Thank you to all my readers who have been so patient with my erratic updates. Life just gets in the way. I'm not going to make any promises about regular updates, at least for the rest of 2016. I plan to have at least one more chapter up before Christmas, but then you may not see an update until mid-January, depending on how crazy my holiday gets. After that, I hope to update at least once a month. Keep reviewing; it motivates me to write. Now, without further ado, the next chapter!
Chapter 31 Saturdays
"Stupefy!"
"Reducto!"
"Furnurculus!"
"Impedimenta!"
The combined spells converged on their target and it exploded in a shower of wood chips.
"Awesome!" four voices cried in unison.
"We did it!" Peter exclaimed.
Harry smirked. "Congratulations. You're at the level of a novice dueler."
"What?"
Harry grinned again. "Like I said. You're novices. Can you do that nonverbally? While it's shooting spells back at you?"
"Of course!" Sirius declared.
"Go for it, then," Harry said. With a thought, the target dummy reformed and a silencing spell was put on Sirius, courtesy of James (who grinned when Sirius glared at him). "Let's see your best."
Sirius retorted, but, silenced, only his mouth moved; no sound came out. With a frustrated growl, he turned to face the target dummy the Room of Requirement had supplied. It was the first lesson Harry was hosting to teach James (and consequently the other Marauders) how to duel, as he'd promised over Christmas. He'd forgotten how much he loved the DA until he started teaching again. So far that Saturday morning, Harry had really only tested the Marauders' capabilities. Though, after Sirius's inevitable defeat he intended to give some advice and help them practice the basic but useful spells until they could cast them without thinking—though that might take a while.
Meanwhile, Sirius was engaged in a fierce but silent battle with the wooden dummy. Spells shot between them, though more often than not Sirius's spells were fairly weak and ineffective. He was spending more time dodging than casting. But he wasn't quite agile enough to escape all the dummy's offense. Within a minute or so, a stunning spell clipped his shoulder and down he went. The dummy reset and went motionless.
Smirking, Harry cast an enervate on Sirius. He came to with a groan. "I hate to say it, but…you were right," he lamented from the floor.
"I always am," Harry replied, grinning. He extended a hand down to Sirius and helped him to his feet, then turned and faced the other three Marauders. "Like I said, you're all about at the level of a novice dueler. About where I was when I was fourteen," Harry added thoughtfully, hiding a grin. "As Sirius so aptly demonstrated, though, real duelists can fight almost without a sound. I know all of you are pretty good with nonverbal casting, but few, if any, of those spells are any good in a fight. So, basically, I want you to be able to do what you did earlier without shouting your spells out. Who can tell me why?"
"So we don't tip off our opponent of what we're about to do," Remus said before anyone else could answer.
"Exactly. So let's start with the disarming charm. I assume you can all cast it fine—it is a second-year spell—but show me," Harry ordered. The four Marauders faced off, Sirius with Remus and James with Peter. With a chorus of shouts, wands went flying. James even got pushed back a little by the power in Peter's spell, which was a pleasant surprise for Peter.
"Good. Can you do it silently?"
Sirius's wand twitched and he almost lost his grip on it, but no one else managed anything. James tried to cheat and whisper the spell, but Harry caught him on the first syllable and cast a silencing charm on him. He ignored the resultant glare and thoroughly enjoyed the constipated look on James's face while he tried to concentrate.
"Not bad for a first try. Good job, Remus," Harry said with a smile. "Any questions?"
Sirius raised his hand. "What good is the disarming charm in a duel?"
Harry gave him a wry smile. "Can you cast spells without a wand?" Sirius opened his mouth, then shook his head ruefully. James gave Harry a suspicious look, though. "I didn't think so. Most wizards can't. So, take away their wand and they're helpless. A quick stupefy and you win. If they're lucky, they're smart enough to dodge, but most wizards don't think like that. Which is another thing I'm hoping to rectify."
"You were born for this, weren't you? Teaching?" Peter cut in, smiling slightly.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know about being born for it, but I do enjoy it."
"I feel like you've been through all this before, just not with us," Remus pointed out. Harry smiled sheepishly.
"Maybe in another life I was a DADA teacher?" he offered, hoping they didn't look farther than that.
"Or you're teaching another group of students without our knowledge," Sirius retorted with a pout.
"I promise, you guys are the first ones I've ever taught this to," Harry said. It was technically true, seeing as the DA wouldn't exist for another twenty years or so. "But enough about me. Get to it," he said with a grin. The other Marauders gave him looks varying from annoyed to amused, then got to it. With a little coaching from Harry, and Remus once he got it, the others were able to cast the disarming charm silently by the end of the hour Harry had appointed. While it got the job done, it lacked the power a verbal charm would have.
"Good job, guys. Keep practicing and eventually there will be no difference between the nonverbal charm and the spoken one," Harry said.
"Of course, o wise master," Sirius quipped. James added to the joke by bowing low at the waist.
"We will follow you to the ends of the earth," he said solemnly. Even though Harry knew they were joking, he felt his cheeks flush uncomfortably.
"Just follow me back to the common room," he said shortly. The pair nodded eagerly, and follow they did—right on Harry's heels. Remus and Peter followed at a more reasonable distance. Several times Sirius stepped on the back of his shoes, and just outside the common room he finally succeeded in taking it off. Harry scowled and shoved his foot back into the shoe. "Move it, idiots," he said, giving both James and Sirius a rough push toward the portrait hole. They stumbled forward and gave Harry twin looks of hurt and betrayal, but at least they complied. Harry rolled his eyes as they gave the password in perfect unison, then followed them in with Remus and Peter behind him.
The remainder of the weekend passed in relative calm, when you consider Harry's company, then on Monday classes began once more. After a morning of Arithmancy and Charms, where even Harry struggled to grasp the new concepts and spells, it was almost a relief to go to Potions after lunch. He was seriously considering dropping out of Arithmancy—the only reason he wasn't failing was because of Tonks's and Lily's careful tutelage, and while it was interesting when he finally got it, it wasn't really worth the effort, and the practical application still escaped him—apparently spell-crafting didn't come until seventh year. At least in Potions all he had to do was follow instructions—even if said instructions were becoming more and more detailed and the timing had to be exactly right or the concoction would literally blow up in your face.
Consequently, when Harry got to Potions, he was more than ready to brew. He was still partnering with Severus, which none of the Marauders but Remus could understand (and even Remus was a little skeptical), and they'd developed an almost uncanny ability to exchange witty comments and the occasional insult while brewing that made even Professor Slughorn nervous sometimes.
"So what's this I hear about you starting a dueling club?" Severus murmured. "Finally decided to share your great power with us peasants?"
Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "What power? The only thing I have on them is experience. And it's not a club. It's keeping a promise."
A pause while Severus carefully measured out ground snake fangs. "So there are trustworthy lions in the pride."
"Does trust not exist in Slytherin?" Harry tipped the ground fangs into the cauldron. It hissed and Harry winced, but the color changed appropriately.
"Only trust that a person won't stab you in the back without a really good reason," Severus responded, after giving Harry a mocking look for his earlier wince.
"Surely it can't be that bad," Harry said doubtfully, thinking of Regulus. He hadn't seen the younger boy often recently, and the last time they had a real conversation was right after Christmas. Harry mentally promised himself to seek him out as soon as possible.
"I suppose it depends on the person," Severus conceded, his voice still low. He stirred while Harry added exactly two grams of crushed belladonna flower between stirs six and seven. "But for the most part, it is. Especially now," he added, his tone turning darker.
"You mean with…You-Know-Who?" Harry said in an undertone. He knew Slytherins didn't like hearing the name Voldemort, but Harry could never bring himself to call him the Dark Lord—for one, that was what his followers called him, and for two, it always reminded him of the prophecy, which consequently reminded him of the night he heard it, which happened to be the night Sirius—his godfather Sirius—died.
Severus nodded shortly and Harry got the sense that the conversation was over, at least for the time being. But the sideways look Severus gave him as he handed Harry the next ingredient implied that he was willing to continue the conversation in a more secure location.
The rest of the class passed in silence but for murmured comments and instructions between partners. As per usual, Harry and Severus got the best potion, with Lily and Marlene in second place. James and Sirius came in tied for third with the pair of Ravenclaws in the back of the room, and everyone else's was varying degrees of awful. Peter's and Remus's cauldron was smoking in a puffing pattern, like a man smoking on an old-fashioned pipe. It was also toxic green, when it should be deep purple.
"Should I even ask why the two of you are even still allowed to attend class?" James asked as the groups filed out of the classroom. Harry caught Severus's eye and they silently agreed to meet in the library after classes finished for the day to continue their conversation.
"The written work balances out our terrible class performance," Remus admitted sheepishly. "It's just a lot harder to focus with so many potent ingredients. It makes me nauseous and light-headed. Sorry, Pete," he added with an apologetic glance at his potions partner.
Peter shrugged and smiled reassuringly. "Without you I wouldn't even be in NEWT potions, so barely scraping an A is fine with me."
"I'm just impressed you're even bothering to put forth the effort," Sirius said. "If it were me, I would have dropped ages ago."
"Well, you're not a bookworm obsessed with taking useless classes for the potential educational value," James said pompously. Sirius snorted, but Peter spoke.
"Were you holding that sentence in reserve? Because otherwise you wouldn't waste your breath on such big words."
James dropped his jaw wide and pretended to look terribly hurt. "Why would you say such a thing?" He sniffed once and Harry rolled his eyes.
"Stuff it, Bambi."
James gasped and turned his hurt look on Harry; the others burst into laughter. "What did I ever do to you?"
For a terrible moment, Harry was tempted to quote his father's words from Professor Snape's pensieve ("it's more than the fact that you exist"), but he bit his tongue. Even in jest that was going too far. "You're being ridiculous. I think Lily's dramatic enough without your help. The school can't take two drama queens."
Sirius snorted and burst into guffaws, gripping Peter's shoulder for support. Peter was grinning widely and Remus was giving James a look that said, you asked for it. James pouted, but quickly sobered up when Lily passed the group with her roommates. She rolled her eyes at James, obviously not fooled in the slightest. Tonks caught Harry's eye and winked. He grinned back unreservedly.
Near the main staircase, Sirius and Peter broke away from the group and headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures. The rest headed for Ancient Runes. Lily and Tonks promptly grabbed each of Harry's arms and sat him down between them, and Lily made sure it was Remus, not James, sitting beside her.
"Uh, why am I sitting here?" Harry asked of his surrogate sister and his teenaged mother.
"Because we're tired of the boys corrupting you," Tonks began.
"And Babbling is assigning a group project today, and I'd rather work with you than either of them—no offense, Remus," Lily tacked on at the end. Remus shrugged and smiled.
"None taken. I'd rather work with Harry, too."
"Too bad. He's taken," Tonks said, and Harry realized she was still gripping his arm possessively.
"What the hell, Jos? Let go," he protested weakly, trying to tug his arm free.
"No. Aside from Arithmancy tutoring, you spend all your time with them. I feel neglected," Tonks said, pulling a pout that looked remarkably similar to the one James had worn just minutes earlier in the corridor.
Harry rolled his eyes, but he had to concede her point—he had been spending more time with the other Marauders than with his sister, and considering how close they'd grown over the summer it was kind of unforgivable. "Fine. I'll do this project with you and try to be fairer in my time distribution," he said.
Tonks squealed in delight—definitely overdoing it—and still refused to let go of his arm. Moments later Professor Babbling began the class. Sure enough, the group project was assigned and Harry was immediately claimed by the two girls on either side of him. James shot him a slightly jealous look in response to Lily's triumphant one, to which Harry responded with a helpless shrug.
"I'll put in a good word for you," he told James later.
"Fine," James conceded. "But if I even suspect something's going on…" he let the threat trail off. He was only half-joking, Harry knew.
"Warning duly noted," he replied, trying and failing to maintain a straight face. Honestly, he hadn't shown any interest in anyone since coming to Hogwarts. That was hardly going to change now. Not to mention James was worried about Lily, Harry's future mum. Just the thought made him shudder in revulsion.
"Good," James said firmly.
Their last class that day, DADA, went as expected. Professor Dean was still drilling them in preparation for the dueling tournament he'd decided to hold at the beginning of May—a month and a half away. Rather than teaching them new spells in class, he was teaching them the dueling application of the ones they'd already learned in their six years of schooling—including spells learned in Charms and Transfiguration. He even managed to pull in a few spells that were generally only used in potion making. Every class period he assigned a short essay on an old spell—some of them first-year spells—to be turned in next class, and each weekend he assigned a lengthier essay on a different spell they had to research themselves. By the end of the same week, he expected them to have learned the spell they'd researched. Then the process would repeat itself.
The other teachers were piling on the homework as well as exams drew nearer. They would be held at the end of May, giving the students a few weeks and the end of the term to relax before returning home for the summer. Once he included extra-curricular activities and exam revision, Harry realized he was pretty much booked for the rest of term. Only Sundays were free, and that was only because Harry refused to do homework on the weekend if he could help it, and if he did he finished it Saturday morning. Unfortunately, the Marauders had caught on to his study habits and adopted them for their own, and insisted that Sunday be used for Harry's dueling lessons and prank planning.
Speaking of pranking, plans were already being made for James's birthday at the end of the month. It was hard to find time to plan when he wasn't present, but the other four Marauders made do. Even though there were still two weeks before his birthday, Sirius refused to waste a second—he wanted absolute revenge from his own elaborate birthday prank. Remus joined in good-naturedly, while Peter and Harry took it upon themselves to give Sirius some good-natured ribbing about said pranks.
Being so busy, the week after Remus's birthday passed quickly and before Harry knew it, it was Sunday morning. He was up early, as usual, and went on his habitual run before getting ready for the day. Peter had joined him at the beginning, but after a few weeks he'd decided he liked his sleep better than he liked the exercise, so Harry was alone again. Harry was fairly sure Tonks was still doing a daily run as well, but as he never saw her in the mornings anymore, she must have been doing it either at night or somewhere besides the Quidditch pitch. During the winter months, Harry had used the Room of Requirement, but now it was finally warm enough and the ground nearly firm enough to go back outside.
After about an hour Harry came in from his run, lightly sweating from exertion though the cool air made him shiver a little. While the grounds were no longer a mire and the rain had more or less stopped, a lot of mud remained. Naturally, it was also caked on his shoes. Harry was in no mood to get detention from Filch for something as minor as tracking mud into the castle, he made sure to cast a few cleaning spells on his shoes before going inside.
Harry took his time heading back up to Gryffindor Tower. He enjoyed the quiet time before the castle truly woke up. It was the ideal time to think. While his feet carried him up staircase after staircase, Harry mentally went over his plans for the day. He was definitely going to track down Regulus and make sure he was doing okay, and maybe help him with homework, and hopefully Severus later as well—they hadn't had a chance to finish their conversation from Monday, and Harry felt it was important to talk to him sooner rather than later. Lily had also mentioned that there was something she wanted to talk to Harry about, and though it had been a passing comment it seemed important. And his surrogate sister wanted to duel again. Harry hoped to use that as a demonstration duel for the Marauders, as they wanted to have another dueling lesson later that afternoon.
Harry went to the library first, after showering and making himself presentable. Sure enough, Regulus was there, at the usual table in the back by the History section. After greetings and a short time working independently, Harry finally broached the topic.
"How's your arm?" he asked, going for casual.
Regulus grimaced. "Not so bad, but not better either. If it hasn't stopped hurting by Easter, I'm going home to demand redress."
"And…how are you?" Harry asked cautiously.
Regulus shrugged (with only one shoulder) and turned slightly away. "Fine," he grumbled.
Though Harry disliked that answer, he knew better than to pry—whenever he tried, Regulus would clam up and push him away. "Well, you know where to find me," he said. Regulus nodded shortly, and the conversation moved on to other topics. After an hour or so, Regulus finished the assignment he was working on and took his leave. So, Harry went in search of Severus.
Finding Severus proved to be easier said than done. He wasn't in the library or the Slytherin common room (according to a third-year Slytherin he'd once helped on an Ancient Runes assignment), and the other regular places Harry knew Severus to go were empty as well. He'd even searched a few of the unlikely places. Finally, he broke down and borrowed the Marauders' Map from James, and finally located Severus in one of the student potions labs. Dodging questions as he returned the map, Harry headed down to the dungeons.
When he found the right door, Harry made sure to knock softly—just in case the Slytherin was working on a particularly difficult or sensitive potion. He waited a few moments, then the door opened.
"Harrison?" Severus asked with faint surprise.
"Were you expecting someone else?" Harry asked with some amusement. Severus scoffed.
"Hardly. Slughorn occasionally checks in while I'm working—it's one of the conditions for using the lab. But no one else."
"What are you working on?" Harry asked as he entered the lab. He looked around at the ingredients and the partially complete potion in the lightly smoking cauldron. "Dreamless sleep?" he guessed.
Severus nodded. "For the hospital wing." He closed the door and resumed work on the potion. Wordlessly Harry set about preparing the ingredients that were left—he'd made his fair share of dreamless sleep over the summer and had the recipe memorized.
For a while the two worked in companionable silence. Partway through Harry realized Severus had a second potion brewing as well. He raised his eyebrow as he watched the Slytherin switch between the two seamlessly. Harry was good, but even he had trouble trying to multi-task like that, especially with the slightly more difficult potions.
After about an hour, Harry finally broke the silence. "So I figured we could finish the conversation we started on Monday in class, since we didn't have a chance before."
Severus made a noise of assent, but didn't reply until his second potion was simmering lightly and no further action was needed for a while. "Most of the seventh years are Marked, or will be as soon as they graduate," he began in a low voice. "And the sixth years are anxiously waiting their turn."
"All of them?" Harry asked. He knew most of Severus's dorm mates would eventually become Death Eaters, but he didn't know about the girls.
"Well, all but a few."
"And…what do you think about it?"
"Think about what?"
"Your house mates taking the Mark."
For a long moment, Severus was silent. He instead focused his attention on shredding dandelion roots. Harry allowed the silence, knowing from experience that trying to force Severus—or any Slytherin, for that matter—to speak when they weren't ready was asking for trouble. "They're too anxious to sign away their future," Severus finally said.
"Oh?"
"Slytherins are an ambitious lot. Most have big dreams, and they want to pursue them as soon as possible. Jobs in the Ministry, going after a Mastery, some apprenticeship. There is no future in serving an extremist with nothing to offer."
Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You think…he has nothing to offer?"
"He offers power. Powerful spells, forbidden knowledge. But what use is that, in and of itself? People will fear you if you serve Him, and that will fluff some egos. Of course there are some Slytherins that seek just that. But ultimately…where does it get you?"
Harry's eyebrows were practically at his hairline, though Severus wasn't watching his face. He was focusing on preparing the next ingredient. If this Severus had that opinion of serving Voldemort, then how had his future counterpart ended up Marked? Had something happened after sixth year that changed his mind? Or had Harry changed that much just by being his friend?
"Where do you want to go, then?" Harry asked. He knew it was a personal question, and Severus didn't do personal. But it didn't hurt to ask.
"Slughorn knows a Potions Master, and offered to get me an apprenticeship with him," Severus replied, and for one of the only times Harry could remember, a faint but genuine smile lit his friend's face.
"Then you want to be a Potions Master?"
Severus nodded. "I'd like to start my own business, researching, creating, and selling my own inventions," he said, that faint smile still on his lips. Harry felt an answering one spread across his face. It was easy to see how passionate Severus was about his dream.
"Then, this brewing for the hospital wing…is that the apprenticeship for the apprenticeship?" Harry quipped.
Severus rolled his eyes. "Slughorn figured he might as well make use of my talent as well as get samples of my work."
"So what do you do in here all day?"
"I restock the hospital wing at my own pace—unless there's a particular demand, like there is now for pepper-up potion." Harry nodded—half the school, it seemed, had caught some form of a cold in the last month or so, thanks to the damp and cold. "The rest of the time I'm free to brew what I like, though I have to have him approve any of my own recipes or major alterations to existing ones."
"That's brilliant," Harry said, grinning. "Any chance I could help out? At the very least, if I brew the potions for the hospital, you'll have more time to experiment."
Severus's eyebrows shot up, then narrowed. "What's in it for you?"
Harry grinned. "I get to practice my brewing and do some good."
"You'd willingly give up weekends that you could spend playing pranks with your little friends?" Severus asked incredulously. A note of bitterness crept into his voice as he mentioned the Marauders.
"Not all weekend, but some of it. You're my friend, too," Harry replied, shrugging.
"You'd have to get Slughorn's approval. What would your friends think if they knew you were spending weekends with a 'slimy snake' like me?"
"Who said they had to know?" Severus gave Harry a hard look, and he shrugged in surrender. "You're right; they'd find out eventually."
"Just like I will," Severus muttered under his breath, almost too quiet for Harry to catch. He supposed being a wolf animagus was good for something—while not nearly as pronounced as Remus's, he had his fair share of enhanced senses as well, as did the others in varying degrees.
"Will what?" Harry asked, calling Severus out.
Severus glared at him sharply. "Nothing," he retorted. "I'm just about done here; you can go."
Harry raised an eyebrow, but he recognized a dismissal when he heard one. "All right. See you later, then." He raised a hand in farewell, then let himself out of the lab and returned the main castle.
From Harry's growling stomach, it was dinnertime, so he headed for the Great Hall. There he found the Marauders, who asked him where he'd been all day and why he smelled like pickled vegetables. Harry shrugged, hiding a smirk, and dug in to his meal.