This themed story was written for Slytherin House, prompt being Hairbrush, theme Escape - 3,331 words
Lily Potter nee Evans' hairbrush was nothing special to look at; yet to Harry James Potter, it was worth more than all the money he had in his vault in Gringotts. The small piece of his mother, painted red and silver with swirly patterns, rested in Sirius's palms as he wordlessly offered it to him.
"Thanks, Sirius," he whispered, carefully taking the object from his godfather's hands.
Sirius grinned and ruffled Harry's hair.
"Nah, don't mention it. Besides, you won't be thanking me after I tell you the story how that hairbrush ended up with me."
Harry made a face, but the twitching ends of his lips gave away his true feelings.
"Let me guess – prank gone wrong?"
Sirius barked out a laugh. "Way too smart, Prongslet," he praised and was rewarded with a blush and dazzling smile from his godson. His eyes glazed over with memories and a nostalgic smile appeared on his face. "And yes, it was a prank gone horribly wrong, back in our seventh year. You see, Prongsie – your dad – was supposed to keep her occupied while I transformed into Padfoot, got upstairs, snatched her hairbrush and charmed it so it would do the opposite – make her hair look like a mushroom. Lily, however, forgot her necklace…"
The hairbrush was extensively charmed, Harry found out when he arrived at Hogwarts. Fred and George managed to steal his usual hairbrush during the last-minute packing they did before the train journey, so he was forced to use his Mum's. To his everlasting surprise, his hair actually looked somewhat neat and even little stylish, and his bangs were now completely covering scar on his forehead. The bonus was the change of colors: it was now green and gold, swirly patterns replaced with a stag in the leap.
Hermione and Ron instantly noticed the difference.
"Good morning Harry," Hermione greeted him with barely a glance, then did a double take and looked at him again. Harry shifted a little.
"What?"
"M'te," Ron spoke, his mouth stuffed with bacon and sausages, "yo' 'ai' lukh d'ffe'ent."
"Yes, Harry," Hermione agreed, scooting to make space on bench. "It finally looks like you combed it!"
"Well, Fred and George stole my hairbrush – "
"Then how did you – "
"– and I used my Mum's hairbrush."
That stopped Hermione dead in her tracks, her jaw slightly unhinged from the words she wanted to speak but decided not to. Ron swallowed and stared at him. Harry couldn't help but feel a little proud of his Mum.
"Your Mum's? That red and silver monstrosity you showed me?"
"It's not a monstrosity!" Harry defended the hairbrush, feeling a little silly for protectiveness he felt for the hairbrush of all things, but it was the only tangible thing he had of his mother's. "And it changed: it's green and golden now."
"That", Hermione said after a pause, "is quite impressive. Your Mum must've been really good at Charms to do it."
Harry shrugged, feeling said hairbrush jingle a little in his bag.
"Harry my man -"
"Fancy new hairdo -"
"- finally looking like -"
"- a proper gentleman -"
"-not like you weren't before," Weasley twins ended in sync, sitting across Harry.
"About that," Harry began, his eyes steely. Fred and George exchanged a quick look and made to stand up, but a minute flick of Harry's wand left them stuck to the bench.
"Where's my hairbrush?"
Even after getting his regular hairbrush back, Harry couldn't help himself; the hairbrush followed him everywhere in his bag. He couldn't explain why a piece of wood and plastic gave him such comfort, but it did. It helped him endure the taunting in Potions class, the insufferable boredom in Divination and calm down tempest of emotions very sight of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge, evoked in him. He even took up a habit of talking to the brush in the middle of the night as a way of escaping the stifling reality of Hogwarts.
In short, it was as if his Mum, an escapee from the chains of Death, were there with him, listening to his woes and helping him weather them all.
The intensity and frequency of those feelings grew as the Halloween approached. Not that Harry complained: with Hogwarts feeling more and more like a prison, he desperately searched for something that would stop him from making a run for it. The option of staying with Sirius in the hated Black Family house, even with being locked up, sounded better right now. At least he would have friendly company and days devoid of staring and Umbridge.
To his surprise, Halloween came without pomp; Horror Monday, as Gryffindor fifth years had dubbed it, had passed without incident (if you excluded second blown-up cauldron in Potions class this year, courtesy of Neville) and melted seamlessly into Tuesday the 31st without any trouble.
Later, Harry would say it was the first sign.
The second sign – or the first spotted one – was far more obvious. Hedwig swept in at the breakfast with the other post owls, carrying a letter from Sirius.
Be ready, Prongslet. I'll be with you.
"Is he mad?" Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione as they climbed up to the Charms classroom.
Hermione shook her in disbelief. "I don't think he meant it like that, Harry," she tried to reassure him.
"Yeah, he'd have to be bloody bonkers to try coming in again," Ron agreed.
"Besides, he has Remus and half the Order there," Hermione continued, attempting to sound carefree, but failing miserably. "He won't dare."
"That didn't stop him before," Harry muttered in resignation.
"He has more to lose now," bushy-haired girl shook her head, opening the door to the classroom. Harry disagreed, but didn't mention it again.
The final sign was the hairbrush.
It reverted to its original red and silver scheme, complete with swirly patterns, and gave off slight aura of warmth. This Harry spotted as he exited his last class of the day, Herbology. Completely unnerved and feeling more than slightly unsettled, he showed it to Hermione and Ron over the dinner.
"Are you sure it's not because of the lesser contact?" Hermione asked, inspecting the hairbrush.
"I'm sure, Mione," Harry confirmed, patting his hair slightly. "I brushed my hair with it today."
"Hem, hem."
Harry stifled the urge to curse colorfully and turned to face Umbi – sorry, Umbridge.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" The saccharine quality of woman's voice never failed to grate on his nerves, but he bottled his reaction. It wouldn't do to earn detention now.
"Not at all, Professor," he answered calmly, recalling Sirius' words. I'll be with you. Maybe his godfather was slightly crazy from months of being cooped-up, but he never failed to comfort him with his words. "Merely discussing how long can some spells hold up after the original caster dies."
Toad's eyes widened, and Harry didn't bother hiding smug smile. Technically he wasn't lying, but neither was he telling the entire truth…
"Indeed? Then you wouldn't mind showing me what triggered such curiosity?"
That woman was asking for a good curse. The rest of the school was listening in, hoping for a show, Harry bitterly reflected.
"Of course no-" Ron didn't finish his sentence, probably due to Hermione's interference.
"I'd rather not hand it over, Professor," Harry scrambled for a good save without giving up the brush. "It has a very sentimental value to me."
Toad giggled girlishly. "Mr. Potter, only one type of spells is able to stay intact after the caster's death and they are malevolent in nature. We wouldn't want to expose children here to such a risk, now would we?"
Damn it. He'll have to give up something…
"I doubt my mother would want to curse me, Professor." There. There was no way Toad would be able to take the hairbrush without looking like a heartless monster. Also… "Besides, Professor, I thought you were the Ministry's expert on Defense against the Dark Arts, not Charms."
Toad spluttered a bit before regaining her composure. Gryffs and Puffs looked vastly amused at the hated professor's predicament, Ravenclaws looked highly interested and Slytherins watched everything with a hawk-like intensity, although Harry could spot surprise from the Snake table. He had never displayed his Slytherin traits in public before, playing the part of the Lion Golden Boy to a tee. Wonder what their reaction would be if they learned I was nearly one of them, Harry thought with a vicious smile.
"Nevertheless, Mr. Potter, I am obliged to take away any suspicious object that could potentially harm any of the students. It is my Ministry-given mandate, you see." Toad flicked her wand in Harry's direction. "Accio!"
The hairbrush flew out of Hermione's hands and into Umbridge's, where it rested innocently. Anger boiling up, Harry made to stand up, only for Neville to tug him down.
"A girl's hairbrush?" Umbit-Umbridge asked, face contorted in disappointment.
"My mother's hairbrush," Harry corrected impatiently. "Now please give it back to me."
"And what use would you have of a girl's hairbrush, Mr. Potter?"
"Now, now, Dolores," Dumbledore spoke, rising from his seat, "an object does not need to be useful to be valuable. It belonged once to Lily Evans, and I'm sure Harry likes having the hairbrush as a small memento of his mother. It wouldn't be right to take it away from him."
Dear Merlin, Dumbledore was just making it worse. If Rita Skeeter was still writing, this would certainly make Prophet's headlines. Boy-Who-Lies, carrying his mother's hairbrush as a reminder. Like he needed any more false sympathy and pity.
I wish Mum was here.
The hairbrush brightened as if it had heard Harry's wish. Toad's jaw nearly touched the floor and she tossed the brush away. The brush didn't fall; it remained floating for a moment before it started shining like a miniature sun, forcing everyone to look away. After the light subsided, Harry felt air leave his lungs. In front of him stood red-haired willowy woman, with bright green eyes he saw in the mirror every morning. She was holding the hairbrush and glaring at the Toad, who took a step back.
"So, you are the infamous Dolores Jane Umbridge," woman – Mum? – hissed.
Toad struggled to regain balance. "And who are you?" she screeched.
Red-head snorted. "You should very well know, bitch," she spat, "considering you tortured my son."
"Lily?" The whisper did not come from Harry, McGonagall or any of Lily's former teachers; it came from Severus Snape, whose sallow skin looked incredibly sick from the loss of blood.
"I will get back to you later, Severus," Lily promised sweetly, making the Potions Master gulp. "Right now", here she leveled her glare at one Dolores Umbridge, "I have to deal with the more immediate offender. WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY SON TEAR HIS HAND OPEN WITH A BLOOD QUILL?!"
Everyone in her vicinity covered their ears, but it was in naught; every word could be clearly heard, albeit with slightly less volume. McGonagall looked horrified, Dumbledore shocked, and the rest of the staff disgusted and angry. Harry could see where he got his temper from and felt a little bad for his friends; if his shouting in the Grimmauld Place was anything like this…
"YOU WANT TO CLOSE YOUR EYES TO THE TRUTH, FINE! BUT PUNISHING A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD FOR HAVING A DIFFERENT OPINION THAN YOUR SAINTLY GOVERNMENT IS CROSSING THE LINE, DOLORES JANE UMBRIDGE! NOT TO MENTION CHUCKING AN INNOCENT MAN IN AZKABAN AND LETTING KNOWN DEATH EATERS ROAM FREELY AFTER THEY BRIBED YOU!"
Dolores made an attempt to open her mouth, but Lily Potter nee Evans barreled on. My Mum is awesome, Harry thought, his heart skipping a beat. Maybe she can get rid of the Toad?
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MAKE EXCUSES! DID YOU KNOW YOU CANNOT RECEIVE DARK MARK UNDER IMPERIUS? YOU HAVE TO WILLINGLY SWEAR FEALTY TO VOLDEMORT!"
Most of the room flinched, Snape and several older Slytherins hissed, while Dumbledore nodded in approval and Harry smiled.
"AND SIRIUS NEVER BETRAYED JAMES AND I! HE AND PETTIGREW SWAPPED! PETER THEN BETRAYED US AND FRAMED HIS BEST FRIEND FOR IT! SIRIUS COULD NOT BETRAY THE POTTER FAMILY; HE TOOK A FAMILY FEALTY OATH, AND HARMING US WOULD STRIP HIM OF MAGIC AND KILL HIM!"
Purebloods and magically raised half-bloods inhaled along with the teacher's table, while muggleborns and muggle-raised made a face. It really didn't sound like a nice death, Harry thought with a grimace.
Now Lily whirled on the teachers.
"YOU AND I, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, WILL BE HAVING WORDS! LEAVING HARRY WITH PETUNIA? SHE WAS JEALOUS OF ME AND HATED MAGIC, AND THAT HORRIBLE FIANCEE OF HERS EVEN MORE SO! AND YOU, SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, ARE AN UTTER TOSSER! BLAMING MY SON FOR HIS FATHER'S MISDEEDS IS NOT ONLY LOW, BUT MAKES YOU JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!"
Snape flinched but wisely said nothing. Dumbledore looked pained but remained silent as well. Finally, Lily turned to Harry, none of the rage on her face; just an angelic smile Harry couldn't help but adore.
"I'm sorry for this, Harry."
Harry could not sit still anymore.
"Mum…" he jumped from the bench and hugged his mom, ignoring the fact she appeared to be the same age as Nymphadora Tonks. Lily hugged her son back.
"How?" This came out muffled, as Harry buried his head into his mother's shoulder.
"Samhain," Lily said simply. "The Veil between this world and the Afterlife is very thin today. Anyone can escape for a short while with a proper anchor."
"The hairbrush," Hermione voiced with surprise. "Your hairbrush!"
Lily nodded. "Yes, my hairbrush. Thank you, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, for being there for Harry, when James and I couldn't."
Harry couldn't see it, but he was pretty sure Hermione was blushing and Ron had gone Weasley red all over. As for him, he was aware he was crying silently, but he couldn't care less. His Mum was here, away from Death if only for a short while, and so painfully real.
"Thanks for coming, Mum."
"No thanks needed, Harry." There was genuine warmth in her voice, so different from her last moments. "I'm only sorry I could not come earlier, but I was always with you."
Something suddenly clicked in Harry's mind.
"Sirius knew you were coming." It wasn't a question. Lily smirked and gently pried her son away, placing her hands on his shoulders.
"I didn't tell him anything. I can't say the same for his brother."
"The Death Eater?" Harry vaguely recalled the story, but didn't know the name or the details.
"Yes. Regulus looked so proud of himself after he came back. Managed to scare Padfoot quite badly from what I managed to figure out."
"But if he was a Death Eater…"
"He betrayed his Master," Lily revealed, noting the sharpening in Albus' and Severus' eyes. "Besides, he was quite fun in the Afterlife. Your father, he and little Ariana had a blast pranking the dead."
Harry couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. "Once a Marauder, always a Marauder, eh?"
"Naturally," Lily agreed fondly with a long-suffering expression. "He was so proud of your Patronus, even though he wanted to smack Remus for not telling you anything solid."
"We so hate interrupting – "
"– this lovely family reunion – "
" – between Harrykins and his – "
" – gorgeous mother – "
" – seriously Harry, why didn't you ever tell us – "
" – but we had heard you – "
" – mention Marauders." Fred and George were the first one to recover, and of course they spotted Harry's little slips. Thankfully, he had a volley ready. It really paid off having Sirius Orion Black as your godfather sometimes.
"I didn't know you were into threesomes and necrophilia, Fred, George," Harry deadpanned. "You really should've told me before; Moaning Myrtle has been looking for a good shag for ages."
Lily sniggered, which set off most of the Gryffindors; with the shock wearing off, most of the Great Hall joined in. Fred and George gaped for a second, then decided it was quite funny and started laughing.
"That," Lily spoke through laughter, "was pure Marauder wit, Harry. I can practically hear James crying."
"Thanks." And Harry meant it. "By the way, Fred, George, my Dad was Prongs. So thank you for giving me my heirloom back."
That stopped the twins dead in their tracks, and the opening doors of the Great Hall cut off any possible reply from them.
"Hey Lils, where's Prongslet?"
Sirius looked dashing, Harry had to admit as he watched his dogfather swagger up to his Mum and gallantly kiss her knuckles. With hair washed, beard trimmed and clothes immaculate, it wasn't that hard to imagine him 'having all the girls', as Remus had once, not entirely jokingly, told him.
"Good to know you don't always look like an overgrown mutt, Sirius," Harry jabbed playfully. "Freedom suits you." Of course, he meant freedom from the Grimmauld Place, but it wasn't like he could shout it from the rooftops.
"Well, you know how the Azkaban is." Sirius shrugged as he played along, drawing his godson closer and ruffling his hair, eliciting a yelp and a smack on the hand. "No appreciation of a good-looking face like me."
"And that's why you had to make a sensation out of yourself," Lily crossed her arms, "by doing the impossible. Saving your non-existent face."
Sirius shrugged, only slightly repentant. "I had a lead on the Wormie. I wasn't about to let it go. Reggie was right; you are looking good, Lils."
"WELL, YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LANDED YOURSELF IN AZKABAN IN THE FIRST PLACE; THAT WOULD'VE SAVED YOU THE TROUBLE! AND COMPLIMENTS WON'T SAVE YOU!"
Sirius flinched but to his credit he didn't cover his ears like the rest of the people in the immediate vicinity.
"Had to try. No way for me to fix it now, Lils," he shrugged, voice and posture apologetic. "All I can hope for is that someone catches Wormie and clears me of the 12-muggle-murder charge."
"Mr. Black? You're innocent?" It was Susan Bones, Amelia Bones' niece, Harry remembered from his own unfair trial.
"Just Sirius, Mr. Black is my much hated father," Sirius corrected her, "and yes, I am innocent of all charges. Except the escape but then again", here he shrugged eloquently, "I never had a trial."
"But my Auntie - "
Sirius cut her off.
"Amelia was not the Head of DMLE back then; Crouch was. Bagnold countersigned his order, and never questioned it further. In everyone's eyes I was guilty of betraying Lily and James, killing Pettigrew and those twelve muggles, and being a Black. They needed no further proof."
Harry leant on his godfather and Lily hugged him in support.
"He's innocent," Lily repeated. "Harry, Sirius, one of you better shut up that toad of a woman or I won't be responsible for what happens next."
Harry offered his wand to Sirius, who took it gratefully and cast non-verbally a Silencing spell on Umbridge, who had opened her mouth to say something.
"Lily -" Headmaster started, but Lily's glare shut him up.
"I don't have time for philosophy, Albus. Samhain ends in…" she glanced at Sirius.
"Six hours," Sirius offered.
"Six hours," Lily repeated. "Six hours I need to clear Siri, get the Toad out of Hogwarts and spend with Harry. James wanted to help, but he couldn't find anything strictly his to come over. I don't have time."
"You'll clear Sirius?" Harry couldn't stifle his hope. He could escape Dursleys for good! "I can go and live with him?"
Lily smiled widely, looking almost identical to her wedding photo.
"Of course."
Sirius hugged his godson tightly and grinned doggishly at his best mate's wife.
"I think this escape rates above mine, eh Lils?"
The slap and the shout of "SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" was still echoing inside Great Hall minutes after the strange trio left.