Chapter 29- Understand Draco

A/N- I know. I know it's been three months. I know you'll probably have to read the end of the last chapter to refresh your memory. I know. But it's been a weird couple months for me, so I hope you can understand. I had such severe writer's block, you guys. For this chapter especially. Do you know how hard it is to write a functional Harry Potter while still making him sound like Harry Potter? Really hard. At least, for me it was. Anyway, here is chapter 29, finally. And it's a long one so I hope that makes up for the wait. Then next week, I'm posting the epilogue for part 1. And then, yeah, I'll probably be disappearing again. Sorry. But hopefully I won't be gone for three months this time. It sucks for me too to wait that long. Love you all and hope you can forgive me for the wait. Please enjoy.


Draco strode back and forth in front of the fireplace. Someone had to. Usually the honor went to his Uncle Steven, but the man was currently sitting as still as a statue on the sofa. And he looked like Snape. It was all very strange and confusing.

Draco had awoken from his nap almost an hour ago, his head in Remus's lap. The werewolf was stroking his hair like he used to do whenever Draco came down with the mumblemumps as a child, which, unfortunately, was quite often.

For a long while, the blonde just laid there, enjoying the familiar comforting sensation of fingers through his hair, until finally he lifted his head and looked around the room in confusion.

"Where is everyone," he asked, his voice gravelly. More accurately, he wanted to ask, Where is my dad?

Remus smiled down at him. "Your dad and Dora went to hospital to smuggle Harry out before the media and the DMLE caught word that he's awake and swarmed his room."

Draco brightened at the news, suddenly itching to jump around the house in pure unadulterated joy. But then he caught sight of his professor staring moodily out the window of the study, his fingers twitching every so often towards the inside of his robes and then pulling away again as if the fabric were made of ice that burned at the touch. Draco watched the man for a long while. Finally, he realized the reason for Snape's indecision and Draco opened his mouth to settle the man's internal debate once and for all.

"Stop it," Draco stated bluntly, and Snape turned from the window abruptly, large, dark eyes landing on Draco in surprise.

"Stop what?" His voice was a little haunting, but Draco decided to pay it no mind. Underneath the dark eyes and the black hair was his Godfather. And no matter how strange, Draco would try to treat the man as such.

"Stop reaching for the polyjuice. You aren't taking it."

Snape glanced away quickly as if he couldn't look into Draco's eyes any longer, embarrassed to be caught out. The blonde felt a hand rest on his shoulder, but he shrugged Remus's touch off and got to his feet.

"Harry will not walk into this place and be met with a lie," Draco declared, but his tone lacked the heat Snape had probably been expecting. Suddenly dark eyes were back on Draco tinged with unexpected gratitude for Draco's kind timbre. And then it was gone, replaced with doubt and hesitation.

"He just woke up—"

"I don't care," Draco interrupted. "And you're not leaving, either," he added, striding over to his Godfather with determination. "I know it's hard, but… let's both try to not be Slytherins for a second. No running away, no deception, no strategizing. Now's not the time for any of that. Okay?"

The professor's lips curled up just slightly at the corners. "Are you suggesting I not draw out the inevitable and just get it over with like a bloody Gryffindor?"

Draco grinned. His Uncle Steven's casual teasing of Sirius's and Remus's house pride over the past ten years suddenly made a lot more sense. The Gryffindor/Slytherin house rivalry was legendary, spanning a millennia. If any good came out of all of this, Draco was glad to know that at least he wan't the only Slytherin in the household anymore. He supposed he never had been.

"I think Harry would appreciate it— probably not right way," Draco quickly amended. "But later on, surely. You know, after the initial yelling and righteous anger."

Snape snorted and it was such a weird expression to see on the potion master's face that for a moment, Draco had forgotten that this person in front of him was his Godfather. He couldn't help but flinch. He regretted the motion instantly, but there was no way to take it back. And this whole situation was still too new for Draco to even consider explaining the action to his Godfather in a way that would take away the sadness in the man's eyes, so he didn't even try. Snape nodded his head as if he understood, understood Draco in a way that even Draco wasn't entirely sure he fully grasped. Snape returned to staring out the window. Draco strode back over to the fireplace and began his pacing. Every so often he would glance Snape's way, glad to see that at least the man was taking Draco's advice to heart. He didn't reach for the polyjuice again. And he didn't leave either.

Corey popped in, poured tea for the three of them, accepted Remus's word of thanks with a slightly anxious smile, and popped away again. It was the only noise besides the tread of Draco's footsteps across the carpet as he paced. Everyone waited. And waited. And waited.

Despite all the waiting and anticipation, Draco still startled when the floo whirled to life and out stepped Sirius, followed by Harry, and then Tonks. The sudden claustrophobia in the too-small room was supremely outweighed by the elation Draco felt at seeing his brother, and before anyone could even utter a word, Draco jumped at Harry and wrapped him in a hug so tight, it bordered on strangulation.

But he was alive. Harry was alive. And hugging him back. Draco felt the world right itself again for the first time in weeks.

Some time into the embrace, Harry stiffened. Draco didn't have to look behind him to find out what made Harry react that way. Suddenly Draco wished he could just throw the invisibility cloak over the both of them and smuggle his brother away from all this. But that seemed a bit counterproductive to what Draco had just explained to Snape that they had to do. They had to face this head-on.

Gradually, Draco uncurled himself from the brunette, but remained as close as humanly possible to Harry in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. It comforted Draco, at least, to be within centimeters of Harry Potter. It always had.

Draco swallowed as he turned around to face the four adult occupants of the tiny study, bumping Harry's arm with his own every couple seconds to remind the boy that he was there if Harry needed him.

Draco's dad had sidled up to Severus, looking like he was offering a similar kind of solace with his proximity as Draco was currently offering to Harry. Synapses in his brain flashed into sudden focus. Snape was Sirius's brother just as much Harry was Draco's. The impact of that realization nearly knocked Draco to the floor. He understood, then, with vivid clarity just how much Snape meant to his dad. Meant to all of them. It settled into Draco's veins like hot tea on a cold day.

Snape was the first to make a move and Draco almost applauded the man's courage. He took a half-step closer to Harry and scrutinized every inch of the boy's body as if still looking for injury. Harry shifted beside Draco with apparent unease at the attention. After a bit, Snape looked satisfied with what he saw and cleared his throat.

"Hey kiddo," the professor managed. Strained though his words sounded, it still seemed to lighten the mood in the room. Draco twisted his head to look at Harry. His opinion was the only one that mattered right now though.

Harry blinked in rapid succession, quickly searching through everything he knew that might help him come up with a solution for why Severus Snape would be in Sirius's study. It didn't take long. Harry was smart.

He nodded jerkily. "Okay."

That one word was jarring for Draco. He realized it was because this was the first thing he'd heard Harry say in over two weeks.

"Okay then," Harry continued, seeming resigned to the conclusion he'd made about Snape. Then Harry's expression turned pained as he barked out a grim sort of laugh. "So… did you all know?"

Draco was eternally grateful the "you all" portion of Harry's question didn't seem to include him even with it's all-encompassing definition. He was also glad to be standing on Harry's side of the invisible line suddenly drawn down the center of his dad's study.

"You did," Harry surmised, drawing all kinds of conclusions on his own that afternoon. "You knew he was alive. And you—"

Draco watched Harry clench his fists at his sides only to make a conscious effort to straighten his fingers back out. Harry was trying his hardest not to collapse into rage. It wasn't going to work. But Draco was glad he was at least trying.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me think I killed him when I was a baby?!"

The four adults flinched at the biting words, and Draco might have as well, if he wasn't suddenly very aware of the magic pouring off of Harry in waves of emotion. Draco's skin prickled at his proximity to it.

Nobody answered Harry's questions. Draco thought that was a good plan. Let Harry get it all out before trying to explain, even if it may hurt immeasurably to listen to Harry's criticisms.

"I mean, the whole world thinks I'm some kind of savior, which… whatever, I guess. I don't really care if you didn't tell the whole of Great Britain, but you should have still told me! Maybe if I'd known, I wouldn't have walked my brother and I right into a trap! If I'd known I would have realized why my scar hurt every time I was around Quirrell! I would have figured out that Voldemort was possessing him! I could have told you!"

The glass lantern on Sirius's desk shattered at the burst of accidental magic. No one paid the slightest bit of attention to it. No one except Harry himself. He looked destroyed by what he'd just done in his surge of righteous anger, and in a nano-second, his fit of pique vanished. It was replaced by a deep-seeded, overwhelming fear.

His dad, Snape, and Remus all lunged into action at the same moment, practically falling at Harry's feet to check to make sure he was alright. Draco couldn't seem to feel anything except a strangely deep sense of love at Harry's concern for him. I wouldn't have walked my bother and I right into a trap. It hit Draco then that Harry had probably been just as eager to make sure Draco was alive as Draco was to find Harry awake and well.

Draco was certain he hadn't been this much of a sap before that day in the DADA classroom. He really hoped he'd return to normal soon.

"Just leave me alone! All of you!"

Harry practically sprinted from the room leaving the rest of them in his dust.

Once again, Draco was pretty sure Harry's use of "all of you" didn't include Draco, and hastened to follow. He found Harry on the stairwell and grabbed the brunette's hand as he passed, effectively dragging him down the steps, past the doors that lead to the kitchens, through the front door, and out into the warm early evening. It took Harry a moment to realize where Draco was leading him, but he eventually stopped resisting and jogged up next to Draco as they made their way to the treehouse out back. Harry climbed the rope ladder first and helped pull Draco the last of the way up. Only when they were both seated in the cozy "living area" of the treehouse did their breathing calm down enough to make any kind of noise beyond their collective panting. They both decided on hysterical laughter as their first form of communication.

"Oh man, mate," Draco sighed as his laughter finally died down and a serenity had settled over their little fort. "I missed you."

Harry chuckled. "Such a sap."

"I know! I was just thinking that a few minutes ago," Draco said, refusing to deny it. "But whatever. I sat at your bedside and watched you sleep for two weeks. I've earned a little bit of sappiness."

Harry's smile was kind while they sat in silence for a bit. Then, almost in an instant, the atmosphere sobered. Harry's smile faltered and became only a small quirk of the lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. "So… Uncle Steven…?"

"Yeah," Draco answered. "Yeah."

Harry rubbed a hand through his hair, making it fluff up in the front.

"You need a haircut," Draco acknowledged.

"I'll get right on that," Harry deadpanned.

Draco ran a hand through his own blond strands, which had him remembering a few other revelations he'd discovered while Harry was unconscious. He wanted to tell Harry everything. No time like the present, he supposed.

"Harry," Draco started, his voice a faint hush, though still audible in the quiet of the treehouse.

Harry looked up, green eyes flashing from under his eyelashes with determination. "Go ahead. Tell me everything. I want to know."

Draco nodded. "Okay. Okay," he repeated. "Uh— but first, I want to explain that what I'm about to tell you, I already kind of told you while you were in your coma. I asked you to wake up… because I needed you— I still need you to be you. And I need you to tell me what to think because I'm very worried that I'm dwelling on things that don't actually matter. Which… well, clearly I was. That was made very apparent a few minutes ago when you clearly explained to me, and everyone else, that the fact that Voldemort is still alive is far more important than what I'm about to tell you. Okay?"

Harry nodded. "Okay. I'm not sure I understand what you mean yet, but explain it to me, and I'll listen."

"Okay."


"I remember Malfoy, I think. He was the one who insulted Charlie at the World Cup."

"Yeah. The hair is kind of a dead giveaway, isn't it?"

"Hmm… Just don't grow it out, Draco. Ever."

"Fair."

Remus sat on the landing of the staircase right before it twisted left toward the east wing and right toward the west wing, straining his supernatural hearing as far as it would allow to hear the conversation in the treehouse between Harry Potter and Draco Black. He vaguely noticed Tonks settle on the step just to his left, her back against the railing, facing the wall. Remus gave a muted acknowledgement of her presence and returned to his eavesdropping.

"Is it weird? To not be related to your dad?"

"Well… technically I still am. I think we're second cousins. Like Tonks."

"That's sort of… weirder."

"Yeah I guess it is. But you're not related to Sirius. And he's still your dad. Right?"

"Always."

Remus felt his lips turn up into a smile.

"Wait— are you listening in on their conversation?"

Remus frowned as he lost focus and could no longer hear the exchange of words going on up in the treehouse. He glared over at Dora who looked utterly unrepentant. "I was," he growled. "Now I have to concentrate again."

Dora's eyes widened to an unreal extent and just as swiftly narrowed into tiny slits of indignation on behalf of her two cousins. Which— okay, yeah. That was fair. Remus stopped trying to find the thread of conversation between Draco and Harry again and glanced over at Tonks, a look of chagrin on his face. Dora's expression softened.

"Are they okay?"

Remus considered the little that he overheard. It sounded like progress as far as he was concerned, so he nodded. "I think so."

"Do they know you listen to them? That you invade their privacy sometimes?" Tonks was smiling, painting her questions as jest. However, Remus found himself wishing they weren't said in a joking manner. Tonks must have seen this wish in his expression for she frowned down at him and shook her head. "Oh I see. You want them to be mad at you."

Remus didn't even try to feign that Tonks was way off the mark. Because she wasn't. The kids were angry and upset with almost everyone except him. It seemed no one was angry with Remus at all. He should probably be happy about that. He wasn't.

Remus sighed. "I would prefer they weren't upset with anyone. But I don't see why I should be exempt from their displeasure when I did the same as Sirius and Severus."

Tonks snorted. "They weren't your secrets to tell, Remus."

"But I kept them all the same," he countered, smiling humorlessly. "I deserve the same treatment, if for no other reason than because I truly believed we were in the right by keeping the boys in the dark all these years. And I stand by that. Keeping secrets is difficult for a child. I didn't want them to ever have to do that."

"So you kept the secrets for them," Tonks stated as fact.

"Yeah," Remus said, answering the non-question anyway. He sighed. "I hope they know I stand with them."

Twin gazes flashed up the staircase to the left as if they might be able to see the "them" Remus had been referring to through the walls.

"Can you hear them," Tonks asked, tilting her head in the direction of the study where Severus and Sirius still resided.

Remus nodded. "They haven't said a word."

"Oh." Dora returned her attention to Remus and unselfconsciously smiled down at him like he hung the moon and stars. "You are a good person, Remus Lupin." A delicate hand rested on Moony's shoulder and squeezed it briefly before retracting. "Trust me. Everyone knows where you stand. And no one's upset with you because of it. And no one should be."

Remus huffed but didn't dispute Dora's claim. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists letting the silence reign over the stairwell for a long while. Finally, sighing in exhaustion, Remus smiled over at Tonks and nodded his thanks. She nodded back.

"So, are you staying for supper?"

Dora laughed, a surprisingly light little chuckle considering how loaded and frightening that simple question really was. "I wouldn't miss it. Besides I'm starving."

"It's going to be terribly awkward. Are you sure," Remus asked, his words turning playful despite the troubling circumstances. Nymphadora Tonks had that way about her that made even the most uncomfortable of situations seem like nothing to worry yourself over.

"I'm sure."

Remus nodded. "So, wait— no Bill this evening?"

"Bill went out of the country. So… no. No Bill."

This was news to Remus. "He left Britain. Where did he go?"

Tonks hummed quietly, playing with the fringe of her muggle jean shorts. Green eyes flashed up briefly to meet Remus's before returning to the incredibly fascinating task of pulling bits of loose thread from her weathered cuffs. "Bill went to go see Charlie," she finally offered as explanation.

And it was all the explanation Remus really needed. "Ah."

Sirius had hardly spoken to Charlie in the two weeks since the events with Voldemort. In fact, Remus was fairly certain the last the two spoke was when Charlie fire-called Sirius to complain about having to read about the incident at Hogwarts in the papers. Remus didn't know the full story, because Sirius had only briefly mentioned the encounter once and left it at that. Remus hadn't pressed the issue. Besides, it was kind of hard to press the issue when your friend was a furry dog for most of the time you spent together.

Remus sighed. "Are you terribly upset with your cousin?"

"Well… I can't say I'm happy with him."

"Understandable," Remus agreed. He wasn't happy with Sirius regarding this situation either. "But… he has his reasons—"

"Oh don't start," Tonks interrupted, her lips turning up at the corners as if she were simply amused by the whole scenario, though Remus knew she wasn't. "I'm sure Sirius has plenty of excuses at the ready. And… I know. I know why he's decided to shut Charlie out of his life. He thinks he puts people in danger when he's around them, that this entire situation at Hogwarts was his fault. But he's a daft old man and I will tell him that when he's feeling better. And everyone should know that I have zero intention of letting him push my best friend away. Sorry. Not happening."

Remus grinned. "Once he's feeling better," Remus repeated, "that sounds good to me."

Tonks chuckled and knocked her knees against Remus's arm. When her laughter died down, she audibly sighed in exaggeration and leaned in close. "I really am very hungry Moony. Any chance we could start that awkward dinner now?"

Remus snorted and called for Corey.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please set the table Corey. Flash, you gather the boys. I'll get Harry and Draco."

Tonks's laughter echoed off the ceiling as she jogged up the stairs to fetch Sirius and Severus. Remus glanced down at Corey who nodded once and popped away.


When Tonks called Sirius and Severus to dinner, the two men made their way down to the dining room sluggishly. It was a cautionary measure to try to arrive with as little time as possible in which they would have to stare at the two empty chairs where their boys usually sat. Sev was positive Remus would eventually coax Harry and Draco from the treehouse. But it could take him awhile.

Half an hour later, everyone sat around the table picking at their plates of chicken and rice in extremely awkward silence, no one really making eye contact with each other. Corey had to excuse himself ten minutes earlier due to his overwhelming anxiety. House elves were nervous creatures by nature. This situation wasn't really helping any.

Severus felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilation, of drowning on nothing but air. His friend beside him wasn't fairing much better. In fact, Snape thought Sirius actually might be doing worse. Harry's words had done a number on the two of them.

But there Harry was, sitting across from him, like every Summer holiday. Sev glanced up from his plate to catch a glimpse of squinty green eyes focused on his food in contemplation. He should have been ecstatic the boy had moved on from his anger, but all Snape could think about were the terrible things Harry might be considering in his solitary introspection.

What if Harry decides to never forgive us?

No, Severus, stop that. You're the adult. He's a child. He doesn't know what's best.

And you do, he asked himself.

No. I don't. Voldemort is back. He's back.

He's always been back, though, Snape reminded himself. He's always just… been. Like a cockroach that just won't die. A cancerous tumor that you tried to extract from your brain, but a little piece just keeps remaining no matter how many times you slice it away. And now it will spread. It will spread to your loved ones. You want to keep them safe from even that tiny little spark of pain the tumor sends down your spine every once and a while when you remember it's existence. It spread to Narcissa and she killed herself because of it. It spread to Lily and James and they died from it. It spread to Sirius and Remus and they've been fighting it back just like you. But now… now it's spreading again. First Tonks. Then Charlie, Bill, Rosie, Frank, Alice, Grayson, Naomi…

And soon it will latch onto Draco and Harry—

Soon? It already has, Severus. It already has. And don't kid yourself. It latched onto Harry a long time ago. He's just finally showing symptoms.

"Professor, are you alright?"

Snape blinked, watched as the motion let a single tear slip into the cold rice left on his plate, before glancing up to his right to meet Tonks's worried gaze.

"I'm fine, Flash."

Tonks raised a perfect brown eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because you look like you might puke any second."

Snape hadn't realized just how queasy he felt until Tonks mentioned it. He was a little dizzy as well, his eyes were on fire, and his head thrummed something awful. Gods, he must look a mess.

"Yes, well…" Snape tried to think of something to say, searched for a reason for his current state of being, besides the obvious. "I might have… missed you all." That could work. It certainly wasn't a lie. He'd missed them all in a way that bordered on essential to his own continued survival. "It's been a long time since I've had to cut myself out of my family's lives for a bit, and even then, I still had Remus for company."

Moony graced him with a small smile in acknowledgement to the truly hellish week the two of them shared ten years ago when Snape had to remove Sirius's memories of him. Severus glanced over to his left where Sirius was nodding in understanding but staring down at the polished finish of the oak dining table as if it held his memories like a pensieve rather than reflected the man's own blurry face.

Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably. Now that the silence had been broken, he didn't really want to return to it. And if he was the one who had to speak up, he supposed he could deal with that.

"The papers only gave me information on Harry, and it's not as if that settled my nerves any considering they only mentioned that he was still in a coma. I had no information on anyone else. Is—" Snape was about to ask if everyone was okay, meaning Bill and Charlie and Rosmerta and everyone else not currently in the room, but, well… "Oh Jesus Christ, is Rosmerta going to be upset with me? Is she alright? I feel like an idiot; I should have at least sent her an owl, although… no. The wizarding world knows she's in a relationship with Steven Prince. It would look strange to have her receive correspondence from me especially since I was being watched. No, no. She might still be upset with me, though. Merlin, she's going to be upset, isn't she—"

Snape's longwinded rant was cut off by Remus's deep chuckle and now everyone was looking up from their plates, eyes flickering back and forth between Remus and Severus with hints of amusement in their eyes. Remus's eyes were warm when his laughter died down and his attention focused on Snape.

"What? I'm worried, alright," Snape admitted, rolling his eyes at Remus's shit-eating grin. This was the girl of his dreams he was talking about here. Severus was allowed to be a little worried he'd fucked things up.

"Rosie's fine, Sev," Remus announced simply. "I explained why you couldn't contact her, but I never really needed to. She understood. She's actually been at the Greengrass's most days helping Naomi with her research."

Sev couldn't help but blanch at this new piece of information. "She's willingly stepped foot into a house where Grayson Greengrass resides? On her own? That's— Is it strange that I'm even more worried about her than I was before?"

"Those two women make a frighteningly good team, actually," Tonks piped in around a mouthful of magically reheated rice. "Bill and I read Naomi's Quibbler articles. They were well-researched."

Snape nodded. He'd thought so as well. They actually made that trashy newspaper sound like a reliable news source for once. Naomi was probably receiving a lot of flack for that by the general populous. If the information sounded real, it meant it probably was. And those articles were terrifying. Snape didn't want them to be real even though he knew for a fact that they were.

Stop thinking about it!

Snape snapped out of his thoughts and returned his attention to the surprisingly less-tense atmosphere that had settled over the six of them. Although Sirius and the boys hadn't made a peep since supper started, at least they were eating their meals with a renewed vigor. That was good.

"So, how is Bill," Snape asked as he, too, began picking out the pieces of chicken and popping them into his mouth. His stomach still churned tumultuously every few seconds, but he forced himself to act normally.

"He's fine," Tonks answered, and if it came out a little terse, Snape paid it no mind.

Severus turned his attention to Sirius. "And Charlie? How's he doing, Sirius?"

"Yes," Tonks chirped, pouncing on Snape's question with dangerous enthusiasm. Snape practically flinched and he noticed Harry and Draco do the same across from him. Clearly the three of them were out of the loop regarding something significant, for Remus looked like he'd seen Tonks's interjection coming a mile off. And he didn't look thrilled with her. "How is Charlie, Sirius?"

"Dora." Remus's warning was practically a growl and he glared at her from across the table.

Tonks huffed.

Snape tilted his head to the left and watched Sirius for a moment. The man was a statue, his eyes once again fixed on his glowing reflection in the polished wood finish. His fingers twitched around his fork from time to time. It was an unsettling sight.

"What happened to Charlie," Draco asked. "Is he hurt?"

"Oh, he's hurt," Tonks confirmed, pointedly flickering her gaze to Sirius's hunched over figure.

"Dora!"

Tonks paled significantly as her attention was pulled toward a glowering Remus. Whoever claimed a werewolf's bite was worse than their bark, had clearly never met Remus Lupin. The man barked so very, very rarely, but it stopped you dead in your tracks every time.

Remus had his eyes firmly place on Tonks and they were cold, yet pleading.

Tonks let out a calculating breath, the type Severus had seen Sirius use on numerous occasions to calm himself down. It was an old trick of Alastor's Sirius had learned from his time as a Hit Wizard. Apparently Moody still taught that to his recruits.

"Sorry," Tonks finally voiced, the single word clear and authentic. "I'm sorry," she repeated, this time to Sirius directly.

Sirius didn't acknowledge the apology. In fact, the man seemed lost in his own head, his fingers rubbing his temples like he had the worst migraine in the world.

"Someone please tell me that Charlie isn't hulled up in hospital with a singed off limb," Draco demanded.

Remus reached over and ran his fingers lightly through his nephew's blond hair. "No. Tonks meant he was hurt emotionally. Not physically."

And… Oh. Snape let his eyelids close over his pupils to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes with overwhelming affection and exasperation for his dearest and oldest friend. Sirius was pushing Charlie away. Severus found it absolutely adorable that the man thought he would get away with it. Charlie Weasley was family now. It was too late.

But then Snape actually looked at his friend, a devastated, broken wizard who seemed just short of pulling out his own hair, and realized that maybe Sirius had no intention of keeping Charlie away for long. Just long enough for Sirius to regain some semblance order back to himself and his family. For a boy who played a lot of pranks during his school days, Sirius Black surprisingly despised chaos with a passion. He hated when things in his life became convoluted and messy, when he couldn't keep track of everything. It's why he didn't really enjoy potions and runes all that much, preferring charms and transfiguration instead. Sirius could see the simplicity in spell-work and he longed for that kind of simplicity in every aspect of his life.

But a cancer known as Voldemort made everything terrifyingly difficult.

"Uncle Steven."

In the blink of an eye, Tonks stopped pouting, Remus stopped comforting, Draco stopped fretting, Sirius stopped sulking, and Severus… stopped. He just stopped. And they all looked up at Harry.

Severus swallowed, trying to force spit past his tongue so it could coat his suddenly dry throat, and managed to ask, "Yeah, kiddo?"

Emerald eyes flashed behind circular glasses. Sev wasn't sure if that was a good flash or one that spelled certain doom for all involved. There was a long stretch of silence, and then, just like that, Harry was asking a question.

"Do you need to use the toilet?"

Sirius snickered behind his palm because he was immature like that. It was the most glorious noise Severus had ever heard.

"I don't thinks so," Snape answered, his lips turned up into a hesitant half-grin. "Why do you ask, Harry?"

"You just—" Harry shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that didn't quite convey what Harry had probably been hoping for. "You looked like you were going to puke again."

Severus ran a shaky hard through his black hair and tried his best to hide the sudden lump in his throat. "Did I?"

"Still do actually," Harry admitted, his gaze critical in it's level of scrutiny but sincere in it's guilelessness.

No one dared interrupt the silence that followed, for Harry was talking and it wasn't laced with anger or worry or anything like that. He seemed, more than anything, curious about something. The five others simply waited for another question to spill from the young wizard's mouth.

"What are you thinking about, Steven," Harry voiced finally. "When you look like your about to puke, what is it that's on your mind?"

Severus's gaze danced around the room, meeting everyone else's and no one else's. Finally it settled on the wide silver eyes of Draco Sirius Black. The blonde smiled slightly at his godfather and raised a hand to tap the Slytherin crest on the sweater vest he still wore. It seemed so long ago now, but it had only been just that morning that Snape had watched his house win the House Cup.

My, my, my, how agonizingly slow life can be when events have thrown you off the course you set out for yourself, right Severus?

Snape zeroed in on that long, pale finger and realized in an instant what Draco was trying to tell him.

Are you suggesting I not draw out the inevitable and just get it over with like a bloody Gryffindor?

I think Harry would appreciate it.

Sev leaned back in his chair and ran another hand through his hair. After a few seconds of hesitation, Snape finally gave in, heaving a long sigh. "I think about Voldemort, Harry," he finally managed. "I think about how he's like a parasite, like a virus. He's loveless and horrible and I wish every single day that he never existed. And to think that he was in my school, to think that he walked the same hallways, sat a few seats away from me at supper, was alone in a classroom with a bunch of children, my children, every single day for a year—" Snape rubbed at his face quickly to staunch the inevitable sob and continued. "I mean, the Druid said he was close, but I thought Hogsmeade close, not sleeping-in-chambers-just-down-the-hall close. And all that time I spent in town on Hogsmeade trips keeping an eye on all the upperclassmen and he wasn't even there. No, of course not. I left him alone to plot his revenge on a boy who did nothing except be born during the wrong month—"

"Severus." Once again, Remus gave his warning in a growl of a first name.

Snape understood the warning. He knew. Nobody had gotten to the prophecy portion of their spill-all confessions. Most likely, Remus and Sirius never wanted to tell Harry about the prophecy, let alone Tonks and Draco.

But Snape also knew it was important. The prophecy was integral in some way. He just knew it.

"What do you mean, the Druid?"

For the first sentence Sirius Black had uttered all evening, Severus couldn't help but give the man a figurative gold star for making it a good one. It tilted Snape so far off balance that he almost fell out of his chair. He pushed himself back from the table, feeling confined being stuck between the chair and the table, staggered to his feet, and began pacing the length of the dining room, his steps slightly off-kilter. Sirius had twisted around in his seat, and five pairs of eyes watched Snape in bewilderment.

Severus ran a hand through his hair again and had the inane thought that he should really stop doing that since it would make his hair all greasy. After that foolish bit of vanity, his mind was flooded with thought after nonsensical thought. It felt like hours but could only have been a few dozen seconds when Snape stopped pacing, took a nice, long look at himself in the mirror in front of him, and sighed in defeat. He twisted around to face the others, stepped up to Sirius, grabbed his face, and gave the man a quick brush of lips to the top of his head.

"What was that for," Sirius asked when Sev pulled away, his voice faint and wondrous.

"It gave me comfort," Severus admitted with a shrug. "And after what I'm about to tell you, I think you'll be too angry to let me ever do it again."

Remus baulked from behind Sirius, but Sirius himself looked more like Snape had just broken his heart, like a wounded animal with a shotgun aimed at his head. Severus's father used to shoot the deer he had just run over without remorse or an ounce of hesitation. Snape really wished he hadn't just reminded himself of his father, because that suddenly made this a thousand times harder.

"Harry, Draco," Severus began, his gaze never veering from Sirius's own. "A few months ago, your father, your uncle Remus, and Tonks went to Romania to talk to a Druid. This Druid helps a group of werewolves who live in the forests. He's also the one who made those orbs Charlie gave us all for Christmas. Anyway, when the three of them managed to meet with the Druid, the Druid was less than helpful—"

"To say the least," Sirius muttered.

Trying his best to ignore his fidgeting best friend, Snape continued. "His answers were cryptic; they never made any sense. And the next moment the three of them were forcibly removed from the Druid's hut and couldn't seek an audience with the man again." Severus took a stuttering breath. He'd never let himself be so plainly open in his life, but for the moment, his Godson was right. A Gryffindor way of unburdening one's self was the only solution. He had to be direct. "Sirius gave me the memory of this meeting to see if I could make heads or tails of it. At first, I was just as frustrated as they were. I almost gave up. I wish I had. Because, on my last attempt, I walked over to a window, thought the view beautiful, and the Druid asked, 'Beautiful, isn't it?'

Remus and Tonks didn't exactly gasp, but they inhaled slightly as if they still didn't quite understand or believe what he was telling them. Draco and Harry were listening with rapt attention. And Sirius stopped fidgeting, his expression brightening like a light bulb had gone off. Snape found that reaction the most curious.

"It took me much persuasion, but eventually the Druid had convinced me that he was indeed talking to me in Sirius's memory. I asked him where Voldemort was. He said, 'Close.'"

Sirius mouthed the word with him, nodding his head like he'd finally figured something out and it was both glorious and awful.

"I asked him if Hogwarts was safe. He said, 'No. It has been infiltrated by the enemy.'"

Sirius beamed.

"I asked him if we would succeed." He said, 'If you—'"

"—let the stars guide you," Sirius finished for him, chuckling without an ounce of humor in the laughter, but chuckling none the less.

"Yeah," Snape confirmed.

"What the bloody hell does that mean," Tonks asked.

"And why didn't you tell us all this before," Remus added, looking extremely peeved.

As if of the same mind, Sirius and Severus turned their attention in tandem on Harry.

"Because… 'She said more after you left,'" Sirius quoted, his silver eyes going watery. "Oh Severus."

Somewhere along the way, the injured little deer that was Sirius Black had been healed and somehow obtained a shotgun of his own. Severus had unwittingly taught him how to use it by his little speech. And now the two of them had their focus on a brave little fawn who they were beginning to understand would have to be reluctantly trained as well.

Snape had the sudden urge to laugh when he imagined the look on Sirius's face if Snape had tried to explain that convoluted muggle metaphor to him. It was a humorous image.

"I never listened to the end of the prophecy," Severus said instead.

Sirius nodded and over the man's shoulder, Severus could see Remus starting to get it, his eyes growing more and more haunted by the second.

"Why are we taking heed in divination? I assumed none of us believed in such rot," Tonks asked, clearly annoyed she was out of the loop, but not enough to keep her thoughts to herself.

"It's the only way we'll win, Flash," Remus reminded her, his tone laced with dread. Severus could relate.

"Destiny. I loathe destiny," Snape mused aloud, remembering the similar sentiments he made a couple months ago.

"So…" Four pairs of eyes flashed over to Draco whose white-blond eyebrows practically disappeared behind his fringe. "Apparently there's a prophesy? That's… cool. One thing I don't get though. What exactly does this have to do with Harry?"


"Okay, Harry, let me see if I have this correct… Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort— has been possessed by him this whole year, hiding the evidence under a turban? Hogwarts was housing the Sorcerer's Stone underneath it's grounds, protected by multiple safeguards including a cerberus? The stone was ultimately concealed inside the Mirror of Erised and Voldemort assumed Dumbledore had made you into some kind of key, so Quirrell made arrangements to have you kidnapped? And Voldemort's assumption was correct as you were able to get the stone out of the mirror when neither he, nor Quirrell, could? They saw that you had retrieved the stone and tried to take it by force, but you were protected by a spell your mother placed on you as a baby— the same one that saved you from Voldemort's killing curse and left you with only a scar? This spell drained a lot of your magic, making it so you were in a coma for a fortnight, but right before you passed out, you saw Professor Snape try to come to your rescue? And Severus Snape is actually my friend of over a decade, Steven Prince, who has had to swallow far too much polyjuice potion in his lifetime than I am frankly comfortable with, in order to protect his friends and family from the eventuality of Voldemort's return, because he can't be seen having any sort of attachments and still retain his role as the Dark Lord's most trusted follower?"

Frank Longbottom paused for a short moment. He glanced around his sitting room, making eye contact with each and every person gathered before him. Sirius, then Remus, stopping on Steven for a second longer than everyone else, then his wife, before returning his attention to Harry.

"Somehow, I am to make a statement to the public out of what you have just told me without giving away anything that might endanger you and Severus… and anyone really, including me and my family? I have to make the information involving Voldemort believable, because surely most of the wizarding world will not trust the word of an eleven-year-old who just woke up from a coma… and isn't that just bloody frustrating?! And let's be honest, I really don't want to believe this story either, because it's Gods damn awful and bloody terrifying, so I'm constantly having to remind myself that I'm not currently asleep and trapped in a terrible nightmare!"

Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation before he finally, after a very extensive debriefing that he executed entirely in a standing position, collapsed into the sofa behind him next to Aunt Alice. He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand and stared despondently at the door that lead to the hallway. "Tell me," he asked the room at large, waving his free hand lazily about, "am I missing anything?"

Harry shot a look over at Sirius, who nodded his head in answer to Harry's unasked question. Harry turned back to Frank. "Sirius made arrangements to hear the whole prophecy regarding Voldemort and I. We're going to the Department of Mysteries after this meeting. We— uh…" Harry felt his words falter when the Longbottoms' gazes flashed over to Harry's lightning quick, almost as if they'd been electrocuted. There was a long moment of silence, but Harry had never been one for backing down from what needed to be said. He took a deep breath and forged on. "Well, we're fairly certain this prophecy is about me, but there's a chance it could be about Neville."

Frank's face paled even more than it already had during the first part of their conversation. Harry was unsurprised. Frank's skin color had finally reached the same level of ghostly white that Sirius, Remus, and Steven had been sporting recently.

Alice simply gaped in disbelief.

Frank's eyes drifted over to Sirius, his exhaustion evident. "This prophesy, is it the same one you told us about… almost a dozen years ago?"

Sirius nodded his head in answer.

Frank inclined his head in acknowledgement. "And you're saying Neville should be there."

"Frank, I would never tell you how to handle this situation with your own child," Sirius assured him.

Uncle Frank's attention focused on Harry for a brief second before returning to Sirius. "I appreciate that, lad. But now I'm asking, alright? What do you think we should do? If you were me, what would you do?"

Harry couldn't say he way necessarily surprised by his uncle's question. Asking advice of Lord Sirius Black was sometimes as easy as breathing air, no matter how strange it might seem from the outside looking in. Still Harry couldn't help but widen his eyes in shock at just how quickly Frank had accepted everything Harry told him mere moments ago. To continue trusting Sirius after lying for so long about Steven's true identity… that seemed too good to be true. But then again, Harry had been quick to forgive as well.

Harry's godfather was a hard person to stay mad at. Harry only had so much anger inside him, and right now, every ounce of it was focused on Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and the cursed artifacts with pieces of Voldemort's soul forced inside them still hidden somewhere in their world. It was a waste to spend all of that energy hating Sirius and Steven when there was someone worthy of that rage sill out there. Besides…

Harry tilted his head over to the three men sitting on his left and smiled.

Besides, he loved them too much.

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he considered Frank's question. Finally he faced the couple sitting across from him and grimaced. "Truth is, I've had some pretty terrible weeks in my lifetime. But last week… last week took the cake. And there were things I could have done to save myself the heartache. I could have figured out another lie. I could have erased their memories. I could have foisted off my confessions to someone else so I wouldn't have to be the one to see their faces. I just wanted my boys to be little forever, you know? I wanted them to stay innocent. But the universe doesn't want them to be little and innocent. And Draco and Harry don't want to stay little and innocent either. I can understand that. So… I didn't do any of those things I mentioned earlier. Instead, I told them everything. Snape and Voldemort and the Order and horcruxes and the prophecy. And then I waited and hoped… I hoped that they'd understand why I never explained all this before and why I never wanted to."

Harry nodded his head, answering the question Sirius had been too afraid to ask outright. Harry answered for himself and for his brother in the next room eating lunch with Neville and Tonks. The two siblings had spent a lot of time in the treehouse these last three days discussing everything they'd learned, and while there were parts that still bothered them, they had reached a conclusion that put the two of them on the same page. And that page was basically: Voldemort wasn't tearing this family apart no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe that made Harry and Draco naive. So be it.

Everyone's gaze shifted at the motion of Harry's bobbing head and that seemed to calm everyone in the room down, like they had all been holding there breaths, readying themselves for the inevitable blow, and Harry had pulled them into a hug instead.

Sirius's lips quirked up unconsciously as he returned his attention to the Longbottoms. "So you want to know what I would do if I were you? Our situations aren't so different, so basically, I just told you. Sev, Remus, and I… we were your test subjects here. I won't tell you what to do, but I will say that I think you should do what you think is right with the information you've been given."

And with that, Sirius concluded his advice by collapsing back into the sofa in the Longbottom's living room. He reached out blindly for Harry and tried to coax him into a cuddle. Harry didn't need much coaxing and went willingly into the embrace, folding himself against Sirius's side and pushing his face into the man's chest. Sirius smelled like home.

After a while, the Longbottom's having left to discuss their options in private, Remus and Steven vacated the antique chairs they'd been uncomfortably sitting in all morning and settled together on the sofa Alice and Frank had just vacated. Harry smiled over at them as Sirius carded a hand through his hair.

"You need a haircut, kid." Sirius groaned, reaching up to tuck wayward strands down to stop them from tickling his chin

"I've heard," Harry grumbled, making no motion to alleviate his godfather from his torture. "I kind of like it long though."

"Me too," Steven murmured hesitantly, his voice almost too soft to make out the words as if he weren't sure he had permission to speak.

Remus's responding snort was anything but quiet and any tension that was left in the room vanished in an instant. "That's just because he reminds you too much of a first-year-James when his hair's short, Sev."

Severus (and Harry was just starting to get used to calling him that in his head, even though the man had asked both him and Draco to continue calling him Steven when he was in his polyjuiced form and Snape when he wasn't, so that they didn't make a mistake by calling him the wrong name in public in the future) heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I just don't understand why he couldn't look a little bit more like Lily. Besides the eyes, Harry, you're a spitting image of James and that's just unfair."

"Unfair to whom," Sirius asked, his voice tinged with humor from what Harry assumed was a long-standing argument between the three of them. Harry hid his smile in Sirius's dark blue dress shirt.

"Me," Steven answered succinctly. "No offense, kiddo, but your father was my greatest tormenter at Hogwarts."

Harry already knew this. Sirius had explained long ago how James Potter wasn't the kindest of kids in school, especially to a boy named Severus Snape. Harry feigned offense to the accusation anyway, just to keep the banter going. Remus didn't disappoint.

"I don't know," Remus mused, tapping his chin in a derisive manner. "I can think of someone who gave James a run for his money."

Sirius gasped in mock offense at the insinuation. "Who could you possibly be referring to, Moony? Surely not little ol' me?"

Remus snorted and turned to Snape. "Trust me, James might have waxed poetic about how much he despised you, Sev, but Sirius was the one who planned all the pranks to, and I quote, 'Get back at you for being a git'."

"I never said such a thing. Don't you dare believe him Sevie, dear. Remus may have that innocent charm, but don't be fooled. He lies, I tell you. Lies!"

The next moment, the doors to the den rushed open and Harry lifted his head up just in time to make out the bright blond blur before it was barreling into his side, squashing Harry even further into Sirius's chest. The two bothers had hardly been apart these last three days, not even for sleep. Draco was really clingy when he wanted to be. Harry didn't really mind though.

Tonks slunk in when Harry wasn't paying attention and flung herself across the legs of Remus and Steven who glared at her in return. She twisted her head toward Sirius and said with all the decorum of a slobbering dog, "Frank and Alice invited us for dinner. Any idea why?"

Sirius's eyes flashed to the doorway just as the Longbottoms stepped into frame. Frank and Alice were smiling nervously while Neville glanced between all of them, his light brown eyes full of confusion and worry.

Sirius squeezed Harry lightly before extracting himself and making his way over to the elder Longbottoms, huddling in close as they had a hushed conversation in the corner of the room. Neville jogged over to the sofa, seeing the vacant spot Sirius's absence created. Neville and Harry had embraced briefly that morning before having to depart so Harry could give his auror statement. But now the boy leaned in as close as possible, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder, instantly breathing easier with the proximity.

Honestly, Harry felt truly humbled with how much everyone seemed to worry and miss him while he was in his coma. He'd spent nearly all of Sunday morning in the treehouse with Draco reading his get-well wishes and the extremely long letters from each of the members of their little study group that the blond had brought home from when attended the last day of school.

Propriety dictated he should start writing those thank you notes soon. Maybe tomorrow.

Nobody spoke while Sirius, Frank, and Alice conversed, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. Harry basked in it, his brother on his right and his best friend on his left. It was nice.

Sirius hobbled over a few minutes later and clapped his hands together. "Alright, time to go," he announced.

Neville clung to Harry's arm, and Sirius must have noticed the action. "Don't worry Nev, we'll be back for supper. We just have a prior engagement we must attend. Your parents will tell you all about it."

Harry and Draco glanced up at Sirius at the same time to marvel privately at this announcement. The blond flicked his gaze over to Harry with a raised eyebrow, but quickly schooled his face into one of comprehension. Draco understood the situation quickly. He was a smart boy.

Nev had loosened his grip on Harry's arm and if possible, looked even more confused than before. But eventually, he leaned over gave Harry and Draco one last group hug and joined his parents.

Tonks darted to her feet in a feat that, frankly, defied gravity, and beamed. "So we're off to the ministry then?"

Sirius pulled out his pocket watch. "Half one. No time like the present."

A nervous energy settled over the group as the Longbottoms showed the six of them to their drawing room's fireplace. Sirius sucked in an exaggerated breath as they approached the floo and nine pairs of eyes looked over at him, deciding to follow his lead. He bounced around on the balls of his feet for a few seconds before he realized how much attention he was garnering.

"What?" He asked the question to the room at large. "It's de-stressing. You should try it." Sirius flung his arms wildly as if to exaggerate his point.

Surprisingly, Steven was the first to try it. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up his tense muscles, and it didn't take long for Remus, Tonks, Draco, and Harry to join him.

Harry hadn't realized Sirius had stopped flailing and started watching them all with an amused grin until the man started chuckling lightly. "Merlin, you all look ridiculous." As the five of them stopped bouncing around, Sirius turned to the three Longbottoms and shook his head with mock shame. "I apologize for my family. They can be quite embarrassing." He then jogged past them all with a wave of his hand, tossed some floo powder into the roaring fire, and called out the Ministry of Magic as he stepped through the flames.

"Sometimes I just want to wring his neck," Tonks growled as she hastened to follow her cousin.

Remus grabbed Draco's shoulder and simply shook his head in exasperation as he guided them both through the flames. This left only Harry and his uncle Steven in the drawing room with the Longbottoms. The other family might as well not have been there for how invisible they were in that moment.

Snape looked over at Harry with a small, nervous smile. Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled widely up at his uncle. "I actually don't mind when Sirius acts like a git. He reminds me of Draco. Besides, it worked."

"Yes, I'm far less tense than I was a moment ago," Severus agreed, his grin widening to match Harry's. He took a step as if he were about to follow the others, but halted abruptly. Twisting his whole body toward Harry, Snape hunched down slightly so that their eyesights were at an even height, and clapped a steadying hand on the younger wizard's shoulder. "Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry couldn't imagine what his life would have been like if he didn't have his family. A family that was completely unique and brilliant and wholly his own. He tried to picture a world without them, what it would have been like to face Voldemort six storied beneath the school, to make it out of there by the skin of his teeth, to be in a coma for two week, only to wake up… and not have Sirius and Remus and Draco and Steven and Tonks fussing over him. It didn't bare contemplation. He didn't want to comprehend a universe such as that. And he wished with all his heart that he would never have to do so.

"Yes, professor. I'm ready."


Sirius had gone through some tough days, some hard weeks, some terrible months, and a few awful years. None of those compared to today, this week, this month, and this year.

When they say you'll worry for your children more than anyone else in the entire world, they were bloody underselling just how truly, agonizingly, soul-shatteringly scared you'll be every second of every day or every week of every month of every year after they took their very first breath.

And when Sirius followed his Godson delicately through the hall of prophecy, as the six of them (plus the Hall's keeper, am old crone that watched them like a griffin) went aisle by aisle trying to locate the one glowing orb in the giant room that would call out Harry's name, Sirius still idiotically hoped Harry Potter wasn't the chosen one in the Dark Lord's prophecy. He hoped they'd leave this room empty-handed and return to the Longbottoms that night for an awkward dinner full of sad news.

But, of course, that's not what happened.

An hour into their search, Harry stopped. Sirius watched, enraptured, as his son turned toward an orb on the shelf that was just at Harry's eye level. It was as if the prophecy keeper had placed it in that spot with an eleven-year-old boy's presence in mind. That thought chilled Sirius to the bone.

Harry reached for it and Sirius twisted toward the the crone of woman on instinct, as if he were actually going to plead, to shout, "Stop him! Tell my son not to pick up a prophecy that's not his! He'll go mad from it!"

But she didn't make a move, and Sirius, as he slowly turned back around, had to resign himself to the fact that Harry was picking up a prophesy that only he could hear because it was about him. Tonks slipped her hand into his and Draco took the other. Behind him, Severus placed a thin hand on his shoulder and Remus rubbed his neck. The wait felt endless.

Finally, Harry blinked out of his trance and stared down at the blackened orb. A single tear fell down his cheek as the boy turned toward the keeper and placed the orb in her waiting hands. She actually managed to look sympathetic for a moment and surprisingly stepped away to give the family their privacy.

Harry's shoulders drooped and he still had his back turned to the strange creature the five of them made as they huddled together in silence.

"Harry," Draco called, after the quiet became too much. "You okay?"

Harry nodded slowly and wiped at his eyes before he finally turned around to face them.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," Harry said in a haunting voice, and all them realized in unison that he was quoting the prophesy he just heard. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives—" Harry choked on the last bit, but it was clear that was the end of the prophecy.

"Oh my gods," Tonks gasped, hiding her face in her own shoulder as she sobbed quietly. She looked like she wanted apologize for her outburst, but couldn't get her mouth to work properly. Tonks had been their rock these last few days once she learned of the prophecy about her baby cousin. Apparently it hadn't been quite real enough for her, it hadn't truly sunken in what a destiny like this meant, until Harry had uttered it aloud.

Sirius squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture, but it also reminded him that he could move, that he could breathe, and he sucked in air so fast, he choked on it. He spluttered into an embarrassing coughing fit that had him doubling over. Surprisingly, Harry was the one to pat him on the back and console him out of it.

When Sirius recovered enough to stand up properly, he stared down into bright, courageous emerald eyes. They stared back at him, unflinching.

"What am I going to do, Dad?"

Sirius disentangled himself from the Sirius-Remus-Severus-Draco-Tonks beast and scooped up Harry Potter like he weighed far less than six stone. Sirius gathered his son as close as he possibly could be without them physically morphing into one singular being.

What was Harry going to do? Apparently, he was meant to murder Voldemort or die trying. Both options were too ghastly to even comprehend at the moment, but Sirius at least knew that option number two would only happen over his dead body. Over Remus's dead body, too. And over Severus's dead body. Over Tonks's. Over everyone's. Voldemort would have to murder each and every person who loved Harry Potter before he could even touch the boy. Tom Riddle had gotten close before, on October 31, 1982, and even then, Lily's ghost kept her son our of his hands.

Sirius knew Harry Potter would have to be trained. Not just in defense, but in offense. However, there was no way Sirius would train an eleven-year-old boy to murder someone. No. Way.

So… he supposed they would focus strictly on defense for the time being.

Sirius hadn't known Harry was squeezing him back just as tightly, until he tried to pull away. Sirius almost lost his balance, but was steadied from behind by Severus. He settled Harry gently back down on the marble floor. Draco practically barreled into them when he saw an opening, and Sirius lifted his arm to let his son sneak underneath it.

An arm around each of his sons, he nodded his head with sudden conviction. He had a plan. It might not be a permanent one, but his heart could only take so much.

"What you're going to do— what both of you are going to do," Sirius stated, inclining his head toward Draco to make sure he was listening, "is learn occlumency."

Severus hummed his agreement behind them. Remus had lead Tonks away with a comforting arm around her shoulder while she sobbed some time ago, but Sirius was sure the two of them would agree with his statement as well. Even if they didn't have very important secrets to protect, Sirius never wanted Draco to feel that kind of assault on his mind again. Protecting his children would always be job number one.

Sometimes Sirius thought legilimency should be made into an unforgivable. Although, that wouldn't really dissuade those who'd mastered the art from performing the invasive spell, just as it didn't stop them from using the cruciatus curse if they so wanted.

After this statement regarding occlumency, Sirius watched the boys for their reaction. Draco practically sagged with relief at the news. And Harry…

Harry straightened his shoulders and stood tall, looking every bit the vanquisher promised in the prophesy.

Sirius blindly beckoned Severus over with a wave of his hand and once his friend stepped into their circle, the four of them stood together in the hall of prophesy, resolute with their collective burden in life. And it was with that understanding that they took one final shared breath and turned to leave the blue-orbed hell once and for all.


The End.


A/N- …Just kidding. :) There will be a short epilogue posted next week to officially wrap up part 1 and set up for part 2. So look forward to that.

But in all seriousness, Draco Sirius Black: Book 1 is basically complete! Yay? Boo? Maybe a little bit of both? Either way, this has been amazing you guys. I know I say this in almost every Author's Note, but thank you. To each and every one of you who have made writing DSB way more fun than I ever thought possible, thank you. This fic was never supposed to be this long or this intricate or this crazy, so thank you, thank you, thank you for being such amazing readers. You've made it so I have to keep writing, have to keep living in this strange alternate timeline I created for as long as you let me. So thank you.

Keep a lookout for the epilogue next week. The title is "Replace Draco".