AN: Live has been a roller-coaster of late. Writing and all your support have helped me a lot! At the moment there are 657 Reviews, 836 Favs and 1352 Followers. I have trouble believing the numbers! Virtual hugs to everyone that needs one!

Timeline, for your convenience: (Because it feels longer and I thought you would like to know ;) )

11th of July – Adoption

17th of July – Sirius' trial

23rd of July – Garden Party at the Malfoy's

1st of August – Party at the Burrow (that is this chapter)

oooOOooo

Clearing the Air

Harry, wearing jeans and a bright red t-shirt, as well as a pair of new trainers, was standing beside the Floo, waiting for his guardian to arrive. The man had said that he would take his son to the Burrow and would later come and pick him up again.

The teenager was not sure that this was a good idea, but he was sure that it was not a good idea to argue about it. The look in the red eyes as Marvolo had announced his plan had not been one to argue with. That much Harry had learned in the time they had now lived together.

It only had been three weeks since he had been adopted. It felt so much longer than that. What all had happened, what he had learned in that short a time. And it would only be four more weeks until it would be time to go back to Hogwarts again. In a way, this summer was longer than any he had had to spend at the Dursley's.

And better.

Visiting Sirius as often as he did, being able to cast magic – as long as he was in one of the heavily warded houses belonging to one of those he now was forced to associate with – learning even more magic, not needing to worry over owl post upsetting his aunt and uncle or alerting the neighbours. It was great living full-time in the magical world.

The now fifteen-year-old teenager was getting nervous – he really did not want to be late to his own party – when Marvolo finally walked into the room.

"Are you ready to attend your second birthday party?" Harry was asked, and the green eyes filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. There was no telling in what way Ron would react.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded his head, black locks falling into his eyes.

"Good, then we will apparate to the edge of their wards. I'm not sure if it would be wise trying to use the Floo directly inside." This was said absolutely casually, and Harry realized that the Dark Lord Voldemort knew where the Weasleys lived if he was able to apparate to the edge of the wards around the Burrow. Not a comforting thought.

Harry took hold of the offered arm, stepping closer, so that the apparation hopefully would not be so hard on his system.

With a faint crack they vanished from the reception room, to reappear almost instantly just outside the building known as the Burrow.

ooooo

Sirius sat outside the Burrow watching as the older kids of Arthur and Molly set the table out for Harry's birthday party. The dog animagus knew that there had been a party yesterday, but he preferred to think of this as the real one, the party Harry got to invite only the people he wanted to invite.

In his own mind, Lord Black could admit that it probably was not the ideal party. In the last weeks he had seen that Harry had started to develop a friendship with one of the Slytherins, the Nott boy. And his memories of how hard it had been to try to maintain a connection with his brother after they had been sorted into different houses were still fresh enough. What he remembered of the difficulties Lily had had trying to stay friends with Snape only added to his knowledge. Harry now was in an equally tight spot, or would be soon enough.

Friendships across house boundaries were hard, and harder still if the houses were Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Neville, Ron, Fred, and George finished placing the plates, while Ginny was inside helping her mother finish the cake. Hermione, whom he had picked up a little earlier at her parents' house, was sitting to the side under an apple tree, surrounded by the files he had promised to get her.

When she had told him this morning that she intended to take Xerxes Lestrange up on his offer to get her lessons on how to be an heiress, he had been speechless for a few moments. And before he could regain his senses enough to start dressing her down on how she could let Lestrange have so much influence over her, she had asked him if he had gotten the voting records of House Lestrange.

Then and there he had known that Hermione Granger, great-niece of the current Lord Lestrange, was not one to take information at face value. She would tap into all sources of information she could get her hands on and then form her own opinion.

Ever since he had handed her the files and she had shuffled over to a secluded spot – after Molly had said she should go ahead and that the boys could help her prepare the garden for the party – he had been contemplating the implications of a 'muggle-born' heiress to the Lestrange Family. It had appeal, and was sure to shake the old structure up.

Taking everything into account, concentrating on the public and the good it would do for their society, it would be better for the Lestrange family to carry on with Hermione as the Head sometime in the future than to perish without an heir. After all he had learned about her, the quest to free house-elves, her attempt to save the hippogriff he later had flown to freedom with... she certainly had a novel outlook on their world.

"Knut for your thoughts," Remus said, sitting down beside his last remaining friend from school.

"Aren't my thoughts worth more to you?" Sirius answered with mock indignation.

Remus laughed, looking so much better than he had done only last month. With his well-paid job as Harry's history tutor, he could buy food and all the other things he had had to go without for too long.

Sirius joined in, and they laughed in simple merriment for a few moments.

"I thought about what changes wizarding Britain would undergo should Hermione Granger choose to become heiress to Xerxes Lestrange," the canine animagus finally answered his friend after they both had calmed down.

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "I agree, she's not one to be coerced into acting against her morals."

"Let's just hope that she'll be enough." Sirius sighed and got up as he heard a crack from the border of the property. It was about the time that Harry should show up. Maybe that was him and Lord Slytherin.

ooooo

Carefully balancing a huge creation of vanilla ice cream and various berries, placed under a cooling charm by his mother, Ron made his way out to the table set up in the garden. He hoped that he would be able to speak with Harry. He was not happy with the way their last meeting had gone. He really hoped that he could get Harry to see reason. His mother had given him a stern talk about his behaviour towards his two friends, and he had not been happy about it.

Ron was aware that neither of them had chosen who they were related to, but he did not comprehend why they were okay with it. At least it felt as if they were okay with it. And that just did not make sense to Ron. If he were in their shoes, he would refuse to eat, run away, scream... in short, do everything he was capable of to make clear that he was not okay with the situation.

He had set the mountain of ice cream down on the table as there was the sound of apparation from the front of the house. The red-head turned around, peering around his brothers, and spotted Harry speaking to the tall well-dressed wizard he had seen in Diagon Alley.

Gathering all his courage, Ron started to walk over and watched as the dark wizard bowed to his mother before he spun and vanished again, leaving Harry behind.

Ron broke into a sprint, crashing into Harry, who had stepped through the gate into the garden.

Harry laughed, "Hi, Ron! I missed you too!"

Several minutes of exchanged hugs and happy greetings followed, ending with them all seated around the table behind the house, Harry at the head of the table with Ron to his right and Hermione to his left. A small heap of presents was piled in front of Harry, and Ron's mother encouraged the birthday-boy to open them.

Smiling, Harry complied. Hermione had gotten him a set of two books, she had given him one yesterday, and now he got the second. Ron had to keep from rolling his eyes, as it was a set on ancient Egyptian script. He really did not get Hermione's preference for learning.

The twins had gotten Harry a box of their best tested joke candies, they promised to explain them properly. And their Declaration:

"You have to test them on..."

"...his evilness!"

"We really would like to know..."

"...If they work well on someone as powerful..."

"...as him." got several different reactions.

Sirius started to laugh and their mother to scold at this exuberant display of the twins, and Harry paled under his summer tan. Maybe he was not as happy as Ron had believed him to be.

The other presents were quickly opened. Remus had gotten Harry a book with the title The Art of War, claiming it had something to do with one of the history lessons they had had. Sirius had purchased a set of Quidditch practice balls in a nice wooden chest. Ron had opted to give his best friend a fan shirt from his own favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. It was rather hard to come up with a present for Harry. And his parents had organised the party.

Once the presents were opened, the cake was distributed, and they had a cheerful afternoon, forgetting the problems surrounding them, laughing and joking, enjoying the cake and ice cream.

"How was your birthday party yesterday?" Ron's father wanted to know suddenly.

And there were all of Ron's worries again. "You had a party yesterday, and didn't invite me?" the youngest Weasley son demanded to know in a dangerous tone.

Looking sheepishly for help from Hermione or his godfather, Harry shrugged a little helplessly. "I didn't think you would have had fun?" It sounded somewhat like a question, even though it truly was none.

Not letting Ron start on the rant he so wanted to let loose on his friend, Hermione prevented any of the others from speaking by starting to explain in that bossy way she sometimes got about her. "Lord Slytherin made the guest list. He only invited political associates. I was only there because Lord Lestrange took me with him. And Neville didn't look too happy either, among all those Slytherins and Ravenclaws. It was mostly politics, and a boring adult party."

"No," Ron shouted cutting her off, "you didn't even ask!" Ron screamed into his friend's face. "Maybe I would have liked to come! You couldn't have known! You're becoming one of the snakes! You... you... traitor!"

Ron jumped up from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get away. Not reacting to the others calling for him to stop, come back, Ron ran over to the orchard, vanishing under the trees.

ooooo

Harry was stumped. He had feared something like this would happen, and now he realized that not asking his friend to come to his party had not been his best idea. It just seemed so pointless and potentially dangerous to invite Ron to a party that Draco Malfoy and many more Slytherins would be attending, a disaster in the making.

As the teenager stood from his own chair, he realized that this was a surprisingly Slytherin way of looking at the situation. Dismissing the thought – now was not the right time to contemplate his less rash actions in the last weeks – Harry started to walk after his first human friend his own age. He had to make this distinction, Hagrid and Hedwig had been his first friends, after all.

He simply had to find a way to mend this disagreement. If he only knew what had Ron's knickers in a twist.

Not paying attention to the few words exchanged between those remaining at the table, Harry walked through the wonderful wild garden surrounding the Burrow down to the orchard they had used more than once to play Quidditch in.

He didn't hurry, giving Ron some time to cool down, and giving himself some time to compose an apology for not asking him to come to his birthday party on his actual birthday.

Finding his friend under a pear tree, leaning against the tree trunk, Harry settled beside him in the grass. It was getting dark. The crickets were making noise, providing a nice backdrop for their silence.

"I'm sorry for not trying to invite you. But Hermione has it right, I didn't make the guest list. Not sure if I could have managed to get your name on it."

Ron remained silent, clenching his hands into fists repeatedly, still aggravated.

"Can you tell me what the problem is?" Harry asked quietly. He was no Legilimens, and even if he could have read his friend's thoughts, he would not do so. It would be a gross breach of trust between them. "Why are you so angry at me?"

"You're transforming into a pureblood git!" Ron answered, yelling, desperation evident in his voice. "The clothes, the way you talk, walk, write! You'll be another Malfoy! I'll loose my friend!"

At first Harry was stumped, again. Why would he become an idiot like Malfoy? Just because he was being made to learn some things?

But as he thought a few moments in the growing darkness under the trees, he realized that from outside it would look different. Seen from Ron's perspective, all the things that had changed about him – the fact he no longer had to wear Dudley's cast-offs, that he was made to pay more attention to the way he moved and talked – were probably hints that Harry would, or at least could, lose himself and turn into a stuck-up idiot.

How to go about explaining?

"My father was Lord Potter when he died. He worked in the Wizengamot. The portrait of my grandfather told me about it. Don't you think my dad would have wanted me to follow him into this role, someday?"

Reluctantly the red-haired and blue-eyed teenager nodded.

"And when I have to be a Lord, do you think I'll be able to achieve what I want to, without knowing the rules they all play by?"

Ron shook his head, his hands relaxing, his posture less stiff.

"Just because I know how to be a 'stuck-up pureblood' does not mean I will act like one all the time. What I do out of the public eye doesn't have to fit the image I am required to hold up in public."

They were quiet for some time, watching the sun go down the rest of the way behind the horizon, each lost in their own thoughts.

"This is all really fucked up, isn't it?" Ron suddenly whispered in the dark, not turning to look at Harry who was still sitting in the grass.

"You can say that again!" Harry agreed wholeheartedly. "The whole thing is terribly confusing. The house is great, and the portrait…" He started with enthusiasm, only to trail off as he saw a clenching fist out of the corner of his eye.

"But most of the time it is really confusing." Harry shifted topics rather suddenly to something he knew for sure would agree more with Ron. "I constantly wait for him to snap back to his normal way of acting, but he never does! And do you know what the weirdest thing is about the whole mess?"

Ron shook his head but Harry could see clear as day, even with the poor lighting they had in their spot in under the pear tree, that his friend was curious. "If I compare this summer to those I had to spend at Privet Drive… It is better, worlds better, than that, despite him." Harry stressed the last word and shook his head ruefully. "Can you imagine that?"

Ron had a slightly horrified look on his face. "Were they that bad?!"

Harry made a grimace, count on his friends to pick up exactly the things he wished they would ignore. "Well, this summer I've actually been getting food regularly. I get to visit Sirius and my friends. No problems sending owl post, Hedwig is not imprisoned in her cage… Shall I go on?"

Ron haltingly shook his head. "No, I think I get it. The whole everyday stuff is easier with someone not hating magic. I get it. But it's still weird as hell, mate!"

"You can say that again. Sometimes I wish I just could be normal for once."

That got Ron chuckling and they started to retell all the adventures they had that marked both of them as not really normal students of Hogwarts.

ooooo

It was a few hours later that Mrs. Weasley went into the kitchen to get a late-night snack for them, some blackberry cobbler she had hidden away somewhere. Harry sat, tired but content, between his two best friends, listening to the twins telling them all about some of their more successful experiments.

After Ron and he had returned from the orchard, the day had taken a turn for the better. Harry would describe the current state of their relationship as an uneasy truce, and he was vexed about the fact that the constant lessons on political alliances and the Slytherin families' way to go about them were having an impact on how he thought about interactions with others.

It went against everything he had experienced with his friends, and at the same time felt more natural than he was prepared to admit. In Gryffindor you either were friends or you were not – a concept clearly demonstrated on several occasions in the past by most of his house-mates – not this disturbing grey area of in-between states of relationship he now had to consider.

All still sitting at the table turned as they heard the tell-tale sound of someone apparating in sounding from the edge of the wards around the property.

It was dark in the garden, only the occasional lampion floating in the air casting some multicoloured lights, so they could see only that someone was at the fence, but not who it was.

Mr. Weasley got up, and Harry started to get up as well, because he had a fairly good idea who it might be. It was late, after all, and Marvolo had said he would be back to pick him up. So far the man had done exactly as he said he would, with everything. It felt a little unnatural, who on earth was able to fulfil all the promises they made, follow through with all plans?

Just before he could stand, both adult Weasleys came back. Mrs. Weasley was levitating a big casserole emitting mouth-watering scents, and Mr. Weasley was leading a casually-clothed Lord Slytherin to the table.

Before the awkwardness could settle in – Harry assumed that people who had engaged in actual combat against each other would be awkward around each other in a peaceful setting they did not really trust – Mrs. Weasley addressed the man that had come to pick up his ward. "We just wanted to eat some blackberry cobbler from the first blackberries this year, to conclude the day. Do you have you to leave now, or is it possible to stay a bit longer?"

Several startled gasps sounded around the table as Molly Weasley invited the man called only You-Know-Who by the family to sit at their table and share their food.

Said wizard inclined his head politely, smiling, and after a quick glance at Harry answered with the best manners possible. "I never would decline the opportunity to sample the famous cooking I have heard about in the past weeks. Thank you for inviting me."

And to the astonishment of all present, Lord Slytherin walked around the table and sat down in the chair next to Harry, smiling politely and accepting a plate from the resolute matriarch of the family.

ooooo

"Either he is the best actor ever, or he had a personality transplant when he got a new body," Sirius griped next to him, as they watched Harry leave with Lord Slytherin.

Remus turned to his friend and smiled a little sadly. "Albus always assures us that he was able to lie like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Even as a student. So I would guess that he just is that good an actor."

"He never slips?" Sirius wanted to know, staring off to the distant stars in this warm summer night.

"I've never seen it. And judging by the relaxed atmosphere in the house, I guess he doesn't slip there either, even if I'm not around."

"You think he just goes elsewhere to be a Dark Lord?" Remus furrowed his brow. Why did Sirius sound so hopeful?

"If I were him, I would make sure to keep everything not strictly legal away from the place everyone knows I live at, Padfoot. What are you on about?"

"Still hoping to find a way to get Harry back home," Sirius sighed. "But I guess it is rather unlikely by now. Do you know why Dumbledore did not try to get Harry's story about what happened in the graveyard into the process of 'freeing' him from his past?"

Remus shook his head. "He never told me. But maybe he was reluctant to bring Harry there, or it wouldn't have been possible to bring him there in time?"

They both remained silent for a moment until Sirius finally added another idea. "Or maybe he thought after the smear campaign by that Skeeter woman, everything he might have said would have been discounted?"

Remus nodded thoughtfully, and they both stayed silent until it was time to go home.

oooOOooo

Marvolo was pacing in his office at Griffin House. He had tried to work, revising for the OWL exams he had registered for that were to be held in the last week of August, and had abandoned the task after a few moments, unable to focus.

Originally he had hoped to be sitting by Henry's side while Malcolm Greengrass was tending his son's badly healed bones. But the boy had declined his offer to stay, almost demanded Marvolo to leave. And so he had nodded to the healer, said he would be waiting downstairs and went to do just that.

Marvolo knew that Malcolm was a master of the bone-breaking curse, had worked long to be able to break a bone exactly in the place he wanted to. Never had a prisoner died from unintentionally inflicted damage when the younger Greengrass had been in charge of interrogation.

Henry would be fine.

But strangely this knowledge did nothing to ease Marvolo's mind.

To pass the time until the family Healer would be finished, Marvolo started to analyse his new feelings, occluding as best he could to keep away the pain his son probably was feeling – despite the strong potion made by Severus, to dull the pain and send the child into a calm and relaxed state – and to contain his irritation.

In a way it was logical that not only positive emotions, like elation over well-working plans or amusement about floundering Death Eaters, would come back, but that those he had rather not have, and had been happy to lose in the past, would be back as well.

He understood anger and frustration and could deal with them, but the small stirrings of friendship he felt towards Xerxes, or the not-really-clear feelings towards Severus – and if that situation was not frustrating he did not know what was – this obvious concern for the well-being of another made him anxious.

He huffed in frustration and threw himself into the chair behind his desk.

Marvolo was aware that the regaining of half his soul had had a positive impact on him. His magical strength was still growing, his ability to reason was much better now. Planning and scheming was easy and brought him satisfaction, something he had only been able to gain through torturing someone in the months before he had lost his last body.

Every so often the thought of what would happen were he to absorb other horcruxes back into his body, mending his soul, came to him. He was reluctant to really consider this idea, but his researching on how to safely remove the horcrux from his son made sure that these thoughts were never far away.

Easier command of his magic, more of it at his disposal, but equally more feelings, more empathy... probably, he was not sure if he truly was capable of feeling with others... he was truly undecided.

With the knock on his door, the first Lord Slytherin in centuries banished all thoughts pertaining to split souls and their impact on the one doing the splitting, and called out "Enter!" sitting up straighter in his chair, so as not to let the other see the distress he was in.

Healer Greengrass, wearing a light coloured robe, entered upon the call, walked a few steps into the room, and sank gracefully onto one knee, his robes pooling around him on the ground. "My Lord," he said in a calm voice, only a hint of strain to be heard.

"Report," was Marvolo's curt order, he had no patience left at the moment. And he felt not a morsel of remorse as he saw the healer flinch.

The man raised his head, looking up to his Lord and started to report, as ordered. "The potion from Master Snape worked wonders. Your son, my Lord, stayed calm through the entire procedure." Taking a deep breath as if to brace himself, Malcolm continued. "I had to break ten different bones. I healed each one only an instant later. Your son has a remarkable pain tolerance and made my task easier by remaining still during my work. I'm not sure what to think of this," the young man added with troubled blue eyes.

Marvolo only nodded, he had noticed this high tolerance to pain himself the night he had regained a body, and he had a clear idea where this came from. Marvolo had to restrain his temper. How he would like to take out his rage on those blasted Muggles.

"Now he is sleeping, and will probably not wake till morning. I advise for him to rest the whole day, and to take this dose of Skele-Gro." The healer got a small vial filled with the potion from a pocket of his robes, which Marvolo floated over to himself, setting it down on the desk. "After that, he should be fine."

Eyeing his follower, Marvolo noticed that the strain he had heard in the man's voice was not entirely caused by heavy use of intricate magic within a short time frame, but from something else as well.

"What has you so tense, Malcolm?"

"As per your orders, my Lord, I explained what I would be doing before your son took the potion." The young man looked troubled and Marvolo wondered what had him so agitated. Was there something wrong with Henry? Had he expressed distrust for the healer?

"He questioned why I would be using a curse to re-break the badly healed bones, and I could almost see his further, unvoiced, questions once I explained that I was most sure to get it right with this particular spell over others that might be used for the same purpose."

Not in the mood to let Malcolm struggle further with expressing his concerns, Marvolo interjected with a – maybe overdue – explanation. "Henry is aware of the fact that you are one of my sworn followers. It might not have been spoken openly, but I have called you in a manner he would recognize, and you have addressed me and behaved in my presence as Henry has seen Death Eaters do on numerous occasions by now. He is not so oblivious as not to realize that you are old enough to have been in my service before my fall, nor that your duties were not only in healing your fellows. It seems he will not judge you based on assumptions. So do not fret overly much. If questions come up about whether something you want, or need, to use is to be considered dark, send him to me for answers."

After that the man was quickly sent on his way, and Marvolo moved up the stairs, followed by Nagini, to check on his son.

One more problem taken care of. It seemed possible to get the boy into a healthy state before he had to send him off to school on the first of September.

oooOOooo

The day after having several bones broken by a curse, just so they could be set and healed correctly right afterwards, Harry lay resting on his big comfortable bed in his room at Griffin House.

The teenager was glad that his healer had commanded him to take this day lightly, resting for the most part, as it simply was too hot and humid to move much. A thunderstorm in the evening was likely.

Surrounded by all the books he had been given for his birthday, currently reading the one he had been given by Marvolo, Harry enjoyed the silence.

Nagini was resting in a patch of sunlight, lazily flicking her tongue out to check the scent in the room from time to time, keeping him company, as she had proclaimed after she had let herself in. Harry had not known that a snake could operate door handles. It made him think about using a locking charm on his door before going to sleep. Even if the big snake was nice to talk to most of the time, he did not fancy to wake to her being draped over his legs.

Taking another deep red bean from the case of "Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans" he had gotten for his birthday – he had had luck most of the time today – Harry flipped the page over and continued reading as a knock on the door got his attention.

Who might that be? It was not really a question, as only one other person was in the house, but there was a small chance it could be Professor Snape or maybe Lupin for a theory lesson. He had still so much to learn that it felt a little like wasting time just to be resting.

"Come in!" Harry called around the surprisingly hot bean – maybe some kind of chili? – and set the book aside as Vol- no, Marvolo walked in carrying several books and rolls of parchment.

"How do you feel, Henry?" the man wanted to know, taking the scene before him in with his red eyes.

"Okay, I think. Tired and hot."

The adult wizard chuckled a little. "It is rather hot today. May I ask you something?"

Intrigued by the unusual fidgety manner of the man called a Dark Lord, Harry only nodded, not bothering with offering the other a seat. If he wanted to sit, he probably just would do so.

"I'm in need of some help revising the theory for my transfiguration OWL. Would you mind?" The man held the material he had brought out to Harry, his wavy hair now reaching his shoulders and brushing the emerald robes he wore over a simple ensemble of shirt and trousers.

"You want me to help you revise for OWLs?" Harry could not help but feel confused at this request. And this confusion sounded strong in his voice.

"Yes. I want you to help me study. I'd rather ask my son for help – who is still attending school and used to taking exams – than ask one of those that have been out of school for a long time too." Books and scrolls were floated in the air and a chair conjured. "I'm sure that I will have no problem with any of the practical parts of the exams, but transfiguration is not something I studied to any great extent once I had finished school, so my theory is a little rusty."

Harry was still staring dumbfounded as Marvolo sat down in the comfortable leather arm chair now standing in the middle of the room between the bed and the bookcase beside the door.

"Why do you even need to take OWLs again?" Harry wanted to know, too confused to bother with the normally added polite 'sir' he tacked on when speaking with the wizard.

"Have I not told you?" Marvolo asked, furrowing his brow in thought. "Maybe not. Well, when I was freed of responsibility for all crimes that might have been laid at my feet, Dumbledore made sure that all former academic achievements of mine were no longer mine to claim. I have to repeat the OWLs as well as NEWTs. I intend to take the OWLs this summer. So I have to freshen up my knowledge now."

Still a little bemused, and amused over the pettiness of the Headmaster, Harry nodded and accepted the books that were now floating through the air towards him. "You know that I do not yet know all the stuff taught in fifth year, sir?" He got a nod from Marvolo as well as an impatient hand wave to just go on with it.

So Harry unfurled one of the scrolls, uncovering methodically made notes in a neat cursive, and started asking questions.

And so the rest of the afternoon was spent studying. First Harry asked his guardian questions on transfiguration, which were answered quite accurate most of the time, Marvolo only stumbled once or twice over some definition, which he grumpily decreed narrow-minded and not really lining up with his experience, later they changed to talking about the essay Harry had to write for charms.

It was oddly peaceful, and Harry wondered what Sirius might think, what his friends might think, if he told them he had been studying for OWLs with You-Know-Who. Hermione would probably ask what they had been studying; Ron would want to know why he had studied during the holidays and if it had been Dark Magic... Thinking about Ron was still very confusing and Harry just continued to stay in the moment, relishing in the attention he got from an adult, for the first time, positive attention directed at him, and only him.

oooOOooo

Sitting in one of the frequent staff meetings on Friday the fourth – they had more staff meetings this summer than any Severus could remember – the Potions Master did not listen to Pomona advocating for some new plants to acquire, again, but mused over his first week of August.

After the big Party given for his Lord's heir – he still had trouble with deciding what to call the boy in his own mind, even if he had decided to call him Slytherin around the crowd of his Lord, and Potter around the Order – Narcissa had invited him over to a smaller party at her home and set him up for a date with one of her friends who had gone to Beauxbatons for a date. It was one of the more awkward social interactions he had had to endure in quite some time.

And as sad as it was to admit it, that was saying something.

Maybe enlisting her help had not been such a bright idea in the end. But he was at a loss where he might find a woman to marry. He would not consider one of his colleagues – he had to suppress a shudder at that thought – and most who were younger than he were either married, not interested in marriage, or had been his students at one point. Maybe he should settle for one of the woman he knew of who were not really interested in men – for whatever reason – but wanting to stick with tradition in providing heirs for their families. On second thought, he still had over half a year to search, so there was no necessity to forego a chance for a satisfactory relationship just now.

As Filius started to propose the idea of some in-depth study projects for some of his NEWT charms students, Severus shifted his thoughts over to the Occlumency and potions lessons he was giving to Lily's son. Only the day before, he had instructed the boy on the different ways to grind ingredients. He had been slightly surprised by how precisely the child suddenly was working. As he had a look at the notes his student was taking, he started again. The boy's writing was so much neater. Even neater than after the boy had been shown a better way to handle a quill than the one he had picked up by himself from his friends. It had taken Severus only a moment to come to the conclusion that one of the bones that had had to be re-broken and mended – Malcolm Greengrass had asked him to brew a potions to dull the pain and keep the child calm, so he had been required to explain in detail what it was he had planned to do – had troubled the boy while writing.

It troubled him greatly that he had not noticed what had been happening to one of the children he was teaching. He normally prided himself with noticing such heavy cases of bullying, even if it was happening at home. That this had slipped his notice just drove home how much he had chosen to disregard the child.

The Occlumency lessons were progressing well too. In one of the next lessons he would start to actually use Legilimency. The Potions Master was more than a little surprised that the child had picked up a method of meditation so fast.

When Minerva started to speak about the fact that the letters had not gone out yet, Severus started to actually pay attention to the present.

"Seriously, Albus! We cannot hold out on the letters much longer. The new first-years have been informed, but we need to inform the new prefects, so they have time to accept or decline their appointments. We need to send out the supply lists." Albus made as if to speak, but closed his mouth again as Minerva simply kept talking, her green eyes looking furious from behind her square spectacles. "I know we still have no new Defence Professor and you hope to avoid letting the Ministry appoint one, but we simply need to inform our students of what they need to buy for their next year."

Albus sighed, giving a weary look to his deputy. "You are, of course, right my dear. Do you think we can delay another week? I hope to visit a few possible candidates before then."

Minerva gave the Headmaster a short and unhappy nod and the topic of conversation shifted again. Now the attack of Dementors on a group of teenagers and their tutor was the topic of discussion. Severus listened only with half an ear as the others voiced their concern if the Ministry would lose the control of the Dementors soon and what to do if this should happen.

To his great relief the meeting came to an end shortly after. And as he swept out of the room before any of the others he took a deep breath. Since he had changed his wardrobe from almost all black clothes to some more 'cheerful' colours, his colleagues tended to remark on his choice of robes almost every time they met. In some way he understood that the change from only wearing black and the odd white shirt to dark blues, greens, and even reds was a big step. But why the others had to comment on it more than once, that he did not understand.

Taking a deep breath, Severus marched down to his potions lab. He had the stock for the infirmary to replenish, and only a few weeks left until term would start. Not knowing what Albus or his Lord might come up with in the interim, he was resolved to use the time he had.

oooOOooo

Kingsley was sitting at his desk with Tonks, both of them going over a roughly sketched plan on how they planned to investigate that Dementor attack from the end of July.

"We need to find the order that sent the Dementors there," Kingsley reconfirmed with a resolute nod.

Tonk's bubblegum pink hair flopped with her not-as-enthusiastic nod. "That is going to be a nightmare. Have you seen the filing room? Some nutjob has cast some experimental sorting charm in there, everything is in a mess on the floor."

A sigh from the bald, older Auror was the only confirmation. The filing room was a mess. A little too convenient for whomever sent Dementors to attack kids. But sadly it was a rather common occurrence at the Ministry of Magic of late. The Department responsible for all the paperwork had offered a reward for a more efficient sorting charm, and so everyone with only a faint idea of spellcrafting was trying their luck.

Kingsley suspected that the culprit knew of this and had used it to his or her advantage.

And as those papers all were spelled against direct summoning… It was a nightmare!

The two of them just had stood from the desk they had been working at as the Head of the Auror Department came over to them. Scrimgeour was followed by Dawlish.

"Shacklebolt! Tonks! You are about to start the investigation into the incident from the 23rd?" Both Aurors confirmed with a nod. "Tonks, I need you for an undercover operation against a man selling fake Felix Felicis." The wizard with his lion-like head of hair waved the wizard following him forward. "Dawlish volunteered to help with this investigation." Turning on his heel Scrimgeour called to Tonks to follow him and she complied with an exasperated look to Kingsley.

Several tense moments the wizards stood across from each other, trying to weigh the other with their eyes.

"I know we don't see eye-to-eye most of the time. But I would like to believe that we all want to know who would send Dementors after children. Am I right?" Dawlish finally broke the silence.

The wheels were turning in Kingsley's head. The Order knew that there were people of You-Know-Who in most of the Ministry Departments. Even here in the Auror Department, despite how hard it was to admit it. So was this wizard one of the Death Eaters? It did sound as if he was insinuating that he was. But until he saw the Dark Mark on the man's arm he could not be sure.

"I guess so." Pausing for a moment, Kingsley weighed his options. In the end there was not much he could do. "We wanted to start with the search for the order that sent the Dementors into the Forest of Dean. Other suggestions?"

Dawlish shook his head. "No. We need to know the name on the order." He walked a few steps in the direction of the elevators before he spun on his heel. "What are you waiting for?"

Reluctantly Kingsley followed.

As they stepped into the elevator down to the archive, Kingsley murmured to himself, "I hope our culprit doesn't simply vanish."

He was startled out of his musings as the man standing beside him said quietly, "It's almost impossible to predict how he will act once we know a name."

There was nothing more to say after that, and they started to sort through the mounds of paper on the search for one single Dementor attack order form the moment they reached the archive.

Kingsley let his brown eyes wander through the room, over the chaos in it. Months of work were waiting here. He sighed and started to sort the files at his feet.

oooOOooo

AN: I was asked for planned pairings in this story. I finally have decided on the partner for Severus, and I'm sure that Harry will explore this aspect of life once the children are back at Hogwarts. I'm not sure who will catch his eye and I have no particular pair I like over all others or hate wholeheartedly, so possibly everything is possible ;)

If you want to see one pairing more than others tell me about it (if you want to see a special partner for Marvolo or Xerxes or any of the others...) maybe it will get stuck in my head and become reality!

Thanks again for your support and all the reviews!

Thanks to Jordre and Jake for helping to improve my spelling!

First published on the 10th of June

Next chapter planned for 24th of June