A/N: I've decided to keep the average length of each chapter around four thousand words. There may be longer chapters or shorter chapters, but as of now this is the approximate length. Hope you guys are enjoying the story. It's just pouring out at the moment, so fingers crossed that that continues. Thank you all for reading and thanks also to those of you who have reviewed the story. Cheers.
Harry made his way down three floors and through the eerily silent Great Hall. He took a moment to appreciate the clear September night, as it was reflected in the enchanted ceiling. Nary a cloud, and the stars shining bright. There was no moon that night, and the starlight was absolutely breathtaking. He trudged through the hall and made his way down into the dungeons. The castle was silent, it's residents slumbering peacefully, completely unaware of the evil that had just been banished from their midst.
The Potions classroom and lab were empty, so Harry turned around and made his way to where he knew Snape's quarters were. He stood in front of a blank wall, knowing that the wards on the place would let the Potions master know that he was here.
A minute later the wall shimmered, and disappeared. Harry stepped through into the abode of the most terrifying teacher at Hogwarts, who he had called friend in the old timeline. He nodded in greeting at Snape, who was wearing his usual black robes. Snape gestured for him to have a seat, and went through the door to his potions lab. Harry knew it was his lab as it was where he had learned a lot of what he knew when it came to potions. He looked around the room as he waited for the man to return from whatever was keeping him in the lab. He knew better than to disturb him when he was brewing or preparing ingredients.
Snape's quarters were sterile, and utilitarian. He had a small receiving room/parlor with a few robust brown leather armchairs in it, and a small fireplace. A small wooden cask stood there. Harry knew that it swung open into a small cabinet, where Snape kept his favorite liquor. There was a picture of his mother on the mantle, and a portrait of Cleopatra the Alchemist on the wall. It was a muggle painting, or a magical one whose charms had worn off long ago. Harry knew that she was something of a hero to Snape, and an original copy of her alchemical text "A Dialogue of The Philosophers and Cleopatra" was one of the mans most prized possessions. The other wall had an enchanted window that showed the edge of the Forbidden forest.
He looked around the room appreciatively. They had spent many an hour in here discussing ancient Alchemists and Potioneers over a glass of Fire-whiskey or wine in the previous timeline. Snape had inculcated a deep-seated desire to learn about ancient influential people in Harry. He knew that this Snape was not the same man, yet he also felt hopeful as they didn't have seven years of antagonism to overcome this time. If he could get through to Snape early on, he would make an excellent ally. The man himself walked out of the lab, wiping his hands on a towel that he then evanescoed away.
"Drink?" he queried, heading towards the small bar besides the fireplace. Harry nodded, using his knowledge of the man to startle him a little. Perhaps the prankster nature he had inherited from his father would never completely go away. He had never felt confident enough to prank people in the previous timeline, having to overcome his treatment at the Dursleys and deal with the awe of the wizarding world. He named a bottle that he knew Snape was saving for the defeat of Voldemort. "Yeah, I'll have a glass of Macallan's Magical Fire-whiskey. The 1946 blend if you have it." he said with a straight face.
Snape turned around with raised eyebrows. "Expensive taste Po- Black. But if you think I'm opening that bottle on your say so, you're sorely mistaken." Harry suppressed a grin. Snape had always been formal and straight-laced and it tickled him to get a rise out of the man. "You can call me Potter, when there's nobody else around or if it's just Dumbledore or McGonagall." he said with a wave of his hand. Snape inclined his head, manfully containing his sneer at the name. Harry supposed it was easier for the man to refer to him as "Black" as even though he and Sirius had never got along, he had had no issue with Regulus and have even tutored the boy for his potions O.W.L. "You could also just call me "Harry." stated Harry quietly, as Snape poured out two goblets of Fire-whiskey.
He turned around and offered one to Harry, with an unfathomable look on his face. "Harry. You may call me Severus." He said stiffly, as he raised his goblet. Harry raised his goblet to the man, and took a long swallow. The fire-whiskey burned as it went down his throat, he sighed in satisfaction. They each took a sip and then sat in silence. Without being asked, Harry described the events leading to Quirrell's death. Snape sat in silence through the tale, without a twitch. He nodded decisively when Harry explained how he had beheaded the erstwhile Professor. "While there might have been less grisly ways of ending him, it was definitely necessary." he said quietly, having no idea how much relief Harry felt at the words. He knew that Snape would understand. His knowledge of the dark arts meant that he didn't need it explained to him that it was a consensual possession and what that meant. He had also inferred the reaction the killing had without being told. Apparently his bitterness towards Albus' reaction had crept through in his story.
"Pot- Harry, you mustn't be too hard on the Headmaster." he said quietly, swirling his whiskey around in his goblet. "The man has always been a pacifist. He abhors violence and the taking of life." Harry nodded, well aware of this. He knew that it had taken an astronomical death toll and the pleas of the entire wizarding world to get him to go after Gellert Grindelwald. The friendship of their youth aside, Dumbledore had truly not wished to kill him. It was his mercy that now had Grindelwald locked up in Nuremberg. Several people who were not as pro-Dumbledore as the majority of the wizarding world and knew that Grindelwald was alive, said that Dumbledore still visited him in the summers, trying to rehabilitate the old Dark Wizard. Harry wasn't sure he believed that. It was a far stretch of madness, even by Dumbledore's standards.
Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It could get bad, Severus. The sheer number of people who could die, be tortured, raped, burned alive and kept as slaves is mind-boggling. We cannot allow that to come to pass." He stood up, and paced around the room, his goblet in his hand. For a moment he felt he had his friend back and he allowed himself to voice what was worrying him.
"Fighting fire with fire has never been a good option, but in this timeline we have the advantage. We have certain knowledge that can help us get ahead. I'm not saying we should go on a rampage and kill every known Death Eater, but we must retaliate to deadly attacks with deadly force." Snape nodded slowly. Harry knew that his opinion on the matter would be along the same lines. It had taken both of them and Ron days and days to convince Minerva, Hermione and the rest of the remaining Order members to use deadly force when confronted with the Death Eaters.
"We couldn't really go on a "rampage", even if we wanted to." said Severus slowly. "Nobody knows the identities of all the Death Eaters. Not even among their ranks is everyone known." Harry threw himself back into his seat. "I know. But I do know several of them, some of whom would surprise even you. Yet some haven't committed any crimes in this timeline that I know of. They're potential Death Eaters. I'm facing a moral conundrum." Snape gave a very typical smirk at that. "And you've come to me to be your conscience? You clearly didn't know me very well in the original timeline if that is the case. Despite your intimate knowledge of the contents of my liquor cabinet." he said the last dryly, getting a belly laugh out of Harry. The mans unique brand of dry humor was much appreciated after a long tense day. It wasn't even close to ending. He still had one task that needed to be completed before he could rest for the night. Pettigrew. He couldn't stand the thought of the duplicitous rat spending one more night in close proximity to the boy who he had loved like a brother in the previous timeline.
"How goes the preparations for the potion?" asked Harry, downing his drink and proffering his goblet to Snape for a refill. "I have all the ingredients on hand, barring the two we discussed before." said Snape as he refilled both their glasses by the fireplace. "How do you intend to get your hands on a time-turner? He asked as he resumed his seat, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I have a few ideas." said Harry with a smile. He wanted to check them out before committing himself by telling someone else his plans. He knew he would come to Snape for the final plan. The man was a strategic genius. Harry smiled a little as he recalled the epic battles that chess matches used to be between Ron and Snape. They both played at well above Grand Master level, and though had never bonded much, each had respected each other as the only worthy opponents they had ever faced. "I will tell them to you when they're a little better chalked out." he said, downing the second drink. The warm glow of the liquor in his belly made him feel a little better about the long day that he'd had. He couldn't believe how much had happened in the span of one single day.
He stood up, stretching his arms over his head, stifling a yawn. "Last order of business: Pettigrew." he informed Snape, while walking to the door. "Coming?" Snape downed his own drink, and then followed Harry out of the door, which sealed itself back into a wall as they walked out. They made their way up to Dumbledore's office in silence. They could have used the Floo, but both wanted the walk to clear their minds and gather their thoughts. Snape stared at the young Potter out of the corner of his eye. He was turning out to be quite a mystery. Snape couldn't shake the feeling that they were going to get along splendidly. The idea of being on good terms with the son of James Potter was the strangest one he'd had in a while. Yet there was something about the man. A presence that almost rivaled that of Albus Dumbledore, which was quite astounding given his age. He was a babe in arms by wizarding standards. They walked up to the gargoyle, with Snape giving the password with a sour look on his face. "Sherbet Lemon." Harry stifled a smile as the gargoyle moved aside, and they stepped up on the spiral staircase. They walked into Dumbledore's office to find him and McGonagall chatting over a cup of elf-wine. Harry wondered if the war was going to turn them all into alcoholics.
"Harry." Said Dumbledore gravely. "I would like to apologize, my boy. It's hard for me to imagine the world from which you've come, but I should have known that you wouldn't kill without good reason." Harry nodded, grateful for the admission. McGonagall gave him a nod, raising her glass slightly in his direction. He nodded back, a warm feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with the Fire-whiskey.
"I'm glad." he stated plainly, taking a seat beside them. There were four chairs around a small table which had the bottle of wine on it. "Wine, Harry, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, wand at the ready to conjure more glasses. Both shook their heads, feeling quite satisfied with their Fire-whiskey.
"What's next?" asked McGonagall, half curious and half dreading the answer. Harry sighed. "It's been a long, long day. I think apprehending Peter Pettigrew is the next and last thing we should do."
He saw nods all around. "Where is he?" asked Snape. Harry grimaced, as he anticipated the reaction his next revelation was going to get. "He's in his animagus form, a rat. Good fit, all things considered."
Professor McGonagall looked quite impressed. "Pettigrew mastered the Animagus transformation?" she asked in surprise. "I didn't think he had the talent for it." Harry shrugged. "Perhaps he didn't but being tutored by my father probably had something to do with it." She gasped at that. "Your father was also an Animagus?!" she asked. Harry watched Snape suppress his usual automatic sneer that appeared whenever James Potter was discussed. He didn't hold it against the man. It must have been difficult for him to get over the hatred he carried for so much of his adult life. He did appreciate the man holding his tongue though.
Harry scratched his chin, deciding to give them a small history lesson on the Marauders. "My father, Pettigrew, and Sirius Black all mastered the transformation in their fifth year." There were looks of shock from all three of them at that news. "They did it so that they could accompany Remus Lupin when he transformed into a werewolf. They couldn't get infected while in their animal forms." He saw them all still trying to grasp the fact that three O.W.L level students had accomplished one of the most difficult transfigurations known to the magical world. He knew exactly why they were so incredulous.
"Wizards have believed that it is a very difficult transfiguration and a very rare skill, because they've that is what they've always been told, for generations. The truth is that the main difficulty is in discovering your innate form. The transformation itself can be worked on with practice. A lot of practice. Most don't try because they've been told it's rare. Of course some don't have the ability at all, but most do, if they try hard enough." he shrugged. McGonagall looked immensely pensive about what he had said. It stood to reason that it was not as rare an ability as they had believed if three boys sharing a dorm room all had it. She would have to rethink the way she approached it in her teaching. Of course, she had been told the same by Dumbledore, who she had trusted implicitly. She looked askance at Harry as he gave a small snort. "It's probably not that rare at all. There are seven Animagi registered with the Ministry this century, but I know of at least eight Animagi who aren't registered. And those are just the ones I know of." he said dryly, conjuring a glass of water for himself.
McGonagall couldn't help her professional curiosity. "Are you an Animagus?" Harry simply smiled at her over the brim of his glass, not affirming nor denying that. Snape looked distinctly uncomfortable at the topic. Harry knew it was because he was an Animagus as well. His form was a jet black owl. Harry had always assumed that if the man had a form it would be a bat, but he was an owl, known for their wisdom and their stealth. He had never revealed his form to anyone, but it had been inevitable when they had needed to scout a Death Eater house and had no other way. After swearing Harry and Remus to secrecy, Snape had transformed and scouted out the place. Not even Voldemort or Dumbledore knew of his ability. Harry wasn't going to say anything. He had of course included Snape in the eight Animagi he knew who hadn't registered.
Sensing that she wasn't going to get an answer, she then asked about the Marauder's forms. "You already know that Pettigrew is a rat. My father was a majestic stag." he said, ignoring the snort that escaped Snape, as well as the warning look that Dumbledore shot him. The by-play was quite amusing. "Sirius could become a huge black dog, which looked a lot like a Grim. Scared the magic out of Trelawney, I can tell you." He saw McGonagall's lips twitch a little at that. He knew that she had only disdain for the subject of divination, a sentiment he heartily shared. He knew that prophecies were in fact real, but the gift was given to a select few, and Sybill Trelawney definitely didn't qualify as a seer. She had her moments of course, but the gift was watered down when compared to her ancestors.
"Where is Pettigrew hiding in his rat form, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. "I'm sure there are several hundred rats in a castle as large and as old as Hogwarts. How are we going to locate him?"
Harry swallowed, knowing that they were not going to take this well. "Pettigrew framed Sirius, and then ran into the sewers. He knew that he'd have to keep abreast of the wizarding world, and so found a family with children and befriended one of them. He then lived as their pet rat." He grimaced. The thought was still disturbing. Although it had been years, he couldn't forget that he himself had lived in a dorm with Pettigrew for almost three years. "He was found by Percy Weasley, and is now posing as the pet rat of one Ronald Weasley." said Harry regretfully.
McGonagall jumped to her feet. "D'you mean tae tell me that there's a scruffy criminal in a room full of eleven year old boys?" she half shouted, her face aghast and her Scottish accent becoming pronounced in her agitation. Harry nodded regretfully, knowing that her ire was roused when there was any danger to her "lion cubs" whether real or imagined. This was definitely real.
She turned without a word and started heading out of the office, her wand was in her hand and she had an almost military precision in the way she walked. The other three simply followed her. Harry was suppressing a grin, as they followed the quick pace she set. He would not like to be Pettigrew right now. As they neared the portrait of The Fat Lady, Harry found his grin fading. He lagged to the back of the quartet as they got closer. He wasn't ready to see Ron and Hermione and Neville and well...any of the people he had known in the previous timeline. It was beyond strange that he was now nine years older than them. The friendship and memories he had didn't exist to them. They didn't know him. They did not know the trials and tribulations that they had all faced together. They were not the people who had become more than friends to him – they had become a family.
He felt his heart ache as that knowledge sank it. It was going to be extremely difficult to see them around the castle, but he also knew that he especially could not bear to see Ron's devastation when he found out that his "new" pet rat was actually a portly, balding old Death Eater. They stopped in front of the Fat Lady, who was snoozing. Harry spoke quietly from the rear of the group. "Minerva, I would suggest entering the dorm quietly, stunning the rat and leaving without their knowledge. Ron is terribly attached to that rat. I don't know if he already is, but he was by third year, when we found out. It would be best if he just thought that "Scabbers" ran away." She nodded, it was probably for the best that the boy was not traumatized with the knowledge that he had been sharing a bed with a grown middle-aged man.
McGonagall cleared her throat, waking up the snoozing Fat Lady. "Who – Oh, Hello Professors." she said with a small curtsey as she realized who her visitors were. "Caput Draconis." said McGonagall curtly, startling the portrait as she swung open for them. She was usually much more polite than this. They traipsed through the portrait hole. "He sleeps to the left of Ron's pillow. Ron's is the second bed from the right," Harry informed her softly, remembering nights of staring out at the moon, with only Ron's snores for company. With a decisive nod, she marched up the stairs to the boys dormitory. Harry looked around, as waves of nostalgia crashed over him. So many memories had been made in this room. The homework they'd done, the pranks they had played, the budding romances that had been born and had died in this room. They waited in tense silence for about five minutes, before McGonagall came back down the stairs, a limp rat dangling in her hands by its tail. She had a look of absolute loathing on her face. Wordlessly, they all exited the Gryffindor common room, in their excitement ignoring the "Good Night." thrown at their backs by the Fat Lady.
Back in Dumbledore's office, they placed the rat into a cage which the Headmaster charmed to be unbreakable. There was no way for the rat to transform or escape, even if he managed to break out of a powerful stunner by an irate McGonagall.
"What are we going to do with him?" asked Dumbledore. Harry shrugged. He knew that as of this point in the timeline, Wormtail didn't know anything that he didn't. He just wanted to use him to get Sirius out of Azkaban. "He has no information of value." He informed the rest of them. "His main value is in getting Sirius exonerated and released from that hellhole." He saw a guilty look on Dumbledore's face. He supposed the man felt guilty because he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and should have ensured that Sirius had been given a trial, and that every letter of the law had been obeyed. He had failed the man, and condemned him to eleven years of hell.
"We know that the Wizengamot is going to summon me for a hearing soon. Perhaps I can bring up Sirius' lack of trial once someone introduces Regulus' reappearance in court. A formal hearing is not a trial, and I think I should be able to raise the topic and shift them off questioning the whereabouts of Harry Potter for a while. However it will only stall them. There is no way the Minister will relinquish his chance to be seen as the savior of the "savior"" he said with a small apologetic glance in Harry's direction. Harry waved the unspoken apology away. He knew that the Headmaster wasn't calling him the savior but merely pointing out how Fudge would spin his interest in Harry Potter.
"So now we wait for the Wizengamot?" asked Harry, looking around at the other three. He got nods from all three. There was nothing more they could do at the moment. He knew that they would have to figure out a way to explain how exactly they had known that Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus. Harry decided that he would sleep on it, and they could decide what was to be done about that the next day. The summons were sure to come tomorrow for Dumbledore.
"Well then, I think I shall retire, gentlemen." announced McGonagall, rising from her chair. "Long day of classes tomorrow, and I think we should all get some rest. Good night." They bid her goodnight, and she walked out of the office. Snape rose as well. "I shall retire as well, Albus, Harry." With a nod in their direction, he walked out as well.
Harry and Dumbledore looked at each other for a moment. "It has been quite a long day, my boy." he murmured quietly, pouring himself another glass of wine. Harry declined when he held out the bottle in offering. "It's been a long life, Albus." he said bitterly, rubbing his eyes. He was absolutely exhausted, and absolutely famished. Hoping that his call would be heeded, he tentatively spoke out. "Groffy." The house-elf appeared, and looked at Dumbledore. "Should Groffy be listening to the call of the Black wizard, Mister Dumblydore sir?" he asked. Dumbledore simply nodded as he took a sip of his wine.
"Groffy please get me some soup, and some bread. I'm starving." said Harry. Groffy nodded his head enthusiastically and then flashed away. Minutes later a bowl of cream of Pumpkin soup appeared, with a side of freshly baked, crusty bread. Harry dug in, with the gusto of a man who hadn't eaten in days.
Dumbledore simply sipped on his wine as Harry wolfed down his food. Stomach satisfied, Harry sat back with a contented sigh. Dumbledore smiled warmly at the young man. "Groffy." he called out softly. "Please prepare one of the guest quarter's for Mr. Black here." he said. Groffy gave a small bow and popped away.
"I would like for you to join us at the Head table in the Great Hall tomorrow, Harry. I will not introduce you to the students yet but I want them to get used to seeing you around the school. Assuming that the Ministry accepts your claim of who you are, I think you'll be around the castle for much of your time?" he changed his tone into a question at the last moment, perhaps remembering that he could not push the man around at all. Harry nodded pensively. "I suppose so, Albus. I will need to leave from time to time to deal with the other Horcruxes, assuming they're in the same places as in the last timeline, but mostly yes, I will be in the school." he stopped himself from adding that he had nowhere else to go and that the school was home. He had the feeling the Headmaster knew that though. Groffy reappeared. "Black sirs room is ready, Headmaster." Harry rose, and held his hand out to Dumbledore. Dumbledore grasped it around his forearm earnestly. "Thank you, Harry." he said sincerely. "Thank you." Harry nodded, his throat tight. He followed Groffy out of the room, and was looking forward to a few hours of sleep before they began their fight against the darkness again on the morrow.