glow appear on his charge's breath, and every fur on his body prickled and fluffed. No! Oh Merlin, no! He couldn't lose Harry. He couldn't live without him.

Across the tunnel, Dudley screamed, and Severus realised they had gone for him, too. Gods, this was bad!

'Humanis! Humanis!'

Severus shifted into his human form and gasped at the sudden influx of fear and misery. 'Not Lily… not Harry….'

'Harry….'

Severus forced himself to remember Harry's words from a few days before. "I forgive you." Love and joy crashed through him and chased away the age-old coldness of guilt, the shadows that had shackled him for so long. 

No. He wouldn't fail this time.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver form shook itself out and bounded down the tunnel, sending dementors flying left and right. Dudley dropped, unconscious, and Harry fell to his knees with a whimper. Severus started towards his charge, but the sight of his returning patronus froze his feet to the ground. His familiar raven had shifted to a massive beast with four paws and sleek grace. Silver eyes with elliptical pupils met his own, and his patronus bowed her head.

A lioness. Sweet Circe.

He petted the beast's head with a shaking hand. "Thank you." He would name her later. For the moment, he had children to rescue. "Oh, Harry, please be safe." He dashed to the boy and pulled him into his arms. Harry was cold and shaking, but conscious. 

"T-they tried to kiss us."

Severus lifted him into his arms and held him against him. "Oh, Harry. I thought—for a moment—"

Harry shuddered and buried his head in Severus' neck. "S-so scared. I couldn't—I tried, but it wouldn't work."

Severus clung to his soul bond and shuddered at the memory of how close they had come.

Harry murmured against Severus' throat, "I saw your patronus. She's like mine, too."

Severus nodded grimly. "We are, most assuredly, soul-bonded."

Harry hugged Severus' neck. "'S okay with me."

Severus swallowed against a sudden wave of emotion. Harry had no idea what he was saying, and it was far too early for such declarations regardless, and yet, to be accepted so freely—Merlin, it was beautiful. Severus couldn't stop himself from holding the boy tighter. He wouldn't voice the words that, of all the people he might have had a soul bond with, Harry was the best of them, but he held them in his heart, a promise to give one day when Harry was older.

For now, he simply breathed in his scent and took comfort in the knowledge that his young soul bond was safe for one more day. 

Harry moved back with a sigh. "We had better make sure Dudley is okay."

Severus nodded sharply—he loathed the brat, but he wouldn't leave him to the dementors regardless. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Severus clutched Harry against his chest and carried him to his cousin. Harry didn't release him when Severus knelt with the boy, and Severus didn't push him away. 

"Rennervate," Severus muttered. 

Dudley jerked up with a gasp. "W-w-what? Who? Y-you were a cat!"

"I still am. Obliviate! You were attacked by dementors, but your cousin drove them off. You did not see anyone else." Severus whispered, "Get him home, Harry." In an instant, he was Shadow again. Harry cuddled him under his chin, and Shadow pressed his head into Harry's neck.

"Thank Merlin you were here," Harry whispered. With a sigh, he set his companion at his feet. "Come on, Dudley. We better get out of here."

Dudley whimpered and let Harry lead him home.

Neither Severus nor Harry had been able to warn Dumbledore off of sending them to Grimmauld Place, so Harry found himself the newest unwilling resident of Black's ancestral home. It suited a Death Eater, that was certain.

Black met Harry at the floo. "Harry! I'm so glad you've come. Now—"

"The feeling is not mutual, Black." Harry cradled a shaking Shadow close to his heart and stalked past the gaping idiot. 

"But, Harry, I'm your godfather!" He moved closer, arms out for a hug, and Harry leapt away with a sneer. 

"Don't touch me!"

"Oh, come on. I just wanted a hug."

"I don't."

"But we're family, Harry. I mean it. I want you to come and live with me now I'm out of that hellhole and—"

Harry stopped dead, a shudder crawling over his skin. Merlin help him. He turned and fixed Black with a cold glare.

"Live with you? Live with the arsehole who slashed up the Fat Lady, stabbed my best friend and broke his bones, and tried to murder Professor Snape at least four times? Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take my magic-hating relatives any day of the week."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad here, and we could be like a real family, you know? You want a family, don't you?" Black moved as if to embrace him, but Harry stepped away. 

"I said no, Black."

"Aw, but you don't know what you're missing. Come on, give it a chance."

Harry evaded another attempt to touch him and glared. "Why are you so set on this? What shite are you up to now?"

Black gave him an 'innocent' smile. "Just trying to encourage that Marauder spirit. Come on, give it a chance at least." 

He reached as if to pat Harry's shoulder, but Shadow hissed and yowled, every hair on end, and Harry felt the magic on Black's hand, too. On instinct, Harry jerked his foot up at lightning speed, and his trainer connected with soft, vulnerable flesh. Black howled and dropped both hands towards his bits and Harry's foot, but Harry dodged him and leapt back, well out of range. 

Black howled and grabbed his groin. "Damn it, why?"

"Because I told you not to touch me, arsehole, and I'd rather eat acromantula shite than be anything like you." With that, Harry slammed the door in Black's face and dashed away. "Bloody arse!" He took refuge in the drawing room and whispered to his terrified companion, "That spell on his hand, it was a portkey, wasn't it?"

Shadow shuddered and gave a quiet mewl of alarm.

"God, we'll all be killed if we stay here." Harry cradled his friend close and sprinted for the kitchen. "Mum Weasley, keep that monster away from us!" 

Molly looked up from her cooking. "Harry? What's the matter?"

"Black! I told Dumbledore the man is dangerous, but he's not listening, and that berk just tried to make me move in. Ugh! I don't trust him, not at all." 

Molly huffed and beat whatever she was mixing into oblivion. "You don't need to tell me, dearie. I said as much to Albus, too. Why, that monster proved how dangerous he was back in Severus' school years, long before Pettigrew—"

Shadow went rigid. Whatever Molly knew, Severus didn't want Harry to hear it. Or maybe he just didn't want to relive it. Either way, he needed Harry's help. 

"I believe it, but Snape's not the important thing now." Harry soothed Shadow with a gentle scratch behind his ears. "Mum Weasley, we can't stay here. Ron's terrified of Black, Shadow hates him, too, and I'm scared he's got some kind of plot up his sleeve for me. Please." 

"I know, dearie. I just don't know how to make it clear to Albus." She frowned. "But who is Shadow?"

Harry motioned to the cat trembling against his chest. "My cat. He… chose me this summer—there's some kneazle in him, I think. He's really scared."

Molly gave Shadow a smile. "Oh. Well, hello there. My, aren't you a beauty." She offered him a piece of chicken, but Shadow made a low sound of distress and hid his head in Harry's arms. "Oh, the poor dear. Yes, I see what you mean." 

"So you agree? We can't stay here?"

Molly sighed. "The problem is, Harry, this house—well, I'm not sure how much you know about the Order…."

"The Order of the Phoenix? Dumbledore leads it, and most of the people on the front lines against Riddle are members."

"Riddle?"

"Voldemort." Shadow jumped at the name, and Harry rubbed his back in apology. "Tom Riddle is his proper name. That said, what does the Order have to do with Black?"

Molly shook her head. "We should have nothing to do with him. If I could, I would kick him out myself, but Albus…." She gave a weary sigh. "Well, either way, this is, at current, the only warded house available to the Order. So we need it, even if I loathe this place and its owner quite as much as you do, dear."

Harry scowled. "We'll see about that. I—"

Black called from the hallway, "Harry, come on, don't be like that." 

Harry growled and raced upstairs to avoid him. 

Harry hid in his room until well past midnight, guarding Shadow and listening at the door. Shadow finally relaxed at one in the morning and shifted into his human form. Harry didn't move until Severus had the room warded to hell and back.

"There." Severus sat on the bed and laid his head in his hands. "Merlin help me. I am more frightened of Black than the Dark Lord."

Harry sat beside him and rubbed the man's back. "Shh. I won't let him hurt anyone."

"How will we prevent it in his house, Harry? When you are forbidden to do magic, and I cannot defend you without blowing my cover?"

"Well, I might have a plan. I just couldn't talk about it where that duffer could hear."

Severus gave him a sharp look. "You are not to challenge him, Potter!"

"Hey, easy." Harry grabbed Severus' hands. "Shh. I know. Can't defend myself without a wand, though I did all right earlier. Still, can't expect him to leave his bits unguarded the next time. I really should learn some kind of martial arts or something."

"I will not teach you only to have you throw yourself in battle against that demon!"

"I know, Severus. I never meant that." He took the shaking spy into a gentle hug. "Shh. 'S okay. I'm here."

Severus shuddered. "Why are you not angry at me?"

"I've been reading between the lines of your anger for almost two years now, Severus, and besides, I—" Harry swallowed hard. "I feel it. Your fear."

Severus winced. "The bond."

"Y-yeah. It's been getting stronger for a while now, I think."

Severus sighed and leaned back. "We must take care then." He crossed his arms over his waist and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, a veil of cold Occlumency had fallen over his features. "Now that I am able to focus, tell me what you had in mind."

"I was thinking—well, my family had money, right?"

"They did. Your grandfather was a famous potioneer. He invented a line of beauty products, the most renowned of which is Sleek-Eazy's Hair Potion. He made a fortune from it."

"Sleek Eazy? Merlin. 'Mione loves that stuff."

"Many wixen do. I daresay his fortune has amassed quite a pile of interest since your parents' deaths."

"Wow. I had no idea." Harry closed his eyes. "I wish I could've met them—my grandparents."

Severus squeezed his hand. "My memories of your paternal grandparents are scarce, but I do have a few. I have many of your maternal grandparents and mother as well. I will show them to you when we begin Legilimency training."

Harry smiled and rubbed Severus' fingers. "Thank you." 

"Not at all, but why do you ask about your fortune, child?"

"Well, do I have a lordship?"

"Two that I know of, unless another heir has been born into the latter line since your father's death: Potter and Peverell."

"Peverell? Huh. Well then, can I claim my lordships now?"

"Not for another year, not without being emancipated."

"What does that entail?"

"It isn't feasible, Harry. To be emancipated means you lose the protection of the blood wards."

Harry let his head fall. "Severus, Pettigrew touched me. Black touched me."

"Yes. Why do you—oh." Severus paled. "The wards only protect you from the Dark Lord himself."

"I don't even have that protection now, and, even if I did, what's stopping him from sending Malfoy or Bellatrix after me? Or Black? You know Black has to be reporting back to him. It would be so easy with us sleeping under his roof to just… snatch me away and—"

"Damn." Severus stood and paced, one hand pressed against his mouth. "Damn! You are right. You cannot stay here, and you cannot be left in a Muggle household any longer. You need people who are able to protect you."

"But as long as I'm seen as a child, the headmaster will send me back to the Dursleys every year regardless. He didn't listen about the fake Moody, Lupin, or Black. He won't listen about this either."

Severus closed his eyes and gave a short nod. "You must be emancipated then, but be aware that, by doing this, we are drawing a line in the sand with Albus. We are announcing that we no longer trust his judgment. And that may prove to be… problematic."

"More so than Black murdering us all in our sleep while the headmaster carries on in his little rose-tinted bubble?"

Severus sighed. "I don't know, Harry. I don't know what this will mean for either of us."

Harry took Severus' hands. "You'll stand by me?"

"Always," Severus whispered. 

Harry squeezed his palms. "Then we'll be okay. We'll practice and learn Telepathy, and then we'll be able to stay one step ahead of the old bastard."

"Which?"

Harry snorted. "Both of them. So don't be afraid, okay? We'll pull through this together."

Severus bowed his head. "I have never had such an unshakable ally."

"I'm not just your ally, Severus."

"I-I know." Severus stepped back and stared at the door. "Those wards are strong. We should get some sleep. We will discuss the situation with Molly and Arthur in the morning."

"All right." Harry stretched and lay upon the bed. "Come here. I'll protect you."

Severus morphed into Shadow and curled up on Harry's chest. Harry stroked his ears and watched him drift. Secure in the knowledge that Molly and Arthur had made damn sure to protect the others, too, Harry soon followed him into dreams.

The next morning, Shadow checked at the door just inside Harry's wards. The strong scent of canine set his fur bristling. That damn mutt. 

Harry knelt and stroked Shadow's back. "You smell the arse, huh?"

Shadow bobbed his head and pawed at Harry's denims under the boy's pocket. 

"You want me to get my knife?"

Shadow nodded sharply, and Harry removed the switchblade Severus had given him a few days before.

"Behind me, Shadow."

Shadow gave him a sharp look.

"Yes, I know you want to protect me, but you're not even a tenth of that beast's size. Behind me."

Shadow huffed in indignation, but he had to concede the point. He edged behind Harry's legs. If he needed to spring between them to guard his charge, he could. 

Harry opened the door a crack and peered out. "I think it's clear."

Shadow sniffed and wove between his legs, out into the hall. The scent marked Black's presence outside the door late last night, but he had long since moved on. Thank Merlin Severus had warded the room so thoroughly. 

"Oi, I told you to stay back." Harry picked Shadow up instead and pressed him to his chest. "Stubborn cat."

Shadow chuffed and jumped onto Harry's shoulder.

"Hitching a ride, are you? That'll do."

Harry went next door and knocked on Ron's door. "Hey, mate, you okay?"

"Fine," Ron muttered. "Now let a bloke sleep. Was up late making sure that bastard didn't try anything."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah. I—I'll talk to you later."

Ron muttered something unintelligible, and Harry made his way downstairs. Shadow balanced with relative ease. Feline reflexes were nothing to sneeze at, to be sure. 

Molly chuckled at the sight of them. "Well, that looks like a comfortable perch, Shadow." 

Shadow washed his whiskers. Molly smiled and patted Harry's unoccupied shoulder. 

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

Harry snorted. "In Black's house?"

Molly gave him a pained look. "Yes, I know what you mean."

"Yeah. Mum Weasley, I need to talk to you and Dad Weasley when Black isn't about. I might have a plan, but I'll need help."

Molly gave him a curious look. "Eat first, and I'll think of a way to keep us safe." She gave Harry a plate of scones, eggs, and rashers.

"Thank you." Harry set in and shared some bacon with Shadow.

"Oh, here, Shadow," said Molly. "Arthur bought some tuna for you last night. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

Shadow's ears perked. He liked tuna well enough as a human. As a cat, the thought had him salivating. She cracked open a tin, and Shadow mewed at her feet until she set the plate under the table for him. 

Tinned tuna had never tasted so good.

Hermione arrived that afternoon with books and souvenirs from Japan this time. Harry received an inkwash painting of Hedwig in the light of a full moon, and Ron a new chess set made by a local artisan. Harry displayed his painting on his desk, at least for the moment, and Shadow watched from Harry's shoulder as he and Ron broke in his new chess set. If Shadow 'directed' Harry's hand every now and then, well, who would know?

A knock on the door made all four occupants tense. 

"It's all right, dears. It's just us." Molly.

Harry frowned. "Mum Weasley, what did Dad Weasley tell you when the twins and Ron brought me back from the Dursleys' in your old Ford Taurus—before he joined in on your reprimands, I mean?"

Shadow nuzzled Harry's cheek in approval.

"It wasn't a Taurus, dear, it was a Ford Anglia, and he asked them how it flew before he pretended to be as upset as I was. Badly."

Arthur chuckled. "Sorry, Mollywobbles. And, Harry, well done in asking us to identify ourselves. If I recall correctly, the first time we attempted to call you on the fellytone at your relatives' house, it went rather badly given we didn't know how to use it well. And your uncle was quite rude."

"It's them." Harry opened the door for them. "Is anything wrong?"

"Not at all, dear," said Molly, "but I have Bill supervising Black in the basement. They're clearing out the doxies in the storage room, and that will absorb Black's focus for a time. So I thought this would be a good opportunity to chat."

Harry grinned. "I hope the doxies eat Black alive."

Shadow gave his little huffing laugh. 

Ron snorted. "You and me both, mate, but what's this all about?"

"Getting us away from that monster." Harry shut and locked the door. "Um, would you please ward this, Mum and Dad Weasley?"

Arthur squeezed his shoulder. "You can just call us Mum and Dad if you like, you know."

Harry swallowed hard. "I—" Merlin, he wanted to, but…. "Ron?"

Ron grinned. "Aw, course it's okay, mate. Might as well be my brother anyway."

Harry beamed and hugged him. "T-thanks." He smiled shyly at Arthur. "Well then, D-Dad, Mum, please ward this room and silence it well, just in case. There's a silencing charm I know that will help, since Black can't counter it—Muffliato Quietus."

Molly gasped. "But that's Severus' charm! He invented it. How on earth…?"

Harry gave Shadow a curious look. "Wow. I didn't realise that. Merlin, the man is brilliant."

Shadow purred in Harry's arms and butted his head against Harry's hand. Harry stroked his head and back, and the animagus purred louder.

"Anyway, please use the charm, Mum," said Harry. "It's crucial that Black doesn't overhear this conversation."

Molly nodded grimly and obeyed. Once the room was silenced and warded as well as the Weasleys could do, Harry faced them with a grim look.

"Right. Mum, Dad, I need you to help me be emancipated."

Molly gave a startled cry. "E-emancipated! But, Harry, dear, the blood wards—"

"One, the wards do nothing to protect me from the monsters on the inside, and two, they're useless now anyway. The wards only ever protected me from Voldemort himself, not the Death Eaters. If they did, Pettigrew couldn't have touched me. He certainly couldn't have taken my blood. And, as Voldemort used that blood to resurrect himself, the protection against him is useless now, too. It hurts me when he touches me, but Voldemort doesn't appear to suffer any ill effects at all. So I can't stay with a lot of abusive, useless Muggles any longer. I have to live with wizards I can trust, or I'll be killed."

Molly paled and covered her mouth. "Oh, by Merlin. We must tell Albus."

"Mum. He won't listen. I told him about Lupin, Black, and Moody, and he brushed me off. What's more, Snape…." Harry chewed his lip, trying to work out how much was safe to reveal. 

"Harry," said Arthur with a frown, "I know Severus is… difficult to deal with, but he's part of the Order and trustworthy. I don't think he would ever hurt you."

Harry frowned back. "I know that, Dad. I just…." He gave Shadow a worried look. The cat hesitated, then rubbed Harry's cheek. Whew. Permission to speak. Thank goodness.

Shadow leapt down, probably in anticipation of having to assume his human form, but Harry had no intention of revealing that much to the Weasleys. Not Molly and Arthur anyway. He patted Shadow's back and gathered his wits. Right. He could do this.

"I know he's a spy. I've known since early on in third year." 

Ron leapt up. "Oh Merlin! That's who you were protecting back then! When you said you had to keep secrets to keep people alive! I couldn't believe it when Nev told me you had to have gotten those potions from Snape's personal stores—he's been hurt enough in potions to know—but it's true, isn't it? Pomfrey didn't take care of you after the Triwizard. Snape did."

Harry nodded. "And Dumbledore drilled us for answers, knowing Severus and I had both been tortured and I was injured on top of it, without healing either of us."

"Severus?" Hermione gave him a worried look. "Oh goodness. Harry, the thing I mentioned in that letter, about the… debts, it's true, isn't it?"

Harry gave her a grim nod.

"Oh, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes. "It's okay. Severus is good to me. He has to be a berk outside of his office because he'll be killed if he isn't, but he's… sweet behind his masks. Gentle, protective, and caring. He's a wonderful person and I love him dearly. We just can't ever show it to anyone else."

Shadow mewled and jerked his paws over his face. Harry gave him a sad smile and lifted him back into his arms. 

"Shh. It's all right." He soothed the trembling animagus with gentle strokes down his back and a soft kiss atop his head. Shadow butted Harry's chin and buried his face in the boy's neck. 

Hermione gave the cat a knowing look. "Is Shadow all right?"

"Yeah. Just a little nervous here." Harry sat on the bed and settled the cat in his lap, never ceasing his gentle touches. "Severus is my friend, and I need him to survive this. Will you all help me keep him safe?"

Hermione sat beside Harry and held her hand out for Shadow. The cat sniffed her fingers and butted his head into her palm. She smiled and scratched behind his ears.

"Of course we will, Harry."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, 'Mione."

"It sounds as though we ought to be thanking him." She scratched under Shadow's chin. "A lot."

Shadow nuzzled her palm.

Ron shook himself out of his shock and nodded. "If he's been all that for you, Harry, I reckon I understand now why you trust him and not the old man."

Molly and Arthur frowned at him, then looked to Harry. 

"Harry, dear," said Molly, "I'm glad Severus is able to let his guard down with you—Merlin knows the man needs a friend or two—but I don't understand. You don't trust Albus?"

Harry shook his head and gave them a grim look. "I haven't since third year, and for good reason, too…."

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Having four more people on his and Severus' side relieved Harry. Having his freedom relieved him more. 42 Brightwood Street, a Potter family property, was a spacious and well-warded townhouse situated on the outskirts of London, and, therefore, close enough to the centre of the action to be convenient for the Order. Best of all, Harry could ward out anyone he didn't want around him, like Black and Lupin. 

For his personal use, Harry chose one of the Peverell properties, Ashton House. The small manor home lay in the heart of the British countryside, southeast of a tiny wizarding village called Kneazleton, which connected to a Muggle town called Maidstone. 

His goblin property manager, Senvard, had only had time to show Harry and family the basics of each property, given they had made the appointment the same afternoon, but from what Harry saw, he thought both would do. Brightwood House would need a makeover to balance the unrelenting parade of Gryffindor paraphernalia throughout the house, though. After all, not every member of the Order was a lion. Ashton House, however, Harry fell in love with on sight. It was, in a nutshell, the polar opposite of Privet Drive's stifling, prim-and-proper façade and Grimmauld Place's ramshackle darkness. Loads of natural light, hardwood floors, and classy furnishings gave the place a happy, bright sort of feeling, and the occasional handmade quilt or bookshelf decorated with trinkets from the past made the place feel homey and welcoming. The only thing missing was a garden, and as there was plenty of land to be had, Harry had no doubt he could make good use of it. Severus, too, perhaps, might like to help.

Yes, that was a house Harry could be happy in for years to come. He would ask Severus to help him cast a Fidelius Charm over it when Shadow returned from running damage control with the headmaster. For the moment, Molly and Arthur had offered to take Harry in until he was ready to strike out on his own, and Harry had accepted with a huge grin and hugs for both. They had spent the entire day shopping for Harry—new clothes, books, furniture, the works—and now, he had a home and a real family. Finally.

Harry lay upon his bed in Ron's bedroom at the Burrow—their bedroom now—exhausted but content. Across from him, Ron and Hermione sat on the floor, one of Hermione's new books from Japan spread out at her feet. Severus had let Harry move him in as Shadow, and, after a cursory look over the place, he went to 'explore the neighborhood.' Which really meant Severus had business elsewhere—probably allaying Dumbledore's impending temper tantrum—but he would be back to check on Harry soon. 

"Hey, mate, Shadow's been gone a long time," Ron said with a frown. "You reckon he's okay?"

Harry nodded. "He likes his space."

"Mate, come off it. He was practically glued to you in Grimmauld Place."

"Yeah, because Black was there, and he knew I wasn't safe." Harry sat and gave Crookshanks, curled up on Ron's bed and almost invisible against his Chudley Cannons duvet, a curious look. "But I've got some secrets to catch you both up on now it's safe to anyway. Oi, Crook." The cat's tail twitched. "Ignoring me, huh? Well, what do you think of me now?" 

Harry shifted into Loki and stretched out his back. "Mrerr?"

Ron gasped. "Bloody hell!"

Crookshanks jumped down with a mew and sniffed Harry. Harry ducked into a playful pose and flicked his tail. 

'I'm your friend, remember?'

Crookshanks licked his head and gave a playful mrow, and Harry dashed away from the bigger cat. 

"Look at them go," said Ron with a chuckle. 

Hermione laughed. "Looks as though you have a lot of new friends, Crook."

Harry let the cat catch him and tumbled with him for a minute, then shifted into human form, grinning from ear to ear. "That was fun."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad to see you so playful."

Harry patted Crookshanks' back and sat cross-legged in front of his friends. The cat perched in his lap and purred. "Guess he approves."

Hermione chuckled and scratched Crookshanks under his chin. "So it seems." She gave Harry a curious look. "How long?"

"Since early on this summer. Severus got the idea from Black and decided it would be good for us both to have a secret way of escape. He's been working on potions for you since he learned that I'm teaching you Occlumency, but they take almost a year to brew. It's why there are so few animagi." 

"Bloody hell!" Ron jumped as if Harry had shot him and gaped at his new brother. "Snape is brewing us—Hermione and me—animagi potions?"

Harry nodded. "He knows damn well you two will follow me through the fire, so he figured it's safer for everyone involved if he helps you, too."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Snape? Our potions professor, Snape?" He gave Hermione a wide-eyed look. "Am I dreaming or something? Snape wouldn't associate with us."

Hermione giggled. "For your information, he played chess with you this morning. Don't think I didn't see him nudging your shoulder, Harry!"

Harry grinned. "Guilty as charged."

Ron choked. "Your shoulder? Wait. Wait! Shadow?"

Harry chuckled. "Took you long enough. Hermione knew in about five minutes."

"When you said you loved him…." Hermione's face went soft and sad. "His entire world changed. Cat or no, I saw it in his eyes."

Harry rubbed his chest and the bloom of warmth there. Why? Was Severus happy? He hadn't anticipated that, not with Dumbledore likely on the warpath. Oh. No, Severus was nervous. Maybe the warmth in Harry's chest was only a reflection of the bond between them then. 

"Yeah. I don't think he had ever heard it before."

Ron's shock faded, and his brow pinched. "Never?"

"He's had a lonely, painful life." And Harry's family was right at the crux of the problem. "He won't anymore though. Ron, did 'Mione tell you what she learned about life debts and the effects of several mutual debts between people who trust each other?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Something about…." He froze. "Oh. Oh, Merlin. You're soul-bonded?"

Harry nodded. "I can already feel his emotions, our patronuses are paired—his is a lioness—and our animagus forms are nearly identical. The only differences are that I'm younger, my marking is on my head, and Shadow's eyes are yellow instead of green. So, yeah, I think it's safe to say we're soul bonded."

Ron swallowed hard. "I guess we better get used to him being around then, yeah?"

"Maybe. Just remember you can't act like you know the truth in public. If Riddle or Dumbledore finds out…."

Ron shuddered. "Understood, mate."

Severus stood in the old man's office, mind blank and expression neutral through the turmoil inside. For all he couldn't help crowing a bit to himself—Merlin, it felt good to finally get one over on the bastard—the potential backlash of Harry's decision worried him. Albus was already looking for answers as to why Harry had rebelled against his master plan, and Severus knew all too well how wily and conniving Albus could be. 

If the old man worked out the truth, if he realised he had lost half of the Order's blind trust, Severus feared the consequences to them all.

Still, he wouldn't change it. Harry had suffered far too much under Albus' neglectful watch, and he would be far safer in the Weasleys' care than with his rhabdophobic Muggle relatives. At least Severus knew the boy would be well-fed, warm, and loved the next time they met. When he and Bill finished warding the Burrow and put it under Fidelius, Harry would be even safer. 

What a novelty.

Albus stared at the notice upon his desk, his brow wrinkled and twinkle absent. "I simply do not understand this. Why would Harry remove me as his magical guardian?

'Why indeed.'

Severus scoffed. "Who knows how the boy's mind works? Still, if you truly wish to know why your pet weapon has slipped from your grasp, you might first consider the fact that you not only placed him with abusive guardians—knowingly—but you also forced him to return to said guardians every summer. As if that was not motivation enough, you ignored his warnings about Crouch, and his friends nearly died before his eyes for your folly. Thirdly, when his Muggle abusers proved useless against the dangers of the wizarding world and Potter had to fight off another horde of dementors alone, you placed him under the same roof as the reckless, evil mutt whom he witnessed attempt to murder me upon three separate occasions, who stabbed his best friend and slashed Emelda's portrait, and who, if Molly is to be believed, all but assaulted Potter himself the same moment the brat set foot in headquarters." Severus' eyes hardened. "Not to mention my own intelligence, which, yet again, you have chosen to disregard despite your past mistakes. You have failed the brat at every turn, yet you still act shocked at his distrust?" He gave a bitter snort. "For once, I must commend him for showing an ounce of forethought and making my job easier, as it is clear you have no intention to."

Albus frowned at Severus. "How would Harry know anything of your… opinions of Sirius?"

Severus glared to cover the truth. "What do my opinions have to do with it at all? It is quite obvious that the brat has no love lost on the mutt, and as Black has proved dangerous to both friend and foe, it is truly so shocking that Potter may have come to see Black as a threat of his own accord?"

Albus gave him an assessing look. "As Sirius is Harry's only remaining family who has shown him affection, yes, I find it rather shocking."

Severus gave him a dark smile and flaunted the truth, knowing full well the bastard would doubt it simply because Severus had given it. "Perhaps, old man, you might then consider the possibility that your grand plans have finally come back to bite you squarely in the arse. Perhaps placing Potter with untrustworthy guardians has, rather than rendering the boy more susceptible to manipulation from the first apparent source of affection, instead taught him a measure of discretion. Perhaps, like other abused children you neglected, he has learned to regard authority with distrust. I do wonder, Albus, how that knowledge will affect your plans for the boy. That is, of course, assuming you heed my counsel at all."

Severus knew better by now.

"I think, perhaps, you are superimposing your experience of Harry's regard for authority onto my own. I cannot believe the boy has fallen so far in so short a time."

'Like leading a niffler to gold.' Or more like leading the niffler to a pile of Leprechaun gold by flashing a bit of the real thing under his nose.

Severus snorted bitterly. "I begin to wonder if there is any use in advising you any longer, Albus. What is the point of risking my life day in and day out to inform someone who thinks nothing of my opinions?" He stalked to the door. "Call me when you have more use for me than to stand in for the wall." He slammed the door and stormed away, and only let his tension fade when he was well away from Albus' sight. 

Merlin. He had imagined misleading the Dark Lord without giving his hand away was difficult, but doing the same to Albus made the former seem like a walk in the park. True, Albus wouldn't kill and torture Severus for his change in loyalties, but he would leave Severus to his own devices and revoke his protection, and that would end the same way.

Perhaps he would do well to begin planning for a break from the Order, or at least Albus, and the Dark Lord alike. With his soul tied to Harry's, he could no longer justify placing himself in such danger every other moment. Harry needed him, and that meant Severus would need to free himself from both of his masters, as soon as it was feasible. 

Well, he had worked out how to render basilisk venom into the Draught of Living Death before his twenty-first birthday. Removing the mark—particularly with the aid of a natural healer and a soul-bonded ally—might also be possible. If he asked Bill for help, perhaps it might also bring Harry's family to trust him more. Merlin, he hoped so.

With a heavy sigh, Severus pushed his troubles to the back of his mind. He could do nothing about them yet, and, for the moment, he had somewhere to be.

Harry jumped at a meow outside his door. "That'll be Shadow." He opened the door for the animagus and returned to his seat on the floor, where he had been discussing the situation with Ron and Hermione. "Hi there."

Shadow mewed and leapt into his lap. Harry stroked his back and smiled. "I'm glad you're okay. How did it go?"

Shadow gave him a piercing look.

"They know. It's all right."

"We won't hurt you, sir," said Hermione. "I'm just so relieved you're okay. We were worried. Did you manage to throw the headmaster off the scent?"

Shadow turned his gaze on Ron. The boy sighed and offered his hand for the cat to sniff.

"I really should have known it was you when Harry beat me at chess this morning."

Harry gave him a mock-affronted look. "Oi! I'm not… that bad."

"Yes, you are." Ron gave Shadow a hesitant scratch behind his ears. "Maybe you could play me for real sometime, sir. It's been a while since I had such a good challenge."

Shadow eyed him for a moment, his tension palpable, then gave the boy a hesitant nod. 

Ron grinned. "Brilliant. Given you've had to be smart enough to stay two steps ahead of You-Know-Who and Dumbledore both, I reckon you'll be tough to beat."

Shadow gave a low growl.

"Er… did I say something wrong?"

"No, not for his sake." Harry smoothed Shadow's fur. "He wants you to use the headmaster's title, I think, not because Headmaster Dumbledore deserves it, but because we can't let him see that we don't trust him anymore. It's best to just use his title even though he's a bastard, so we don't accidentally slip where he can hear."

Ron nodded, expression grim. "Understood, mate, but it might not be such a great idea to do that in personal conversations even if he can hear us. It's out of character. We don't call any of the other professors by their titles when it's just us, after all. Well, Hermione, but not you and me."

Shadow tilted his head, flicked his tail a few times, and nodded.

Harry scratched behind his ears. "Thanks, Shadow. So are you okay? Were you able to throw Dumbledore off the scent?"

Shadow's ears folded back and his head drooped. He nodded, but Harry felt his deep-seated hurt and sense of betrayal. He cradled Shadow against his heart and kissed the animagus' head. 

"I'm sorry. If it helps at all, we trust you."

Shadow nudged his head into the crook of Harry's neck. Harry stroked his back and held him until the hurt inside him faded to warmth and love.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron looked at the cat with concern. "Didn't it go well?"

Harry hesitated to answer until Shadow nuzzled his neck and a sense of acceptance filled his heart—Shadow's permission to speak.

"He's not saying that." Harry cuddled his friend closer. "He's just hurt because I think he had to lead Dumbledore off the trail by suggesting the truth. He's feeling betrayed because Dumbledore doesn't listen to him or value his intelligence, and he's given so much to bring it back to him. He's suffered dreadfully for his information, and Dumbledore just brushes him off."

Shadow mewled and pressed his head against Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, I've got you. It's all right now."

Shadow butted his head against Harry's jaw, then wriggled free and perched in his lap again. Harry petted him as he talked, soothing him with gentle affection. 

"So, now what?" Harry frowned between his friends. "Where do we go from here?"

Hermione glanced at the clock and shook her head. "I think we're going to have to discuss that tomorrow, boys. Mrs. Weasley will be by in a while to ship me off to Ginny's room anyway."

Shadow nodded and nudged Harry towards the bed. 

"Yes, yes, we'll go to bed soon." Harry rubbed the cat's head. "Shadow? Thank you. For everything you do to keep us safe."

Shadow licked Harry's hand and curled up in his lap. 

"Right." Harry petted Shadow's head and gave his friends a wry smile. "So, now that we've the grim stuff behind us as much as it can be for the moment, let's talk, 'Mione. I'm thoroughly fed up with denims ten times my size and tatty t-shirts. Give me some fashion tips, will you?"

Hermione giggled. "You're better off asking Professor Snape! But I'll do what I can, starting with taming that bird's nest of yours."

"That's the spirit."

Harry applied his grandfather's potion to his comb and dragged it through his hair. He watched in wonder as his wild, unruly locks tamed themselves and softened into soft, loose curls. 

"Wow. Look at this, Shadow. What do you think?"

Shadow purred and rubbed his head against Harry's hand, then jumped off of the counter and assumed his human form on the way to the floor. 

"I suspect your grandfather designed that potion with the Potter mop in mind. It just so happened that most other people benefited from it as well."

Harry gave Severus' silky locks a wry smile. "You don't need it. Your hair is beautiful as it is."

Severus flushed. "Actually, I use it myself."

Harry laughed softly. "Wouldn't my arse of a father have liked to know that?"

Severus' face twisted with some dark, ages-old pain, and Harry winced. 

"Merlin. He bullied you about your hair, didn't he?"

Severus turned away. "Whom do you think first coined the lovely appellation of 'Greasy Git?'"

Harry wrapped his arms around Severus' waist and buried his face in the older man's shoulders. "You don't have to wear it around me if you don't want to. I promise I'll never hurt you over your looks either way."

Severus tilted his head back so the tips of his hair brushed Harry's. "It's habit by now, but thank you." He rubbed Harry's hands briefly and stepped away. In an instant, Harry's cat had returned and leapt onto the counter. 

With a sigh, Harry rubbed Shadow's back and scratched behind his ears. "You know, one day you won't be able to do that to avoid talking to me."

Shadow's ears folded back. With an uncertain mrerr, he nudged his head into Harry's palm.

"I know you don't like talking about the past, Shadow. It's all right. I don't have to know yet."

A shudder passed down Shadow's frame. The cat crawled closer and pressed his head into Harry's stomach. Harry picked him up and carried him into the bedroom, where Ron was just waking. 

"Oi, what'd you do to your hair, mate?"

"Tried some of the family hair formula," said Harry with a grin.

"Family…?" Ron blinked several times. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Tell you in a bit. Get dressed. After breakfast, we have loads to talk about."

"Er… all right, mate." Ron gave the cat a curious look. "You okay, Shadow?"

The cat meowed and leapt onto Harry's shoulder. 

"Oi," Harry said with a grimace. "Watch the claws." 

Shadow nuzzled his cheek in apology, and Harry rubbed the cat's chin. 

"Maybe I'll just put you there to start with," he muttered and headed for the stairs. 

Charlie, back in England for a visit, came out of his bedroom with a yawn, hair sticking up at the back of his head and all of his formidable musculature on display above a low-slung pair of pyjamas. Harry's face burned at the sight of so much man right before his eyes. Not boy. Man. Burly man. 

"Bloody hell," he choked out. 

Shadow's ears folded back, but he gave no other sign of discomfort. Harry suspected he couldn't control his ears yet. Merlin knew Loki hadn't a smidgen of control over the damn things. Always swirling about after every sound, like a bloody radar or something. It made him dizzy sometimes. 

"Oh, morning, Harry." Charlie let out an almighty yawn. "Ugh. You'd think after five years on the reserve I'd be used to early mornings by now. Clearly, not so much." With another yawn, he dragged himself towards the upstairs bathroom, and Harry couldn't suppress a slight giggle. 

"How much do you want to bet early mornings have nothing to do with it, but rather that he was up half the night drinking with Bill?"

Shadow's ears relaxed, and a huffing laugh brushed Harry's cheek. Harry rubbed Shadow's ruff and carried on towards the kitchen, where Molly was already dressed and hard at work making enough food for an army.

"Mum, can I help?"

"Oh, Harry, guests don't he…." She blinked several times, then gave a wry chuckle. "I suppose that speech won't work anymore, will it?"

Harry grinned. "Nope. Besides, I like cooking."

Molly sighed. "Seven biological children, and the only one who inherited any interest in cooking and my recipe tin is the one I didn't give birth to!"

Harry snickered and set Shadow down. "I could always rope Ron into some lessons. Wouldn't advise trying anything with Gred and Forge though. Merlin knows what they might do to the food. Besides, they're actually really good at making sweets already. Shame theirs always do something… interesting before you've a chance to enjoy them."

Molly chuckled. “True enough. Would you believe they turned me into a duck last week? A duck!” She passed Harry a skillet and motioned to the eggs and butter sitting nearby. “I grounded them for a week, but….” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Between you and me, it might have been longer if they hadn't used my grandmother's recipe for divinity for the trick sweet and done a wonderful job at it.”

Harry snorted. "Noted for future reference: when in doubt, bribe Mum with family recipes."

Molly playfully tapped his cheek and tossed a round of sausages onto her own pan. "You rotten boy, you. I wonder which of my hooligans taught you that mischievous streak, hm?"

"Can't say, I've been told to take it to my grave."

Molly laughed outright. "Merlin, you're a cheeky little one today." Her expression softened. "I'm very glad to see you so happy."

Harry's smile slipped. "Yeah. I want to enjoy it while it lasts. With a war on out there, well…."

Molly nodded sadly. "True, but don't let the dark times drown you, love. We've all lost someone dear to this madness, and I fear, before we're through, we'll lose more. But just keep faith, dear, and hold on to that light of love inside you. Together, we'll pull through."

Shadow weaved between their legs, a move Harry recognised as a show of support.

Molly, not knowing Shadow was an Animagus, interpreted it differently. "Oh, look at us, Harry, blathering away when we've mouths to feed. Here, Shadow. How does a spot of fresh cream sound? Just a little—we don't want to upset your stomach—but a small treat won't harm anyone. And there's some chicken and gravy set aside for you when you're finished with that."

Shadow's tail flicked like mad. Harry watched him lap up the cream with a grin.

"We're going to be all right here, aren't we, Shadow?"

The cat purred. 

Something shifted on Harry's shoulder. “Shadow?” Still half asleep, Harry dragged his eyes open to see if Shadow was back yet. Instead, a pair of wide, orange eyes stared directly into his own, far too close. 

“Argh! What the…?” Harry scrambled back, heart thudding against his ribs. 

“Wheee!”

Something like a brown-feathered snitch zoomed around his head, bobbing and weaving like a crazy person. 

Ron snorted and jerked out of bed. “Whassamatta? Who…?”

“Whooo!”

Ron groaned. “Pig! It's too bloody early. Go back outside.”

Harry blinked several times. Only when the flying thing gave a disappointed hoot and landed on Ron's windowsill did he finally parse that it was an owl. A tiny, excitable owl.

He gaped at his new brother. “What the hell is that thing?”

The owl gave a snooty hoot and sidled up to Ron's ear. Ron swatted him back. 

“Geroff, Pig! ‘M tryin’ t'sleep.”

Harry hadn't understood all of that, but one word came across loud and clear. “Pig? You're calling that little fluffball Pig?”

Ron huffed and sat up. “Ugh. Too early.” He groaned and rubbed his face. “Er, what'd you say, mate? Oh, right. Yeah, well, if you ask Ginny,” he adopted a squeaky, high-pitched tone, “his proper name is Pigwidgeon.” He scoffed. “Ridiculous name for the little runt, but it's too late now. Bloody idiot owl won't answer to anything else.”

The owl bobbed his head so forcefully, the bird toppled off of the sill and had to flap its wings to avoid crashing into the floor. 

“Whee!”

“Bloody disgrace,” said Ron with a snort.

Harry frowned at the strange beast. “Where'd he come from?”

Ron yawned and scratched his belly. “Funny story, that. Got here just before you did. Seems Great Uncle Herbert's scops got a little too friendly with a pygmy owl or something, and he had a load of chicks to find homes for. That one was apparently meant for Ginny, but he got attached to me instead, so I guess I'm stuck with him now.”

For all that he acted annoyed, Ron grinned as if he was pleased with the mix-up. 

Harry watched the owl bounce happily all about. “But, uh, can he take letters and such?”

“‘Course he can. It's a wizarding owl, innit?” 

‘Pig’ puffed up his chest in pride. 

Ron huffed. “Well, when a light breeze doesn't blow him off course, anyway.”

Pig deflated with a raspberry sound. Harry snorted. Leave it to Ron to get the weirdest owl in all of Britain. 

Ugh. Scabbers had been a bit more than weird though, hadn't he?

Harry grimaced. “Uh, we are sure he's an owl this time, right?”

“First thing I checked, mate. And Mum. And Dad. And Bill and Charlie. And the twins. Hell, even Percy checked him over. Percy said something about him irritated him, but Percy's a prat who hates anything not lined out in the rules and such, and everyone else likes him. At any rate, he's definitely an owl.”

“Whoo-hooo!”

Harry chuckled. “All right, all right. Glad you've got a real pet now. But I'm up anyway, so I guess I'm going to go help Mum with breakfast.”

“Your funeral.”

“You won't be complaining when you're stuffing your gob.”

“Nope, sure won't!”

“Hoo!”

Harry snorted. “I'll see if I can sneak in a treat or two for you too, Pig.” With a yawn, he stretched and climbed out of bed. “Of all the names, Pig. Really.”

He snickered all the way to the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Harry might have guessed that the peace he had carved out for himself wouldn't go unchallenged for long. Harry had just settled into a seekers' match with Ginny, Ron, and the twins—Pig couldn't stop zooming around like a fluffy snitch—when Molly called him back to the house. When the others made to follow, Molly shook her head. 

"We just need Harry for a moment." Her expression turned hard as flint. "He will be back out shortly."

Harry frowned. Between Molly's clear irritation and the chill building in his chest—Severus' emotions, not his own—Harry's hackles went up. Something wasn't right. 

He followed Molly into the kitchen. There he found Arthur at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a smile edged in steel. And, in the corner, stood an old man with a long beard and a benign expression. 

Harry's spine went rigid and lava boiled in his gut, but he managed, somehow, to slam his Occlumency shields in place and thus hide the tempest raging within. 

"Headmaster," he said, his voice cool. "What did you want with me?"

"Ah, there you are, Harry." The old man twinkled at him and motioned towards the door. "Perhaps I might have a moment to speak to you in private?"

Molly crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a dark look. "Albus Dumbledore, whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of us."

Harry weighed his options. He could, like Molly, refuse the headmaster's request. Merlin knew he didn't trust the sod as far as he could throw him, but the coldness of Severus' worry kept growing, and Harry knew to put up a flat refusal now would be crossing a dangerous line. 

He shook his head. "Mum, it's all right. We can talk for a minute. We'll just be…."

"In my study," said Arthur with a wan smile for Harry and a stern look for Dumbledore. "And we will retrieve you in fifteen minutes."

Dumbledore gave them a bemused frown, as if he couldn't understand why Molly and Arthur wanted to protect Harry from him. Then again, given his wilful blindness about everything else, he probably didn't.

"All right, Dad," said Harry. "I'll be out in a minute."

Arthur nodded and waved them on, but stopped Dumbledore at the door. "Albus, I will remind you now that you are Harry's headmaster, and Harry is your student. You have absolutely no right to attempt to force him out of a home where he is safe and loved and back into a life of abuse."

"No, he doesn't," said Harry sharply. "I'll listen to what you have to say, sir, but I have no intention of ever setting foot anywhere near my relatives again."

"Unless, of course, we decide to press charges," Arthur said, his voice mild but his eyes hard as stone. 

Harry had no desire to drag his sob stories out in front of a judge, but he kept that to himself. Arthur's words carried a subtle threat, not only to Harry's vile relatives, but to the arsehole who had flaunted all child protective laws to place Harry in their care. He couldn't let them be too hostile to the old bastard, but this much was safe. Anything that kept him well away from the Dursleys and Black was fine by Harry. 

Besides, Dumbledore knew how protective Molly and Arthur were of their brood. He must also know that, for them to support Harry's decision to emancipate himself, Harry must have told them of the Dursleys' crimes. Given that, Dumbledore would expect them to be angry. Anything less would engender as much suspicion as outright hatred. 

Dumbledore's smile was wan at best. "Of course. Now, Harry, if you're ready?"

Harry gave him a curt nod and led him into Arthur's study. Dumbledore conjured seating and a tea table for them. 

"Tea, Harry?"

Harry didn't trust him not to doctor it. "No thank you. We won't be in here long enough to enjoy it."

Dumbledore's smile thinned. "Ah, yes. About the… situation, Harry, I must say I'm surprised at you. Emancipating yourself removed the protection of your mother's blood. Tom will find it easier to hurt you now, and all to avoid a bit of discipline at your relatives' hands."

Harry's stomach jolted and fire surged in his veins. "Discipline? No, sir. Serving detention is discipline. Being starved, beaten, and stuffed into the cupboard is criminal abuse. If I do decide to press charges, they will go to prison." And Dumbledore would be in hot water. 

Dumbledore gave Harry a sorrowful look. "Why then did you never come to me?"

"I did. Repeatedly. And you told me every time that the blood wards were more important than my well-being."

Dumbledore sighed and let his head fall. "I was only trying to keep you safe. Of course your well-being mattered. I'm hurt that you believe so little of me."

Harry forced himself not to tell the old man precisely where he could stuff his holier-than-thou attitude and focused on the situation at hand. "None of that mattered, sir. Voldemort rendered the protections useless when he resurrected himself with my blood. With dementors running amok in Privet Drive and Black trying to assault me every two seconds, I had little other choice but to take action to protect myself."

"I ask again, Harry, why did you not simply come to me?"

Harry's gaze turned sharp. "You mean like I did for the Dursleys, Black, Lupin, and Crouch? Tell me, sir, if I had asked you to put me somewhere safer, would you have listened?"

Dumbledore's eyes held both reproach and sorrow. "Have I not always listened?"

Harry wasn't going there. "Is there a reason you came today besides the fact that I emancipated myself? Only we're running short on time, and this conversation is getting us nowhere."

Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose. Yes, I did come with a purpose. Sirius is part of the Order, Harry, as is Remus. And, if the Order is determined to meet at Brightwood House, then Sirius and Remus will need access."

"You expect me to let the man who nearly killed my best friend have free access to my house? Or his toady who sat back and watched it happen? Over my dead body, sir. If Black and Lupin have something to say, they can pass it through you. I will not, now or ever, allow either of them access to any of my properties."

Dumbledore frowned. "That's rather unreasonable, Harry. Sirius is your godfat—"

"No, sir. I am an emancipated adult. I have absolutely no need for a godfather and less for a godfather who nearly murdered my best friend and my professor on at least five separate occasions."

"But, Harry—"

"No. I will not change my mind on this, sir. He's a danger to society. Frankly, the only reason I haven't reported him to the aurors is the fact that I can't stomach the dementors and what they do to people."

"My boy, while I admit Sirius has made mistakes, he is still a member of the Order."

"Not as far as I'm concerned. And, while we're at it, sir, unfair detentions, being a snarky bat, taking points for breathing too loudly—those are mistakes. Nearly ripping out my professor's throat for no reason at all is a crime. There is a difference.”

Dumbledore gave him a solemn look. "Harry, you do understand that Severus was a Death Eater, and all that implies?"

"Of course. The difference is, Headmaster, that Snape came to his senses and saw how terrible the Dark side really is. Black? Well, if he isn't a Death Eater now, he's doing a damn good impression of one, if you ask me." Harry moved to the door. "I have nothing else to say on this matter, sir. I don't trust either Black or Lupin anywhere near me or my family. If you want them in the Order, you're going to have to deal with being the messenger boy for the rest of us. We don't."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, Remus is the Order's only contact for the werewolf packs. He's never attempted to kill you either."

"Never? So I just imagined him going feral in third year, did I?"

"That was an honest mistake."

"You know, Headmaster, you sure do let those lethal mistakes go quickly. I wonder if you would've welcomed Crouch into the Order, too, had Fudge not gotten to him first."

"Harry, that's unfair. I never let a Death Eater near you."

"You hired Voldemort himself to teach me! And you hired Crouch! Who's on the roster this year, sir? Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore blanched and dropped his head. "I was unaware that either man was a threat."

"Because you didn't listen. Just like you're not listening now."

"I am one old man in a terrible war, Harry. I am only trying to protect you."

'Bullshite.' 

Harry huffed and rubbed his scar, trying to get a grip on his temper before he blew their cover entirely. Severus' worry hadn't abated in the least, and for good reason. Harry couldn't reasonably let the old goat get away with any of the demands he had made, and yet, Dumbledore was bound to be upset if he left the Burrow with none of the things he wanted and undeniable proof that Harry no longer trusted him at all. 

What on earth was he supposed to do? Was there any kind of acceptable compromise that would still keep Harry's loved ones safe? 

Hm. Dumbledore had asked for access for Black and Lupin, hadn't he? Harry absolutely refused to let a Death Eater anywhere near his family, but Lupin wasn't a threat except for one night of the month. In fact, he was the biggest coward Harry had ever met. As long as they stayed on top of what plans Lupin had and hadn't overheard and protected themselves accordingly, perhaps allowing the werewolf access to the Order house wouldn't be too much of a risk. 

And if Lupin proved that it was, Harry could always ward him back out.

"Look, I tell you what, sir. I'm not letting Black anywhere near my properties, but I'll grant Lupin conditional access for Order meetings only. No visits, no hanging out after the meetings, no crashing on my sofa after the full moon. He won't be able to get anywhere near the house on the full moon actually, as I can't trust him to take his potions responsibly. That's as far as I'm willing to budge on this, sir."

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. "Well, I'm relieved that you're giving Remus a chance, at least."

Harry gave Dumbledore a sharp look. "I said I'd let him in for the meetings. That's it."

Dumbledore's expression turned somber. "Harry, your parents would have liked you to have someone to watch out for you."

Harry stood tall. "I have six brothers, two sisters, and two parents now who would die before they let me come to harm, not to mention loads of friends from every house and walk of life, and most of the Hogwarts professors, too." And Severus, of course. "I'd say I'm doing pretty good for myself now, actually." 

A knock on the door saved him from charging on and further risking their position. While the headmaster undoubtedly deserved an earful, Harry and his allies weren't secure enough to make a bold statement against Dumbledore yet.

"If you're finished," said Arthur in a voice that indicated Dumbledore had better not press his luck, "your siblings have all come inside for a bit of a pick-me-up, Harry, and there's fresh tea and biscuits to go around."

Harry gave him a relieved smile. "Yes, Dad. I think we're finished here." He dashed for the kitchen, refusing to give Dumbledore time to argue. Ginny and the boys had all piled in around the table, each looking windblown and muddy and happy to see Harry. "Sorry about the wait, everyone. Ooh, are those chocolate biscuits?" He grabbed one and chomped one end just in time to catch the twins' devious smirk. 

"Oh no. What have you two done n—oh—ouw!"

Harry's perspective shot up and his legs splayed. His arms dropped and lengthened until he stood on all fours, gangly and awkward and altogether too large for the Weasleys' crowded kitchen. A strained bleat escaped him, and the younger Weasleys burst into giggles. 

"Cocoa Camel Biscuits!" Fred said with a guffaw. 

George grinned. "Our best work yet!"

"Boys!" Molly gave them an exasperated glare. "How many times must I tell you not to bring your trick sweets to the dinner table!"

"I'm hurt, Mum," said Fred. "Of course we wouldn't dream of interrupting one of your scrumptious suppers."

"We aren't animals, you know."

Harry gave an amused sort of chatter. 

"Harry's got that covered just fine anyway," said Fred with a grin. 

"And how," said George. "Besides, this is just the tea time table!"

Harry shifted back into himself with a laugh, and Molly's stern expression melted a little.

"Well, I suppose I can overlook it… this time." Her smile turned cool and frosty as Dumbledore stepped into the kitchen. "Albus, are you staying for tea?"

He opened his mouth and beamed as if he might accept, but Harry supposed not even a man as self-absorbed as the headmaster could miss the aura of anger and reproach in Molly's icy gaze, nor the distrustful looks of her brood and her guests, at least those present. Even the twins' usual jollity had vanished into an aura of fierce protectiveness. Everyone shifted closer to Harry, and Dumbledore's expression faltered. Then, Arthur stepped into the kitchen, and the grim warning on his face clinched the headmaster' decision.

"I… suppose I must decline at this time." Dumbledore gave them a thin smile an idiot could see through. "Busy time of year and all."

"Of course, Albus." Molly's uncharacteristic refusal to pester him into accepting was as clear a snub as Harry’s outright fury. The headmaster's shoulders slumped. 

"I suppose I will see you when school begins then, Harry."

"And you might even see the rest of us too, sir," said Fred with a cold smile and an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

George hugged Harry’s other side. "We haven't decided to ditch Hogwarts and make our own fortunes, after all."

"Not yet anyway."

"Though, if you hire another Death Eater as a Defence Professor—"

"Or, you know, the Supreme Berk himself—"

"Again," Harry muttered.

"We might change our minds," said Fred and George together.

Molly opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. "Much as I want you to finish your NEWTs, I actually can't fault that logic." 

Dumbledore coughed delicately. "Ah, well, I will be doing intense screening this year to prevent just that. So, I suppose I really should be off. Plenty of work to do. Goodbye, until September, children."

"Goodbye, headmaster." Harry and Hermione were the only ones who bothered to say it, mainly for the purpose of keeping their cover, at least in Harry's case. Hermione's ingrained politeness might have also kicked in, but Harry suspected she had the exact same idea in mind that he did. The fact that she didn't quite meet the headmaster's eyes reinforced that impression.

The door shut behind the old man, and Ron gave an annoyed huff. "Oh now he remembers the rest of us exist. Humph."

"His obsession with you is a little scary sometimes, Harry," said Ginny with a grimace. The way she moved closer to his side, as if she wanted to protect him personally made him squirm a little. She was just his little sister now. 

Right?

"Yes, well, I've had more than I want to see of him today already," said Harry, "so might we just have our tea and get back to the match?"

"There's a reason he's the brains of the operation," said George in a stage whisper to Hermione. She just nodded, giggling a little. 

"If you say so," said Ron with a shrug. 

Harry nudged his shoulder and returned his attention to the biscuits, though he carefully avoided any of the chocolate variety this time. 

Shadow weaved his way through the cornfields outside of the Burrow and towards the cat flap Charlie had installed in the kitchen door last night. Crookshanks was only a frequent visitor, but with Harry staying there full-time, they had all made accommodations for his pets as well. Hedwig hooted from the owl roost, and Shadow chattered at her as he passed. The pygmy owl Ron had acquired over the summer also gave a whee of greeting. Shadow huffed at the annoying little thing and scurried for the door, tail twitching like mad. Merlin, but something about that little irritant rubbed him the wrong way. Not that Severus had ever had much patience for hyperactive pests, but Pig made all of the others look tame. 

The owl gave a disappointed hooo, and Shadow slipped into the house with a shudder. 

The Burrow was quiet. Moonlight spilled through the windows onto knitted afghans and weathered hardwood. Shadow avoided the creaky fourth step and paused outside the door to the twins’ room. By the smells pervading the area and the light under the door, he made an educated guess that the boys were working on their pranks again. With a huff, he scurried away from the scene of the crime—quickly—and up one floor to the room Harry and Ron shared. 

Hm. Light spilled out from under Ginevra's door, too. Shadow listened at the crack, but he only heard the sounds of a foot tapping against the floor and the occasional scratch of a quill on parchment. No questionable spell auras reached his senses, so he assumed she was either writing in a journal—one of the innocuous sort this time—or working on her summer homework. He put it out of his mind and slipped through the other cat flap on Harry's door, this time only used by actual cats and not evil, abusive bints. 

Well, mostly just for cats anyway. 

Harry jolted awake as Shadow jumped onto the pillow beside him. 

“Oh, there you are.” He rubbed Shadow's back sleepily. “All right there?”

Shadow purred, then jumped down and assumed his human shape. He ended up on one knee beside Harry's bed. 

“Harry, what happened with Albus?”

Harry rubbed his eyes and pressed up on his elbows. “Is he fuming?”

“He… is not happy, but no, I would not say he is fuming. The truth of the matter is that he has said so little today that I find myself concerned for our safety.”

“He wanted me to let Black and Lupin into Brightwood House. I told him Black wasn't allowed on any of my properties, full stop, but I thought it might be bad for us if I didn't give him something he wanted. So I said I would let Lupin in for Order meetings only. He was disappointed that I wasn't ready to cosy up to the bastard and be his best mate, of course, but he did, at least, get something he was after.”

Severus rubbed Harry's hair. “Well done. I assume everyone else was extremely hostile?”

“They certainly weren't friendly. I reigned them in as best as I could. Though I got a bit snippy with him too before I figured out what to do about Lupin.”

“That is probably safer than if you had showed no irritation at all. He already knows you are angry, despite his rose-tinted view of his complicity in nearly every affair that concerns us.” 

Harry let out a soft sigh. “Thank Merlin. So we might pull through this unscathed?”

Severus couldn't answer that. “We have done all we can to mitigate the damage. Now, we must wait to see how Albus will react, and the Dark Lord as well.”

Harry grimaced. “Right.”

“I will keep an eye on them both as much as possible.”

Harry frowned. “Oh. Does that mean you have to go to Riddle tonight?”

“I could not even if I wanted to. I am unaware of his whereabouts at this time.”

“Oh no. Does that mean he's out terrorising people?”

“Possibly, but I think not. From all I can tell, he has decided to use Fudge's wilful blindness as an excuse to lie low and gather support under the aurors’ noses.”

“Which is good and bad.”

“Yes. At least it gives us time to prepare for the fallout. There is little else we can do now other than to train you and your faithful companions. In the meantime, would you like me to keep you company tonight?”

“Yeah. I like knowing you're with me.”

Ron rolled over and snorted, and Severus shifted back into Shadow. Harry scooped him up and set him on the bed beside him, curled up against his chest. 

“Oh.” Ron slurred, “Izzat Shadow, Har?”

“Yeah, he’s back.”

“Oh. Good. He okay?”

“Yes, fine. A little worried, but so are we all.”

“Yeah.” Ron gave a colossal yawn. “‘Night, mates.” With that, he closed his eyes and was asleep again almost before he hit the pillow. 

“Goodnight, Shadow,” Harry murmured, and closed his eyes. 

Shadow purred and let the comfort of Harry's embrace and his companions’ trust carry him off into dreams.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Severus watched Albus sort through the rather short stack of applications on his desk and bit back a growing surge of anger and worry. Two weeks. Two weeks he had waffled between candidates, never making a decision, and Severus’ patience had reached its end. 

“For Merlin's sake, Albus. If you’re that worried, hire someone from the Order.”

Albus opened his mouth. “Well, I did think about hiring—”

“Someone other than a known fugitive and attempted murderer with a penchant for mutilating students and professors alike, if you please.”

Albus pursed his lips and returned to his applications. “As I said before, there is no one suitable.”

“No one? Did Bill Weasley not recently express a wish to be closer to home? I am certain I overheard something to that end.” While posing as Shadow, though Albus couldn’t possibly know that. 

“Did he?” Albus frowned. “Why did he not tell me?”

Severus resisted the urge to grind his palm into his forehead, barely. “Why indeed. Albus, you know the Weasleys are angry with you. I detest the brat and spurn anything like oversentimentality, and even I am shocked and disillusioned at your treatment of the Potter spawn. How do you suppose the Weasleys, who, by definition, are the biggest bleeding-heart Gryffindors in the Order, could be any less so?”

Albus’ shoulders slumped a bit. “I had supposed their anger might have… eased a little by now.”

“Their anger? Perhaps, but their trust in you was shaken also, and that is not so easily won back once lost.” Merlin, didn't Severus understand that truth. 

Albus sighed. “Perhaps.” He fiddled with the applications again. “The truth of the matter is, Severus, that I am quite lost on whom would be safe to appoint, particularly with the Ministry looking for a reason to discredit anyone I choose.”

“A very good argument as to the reason to make a choice, before the Ministry does it for you.”

Albus shook his head abstractedly. “The Ministry has no sanction over my professors. I—”

“The Ministry has no sanction in a Scottish magical school? Albus, have you lost your mind? Of course they have sanction! We are charged with instructing the next generation of entitled pureblood spawn as much as we are the recent influx of Muggleborn brats, and they would not see their own heirs left to flounder.”

“Of course, but Cornelius trusts me to teach the children.”

“Cornelius trusts—by the gods, have you been ignoring the Prophet for the entirety of these past few weeks, Albus? Since the end of the Triwizard, Cornelius has painted the Potter brat out to be a vicious liar one week and a complete mental case the next. He has staunchly denied any claim of the Dark Lord's return and has gone out of his way to silence the voices of anyone who claims otherwise. I know the Diggory boy has tried to get the truth published, but Fudge suppressed it, and this is the man you insist has faith in your judgement? Do you not realise he has also denounced you as a liar in every single one of those publications, too?”

Albus blinked several times. “Well, yes, but it is all a front. I am sure, when it comes down to the wire, Cornelius will see reason.”

“As you have done, you mean?” Severus’ dangerous tone could not be mistaken for anything less than pure rage, and yet….

“Yes, precisely.”

Severus slammed his hand on Albus’ desk, sending the applications flying. “You have dismissed, ignored, trivialised, and manipulated my counsel to serve your ends over and over for the past few years—counsel that has, on every single occasion, been proved to be correct. You even ignored your own Golden Boy, and you dare to pretend as though you are not as stubborn and wilfully blind as Fudge?” 

He stepped back with a snarl. “I will tell you, again, what will happen if you continue this ill-advised dawdling, Albus, though I have a strong feeling it will prove as useless as every other time in the past. Nevertheless, I must try, because you hold a position of extreme importance to both the war and Britain as a whole, and you have blinded yourself to the danger we are all in.”

Severus spoke in a hard, unyielding tone. “Cornelius Fudge is not your ally, Albus. He is mad with power and madder still with fear that you will take it from him. He is all too aware that your reputation is unblemished, and his own does not hold nearly as much sway over the public. He knows, if you should ever challenge him to take over as Minister, he will go down in flames.”

“But that is quite absurd, Severus. I have no desire to be Minister.”

“That doesn't matter when Fudge is quite as detached from reality as you appear to be as of late. He is a dictator, whatever he believes to the contrary. He knows he has maintained his position this long not by merit, but by manipulation, bribery, and outright deceit. He is, as every other leader who holds their position by dishonourable means, accustomed to his posh lifestyle and paranoid of who will attempt to take it from him next. You are no exception, Albus. In fact, you are the greatest threat to his authority.”

“But I don't want to take—”

“I know that, Albus! Fudge doesn't see it that way. Should you give him any leeway to take authority and control from under your nose, he will take your power, regardless of your wishes, and he will not prioritise the safety or well-being of our students or professors as you or I would do. He will want people in here that tout his line, or else.”

Albus frowned and leaned back. “I cannot believe that Cornelius has truly lost so much faith in me.”

“Did he not feed Crouch to the Dementors right under your nose? Or, if that is not enough to make his position plain….” Severus picked up a letter off of Albus’ desk, one the man had taken pains to hide behind his inkwell at the start of this meeting. “I wonder, Albus, if you would like to explain why you have a Ministry summons for Harry Potter on your desk?”

Albus waved him off. “It is simply a misunderstanding. I have already dealt with it.”

“Is that so? Then you won't mind if I have a look, hm?” Severus ripped open the letter and removed the contents before Albus could protest. “A criminal hearing? For unauthorised use of magic? ‘Offense registered on… the second of August?’ That could only be for the dementors, but how on earth would the Ministry even kn—Ah. So it was Fudge who sent them to Surrey then.” He glared at the old man. “And this is the man you stake your faith in, Albus?”

Albus failed to suppress a flinch. “The Ministry likely picked up on the charm through the wards around the Dursley residence. There is no clear evidence to suggest that the dementors had anything to do with the Ministry, particularly as they appear to be breeding now, Merlin forbid.” He snatched the letter away. “And I'll thank you not to read mail that does not belong to you, Severus.”

Severus gave him a baleful look. “Is that so?”

Albus coughed lightly. “Among our allies, at least.”

Severus snorted. “Old man, you truly are delusional, aren’t you? Even if your theory of the dementors’ origin held any merit—and it does not—Fudge is demanding a full criminal trial for a single use of underage magic in a life-or-death situation, Albus! If Fudge would throw Potter under the Knight Bus so thoroughly when the brat didn't even cast the charm and it is easily proveable that his patronus form does not match the one listed on the Ministry reports—a trial that I noticed one rather conspicuous member of the Wizengamot was not invited to—if he could go so far as to do this, then what makes you think he will let you off of the proverbial hook?”

“As I said, Severus, I have faith that he will see reason before it goes so far.”

“It has already gone so far! Or did you intend to keep Potter in the dark about his own bloody trial and let the brat take the fall for your delusions of grandeur?” Severus scoffed. “By all means, let him suffer. I will not deny he probably deserves a little solid discipline, but I do imagine it will make life in the Order significantly more difficult for you when it comes to light that Potter was expelled and sent to Azkaban for your negligence.”

Albus flushed. “I had intended to take him myself if the situation didn't blow over.”

“And when did you intend to tell him? The trial is tomorrow morning, Albus!”

“I… well, I thought it would do him no good to worry. He is happy, and—”

“You blind, ignorant fool! The Ministry will run him over if he has no time to prepare his mind for what is to come!”

“I did intend to discuss the matter beforehand, but really, it is not a problem, Severus. I had planned to go to the Ministry as soon as we are finished here and see to it that this mess is… cleared up.”

“And if you cannot, as you say, clear it up? If I am, as history would indicate, correct about the situation at hand, and your influence with Fudge is not nearly as powerful as you might believe? If this ‘trial’ is simply a farce to do away with a boy whom Fudge sees as the biggest threat to his cosy little narrative of a peaceful nation, as I fully suspect that it is, what will you do then?”

“Then we will simply attend the trial and convince the Wizengamot of its folly.”

“I see.” Severus stood tall, blood boiling and his fists clenched hard enough to draw blood. “Once again, it is left up to me to clean up your mess.” He tossed the Ministry letter ribbon on Albus’ desk. “Do what you will, Albus. You have heard my opinion of both affairs. Ignore it to your cost. I am finished with trying to make you see reason, for the time being, at least.”

With that, Severus stalked out and slammed the door, his heart pounding in his throat. 

Oh God. Had he thought their lack of a Defence professor was the worst of his concerns with Albus? A Ministry hearing for his soul-bond, in sixteen hours, was far worse. He had precious little time to prepare his young charge for what was surely to come, and the implications of Albus leaving it so late… Severus didn't like to think of it.

He made his way to his quarters, forcing himself not to sprint, until his door closed safely behind him. 

“That bloody delusional, megalomaniacal idiot!”

Salazar poked his head into his portrait. “Severus? What on earth has Albus done now?”

Severus growled. “That utterly blind, manipulative bastard is so convinced of his own charm, he is risking the entire war and Harry’s safety, as well as that of the entirety of Britain, on the slim hope that Cornelius Fudge will somehow grow a conscience between now and tomorrow morning and, blinded by the light of Albus’ supreme goodness, suddenly call off the bloody criminal trial he has set for Harry at eight in the morning!”

Salazar gasped. “A criminal trial? For a sixteen-year old boy? What in Merlin’s name are the charges?”

“Bogus, of course. Fudge is attempting to pin the patronus charm I cast to save Harry and his oaf of a cousin from the dementors on Harry.”

“But, even if he had cast such a charm—”

“It falls under the clause for emergency circumstances. Fudge doesn't care, Salazar. He wants Harry out of the picture and never mind how.”

Salazar grimaced. “Dear gods. You had best be swift, Severus. Your soul will suffer if your soulmate is imprisoned in Azkaban, or worse.”

Severus shuddered. “Over my dead body.”

“That may well be the cost if this is allowed to go much further.”

“An unfortunate truth.” Severus took a steadying breath. “Right. I am off then.”

“Good luck, Severus. And to young Harry as well.”

Severus gave the portrait a cursory nod of thanks and rushed to grab whatever he thought he might need to pull his soul-bond's arse from the fire, again. 

Harry reached for the snitch, but a sudden surge of fury and terror—Severus’ emotions, not his own—caused him to fumble it. Ginny caught it instead, but her triumph didn't last long. 

“Harry?” 

Harry waved her off and tried to force a smile. “Nice catch, Ginny. I'm just gonna take a breather, if that's all right? Great game, by the way.”

Ginny frowned. “Sure, it's all right, but are you okay?”

“Maybe a little tired. Been a long day.”

“I guess.” Ginny landed beside him and walked back towards the rest of the family. “Harry, um, you know, if something is bothering you, you can talk to me, don't you?”

Harry gulped. “Uh, yeah.” A creepy sensation crawled down his spine and writhed in his gut. “Yeah, but, um, maybe not right now. I just—it's a bloke thing, you know?” 

Her eyes flicked downwards and quickly away. “Oh. Oh. Merlin. Hell of a time for it, huh?”

Harry nearly swallowed his tongue. Did she think…? But maybe it was less dangerous to let her believe that than the truth, however embarrassing it was. 

“Er… yeah. Awful timing.” His face burned. “If you don't mind, I'm just gonna… go.”

Ginny giggled, her face bright red. “Yeah, you do that. Uh… good luck?”

Harry choked. “Dear gods.” His ears and face on fire, he all but bolted for the safety of the house. 

“Harry?” Ron raced after him. “Oi, you all right there? Do I need to go sort Ginny out?”

Harry groaned. “Merlin, no. Don't ask her.” He started up the stairs. “She thinks I'm having… boy problems.”

“Uh, boy prob—oh. Ugh. How on earth did she—”

“Don't ask that either. I just let her think that was the truth because—because it's Shadow, Ron. Something is really wrong.”

“Oh. Merlin, what now?” 

“I don't know.” Harry pulled his brother close and whispered, “He didn't say he had anything to do today. Unless he was called, or Dumbledore is showing his arse again, I can’t think of any reason why he would be so upset.”

“Damn.” Ron nudged him towards their bedroom. “Come on. Let's go in here for a bit. Ginny won't bother us here, ‘specially not if she thinks we're talking about, er, boy stuff. And, if our friend has something to tell us, it's safest for him in here.”

“Right.” Harry opened the door and ducked under a flying puffball. 

“Wheeee!”

Ron sighed. “At least try for a bit of dignity, Pig.”

Harry snorted. Might be a bit of a lost cause there, mate.”

Pig gave a disappointed hooo and flopped onto the sill. Ron sat on his bed by the window and petted Pig's feathers. “So, wanna play chess or something while we wait?”

Harry winced. “He's so afraid, Ron.”

“I know, mate, but we can't do anything about it until we know what's going on. Might as well keep your mind off of things until he's back.”

Harry relented with a sigh. “All right. Maybe try not to completely pulverise me in ten turns this time?”

“Where's the fun in that?”

Harry huffed and reached for his pawn, but an over-excitable little owl got there first. “Hey! I wasn't going to put that there.”

“Too bad, mate, game's already registered your move.” Ron grinned and countered him. “Nice one, Pig.”

He was less enthused when Pig also swooped down on Ron's pieces next turn. 

“Geroff, will you?”

Harry took Ron's knight with a wry grin. “Too late, game's already registered your move.”

Ron huffed and attempted to play through three more turns before Pig's help put him in check. “All right, Pig, off with you. Man can't concentrate with all this interference going on.”

“Well, I don't mind,” Harry said with a snort. “Nice not to lose for once.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you're playing a ruddy birdbrain.”

“Whoooo….”

The cat flap opened, and Shadow hopped into the room. Ron stood and opened the window. “All right, time to go, Pig, seriously. Shadow doesn't have the patience to deal with your nonsense, and I'd rather you not be eaten today.”

With a little eep, Pig zoomed out of the window and made for the owl roost. 

Shadow huffed in annoyance at the bird, then made a beeline for Harry’s lap and buried his head in his stomach. 

“Oh, that's not good. He's really Harry rubbed Shadow's back. “Shh. You're safe now.”

Ron shut the window and sat on the bed beside them. “Hullo, Shadow. What's going on? Can you tell us?”

Shadow shuddered and jumped down. He had assumed his human form before his feet hit the floor. 

“I must. The situation is quite urgent. We will need to meet with your family in a few moments, but I must prepare you first, Harry.” Severus sat on the chair across from the boys, his expression grim. “I confronted Albus tonight on his dawdling over choosing a Defence professor.”

“Isn't it good that he's taking time to consider the options though?” Ron grimaced. “Better than hiring Death Eaters and You-Know-Who anyway.”

“Call him Riddle if you can't say the other name, Ron,” said Harry. “And yeah, it's better, but he's taking too long now. And the Ministry is ready to take advantage of it.”

“Exactly.” Severus wrapped his arms around his waist. “I told him as much, but he insisted that Fudge would ‘see reason’ before it became an issue.”

“See reason?” Ron huffed. “Where has Dumbledore been for the last few weeks, sir? It's only been plastered all over the Prophet every other day.” He adopted a mocking tone. “‘Britain is perfectly peaceful, thank you very much. Oh, pay no attention to bridges being blown up and the dementors breeding like mad, that's just a ruddy turn of the season.’” He scoffed in disgust. “See reason, come on! All Fudge can see is the inside of his own ar—uh, his you-know-what.”

“Yes, so I said as well,” said Severus. “Albus truly believes that his stellar reputation will absolve him from guilt and the consequences thereof, but also that it will bring anyone who goes astray running back to him before long.”

Harry scowled. “I suppose that means he believes you and I will come crawling back to him too?”

“Of course, but that is only the tip of the iceberg, as it were. You see, while I was haranguing him, I noticed a Ministry-sealed letter on his desk—a letter addressed to you, Harry. I managed to confiscate it, and I do have a memory of its contents, which I will show you in a moment—but, Harry, Merlin help us. It was a subpoena. Fudge has you scheduled for a full criminal trial in front of the entire Wizengamot at eight in the morning.”

Harry's heart dropped. “A trial? But for what?”

“The truth? He wants to be rid of you before you can threaten his position further, so he is attempting to pin a crime on you, not that we shall stand by and let him get away with it.” 

Harry gasped and whimpered. “S-Severus, I don't—what have I done?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Severus held Harry's shoulders. “Peace. Frightening as this situation is, all it will take to prove your innocence is a record of which ‘criminal spell’ you supposedly cast, which will be read before the entire court at the start of session. The instant you prove that your patronus does not match the records given, you will be cleared.”

“But will they try to accuse me for casting it in court?”

“They cannot, when you are obligated to provide a defence, and they are obligated to hear it. As well, you would be casting upon the direction of the Ministry itself. They could not turn their own orders against you without making themselves out to be the villains and losing a significant portion of the Wizengamot's trust and respect, and that is the last thing Fudge wants. Neither will your parents stand for such a blatant miscarriage of justice against one of their own brood, be you redheaded or not.”

Harry shuddered and leaned into Severus' touch. “I-I wish you could stand by me.” 

“I will wait here as Shadow. I am sorry I cannot offer more.”

Harry sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I'm just glad you saw it in time. If I hadn't come to the trial…?”

“I'm afraid it wouldn’t have worked out in your favour.”

“Y-yeah.” Harry hugged his waist for comfort. “What do I do, Severus? How do I keep myself safe?”

“For one thing, we shan't trust the time on that summons. Fudge is looking for any excuse to be rid of you, therefore, you shall be at the Ministry the moment the courts open—seven in the morning on weekdays. You will need to do your best to Occlude during your time there, not only to protect your mind, but because it will help keep you calm. As for the rest, we will discuss it with the family present, so they can also prepare.”

Harry nodded and followed Severus to the door. “Severus? The fact that Dumbledore didn't tell me—that isn't good, is it? I mean, not only because I almost missed the trial.”

Ron winced. “You think he kept it back out of spite?”

“I hope not. I really hope not.”

“So do I,” Severus muttered and led the boys out of the room. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Harry clutched Arthur's sleeve, feeling naked without his wand, and made his way through the Ministry, towards the lifts. Severus had done his best to prepare the family, and he had promised them that it would be all right, but Harry couldn't banish the lead weight in his stomach or will the warmth back into his trembling fingers. 

As they entered the lobby, Arthur wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders and hugged him against his side. “Don't you worry, son. The force of law is on our side, much as Fudge would like to pretend that it isn't, and most of the Wizengamot are reasonable people. We're going to be fi—”

“Oi, Harry!”

Harry's spine locked, and a growl left his throat. Rage and suspicion burning in his blood, he turned to face the newcomer, his expression blank and cold. 

“Lupin. What do you want?”

Lupin gulped and took a step back. “Well, uh, Albus said you might need some extra support, and I thought—”

“Oh, he told you, did he?” Harry's voice turned frigid. “When was this, precisely?”

“Uh, last night?”

“I assume your partner in crime was there as well?”

“Er….”

Arthur's fingers tightened on Harry's arm. 

“Of course he was.” Harry Occluded a fierce surge of fury away. “Thanks, but no thanks, Lupin. I've got my dad right here. That's enough for me.”

Lupin blinked. “Your dad? But James is—”

“I meant my adoptive dad, obviously.” Harry met Arthur's eyes. “Dad, we have to hurry.”

Arthur nodded sharply. “That we do.” He steered Harry towards the lifts. “Come on, Harry. The lifts are always busy. Better we arrive sooner rather than later.”

“Right.”

They left Lupin standing in shock, staring after them. 

“So Dumbledore told Black and Lupin last night, but didn't think it necessary to tell us.”

“I'm sure he assumed your friend would take care of it, but….”

“Yeah, it's the buts that worry me.”

“Yes, me as well.” Arthur's grim expression was the closest Harry had ever seen to true fury on his features. “What on earth is he on about? If we hadn't been prepared….”

“Thankfully, my friend is too smart for that.”

Arthur sighed. “Thank Merlin he is your friend, Harry, that is all I have to say, because Albus is looking more and more incompetent by the moment.”

Harry didn't voice the darker worries in his heart, that more than mere incompetence had fuelled the old man's actions. Such a dire accusation, even if it was true, would do none of them any favours. The Weasleys were too open to hide it, and Dumbledore still had the balance of power on his side. Still, this made it more apparent than ever that time was running out. Sooner or later, they would have no choice but to distance themselves from the old man's delusional behaviour, or else. 

He would speak to Shadow about it tonight, if he managed to keep Fudge from throwing him under the bus. 

Bill met them at the lifts, expression tense. “Dad, was that Lupin I saw in the crowd?”

“Yes. Albus apparently thought Harry would need more support.”

“So he sent Lupin, but not us?”

“Apparently so.”

Bill's eyes narrowed, and Harry knew the man was seeing the same implications Harry had. Damn. He had to do something, fast. 

Wait. Why was Bill there at all?

“Bill, not that I'm not happy to see you, but didn't you have to work?”

Bill huffed. “Yes, though I did manage to convince my boss to let me come in after the hearing.” He pulled them both in to murmur, “I came because Mum couldn't.”

“She couldn't?”

“Right. Albus showed up ten minutes ago wanting to bring you to the trial, but he brought that shitehead Lupin runs with, too. She's there guarding the others.”

Harry's heart slammed into his throat. “Oh God! Is Mum okay? The others?”

“Yeah, we already warded the berk out. He couldn't get past them. Albus tried to make mum think the bastard had turned over a new leaf or some such rubbish, but she was tearing him a new one for bringing that monster anywhere near her kids when she sent me along after you.” Bill squeezed his shoulder. “Not to worry. Mum is a world-class dueller. If that idiot is stupid enough to try something, not only will he blow his cover with Albus, but Mum will send them both packing, probably in floo tins.”

“That she will, son,” said Arthur with a wry chuckle. “And Charlie and Percy are there to protect her as well. Not to mention the twins. Merlin help the soul who gets on their bad side.”

Harry let his breath go in a rush. “That’s true.” He winced. “But what about Shadow? That monster hates him.”

Bill patted his shoulder. “Yeah, I remembered. I put him in a carrier and brought him to Fleur's for now. He wasn't happy about going into a cat house, but he was even less happy about him.”

“Fleur Delacour? Why? I didn't even know she was in Britain.”

Bill flushed. “Yeah, she's here, studying for her healer's license. And, um, she might have asked me out, and she likes cats. So….”

Arthur chuckled. “Good luck, son. Bit too much Veela in that one for my taste.”

Harry grinned. “Fleur is brilliant though. I'm glad you're hitting it off. And I trust her with Shadow.”

Bill smiled wryly. “Thanks, kiddo. Now, let's put this aside for the moment and get you to courtroom ten before the trial starts.”

Harry frowned. “Ten? The summons said nine.”

“Albus seems to think it's been changed since.”

“Which means all his attempts to ‘clear things up' only hacked Fudge off even more.”

“Most likely.” Bill shuddered. “Courtroom ten—it’s where they take the most dangerous criminals. Death Eaters, murderers, and so on. The dementors hang out much too close.” He rubbed his arms as if he was cold. “All this for a single charge of underage magic. It's insane.”

“And that will come down hard against Fudge, I think, but we're at the lifts, boys. Best to say nothing else until we're away from the public.”

Harry nodded and kept the thoughts screaming in his brain silent and well-shielded. 

As they approached the courtrooms, the air temperature dropped. 

“They brought the dementors? For this?” Bill seethed. “Fudge has lost his bloody mind!”

“Or he still has it,” said Harry in a quiet, shaky tone, “and this ‘trial’ is just an excuse to….”

To kill him and get away with it.

Bill hissed. “Fuck. Oh, sorry, Dad. Just… ugh.”

Arthur nodded, expression grim. “We already know it's a sham and why, boys. We also know how to prove that. Don’t let this rattle you. Harry, love, stay close.”

Harry sniffled and obeyed. Bill pressed in on his other side. 

“Don't you worry. We won't let these idiots hurt you.”

Harry shuddered and hunched his shoulders. He would have grabbed his wand if the bastard at the check-in desk hadn't taken it. Ice crept along his skin, dug its claws into his soul, set his heart beating faster. He balked as they reached the doors and the chill turned to a freeze. 

“I-I can't,” Harry whispered. “I can't, not without my wand.”

Arthur held Harry's shoulders. “This once, can you trust Bill and I to shield you?”

Through the door, a feminine voice called, “Calling to order the hearing of the Ministry of Magic, United Kingdom division, versus Harry James Potter.”

Harry winced. 

“You're going to be fine, kiddo.” Bill rubbed his back. “But we have to go now.”

“Charges against Mr. Potter are as follows: one count of unauthorised use of magic by a minor. One count of endangering the statute of secrecy by use of unauthorised magic in a Muggle inhabited area….”

Bill growled. “Damn, Fudge is really trying to conflate those charges.”

“Send the dementors along, their presence is not required today.”

“I disagree, madam. The defendant has shown a predisposition towards dangerous actions—” 

“Harry, love, we have to go now.” Arthur pulled him into a hug. “You're going to be fine. Your dad and your big brother are right here. We won't let him hurt you.”

“Where is the defendant?”

Fudge's voice grated against Harry's ears. “If Potter chose not to appear for his trial, then he admits to his guilt….”

A slight shimmer rippled the air behind Arthur's shoulder, and Harry froze. Was it an attacker? 

No. Harry knew that aura.

[Harry, I can't show my face in there, but I am with you, child.]

[Severus….]

[It will be all right, but you must go, quickly.]

Severus’ fear filtered through to him, and Harry took a steadying breath. Severus was right. He had to do this, for everyone's sake.

Not to mention, Fudge was just begging for a good arse kicking.

“Okay,” Harry forced himself to step into the courtroom. “I-I’m right here.”

Fudge pulled up short. “What? But you weren't suppo—I mean, of course. But as you're a full ten minutes late—”

Bill cried, “Late? The court doesn't even open until twenty minutes from now!”

Fudge puffed up. “Don't speak out of turn, boy. Clearly, court is in session, and you are late. We began at half past.”

“I find it strange that we weren't notified of this change in plans,” said Arthur in a cold, calm voice, “given that the defendant must be allowed to present his case, by law, and he must be present at his trial to do so.”

“We thought we would be here over an hour early, ma'am.” Harry addressed his comment to the woman behind the podium. She wore a stern expression that reminded him of McGonagall, a bit, though her eyes were kind. Harry certainly hoped she listened better than McGonagall, though.

“Is that so?” The woman gave Fudge a stern look. “I was under the impression that you had requested the change in time yourself, Mr. Potter, to allow your relatives time to go to work afterwards.”

“No, ma'am. First I heard of the trial at all was last night, and even then, only because an ally saw the subpoena on someone else's desk. And it listed eight AM as the arrival time.”

“I see. How interesting that we were both, apparently, misinformed.” Her piercing gaze upon Fudge turned sharp. “And your explanation, Minister Fudge?”

Fudge gulped and wiped his brow. “Now, wait just a moment. How do you know he is telling the truth? A dose of Veritaserum would—”

“Veritaserum? For a simple hearing of an underage use of magic? Request denied.”

“Hem-hem!”

Harry frowned at the sound of a woman clearing her throat. The fake, high-pitched tone rubbed him the wrong way. 

The judge turned her stare upon the Wizengamot. “Yes, Madam Umbridge?”

A squat, middle-aged woman with short brown hair and a black bow perched on one side of her head stepped forward. “While I do understand the hesitation to use Veritaserum on a young man, perhaps it would be in the courts’ best interest to take into account this particular young man's history, and a certain tendency to embellish the facts.”

Harry glared at her, but, at Arthur's squeeze to his shoulder, he held back the diatribe building in his head.

The judge's gaze sharpened. “A tendency to lie? What makes you believe that is a verifiable fact?”

“Well, Madam Bones, it's been published in the Prophet quite frequently. I'm sure you've seen the articles since last June?”

“You mean the articles penned by one Rita Skeeter, I assume?”

“Yes, ma'am. A reporter of such integrity cannot be ignored—”

“The self-same reporter who recently claimed that Ludo Bagman was actually a goblin in disguise, and that is why he hasn't been seen since the Triwizard ended?”

Harry barely suppressed a snort. A few scattered titters among the Wizengamot let him know he wasn't the only one who found her comment amusing.

“Ah, yes,” said Umbridge, “perhaps she was a bit mistaken on that article, however—” 

“Madam Umbridge, if Rita Skeeter has taken it upon herself to make Mr. Potter out to be a liar, that only makes me believe he is quite the opposite. Again, request for the use of Veritaserum on a minor is de—”

Umbridge cut across her. “But consider the boy's history! Such a long record of detentions and disrespect for authority is certainly telling. These outbursts cannot be ignored. He is a very volatile young man, and we must be diligent in our search for the truth.”

And now Harry understood why Arthur had advised him to keep quiet.

“You mean the same young man who has waited patiently all this time while you maligned his character in front of the entire Wizengamot, Madam Umbridge?”

Umbridge's honeyed smile turned into a scowl. “Well, perhaps he is being advised—”

“Good. He should have legal counsel. That is, in fact, the law.” 

“But, Madam Bones—”

Bones cut across Fudge's protest with a bang of her gavel. “I've heard enough. We do not dose children for complaints of underage magic that did no harm to anyone's person. Request for Veritaserum denied, and further protest will put the speaker in contempt of court.”

Fudge and Umbridge took their seats again, the former with a scowl and the latter with a prissy “humph!”

Bones chose to ignore their theatrics and gave Harry a stern look that held less of an edge. “Please take your seat in the defendant's chair, Mr. Potter.”

Harry eyed the chair with manacles and shackles attached and winced. “Ma'am, they took my—a-am I really supposed to sit there?”

“Of course you are,” Fudge began, “all dangerous criminals are—”

Bones banged her gavel again. “And, as this is a hearing, not a trial, and we are simply discussing a case of unauthorised, light-oriented, underage magic, Mr. Potter does not, in fact, qualify as dangerous or criminal.” She motioned to a simple table and chair before the podium. “You and your counsel may take a seat here, Mr. Potter.”

Harry let out a sigh of pure relief. The thought of being chained in a hostile Ministry with dementors prowling nearby, and without his wand, left him ill.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

Arthur squeezed his shoulder and led his sons to the table. Bill conjured a chair for himself, as there were only two, and sat beside the chair Arthur steered Harry towards. 

“You're doing great, Harry,” he whispered. “Just remember, keep your temper, stay calm, and let Fudge—and Umbridge too, apparently—hang themselves, just like our friend said to. They're doing a fine job of it already.”

Harry nodded and took his seat. With an encouraging smile, Arthur sat beside him. 

“Now, Mr. Potter,” said Bones, “I would like to hear an explanation of what happened on second August this year, and why you felt inclined to produce a patronus in a Muggle neighborhood, outside of school purview, when my records here state that you were made aware of the laws against underage magic in your second year, when you cast the hovering charm in your relatives’ household.”

“The simple answer is that I didn't cast those charms, ma'am, either time,” said Harry. 

“Neither time?”

“No, ma'am. The hovering charm was cast by a house elf who was trying to protect me in his own way, barmy as it was, and I didn't cast the patronus charm on second August either. I couldn't do. I tried, but I was too terrified by the dementors trying to suck out my soul and my cousin's.”

“Objection!” Fudge cried, “There were no dementors in Surrey! This is the most vicious outrage! I—”

Bones banged her gavel. “Overruled. Mr. Potter, you say there were dementors near your home?”

“Yes, ma'am. I think about five, but I wasn't really clear. My vision had started to fade when the patronus ran through.”

“Hem-hem,” said Umbridge. “There are no records of dementors in Surrey on the day in question, or any day, in fact.”

“I'll bet there are no records of them invading the pitch during the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff quidditch match in my third year either, ma'am,” said Harry, patience exhausted, “but about three-hundred people can verify that it happened regardless.”

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, and Harry shut up.

Umbridge puffed up like a balloon. “Mister Potter, such disrespect will not be tolerated. I—”

“Enough!” Bones banged her gavel. “If the two of you cannot keep quiet until it is your turn to speak, then you may leave the courtroom until you can conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to the court.”

Fudge and Umbridge sat down again, this time both scowling. 

“Now then, Mr. Potter, please give me, in your own words, your account of what happened on the afternoon of the second of August, 1996.”

“Yes, ma'am. I was in the park near the Dursleys’ house—”

“Not your house?”

“I've never been very welcome there, ma'am.”

“You lived there at the time, did you not?”

“During the summer, yes, at least until I was emancipated, ma'am.”

Bones’ expression pinched with concern. “Ah, I remember now. You were emancipated from your relatives’ care due to a history of severe neglect and abuse, yes?”

Harry blanched. “Y-yes, ma'am, but I'd really rather not—it’s just very hard to speak of it, and with the way this hearing has gone already, I….”

“That is quite all right, Mr. Potter. Your history with your relatives is not up for debate, as this hearing is not about them. I simply wanted to verify the facts.”

“Oh. Yes, ma'am, they're horrid people and I'm glad to be free of them.”

“As I am relieved to know you are safe in your new home. Mr. Arthur Weasley, you and your wife have officially adopted Mr. Potter since?”

“Yes, ma'am. He is our son now.”

“Very good. Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Potter. Please do continue with your story now.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Harry, relieved to be off the subject of his family life, even if he understood that the judge had only been concerned with his safety. “As I said, I was in the park with my cat. He's a bit magical, has some Kneazle in him, so he understands me like my owl does. Anyway, I was talking to him, and Dudley, my cousin, walked by the park and heard me. My relatives are severely rhabdophobic, so he threatened to fight me for acting ‘abnormal.’ I warned him not to try it, as I was under the impression that underage magic use was allowed in dangerous situations.”

“Hem-hem—”

Bones waved Umbridge down. “It is allowed, Mr. Potter. Did you cast against your cousin?”

“No, ma'am. Before I could do anything, I noticed the air turning cold and misty. It bothered me, because August is never that cold. I knew something was wrong. That's when I started hearing Mum.”

“Your mother? Do you mean your adoptive mother, Mrs. Molly Weasley?”

“No, ma'am. It's what I hear first when a dementor gets too close—my mum trying to protect me from Voldemort and….” He swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. “And her death.”

“I see. Apologies, Mr. Potter. Are you able to continue?”

“Y-yes, ma'am.” Harry took a steadying breath and went on. “Anyway, when I heard her, I knew immediately that dementors were near, so I advised my cousin to run for it. He's out of shape though, and we couldn't get away fast enough. We ended up in a tunnel, and that's where the dementors pinned Dudley and me and tried to Kiss us.”

“Objection!” Fudge called, “Amelia, the dementors are under control. None of them were in Surrey.”

“I seem to recall hearing that same excuse when the dementors attacked the school at least two separate times two years ago, Minister.” Bones gave Umbridge a hard look. “I would like a full report of the dementors’ positions over the past five months, using the entire list of Ministry tracking charms, on my desk by Monday, madam, and I will not take well to any evidence of alteration.”

“Such a report is quite unnecessary, madam, as the dementors are under control and the country is at peace. Mr. Potter is simply a vicious liar who must be—”

Bones’ expression turned as hard as flint. “By Monday, Delores. And one more attack on Mr. Potter, and you will be held in contempt of court.”

Harry swore he heard Umbridge's teeth grind. 

“Yes, madam.”

Bones nodded shortly and turned a gentler look onto Harry again. “What happened afterwards, Mr. Potter? How did you escape the dementors?”

“The patronus, ma'am. I tried to call mine, but I couldn't. I barely saw what it was.”

Bones nodded and lifted a set of papers off of her desk. “I have already read this to most of the court, Mr. Potter and Messrs. Weasley, but, for the benefit of the Defence, I will read it again. The charges levied against you, Mr. Potter, include the casting of the patronus charm in a Muggle neighborhood without provocation. The presence of dementors in the area would, absolutely, overturn the case in that you were clearly provoked, but, as we have differing accounts to their locations at the time, it will take a few days to verify your story in accordance with the facts. In most cases, I would have had the dementor tracking charms cast and read prior to the court date; however, I, too, was only informed of the hearing late last night, and of the change in time early this morning. This case has been handled in a most unprofessional manner, I'm afraid, and it is quite clear certain parties have a vested interest in silencing your testimony, Mr. Potter.”

Fudge slunk down into his seat, face blanched.

“Rest assured, I will be looking into the mishandling of the entire affair,” Bones went on, “but, as I'm sure we would all like to go home sooner rather than later, and it is quite true that your family must return to work, it occurs to me that there is a simple way to prove or disprove your story.”

Harry nodded. “I can cast the patronus charm here, in full view of the court, if that's allowed, ma'am.”

“It is indeed, as such a charm is necessary to verify your testimony. Before you cast, however, let me remind the court of the records on file concerning the patronus seen that day.” She pushed up her monocle and read from the parchment in hand. “Record of charms cast over Wisteria Walk on second August, 1996. The animagus reversion charm at 17:32:36 hours. A patronus charm in the form of a lioness released at 17:32:59 hours. An Obliviation charm at 17:34:23 hours, and the animagus charm, cast at 17:34:47 hours.” She looked up. “This implies that a passing animagi cast the charm to save you, Mr. Potter, and likely removed the evidence of their passing from your cousin's mind to avoid breaking the Statute of Secrecy; however, to prove or disprove your involvement beyond a shadow of a doubt, I would like you to cast the patronus charm at your leisure.”

Harry winced. “Um, I can’t, ma'am. The clerk at the check-in counter said I had to surrender my wand, as I was on trial.”

Bones’ eyes widened. “Surrender your wand? A child?” She set the parchment on her desk, her lips pursed like McGonagall's when something had infuriated her. “This case has been most severely mishandled, and I will absolutely get to the bottom of it, Mr. Potter. I am tempted to call this a mistrial based on the sheer amount of disrespect shown to you by the court officials; however, certain individuals have made their biases quite plain in these proceedings. To protect you from further injustice, I believe it is safest to retrieve your wand and prove whether or not your patronus matches the one on record, once and for all.” She turned her gaze towards the courtroom doors. “Gene? Please retrieve Mr. Potter's wand from holding, and do be careful about it.”

An auror guard in the back of the courtroom nodded and slipped out of the room. 

“While we are waiting, does anyone else have anything to add—”

“Hem-hem!”

“—Other than the Minister or Madam Umbridge, who have already made their position quite plain,” Bones carried on as if she hadn't been interrupted. “No one was present in Surrey that afternoon?”

No one spoke up, so Bones let it go. “Very well. Then we shall simply wait politely until Auror Downey—”

The courtroom doors opened, and Dumbledore strode in with a mousy woman in a dark blue frock. She looked familiar, but Harry couldn't place her. 

“Just a moment, Minister. I am here with a witness to Harry's case. Apologies that I am late, but I was misinformed of the time. If someone will let Harry know he is needed in court, we may begin.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Harry's gut dropped. Dumbledore? Severus had thought he might show up, but they had expected him to try to pick Harry up at home. Dumbledore, apparently, had had other concerns at the time. Thank Merlin Arthur hadn't been inclined to wait for the old man to show his face. They might have missed the trial altogether.

Bones frowned at Dumbledore and wiped her expression of shock immediately. “Mr. Potter is already present, Mr. Dumbledore, and the hearing has been in progress for half an hour. Your witness may speak while we are waiting on the return of Mr. Potter’s wand, however.”

Dumbledore blinked several times. “Amelia? I… wasn't aware you would be present today.”

“Hm. A mutual acquaintance informed me of the proceedings late last night. As I told the Minister when he attempted to assume control of the hearing, the courtroom is still my jurisdiction. Introduce your witness and have a seat, Mr. Dumbledore.” She motioned to the audience stands. 

Dumbledore jolted. “Oh. But I thought—the Defence?”

“The defendant already has counsel present, and we are quite nearly finished regardless. Have a seat or go on with your day, Albus.”

Dumbledore stood there, flummoxed.

“Albus. Introduce your witness and  sit down.”

“Ah. Apologies, Amelia.” 

By her pursed lips, Harry gathered the judge didn't appreciate Dumbledore's refusal to acknowledge her authority in this situation. Harry had half expected something like this, but it wouldn't do their side any favours when Dumbledore worked out that the world could, in fact, go on without his input. Harry suppressed a wave of foreboding and vowed, again, to make damn sure Severus had a safe place to run to and a way out of the Death Eaters as soon as possible. 

“I call Arabella Figg to the stand.” Dumbledore waved the woman with him towards the podium. 

“Ms. Figg?” Harry whispered to Arthur, “What's she doing here? She wasn't there.”

Arthur shook his head. “I don't know what he's on about either, but we won't help our position by protesting when Amelia is already irritated with this circus of a hearing.”

Harry nodded. 

“Ms. Figg, please have a seat behind the witness stand.” Amelia stacked her parchment and eyed the courtroom over her nose. “Mr. Dumbledore, you may sit down now.”

Dumbledore frowned and slowly lowered himself into a seat near the defendant's area. Harry swallowed hard and looked away. Even Dumbledore, deluded as he was, couldn't miss the authority in Bones’ commands.

Perhaps Harry's Parseltongue could help him remove Severus’ mark faster. 

“Ms. Figg,” said Bones, “please tell the court, in your own words, what your relationship to Mr. Potter is, and what you witnessed on the afternoon of second August, 1996.”

Figg swallowed hard and fiddled with her pocketbook. “Well, um, I was Harry's babysitter, ma'am. The Dursleys, whenever they wanted to be rid of him, they brought him to me to watch over.”

“I see. You are not, in fact, a witch, correct?”

“N-no, ma'am, I'm a squib.”

“So you did not attend Hogwarts.”

“No.”

“Then, if I may ask, what is your relationship to Mr. Dumbledore? How did he know to call upon you for aid today, if you have had no association prior to this incident?”

Figg squirmed. “Well, ma'am, I live in the Muggle world now, but it wasn't always so. I grew up in Godric's Hollow, near the Potters’ residence, actually. My parents were good friends with Harry's grandparents, you see. I moved to the Muggle world, to York, before James started in Hogwarts, but I always knew the family. And so, when little Harry lost his parents and had to move to Surrey, Albus asked me to move to a neighbouring house so I could keep an eye on him while he was growing up.”

Rage bubbled in Harry’s gut and his fists clenched hard enough to hurt. 

“He knew,” he whispered. 

Arthur's fingers tightened on Harry's shoulder almost to the point of pain, and Harry remembered that to speak of the fury and betrayal building within him would endanger everyone important to him. Severus’ twin surge of violent anger and cold terror reinforced that knowledge, and Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming at the old bastard.

Bones’ gaze turned sharp. “So, if I understand your story, you were assigned to keep watch over Harry while he lived with his relatives, yes?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You saw the abuse? Their cruelty to their nephew?”

Figg gulped. “I… never saw it happen, ma'am. They were pretty careful to always have a story ready to explain this bruise or that, and they tried to make it sound as though Harry was ungrateful for their food and turned his nose up at most everything, but I fed him while he was with me, ma'am, and that boy never once complained. And I don't reckon myself to be a very good cook.”

Merlin, that was the truth. 

“So you attempted to care for him in his relatives’ stead?”

“Much as I could do, ma'am.”

“Why did you not report the abuse to the authorities?”

Figg gave a weary sigh. “Well, I tried, ma'am. Multiple times. I tried to report it to Albus, the Muggle police, and the Ministry, but my letters to the DMLE and calls to the police station never got anywhere, and whatever Albus did to try to rein the Dursleys in never worked.”

So Figg had tried to help him, the best way she knew how. It eased some of the sense of betrayal at her, but his hatred for Dumbledore doubled. 

Amelia frowned. “There was no record of any letter from you, Ms. Figg.”

“I kept copies. I can bring them after the hearing, if you like.”

“Please do. In the meantime, however, I believe we must assume that some kind of charm interfered with their delivery and your calls to the Muggle version of law enforcement until proven otherwise. For the time being, let us return to the matter at hand. What did you witness in the tunnel on the second of August, Ms. Figg?”

Figg hesitated. “I live only a few houses from the tunnel where it happened.”

“Did you see any dementors, ma'am?”

Lucius Malfoy called, “Objection. Squibs cannot see dementors, Madam Bones.”

“No, we can't  see  them,” said Figg. “But we still have a little core of magic, even if it's not strong enough for spells. I can feel them, Madam Bones, and I felt the aura of them then.”

Amelia nodded. “Describe it, please.”

“Cold, misty, suffocating. I felt like I would never be happy again, like there was no point in going on.”

“I have seen similar reports of squibs feeling dementors in their vicinity. Most spoke of the same sensations. I will take your account as further evidence to the likelihood of rogue dementors being present in the tunnel that day. Did you also witness the patronus?”

“Not well, ma'am. By the time it got out of the tunnel, it had already done its job. I just saw what kind it was before it was gone.”

“And that was?”

“A lioness, ma'am, or a big cat of some sort.”

“No mane or markings?”

“No, ma'am, not that I saw.”

“I see. Do you have anything else to add?”

“Only that I've known Harry all his life, and he's a good boy. Honest, respectful, kind, and caring, despite everything his relatives did to hurt him.”

Harry gave her a tentative smile. “Thank you, ma'am.”

“You're welcome, lad.”

Bones inclined her head. “Thank you for your testimony, Ms. Figg. You may take a seat in the stands now.”

Figg bowed and patted Harry's shoulder on her way to the audience seating. She perched beside Dumbledore, her expression concerned. Harry caught a glimpse of discontent on Dumbledore's face and turned swiftly away. Merlin, for all he appreciated Figg's support, outing Dumbledore's lack of it would only make the old man angry.

Harry had definitely better start researching ways to get Severus out of the field, for good. 

“Ah,” said Bones, “I see Auror Downey has returned. Please return Mr. Potter's wand, Mr. Downey.”

The guard, a slender, dark-haired man with light brown skin and piercing hazel eyes, nodded and set Harry's wand on the table before him. “Good luck, kiddo,” he whispered as he moved away. The quiet encouragement gave Harry hope. 

He wasn't alone in the world. That might mean the difference between life and death when the battle began in earnest. 

“Now, Mr. Potter,” said Bones, “if you will, please cast the patronus charm in view of the courts, and we shall settle this mess at last.”

Harry stood and took his wand in hand. A gentle touch on his wrist, invisible but solid and warm and soothing, gave him courage and strength to remember his happiest moments. The time Severus had first hugged him came to mind, and Harry held the memory close to his heart.

“Expecto Patronum!” His lion emerged with a silent roar and galloped around the courtroom.

“Ah-hah!” Fudge cried, triumphant. “There now, you saw it! A lion, just like the report said! He’s guilty!”

“Sit down, Minister,” Bones said, voice hard. “I will remind you,

again, that the court does  not fall under the Minister's jurisdiction. You do not decide the verdict. As well, the report did not, in fact, list a male lion. It recorded a lioness, with no mane. Mr. Potter's patronus may be similar to the caster's, but it is not an exact match. Furthermore, even if it was, we have heard more than enough evidence that supports the dire nature of the danger Mr. Potter and his cousin were in, which overrides the law against underage magic, under the clause allowing for magic use in cases of self-defence or an emergency.” Bones stood. “Wixen of the Wizengamot, you have seen the evidence for yourself. All in favour of conviction?” 

Umbridge, Malfoy, Fudge, and a few other Dark supporters raised their hands. 

“All in favour of acquitting Mr. Potter of all charges?”

Most of the Wizengamot raised their hands, a landslide over the few dissenters. Harry let out a shaky sigh of relief. 

“The vote stands as 156 to 7, in favour of the defendant. Mr. Potter is acquitted of all charges, and this case is dismissed. I do hope the rest of your vacation is less eventful, Mr. Potter, and I will be looking into the issue of dementors in Surrey and the mishandling of this entire affair in the meantime.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Harry with a sigh. 

Arthur braced the shaking boy up. “Come on then, let's get you home.”

Harry nodded. “Bill, don't forget Shadow.”

Severus squeezed Harry's hand and slipped away. 

“Maybe I'll just take you to Fleur's to say hi, how does that sound?”

It was probably safest for Shadow. 

“Sure. Haven't seen her since the tournament.”

“She's mentioned you, often,” said Bill with a chuckle. “I'm half-convinced she only wanted to date me after I mentioned that I was your big brother now.”

Harry snorted. “Only because I asked Dyrin to help me save her little sister. She doesn't have a thing for me, promise.”

“And if she did, you wouldn't be interested. I know, I trust you both.”

Harry blinked up at him. “Why wouldn't I be interested? I mean, I'm not, but how did you know?”

Bill smirked. 

Arthur chuckled. “Son, I've raised six boys, and we're starting on the seventh. After the first two or so, you start to get a sense about that sort of thing early.”

Harry flushed. “Oh. Oh. I… dunno. I don't really like anyone like that, male, female, or otherwise.”

“That's all right, son. There's plenty of time to figure it out. In the meantime, go on and say hi to Fleur. I'll tell Molly that everything worked out all right.”

Harry nodded and bid his father goodbye. Everything had worked out for the better, and Harry was safe for now, and yet….

Three pairs of eyes watched Harry as he left the courtroom, and Fudge and Umbridge weren't the only ones who looked displeased. 

Harry suppressed a shudder and hurried after his brother. The sooner he was away from this place, the better.

Fleur lived in a tiny flat on the upscale side of London. Apparently, she had gotten the place cheap by virtue of her father's friendship with the landlord. Privately, Harry suspected her mother might have had more to do with it, or Fleur herself, or it may simply have been the fact that, ritzy neighbourhood or not, the building was in disrepair. 

Still, from what Harry could see of the place, Fleur had done her best to make it look pretty on a modest budget. He liked it a lot better than the Dursleys’ anyway. It felt more lived-in than Petunia's relentlessly clean, overly-feminine monstrosity of a house. Fleur had chosen to decorate in a more modern style, with clean lines and black and white shades with the occasional splash of colour. It suited her perfectly. 

“Hello, love. Where—” Before Bill could get his entire greeting out, Fleur came flying into the living room with mascara smudged on her face and tears on her lashes. 

“Oh, Bill! It is so terrible! I let Shadow out in the bedroom, because I thought he is not liking it in that small space, but now I cannot find him anywhere! Sacre bleu, I am so sorry!”

“It's okay, Fleur,” Harry said in a gentle tone. “He's really good at hiding, but once he knows I'm here, I'm sure he'll come—oh,  there you are!” He scooped the cat up and sat him on his shoulder. “Now, you should say you're sorry to Fleur. Look how worried you made her.”

Shadow's ears dropped back, and he mewed uncertainly. Fleur chuckled and wiped her eyes. 

“Merlin, you are good at hiding! Where have you been all this time, petit chaton?” She offered her hand, and, after a sniff or two, Shadow nudged his head against her palm. “Yes, of course, you're forgiven. You were only frightened without your human, hm? Well, I am tres glad that you are safe anyway.”

She dabbed at her face. “Forgive me for meeting you in such a state, Harry. It has been too long! How are you?”

“Better, now that Fudge can't have me put in prison for defending myself from the dementors he probably sent after me in the first place.”

Fleur huffed. “It is outrageous, what they do here. In France, you would not be so poorly treated.”

“I'll have to visit sometime then.”

“Oh, oui! You would love all the sights in Paris, and the French countryside is tres magnifique. Someday, perhaps I can show you the sights.”

Bill chuckled. “And perhaps your boyfriend too?”

Fleur blushed. “Oh, mon Dieu, I am sorry, mon cher. I only meant to make Harry feel at home.”

Bill kissed her pink cheek. “I find it charming, actually. You're quite the host, darling.”

Fleur beamed. “Oh, merci! Perhaps, one day, we will host together.”

Bill's smile turned soft. “I would like that.”

Fleur slipped her hand into his. They both looked happy. 

Harry whispered to Shadow, “We'll protect them so they can always be this happy, hm?”

Shadow purred.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Once Harry was safely settled with his family again, Shadow slipped out of the house and made his way to the Lovegoods’ property. It was close enough to use as a convenient spot to change forms and escape.

But this time, Luna was waiting on the fence.

“Oh, hello, sir.”

Sir? Shadow's fur stood on end. He turned and eyed the girl, his heart pounding and claws extended.

“Oh, no need to be so afraid.” Luna dropped to her knees and offered her hand. “I can see more than most, and I can see your heart is good. And Harry loves you.” Shadow hesitated and cautiously sniffed her hand. Her aura smelled of lavender and water lotus.

“I won't hurt you, sir.”

Shadow relaxed a little and rubbed his head against her hand.

Luna smiled and scratched behind his ears. “There you are. Now, you're safe to keep using this place to shift, sir. My dad doesn't have the sight, and I've warned him away from this spot in my own way. But I would hurry if I were you, before Madam Bones tries to tackle a demon that is too big for her to handle alone.”

Albus. Damn. Severus assumed his proper form and gave her a cautious nod.

“Harry told me you have the Sight, and that you are his friend. May I also trust you with my secrets?”

“Of course, sir. Your soul is as bright and shining as his. But I was quite serious, you must hurry.”

Severus flinched. “Are you certain it is wise to inform her of the truth of the situation with Albus? To involve her further may push him into action against Harry and myself. Are you sure that now is the time?”

“I'm sure that if you don't inform her of the danger quite soon, she is likely to rush into it blind.”

Severus winced. “In that case, I cannot afford to keep my silence any longer. I only hope it does not come back to bite us.”

Luna gave him a gentle smile. “I believe you will be saving more than one life by your action, if it helps, sir. But do hurry. Time is swiftly running out.”

Severus nodded and, with a murmur of thanks, turned on the spot. He landed in a back alley near the Ministry and, after ensuring it was deserted, immediately shifted back into Shadow. He used his small stature and natural hunting instincts to sneak into the Ministry and to the lifts. Empty, thank Merlin. After the doors closed, a bit of feline acrobatics helped him to reach the button for level two. The lift jerked downwards and to the left, and Shadow dug his claws into the floor so as not to be tossed around like a fluffy, black quaffle.

The lift screeched to a stop, and a sterile, feminine voice called out, “Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic, level two.” The doors opened, and Shadow shook himself free.

Amelia's office was, for the moment, still situated in the Aurory, though she had moved away from the main centre of activity so as not to impede the new head of the aurors, Rufus Scrimgeour. Severus didn't know much about him other than he had a strong sense of justice and a rough sort of bearing. All reports painted him as honest and forthright, but Severus knew all too well that power could corrupt, and he never trusted rumours or public opinion anyway. Not for the truth, at least.

Either way, it wouldn't do for Shadow to be discovered slinking around the aurory, particularly if they also deduced that he wasn't a real cat, so Severus avoided the aurors’ desks and made his way to Amelia's office by way of the perimeter. A few careful scratches at her door and a quiet meow was met with a sharp rustling noise and a surprised murmur.

“A cat? In the DMLE? Hm.” Amelia opened the door, but Severus wasn't surprised to find her wand trained on his face. “Reveal yourself immediately.”

Severus winced and pushed the door with his head. Perhaps she sensed his fear, as she shut the door and relaxed marginally. Her wand didn't drop.

“If you need help, I won't hurt you, but I know no actual cat could get this far into the Ministry without help. Reveal yourself, before I must do it for you.”

Shadow bobbed his head and chanted the counter mentally. Merlin, he hoped Luna's Sight was as accurate as it had been on the night everything went wrong.

A moment later, he stood in his proper shape before Amelia, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “I come only with information and a request for aid. I mean you no harm.”

“Severus?” Amelia frowned and lowered her wand. “You're an Animagus?” She eyed him sharply. “I'm not going to find you on the registry, am I?”

“Consider this the only safe registration I can offer.”

“Hm. Considering everything you told me of last night, I can understand why you would be hesitant to register.” She waved him to her desk. “Have a seat and tell me why you have come.”

Severus nodded and sat in the visitor's chair before her desk. She summoned a teapot and poured a cup for Severus. That he tested his for poison and alterations didn't phase her. He could never be too careful in his field, after all, and she knew it.

Amelia warded the door and silenced the room, so no one who might have an interest in harming Severus would overhear. “Well then, let's have it.”

Severus appreciated her straightforward manner—it was a nice change from inane small talk and sherbet lemons. “First of all, thank you, Amelia, for protecting my charge this morning.”

“It is my job. Cornelius appears to have let that slip his mind in his mad quest to retain his power and ratings, but I have not.” She poured a cup of tea for herself and performed the same charms over it that Severus had done. Wise woman. “Thank you for the timely warning last night, Severus. Without your help, I fear he would have lampooned Harry simply to prevent the boy from speaking the truth.” She gave him a grim look. “Severus, I know you would not dare show your face here for the mere exchange of pleasantries. What in Merlin’s name has gone wrong now?”

Severus slid into the seat she had indicated. “Amelia, I must warn you against pursuing legal action against Albus at this time.”

Amelia's eyebrows shot up. “Against it? Were you not infuriated over Harry's treatment? It must enrage you to learn that Albus was fully aware and took measures to see that Harry was not removed from a harmful environment.”

“Of course it does, but that is neither here nor there, Amelia. Albus has, undoubtedly, committed a crime, and yet, in his own eyes, he did so for a greater cause, to defend the magical world. He will fight for that cause, hard. What is worse, he has power, both political and magical, and the blind support of most of the public. If you challenge him now, not only will he ensure the destruction of your career, but Harry and I will be put in an untenable position.”

“You will? I'm afraid I don't see the connection, Severus.”

Severus sighed. “The issue is this, Amelia: Albus is quite as megalomaniacal and deluded as Tom Riddle. They are two opposite and equal sides of the same coin. Albus believes he is the end-all, be-all of all things good, and Tom Riddle believes himself the lord of all things evil. They both believe they are untouchable, both believe the world will not go on without their illustrious presence to illuminate the way.”

He crossed his arms over his waist for comfort. “Your display of authority during the hearing, however just and deserved, has just stripped away a hefty measure of Albus’ security in his position as the leader of all good souls. He will be confused now, as you are perceived to be a good person and, in his eyes, that means you should be reporting to him. Which also means, Amelia, that if you attempt to paint Albus as a criminal before Harry has knocked the public's supports from underneath his ivory tower's foundation, he will turn that judgment upon you. He will make you out to be the villain, and he will succeed. Particularly now that Fudge is annoyed at you, you are, at current, in over your head.

“But our troubles will not end there. You see, when he is done destroying you, he will begin to turn his eye upon anyone else who has defied his authority. And Harry and I—we have both taken action against his wishes and despite his ‘counsel’ to the contrary. The mere fact that I asked you to lead the hearing rather than trust in Albus’ belief that the blinding light of his perceived goodness would somehow push Fudge back onto the straight and narrow has already begun to remove the old man's blinders. Once he understands that he is, in fact, not immune to censure or consequences, he will begin to turn on us as well.”

Severus closed his eyes. “Harry, I think, will pull through, even now, with his life and most of his standing intact. He has the benefit of public opinion, despite Fudge's best attempts to destroy it, and a lot of loyal, powerful family and friends to protect him. I, however, will go down in flames. He will evict me from Hogwarts and the Order, and, with my usefulness as a spy gone, Riddle will demand that I return to the life of a true Death Eater… or else.”

Amelia eyed him sharply. “And when that day comes?”

“Either I shall flee to safety, if I am able, or I will die.”

Amelia searched his eyes and let slip a sigh. “You aren't lying.”

“No. The truth is that I never actually wanted to kill, pillage, or destroy. I believed wizards were superior, and, due to the abuse I endured as a child, I held some bit of understandable anger at Muggles, but I never wanted—” Severus’ voice broke, and he covered his eyes with a trembling hand. “I have made terrible mistakes, Amelia, I won't deny it, and I can never undo them, but, over the past eighteen years, I have done everything possible to save as many as I can. It is, perhaps, a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of blood spilled in the name of advancing the pureblood eugenicists’ regime, but it is all I can do now.”

Amelia held him under a frank gaze for a long, tense moment. Severus didn't think she was ruthless enough to attempt an unannounced Legilimency scan of his mind, but he left the truth of himself open to her, just in case.

Risky as it was to trust her, he needed Amelia on his side.

“After you left last night, I examined your case.”

Severus swallowed a bolt of fear. “I told the courts the truth, Amelia. Much as I safely could do, without risking the lives of innocents.”

She gave him a weary smile. “I know. I saw it.” She laid her hand over his. “I wanted to judge for myself if I could trust you. By what I've seen, I believe I can.”

“Thank you.” Severus lowered his head to hide a rush of emotion. “You… do not know how rare that has been in my life, Amelia. Particularly without the need to prove myself extensively. Only Harry, the Weasleys, and now you have ever offered me such open trust.”

“I know you're a spy, Severus. You would not risk your life to warn Harry, to warn me of Fudge's plans if there wasn't a core of honour in you.” She patted his hand and withdrew. “Now then, with that out of the way, we will discuss plans of action.”

Severus winced. “If you arrest him now….” Dear gods, would Amelia discount his intelligence as well? Did no one truly heed him?

No one but Harry, perhaps. The thought eased a little of the sting in his soul, but not his terror. Had he made a mistake in trusting her?

“No.” Amelia held his shoulder. “Breathe, Severus. If you truly believe you are in so much danger, I can agree to withhold his arrest until Harry is ready to press charges, but I'm afraid I still don't understand the situation entirely. If you believe Harry has enough influence to weather the storm, then why do you say he is also placed in an untenable position?”

Severus hesitated. “Amelia, you say you have decided to trust me. Can I trust you in turn?”

“You can. I can see your honesty, and I do know how and when to keep a secret, even from those who would pry it, unwilling, from my mind. If it makes you feel safer, perhaps we might offer vows to protect each other?”

Severus sank into his seat, tension and fear melting away. “I think I have had enough of vows, but that you would offer it honestly is a great relief.” He took a steadying breath and met her eyes. Her gaze was frank and assessing, but open, and the pinch in her brow indicated heavy concern. Severus saw nothing of distrust or wariness in her features now, and that was enough. Amelia was a just, honest person, one of the few Severus believed he could trust.

Merlin, he prayed that would not change when she realised the truth of Severus’ situation, and how it would one day impact his young charge.

Severus steeled himself and held up one finger on his right hand. “I was the one to turn on the Dark and report to Albus that the Potters were in danger. That is one life debt on Harry's side. Then, in his first year, I saved him from Quirrell on the pitch. Two life debts for Harry.” He put up another finger. “In his second year, I redirected a cursed bludger away from Harry's skull. It still broke his arm, but he survived intact.” Another finger went up. “In his third year, I rescued him from Lupin's madness. Four life debts.” Another finger. “But in turn, Harry saved me from Lupin and Black and from the dementors. Three life debts on my side.” He put up three fingers of his left hand. “Then, in fourth year, we saved each other repeatedly.” He put up all of his fingers and held his hands out for her to see. “Do you see where I am going with this, Amelia?”

Amelia pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear. Harry—when did he first begin to trust you, Severus?”

“Before the end of his third year, he had already sworn himself to guard me and trusted me above all others.”

Amelia closed her eyes. “It was you. The lioness in the tunnel. That was your patronus.”

“Indeed.”

Amelia squeezed his wrist in a gesture of alliance. “I understand now, Severus. I will do what I can to protect you both, but Harry—does he understand what this means for him?”

“He knows we are soul-bonded and knows that it will… change things for us in future.”

“And the consequences of the bond? The impact on his relationships? The impact on yours?”

Severus stared at the table. “How would you have me tell him, Amelia? He is sixteen, only just now learning who he is and what he wants out of life. How can I possibly tell him…?”

Their lives were now irrevocably linked, forever.

Amelia gave him a sympathetic smile. “You are not quite the monster you believe yourself to be, Severus.”

“Perhaps not, but even so, what would you have me do?”

“Tell him, Severus. He deserves the truth.”

Severus dropped his head. “And he will have it eventually, whether I say so or not, but not yet, Amelia. He is still a boy. Let him be a child and grow for a little while longer, before he must grow up and face the consequences of being the soulmate to a spy.”

Amelia sighed. “I suppose that is fair. You could not do anything about the situation until he is an adult anyway.”

“No. And I will not force his hand when he is an adult either. The choice is his own, Amelia, and, soul-bonded or not, he should be allowed the freedom to make it. Merlin knows Albus and the Order and bloody fate itself have taken every other choice from him. I will not add my name to that list.”

Amelia squeezed his hand. “You're a good man, Severus. I am happy for you, and, regardless of his decision, when it is time to make it, I will do my best to protect you both. For now, however, perhaps you would be wise to do what damage control with Albus that you can while I see to it that the evidence is not mysteriously misplaced until whatever time you are safe to pursue legal action.”

Severus stood. “A wise idea. Thank you, Amelia. I know it infuriates you as well.”

She stood and held his shoulder. “Your advice has already proven invaluable, Severus, and we are all short of allies whom we can trust. Whatever we must do to win this war, we will do it, together. And then we will see to it that all of the criminals who enabled this atrocity, on both sides of the battlefield, are dealt with accordingly.”

“Yes, we shall.” He bid her goodnight and disapparated to the Hogsmeade apparition point. With his safety assured for at least one more night, he put on his best scowl and prepared himself to walk the line between appeasing Albus’ wounded ego and maintaining his character. He would have to stay at least partly true to the disillusioned persona he had shown up to now, at least well enough to convince Albus that Severus was sincere, and yet, unless he pretended to also believe, ultimately, that Albus was on the side of good and still within his trust, they would all be in serious trouble.

Another day, another egomaniac to grovel to.

At least until they were free to take the old man down, for good.