The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Twenty-eight

Harry groaned as he woke up, taking a minute to try and remember what had woken him and why he felt so cruddy. A glance at his clock took him a moment to register, because apparently the argument downstairs that had disturbed him wasn't over. He couldn't understand it, but he did find his glasses and read the clock: 5:30, shortly before sunrise, Aug 22nd. Harry let himself fall back into the bed and muttered several words worth getting his mouth washed out. Beside him, Neville shifted and groaned as well.

"Harry, what the Hell are you doing shifting about?"

"Argument downstairs." Harry muttered, pulled back just enough from the pillow. "And sorry. You could have shared with Ron again."

Neville yawned and shifted back into his pillow. "No. Ron twitches and sprawls. You don't. Deal with it."

"Buggery." Harry growled and shifted back down, before getting up with a muffled curse; he had to use the loo, dammit. "Be back shortly, Neville."

Neville made an inarticulate noise and pulled the blankets around himself once more. Harry just rubbed his eyes and wandered into the hallway and across, pausing when he returned. It sounded like Regulus was the one having a fit, and Harry frowned before sneaking downstairs. Whatever it was was more than any of them had heard all summer; he might as well listen in to see what was the problem. He didn't have to go far; down on the landing below, Nanna was already sitting in the doorframe listening intently. She looked up as Harry crouched beside her and shushed him with her hand, pointing further downstairs at the light spilling onto the stairs from the kitchen. Voices were down there, the voices of Dumbledore and Regulus, and possibly a few others. Harry was surprised to hear his father add to the argument, sounding surprising pleasant. What on earth …

"-You're still denying all of it? Do you know how impossible it is to get Harry and the twins to pay attention? They are so easily distracted, it's a wonder they can play Quidditch."

"Harry's a seeker: he's supposed to be distracted by small shiny objects. Beaters get to try and knock people off their brooms. Neither spot is all that boring." Regulus retorted.

"Neville never pays attention for more than five minutes if the learning isn't moving fast enough for him." Alice added her voice. It seemed to be a really odd combination to Harry: Alice, his father, Regulus and Dumbledore.

"Neville's migrating towards Alan half the time." Regulus dryly pointed out. "The two of them seem to entertain each other with half insults, small lies, and a modicum of truth. The boy should've been anything other than a Gryffindor. He's got the drive of a Ravenclaw and the cunning of a Slytherin. I've yet to see a single Gryffindor characteristic in him."

"Regulus." Dumbledore added. "You understand all of them very well."

"Dumbledore, I've told you already, I will not teach your stupid brats. I'd terrify the little Hufflepuffs, antagonize the Gryffindors and be lynched by the Slytherins. The Ravenclaws would want to interrogate me to find out precisely why a dead man was alive, and I'll thank you if I don't want to deal with that. The children here are far different than the general populace. Stop trying to drag me into your school."

Dumbledore sighed in grand disappointment, and James growled, "Coward."

Harry wished he could see what had transpired from that. Something crashed and shattered; Alice growled some foul word that made Harry change where Neville had learned half his language, and then Dumbledore shouted, "Enough!"

There was silence for several minutes before Dumbledore finally asked, "Regulus, I'm ashamed of your reaction, and while James was out of line, you did not need to respond so. Now, it's a simple request. Will you, or will you not, teach Defence at Hogwarts for the next year? Right now, there is a threat of a ministry lackey becoming teacher, and I do not believe she will be a very friendly woman towards your godson."

"Dumbledore …" Regulus growled. He sighed angrily, and there was a period of quiet before he finally answered in a carefully pleasant voice. "I am not going to paint 'Shoot me' on my naked hide and dance on the Fountain of Magical Brethren, much less teach the goddamn brats present at your school, so back the fucking Hell off and leave me be. Go pester Geoffrey into doing something so stupid; I'm having none of it. Good day." He finished in a snarl, and Harry and Nanna heard him begin to climb the stairs.

Nanna squeaked quietly and slipped inside her own door, and Harry stood to return to his own room before Regulus went by. He slipped inside quietly, and closed the door, waiting in the dark for Regulus to walk by. Harry nearly jumped when Neville spoke up around a yawn.

"What's going on downstairs, then?"

Harry sighed heavily, and walked backwards, hearing Regulus step quickly by and moving back into bed, putting his glasses on the table in the aim of getting more sleep. Five was not an hour he wished to be awake for.

"Dumbledore was asking Regulus to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts because he can handle us so well. Regulus said no."

"In that many words?"

Harry could hear the incredulous expression Neville would be wearing, with his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. "No, he ended it by saying he wasn't about the paint 'shoot me' on his naked hide and dance on the Fountain of Magical Brethren, much less teach Dumbledore's little brats."

Neville burst into stifled chuckles, and Ron blearily inquired as to what had them up. Both of them reassured him they'd tell him later, when it was daylight, and Ron subsided. Neville and Harry followed suit, but sleep was elusive. Neville finally asked another question.

"You were gone too long for that to be all you heard. Anything else of interest?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Your mother has a foul mouth."

Neville groaned. "What got her going this time?" Harry hesitated, and Neville clucked his tongue. "Harry …"

"My dad called Regulus a coward and Regulus retaliated somehow. He didn't appreciate it, apparently. Dumbledore broke them up."

Neville was silent for a time, and then shrugged. "That'd do it. Anything else fun said? Before that."

Harry shifted onto his back. "Regulus said he couldn't find any Gryffindor qualities in you for some reason. All Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Neville was silent, and then shrugged, settling without a word. Harry waited, but Neville didn't respond, and finally he grew too curious and turned to look at what he could see of him in the dark room.

"Neville?"

"The Sorting Hat wanted me in either of those, not Gryffindor. I didn't want to be sorted separate from you, and knew you wouldn't go anywhere but Gryffindor. Maybe if I'd chosen otherwise you'd finally be yourself, rather than lying to your mum and dad, alright?" Neville rolled to put his back to Harry and finished. "You're still scared of him, whether you'll admit it or not, and it's pathetic."

Harry silently absorbed what Neville had said, and then nodded curtly, swallowing hard. "Then maybe I'll just go share with Ron, if you're so disgusted." Harry angrily returned.

"You do that. Come back when you can grow up."

"I haven't heard anything of you telling your parents about that." Harry shot. He didn't want to hear this from Neville. This was his brother, and he …

"Was my mother surprised at all when Regulus threw that at her?" He waited a moment for Harry to remain distinctly silent and finished, "I thought not. Go back to sleep, Harry."

Harry waited, and then grabbed his glasses and moved them to the other nightstand by Ron, poking the redhead quietly to try and get him half-awake again. Ron didn't move, and in a fit of pique, Harry donned his glasses, grabbed a housecoat, and moved his way into the library, finding a table and curling up in a nearby over-stuffed chair.

He couldn't help brooding on just how many times Neville had accused him of cowardice, how many times Alan had said the same. Both of them, both of the people he liked most thought he was a coward. Did they ever think? He knew it was cowardice on his part. He couldn't tell his parents; couldn't stand the thought of it. His mother would be disappointed, and James …

He'd seen when James had heard Charlie Weasley going on about what magnificence Basilisks exemplified. James had called them despicable creatures, being favoured by Slytherin. Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror and a passing friend had had to talk his way into James' regard, being hindered by having been a Slytherin in school. He'd used the reasoning that he'd almost made Gryffindor, but had had a little too much ambition as a kid, had wanted to be great before he'd wanted to help. It had taken James almost nine months to start acknowledging that Kingsley was talented, loyal, and wonderful, and he'd then spoken of it as what a shame him not being Gryffindor had been. Harry wondered if Neville even remembered all those arguments, all the anger Harry wanted to avoid. He'd been far too curious as a child, far too inquisitive. He'd always been where he shouldn't have, so no matter how much his mother had tried, he'd come across his father in his anger, and he'd heard him ranting many times. And to run into a boggart with those irrational fears … with his own understanding of the school houses and his subconscious acknowledgement that he truly held such Slytherin characteristics … Harry had merely been grateful Remus was willing to remain silent, willing to keep Harry's shameful fears to himself.

They just never seemed to understand. Harry found that he didn't really understand it himself; he knew his father wasn't really all that bad; he'd apparently accepted Regulus alright. Hell, even Sirius was being civil to his brother now, but … Harry couldn't shake the fear. It was Regulus they were accepting, Regulus who had risked his life to leave behind his mistakes, Regulus who had thrown away his past. Essentially, Regulus had firmly abandoned whatever made him intolerable. Harry would be exposing a lie. And he knew he wasn't supposed to lie, but how do you tell such a truth? Keeping it under wraps was safest; keeping it under wraps let everyone be happy. Why were Neville and Alan so insistent that he open up about it?

"Hey, Potter."

Harry yelped and nearly rolled out of the chair. Looking up, Harry swallowed his heart out of his throat as Regulus looked down at him with a wry smile.

"Good morning. Did the argument wake you up?" Harry nodded cautiously and pulled out of the ball he'd curled into, hoping Regulus wouldn't notice how upset he'd been. Apparently his hopes were in vain, however, as Regulus gently reached over and brushed Harry's cheek, a small tear on his finger. Harry knew Regulus was aware that he and Alan were friends; Alan had long ago told him. Alan told Regulus everything, like he was a big brother or a father figure. Regulus just watched him for several minutes, before he leaned back in the wooden chair that was just adjacent to a nearby table, currently right next to Harry's overstuffed chair.

"You came down and listened to a fair bit of it, didn't you?" Harry didn't bother denying it, just shrugging. "You must have been there to hear your father insult me, then, and the fight we got into. It wasn't bad; he'll just be silver and green for a little while." Harry tried to suppress a flinch, and Regulus was silent for several minutes. Harry didn't know what he was thinking, as he wasn't looking at him, but finally Regulus placed his hand gently on Harry's shoulder before he pulled his wand and silently cast a silencing charm and privacy ward. "Harry …" He began, and then shook his head.

"Harry, you know how much Alan tells me. And several times he's mentioned things you probably wouldn't appreciate about you. He does the same about all his friends, Andrew and Blaise and all as well, I hear everything. I know you're his best friend, on a level with Andrew, but I'm sure you know exactly what Alan thinks of your attitude towards your father. Harry … would you tell me why you're so scared of that?"

Harry felt a growing blush of anger on his cheeks. Alan was in such deep shit for bandying that about! He knew Harry didn't want him talking about it, and he goes ahead and spills it to Regulus like it's some old news! Between him and Neville, you'd think that was all they noticed! How fucking scared he was! Well, he wasn't damn scared, he was being damn practical and at least he never spoke up with things were better left silent!

A moment later, the wind completely left his sails, and Harry curled further in on himself as self-recrimination pulled down on him. He knew better, damn it. He'd spoken up about Neville when he shouldn't have, even if it was to Alan, and Harry knew very well that Alan told Regulus everything. He'd never had a problem with it before, either. But then again …

"Harry, do you want to know what I fear? And it's not the death of a loved one, either."

Harry looked up when Regulus offered, and found Regulus to have a flat, earnest grey gaze, with no guile and no expectations; in fact, he looked mildly preoccupied. Finally, Harry nodded softly. Regulus answered in a quiet voice, holding his gaze the entire time.

"I fear inferi, and water. I haven't been swimming in a long time. I've always disliked swimming, though. But I never feared it before. Do you want to know why I fear that?" Harry nodded slowly, never losing Regulus' gaze. He watched his expression grow wry. "Most would say I got it doing something heroic. I've never considered it such. I got it going after that locket, though. To get through, I had to take a boat across a black lake filled with inferi. They were quiescent, at first. Completely so until I drank the potion to get down to the locket so Kreacher could leave with it." Regulus closed his eyes and looked away. "It was a hallucinogen that recreated bad memories, alongside pain. The number of people I'd killed then, as a Death Eater … and I was so thirsty, and the only water …" Regulus fell silent, his hands clasped together in a white knuckled grip. Harry finished what he could not say, the conclusion so obvious for someone like Voldemort.

"The water in the lake, and … it woke the inferi. How … how did you …"

Regulus sighed, and after another long moment ran his fingers through his hair. "Kreacher. As they tried to drag me down, he forced them to let go, and popped me out of the room, to my room here. My mother was here, saw me come home … I kept her silent for a few days with my weakness, until I was feeling better … then I obliviated her, and left. Ran into Amber, and … well, that's how I attached to Alan."

Harry felt a little startled that Regulus had told him that, that Regulus had gone through that to put down Voldemort. Harry shook his head, and looked aside, finally speaking. "That has nothing to do with me and my fear."

"I feared my mother before I ever feared inferi, Harry." Regulus answered blandly. Harry whipped around in surprise, and Regulus gave another wry smile. "It wasn't a boggart worthy fear, and in a way, that was unfortunate. It should have been. I never went against her, and you know where that led me. I followed her every whim like a blind doll, led like a horse wearing blinders and I never took them off until they were ripped from my face, leading to me going into that lake. The change was almost unbearable. I would have died had Amber not taken me up. You're not blind, Harry, you don't even wear blinders. Your parents didn't raise you that way. You're imposing your own limits upon yourself." Harry's face grew stubborn, and Regulus smiled truly then, throwing him off. "I wonder how many students don't go where they're suited because of the expectations their parents have." He smiled when Harry leaned forward, his question in his eyes. "Hufflepuff, Harry. Had I been willing – not afraid – at eleven I would have belonged in Hufflepuff. But I was groomed to be a Slytherin." Regulus stood and walked out as he finished his statement, cancelling the spells. "Are you only ever going to be who you were groomed to be, Harry? Are you going to let your father live that blindly?" Regulus turned back. "Maybe you should think that it's not you who must grow up, but him. But nobody's made him do that yet, you know. Nobody's made him think." Regulus turned out again and left with the last words, "He's as bad as my mother that way."

Harry waited behind in his seat in silence, thinking hard and long about Regulus last point. His father, as bad as Walburga Black? It was ludicrous, but Harry knew better than anyone that it was frighteningly accurate. He certainly wasn't as militant as her, but he was definitely intolerant of others for inane reasons. Someone's house in school? It was almost more pathetic than blood supremacy. A schoolyard grudge carried above and beyond the point of reason.

Harry curled into himself once more, and laid his head on the arm of the chair. His father was wearing blinders … it sounded like a pretty good analogy. It sounded like a very accurate analogy. But Regulus had advised that those blinders be torn off, and that Harry might be the one to do it. Could he, though? Could he really walk up to his father and tell him to wake up and accept that house means nothing towards who a person was? Could he? Would he be brave enough to speak up? He wasn't really Gryffindor; he was Slytherin.

Harry groaned and rolled over. His ridiculous fear was causing problems left right and centre. Neville had given up his house to be with Harry where his fear would take him. Harry was giving up an open friendship with Alan for this. Maybe … Maybe he could try it a little at a time. Maybe he could just tell his mother … Lily would be much more reasonable about it; she was still friends with Severus no matter how much James disapproved; well, now that Severus had grown up. Take things one day at a time, and everything would turn out on it's own … everything would take care of itself, maybe … Hopefully …

IIII

Harry woke up in the library when Regulus came back and smiled, informing him breakfast was ready downstairs if he felt like eating; it was now nine. Harry muttered something unintelligible and curled up again, before Regulus left him be. A few minutes later, sleep was elusive, and he finally got up, going and getting changed before facing the others at the table. With his own typical luck, his mother was remaining at Grimmauld with the Weasleys today, so his half-formed plan of the morning was still plausible. Neville, however, wasn't talking to him and refused to sit by him, getting up and taking his half-eaten toast with him to go hide in the library. It wasn't obviously avoiding him – he'd already eaten breakfast and the toast was the last part of it – but Harry could see it for what it was.

Harry bit his lip as he ate, and then tailed his mother out of the kitchen into the drawing room like a sad puppy. Lily noticed it easily, and turned and smiled. They were alone in the drawing room, so Harry felt no shame going to her and hugging her desperately, wanting his mind to calm down. It wasn't listening, though. Lily finally just smiled and pushed him back enough to tilt his head so she could meet his eyes.

"You're feeling troubled, young man." She teased. "What has you in a dither?"

Harry couldn't smile, and gently turned his head aside. Lily's smile dropped and she pulled him to one of the chairs, sitting down and letting him choose to either take the other chair nearby, or sit with her. Harry compromised and sat on the floor in front of her. Lily leaned on her knees and waited. It was what she usually did when she suspected there was something Harry wanted to say that he wasn't sure how she'd react to. Usually it had been when he'd broken something and was afraid of a reprimand. Remembering made Harry calm down. He'd never been reprimanded too sharply after admitting something like that. This couldn't be worse than breaking Great-grandmother Evans' vase. Unfortunately, that had accepted a reparo quite well, and this wasn't going to fix so easily …

"Mum …" Harry tried. Lily gently ran her hand over his hair, an expectant expression on her face. Harry bit his lip again, and breathed carefully before he ducked and simply said it, "Mum, I'm … kinda scared, because … well, I overheard Regulus this morning when Dumbledore was trying to talk him into being the Defence teacher, and he told Alice that Neville seemed more Ravenclaw and Slytherin than Gryffindor, and Alice didn't mind because Neville had already told her about his sorting and that and … and I haven't ever told you that the –the Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin rather than Gryffindor, and … I'm just scared …"

Harry couldn't finish, but he didn't need to. Lily rose out of the chair with a faint, "Oh, Harry" and wrapped him into a hug. Harry hugged her tightly back, his fear and nervousness choking him. He didn't want to let go and see her face, didn't want to hear platitudes about how he shouldn't worry, he really was Gryffindor because that wasn't true, and wasn't what he wanted, and what would she think of why he was scared and would he have to say it all … "Harry, it's alright. Houses don't matter, you're my son whether you're more Gryffindor or more Slytherin; I don't care. You're my son."

Harry didn't want to consider whether he was crying about this or not. He settled for simple denial, and listening as his mother reassured him he was still loved no matter which he was more, Gryffindor or Slytherin … they were just houses. If only his father could believe the same …

After a few more minutes, Harry felt a little silly and a little more stable, pulling gently back. A glance at his mother showed an understanding smile, whether Harry believed the entirety of it or not. He smiled back, appreciating the support and wondering how he would now tell her he didn't want his dad to know … and why. She apparently sensed he had more to say, and took the option of not speaking away rather thoroughly.

"Harry, you're nervous now. What is it?"

"Mum … I'm scared, I … don't want dad to … know." Harry finished in a whisper, and continued just as quietly, "I'm scared of how he'll react to me … being more … Slytherin than perfect Gryffindor … I don't want him to … to hate me." He choked, and buried his head into her shoulder again. Lily gently stroked his back and murmured soothing words he didn't understand into his hair as he choked back several more sobs until he felt calmer and slightly deadened, and she finally answered.

"I won't tell him yet, Harry. You need to tell him yourself one of these days, but it doesn't have to be now. Thank you for telling me, Harry, thank you. You don't have to face him with this yet." Her voice was strangely hard, and Harry glanced up at her a moment feeling mildly in awe. Lily stroked his face and sighed. "Harry, I've never condoned your father's narrow-minded attitude towards Slytherins. Never. I dislike hearing him disparage Severus every time I speak with him, and his reaction to you being a parselmouth was despicable. It hurts that you're scared of him about this, Harry, but I understand. I can see why, I know what's so frightening. Thank you; thank you for telling me. But Harry, please." Lily leaned back and lifted his face again so they were eye to eye, Harry looking into green eyes as though looking in a mirror. "Your father will not hate you forever for this. He will probably be upset; he will not be happy, but he will accept it given time. He will never hate anything more than he loves you, and I know he will come around. As much as I understand your fear, I want you to face it and get it over with eventually. Not now, maybe not even this year, but eventually, alright? Promise me that you will eventually tell your father."

"I will." Harry answered easily. He wanted to tell his father eventually himself. But it wasn't going to be happening before Christmas, certainly. Maybe after he graduated … "I'll tell him. He needs to wake up, or else he'll be no better than Mrs. Black."

Lily's mouth twisted in distaste and she hissed. "He wouldn't be, would he? No better than a blood supremacist. I wonder how he'd react to that."

Harry giggled, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. He had not just giggled. Lily giggled back, and Harry sighed and smiled wanly at her. "Thank you." He whispered, and Lily hugged him once more before standing, giving Harry her hand and helping him to his own feet, smiling at the difference, slight though it was, that left Harry slightly shorter than she was.

"I love you, Harry. Go make up with Neville about whatever you two were being irritable about."

Harry ducked his head, and left, hesitating before giving her a wide smile and jogging up the stairs to the library, finding Neville easily and slowing before walking over. Neville looked up with a scowl that lightened into puzzlement as he saw the hesitant smile Harry wore. Harry joined him cautiously and sighed before he spoke quietly. "I told her." Neville's head shot up and his amber eyes were wide in surprise, eyebrows near his hairline.

"You told your mother? And lemme guess," He sardonically continued, "She had no problems with it, did she?"

Harry flushed slightly. "She's friends with Severus, alright?"

"You could never seem to remember that before."

"I was blinded by my father's insistence. I'm over that, now. I won't listen to someone who's no better than a blood-supremacist."

Neville looked up in surprise again, and slid his book closed over his finger. "You really got a changed attitude overnight. What happened to wake you up?"

Harry shrugged awkwardly, but had no way to avoid answering. Neville already knew about Alan and him being friends. "Regulus talked to me about it, and told me that he ended up screwed over because he only ever listened to his narrow-minded mother, and that he had to have his blinders ripped off before he woke up to find himself too deep to get out alive without a miracle. He … told me what happened for him to get the locket." Neville was curious, but Harry shook his head. "I'll just say it was a desperate act for him to do it, and he didn't expect to get out alive. As it was, he finished with telling me my dad was much like his mother in ways, and … it scares me to think that that is true."

Neville shook his head slowly and sighed. "It is scary. So your mum's fine with it, and you're waking up, then?"

"Yeah." Harry allowed. "I'm not so scared anymore. And even so, I didn't default into Gryffindor for nothing." Harry added with a small smile. "I had to have some courage for it to be allowed, didn't I?"

Neville smiled, and then ducked his head. "Good to hear. Oh, and Harry?" Neville's smile was sheepish. "I wasn't fully truthful about my house. It was really an all out debate and I could have gone to any of the houses. I didn't just pick it for you, although that was a minor part of the reason. I like Gryffindor for what it is no matter what, you and your attitude or not."

Harry sighed, and reached over to mess up Neville's hair. "You're a brat, you know that?"

"Only way to be Harry," Neville grinned. "Only way to be."

IIII

It wasn't two more days before they got their rather late Hogwarts letters. In addition to the Hogwarts letters, came the prefect assignments and some very excited students. They were handed out at lunchtime, and Harry smiled brightly as he pulled his open with everyone else, surrounded by the Marauders. When Neville picked his up, he smiled wryly before ripping it open and watching the heavy red and gold badge fall out. Hermione was similarly enthused, and the rest were unsurprised. Ron huffed,

"Does this mean Harry might get in less trouble now?"

Harry snorted, and Neville scoffed. "Yeah, right. He hasn't listened to me in the years previous. He's not going to listen to me now just because I made prefect."

"Certainly not." Harry allowed. He risked a glance towards Alan, and frowned curiously. Alan had not made prefect, which was almost surprising. It wasn't due to Snape; Alan was an excellent student, and responsible. He was the leader of his coterie, which was a significant portion of the house. However, Harry supposed it might have been for the same reason he was not prefect: Alan and he had gotten into far too much trouble, especially third year when they got into fights for show. Harry would have put his money on Blaise making it to prefect in Alan's stead. In addition, both Harry and Alan not making prefect might manage to mitigate possible arguments if neither of them were given any extra status. Harry had no problem with it, and Alan's lack of reaction save for a small smile made him believe the same of Alan. All the better for the coming year.

Mrs. Weasley sighed happily and quickly magicked the soup into bowls, placing them down the tables. "Everyone dig in, in celebration of our wonderful prefects. We'll have to have a party when you all get back from Diagon Alley. Are you all going together, or just the adults?"

Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione and the rest of them as well turned pleading glances at their parents. They had been stuck in this house far too long, and none of them wanted to miss this trip. Hermione also spoke up,

"My parents gave me some extra money to get a treat for myself. I'd really like to pick one out. I was thinking of getting something for Crookshanks, too …"

The adults sighed and glanced between each other before Lily pointedly turned to Severus,

"Will you be coming as well, Severus?" She asked. She ignored James' ugly look, and Severus' mouth twitched before he answered.

"I wasn't planning on it, but I suppose I should if only to accompany my son. I wouldn't wish for him to remain alone in such … questionable company." Harry forced himself to not laugh as James looked even less pleased, and Harry then smiled and stood.

"Does that mean we're all going, mum?"

Lily glanced around at the group, and smiled. "So long as we'll have an escort of several aurors, I don't see why not."

Sirius laughed raucously. "When you put it that way, Lily-kins, do we have much choice? I don't want to be lynched."

James was busy glaring at Severus, and Frank and Alice easily agreed. Lily turned back to give Harry and the others a small nod, and Molly quickly hustled them to their rooms to get ready. Harry spared a look back inside and found his mother eyeing James with a disconcerting look of displeasure. He felt a pang of worry that she might give him away in fury, but squelched it painfully and followed Neville and Ron to getting ready. If his mother had found a bone to pick with his father, that was her business. He'd trusted her with his secret, and if he couldn't trust his own mother, he was in deep shit.

IIII

The group going to Diagon Alley was one less than expected. Halfway through preparations, Lily's voice had echoed through the halls, exclaiming that James was a pureblooded inbred idiot without sense to fill a thimble before it was abruptly cut off with what must have been a silencing spell. The children were hesitant, but eventually they all gathered in the entrance hall once more, their Hogwarts letters firmly in hand, and curious looks on their faces. Harry was nervous, and Nanna was frowning at the door in worry, leaning on Melanie for support. Hermione and Ron had both offered gentle condolences, but Neville hadn't bothered. He knew what was scaring Harry, and he was of the opinion that Harry had to deal with it on his own. Harry actually preferred that attitude.

It was ten minutes more before the door was opened, and the spell removed, and Alice smiled up at them with only a faint trace of strain before beckoning them down. They walked in and found Lily standing by the floo and not talking, and James nowhere in sight. Harry went over to her immediately, and Lily just touched his shoulder with a faint shake of her head, and went back to silence, moving only to pull Nanna into a gentle hug and murmur comforting nothings to her, nothings Harry didn't believe for a moment, but were enough for the twelve-year-old girl.

Finally, everything was back together and seemed ready to move out, when Alan decided to break the silence with his quiet, plain voice,

"Where'd James Potter go?"

Lily answered curtly. "Home, until he can control his temper. Don't expect to see him soon."

No one else was willing to ask her to elaborate. Frank and Alice went through the floo first to the Leaky Cauldron, and then the children followed to begin the exploration of Diagon. It wasn't a long trip, but it was outside, and only mildly chaotic. In the end, they met at the only place to end a shopping trip with any child under eighteen and sometimes older, Florean Fortesque's. Hermione had gotten an enchanted cat toy as her 'treat'. Alice and Frank had gotten Neville several new books for his upgrade to prefect after he turned down a new broomstick and a familiar. Harry had seen Frank buying a fine chess set behind his back, but had said nothing. Harry had bought nothing new for himself, simply staying by his mother for comfort and feeling a little off balance. He hoped Quidditch would help him focus once he got to school; nothing else was giving him any peace.

He was also sitting close enough to the table the adults were gathered at to overhear their conversation.

"-behaving like that is liable to end in him getting fired. How does he get away with it?" Lily asked.

"Because most people agree with him, Lily." Severus grumbled. "He only dislikes Slytherins. He only loses his temper when someone lies to him, or evades his questions, although only if they're bad at it. He's quite blind to those more talented, but getting a rise out of him is child's play if you know his triggers."

"It's a liability!" Lily growled. "And I won't have it, not in my house."

"It's his house as well." Severus quietly pointed out. Harry suspected they were having the conversation with the others none the wiser.

"Not so much so, Severus. Harry was terrified when he found out he was a parselmouth."

The boy in question nearly coughed up his ice cream upon that pronouncement. Fortunately for him, Neville and Ron were busy talking Quidditch; he was the only one listening in on his mother's admission, and her table was similarly divided.

"That Gryffindor brat?" Severus asked. There wasn't nearly as much disgust in the question as Harry expected, almost simply surprise. "Why would he be afraid of that? It is a rare, and valuable gift."

"Yes, but it's a Slytherin, Dark gift, Severus. Don't forget that. And Harry was rightly scared; he stayed at school that Christmas out of fear."

"Nonsense." The return was toneless, obviously faked and with no meaning. He might as well said nothing.

"James was furious, wanting to know who would play such a trick on his son, who would dare fake something and make Harry believe that, make him out to be something so foul. And then Harry wrote that he was staying at school, and Neville validated it to be true, and James' denial became momentary anger and he got himself drunk, not wanting to believe it. Remember when I came that evening to visit for several hours? I was waiting out James' foolish tantrum. It makes me wonder why I married him at times, but if he would only grow up about that one thing … One thing, Severus!"

"It's one thing most people never grow out of, Lily."

"It's wrong."

Harry closed his eyes and tuned it out. It was undeniable. His father was in bad need of waking up to reality. He hadn't known so much, and now he did, and he was beginning to see where Neville and Alan were coming from in calling him a fool. He'd been as blind as his father for many different reasons. He'd now lost his blinders; it was time for him to stand up and wake his own father to the same sore facts. Knowing he had people behind him, people who agreed … people he'd been too blind to see …

The thought of telling his father didn't scare him so much anymore. Harry wondered when he'd get to see his next in line fear. He was almost looking forward to it.


A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews I got; Riley, dear sir, was the number one hundred. big hugs Thank you! I hope you like this chapter as well. I'm sure you can see we're almost out of summer, and back to the school year - and the classic adventures you always get with a Potter. See you next time I update.

Fire & Napalm