Preface

Another HP Cliche (but with drama and stuff)Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/25635535.

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Category:

F/M, M/M

Fandom:

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationship:

Harry Potter/Fred Weasley/George Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lots more - Relationship

Character:

Harry Potter, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Goblins (Harry Potter), Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, everyone

Additional Tags:

Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abused Harry, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Drama, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, incest because they're gross and evil, Panic Attacks, magical flares, Soulmates, Soul Bond, Powerful Harry, powerful weasley twins, Light is bad, Dark is good, Triads, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Harry is a Little Shit, lots of sass, Severitus Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Hermione Granger Bashing, Weasley Bashing, not all of them!, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Teenage Pregnancy, potion induced pregnancy, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, harry is an honorary goblin, goblins are freakin awesome... and still scary, Mpreg, dobby is a little sass-master

Stats:

Published: 2020-07-31 Updated: 2021-01-22 Chapters: 32/? Words: 126383

Another HP Cliche (but with drama and stuff)

by JennaS_26

Summary

In a world of magic, nothing is as it seems for Harry James Potter. During yet another pain filled summer, everything that he thought he knew will change. Betrayal of old friends, lies from beloved allies, forming friendships with enemies, and soulmates. Follow along in this Order of the Phoenix AU.
Revenge heavy. Kind of cliche'd. Don't like it, don't read it.

Notes

I don't own anything. I just like playing with people in an already created world, that has no consequences for me. All credit for the characters goes to the rich blonde and anyone she sees fit. Don't sue me, I'm poor.

1

"Go on, girl." A dark haired boy with emerald green eyes whispered weakly to a beautiful white owl. "You were always the smart one of the pair of us. Get back to school and you'll be looked after." He didn't really like having to bring her along on the train ride, but there would be too many questions as to why he left his beloved pet somewhere for the summer.

The owl hooted softly at him, her feathers ruffling in what appeared to be annoyance.

As much as he hated to do it, Harry couldn't keep her there. It wasn't safe for either of them, but out of them, she was the only one with means of escape.
With unshed tears glassing his eyes, he carefully maneuvered Hedwig through the kitchen window, painfully aware of how much more difficult it was with only one hand being functional. It was a tight fit, and she made her displeasure well known by snapping her beak on his shaky hands every time she could reach.

At her second hoot, there was a split second of silence before thundering footsteps could be heard barreling toward them. A frantically whispered apology and she was shoved the rest of the way through. Upon the sudden change, she tumbled out the window, but managed to regain herself before she hit the ground and took off into the night sky.

Just as Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he was spun around and slammed into the wall with enough force to knock an ornate wall clock off its hook. A sharp corner connected with the side of his face and fell to the floor with a crash as the eruption of pain blinded him.

"Keep that goddamned bird out of my house!"

It was all he could do to remain upright, attempting to keep the dizziness and nausea from taking over.

Oh shit. This was not going to end well. Harry knew the clock was expensive, not because he was knowledgeable about antiques, but because he'd heard his Aunt Petunia bragging about it to her vile friends for years. "Well, of course I wasn't going to let the broker try to swindle me! He wanted thirteen hundred pounds for it!" She would say, as her friends nodded vehemently as though she were being victimized. "Just because he could tell that we could afford it, doesn't mean he should try to take advantage!" She would go on to mention how she was able to talk the man down by more than a hundred pounds. Petunia loved that damned clock.

And now it was broken.

Vernon shifted his grip to the boy's throat. He leaned in close, ignoring the small hands desperately trying to pull him free, and dropped his voice low. "You're going to clean this up," he said in an eerily calm tone.

Harry's heart pounded loudly as panic and fear swept over him. Yelling Vernon was bearable, seething Vernon was distracted, swearing Vernon was normal. Calm Vernon was dangerous.

For some reason that even he himself couldn't understand, Harry was struggling to swallow. With the vice-like grip around his throat, he should be trying to breathe, not swallow. He kept clawing at his uncle's hand. Strange spots were popping in and out of his vision.

"And after you've finished that," Vernon continued. "You're going to bring all the pieces to Petunia. She will sort out your punishment, and then I'll start getting the money back from you in flesh."

By this point, Harry was barely holding on to consciousness. Too weak to continue, his arms fell limply at his sides, his head lolling off as he tried on vain to keep himself alert.

"Oh," he said, dropping the boy to the floor. "And if that bloody bird ever tries to come back here, I will shoot it. Meanwhile, Petunia will be looking up recipes for roasted owl." He delivered one final blow in the form of a swift kick, before strolling away, whistling tunelessly.

--

It had taken several days before Vernon decided Harry was well enough to begin 'paying them back' for breaking such a costly item. After Petunia was done punishing him, Harry hadn't woken up for nearly three days. Despite her slight frame, the woman was just as ferocious as her husband, and twice as vindictive.

He couldn't assess the damage that had been done to him as he usually would. It had never gotten this bad before. At this point, it was easier to figure out what didn't hurt, as opposed to nursing a few injuries. What was left uninjured was both of his feet, and his right hand. Even days later, Vernon's first attack had left an impression, as he was still unable to speak. Harry couldn't understand why it wasn't healing properly. It had been days ago, and he was a notoriously fast healer.

The Dursley's decided this was a good thing. After all, a good servant was a quiet one.

"Boy!" Vernon bellowed, a sick gleam in his eye. He and his family were seated around the table, chatting happily.

Harry moved to leave his cupboard, but it was locked. Rattling the door slightly, he waited to be let out, knowing that if he were to damage the lock or the door in any way, he would not likely be let out for the rest of the summer. Only being the first week of July, that was a long wait.

When Petunia dragged him by the collar to the kitchen, Vernon snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor on his right side.

Finally released by his aunt, Harry slowly limped to the spot that was indicated and stared at his shoes.

To be completely honest, Harry would have much rather been made to face Voldemort than this. At least then he knew he would be able to fight back. He would be expected to fight back. It takes a particularly sick person to attack someone with no means of defending themselves, and as psychotic as Voldemort was, he had given Harry his wand back a few weeks ago so they could fight properly in the graveyard.

"Shirt off, boy." Vernon growled.

He tried to obey. He really did, but he couldn't move very well. His left arm was broken, there was no doubt about that, and the moment he'd gotten back to Privet drive (or, in the garage, safe from nosy neighbors) his hand had been slammed in the car door. That was a shattered, mangled mess. And moving his right arm too much aggravated his ribs. That wasn't as easy to decipher, whether they were broken or just severely bruised. Either way, he couldn't obey.

"Dearest Pet," Vernon grinned. "How much was the lovely clock that the freak broke?"

Without skipping a beat, she happily informed him that it had been one thousand, one hundred and eighty pounds.

"And Dudley's shirt?" He asked her, pointing to the massive grey t-shirt on Harry.

"Seventeen," she answered with a bored sniff.

He nodded. "Get the scissors, Dudley."

Harry's eyes widened in fear. He had enough problems keeping the words he already had carved into his skin a secret. Glamours could only cover so much before the constant strain on his magic would wear him down too far to do much of anything else. Either the glamours would crack, or his practical school work would suffer, and he was not going to let anyone ever see his grotesque form without them.

Fortunately, there weren't going to be any words. Vernon used the scissors to cut a single line up the back of Harry's shirt, exposing his back completely.

"On your knees, you filthy ingrate."

Harry was slightly nauseous as bolts of pain flared throughout his protesting body. It took a while, but Vernon was oddly not rushing him. The bastard was enjoying this too much, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The sound of an unbuckling belt was unmistakable. "In less than two weeks being here, you've cost me nearly twelve hundred pounds. I'm betting it will take all summer for you to pay that back, but lucky for you... You won't have to do anything. I'll be taking it from you."

"Well," Dudley said, sliding his chair back. "Much fun as this is, I have plans. I'll be back by midnight."

"Have fun, Darling," Petunia cooed.

Crack!

The first blow from the belt left Harry reeling, the buckle tearing at his flesh. He could feel warmth running down his back. For a moment, he couldn't breathe.

"There's two pounds," Vernon said gleefully, rearing back for another.

--

Time passed both slowly and quickly for Harry after that. After about two dozen lashes, the only thing keeping him conscious was his aunt pouring a pitcher of water on him. The floor around him was soaked and tendrils of red and pink swirling together were the only things he could focus on. He was numb.

Eventually, they went to bed. Harry was left on the floor.

And so it went. Every two days, Vernon would lash him into senselessness, Petunia would keep him awake, Dudley would leave, and Harry would wake up in his cupboard with dry toast next to him.

To avoid ruining more shirts, he went without for the entire summer. Every pair of pants he owned were caked with blood. The price of his ruined clothes was added into what he was already 'paying' for. The only positive thing out of the whole mess was that he no longer had to do the outside chores. Sure, he was still cooking and cleaning inside, but his flayed back was never subjected to the brutal summer sun.
His so-called holiday crept by in a pain filled fog.

--

By the time his yearly letter came around, Harry's debt had been paid for three or four days and he was able to hide most of his injuries. The only downside being that he was no longer being gifted his daily toast. He still didn't know where the hell it had come from, but he didn't dare look a gift horse in the mouth. The better his injuries got and the more work he was assigned, the less he ate. He was back down to twice a week.

For the final week before they dropped him off for the year, he was to be fed daily, as usual. While it was all well and good to keep him weak during the summer, they couldn't have him completely broken before he returned to school. They didn't want those freaks to show up at their door, especially when the neighbors might see them.

It hadn't even occurred to Harry that his recent tradition of spending August with the Weasley's had not happened this year. He was too busy trying to keep himself awake to realize that he hadn't received any mail either. He didn't realize this until he'd been given an actual meal by Petunia as a brown barn owl tapped on the kitchen window.

"Get that beast away from my window, freak!" She shrieked.

He stood slowly and limped to the window. Only opening it partially, he blocked it's entry, but managed to take the letter and give the owl a quick pet and sneak it a bite of his meager meal.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

--note--
parseltongue in italics

Chapter Notes

A/N I was able to sort out my editing. Parseltongue is now in italics!

A few days later, he and his trunk were dropped off near the muggle side of Diagon Alley. Making sure he was thoroughly covered by his baggy clothes along with the hoodie and large sunglasses that had appeared in his cupboard this morning, he dragged his trunk into the Leaky Cauldron.

Paying a small fee, he left it there. He didn't have enough to pay for his room yet, but he couldn't lug the stupid thing around until he could get to Gringotts and back.

He wasn't concerned. The trunk was layered with protections and wards, and a few carved in runes just to be cautious, and he couldn't even get into trouble for underage magic because with runes, there was no need to use a wand. It was untraceable.

It wasn't until he got close to the Goblin at the front desk that he realized he had a problem, and felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. He'd written a quick 'keep it till I come back at 12' on a napkin with a galleon on it to give Tom at the Leaky, but there was no way he'd be able to write fast enough to keep up a full on conversation.

He pulled another napkin out of his pocket and mimed for a quill towards one of the goblins while keeping his head down as much as possible. In addition to his lightening bolt, he'd gotten a new scar on his face, this one on the right side of his face from that damned clock. He'd keep his face hidden as much as possible until he got to Hogwarts and could cast his usual glamours.

Penning a quick note, he nodded his thanks and returned the quill and ink.

- hey Griphook. i need to see someone about my account. i don't have my key.-

He slid the note to the main teller and waited.

"And who might you be?" He asked with a sneer, his sharp fangs glinting in the light.

Casting a quick glance around, he pushed aside his hair just enough to show the lightening bolt and immediately covered it back up.

"I see," he said, his sneer replaced by a mask of indifference. "And how, may I ask, did you lose your key, Mr. P-"

Harry shook his head violently to keep the goblin from speaking his name. He knew what was coming next, and in efforts to avoid a verbal response, he gave over his wand, the handle pointing toward Griphook. Any other way would have made him appear threatening, which was an incredibly stupid thing to do to a goblin.

"We will go to my office, as I am the account manager for the- for your family vaults." He caught his near slip just in time. There were a couple of people too close for Harry's comfort, and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself.

With a nod directed at another teller, he gestured Harry to follow him down a dimly lit hallway and through a black painted door with a metal nameplate. He took a seat and eyed the boy, who had yet to do the same. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter, and we will discuss your accounts."

He watched with curiosity, and a small amount of confusion as the boy gingerly sat on the front of the chair and let out a slow breath. The confusion grew into suspicion when he mimed for a quill and ink, rather than speak.

Letting his magic reach out, Griphook could sense nothing to indicate he was anyone other than who he claimed. No glamours, no polyjuice. Hm. "Would you be averse to lowering your hood and removing your sunglasses?"

The boy hesitated, obviously warring with himself, but eventually did as asked.

Griphook did something then that no other living soul would see. Goblins were known for being proud and rarely, if ever, showed emotion. Today, his jaw dropped open in horror.

What he saw was nothing like the boy he'd first met five years ago, nor even close to the photographs he had seen in the recent newspapers still covering the Tournament.

This boy looked like walking death. His cheeks and eyes were sunken in, pale as a ghost, and most horribly was his signature emerald eyes had even changed. To begin with, only one was still green, dull and void of life, but green nonetheless. The other had turned black, and appeared to be severely bloodshot. There was a jagged scar reaching from his eyebrow to his cheekbone.

-- please. i only need to make a withdrawl and replace my key--

"Mr. Potter," Griphook said in a strangely gentle tone. "Why do you not speak?"

For a moment, it seemed that he might cry, but instead only shook his head.

"Though it is not required," he said, beginning to pen a short letter. "I feel obligated to ask your permission to involve the DMLE."

"There's no fucking point either way. It won't make a difference."Harry sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Parseltongue. Intriguing. He put down his quill. "May I inquire as to why you feel that way?"

His head snapped up so fast, the goblin winced slightly upon hearing the crack of his neck. "You... You can understand me?"

"I can, Mr. Potter." He folded his hands together. "Now would you please explain your current state?"

He was able to speak to someone! Completely thrilled with that revelation, he nearly cried. "It doesn't matter, Griphook. Besides, I'll look like me again when I go back to school. My only problem is that I am out of gold and I cannot go back without my supplies. I would be more than willing to offer you a... reasonable amount for your silence."

"While I could say I have no want of your gold, I will not lie. However, I would like to offer you a deal. Should you give me the full explanation, I will, in return, keep your secrets." He leaned back in his chair, another thing he would deny to his last breath. "You need not decide immediately, as we have business to discuss. I hope you don't have plans for the afternoon, Mr. Potter, as there is much to go through. Particularly, why you have repeatedly neglected to respond to Gringotts summons beginning on October 31st of last year."

Harry's brow knit. "What summons? What do you mean repeatedly?"

Griphook let out an impressive string of curses under his breath, in his native tongue of course. "Mr. Potter, as y-"

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but could you please just call me Harry?"

"Very well, Harry," he said, smiling in spite of himself. He liked this boy. He had for the last few years. "As you are no doubt aware, the contract you were bound by for the Tri-Wizard tournament, you have been legally emancipated... Though, judging by your reaction, you had no clue. Nevertheless, the instant your name came from the Goblet of Fire, you became a legal adult, as the competition was only for adults. Despite being underage, the ancient magics used to create the cup supercede Wizard Laws. Despite the fact that I have every faith in you, I must tell you that as an heir to multiple titles, you must prove your identity. It is standard practice when dealing with the inheritances of both the wealthy and nobility. In this particular case, you are both."

"Okay, my vault is kind of impressive, but I'm sure they don't even come close to wealthy, compared to your other clients."

How is it that this boy knows nothing of himself? "Harry, as far as I am aware, the only vault you have personally visited was the one your parents set up to last until you graduated from Hogwarts. It is the smallest of your vaults. I see that the only way to proceed will be to explain nearly everything. First things first. Identity. Please step this way, Harry."

Harry followed him over to a stone table with a stack of blank parchment, a small ritual dagger and a stone bowl. "Oh, wait. The barman at the Leaky Cauldron has my things and I told him I'd be back shortly to pay for my stay."

"I will send word that you will be occupied for the majority of the afternoon, and have him send the bill for your room to me to deal with later. While I do that, simply cut your right index finger and place exactly seven drops of blood into the bowl."

That could be a problem. Despite the fact that many of his injuries were healing, the fingers on his left hand had not been set properly and the entire hand was nothing short of useless. He couldn't pick up the dagger.

After a few minutes of staring stupidly at the table, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Um... Griphook... I need- can you help me? When you're finished, that is."

"One moment, please," he said, closing the letter with the Gringotts seal. Only then did he look up at the boy, who was staring at the dagger, looking ashamed. "A fear of blood is perfectly normal, nothing to be upset over."

"It isn't- that's not- I can't..." Harry let his voice trail off with a frustrated sigh. Shakily, he raised his left hand and pulled back the sleeve. "I can't pick it up."

He barely heard the boy's whispered confession as he stared at the mangled hand. Every one of the fingers was broken in at least one place, and were healed crookedly. Forcing a calm facade, he nodded sharply. "I will send off the letter and be back to assist you momentarily."

The instant he closed the door behind him, his otherwise stoic demeanor crumbled. Tossing the letter in the air, it vanished. For once, he was grateful that Harry had so little knowledge of the magical world. Had he known that throwing the letter would send it, he would have questioned Griphook's reason for leaving, possibly growing angry.

Quickly as he was able, Griphook summoned Thortac and gave what little information he had regarding Harry's health. Thortac was one of the best, and most discreet healers in the Goblin Nation. And one of the most terrifying.

"Before I forget, Thortac, my client speaks only Parseltongue." He kept his voice low, and strictly in his own tongue, lest they be overheard by a human employee. "Though I have yet to ascertain the reason."

Inside his office, the goblins saw Harry counting out the drops of blood while holding the ritual dagger firmly between his knees. He hastily wiped his finger on his jeans and put the dagger back on the table. "I was able to figure it out myself, Griphook."

"Then I will add what else is needed." He poured in three drops of ink black potion and swirled them together then poured the mixture onto a sheet of the enchanted parchment. "Harry, I would like to introduce you to Thortac. She is a healer."

Oh. "So you've reported me after all?"The look of betrayal in his eyes was enough to break even the coldest heart.

"No, Harry. I've not reported anything to the DMLE." He poured the mixture onto the blank parchment. "As I said, she is one of the best healers, and is very much discreet. Now, this will take a few moments to finish, so I have asked Thortac to give you an examination while we wait."

"I'm sorry for thinking you'd go back on your word, Griphook. It's just... I told people about it before, and none of them have helped. They all called me a liar, politely, of course. Even after I showed... Nevermind."

Thortac waved her claw-like hand over one of the chairs, transfiguring it into a low bed. It came up to Harry's knees. "Remove your outer clothes and lie down, face up."

"Isn't there another way?"Harry asked, unzipping his hoodie. "Can I not stand?"

She went on a vicious rant in gobbledegook, startling Harry, who froze.

Griphook stopped her mid-sentence. "What's wrong, Harry? Are you worried that she is a female?" He never did understand that particular quirk of humans. Their shame and general embarrassment, most commonly in front of the opposite sex.

"No, not at all. I trust you. I just can't lie on my back."He shook out of his sleeve before pulling the other one off, before slowly sitting on the bed to remove his shoes. Merlin, he hated this. Since the summer began, Harry hadn't been able to move at half is normal speed in any task. It was infuriating.

Growing impatient, the healer waved a hand over his shoes, which disappeared along with his socks. "Why not?" She demanded.

"It would probably be better if I just showed you."He winced, but made no sound as he shifted his right arm painfully out of the oversized shirt and pulled it over his head.

Had a pin dropped, they might have all gone deaf.

Eventually, the woman broke the silence. "Explain this immediately." She growled, baring her teeth. "Griphook, get my brother. Now."

Harry shook at the venom of her words. "How ever I offended you, I offer my sincerest apologies, Healer Thortac."

"You have not offended me yet, but if you do not explain this, you will have."

He couldn't stop shaking under her gaze. "I- I don't have... the best family."

"Or one worth half a crup shite!" She shouted, practically foaming at the mouth.

Oh shit. What have I done? "I'm sorry!"He said reflexively.

She stopped and took several slow breaths before speaking again. "There is nothing that warrants this level of abuse on a child. I had no intention of frightening you. It is I, who owe you the apology, sir. And I will be fitting you with a chain."

"Call me Harry," he said shakily, trying to return his heart rate to something resembling normal, not wanting to think about what she meant by the chain remark.

"You are a very strange human," she noted with a hint of amusement.

For the first time in who knows how long, Harry laughed. Nothing dramatic, just a short hiss, but it was more than he found himself capable of in months. "And you are absolutely right. I've never been normal. Um, can I ask... What do you need a chain for?"

"It is a rarely bestowed gift of protection. Never has one been issued to a human. It is a symbol to all those who intend harm that you are under the protection of the Goblin Nation. I am sure that you know, as does every magical race, that we are not to be trifled with. This, by extension, essentially makes you a goblin in all but blood." She smiled slightly. "Enough of that. I still need to examine you. The trousers need to be removed as well, and unless there is damage beneath them, you may keep your underthings on."

He turned red. "There is some, but not enough to bother me. I'll keep them on. Could you help me stand? I've been sitting still too long." Offering his damaged left arm, he pushed himself slowly up with his right.

Taking the stack of parchment off the stone table, she waved both hands over his form, muttering what sounded like an incantation in gobbledegook.
As the pages rose one by one, Harry watched in fascination. Words appeared, much too quickly for anyone to actually read, and as they filled, separated themselves into several piles. A tingling sensation swept over him, and when it vanished abruptly, light-headedness took over and the world went black.

--

When Harry woke, he was confused and quite disoriented. While he didn't recognize his surroundings, he didn't care. Nothing else mattered except the fact that he woke with almost no pain. He still felt some, so he wasn't dead. What happened?

Fearing that any kind of movement would bring the pain back, he held as still as possible.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Ah, Mr. Potter." A voice somewhere to his left said. Goblin voice. "Finally awake. Good."

So he's still at Gringotts. Okay, that's something. " What happened?"

"While under my sisters' care, you collapsed. You have been in a magically induced coma for approximately forty-seven hours to aid in your healing."

"You're Thortac's brother? Oh, so you must be the one with the chains."

There was a low chuckle from somewhere else, but it was covered by a cough.

"I am, yes." The goblin said. "Please, sit up so we may discuss your health concerns."

"Concerns?" Harry almost laughed. "I feel fantastic! I have no concerns." Regardless, he sat up. Too fast, slight head rush. He shook his head to clear the fog.

Half a dozen goblins were nearby. He was on the same bed as in Griphook's office, but this was not the office. This was a massive room with stone floors and walls, with darker colored rugs and tapestries. There was no furniture other than the bed he was on and what looked like a ritualistic altar.

With slight trepidation, he turned and put his bare feet on the cool floor. He flexed his feet, then his legs. Not wanting to stand yet, he rolled his shoulders, bent his elbows and finally his hands. Both of them. His left hand was far from perfect, but his fingers were straight and mostly usable!

"Holy shit," he breathed, the astonishment clear on his face. Without a second thought, he slid to the floor on his knees and pulled the healer into a hug. "Thank you so much, Thortac."

"You see it is as I explained, Majesty?" Griphook asked his King. "The boy sees little difference between his own species and any other."

"That much is clear," the king mused. "Though, I am curious as to why."

Harry swiped at his tears hastily and pulled back, slightly embarrassed to be in front of so many people in his ill-fitting boxers. "Is that wrong somehow? To see all magical beings as equals? Even if you do, essentially rule the world..."

The King smirked. "And how do you figure that, young Lord?"

"It's fairly obvious, honestly." He shrugged. "No government can function without currency, and the magical world entrusted the Goblin Nation with almost complete control. If the goblins ever decide to go to war with wizards, you could topple the entire community pretty much instantly. Calling us equals really isn't accurate, then, is it? As far as I'm concerned, you're all a bit higher up on the food chain, so to speak."

Griphook shot the King an 'I told you so' look and smirked.

"I will agree with your offer, Thortac." The King said with a nod of finality. "Griphook, take our young lord to your office to go over the necessary business. And, young Lord, I am pleased to call you a friend to the Goblins. May our enemies cower in your wake."

For some unfathomable reason, Harry blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but felt as though the thought were somehow... right. "May your gold overflow and your sword never dull."

Six shocked faces stared at him and a few nodded approval before they all went their separate ways.

Harry leaned toward the bed and pushed himself off the floor. He was stiff and achy but it was leagues better than before. All of the sudden, a few things seemed to occur to him, and he needed answers. "Griphook, did you call Thortac's brother 'Majesty'?"

"He is the King." Came the blunt reply.

Merlin. Okay, onward then. "And why did he keep calling me-"

"Because, Harry, you are exactly that. A Lord. To more than one family, I might add. The identification ritual that you bled for was left in my office, and has yet to be read. It will explain your lordships and heir-ships, though I imagine you will have many questions."

Before they left the chamber, Griphook took off his outer robe and waved his hand over it. The robe grew dramatically. He handed it to Harry, who put it on gratefully.

"For the moment," the goblin said. "We will go over your business information first, then Thortac will return to discuss your medical concerns. Is this agreeable to you?"

"Sure," Harry replied easily. "That's fine by me. Although, I don't see cause for concern anymore."

Griphook waved this off and tapped the lock on a muggle-ish filing cabinet beside his desk. It popped open and automatically levitated a stack of folders, all of which were placed on the mahogany tabletop. He handed Harry the topmost folder and waited in silence.

Birth name(s)
(public file) Harry James Potter
(birth name) Harrison Potter Snape
Birth date
July 31, 1980
Parents
mother(s) -Lilyana Zinnia Potter nee Snape nee Evans (biological) (missing)
father(s) -Severus Tobias Snape-Malfoy (biological)
-James Charlus Potter (adopted) (deceased)
Sibling(s)
- Draco Lucian Malfoy (twin brother, paternal)
Godparent(s)
- Lucius Abraxas Malfoy
- Bellatrix Lyra Lestrange nee Black (missing)
- Sirius Orion Black (missing)
- Narcissa Alya Black

Harry's newly healed knees buckled, but he never looked away from the parchment, rather tightening his grip. "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Griphook looked at the young boy with confusion. It was merely his immediate family line. What could cause such a reaction? The boy was back to his ghostly palor, shaking and breathing erratically.

"Harry?"

He didn't react immediately. "I... I'm not... this isn't possible... How? Why didn't... no one ever said..." His breaths became shorter and more frequent.

The goblin summoned a potion and gave it a sniff to ensure its effectiveness. Calming Draughts were not often used in this particular office, therefore occasionally losing potency due to its limited shelf life. He was glad it was still within date. "Drink this. It will help calm you."

Blindly reaching for whatever the goblin was trying to give him, he refused to look away from the page.

When the potion began to take effect, the words seemed slightly less catastrophic. "I'm sorry. This just makes no sense. How has my entire life been a lie? And why did no one think to tell me? Have you read this? Is there any way a mistake was made?"

Had anyone else asked such a question, Griphook might have audited them for no other purpose than the inconvenience it would cause. "Whatever is written is fact. I have not read it. May I ask what has upset you?"

No verbal response. He did, however, hand over the parchment.

Swearing silently to himself, the goblin gave what he hoped was a comforting pat.

"The only things I knew were my mother and one of my godfather's names. I didn't even know my own name. How could this be possible? My Hogwarts letter knew that I was sleeping in a cupboard, but got my name wrong? This isn't right. Who has that kind of influence? How could Snape be my father? He hates me! Wait. What if mum's death was why he hates me?" Harry seethed.

"But, Harry-excuse me, Harrison," Griphook corrected himself. "Were your mother deceased, that may be true. As it is, she is quite alive."

"What?" If it were possible to shout in parseltongue, that would have been it. He re-read the page, paying particular attention to his mother's line. Missing. "This is too much. I can't think clearly right now. Would it be alright with you if we went over all this later? Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?"

"I understand," came the reply. "And I will have plenty of time at one thirty. Unfortunately, Thortac will have both our heads if you do not speak with her today."

He nodded. "Do you still have my clothes?"

Griphook grimaced. "Given their state, they should have been burned, but to answer your question, yes. On to your initial inquiry, when you first arrived. As you have proven your identity, any and all previously issued keys are now useless. I can now offer you a money pouch. It will enable you to have nearly unlimited access to the vault you visit each year that will maintain a predetermined amount, decided by you, refilling itself every time you make a purchase. For a small fee, I will be able to link it directly to you without fear of theft. Should you so choose that route, The fee covers any and all enchantments, spells and the blood link. I would be willing to discuss everything in detail if you wish."

"That's fine. We can talk about all that tomorrow. I'll take the pouch, and pay the extra for its protective magics." He just wanted to go to bed, despite having slept for nearly two days straight. "Thanks for all your help. Truly. Alright, so where can I find Thortac's office?"

--

"How valid is my fear that this won't be as simple as telling me I'm fine?"Harry asked the healer ten minutes later.

She snorted. "Because you do not come off as unintelligent." A thick stack of parchment landed on her desk with a solid thud. "This, Harry, is your entire medical history. Dated, detailed and impossible to counterfeit. This is quite troubling. I have performed this same examination on countless others over the last forty years and I have never seen anything like it. The single longest history I have ever recorded was that of an enslaved wizard who had been tortured for three years and he was more than a century your senior. Even his report was less than half the length of yours."

What was he supposed to say about that?

"We simply do not have the time, nor do I possess the patience to go over these in as much detail as this warrants. What we will be going over, however, are several things. First, I would like to point out that any other child of your age would have two or three sets of paperwork. One being natural illnesses, one for natural injuries such as falling and spraining something. For the most part, that covers nearly every child and a great many adults. You have six sets. One for abuse at the hands of minors, one for the abuse of adults, one for any and all cases of neglect, whether that be in the home, school or even out shopping with a neighbor. There is one more set, and this is what we will be discussing."

"What else could there possibly be? Doesn't that cover everything?"

"If only that were true," she sighed, flicking her hand at the pile, two pages flew out and sat side by side, each with a different heading. "These are instances of illegal magics performed upon your person."

Potions/Compulsions/Spells
-Love potions. Potency to gradually increase
-keyed to Ginevra Weasley. (Administered monthly by Margaret "Molly" Weasley and Albus Dumbledore, beginning September 1, 1992)
-Loyalty potions/compulsions
-keyed to Albus Dumbledore, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Margaret "Molly" Weasley and Ginevra Weasley. (Administered by Rubeus Hagrid August 1, 1991, administered bi-weekly by Albus Dumbledore beginning September 1, 1991)
-Animosity compulsions
-keyed to all Slytherins past and present (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-Apprehension/Mistrust compulsions
-keyed to anyone outside Gryffindor (adjustments to be made by Albus Dumbledore) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-keyed to all authority figures (adjustments to be made by Albus Dumbledore) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
Personality Alteration Spells
-low self-esteem, (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-quick temper (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-self sacrificing behaviour (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-bouts of depression (set to gradually increase) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-self preservation- 80% blocked (performed by Albus Dumbledore)

The second page was shorter, but no better.

Natural Powers/Abilities
-Limited Binds/Blocks
-information retention (40% bound) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-eidetic memory (85% bound) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-occlumens/legilimens (95% bound) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-familiar(s) bond (55% blocked) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-Snowy owl (Hedwig) bonding incomplete
-Horned Serpent (unbonded)
-healing (70% blocked) (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-Full Binds/Blocks
-soulmate bond(s) -Gemini (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-parslemagic (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-metamorphmagous (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-wandless magic (performed by Albus Dumbledore)
-wordless magic (performed by Albus Dumbledore)

"Okay." Harry said dully.

Thortac was surprised. How the human boy was able to maintain his composure was beyond her. She was well past horrified at his files, but he just accepted it. Then she saw him.

He was completely blank, but his pupils were fully dilated and she could barely detect his breathing. His frantic pulse was louder than his weakened breaths.

--

After casting all necessary alarm and locking charms, Griphook went in search of his mate. Together they would go over the unsettling case of the Boy-Who-Lived-through-too-much. Were he an actual goblin, and not one by his Majesty's decree, Harry would have been an assumed warrior, heavily skilled enough to withstand as much battle to have acquired such scarring. As he was neither a true goblin nor warrior, his appearance did little else than infuriate a very dangerous race. Their own young were revered and received thorough education on a wide variety of subjects ranging from ritualistic magics to strategy/combat skills to muggle customs. Abuse of a goblin youth was entirely unheard of. Things of that nature were solely present in humans. That was one reason so many magical creatures kept themselves at a distance. Humans had somehow not realized that the only way to ensure a decent future, or a future at all, was to guide and protect until the young were deemed ready to do so for themselves.

Griphooks' mate was still in her office, which was unusual. As a healer, her services were not often required at the bank. Even so, he saw the light cast from beneath her door and knocked. Mate or no, he showed the respect of allowing her to finish her business before entering.

"If you have finished for the day, I should like to escort you." He said in gobbledegook.

She growled. "I have not. Harry has gone into a state of shock and will not be roused until tomorrow."

Shock? While the information he and Harry discussed was unsettling, it did not explain his sudden state. "He was distressed when he left my office, but did not seem upset enough to warrant going into shock. Did you discover what caused it?"

"Unfortunately, my discoveries are seemingly to blame." Her eyes closed. Harry was breaking the historically limited range of emotions that goblins were known for. Goblins were methodical, fierce, not overly affectionate though they made their pride well known to their young. Harry was bringing out more human emotions in them. She desperately wanted to hug the boy. Guilt reared it's head at the knowledge that she was partially to blame for his situation. This led to confusion, because she was in no way responsible for all the things that had been done to him, only reporting them to him. These were not goblin feelings, and she did not like it. "Because of our Laws, any harm that has befallen him before protection was granted cannot be prosecuted by our own."

"You wish to harm those who have abused him." He didn't understand. Yes, she was a mother, and her protective instincts were strong, but her statement puzzled him. "Muggles cannot be tried by our own regardless of protection."

"It is not the muggles that concern me. They can be tried by the wizards. I do not care. My ire is reserved for a witch and wizard. And until the crime is repeated, as it doubtlessly will be, we can do nothing. Even then, as Harry is a legally emancipated adult, we would need his explicit consent. Given the present circumstances, he is unable to do so, and will be until he is cleansed."

"I fear that I do not understand," he said calmly, taking a seat next to his mate.

"That child has so many blocks, spells, potions, compulsions and bindings on his mind, body and magic that I cannot fathom how he is still alive. That is astounding in itself, but the fact that he has been neither driven completely mad nor lost his magic entirely should be impossible." She gave him the two damning pages of evidence of magical abuse. "We have eleven days before he leaves for that school and is back under that bastard's influence. We will have to remove as many of these abominations as possible in that time frame."

They sat in silence as Griphook came to terms with his fury and was then able to regain control. "This will be dangerous, not only for him, but the large team the rituals will require. For him to be faced with so many crippling magics, yet functional, his power must be incredibly strong. I doubt that the Wizarding world has encountered such power since Merlin and Morgana themselves. He will have to be moved to another location to be healed. It is likely that the backlash would destroy Gringotts entirely."

"Location will be dealt with easily enough." Thortac said dismissively. "I sensed his upset when he came here. Do you know anything about it?"

He sighed. "I do. Much like the information you discovered, what else we found was... unsettling."

"Go on."

"Everything the world knows of him is a lie. Down, even to his name and lineage. Upon learning this, we never got past his identification ritual."

"What were your findings?" She asked, confused. Was he not Harry Potter, boy who lived?

"His name is Harrison Potter Snape. He is not an orphan, as all of his biological parents live. Only his mother and one of his four godparents were known truthfully. His father is potions Master, Severus Snape. His other godparents are heavily aligned with the Dark Lord. It also appears that he is not an only child, but twin brother to the Malfoy heir. According to the parchment, Lord Malfoy is legally bonded to the boys' father, and the only way it could be possible for the boys to be brothers is if Narcissa Black is not heir Malfoy's biological parent. They are twins."

"Not possible," she said with an uncharacteristic roll of her eyes. "Heir Malfoy is nearly two months older, and even if he is fathered by Lord Malfoy and Potions Master Snape, then Lily Potter could not be Harry's biological mother. Lord Malfoy would have been listed as his other biological father."

"Unless they were carried by Snape and forcibly separated before birth. It is highly illegal, dark and archaic, but entirely possible." He summoned a bottle of ancient goblin made mead and two glasses.

"Nothing further will be discussed with Harrison for the next two days." Thortac said, determined. "He needs time to adjust to everything. Should we continue without hesitation, his weakened mental state could become life threatening when the necessary rituals are performed. Until then, we can talk him through what information he has and let him rest."

They sipped their mead in silence for a while, letting everything sink in.

"Have you discovered the reason for the boys' inability to speak anything other than parseltongue?"

"Parseltongue does not require use of one's vocal cords," she said simply, draining her glass. "Early in the summer, a man by the name of Vernon Dursley, badly damaged them by means of strangulation."

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

this is a short one, but it was a good place to call it quits

Thoroughly disguised by the goblins' glamours, Harry spent the next day perusing Diagon Alley. He was under Healer's orders not to strain himself too much and burn all his clothes and replace them. It was an odd order, but he suspected that they were trying to take his mind off of everything that had occurred recently. They also assured him that they would be waiting for him to talk as soon as he was ready.

Griphook had given him an enchanted dictation quill that would automatically translate his hissing to English on parchment that would erase itself with a tap of his wand, should he need to speak with anyone.

Harry found himself in a store he'd never seen before that sold both wizard and muggle clothing. By his selections, it was clear to anyone with eyes that this stranger was angry. He was forced to ask for help carrying the large stack to the dressing rooms as it would have been categorized as 'too strenuous' by Thortac.

Initially, he had been concerned that he couldn't properly get clothes without seeing what they looked like on him without the glamours, but apparently, certain types of glamours could be manipulated in such a way that allowed specific people to see through them. As it happens, only Harry and the two goblins were able to see past them. To everyone else, he appeared to be a boy with short blonde hair, light blue eyes and an absolutely unremarkable face without scars. His build and height were the smallest changes. After all, it would raise questions as to why someone with a larger build were trying on smaller clothes.

Not wanting to draw attention to his parseltongue problem, he had Thortac write out a simplified copy of his restrictive orders so that they would assist him without hesitation. On the note, it was clearly stated that he was a minor cursed mute, but not deaf. They didn't need to know how much was a lie, and for it to be signed by a goblin healer, no one dared question its validity.

It wasn't until he left Gringotts that he realized he still walked with a limp, slighter than before, but noticeable regardless. Despite all the healing done, he wasn't going to reach full health for quite a while. His left hand, while essentially functional, had difficulties with grip and dexterity. His back also ached, but it was a far cry from the constant agony he had grown to expect.

"Going for the dark and broody muggle look then?" The friendly clerk asked with a smile that bordered on smirking.

He rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly as he went into the dressing room. Tight, dark jeans were a good look, he decided, draping the lighter ones over the door for return.

In the mirror, he saw himself. Kind of. Over the summer he had refrained from seeking out his reflection for fear he would break. He had felt the scar over his eye, but never saw the damage. A jagged line cut through his eyebrow completely, leaving a thin gap and trailed over the highest point of his cheekbone. His eye had turned from green to black, but he could not understand why. It didn't matter, he supposed. Thortac told him it looked better than before, but he couldn't see how. At least he now knew why his aunt and uncle said he wasn't allowed to look at any of them. Fortunately, had regained his sight in that eye. It hadn't been gone entirely, but close enough.

With so little time remaining before returning to Hogwarts, Harry decided that a weeks worth of clothes would be enough for now, though he did but plenty of socks, boxers, plain undershirts and two new pairs of shoes, before tossing his old clothes into a bag for Griphook to burn. It seemed like he was more offended by the clothes than Harry was, and figured the goblin would appreciate the chance to burn them. In all honesty, Harry didn't care either way. He only had to wear them in July and August. The rest of the time, he wore the exact same thing as everyone else his age. His uniform. Sure, on the weekends, they all wore different things, but Harry just kept wearing his uniform. Casually, of course. No robe, no tie, just the open button down and slacks. What difference did it make? About halfway through first year, his housemates eventually stopped commenting on it.

The store clerk put a featherweight charm on his bags, waving happily as he left the store.

Now that all was said and done, he finally had the chance to just think.

What was he going to do? Everything he'd ever heard about himself was a lie. Even the things that weren't visible to the public. Part of him wondered why that was what hurt the most. His very personality wasn't even his. At this point, the depression compulsions were not necessary. If Dumbledore wanted him depressed, he was certainly fulfilling that wish. And what about his parents? Lily and Snape had been married. In what fucking world did that make sense? Not to mention that she had been apparently divorced and remarried before the age of twenty-one. How was it possible to have twins with different parents? How could Malfoy of all people be his twin? How did they look nothing alike? Behave nothing alike. His mother didn't have poor vision, but James did, but he wasn't actually related to him, so how did he wind up with James' poor eyesight?

For the next two days, Harry continued to think on the hundreds of questions that had arisen, and drank nearly a dozen highly potent calming draughts that he had purchased from the apothecary almost immediately after leaving Gringotts. While he was calm, he was no closer to any of the answers he so desperately needed.
At exactly eleven fifty-five, Harry walked into the bank for his noon appointment with Griphook and Thortac.

"What's left, Griphook?" Harry asked, placing one of the draughts on the desk in a preemptive attempt to keep from accidentally breaking anything. "I want all the information possible, as soon as possible."

"Well, Harry-" Griphook stopped. "Would you prefer to continue using the name Harry, or your birth name?"

That was something he had spent a lot of time thinking about. "Harrison is fine."The more he thought about it, the more natural it seemed. He was never overly fond of his fake name, therefore had little trouble giving it up.

"Very well, Harrison," Griphook smirked. "As I stated during your last visit, you have been legally emancipated. As such, all transactions and arrangements fall into your hands, rather than that of a guardian. I would like to discuss the nature of several long standing, repetitive transactions that have been arranged."

The only thing Harrison could think of would be for his education. "Okay, then."

"In order of monetary value," the goblin regarded the document on his desk. "To Albus Dumbledore, a monthly allotment of three thousand galleons beginning in November third of 1981. To Petunia and Vernon Dursley, a monthly allotment of one thousand galleons to be converted to muggle currency also beginning November third of 1981. To Margaret "Molly" Weasley, a yearly allotment of ten thousand galleons beginning August first of 1992. To Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, a monthly allotment of five hundred galleons beginning September first of 1991. To Ginny Weasley, a monthly allotment of seven hundred fifty galleons beginning August first of 1992. Of these, how many have you authorized?"

Harry downed the potion, gritting his teeth until it could take effect. "I didn't know about any of them, and I certainly haven't authorized anything. The only thing that should be automatically paid for is my tuition for Hogwarts. Anything else I want stopped immediately. I also want every last knut returned to my accounts. If that has to involve legal action, I don't care. I have no problems hiring a solicitor."

"Until I can ascertain the legalities behind the transactions, it may only be possible to recollect the assets given since your emancipation."

"I understand, sir." Harrison hissed with a nod. "Who was it that originally signed off on the transactions?"

"That responsibility would fall to your magical guardian. In this case, as your parents wills were never applicable, that would be one Albus Dumbledore."

The wizard closed his eyes, seething. "If everyone thought that my parents were dead, why were the wills never applied?"

"They were sealed, Mr. Snape, by Albus Dumbledore. As you are of legal age, you have the authority to override this decision."

He didn't hesitate. "Do it."

Griphook smiled evilly, his fangs bared. He waved his hand over the bottom drawer and took out two rings, one slightly larger than the other. They looked like wedding bands. Names were engraved on them. Liliana Z. Potter on the smaller of the two and James C. Potter on the larger. He handed Harrison the same dagger from the other day. "Simply rub the cut over the name, thoroughly covering each, and they will begin. One at a time."

He nicked his right forefinger and did as told, first with James'.

When the ring was put back, a white mist formed and covered a large portion of the desk and began to take shape. It was like a projected video. James Potter was smiling and swore his will was being created with a clear mind and health.

"Now that that's taken care of, let's get to it, shall we?" His 'father' said lightly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "First thing's first, I would like it known that if my death is ruled as murder, the investigation must include one Albus too-many-damn-middle-names Dumbledore. I have recently had a cleansing ritual performed by the goblins at Gringotts bank. Now, because of this, I have discovered a number of things, one of which, is that my marriage to Lily Potter, while partially legal, was anything but. I love Lily like a sister, and am stating here and now that the ceremony was performed under the effects of compulsions in the muggle world. We have decided to remain married for no other reason than that neither of us is unable to do anything about it at the present time. For further evidence of compulsions, I swear on my magic that I never would have married Lily, or any woman for that matter, as I am a homosexual. I will not speak for Lily's proof, as that is her own to divulge at a time she deems appropriate.

"Should Lily Potter outlive me, she gets everything. She's my best friend and deserves it. Should her death precede mine, nearly everything goes to our son Harrison Potter Snape, with a few exceptions. For legal reasons, I have to use your full name, so Remus John Lupin, aka Moony, you old bastard, I know that your furry little problem will hinder your job prospects. That being said, I am gifting you with five hundred thousand galleons and a little place known as Whitshell. I'm going to stop for a minute now, so that Moony can gasp and say its all too much and a mistake. Go ahead." James snorted and made a point of tapping his chin a few times before continuing. "It's all in vault number 302.

"Next up, to Sirius Orion Black. Padfoot, I want to give you some advice first. If you haven't already, ask Moony to marry you already. Merlin knows you two have been pussyfooting around way too long! Before you start flipping out, I already figured out how. If you go to the muggle world and get married, the Wizarding world has to honor it. They did with mine and Lily's marriage. So fucking stupid. God, I hope that law keeping you apart isn't still in effect. Anyway, back to the will. You have more money than god, so no, I'm not giving you any. What I am giving you though, are the six cases of 1764 Ogden's Firewhiskey and the Map. You know the one I mean. Take it and give it to Harrison on his eleventh birthday. We have to educate the next generation of Marauders, right?

"Next up, Peter Anthony Pettigrew. For you I leave, with great pride, one thing... a great big 'FUCK YOU, YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD!!!' I hope you die in Azkaban. We never wanted you to be our secret keeper, and honestly, you're the last person I would EVER choose for something so important.

"Last thing, and this is the most important of all. No matter what, Harrison is to be kept as far as possible from Albus fucking Dumbledore. When he goes to Hogwarts, he must never be alone with that lemon drop sucking arsehole, even if it's his head of house or a fully bonded familiar or one of the family's bonded house elves.

"Well, I guess that's everything. So, this is James Charlus Potter signing off with all my love. Bye guys." The mist evaporated.

"Griphook, I want charges brought up on Dumbledore." Harrison didn't wait for a response before rubbing his re-cut finger on his mothers' ring. He watched the mist reform.

Lily, like James, made quick work of getting past the formalities. She huffed in annoyance, a lock of dazzling red hair fluttering out of her face. "Alright, here goes. If I die before James Charlus Potter-" She looked off to the side. "Do we seriously have to spell out each full name? Ugh, fine." she looked back at whatever was recording her Will. "To James Charlus Potter, I leave everything, with a few exceptions. If he dies first, the same goes for my dear sweet baby, Harrison Potter Snape. He gets everything, but like I said, there are exceptions. Stuff first, words next, okay? What am I saying, you can't answer. Nevermind, that's how this is going. To Severus Tobias Snape, I still have all of the potions things we were working on and I put all of it into a vault, so I don't have to list everything. Sev, you are now the proud owner of vault number 948. In addition to that, James and I have agreed to purchase you a bit of land. Whoever else is listening is probably wondering 'oh gee, why land? Why not a house too?' To you, I say shut up and let me explain. The land is encased in a ridiculous amount of magic, separated into different weather patterns, and is never affected by local weather. Plant your ingredients to your hearts' content. One section is dry as hell and just as hot, another is boggy and warm, one is positively arctic, another is tro- okay, you know what, there are instructions with the deed. Figure it out.

"Next up is Narcissa Alya Black. God knows who you'll be bonded to, but I already know that your dowry alone is enough to set you up for life. So, to you, I give the one thing you have been practically drooling over since we were what, thirteen? You get my Elvin vanity with all the trimmings. We both know it's one of a kind, and no matter how hard you have looked, you've never been able to find anything quite like it. Enjoy it, Cissa.

"Okay, Bellatrix Lyra Black-" She looked away again. "Hey, Jamie, if they're bonded by the time I die, will they still get my belongings since the names will be different? Okay good." She looked back. "Bella, I want to give you the biggest hug. You are my best friend and wealthy beyond reason, just like Cissa. For that reason, Jamie and I decided that in the event of our deaths- hello, if you're watching this, we're dead- I want you to take Harrison. Don't get me wrong, I know you'll technically be sharing him with the other godparents, but we want you to have primary custody. Let my poor baby have a good life, one with lots of love and laughter. No one in this world could be more fitting for Harrison. Although, for his pre-Hogwarts education, I want Lucius Abraxas Malfoy to take over. Other than that, Bella, take care of my baby.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, for you I have bought something fun. Before you get too excited, you have to share it. I doubt you'll mind much, but still. My gift to you is to be shared with Severus Tobias Snape. Before I tell you what it is, I feel like I have to explain, because an insane amount of money was spent on it, and we all know that I'm comfortable, not rich. Actually, Remmy, you explain this bit of information to everyone else. I ran into my sister, Petunia- yes, I know, big mistake. Whatever. Anyway, the cow had gotten some lottery tickets and one of them fell out of her bag. Harrison did what any baby does, he picked it up. He was actually trying to give it back to her. No big deal, right? Wrong. We were in muggle London, and she couldn't say exactly why she refused to touch it again, but the word freak was used a lot. So we kept the ticket and poof, we accidentally won about sixty million pounds. So I figured, how better to spit in Petunia's face than to spend her muggle money on a bunch of scary freaks like us? Yes, it's yours and Sev's, but two weeks of every year, everyone should take a trip together..." She paused for dramatic effect here, with a wicked smile. "On a twenty-five cabin yacht. It has pools, hot tubs, restaurants, a massive ballroom, a spa. Oh, and some of the money was used to pay the marvelous goblins to make it unsinkable-insert Titanic joke here-as well as not needing a captain. Elves can do the work of a crew, because we all know that the Malfoy's have about sixty of them. Enjoy it! PS, I took the liberty of naming it 'Hades' Seahag' in honor of my dear sister. Luce, I love you so much, and we both know that you have to be the rock here. You need to keep everyone together and sane. I'm sure that won't be easy.

"So, that's all, because I know that Jamie covered everyone else in his will. So, now to the words. Since we've had to go into hiding, ignore anything that doesn't apply. Excuse the hell out of me for not having any way to check in. You're all probably mad, but by now, I'm obviously dead, so I don't care. I have a couple of important things to say now, so shhh.

"Since the goblins wiped out all lingering magic from Jamie and I, we have discovered a few things. First being that Dumbledore assigned Peter Anthony Pettigrew to be our secret keeper. Since he's the one who cast the damn Fidelius, we couldn't do anything about it. If we're dead, they're to blame.

"Sev, this part is going to be hard for you. As I'm sure you've noticed, my son's name is Harrison Potter Snape. I'm also sure that you are confused as hell by this. Everyone knows that you and I were pregnant at the same time. After Dumbledore used magic to compel us to get married, he realized that Jamie was gay and because of that, none of his little potions could make him get it up for me, which I do not mind in the slightest. Morgana knows I love the man, but sleeping with him? Don't think so. For his plans to work, Jamie and I had to have a baby, or all the damage he caused would have been for nothing. I never cheated on you. You were having twins, Sev. I don't know what ritual he used, but he somehow split them. It wasn't until later that he found out that they were twins, because you obviously didn't get to keep your figure. He transferred Harrison to me and somehow pulled Luce's genes out of him. The lack of proper genes were fixed when Jamie's started making up for it. Dumbledore used some blood adoption ritual, and now he's biologically linked to him. As much as I love Harrison, which I will never stop doing, he's technically not my son. He is yours. I know that I gave Bella custody, and I'll tell you why. This information isn't something to be forced onto anyone. It wouldn't be fair to you, Sev, to accept this as fact immediately. So, what I want you to do is get to know Harrison. Tell him you're his father when you're both a little older, a little more understanding. I plan on redoing my will annually until I die, or Dumbledore is either dead or in prison. So, since this is my first, I obviously didn't get a chance to tell you in person, and for that, I'm so sorry. You are the most stubborn man I have ever met, and damnit, Sev... let Luce and Bella look after you. This isn't easy for anyone, but let them help you.

"This is the absolute worst part. Everything you've heard from Dumbledore about Tom Marvolo Riddle is a huge fucking lie. Dumbledore has made him do horrible things, not only to everyone else, but even to himself. Damnit, Tommy, I'm so sorry for what he's done to you." She broke off to wipe her eyes and calm herself. "I'm okay, Jamie. Let's just keep moving. Okay, back to it. I know there isn't a lot of information on Horcruxes, but I have some that isn't known. I, Lilyana Zinnia Potter, do hereby swear on my magic that everything I am about to reveal to you is the honest truth on punishment deemed worthy of Lady Magic herself. The reason Horcruxes are so little known is not because murder is the worst crime against nature. It is because of the way they have to be created. To create a true Horcrux, one must force a person who is pure of heart, to commit murder. I heard this straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Dumbledore was talking to Fawkes when I tried to floo call him about something stupid. I guess he never heard the chime, I don't know. This is what led me to get the goblins involved in the first place. We all know how much he talks to that poor bird, so I guess it really isn't that surprising to see. He was telling Fawkes that his control over the Wizarding world was dimming since his defeat of Grindlewald, so he hand picked Tommy to be the next dark lord. Tommy had all the right traits to manipulate. Disgraced old family, bad upbringing, sheltered life and his ability to speak with snakes. He was like Dumbledore's wet dream apparently. He was targeted the instant he was put into Slytherin. Dumbles was the reason for the House rivalries. From what I understand, he wanted to be in Slytherin as a student, but was instead put into Ravenclaw.

"Sorry, I'm getting off track. Anyway, Dumbledore Imperius'd Tommy to start doing horrible things. To begin with, he made Tommy kill his grandfather and father, pinning the blame on some uncle or something. That made the first horcrux. The more his soul was mangled, the easier it was for the Imperius to be used. Tommy never did anything wrong! I want that made perfectly clear! Tom Marvolo Riddle was innocent of ALL CHARGES! As I am under oath to speak the full truth, for fear of losing my magic, I will demonstrate." She shot sparks out of her wand, then cast Aguamenti.

"So concludes the Last Will and Testament of Lilyana Zinnia Potter. Bye everyone, we love you!"

The mist vanished.

"Get these blocks and binds off of me." Harry hissed, his tone as filled with venom as his language reflected.

Chapter 4

"Remember, young Lord," Thortac was saying. "This will be done in stages, as it will be painful for you and dangerous for all involved." She directed Harrison into a large circle, surrounded in runes.

Harrison nodded, doing as told. He was completely nude, lying in a grassy field, crowded by no less than three dozen goblins. And he was pissed. He spent the last couple of days learning how to meditate. The ritual required a clear mind to perform and as his natural Occlumency was blocked, he was instructed to use muggle techniques. Given all the apocalyptic changes in his life, this was no easy task. "Pain is something I'm quite used to, Thortac. I understand that this will be much worse, but promise me that you won't stop. Unless it gets too dangerous for all of you. Please, promise me that."

She stayed silent, but jerked her chin once to acknowledge the promise. They had a plan, and she was going to stick to it. Each of the blocks had to be removed separately, but the spells and compulsions could be gone over all at once. The healing block would go first, to make the rest hopefully easier on his body.

The goblins took their places, one third in a small circle around the young wizard, the rest backed off, knowing that this particular block required less magic. The remaining goblins cast nearly twenty various shields and wards, but kept their distance. Unfortunately for the smaller ring, they had to be kept within the barriers as their magic would lose its effectiveness if forced to pass through.

Half an hour later, after Harrison had writhed and cursed in parseltongue, they stopped. Bile worked its way up his blistered throat and he rolled over to expel it. Thortac had told him that the binding magic would take on a physical form, and he would have to fight the urge to choke it back. His stomach clenched painfully as a fountain of black spewed from his mouth.

"We will continue when you are ready." An unknown goblin said, panting.

Harrison looked around. They all looked tired. "I didn't realize..." his ragged breathing was making it difficult to speak-hiss. "That it would... be so hard on... all of you... I'm sorry."

Thortac snorted, dabbing her brow with a conjured handkerchief. "I still think you are very strange."

"Well," he said, retaking his position. "I'm ready when you've all recovered. The sooner this is finished, the sooner I can get on with my life. Not to mention, figure out what the hell that is supposed to be."

She nodded at the group, as well as six or seven of the 'reserves' group. "Collect that, Fangor. We need it for evidence." She indicated the black mess beside Harrison.

He watched them with curiosity as the mess swirled up from the grass and settled in a clear glass beaker, labelled 'health block', and was corked by a goblin with a sadistic grin. "This is incredible. I can literally feel myself healing. Is it supposed to work that fast? Are my scars gone?"

"Normally, no," the grinning goblin began. "It does not work that fast, but you are not a wizard of ordinary strength. Though natural healing will not remove your scars, they may fade over time. I can say with certainty that your back will never fully be cleared of scars, as they are not going to affect your physical health."

Damn. Glamours it is, then. He was hoping that he wouldn't need them anymore. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed that they were not clearing. Finally, he took his glasses off and was floored. Was this how well normal people saw? His glasses were nowhere near this good. A thought occurred to him. "Hang on, did that break my adoption from James?"

"No," Thortac said. "We planned to remove that after-"

"If it's all the same, I'd rather we didn't. He might not have been my biological father, but I saw how much he cared. He didn't mind admitting that, and I would like to keep a part of him."

"Sentimental humans," she sighed with a smirk. "Let's continue."

The removal of the spells and potions was much quicker, but left him with a blinding headache, as nearly all of it was to essentially change his mind. This time, there was grey swirled in with the black. While he hadn't understood, he was in too much pain to ask about it. The break they had to take was twice as long.

When the headache finally eased, all he wanted was ice water, to both lie in as well as chug. He felt like he was on fire.

"Your magic is healing the attack, and will be uncomfortable for a while."

"Yeah, no kidding." He uncovered his eyes, the sunlight no longer causing him pain. "I just need another minute or two. So, what's the next step?"

"There are two more for now, and they will be much more difficult. The next will be the worst. The bindings on your magical core are very strong, and if broken completely, the backlash could very well kill every one of us, yourself included. For that reason, we won't be removing it entirely. Instead, we are going to crack it, so that it will slowly release your magic without overwhelming your system."

"So, there will be no backlash, then?" Harrison asked worriedly. He didn't want anyone getting hurt.

"Everyone into position!" Thortac called out to everyone, promptly ignoring the question. The other half of the goblins moved into place as a second ring around the first.

The moment they began chanting, Harrison's world exploded. He screamed and thrashed and tried curling in on himself, only to find that he had no control over his body. There was no time or room for panic to settle in, as every thought was obliterated and thoroughly consumed with searing pain.

Eventually, the chanting stopped and a high pitched screech sounded, followed by the undeniable sound of an explosion. Everything turned white.

When Harrison woke, he did not see the sky, nor did he feel the grass beneath him. Instead, he saw stone and felt soft, cool fabric. He was back at Gringotts. They were done! They'd finished! And he wasn't dead! Right?

He sat up and immediately stopped his internal celebration. He was in an infirmary, but he was certainly not alone. Most of the goblins that helped him were lying in beds, most of which were unconscious, but all of which were bandaged in some form or another. "I'm so sorry!" He whispered desperately, tears clouding his otherwise perfect vision. "What went wrong?"

"They will heal." Griphook's voice said behind him.

He jumped. "Griphook! What happened? They were only going to crack the binding! How did it completely break? This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Griphook sat on the foot of his bed. "That's all they did. It wasn't broken entirely. They prepared for this. Granted, the level of your magic was stronger than anticipated, but no one died. In truth, that was rather surprising. They will recover. The remaining rituals needed will-"

"NO! No more!" Harrison gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "I will not put anyone else in that kind of danger ever again!"

The goblin raised an eyebrow. "As I was saying, the remaining rituals needed will be put off until your holiday break. It will give you time to naturally reabsorb enough of your magic to withstand it, as well as giving my coworkers enough time to recuperate fully, and prepare better. With any luck, the cracked binding will be able to be removed entirely without a death toll."

"This isn't funny! I nearly killed them all!"

"Do not worry, Harrison. Believe it or not, this is not your fault." He bared his fangs in a demented grin. "Besides, it will make the inevitable Fall Of Dumbledore that much sweeter."

He sighed. "I guess. So, how long do I need to stay here?" Through his short life, he'd spent way too much time in infirmaries. Not even ten minutes awake, and he was already itching to leave.

"When you have been cleared by a healer, you may go. Thortac is unavailable, but Ironclaw will examine you."

"Will she be okay?" He asked, blinking back his tears. She may not be the sweetest person alive, but he adored her just the same. "Please tell me she'll be okay!"

Griphook smiled, this time it was not terrifying at all. "My mate is strong. She will be fine."

His mate?! Merlin, that just makes it worse! Normally, he'd be blaming himself for all of it, but he knew the blame lay elsewhere. Specifically with Dumbledore. "I swear to you that I will kill him for this."

--

Ironclaw was astounded that Harrison was awake at all, let alone in such good health. While he had wanted to keep the boy for tests, there was absolutely no medical reason to keep him, and was made perfectly aware that it wasn't going to happen.

The thought of being released put Harrison in a much better mood, even if he did have to go back to Hogwarts in two days. The ritual had left him and the others unconscious for several days. They were worried that he would not wake in time for the train.

"Griphook,"Harrison began awkwardly. "There are a couple of things I want to go over before I leave here..."

"Go on," came the reply.

"First, how am I to go back to school, knowing that no one can understand me? I can't stay completely silent. They'll give me failing grades. For that matter, why can't I speak in English?"

"As both my mate and Ironclaw have mentioned, natural healing only fixes things that are imperative to your health. Vocal cords, while useful, are not a necessity for a healthy body. That being said, I have received a package from His Majesty that may aid you." He pulled out a necklace box. Nestled inside was indeed a silver chained necklace with two different charms. One charm was a shield and sword, the goblin crest. The second was a coiled snake with onyx eyes. "The goblin crest is the protection we spoke about. The snake, however, I was unfamiliar with before reading the accompanying note. In essence, you simply nudge the snake with your magic and it's mouth will open. When this happens, anything you say will be translated to whatever language is needed for whoever wears one of these." He then pointed to the strange silver semicircles that still lay in the box.

"Brilliant!" Harrison smiled. "What are they?"

"It is my understanding that they are a muggle fashion called ear cuffs. Something like fake earrings. When someone wears one of these, they will understand you in whatever language they wish, or need, to hear." There were about twenty-five cuffs.

"This is perfect!" He said happily. Before his next question, he paused. "Now, I know that mum and James' Wills were hidden, but are you able to get them read? Well, not mum's, since she's alive somewhere, but James' at least? But before you do that, is there any way to have everyone mentioned in said Wills to come in here for a cleansing like mine? I don't want to be here, but I'm more than willing to pay for them. Just... maybe wait till I'm at school and have them summoned on urgent business or something? Oh, wait! Since mum is presumed dead, hers can be read anyway, right? I really want them both heard so that all of this makes sense."

Griphook smirked. "I do enjoy the way you think. One would think you were one of my kinsman."

Harrison feigned hurt and swiped imaginary tears away. "But I am! Thortac said I was a goblin in all but blood! I'm gonna tell her you said I wasn't!"

His jaw dropped when he heard something that few humans had. Griphook was laughing. Not a chuckle, like some had heard, but a full on belly laugh.

When the laughter died out, and Harrison was finally able to collect himself, he regained his excitement over the gifts. "Can I go test one? Like, on a human? I know some work here."

Griphooks' eyes lit up slightly. "There is one who works here that you know well. One of your fellow Tri-Wizard Champions. One Miss-"
Miss?

"Fleur?! That's perfect! She can test it in English and French! When did she move here? I thought she was going back to France with Gabby? I'd love to see... Shit. Can you recast my glamours? I can't until I get back to school."

"Harrison, you don't fully understand the term emancipated, do you?" There was no condescension in his words, but he did feel kind of stupid. "As an adult, there is no longer a magical trace on you. You are free to use your magic as you wish, barring anything illegal, of course."

He gaped and pulled his wand out of his pocket. That thrum of life was never going to get old. The warmth that enveloped him, hugging him from the inside out. Just as he pointed the wand at himself, Griphook shouted. "No! Wait!"

"What's wrong?" He asked, slightly panicked.

"Despite being an exceptional wandmaker, Ollivander was partially incorrect about his favorite quote. The wand does not choose the wizard. The wand chooses the magic it will best respond to. Your magic has changed drastically. If you had attempted to use that wand on your scars, you may have blown yourself up."

Okay, bad idea. "Thanks for stopping me, then. I haven't been feeling very suicidal lately." It had been meant as a joke but in that moment, Harrison realized that it was true. Suicide was something that had been in the back of his mind for years, and now...? It just wasn't there anymore. "So... Could you cast the glamour? Just make me look like me, but no visible scars?"

With a quick nod, the goblin began waving his hand.

He could feel the familiar ripple of the glamour he'd become so accustomed to. "Excellent. Shall we go on a hunt for a French beauty, then?"

"Come," Griphook stood and beckoned him to follow. "I know where she is."

Chapter 5

As they walked through the lobby, several people began staring and pointing and whispering. Through the annoying chatter, one melodious voice stood out. "'Arry!"

"I'll bet you a knut that she runs over here like a total goof and hugs me." He joked.

"Agreed," Griphook nodded. "One knut. She is too professional for that."

Not when it comes to friends, he thought sneakily.

True to form, as they drew near her desk, she looked around for customers, and when she saw none, she bolted out of her seat. Nearly toppling them both to the floor, she hugged him tightly. "Oh, 'Arry! 'Ow 'ave you been? I 'ave missed you!"

He returned her enthusiastic hug. To Griphook, he spoke. "Told you. You owe me a knut."

"You speak snake?" Fleur gasped excitedly. "I 'ad no idea! What did you say?"

Rather than say more, he held up one of the little cuffs and gestured to her ear.

She shrugged and let him put it on. "It is simple, but pretty. I like it. Thank you."

"It's a magic cuff. So people can understand me speak."

Her eyes widened comically. "C'est magnifique! Quand as-tu appris le francais, petit chameur de dragon? Tu es plein de surprises, non?"

"Well, since I have no idea what you just said, I'm guessing the translating works perfectly fine. No, Fleur, I don't speak French. Try to focus on English... Okay, how do I sound now?"

"Amazing," she breathed, touching the silver cuff, then stopped. "'Arry? Why do you need such a thing? The magic is incredible, but why is it necessary?"

Shit. Uh... "My vocal cords have been cursed. Hissing doesn't require them, and I was already a parselmouth." He shrugged it off as best he could, and since the goblins had an excuse prepared, why not use it? "Your English has gotten much better, Fleur. Still having trouble with the letter 'h', but much better all the same."

"They do not work at all?" Her crystal blue eyes welled with tears. "'Ow did this 'appen?"

"Don't worry, Fleur. It's fine. I have a bunch of these, so I can still talk to people and my schoolwork won't be affected."

She still looked upset, but played it off well. "I suppose that is all that matters, yes? And what do you mean I still 'ave problems with my pronunciation? I will 'ave you know, I am complimented daily for my progress!"

He put his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No need for scary flowers!"

Her tinkling laughter was cut off by a wizard clearing his throat by her desk. She groaned quietly. "Come back and see me. We will 'ave dinner tomorrow!"

"Perfect! Keep the cuff. Bye!" Well, that was all the proof he needed. "Thanks, Griphook. I'm going to head out, but I'll probably see you when I pick her up tomorrow."

"Of course," he said easily, pulling a knut out of his pocket. "And a deal is a deal, Mr. Potter."

Despite knowing that was no longer his name, in public it still would be. After all, it was his middle name. That was strange, knowing that he'd been called by his middle name all his life in lieu of his last name. He wondered who came up with the fake middle name he'd grown up with. Harry James. It just didn't sound right. Harrison Potter. That not only sounded better to him, but it felt right, deep down. The thought that someone changed literally everything about him, drove him absolutely mad. It didn't take a genius to know that Dumbledore was behind everything, but he preferred to keep going as though he had no idea... Until he had concrete proof. Then he, along with the support of the Goblin Nation, would bring that 'lemon drop sucking arsehole' to slow crippling justice.

It had been decided between himself and Griphook, that they would make no moves against him until everyone listed in his parent's Wills was given a full health check and cleansing if necessary. It was going to be necessary. Griphook advised him to speak in hypotheticals until they had their proof. Without it, everything said could be construed as slander. It was easier if everything was thought of that way, so that they were less likely to say something stupid.

Besides, he could think of no one sneakier than Lucius Malfoy, and if he really was on Harrison's side, then anything he came up with would doubtlessly be much better and more painful than anything he could come up with on his own.

That was still astonishing to think. If nearly everyone he knew had been spelled and compelled, then what were they really like? Severus and Lucius had Draco. They had been together. Would they be together again? If so, what about Narcissa? Why would anyone force a gay man to marry a woman? It had been done to his mum and James, but to what end? What was the point of it all?

--

Harrison decided to put effort into his appearance from now on. Despite only having bought a weeks worth of clothes and calling it quits, for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to feel good about the way he looked. So... he decided to do something totally out of character. He asked for a favor.

As Griphook was Fleur's boss, it would ultimately be up to him to decide.

"You should know me well enough by now that I don't ask for... well, anything really. Besides, I'm pretty sure you'll actually be happy with my reasoning." He gave a goofy pout. "Please?"

The goblin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, do tell. I could use a laugh."

"You made it quite obvious that I looked like a street urchin, and there is no one better than Fleur to help me with that. If she is stuck here and can't help me, then I'll be wearing the same ratty clothes that you were so desperate to burn. Until Yule break. I only bought a few outfits, and I highly doubt you care very much for my present appearance. This is how little I know about clothes." He didn't mention that he'd intentionally worn stupid clothes, just for this purpose. He wanted Griphook to give Fleur the day off, and this would be his best bet on getting that done.

He grimaced. "I see. And why, may I ask, do you not enlist another friend for the task?"

"Who? Everything we've discovered is literal proof that I can't trust any of those arse kissing, thieving bastards." The desk began to rattle. Whoa, Harrison. Bring it back. Have some decorum. "Sorry about that. In any case, I don't think I have any friends left."

"How long will this take?" Griphook sighed, admitting defeat. "I can spare her half the day."

"You'd have to ask her. Honestly, I have no idea." That part was true. He wasn't sure, but he had a strong suspicion that he would end up getting his way. "The only time I've ever gone shopping for clothes that weren't my uniform was the other day. Wait! What if, instead of giving her the day off, you outsourced her job for the day? As such, I will pay you for the day, and treat her for her time."

"If Miss Delacour is amenable to the idea, I see no reason to deny your request." He gave Harrison's clothes another glance, visibly shuddering.

He'd deliberately bought them this morning. Dark green track pants with big silver snaps on the entire outer length of both sides and a purple t-shirt with bright orange lettering that read 'Always. - Rickman'. Who Rickman was, he had no idea. It was from some second hand muggle shop. Even he wasn't that bad with clothes. Though, now that he decided to just hire Fleur for the day, he felt kind of stupid. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now.

Naturally, she was thrilled. At the same time, disgusted by Harrison's... attire. "I sincerely 'ope that this is not the best you can do! You should 'ave come to me sooner, 'Arry!"

Thankfully, she was wearing the cuff, even though they had not been scheduled to meet until that night at eight. "Fleur, I'm just hoping you can help me. I have no clue what I'm doing." That was only about eighty percent true. He knew what colors did and didn't go together and jeans matched pretty much anything. What he was wearing at the moment, he knew, was a massive no-no. In his defense, he'd done it on purpose.

"That much is obvious!" She covered her eyes in mock fear. "Monsieur Griphook, I will see you in the morning. This travesty will not go unanswered, that I assure you!"

"I should certainly hope not." Was all the goblin said.

As soon as they were outside, Harrison yanked the offending track pants by the waistband and all of the buttons snapped open. He banished them with his brand new wand and smirked at her. "I'm not completely impaired." He rolled his eyes and held his leg out for inspection. "See? Jeans. They match with everything."

"You are so very sneaky, 'Arry," she giggled, dragging him by the hand and down the alley. "Okay, so, what are you looking for, and what do you like?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm not sure what I like. And, I want two sets of robes for casual daily wear and a set of dress robes. I finally outgrew the ones from the ball last year. For the most part, though, I want muggle clothes. Please tell me you can help?"

She gave an affronted look. "Of course I can! As we speak, I am trying to figure out what colors will look best on you. The answer to that is simple. Cold colors. Avoid oranges and yellows at all costs, maybe some reds, but darker shades. We will find you a suitable wardrobe before the day is through."

When they got to the first store, they bought his robes first. They were the easiest to deal with. Black dress robes, black casual robes and midnight blue casual robes. They were finished in under an hour. He had Fleur ask that they be sent to his room at the Leaky.

"Alright, where to next?"

"We will be going to the one shop in this alley that 'as decent muggle clothes." Her tone was very business-like, as she pointed toward a store that Harrison had never noticed before. It was a small place, with long narrow windows, but was cheerfully painted light blue with white and dark blue accents. The bell overhead chimed lightly when they entered. Things like this were why magic would never cease to amaze him. Inside the meager facade was... jarring. It looked nothing like he would have anticipated. White marble floors with matching columns, light grey walls and over a hundred racks that bore every color and style clothing Harrison could imagine. At least with muggle stores, the clothes were separated by size or gender. This didn't seem to be the case, but it made no difference to Fleur, who was pulling him along with a mischievous grin.

"Merlin! How do you expect to find anything in here?!" Harry gaped at the enormity of the place. "Do you have a map? Or are there baskets of breadcrumbs that we're supposed to follow?"

She looked at him with confusion. "Is that some kind of muggle tracking?"

He snorted. "Sort of. It's a long story."

To figure out what would suit him best, she had him try out a bunch of 'looks'. Preppy? No. Athletic? Not horrible. No. Nerdy? No. Skater? Closer, but not quite. Grunge? Nope. Playboy? Maybe a little.

After over a dozen 'looks', the blonde finally settled on what kinds of clothes would work best for him.

"I 'ave figured out what you want," she declared with a triumphant clap of her dainty hands. "And I know just what to do!"

Without asking his sizes or anything, she was loading his arms down with dozens of interchangeable pieces of clothes. She insisted he model everything. For once, he truly didn't mind. He was having the time of his life, preening under the praise of strangers.

The majority of the clothes were either black, or damn close. The first look he put on was a pair of really tight black skinny jeans, a royal blue v-neck t-shirt with a fitted collarless leather jacket. Next was a pair of artfully shredded dark wash jeans with two long chains that criss crossed in the back and hooked by his front pockets, matched with a black shirt that had black and white striped sleeves. Long, of course. His short sleeve days were behind him.

Rather than get all mopey and maudlin over it like he would have before, he got pissed off. And pissed off Harrison was dominating his outward appearance, which he didn't mind at all. And, if the reactions of random shoppers were any indication, they didn't mind either.

In the end, he left with no less that twenty complete outfits and his money pouch had to refill itself halfway through his transaction. He kept out some the first one he'd tried on so he could wear it to King's Cross the next day. That'll shock a few people.

They wound up making two more stops after their shopping was finished. The first was to a salon.

He told Fleur exactly what to say to the stylist so that he didn't have to use a cuff on a stranger. To his surprise, the woman actually used a pair of scissors and not her wand, to give him an edgy cut. She then added a few less-than-subtle streaks in his hair that were startlingly close to the Avada Kedavra curses' color. The woman assured him that unlike muggle dyes, this wouldn't fade or simply grow out. It had to be removed.

His final stop was made mostly alone, as Fleur had to leave, but not before transfiguring a random business card into an ID that said he was eighteen. She dropped him off in muggle London. More precisely, at a muggle tattoo parlor. While there, he got two piercings in his tongue, his right eyebrow and both nipples done. He wanted a tattoo, but he wasn't sure where to get it, so that none of the glamours would be effected. The nipple rings didn't make a difference because the glamours didn't cover those areas specifically. He couldn't do anything on his back, and would likely never be able to, considering the layers upon layers of scarring.

'It's okay,' he thought with a snarl. 'I'll get my revenge.'

A few hours later, he left the shop alone with a very sore neck, and a few hundred pounds less in his wallet.

The Gryffindor Golden boy is dead.

Chapter 6

The next morning, Harrison was waiting for ten o'clock so the barrier for platform 9 3/4 to open. He had donned on a pair of dragon hide combat boots and wrapped studded leather straps around them along with a few random rings and a new watch to complete the look he had chosen the day before.

Rather than wait for everyone else to show up, he decided to get on the train right away so he could have his own compartment. When settled, he spelled the door shut and pulled a few of the books he'd bought the day before out of his trunk. As hazy as his memory of the rituals were, he was only able to recall a few, but some of his natural abilities had been restored. One of which, was his iedetic memory. By the time he felt the train shift, he had read two books cover to cover. It was a strange feeling, being able to read something and remember exactly what it said, word for word. Well, if nothing else comes from this, his grades would certainly improve.

For a split second, he worried that it was an unfair advantage, but then shut that away just as quickly. It wasn't like he was using spells or potions to give himself the advantage. He was just unlocking what he already had. Even some muggles wound up with that ability, so no, he didn't feel guilty.

"Don't you think that if he was here, he'd be sitting with you?" Came an incredulous voice from the corridor. "Merlin, don't you both have your stupid prefects meeting? Like now? Climb out of his arse already!"

He knew that voice. George Weasley. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Oh, good, money grubbers.

"Oh, shut up, Fred," came the whiny voice of their youngest brother. "We-"

"For the last bloody time, I. Am. Not. Fred."

"Well, how are we supposed to know the difference?" Hermione's voice said acidly.

"Just let it go, Georgie," was Fred's defeated tone. "Come on. We'll see if Lee or someone has an empty seat."

Something in Harrison's chest clenched. They might be after him for his money, but the resigned tone in Fred's words didn't sit well with him. After all, the statements from the bank hadn't mentioned the twins, just the younger Weasley's. Even if Harry had given them his Tri-Wizard winnings. How many times had they tried to refuse it? Was it part of a ploy to make him think they were too magnanimous to take it, so he'd be more inclined to push them to do just that? If that were the case, why had they insisted on giving him a full third of their profits? That was a lot of money to start out with, but with their particular skills and intelligence, it was going to turn into a hell of a lot more. And very quickly.

Maybe he'd hear them out. But the second they said or did something stupid, he'd make them leave. No matter how mad he was, it wasn't going to make him try to take back his winnings. They really were brilliant inventors. Besides, it was a verbal contract, so still legally binding. Beyond that, though, he'd never give them another knut.
Just the thought of cutting off the rest of the leeches caused a vindictive smile to cross his face.

With his mind made up, he pulled out his wand and cast his patronus.

"Can you guide people to me? I know you can pass messages, but they won't understand parseltongue."

The stag huffed and nodded.

"Perfect. I need Fred and George Weasley. No one else can follow them."

The stag walked through the closed door with a puff of silvery mist.

While he waited, he dug around for two of the ear cuffs and quickly stowed the rest away. Out of the twenty-five, he'd only given one to Fleur, and now these two. He'd have to give them to all of his professors, which would leave plenty for anyone he could weed out as a potential friend or ally. None of his loyalty bound 'friends' would get them, nor would the Headmaster. For them, he would use his translating quill. He wasn't going to waste something so precious on people so vile.

"I have no idea," said George, just outside the door.

Tap tap tap.

Taking half a second to gather himself, he took a deep breath and cast a finite on all the locking spells he'd put up.

He rolled his neck as they opened the door, trying to relieve the strange tension that had emerged.

They stopped in the doorway, Fred with a look of astonishment, and George just grinned. Was Fred blushing?

Without preamble, he held out the cuffs. If things went pear shaped, the cuffs could simply be removed from their memories. He pointed at his own ear and waited, crossing his arms.

"Thanks?" George said hesitantly, but put it on regardless.

"How have you been?" Fred asked, adjusting his cuff around his cartilage. "You didn't respond to any of our owls. We were worried."

"Yeah, we've done a lot of work over the summer. We've got nearly a quarter your investment back in profit. Still got a long way to go before we can open up shop, but with a bit of luck and some Weasley magic, we'll all have what we want by the time you take your OWL's."

"Have a seat." Worried. Right. We'll see.

"Er, Harry?" Fred asked. "Why do you sound so different?"

"No idea what the cuffs make me sound like. Quite frankly, I don't care either. We need to talk. Before we get into it, though, I need Vows."

They gaped. "Of course, Harry." They spoke in unison, their confusion plain. In George though, he noted a bit of excitement.

After Harrison outlined the specifics of the Vows, they parroted them without pause.

He recast the locking spells and added several more for silence and privacy and two that were specifically designed to make people forget about that particular door should they touch it. "I have questions, and you two will answer them to the best of your ability. After that, I'll decide whether or not this conversation goes any further. Deal?"

Again, no hesitation.

He rolled his neck. The ache wasn't from the tattoo, because he had healed that immediately after he got back into the Leaky Cauldron. Back to his plan.

While Veritaserum was illegal to possess, it wasn't illegal to let people think they had it. With that logic, he rummaged around his trunk for a vial that contained only water. The real potion was colorless, odorless and tasteless. They'd never know the difference.

"Tongues out. I want honesty." This time, they looked at each other for a moment before complying. The threat of pure honesty made them pause, Harrison noted, pushing his unease behind the mask. He waited for the 'potion' to take effect. "First thing's first. What do you know about arrangements between Ron, Ginny and the Headmaster?" He decided not to include Hermione. They didn't talk all that often, and they were more likely to know about their siblings than her.

"I don't know about any." Fred said easily.

"Neither do I." George said.

"Have you ever heard the Headmaster ask anyone to get close to me?"

"No." George shook his head.

"Yes," Fred admitted.

Harrison raised a pierced eyebrow. "Who was it, and what was meant to come of it?"

"I overheard Dumbledore telling Ron to make up with you last year so that he could keep a close eye on you. I have no idea why though. What he did say, was that the animosity between you two had served its' purpose and that if he wanted to keep getting... something... then it was time to make up and move on. I don't know what he was talking about, but Ron just shrugged and said 'The peace was nice while it lasted.'"

Dumbledore staged his fight with Ron? Why?

Wonder later. Questions now. "Has Dumbles ever offered either of you anything to get close to me?" This was one answer he was afraid of getting.

"No,"

"No,"

Thank Merlin! He breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you have any idea where your mum might have gotten ahold of Amortentia?"

Now they were really confused, but replied regardless.

"Our family couldn't afford something like that. Besides, it's illegal."

"Mum is good at brewing though." Fred pointed out.

"True enough, but why would she brew that?"

"She and Dumbles have been dosing me with a variant of that potion since the first time I showed up at the Burrow."

"What?" George shouted.

"But you were twelve!" Fred gasped.

"They targeted it towards your sister. During the summer, Molly was dosing me, but during the school year Dumbles took over. It started off watered down, but over the last couple of years, its' gotten less and less diluted."

George's shoulders slumped, while Fred sagged forward, leaning on his knees.

"Harry," he began shakily. "We had no idea, I swear."

"None," George agreed.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Harrison smiled briefly at them. "Since you're still under oath, I have a lot to talk to you about. First and foremost, please stop calling me Harry."

Their shock and confusion was displayed identically. They took out their wands. "Who are you?"

He wasn't offended by their reaction, nor was he afraid of their drawn wands. "I'm still me. Sort of. No, not really. My name isn't Harry, it's Harrison. Pleased to officially meet you."

George snorted. "Oh, charmed, we're sure."

"Merlin," Fred said. "We thought you were polyjuiced or something!"

"Come to think of it," George smirked. "That would have been a terrible disguise. Why do you look so different?"

"And are you finally going to tell us why you sound like someone else and your lips don't match what you say?"

"That, my red headed friends, is a long story. It's a good thing we still have five hours left before we get to Hogsmeade. You might as well get comfortable." He never did say anything about the abuse from the Dursley's or who his real father was, but he did tell them everything else.

This was going to be an interesting term.

--

Harrison decided against putting on his full uniform, opting instead for swapping out his leather jacket for his robe. When properly fastened, it hid his non-regulation clothes entirely. Really, why change into an uncomfortable uniform for two hours? Sort the firsties and eat. Why does that require a tie? Especially when everyone just lounges in their common rooms for the rest of the night.

There was also the issue of changing his shirt in front of the twins. Nope. That wasn't going to happen.

No one noticed him since he'd pulled his hood up and kept his head down. Yes, he looked different, and everyone was going to see him eventually, but he wanted to wait to... reveal Harrison. That was something he noticed he'd been doing lately. Everything said and done before the rituals was Harry, everything after was, and would forever be, Harrison. It didn't matter that he wasn't going by his real name yet. He still wasn't Harry anymore, not to himself at least.

When he took his place in the Great Hall, he made sure to sandwich himself between the twins so that Hermione and the youngest Weasley's couldn't box him in. Fred and George also got the rest of the quidditch team to surround him even more.

"So, how was your summer, Harry?" Angelina Spinnet asked politely.

The team got cuffs with a brief 'I-got-cursed' excuse. None of them seemed overly surprised, and Katie thought it was handy for speaking plainly without the risk of anyone hearing.

"You could be talking about taking down the ministry right in front of the Minister, and he'd have no idea!" She was saying excitedly. "It's all very James Bond. Almost like a secret language."

"You've got a point," Harrison mused with a snort. "Goblins speak parseltongue though. All the ones I met, at least."

Angelina shuddered. "Goblins are terrifying."

If Harrison were able to laugh, not hiss, he would have. "They can be intimidating, but come on! So can anyone, given the right motivation. Besides, I spent a fair bit of time at Gringotts over the past couple of weeks and they're good people."

"Okay, okay," she conceded. "So, what's the deal with this whole Harry-finally-realized-he's-hot thing? Whether they said anything or not, we're all curious. You usually dress in bad clothes that are way too big, and now poof! you got a sense of style and turned yourself into a human pin cushion. Don't get me wrong, it's really hot, but what happened?"

He stuck his double pierced tongue out at her. "I ran into Fleur Delacour a few days ago." He shrugged. "You think goblins are scary? For a bit, I feared for my life. Apparently, she's been dying to get her claws into me. My account manager was just as eager for me to burn every scrap of clothes I owned. This probably wasn't the look he expected, but again, even he didn't say a word to Fleur. I think he's scared of her."

The team burst out laughing.

And were promptly given the stink eye by much of the staff. Sorting. Right.

Their laughter was immediately muffled by hands or burying faces into neighbors' shoulders.

For the most part, they paid attention to the sorting, waiting for it all to be over so they could eat and go to the dorms.

Then a pink clad toad got up to speak. By the time she was finished, hushed whispers were scattered throughout the Hall. Harrison was not happy. With everything else going on, now they were all being spied on by a ministry official? What in Merlin's name is happening here?

When the feast began, Harrison found that he had no appetite.

After a while, when everything was cleared away from the long tables, Ron and Hermione stood up and loudly insisted that all first years follow them. They were prefects after all.

Harrison rolled his eyes and waited for them all to leave before getting up. George was staying with him, as per their plan. He had to get the professors together to avoid disrupting each of his classes with explanations.

"Excuse us, Professors?" George began politely. "Could we have a moment of your time?"

Half of them had been standing or getting ready to leave. They stopped.

"Just the ones who have Harry in their classes," he corrected himself.

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Trelawney, Sprout, Hagrid, Flitwick, Sinistra, the pink toad and Dumbledore stayed.

Why did Dumblefuck stay? He's not even a teacher!

"What is it, my boys?" Dumblefuck asked, his grandfatherly tone kind.

"Well, see," George began. "Harry here was cursed mute over the summer. Now, he can still speak parseltongue because it doesn't require, what was it? Oh, yeah, vocal cords. 'Cuz, you know, it's just hissing. He was given these little ear things that will translate it all to English. There are enough for all his professors, and mine of course. The only reason I have one is so that I can run around being his translator for everyone else."

The eight faces started at him with a range of different emotions. His HoH, along with Hagrid, Flitwick and Sinistra, were stunned and seemingly horrified, while Trelawney and Dumbledore were confused. Snape smirked, but quickly hid behind his cool facade, and the Toad just looked suspicious.

Several questions cropped up, but they were interrupted.

Hem. Hem. The Toad shifted her violently pink cardigan. "Is that so, Mr. Potter?"

Harrison nodded.

"And how could we be expected to take your word for it? You are, after all, known for causing mischief." The Toad actually had the nerve to smile at him!

His eyebrows rose. "Georgie. Snape has a medi-wizard licence, right? Probably because of the potential for accidents in Potions."

George shrugged. "Seems likely, why?"

"Have him cast a diagnostic on my vocal cords. It'll prove to the Great Pink Toad that I'm not lying." He replied simply.

The Charms professor cleared his throat.

"Professor Snape, could you cast a diagnostic on his throat? You know, for proof?"

Snape sighed, but made his way over regardless. His class would be so much more peaceful if the boy really were truly silenced. Before he could do anything, he was handed a strange metal ring.

"Could you take yours off for a moment?" Harrison asked his fellow student.

With a shrug, he wriggled off his cuff. "Sure, just let me know when to put it back on."

Harrison rushed to explain to the potions master. "Sir, I have not lied, only bent the truth. I am mute, that was not a lie. I, however was not cursed. I know that your diagnostic will show you what happened, but I beg you, sir. Tell them it was from a curse."

Snape hesitated, a curious look on his face, but again, hid it right away. "Expose your throat, Mr. Potter."

Upon revealing the tattoo of a black and white version of the Hungarian Horntail he'd fought last year, several of the adults started whispering amongst themselves.

Snape rolled his eyes and cast the charm.

Scanning the parchment, he hitched his chin once. "He speaks the truth, or rather, Mr. Weasley does. I'm sure that all our classes will be much quieter from this point forward."

Harrison huffed, readjusting his collar. He handed out the cuffs, having intentionally counted out enough of them in advance that there was no extra for the Headmaster. "Sorry that I don't have enough. These were all I could get." He waited for Snape to translate.

Talking to his... father, even if the older man didn't know who he was, was strange. This man literally bore him. With Draco Malfoy. His TWIN. He didn't know what to say, so he simply did his best to act as if nothing extraordinary was happening.

"Quite alright, my boy. I'm sure we'll figure it out." A glimpse of anger mottled his features, but was dismissed by his stupid twinkling eyes and small strained smile. "Now, how did this come about? Who cursed you?"

Feigning innocence, he made up a lie on the spot. "I don't know! All I know is that one minute, I'm walking into the Leaky Cauldron, and the next thing I know, my throat's on fire and I can't talk. I never even heard the spell being cast!" It would be harder to investigate an unknown curse than a known one. He liked that the headmaster couldn't understand him. Maybe then the old bastard wouldn't try to get him alone.

Someone translated, but he wasn't paying attention. He was too wrapped up in the fact that Snape was still standing next to his own son, and didn't even know it. Harrison wondered if he was hoping for Yule or dreading it.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore was saying. "This is quite a clever solution to your problem. However, as Headmaster, I must say that I am rather concerned about how this will affect your schoolwork, and indeed, your magic."

Ignoring the urge to groan, he cast an aguamenti. He did his best to make it look just a little bit difficult. After what he did at Gringotts, he knew he had to dial back how much magic he put into his spells. Apparently, because of all of the blocks and bindings, even regular spells were much harder than they should have been, and he was using more than twice the effort as his peers for the same results. Since the ritual, everything he'd attempted was gloriously simple and didn't wear him out nearly as fast.

"Would it be alright if I went up to the Tower now? I'm about ready for bed, and George is going to have to explain all of this again to the rest of the Gryffindors." Of course, that wasn't true. He was wide awake, unable to remember the last time he'd been able to fall asleep naturally before one or two in the morning. More often than not, his sleep was potion induced, but unfortunately, he was running dangerously low. He only had about two doses left. Damn. He usually didn't go through it like this, but it was really no wonder. Twice a week was ordinarily enough to get by. Just long enough between doses that he didn't develop an addiction, and he was alert enough to function. Since his coma, he'd had to use it nightly. The nightmares were too much, combined with the fact that he'd had insomnia for as long as he could remember. There were times, more frequently as of late, that he would go two or three days without sleep before he would drop from exhaustion and be forced awake a few hours later by visions of 'uncle' Vernon attacking him.

Professor McGonagall agreed. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Have a good night."

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to say something, so Harrison waved and poorly covered a fake yawn.

He and George walked out of the Great Hall. This was going better than he expected

"Potter!" came Snape's cold voice from behind them.

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary

-Just a recap-
Professor McGonagall agreed. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Have a good night."
Dumbledore looked like he wanted to say something, so Harrison waved and poorly covered a fake yawn.
He and George walked out of the Great Hall. This was going better than he expected.
"Potter," came Snape's cold voice from behind them.

Damn. He froze mid-step and waited.

"Mr. Weasley, return to your dormitory. Your services are no longer required."

"Yes, sir," George said, giving Harrison a smile of encouragement, before bounding up the stairs two at a time.

"I'm waiting." Was all Snape said.

Harrison turned and slowly walked into the empty classroom that his father was indicating. "Yes, sir?"

"Cursed?" His heavily lidded eyes boring into Harrison's. He glanced at the parchment. "'Heavily damaged due to strangulation, date July second, by Vernon Dursley.'

Now, care to explain why you lied to the majority of the staff? Or why you felt the need to force me to do the same? Who is this Dursley person?"

Shit. He hadn't thought this through. "I was mugged earlier in the summer. I didn't even know his name."

"Why is it when I ask you to explain a lie, you feel the need to do so with another?" Snape was not pleased.

"Sir, I don't understand the relevance. Who cares how it happened? It did, and now it's over. It makes no difference." He was not prepared to get into this. Not now. Maybe not ever. It was hard enough to tell Thortac some of the details, and she wasn't his unknowing parent! There's no way in hell that he was going to tell Snape the truth. Especially not after he found out who he was.

Snape ground his teeth, but flung out several privacy charms. "Satisfied? You will tell me."

"With all due respect, sir, I would rather not."

"At this point in time, Potter, I could not be convinced to care less about what you would and would not rather do. I am not in the habit of repeating myself." Snape's annoyance was palpable.

"Nor am I, sir. Good night."

The spell was out before he could look away. "Legillimens!"

Harry was trying to gently push Hedwig out of the window when Vernon stormed into the brightly lit kitchen. The whale of a man slammed him into the wall by his throat. The clock fell. Blood covered the left side of his face. He was losing consciousness. Vernon was talking about roasting Hedwig.

The professor pulled back, breathing heavily.

"What did you do to me?!" Harrison demanded, with as much venom as he could muster. Had he seen that? There was no way. He couldn't have.

"You live..." he panted. "With Petunia Evans?"

Oh, no. He did see that. "How dare you?"

"I will be seeing the Headmaster about this."

Shit shit shitshitshitshit! "Stop!"

"I beg your pardon?" Snape sneered.

"He's bloody well known for years!" He froze. Why did he say that?

He did what any fifteen year old would do. He ran.

--

Harrison sighed heavily upon seeing his timetable the next morning. First up, double potions. 'Of all the bloody luck,' he thought miserably to himself, piling some scrambled eggs onto a piece of toast. Why couldn't he have a day or two to figure out what to say to the man before being subjected to two hours of close quarters?

He was sorely tempted to bang his head on the table, but he didn't need more rumors floating around about his mental state. It was bound to be like second year all over again, considering the fact that he was hissing again. Full time, no less. He wondered how long it would take before the whole 'oh my god, he's evil cuz he can talk to snakes!' crap was going to start back up.

"Why are you being all mopey?" George asked, pulling the toast rack closer. "You were fine a few minutes ago."

He had told the twins about his... conversation with Snape, and they had been outraged that he had been subjected to illegal mental magic. It obviously wasn't the first time, but he certainly hoped it would be the last. Knowing his luck, probably not.

While they knew the majority of the things that had happened, including the fact that his parents weren't really his parents, they didn't know his true lineage. So it made sense that they couldn't understand why Harrison was so firmly set against turning the potions Master in to the authorities. They had easily accepted that he would tell them who his real father was, but not until his father found out.

"Don't worry about it, Georgie. It's just some stuff I have to work out on my own for now."

George didn't reply, but Fred rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "That's okay. You'll tell us when you can."

The acceptance he got from the twins had never changed, but it just seemed to hit Harrison. He wouldn't cry. Why the hell did he want to, though? He rolled his neck to relieve the tension.

"Harry! Mate, why didn't you wake me?" Ron called over the heads of a group of younger years.

He was going to play along until Yule. Nothing else would change until he knew where he stood. "Apologize for me, then please try to get him to go away. I'm playing nice for now."

George nodded. "He says sorry for not waking you, and he woke up too early to get you up. Been in the library for the last couple of hours."

The library didn't open until eight, but he sure as hell didn't know that. Granger was the only reason that the moron even knew where it was at all.

"Why are you talking like that, Harry?" Ron asked, poorly hiding his disgust at the language. "And how come Fred knows what you said?"

"I'm George, you little prat!" he seethed. "And if you had listened last night, you'd know Harry got cursed a couple of weeks ago. I can understand because I have a translator."

"Oh! Is that all?" Ron sagged in relief. "So, where can I get a translator thing?"

Harrison shook his head and raised his hands pleadingly. "Just say sorry, I had to pay a lot of money to the goblins to get the few that I had for the professors and that you used your own money for yours and Freddie's."

He relayed the message.

Ron wasn't happy. "Well, why didn't you get one for your best friend? How else are we supposed to talk? How much are they?"

"Give him a ridiculous number that will shut him up. Honestly, I love the idea of not being alone with him. Even if he wanted to get one with the money he stole from my vaults, he'd never be able to explain how he got so much."

"They're seventy-two galleons and eleven sickles each and we paid for our own when we found out about him being cursed. They had to be ordered from the goblins because it isn't Wizard magic. Harry wanted to get you one, but he got the only ones he could, since Fred and I were the ones that gave him the idea in the first place. We ordered ours first, along with the team, and he got the last of them for the professors to keep up with his class work."

"So the team all has them?! How on Earth did they hear about it before me? I thought we were friends!"

Yeah, friends who don't write. Friends who steal, and lie, and use people for fame and attention. Merlin, with friends like those, who was he to question Voldemort? By that logic, murdering James was probably some kind of demented marriage proposal.

"Hey, Freddie, can you let me borrow your owl later? I have to let Griphook know what we lied about so that he can intervene in case the freckled bastard tries to get someone to buy some. Normally, I'd use Hedwig, but I don't want her intercepted."

He gave a quick nod.

"What did he say?" Ron demanded, his ears turning red.

Fred rolled his eyes. "You realize you're making him feel guilty that he can't help you? He just asked me to apologize for the third time in the last five minutes, over things he can't control. He wants you to know that the goblins should have more after Yule sometime."

Harrison made sure to look ashamed that he couldn't give his 'friend' such costly things.

"So give me one of yours, then!" Ron half shouted. "You don't both need them! You share a brain anyways, so you might as well share the translator too!"

"Grow up, Ron. We are his friends, and when we found out about the curse, we all took our own money so that we could still talk, because we actually listen to the things he says." George said, making sure to keep his voice down. They could see their Transfiguration professor, but had no intention of telling him that.

"Go to hell, you bloody poof-"

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall gasped behind Ron. "How dare you say such things to another student? And family, no less! You are a Prefect, and you will act accordingly, or I will personally strip you of that right! Twenty points from Gryffindor and I will be seeing you this evening for detention. Eight o'clock."

"What?" Ron roared, floored at his punishment. He glared at Harrison. "This is all his fault!"

Harrison was honestly shocked. "Professor, I never said a word to him. I asked the twins to apologize because I didn't have enough cuffs to give him one. The twins bought their own."

"Did they?" She seemed impressed. "Good for you two. They couldn't have been cheap, knowing the goblins."

The twins grinned at her.

Looking away from Ron to avoid laughing, Harrison noticed that they had gathered quite the captive audience. Nearly the entire Hall was staring at the spectacle in front of them.

Hermione chose this moment to walk over to the group. "How dare you?!" She snarled. "You're setting a horrible example for the younger years! You'll be lucky if I don't write to your mother about this!"

"Get bent!" He snarled at her, making sure no one could overhear.

She rolled her eyes and turned back toward Harrison and the twins. "I can't believe he said that! Are you alright, George?"

While George assured her that it wasn't a big deal, and that he wasn't surprised, Harrison spoke with Fred.

"Who is she trying to kid? She's a devout Catholic!"

"What does that mean?" Fred asked curiously.

"It's a muggle religion. Some Catholics, not all of them, mind you, are very prejudiced against gays. I know for a fact that she is, even though her parents aren't. They're very kind and open-minded people. The list of things people can and can't do according to their religion is insanely long. Most Catholics don't follow all the rules because they can be really bigoted, and they lean more toward the whole 'do unto others as you would have others do unto you' type thing. I have no issues with muggle religion, but personally, that's the only religious rule I agree with."

"So, basically," Fred snorted quietly. "She's talking out her arse?"

"One hundred percent."

"Oh, Harry! I only just heard about the attack last night. How are you?" She made a point to look at him while she spoke, unlike Ron, who stared at George for answers.

Before he could reply, she flung herself at him, knocking him into Fred. He grabbed Fred's hand and squeezed tightly, trying to keep from shoving her away in disgust.

"As long as one of you say that I'm fine and don't want to talk about it, I don't care what you say to her besides that."

While he was quite literally commanding the twins, they both knew that he wasn't being rude to them, and would accept if they told him no. Since his blocks and whatnot were broken, he was less meek and no longer needlessly apologetic. Harry would have politely asked them to relay his messages, and thanked them profusely, then apologized for it being necessary. Harrison had done each of these once, yesterday, and none of them thought it bore repeating.

"Are you sure?" She asked him, finally letting go. The concern in her eyes made Harrison respect her acting abilities.

It was like before. When he was still Harry, and she was his best friend. It stung.

He nodded, and got an idea. "Which one of you wants to very loudly announce my thanks for her support in reprimanding Ron for his bigoted ways because I, myself, am as gay as a glittery rainbow? Let's pretend we don't know that she's more homophobic than he is. I'd love to see her reaction." That leaves the added benefit of not being able to be dosed with any more love potions because it would seem awfully suspicious if he proclaimed his love of all things male, to turn around and start snogging she-weasels.

The twins gasped in unison and George smiled. "Allow me," he said devilishly.

Freddy gave him the go-ahead, and ignored the fact that he was blushing slightly.

"Harry said 'thanks for sticking up for me with Ron, because he wants nothing to do with bigots.'"

She smiled.

"Reason being," he continued. "Is because, now this is a direct quote, 'I, myself, am as gay as a glittery rainbow."

Her smile fell as whispers filled the Great Hall. "Is that really what you said?" She asked uncomfortably.

Harrison nodded happily, taking a bite of his toast.

"Oh," she faltered. "That- that's wonderful, Harry. If you'll excuse me... I, I have a meeting to get to. P- uh, Prefects meeting. I'll see you in potions."

"Her face was absolutely priceless. When everything comes out, no pun intended, do you think she'll keep up her act for the sake of saving face, or let her true colors shine through?" Harrison wondered aloud.

"Depends on how much comes out, and how quickly. If it's all at once, she might be so upset that she says something stupid and incriminates herself-" George said simply.

"Whereas, if it goes slowly, she'll have time to change her stories and act accordingly to whatever gets her what she wants." Fred finished. "I'd unleash it all at once. I have a feeling that a lot of people would react before thinking with so much information all at once."

"Messrs Weasley, I think we're in complete agreement. My only issue is when to release it all. I still don't know how the people in my parents Wills are going to react to everything. Unfortunately, a lot of this is going to depend on what the goblins find and fix."

"Speaking of," Fred began hesitantly. "Have you written to Padfoot about this? Any of it, I mean. Obviously, you can spell out everything in a letter, but maybe some of it?"

Harrison sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He'd have to ask Thortac what's wrong with his neck at some point. "I wish I could, but since he's one of the people that are affected by the Wills, I can't risk him asking too many questions yet. No matter what personality alterations are gone, I don't think I'll be able to lie to him about this. I want to talk to him so badly, but I can't afford to let something slip."

The sympathetic look on Fred's face almost pushed him over the edge. It lessened when the older twin rubbed between his shoulder blades comfortingly. "It's alright, we get it."

"Yeah," George agreed. "You don't have to explain it to us. None of that would be easy to deal with. Freddie and I might not have all the answers, but we aren't going to pester you for them like he would. Unlike him, we possess patience."

Harrison snorted. Too true. Sirius was not a patient man, not to say he was an ass about it, but he just didn't like not knowing the full story behind important things. Plus, he really did have that whole puppy dog pout thing down to a science, and Harrison wasn't fond of the idea of lying to him. Hell, keeping everything from him was hard enough. Come Yule break, he was probably going to explode at Harrison for not telling him sooner, but it was better than needlessly adding extra months of pestering onto it all.

That just meant that he had more guilt festering in his gut. Yipee.

"I've got to get to potions. I'll see you guys later." He said resignedly, shouldering his bag.

"Bye, Harry," they said together.

Fred cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as the parslemouth walked away.

--

When Harrison's father finished his spiel about how important this year was, as OWL students, he started a round of rapid-fire questions from the summer reading.

This time, Harrison was fully prepared. He had asked the woman at the apothecary about supplemental potions texts that might be helpful for OWL through NEWT potions students. She had seemed surprised that he was asking for three years worth of information, but gave him a list of about nine or ten books and sent him on is way. He'd already finished three of them, therefore memorizing all the work they'd be going over for the year, plus rereading the first year book that explained the basic reasoning behind various reactions of different ingredients and materials.

"At what point, Potter, should one add the required amount of lavender oil, and what is the amount needed?" Snape crossed his arms.

"Six drops of lavender oil are to be added after precisely eleven and a half hours of simmering untouched."

"Correct. Why untouched?" He prompted.

"If the potion is stirred at all during that point, it will cause the bicorn horn to congeal, thus making the potion essentially a poison due to the reaction of the powder to the basil leaves and the stirring rod. Until it has the eleven and a half hours to become fully incorporated into the mixture, it's dangerously volatile. Should anyone attempt to use a different stirring rod to bypass that reaction, it would cause a minor explosion that gives off noxious fumes."

His jaw dropped slightly. He snapped his mouth closed. "Five points to Gryffindor..." he said, awkwardly.

"Well, what did he say the bloody answer was?" Ron called out, next to him.

Harrison winced at Ron's lack of volume control.

"Five points from Gryffindor for shouting out." Snape said with a sneer. Back on familiar ground. This is good.

Harrison raised his hand. "Sir, I had a thought, and I wanted your opinion."

"This should be good for a laugh. Go on, Potter. Ask your question."

"Of course, its' entirely hypothetical, but I have an idea that might successfully cut down on the simmering time by more than half without the effects."

"You think you can improve a potion? This I have to hear." Snape was close to laughing.

"What if, rather than use a stirring rod, which we already know is dangerous, you use a bicorn horn and decrease the amount of powdered horn? In theory, there would be no risk of explosion or the gas, given that you would essentially be using the ingredient to blend itself in. And decreasing the powder would allow for the essence that would come off the horn itself to make up the difference, while allowing the powder to dissolve more quickly. It's the only ingredient that requires that length of time, and none of the others would be affected by the decreased simmer time."

This time, Snape didn't regain his mask as quickly. Nor did he reply. Instead, he took Harrison's book and cast several wordless charms over it. When nothing happened, he dropped it back on the table with a solid thud. "And just how did you come to that conclusion? And, precisely how much of the essence do you hypothesize would come from the horn if used that way?"

"At the temperature needed, the horn should - again this is theory only - it should give off roughly four drops of pure essence per thirty minutes, dropping the needed powder to about a quarter of the original amount."

Snape's eyes widened. "How much time do you believe it would save?"

"Well, that's the part I can't quite map out, sir. Since the essence wouldn't have to dissolve the way the powder would, we would have to know exactly how long it takes the decreased amount to dissolve on it's own, then factor in exactly how best to break down the stirring to allow the optimal release of essence."

Taking Harrison's quill and parchment, he started scribbling with astonishing speed. After a few minutes of dead silence, he stopped cold. "Mr. Potter..." Snape's eyebrows knit in blatant confusion. "If your hypothesis is correct, you will have successfully made the potion take less than three hours to brew from start to finish."

Snape had never called him Mister before. It was always just Potter. Holy shit. Had he accidentally gotten a shred of respect from the dour man? Holy shit!

"What?!" Hermione shouted. "How? That's not possible!"

He ignored her. "How long have you been working on that?"

"In truth, I haven't been working on it. It was just a sudden thought, sir."

"A sudden thought?" Snape asked in sheer disbelief. "Potion masters have been trying to figure out how to do that since the potion's creation in 1734, and somehow a sub-par fifth year student just happens to guess the closest possibility at the drop of a hat?"

"I suppose so, sir. It just seemed logical."

"'It just seemed logical?'" He parroted, unable to understand what exactly was happening.

"Well?" Hermione continued. "What's this supposed miracle logic?"

That snapped their professor from his stupor. "Ten points from Gryffindor for repeated interruptions, after having already issued a deduction from your housemate. Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

Harrison glanced at Malfoy, who had his hand raised patiently.

"Sir, could you perhaps tell us what Potter said?" His tone was only slightly scathing. He was intrigued. Potter was a mess at potions. How could he have thrown the professor off like that?

"As the information speculated by Mr. Potter is purely hypothetical at this point, I will not discuss it further until it can be properly tested. Saturday morning, Potter. Ten o'clock. Do not be late."

Oh, hell. "Sir, we have the Quidditch pitch booked-"

"Of course you do," Snape sneered. "What time has your Captain reserved?"

"Nine, so we'll be done by eleven thirty at the latest." Harrison said quickly, feeling excited at being able to prove himself in what used to be his worst subject.

"Be here at noon." Was his final input before resuming class.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed, class was dismissed.

"Potter," Snape called out as everyone filed out.

"Sir?" Harrison asked. He hadn't gotten in trouble at all, so why was he being held back?

"Would you care to divulge your sudden aptitude for a subject you had yet to show any interest in before today?"

He shrugged. "Honestly, sir, all I did was go over some of the previous texts from first year and when you asked about the brewing process, it just kind of... popped into my head."

"I see," he said, leaning back in his chair. "And has your change of attitude towards your academics bled into any other subjects?"

Yes. He shrugged again. "I've done a fair bit of reading over the holiday, sir."

"For all of your classes?"

"Yes, sir...?"

"You're dismissed."

Without a word, Harrison gave a quick nod and left the room.

--

During lunch, Hermione pounced. "Harry!" She nudged Lee, who was sitting directly across from Harrison, out of her way and took his seat. "What on Earth did you say to Professor Snape? He never awards Gryffindor points! And certainly not to you!"

"Oi! D'you mind?" Lee demanded, taking his plate and moving further away from her flailing arms. "People are trying to eat, here!"

Harrison shot him an apologetic look.

"Well?" She prompted with a huff, ignoring Lee.

Since the twins had yet to arrive, he didn't have them to translate. "Angelina!" He called out.

"Yeah?" His teammate asked, looking away from Katie and Oliver.

"Care to run interference for a moment?"

She moved closer, actually asking the people she was displacing, if they minded. They didn't. "What's up, you guys?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Harry was going to explain exactly what he and Professor Snape were going on about, and why he was awarded points in class!"

Angelina's brows went sky high. "Oh, this I have to hear!" She said excitedly. "So, how did you crack the bat?"

He snorted. "It's not that big of a deal. I asked about changing up one of the ingredient amounts and making up for it by adjusting the brewing process. That's all."

She repeated his words to Hermione.

"It certainly is a big deal when that particular teacher decides to test the theory with that particular Gryffindor on a weekend! Then makes sure that it won't interfere with quidditch practice!"

"You're kidding!" Angelina shouted, giving him a high five. "Way to go, Harry! You really did crack him! I never thought I'd see the day."

"And you're overreacting." Merlin, this was going to get worse before it got better. "We're just going to test it. I haven't actually done anything other than ask a question."

When his words were repeated in English, Hermione let out a shrill noise and stomped off, sounding like a neglected tea kettle.

"What did you do to her?" Fred and George asked in unison, taking their place on either side of Harrison.

"Nothing," he said, rolling his eyes. "She's just being her aggravating self."

Chapter 8

Chapter Notes

Fair warning, there is a panic attack in this chapter. I have never experienced one myself, but I'm basing this off of things I've read here and there. If I have not done it justice, I apologize. If you have had one, and feel comfortable with sharing your experience, let me know in detail if I've misrepresented this in any way.

The instant Quidditch practice finished, Harrison flew directly into the locker room, rather than wait for the team. He had to move quickly if he was going to get to the lab by noon. By the time the guys had shown up, Harrison was nearly half done. With two of his team's players graduated, they was going to have to replace them, but wanted to see what the rest were like without the missing players. Katie, it seemed, was way off her game, and while Harrison didn't want her removed from the team, he knew Angelina would have to if someone else flew better at tryouts she had scheduled for the following Tuesday.

Chatter quickly filled the locker room, but he wasn't listening. He had to hurry.

"Merlin, Harry! Hello? D'you have-" Fred stopped, clutching the shower curtain in his hand.

Harrison whipped around in a panic and snatched the curtain from his grip. "What the hell are you doing?"

Fred's wide eyes blinked several times. "I... I'm sorry... Just-I couldn't find my soap..." His voice got lower and lower with each word that came out of his mouth. He shook his head. "I'll um... I'll just get George's."

In Harrison's excitement, he had forgotten to recast his glamours. And Fred just saw... Fuck. Oh, fuck. With his chest tightening, his breaths came quicker and more shallow. He backed up, even though he was alone again. Why didn't he recast the damn glamours? Sure, the thought of getting on better terms with his father was great, but how could he forget something so basic? He hadn't forgotten them since he'd learned the spells in first year! Why now?

Wrapping his arms tightly around his torso, he backed into something solid. He couldn't breathe. What the hell was he going to do? Fred saw him! No one was supposed to find out! He was starting to feel dizzy. There would be headlines in the Prophet by Monday! Black spots danced across his hazy vision. Who else saw the curtain open?! Everyone was going to find out about his life now. Reporters were going to be after him more than ever! Would they go to Surrey? Vernon and Petunia would be delighted to tell them every painful and humiliating thing they could think of, maybe as far as making things up to make him look worse! Not that it mattered what they said, because the lash marks would make everyone think he was pathetic. This was the boy that was supposed to save them all? So weak that he can't defend himself against a muggle?! Oh, fuck.

Something pressed into his shoulders. When did he drop to the floor? Why couldn't he breathe?! What's going on!

The last thing he heard was the muffled shouts for help.

--

"Tell her I'm fine!" Harrison spat, once again in the infirmary. He had woken up as he was being gently hovered up the stairs, bobbing slightly. He was on a stretcher. It all slammed back to him. The shower, Fred, he saw.

"No, Harry!" George retorted. "People who just randomly collapse are not fine!"

Harrison growled. "I didn't randomly collapse! I bloody well slipped! And, as you can see, I'm fi-"

George took the cuff off. "Much as I care, Harry, shut up. I'm going to let Madame Pomfrey use this, because I'm not going to sit here and translate a bunch of lies!" He cracked his neck, handing the cuff over to the medi-witch.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Weasley, but does this have anything to do with 'I'm fine, I'm fine, I don't need to be here'?" She asked sternly, adjusting the cuff to fit her ear.

He rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Oh, the woes of a teenage frequent flier," she joked. "Alright, Mr. Potter. Let's see what's not bothering you today."

She waved her wand, muttering in Latin, and a sheet of parchment popped up out of nowhere. She hesitated. "Mr. Potter? It appears as though you had a panic attack."

Harrison closed his eyes, humiliated. "Okay then. Can I leave now?" This would never happen again.

"Harry?" George asked with concern. "Hang on, is this because of that thing you have to do with Snape?"

Wait, what? He shook his head. "No! Merlin's beard, we're just making a potion! I'm not four."

"Making potions on a Saturday? While certainly unorthodox, I don't see how that would be so upsetting." Madam Pomfrey cut in, confused.

Right. She still had the cuff. For a split second, he had forgotten that he was not speaking in English.

"It's not upsetting, Poppy. He's being dramatic. I'm actually happy to go. The professor is going to help me test a theory, and he even scheduled it around practice. Truthfully, I don't know why he's making such a big deal about it. Please, can I go now?" Harrison begged the witch. He cast a tempus. "Please? I was supposed to be there four minutes ago, and I really want to see if this hypothesis works out."

She seemed torn. "Well, I have no reason to keep you, but before you go, I want you to take one of these." She summoned a vial. "It's just a calming draught. If you ever start to feel overwhelmed, just take this. It will work within a few seconds. The vial is unbreakable, so keep it in your pocket at all times and see me if you need another one, okay?"

"Thank you!" He said in relief. "I'll see you around, Poppy. Let's face it, we know it's true by now."

She giggled, taking the cuff off.

Pocketing the vial, he dashed out of the infirmary and began his decent to the bowels of the castle, all the while, wondering who dressed him.

--

"Sorry, professor!" Harrison said immediately upon walking into the potions lab. "I was sidetracked by Madam Pomfrey. I've only just escaped her clutches."

Snape raised his left brow. "And what precisely warranted a visit to your reserved spot in the infirmary so soon into term? Surely, this must be a new record, Potter."

Harrison looked sheepish. "I sort of slipped in the locker room in my hurry." At least he'd had the sense to look embarrassed. Snape was less likely to dive back into his mind if he appeared that way. That still bothered him, but he wasn't going to make waves. Getting off of Snape's bad side was the goal, and pissing him off was not the way to go about it.

"You expect me to believe that you were so excited to be here, that you injured yourself to leave Quidditch more quickly?" He scoffed.

"Well, sir," he began awkwardly. "I did fly directly into the locker room. I was half finished before anyone else even got that far..."

"Indeed?" Snape said disbelievingly.

He shrugged. "Since I took the time to go over everything, I've honestly developed a bit of an interest."

Eyeing his student suspiciously, he said nothing.

They spent the next hour going over all of the alterations, then spent the next couple of hours with four cauldrons testing the dissolving times by completing the first half of the potion, while adjusting the amounts of bicorn horn in each to determine the exact amount of time it would take for the powder to dissolve. It would be a while before they were able to test the potion in it's entirety.

"Sir?" Harrison began with a confused look on his face.

"Yes?" Came the short reply.

Harrison pulled the book closer that he'd been going over while they waited. "I know your expertise goes further than potions, so I have a question... I've been doing some reading on wandlore, and I was wondering if using runes on the wood would alter the effects of the core or just the wood."

Snape tapped his chin once before replying. "While I am no master in wandlore, I would assume it depended on a few variables. Why the curiosity?"

"Despite your particular ire for the person in question, I found out that a student is using a family wand, rather than one specifically for him. Something about sentimentality, I think. He's grown rather attached to the idea of using it, but as you can imagine, it doesn't work as well as it should. So, I was thinking that if the core is suited to him, which I believe it is, and the wood is what's combating his magic, then wouldn't carving runes into the wood possibly make it more receptive? Or would it alter the core as well?"

"I cannot say. Who is the student in question?"

Harrison didn't say anything.

Snape sighed. "Fair enough. Hypothetically, it should work as long as the runes are not directly against the abilities that the core or cores are enhancing. Though, for a better understanding, I suggest that you contact a master. What I think could work, could possibly be wrong, therefore posing risk to both yourself and said anonymous student. Altering wands could understandably be quite dangerous."

Satisfied, he continued to read.

The professor couldn't believe it. What in Salazar's name happened to Potter? The ordinarily brash and brainless student was being inquisitive, respectful and wasn't nearly as stupid as he'd thought. What could have brought on such a dramatic change? Surely it couldn't be the news he had apparently shared in the Great Hall. Perhaps something changed over the summer. Either way, he was both intrigued and confused.

Just before packing everything away, Harrison paused. Despite his lack of trust in the bitter man, he felt the urge to blurt out everything he had learned since becoming more closely acquainted with the Goblins. Choking back the urge, he started cleaning up.

"I understand that this is Saturday, but I don't believe this is detention."

Harrison blinked. What? "Sir?"

"As in detention," Snape sneered. "You have been scrubbing cauldrons by muggle means."

He snorted. "Scourgify sucks. It takes off a few layers, but I've taken to using it once, then scrubbing by hand. My potions have become a lot less murky."

Without a word, Snape turned on his heel and left Harrison to his muggle cleaning.

--

Friday brought with it Harrison's first defense lesson. He was finally going to see exactly what the Great Pink Toad had in store for the class, or rather, what the ministry had in store for them. There were rumors, and of course he'd read the entire book she'd assigned, but that couldn't be it, could it? Maybe they were going to use it as a reference for some things. In the hour it took him to read the entire book, cover to cover, he'd noticed that it was different from any other course books he'd used before. At least, with the others, there was a theoretical history, then a section on benefits and drawbacks, along with other random information. In this book, there was only a sentence or two on each topic, then a list of times that the spell was unable to be used. That was it. Oh, and at the end of each section was a note that read 'Should this occur, seek out professional assistance.'

What a joke.

Harrison raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" The Great Pink Toad asked sweetly.

"I was wondering why-"

"In my class, Mr. Potter, I expect my students to speak clear English for the benefit of all. It is, after all, only polite."

He gaped. "Are you serious?" It was then that he noticed that she was still wearing the ear cuff.

Looking around, he realized that no one on his team was in the room. He was the only fifth year on the , so no one could understand his words.

The Slytherins were barely hiding their mirth.

"Professor!" Hermione cried, scandalized. "That isn't fair! He was cursed!"

"That will be ten points from Gryffindor, Miss...?" Umbridge cocked her head expectantly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Granger," she whispered.

"I'll not tolerate disrespectful children, Miss Granger." The professor smiled at the class. "Now, Mr. Potter. What was your question?"

He was at a loss, but snapped out of it to scribble his question on a piece of parchment.

Which was snatched away and promptly set alight by the Toad. "No sending notes in class. Detention tomorrow night."

Even a couple of Slytherins were shocked, but hid it quickly. The Gryffindors were pissed, but stayed silent.

With only fifteen minutes of class remaining, she called for their attention. "Now that you've all had time to read the first chapter, who can tell me the appropriate action to take when confronted by any dark creature? Miss Parkinson?"

"Call for an Auror?" Came the slightly confused reply from the Slytherin girl. It was clear she was just as bewildered by the information, or lack thereof, in the text as Harrison.

"Five points for Slytherin!" Umbridge said happily, her sickening grin on full display. She asked several more questions, most of which had the same answer, before focusing back on Harrison.

"And what, Mr. Potter, should one do in the event of a werewolf attack, specifically?"

How was he supposed to reply? He couldn't speak, and she wouldn't let him write his answers.

When he didn't respond, she gave him another detention. She asked another question. He spoke, knowing she could understand him. Another detention. Another question. He used clumsy basic sign language, for which she loudly accused him of using vulgar hand gestures. Another detention. Question after question, all fired at him.

In the end, he had lost the House one hundred and thirty-five points and gotten three weeks detention.

The Gryffindors' indignation on his behalf quickly turned into anger at the loss of so many points. They were now in the negatives, but rather than be mad at her, they were upset with him!

It only got worse when Angelina, as his captain, found out that his detentions all clashed with every practice she had scheduled, including Saturdays. Explaining the situation did little by way of calming her down.

Naturally, Fred and George were on his side, along with Neville and Hermione. Ron wasn't even pretending to support him like Hermione. He was too mad that it might ruin their chances at the Cup.

"Ronald!" She shouted, stunned at his behavior. "How dare you? You saw what Professor Umbridge was doing! How on Earth is that Harry's fault?"

"What?" He said angrily. "So, you don't care that he cost us well over a hundred points in one single class?"

"Of course I care!" She retorted, crossing her arms. "But that's not his fault!"

Harrison sighed and went to his dorm, exhausted. No one tried to speak with him for the rest of the day.

This was not going to be his year.

--

When he rose over an hour before his alarm, Harrison decided not to bother drifting back off, and headed for the showers. Thankfully, it was Saturday, which meant he didn't have to worry about biased professors, or anyone really. Rather than rush off to go outside and enjoy the sun, or sleep in, Harrison found himself going to the library. He wanted somewhere to go that would offer him absolute privacy, and had thought about that for quite some time over the last week or so. After giving the situation a fair amount of thought, he asked himself 'Where in the castle could I go that no one else would stumble upon?' Sure, he could find an unused classroom and ward the hell out of it, but he knew that it would leave a thick magical residue that would raise questions. After a lot of thought in a short amount of time, Harrison mentally smacked himself on the forehead. The one place in the castle that no one else could access, besides him. The bloody Chamber!

Which was precisely why he was going to the library. For some reason, even in Charms class, none of the professors taught household magic. That made little to no sense to Harrison, but he didn't care too much. He just needed to find some texts on cleaning charms and the like to make the Chamber habitable. The two cleaning spells he did know, were from word of mouth, and didn't do all that much, intended for small messes. That He whispered, not wanting to bring down the vulture-like librarian's wrath.

was all well and good, but it would take him about six months to get centuries worth of grime and nastiness off the floors and walls. If he were to try to use muggle cleaning, he'd only be halfway done by the time he graduated. Absolutely not. So, the library it is.

He scrawled a quick note to Madame Pince, asking for some recommendations. He may have lead her to believe that he wanted the information so that he could get by without house elves when he eventually moved out on his own.

Wait. House elves. He didn't know if it would work, not speaking English, but he decided to give it a shot. "Dobby?" Crack.

Dobby appeared just a few feet away, and he was looking around, confused. When he spied Harrison, he squealed in delight. "Oh! Master Har-!"

Harrison covered the elf's mouth, hoping that no one heard the excitable little elf. He brought a finger to his own lips, so that Dobby would know that they had to be quiet and he wasn't trying to be rude.

Since the Umbridge incident, Harrison had decided to keep a couple of his ear cuffs on him at all times, so that should the problem arise again, at least someone would be able to understand the situation and back him up if necessary. He pulled the little cuff out of his pocket and crouched in front of Dobby. Given his history with the Malfoy's, he didn't move too quickly, and kept a calm mask up so that he wouldn't be frightened.

With Dobby's strangely shaped ears, the cuff might not fit. Harrison smiled when it readjusted itself to fit perfectly.

"What's that, Master Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby whispered, looking around for eavesdroppers.

Harrison put up a muffling charm and settled into one of the squashy armchairs set up for studying, indicating the one next to him for Dobby. "Nothing bad, I promise. It just let's people understand my parseltongue. Okay?"

His batty ears wiggled. "Dobby heard that Master Harry Potter's voice was cursed away. All the elves is sad for Master-"

"We've been over this, Dobby." He cut in, crossing his legs casually. "I'm not your master. Just call me Harrison, but only in private, alright? Harry in public."

"We is in public now... so should Dobby be calling him Harry now?" He lowered his whisper to near silence.

With a snort, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I put up silencing charms, so Harrison is fine. Actually, I was hoping to ask you for a favor. Since I'm not your master, I don't want you to feel like I'm commanding you to do anything. That said, you can tell me if you don't want to do something I ask you. Got it?"

"Dobby is always happy to help Mas- Harrison! Whatever Harrison be needing, Dobby be doing with pride!"

A thought occurred to him. "Let me ask you," he began hesitantly, not wanting to offend. "Now, don't get upset, but I was wondering if you- well, all house elves- spoke the way you do because you have to, or because that's just your way?"

The elf blinked several times, amazement written all over his face. "We elves is speaking the way the Wizzies be asking, long time ago, so Wizzies sound smarter and elves knows they places." He looked guilty and ashamed.

"In that case, Dobby, I want you to speak with me however you feel more comfortable. I won't be upset either way, so if you want to speak 'proper' English, then please, feel free to."

"Does... does Harrison mean it?" He asked tearfully.

"Absolutely!"

With a watery smile, Dobby hopped off his seat and hugged Harrison's legs tightly. "Oh, thank you, Harrison! Elves aren't allowed to speak with people like we're people too, unless ordered by our masters. But no one ever asks, and we aren't allowed to say anything about it!"

"That's awful. Let the other elves know that any time one of them speaks with me, they can do the same. Making yourselves sound stupid for the sake of egos of wizards is just wrong. Just make sure that they know they don't have to, though, if it makes them uncomfortable."

Dobby just couldn't seem to quit smiling. "So," he said cheerfully. "What was the favor you wanted to ask?"

Oh, right. He'd nearly forgotten. "You remember the Chamber of Secrets, right?" He waited for the nod before continuing. "Well, I was hoping that you might help me with it. I'd like to set it up as a place to relax, so that I can get some alone time on occasion, maybe set up one of the rooms so that I can practice my magic in peace. A space to just... hang out, away from everyone. I'm more than willing to share the space with you, and some of the other elves if they help, but it must be kept secret. If anyone finds out that I go down there, people will start talking about me becoming the next Dark Lord again."

There was a pause.

"I can practically see you chomping at the bit to ask me something. You can always talk to me, Dobby. Just ask."

He bit his lip. "Since you already said I don't have to agree, I'll keep your secret no matter what, but ... you aren't going to... you won't turn evil like the Dark Lord, will you?"

For a second, Harrison was stunned at the balls it took to ask the question. At the same time, he was thrilled that someone asked, rather than assume. "I'm surprised, but pleased that you were so blunt. To answer you, though, no. I have no intention of being evil or hurting anyone." Physically...

Dobby wrung his hands together, his gaze locked firmly on his lap. "Are you upset with me? I shouldn't have asked."

"Honestly, it's a bit of a relief." He snorted. "Everyone walks on eggshells around me, or acts like I'm going to rip their throats out. Others just want to be nice to me because I'm famous and rich. No one treats me like I'm a person either, Dobby. I'm either a Savior or Evil Incarnate. There is no middle ground. Why don't we agree, right now, to treat each other like people? Especially since no one else will."

Tears slipped down his cheeks. "You really are strange, aren't you?" He gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth, his eyes even rounder than usual.

Harrison's shoulders shook in silent laughter as he thought about Thortac. "I really, really am." He forced himself calm. Trying to laugh was awkward. Trying not to sucked. "Listen, if any of the other elves think the way you do, give them the same option. I will ask though, that if you think any of them will report me to anyone, especially to the Headmaster or any of his followers, that you keep them out of the loop. It's a long story, but suffice it to say, it's a matter of safety and is very important." Saying this to Dobby didn't worry him. He knew that helping Dobby get away from the Malfoy's was what anchored them in their odd friendship. The elf was bound to him by loyalty and trust, not by magic, and for that, they were both grateful.

The tears finally slowed. "What is it, exactly, that you want me to do in the Chamber?"

"For now, just help me clean it up." He shrugged. "Like I said, if doing this is upsetting, I don't mind doing it myself. There are a bunch of books that have cleaning and scouring spells, so it's no trouble."

"I would be happy to help." He said truthfully. "I know of at least three other elves that don't care much for the Headmaster, so I'm sure we could get it done. We'll act the way they think we should if you're not alone."

As much as he hated to admit it, that was probably for the best. He didn't want any of them to get into trouble. "That makes sense. Now, if the Weasley twins are with me, just be yourselves. They'll appreciate it as much as I do."

"Weasley twins? The tall redheads?" His tone changed a bit. "They've always been kind to us, but what about your other friends? The younger Weasley's and the smart girl?"

He shook his head. "You'll have to be in full 'elf mode' for them too. I'll explain everything to you once we can get down to the Chamber. Meet me in the girl's lavatory on the second floor tomorrow after breakfast?"

"Of course. Do you want me to bring the others then too, or wait?"

"Let's wait until we see how much we can do for ourselves, then figure out how much help we'll need." He cast a tempus. "I have to get going. I'll see you in the morning, then?"

"I'll be there at eight thirty. Half the kitchen staff think I'm mad, so they won't question it when I leave."

As the elf disappeared with a crack, Harrison rushed to serve his detention with the Great Pink Toad.

Chapter 9

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

She assigned him lines and gave him a ruby red quill.

"May I have some ink, professor?" He asked, resignedly. He hated having to hold his tongue and be polite to this so-called woman.

Unlike in class, she didn't pretend not to understand him. "You don't need it. Do your lines, in silence, until I decide the message has had time to... sink in. You will write 'I do not deserve special treatment'. Begin."

Wow, really? He bit back the remark that lay on the tip of his tongue and wrote. The sting on his forearm was surprising, but he instantly knew what it was. He had come across blood quills in one of the books he bought during his time in Diagon Alley. They were illegal unless signing legal documents in the presence of Ministry officials, and were certainly not allowed to leave the building.

Pain was nothing new to Harrison, so he never made a sound. Not even when his sleeve dripped red and stained her bright pink carpet. Actually, that part pleased him.

Maybe one of these days, he would come in here under his invisibility cloak and paint everything in dull colors. That could be amusing. He'd have to wait though, until his detentions were finished, so that she wouldn't immediately blame him. Maybe after Halloween. Yeah, that could work. Paint the office black, but then figure out how to stain all of her clothes brown.

He hid his smile and continued to write.

With each line, the bleeding took longer and to stop. After a while, maybe half an hour, it didn't stop between lines. The words, while he couldn't see them, were getting deeper. By the end, he could feel the quill digging into the muscles in his forearm, pulling and tearing. Keeping his eyes on the parchment, he had no idea how much of a stain he'd left on the horrid carpet, but hoped it wouldn't come out. His sleeve was soaked. In his slightly dazed state, he noticed that the left edge of the parchment was crimson as well, yet still refused to look up lest he lose the precarious hold of his control. The last thing he needed was to lash out against a ministry official.

Given the developments of the summer, he no longer had anyone that could or would support him in the event of legal trouble. At least, not any that he trusted. Sure, if anything happened, Dumbledore would sweep in and try to settle the matter, but even though so many people worshiped the ground he walked on, the ministry was not amongst them. He was as much on the legal outs as Harrison himself, if not more so, since he decided that telling everyone within earshot (or eye-shot, with various newspapers) about Voldemort's return.

Yes, in the event of an emergency, people absolutely have the right to know about it in order to attempt to protect themselves. Harrison adamantly agreed to that. In this case however, he was the crazy guy in muggle films that runs around screaming about the apocalypse without proof. The entire thing sounded like an ill-conceived conspiracy theory.

Harrison knew that Voldemort had returned. Hell, they had dueled. Dumbledore had gone about letting the people know in the wrong way. All the public knew was that Harry and Cedric vanished from a heavily publicized event, and came back later, the latter of which was dead. Harrison knew how that looked. So, in what world did it make sense to start running around shouting that the worst evil since Grindlewald had suddenly come back to life without so much as a shred of evidence? All anyone else saw was an injured and rambling, traumatized little boy, clutching a dead body. Harrison didn't blame anyone for not believing the truth. It was completely fucking insane, made no sense, and seemed utterly impossible. It didn't help the fact that people had been speculating on the Headmaster's grip, or lack thereof, on reality. The man was well past the age for retirement, and his senility was a valid concern.

In any case, with a sickeningly sweet tone, the professor had warned him off of getting Madam Pomfrey to heal his arm, and told him that under no uncertain terms that he was remaining silent because he knew that he was a horrible liar and deserved the punishment.

"I will see you on Monday, Mr. Potter." She actually had the gall to wave at him as though they'd had a pleasant tea together! "Good night."

Despite his outward appearance, Harrison was not well and he knew it. Essence of dittany, a blood replenishing potion, food and sleep in that order were what he needed, but he didn't have the first two. He also didn't have the strength to brew them at the moment.

He wondered what the marks would look like in the morning, especially now that he had undergone the ritual to unblock his natural healing ability. The thought of dealing with The Great Pink Toad without it was, quite frankly, terrifying. With as much as she'd made him bleed himself, it probably would have left him either unconscious somewhere or dead.

With that pleasant thought, Harrison made his way up to the tower, and dropped into his bed without changing his clothes, though he did have just enough energy to ward his bed for noises and privacy.

--

While tempers had flared the day before, no one said a word by the time breakfast had rolled around, mostly because nearly all of them were still in bed and the rest weren't awake enough to say anything regardless.

Thank Merlin for small favors, Harrison thought bitterly, as he sat down between the twins.

"Morning," George said sleepily, unsuccessfully stifling a jaw cracking yawn.

Fred seemed much more awake and cheerfully greeted Harrison and the other early risers around them. He rolled his shoulders. "Don't mind him, Harry. Poor Georgie can't function without at least two cups of black tea."

Not having slept well, surprise surprise, Harrison merely grunted in reply, pulling one of the spelled carafes of steaming coffee close. He inhaled deeply, praying that he would be able to stay awake through his morning classes. One sip and a grimace later, he pushed it away. "Dobby."

"Master Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said happily, flapping his overlarge ears. "What can Dobby be helping with?"

For a split second, Harrison was confused as hell why the elf was acting like their conversation had never happened, then remembered that he was in public and they had agreed on his 'acceptable behavior' around others. "Morning. Could you possibly get me some coffee that's not quite so... see through?"

Dobby stared at him in confusion. His ears drooped, not knowing what Harrison wanted.

"I think he means stronger, Dobby." Fred supplied. "Judging by his zombie state, I'd say much stronger."

The elf's eyes widened in understanding. "Dobby can be doing that, Master Harry Potter, sir!"

Seconds later, he reappeared with an identical carafe, and placed it next to Harrison's head, which was resting on the table.

Before raising his head, Harrison groped blindly around for his mug and vanished it's repulsive contents. He lazily tapped the rim of the cup with his wand, muttering " Engorgio," though it didn't grow as much as he'd hoped. Finally lifting his head completely, he recast the charm with more force, and was satisfied when the mug tripled in size.

Just under half the carafe went into the mug, along with two level teaspoons of sugar, and he took that first life affirming sip. He could practically feel his soul shimmering to life as the warmth reached his stomach. "That's fucking fantastic, Dobby. From the very depths of my heart, I can't thank you enough for this magnificent gift."

Professor Flitwick had just happened by as Harrison said this and grew suspicious. "Mr. Potter?"

Harrison's eyes flew open, having kept them closed to better savor and appreciate the dark liquid. "Yes, sir?"

"Might I inquire the reason for this... oddness?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand." Harrison said truthfully, taking another deep drink, shuddering pleasantly at the taste. He was not awake enough to follow actual conversation.

"Why exactly have you summoned an elf to bring you a drink that you're... so obviously... enraptured by? What, more precisely, is it?"

What is he getting at? Harrison wondered. "It's just coffee, sir. I asked Dobby for it specifically because what's on the table is horribly watered down."

Not entirely convinced, Flitwick raised an eyebrow and summoned the carafe in question and sniffed at it. Then, for some unfathomable reason, poured himself a cup.

Dobby squeaked in alarm. "Professor Charmy might not want to do that!"

Rather than question the elf, he looked pointedly at Harrison. "Why is that?"

"Dobby is being using the same coffee for Master Harry Potter as scary Professor Snapey be's drinking." Dobby clarified.

"Ah," Flitwick nodded, pouring his untouched cup back into the carafe. "I understand, Dobby. Thank you. And, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir?" He asked, greedily reclaiming his mug.

"As I have been telling Professor Snape for the past fifteen years, that monstrosity you call coffee would be better put to use as a paint stripper, and not injested by any living thing." He shook his head in disbelief as Harrison took a long drink. "You are the only other person I've ever seen able to stomach that."

Harrison shrugged, honestly having no idea what the big deal was. For Merlin's sake, it was just coffee.

"Master Harry Potter and scary Snapey be's drinking deadly stuff!"

Fred took his mug and swigged it. And promptly choked. "Merlin, Harry! He's not kidding! That's not coffee, that's toxic sludge!"

George took it and sniffed deeply, wrinkling his nose. "Vile, is what it is. I'm not stupid enough to drink it."

Now that they had been there for a while, some of the later risers were starting to file in, bleary eyed and groggy. Within minutes, the Great Hall would be packed.

Harrison groaned, having wanted to be finished by now. He wasn't prepared for the noise that the masses were sure to bring. Oh well, nothing to be done for it.

He transfigured an unused plate into a very large travel mug and placed a stasis over it to keep the rest of the coffee fresh. That was definitely going with him... if there was any left.

"Does Master Harry Potter be needing anything else from Dobby, sir?"

"I'll tell you what, Dobby." He replied with a smirk. "If you bring me a carafe of this every morning, I'll buy you an entire wardrobe of your choosing for Christmas. This stuff is fantastic." He stole a glance at the potions professor and saw him leering at students over the rim of his own coffee mug. Not knowing if he was pleased or disgusted at having found something in common with his unknowing father, he chomped down on a slice of lightly buttered toast.

Dobby vanished with a pop.

The wondrous feeling he had was deflated slightly as Hermione plopped herself across from him and the twins with a wide smile. "Good morning, you three."

Instead of making someone translate something so mundane as basic greetings, Harrison nodded at her with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

She plastered a sympathetic look on her face. "Has anyone in the House calmed down yet, Harry?"

He shrugged, "No idea. I woke up before any of them."

George relayed the message.

"Nevermind," she said dismissively. "You'll just have to make sure not to upset Professor Umbridge again, and everything will be fine."

Harrison's jaw dropped. Upset Umbridge? He hadn't done anything! Was Hermione totally mad? "Have you lost your bloody mind? I was nothing but respectful, but it didn't stop her from using a disability to harass a student in a room full of people!" He stopped. While he knew being linguistically blocked was a disadvantage, he had never considered it a disability before. He was in no way comparing himself to someone who was fully mute, or with some debilitating illness or injury, but it was a disability, however slight. He'd been too preoccupied with the stealth based privacy it afforded.

The twins angled around him to look at each other. "Nope." They agreed in unison. "But he's right."

Hermione huffed lightly, pulling the carafe close. "I suppose you're not going to translate, then?"

They shook their heads.

"Oh fine," she took a drink and started choking, sputtering coffee all over the table. Everyone near them lifted their plates and cups to avoid the spray. "Merlin! That's positively poisonous! What on Earth were they thinking?"

"After she leaves,"Harrison wrinkled his nose, putting his plate back on the table. "Remind me why I'm pretending to be her friend again."

They snorted. "Harrykins here had that sludge summoned for himself, and even Flitwick said it's a good paint stripper." George supplied.

"I can see why!" She wiped her mouth again. "Only..."

When she trailed off, Harrison did his best not to roll his eyes. He gave a small wave, prompting her to continue.

She made a show of looking awkwardly at her fidgeting hands. "Don't you think it's wrong to be asking for special things just because you're famous? I know it's only coffee, but you've gone on for years about hating your fame, then you start asking for favors? It's not like you to expect special treatment."

Every jaw within ten feet dropped. Where the hell had that come from?

Harrison flexed his left hand, feeling the pull of the cuts that said those very words. That had to be a coincidence. "You're not serious?"

Fred translated.

"Unfortunately, I am. Look at yourself, Harry!" She gestured wildly at his entire form. "You don't even look like the same person! And you certainly don't act the same."

Harrison was speechless. But he seemed to be the only one.

"What is wrong with you?" George demanded.

"Are you honestly that upset because Harry asked for coffee?" Fred asked, stunned.

"Who cares if he went and got all hot?" Katie added, then smirked. "Some of us appreciate it."

"You his mum now?" An unknown Ravenclaw asked, having been listening since Professor Flitwick's arrival earlier.

"Thanks, Hermione." Harrison finally said, trying not to appear hurt. In spite of everything, he'd been able to hide it, but his mask slipped. He took a deep breath and poured the remaining coffee into his transfigured travel mug. Pushing himself upright, he left the Great Hall.

One of the things he'd realized about Hermione since his cleansing, was that she was just as jealous as Ron, but in a different way. While Ron did little to hide his lust for Harrison's wealth and fame, Hermione was downright vicious when it came to academics. Now that his mind was cleared, he had spent a while going over everything he'd experienced with his 'friends' and he was much less than impressed. Under the guise of helping Harry with his homework, she'd been wrongly correcting his work, so that he would never do better than her. On more than one occasion though, she'd corrected her own with information that she had removed or crossed out from his, mostly in Defense, but a few times in other classes.

He knew all of this, and had for a while, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Before he could reach his first class, which funnily enough was Transfiguration, the Headmaster's phoenix Fawkes, perched himself on Harrison's shoulder. Fawkes held a note in his beak.

"Hello, sweet bird." He said softly, stroking Fawkes' chest.

-Harry, lets have a chat. PS I have a craving for bonbons. -AD-

Rolling his eyes, he made his way to Dumbledick's office.

Seeing the stone gargoyle spring to life would never get old. He smirked at the statue and let the stairs carry him to the strangely decorated office.

"Ah!" Came the Headmaster's cheerful welcome. "Harry, my boy! It's good to see you."

Harrison nodded.

"Lemon drop?" He asked, tilting an ornate candy dish.

Head shake.

"So," he said, leaning back in his seat. "Have you been enjoying your classes thus far?"

Nod. Most of my classes, he thought ruefully of Defense.

"Good, good." He smiled. "I felt the need to invite you, as you surely know, because of your recent changes."

Raised brow.

"It has come to my attention that, while yes, your professors are pleased with your classwork, your social life seems to be suffering from your curse."

Excuse me? Harrison allowed his disbelief to show. They'd only been back a few days! How the hell could anyone know how much or how little time he was spending with the Trio of Trash? Unless they tattled to the Headmaster.

"Yes, dear boy. It appears to me, that you have abandoned your previous friendships and your very attitude and appearance... Not to mention your outburst in the Great Hall over the slip of Mr. Weasley's tongue. They are quite naturally concerned."
Harrison's astonishment only grew. This is a bloody joke! It has to be! Did all of the compulsions really make him so blind to all of this idiocy? Or were they finally cracking?

"Oh, don't you worry, Harry." He said gently. "You're not in trouble. No, no. I am, however, suggesting that you take some time to see your friends and get this mess sorted. Perhaps it is because you find yourself too busy to see them?"

He shook his head vehemently. Where the fuck is this going?

"Yes, that's what I thought." Dumbledick nodded. "Perhaps you should consider freeing your evenings to reconnect with them? This being your OWL year, you are surely feeling the strain of friendships, academics as well as sports. Given that information, I feel the unfortunate need to remove Quidditch from the equation. Your team will understand, I'm sure."

With wide eyes, Harrison vehemently shook his head. This couldn't be happening! What happened to the assumption that it was because of his curse? Why did it suddenly become about Quidditch? They have nothing to do with each other! Besides, Quidditch only takes up a few hours per week!

A familiar tingle swept over Harrison. While he felt no need to bow to the compulsion, he did assess what it was that the Headmaster wanted him to do. He was supposed to resign from the team formally, pretending that he hadn't just been removed, and claim that the stress of OWL's were to blame. It also told him to spend his new free time studying with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

Rather than confront the bastard over his failed compulsion, Harrison squared his shoulders and continued on as if nothing had occurred. Let him think he won. For now.

--

"Congratulate your sister for me, won't you?" Harrison seethed, slamming his book laden knapsack on George's desk in the sixth year boys dorm with a heavy thud.

"For what?" The twins and Angelina asked together.

"I'm sure she'll make an excellent replacement seeker." Feeling the static in the air, he took a slow breath in attempts to dissipate his lightly lashing magic.

"WHAT?!" They cried out, George and Angelina backing off when they felt another flare.

Fred, however, stepped slowly closer to the irately pacing wizard. Tentatively, he reached out to touch Harrison's arm, not flinching at the accidentally painful sting. "Breathe. Look at me, and tell me what's happened."

"Someone has decided that my attitude and appearance are because I'm too stressed." He yanked off his tie and threw it on a random bed, but he did stop pacing. "So I've been kicked off the fucking team!"

The stunned silence didn't last long.

"Who the hell decided that?!" His captain- former captain, demanded. "That sounds like the same rubbish that Hermione was spouting off on this morning! Why is everyone so hung up on a bloody makeover? My opinion is that you're better for it. Besides, your classes were going well, and you haven't done anything stupid, so there's no reason to do this! I'm going to the Headmaster about this!"

"Whose idea do you think it was?" Harrison hissed through clenched teeth.

"Don't tell me that whole 'bad attitude' bullshit was his only basis for putting you out!" She shouted. "If that were the case, then Slytherin wouldn't have a team at all and we would be down to half a team! He had to say something else! Please tell me he gave you an actual, valid reason!"

They were all too pissed off to react when there was another flare. "Oh yeah. You're gonna fucking love this... I'm not spending enough time with Hermione and your siblings!" He pointed at the twins. "That was his brilliant reason!"

Three faces gaped. If Angelina hadn't been a female, or black, they'd have been mistaken for triplets given their identical expressions.

"So we go to McGonagall." Fred said gently. "She'll never let this stand. She values the team too much to let this happen."

"'Lina?" Harrison asked, forcing himself to calm down. "Can you do that so we have a few minutes?"

She nodded, still dumbfounded. "Sure. I'll let you know what she says."

When she vanished, he threw himself into one of their dorm mate's desk chairs. "There's a very good possibility she's in Dumblefuck's pocket. She could agree with him. What do I do if that happens?" Education is important, but the freedom that flight afforded him was one of the only things keeping him sane at the moment.

"You mean 'we' Harrison." George stated. "This isn't right, and no matter what goes on at that meeting, they're gonna have a lot of angry lions to deal with."

"Right." He said miserably, slumping down into a seat. "Even if McGonagall doesn't like it, she can't ignore a direct order from her boss. So, she either goes with it, or she risks being replaced with someone who is more... agreeable."

"So, there's nothing we can do?" George asked desperately.

Fred, who was rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly stopped. He saw the devilish look on Harrison's face and the ache in his neck subsided. "What are you planning, Harrison? I know that look."

"What do you say to cracking Dumblefuck?" He asked slyly.

"Do tell," they replied in unison, their smirks growing.

"Let's cause some mischief." He leaned back in his chair and summoned his writing implements from his room, and began to write furiously.

For a while, they let him work in silence. After about ten minutes though, they were ready to burst.

"Well? What have you come up with?" Fred asked impatiently, as Harrison smiled and potted his quill.

"A long term plan, gentlemen, if you're up for it." Something in the very walls seemed to agree as a warm embrace of magic enveloped him. "Let's make me the most hated person in Gryffindor again."

"What? Why?" They asked.

"To explain, I'll need to set up a meeting with some of the more influential people here. And make sure that the Trio of Trash are nowhere nearby, along with anyone else that might not be trustworthy."

"Done." George stated firmly. "When and where?"

Harrison channeled his inner Mr. Burns from the Simpsons, steepling his fingers. "Excellent."

--

It was decided that they would meet on the pitch during tryouts to avoid suspicion. After all, who would be surprised to see the majority of the House watching over their investments? Everyone, even the staff, bet on those games, and the team that was in the lead for so long just had to replace one of it's most important players. No, Harrison wasn't that full of himself, but if he thought about it, what other player was expected to win one hundred and fifty points on their own?

In any case, Harrison sat in the stands with three students from each year from fourth on, aside from the team and the Trio of Trash. Ginny for tryouts and Ron and Hermione for the perfectly timed prefects meeting. Harrison put up half a dozen different silencing charms and wards, turning around in his seat to face the group.
He handed out the cuffs with explicit instructions to return them after the meeting.

"Alright, everyone." Harrison said when the last of the cuffs were put on. "There's a lot we need to go over, and not a lot of time. So, I'll jump right in. This bloody school needs to change. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it here, but this place is failing us all."

"What do you mean, Harry?" A seventh year girl asked with a slight frown.

"The House rivalries, the blatant favoritism, the restricted curriculum, the constant danger this school is put in every year, nearly a quarter of the staff is less than useless. I want to go over each of these briefly, so that you understand what I have planned. Okay?"

Most of the group looked uncomfortable, but agreed nonetheless.

"First thing, the House rivalries. Over the last fifty years, the Houses have become more and more divided, not to mention, hostile. The initial separation was so that similarly minded people could work together in an environment best suited to them for personal success. Seating wasn't kept separate by House. Classes weren't segregated by the Houses with the biggest issues with each other. Sure, there were petty fights that were resolved rather quickly, but that's true with any school. But now? How many of you have more than two friends belonging to another House? I know I don't. I have one." He'd met a little blonde Ravenclaw that spoke in the oddest ways, but adored her immediately. Honestly, he was a little scared of her. One day she'd just walked right up to him and introduced herself, and said that it was nice to finally meet the real 'Harrison'. Not Harry, Harrison. Regardless, he liked the dotty girl.

No one raised their hand.

"Right." He shook his head. "Moving on, the favoritism. Actually, I'm going to combine this point with the staff. Who here knows about any of the staff showing favoritism for a specific House or person?"

Every hand raised.

"Go on, then Heidi," He nodded to a sixth year girl who was friends with the twins.

"Snape!" She cried out, her long blonde hair whipping around in the wind. "He hates Gryffindors and spoils Slytherin!"

They would mention him first. "Excellent example. Unfortunately, I understand the reasoning behind it. We'll get to it. Who else?"

"Well," Pavarti began, her nose scrunched. "McGonagall does sort of favor us the same way... but she favors you too! All those times you, Ron and Hermione were out breaking the rules, you didn't get into as much trouble as you... maybe should have..."

"Don't worry, Pavarti. I absolutely agree with you. You couldn't be more correct. Any more?"

"Hagrid really doesn't like Slytherin, but he doesn't take points or anything. He doesn't give them evenly either."

"What do you mean?" Harrison asked, genuinely curious.

"He's never taken points off of anyone, has he, even when it's deserved? And as for the Slytherins, he doesn't call on them as often as he does with the Gryphs, so they don't get the chance to get as many points as us."

"Now that I think about it, you're right. His lesson plans are biased as well. Not to mention impractical. Now, I really like Hagrid and I always will, but because of this school's reputation, the Board can't find or keep quality staff. Unfortunately, Hagrid is one of the problem professors. He's a fantastic friend and a damn good groundskeeper, but he's nowhere near qualified to teach. He was wrongfully expelled in his third year, and never graduated. His wand was snapped-" he ignored the shocked reactions and continued. "And he's not even legally allowed to perform magic. In a class that routinely brings incredibly dangerous magical animals to large groups of immature children, that's probably not the best idea. That nonsense with Malfoy two years ago is a perfect example. No matter what school you go to, magical or muggle, there will always be prats. If Buckbeak had clipped the underside of his arm, rather than the top, he'd have bled out long before Hagrid could carry him to the infirmary. And all because he can't legally cast a simple charm."

One of the girls in Ginny's year raised her hand shyly. "Binns. It isn't favoritism, but he's not cut out for teaching either. Nearly everyone sleeps in his class and even the end of class doesn't make him stop droning on and on like he doesn't notice anything. He doesn't award points because he doesn't engage the class. He doesn't dish out detentions, because he doesn't see anything that's going on around him. I know I should have gotten plenty of detentions from him, but... nothing."

"Couldn't agree more. We're being cheated out of our history because of a ghost that only teaches the few who can stay awake, and never anything beyond goblin uprisings. For you sixth and seventh years, how much of the OWL exam was on goblin uprisings?"

"Maybe a quarter of it. No one passed."

"Okay, perfect."He sighed. "Now, I want to explain this Snape thing before we move on, yeah? I know we didn't get to every teacher, but I want to address this one specifically. How often do we, as Gryphs, start in on Slytherin? Prompted or not, how often are we the ones that strike first? Muggle fighting or magic, it doesn't matter."

The group wore varying expressions of guilt. "Nearly always," someone mumbled.

"And even then, if anyone but Snape catches it, what happens?"

No one answered.

"I've looked it up, actually. The number of points and detentions in Gryffindor vs Slytherin fights is appalling. They wind up with visits with the Headmaster, letters home, four times the point loss and at least twice the amount of detention, whereas we almost never see the Headmaster, a few points docked and a detention or two. Unless someone is seriously injured, no letters home either. Snape has to make up for it somehow, otherwise, their hourglass would be nearly empty every year, and ours would be completely full, no matter how wrongly we behave. And we do. I'll be the first to admit that."

"But they're death eaters!" Came the response from several of them.

"No they're not. Anyone that wears green in this school is automatically labelled that way, and it's wrong. Even I, as the so-called soldier of the light, knows that Voldy doesn't bring in anyone until after they've reached their majority. You do realize that this school does nothing for Slytherins aside from telling them that they're less than nothing, and they'll never be good enough for anything other than joining a madman? How long does someone have to hear that they're worthless and evil before they start to believe it? Seven years? Has anyone here ever asked any Slytherin what they wanted to be when they got older? Or are we all so blinded that we assume that they'll be bigots and murderers? Did you know that no less than eleven first years had themselves moved to other schools because they were sorted into Slytherin, all in the last five years? They were bloody terrified. And rightly so. Six have been disinherited in that same amount of time. For being Sorted. There are half a dozen students that were removed from their families because their parents didn't want to be associated with that House! Two students in Slytherin now legally have to be referred to as Ms. NoName because, unlike the others, they haven't been adopted into other families yet. It goes farther. Pavarti, like most teenage girls, you like clothes, right?"

With a confused look, she nodded.

"And you shop in Diagon Alley, and sometimes Hogsmeade, yes? Tell me how many things you've ever bought that were green? I've seen you wear every color, except green. I've never seen anyone outside Slytherin wear green. Did you know that nearly all clothing shops don't even sell anything that color? They, again, don't like the association. So, no, I'm not upset by any Slytherin favoritism. It's not a popular opinion, but that's okay."

"So, what are you going to do?" Lee Jordan asked.

"Bridge the gap. It's going to take all year, but this has to stop. I'll need all of your help. There were other things I wanted to go over, but it doesn't look like we have much time left. Put it simply, every issue this school has can be tied to one person. For now, I want you all to think on this; are you willing to help me fix this? If your answer is yes, come back here during the next practice. We'll iron out the details then. Oh, and before you go, I have to warn you, this information goes nowhere. If we're going to get this place sorted, we're going to have to do it quietly for now. I'm going to bring proof of certain misdeeds to the next meeting, but I'll need Vows to ensure secrecy for the next meeting. I have to go, though. Detention waits for no man, or in this case, no toad. Remember, mum's the word, okay? Even with your best friends. It will all come out, we just need to have everything firmly in place first. I'll see you lot later." He collected the cuffs and left.

Chapter End Notes

I'm not 100% thrilled with the way this chapter turned out, but my characters didn't feel the need to cooperate.
A/N- the coffee obsession is me. I'm that girl. I take mine the same way Harrison does, and yes, it is a life affirming experience, and yes, I have to make my own pot everyday because no one else can stomach it... oh well. More for me.

Chapter 10

When Harrison made it to the Great Pink Toad's office, he stopped long enough cast some subtle glamours over his arm. With not being able to get the last detention healed, his natural healing kicked in and all that was left of his lines were faint pink letters. So, to keep her from thinking he'd gone to Pomfrey or someone else for dittany, he made the letters darker and even left a tiny scab or two for good measure. Another thing he'd discovered, was that he felt a strange tug every time he thought about telling anyone.

What is it with this damn school and compulsions? It must be in the quill. It wasn't like the ones that Dumblefuck flung around. This one was literally being cut into his flesh and going directly into his blood. He couldn't throw it off. How in the fiery rings of hell is a blood quill stronger than an Unforgivable curse? The Imperius curse was put on him before he had all of his rituals and was still blocked, but he was still out-willed by a damn pen, when half of his blocks were gone.

Natural healing notwithstanding, he had gone to the owlery to mail order a large amount of potions ingredients. He attached a note to his order stating that if he got it before lunch that day, and they were the highest quality, he would throw in an extra ten percent upon inspection. They were of very good quality, but he didn't have any time to brew, so he just sent the bill to Griphook and was sure to mark the ten percent bonus.

Before having left for school, Harrison had set up a new vault under another name for his owl orders and loaded it with five thousand galleons, so that he was able to place orders and shop without the knowledge of any Headmasters who might be trying to screen his transactions. The five thousand galleons had come from an account that Dumblefuck didn't seem to know about, so it seemed like a safe bet. Only three of his accounts had been tampered with, but apparently there were more. How many, and their combined worth were still unknown, but they would be gone over with Griphook during Yule break.

He knocked on the plain wooden door.

"Come in!" Came the sickeningly sweet reply.

Once inside, she tutted him. "Oh, Mr. Potter. Tardiness gets you nowhere in life. I suppose another detention for every minute late will have to do." She let out a girlish giggle.

Late? He was two minutes early! Arguing, however, would do no good, so he dragged his tongue rings across his clenched teeth and took his place at the small desk.

Refusing to say a word, he waited for her to give him the quill. Next time, he would have someone walk to detention with him so that she couldn't pull that again. Daily, if need be.

The problem was, the first Hogsmeade weekend wasn't until mid October, and it was only the first week of September. Six weeks until he could get back to the goblins and remove this stupid compulsion.

The Great Pink Toad sat behind her desk, sipping on severely over sweetened tea and sighing every so often.

After about an hour, his hand started cramping and he stopped writing to flex the muscles. He was happy to note that the fresh puddle on her pink carpet was surrounded by a faint rusty brown tinge. Oh, good. It had stained.

She chastised him for stopping and made his detention twenty minutes longer.

Don't curse her. Don't curse her. Don't curse her.

Eventually, she let him go. It wasn't until he left on unsteady legs, that he realized he had been there well past his allotted two hours and twenty minutes. He'd gone in at three thirty, as demanded, and it was now almost seven. Dinner was nearly over and soon the hallways and the common room would be flooded with people.

"Dobby," he called quietly.

"Hello Harrison. What can I help you with?" Dobby said happily. His usually cheerful attitude was gone as he looked at the human. "Are you okay? Can I help you to the infirmary?"

"Can you just..." Harrison swayed slightly. "Take me to my dorm? Maybe bring me some food?"

"Of course I can, but do you really think that's the best idea? You don't look well."

There was no point in lying. "I'm not. I just need to lie down." Quickly. He leaned against the wall. "Please, Dobby. I just need to lie down."

Bat-like ears flopped around as the elf nodded, grabbing his hand.

The instant they popped into Harrison's room, his legs finally gave out. Dobby levitated him off the floor and into bed, all the while, growing worried.

"Thns..." he slurred. "Cold..."

Dobby snapped his fingers and the blanket that Harrison was lying on shifted on top of him. 'If he isn't better by morning, I'm getting the mediwitch,' he thought firmly as he magically swapped Harrison's clothes for pajamas.

--

Dobby's worry was all for naught though, as Harrison woke to find the elf next to his bed with a heavy tray that was covered with a silver lid.

Harrison shifted groggily in his bed but stopped when a warm smell made his stomach growl. "You really are a king among elves, you know that?"

He beamed at the praise. "Thank you. Now sit up. I'm not sure why you were so cold last night, but if you weren't feeling better before your roommates got up, I was going to take you to the infirmary. Lucky for us both that the smell of food woke you up."

Casting a tempus, Harrison noted that it was only four am. It seemed early, but he realized that he'd been sleeping for about nine hours. That in itself was astounding. He never slept that long. Usually, not even half that long. "You have no idea how badly I needed that sleep. Can I have my food now?" He made sure to add the tiniest whine to his request, in hopes that he would not be questioned. His mouth watered as he pulled the lid off the tray. Double portions of his favorite things, all still hot and steaming. "Do you like any of this?"

"What do you mean, Harrison?" He asked, at a loss.

Pointing to the food. "This is fantastic, but way too much. If there's anything you like here, I'm happy to share." He took a sheet of parchment and a chocolate frog box and transfigured them into a second set of dishes for his strange friend.

For a little while, they chatted and ate, but at four thirty or so, Dobby had to get to the kitchens to start breakfast for the school. That didn't bother Harrison, because with classes and everything, this was the only free time he'd have today before his detention and he needed to get those potions brewed before then. Yesterday had been worse than the day before, and he had a feeling that tonight's wouldn't be any better.

--

During his free period, Harrison met Dobby at the entrance to the Chamber. He warded the door, despite being abandoned because of Myrtle, just in case.

"Why are we in the girls bathroom, Harrison?" Dobby asked, obviously confused.

"Open," was Harrison's reply.

The elf's eyes widened dramatically as the sinks shifted. He slowly approached the edge and peered down the tunnel on his hands and knees. "Oh my."

Harrison snorted. "There are probably other ways in, but I haven't had much of a chance to explore since my second year. I remember there being a bunch of alcoves that looked like they might be doors that I didn't get to look into. Let's change that, yeah?"

Dobby nodded with determination.

After searching the Chamber thoroughly, Harrison and Dobby were pleased to find out that in addition to the massive room he'd fought the basilisk, there were eleven joining rooms that were in fantastic condition. As they were warded to keep out anything or anyone uninvited, no animals were able to get in either. Harrison had felt the wards and easily went inside, his Slytherin side warming in delight. He felt a strong sense of home as the wards rippled across his skin to allow him entry. Yes, this was perfect.

"So, other than the main chamber and the tunnels leading through, the only thing that needs done are dust removal charms and air purifying." Dobby said with an appreciative nod. "Since we elves are warded out, those will have to fall on you, but I'm happy to show you how they work. Between myself and three other elves that I know are willing to help you, we can have the entire chamber done in two days."

"That's excellent, Dobby." Harrison smiled eagerly.

"Harrison, may I ask you for something?" Dobby wondered, fidgeting with his horribly mismatched clothes. "Not just for me, but the other three as well..."

"We've been over this, Dobby. You can talk to me about anything."

"I know that. I do. It's just... It's a big favor." He sighed and sat on a large piece of stone that had been smashed out of the wall some time ago. "Before I ask though, can you tell me what you know about house elves?"

"Honestly, not much. Just that rubbish that Hermione spouts off about all of you being treated miserably and that you're all brainwashed slaves. Personally, I'm not sure I believe it, but that's about all I've heard. Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Only because I know how much you dislike her, I'm going to tell you the truth. Granger is an idiot. No matter how many times I've told her, she doesn't listen. Elves are born to serve. It's not a whim, and it's not slavery, and as far as brainwashing goes, I have no idea what that is. Either way, she's probably wrong about that too. With house elves, our magic comes from the families we are bound to. Without magic, we die. Yes, I was abused by my last family, but I could feel the dark magic on them. They weren't in control of themselves. So, yes, you did save me from a bad situation, but that was not the standard for our treatment. As for slavery, she's wrong there too. While we are technically able to be called at any time, we generally have shifts that are shared between all family elves. Despite being at the beck and call of our masters, we honestly only do about six hours worth of work per day. As for not getting paid, our services pay for our living spaces, food, uniforms and the like. We don't really want for much, and the work isn't usually too difficult. The more house elves that a family has, the easier it is for everyone. If a house elf goes more than six months without a master, then we die."

"Wow, Dobby. I had no idea." Harrison's eyebrows lifted at the new information. "Alright, now that you've given me that bit of information, what's your favor?"

"As there is a stigma that comes from walking out on a family, most of us won't do it, even though we can. That being said, we will walk away if we have another master, a better master, to go to. My question is... Will you take over as Master for myself and the three that will help me with this chamber? None of them like the Headmaster, and the magic we get from him is volatile at best. It also gives us personality traits that are not necessarily our own." He lifted the hem of his hot pink shirt and pointed to the gray shorts he was wearing. "Before starting here, I never would have chosen to dress the way I do, and neither would the others. In our quarters there is a large pile of strange muggle children's clothes that we are expected to wear. It's shameful, but we have to do it for our Master. Will you help us?"

Er... "I don't see why not. Well, can I at least meet them first?"

Dobby gave a firm nod and snapped his fingers. Three similarly attired elves popped up between them.

"What can elvesies be doing for young Snakey-tongued Master?" The smallest elf asked with a bow.

He handed them cuffs. "Well, for starters, you can call me Harrison. And you don't have to speak that way. Dobby speaks to me like a person, and I would like you to as well, unless it makes you uncomfortable."

Their huge eyes went wide, and two of them looked at Dobby, probably to see if this was some kind of joke.

"How about this?" Harrison began and stood. "You lot chat for a few minutes while I start in on some of those charms for the dust and whatnot."

"That sounds good. Are you going to skip dinner this evening? Again?"

Oh, it was later than he thought. "Yeah, I guess I am. Oops."

Dobby snorted lightly. "I'll get you dinner."

One of the elves gasped. "Dobby should not be talking to Master that way! Dobby is bad elf!"

Harrison stopped and turned. "No, he's not. Dobby is a damn good elf that knows what I need and when I need it. He speaks the way I asked him to."

"Fipsy is sorry Master Snakey-tongue! Fipsy doesn't like when Dobby be's laughing at Masters." The elf, Fipsy, was crying now.

"It's fine, Fipsy. Dobby and I have a relationship that we are both comfortable with. He laughed because he knows how distracted I get sometimes, and I lose track of time. Yet again, I have missed a meal, and Dobby has reminded me."

"And I don't have to ask what he wants because I already know that he's not picky, and when he's busy, he prefers sandwiches because they can be carried around while he's doing whatever he needs to." Dobby pinched the bridge of his long nose. "I told you all that you don't have to act like this around Harrison. He doesn't like it."

"But..." one of the unknown elves protested weakly. "But Wizzies all want elvesies to-"

"Alright, that's enough." Harrison reclaimed his seat. "Dobby, could you bring food for all of us? I think I'll have to talk to them instead of having you do it."

With a snap of his fingers, Dobby vanished.

"Have a seat. First off, what are your names?"

"We be's Fipsy, Pohy, and Eppie." Fipsy mumbled.

Each of them bowed at the mention of their names.

"Great. It's nice to meet you all. Now, it might make things easier if I explain why Dobby and I interact with each other. I can tell that you're all a bit confused. Has he ever told you how he was treated by his former Master?"

"Yes, he told us. He couldn't give the names, but he did tell us." Eppie said nervously.

Thank Merlin! Eppie speaks properly! "Good. That helps. Dobby and I are casual with each other because we were both treated badly by our families. We have a lot in common. We were both treated like lesser beings, and that wasn't fair to either of us, so we make it a point to treat each other like people. I don't command him, and he still helps me when I ask him to. I've already told him that he can tell me no if I ask something he doesn't like. It doesn't bother me at all. I would like to be on the same terms with you three, if that's agreeable to you. If it isn't, I won't be offended. Ultimately, the choice is yours."

Pohy and Eppie were close to tears. "Can elfies- I mean, can we bond with you?"

Fipsy looked at them in shock, but Harrison smiled.

"I would be honored."

The two hugged each other, crying happily.

'Is Dumbledore that horrible to them?' Harrison wondered. If so, it wouldn't really surprise him, but to see these two so thrilled at the idea of being away from the Headmaster... It kind of hurt. "I'll be bonding to Dobby as well. We've been close for about three years, and I'd like to make it a lot longer. But, listen. I only have a couple of rules, and I don't believe in violent punishments. First off, I don't like the way you've been forced to act. If we're to be bound, then I want you to be yourselves. Please don't ever grovel. It isn't dignified, and I don't feel the need to humiliate people without reason. Second, and this isn't about the way you speak, but I want you to speak to me freely. If you have questions, ask. If you're uncomfortable with something, tell me. Third, until I leave school for the summer, unfortunately you'll have to act the way you do now. I don't like it, but like I said, it's only until summer break. When we're alone, or with the Weasley twins, then be yourselves." He really did need to talk to Fred and George about that. Right now they had no idea, and he didn't want them to be caught off guard and upset the elves by mistake. "Fipsy? I can see that you're not quite sure about this. What's on your mind?"

"Master Snakey-tongue says nice things, but Fipsy is scared of being bad elf." Fipsy was staring at her wiggling toes.

He didn't like the sound of that. "I'm not one to punish, Fipsy. I've been on that end of a belt too many times to count, and I don't appreciate it. You should be treated as an employee, just like any other person with any other job."

There was an awkward moment of silence before she stopped fidgeting and launched herself into Harrison's arms.

"Shit!" He staggered back and tripped over the debris on the stone floor.

Fipsy jumped back and scrambled to apologize. "Fipsy is sorry! Fipsy didn't mean to-"

"Calm down," Harrison panted, unsure if he was talking to himself or the crying elf. "Just give me a bit of warning next time. I'm not overly fond of being touched unexpectedly." That even sounded stupid for him to say, but unfortunately, it was the truth.

"I'll explain it later." Dobby said, setting a tray on his vacated seat. "Come on. Up you get."

Knowing how strong house elves really were, despite their tiny size, Harrison took Dobby's extended hand and pulled himself upright.

"So, Dobby, tell me," Harrison said, wiping the breadcrumbs off his hands. "How does this bonding thing work?"

"It's very simple." Dobby popped another strange looking bug into his mouth. "Just one drop of your blood put on each of our foreheads as you say 'I Lord so and so, bind thee, say our names, to the House of so and so'. Since you have so many titles, you can pick and choose which elf falls under which house, or we can all be under the same one. It just needs done one at a time. See? Simple."

Harrison nodded thoughtfully.

Dobby rolled his eyes at his fellow elves, who were all crouched behind one of the larger pieces of stone.

The hiding elves went still. "That's easy enough. Now, why are you three hiding?"

"Most humans are not used to seeing our food. It's often offputting for them, so we hide it." Dobby explained, tilting his bowl for the young wizard to see. Inside the bowl was a large amount of what looked like dehydrated beetles, but they were narrow and had green spots on their backs. "They're a Scandinavian beetle, groundscutters. They taste a bit like cloves."

"Fair enough. Will you three come out now?" Harrison was not looking forward to training them. With Dobby, all it had taken was a simple conversation, but it seemed like he would have to put a lot of work into his new elves.

After some scrambling and fierce crunching, they popped back into view, but their bowls had vanished. They were wiping their mouths and trying pretty hard not to make it obvious that they were still munching on the beetles.

Naturally, Dobby made a show of crunching on his slowly, right in front of their new Master. "Want to try one?" He joked with a smirk.

"I've eaten bugs before," came the truthful reply. For four days over the summer, he'd not been given food and the only source he had in the cupboard had been the spiders and the mouldy cheese that he'd stolen out of the bin in his aunt's kitchen. Knowing how many spiders it took to start feeling like he'd actually eaten was one thing he wished he'd never been forced to learn. Just to see the look on Dobby's face, he took two. "You're right, they do taste like cloves. Strange, but not half bad."

If he thought Dobby's raised eyebrows were funny, the other elves faces were absolutely priceless.

--

In the end, it had taken the elves two days as promised, but despite having much less to do, Harrison's part in the Chamber had taken him over a week. It was so worth it.

The entire place had been dank and dark grey, but when a bit of elf scrubbing was involved, the group of five was stunned to find that beneath the grime, the floors were actually polished obsidian throughout every room. While the walls were stone, they found and repaired two dozen beautiful, intricately woven tapestries, some of which worked like the talking portraits, and hung them proudly.

Seven of the rooms off of the main chamber were bedrooms. He was astonished that those rooms were so warm and cozy, most of which didn't have the typical Slytherin coloring. Only the master suite was done up in green, silver and black, but it was tasteful. That was easily his new favorite place in the castle. A positively massive four poster bed with emerald green hangings that had silver filigree and the bedding itself was black silk, also with similar silver accents. There were several black iron wall sconces casting warm flickering light, and all of the furniture was some in a rich cherry wood. The attached study and sitting room were much the same.

Harrison wouldn't have thought that the decorations went together at all, but they somehow turned a dark and dreary place into a warmly inviting home. Now that they were finished, it was time to bring in the twins. They were going to love the fully stocked, and perfectly preserved potions lab the most.

"Excuse me, my lady," Harrison sweetly said to a tapestry of a multicolored snake, draped across several tree branches.

"Yes?" She repied, cocking her head to the side.

"I've been coming here for a few days, and I have to wonder... Do you happen to know of any other entrances to get into this miraculous place?" It was worth a shot. And he'd noticed early on that flattery was a good way to get Salazar's portraits to like him. "As Salazar was easily one of the most intelligent wizards of his time, I find it hard to believe that the sliding tunnel was the only way in. He seemed too practical for that."

"You are correct, young lord." She hissed, preening. "My Master only added the childish entrance for his friends. Godric and Helga enjoyed it very much. Mistress Ravenclaw was the only other person, besides Master Slytherin, to use the main entrance. Such lovely people."

"Could you perhaps tell me where it is? I keep having to repair my clothes after the slide, and it is quite trying."

She narrowed her eyes for a moment. "Only those deemed worthy will be able to use it, but I will let you try, if for no other reason than my curiosity and amusement should you fail." Her hissing laughter was sarcastic at best. "There is a revolving staircase behind the portrait of a large dragon in the master's nesting suite."

When he found the dragon, it only asked his name and house. The only issue was the language barrier. Snakes and dragons were kind of like distant cousins, so maybe he would understand, at least partially. "My name is Harrison Potter Snape, and I was wrongfully placed in Gryffindor. I was meant to be placed in the Great House of Slytherin, but it seems that I, as well as Godric's Hat, were confunded by the Headmaster."

"Why do you not speak human tongue?" The dragon adjusted itself, getting closer to the frame to have a better look.

"I suppose you could say that my human speak has been broken." Harrison made sure he didn't laugh at the strange wording.

"The language you speak is not my own, but I've not heard the serpents' tongue in a long while." The dragon, he still couldn't guess its gender, cocked its head.

Not knowing how dragons kept time, Harrison wondered if it was about fifty years, or closer to a thousand. "May I ask who the last person was?" It didn't seem like this part of the Chamber had been used in Tom Riddle's time as a student, but it was nearly impossible to tell. The warding spells that kept everything clean would have erased any evidence.

"The last was my Master's Heir. It was many years ago, and I do not remember his name." The dragon puffed and two perfectly formed smoke rings billowed from it's nostrils. "He was a very sweet boy, very helpful to any who asked. His name was... a puzzle of some sort. I do not recall."

A puzzle? "Was it Riddle, perhaps?"

"That's it! Riddle!"

Harrison smiled. "I haven't got the time at the moment, but I would like to talk to you more. You're quite intriguing."

"I will agree to that, as you have been deemed worthy of entering my Master's Chamber. Personally, I find you amusing." The dragon unfurled it's wings and the tapestry began pulling itself up, revealing a dark pathway accompanied by the sound of stone grating on stone.

As he stood on the revolving staircase, he noted that it slowed as he reached a door, but picked up speed again as he made no move to exit. This occurred each time a door was approached. Were these the exits to each floor of the main castle? When he had more time, he would need to see where exactly each door let out. That would certainly make things much easier. Deciding to get out at the next door, he waited patiently for the stairs to slow.

Much to his surprise, he found himself on the fifth floor near his Head of House's personal quarters. Hmm. Oh well, he could dwell on that later. Right now, detention was calling.

--

"Harrison," a voice was calling nervously. "Harrison, wake up!"

Everything was foggy. It felt as though his Harrison's head was filled with cotton. He whimpered. He didn't want to get up. Sleeping was surely more welcoming than whatever the voice wanted. That's it, he thought. Not getting up.

"Please wake up!" This voice was different, but sounded similar.

He liked the voices, but he needed sleep. Why couldn't they see that? He ignored them and drifted back off.

When a hand gripped his shoulder and began to shake, he was jerked back into a hazy reality, but couldn't seem to open his eyes. So heavy. Even the panic he felt was clouded, though he did strike out towards the voice. "Don't touch... please... sorry... no more..." he mumbled incoherently, still batting weakly at the voice.

A sharp intake of breath made him flinch. He had connected with something, and apparently hurt them. This was not going to end well for Harrison. "Sorry... din' mean it... sorry... please don'... hur'ss... sorry... s'rry... s'rry..."

"It's alright, love," the voice said soothingly. "No one's going to hurt you."

"What do we do? He'll kill us if he wakes up in the infirmary again."

"I know that, Georgie, but I don't think we have any choice."

"No!... No... 'nfirm'y... can' go... 'nfirm'y... Pohy... help... 'gain..."

"What did he say?"

Pop!

"Again, Master Snakey-tongue?" There was a tutting sound somewhere.

"Poh... no 'nfirm'y..."

A snap and clinking glass. "That's right, Master Snakey-tongue, no infirmary. Open up, now."

Harrison whimpered.

"If you don't," the squeaky voice said in warning. "Pohy has to do it for you. Do you want Pohy to touch you?"

He tried to shake his head, but couldn't muster the energy and his head fell to the side.

"Pohy has to touch Master Snakey-tongue. Remember, Master Snakey-tongue promised no hitting elfies."

There were long skinny fingers on his jaw, gently pulling it open.

"Hold Master Snakey-tongue's hands nicely."

As fingers entwined with his own, he panicked and squeezed. Cool liquid dribbled into his mouth and it tasted horrible, but familiar. He couldn't figure out what it was, though he did know that he'd taken it before and it was helpful. Now he can't breathe! He was choking on the liquid! It never made him choke before!

"Okay, okay," the squeaky voice said kindly. "Pohy help."

The long fingers were massaging his throat and the liquid went down.

--

When Harrison woke, he didn't see the crimson curtains he was used to.

"You're awake!" George shouted, sounding relieved.

"Too loud." Harrison groaned, covering his aching head with a silky pillow. Silky? Oh, he was in the Chamber.

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly.

"What happened, Harrison?" Fred asked quietly.

Without thinking, he tried to answer, but the words died before they could pass his lips. He groaned again. "Fucking compulsions."

"Compulsions?" George asked. "Dumbles or Ginny?"

"Neither. It's bloody-" His throat constricted painfully. Shit. He stopped trying to tell them who it was and the pressure on his throat eased immediately.

"I've got an idea," Freddie said suddenly. "Georgie and I can each give you an option, and you can point to which one is right. I'll guess first, then Georgie will go second."

Harrison nodded.

"Male?" Fred guessed.

"Female?" George guessed.

"Georgie."

"Teacher,"

"Student,"

"Freddie,"

"Old,"

"Young,"

"Freddie,"

"McGonagall?"

"Sinistra?"

Harrison shook his head.

"Umbridge?"

"Hooch?"

As Harrison was about to confirm that it was the Toad, he couldn't make himself move or speak.

"Well, I guess that answers that. Hooch doesn't have much to do with the students beyond first year. I mean, there's always the games, but she's pretty neutral."

"So, is it Umbitch?" George asked for confirmation.

Again, he could not respond.

"Got it," they said together, with identical dangerous smirks.

Chapter 11

Chapter Notes

I'm not sure why, but I'm not overly confident on this chapter... lemme know if it needs something

The twins had certainly come through on their promise... as well as any group of unsupervised students could. Though the credit of Umbridge's slow decent into what can only be called madness, was gifted to the Weasley twins, they were merely the ones who got the ball rolling. After several well laid traps, including dying all of her clothes muddy brown, turning all of the images of her creepy decorative plates from kittens to repulsive slimy monsters that liked to screech loudly at the most inopportune times, and making her constant throat clearing into a toad's croak, it was only the beginning. From there, students from all houses began harassing the woman. Some third year Hufflepuffs decided that it would be a good idea to flood the woman's office with a clear liquid that smelled suspiciously like raw sewage. While they couldn't exactly take a bow, Professor Flitwick made sure to announce that he while he was able to clean out the liquid, his charms work to get rid of the smell had not gone as well as planned, and indeed made the scent stronger, but he did award the guilty party twenty points for their creative thinking... on a completely unrelated matter, of course. The Slytherin sixth year prefects were a fan favorite though. And all they did was slip some kind of root into the DADA professors tea. That in itself was far from impressive, but what they did with it was astonishing. The root, that no one could identify (though Snape was seen smiling as she screamed from her hovering stretcher) made her hallucinate. For the short time that she was being hovered through the halls, she told some imaginary person that she was pushed into a very deep hole in the floor that was filled with vicious man-eating slugs with fangs and invisible people pelting her with cut up lemons. She screamed about how much the lemon juice burned her cuts and bite marks, but in reality, she didn't have a scratch. For the next week, Snape made sure to add two points for every correctly answered question in class by any Slytherin.

Funnily enough, no one minded.

For the first time, Harrison was greatly enjoying Hogwarts, and nothing was coming after him. It was wonderful. Since the Great Pink- well... The Great Brown Toad cancelled quidditch, Harrison found he had a lot of time to just be a student. He was able to study (in the Chamber) in peace, hang out with Neville and the twins, and just breathe.

"Hey, Harrison?" George began.

Harrison finished the page he was on before looking up from the massive tome that was resting on his lap. "Yeah?"

"Freddie and I, and a bunch of others, have been thinking." He let out a long breath. "And we've decided that we need your help. Umbitch is less than useless, and we aren't learning a damn thing from her. So, we want you to teach us."

While trying desperately to pick his dropped jaw off the floor, Harrison looked at Fred and Neville, who were nodding in agreement.

"Why me?" He asked eventually.

"Because, even before the Toad, you've always been way ahead of everyone else in Defense." Freddie shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And, now that you've decided to... unblock your potential for school, we need your help."

Immediately, Harrison knew what he was implying, but not directly saying. Even though Neville had joined into their little friend group, he still didn't know about anything that had happened.

"Yeah!" Neville said excitedly. "The Toad's teaching is so bad that I'm getting straight O's."

They stared at him confusedly.

"Uh, Nev. You know that's a good thing, right?"

He groaned. "Look, I'm not stupid, okay? I know that. The only thing she's got us doing is book work. I'm good at that. Always have been. My problem is practicals. My problem with her class is that we aren't doing any practicals. Knowing how to read is not the same thing as being able to do it. Sure, you get the gist of it, but to be able to do anything, you have to actually work at it. Half our OWL grades is demonstrating the work. And I can't do any of it."

Oh. "Well, I guess that makes sense," Harrison supplied awkwardly. Makes sense in a sad way. He turned his attention back toward the twins. "So, exactly how many are there in this 'bunch of others'?"

They hesitated.

"Most of the school thinks I'm completely mad, in case you don't remember."

"Well, there are about sixty that don't think so..." Fred said with a hopeful look on his face.

"Sixty?! Have you lost your mind?"

George shook his head vehemently. "No, that's the beauty of it! Nearly every NEWT student wants your help! And a bunch of fifth and sixth years too!"

Harrison blinked. "Why the hell would NEWT students want my help? They're two years ahead of- Oh. They want a show."

"A show?" Freddie asked. "What do you mean?"

He groaned. "No one really believes what happened that night. They want me to make an arse out of myself."

"Not really." George smirked. "Think about it. Who would know the truth better than a bunch of Slytherins? How many of them have family members that are either Death Eaters themselves, or know Death Eaters? Really, Harrison."

"It's not just the Slytherins that fall into that category. With the level of intermarrying, about seventy-five percent of the purebloods in this school are related to DE's and they know it. I just wish I knew why they were pushing so hard to deny it. Sure, I get why the actual supporters are hiding, but what about the rest that know I'm telling the truth?"

"There are more people on your side than you think, Harrison," Neville said calmly. "Yes, they know that he's back. But, try to understand it from their point of view. They're scared. If anyone so much as agrees with you publicly, their families could be politically and financially destroyed. Or killed. No one wants that to happen to their own or anyone else. They are desperate for someone to give them a chance at defending themselves. With the MT here, were all going to be sitting ducks by the time the truth comes out."

George raised a brow. "MT?"

"Ministry Toad." Neville shrugged.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, they all burst out laughing.

"So, will you do it?" Freddie asked hopefully.

Merlin, Harrison thought to himself. Freddie should never be able to pout like that. It's too adorable.

Where the hell did that come from?! Shaking his head quickly to clear his embarrassing train of thought, he sighed. "I have one condition, and my dear twins, you won't like it."

They looked at each other with a hint of nervousness. "What is it?" They asked in unison.

"We're going to do this by the books." Harrison replied simply. "We are going to have to figure out a list of students that want to participate, two faculty members to approve, and find a place that we can use. Also, I'll need time to work on lesson plans and scheduling that the staff will agree with."

There were groans all around.

"Okay," Fred said slowly. "But how are we going to do that with Umbitch? She obviously doesn't want us to learn anything, so how are you-"

"As long as we follow all the rules, she can't say a damn thing. We go to the Heads of House. McGonagall, Sprout, Snape and Flitwick."

"D'you really think they'll go for it?" Neville wondered aloud. "I mean, yeah, they're happy with what the students are doing to MT, but d'you think they'll want to take such an obvious stand against her? With what's going on now they can all claim ignorance, but if they sign off on it, they could get into a lot of trouble."

"Not necessarily." Harrison zoned out for a minute.

Neville waved his hand in front of his dorm mate's face.

"He's thinking his way around it." The twins explained. "Just give it a moment."

"Got it!" Harrison said excitedly, snapping out of his stupor. "We don't just get their approval. We get them involved!"

The others gave him blank looks, but Harrison just grinned, clicking his tongue rings across his teeth.

Two days later, Harrison made his way to the dungeons, sans his minuscule friend group. He wasn't thrilled at the idea of leaving them out of the 'meeting' but their presence wouldn't be appreciated. Harrison didn't mind though. In truth, he was coming around to the idea of spending time with his... father, without having that level of expectation that most people seem to get from their... parents.

Merlin, what is wrong with me? He wondered. This isn't exactly new information, so why is it still so hard to say? Or, in this case, think.

Shaking off those thoughts, he knocked on the large wooden door.

"Enter!" He heard from inside.

With one last deep breath, he pushed the door open. "Hello, sir."

The man was sitting at his desk, presumably marking papers, if the violent slashing of his quill was any indication. He looked up. "Just a moment, Potter."

Ah. Back to Potter. Perfect.

He made one final, very large 'X' on the parchment and pushed it aside, then picked up something small and shiny. Hooking the cuff onto his ear, he sighed. "Yes?"

"If you're busy, I can come back later. It isn't urgent."

"It is no matter, Potter." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Too much longer with this drivel and I might begin setting fire to the so-called 'homework' of incompetant students."

Harrison snorted, knowing that before this year, his would have been one of the first to be engulfed by flames. "I have a proposal for you."

Snape raised a brow and rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, do go on." He said sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks so much." Harrison replied with the same level of sarcasm. "Here goes nothing, I suppose." He handed the potions master seven folders clipped together. "I've been approached by several students to start a defense club from all Houses, third year and up."

"And, why precisely, should I care?" He sneered.

"Because I need permission to start it from two professors."

"While that is true, I find myself at a loss. Why approach me for this undoubtedly foolish endeavor? Would it not be more prudent to gain permission from your own Head of House, or indeed, the Headmaster?"

"To put it simply, sir, I don't trust them." Harrison said bluntly.

Snape blinked. "So, I suppose this is your way of stating that you trust me over those who have treated you like a king among peasants? I sincerely doubt that."

"You can believe anything you want to, sir. It doesn't change the facts. Our esteemed High Inquisitor is slowly taking over the school, and there are few staff member that she doesn't find fault with. As an educator, she respects you. If I'm to do as asked, I will need the support of the small pool of professors that are the least likely to cause problems in the future."

"That's your excuse for coming to me?" He scoffed. "The best of a bad situation? You certainly know how to flatter people, don't you, Potter?"

Don't say it. Don't say it. "You're expecting flattery, sir? Perhaps I sought the wrong person after all." Oops.

Were their roles reversed, Severus would have said the exact same thing. What the hell was going on with Potter? Before he could ask, Potter unknowingly interrupted him.

"By the way, sir," he said calmly, glancing at one of the numerous papers on the desk. "If you were to swap out the Black Mamba venom on this, you'd be able to offset the respiratory issues that would crop up. If you used Asp venom, Egyptian not European, the most you would have to contend with is fatigue. While either could result in death, I noticed that you have moonstones and heather, so if you wanted to exchange the venoms successfully, toss in a sprig's worth of powdered dill."

The potions Master gaped, but only for a split second. "Had I wanted your opinion, rest assured Mr. Potter, I would have asked for it."

He shrugged. "Understood, sir. I merely thought that you'd appreciate not having the subject of your potion being in agony for so long. Have a nice day, professor."

"So?" The twins said eagerly, practically jumping on him the moment he went into the library. "What did he say?"

"He scoffed, snorted and rolled his eyes." Harrison replied honestly. "Then I may or may not have insulted him with sarcasm."

They groaned in unison.

"I give it till Friday before he caves. Shall we have a betting pool? I'm thinking a five sickle buy in." It was already Wednesday.

Grinning, the twins agreed.

"Hmm," George said. "I'll take that bet, but I want Sunday evening. He'll likely be done with all his grading, and everyone knows that if there's a detention scheduled for Sundays, he foists them off on Filch or Hagrid. He'll have time to think that way." He offered up the sickles.

"Okay then," Fred nodded, quietly putting his coins on their table. "But I'm guessing... Saturday. He'll probably be so fed up with everyone and everything that he makes a snap decision and gives in."

Neville shakes his head. "I want Tuesday. It's Snape, so he will probably want to make you sweat about it. That, and the fact that he only has two classes on Tuesdays, neither of which involves Gryffindor, and the first doesn't start until eleven. He's more relaxed then. Besides, you can always tell what kind of day he's having by the way he drinks his morning coffee. Every Tuesday, he has three cups and sips at it." Rather than the five sickles, he puts three galleons next to the pile.

Out of nowhere, another hand with pale skin, snakes between Fred and Neville, adding a fistful of knuts and sickles. "Neville will win." A dreamy voice said. "He made his bet and he's covered in Chimucupians. They're wonderful luck for small risks."

And with that, Luna settled herself next to George. She sighed happily and smiled at Harrison. "I'm so glad that you've finally gotten rid of those pesky Mimpleflimpies, Harrison. You look much better."

Harrison, who had spent a fair amount of time with Luna this year, just nodded and continued taking out his books. The others, on the other hand, were gaping at her.

"Tomorrow night would be a good time to approach Professor Sprout. She has some moonflowers that need to be harvested and plants make her happiest."

"What?" They asked together. How is she giving them advice on something that she shouldn't even know about? Who is this girl?

"Thanks, Luna." Harrison said, still digging in his bag.

Before he could ask if anyone had a spare quill, Luna was placing a lovely peacock feather in front of him. It was strange, though. Rather than the vibrant colors of a peacock, it was black and white with hints of silver, while maintaining the unmistakable pattern that they were known for.

Neville and the twins were still watching the new girl with massive amounts of confusion, but upon seeing the immediate acceptance by Harrison, who didn't seem bothered by this situation in the slightest, they resumed their studying.

After about an hour, Luna spoke up. "May I come with you the next time you go down to the Chamber? The philionops told me that there is a wonderful library full of books that the Bumble Bee has removed from this one."

Completely unsurprised by this, Harrison agreed easily. "Of course, Luna. We'll be there tomorrow evening, at about 7. There's a sort of schedule that we figured out. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, we meet at seven. Wednesday and Friday, we have dinner down there, and on the weekends, we play it by ear."

And that was that. Luna was adopted by the group.

"So, Luna." Fred said happily. "How have you been? We haven't seen you much over the summers lately."

Without looking up from her books, she replied. "Daddy has been taking me on lovely holidays to find rare magical beings. On our last trip, we didn't find what we were looking for, but I did manage to find the key."

"What key would that be, Luna Bell?"

She looked up with a happy smile. "What a lovely name." With that, she rummaged around her school bag and pulled out a ceramic jar. "This is the key that will eventually get the Father Snake to agree. I will give it to him when I have class Tuesday morning."

"What is it?"He wondered aloud.

"Freely given tears of seven sprites. Not to worry, they were happy tears." As she stowed the jar away, the others followed suit. "They mingle beautifully with naturally shed basilisk skin."

Harrison grinned, suddenly thrilled that Dobby had had the foresight and skills needed to harvest the basilisk parts. Honestly, he was planning on cutting it into large chunks and canning it, for lack of a better term. Apparently that was NOT a good idea. According to Dobby, using magic to deconstruct the magical snake would counteract most of the natural properties. Dobby and the other elves used long, sharp blades to dissect it by hand. It had taken nearly a week. That was certainly saying something, as the elves were unnaturally quick and didn't tire easily. It was surprising to Harrison when he found out that house elves only needed three hours of sleep per night.

He couldn't wait to see the look on the typically dour man's face.

--

Here it was, Harrison thought to himself as he made his way down to the dungeons. This was the moment of truth. Despite Luna's confidence, Harrison wasn't so sure. Maybe after Yule break would be better? Maybe the goblins would have him sorted out and he would happily agree? Yeah right. He highly doubted that the man was changed that much. It seemed to be as natural as breathing for the potions Master.

Harrison stopped, not even having thought about that. What if he didn't have many compulsions? Sure, the man didn't know his family, but what if he wasn't compelled to be a dick? What if he just was one? Did it even matter? As a fully emancipated adult, he wouldn't be forced to live with his... parents.

Nope. No matter what happened, he was still going to go through with his plans of living on his own. That was absolutely non-negotiable. He'd actually borrowed a strange looking bird (he still couldn't find out what it was, even with Slytherin's library) from Luna to send a letter to Griphook. In the letter, he'd detailed a few things that he wanted in a house and would not budge on, but then added a few things that he thought might be nice. If nothing met his needs, he was fully prepared to buy something that was close, then do the work on it himself.
It didn't matter if the professor was much changed. Harrison was used to making something out of nothing and would continue to do so. It doesn't matter. Not at all.

"Sir?" Harrison said from the open doorway. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"Come in," came the tired reply.

"Thank you, sir."

"What is it?" He asked, not looking up.

Based on the man's tone, Harrison was doubting Luna more and more... at least about this. "Well, sir, I've been doing some thinking, and I think it was unfair of me to ask you to supervise the defense club, the way that I did."

That got his attention. He raised a brow. "Is that so?"

Harrison nodded. "I've been thinking like a Gryffindor, but failed to realize that I was dealing with a Slytherin."

Professor Snape leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And?"

"And I've decided that the best way, in this case, is the Slytherin way, to get what I want."

Harrison had to force himself not to react as the professor laughed. LAUGHED! Since when did Snape laugh?! He didn't even know the man was capable of that!

Regaining his composure... mostly, he cleared his throat. "And you believe yourself to possess the cunning of a Slytherin?"

It was Harrison's turn to smile. "Not so much cunning, sir, as a common trade. It's quite simple. I asked something of you, but offered nothing in return. That was unfair. Now, I'll give you something in exchange. Simple. Fair."

"What is this supposed 'something' that you believe will sway me to do what you want?" Snape scoffed. "Is it as utterly plebeian as a few sickles a week?"

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. "Not at all, sir." He pulled the ceramic jar out of his deep robe pocket and sat it on top of the stack of papers. "Since I've given you a full list of of information regarding the club, you'll have to agree with all of it if you accept what I'm offering. Or don't, and I'll keep this," he pointed at the jar. "Honestly, I'm the one getting the short end of the wand in this deal."

Still, he made no move to touch it. "And why is that, Mr. Potter?"

At least he's still saying Mister. That in itself made him realize that this might not all be in vain after all. "Well, I'm sure a Potions Master such as yourself could find roughly fifteen thousand things to do with three ounces of naturally shed basilisk skin." He made sure to add the fifteen thousand to the statement, showing he knew the value of his 'trade'. Five thousand galleons was the going rate of the skin, per ounce.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Amusing, Potter. Truly."

Wait, what?

"I do hope you didn't spend too much on whatever you think you bought. I assure you, no matter the cost, you overpaid."

Oh! Is that all? Harrison smirked. "In that case, you won't mind examining it, if for no other reason to make fun of my gullibility. By all means, check it."

"Where did you come across someone boasting to have such a thing on hand?" He didn't take his eyes off of Harrison when he finally picked up the jar.

"Nowhere, sir." Harrison replied, amused. "It's mine."

Slowly, he tipped the jar until the skin slid out onto the parchment. After examining it thoroughly, he had to admit it. It was exactly what the boy said it was. This isn't possible. "Basilisks have been extinct for over one hundred years. Where did you of all people stumble across this much shed-"

"This much?" It was his turn to scoff, choosing to ignore the jibe. "No, this is nothing. And do you not remember my second year? The petrifications, the notes in blood. It wasn't just the skin."

"What in Salazar's name are you talking about?" Snape asked, confused. "Whatever that monster had been, there was nothing left of it after the Headmaster killed it and destroyed the Chamber. Where did you get this? The truth, this time."

"That is the truth. What the hell did Dumbledore tell you about that night?" Harrison was shocked.

With his mask of indifference back in place, he was able to hide his confusion. There was no possible way that a simple overpowered blasting hex could kill a basilisk. Their skin is impervious to magic. Only goblin steel could penetrate the leather. There was no way the Slytherin monster was a basilisk.

"The Headmaster was able to find the entrance, but needed your ability to speak parseltongue. He went in to find Miss Weasley, took her to yourself at the door, then blasted the beast. With too much magic, the blast was uncontrolled, and you and Miss Weasley were too far away for his shield to reach." He folded his hands in his lap.

Harrison's jaw dropped. "You didn't think to get any actual details? There are holes in that story big enough to put my fist through. He wasn't even there! He never saw the Chamber! How did he explain Lockhart being there? Or Ron? Or what caused the petrifications? Or what Ginny had to do with it? Did you really question nothing?" There were at least a dozen others he could think of, just off the top of his head.

"He never said a word about Lockhart or Mr. Weasley being there." Was the only reply. What else could he say? "It was assumed by all that Lockhart fled the castle that night."

"Yeah, straight into the Janus Thickey unit at St. Mungo's. That idiot caused the cave in." Harrison sighed. "Use the spell. The mind reading one."

That certainly got his attention. "Why would I take your word over the Headmaster's?"

"Just do it." He said firmly. "Think about it. What could I possibly gain from lying about this?"

"There is another way." The man said curiously. "A simpler way. A pensieve."

For a split second, Harrison wondered what he was talking about, but then a passage from 'Delving Into The Mind' by Persephone Raywyle came to mind. A shallow bowl that contained a clear potion would play memories cast into it. He also remembered that there was no spell to remove the memories, but concentrating and holding one's wand to their temple. The pensieve potion had also been listed. It was not an easy thing to make, but on the bright side, it could withstand over a hundred uses before it would begin losing its' effectiveness and blur the previously used memories into the freshly added ones. There was no exact number to switch them out, but that was because some memories were longer than others.

"That will be fine." Harrison eventually said. "Fair warning, after all that nonsense, I had a bit of a run-in with Lord Malfoy. So, don't be too shocked at what you see."

Snape lifted a brow, clearly intrigued.

An hour later, the man finally relented.

It turned out to be a good thing Harrison had decided to get this club up and running through legitimate means, as Umbridge had started her own little club. The Inquisitorial Squad. Now, there were a dozen or so Slytherins running around with more authority than the prefects. The biggest difference between the two was the fact that the Squad didn't have to report or explain any of the detentions and point losses to any of the professors besides the MT, and unlike the others, she was thrilled to have the rest of the houses so far behind.

Within two weeks of the Squad being formed, Slytherin had two hundred and eighty-five points, Ravenclaw had seventy-five, Huffelpuff had thirty, and Gryffindor was at negative one hundred and ninety points. As the hourglasses didn't show negative points, MT had added special counters to the tops of each that would calculate and display only negative numbers. There was not a special counter above the green hourglass.

Chapter 12

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Finally, Harrison's detentions were over. He had had to sneak off twice to brew new batches of blood replenishing potions, in addition to a scar salve that would fade it, but not completely remove it. Honestly, Harrison didn't care. He was covered in scars anyway, so what was one more? For this, he was able to break in the potions lab in the Chamber. It really was incredible. Every ingredient was still as fresh as the day it was packaged. That had excited Fred and George to no end.

Flashback*
They had been in the cluttered abandoned storage room that the twins had been using in secret since the end of their first year. They had cleaned the place up and began using the space to create, test, and store all of their equipment and products.

Today, they were working on something new. It was a potion called Vexatious Hexatious Goo. It was an ingenious little prank that was quite amusing. The target of the prank merely has to touch a minuscule amount of the goop for it to be set into motion. When the target attempted to wipe away the sticky mess, it would expand, covering everything it touched, but only on said target. Harrison had no idea how they did it, but it was completely resistant to anything other than the target. It couldn't come off with spells or charms, or even plain old water. Instead, the target had to kiss three people, and only then would the mess vanish.

With his elbows propped on the work table, Harrison watched in fascination at the flawless synchronicity in which the twins worked. It was mesmerizing to see up close. He loved how they seemed to use telepathy to predict each other's movements. They were fluid in motion.

He smiled as they complained to each other about their too-small space, never once breaking their rhythm.

"We're going to have to find somewhere else to start storing things at this rate." Fred was saying, as he handed George a small knife without prompt.

"There's just too much in here to get anything new going." George agreed, absently passing over a phial of what looked like tiny, bright yellow slugs. "Maybe we can double check the map. See if we can find another closet that no one really goes near."

"I think I saw something we could use near the north tower. It's across from-"

"Or," Harrison interrupted. "You could just ask me."

The twins shared a look, and raised a brow, Fred's right and George's left.

He smirked. "Gentlemen, I know of a place that isn't on any map, because until a few years ago, everyone thought it was a myth. I also know that it is exactly what you need."

"Lead the way," they said with mischievous excitement.

--

They whooped and laughed on the slide down, and 'Oof!'ed as they were tossed out onto the large feather bag that Harrison had transfigured from the massive pile of rodent skeletons.

Each taking one of his arms, they allowed him to lead the way, despite wanting to rush ahead.

He could feel them practically vibrating in anticipation. "Second alcove on the left, from there, go to the last door on the right." Slipping out of their grips, he hitched his chin in the right direction, encouraging them to go ahead.

Walking quickly, clearly wanting to run, they vanished into the alcove.

By the time he got to the desired room, his closest friends were staring around in childlike wonder at the lab.

"Merlin, Harrison," George gaped, marveling at a row of large jars with labels that, like their contents, were still perfectly preserved. "This is incredible."

Fred was inspecting a wall of shelves containing dozens of types of cauldrons and stirring rods and a million other tools, every section holding a handful of variations of each. "Are you sure about letting anyone in here? Especially us?"

"Of course I am," he replied, pleased at how well it had gone over. They were, quite literally, the only two humans that he fully trusted.
*End Flashback*

As Harrison was still (trying) to pretend that he was friends with the Trio of Trash, he had taken to studying with them once or twice a week. It was convenient that studying didn't require him to say too much, and with Hermione's study-fueled tunnel vision, they had always been chastised for talking. On top of that, he and Ron were supposed to be the slackers, so it would make sense that he wouldn't try to talk about their work.

"So, what have you come up with?" Hermione asked out of the blue.

Harrison shook himself out of his thoughts to look at her. He was lost.

"Our career planning meetings with Professor McGonagall!" She huffed, exasperated. "Haven't you been listening?"

He made sure to appear sheepish and guilty.

"So what are you going to do? What am I going to do? There are so many things that I want to do! Maybe studying magical law, then onto the Department for the

Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? Maybe I could work on passing legislation for the rights of creatures? Look at poor Remus! As a werewolf, he isn't allowed to apply for work without telling his employer about his affliction, who will automatically deny him, and what's more, it will be completely legal! He's not allowed to be admitted into any hospital, even if the full moon is weeks off, only saying that he poses safety risks!"

"Hermione!" Ron called out, cutting off her rant. "Breathe, already!"

Despite himself, Harrison smirked at their familiar bickering. It quickly soured his mood when he realized how... normal it all seemed. It was like when he was still Harry. It was then that he realized that he was the only one that changed. In theory, he knew that. He wasn't stupid. But he did underestimate the hurt he still felt. Sure, he had known about this for two months, but the sting was as fresh as if it had only been yesterday.

--

The day before the club was set to have it's first meeting, which was strictly introductory, Professors Snape and Sprout announced their club. Harrison was the 'teacher', but he didn't want his name on it. It was mutually decided, between Harrison and the professors, that if the MT showed up, he was to take a seat and pretend to be the 'student ambassador' that assisted with helping the lower years and struggling students of all years. According to the rules, if a club was formed by a student, they had to be involved in its' management.

For some unfathomable reason, Hermione looked livid at the announcement. While Harrison didn't want anything to do with the girl, he was curious as to why she was so upset. Upset Hermione was not someone to play with. Ron, on the other hand, just seemed bored. Ginny wasn't even paying attention, as she was too busy making doe eyes at Harrison, which he promptly ignored, feeling disgusted.

It wasn't his fault that her whole 'flirty, pouty thing' made her look like a drunk toddler that was blinking way too much. He supposed she was trying to wink, but hadn't figured out how to close one eye, rather than both. It was actually funny in a pathetic sort of way.

An hour or so after they'd been dismissed from the Great Hall, Harrison, along with his group, were able to overhear part of a conversation between MT and professor Snape.

"What I would like to know, Master Snape, is what exactly you will be teaching these students." MT said sweetly.

"The lesson plans concocted by myself and Pomona are little more than shields and flashy bits of nonsense, devised to let the students feel as though they've learned something. I assure you," Snape drawled, sounding disinterested. "I have no intention of arming the students with information that could lead to duels in the corridors and dormitories."

"So, what is it you plan on showing them?"

"Diversionary tactics. Ways to distract an opponent, while giving them the chance to alert the authorities of any illegal activity, though they will feel they are learning proper defense, such as what you teach. It will seem that they have the upper hand, while in truth, they will be taught to respect the laws, and obey."

"Excellent, Master Snape. Good night."

With that, the conversation was over. Harrison removed his hand from the wall. From inside the twins' old testing/storage room, he was able to manipulate the stone to dissolve in all but appearance from the outside, to listen to anything on the other side of the wall. It was purely accidental that Harrison found this ability. A few days earlier, he had been in the library researching various things to go over in the club, and came across a passage about stealth maneuvers. In the book, it mentioned how the caster would draw a space, traditionally no more than a metre in both height and width, with their wand and focus on essentially turning any solid matter into a two way mirror.

Harrison had placed his hand directly on the wall in his dorm, only to accidentally both see and hear Lee Jordan being ridden by an enthusiastic and very well endowed Heidi. Every time she would lift off his lap, he would pull back, then they would slam together, issuing grunts and moans and profanities. He immediately removed his hand from the wall, cutting the spell off, and was suddenly thankful that the shapeless sweater vests and robes that left a lot to the imagination. He still couldn't look either of them in the eye.

As he finished up the essay that McGonagall assigned that morning, Harrison noticed that strange, if somewhat painful, feeling was back on his neck. He cracked his neck and groaned, knowing that he would finally be able to visit Gringotts soon. The first Hogsmeade trip was coming up, and he would get to talk to Thortac about what the hell was going on with him. It was strange, the pain was random as far as he could tell. It just cropped up out of nowhere, no reason why, then it was gone after a bit. It was more annoying than anything. The pain was not that bad, but there was just... some feeling he got with it. Almost like he was missing something. Something that he was supposed to know, or maybe do. It didn't make any sense, and that was what pissed him off about it. In those moments, it almost seemed like he wanted... what?

Groaning in frustration, he hurriedly put all of his things away and decided to track down one of his friends to vent to.

He smiled slightly when he smelled the familiar scent of potion fumes and what reminded him suspiciously of gunpowder. Upon rounding the corner, his mood dipped.

The twins were indeed there, but they weren't alone.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione were blocking the twins from climbing off the staircase, with their backs to him.

The twins saw him, but said nothing.

"You have been sneaking off with him since the start of term!" Hermione was saying, clearly annoyed. "How do you not know where he is?"

"Because we bloody well don't!" George said, rolling his eyes.

"In case you haven't noticed-" Fred added.

"-We don't have him tucked in our robes."

"It's probably where you want him, stuffed down your trousers." Ron sneered. Since when does Ron sneer? "Bloody fags."

Unsurprisingly, Hermione didn't reprimand his language this time. After all, there was no one around to tattle.

Ginny huffed and crossed her arms. "Why are you trying so hard to keep us apart?! We are his friends! Not you two!" The way she said that last part, Harrison could hear the revulsion in her voice.

The ache in Harrison's neck sharpened as he saw the flicker of hurt in Freddie's eyes.

These were not simple 'let's harass our siblings' attitudes. These were hate filled. What the fuck was going on? Harrison understood where the Trio of Trash stood in regards to him, but the twins? Ginny had always gotten along well with them, and Ron... well, the twins pranked him a lot, but almost always had a reason. Usually, it was because Ron did something stupid in the first place. But they'd always defended one another before. Harrison couldn't count how many times the twins had gone to his defense, even if the prat had been in the wrong, as he so often was. After they would diffuse the situation, they would always let him know that whatever it was he had done, was handled badly. After that, Ron would usually whine and complain, then sit and think, eventually realizing they were right.

"What the hell is wrong with you three?" Harrison demanded angrily, forgetting for a moment that they could not understand him.

The trio turned around at the hissing, and only hesitated a second, before turning on false smiles.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said cheerfully. "We were just looking for you."

Harrison stayed silent.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, also showing her teeth in a too-wide smile. "We thought you might want some help with the herbology essay. It's due tomorrow."

Remembering the language barrier, he brushed his hands together in a gesture that said 'all done'.

"You've finished?" She asked, astonished.

He nodded, unimpressed.

Shaking off the question, she continued. "That's good! We can get an early start on that long essay that Professor Snape set. He does want thirty-six inches, and while I wish he hadn't limited it to forty, I know that you won't leave it till last minute again, right? You too, Ronald."

"Yeah, yeah." Came the reply. "Wait, it's not even due 'til next Wednesday, 'Mione! That's ages off!"

Again, Harrison brushed his hands together. "Finished."

Ron shivered at the hiss, but hid it behind genuine shock. "How?! Why?! He only assigned it this morning!"

Harrison tapped his wrist, mouthing the word time. Harrison loved having free time as he pleased. Being able to pay attention to his work and classes, plus his newly improved memory, was great.

"You two ready to go?"

"O'course," the twins chorused with light smiles. "Lead the way, Harrikins."

Harrison noticed that the twins had been doing that a lot lately, calling him Harrikins. He wondered if they were covering slip ups, accidentally almost calling him by his real name. Before, they only called him that when they wanted to involve him in something devious, or when they were mocking random people. It was never anything nasty though. Oh well, it never bothered him. He liked having a nickname, even if it was a little bit dorky. At least it was better than Diddy Diddy Dinkums.

Mentally shaking himself, he pointed down the stairs.

"Wait," Ginny said, firmly grabbing his upper arm. "Since you have some free time, I thought you and I could go down to the pitch. Maybe fly around a bit?"

Hoping his apologetic look was convincing, he shook his head.

"Why do you keep walking away from us?" Ginny stomped her foot.

Without looking back, Harrison rolled his eyes and went to follow the twins, who were waiting on the lower landing. He and the twins were going to hang out, maybe iron out some tweaks on their latest creation, then he'd have his brewing session with his f- with professor Snape. The packet of information on the changes made were meticulously well recorded, and they were going to finalize everything over the next couple of days. He had been thrilled beyond words when the professor said he wanted Harrison to submit his 'findings' to a publication.

For the second time in his student career, the staircase started to move. He grabbed the railing, narrowly avoiding a too-fast decent, but steadied himself immediately.

The staircases were spelled not to move while someone was actually on them. This makes twice now. He shook his head.

That was around the time he felt the spell hit his back.

Jerking backwards, Harrison felt his heart in his throat as the twins cried out in shock. Desperately scrambling to grab onto something when falling wasn't the easiest thing, but his left hand caught stone and he held on for all he was worth, twisting violently in the opposite direction. At the abrupt change in motion, he could literally feel the muscles in his shoulder tearing, making it that much harder to swing his other arm up. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!

'Just reach up and grab onto something before your fucking arm finally gives out!' His mind screamed.

The stone gate that bled seamlessly into the banister was starting to shift. Shit! The staircase was about to reconnect to the other side.

Every fiber of his being was crying out in fear, pain and protest of his movements, no matter how necessary. Mustering up as much strength as possible, Harrison swung his legs, forcing his momentum to allow him to reach something, anything. As he was facing the fast approaching banister, he missed his desperate grab for the ledge.

Before he could try again, the stairs stopped, his body dangling freely.

He heard a loud crack and blacked out.

The first thing Harrison noticed, before opening his eyes, was that he was comfortable. He didn't understand why, as he couldn't remember anything after going to meet up with the twins. Wait, was there some kind of explosion? Was that why he could hear the echo of a loud crack before everything faded? What had been broken this time, maybe a wall?

Deciding that he wasn't going to get any answers by thinking about it, he finally opened his eyes.

Oh, hell. He was back in the infirmary. That made it the second time this term, and it was only October. He groaned.

"Awake, are you, Mr. Potter?" Came the unmistakable voice of Madam Pomfrey.

He nodded, hiding his distaste for waking up there. He really did like the woman, but there was nothing cheerful about being in the infirmary.

"Excellent," she said with a smile. "Now, how are you feeling?"

As usual, he went from the toes up, shifting a bit to see if he felt any pain. Years of the Dursley's left him with a routine when it came to injuries, and he knew to move carefully. There was a bit of tenderness in his ribs on the left, but that was no big deal. It was upon reaching his arms that he gasped. He couldn't move his arms. Trying to move it at all sent fire throughout his entire arm, mostly around his shoulder and through his back. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the fire to die out.

"Is it time for a pain potion?" She asked while nodding in understanding. "I thought as much. The breaks were simple enough to work out, but that amount of torn muscle..." her voice faded out as she shook her head. "It'll take a while to heal, then it'll still be sore and stiff for another week or so on top of it."

He wanted to mime for something to write with, but couldn't. Opening his mouth to speak, he was hoping beyond hope that she would send for someone who could translate.

"Oh!" Her eyes widened for a second. "Not to worry, dear! One of your Weasley twins let me borrow their cuff." She shifted her graying curls aside so he could clearly see the goblin steel adorning her cartilage. "Though, I can't be sure which one it was. Oh well, you rarely see one without the other, so returning it will be simple enough."

He felt a pleasant rush of warmth in his chest at her words. "Oh, good."

She patted his hand.

"So, what happened?"

"That's what I would like to know!" She replied exasperatedly. "You've got yourself in quite a bind, Mr. Potter. I had to completely remove the bones in your upper arm, regrow them with skelegrow, which fixed several breaks in your bicep, as well as the dislocated shoulder. Beyond that, you'll have a lot of nasty scarring, which is the least of your issues, young man. With the amount of nerve damage, you'll not have full use of your arm for quite some time. I've managed to fix some of it, but not nearly enough for my liking. Your veins and arteries were a tricky fix, but I was able to avoid amputation. It was a very near miss! One of the more noticeable issues you'll have is from a tear in the trapezius muscle. That's what connects your shoulder blades. It should only take a week or so to heal up, but if you were in the muggle world, something like two months to heal! If I had luck like yours, I would become a compulsive gambler!"

It all came back to him. "I can honestly say, Poppy, I had nothing to do with what happened. Did anyone speak with you?"

"Your twins, along with the younger Weasley's and Miss Granger are sorting out the details with the Headmaster. All I know is that you were somehow involved with the moving stairs. Though, I have no idea how, since they can't move when someone is on them."

"It wouldn't be the first time, Poppy. In fact, during my first year, Hermione, Ron and I were halfway up, on our way up the third floor set, and it moved then."

She gasped.

"So, has she been suspended then?" He asked her, wishing he could re-situate himself.

"Has who been suspended, dear?"

He wanted to call the girl a lot of bad names, but refrained. Barely. "Ginny. She's the one that pulled me off the stairs in the first place. I was fine. I was standing still, waiting for them to stop, so I could keep going, but she tried to use a summoning charm on me. It obviously didn't work, and I went flying. That's why I got trapped the way I did."

"Isn't she a fourth year?"

Not quite understanding why she wanted to know, he nodded.

"Summoning charms aren't taught until fifth year! She could have killed you!"

He sighed, but nodded again. "She very nearly succeeded."

The large double doors swung open, admitting the five witnesses, the Headmaster, and most surprisingly, Professor Snape.

What on Earth was he doing here? If it had been Professor McGonagall, it would have made more sense, seeing as everyone involved were all Gryffindors. What could have compelled the Slytherin head to be here? Oh, maybe he was dropping off some potions for the infirmary.

They had discussed the fact that it was part of his duties as Potions Master to supply the infirmary with any and all potions that might be needed. It was why his pay was five percent higher than the other professors who only had to teach. In Harrison's mind, it should have been more than five percent, if for no other reason than the fact that it took up nearly all of his spare time. The man was not being fairly compensated for all of the additional hours of work.

"You missed our appointment, Mr. Potter." Was all he said, ignoring the twins rushing to Harrison's side.

He smirked lightly. "Sorry, sir. Got caught up in something."

The professor scoffed, and turned to the mediwitch. "When will the boy be released? He has a deadline to meet."

Deadline? What deadline?

"Come now, Severus. Surely you can forgive a day or two without Mr. Potter's assignments."

"No." Was his only response.

Just because he wasn't sure what the man was talking about, he was more inclined to go along with it than agree with anything the HeadBastard- er, the Headmaster, said. "It's an extra credit project. I'm prepared."

Dumbles and the Trio of Trash were the only ones who didn't understand him.

"Good." Professor Snape gave a curt nod. "I will see you no later than six o'clock on Saturday. If you cannot meet the deadline, don't bother showing up."

"Yes, sir." Harrison agreed. "I'll bring you my notes as soon as I'm released. I've also got another project in mind, that I'd like your input on."

"Fine. By six."

"He will not be able to leave to give you his homework!" Madam Pomfrey said sternly, wagging her finger at Professor Snape. "If you want it so badly, you will have to fetch it yourself!"

He did not look pleased. "I will be here at five-thirty, Saturday if you have not been released."

Being book ended by the twins, he smiled. "Hey, guys. Can someone help me sit up a bit?"

George snagged a pillow off the neighboring bed to help prop him upright.

Quick as a flash, Poppy pulled out her wand and used a levitating charm, and moved him very very slowly.

Harrison ground his teeth, then let out a slow breath as he sank into the pillows.

"Better?" Georgie asked with concern, rubbing the back of his neck briefly.

Needing a second to reply verbally, he just gave a small smile.

"Good, good." Dumbles said dismissively, then looked at the twins. "Now that that's sorted, I will ask you two to return to your dorms. Your help was much appreciated. Perhaps I can have the elves send up a tray to your rooms, as you've all missed supper."

"No, thank you, sir." They said together.

"We'd like to stay-" George began.

"Since curfew is still a good ways off." Fred finished.

"Now, my boys, I really must insist." The Headmaster said kindly. "There is nothing to be done tonight, as Mr. Potter will likely see you in the morning."

"Sir, I would really prefer if they stay." Harrison said quickly. "If I'm to meet Professor Snape's deadline, I'll need their help with some of my notes."

The twins stayed silent, but Madam Pomfrey translated for him.

"I'm quite sure that Miss Granger would be more than adequate to assist you." Dumbles protested gently.

Harrison shook his head. "She knows nothing about my research." He made sure to appear apologetic. "This is extra credit, not regular homework. It hasn't been covered in class."

After another translation, the man sighed. "As you have until Saturday evening, I'm sure that she can brush up on your notes and assist you quite easily. Miss Granger has received top marks in potions, after all."

Merlin, why won't he let this go already?! Harrison seethed. Biting back an angry retort, he told the twins to go ahead. "He's not going to give this up." He dropped his voice so the mediwitch didn't overhear. "Grab my cloak and map. Wait until he leaves, then you can come back, okay?"

"Sure, Harry." George replied. "We'll see you later."

So, it was Fred that loaned Madam Pomfrey his cuff. For some reason, that made him happy.

As the twins left, talking quietly to each other, Harrison turned his attention back to the Headmaster and the Trio. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to go well.

--

"Now, Mr. Potter-Harry," Dumbledore sat at the foot of his bed.

Harrison gasped in pain at the sudden movement.

"As I understand it, there was a mishap with the stairs?"

Nod.

"And in Miss Weasley's need to assist, you were injured?"

Head-shake. She wasn't trying to help him! He was fine before she pulled her wand!

"Naturally," Dumbletwat continued. "She has been awarded points for the attempted rescue. I'm sure you would like-"

At that, Harrison shook his head vehemently. "Poppy!" That could not happen. He needed to be able to say his piece!

"What is it, dear?" She asked kindly as she made her way over.

"I was merely telling Mr. Potter about the points awarded Miss Weasley for her valiant effort to save him." Dumbledore explained.

Her jaw dropped for a split second. "How dare you?! He hadn't needed her so-called assistance in the first place!"

"Thank you!" He said sincerely. "She needs to be suspended at the very least for endangering another student, if not expelled for attempted murder!"

When she said as much, Ginny gasped, but Dumbletwat merely chuckled. "Nonsense, my dear boy. Miss Weasley was trying to help you. I'm sure that there was no harm intended."

"Of course not!" Ginny said, sounding hurt. "I would never try to put your life in danger!"

Harrison rolled his eyes at her stupidity.

"There you have it," the HeadBastard clapped his hands together once, as if that statement absolved her. "There has been no real harm d-"

"No real harm?!" Poppy said, astounded. "She almost killed the poor boy! Her intervention was not needed, nor was it wanted! I have already heard what happened! Miss Weasley doesn't need points, she needs to be suspended! Mr. Potter is well within his rights to call the Aurors!"

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Poppy."

Could he have possibly made that sentence sound any more condescending? Harrison fought the urge to hex the man. "As soon as I'm able to use my arms again, I'm taking the memory out. Don't worry, Poppy, she's not getting away with this. I can't explain at the moment, but could you just play along?"

She harrumphed, but relented, all the while mumbling about no one ever listening to her.

"Excellent," Dumbles said cheerfully. "Now, we can see about finding one of your marvelous translators for Miss Granger to borrow so that she can assist you with your assignment. Professor Snape was quite adamant about your time limit."

"Poppy, can you tell him that the cuffs have to be keyed to the user? That they can't just be borrowed? I promise you that I will explain everything, but not until well after curfew, when there's less chance of being spied on. Please? It's important that none of them get their hands on one of the cuffs."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, I had nearly forgotten that." She nodded once before turning her attention to her boss. "Headmaster, the translator cuffs have to be keyed into a person's magical signature. They can't be shared."

"Then why do you have one?" Ron asked, apparently bored. "Yeah, Harry's in here a lot, but you don't see him that often."

It only took her a second to think something up. "It would have been much too difficult to find someone with a cuff in the event of an emergency. Mr. Potter needs to be able to tell me what is wrong at any time. I'm sure you've all noticed that he does not come here unless there has been an emergency. Today alone should be evidence enough!"

"Quite," Dumbles mused, stroking his long beard. "Do forgive an old man's forgetfulness, Harry, but when did you say that more would be available for purchase? Myself and your friends would be delighted to be able to speak with you properly, once more."

"I was only told that there might be more after Yule sometime." Harrison lied easily. "I wasn't given an actual date. It might be on New Years, it might not be until Easter."

While the news was not what Dumbles had wanted to hear, he simply smiled and excused himself. Luckily, the Trio had decided to follow shortly after, as Poppy had walked away and she was not there to keep their conversations.

Chapter End Notes

I know I didn't address everything yet, butI hope I answered your concerns Darklightningstorm! Let me know if there's anything else.
Thanks also to Tamarah Smith for letting me use 'Dumbletwat'. Love it!

Chapter 13

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"So," George smirked a few hours later, shrugging off Harrison's invisibility cloak, revealing himself and his twin. "The tradition continues, then?"

Harrison's brow knit. "What are you talking about?" Merlin, he was tired, but it wouldn't stop him from seeing the twins. He wanted to make sure that they were all right after the things that their siblings said. He may not have ever had family, but the Weasley's had always been close. It couldn't be an easy thing to deal with.

"The fact that you can't seem to have a single uneventful Halloween." Fred sighed, taking a seat on a neighboring bed.

"Oh..." Harrison was surprised by that. "I guess not. Honestly, I didn't even realize what today was."

The twins shared an amused, yet satisfied look. "Then, it appears that our devious plan worked, brother mine." Fred joked.

"To keep our little Harrikins distracted and happy was the goal." George supplied a sad smile. "But it looks like we forgot to add 'safe' to that plan."

"It's not like you had anything to do with it, so don't pout." It's like looking at a hurt crup puppy. For the first time in years, he genuinely wanted to hug someone. "I'll be fine. But can one of you collect any assignments I'm going to miss? I hate being behind."

"How horrible is it that we can't even write mum and dad about this?" Fred asked sadly.

"Yeah," George nodded in understanding. "It really is." He hated that he couldn't trust his parents to do the right thing, especially after the things that they had done to their little Harrikins.

"Listen, you two. I know what you're thinking, and you should know that I don't believe your dad had anything to do with the things your mum did." It was true. The goblins had looked into all of the information they had on anyone that was benefiting from the theft on his accounts. The money that Molly, Ginny and Ron were getting was in vaults that had been under the name of Molly Prewett, her maiden name. Apparently, that kept Mr. Weasley from knowing about them at all, as he only dealt with the one Weasley vault. She had it blood protected, and since she and Arthur obviously didn't share blood, he couldn't touch it even if he did know. "Besides, he was one of the few people that ever treated me like one of his own. She just fussed after me like I was a toddler made of glass, but Mr. Weasley just treated me the same way he treated you. That meant more than you'll ever know."

Together, they smiled feebly. How was this a normal conversation? They were literally discussing the involvement of one parent in highly illegal activities, as well as the blatant obliviousness of another.

"Well, gents," George proclaimed, slapping his hands down on his thighs. "As delightful as this conversation is, I'm off to the loo."

Fred waited until George was out of earshot before he spoke. "Harrison?"

Harrison hmm'd in reply.

For a moment, the redhead looked tentative. "I wanted to talk to you... privately."

Brow knit, he looked at his closest friend. "About what?"

"That day... after the first quidditch practice. The locker room."

Shaking his head, Harrison wanted to steer the conversation in another direction. "Honestly, Freddie, it wasn't that big of deal. I was just startled, is all. It's a bit silly, really, getting scared like that, especially after all the times I've had to deal with Moldy Voldy. But, on the upside, I've not had another panic attack since then. So, you see, it's really not a big deal."

"Harrison, I'm not even talking about your panic attack!" He insisted as his mood dropped even lower.

He knew that the twins could be serious, just that they didn't always feel the need to do so. Seeing how tense Fred was, well, it was jarring.

"It's about why you had the attack." He sighed wearily. "Harrison, what happened to your back?"

"What difference does it make?" Harrison whispered, ashamed. "It will never happen again. I've made sure that I'll never be in that situation again."

"How?"

"Freddie, you know I've been emancipated. I told you that already."

At that, he deflated. "So, it was your relatives. The muggles."

"What muggles?" George asked, just having left the rest room.

Harrison shook his head minutely, perfectly aware that Fred could see him do it.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at his twin. "Harrison's muggle relatives beat him."

His heart dropped. "Get out." He whispered, dropping his gaze to the light blanket covering his legs. Why did it always seem so easy for people to betray his trust? Why was it always him? Why wasn't there one person he could count on to keep his secrets?

"You-"

"Out. Now."

This time it was George that tried to speak. "What's-"

"I said 'GET OUT'." Harrison hissed forcefully. It broke his heart knowing that he had never once spoken to them with such acidity, but the reason behind it hurt much worse. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised him. They all did it in the end. At least some people were honest in their hatred from the start. The Dursley's made that clear enough, the Malfoy's, Snape, anyone 'dark'. It was all the same. They all had their reasons, however right or wrong.

Everyone on the 'light side' that betrayed him... that was confusing. He was supposed to be some kind of Savior or whatever, so why would they do this? Sure, to a point, he could almost understand the reasons for the Trio of Trash. Ron and Ginny were raised to be spiteful and greedy by Molly, so the enticement of fame and money were just too much to ignore. Hermione wanted everyone to admire her for being better then them. She wanted to be in charge, make laws according to what she thought was right. The opinions of others didn't matter to her. Being offered the chance to prove herself better than everyone would be pretty much impossible for her to decline.

Even Dumbledore did it all for power as far as he could tell.

But the twins? They had never been greedy, or dishonest. Of course, they had their pranks, but they were spread out evenly, be it friend or foe. In truth, Harrison didn't think the twins had any enemies. Hell, even the Slytherins had reluctant respect for their ingenuity and entrepreneurial nature. Like their younger siblings, they obviously grew up with very little, but unlike them, the twins decided to take what they loved and make a respectable living out of it.

So, why would Fred take away what little trust he had?

Needless to say, Harrison didn't sleep that night.

Madam Pomfrey, it seemed, wasn't bothered by his silence. She knew that he hated being in the infirmary, so it wasn't really too much out of character. What stopped her in her tracks, as she brought out a tray with his breakfast and potions, was the look on his face. The poor boy looked completely defeated. There was clear evidence that he hadn't slept.

"Harry, dear?" She asked with concern, setting the tray on his bedside table. Her nose wrinkled at a familiar scent. "Good heavens, Harry. Why didn't you call for me?"

"I tried." He replied dully. "Can't shout, only hiss." It didn't really matter. People that were immobile often wet themselves through no fault of their own. This was no different. He'd be fine eventually.

"Of course!" She said immediately, feeling foolish. "Harry, I apologize. Let's get you cleaned up, then get some food into you. You're much too thin."

It was the same thing she said every time he'd been here since he was eleven. Nothing was ever done about it. Nothing was ever questioned. It never changed.

He stayed silent as she cleaned him up and put him back into bed.

Later that day, George came back, this time with an armload of books and an apologetic look on his face.

Harrison noticed, with no small amount of surprise, that the sun had gone down and the torches had been lit around the infirmary. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to know what happened with you and Freddie yesterday." George said calmly, sitting on a neighboring bed. "I know a little bit, but what brought it on?"

He shook his head tiredly.

"And," George held up the books. "Lots of homework, and you missed a test and you've already got three assignments due today, but they said that one of us can take them if they're done already."

"You know they are. This is the first year that I've not been behind for one reason or another." Harrison rolled his eyes. He wasn't upset at George, as Fred was the one to spout off his secrets. That wasn't George's fault.

"True," he nods. "You study more than all of the Ravenclaws in your year combined."

"You might as well get it out. I can practically feel you trying to figure out how to ask me something." Harrison said flatly.

"Why did Freddie say that last night?" George said, opting for the direct approach.

It was all he could do not to scoff. "Because of that day I had a panic attack. He saw some scars, figured it out."

"I can accept that. What I can't understand is, why you didn't tell someone before now."

"Who said I didn't?" He demanded acidly, then sighed. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

They both let the subject drop, turning their attention to Harrison's homework, which George had to write, but in Harrison's exact words. During which the redhead stopped his friend several times to ask if the information was correct, as there was much of it that he had never heard of. He was astounded to find that Harrison could cite the books as well as the pages that the information was from.

The next day, Hermione stopped in, endeavoring to assist him with his potions 'extra credit' assignment. He was in pain, irritated to hell and back with her futile attempts at conversation. Thankfully, through no action of his own, Madam Pomfrey was nowhere nearby to act as a translator.

The bushy haired witch promptly walked into the hospital wing and flopped her happy arse right down on the foot of his bed, just like Dumbledore had done. He was unable to stop the pained noise that escaped from his lips. Naturally, she didn't seem to realize that she'd hurt him. Shocker.

From there, she proceeded to talk at him. "If you're to meet your deadline, I will have to see all of your notes. I'm not sure I understand why you have a weekend deadline on an extra credit assignment. I'm sure that Professor Snape has his reasons. Your latest visit here certainly couldn't have come at a worse time, but then again, does any injury ever really have good timing? Sorry, I'm getting off track. Now, does this assignment have anything to do with that question you asked him at the beginning of term? I'm only asking because ever since then, you've been going off to the dungeons so often that we never get to talk anymore. Well, that and you being cursed. Oh, it's just so awful! I wish I knew what spell was used so that we could find a way to remove it. Even though we can't get our translators until after the holidays, that just gives me a chance to get enough money together to be able to afford one. It's no trouble though, as my aunts and uncles are well off and without children, they do tend to send me and my cousin cheques every Christmas. They're likely making up for not getting to know us well enough to actually buys gifts. I don't mind that this year, because now I have something else worth getting. It will be so good to talk to you again! Maybe it will help when I need to ignore Ron. I never realized how much you acted as a buffer between us. Now that..."

Harrison was astonished. Had she always rambled like that? Merlin, she was still talking. How the hell does she get anything done? He wondered why she was randomly babbling the way she was. She didn't usually jump around topics like that, did she?

It took another ten minutes before she finally talked herself down, during which time, he silently cursed Ginny again for making him physically unable to escape the incessant chatter.

Since he had no way to interject, she apparently remembered why she was there and asked for his notes so she could help him with his project. It was another half an hour still, before she finally realized there was nothing she could do with him being 'mute', but she would try to come back when she could get someone to come along that had a cuff.

He was ready to smash his head off the wall.

After three days of complete immobility, Madam Pomfrey finally let him start using the facilities by himself, though she did linger by the door still.

Harrison was relieved to be allowed even that small freedom, despite the fact that he was downplaying how much it physically hurt him to do simple things, like scratching his nose. Strangely enough, most of the pain was in his back, despite the fact that it was his arm that had been nearly torn off.

George came back every chance that he got. They talked a lot, but not about anything serious, and certainly not about what had happened with his twin. Still, it was nice to just hang out. They learned some new things about each other, like how both of their favorite colors were green, but George preferred emerald, while Harrison liked mint green best.

Throughout his stay in the hospital wing, the pains in Harrison's neck were becoming gradually more frequent and longer lasting.

It was another two days before Madam Pomfrey considered letting him out at all. She made him wear a sling with a charm that kept it from moving too much. He didn't give a damn. As relieved as he was to be allowed to leave, he wasn't happy. He hadn't spoken to Fred in close to a week and it was starting to get to him.

At lunchtime, George walked in to escort Harrison down to the Great Hall. The look in his eye made Harrison slightly worried.

"What's going on?" Harrison asked suspiciously.

George smirked, but only shrugged.

"You're plotting something." That wasn't a question.

"Oh, not I, dear Harrikins." He said, faking offense at the thought.

Suddenly, the infirmary wasn't looking too bad. "Fine, what's going to happen? Is it something in class, or the dorms. Whatever it is, did you involve Peeves?"

"I told you, I haven't done anything."

He was sure he could have gotten information out of the redhead, but chose to remain ignorant. It was supposed to be bliss anyway, right?

The rest of their journey was silent, until they took their seats, where the entire quidditch team began bombarding Harrison with questions. Why was he out so long? Did he really get his entire torso crushed in the staircase? Why did Ginny try to throw him over the banister? Why wasn't Ginny arrested? Why did Snape visit him in the infirmary? Was Snape using him as a voluntary blood donor?

That of course led to a hilarious conversation about how their resident Potions Master must be using the younger students to feed his vampiric hunger because virgin blood tasted better. A bunch of people joked that was why he got a job working around young children.

Harrison had tears running down his face as he wheeze-laughed himself senseless. As the theories got stranger and more outrageous, he developed a stitch in his side that he swore would never go away.

Until Fred walked in.

He stood at the open double doors and called for everyone's attention.

That wasn't what was shutting people up, though. Fred didn't look like Fred right then. He now sported a pair of small fuzzy ears, an equally fuzzy muzzle, and to the amusement of the entire Hall, he also had a red slightly bushy tail. When he held his hands up for silence, everyone got a look at another change. In place of his lightly tanned hands, were a pair of strange paws.

"Most of you know me. My name is Fred Weasley. As my appearance would suggest, I have behaved like a weasel. As it was Harrison that I slighted, I want to apologize to you. I have been informed that the jinx on my person will only go away when I have been fully forgiven. I don't want that to sway your decision, though. Forgive me or not, the choice is yours." With that, he turned around and left, flicking his tail on the way out.

--

"They'll need time to test your notes, Potter." Snape fought a groan. They had done their own tests, and all of them, aside from the first group of four, the week prior. None of them had been satisfactory, therefore, both agreed to testing in the evenings on Tuesday and Thursday, and dedicated the majority of Sunday to their work.

"I understand that, sir. I do. What I can't seem to grasp is why you won't put your name on it! I don't need yet another reason for people to gawk at me. You've already made a name in potions, so no one would be surprised that you did something like this. Besides, you did most of the work."

Why in Merlin's name was the Potter brat being so difficult? Didn't he want the added attention? Salazar knows that an academic achievement would be a nice change from the rest of his press coverage. "Do not assume me magnanimous. I did not do most of the work. This was not my discovery. What I did was assist. If I am to be listed, that is exactly what it will state. No more, no less."

Harrison huffed, wishing he could shout in frustration. "I don't want the bloody attention! I've been drowning in it for the last five years! Just sign the damn paper!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for your profanity."

Rolling his eyes, he snatched up the parchment and scribbled his initials illegibly. Not HJP, but HPS. Not that anyone would be able to tell the difference. He shook his head and pushed it back toward his father. "Done, okay? Can I go now?"

He mimicked his puzzling student, but with his full name rather than illegible initials. "You may go."

Quick as a flash, Harrison left. He had to go find Ginny and apologize for ignoring her for so long. What had he been thinking? She was always so sweet to him, and he just blew her off. The guilt had been eating at him since this morning, and he had to make things right.

Maybe a gift would help smooth things over? Or would that be too much? A simple apology or a gift? Or both? One of the twins would know. They were, after all, her brothers. Even if one of them was still part weasel.

Luckily, since he'd been spending so much time with them, he knew their schedules, even for the weekends, and quickly found them in Salazar's lab. He tapped out their rhythmic password on the door and waited for one of them to unlock/unward the door. Sure, he could have done it himself, but he let them keep their illusion of privacy and discretion. It was warded for sounds and scents to be contained inside.

"If it isn't our favorite business partner!" George called out happily, ushering him inside. "Come in, come in! We've got a few new things to show you, and get your opinions on. Freddie! Harrison's here!"

Fred emerged from the storage room behind a wall of boxes, toting a handful of phials containing a bright purple liquid that was shimmering in the light. He smiled weakly at Harrison. "Hey, what's up?"

Harrison ignored the ache in the back of his neck, and flopped onto one of the tabletops. "I need both of you guys' advice."

"Sure," they said in unison.

"What's the subject?" George asked.

"Your sister," he said with a miserable sigh. "I've been completely ignoring her, and I feel bad. So, I was wondering how to make it up to her. It was only logical that one of you, as her brothers, would know the best way to go about that."

George was rolling his shoulders and trying to crack his neck.

They looked at each other worriedly.

"Um," Fred cleared his throat awkwardly. "What brought this on?"

Harrison shrugged. "With everything going on, I haven't had any time to think properly, and it took until this morning for me to realize it. Do you think she's upset with me?"

There was a long pause.

"I know just the thing for it," George finally said. "Since you've been emancipated, you can Apparate, yeah?"

He nodded. "Course I can. You know that." That was something he had figured out two days after he'd been cleared by Thortac, by means of Apparating from his room at the Leaky Cauldron to a thick of trees near the zoo he'd gone to with the Dursley's. There were no notices of expulsion waiting for him, so he figured they were right.

"Well, since she's got her eye on the open chaser spot for next year, and is bound to get it, that means mum and dad will be buying her a new broom. What if you got her a set of proper gear to go with it? You know, padding and the like."

"Yeah," Fred said easily, his whiskered nose twitching. "You wouldn't want her to get hurt during a game because she has old gear, would you?"

Harrison gasped. "Of course not! But that's a great idea! If she got hurt, she'd never forgive me!"

"Right," they said together.

"Plus, since you're a natural on a broom, maybe you could offer to help her train up a bit." George supplied. "Since you can Apparate, we'll go down to Hogsmeade and pop over to Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley and pick some up, but Forge and I have to make a stop at Gringotts first. Will that be alright?"

He nodded, wishing they could skip the bank, but he knew that they had to arrange their vault and who was he to get in the way of legitimate business aspirations? Oh, maybe he could ask Thortac what the hell was wrong with his neck...

What was he thinking? Who cared about that when he had more important things to tend? It was usually just flashes or a dull ache here and there. Quidditch injuries were more serious than that.

Before they knew it, they were being ushered into Griphook's office. "Young Lord, Messrs Weasley. How may I help you today?"

Harrison paced around the office, wishing they could hurry up. "Not me. I don't think I actually need to be here. Fred, George, you guys don't need me for anything, do you? If not, I can go get my shopping done."

Griphook raised his eyebrow.

"He needs another cleanse, Master Griphook." George whispered while Fred hung back with Harrison to keep him from paying attention. "Love potions."

With a nod, Griphook got Harrison's attention. "Little Lord, if I may?"

"Whatever it is, can it be handled later? I have things to do."

Oh. Harrison was one of the very very few humans that had ever been polite, but now he was snapping like the rest. "I understand perfectly," Griphook said to Harrison, while glancing at the twins. "I was about to send you a letter regarding one of your blocks. It is quite time sensitive, and must be removed immediately. If the Messrs Weasley wouldn't mind, that is."

"Are you sure?" Harrison asked doubtfully. "I really am busy. I don't have time today. There are things that-"

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, this cannot wait." Griphook grabbed (kind of gently) Harrison's arm and led him to a familiar office.

"Nice to see you and all, but can we get a move on?" Harrison huffed at the mated goblins.

Thortac's eyes widened and Griphook spoke in rapid gobbledygook.

Ten minutes later, Harrison groaned as the tightness in his chest dissipated. He gasped. "Merlin, I was an arse. I apologize, Thortac, to your mate as well." He noted that Griphook was nowhere around. "Do you think I upset him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Will you ever not be strange? Answer to both of those... no. It takes much more than a slightly grumpy human to upset a goblin."

"I know," he agreed, letting his shoulders slump a bit. "Still, that felt so... wrong."

"Humans," she scoffed.

"You know something, Thortac?" Harrison mused. "I'm beginning to see why goblins dislike humans. They kind of suck."

Chapter End Notes

Something feels off about this one. If anyone can figure out why this chapter is off, please leave a respectful comment so I can make any necessary adjustments. This one really fought with me.

Chapter 14

Chapter Notes

Okay, okay. I think I figured out better why these last couple of chapters weren't going my way. If I'm right, you'll see a major change starting in chapter 15. I know this is only 14, so I apologize lol. I had from 15-20 or so finished, but some of the past few chapters (this one included) were to connect the parts of the story that I have worked out. My story 'flow' should (fingers crossed) be back on track soon. I have to stop trying to force these things together, but oh well. And on to the chapter...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Thankfully, November passed without too much conflict... meaning that Harrison had to be snuck out of the castle twice more to see Thortac (Merlin, he loved those secret passages), because of the stupid potions winding up in his meals. None of them could figure out how the first batch showed up. It was their suspicion that Ginny must have bribed a house elf. It was the only logical explanation. He also continued to work on potions with his fath- with Snape. Since they had completed the application and extensive paperwork that went along with it, he had already started another project. That was information that he didn't want to get out. If his research got out before it was completed, it could easily kill someone. Unlike what he and Snape had been working on, this was not an adjustment to a two hundred plus year old potion. This was entirely new.

As strange as it seemed, Harrison had taken some of his notes to a goblin that Griphook recommended. They were practically salivating at the opportunity to earn a minuscule commission off of the potion. That was Harrison's suggestion. If the potion worked out as planned, they would split a one galleon commission per five sold. It didn't sound like much, but as there were 493,856 known werewolves in the world, not to mention the ones that managed to slip under the radar, they would stand to make a hefty sum.

The initial visit to the goblins was amusing to say the least.

-Flashback-

Harrison strolled into the bank casually. He was excited that he was able to go see his small friends without having to go straight back to their damn infirmary.

It was his cheerful attitude that made the teller, Redfang, worry that he was back for another potion cleanse. It was somewhat out of character, but maybe that was because he was only used to seeing the little lord upset for one reason or another. They all knew that he was a made-goblin, but not the reason behind it. Who were they to question their King? After all, there was no other way to become a made-goblin.

"Hey, Redfang." Harrison greeted him with a smile. Over the last few visits, Harrison was able to get a couple of his goblin friends to interact with him informally. Naturally, when the situation demanded, he was formal. This unscheduled meeting was technically supposed to be one of those formal situations, but he was too excited, and he knew they wouldn't take offense.

"Young Lord," Redfang replied cordially. "How may Gringotts assist you, today?"

"Is Griphook in?" Came the eager reply. "If not, maybe you can point me in the right direction."

"What is it that you need assistance with?" Redfang asked politely, shocking the hell out of the customers waiting in line behind the young Lord. It always amused the goblins that they were thought of as so terrifying (which they absolutely were) that humans were afraid when they saw a goblin being kind, and/or willingly helpful.

"I need to talk to someone about the legalities around creating an immeasurably profitable potion. For a small fee, of course." Harrison was about to start bouncing up and down in his excitement.

"Naturally," he replied, noting the unusual antsiness of the made goblin. Hmm, he wondered if he should call on His Majesty's sister to decide whether or not another cleanse would be necessary. "Griphook will be available shortly. Perhaps a visit to Thortac in the meantime?"

Harrison snorted, figuring something like that was coming. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Redfang. I'm not in love with anyone this time." Though he did feel a bit of guilt at those words for some reason.

Letting out a startled laugh, Redfang quickly came to his senses and scowled. Switching to Parseltongue, knowing only the little Lord would understand, he spoke. "You are going to ruin the reputation of my people, Harrison."

With an eye roll, the young Lord excused himself to wait for Griphook. "Toodles!" He hiss-laughed.

"Next!" Redfang growled menacingly.

An hour later, Griphook and Harrison were wrapping things up.

"You are going to change the world, Mr. Snape."

"That's the idea," Harrison said, smirking. "And if you, and whoever assists, happens to make a bit of money while I do so, what's the harm?"

"Indeed," Griphook mused, astonished at the young man before him. Brilliance, ambition and a charitable nature? He had never seen someone so willing to accept 'creatures' as equals.

"All right," Harrison said as he stood. "I should have it completed by Yule for the last purge. Hopefully, my intended test subject won't be too changed to agree."

Before he left, Harrison showed Griphook how to give a fist bump, which amused both parties to no end.

-End Flashback-

Two weeks after the Reactionem Incremento potion information was submitted, he was summoned to the dungeons by a lower year Slytherin.

Harrison knocked on the Potion Masters' door.

"In." Came the short reply from inside.

Startled, he walked in, wondering what he had done to earn the man's ire. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Professor Snape looked up and subtly sighed. "Yes, Mr. Potter, I did." He said, this time with much less venom. "I wonder, have you ever used a quill before?"

Wait, what? "Sir?"

"Well, Mr. Potter, your illegible scrawl has officially made a public debut, and unfortunately for you, no one will have any idea."

"Sir, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sit," the man ordered, pulling a magazine out of his desk drawer. "Turn to page seventy-seven."

'Potion Making Quarterly'. Original name, that. Harrison avoided scoffing, but did as told.

The article on page seventy-six happened to span to page eighty-two. It was a complete work up on his project, as well as snippets from his notes, as well as the completely revised recipe. It was all there. It really was published. "Wow. I didn't think something so small would actually be printed."

"Before you get too excited, look at the second line."

Confused, Harrison checked. 'A revolutionary discovery by an unknown potioneer, one HPS, assisted by well known Potions Master Severus T Snape.' "Oh," he said, not realizing that someone would be able to figure out what initials he'd put.

"Quite." Snape said dryly. "So, you see that your abysmal handwriting has caused yet another-"

"Sir, it's fine." Harrison interjected, relieved to have a ready-made explanation for the 'wrong' initials on the page. "I told you that I didn't need accolades for this. All it is, all it will ever be, is a simple time saver. I'm not concerned with it."

"Tell me, Mr. Potter," the professor said, sounding irritated. "Are you so used to having negativity attached to your unfortunate name, that when you do something worth mentioning, you sabotage your chance at positive recognition?"

"I never wanted any recognition, sir," Harrison replied. "Positive or otherwise. I simply don't care. You know, the only people in this castle that seem to have any sense in this matter are your snakes. They see me for what I am."

That certainly got his attention. "And, what, pray tell is that?"

"Nothing special." He shrugged. "It's not like I did anything heroic as an infant. My not dying was, in my opinion, just a cock up. Merlin, if everyone became an overnight sensation for simply failing to die, nearly everyone in the world would be famous. I haven't done anything to warrant such infamy. Besides, no one saw what happened that night, and I was definitely too young to remember. For all I know, he missed his shot and when it rebounded, I got hit with debris or something that resulted in my stupid scar."

Snape's jaw dropped. "Nevertheless," he said after a lengthy pause. "You may want to write to the editor and explain your inability to write with the finesse of a child. The corrections will be made automatically."

"That's all right, sir." Was the unexpected response. "I might start using those initials as a sort of pseudonym for my next project. Help keep me out of the spotlight."

The professor could only stare.

What in Merlin's name was wrong with that damnable boy? Severus just couldn't understand it. He, even as the youngest Potions Master in European history, had not been published until just before his seventeenth birthday. Granted, it was an original potion, not altering a well known headache of a potion. Even so, it was an impressive thing to be able to claim, especially considering the boy's age. Just into his fifth year! What part of that doesn't deserve recognition? With all of the brat's negative press, most of which was within the last few months, this should have been something worth celebrating!

He hesitated, putting down the magazine. The better question was, why did he care?

Harrison waved to a couple of younger years in their common room, urging them to go down to breakfast. He was pretending to look for something so that he could chat with a few members of the group he'd sussed out before. They had had two more meetings after the first one, when he was kicked off the team.

During said meetings, Harrison went into greater detail regarding his plans. So far, they were doing well, but it was time to step things up. Only three detentions, all served with either Filch or Snape, were given out, and maybe twenty points total were removed.

That was something that took a lot of convincing. They, after hours of talking, finally agreed that to make the necessary changes, they would have to risk the House Cup. It wasn't decided until several members of the group mentioned that there were plenty of people in the House that obviously didn't care at all, as they took the group's 'harassment' of Harrison as permission to declare open war on him.

He wondered how many of his housemates would have treated him badly if they had believed the newspapers like some. Seamus Finnegan was the leader of the 'I hate Harry Club', but it was steadily growing in followers.

It was worrying, but he did take solace in the fact that the group who knew what was really going on, were only firing minor spells and hexes at him. Seamus seemed to want to do the most damage with as little effort as possible. While the Irishman favored a silly tripping jinx, he was meticulously stationed wherever would hurt Harrison the most.

Usually on the stairs, sometimes on the sloping hills that led to the greenhouses. Once or twice (it was definitely twice) Seamus cast the tripping jinx when Harrison was surrounded by large crowds in the corridors. The first time it happened was as they were being dismissed from the Great Hall. There were so many people milling around that he was unable to get up before being stepped on at least a dozen times.

Around that time, Harrison had begun to almost be the tiniest bit grateful that his numerous detentions had forced him to look into healing spells and potions. The circumstances that made such knowledge necessary were less than pleasant, however.

Still, with his luck, it was pretty useful knowledge.

--

One day, early in December, just after sunrise, Harrison found himself back in Salazar's lab. It was finally time to start the actual brewing process. After his weeks of research, and a few less than subtle questions directed at Professor Snape, he realized why none of his ideas were working. He figured out everything he would need to be successful, but too many of the ingredients were unable to come into contact with one another in the ways they needed to be prepared. For example, the eel skin had to be pickled, which was fine (even if it did smell horrific) but it could not be combined with the minced Night Phlox.

The solution was simple in his mind. They had to be made into two separate potions.

Unfortunately though, it had to wait. He was planning on doing it today, but Umbitch decided that he needed more detention for sneezing in class. It wasn't his fault that Hermione decided to join the land of perfumed teenage girls, and it certainly wasn't his fault that she didn't appear to know when to stop spraying.

It just figures that it would happen right after Fred's little Weasel problem. The Great Brown Toad had decided that Fred's explanation of his appearance meant that Harrison had done it. She didn't care that he hadn't, or that the twins were constantly trying to explain that he didn't even know about it until Fred had gone to show (and explain) why he looked the way he did. It didn't matter.

He'd gone to McGonagall, already knowing what would happen. It might seem redundant, but Harrison knew that this would/could be brought up later to fit in with his plans.

As expected, when Harrison went to speak with her, he tried to explain what the hell was going on, but before he could say more than the words 'Professor, I need your help with-' she'd just cut him off and told him to keep his head down. Merlin, it was like first year all over again! This time, though, she actually had the gall to ask him if he enjoyed wasting his evenings in detention, then went on about how many points he'd single-handedly lost for her house!

He didn't care, honestly. If things went as planned, it wouldn't be his house for much longer anyway. This meeting did nothing but help him in the long run.

In any case, his brewing time had been restricted to making blood replenishing potion and another new one that had come from a very strange source.

During the meet and greet with his new elves, those Scandinavian Groundscutters made him wonder if it might have a similar effect to the cloves that tasted so similar. Cloves were in many various healing potions for their numbing qualities. He wanted to know about the properties of the Groundscutters.

He was only partially surprised that it didn't work with numbing. However, he was very much shocked when he realized that they were a natural coagulant if ingested with hamamelis. It wasn't perfect, but at least he wasn't bleeding all over the Great Brown Toad's office anymore, even if it was amusing to watch the fluffy pink carpet turn rusty brown.

--

As he waited for the rest of his housemates (under his cloak, of course) Harrison made sure that there was no chance of anyone running into him by mistake. Invisibility was only useful if no one became suspicious after all.

Thankfully, it only took a few minutes and three well placed brushes and whispers with the right people, for his group to stay behind.

"Alright," he said as he redistributed the cuffs. "So far, so good, but if I'm to get things moving, we've got to step things up. Every few days until Yule break, I'm going to stand somewhere so that a few of you can 'come up behind me' and hex the daylights out of me. If we do it that way, they won't be able to punish anyone individually. I'll just say that I only saw Gryff robes, that way, they won't know who to pin it on."

Heidi's hand shot into the air.

"This isn't class, Heidi. What is it?" Harrison had to make sure he didn't laugh at her. He didn't want these people actually mad at him, just to appear that way in public.

She blushed lightly. "Don't you think this is going a bit far? I'm not worried about the House Cup or anything, because we all know that the Headmaster has been rigging it in favor of us since you started here, but don't you think we can find another way to get you re-sorted? This seems a little extreme. You're literally dictating how and when you get hurt. Doesn't that strike anyone else as odd?"

"Yeah," George shrugged. "It is odd, but Harry's been over the school handbook and this is one of the only ways to get him switched."

"One of them." Heidi parroted slowly. "So, what are the others? Maybe we can work something else out?"

"Oh, sure," Fred rolled his eyes. He was in a fantastic mood. He'd woken up with all of his appropriate parts! It had been enough to make him do a happy jig before he jumped on his brother to show that he was back to normal. "If he wants to get married to someone from another House, or if you know how to make one of the other Heads a biological parent... I'm sure it's nothing a bit of time travel and love potions won't fix up."

"Fine, fine," she replied with her hands up in surrender. "I give. So, when do you want to do this, Harry?"

Harrison smiled a little. "Not too far from the infirmary. Put your hoods up and stay behind me. I want a few portraits to be able to say it was definitely Gryffindors, but not exactly who. Only a few of you need to do anything. Don't get too cloistered together. If you're all in a group, it won't be too hard to figure out who to question."

For a few more minutes, they broke down groups as well as what hexes and such were going to be thrown. If certain hexes were combined, they could have disastrous effects, so they were going to avoid that.

In the following two weeks, Harrison was either escorted or transported to the infirmary four times. Every time, the portraits narc'd out his own house, but he never saw a thing. It wasn't fun, but it was his only option. Yes, he could be switched because Snape was technically his father, but it couldn't come out yet. If everything went according to plan, he'd be ready for the news to break by early summer. There were too many things that needed to be done that no one could blame him for being involved with. If he was still the 'Golden Boy', then it was doubtful that too many accusatory looks would be thrown his way.

All at once, when December cropped up, the entire castle was turned into a winter wonderland.

One day, Harrison was on his way to yet another detention, when he overheard a group of Hufflepuffs having heated discussion.

"Does it even matter?" One seventh year boy was saying.

"Of course it does!" A first year girl cried out in indignation. "I thought that we were going to get away from all of this when we were accepted into a school of MAGIC."

"All of what, Maggie?" Another girl, in Harrison's own year, asked.

"Bloody Christmas!" The firstie yelled. "Ninety percent of the school doesn't even celebrate it, but to see this place, you'd think we were in a Christian boarding school! Did you know that less than a quarter of the muggleborns are Christians? Nearly a third of us are Jewish, but I don't see any stars of David hanging up anywhere, or even a menorah! And, what about you guys? Why aren't you mad that you're being bombarded by little Santa's, instead of celebrating Yule? Most of the school celebrates that! What about the students from other places? Islam is fairly common, but I don't think they have any December holidays. You know, I looked into it. There are only thirty or so students that celebrate Christmas, out of roughly five hundred. Seeing all of this in the muggle world isn't all that surprising, because it is the most commonly practiced holiday… But that isn't true here."

"It's just the Headmaster trying to make some of the muggleborns feel welcomed. Most of the ones that don't show up are... Crishans... like you said. He wants to show that we can be accommodating so that there aren't so many kids with magic and no training, in the muggle world." The boy said, attempting to placate her.

"But why does being accommodating mean that he's ignoring almost every single student, aside from those thirty? It isn't right!"

Harrison was shocked. How did a first year Hufflepuff pick up on this when he hadn't in the last five years?

He had picked up on her saying 'us' when mentioning Jewish students, so he took a piece of parchment out of his bag. Why not? He knew a little bit about Hanukkah, admittedly very little, but it should be enough.

Knowing that his drawing skills were not anyone's version of acceptable, he transfigured the plain parchment into a card with an unlit menorah. He knew what that looked like. Inside, he wrote a simple 'Happy Hanukkah! May you find peace, love and light!' He knew there was some kind of significance with lights, but not exactly what it was. From there, he drew a little star of David.

Ducking behind a suit of armor, he called for Eppie.

"Hello," the elf said happily. "What can I help you with?"

"Hey, Eppie. I have a project in mind that I want to talk to you about later, but for now, is there any way you can get your hands on a chocolate galleon or two?"

"The Headmaster has a standing order for them every December, and they're already in the kitchens. Why?" He asked curiously.

"Can you get me a couple?" He asked, hoping that there was no significance with the number that he might get wrong.

Eppie snapped his fingers and suddenly had a fistful of gold-foil wrapped coins.

"Excellent," he said, smiling. "Now, without saying who they're from, can you give them to the little Hufflepuff girl? Her name is Maggie. She's upset, so make sure you're nice to her."

When the elf nodded, Harrison handed him the card and watched him jog down the corridor, towards the still fuming girl.

He was all for inclusion, really. Make everyone feel welcome. That was a good thing. The only issue was, why was Christmas the only thing celebrated? That was not a wizarding holiday, but strictly muggle. Come to think of it, Harrison had been in this world for five years (close enough) and never once saw any celebrations of Wizarding holidays. Sure, he knew there were plenty, but where were they mentioned? Why were the Wizarding World's holidays being hidden beneath the muggle ones? Why was Samhain hidden away when Halloween was being celebrated? Why was Yule ignored in favor of Christmas? Why were Beltane and Imbolc not even mentioned?

Casting a notice me not charm on himself, Harrison got closer.

"Yous be Mistress Maggie?" Eppie asked, slipping easily back into 'Wizard Ego'.

The trio stopped.

"I am…" Maggie said suspiciously.

"This be's for little Mistress." Eppie handed over the card and coins.

She gasped at the gifts and hugged Eppie. "Thank you! How did you know?"

"Eppie not be's doing. Eppie just following Master's asks."

"What?"

"Who is your Master, Eppie?" The older girl asked.

"Eppie not being allowed to tell." He replied sadly. "Master sees little Mistress upset, so Master asks Eppie to give little Mistress this to makes her feels better."

Maggie sniffled. "That's okay, Eppie. Will you thank your master for me?"

"Eppie be doing!" He waved and snapped his fingers, vanishing on the spot.

For the first time, Harrison had a smile on his face as he strode toward detention. He was in a great mood.

Yule was coming fast, and soon all hell was going to break loose.

Chapter End Notes

My little sister and I have a bet going to see how many hits I get by the end of this month. I'm guessing 8000, but she's guessing closer to 12000. Let's see who is closer...

Chapter 15

Chapter Notes

Okay, so I felt bad for not posting for two weeks, so... here's another chapter! Let me know what you guys think

"What is the meaning of this?" Bellatrix shrieked in fury, echoing off the walls in the Gringotts lobby. "You dare force our summons?" She was a wanted felon, and had no intention of getting caught, especially by the disgusting little goblins.

Griphook scoffed at the witch. This woman was meant to be the primary caregiver of Harrison?

"Hold your tongue, Bella." Lucius said sharply, running a hand through his long hair. "Whatever your business, it will be conducted in private."

The goblin nodded once. "There are three more parties involved that should arrive momentarily. We will further discuss our business in my office."

Less than five seconds later, two distinct cracks of apparition were heard, attracting the attention of the Lord and Lady Malfoy and their sister/sister in-law. A third followed quickly after.

In a flash, wands were drawn, but Griphook was quicker. He waved his hand, rendering all non goblin magic useless. "You will remain civil, or my guards will bind you. Follow me."

Still trying to figure out what was happening with their wands, they made sure to keep their distance. Even as they settled into the office, Sirius and Remus kept to the far left, the Malfoys and the Lestrange woman to the far right, while Severus remained in the center of the group.

"A client that has brought several things to my attention that seems to involve the six of you. Consent has been given to list off some of the more prevalent aspects of their health screening. Love potions for three years, loyalty potions and compulsions for four years, animosity compulsions for four years, and several personality alteration spells. All of these were placed routinely on my clients' personage, to the point of near magical and physical crippling. Said client has agreed to pay for the examinations for all of you, as well as the rituals to break them, should they be required. I have also been given permission to tell you that the amount of magic necessary to remove less than half of these things from my client left him in a magically induced coma for several days as they were so ingrained in their core and mind."

"So, who exactly is this client? They obviously don't know as much as they seem to think, because then they'd know that putting this lot together is a bad idea." Sirius snarled at his cousins as well as Snivellus and Malfoy. He stayed close to Remus, praying that the wolf would keep him from killing them.

"My client will keep their identity private until such a time as the tests and rituals are completed. As it stands, my client is prepared to meet you all tomorrow, should you wish it."

Icily made comments were diffused by the potions master. "Am I correct in assuming that this will be a routine health screening? A few drops of blood, perhaps? If that is the case, then we should all be able to leave fairly quickly. That is, unless you prefer to remain in each other's company longer than necessary, by halting the process with childish bickering."

Properly chastised, they went silent. Remus and Severus were the only ones who had kept calm.

"The Healer that will be assisting you all will be my mate, Thortac. She is the best, and also discreet."

"Forgive me," Remus said politely. "Though we are not to know the identity of the person who brought these... irregularities to your attention, may I ask why this person believes us to be involved?"

"Certainly," came the reply. "Upon the bidding of my client, two Wills have been unsealed and heard for the first time. Only after all tests have been dealt with, you will hear them and meet with my client. To refuse these tests would be very unwise, as I have heard the evidence myself, and my client is powerful and influential. This person has also been given the full backing of the Goblin Nation."

Six sets of eyes widened in shock. For a goblin to get involved with wizard business beyond accounting or legalities was unheard of. Even the psychotic prison escapees were silent.

"Is there any more you can tell us before the Healer gets here?" Narcissa asked.

"Nothing that is necessary, Lady Malfoy." Griphook stifled a grin. No one was ever going to call her that again not after tonight. Hers would not be the only changing name. Narcissa would revert to the name and House of Black, Severus would be elevated to Prince-Malfoy, and if the Will of the late Lord Potter were followed, then the werewolf would eventually become either Remus Black or Lupin-Black. Sirius Black would become Lord Black once again, as soon as his name was cleared, but would never be able to lower his standing by taking the Lupin name unless he were to abdicate his title.

He wondered if the two even knew about their relationship. It was obvious that the Malfoys and Snape had no idea, but in the case of the wolf and the grim, he could not be sure.

Just then, Thortac announced her presence. "Pleasantries aside, I need to know who is agreeing to the testing, and who is going to incur the wrath of our young lord, and by extension, the Goblin Nation. If you decide to leave, we will not stop you, but you should know that nothing discussed later will be revealed to you, as per the predetermined wishes of the young lord. Each of you who agrees to the tests will be subject to an Unbreakable Vow of silence on this matter."

More stunned faces. What in Merlin's name could be so important?

Itching with curiosity, no one left, but Bellatrix looked conflicted. She was, after all, a wanted felon. In the end, she stayed.

Griphook went over the stipulations of the Vow, making sure that they could find no loopholes to reveal any information without express verbal consent from Harrison, without naming him, of course.

Narcissa Alya Black

Potions/Compulsions

-Love potions
-keyed to Lucius Malfoy

-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward any outside the followers of Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort)
-keyed toward anyone with 'lesser' blood status

Personality Alteration Spells
-increased self importance
-intense vanity

Blocks
-metamorphmagus

Remus John Lupin

Potions/Compulsions

-Loyalty potions
-keyed toward Albus Dumbledore
-keyed toward the "Order of the Phoenix"

-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort) and followers
-keyed toward Fenrir Greyback and any other werewolf

-Apprehension compulsions
-keyed toward any Slytherin past and present (mild)
-keyed toward anyone with creature blood

Personality Alterations
-low self esteem
-aggressive behavior (to increase monthly within week of full moon)

Oddities
-magical core leech (10%)

Lucius Abraxas Prince-Malfoy

Potions/Compulsions

-Love potions
-keyed toward Narcissa Alya Black

-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward anyone of 'lesser' blood status, wealth and nobility status
-keyed toward homosexuals
-keyed toward anyone with creature blood

-Apprehension compulsions
-keyed toward ambitious persons without 'proper' status

Personality Alterations
-increased self importance
-sexuality denial

Full Blocks/Binds
-Veela inheritance
-Soulmate bond(s)
-Occlumency

Severus Tobias Prince-Malfoy nee Snape (pending)

Potions/Compulsions
-Love potions
-keyed toward altered memory of 'Lily Zinnia Potter' (Lilyana Zinnia Potter nee Snape nee Evans)

-Loyalty potions
-keyed toward Albus Dumbledore
-keyed toward the "Order of the Phoenix" (mild)

-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward James Potter
-keyed toward Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort) and followers
-keyed toward all Gryffindors past and present
-keyed toward _ _ _ (set to increase gradually)

-Apprehension compulsions
-keyed toward all students outside Slytherin
-keyed toward all authority figures (excluding Albus Dumbledore)

Personality Alterations
-lack of empathy
-lack of patience
-lack of compassion
-sexuality denial

Blocks/Binds
-Occlumency (40% blocked)
-Legillimency (65% blocked
-Eidetic Memory (40% blocked)

Full Blocks/Binds
-Soulmate bond(s)
-submissive mate to illegally bound Veela

Oddities
-magical core leech (20%)

Sirius Orion Black

Potions/Compulsions
-Loyalty potions
-keyed toward Albus Dumbledore
-keyed toward the 'Order of the Phoenix'
-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward all Slytherins past and present
-keyed toward Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort) and followers
-keyed toward Severus Tobias Snape (Severus Tobias Snape-Malfoy)

Personality Alterations
-increased recklessness
-lack of patience
-increased impulsive behavior

Blocks/Binds
-metamorphmagus

Oddities
-magical core leech (10%)

Bellatrix Lyra Lestrange nee Black

Potions/Compulsions

-Lust potions
-keyed toward Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort)

-Animosity compulsions
-keyed toward anyone of "lesser" blood status
-keyed toward anyone of "light" magic

Personality Alterations
-mental instability (set to gradually increase until suicide)
-increased violent tendencies
-increased emotional instability

Blocks/Binds
-basic core bind (30%)

Full Blocks
-metamorphmagus

For a while, no one spoke. Severus broke the silence.

"Can you explain a few of the items on this list?" He asked shakily, taking a seat.

"Certainly," Griphook grinned, making a mental note to put the events of the night in a pensieve for Harrison. "What would you like clarified specifically?"

With that, Severus hesitated. Where did he start? "Perhaps with the first line. This must be a mistake. Neither of these is my surname, and I know of no reason to have a pending notation accompanying my name. Furthermore, my mother and I were disinherited from the Prince line upon my own conception."

"She was cut off, you were not. The pending note reads thusly because, while you are technically Lord Prince, you have yet to formally accept the title. You have been sent dozens of letters since your seventeenth birthday. They have all been accepted, but never replied to."

Severus sat. "I'm afraid I don't understand. I've been on probation since 1980. I couldn't accept a Lordship if I wanted to."

For the first time since August, Griphook was genuinely at a loss. "Who told you that you were on probation? I can assure you, sir, that has never been the case."

His eyes widened for a brief moment. "The next part, then? I'm quite sure I've never been married."

This part would be fun. Griphook grinned. "I have, on record, two signed marriage licenses. The first, to Mrs. Lilyana Zinnia Potter nee Snape nee Evans, dated three days after your graduation. The other, to Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, dated the same."

The shouts of confusion and denial sprang up from all six of the clients. His clients, hopefully, after all was said and done. To have so many prominent and wealthy witches and wizards under a single account manager would elevate his position at Gringotts. He waved his hand and they all fell silent.

"Shall we continue?" He asked, easily hiding his glee. Oh, most of these people were prided on their cool exteriors, and he was able to witness their breakdowns. This was going to be a good day, well, night.

"While many of these are not particularly shocking, I find myself curious at the blank space under the animosity compulsions. Why is it blank? And who is it?"

"It is blank because, at the wish of my client, he is to be kept anonymous until you all meet. He has made his instructions quite clear on this matter, and requested the meeting for tomorrow so that you might use the time between now and noon to collect yourselves and act appropriately. He himself went into a state of shock and had to be sedated. Anything else, Professor?"

"No, I fear this is going to be much more informative, and I would rather be in my right mind before learning more." He sighed inaudibly.

"Very well," the goblin nodded. "For orders' sake, we will go from my right to left. As it stands, Lady Lestrange, you will be first."

Bellatrix, at some point, had lowered herself to the floor and was staring tearfully at her parchment. "Nothing," she mumbled, handing her screening to her sister. "Just... just fix me."

The rest of the party was staring at her with shocked expressions, no one ever having seen the aggressive crazy woman so subdued.

"Oh, Bella!" Narcissa gasped, quickly scanning the page.

"Ms. Black?" Griphook asked, catching the woman's attention.

Narcissa was having a difficult time trying to pry her eyes away from her sister. "Right, um, my... my marriage. W-why am I not listed as Lady Malfoy? I understand that there was a love potion involved, but I remember the bonding ceremony. Why do I remember that if it never happened?"

"It did, in fact, happen, Ms. Black. As Lord Malfoy was previously bonded, it was immediately voided."

"Then, like Severus, I will wait for further explanations." She gave a nod and gracefully knelt by her sister, gently speaking words of encouragement.

"Lord Malfoy?" Griphook prompted. With any luck, when he underwent the ritual cleansing, he would be less hostile toward goblins. He really was an awful client. His own account manager, Rodsplitter, hated dealing with him.

Lucius leaned back in his chair, covering his mouth and pocketing his parchment. "No."

"Very well. Mr. Lupin?" This was rather amusing. The society driven purebloods were cowed into silence. Griphook almost laughed. This was going to be worth seeing again, he mused. When Harrison viewed the memory, he was going into the pensieve as well.

"Only one question," the werewolf replied, slightly distracted. "The magical core leech. If my magic is being siphoned, to whom is it going?"

Excellent question, Griphook thought. "Unfortunately, while I do know, my client wishes to explain that himself tomorrow. All of the illegal magics upon your persons have been placed by the same wizard."

"Why aren't we allowed to know?" Sirius demanded, slamming his fist on the desk. "You already know! You said your client wants to explain, but we have a right-"

"Enough, Siri," Remus sighed. "How quickly can these all be broken?"

"When we are finished here, Mr. Lupin." The goblin said easily. "Do you have any other questions, Lord Black?"

"Yeah," Sirius said venomously. "Like why the fuck we can't know who did all of this?!"

"You will, at noon. As for the explanation, it is simple. There is a time limit in which charges can be brought up, and these magics were performed just over fifteen years ago. The statute of limitations gives victims a total of ten years to come forward, and yours have all expired. However," he raised his voice to drown out the complaints. "My client has had more of these blocks, bindings, spells, potions and compulsions than any of you, and is well within his time frame to press charges. He specifically asked me not to inform you until after all rituals have been completed so that you do not attempt to take matters into your own hands. Now, this is a direct quote, mind you, 'I don't want any of them going to Azkaban for murder. At least, not yet. I can take the bastard down legally, but I'd rather not lose my family.' As I have mentioned, he is quite powerful, and is also able to add several charges, including, but not limited to kidnapping, illegal potions usage, attempted line theft, accessory to child abuse, child abuse, dozens of counts of theft, falsifying legal documents, et cetera. Should everything go according to plan, this person will never see the light of day again."

Severus gasped. His realization sparked anger, pure unrestrained anger. It was rolling off him in waves. He gripped the arms of his chair so tightly, his knuckles turned white. The only person who could be responsible for all of this... The one who told him of his probation in the first place... The one who 'rescued' him from Azkaban... The only person who would hire him afterwards. Dumbledore.

Remus was shocked, and slightly afraid of who it could possibly be, based solely on the magic whipping around his ex colleague. Everyone was shrinking away from him. "Lucius! If you really are bound, you might be able to make this stop. Grab his arm!"

Lord Malfoy was too stunned by his longtime friends' behavior to move. Severus had never let so much emotion show, and it was terrifying. He, like the rest, backed away when everything in the cramped office began whipping around from an unnatural wind.

Remus tried to get closer, but fell back when a tendril of magic lashed across his chest, ripping open his worn robes. He hissed, trying to stop the blood flow.

Sirius, of all people, tried next. He grunted when he too was lashed, but got closer. He jammed his hand into the professor's pocket, earning another magical lash, and pulled out a handful of potion vials. Snivellus only used unbreakable phials, so he didn't worry about them shattering. Upon finding the correct label, he attempted to take the cork out, but was dropped to his knees when he was lashed again. Noting how unresponsive the man was, Sirius spelled the draught directly into his stomach and finally collapsed.

After a few seconds, the wind began dying down and Remus flung himself to the floor, checking Sirius for a pulse.

"Stop!" Griphook said sharply, casting a stasis charm on the heavily bleeding man. "Thortac is down the hall. I will retrieve her."

He scrawled two words on a sheet of parchment and threw it in the air. 'Healing, now'

Within seconds, Thortac barged in, looking furious. "The young Lord told you to take their wands, Griphook!" She shouted while sealing up the gashes. Two blood replenishing potions would have him on his feet in no time. "He'll be fine." She waved her hand and Sirius gasped, his eyes opening fully.

"Pah!" Griphook spat. "There were no wands involved." Besides, up to that point, he was enjoying himself greatly. And, since Lord Black was healed, he would continue to do so.

Thortac scoffed. At least Harrison didn't carry on like this. "Before I forget, the young lord has a gift for you, Lord Black. It just arrived. Congratulations." She dropped a newspaper on his chest and left the room. As a business, Gringotts received the Daily Prophet before the personal copies were delivered.

Paper in hand, he groaned and sat up. He tossed it aside. What the hell kind of gift was that anyway? "What are you, five?" He demanded, glaring at Snape.

"Congratulations, indeed," came the calm reply of Severus, as he read the headline on the front page.

Lord Black Exonerated! Who Was the Potter's True Betrayer?

"What?" Sirius gaped at the paper on the floor. He snatched it up and stood, reading quickly.

You read that correctly, my lovely readers. It appears that the escaped convict Sirius Black has been exonerated just yesterday evening by Amelia Bones. She has been anonymously provided pensieve proof of the truly horrific events that took place on the night of Lord Black's arrest. So who really did betray the Potters? Who truly is responsible for our very own Boy-Who-Lived becoming an orphan? And who really murdered all those poor defenseless muggles?

The memories shown have the guilty party admitting his guilt in front of multiple witnesses, in addition to how he evaded capture! Apparently, my lovelies, this man is an unregistered animagus, and used his ability to pose as the pet rat of one, Ronald Weasel, son of Ministry employee Arnold Weasel! The true villain faked his own death at the hands Lord Black himself! As you, my brilliant readers, may have guessed, it was none other than Peter Pettigrew! It was Pettigrew's cries that alerted nearby Aurors to the scene where he caused the explosion that destroyed homes, killing thirteen muggles. His death was presumed after Aurors, who witnessed the commotion, found a finger belonging to Pettigrew. According to the freely given memories, Pettigrew cut it off himself just before causing the explosion, turning into his illegal rat animagus form and fleeing into the sewers!

(For full accounting of memories, see pages 6-8)

Written by Rita Skeeter

"Remmy," Sirius gasped softly. "Remmy, who did this?"

"Whoever it is, we owe them a great deal." Remus wrapped his arms around his lover. Now he really wanted to know who this young lord was.

"If that article didn't tell you who our mystery person is, I find myself questioning your sanity and intelligence, Lupin." Severus sneered. "Think about it logically. Who, besides us, was there the night that Pettigrew escaped the shack, that was in line for a Lordship?"

Realization hit Remus first, Sirius only a second or two later.

"I'm buying that kid every new broom that comes out for the rest of his fucking life!" Sirius cried out with a wide smile.

"Yes, it's wonderful," Remus mumbled distractedly. He righted his upturned chair and dropped into it.

"What is wrong with you, Rem?" Sirius asked, incredulously. "I'm free! And we can finally-

"Me?" Remus snarled. "I'm wondering what the hell is wrong with you! If he really is the mystery client, think about everything that Griphook has said! He was nearly crippled by the sheer amount of magics put on him! Think about the list of potions and spells and compulsions! For fuck's sake, Siri! Even the list of unrelated charges he has for whoever did this to us all! What part of that is good?" He was shouting now, and he didn't care.

"Well, his change of appearance certainly makes sense now," Snape mused, still under the effects of the calming draughts. "I am, however, questioning his recently strained friendships."

Change of appearance? "Wh-"

"All will be explained tomorrow, I am sure," he sighed, turning his attention to the goblin. "Given your young lord's... difficulties with the cleansing rituals, do you believe we will suffer similar effects? While I want the situation rectified, I cannot simply vanish for a week to slip into a coma. My schedule will not allow it."

"No," Griphook said, sounding bored. "As I have said already, his scans were much more extensive than any of yours, in addition to his poor health."

"How extensive are we talking?" Sirius asked gravely, angry for his pup. "And what poor health?"

"All I will reveal, is that he has been healed, and he is scheduled for further rituals during the break."

"More?" Remus whispered desperately. "After all that, he isn't finished? Oh, pup."

Forgetting about their own problems, Sirius and Remus slumped. "We need to see him, Rem. We can get sorted out later, let's just go see him."

"I'm afraid that is impossible at the moment. As a fully emancipated adult, he is at one of his hidden properties." They didn't need to know that Harrison was staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight. "It is his wish that this be taken care of immediately, and again, he will be here in the morning." Griphook was losing patience. How many times did he have to repeat himself? Humans.

Chapter 16

Chapter Notes

I got a little lazy with editing (it's a quarter after 3am, don't judge me) so... if you see any screw ups, let me know politely

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Four hours later, the six adults sat together in total silence. It was only nine am, and they still had a few hours before Harry showed up. No one had drawn their wands.

No one had spoken in more than an hour. And no one knew what to say.

Narcissa eventually got a hold of herself long enough to actually have a complete thought. "Lucius, Severus, what do we tell Draco? How do I tell my baby that I'm not his mother?"

Startled out of their silence, they shifted and some shook their heads.

Severus hung his head. "He doesn't have a mother any longer. I bore him, yet now must tell him that he has no mother."

Lucius smiled gently. "Draco's always loved him, but even his friends are terrified of Sev. We had planned on more. Originally, we wanted three. I wanted sons, but Sev always wanted a girl."

Remus chuckled. "Just think of your students' reactions to that statement."

"So," Narcissa said hesitantly. "We will tell him the truth, but when?"

"Well," Sirius suggested. "We could all do it together, over the summer holidays. It could be like when we were younger. I'd be happy to let Remmy tell you all the location of an island I own. Fidelius charm and all that."

"No," Bellatrix said. "He has two weeks before break is over. Why don't we all go tomorrow? Just disappear for a while, and figure everything out together."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "It's a good idea, but I can't go with you. Sorry," he paused so they could bicker at him. "I have to make sure Harry is okay. He's got more rituals that need to be done, and I have to be there for my pup."

"Harry?" Bellatrix asked, confused. "Why would the Potter boy... Is that who you were talking about earlier? Is he the mysterious young lord that the goblin kept on about?"

"Yes, Bella," Severus said sadly. "He is. I understand the mutt's desire to stay. If Draco had to have these done, I would want to stay as well. In fact, with your permission Siri, I'd like to. It's strange... Knowing what I know, versus what I've done. For years I hated that boy for being exactly like James, but now I know that I never hated James. Not after second year, anyway."

"I remember that!" Remus exclaimed loudly, laughing. "Jamie had never seen you or Luce fly before, and swore it was because you couldn't. None of us ever did understand why you never went to the professional league. To this day, I've yet to see anyone match your skill at seeking except for Harry."

"Did he tell you how he got on the Quidditch house team?" Severus asked amusedly. "Draco is still upset about that, because it was essentially his fault."

Remus and Sirius shook their heads.

"Draco was harassing a Gryffindor, Longbottom, I believe. He was trying to show off or some nonsense, and took the boy's remembrall. They're difficult enough to see unless it's nearby. Anyway, Draco pitched it across the field, and Harry took off after it. Even with his glasses, and never having been on a broom before, he pulled off a truly spectacular save, and somehow managed to pull back less than three meters away from the side of the castle." Severus snorted. "Even I couldn't have done that. I doubt Viktor Krum could have either."

They smiled.

"Merlin," he groaned miserably. "What has that boy been through?"

"No worries, professor," came a hiss from the door. "It's nearly over."

As Severus was the only one able to understand him, he was the only person that didn't jump. "So, 'Young Lord', you've decided to show up early."

"Only by a couple of hours." He smirked. "Besides, we have some work to do before my appointment."

"Indeed we do," Severus agreed.

Harry's godfather and honorary godfather jumped up and wrapped him in tight hugs. "Oh, cub! What in the fiery pits of hell has been going on with you?" Sirius demanded, finally letting go to give him a once over. "Look at you! You look like a muggle rocker. What is this about?" He tugged gently on a lock of shocking green hair.

"Teenage angst, I suppose," Harrison joked.

Severus snorted.

His godfathers stared at him. "Er, Harry?" Remus began awkwardly. "Perhaps English would be helpful to those of us who don't speak Slytherin?"

Harrison smacked his forehead and handed them ear cuffs. Remus looked confused, but Sirius laughed. "Godric, I haven't worn one of these since I was a kid." He hooked it right on, and his lover followed suit.

"They translate for me." Harrison explained easily, taking out three more for the others. Truthfully, he was surprised that the professor still had his on.

"Why do you need a translator, Harry?" Remus asked with concern.

"Errant curse over the summer. Doesn't matter." he replied. "Shall we-"

"No more secrets, Mr. Potter." Severus cut in.

Harrison's eyes narrowed. "Sir, no!"

Without a second thought, Severus cast a silencing spell on the boy. "Mr. Potter's affliction was brought to my attention just after the welcoming feast. He lied about it then, too."

After a moment of struggling, he broke the spell. "Don't! There are more important things to worry about right now. This is hardly the right time." He hissed angrily. "This has nothing to do with you, so I am going to say this one last time. Stay out of it!"

Severus rolled his eyes, giving the remaining Marauders a quick nod.

Quick as a flash, Harrison was bound to a chair while the other two held silencing spells over him. He pulled at the ropes, but they tightened on his arms. His heart rate seemingly doubled and he was trying to force himself not to panic, focusing instead on getting out of the ropes.

"He was strangled by his muggle relatives over the summer." Snape said, his jaw set firmly.

Anger surged through him and he gave up on the ropes. A second later, he stood as the chair exploded, sending bits of splintered wood in all directions. "How fucking dare you?!"

"Easily," Snape said, startled that he had broken their combined spells.

Harrison held out his hand and every wand in the room soared from their owners into his palm.

"They are NOT my relatives." He snarled.

"Not anymore," Remus said softly. "Griphook told us you've been emancipat-"

Fuck it, Harrison thought. "No! They never were related to me. Lily and James never slept together. How could you not question that your best friend was gay? Or that Lily was married to them?" He pointed to Snape and Malfoy Sr, still seething. "Have none of you figured it out?" Incredible. These people were supposed to be intelligent!

No one connected the dots.

"Say, professor? Was Draco premature?" He taunted. "By about two months, perhaps?"

They were all lost.

"How did you know that, Mr. Potter?" Lucius asked levelly.

"His pregnancy was strained because of the magic that Dumblefuck used to separate us. The bastard didn't know it was twins when he cast the spell that transferred me to Lily. The spell siphoned off Lucius' genetic makeup so that no one would figure it out. It nearly killed me and Lily both. They had to perform a blood adoption within three days of the transfer."

Thud.

In their collective shock, no one moved to rouse the unconscious potions master.

Harrison rolled his eyes and waved his hand to lift the man and place him on the loveseat next to Lucius, then again to wake him.

"Have you finished, then?" He asked angrily. "I'd really not like to have to keep correcting what you think you know."

"Harry!" Sirius gaped.

"Wrong again!" He snapped, carding his hands through his hair. "Harrison Potter Snape, at your service."

There was a loud cackle from outside the door.

"Griphook, will you take care of this? I want to see if Thortac can have the team come in early. If I don't get out of here, I'm going to hurt someone."

The goblin walked in with his smirk still in place. "They're already here. I had a feeling your guests would act out. If you want, you can view the memories of their antics. The pensieve is in my office." He spoke in flawless parseltongue. "It is quite amusing."

With a nod, he gave the goblin a fist pound and left the room. "Tell them everything. I'm already exhausted and it's only ten." Pausing, he dropped the handful of wands on the floor, and kept on.

Back to me, Griphook thought with a sigh. "We can return to my office. It is unlikely that my Lord will be able to see anyone before tomorrow."

Without question, the subdued humans followed. There was also little reaction when Griphook collected the wands in a box, trading them out for six tiny vials of translucent green potion.

"What's this?" Severus asked warily, unable to quell his curiosity despite the last eventful several hours. He wafted the potion toward his nose, knowing better than to deeply inhale an unknown substance. Swirling its contents, holding it to the light, he could not come up with a definitive answer. "It is similar to standard calming draughts, but the consistency is off."

"It's a calming draught," Griphook confirmed. "Just an altered one. Harrison came up with it. Thrice the potency, but without the drowsiness effect and lasts for over sixteen hours."

"That's not possible," Bellatrix stated, though not unkindly. "Concentrating a draught that much would kill someone. Or at least put them in a coma. Suddenly, blindly following orders doesn't appeal to me any longer."

"Were I not the one instructing him," Severus said. "I would be inclined to agree with you." He downed the potion.

"Nothing against you, Sev," Sirius shook his head. "We all know that kid is absolute pants at potions. I love him dearly, but I wouldn't trust him with a third year potion, let alone something like that."

The remaining adults eyed the potions and politely put them on Griphook's desk.

"It should be mentioned that in his first class this term, I was testing the class on the assigned reading from the summer, as I do with every class. That in itself was nothing new. What did shock me, however, was not only the fact that he was prepared, but that he admitted to not having done any of the reading until the last week in August. At some point within that week, he managed to figure out how to successfully change the formula for the reactionem tempus potion so dramatically that he had it published under a pseudonym. Took the brewing process from over twelve hours to less than four. He was also able to counteract the limited shelf life, making it able to be stored for two years. Specifically, two years, four months, one week and four days, according to the staff that runs the time chamber of the Mastery offices. Then, just last month, I came across the same pseudonym in a potion master's publication for his works on the Wolfsbane potion. Apparently, he is mere months from essentially curing lycanthropy by way of forcing the were form into mimicking an animagus form."

"What?" Remus whispered, tears in his eyes.

"Take it, Remus," Severus hitched his chin at the vial, very relaxed. "All of you, really. It's quite marvelous."

Sirius hesitated. "Uh, Sev? Are... are you stoned?"

He smirked. "Not since we were sixteen. No, I am quite content though. Very relaxed."

Grimacing, Sirius took a calming breath, but downed it. The effect was nearly instantaneous. Rather than just relax his racing thoughts, it also took away his physical tension. "Merlin," he mumbled. They might not be stoned, but he was pleased at being able to think on one thing for more than a few seconds.

"As you are all thinking clearly and rationally, we have much to discuss." Griphook finally said.

"Can we begin with Harry-er, Harrison?" Sirius asked politely. "Right now, that's the most important thing I can think of."

"Of course," the goblin agreed, pulling out large stacks of parchment. "To begin with, Harrison was correct. Severus is his biological father. Lucius should have been, but again, you already know about that. Biologically he is no longer your son, but, should he choose to undo the blood adoption with James Potter, it can be redone with you. As he is a legally emancipated adult, that decision lies with him alone."

"Thank you," Lucius nodded.

"As far as his childhood, it is... far from pleasant." He handed Severus the two sheets of parchment that listed all of the illegal magics on his son.

The entire group crowded around to read over his shoulders. The varying speeds they were able to read determined the shocked gasps that came from them.

"This here," Lucius said, confused. "I've never heard of this. What is a Gemini soulmate?"

"Gemini, in this case, refers to magical twins. They quite literally share a soul, and are incredibly rare. They are born for the sole purpose of grounding extremely powerful beings. Together, their magic will be impressive, but even still, not enough to equal the one they are born for."

"But isn't having a split soul dangerous?" Severus asked.

"Typically, yes. In the case of magical twins, they begin as one. Think of it this way, if you have something in a container, full enough to spill over, then the most reasonable course of action would be to split the contents into two containers. For that purpose, it is divided equally between the two. The remaining space is filled by two separate personalities, while sharing the soul. Plainly, if the twins in question would not have split immediately, the magical overload would have killed them and their bearer."

"All of that was made specifically because Harry-Harrison is so powerful?" Remus gasped. "When was the last time something like this occurred?"

"Roughly a dozen times throughout the history of magical beings, but only twice in wizard history. The first being Merlin himself, the second was a young lady who died before meeting her Gemini. Her magic scared everyone, so her older brother had her drowned at the age of ten." Griphook frowned. "If my Lord had not met his Gemini already, he would have died by the time he reached puberty. He would have sunk into a depression so deeply that his body would have simply shut down."

Severus thought for a moment. "The only twins I know of, that he could have met, are the Patil's and the Weasley's. Perhaps, when he lived with Lily's family?"

"That is unlikely." Griphook replied. "By the way my Lord's powers have grown, he would not have been able to walk into this building of his own volition if he had not seen them since he was with those... people. The strain of the bond would have him bedridden inside three months. Within four, he would have been gone."

"So, they have to be at Hogwarts." Remus stated. "Has he ever mentioned his sexuality to anyone?"

"Yes, quite loudly, in fact. In the great hall, during the first week of September. It was in the Prophet for a couple of weeks. I am unaware of the full conversation, but I did note that Granger all but ran away from him after that." Severus mused. "If memory serves, he was sitting between the Weasley's."

"That hardly surprises me," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "Hermione and I got on rather well before she found out that Siri and I were together. Hasn't spoken to me since. In truth, I can't say it was much of a loss."

"Quite," Griphook said, growing bored. He shifted the parchment back into its appropriate pile. "Moving on. Unsealing the Potter's Wills-"

"Wait," Bellatrix interrupted. "You said the Wills were only unsealed a few months ago. We're curious about him and you just skipped fifteen years."

"Yes, I did." He hefted the stack to put away, but was stopped.

"Please," Severus and Lucius said together.

Narcissa swept her hair over her shoulder. "He did say to tell us everything. What is all of this?"

"He's a very private being," Sirius said sadly. "It isn't easy getting anything personal out of him. I'm not sure if any of us really knows him."

"My Lord did say everything, but I doubt he meant to include these files." He knew perfectly well that Harrison would not want these shared, but also that it needed to be. It was no accident that he pulled out the entire stack for two pages that were near the top. "Be it on your own heads." He waved his hand, splitting the stack into more manageable ones. "The two stacks are as follows: In the care of Hogwarts, summer holidays and before his enrollment."

Remus and Sirius, along with Harrison's fathers, looked over the stack on the right, while Bellatrix and Narcissa took the stack on the left.

The males gasped a couple of times, and snorted in amusement at others. They were finished fairly quickly. It was only a few pages.

Narcissa and Bellatrix were in tears by the time they finished the second page of the massive pile.

Completely bewildered by the women's' hysterics, the four men began dissecting the pile. None of them made it past the fifth page.

Griphook moved his hand subtly, shifting a specific page to the top. He knew he was risking his position as Harrison's account manager by showing this particular abuse, but he was given permission to divulge everything. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the page on top a few times, hoping the shocked group would take the hint.

It wasn't the only time that particular type of abuse was committed, but the first. The boy had been six.

Silent tears fell from each of their eyes, but nothing was said for a while.

"I think that's enough," the goblin said carefully, stowing the stacks in his desk. "Given the circumstances, I understand if you need a moment before we continue."

"Any chance that the draught has negative effects when combined with alcohol?" Sirius asked hoarsely with a weak chuckle.

By way of response, Griphook summoned a large crystal decanter of amber liquid and half a dozen glasses. He waited for them to take their drinks before continuing.

He let them listen to the Wills.

During Lily's, they were all laughing uproariously at Lucius' gift and Remus explained what a lottery ticket was. In the end, they agreed that a meeting with the Dark Lo-Tom was in order.

From everything they found out, and everything they remembered, the group had much to discuss. For hours, they waited in a private, and heavily warded, conference room. It had been decided that they would honor Lily's Will and take a trip together. Draco would come along, as well as Harrison, if he was well enough or even wanted to. They would go to Sirius' island, which Bellatrix and Narcissa hadn't been to since they married their husbands, real and fake respectively.

Despite the fact that they had no further business to attend to, none of them could bring themselves to leave until they knew Harrison was okay. He had already been in the ritual room for longer than the rest of them combined. It wasn't until a goblin came in to inform them that they had to leave, that they realized that it was nine pm and the bank was closing for the night.

"Forgive me," Remus said kindly. "Do you know if Griphook is still in? Or the Healer, Thortac, I believe he called her."

"They are both with a very important client, as well as many of the other employees." The goblin said. "If there is nothing else, I will be going. Both will return by morning."

"Thank you," he replied. "We'll go now. My apologies for taking over your conference room for so long."

Bellatrix cast glamours on herself to avoid being seen. She was now shorter, with pin straight blonde hair and was half as curvaceous.

"So," Lucius began awkwardly as they stood in Diagon Alley. "Where are we all going? Severus and Cissa, what do we do?"

"Well," Narcissa shrugged. "We haven't shared a room in years anyway, and Draco would hardly be surprised to see Sev at the manor. Why don't we all just go there?" It had been decided that Narcissa would get her dowry returned to her, as her parents were no longer living, and she would use it to purchase a new house or manor for herself and Draco when he visited. Lineage be damned, he was her son too, and they had all agreed. No respectable person could turn their back on someone simply because they were not blood related. Family was family.

"Me too?" Sirius asked hopefully. "The only time I plan on ever going back to that so-called safe house is to change the wards, kicking everyone out. I'll have the place cleaned up and either given to someone in the family or sold."

"Of course, Siri," Lucius nodded. "We'd be happy to have you."

"I need to reintroduce myself to Rudolphus," Bellatrix joked weakly. "With any luck, I won't have to visit the manor."

Remus gave her a comforting hug. "You'll be fine, Bella."

"So," she smirked at the wolf. "Are you two going to follow Jamie's Will?"

He blushed, but Sirius grinned widely. "As soon as Remmy let's me ask."

With a chuckle, Remus sighed. "Will I see you all here in the morning? I'll be here by seven."

"That's a given," Sirius said. "And avoiding the topic won't save you forever!" He'd been trying to convince Remus to marry him since about six months after the incident at Hogwarts. They both knew that he couldn't apply for a marriage license while he was a wanted man, but now he had been exonerated. If he had his way, he'd be a married man before sunrise, but he'd wait for his lover to be ready.

The next morning, five of the six were standing outside Gringotts. It was half past.

"Has anyone seen Bella?" Her sister asked, slightly nervous. She'd been worrying about it since Rudolphus was mentioned. They had fallen in love and married a couple of years before she was sent mad, but Rudo had grown accustomed to it, and at some points, seemed to enjoy it. How would he react to a total turnaround?

"She's been here for hours." An annoyed goblin said. It was the same goblin that had kicked them out.

The group looked at each other in confusion. The bank just opened half an hour ago.

"She is unable to leave at the moment, but I can take you to her. Follow me." The unknown goblin led them down long hallways, up two flights of stairs and down another long hallway. They were headed past the ritual rooms, toward the infirmary where they'd rested for a bit.

Upon realizing this, Narcissa gasped. "Is she alright? What happened?"

The goblin grunted and gestured at Griphook, who was standing next to the large double doors.

"Your sister is fine, Miss Black." He assured the blonde. "She was summoned back a while ago. The young Lord was having some difficulties after his rituals were complete, and was unable to properly recuperate while awake. His primary caregiver was summoned to help him settle. He's been sleeping soundly since she arrived."

Severus and Lucius were alarmed. "What difficulties?" Severus demanded. "Why was Bella summoned over us? We're his parents! You should have contacted us, not her!"

They winced at the outburst. None of them had ever heard him whine like that.

"Were it a conscious decision, Lord Prince-Malfoy, or indeed a goblin decision, we would have." Griphook growled.

Lucius clapped his hand over Sev's mouth to cut off his doubtlessly scathing remark. "Could you please explain your meaning, sir?"

He led them to another room for privacy. "It appears that Harrison subconsciously called her here in the middle of the night. Her arrival, directly into the ritual room, mind you, was quite shocking to all parties. Yet again, he has astounded all with his abilities. She was quite understandably disoriented, apparently having been asleep at the time Harrison reached out. If she had had her wand, I believe she would have hexed someone."

They were floored at the revelation. Gringotts was one of the most heavily warded places in the world. Every branch, no matter the country or population, was more protected than even Ministry buildings. Not one of them had ever heard of anyone just apparating into even the lobby, let alone a goblin ritual space.

"But that's impossible!" Sirius breathed.

Griphook rolled his eyes. "In regards to my Lord, the word 'impossible' seems to have little to no meaning."

Severus smiled lightly, but was still hurt that it was not he who was summoned, but Bella. "Have you any idea why he called anyone here?"

"Nothing more than assumption," Griphook replied. He scoffed when they stared at him expectantly. "Based on what little I was able to observe, Harrison was unable to fall into a restorative rest, despite the potions he was given. He was restless and speaking in his sleep. Most of it was unintelligible, but I did hear him say some things. I'll not embarrass him by doling out specifics, but he was calling for affection. As his Gemini bond has yet to be completed, it is my belief that he subconsciously summoned the person most likely to give him said affection without question or hesitation. Someone with whom he was least likely to feel uncomfortable. Had his bonding been complete, I assume his Gemini would have been brought. I am convinced that he is not even aware of her presence."

"Power notwithstanding, Sev," Remus began, giving the hurt potions master's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Given his history, I doubt male affection would have been welcome. It has nothing to do with you, or Bella, or any of us. If Lily were here, he'd have probably sent for her."

"Spare me," Severus sighed. He knew Remus was probably right, but that did nothing for the sting.

Lucius wrapped his arms around his husband. "Can we see him, Griphook? We won't wake them."

A small portion of the ritual room had been turned into an infirmary again, but this time, only a dozen or so goblins were occupying the beds.

Bella was at the back of the room, curled loosely around Harrison. She was humming softly, carding her fingers through his hair.

As the group drew closer, Bella glared, gesturing for quiet. If they woke her godson, they would find out how crazy she could be without the compulsions.

When she'd been pulled from her bed about five hours ago, she was ready to strangle someone. It didn't even dawn on her to draw her wand until later, but it was on her nightstand at home. No one knew how she got there, but she went straight to Harrison, sensing his distressed sleeping, and snuggled up to the broken little boy.

The effect was instantaneous. He had gripped her nightgown and tucked his head under her chin, and hadn't moved in hours. At around five or six, she had gotten up to find the loo, but in the couple of minutes she was gone, Harrison had half woken, his magic lashing out at anything within five meters. Two beds had been upended, the window above his bed had splintered, and he was panting and sweating, tugging at his bedclothes.

She hadn't moved since.

When the sun rose, at least enough to see by, she nearly woke him by screeching. It hadn't been intentional, but even after seeing the few pages of his medical history, she had not been prepared to see the little boy. Griphook told her that the strain on his magic was too much to support his constant glamours, and the moment the chanting began, they had fallen. She hadn't expected the result.

The group of standing humans all gasped, finally having drawn close enough to see the pair.

Severus was clenching his fists, causing Lucius to wince as it was his arm the potions master was crushing. "What is this?" He demanded quietly, looking at his son's scarred face.

"Completely healed." Griphook said. "The young Lord's glamours failed during the rituals. It was anticipated, but no additional harm has come to him. This particular scar is roughly six months old."

"Has..." Sirius choked on his words. "Has he been blinded?"

"Very nearly," Griphook replied. "But it has since been remedied. He is healthier now than he has ever been, in my opinion."

Remus' brow knit. "But his voice...? Can that not be fixed?"

The goblin scowled. "Goblin magic and wizard magic are not the same, Mr. Lupin. Goblin magic does not cover superficial healing. While proud, the goblins as a whole are not concerned with scarring. It is a badge of honor to be scarred from battle, so our magic does nothing for it."

"So," Lucius began. "It may be possible for wizard magic to heal him. Why has he not attempted to seek out a healer in the six months he has been unable to speak?"

"It's a better excuse to avoid the headmaster than anything I could think of. Besides, I don't care." Came a soft hiss from the bed.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, please don't hold me to this, but I'm going to try to get a new chapter out each Thursday. I need some kind of schedule for this, but if I have to delay for a short while to accommodate my muses, then so be it... just don't shoot me XD

Chapter 17

Chapter Notes

I'm going to apologize in advance for any wonky ass editing in the 'files' section. I don't know what the hell happened, but it's being a weeny and it won't let me adjust it properly. Also, sorry for how late this is, but it's still just before midnight, so it's still Thursday! I promise! (Dinner with my grandma and dad ran late, so blame my almost tardiness on them! Kidding!)
A/N there is a semi-panic attack in this chapter. I know it's done in a strange way, and I don't want anyone to get upset or offended or whatnot. The only reason I felt okay with doing this is because I spoke with a friend that suffers from panic attacks, and she informed me that this type was more what she dealt with. They can be different for everyone, so please don't tell me why it's wrong. Thanks! :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Perhaps you should reactivate your pendant," Griphook snorted. "Unless you prefer to only speak with goblins."

Harrison grunted, eventually opening his eyes, and waving a hand lazily over the snake pendant. He repeated himself and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. When his elbow connected with something soft but solid, he startled. "What are you doing in my bed?" He asked his godmother, practically leaping to his feet, bewildered. He shook his head to dispel the wave of dizziness and pinched the bridge of his nose.

She smirked at him, but there was a kindness in her eyes that seemed strange to him, despite never having met the woman before yesterday. "You tell me. I was sleeping, and the next thing I know, poof, I'm here." It took everything she had not to react to his scarred eye that was completely black, rather than green. She hadn't noticed it before, as he was sleeping, but now that he was awake, it was certainly jarring.

Facing his strange family, he finally looked at them. "Why are you all here so early?" He glanced out the window his back was to, figuring it must be around eight or nine.

Half a dozen hisses/gasps were heard, though the hissing was not words. Someone, he could not tell who, added a pained whimper.

With a furrowed brow, he turned back around. They were all staring at him.

"What?" He asked, both wary and slightly irritated.

Severus and Lucius watched him with silent tears in their eyes.

"Pup?" Sirius whimpered. He too was about to cry.

"What?!" He demanded, losing impatience rather quickly. "For Salazar's sake, what is it?"

"Harry," Remus began, but a warning glare from Harrison had him cowed. "Harrison, your back. What happened?"

Back from- Oh! "Merlin, is that what's got you all worked up?" He snorted in amusement, though he was far from amused. "That's old news. Besides, it looks better than it did before this past summer. Believe it or not, I prefer it this way." That was certainly true. The lash wounds had covered what Harrison considered his greatest shame. It was better this way, even if he did still hide it. There was nothing to do except play it off. "All that means, is that I can't get any tattoos on my back. It's a shame really. I had my eye on one that was too big to put anywhere else. Oh well. Griphook, can I go now? This lot won't stop staring and I'd hate to have to hex them."

"Exactly what do you think is worse than flayed flesh?!" Bellatrix cried out, horrified. "Nothing in those papers said-"

Harrison's pierced eyebrow lifted. "Griphook? What papers?" He had an idea of what she was talking about, but desperately hoped he was wrong.

Griphook merely shrugged, nonplussed. "Your family has been shown a small portion of the paperwork regarding the strange events of your history, as advised by yourself, Harrison."

He groaned, knowing that he'd said 'everything' was to be shown. "Shot myself in the foot on that, didn't I?"

"You did," came the simple reply.

"You shot yourself?!" Sirius shouted.

"No! It's an expression! Now if you would kindly shut up so that you don't wake any of the goblins, that'd be great. They're a lot worse off than I am at the moment, and you shouting like a child is really inconsiderate." Harrison rolled his eyes.

Sirius looked around guiltily. Thankfully, those that were asleep remained that way.

"We should do this somewhere else. We've got a lot to discuss, today, don't we?" He sighed.

"Had your guests been expected, little Lord," Griphook began. "I would not have scheduled our business for this morning."

Harrison held up his hands in innocence. "I didn't know they were coming. Oh, I nearly forgot." A well worn knapsack appeared on the bed and he ignored the surprised sounds his guests made as he dug around. Pulling out his muggle clothes, he dressed. They'd been talking for a while now, and he had been only wearing his boxers, so he didn't feel the need to excuse himself as he tugged on his tightest black jeans. "Remus, are you doing anything today?"

"My only plans for the day were to see you. Why?"

"Oh, good." He smirked. "Because after we all leave here and have a nice long chat, you're going to be spending about four hours in a considerable amount of pain. I'd hate for that to interrupt any plans you had. You also shouldn't eat or drink anything today."

The wolf paled.

Harrison's smirk grew as he shook a phial of gruesome looking potion, holding it up to the light.

Severus, ever the Potions Master, was curious. "What is that? And why the restrictions?"

"I think the better question is why are you making Remmy plan ahead for several hours of pain? I thought I was the one that was spelled toward insanity!" Bella stated with a look of curiosity.

Still digging through his bag, Harrison huffed. "Dobby!"

When he didn't appear, Harrison rolled his eyes. "Stupid wards. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he vanished, only to reappear moments later with a second phial and a black leather jacket. There was no crack of apparition, but he had done it nonetheless.

"You'll be taking these, Remus. Both of them. The second will probably hurt more than the first, but I'm sure you'll be pleased."

Griphook held out his hand when Remus made no comment, or even movement. "So you've finished. Excellent. Would you like to go over the patent today?"

"Later," he said dismissively. "What did you want to go over today?"

"Would you prefer some privacy?" Griphook questioned, eyeing the strange family unit.

"Unless any nearby goblins are going to report to Dumbledouche or anyone else, then I'm fine. Besides, we both know how likely that is." Harrison replied easily.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Uh, pup? Are you sure about that?" He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Goblins can be pretty dodgy..."

Quick as a flash, Remus swatted the back of his head, and Harrison waved his hand once.

"Ow! Remmy, what was that for?" Sirius winced, rubbing the spot he'd been slapped.

The others gasped and hid their laughter. Remus just smirked. "Good one, Harrison."

"What are you-" Sirius finally looked down and yelped, covering his nudity. "WHY?"

"Probably not the best idea to insult goblins in goblin territory, Siri." Harrison rolled his eyes. Oh, right, eyes. He quickly recast his glamours. "Have fun."

He led the others toward the door.

Sirius frantically began tugging on the clothes that were in a neatly stacked pile on the foot of the nearest bed.

Harrison stopped and put up a silencing ward around him and his group. "Remmy, you might want to see this."

Naturally, they all turned.

Just as Sirius finished rehooking his cloak pin and smoothing down his robes, they vanished again, this time leaving a pleasant surprise behind. Every inch of his skin was turned into the same horrible floral pattern as Petunia's kitchen curtains, even down to the tiny ladybugs on the bright green leaves. The cheery yellow background was pure icing on the cake. He looked like he had a bad case of jaundice.

The group laughed uproariously and Harrison was glad for the silencing charm. "You know, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love magic."

By this point, Remus was laughing so hard that he was leaning on Harrison's shoulder, tears of mirth rolling down his face.

Sirius tried to dress himself again, knowing full well that none of their magic was going to work in this particular room.

That was it. Remus dropped to the floor, howling with laughter and Lucius and Bella weren't far behind.

The clothes disappeared again, but this time, his skin turned a frightening shade of neon green with the ugliest patches of brown and orange scales Harrison could think of. It didn't help that every bit of hair had vanished from his entire body and his eyes now resembled Dobby's.

Harrison held his finger up to his lips so his godfather would know not to wake the exhausted goblins.

With both hands covering his bits, he whined, sounding much like his animagus form. "Okay, I give! You're the Master Of The Universe, and and and... better than Superman and... Uh... would it be helpful to mention that I suck? Now will you fix this?"

No reply.

"Okay," Sirius said, desperately trying to figure out what to say to get his godson to undo this little prank. "Um... I bow down to the Great and Powerful Harrison? No?"

"How long do you think it'll take him to figure it out?" Harrison asked the group, with a look of indifferent amusement.

"What exactly does he have to do for you to fix this?" Severus asked, only half listening to his longtime friend's attempts to plead his case.

"Anyone want to guess?"

Blank stares.

Bella snorted. "Morons. Any four year old knows that if you insult someone, then you get punished and have to apologize. I don't even have children and I know that."

"Griphook, would you mind telling these lovely people what your mate figured out with my injuries when I came to see you in August? About the... delicate state of my internal injuries."

He thought for a moment, "Had Harrison received further damage, even in the slightest, to his repeatedly fractured and untreated ribs, the likelihood of him making it to September was nil. One poorly timed jostle in a crowd, and he'd have punctured a lung and died within minutes. In fact, when Harrison had collapsed in my office, that was exactly what had happened. The young lord's right lung had been pierced clean through and he was very near death."

"I owe these people," Harrison said simply. "And I'll not have them insulted. Griphook and Thortac wouldn't like me much if they insulted you. The only difference is, they're not stupidly buying into prejudice. Well, that and the fact that they invited me to be family. You lot already were, just didn't know it."

"Invited you?" Remus asked, wiping the last of the tears away. "What do you mean, Harrison?"

Griphook sighed. "He means he is a goblin now. Let's go."

"Alright," Harrison said in a business-like tone. "I understand that we're going over my finances and titles today, so how does it work? What do I need to do?"

For the hundredth time, Griphook was reminded easily of why he liked Harrison. "Similar to your inheritance, you simply need a few drops of blood. Four this time." He slid the young Lord a sheet of parchment. "Left index finger. Just along the top, please."

Nodding, Harrison nicked said finger and let exactly four drops of blood seep into the page and watched them slowly vanish.

Potter-Lordship (unclaimed)

--Properties (separate folders for full details)

Potter

-Potter Manor, London

-Whitshell Manor, London*

-Unnamed land, see file for location*

Gryffindor

-Godric's Den, Edinburgh

-Gryff Manor, Prague

-Godric's Hollow

Peverell

-Peverell Manor, Paris

-Peverell Cottage, Cambridge

--Vaults (separate folders for full details)

(Potter) 854- Property deed, 500,000 Galleons*

(Potter) 031- Magical artifacts, Potter Family Library, 2,978,197 Galleons, 54,923 Sickles, 83 Knuts

(Potter) 032- Heirlooms, various artifacts, 2 Portraits, 503,482,866 Galleons, 7,033, Sickles, 74,823 Knuts

(Gryffindor) 004- Magical Artifacts, 4 Portraits, 759,574,493 Galleons, 85,903 Sickles, 240 Knuts

(Peverell) 047- Magical Artifacts, 93,843 Galleons, 59,348 Sickles

--Titles (separate folders for full details)

Lord Potter (blood adoption)

Lord Peverell (blood adoption)

Lord Gryffindor (blood adoption)

--Various Assets (separate folders for full details)

(Potter)

-Twilfitt and Tattings (65%)

-SleekEasy Corporation (100%)

-Chudley Cannons (100%)

Gryffindor

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (25%)

Peverell

-Gobshank's Apothecary (35%)

Evans- Heir

--Properties* (separate folders for full details)

Evans

-Godric's Hollow

Hufflepuff

-Hufflepuff Manor, Dublin

-Hufflepuff Cottage, Cork

-Hufflepuff Hall, Nenagh

-Helga's Hideaway, Lisburn

--Vaults* (separate folders for full details)

(Evans) 948- Property deed, personal journals, potions equipment*

(Evans) 833- 23,439 Galleons, 44 Knuts

(Hufflepuff) 005- Magical Artifacts, 4 Portraits, 759,574,493 Galleons, 85,903 Sickles, 240 Knuts

--Titles* (separate folders for full details)

Lord Hufflepuff

--Various Assets* (separate folders for full details)

(Hufflepuff)

-Demeter's Shelter

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (25%)

Prince-no title (subject to change)

--Properties

N/A

--Vaults

N/A

--Titles

N/A

--Various Assets

N/A

Black-Heir (named)

--Properties* (separate folders for full details)

Black

-12 Grimmauld Place, London

-Black Manor, Zurich

-Black Chalet, Gothenburg

-589 Drawledge Lane, Leeds

-Black Family Island, unknown location

Parkinson* (separate folders for full details)

-Parkinson Hall,

-Parkinson Family Villa,

Umbridge* (separate folders for full details)

-Umbridge Manor

-3391 Krickley Road

--Vaults* (separate folders for full details)

(Black) 057- Black Family Library, Magical Artifacts, 11,000,000 Galleons, 50,000 Sickles, 75,000 Knuts

(Black) 058- Magical Artifacts, 8,659,275 Galleons, 857 Sickles, 974,593 Knuts

(Black) 059- 2,894,267 Galleons, 3,920 Sickles, 76 Knuts

(Black) 239- 573,485,490 Galleons, 289 Sickles, 938,482 Knuts

(Parkinson)* 102- Parkinson Family Library, Magical Artifacts, 1,458,503 Galleons, 843 Sickles, 12 Knuts

(Umbridge)* 753-Umbridge Family Library, 35,592 Galleons, 769 Sickles, 8,902 Knuts

--Titles* (separate folders for full details)

Heir Black

Lord Parkinson*

Lord Umbridge*

--Various Assets* (separate folders for full details)

Black

-Knockturn Alley (100%)

-Hollyhead Harpies (100%)

-Quality Quidditch Supplies (85%)

-Shrishville Square (100%)

-Parkinson

-Melbright Mythical Serpent Sanctuary (100%)

Gaunt-Lord (conquest) (unclaimed)

--Properties (separate folders for full details)

-Gaunt shack

-48 Lanson Road

-9034 Millerin Lane

Slytherin

-Castle

-Manor

-Sala Island

Ravenclaw

-Manor

-Library

-Raven's Nest

--Vaults (separate folders for full details)

(Slytherin) 002- Magical Artifacts, 4 Portraits, 759,574,493 Galleons, 85,903 Sickles, 240 Knuts

(Ravenclaw) 003- Magical Artifacts, 4 Portraits, 759,574,493 Galleons, 85,903 Sickles, 240 Knuts

(Gaunt) 139- Gaunt Family Library, 36 Galleons, 254 Knuts

--Titles (separate folders for full details)

Lord Gaunt

Lord Slytherin

Lord Ravenclaw

--Various Assets (separate folders for full details)

Ravenclaw/Slytherin

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (50%)

Gaunt

-Malfoy (Lucius)

-Snape (Severus)

-Parkinson (Victus, Regina, Prentis)

-Crabbe (Alphonse)

-Goyle (Karena, Richard)

-Dolohov (Persephone, Augustus)

-Umbridge (Delores, Samuel)

-Lestrange (Bellatrix, Rudolphus, Rabastian)

-Zabini (Cellesta)

-Warrington (Cassius, Endria)

-Krum (Pyotr, Viktor)

-Marsten (Zayne, Quinn)

-Scrimgeour (Rufus)

-Shacklebolt (Kent, Opal)

-Moody (Alastor)

-Black (Regulus)

-MacNair (Merideth, Brouno, Amarelle, Eduard)

-Karkaroff (Igor)

-Fudge (Cornelius, Lucinda, Augine)

-Bullstrode (Heather, Johann)

-Flagshif (Ernest)

-Nott (Quentin, Arabella)

Harrison was stunned. There was no other way to describe it. Sure, there might have been words, but in that moment, he couldn't remember a single one of them.

Having stood for the entire process, he sank to his knees and sat on his heels. This information is unbelievable. By his quick calculation, he had more than 4 billion Galleons alone. There were also TWO MORE full pages of names. What?

Suddenly, something was touching him. Lots of somethings. Ice shot down his spine. He didn't like it. Don't touch me. Don't touch me. His breathing quickened as his hands continued to tremble. When did that start? Oh, fuck. No. Not in front of everyone. He couldn't breathe. So dizzy. Stop. It's fine. Open your eyes! Move! Look up! Fucking do something! Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, he hunched forward. Don't touch. Get off. Don't touch. Don't touch! Why wasn't someone helping? No one helps. No one cares. Something keeps touching. No more please! Tired. So many noises. Still touching. Please stop touching.

Wait. What's that smell? What? Smelling means breathing. But I'm not breathing. But how else can I smell? I must be breathing. Th- the touches. They were gone. They're gone!

"It's okay," came a gentle voice.

He knew that voice.

"We made them leave." Another voice. Different, but he knew that one too.

"You're safe now."

He was, wasn't he? The voices were so kind. They were good. Safe. Warm. He liked those feelings.

"That's it. Whenever you're ready, love. We're here."

"If you don't want to open your eyes yet, that's okay. Could you help me?"

The voice needs his help? Why? He didn't want the voice to hurt too. He'll help.

"Could you take my hand so I can be safe too?"

Could he? If it meant the voice being safe, he had to.

Still shaking, Harrison forced one of his hands to unclench. He didn't know which one. Would the voice notice that his hand unclenched? He forced his hand flat.

There was a hand in his. So warm. Nice. Safe.

"Me too?"

The other one needed help too? Could he help someone else? He had to. The voices had to be okay. They had to. The other hand finally flattened out. More warmth. There. Now they were all safe.

"Do you want to open your eyes?"

No. No, please. Let me stay in the dark with the voices. They're so nice. Please don't make them go. If-

"You don't have to, love. We can stay in the dark until you're ready. Until it's safe."

One of the hands was brushing over his knuckles. Feels so nice. So caring.

"Can we hug you?"

He stiffened.

"We could never hurt you, love."

"Our own hearts would break at the thought of hurting you."

He leaned slightly to the left, tugging the hand on his right to do the same. Slowly, carefully, he felt the warmth spread until he was completely encompassed in the sweetest cocoon. "Can I keep you?" He whispered, afraid of the answer.

"Of course you can, love."

"We're not going anywhere."

Soft yellow light. Harrison could see the gray stone flooring not far from his face, but he could see and feel the yellow light. He didn't want to let go of the voices, but he did want to uncurl and find out where that light was coming from.

The light vanished, and he was able to take in his surroundings. The voices belonged to his twins.

"I'm sorry. I-I'm not... I'm not entirely sure what happened." He finally said, still holding on to them. "How did you...?"

"How did we know something was wrong, or how did we get here?" George asked lightly.

"Both, I suppose." He sat upright, instinctively snuggling into Fred and taking both of George's hands.

"Well, Freddie knew something was up before I did. We were flying in the garden, and out of nowhere he just landed, saying that something wasn't right. Then, about two minutes later, I just felt this... I dunno, surge of panic, I guess you could say." George was rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Harrison's hands.

Freddie hummed in agreement. "As for how we got here, I have no idea. Like Georgie said, we were in the garden, then... tada! Here we are. Look," he shifted slightly to point toward the door.

There were two Cleansweep brooms lying on the floor.

"Where is everyone?" Harrison asked, turning red. He had a fucking breakdown in front of all of them. And for what? Because someone touched him? What was he, two? He humiliated himself in a room full of people. Fan-bloody-tastic.

"Georgie kicked them out," Fred said with a hint of amusement, dragging his fingernails along Harrison's scalp.

Harrison sighed in contentment, leaning in to the touch.

"Speaking of which..." George began ominously. He stood with a smirk, then headed out the door.

Chapter End Notes

All of the addresses are made up (at least as far as location to the few known properties) I did not have the energy to look into exactly where they were, so don't shoot! *holds up white flag of surrender*

Chapter 18

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Freddie, what-"

"Don't worry, love. He'll be back. I think he just-"

"First one to raise their voice will find out how light this Weasley really is."

Fred and Harrison looked at each other in confusion. Why on Earth did it sound like George was talking from the floor?

"Oh!" Fred snorted, tugging something out of his pocket. It was an ear.

"I beg your pardon?" Remus' voice asked.

The voices were coming from the ear. "What the hell? When did you modify the Extendable Ears?"

"You heard me." George said, sounding quite dangerous. "We are going to have a nice little chat, and you bloody idiots are going to tell me exactly what the fuck you were thinking."

Harrison's jaw dropped. Why was George's authoritative attitude having such a pleasant effect on his body? While he was wrapped in Freddie's arms?! The whole situation was confusing to say the least.

"Which one of you fucking morons figured touching someone without their consent was a good idea?" There was a pause. "Don't misunderstand my fun-loving nature. I know more questionable magic than any of you would believe."

"No one was trying to be inappropriate with him, you lit-"

"It doesn't matter what you were trying to do, Malfoy! That's not how trauma works!" George never raised his voice, but the threat of danger was certainly there.

Groaning, only a tiny part of which being arousal, he climbed to his feet. "Why did he have to say that?"

"Show of hands, how many of you knew that he has been having panic attacks?" Pause.

"Can we just obliviate them all? Then us?"

Fred laughed, also getting off the floor. "Probably could, but we won't."

"Georgie, stop." Harrison said calmly, as he walked into the hallway. "It's fine. It's no one's fault but mine."

The redhead was pissed, brandishing his wand at the five adults, who were all bound to chairs. "What? Harry, how is this your fault? You didn't do anything wrong!"

"Yes, I did." He replied. "I don't generally make a habit of telling people my weaknesses. And that's one of them. Besides, whoever grabbed me was probably trying to figure out why I sat on the floor. And, George? They know who I am, so don't call me Harry here, okay?"

The adults were trying to speak, but no noise came out.

"Uh, pup?" Sirius was walking down the hall, fully dressed, looking like himself. His hair was back too. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Siri. Bit of a misunderstanding." Harrison shrugged. "Did it really take you that long to realize you just had to apologize?"

Clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment, Sirius crossed his arms. "So... that magical flare a few minutes ago was...?"

He looked around, confused. "What flare?"

The twins shook their heads, also at a loss. The adults, however, were still trying to talk.

Waving his hand, Harrison removed the bindings and blocks on their voices.

Before they could all start talking at once, which was exactly what it seemed they would do, Harrison cut them off. "First off, I apologize. I didn't realize that would happen. Usually, I'm more prepared than that, and I wasn't thinking. Second, I think we should resume the group meeting somewhere else. Perhaps this weekend, so that I can finish my business here, and you lot can get a bit better acquainted, or reacquainted. We can talk things over better when we all have some free time. Unfortunately, this is neither the time nor the place."

None of the adults were going to agree.

"Absolutely not!" "What about Yule?!" "No!" "We've lost the last fifteen years with you!"

That last one stung. "You think I enjoyed that time any more than you?" He glared at Lucius. "You might not have had everything you wanted, but what you had was a hell of a lot more than most. The lot of you have a history together. Figure out what you all need to do, now that you've been cleansed. Figure out your lives first. Bellatrix, you're an escaped convict. You, Lucius and Severus are marked Death Eaters. Sirius, you've been living in a hovel of a manor because until yesterday morning, you were an escaped convict too. Narcissa and Lucius, you have a child that you've not seen in months, but chose to ignore so far during what's supposed to be a family holiday, just to see me. That's not right. For now, you all need to have a long discussion. Remus, go check out Whitshell and take those potions. I've written down the instructions. Sirius is going to help you with the second one because you won't be in your right mind well enough to follow along. You know, I might only be fifteen, but legally I am an adult. Quite frankly, I don't think that I should be the only person here that can act like one."

"They must think Gringotts needs an aquarium, eh Freddie?" George joked.

"Too right, Georgie. Excellent fish impressions." Fred supplied. "Now, Harrison. Would you like us to stay?"

"If not, could you send us back? Either way, we don't mind."

Harrison thought for a moment. "I'm not completely sure how to send you back, because I didn't consciously summon you in the first place. I think there's a floo here though. Do you think you'd be able to escape for a while, later on tonight? We-"

"Legally emancipated adult or not, you are not seriously setting up a tryst in front of your family!" Severus gaped.

"No," he replied angrily. "I certainly was not! How dare you? If you must know, we've been working on how to oust Dumblefuck. Don't think for a second that you have the right to dictate how I spend my time. Parchment does not give you that right. But the one in my pocket gives me free reign to do anything I see fit to anyone who bears the Mark. I wasn't going to mention it, but now I think I will. The empire that Voldemort built? The one that your three were branded for? Yeah, maybe you should have gotten all the facts. Those are ownership brands. Guess who took over everything he had, by conquest? And guess what that entails..."

The Death Eaters paled dramatically.

Sirius slipped his arm through Harrison's. "Pup, don't you think that's taking things a bit far?" His tone wasn't accusatory, just... worried.

"Unfortunately, yes." He admitted freely. "Just please stop pushing this so hard. I do want to get to know you. All of you. But despite the fact that we have magic, we can't go from enemies to family instantly. I've known about this for months, and you've only had a day. How's Rudolphus taking having a sane wife? How's Draco, since he found out about all this? How is the family dynamic that you've all had for the past fifteen years going to change? Don't add more stress to the situation. It's delicate enough. I'm not what's important. Not a word, Siri. You all have too much to deal with. Let the shock wear off. This news can't come out yet, and we can't afford you to act like anything has changed outside your homes. Now, I have a lot of things to do, and not a lot of time to get them all done. I will see you sometime this weekend." He was still mad, but winding down.

"They're so exhausting." He said tiredly, leaning into George as the adults left. "They don't know themselves yet. Was I wrong to send them off like that?"

"No," Fred said determinedly. "Honestly, half of them were behaving like children."

George rubbed Harrison's shoulders. "Don't let them upset you, alright? When was the last time you slept?"

He groaned. "Does a magical exhaustion coma count?"

"Nope, sorry." They said in unison.

"Then you're out of luck, because I have no idea. I wasn't lying when I said I've been busy."

A throat clearing nearby startled the three of them.

Griphook was standing in an open doorway, waiting patiently.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry Griphook. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time. Should we reschedule?"

"Nevermind that, Harrison." He waved his hand distractedly. "I planned ahead when I saw your family here. My later appointments have been given to others. Not that it matters, as no one besides yourself and a few select others seem to be able to differentiate between any goblins. Not everyone has your standing and they know it. My co-workers have everything in hand. Now, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, if you'll join us."

"That okay with you, Harrison?" They asked.

He nodded. "I don't mind, but you should probably let your parents know you're alright. I did essentially kidnap you..."

"I'll take care of it." George smirked, shifting Harrison over to his twin. "I'll meet you in Master Griphook's office in a few minutes."

Three folders of varying thickness sat ominously on the large desk. The top folder was the smallest, only being about an inch thick. The second was triple that, and the last was twice that. There was also a stack of what looked like ring boxes and a small, bulging envelope.

Before Harrison could say anything, Griphook spoke. "We can wait for Mr. Weasley to return."

About three minutes later, George walked in with a tall narrow box with a bright red bow on it. He instructed Harrison to undo the gaudy bow.

When he did, the three of them laughed. Inside the box was an all too familiar carafe with a skull and crossbones painted crudely on the side. "Instead of calling your parents, you summoned Dobby for my coffee?"

"I did both, now drink up. You look like you're about to drop, and that sludge could wake a mere mortal from an enchanted sleep."

"Would you like some, Griphook?" He asked politely, transfiguring a bit of blank parchment into a large mug. "Fair warning, they think it's quite strong. I don't. But it has been recommended that I use it as a paint stripper."

The goblin summoned a tea service for the four of them, but accepted the coffee. "I never could resist the right brew."

Harrison smirked, adding a small amount of sugar to his drink.

"Now then," Griphook said, sounding pleased. "We can go over the familial branches of your inheritance first, which is to say, the personal effects, or we can go over the political aspects, or your rings. The choice is yours."

Feeling only slightly more alert, Harrison mulled it over. "The rings, I suppose." It seemed the least daunting. "It's only Lordships and heirships, right? All I have to do is put them on?"

"That is correct," Griphook agreed. "The Founder's Lordships will be first. Ravenclaw," he pushed a royal blue box forward. "Gryffindor," a crimson box. "And Slytherin." Finally, the green box. "Upon your mothers' return, and indeed, her decision, the Hufflepuff ring will be given, and when that happens, the four will merge. Never in History have the rings been united by a single person. As it stands, you are still only Heir to House Hufflepuff."

"Do I have to wear them all?" There were ten boxes total. Ten! He did not want to wear a ring on each of his fingers and thumbs.

"No, not permanently. For you to claim your Lordships, all you have to do is place them on your left middle finger, allow the bond to form, and the ring can then be removed."

He opened the first box. When he put the ring on, he was almost disappointed that nothing happened. He thought he would feel someth- "Holy shit." The ring started vibrating violently. A flash of blue, and the ring went silent. The Gryffindor ring did the same, but with a red flash. Slytherin with green. Those three rings left him with one hell of a headache.

"For the next-"

"Hang on, Griphook. Sorry." He said with his eyes closed, fishing around the knapsack blindly. The secret stash of potions that he carried at all times was eluding him. Opening his eyes would help, but it hurt too damn much. Instead, he summoned the hidden pouch and a strange feeling washed over him. It wasn't bad, he somehow knew, but it was odd. It was almost as if each phial carried an echo of its' use when his fingers brushed each of them. That was useful... Making quick work of the cork, he downed the correct potion without ever having seen it.

There was a sigh that mirrored his own on his left.

George was cracking his neck.

Fred and Harrison looked at him with a combination of confusion and concern.

"Harrison?" Griphook began curiously. "Have you had the time to research anything on your full blocks?"

"Some of it, why?" He asked, wondering what the goblin meant.

"In that case," he replied, taking another folder out of his desk. "I suggest we hold off on our business for a moment to go over one of the points made."

Now Harrison was really lost.

Seeing what Griphook was pointing to did nothing to quell his bewilderment.

Soulmate bond(s)?

"You don't really expect me to believe that soulmates are real, do you?" Harrison snorted. "That's just something that people use to sell books and film tickets."

"Actually, Harrison, that's not quite true." Fred cut in. "Soulmates are very real, and rare. Powerful witches and wizards have them. Their bonds are for life, and incredibly sacred."

George nodded in agreement. "You see, when someone is really powerful, they need someone to ground their magic. Not bind it or anything, but like a stabilizer."

"So, you're telling me that I'm so powerful that I need another person to keep from losing control of my magic? That's insane! Yeah, okay, I've got a fair bit of power, but I highly doubt-"

"'A fair bit' is hardly accurate, Harrison." Griphook rolled his eyes. "Think of it this way... the average witch or wizard has the magical strength comparable to that of a common house cat. To warrant a soulmate, the witch or wizard in question must possess strength comparable to a jungle cat. To warrant a Gemini bond, though... it is unable to fully comprehend, as it has only happened a few times in history. The last wizard that had successful Gemini soul bonds was Merlin himself."

Harrison took a steadying breath. "So, what exactly is the difference between a regular soulmate, and a Gemini soulmate? And what do I do about it?"

"The term Gemini, simply put, refers to magical twins. Ordinary twins are common enough, but magical twins are as rare as a Gemini soulbond for obvious reasons. The Gemini are born to families fated to meet, to ensure that the level of magic of their mate cannot be left ungrounded. The backlash of such an event would likely kill thousands."

Harrison froze, unable to fully comprehend what he was hearing. For some reason, his first question was the morality issue. "Twins are expected to be in a relationship... with each other? That doesn't bother anyone? I'm not going to lie, that thought bothers me. A lot." Fated or not, he wanted no part in an incestuous relationship. The ache in the back of his neck was back and it was strong.

"The Gemini are not involved with each other, but rather with their mate. They each have a separate purpose, as well as a joined one. One is linked to the physical safety of the mate, one is linked to the emotional wellbeing, and both are linked to the psychological. The mate, on the other hand, is linked to both through all three aspects."

Unseen by Harrison, Fred and George shared an astonished look.

"Oh, what the ever loving fuck?" Harrison groaned, dropping his head on the desk, narrowly missing the tea service. "Why can nothing ever be normal? Why am I always the exception to everything? I can't even have the normal version of an already abnormal bond!"

"It'll work out, Harrison. Don't worry." Two hands were on his back, one rubbing circles over each of his shoulder blades.

Harrison's eyes widened and he bolted upright, startled by his sudden realization. "Holy shit. It's you two." No wonder it didn't bother him when they touched him. Or the fact that anytime something was bothering him, one or both of them were showing up almost immediately. They nearly always sought him out when he was thinking about them. And they always knew how to calm him down or ease his fears or cheer him up. What the fuck!

His immediate and intense shock was replaced slowly with an overwhelming sense of relief. "This explains so fucking much. I've been going out of my bloody mind with the pair of you!"

"What do you mean, love?" Fred asked him with a faint smile.

"I mean I..." Harrison finally knew what he'd been feeling wasn't wrong, and that was fantastic, but at the same time, he felt kind of awkward about admitting that he'd been so confused and upset with himself for so long. He held his face in his hands to hide his embarrassment. "For the past few months... I've been kicking myself because... because the only time I stopped thinking about you is when those bastards keep dosing me with the fucking Amortentia. It made me sick to think that I couldn't bring myself to choose between you. At- at different times, I would feel a pull towards one or the other... And now, I just... How does this kind of thing even work?" Panic was niggling at him, and he tried to push it away to no avail.

"It just does, love. There doesn't need to be any explanation." Fred said soothingly, wrapping Harrison in a tight hug. "We've known for a while-"

"And Freddie and I have always shared everything anyways-"

Harrison lifted his brow.

"Okay, maybe not everything, but you know what we mean." George smirked. "And trust me, you have nothing to worry about on the incest front."

"Absolutely not," Fred agreed. "We might be strange, but not that crazy."

Griphook cleared his throat. "Because of the manner of your relationship, when you are bonded-"

Harrison choked on the reclaimed coffee mug. "Bonded?! As in Married?!" What the fuck! Soulmates, the idea of soulmates, was still baffling in itself, but bonding? They're completely insane! He hadn't even kissed either of them yet!

"Yes, bonded as in married." Griphook said in amusement. "As Mr. Weasley mentioned, soulmates are lifelong bonds. There will never be another for any of you. Now, as I was saying... Given the nature of your relationship, as a Lord of several Houses, and the Messrs' Weasley inability to claim the Lordship of the Weasley House, they will be given the title of Lord Consort to the two highest ranking Houses excluding the Founders Lordships and unclaimed Lordships at the time of union. Those Houses being Peverell and Potter. Typically, the older twin would receive the older family title, and the younger gets the newer. That being said, in order to lay claim to those titles, Messrs' Weasley, you would not be able to continue use of the name Weasley."

"Guess we'll need a new name for our shop, then, eh Freddie?" George joked.

"Too right, Georgie," Fred mused.

"How are you both so calm about this?! He's just told us that we're as good as married when we haven't even dated! I'm fifteen! You're seventeen! And-"

"All adults in the eyes of the law." Fred finished for him. "You forget, love. This isn't the muggle world. Besides, soulmate bonds are looked upon with the highest respect. Our bond is literally sacred and fated. Like with any relationships though, we'll have to figure it out as we go along."

"I think I need to be irrational about this for a bit." How did things get so complicated so fast? "Can- Can we just finish with the rings and call it a day? I'd like to come here, just once, and not either have a panic attack or spend most of my time here in a coma."

Stuck in his own thoughts, he missed the identical hurt expressions of the people who meant more to him than anyone else.

"Dobby!" Harrison called, shrugging off his cloak. "Pohy!"

"You rang?" Dobby said slowly in a low, deep voice.

Harrison snorted. "I never should have introduced you to the television."

Pohy snickered. "What can I do for you, Mas- Harrison?"

"A bath, please. Hot and with oils." He needed a long soak after the day he's had. "And Dobby, I'm expecting quite a few owls, but I don't want to deal with them now. Only allow owls from Gringotts or the twins. If they're from my family, then just attach a note saying I'll get in contact with them this weekend and let them be returned unopened."

Immediately, Pohy vanished, but Dobby didn't.

"That's not a good idea, Harrison." The Head elf said. "You shouldn't put them off."

He groaned. "I know, I know. I just need a day. One day where I don't have to do anything. No planning, no working, and no more fucking surprises. I'm so bloody tired."

"I still don't think it's a good idea, but it's up to you." Dobby sighed heavily. "I'll take care of it."

The wards flickered and Harrison knew there was an unidentified carrier owl.

He hadn't even been home for five minutes!

"There's the first owl. I'll be in the bath." Harrison walked away from his small friend, heading toward the sharp citrusy scent of his bath oils.

Chapter End Notes

Please feel free to give me some more rude/amusing things to call Dumbledore. Merlin knows I could use them... and maybe (hopefully) positive feedback. The comments so far have been inspiring me to continue and I love feeling the warm fuzzies of your encouragement. Thanks for keeping up with the story!

Chapter 19

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Some time later, Harrison was woken abruptly by a persistent knocking.

"What?" Harrison whined, wishing he could be left alone to sleep. "I swear to Merlin's grave that this had better be important or I'm hexing the bollocks whoever is at the bloody door!" He threw back his covers and stomped to the door, which he promptly wrenched open. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

"Nice, Potter." Draco scoffed, somehow wearing a familiar silver cuff on his right ear. Where did that come from? "I come all this way to see you and this is the warm greeting I get. Some brother you are."

"Oh, stuff it- wait, brother? You mean they told you?" Harrison blinked away the last of his fatigue. "Whatever, I'm not setting out a tea service until you tell me how you got past my wards."

Draco, as only Draco can, managed to saunter into Harrison's bedroom, where he'd never been, and drop onto the chaise as if he owned the place. "Well, that's just rude. The elf that used to work for my family, what was his name? Dippy? Anyway, he floo'd Mother because she's a Healer and the elf was worried about you."

Harrison stretched with a loud yawn. "Why? I'm fine."

At that, Draco laughed uproariously. "Are you kidding?! Have you looked at a calendar lately? It's the twenty-seventh!"

"So? Wait, no it's not. It's the twenty-fifth."

"And now you see the problem," came the sarcastic drawl.

"Dobby!"

Crack. "You're awake!" Dobby said, startled.

"Of course I am! Why did you floo them?"

"What else was I supposed to do, Harrison? You've been sleeping for two and a half days! I tried to wake you up a dozen times, along with the others. I had to do something."

"What the fuck is wrong with your elf, Potter?" Draco asked, bewildered. "What have you done to it?"

Harrison ignored the blond. "Has it really been two days?"

Rather than respond verbally, Dobby just rolled his eyes.

He sighed. "Fine, where is Narcissa, and why is Draco in my room?"

"You could just ask me, you know." Draco said in the background. "I mean, I am just sitting here."

"Miss Narcissa is in the sun room. She examined you and said you were just exhausted, then cast something that would help you wake up gently after about ten minutes. Oh, and he's here because he's impatient."

"Let's go, then." Harrison said, resigned.

As he led the odd group down the large main staircase, he had to stop twice to tug Draco along, who was intent on seeing some of the rooms that he'd passed on his way up.

"Good to see you awake, Harrison." Narcissa smiled warmly at him, pulling her attention from the glass walls and ceiling at the snowy tundra. "This house is gorgeous. You have excellent taste."

"Thank you," he replied. "I didn't want to wait for Yule break to find out that my inherited properties were out of commission or anything, so I had one of the goblins send me memory tours of a few houses, and I kind of stuck on this one. He got me a good deal as well. He talked with the seller and they agreed that if it was paid upfront, he'd take about ten thousand galleons off and leave some of the furniture. Just some things, none of the upholstered furniture."

She 'hmmed' for a minute. "It must get lonely here. It's a big beautiful house for just one person."

He lifted his brow, gracefully taking a seat on the love seat across from her. "Surely you can do better than that, Narcissa. And, here I thought Slytherins were prided on their subtlety."

"You'd have likely seen through it regardless." She shrugged.

Nodding thoughtfully, he crossed his ankles. "Dob-"

Before he could get the words out, Dobby appeared with a large tray of tea and biscuits as well as the carafe he was all too familiar with.

"Thanks, Dobby. Care to join us for a cup?"

The elf snickered at Draco's gobsmacked expression, naturally, taking a cup. After he served his Master and guests of course. He might be strange, but he was still a good house elf at the end of the day.

Giving the elf a surprised look, Narcissa quickly composed herself and tucked into her tea. "So, you said you'd get back to us over the weekend. It's Saturday."

"It is," he said calmly stirring his coffee. "And you just had to magically wake me from a two day sleep. Anyway, how have you been? It's a lot to take in. Merlin knows when I found out, I was a wreck."

"Along with being magically crippled and half dead, if I heard correctly." She took another sip. "And completely alone at the time. I'm sure that didn't help matters. Well, I'm fine, for the most part. You know, for thinking I was married for fifteen years, I don't feel that much different. Lighter, perhaps. Free. Angry."

"What do you mean, half dead?" Draco asked.

She just had to add that part, didn't she? "Doesn't matter."

"Of course it bloody well matters!" He cried out. "How is it you keep managing to get yourself into so many life threatening situations and walk away like that? What did you do this time?"

Far from impressed, Harrison leaned back in his seat. "I'm not entirely sure how to answer that."

He snorted. "Of course not. It was a very difficult question, after all."

"Well, according to the medical reports, most of my accumulated injuries hadn't healed and were killing me slowly. I assume you want details? My injuries started on the last day of school. As for who I pissed off, as you so eloquently put it, my surrogate mothers' adopted family. Not overly fond of magic, that lot. As for what I did... Oh, now that's another matter entirely! I had the nerve to be on the platform on time. It was horribly inconsiderate of me, I know. I hadn't even gotten into the house yet before my so-called uncle decided to slam my hand in the car door. Ten minutes later, I was pushed down the stairs for trying to wash the blood off my hand because two bones had broken through my skin. They said that freaks don't get to waste water, because they don't deserve it in the first place unless they're being drowned in it. A couple of hours later, I was smashed into a wall because I had the audacity to let my owl out the window. That was when a clock came off said wall and half blinded me. Which was at the same time that I was being strangled and it caused permanent damage to my vocal cords, which is why I use Parseltongue. When I was bleeding on the floor, I got a few kicks. Merlin knows, I should have been more considerate where I bled! Now, I'll stop there, because that's where things start getting violent. How did you spend your first day of the summer holidays, Draco?"

At first, Draco said nothing... then he laughed. "Who knew you had a sense of humor, Potter? You really had me going for a minute! Bit dark for my taste, but-"

"Draco!" Narcissa hissed. "That's enough!"

When Harrison looked at her, he was flooded with guilt. Her eyes were red, but she never let on that she was crying. "Narcissa, I apologize. You didn't need to hear that." Damn, he needed to get his temper under control. "That was my fault. I shouldn't have said anything."

She took a slow breath. "I don't want you to feel pressured with all of us, but every one of us really would like to get to know you. We have all lost so much time, and we weren't trying to push you, but we do want to start to make up for all that we've missed. Don't we all deserve that? Including you?"

He was so close to telling her that no, he didn't deserve it, but he forced the thought aside. "Why don't I come by tomorrow? Perhaps after dinner. I've apparently lost two full days, and I'm behind on a lot of work." There really was too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. Gringotts alone was going to take a few more days, and there was less than a week before he had to put his plans there into action. He was also going to have to make an appearance at the Ministry. They would be open on Monday, but with shortened hours, so there was no wiggle room on that note. At least Gringotts was open twenty-four/seven, as they didn't observe human holidays. He had to have a sit down with Lucius, but that wouldn't happen until after this whole get-together and they were able to feel like they had some kind of closure or something. Then there was Skeeter. Oh, he hated that woman with a passion, but if there was ever a need for sensationalism, this was it, and Skeeter was the best. Unfortunately. Of course, he was still able to blackmail her, so at least he wouldn't be completely unprepared to deal with her horrid attitude and slanderous ways. On top of that, he had to go over all of the damage that Dumbledore caused using Harrison's stolen seats on the Wizengamot over the past fourteen years. When that news broke, every single decision that was affected by the Headmaster would have to be repealed and resubmitted by the appropriate seat holders. Nearly a decade and a half of laws, trials and general proceedings that were about to be voided. Yeah, Harrison was pretty fucking busy. On top of that, he also had to figure out this whole Voldemort nonsense. Fun, fun, fun.

Why would no one let him explain this? It wasn't as if he were ignoring them to be petty or spiteful. The broken family was not any of their fault, but in this instance, it couldn't take over everything. There were too many things that he could fix, so many wrongs that he alone would be able to right. When all of that winds down, then he'll have time to look out for himself. Just this once, he wanted to do the right thing because everything that has become so screwed up was, in some sick way, his fault. He didn't enjoy it, and it certainly wasn't fun. One psychotic bastard did a lot of damage by destroying a couple of people, thus giving himself the ability and opportunity to manipulate millions.

"That would be lovely," Narcissa smiled. "And it would mean a lot to your f- to Lucius and Severus."

Ouch. There was that Slytherin side.

Draco scoffed. "You might as well just call them his fathers. After all, he's had more time to come to terms with all this than any of us has, so he should be used to the idea by now."

Rolling his eyes, Harrison glared at him. "You know something, brother? She was perfectly right to stop herself, and for that I'm grateful. Yes, biologically, Severus is my father. I carry none of Lucius' genes. No, that's not his fault, and I know this. Just like I know that Severus was a father figure to you for your entire life. But think about it. Before this term, how well did I know either of them? Lucius was the man that tried to kill someone I considered a friend, resurrected a dark lord, and decided that muggle brawling with my unofficial father was a good idea, and let's not forget, tried to cast the bloody killing curse on me in my second year. Yes, he was under compulsions, but that's really all I know about him. And, until I have time to sort out what I know from what's true, he can't be my father. Now, take Severus. That man, while also under compulsions, has spent the last four and a half years making my academic career difficult. Singling me out, harrassing me unfairly. Sure, sometimes I fought back, but mostly not. Do you remember our first ever potions class? I hadn't even said a word to him by that point, and yet he decided to take time away from class to try and make me look like an incompetent prat when all I was doing was taking notes. He was asking me for information on a form of magic, that until a few weeks prior, I hadn't even known existed. Later, I found out that the questions he was asking were from the third year texts. Neither of them were in their right minds, which I have accepted, but that doesn't automatically erase years of bad blood between us. How easily did you accept all this information?"

"With the grace of a Malfoy, of course." Draco replied pompously.

"And what you just said is proof that you haven't fully adapted yet either. You're not just a Malfoy, but Prince-Malfoy. Besides, now that Lucius and Narcissa are free of their compulsions, you don't even know what it means to be just a Malfoy. You were brought up under the guise of a stereotyped pureblood image. Your father obviously didn't feel that way, otherwise he and Severus would have never married. You do realize that he's a half-blood, yes? And that their wife was thought to be a muggleborn? She's not, but that wasn't known by any of them."

Draco was gaping. It was clear that he was trying to speak, the way his mouth kept opening and closing, but nothing came out.

"That is certainly true enough," Narcissa said politely, standing. "We'll see you tomorrow then. Would six o'clock be acceptable?"

"I'll make sure he's there, Miss Narcissa." Dobby said before Harrison could object.

Harrison figured it would be later, as he'd said after dinner, but apparently he had little say in the matter. "Six it is, then. Thank you, Dobby."

"Wait, Dobby as in my old elf?" Narcissa asked confusedly. "He looks so different."

"Yes, he used to work for you. He is now Dobby, Head elf to the Founders' Heir." Harrison supplied easily. "He looks different because of connecting to my magic, and behaves differently because I asked him to stop playing into the vanity and ego of witches and wizards. A long time ago, witches and wizards decided that since they were servants, that they didn't deserve to be treated with anything close to respect, so they were ordered to behave the way they do now. All four of my elves have been asked, not demanded, to speak freely and properly. They can. They've just been bred not to. Do me a favor, ask your elves about their history. They'll tell you about it."

She smiled lightly. "I just might do that. Thank you, Harrison."

"If I may, Miss?" Dobby asked. When she nodded, he continued. "They will be happier for it, and be better suited to meet the needs of their Masters. I never knew this, but when there is a mutual respect between Masters and elves, we are more closely connected. It's almost like we're able to anticipate the needs of our Masters. Of course, with practice and routine over many years, elves are able to do that on a smaller scale, but with this type of connection, that isn't mandatory to know what is needed."

"Why don't you come with Harrison tomorrow evening?" She suggested. "That way you can assist me. It might be easier that way, given that you already know them."

Dobby hesitated.

"It's alright, Dobby. I understand. " Harrison said. "That might not be the best idea, Narcissa. I know that you've all changed, but Dobby was horribly mistreated and abused in that house for a long time and-"

"Oh!" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Yes, of course! In that case, on behalf of my family, I want to apologize. I am terribly sorry for what we put you through. I suppose we're in for a much longer talk with our elves. Honestly, I never even considered that, with all of the changes going on."

"So does this mean that you're going to join Granger's inane Spew nonsense?" Draco asked disdainfully.

"You really think I want to be a part of the extinction of house elves?" Harrison snorted. "Have you lost your bloody mind? Granger is one of the stupidest smart people I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Truth be told, she's not half as intelligent as she boasts. So, no, I won't be joining her genocidal cause." With that, he escorted his 'guests' to the floo.

He spent the rest of the day in his office going over the correspondence he'd been unable to deal with over the last two days.

--

At exactly five fifty-eight the next day, Harrison found himself being guided through a darkly decorated, yet beautiful, foyer by a dazed elf.

"The Master be through there, young Master." The elf said, bowing next to a tall set of double doors.

He nodded and gave the elf a small smile. It would do no good to speak, as she had no cuff. He wasn't about to use one on someone else's elf, who he would rarely see.

"Harrison!" Came the happy calls of several of the adults seated around an intimately sized table, which naturally meant twelve seats.

Merlin, what is this, some kind of surprise party mixed with a board meeting?

"Hello everyone," he said, taking the seat next to Remus. Thankfully, the seat on his other side was vacant.

"How are you, pup?" Remus asked. "Cissa told us what happened yesterday."

"Speaking of," Sirius piped in. "Should you be out of bed?"

"I'm fine," he promised. "Trust me, I've gotten more sleep since the start of break than I have for the last month and a half collectively."

Some of them exchanged worried glances.

"Whatever it is that you're thinking, don't. I've had insomnia for years, and the only reason it crashed down on me is because of the rituals. It's fine. Scouts honor."

Remus snorted at that, but the others didn't get it. "I'll explain later."

"Okay, I know I'm the one that made your potions, but I have to know, how are you feeling?" Harrison asked his godfather and for a moment, he was sure he was going blind if the brilliant smile that was being thrown his way, was any indication.

When the smile faltered, Harrison was concerned. "What is it? Are you having side effects? There shouldn't really be any besides fatigue-"

"Oh! No, no! That's not it..." Remus quickly reassured him. "I... I just wanted to... hug you. If that's alright."

He sighed, flooded with embarrassment. "That's going to need to be addressed, isn't it?"He hugged the ex-werewolf tightly. "Alright, look. I'm not touch-phobic or anything. I just need some kind of warning, like... being able to see you? That's all, really. I overreacted at the bank, and I'm sorry."

Lucius scoffed. "As did one of your redheads."

"Well, how would you feel if someone you cared about was having a panic attack, surrounded by people you thought were a bunch of psychotic lunatics?!" Harrison clamped his mouth shut, his cheeks flushing. "I hadn't told either of them who you all were yet. Now, can we get back to the potions, please? The full moon was yesterday."

There were beaming smiles all around.

"He didn't change!" Came a delighted shout from the doors Harrison had been ushered through.

Bellatrix walked in, or rather bounced in, and happily took the only remaining empty seat, right next to her godson. "Hi!" She exclaimed, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Nope!" Remus agreed. "For the first time in about thirty years, I was able to look at a full moon and keep my humanity, and not be in agonizing pain. Harrison, I'll never be able to thank you enough for this."

"Now, don't get sappy on me, Rem." he joked. "Have you tried shifting yet?"

At this, Remus looked ashamed. "No, I haven't."

Before he could get upset, Harrison thought about it. "Moony will never take over you again. He can't. I've essentially killed him. He's gone, Remus."

Taking a slow breath, Remus slid out of his seat and stood away from the table. "I suppose I need animagus lessons. Siri, how do I shift?"

"Since you've already got the ability, which is the hardest part, all you have to do is focus on your body changing." Harrison was quick to explain. "You should transform into a regular wolf, but don't concentrate on that. Just the change. Feel yourself shifting painlessly into something else. Unlike transfiguration, don't worry about the end result. That's already been mapped out for you. Feel the shift and let go."

There were a couple of raised eyebrows, but no one said anything.

Remus nodded with determination and closed his eyes. For the next few seconds, nothing happened. It wasn't until Sirius went to speak that there was a flash of pure white light and a quiet pop.

In his place, there was a lion. A huge fucking lion.

There was a collective gasp and every human jaw in the room was dropped, bar Harrison, who was grinning madly.

"Yes!" Harrison said enthusiastically, quickly making his way toward his newly transformed godfather to pet the soft fur. "I knew you could do it! There are, of course, two unforeseen downsides to this."

Another flash of light. Remus looked alarmed. "What? What's happened?"

Harrison just smiled. "First, I think we'll have to make a trip to the Ministry. It'll be a lot of paperwork to get you off of the Werewolf Registry."

A full three seconds passed in total silence before everyone burst out laughing.

"Oh, nothing in this world will ever make me look forward to writer's cramp than this, I promise you." Remus said, swinging his godson around like a child. "Wait, what's the other downside?"

"Well, if you'll put me down," he said lightly, rolling his eyes. Back on his feet, Harrison continued. "I hope you're not too attached to the name Moony, because I don't think it applies anymore."

The usually stoic man was crying now. "How can I ever thank you for this?"

Harrison tapped his chin contemplatively. "Well, how about your firstborn-"

He cut himself short laughing. Severus and Remus cracked up too. The rest were appalled.

"I understand that this is no small matter, Harrison, but surely we can work something else out!" Lucius cried out.

The laughter stopped. "You don't seriously think... Merlin, it was a joke!"

"Luce," Severus took his husband's hand. "It's quite common in muggle fairy tales for someone to either offer the life of their firstborn for something, or to have been coerced into agreeing to give it away. He really didn't mean anything by it."

"Are all muggles mad?" Bellatrix half shouted. "These are stories for children?! About selling children?! That is outrageous!"

"Not quite," Harrison replied. "Muggle fairy tales were created, for the most part, for the purpose of morals. Usually, if there are bargains, the morals are along the lines of greed. A lot of the originals are rather dark, but most of them have been rewritten so that the characters have happy endings and whatnot."

"How does that make it any better?" Draco chimed in. "The damage would have already been done to the parents and grandparents! Children aren't to be bartered for!"

At that, Harrison gaped. The ice prince was standing up for the rights of muggle children? What is happening? "Remmy, have we stepped into the Twilight Zone? Nevermind, don't answer that. I have to stop using muggle references." He reclaimed his seat. "Now is probably a good time to change topics. Any suggestions?" He asked everyone at the table.

"Yes, actually," Draco smirked. "Since my Head of House is also my father, does this mean that you'll suggest me as the new Slytherin quidditch captain for my sixth year?"

"As it happens," Severus said kindly. "I was already planning on it."

"It'll be fine so long as this is kept quiet for the time being." Harrison interjected, gesturing the tables' occupants as a whole. "If anyone found out, it would be considered as nepotism, and Severus' position as the Head of Slytherin would be compromised. Besides, the final decision ultimately falls on the Headmaster."

"Well, there goes that idea." Draco scowled. "Dumbledore would never allow it, whether he knew about us or not."

Harrison rolled his eyes again. "Trust me, he won't be Headmaster for much longer. This will be his last year. I can promise you that much."

"What are your plans?" Lucius asked dangerously. "Whatever it is, can I help?"

"Well, I have several wheels in motion already, one of the most important of which is about to stun a lot of people. As for helping, I do have needs for a few... influential people, as well as sneaky. Any takers?"

All of the Slytherins smiled, but Bellatrix was the one to break the silence.

"This is all well and good, but we came here for a reason, and it wasn't to plot." She huffed. "I want the bastard gone as much as the rest of you, but plotting can wait."

With a furrowed brow, Harrison looked at her.

"We've all been given massive attitude adjustments, and you and Draco don't know any of us." She stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In truth, it kind of was. Or, it should have been.

Feeling only slightly stupid, Harrison agreed with a nod.

"That was made quite clear yesterday," Narcissa said. "Wasn't it, Draco?"

"That is hardly my fault!" He cried indignantly.

"Well then," Narcissa began. "I guess I'll go first, then we can work our way around the table."

After about forty-five minutes or so, they found out a lot about the ex-Lady. She had never gotten along very well with her mother, or her cousin Andromeda. She was very much musically inclined, playing the piano, violin, cello and the harp, along with having nine years of vocal lessons. Her favorite color, which she was currently wearing, was powder blue. At the age of six, she was betrothed to Quinn Marsten, but that fell through when he began seeing his current husband Zayne in his third year. Lily was her first muggleborn friend, as none of them knew about her true blood status. They would sneak off to what was now the Divination classroom, because no one else had figured out how to bring down the ladder, to talk about boys and general girly nonsense. She hated flying only because it would completely wreck her hair, but loved the free feeling she got while in the air. Her first bit of accidental magic was at the age of three, and she had broken a wall of windows because her father had tried to put her into a pink cloak that she did not like at all.

"With your complexion, that doesn't surprise me." Draco grinned.

"Statements like that make me question your sexuality." Harrison mocked.

"That's rich, coming from you, who is currently dating, not one, but two men!"

"I am not!"

"What do you mean, you're not dating them?" Sirius asked, looking surprisingly worried. "You have to be dating them!"

He eyed his godfather with confusion. "But I'm not. Why is this such a big deal to you?" He looked around to the other adults who seemed to be just as concerned. "If anything, shouldn't you be relieved?"

"NO!" They all shouted.

Harrison and Draco startled at the outburst, the former of which jerked back, causing his chair to scrape the marble flooring loudly.

"Pup," Remus said softly, a hint of a desperate whine in his tone. "This bond can't be taken lightly. It could kill you if you try to fight it. An outright refusal will kill the three of you, along with anyone within a ten mile radius."

"Oh, fuck."

"Indeed." Severus said gravely. "How long have you known about the bond? Acknowledged it, I mean."

"I only just found out about it when I was at Gringotts two days ago." He replied miserably.

"How is that possible?" Draco asked, astonished. "Shouldn't you have felt something the first time you met them?"

"The bond was one of the many things that had been bound." He explained lamely. "Apparently, the only reason I haven't died yet, along with everyone in a ten mile radius- thanks for that by the way, Remus- was because so much of my magic was being forcibly repressed. I'm guessing that by not being able to acknowledge the bond, or anything really, that I was somehow forced to subconsciously believe that I had never met my- the twins as... soulmates."

"Why does this seem to make you uncomfortable, Harrison?" Severus asked curiously. "This sort of thing is more coveted than muggles and the Holy Grail. Is it because it is a triad, rather than a typical two person relationship?"

Harrison barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "You do realize how stupid that would be, right? You've got a triad going, so why would that make a difference? Besides, you're not the only people I know that are involved in one. Pavarti Patil is involved with both Michael Corner and Alicia Spinnet. I also have it on good authority that Madam Hooch is with Professor Vector's brother and Madam Rosmerta's uncle."

"So, what's the problem?" Bella asked, propping her elbow on the table casually.

That was why Harrison liked her immediately. She had a kind aura, yet maintained a dark streak, and at the same time, he could sense that she was quite maternal and didn't seem to judge. He somehow knew that she would wind up being a confidante.

"I might have had a full magical purge, but I can't just completely deprogram being raised in the muggle world." He wasn't one hundred percent sure what exactly he was getting at, but he couldn't ignore his unease. "Neither world has the same views on anything, and I lived in one for about a decade, plus the past five summers. The other, I've only been in this world for the majority of five. I don't know about you all, but having so many conflicting beliefs thrown at me, all at once... I don't even know if it's safe to say I think the sky is blue when I could be going against the beliefs of millions! Being who I am, saying the 'wrong' opinion here, over any trivial thing, could have murderous lunatics licking my boots and the rest of the wizarding world, who loved me yesterday, sending me poisoned howlers and death threats. Trust me, they're fu- pretty painful." He flexed his hands, remembering a particular howler that spewed a heat activated acid in powder form. When the howler burst into flame rather than shred itself, his hands had been horribly burned to the point of visible sinew. He'd had to banish every stitch of clothing he had been wearing, as the acid was burning through at an alarming rate. To this day, there were patches of silvery pink all over his arms and thighs. "As much as I hate it, and I always have hated it, I'm a bloody public figure. I spent a fair bit of time at Fortescues just before my third year and the moment I would leave, every single day, Florean would be sold out of whatever I bought within an hour. It's a stupid point, but it is a point. It isn't easy to keep switching from the most talked about person in this world to the most hated in the muggle one. My muggle interactions were pretty much limited to Lily's family and a couple of teachers that had been forewarned by said family that I was a liar and a cheater, as well as a violent bully. It's a bit difficult to know where I truly stand."

"We've gotten off track," Sirius said, surprisingly calm. "The bond. That's what we need to discuss."

"I did have a thought on that..." Narcissa said uncomfortably. "Harrison, I hate to ask you this, but on what terms did you leave the twins at the bank?"

"What?"

"You had mentioned that you didn't know about it until that day. I'm thinking that it was a part of the rituals to be unblocked. You obviously didn't reject them, but I did have to magically wake you after just over two days."

"So?" Harrison knew that probably wasn't the most mature response, but he didn't care.

"So," Bellatrix chimed in. "She's trying to figure out if you accepted the bond."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" Harrison added petulantly. "They're fucking related! Not to mention the fact that their sole purpose in life is to make sure my rampant magic doesn't kill thousands. That's not right! And it sure as hell isn't fair to them!"

"That's not what these bonds do, pup." Remus sighed. "No one is forced one way or another. You see, in any soulmate or soulbond situation, the submissive, or anchor if you will, is always born first.-"

"I knew that, but never did understand why." Draco said curiously.

"In general bonds," Remus began, slipping easily into professor mode. "The anchor is born first as a means to determine whether or not the time is right for someone so powerful to be born. They are generally born during times of great turmoil, in this case, the last war. Historically, these bonds are a warning-"

"Then why the hell are people so excited about them?"

"Because everlasting peace is a myth." Severus replied.

"Yes, thank you." Remus nodded at him. "While, yes, that does sound bad, soulmates are a beacon. They are born to give the world hope that someone powerful enough will be able to stop whatever conflict is on its way. To bring back the peace. They are a warning, but not the cause. It is a gift from both Lady Magic and the Lord of Death. It is, to put it simply, a power balance. The greater the threat, the greater the power to end it. The longer the peace, the more some people want to end it. As far as history knows, your bond, being so strong, is only the third time in Wizarding history. And only once has it been completed. What this means, is that you and your lovers are going to lead the charge on the changes that Lady Magic and Lord Death deem necessary for the world. In no way is that a punishment! To bring back balance, the way they always planned, there is no higher honor."

"Then you fucking do it, if it's so great!"

"Harrison!" Came several shocked cries.

"No!" He shouted. "I am so tired of people telling me that I'm their only hope! I don't want to be a fucking saviour! I never wanted to fight anyone! But, I do have to thank you. Before, it only felt like a lot of pressure to help everyone. But at least now I know that the fate of the entire fucking world really is on me! What a relief! It really is wonderful to know that I'm not just being paranoid, as I've been told almost daily since I was eleven! So, I really must thank you for confirming my worst fears."

Over the loud attempts to reassure Harrison, there was a crack!

"Forgive me, Master," an elf said, bowing low. "There be an owl hovering at the wards. It be hurting itself to get inside."

"Send it away, Poppon." Lucius said politely. "If it can't get past the wards, then it doesn't need to be here."

"Poppon tried, Master," the elf said sadly. "Poor tiny, clumsy owl has injured itself badly on wards. It can't fly."

Tiny and clumsy? There's no way. "Someone ask what it looks like."

"It be a tiny brown excitable thing. Very loud." Poppon said immediately. "Poppon be understanding Master Snake."

While Harrison thought it odd that the elf seemed to be stuck somewhere between proper English and Wizard Ego, he couldn't help but be curious about the owl. "That's one of the Weasley owls. Pig, I think."

"The one I got?" Sirius asked.

"Why on Earth would a Weasley owl be here?" Narcissa wondered aloud.

Harrison waved his hand and the injured owl appeared on the table. "Thank you, Poppon." He didn't bother to see the elf leave, instead turning his focus to Pig. It really was a mess. One of its wings was bent at an angle that made Harrison wince. He certainly knew that pain. And the tiny beak was bleeding as if the owl had slammed into a wall several times, which, knowing the Malfoy's previously, it might as well have.

Hooting softly when it laid eyes on Harrison, Pig hopped unsteadily toward him. When he lifted the small packet of letters, he overbalanced and fell on his side, not bothering to get back up.

Harrison took the letters and dropped it on his empty plate to check on the owl. Within seconds of muttering words in Latin that left much of the table in shock, a light blue glow surrounded the owl and he chirruped loudly and flew around the room, but didn't leave.

Recognizing the handwriting on both letters, he became curious. Deciding to read Ginny's first, he used a modified bubblehead charm around the letter in mid air and made it open and unfold itself. He was hardly surprised to see a thick pink mist trapped inside the bubble. The fog was too thick to see anything written, so when he waved his hand again, Ginny's voice started reading.

"Dearest Harry," it began, and he rolled his eyes. "I have just awful news, and I need you here. Oh, Harry, it's so horrible! Dad's gone! I'm a wreck! I need you here to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay. Please, I need you! With You-Know-Who at large, I'm so scared. You've saved me from him before, and I need that feeling back, otherwise I don't think I'll ever feel safe again. I know you're confused with this gay business, but come see me at the Burrow. Please, I'm begging you! With my deepest, truest love, Ginny."

"That was the most pathetic thing I've ever heard." Draco scoffed.

"You're not wrong," Harrison agreed. "But what does she mean that Mr. Weasley is gone? Dumbledore would be the kind of person to send a father of seven into something dangerous, but I wonder where he could have disappeared to? It couldn't have had anything to do with Voldemort, right? You lot spoke with him, didn't you?"

"We did," Severus leaned back in his seat, pushing his long hair out of his face. "As far as I know, he's still in a coma at Gringotts. There were just as many compulsions on him as there were on you, Harrison. Between Bella and I, we had to stun him six times, because at this stage of his insanity, he never would have listened."

"Rampant Death Eaters, perhaps?"

"I doubt it," Lucius said contemplatively. "They know the consequences for acting without express consent. Trust me, for as long as Tom remains in a coma, there will be no activity from his followers."

With a shrug, Harrison opened the second letter. There was no line of greeting, but there were spots of water all over it that had dried, staining the parchment. He had this letter read itself too, just in case Molly or Ginny had gotten their hands on it.

"No matter what you hear from Ginny, do not come here." The voice was Fred, and he sounded like he was crying. "Georgie and I think it's a trap. Dad's been killed. We hope you can find out something on your end because we know that Dumbledore is lying. He said that it was Voldemort, but his stories don't add up. The funeral is being planned and mum has already started telling people that you're paying for some lavish hero's memorial for him. We know that it's a lie, and we're asking that you not pay for anything." There was a pause when Fred's voice broke completely, in heart wrenching sobs. "I hope we can see you before school starts back up so we can figure out what really happened to him. Fred and George." The last part had been Georgie's voice and he wasn't crying, but he sounded hollow, defeated.

Silence dropped heavily over the room.

"He's dead?" Harrison choked out weakly, slumping his shoulders. "But... you just said..."

"Oh, Arthur," Remus said tearfully.

"Those poor children!" Narcissa sniffled, trying not to cry.

Harrison paused. Wasn't the bond supposed to work both ways? Why wasn't he getting anything from them? Some feeling, or thought, or anything. "I think it broke."

A hand touched his, snapping him out of his stupor. He jerked his hand back, and saw a startled Bellatrix. "Sorry."

"What broke, love?" She asked him calmly, folding her hands together.

"I can't feel anything."

Much to the concern of the entire party, Harrison sounded... wrong, broken.

"The bond... I can't feel anything... I think I broke it..."

There were several cries as Harrison's eyes rolled back and he collapsed, tipping his chair in the process.

Chapter End Notes

Hey everyone! I just want to warn you all that chapter 20 is going to have some... grossness in it. It will be clearly labeled, so you can skip it. I DID NOT intend for the scene to happen, but my keyboard took on a life of it's own and may or may not have made me gag a bit... Oh well. Read that part at your own risk- I mean discretion... Right, that.

Chapter 20

Chapter Notes

Okay, people! I know I already warned you, but I feel the need to do so again! There is some nastiness in this chapter. It is clearly labelled and you CAN skip it! Just go from the first spot that says 'gross gross gross (etc)' to the next part that says the same. I gagged a little bit when I wrote it. If anyone complains in the comments, I will delete it because I have given out 2 warnings. Anyway, on to chapter 20! Enjoy!

(Backtrack to just after Gringotts)

"What do we do, Freddie?" George asked his twin miserably. "He probably hates us now."

Fred sighed heavily and sat at the foot of his cot. "He doesn't, Georgie. We know he doesn't. That's not who Harrison is, and you know it. He just needs a bit of time. He'll come 'round. All we can do for now is wait a bit."

"We scared him though." George propped his head on his knees. "He's never been afraid of us before... Other people, sure, but never us. It doesn't... this isn't right."

"He's overwhelmed. I can hardly blame him. You heard him back there. Until an hour ago, he hadn't known that soulmates were real. That's a lot to take in. Sometimes I forget that he wasn't raised in the Wizarding world like we were. Things that we automatically have answers to, he's never heard of before, or if he has, they were sold off as make-believe stories for children. It's not his fault that he's in the dark about things like that. Merlin, especially about that!"

"I know that, Freddie!" George snapped back and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, alright? I just didn't expect that kind of reaction. Not from him. Besides, you heard Griphook... We literally can't give him space. Our bloody minds are connected! How else would he have summoned us from here when he had that panic attack?"

Fred got up from his own bed and sat next to his brother, slinging his arm around hunched shoulders. He opened his mouth but before he could speak, the door burst open and slammed into the wall.

They watched as bits of chipped paint fell to the floor.

"Dinner's ready!" Ginny shouted angrily. "Mum's been shouting for ten minutes! What in Merlin's name is wrong with you two!?" There was no concern in her voice for her obviously upset brothers, just pure anger and loathing.

They were honestly stunned. Sure, they knew what kind of person she was, which was not a good thing for her, but she had not acted that way with them before. Like all siblings, especially from large families, they fought. That was never a real problem as they would make up fairly quickly over their petty squabbles. But this? What the hell was going on with their baby sister? They hadn't ever felt like she actually hated them. At this moment though, it was clear as day.

"What the hell is your problem?" George asked indignantly. "You've just put a hole in the bloody wall!"

"So what?" She retorted, hands on her hips. "You're constantly breaking things in here, so what's one more hole in the wall?"

Despite all of the explosions and loud bangs and small fires they'd started by mistake, they'd always been sure to clean up after themselves. Now, there were no traces of damage to anything, and since they were still underage when most of the damage had been done, everything was cleaned up and fixed without magic. It still was, despite the fact that they'd reached their majority back in April. By now, it was just habit.

Rather than start an argument, Fred just shook his head. "Fine, Ginny. We'll be right down."

She simpered, seemingly pleased with herself, and slammed the door shut behind her so hard that several phials of their experimental potions crashed to the floor.

Leaping into action, George dumped a box of baking soda in the frothing, hissing puddle that was slowly starting to eat its way through the rickety floor boards.

Fred vanished the clumpy mess with a wave of his wand. There was no way to repair it as the missing area had been dissolved and cleared away, so he warded the space around it to keep them, or anyone else, from stepping there. "Come on, Georgie. Let's go get this over with."

"Yeah, maybe we can pick something up afterward." George pulled the ever-present extendable ears from his pocket. It was something they had planned on doing as soon as they'd heard what their family was doing from Harrison at the beginning of the year. So far, they hadn't had any luck, but it was only the second day of Yule break. There was plenty of time to gather information for Harrison's pensieve.

Unfortunately, they weren't able to pick anything up until the next day. What they did find out, however, was nothing short of horrifying.

Just after breakfast, the twins made a show of going over to a nearby friends' house to have a pick up game of quidditch. Just because they flew off on their brooms, that didn't necessarily mean that they wouldn't be back. Since the rest of their family was in the kitchen still, all they had to do was mount their brooms and kick off within sight of the kitchen window. As soon as they cleared the fence, they wrapped around to the other side and stashed their brooms in a row of bushes. Casting notice-me-not charms on themselves, as well as a modified set of extendable ears, they went through the window of their parents' room to listen in. If Molly, Ginny and Ron hadn't been so encouraging for them to leave, they might have actually gone flying with a friend, but they were behaving oddly.

George wriggled the ear through the small gap under the door and waited.

"It's about bloody time!" Ron's voice said clearly. "They never spend so much time here! Usually off with their stupid friends as soon as break starts!"

"Hush, Ronny," Molly replied. "Give it a minute in case they forgot something. I'll get this cleaned up while we wait. Nippit!"

Fred and George looked at each other in confusion when they heard a distinct pop of elf apparition.

"Clear this away, and be quick about it!" Molly demanded. "If anyone shows up or the floo chimes, you disappear. Now, get moving!"

"Yes, Mistress, Nippit be's doing it now."

"Ronny, keep an eye out until the elf leaves."

"Why me?" Came the expected whine. "Make Ginny do it!"

"Oh, will you shut up?" Ginny growled. "If you could brew, you wouldn't have to keep watch, now would you?"

"Alright, alright, enough. I don't think they're coming back, so you two can stop this nonsense."

gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross

"So how long d'you think we have?" Ron asked, sounding amazingly calm.

"George said they would be back by supper, so that gives us until about six or seven." Molly said quickly, and a chair scraped back. There was some bustling around and several thunks on the table.

"When are we switching from the contraceptive to the fertility potion?" Ginny huffed. "I just want this over with, and if it means being a young mother, then fine."

The twins' jaws dropped. Ginny wanted to get pregnant at fourteen?! Why?

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Gin." Ron snorted. "Just remember, when you do trap the bastard, make sure he buys a house big enough for Granger and I to move in, along with another empty room for us."

For them? What the hell is he talking about?

"Oh, mum, I was wondering something." Ron said, seemingly distracted.

"What is it, Ronny?"

"How are we going to explain-Merlin, Ginny, stop squirming like that-How are we going to be able to say that the baby is his? He already announced that he was a fucking fag to half the school."

"I already thought of that when you wrote to me. Since the twins have been translating for him, we'll just say he was misquoted. We can't say he's straight, like he's supposed to be, but we can say he fancies both. If we do that, then everyone will understand why he was so upset when you called one of the twins... what was it again?"

Fred pressed flat against the floor to peek through the gap. Keeping his right eye closed, he was able to focus on what he could see with his left.

Molly was chopping things up, next to a large bubbling cauldron. Nippit was ignoring them and scrubbing pans. To Fred's outright horror, Ginny was sitting on Ron's lap, rocking her hips.

"Does it matter what I called him?" Ron asked with a laugh. "Besides, he's bloody mental. Who in their right mind would want a man instead of all this?"

Fred's eyes widened as he watched his own brother fondle their moaning sister. Ginny put her hand over Ron's, which was in her blouse, tracing a hardened nipple.

What's worse, their mother didn't seem to be bothered by this at all! What the fuck was going on with them?!

"Besides, the baby won't look anything like any other man, so he won't be likely to refuse it, since it will just have the red hair and freckles that the Weasley's are known for. If Ginny were to sleep with someone else, there would be a chance it could look like them, and Harry would think that the baby wasn't his and all of our plans would be ruined."

"I already told my little friends that I wouldn't be seeing them anymore, after the holidays, so when are we switching the potions? Don't think I don't know that you've already laced my tea with the aphrodisiacs." Ginny ground her hips harder into her brothers' lap.

"Since when do you need those?" Ron groaned, gripping her hips in efforts to stop her movements.

"You know I don't." She purred, leaning back as he tightened his hold.

"I needed to make sure that the potions would take." Molly said, dropping mashed newts eyes into the cauldron. "This has to be taken immediately, by you both, and is only effective for six hours. The stamina potions are in the cupboard. It has to take, so you'll need to use every minute to make sure it does."

"Six hours!" Ginny cried happily.

"And we can use that charm you've been going on about." Ron said conspiratorially.

"You'll finally let me?" She beamed.

"What charm?" Molly asked. "Some of them might counteract the potions."

"The engorgement charm." Ginny supplied. "I don't want to be able to walk afterwards."

The twins nearly vomited.

"That'll be fine, but I'll have to cast it since you're both still underage."

"Can we do it now?" Ginny pleaded.

Molly nodded. "This is just about finished anyway. Stand up, so I can see what I'm doing."

Casting a whispered privacy bubble, Fred shook his head. "I can't watch this anymore. I'm going to be ill."

Looking just as green as his twin, George relented. "That's fine. I'll watch, only so we can record the memories. Merlin, I want to find someone that will be able to obliviate me after this." Taking a steadying breath, George took his twins' place at the gap.

The fact that neither their siblings nor their mother seemed to have a problem with anything going on was even more worrying than the actions themselves. "How the fuck does this not bother any of them?" Fred asked, after hearing Ginny whine that something wasn't enough.

"Ginny dear," Molly was saying in a tone usually saved for toddlers. "I don't want you to hurt yourself. If this goes much further, those tightening charms I showed you might not work very well."

"Oh, who cares?" She said flippantly. "Since Harry's a wand swallower, he'll probably only want to stick it in my arse anyway, so he won't know the difference. Once more should do it, mummy."

"Fine, but I'll need Albus to help with the memory modification after you do get him to sleep with you so that he thinks that he's the one who impregnated you. Engorgio."

Ron's jaw was on the floor. "Gin, are you sure about this?"

This is so wrong. "Merlin, Freddie, you're lucky I don't hate you enough to make you watch this. She's made mum charm his prick to the size of my bloody forearm."

Groaning, Fred covered his mouth. "Please shut up. You know I have a weak stomach as it is."

"Mummy," Ginny whined, fanning herself vehemently. "I think you overdid it with the aphrodisiacs. Oh, Merlin, it's getting stronger. Isn't that bloody fertility potion ready yet?"

Much to his horror, George watched as his youngest brother grew aroused at the sight of their sister chugging a dark pink potion, and leap at him.

"The potion will keep getting stronger until it wears off, which should be about five o'clock, giving you both time to clean yourselves up. Do not leave another mess in Percy's room. I mean it. Last time was difficult enough to sort out. I had to tell him that it-"

"Yes, we know." Ron groaned. "We don't care. Just send up the stamina ones in a bit, and there shouldn't be any mess anyway. It all has to stay inside anyhow, so we're going."

George watched as Ginny hiked up her skirt and climbed up Ron until her legs were around his waist. She sank herself onto him and they both groaned. He held her still for a moment and proceeded to slowly walk up the stairs as Molly hovered four potion bottles behind them.

gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross

Fred was never more grateful for privacy charms as he was at that point, especially since his twin was loudly emptying his stomach on their mothers' bedroom floor. His own stomach lurched at both the sound and the smell. If he'd open his eyes, he knew that he would be ill as well. "Come on, we need to go now."

His twin had stopped retching for about a minute, so Fred figured that must be all of it. He heard the careful breaths before a hasty scourgify. Together they climbed out the window, thankful for the painfully cold air, and flew off.

(End of backtrack)

--

Harrison felt uncomfortable. There was something cool on his face, but it did little to help the way he was feeling. Still, it was kind of nice. It reminded him of a movie he'd seen a few seconds of, when he was at the Dursley's as he was being kicked into his cupboard. There had been a little girl, maybe seven years old, and she was obviously ill. The girl's mother was dabbing a damp rag over her sweaty brow and humming a lullaby.

He'd been jealous, of course, and still was. That was something that had always made Harrison feel stupid. It was just some movie. Besides, people didn't really behave that way. Movies always exaggerate the lovey dovey parts. It wasn't real, but knowing that never did quell his jealousy.

"... and she refused to speak with both of us until we'd well and truly made a spectacle of ourselves for her forgiveness." Someone was saying. It was Snape. That velvety voice was completely impossible to mistake.

"Yes," another voice joined the first. Lucius. "If I recall correctly, I had to shout that I was an inconsiderate bastard in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, while Severus had to fly over the quidditch pitch during practice and inform the entire team that he was not a snake, but a wimpy worm."

"It was one of my more embarrassing moments in school, but it didn't matter. We were forgiven, and that was all we cared about."

Wanting to hear more, Harrison kept his eyes closed. He might have felt like absolute shite, but it was almost like he was being let in on a secret. He knew it didn't make sense, but he liked the fact that it seemed like he was eavesdropping on a secret conversation, despite the fact that they were talking to him. It was nice and he was so comfortable. It didn't matter that he had no idea what they'd done, or who they'd done it to. He kept his eyes closed, wanting to listen to them all day.

There was a pause and what sounded like a muffled chuckle.

Lucius cleared his throat. "That was my first year out of Hogwarts. I did miss it, but that's fine. You might not know this about me, but I was scouted by the Wimbleton Wasps, and I very nearly played for them."

"Why didn't you?" Damnit! He hadn't meant to ask that aloud! Just listening had been good enough for him. Damnit!

The cool rag vanished.

Damnit! That felt kind of nice. He groaned internally and opened his eyes. The game was over now.

Lucius was on his right with a slight smirk on his face, and Snape was on his left, holding the rag.

"Well, I had a prior engagement that I had no intention of missing."

Harrison's jaw dropped. "You skipped out on one of the best teams in the league because of an appointment?" He couldn't believe it. Ignoring the fact that he still felt terrible, he couldn't help but be shocked. What appointment could have been so important?

They both laughed uproariously.

He startled at the sudden noise, but quickly regained his composure.

As the laughter tapered off, Snape's ministrations with the rag continued. Harrison closed his eyes in contentment.

"If I had," Lucius continued in a softer tone. "You and Draco might not have been born. It wasn't an ordinary appointment, Harrison. That was the day of our Bonding. June 29th, 1979."

For some reason, Harrison was upset by that. With all of the information about his family, why was knowing his parents' anniversary more jarring than any of it? It was such a simple thing, so why did it seem so monumental? Why did it make his eyes sting with unshed tears?

Unwilling to shed them, he simply nodded.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Lucius suggested softly. "We could stay if you'd like..."

He wanted them to stay, but the offer sounded... like an afterthought. As if they didn't want- 'Of course they didn't want to!' his inner voice scoffed. 'You're not four! You're a legal adult! Start acting like it!'

"Thank you, Lucius," Harrison said weakly. "But I should probably go."

Severus nodded with a small smile. "If that is your wish."

Harrison sat up, feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Thanks... for helping me...? I'll um... I'll see you all later. Say goodbye for me?" When they agreed, he vanished on the spot, suddenly desperate to be alone.

Instantly, Harrison found himself in his own bed, where he curled in a ball and didn't move. The hollow feeling in his stomach only growing. 'God, I'm so stupid! I am too old to want to be comforted like a little kid! What adult wants to be cuddled by their parents? None-'

His eyes widened in shock. He'd never thought about them as his parents before. Sure, he knew that they were, but it had never seemed like they would... Surely, they were good to Draco. But they'd had each other all their lives. He was an interloper that blew the lives of his entire family out of the water! Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? What if they liked their lives before he had them dragged to Gringotts? Narcissa lost a husband and a child. Bellatrix lost her husband (he no longer cared about her as a sane woman). Severus now knew that his wife was gone and that he had lost a lot of time with Draco, who lost his mother. And Lucius, who lost a wife only to find out that his first one had been MIA for almost a decade and a half.

And... if Dumbledore hadn't been so anxious for movement from Voldemort, who was in a coma because of Harrison, he might not have acted in his place. It was Harrison's fault that Dumbledore either killed, or was behind the killing, of Mr. Weasley. Dumbledore needed to keep the fear of Voldemort's return alive. So, he faked a Death Eater attack. That was way too fast though. Why was he so ready for that solution?

He sat bolt upright.

This wasn't the first time. He had to have done this before.

Summoning his writing tools, he wrote a quick note. "Pohy!" He called out. Normally, he'd have called for Dobby, but he didn't want to make the poor elf go to his previous masters/abusers.

"Yes, Master Snakey-tongue?" Pohy asked sleepily, rubbing the grit out of her large eyes with her tiny fist.

He held the note up. "I need this to go to Severus Snape or Lucius Malfoy. They are at Malfoy Manor. No one else. If they choose to share the information, I don't care, but no one gets it before one of them. Stay until it's been read."

"Should I wake them?" She asked, unsure.

"Yes," he insisted. "Please go now. It's important."

Without another word, she and the note disappeared.

He wrote a second note, which he sent off with Dobby.

I might have some information that you asked about. Currently waiting for proof. Dobby will come to you if called. -H

With that, Harrison set out to catch up on some of his work.

--

When you find yourself ready to explain, we will consider your request. Until then, SS

Harrison rolled his eyes, refolding the short note. "Pohy!"

"Yes?" She asked immediately, setting down a silver tray containing his too large breakfast.

He smiled. The elves were hell-bent on overfeeding him, constantly mentioning his weight.

"I know you're not an owl, but will you go back to Malfoy Manor and tell them that I'm swamped with work, but desperately need the information?"

She nodded and popped away.

With that done, he stacked as much of the bacon and eggs onto his toast as possible and stuck an orange in his pocket. Casting a quick stasis on the rest, and there was a lot, he gathered his paperwork and apparated to the ministry visitor's entrance. This was going to be another long day.

When he was finally in the Atrium, Harrison vowed to do everything in his power to change the entrance. Flushing himself down the toilet was disgusting, even if he did stay clean.

With his badge in place, which read 'DMLE VISITOR', he climbed into what looked like an ordinary lift. That said, he wasn't overly surprised that it was anything but ordinary. The violent push and pull as it stopped and started, slamming into people when it changed direction, and his feet even leaving the floor when it abruptly jolted downward, was not much fun.

The dozen or so people that were crammed in the small space jerked as one, though it was obvious who the experts were, judging by the fact that a few of them were able to handle the rapid stop by bending their knees in just the right way so that not one of them spilled their coffee or how some snapped their folders shut at just the right moment, and none of them looked up, even if they were climbing out of the cramped elevator.

Harrison followed two witches that had windswept hair, damp and rumpled robes while reading scrolls as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The pair moved quickly into what appeared to be a massive drawbridge. He went down three more hallways, seeing all manner of strange things and people that he would never have pictured in a ministry setting.

The door to Amelia Bones' office was thick hardwood slats that were held together by strips of iron and rivets. Two swift taps were immediately met by a pleasant 'come in'.

He smiled in greeting and waited for Madam Bones to find her ear cuff.

"What can I help you with today, Mister-"

"None of that." Harrison rolled his eyes.

She smirked. "Alright then, what is it this time? I'm still cleaning up this Sirius Black mess."

He desperately wished he was able to properly laugh. "I brought a pretty good headache potion this time..." With all that he had brought to her attention with the whole Sirius-was-framed thing, the poor woman had run around frantically for two days getting everything righted that she swore off ever helping him again without one.

With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment. "It's a good thing that I declined my invitation to a weekend away, isn't it? Oh well, I don't like my cousins very much anyway. So, what is it?"

"I just want to prepare you, Madam Bones. Maybe you'll be able to figure out how you want to handle this."

Her expression went from tired to concerned and resigned. "I don't like the way this sounds."

"If it's any consolation, it isn't my fault." He smiled weakly. "I'm going to give you some information that cannot leave this room so that you understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. This can't get out yet. I apologize in advance for any questions I'm not at liberty to answer."

"I understand." She replied, setting up privacy wards.

"Everything since the November Wizengamot session in 1981 will need to be put up for review." Harrison spoke the words calmly, knowing that this was not something that anyone wanted to deal with. "I have some across some pretty damning evidence of fraud, line theft, falsifying documents, as well as the illegal usage of Wizengamot seats, some of which are Most Ancient and Noble Houses, another being an Ancient and Noble House."

Rather than jump in with questions, as she normally would, she just sagged slightly in her chair. "I'm beginning to think that you were born for the sole purpose of making my job difficult. Next time you have to bring some massive conspiracy theory worthy case, real or not, you are going to owe me a certificate to Madam Roldevski's spa."

"I think I'm going to owe you that today." He took a seat when she gestured to a comfortably upholstered wooden chair. "The Potter seats, the Black seats and the Prince seats have been illegally taken over without the knowledge or consent of the rightful heirs. I got the appropriate documents from the Gringotts goblins."

"Oh, you definitely owe me." She closed her eyes again. "Alright, let's hear it."

For the next hour, Harrison went over everything to do with the seats, while keeping as much information private as was possible. It was a difficult work-around, keeping his lineage secret. It was frustrating, not being able to just lay everything out, but he knew that the timing wasn't right. He had to wait to release some of Dumbledore's more heinous crimes until his support base was ruined, otherwise his many well-placed pawns would make sure that nothing would come of it all. It would be somehow dismissed. He wasn't so juvenile as to think that just handing over all kinds of information and even evidence would guarantee a prison sentence. No, he needed to chip away at the man's credibility until there was nothing left and the public was out for blood. Merlin knew that would be a day of celebration for Harrison.

"You know, if you weren't such a good kid, it would be a lot easier to hate you."

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." Harrison smiled widely. "Oh, before I forget. Happy Yule." Digging in his pocket, he found the envelope and placed it on her desk. "I know it's not particularly expensive, but that the reservations are a nightmare. Congratulations, Madam Bones. You're the first person that I've ever used my name to get something for."

Her brow raised, suspiciously eyeing the envelope.

"Don't worry," he said quickly. "It's not a bribe or anything. Honestly, I just felt bad about swamping you with so much work over the holidays. I actually bought it the day that I sprang the Siri debacle on you, because I knew that something else was going to crop up. I just didn't realize how far it went."

"There's going to be more, isn't there?" She sounded drained.

"Yes, there will be more." He admitted apologetically. "And it's going to be a PR nightmare. It might very well result in a promotion for you. It's going to be a lot, but I'll be spreading it out over the next six months as I gather more information."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a pain in the neck?"

"They have, actually. But now I know where Susan gets her sass from."

"Alright, alright, go home! It's a school break! Shouldn't you be harassing your family and sneaking out to see your friends? Susan thinks I don't know that she snuck out this morning to visit Luna Lovegood. Families are pretty lenient this time of year, so you should be taking advantage of that to have some fun. Happy Yule, Harry."

He laughed soundlessly as usual. "Did she really? I'm good friends with Luna. Maybe I'll pop in on them."

With that, he left the woman to her work. He hoped she liked her gift. It wasn't Madam Roldevski's, but there was a little place in Sweden that was known all over the Wizarding World for their masseurs and various services. According to the owner, Gunbiorn, all of their employees all had to take a lot of training courses all over the world before he'd hire them. He'd had to ask several people about finding the best spas. There seemed to be no question that Gunbiorn was the best. When he told her that it wasn't expensive, he wasn't lying. But he was also booked solid for the next three and a half years, so Harrison had paid about four times the usual rate to get them to stay open late for her and give her a full body treatment. What exactly a full body treatment was, he had no idea, but why not? He was just thankful that galleons were universal, because he didn't have the patience to figure out the conversion from kronar, to pounds, to galleons.

It hadn't been hard to figure out what to get her, because during his first visit, he'd seen several pamphlets for different spas on her desk that were half-hidden under a huge pile of thick case files.

Chapter 21

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Merlin, I haven't had these in years!" Lucius said happily, picking up a second biscuit.

"I know," Dobby said calmly, filling up their teacups. "My mother worked for your parents."

Harrison watched Dobby's usual grace and Lucius' surprise with amusement. He had offered to have Eppie or Pohy set out the service so that Dobby didn't have to deal with Lucius at all, but Dobby admitted that he wanted the man to see him thriving in a new environment. He wanted to rub his former master's nose in it, which Harrison didn't mind.

Honestly, he kind of wanted to do the same to the Dursley's, especially with his money. At the same time, he knew that he didn't have to because with the monthly allotment that Dumblefumble was giving them, Harrison was pleased to know that he owned every large purchase the Dursley's had made over the last fifteen years or so. The house, the trips, the cars (which Harrison found out that Vernon was not legally allowed to sell, since they weren't his to begin with) and would have to pay it all back, including the money that he'd sold the cars for.

"So," Harrison began, stirring a bit of sugar into his massive coffee cup. "I asked you both here today to discuss your time as Death Eaters." He'd asked Severus too, but he was unable to make it because of a conflicting Order meeting.

Bellatrix was watching them, content to just be with her newfound godson.

"Yes," Lucius nodded. "You never did say why you wanted the information."

"To prove some of the things that our illustrious Headmaster has done." Harrison shrugged, picking up one of the delightful caramel apple oat bars that Eppie made. "I want to compare and contrast the movements made by your group. What you did, how you did it, why you did it. And since you two were at different levels of confidence, how your positions differed from each other. I want to unravel fifteen plus years of corruption and manipulation."

Lucius was surprised and Bellatrix was amused.

Harrison had gotten copies of all of the files Madam Bones had on every DE attack from the last twenty years. It had taken four owls to deliver it all, even shrunken and put into small boxes for transport.

He waved his hand and the boxes appeared next to him on the floor. He waved it again and they resized themselves. "This mess," he began, indicating the boxes. "Is every supposed Death Eater attack from the last twenty years. I have gone over some of it, but not had the chance to do more than glance over it all. It's too much to do alone."

"Ah," Lucius said, with the barest hint of sadness. "I see."

"With both of you here, it shouldn't take too long."

"What exactly do you want us to do?" Bellatrix asked, speaking for the first time since their arrival. She was not looking forward to going over all of their unwitting crimes, even knowing that she had no control of their actions. It was not an easy thing to think about, let alone see in writing.

"For now, just tell me whether or not either of you were involved or heard about it beforehand. They're already in chronological order, so would you rather start from recently, or twenty years ago?"

After about half an hour, Bellatrix excused herself, clearly upset.

"I shouldn't have asked her to come today, should I?" Harrison asked, feeling incredibly stupid.

Lucius hesitated. "If I may… Why did you?"

He sighed. "Honestly, I hadn't planned on it. I was just going to ask Prof- Severus, but he was busy. Remmy, Siri and Narcissa weren't involved in any of this for at least fifteen years, and none of them are even marked. I'm going to have to apologize to her. And you, I suppose. Neither of you were doing these things willingly, and here I am, rubbing your noses in it."

"Thankfully," Lucius replied calmly, leaning back slightly and crossing his ankles. "I was not involved in a majority of this. My position was not one of violence, but intelligence. It was my job to move things along and collect information in the ministry, and on occasion, grease palms of the greedy. There were only three or four raids that I went on, and they were almost completely non-violent. That was years ago."

At that, Harrison was both stunned and confused. "But the World Cup? Weren't you involved there?"

"No," he said with a small shake of his head. "At the first signs of the riot, I made an illegal portkey and took Draco and Cissa home." He paused. "Very few of the people arrested that night were actually Death Eaters."

"What?" Came the incredulous reply. "But they had the marks, didn't they?"

For a few moments, Lucius was quiet, deep in thought. "They were fakes. I remember seeing a few of the marks when I was in the ministry and they looked new. The Dark Lord hadn't even risen by that point, so how were the marks new? Not to mention that they looked like they had been done with a muggle brand."

"How were yours done?" Harrison asked curiously.

"While, yes, it was slightly painful, it was just a spell. It wasn't a branding at all. Well, not in a traditional sense in any case." Lucius rolled up his left sleeve. "Our marks, the true marks, move. The brandings on the fake Death Eaters didn't move at all. I think that they were branded with the muggle tools. Utterly barbaric, torturing people that are supposed to be loyal to you and your cause. It doesn't make any sense. We were all confused after the Dark Lord started hurting us. He had never done anything like that before he was 'vanquished' by you. Since his reincarnation, he's completely different from the man we joined. Of course, that's hardly surprising, as none of us were ourselves."

"Too true." Harrison agreed miserably. "I still don't know who I'm supposed to be. Every bit of my personality was dictated before I was even old enough to have a bloody personality. I've even taken to referring to myself as two completely separate people since the summer."

Lucius smiled wanly. "Perhaps we should find out?"

Raising his pierced brow, Harrison put down the horrifying case folder. "What do you suggest?"

--

Sitting on their trunks, Fred and George were still waiting on the rest of their family to get ready. It was already half past ten, and the train left at eleven on the dot.

"D'you really want to wait for them?" George asked his twin.

"Not particularly." Fred replied with a grimace. They'd been doing their very best not to spend any time with their mother or younger siblings, too repulsed by them to want to be in the same room. It was easier to stand them when… when their dad was there to act as a buffer between the two obviously divided groups of the Weasley clan. Molly, Ron and Ginny had always been off in their own little world of self importance and selfishness, but hid it when their dad was around. But… he wasn't around anymore.

"Let's just go then." George said, standing.

Fred shrunk their trunks and pocketed them both before grabbing a handful of floo powder and being whisked away in the emerald flames, quickly followed by his brother.

Since their luggage was already in Fred's pocket, they went straight onto the train, not bothering to stop and chat with anyone.

With the news of the Weasley patriarch having been in the Prophet, the twins were left mercifully alone, but it didn't stop the sympathetic stares and murmurs of the crowd.

The twins' fellow students gave them a wide berth in the train, and a similar looking trio of lower year Hufflepuffs offered them their cabin, stating that they could find some of their friends to sit with, as there were no empty cabins left being so close to eleven.

"You know," one of the 'Puffs said shyly at the door. "He was really nice to us and our parents in our first year. We were too scared to go through the barrier, but he escorted us all through, two at a time. He even told mum and dad how important it was for us to have an owl, since muggle post doesn't work here. Two days later, our mum wrote to us and told us all about how Mr. Weasley took them back to Diagon Alley and helped them pick out a tawny owl and a bunch of wizarding sweets. We called him Weezy."

Fred hugged himself and took a seat, unable to say anything.

"Thanks," George said softly as the trio waved goodbye and pulled the door shut.

A little while after the train pulled out of the station, Fred and George were still blissfully alone. When they heard a knock, both were slightly surprised to see Harrison.

They absently noticed that the green streaks in his hair were gone, but that everything else was the same.

George in particular was happy to note that Harrison still had in all of his piercings. He really liked them.

"Hey," he said weakly. "How are you?"

"Could be better, I suppose," George replied sadly. "But, then again, I reckon we're just adding to the list of families that say the same."

"I'm so sorry," Harrison said, stepping inside the compartment. "For the bank, for your dad, for the-"

"Stop, Harrison." Fred cut in. "You don't have anything to apologize for. We mostly understand what happened at the bank, and neither of us blame you for getting upset. As for dad, you had nothing to do with it. Besides, you're looking for the answers we need. There is nothing else you could possibly need to apologize for."

With that, Harrison flung himself at Fred and held on tight, not minding the fact that he had never sat in someone's lap before. This was right.

He waved his hand over the compartment door three times to lock it, silence it and keep anyone from seeing inside. As an afterthought, he added a confundus charm to the handle so that anyone who touched it would simply move on, having completely forgotten about the compartment.

"I s'pose we should talk," George suggested.

Harrison nodded in agreement. "Where do we start? Your family, my new family, us, the changes at school, the HeadBastard, Umbitch… Really, we have no shortage of topics."

Tightening his grip on Harrison's waist, Fred spoke up. "Not our family, please. Not yet. Anything else that's… happy. Doesn't matter what."

"Well," he said with a smile. "I finished my secret potions project. And it worked out perfectly. I patented it with the goblins."

"So, does that mean you'll finally tell us what it is?" George asked mockingly.

"'Course not," Harrison said, rolling his eyes. "I brought it up to make you suffer." Tugging the shrunken bag out of his pocket, he rummaged around for something. Eventually, he handed them each a copy of Potions Quarterly. "Now, they haven't heard it's finished yet, but it is. Page 28. Severus already framed the article."

Identical gasps came from the twins, a couple of seconds apart, as Fred read faster.

"There is no bloody way you cured lycanthropy!" He cried out in shock. "They've been looking for a cure for over fifteen hundred years!"

"Is that so? Well, in that case, I'll be sure to let Remus know that the last full moon was a fluke and he'll start transforming every month again."

With a smirk, he took the mirror out of his bag and called out 'dogfathers!'

They looked at him with amused confusion, and watched the mirror.

"Pup!" Sirius' gleeful face came into view. "Don't tell me you're in trouble already?"

"Nah, is Remmy around?"

"You wound me!" He wailed, clutching at his heart dramatically. "My own cub, calling me to talk to someone else! Oh, the betrayal!"

The twins snickered and Harrison angled the mirror so they could all be seen.

"Harrison!" Remus called happily. "You haven't gotten into trouble, have you?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" He demanded, his eyes wide with shock. "I haven't even gotten to Hogwarts yet!"

"Anyway!" Remus chuckled. "What's up, pup?"

"I just felt the need to let you know that your potion couldn't possibly have worked because the twins said it's impossible."

Sirius snorted. "And here I was, thinking it worked. Damn, Mufasa, you should have told me!"

"Mufasa? Really?"

He shrugged. "Moony doesn't work anymore. Mufasa does."

"Anyway," Remus said loudly, cutting off Siri's nonsense. "Yes, the potions worked beautifully. I am no longer a werewolf!"

"Harrison," George gaped. "This is incredible! Do you have any idea what this will do for our world?!"

While Harrison was busy turning a stunning shade of red, Fred laughed. "I'm sure he had no idea, Georgie."

"You are a bloody marvel."

"Careful, Mr. Weasley," Sirius said, unable to tell which one he was talking to. "Anymore blood rushes to Harrison's face and his head will explode."

Harrison disconnected the mirror and stuffed it back in his pocket, still blushing madly.

George entwined their fingers. "You know, I don't think red has ever looked better."

With an internal groan, Harrison dropped his head onto Fred's shoulder. "You are such a prat!"

"Maybe, but I'm right."

"Absolutely," Fred agreed, nuzzling their soulmate.

"Alright, already!" Harrison covered his face. "Can we just move on? Please? I'm pretty well humiliated by this topic, so one of you can pick the next."

"The bank, then?" George suggested. He had to force himself not to scream 'I WANT TO TALK ABOUT US!' and figured that discussing the bank would be a good segue.

"Er, sure," Harrison cleared his throat. "I suppose there's nothing to do but jump right in, then… How do you both feel about what Griphook told us? Please don't just say 'fine by us' or anything. Real answers, from both of you."

"Well, I can't speak for my dear brother-oh wait, yes I can. I'm joking! I won't!" George smirked, hands up in mock surrender. "Honestly, I'm thrilled about it. I've known for a few years that Freddie and I have had a… well, a 'crush' just sounds juvenile, doesn't it? Either way, it's true. But for me, I'm glad that neither of us will be hurt by rejection. At least, I hope not."

"Freddie?" Harrison asked, sounding a bit worried.

"I fell in love with you on September first, nineteen ninety-one and I couldn't be happier."

Overwhelmed and unable to stop it, tears spilled down his face. " H-how are you able to share someone like that? With your brother, I mean. Does it really not bother you?" The question was for the pair, despite sounding otherwise.

They shook their heads. "Nope."

"How though?" He raked his fingers through his hair. "I truly don't understand how it doesn't upset you."

"You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach, that thing that says 'this is right, and it's mine?'" Fred asked, flexing his grip.

He nodded.

"So do we." They said in unison.

"There's no jealousy or anger. Just… contentment at knowing that we get to share the greatest gift that anyone has ever been given. If we can't share something that wonderful with the person closest to us, then I don't think we would deserve it."

"Well said, Freddie." George added, brushing his thumb over Harrison's tear-stained cheek.

After a while of just talking about nothing important, George decided to go check in on Lee and Heidi.

Around three, the two remaining people in the warded compartment heard the calls for the snack trolley. "So," Harrison said, attempting to climb off of Fred's lap. "D'you want any sweets?"

"You are the only sweet I need." Fred replied, and with that, he pulled his mate back into his lap. "And right now, I have a sudden vicious craving for something sweet."

"Do you, now?" Harrison prompted with a smirk. He had been going over the situation all throughout the holiday break, and if he was going to be honest, the prospect of having the twins as his own was becoming more and more appealing. To have someone(s) tailor made for you by magic itself was… incredible. And maybe a bit terrifying, but wonderful all the same.

Fred hummed his affirmation and leaned in slowly, allowing for Harrison to back away if needed, and traced the smooth jawline with his thumb. "I know that I already said it, but I really do love you."

Harrison, while appreciating the opportunity to refuse, pounced. He crashed their mouths together with a shocking ferocity.

After a while, they both needed air and finally broke the kiss, panting heavily. When they were eventually able to breathe again, Fred pulled him close for another kiss. It was more tender and slow, though it was just as indescribably wonderful as the last.

"I love you too," Harrison breathed, feeling dazedly euphoric.

Fred had to keep himself from laughing as his mate fell asleep in his arms.

"Oh, see," George pouted, a bit later. "That's just not fair."

Fred rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Don't give me that look," George scoffed. "I leave you two alone for an hour, and you've already made your move! At least now I know what Sirius meant that day at the bank."

"What's that?" Fred asked curiously.

"The power surge." Came the easy reply, as he flopped down on the padded bench across from them. "A few minutes after I left, there was a surge and a dim glow. When the glow vanished, everything looked better. All the upholstery was mended, the paint was brighter, chips in the woodwork filled in. Merlin, even the muck that gets caught in the window panels were cleaned."

"You're kidding?" Fred asked, surprised. He looked around, not having noticed any major changes. Taking in the small space, he discovered that his twin was right. Even the carpets looked brand new. How did he miss that? "All that from one kiss?"

George's eyes widened. "That's all you did?"

"Merlin, Georgie! What do you take me for?" Fred asked, the slightest bit offended.

"'Parently a perv," Harrison yawned, Fred's outburst having startled him awake. "'S okay. He's pro-" he cut himself off to yawn again. "Probably jealous."

Fred chuckled in amusement, while George blushed faintly.

Harrison rubbed the sleep from his eyes tiredly. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head," George smirked. "I was barely gone an hour, so not very long."

"M'kay," he mumbled. "Come over here so I can go back to sleep."

Sighing in faux annoyance, he complied, taking a seat next to his brother.

They scooted apart a bit so that he could lay his head on George's lap and prop his legs on Fred's. Within seconds, Harrison slipped into the arms of Morpheus.

--

This was it, Harrison mused as he stood.

Most people hadn't noticed that he'd moved, but a bunch of his housemates did, as well as a few people from other houses that had been facing his general direction. Draco, he noted, was smirking and subtly getting his friends' attention to watch the spectacle of what was about to happen.

"Headmaster," Harrison said, backing a step or two away from the table. Making his way slowly toward the high table, he made sure that he was slowly gaining attention from his fellow students. "I would like to formally request a re-sort."

Much of the staff were shocked, but as Dumblefuck still had no translating cuff, he merely blinked.

"He's asking for a re-sort." McGonagall relayed, hurt that her favored lion didn't want to be in her House anymore.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but I cannot go against the Sorting Hat. It does, after all, know best." Dumbledore said gently, his eyes twinkling like mad.

Harrison forced himself not to smirk, and brought a copy of the school handbook to the high table. He had highlighted the passage needed months ago. "Simply put, Headmaster, when a student is made unwelcome in their House, it is perfectly acceptable to request a re-sort. Particularly when bias is involved. It has been made clear that I am not wanted in the Lion's den as many of my current housemates believe me to be dark because of something that I have no control over."

Some of the professors looked uncomfortable as professor McGonagall translated his words.

"My boy, this is surely a small misunderstanding. We can talk more about this in my office after the feast, yes?"

Harrison shook his head. "No, sir. I'd rather this be dealt with now."He needed this to be public, otherwise, there was no telling what the old bastard would do.

Again, his HoH relayed his words.

"Well then, if that is your desire, I see no need to deny you." Dumbledore said kindly, though the undercurrents of disappointment were palpable.

It took everything Harrison had not to roll his eyes.

"So long as you understand that once this is done, it cannot be undone. Should the Hat decide that you do not need to be re-sorted after all, you'll not be able to make this request again."

He gave a firm nod and summoned the sorting hat, making sure to use his wand and make it look the tiniest bit difficult. Less than ten seconds later, the Hat settled gently in his palm.

"So, are you finally going to let me do my job, Mr. Potter?" The Hat asked snarkily.

Harrison wasn't bothered by this at all. Ever since his first year, every time he saw the Hat, it tried very hard to put him in his proper house, and several years later, it would finally get the chance. "Ready when you are," he replied casually.

Much like Draco's sorting, the Hat took no time at all to shout out "SLYTHERIN!" but he did ask that they chat for a moment.

"What can I help you with?" He thought to the Hat.

"So, you finally got all the pieces together, eh, Mister Snape?"

He smiled. "Yep. Took me long enough, didn't it?"

"I'll say. But, it's nice to get to know you without half of yourself wrapped in all those magics."

"Why, thank you," he snorted. "At this point, you probably know me better than I do."

"You're not wrong there."

"How about you start shouting a bit?" He thought quickly about some of the things he wanted the Hat to say.

"I see... Very well." The Hat took a second to gear himself up properly. "I HAVE BEEN AFTER YOU FOR FIVE YEARS TO DO THIS! YOUR COURAGE KNOWS NO BOUNDS, BUT I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU TO LET ME PUT YOU IN YOUR RIGHTFUL HOUSE EVERY TIME WE'VE SPOKEN! INSTEAD, YOU'VE BEEN LISTENING TO PREJUDICIAL SLURS FROM EVERYONE AROUND YOU! THIS IS A DISGRACE! BECAUSE OF FEAR, THERE ARE NEARLY A DOZEN MIS-SORTED STUDENTS IN THIS SCHOOL! I KNOW MY JOB, AND IT'S TIME YOU ALL KNEW YOUR PLACES! I WILL BE-"

"That's enough!" Dumbledore said loudly. "Your job is done and you will be returned to my office imm-"

"OH, NO YOU DON'T! I'M DOING THIS NOW! WEASLEY TWINS, HERMIONE GRANGER, CHO CHANG, GINEVRA WEASLEY, NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM, HOWARD JIGGER, CREEVY BROTHERS. ALL OF YOU, FRONT AND CENTER!"

Dead silence.

Most of the students mentioned began to rise, except Hermione, Ginny and Jigger, who appeared to be the only first year.

"All students report to their dormitories immediately!" Dumbledore shouted, pointing his wand at the Hat, still perched on Harrison's head.

It was hard for anyone to tell that the Headmaster was aiming for the Hat, and not Harrison, so there were a lot of shocked faces.

Harrison knew perfectly well that the wand was not pointed at him, but made a show of being nervous and slowly raised his hands in surrender.

The staff began shouting at their boss, trying to make him stop brandishing his wand at students, but the look on his face cowed most of them.

Umbridge in particular looked positively gleeful. She moved her plate aside and started penning a letter, grinning all the while.

Finally remembering that he was a wizard, Professor Snape disarmed the Headmaster. "How dare you turn your wand on an unarmed person? And a student, no less!"

Dumbledore, realizing what he had done, blinked in shock. "Everyone to their dorms," he said, this time much more quietly, before sinking back into his chair.

Harrison lowered his arms and made his way to the twins. "Thank everyone for me, and watch Granger and your siblings. I have a feeling that we'll want to watch the memories later."

They smirked at him.

As much as he hated being apart from them, this was for the best.

To the astonishment of the entire school, and most of the staff, Harrison was enveloped quickly in a sea of green and silver. What's more, they all saw Malfoy clap him on the shoulder and lead the group out of the Great Hall.

"Albus," McGonagall whispered, staring at the spectacle. "What have you done?"

"So, who did it?" Ron demanded when everyone finally settled into the Gryffindor common room. "Who made him switch? He's supposed to be a Gryff!"

It didn't matter what they said or did now, because Dumbles was right. There was no way to change houses for a second time.

"We all did," George said simply.

"Including you." Fred finished, crossing his arms behind his head.

"What?" Hermione shouted. "We never-"

"Did anything to stop it." Someone interrupted her.

"This isn't right," Ginny whined quietly so that only the Twins could hear her. "I can't be seen dating a Slytherin. What will this do to my reputation?"

George scoffed, completely repulsed by his sister.

Meanwhile, Fred was still unable to figure out how to feel. He'd always known that her, Ron and their mum had always wanted things they felt that they were entitled to, but never worked for them. He was pissed off that they thought the family wasn't good enough for them, moreso recently. He felt the slightest bit of guilt knowing that he'd had a few moments of jealousy at other people's new things like them. He was relieved knowing that he had grown out of it. Confused as to why they couldn't seem to. Horrified and sickened at the lengths they were going to get what they wrongly thought they deserved. Also, and this was what scared him most, was the murderous hatred he felt knowing who their target was. They were trying to take advantage of his soulmate. This was the first time Fred had ever really considered murder in his life, and that terrified him, even if he knew that he would never bring himself to do it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked scathingly.

"Yeah! We're his best friends!" Ron said loudly.

Ginny stayed silent for once. What was she going to do? Harry Potter or not, she couldn't be seen with a stupid Slytherin! They were all dark! Hers was the perfect light family! Her own father worked in some muggle branch of the ministry! Well, he used to. She couldn't be married to someone connected to dark magic! It would shame her family. She'd be disowned! But... did it really matter? This marriage was exactly what she needed to finally get everything she deserved. Did her family matter more than that? More than being the wealthiest witch in all of Europe, if not the world? More than having everyone fawning and scraping before her? More widely known than the muggle Royal family? Oh wow. She would be more famous than the muggle queen. No one would ever second guess her. No one would ever make her wait. No one would even remember her family then. Only the one she made with Harry. They would be as important as she was, and the Weasley's would be forgotten. Oh, sure, they'd be elevated for a time, but the public would forget them soon enough. When she finally married Harry, which would have to be before the end of summer because of the baby, Harry would be legally considered an adult, and so would she. It would be better if she could make him marry her before she began to show. There was no way that she wanted to be fat in her wedding photos... Unless it endeared her to the public more. No, she had already chosen her wedding gown. It was a muggle gown, and too form-fitting to have a baby bump. Besides, that day was about her, not some stupid baby. On the plus side, her mother had told her that being pregnant would make her boobs bigger. It would make her look older than some silly fourteen year old girl. No, she would be a breathtaking woman on her wedding day. Who cares if he's a Slytherin? This was her right, and she wouldn't let it go without a fight.

She could change him.

As the rest of her house argued, Ginny stood with her head held high. "No matter what House Harry is in, he is still the Chosen One, and he deserves respect." With that, she walked out of the room with as much grace and dignity as she could manage. It would have been more impressive if she were wearing heels, but it didn't matter. Soon she would have everything she could ever want, and none of them would ever come close. These people were beneath her and she knew it.

Snuggling into her bed, she looked down at her perfectly flat stomach with a smirk. "You're my ticket to the world." She said with satisfaction as she fell into blissful sleep.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, I'm almost out of prewritten material. This might affect my posting days, but I will do my damndest to keep that from happening! Thanks for sticking with the story!

Chapter 22

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

As Harrison stepped through the portrait leading to his new home, many of his new housemates dropped their unity act. It didn't bother him though. If it really were that easy, he'd have been appalled. He would have to work toward their acceptance, and he didn't mind. They weren't as fickle in their loyalties as most.

"Let's hear it then," a seventh year girl said flatly. "Why is the Gryffindor Golden Boy hiding out in the Snake Pit? Getting tired of only having the other three Houses kissing your robes? Now you want Slytherin too?"

Most of the Slytherins laughed.

"I have no intention of making anyone kiss my robes," Harrison replied calmly. "Do you have any idea what people put into their mouths? I'd rather not be forced to wear it."

Draco snorted, relaxing into a leather armchair as he translated his brothers' words. "Hey," he said with a casual nod toward the door.

"You could have told me you were planning this for tonight, you know." Severus sighed. "I thought you were going to wait until the next break?"

"When did I say that?" Harrison asked, honestly confused. "I've been planning this since the beginning of the school year. Why wait several more months?"

"How are we supposed to live with The Prat That Doesn't Die?" Someone asked from the back.

The cold, murderous look from Professor Snape was enough to stop the murmurs of agreement from around the room. Shamed silence fell.

"That is enough." Snape glared around the common room, but managed to speak calmly and softly. That did nothing to keep his voice from carrying to every Slytherin. "In this House, you pride yourselves on ambition and cunning. Yet, in this moment, I find myself questioning whether or not a single one of you possess any."

"Really," Draco agreed with an eye roll. "You want to keep up petty rivalries with the closest person that the Wizarding world has to royalty? The one with the most political sway in the history of the Wizengamot?"

"Why?" Pansy Parkinson sneered. "Because he's 'The Chosen One'?"

"You don't really think that my placement here was an accident?" Harrison asked incredulously. "Professor, I was under the assumption that your snakes were smarter than that."

While Draco parroted his words in English, Severus sighed. "Apparently, I was under the same misguided impression."

"Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to burst your bubble."

He snorted. "Perhaps treating them as adults was not the best course of action."

Harrison shrugged.

"To answer your original question, Mr. Warrington, you will reside with Mr. Potter as you would with any other Slytherin." The professor informed them all.

"What a warm welcome," Harrison said cheekily, rolling his eyes. "I can really feel the love."

"If that's what you wanted, I know of a matching set of red- Oof!"

Harrison knew where Draco was going, and to stop him, he jumped on his brother and covered the blond's face with a pillow.

Several people let out shocked cries and even more whipped out their wands, ready to defend the Prince of Slytherin from the surprise attack.

Draco was swatting at Harrison and trying to spit out the fuzzies that were now on his tongue.

"A simple silencio would have sufficed, Mr. Potter." Professor Snape said with a tiny hint of amusement.

Harrison shrugged from his place on his brother. "This was more fun." He looked around at his new housemates. "So that's what it looks like. House unity. Good to know."

"Prat," Draco said, picking the fuzzies off his tongue.

The entire house, sans his father and brother, were hiding their whispers less and less.

"Professor," Harrison asked. "Who in this house is not trustworthy? They'll need to leave the room. Oh, and the ones that haven't mastered Occlumency." Something they had discussed over break was that all purebloods, and many halfbloods were schooled in the basics of the mind arts long before attending Hogwarts. The basics didn't necessarily mean that they could fight off a reasonably skilled Legillimens. He wouldn't-couldn't risk having the House know of his secrets until he was sure that there was no way for the Headmaster to take what information he wanted. It was too dangerous.

Without skipping a beat, Severus dismissed nine students. Only two of them were deemed untrustworthy. He sent them on errands as an excuse.

Harrison took his brother's cuff and started muttering various things in Latin. After a minute or so, he stopped and placed the now circular ring on the coffee table. He mimed Severus taking his own off.

The man lifted a brow, but did as requested.

"Now," Harrison said to the room. As expected, the cuff let out a bland sounding voice, but it translated nonetheless, at full volume. "You can all understand me." As soon as he finished hissing, the voice repeated his words in English.

There were more than a few surprised faces.

"Merlin, Draco, why didn't you tell me how strange that sounds?"

He smirked. "Oh, dear brother, has it changed? Did you not always sound like that?"

"You're such a git. Has no one ever told you that? Well, besides me."

"Boys," Severus said, a hint of warning lacing his words.

"Sorry, father." Draco said immediately, at the same time Harrison said, "Sorry, Severus."

That certainly got the attention of everyone in the House. No one was trying to be quiet anymore. Conversations overlapped with others, making different groups speak louder to be heard.

"Silence!" Severus shouted over the cacophony.

Harrison could have heard a pin drop. He was impressed.

"If you would, please." Severus said, gesturing to his younger son to get things moving.

"Of course," he said pleasantly. "Alright, we don't have much time, so I'm going to speak for a few minutes, then you can ask questions. Don't interrupt, or this will take a lot longer."

There were several reluctant nods after they looked to their Head for confirmation.

"Good. Let's dive right in, shall we?" Harrison made himself more comfortable next to Draco. "My name is Harrison Potter Snape, Heir of Hogwarts, and I'm going to destroy Albus Dumbledore."

"And you say I have a flair for the dramatic." Draco snorted.

Before he could say another word, there was a loud rumbling and a massive door appeared on an empty wall.

"What the hell was that?" He asked his father...

Who was less than impressed. "Mind your tongue, brat." But he had no idea what the door was, why it had popped up, or how. He had never seen it before. As the Head of Slytherin, he was under the impression that he knew of all of the secret passages in and around the dorms.

Every eye in the room was locked on the new door. It was at least four meters tall and had strange swirling marks above the frame.

Again, he tried to speak, only this time, an unformed patronus glided into the room.

"All Heads of House," the disembodied voice of Albus Dumbledore said. "Come to my office at once."

Severus sighed, but left with instructions not to kill each other.

Harrison laughed. "Of course the leader of the light can't cast a proper patronus. Pathetic."

"Oh, and you can?" One older boy sneered.

Deciding that a power play was necessary to make them think twice, he cast a wandless wordless patronus. In place of his usual stag was a life-sized basilisk. It was difficult to tell how long it was, as it was mostly coiled, but was still looming over their heads. Coil excluded, the figure was at least twenty feet high.

He smiled, masking his own shock. Patroni as a general rule, were not able to take the shape of magical animals. How was this possible?

"Master," it hissed, bowing it's large head in submission.

This time, he couldn't hide his astonishment. Nor, it seemed, could anyone else. Every jaw in the room dropped open.

"How are you speaking?" Harrison asked it. "Patronuses don't speak."

"It takes great power, young Master." It explained. "Patronuses are linked to the power levels of our masters. As such, I have many forms. Much the same as yourself."

"What do you mean, many forms? How can you have more than one?"

"I can take any animalistic form that you can, by means of animagery."

"Show me," he said immediately. "Please."

The basilisk nods and shimmers into a phoenix. Then an acromantula. Then a large wolf. Then his original stag. Then the same strange bird that he'd borrowed off of Luna. A kitsune with two tails. A hippogryff. A badger. An eagle. A lion. And finally, it turned back into the basilisk.

"Holy shit."

"As Heir to Hogwarts, their representative creatures have been gifted to you."

"Holy shit." He said again, unable to think of anything else to say.

"When you heal your injuries fully, we will be able to speak in any tongue that you speak. Until then, we cannot speak in your human tongue, as you cannot."

"You think I'll be able to heal that? Even the goblin healers couldn't."

"Their magic is not suited, young Master. You must do so yourself."

Harrison was at a loss for words.

Draco wasn't. He elbowed his brother lightly, remembering the day he'd been told about Harrison's occasional panic attacks. "So, what did it say? That thing only translates you, not... that."

"If you wish, you may gift your brother the ability to understand parseltongue. As your magic is best without a wand, place your hands over his ears, focus on sharing your gift, then say 'Hear Me.' This gift may only be shared one way, and only to those with which you share blood, and your mates."

One way? So he'd be able to hear it, but not speak it. That didn't matter because Harrison obviously knew English.

This was incredible. But, he had to prioritize.

"I will summon you back at a later time. Thank you for your information."

The great serpent bowed again before Harrison let go of the spell.

"Now that that is taken care of," he began awkwardly. "I'll make this quick. Questions will be pushed until tomorrow, but for now, I'll stick to the basics. As I told you, my name is Harrison Snape. Professor Snape is my father, along with Lucius Malfoy. Draco is my brother. Albus Dumbledore has arranged and manipulated every aspect of my life, beginning before my birth. I was magically torn from Professor Snape, and was borne by Lilyana Snape-Malfoy, who was forced into an illegal sham of a marriage to James Potter. The Dark Lord is my uncle in all but blood. As many of you likely know, there is a branch of magic, labelled as black. Mere dark magic cannot do the things that Dumbledore has done. This particular magic was used to bind magical cores, obliterate lives, and leech magic from the target to the caster. Combine all of these with massive amounts of magic to alter a persons' mind, their magic, and their memories. By the time all of these things were removed from my person, I fell into a coma. Which is exactly where the Dark Lord is, at this very moment, going through the exact same purge. My entire family, aside from Draco, was given the same treatment, though the damage was not nearly as extensive. I'm getting off track. The night that James Potter died, I was immediately shipped off to violent muggles who did not appreciate magic. Dumbledore stole from me to pay them to keep me 'in line' with what he wanted. He has lied about everything that the dark stands for, and I won't have it any longer. That being said, when the Dark Lord is at full health once again, I will be assisting him.

"This can be further discussed at a later time, but for tonight, that's all. The students that the professor sent away will be back in a few moments, and none of you will repeat what you have been told. You can try, but it will do you no good." Harrison had wrapped it up when he felt the students enter the dungeons. He didn't understand how or why he knew what the strange feeling was, but sure enough, four of the nine students chose that moment to walk through the portrait hole. Within a few minutes, he felt the dungeon wards once more. The remainder of the missing Slytherins were followed quickly by his father.

Harrison was getting a headache.

"What's that?" A couple of the younger students asked, eyes wide, indicating the new door.

"Something I will be investigating after all Slytherins have gone to bed." Severus said pointedly.

Astonishingly, there were no verbal complaints, and only a few seemed upset, but they all listened to the man without any kind of hesitation.

Magic be damned, that was power.

"Master!" came the voice from Harrison's robe pocket.

"Hey, Xiahou," he replied, pulling the meter-long snake from his little nest. "What's wrong?"

"Is this your dungeon home?" Xiahou did not sound pleased.

"It is," he said with a nod to his beloved Christmas gift from his favorite godmother.

"Cold and damp. This is unacceptable. You will live somewhere else."

"Don't worry, Xia. In a few minutes, you'll have a toasty warm place to sleep, okay?"

"Fine," she grumbled. "But in the meantime, cast more heat into your pouch so I can go back to sleep until then."

He rolled his eyes, but did as asked. "I get it now. Slytherins are so high-maintenance because snakes are."

Originally, Harrison was fully prepared to share a dorm with his year-mates, but since the new room popped up... Well, waste not, want not.

"Severus?" He called out to the man that was currently passing his wand over the door in several patterns. "That room isn't evil. It's mine. Right at the top, it says it's mine. Did you really not notice?" He stifled the urge to laugh at his uncharacteristic oversight.

Pulling away from his work, Severus looked around the door, but found nothing. "What do you mean, Harrison. There is nothing written anywhere."

"Oh!" Harrison felt stupid. "It must be written in Parsel. Above the door, it says 'Lord Slytherin's Refuge'."

All Severus saw were strange looping wiggles. "Well, that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why the Headmaster wanted all of the House Heads." Severus mused. "Apparently, there was a surge of magic when this door appeared. There are similar ones in all of the common rooms, as well as a few changes I noticed on my way to his office."

Harrison was confused. "What changes? And why did the doors crop up?"

"I can't be sure, but when you announced that you were the Heir of Hogwarts, you changed something. The Headmaster is in a panic because he no longer has access to the school's internal wards. He has also been denied entry to his own quarters. Both he and Filius are attempting to fix the problem, but I have no idea if it will work."

That likely explains the headache. "Oh, I wish they would stop."

"Harrison?" Severus was concerned.

"They're attacking the wards more and more heavily. It feels like someone just hit me in the back of the head with a beater's bat." He winced at a fresh wave of pain. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Make them stop!"

Immediately, the pain decreased by half.

Blinking back tears, Harrison was able to right himself.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked, subtly making sure that his son could see him approach, and gently touched his back.

"Yeah, I think so," he said, rubbing the spot the phantom beaters bats had been bludgeoning. For a second, Harrison went still.

To the shock of his father, he burst out laughing. Severus, worrying momentarily for his son's sanity, spoke cautiously. "Harrison? Are you alright?"

"I'm bloody fantastic!" Harrison said, astounded. "I've figured out how the old bastard finds things out in the school."

Eventually, the slightly distant look in his son's eyes faded. "What have you learned?"

"He's able to connect with the portraits of the previous Headmasters. They can move to certain other frames around the bloody castle! Not all of them, mind you, but in some very useful places. I feel the connection, but he doesn't. I've taken over the link somehow."

"That is quite advantageous," Severus mused, his mind whirring with the possibilities of this boon.

Harrison grinned. "I also now control the gargoyle outside his office, as well as the portrait to his personal rooms. His password needs changing, I think. Any suggestions?"

"Not particularly." Severus shrugged, too pleased to care. "Make it something humiliating."

"Try this one," Draco smirked, whispering in his brother's ear.

"You do realize that I have to say his password, then the new one out loud to change it, right?" Harrison blushed faintly.

Severus smirked. "If you have trouble saying it aloud, in my presence, it's probably a good idea."

Blush deepening, Harrison hesitated, but only for a second. "Toffee biscuits. Password change to… Spank me, Big Daddy."

With a boisterous laugh, the professor led them to explore Harrison's new bedroom. Naturally, he went in first. "This is gorgeous."

Out of the two, Draco was much more excited and hurried to their father's side, Harrison following at a more sedate pace.

As Severus said, it was indeed a lovely room. The ceiling was about fifteen meters high, with dark wood arches and was bewitched to look like the sky, much like the Great Hall. The walls were done in emerald and the floors were done in a single, massive piece of what looked like black volcanic glass. There was a huge fireplace made of onyx colored marble with dark gray and white throughout. A bed that could hold at least six fully grown adults dominated the room, with black satin bedding, covered by a silver down comforter with black and emerald embroidered filigree. Off to the left, there were two bookcases that went the entire way up to the arches on the ceiling, and every available space was filled with hundreds of books that left both Severus and Harrison practically drooling. Between the bookshelves and the fireplace was a large mahogany desk, still strewn with ink bottles, rolls of parchment, quills of varying usability, and even a couple of books, one of which was still open. There was also a half empty cup of tea. It was steaming.

"The entire room has been under a stasis charm." Harrison said incredulously. "For a charm to last over a thousand years… unbelievable."

"Accio, ear cuff," Draco said distractedly, waving his wand.

When the cuff whizzed through the air, Harrison redirected it and made his way back toward his brother. He placed his hands over Draco's ears, like the patronus instructed. "Hear me." Stepping back, he looked at his brother, who winced.

"What the hell did you just do?" He demanded, rubbing his temples, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry," Harrison supplied with an apologetic shrug, then turned to do the same to Severus, who backed away at his son's obvious pain.

Rolling his eyes, Harrison sighed. "Draco, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you, you bloody-oh!" He stopped, realizing that he heard English without the aid of the cuff. "Hey, you don't sound odd anymore. It's your normal voice."

"Oh, would you look at that," Harrison snorted sarcastically. "Now, tell Severus to stop being a git and let me do the same to him."

With a snicker, he relayed the message.

That done, he shooed them out and got ready for bed.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, that's all for my prewritten stuff! I have no more! Don't worry, though. I'm still writing, but my chapters have finally caught up with me. This may (hopefully not) interfere with my posting days, but I'm going to do my best to keep that from happening. Thanks for sticking around as long as you have, and show some love in the comments.

Chapter 23

Chapter Notes

Warning there is some nastiness at the very end of this chapter! It isn't really graphic but it's still gross. If you want to skip it, go ahead, there are spoilers in the comments.

"What do we do now, Albus?" Minerva asked worriedly. "With you being locked out of the Headmasters' rooms, how will-"

"Thank you, Minerva," said the wizened wizard. "For all of your help. That will be all, I think, for tonight."

She hesitated, but eventually left him to pace the halls alone.

For a while, he grumbled and complained in a low tone, walking back and forth in front of his office, all the while wondering what had happened.

Sometime around eleven, one of the portraits cleared it's throat. "Headmaster? Are you still there?"

Dumbledore whirled around, wand tightly fisted in his robes. He hadn't felt anyone draw near, which was one of the most useful abilities given to all of the Headmasters and Headmistresses, but he could no longer feel any of the connections that he had become so accustomed to over the long years.

"Headmaster, it's Phineas." Came the voice.

Breathing a muted sigh of relief, Dumbledore hastened further down the corridor to where he knew the painting of a Roman bath house to be. It was one of Phineas' favorite frames to visit. Oftentimes, he stayed in the background to keep an eye on things, then would slide back into his main frame in the Headmasters office.

"What can I do for you, Phineas?" He asked tiredly. This Merlin forsaken day just needed to end.

"Well, I see you've noticed the password change." Phineas said, trying to mask his internal glee.

"I have," he replied calmly, wanting desperately to burn the portrait.

"And that the override password isn't working?" The painting wondered how many colors he could make the ordinarily rainbow-like Headmaster turn. He was already working on red, but it was too subtle for Phineas' taste. Purple might be nice. It would go splendidly with his magenta and silver robes.

"Do you know who has tampered with it? Or how it was done?"

"Nope!" Ooh, the red was becoming a bit darker now. Of course he knew! He wasn't a Black for no reason, after all! They had all felt the transfer of power a couple of hours ago, but none of them wanted to make things any easier on him. Phineas was thrilled when he felt the wash of such powerful magic, and was thrilled to no end when he recognized one of his own blood had taken up the mantle. He was also glad that they would no longer be forced to only speak the truth to the old goat, but the old goat didn't know that!

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.

"I see." Dumbledore sighed. "I don't suppose you know the new password, then, old friend?"

Friend? DON'T LAUGH. DON'T LAUGH. DON'T LAUGH! "Actually, old chum, I do! Don't know how to change it back, of course…"

"Well?!" Dumbledore was well on his way to that shade of purple!

Phineas raised his painted eyebrows, as though surprised by the sudden hostility. "Alright, alright, but come close."

With a hasty nod, Albus moved forward until he was less than a foot from the painting.

"The new password is SPANK ME BIG DADDY!" He finished with a shout.

Dumbledore stumbled back in surprise.

Several of the surrounding portraits were tittering, but some were laughing outright.

"My apologies, old chum." Phineas said with mock sincerity. "It has to be shouted. There's something wrong with the gargoyle's hearing, apparently. Perhaps an ear trumpet for the poor thing? It is, after all, more than a thousand years old."

"You can't be serious?!" He demanded, no longer hiding his displeasure.

"Of course not!" Phineas made sure to sound offended by the very idea. When the Headmaster's face visibly relaxed, he pounced. "He's my great grandson! I'm Phineas!" Purple! He's purple! Yes! He felt like cheering.

"This is hardly the time for jokes, Black!" He spat.

"You're absolutely right, Albus. Again, I apologize. The password is right in any case. Goodnight, Headmaster." With that, Phineas went back to his original portrait.

Fuming, Dumbledore went up to the gargoyle and whispered the password. Much to his fury, the gargoyle did indeed cup his clawed stone hand to his ear. It was ridiculous! It was a statue for Merlin's sake! The damned thing doesn't even have proper ears!

In the end, the furious Headmaster yelled out the password so loudly that it actually startled every portrait in the corridor, as well as Peeves, who just happened to be floating by, on his way to harass the Fat Friar.

Having been gently woken by a mental prod from Phineas, Harrison viewed the spectacle with glee before drifting off back to sleep with a wide smile on his face.

--

The next morning dawned bright and blustery, nearly a foot of fresh powder having fallen in the night.

In the Great Hall, most of the students were enjoying the sumptuous meal laid out by the house elves, the majority of the hushed conversations being about the goings on of the night before.

By the time the owls were set to deliver the morning post, most of the students had finally made their way down to breakfast.

Out of the fray, a nondescript brown barn owl dropped a narrow scroll tied with a simple piece of twine, onto Hermione's wheat toast.

Miss Granger,
Would you be so kind as to accompany myself on the seventh floor, by the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy during your free period? I should like you to bring your young companions as well.
A.P.W.B.D.

Hermione didn't look up from the note, but did nod once then tuck into her pocket.

Across the Hall, the Slytherins were enjoying a wide selection of fruit and various healthy options.

"So, brother, how was your night in your new quarters?" Draco asked pleasantly, pulling a teapot close. He held it up in silent question.

Harrison grimaced, looking around for his coffee. Upon realizing it wasn't anywhere at the table, he frowned. "My night was just fine, dear brother. In fact, I connected to one of the previous Headmaster's portraits and was delighted to watch old Dumbledork scream at the gargoyle to spank him." He was whispering, still craning his neck distractedly.

"He screamed it?" Draco barely held onto his mask. "Why on Earth would he do that?"

"I may or may not have charmed the gargoyle to go nearly deaf anytime he gets to that corridor."

Draco choked on his tea, spraying poor Theo and Pansy in the process, while Harrison just shook in quiet laughter, giving up finding his carafe.

Severus shot them a look from his place at the staff table and his blond son pointed at his twin as he covered the lower half of his face with a cloth napkin. Harrison just smirked, after making sure that none of the staff was watching.

"What the hell was that, Draco?" Theo asked, annoyed at having to dry his robes.

"Ugh, Weasels incoming." Pansy sneered. "What do they think they're doing?"

With a quick glance, Harrison saw his favorite people and hissed at Pansy. No words, just a hiss.

"Budge up," Draco said easily to Blaise, and they scooted down a bit.

"Hello, Harrikins!" They said cheerfully, taking seats on either side of their younger mate.

"Seems the house elves didn't get the memo-" George began.

"About your new House, so-" Fred continued, taking a piece of toast off Harrison's plate while George did the same to Draco.

"This was delivered to us by mistake." George showed the painted carafe and filled Harrison's cup after enlarging it twice.

"Have I ever told you how fantastic you are?" Harrison asked, making grabby hands.

"Not today," he replied cheekily.

"In that case, maybe I'll tell you later."

"Harry!" Ron called out, halfway to the table, looking disgustedly at every Slytherin he passed.

Harrison groaned quietly.

"Still playing nice?" Fred asked.

"Yep. Will you ask what the hell he wants?"

A few of the nearby snakes were surprised, but made no outward show.

"What's up?" Fred asked his youngest brother.

"Can we talk, Harry?" Ron began awkwardly. "You know, alone?"

"I'm afraid that will be impossible at the moment, Mr. Weasley." Severus said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "As it happens, Mr. Potter has a detention with me, immediately following breakfast."

"For what?" Ron demanded angrily. "We've only just got back! And it's Sunday!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for talking back, and another five for questioning my authority." Severus said coldly.

In the little time they had gotten to spend together, Harrison came to realize that while his father was a stern man, he also had a playful side, and when he was with his husband, a very affectionate side.

Harrison held up his hands faux bewilderment. 'Later,' he mouthed apologetically.

"Yeah, alright," Ron grumbled. "I s'pose I'll see you later, then."

Harrison waved, hiding his excitement at his so-called 'friends' retreat. He sighed, looking between Fred and George. "Why does it still hurt, even after all these months?"

Draco and Severus looked a bit sad at that, but snapped their masks into place quickly. Maybe it was hereditary, because Harrison forced himself to do the same.

The twins wrapped him in one armed hugs and rested their heads on his shoulders. "Do you really have detention or is the professor just trying to help you out?" George wondered aloud, sure that he wasn't overheard.

Twice Harrison opened his mouth, but he honestly had no idea.

"New schedule, Potter," Severus thrust a sheet of parchment at him. His voice dropped to a whisper. "The latter. I am sure you could think of a way to-"

"Got it," Fred said cheekily.

"So, do you want…?" George asked his brother.

"Nah, too messy. What about…"

"Too much damage."

"True, how about…?" Fred began thoughtfully.

"Simple and clean." George mused. "I like it."

Harrison rolled his eyes in amusement and sank into his coffee. "It's the first day back. You don't mean to tell me that you didn't already have something planned?"

"Oh, my dear Harrikins," Fred sighed with a smile.

"We have a dozen plans at a time."

"It's just figuring out which one will-"

"Suit our needs best-"

"At any given time!"

"We have a system."

"That's more like it," Harrison smiled. "So, your plan to get detention in the next two minutes?"

"Two minutes, he says!" George said, sounding hurt.

"Oh, ye of little faith-"

"WHO DID THIS?!" Came a shriek from the staff table.

Every eye in the Great Hall was immediately drawn to the massive, pepto-pink toad that was oozing some kind of foul smelling pus-like substance. The nearby professors were covering their noses with handkerchiefs and some with their sleeves. Poor professor Flitwick was in the seat to her left and was gagging, until Harrison subtly flicked his hand, casting a bubblehead charm to make sure the man could at least breathe clean air.

Draco's jaw dropped. "Exactly what part of that was simple and clean?"

Before either could reply, the potions Master assigned them each a week's worth of detention.

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, appearing repentant, though their eyes were alight with glee.

"So, what is our detention-" George began, plonking himself down on his usual stool.

"Going to entail, dearest Professor?" Fred finished as he slung his robe neatly over the work table.

"Scrubbing cauldrons?"

"With Umbridge's toothbrush, perhaps?"

"Hardly," Severus smirked. "Though it is an amusing thought. No, today you will be brewing. Harrison has told me that you have been running into problems with a certain creation that you will not allow him to assist you with."

Harrison was startled when he felt a flood of grief through the bond, but the twins' faces betrayed little.

"Erm," Fred paused, his smile faded. "That's alright, sir. I er, I think we might be scrapping that one."

George nodded slowly, failing to maintain his usual cheerfulness. "Yeah, there's not much of a market for it anyway."

"If you're sure," Severus said suspiciously, wondering what was going on with the duo.

"Yes, sir." They replied.

Tossing his own robe on top of Fred's and climbing onto George's lap, the raven haired boy pulled them close. "It was something for your dad, wasn't it? I remember his birthday is coming up."

George's head rested on his lover's shoulder and Fred gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah," Fred choked out. "We figured that with his fascination on all things muggle, that it would have been perfect."

"What was it?" Harrison asked gently, carding his fingers through George's hair.

Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Fred waited for his brother to explain.

"We did work it out," George said sadly. "A few hours before we left for Yule, actually. Used it even. The problem wasn't with the potion, but the runes needed to make it work. Couldn't get the right configuration. It-"

"How did you incorporate runes into a potion?" Severus asked curiously.

"Used it like paint." Fred supplied, swiping away a stray tear. "And used a brush made out of carefully collected centaur tail hairs. Firenze is pretty cool."

Jaw hanging, Severus stared at them. Coming to his senses, he shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs. "To what end?"

Seeming to be coming out of his funk, George lifted his head. "When you paint the runes around in just the right formation, all the ambient magic that's just drifting around gets absorbed. When it absorbs everything within the runes, what's left creates a barrier, not letting any more into the area. We figured out that muggle devices can be magically altered, and that the issues were with the ambient magic, not the focused magic. You see, if I were to put the right runes all around… say a gazebo-"

"Or a tool shed-" Fred cut in, less enthusiastically than his brother, but still with pride.

"Too true, oh, brilliant twin of mine." George smirked. "Anyway, when you paint the runes around a tool shed, all of the runes will glow until they turn into the barrier. Once that's done, put in any muggle ecr-eclectric-"

"Electric?" Harrison offered.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded. "Put in any muggle electric thing inside the barrier, and you can even cast magic on it, while in the barrier."

"We've levitated radios, made these odd little game things with screens power on with magic. They'll go a bit fuzzy for a few seconds until the residual magic is absorbed, but then it runs fine." George finished, feeling a bit better, having seen his professor's astonished reaction.

"That's incredible." Severus breathed. "I've never heard of such a thing. And you've perfected this method?"

Fred shrugged. "Wasn't that hard when we started using a bit of logic."

"Careful, Freddie," Harrison warned in a mock serious tone. "Wizards don't use logic. They have magic. Someone might think you're not the proper pureblood."

As one, the twins thrust a fist in the air, crying out, "Blood traitors!" before they all dissolved into laughter.

Harrison's eyes widened. "Shit!" He waved his hand and scrub brushes and two buckets of soapy water popped up and he jumped up. "Umbitch in thirty seconds. Severus, desk! George, pantry! Fred, tabletops, go!" He grabbed one of the brushes and the bucket and set to work on the floor, pushing his sleeves up as he moved.

Quickly springing into action, they immediately set out to complete their 'detentions'.

"And when you've finished that, Messrs Weasley," Severus droned, pretending he didn't know of the impending arrival of the Ministry Toad. "I expect four feet on improper uses of potions, as well as the possible side effects of giving such things to unsuspecting parties, due at the beginning of your Tuesday class. They will be done separately, and if there is even a hint of copying, I will be deducting seventy-five points... each."

"Yes, sir," they replied glumly.

"Madam Umbridge," Severus greeted. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you." She grinned evilly, though her tone was as sickeningly sweet as ever. "Seeing these beastly ruffians punished appropriately does my heart a world of good. How long will they be punished?"

"One week. They will be spending every night here, immediately following supper to curfew." Severus sneered. "I have, in my possession, a large array of ingredients that must be dissected properly, and in some cases, fermented and pickled. Oh, and let's not forget harvesting vast quantities of bobtuber pus, as I find myself running dangerously low."

None of them had to fake shudders for that.

"Very good." She said happily. "And what about Potter?"

To that, he was confused. "To my knowledge, he was not involved. I did, however, find him tracking mud in the corridors, so he is spending his evening scrubbing the floors."

--

After his third pass in front of the blank stretch of wall, Albus Dumbledore led the confused/astonished trio of Gryffindors through the newly materialized door into an exact replica of the Headmaster's office. The only difference that Hermione could see was that the candy dish on the large desk was empty of its usual lemon drops.

"Sit." The Headmaster said roughly. He hadn't slept well, not knowing the password to his bedroom, and slept in his desk chair. That was another thing. His magic was behaving strangely for several months now, and was erratic at best. For whatever reason, he hadn't been able to transfigure anything in his office into anything close to a bed. The most he'd been able to do was make his high backed chair's upholstery more plush. It did little.

The trio sat.

"Your tasks?" The Headmaster stared down Ron and Ginny.

Ginny beamed and Ron looked smug. "It worked!" She said happily.

"Like a charm," Ron agreed, thinking back on their Christmas time activities with a smirk.

Hermione stayed silent, not wanting to upset the Headmaster. She'd seen what could happen when he was upset.

"Up." The man said to Ginny.

The redhead stood promptly, with pride.

Pointing his wand at the girl, he muttered something in Latin. For a moment nothing happened, but eventually there was a soft orange glow around her midsection. "Good. You'll need to move quickly now."

"Okay, but how do we get him to sleep with me?" Ginny asked with a whine.

Merlin, he hated his kids. They were both such whiny little shits.

"He's been potioned several times, but it never seems to last long enough to move forward." Hermione said dejectedly. What were they going to do?

The Headmaster barely stifled a groan. Wasn't she supposed to be the smart one? "Stun him, give him an aphrodisiac, then let nature take its course. You and Ronald will need to witness their coupling to make sure things go as planned. Being so early on, a week or so will make no difference for when the symptoms begin to present themselves."

Ginny nodded seriously. "We'll get him close to the dungeons. There are plenty of empty classrooms on that floor so the chances of us being seen are pretty slim."

"I don't want to watch that!" Ron cried out indignantly, his tell tale ears turning red.

Dumbledore groaned softly. "Oh, do shut up, Ronald."

"Sorry, dad." Ron mumbled sadly.

"Just go," he replied, already exasperated with his kids. "Miss Granger, stay behind."

Silently they left. (A/N: minor squick warning )

Hermione smiled up at the Headmaster. "Would you like the first payment now or later?"

In response, the man leaned back in his chair, letting his legs fall open. Oh, the stupidity of the young, he thought happily. Giving her the standard manila envelopes every week since her first year was a marvelous way to keep the stresses of daily life at bay, especially when she was always so eager to repay him. She begged so prettily. And the games! He didn't know where she learned such things, but he was certainly not complaining.

Within seconds, the only sounds were slapping flesh and Hermione's cries for more.

Chapter 24

Chapter Notes

Warning! Attempted non con! Harrison goes through some shit, and it will get worse before it gets better!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Harrison and his twins were meeting up with their Gryffindor group of confidantes in their common room. The map had been checked several times, and Harrison had his cloak folded neatly in his pocket just in case.

They did want to talk to their friends, but more importantly, Harrison wanted to see what room cropped up in the Gryph domain. He wondered if it was as impressive as his new bedroom in Slytherin territory.

"Nev," Harrison greeted. "Can I have your cuff?"

"Er, yeah?" Neville wriggled it off and dropped the small semi circle in his hand.

Last night in the Slytherin dorms, Harrison wasn't even sure it would work, and was just as surprised as everyone else when it did. Again, he sat the ring on the centermost coffee table so that they would all have enough nearby seats to listen, and began hissing in Latin.

"Hey, everyone!" He said cheerfully. As predicted, it was only a second or so behind, but did its job regardless.

The shocked/fascinated reactions were just as amusing as before.

"How did you do that?" Lee asked, staring at the ring with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Harrison shrugged nonchalantly. "Magic is a wonderful thing, isn't it?"

There were a few scattered chuckles.

"Okay, okay," he said, waving them down. "First thing's first. There's a room that cropped up last night, right? Well, a few, but I meant the one in here. Where is it?"

"It's off the first year boys dorm, but a bunch of us tried to get in and couldn't." Pavarti said glumly. "Even McGonagall couldn't get it to open."

With a nod, Harrison sat in the only available seat, which happened to be on the laps of his twins on an oversized armchair. "Excellent. Is there a sign on that one too?"

Heidi rolled her eyes. "How do you know everything before you even ask? Yes, the sign is above the door and it says 'Lord Gryffindor's War Room'."

"Let me guess," Demezla sighed. "You know how to get in?"

Harrison smirked. "I might have the key…" The gold ring on his finger warmed.

"It's a bloody war room! Let's go!" Someone shouted from the back.

"You want to skip the meeting, then?" Harrison asked them all jokingly.

"YES!!!!!" They all cried excitedly, practically hopping out of their seats.

He followed them, amused by their behavior. When they approached the door, the group made an aisle up the middle so that he could get through. Touching his disillusioned ring into the pad in the center of the door, he heard the door click and paused. "Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but I can only let you guys in if you promise not to touch anything. All right?"

George was quick to translate.

There were several impatient nods and general agreement.

"Oh, fuck yes," Harrison breathed, looking around in appreciation.

There was a massive table that had a dated map of the world, but it didn't show countries. There were sections, both on land and sea, that were broken down into categories. It was divided predominantly by magical creatures of all things. Where France should have been marked, there was a silver border that signified Veela. A red border around half of Romania and a small section of both Serbia and Hungary, was a signifier for Vampires. There was a teal border around most of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the coast of Southern Italy was marked as Merpeople.

Wanting to look into it later, he stared around the impressive space. The gray stone floors and walls were adorned with heavy tapestries and rugs in rich reds and vibrant golds. One section, the one he was in, seemed to be some sort of intelligence center. Multiple maps of different places were hung, half empty bookcases lined one small section of the wall, and the large dark wood table dominated the space. Harrison idly wondered what exactly they were planning.

In the other room, which was full of roughly hewn training dummies, was an astonishing arena. The floor was thinly carpeted and there were obstacles all over, including rocks of various sizes and even a sandpit. Mounted along the walls were old fashioned weapons, the likes of which he never thought he'd see in person. They all looked brand new. There were shields of both wood and metal, scythes, throwing stars, swords, maces, daggers and even lances. On the last wall, there were targets ranging from the size of the Dursley's sedan to the size of a golden snitch.

"This place is unreal," Harrison gasped, thinking of all the things he could learn in the War room.

"Well?" Came a shout from behind him. "What the hell does it look like?"

Startled, Harrison turned around to see that all of the Gryffindors were at the door and there was a pale opal ward around the entire frame, preventing them from entering.

Fred and George were just as surprised as he was, still standing by the creature map.

Harrison held his hands up. "I'm sorry, guys, I thought I could invite you in."

George translated immediately and they left the room together, all planning when to come back.

--

Harrison was headed for potions class when he felt the spell hit his back.

(A/N! Attempted non-con coming up! Not super graphic, but if you're uncomfortable, feel free to skip it. My feelings won't be hurt. There will be a note on where to pick up if you skip it!)

He knew immediately that it was a stunner, but thanks to his lovely little Lordship rings, most of the magic was absorbed. Unfortunately, he was still incredibly disoriented, though conscious. He stared dazedly up at the high ceiling, wondering when he had fallen.

And now he was floating.

"Wh's g'n on?" He slurred, feeling faintly nauseous. The world seemed to be spinning and showed no signs of slowing any time soon.

There was frantic whispering and the voices sounded vaguely familiar, but he could not quite place them.

Eventually, the spinning slowed and Harrison was on the floor. His mouth was wrenched open and a disgustingly sweet syrupy liquid was being poured down his throat. He tried to spit it out, but there was another stunner thrown at him and he was even more dazed and nauseous than before.

For a while, nothing happened, and Harrison was pleased, thinking that whatever potion he'd been forced to consume wasn't going to work.

His hope was dashed as he felt an uncomfortable heat build up in his stomach and slowly bleed outward until he was burning up from head to toe. He whimpered, hating the heat.

"It's working!" Hermione said cheerfully.

"Finally!" Ginny groaned. "It's too cold in here, so I'm not taking off my robes!"

"Wh' you ta'kn 'bou?" Harrison mumbled, tugging at his collar. Why was it so bloody hot? "I'ss too hot!"

"He's making it snow!" Hermione cried. "Hurry up so it'll stop!"

"I'll make it bloody stop!" Ron snarled, landing a vicious kick to Harrison's ribs.

There were at least two snaps, and his clothes were vanished.

"Just remember to make it look good, Ginny." Hermione directed. "You're supposed to be in love."

"Oh, please," the redhead scoffed. "Trust me, I know how to fake it. This isn't exactly my first time! Now, piss off and make it look like you just happened to walk by. Give me a minute, then 'accidentally peek in'."

The swirling blobs, one red and one brown, vanished. Harrison was worried, but too concerned with being boiled from the inside out to worry about much else.

An ice cold hand grabbed his prick and started pumping away.

The heat slowly started easing, much to his relief.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny breathed. "I'm so glad we decided to wait for each other, but I'm finally ready. You've been so patient with me, Harry."

Despite his delirium, Harrison was able to understand what was taking place after a while. And it scared the living shit out of him, because he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

A jolt of concerned confusion lanced through his mind, and sensing what it was, he pushed his panic through the same connection. "Help!" He mentally shouted at the bond. "Ginny… potion… sick… touching… Hermione… Ron… watching… ribs… burning..." It didn't make sense, but he couldn't even string two words together in his mind. He needed help! God it was so hot!

"Dad!" He whimpered weakly, tears streaming down his face as Ginny's ministrations became more forceful. The heat was tugging at him, and he was tugging right back. He didn't want to give in, especially since he couldn't tell exactly what it was that he was supposed to be doing.

(A/N! Attempted non con is over!)

"Back away, human!" Came a hiss from… somewhere. "You are not the red mirror mates!"

Ginny's high pitched scream was cut off quickly when he heard someone familiar say a spell. There was a thud.

Something was covering him!

"No!" He tried to push it off, whatever it was. "'S too hot!"

"Sweet Merlin!" Said the familiar voice. "He needs to expel the potion immediately!"

"What is it?" Asked a panicked pair of voices.

"Help me roll him to his side!" The other man barked. "Accio bezoar!"

Harrison felt himself being turned and tried to cry out in pain, but before he could make a sound, he was retching so hard that he couldn't draw a breath. The convulsions were making his ribs shift, and suddenly, he was choking.

"Apertum intue!" The voice said loudly, sounding terrified.

Gasping deeply, Harrison's chest rattled and he was choking again, and something else was coming up. He couldn't keep his eyes open.

--

Sadness, fear, anger and betrayal.

Harrison felt them, but he didn't understand why. Pushing the feelings aside, he huddled more tightly in whatever he was wrapped in. Someone was carding a hand through his hair, and another one was gently rubbing his back. That was nice. Soothing and comfortable.

"Hear that, Georgie?" Fred said happily. "We're soothing!"

Wait, he hadn't said that out loud, had he?

"No, but you think pretty loudly, love." George said, kissing the top of his head. "You going to open your eyes anytime soon?"

He shook his head, too comfy to even want to move.

Something cool bumped lightly on the tip of his nose. "Wake up!"

Groaning, he nudged it. "Go 'way, Xia."

"Fine!" She hiss/shouted. "See if I ever save your life again!"

"What?" That got his attention. His eyes opened quickly.

Scanning the room, which he didn't recognize, he noted that he was on a couch, head propped on George's lap and Severus was kneeling in front of him.

"Your rude companion," Severus smirked. "Is quite right. She did save you, and Miss Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are settling into their new accommodations as we speak."

With that, a rush of memories blurred together and he sat bolt upright. "If said accommodations are anything other than a ministry holding cell, I'm burning the fucking place down to ashes!"

A throat cleared and Harrison whipped around to see the ugly maroon Auror robes. "I'm going to pretend that I did not just hear anything that could be taken as treasonous threats."

Harrison had the sense to at least appear sheepish. "Sorry, Madam Bones."

She snorted, settling into an armchair. "Alright, let's get started, shall we?"

Twenty minutes later, Harrison had told his tale and they all looked pissed. It actually made him want to smile, knowing that it was on his behalf, rather than at him. It was certainly a good change of pace.

"Severus?" She asked after saying a few things that might call her professionalism into question. "Can I have the original copy of the diagnostic you ran? I know you made copies."

"I did, yes." He replied, summoning a piece of parchment from his desk. "One was for yourself, and the other was for my solicitor. We will be pressing charges."

"I'd be worried if you didn't." She said, tucking it away. "Now that the official interview is over, care to tell me why a poisoned student, especially this student, was brought to a professor's personal quarters, rather than the infirmary to be treated? It's a well-known fact that you two can't stand each other."

Harrison snickered, burrowing into Fred's side, his feet tucked under him. "Yeah, professor! Why? I'm telling Draco that he isn't your favorite anymore!"

His father rolled his eyes. "Impudent little brat." He sighed. "I brought him here for a few reasons. First, the things necessary for treating him were already here. Second, his ailments were too severe to warrant going up several flights of stairs when he would have bled out long before he could be healed. And finally, because he is my son."

The way her eyes bugged and her jaw dropped were priceless.

The three students were trying in vain not to laugh at the poor woman.

Eventually, she reclaimed her knowledge of the Queen's English… just an improper version. "You've got to be fucking kidding me?! How is this possible? Lily and I were good friends. She really cheated on-?"

"Whoa, no!" Harrison cut in. "We should have a very long talk this weekend. This is all a part of the massive amount of information that I said will be coming out over the next several months. Most of it can't reach the public yet, which is why I was so hesitant about telling anyone, not just you. It's a long and complicated mess, but I will tell you this… No, James was not my father and Lily was barely my mother. Before I say anything else, you should probably get checked over at Gringotts, especially since you knew them years ago."

"You make it hard to like you sometimes, you know that?"

Harrison grinned. "It's all a part of my charm."

An hour or so later, well after Madam Bones left, Harrison looked to his father curiously. "How did you know where I was? You were there first, right?"

Severus sat back in his chair. "Actually, I was asking your brother where you were, and he had no idea. Just as I was sending him back to his seat, I heard you calling out for me. The next thing I know, I am in an unfamiliar classroom and your snake was terrifying the life out of Miss Weasley. You were writhing on the floor, saying it was too hot, and there was about five centimeters of snow on every available surface."

"It was snowing?" Harrison asked, bewildered. He didn't remember that. "Wait, earlier you said that they'd given me an aphrodisiac, so why did you need a bezoar? Aphrodisiacs aren't poisonous."

"They are when they're concentrated at the point of altering their consistency. As I'm sure you know, that particular potion should have been the consistency of milk. In this case, it was so highly concentrated, it was as thick as chilled syrup. That alone was enough to overdose half a dozen fully grown adults. Much like the collective stunners to your person, the effects were diminished slightly, and did not kill you, but it was a very near thing. Had you not been wearing the Lord and Heir rings, you would have quite literally burned to death. Had the repeated stunners not incapacitated you, I can guarantee that you would have given Miss Weasley exactly what she was after, quite eagerly. In fact, you still would be, whether she wanted it to continue or not."

Harrison blanched. That bitch nearly… "I," he cleared his throat, sitting upright. "I don't feel all that great. I think I'm just going to call it a night."

"Are you alright, love?" George asked, his brow furrowed.

"Want us to come with you?" Fred offered.

Shaking his head, he made his way toward the door. "I'll see you all tomorrow. Thanks, dad."

Pulling the door shut, he missed his fathers' gasp of surprise at his choice of words.

Dad.

"Harrison!" Draco shouted, the second his brother entered the Slytherin common room. He rushed to his twin. "What in Salazar's name happened? Father vanished from the classroom and then people are talking about how the Weasels and Granger are being led out of the castle with magic suppressor cuffs and the head of the DMLE!"

Harrison hugged himself. "We'll talk about it later, Dray. I'm going to bed."

"Hey," Draco touched his arm gently. "Are you okay?"

Was he? "I'm not sure," he confessed, ignoring the looks from the entire House and shutting himself in his new room. Letting the day's events really sink in, he dropped onto the bed, fully clothed. Curling up in a tiny ball in the center of the overlarge bed, Harrison did something he hadn't done in years. He cried himself to sleep.

Chapter End Notes

Yes, I know this is not the longest chapter ever. We're getting close to some major plot points and I don't want them all on top of each other, so it's a little spaced out. I don't want anyone to go into information overload haha
As always, thanks for reading, and leave your thoughts in the comments!

Chapter 25

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It was still dark when Harrison woke. He waved his hand, simultaneously lighting the torches and casting a tempus. It was only a quarter to five. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the fact that he'd actually managed seven full hours of sleep was impressive.

He frowned, noting that he was only ever able to sleep well when something was wrong. Healing comas, collapsing from exhaustion, and apparently crying to the point of dehydration. Cheers. At least he now had a third option when he couldn't sleep at all. Just work himself into hysterics. Fantastic.

Rolling his eyes, Harrison slipped out of bed and turned the shower on full blast and as hot as it would allow. He walked under the fierce spray and was reaching for the citrus scented shampoo when he realized that he was still fully dressed.

"Dobby!" He called out, exasperated with his stupidity.

"What have you done to yourself, Harrison?" Dobby asked, bewildered by his master's appearance.

Harrison shook his head. "Tried to shower before I woke up. Can you please bring me a coffee? Or seven?"

With a snort, Dobby vanished and Harrison stripped down and quickly showered.

When he was done, he found a magically enlarged carafe and a box with a bow next to it.

"What's this, Dobby?" He asked, flopping down on the deep green sofa.

Dobby eyed his with a hint of faux annoyance. "You were too busy over Yule, so I decided to bring your gift now. Happy late Yule."

He smiled and tugged the ribbon. Inside was a mug. It was black and would hold over half a pot of coffee. There was bright green lettering that read ' Don't touch my coffee'. Smirking, he thanked the elf.

But that wasn't quite all. "Every time you take a drink, the message changes. It will start to repeat after about fifty messages. Don't use it in polite company though, because there are some… inappropriate words as well."

Harrison smiled happily at his strange friend and prepared his coffee, wanting to see some of the more risqué things.

' Fuck off until I've had my coffee' ' Coffee keeps me from strangling stupid people' ' Coffee beans are the only thing keeping me out of Azkaban' ' I like coffee more than I like you' ' To hell with the Dark Lord, I prefer a Dark Brew' On and on it went, getting more and more inappropriate. One even said ' Will suck dick for coffee'

Harrison burst out laughing at that, nearly spilling his drink in the process. "Merlin, Dobby! What am I going to do with you? I think I've corrupted you."

"Of course you have," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "And you'll continue to do so. Now, you should get moving. I have it on good authority that you'll want to see this morning's paper. Besides, with your brother's hair care routine, he's got to be awake by now."

Probably. Harrison could not understand why Draco spent so long on his hair every morning. It wasn't like it was very long or anything, and it certainly couldn't be that difficult to wash, comb and put his gel in. It made no sense! Especially for him to be the 'straight one'.

"I still think he's gay." Harrison said flatly.

Dobby snapped his mouth shut, averting his large eyes.

"You know something, don't you?" He asked suspiciously.

"Only that he is definitely not gay." The elf gave an exaggerated shudder.

"See, now you have to tell me!"

"I don't think you'd believe me, even if I did tell you what I saw."

Harrison nudged him gently. "Come on then. Out with it."

With a fake sigh, Dobby pinched the bridge of his nose. "Several times this year, I've seen Draco and a female companion sneaking into an empty storage room near the kitchens. He is… not quiet."

"What?!" He asked, eyes wide. "Do I know her? What house is she in? What year?"

"Yes, Gryffindor, and seventh."

Jaw dropped, he left his room in search of a certain blond.

"You!" Harrison said, pointing. "Gryffindor! Very loud! Girlfriend! Storage closets!"

Draco's ridiculously expensive hairbrush clattered on the dresser. "She told you?!"

"You've got a lion girlfriend?" Blaise gaped, having only been half awake during the intrusion. Hell, he was wide awake now. "And I didn't know about it?"

"Tell the whole bloody world, why don't you!" Draco half shouted, tossing the brush in a large silver box. "Yes, I've been seeing someone. Happy now?"

"Not until you tell me who it is!" Harrison declared imperiously.

At that, Draco smirked. "Ha! You don't know anything!"

"I know that I can ask my accidental spy who it was," came the snarky reply. "But I thought I would go straight to the source instead. I'm just noble like that."

"Yeah, real noble. And, what spy?"

"Nope! I'm not telling my secrets when you won't share yours. That's hardly fair, dear brother." Harrison lifted his pierced brow in a good impersonation of their father.

"Merlin, you really are a Slytherin, aren't you?" Blaise joked, finally getting out of bed.

"Is she a friend of mine?"

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?!" Draco crossed his arms. "Most of the Gryffindors have been hexing you senseless all year!"

"Yeah, on my order. I had to get switched somehow, didn't I?" Harrison rolled his eyes as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Fine!" Draco huffed. "It's Angelina."

Harrison blinked. "Is that why you were keeping it quiet?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, truly not knowing what his brother meant. "She's a gorgeous pureblood and comes from a good family."

Harrison sat himself on his brother's empty bed. "So, it's not… a race thing?"

"Race?" Draco asked, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, you're whiter than milk and she's… not. Are interracial relationships not an issue in the magical world?"

Draco and Blaise stared at him in a mixture of shock and horror.

"You're not serious?!" Blaise demanded. "Who told you-"

"Fucking muggles." Draco interrupted with disgust, feeling faintly ill.

They waited for either confirmation or denial from Harrison.

"Not all of them," Harrison admitted. "But, a lot do have issues with races mixing."

"Why?" Blaise asked, completely gobsmacked.

"It's the muggle equivalent of blood purity." Harrison said, feeling uncomfortable under their heated gazes. "Don't look at me like that. I don't believe in either."

"But you think we would?" Draco snapped, shaking his head. Determined to ignore his brother, he shoved past the brunet and started rummaging through his wardrobe. He had to look his best, as always. Especially for his black girlfriend.

Harrison gaped. He hadn't accused Draco of anything! He was just curious! Had it come out as accusatory? It wasn't supposed to.

Twice more, he attempted to speak to either of them, but was steadfastly ignored. Eventually, he gave up and made his way to the Great Hall.

"Potter," Pansy greeted, barely looking up from her plate. She didn't seem upset, just preoccupied.

Breathing an internal sigh of relief, he pulled a bowl of grapes closer, not feeling particularly hungry. "Parkinson."

"You wouldn't happen to know why there was a team of aurors here, yesterday, would you?" She looked up from her porridge with a wicked glint in her eye. "Or why a pair of weasels and a beaver were arrested?"

Harrison didn't say anything, instead, paying attention to his own breakfast.

Thankfully, he wouldn't have had time to reply anyway, as his twins took that opportunity to slide onto the bench. Fred was on his left and George on his right.

Pansy groaned softly at their arrival.

Naturally, Harrison hissed at her.

"How are you feeling?" Fred whispered, subtly offering a hand under the table. He liked being held when he was upset, so he thought Harrison might appreciate the gesture. It might not be as good as a tight hug, but that probably wouldn't be too well received yet.

"It's fine," Harrison replied automatically, giving the proffered hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

The twins felt a pang of guilt at the blatant lie, but both decided to wait until they were in private before bringing it up again.

"Remind me why we're suddenly overrun with Gryffindors," Pansy sneered. "And why it's okay?"

"Because I bloody well said so," Harrison snapped, keeping his volume down. Why had Draco added her to the list of people to give a cuff to?

Blaise and Theo were fine. Millicent and Daphne were also fine, but Pansy? She was so bloody annoying.

"Oh, fine," she relented, sounding exasperated.

Owls began swooping down, dropping letters and packages and newspapers on all of the House tables. Harrison ignored it all until a minute or two later when the entire Hall went silent, then burst into loud conversation.

Across from him, Pansy seemed to forget herself, exclaiming, "No fucking way!"

Finally giving into the curiosity, Harrison picked up the paper. His eyes widened in shock.

Confirmed Werewolf Cure?

That's right, dear readers! You read that correctly! We here at the Daily Prophet have learned that there is now a cure for lycanthropy! Just last evening, I received a letter of confirmation from the Goblins of Gringotts, who assisted with the patents and testing for the cure, sensibly named 'Luna Mutatum'.

This most unexpected news came from the Goblin King himself, verifying the existence as well as the validity of this most unbelievable discovery.

The GK provided the proper documentation and contact information of a cured werewolf. Upon gaining this information, dear readers, I had to track him down, in hopes of gaining further proof of this remarkable tale.

Much to my surprise, who should await my captivating company, but one Remus Lupin, who was removed from his post as the Defense professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just two short years ago, when his lycanthropy was outed.

"Yes, it's true," Lupin tells me, as tears of joy well up in his lovely brown eyes. "I have been completely cured."

"Just how did this all come about?" I inquired.

"I was approached by an incredibly talented potion maker-"

Harrison stopped reading, flushing deeply. From there, he skimmed the article, thanking any available deity for not being found out. All of the incredulity and praise went to the anonymous HPS, and not directly to Harrison. The article speculated that it might have been a dark witch or wizard who didn't want the publicity, but that she didn't care either way. That shocked him. Reading between the lines, she hinted that it didn't matter if the cure came from Voldemort himself, so long as it really did work. Remus confirmed that, and even showed off his new animagus form (which he'd already registered), then explained that most likely, the animagus forms would be regular wolves. He mentioned that since he never connected to his wolf, it could be why his form was that of a lion.

To that, Harrison had no answer, but it made sense. All of his research had pointed to the animagus form being a wolf. Hell, he didn't care.

Apparently, no one else did either.

He smiled briefly when he heard someone from Ravenclaw shout toward the staff table. "Does this mean that Professor Lupin can come back next year?"

At that, many of the students sounded their support of that idea.

Fred and George started pounding rhythmically on the table, beginning a chant of "Lu-pin! Lu-pin! Lu-pin!" In less than thirty seconds, the entire Hall was filled with the chant. Aside from the Slytherins. They were 'too mature'.

Oh, Harrison was definitely going to send the memory to Remus.

Up at the staff table, it was clear to Harrison just how difficult of a time his dad was having, trying not to laugh.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Umbridge screamed over the cacophony. "I WILL HAVE ORDER!"

Everyone shut up, mostly at the shock of how shrill her tone was.

"Quite right, Madam Umbridge," Dumbles agreed readily, raising his hand as if to quiet down an already quiet room. "Everyone off to class."

Very few noticed how upset the HeadBastard really was, beneath the cheerful veneer. Those who did take note were very pleased.

Harrison had nearly forgotten that in the contract he'd signed with the goblins, that they had control of the press regarding the potion, as they would earn a small percentage of the profits. He didn't mind, since a clause he'd negotiated into the contract kept anyone from revealing his identity, not that they would have. They had made it clear that his status as goblin would be better protection than any contract. Besides that, they liked him.

Feeling better than he had in awhile, Harrison went to class.

By the time Harrison was able to get back to Slytherin territory, it was almost curfew and he was exhausted. Having spent much of the day in class, then the library doing homework, then more work with the Defense Club, then his own training in the Chamber, he was more than ready for bed. Thank Merlin it was Friday.

Yawning, he rounded the corner and smacked into someone, barely catching himself on the wall. "Sorry," he said reflexively.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbitch said in that sickeningly sweet tone. Honestly, it was enough to give a toffee a toothache.

Despite wanting to make a scathing reply, he simply nodded in acceptance. "Yes, ma'am."

"Come with me," she said, not bothering to see if he was following.

Now? "It's nearly curfew, professor," he said as politely as possible.

She made no comment and he fought back a groan.

Again, he was given lines. Big shocker there. It was almost amusing that whatever he supposedly did for detentions, no matter what it was, his lines were always the same. Probably to keep the scars consistent. Who knows? She's completely mad, so he wasn't going to ask.

After about half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes of absolute silence, there were several nearly inaudible whimpers coming from Umbitch, which went on for a while.

It was getting really aggravating. "Professor, is there-"

"Quiet!" She shrieked. Even her cat plates, which were finally cats again, covered their painted ears at the sound. Stilling, she narrowed her eyes at him and he could feel the wards changing around them. "You just don't know how to follow orders! This school is too lenient on troublemakers and I won't stand for it any longer! For far too long, you have been able to do whatever you want, and it will end today! Consorting with animals pretending to be people, running to the Headmaster when you don't get your way! Well, no more! You will finally learn your place if it's the last thing I do!"

What the hell was she talking about? "Professor, I haven't sp-"

Before he could react, her wand was pointed directly at his head.

"CRUCIO!"

--

A horrible noise sounded in two rooms in the castle. The Potions Master's quarters and the seventh year boy's dorm in Gryffindor Tower.

In the dungeons, Severus jolted violently at the awful sound, accidentally kicking Lucius, who was also now awake. Both had their hands clamped tightly over their ears and Severus was swearing vengeance on the redheaded twins. No one else had the gall to make such a racket in his chambers!

In the face of an unknown threat, Lucius let out an impressive birdlike cry, accompanied by the muffled sound of tearing fabric. There was a rush of air as a pair of brilliant white wings with silver accents exploded from his back and he took up a defensive stance, after checking that Severus was not in immediate danger.

One of Severus' bookcases began to push away from the wall on a hinge.

Both pulled their wands with incredible speed.

In a similar manner, a tall wardrobe in the seventh year boys dorm began to shift on a hinge. All five of the boys in the dorm immediately leapt out of bed at the anguished cry and brandished their wands at the moving wardrobe.

As one, all five of them slowly headed for the door, only for three of them to be pushed back.

Fred and George crept cautiously into the new doorway, where the noise was growing louder.

Then it stopped.

Sharing a glance, the twins quickened their pace, hearts thudding in fear and anticipation for what lay on the other side of the mysterious new passageway.

"Incarcerous!" Severus and Lucius shouted in unison at the two bobbing lights that emerged suddenly in their path.

In their shock, neither of the twins saw the spells coming and were immediately bound in thick ropes. "Professor!" Fred said loudly. "It's just us!"

Severus snarled. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" George asked, still feeling a muted tug in his chest. "We haven't done anything!"

Lucius put a gentle hand on his husbands' shoulder. He too was feeling a strange pull. "You didn't cause the noise in the-"

"No!" Fred said right away, knowing not to fight the ropes, as they would tighten like Devil's Snare. "We were on our way to figure out what it was!"

"Let us up!" George growled. "There's something wrong!"

"If it wasn't you-" Severus began, but was cut off by an irate George.

"Fucking Finite!" He roared, the ropes falling away from both brothers, who collected their dropped wands and jumped to their feet.

With no chance to react to the impressive wandless magic, the couple followed the brothers.

The pull was getting stronger, but still, there was no more noise.

After a few more minutes of running, the stone walled passage ended at a wooden wall.

"Dark magic," Severus breathed worriedly, going closer to the door.

George and Lucius charged at it, pushing the heavy wooden door with a burst of fury and raw magic.

There stood Delores Umbridge, in all her glory, aiming her wand at an unconscious, yet twitching, figure on the floor. Her eyes were glowing an unearthly white and a sick smile played across her thin lips.

All four wands pointed at her, and their owners all shouted "STUPEFY!" at the same time, each one deliberately overpowering the spell.

The force of the blast sent Umbridge flying across the office and into the opposite wall. Unfortunately, she was unconscious before her feet left the floor.

Chapter End Notes

Just to let everyone know... yes, I am putting Harrison through some shit. I know it's piling on, but there is a reason for this, I promise! Thanks for sticking with it this long, and HAPPY THANKSGIVING to all the American peoples (in case you haven't guessed, I am one lol)
And I know it isn't super plotty, but we're getting to it!

Chapter 26

Chapter Notes

I'm officially about three hours late and a bit short. My bad guys. I wound up playing cards with my uncle. (He'd never played Cards Against Humanity! How criminal is that?) Anyway, here you go!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Twenty-nine hours and thirty-seven minutes. For twenty-nine hours and thirty-seven minutes, there were six non-student visitors in the Hogwarts infirmary. In that time, there was a lot of yelling, pleading and when that failed, just a few hushed conversations that carried little use.

Every twitch or hitch of breath had the six adult visitors and a few students waiting in anticipation. It was fruitless. He still wouldn't wake.

"What is the extent of his injuries?" A shockingly sombre Draco asked. It didn't make sense. How was it possible for him to accept this new life so easily? How was it possible to be… happy? Wait, was he actually happy with all of this? His family has imploded! But, they all seem so different. They seemed better, somehow. And even though everything changed, they were good changes. He'd grown up with horror stories about his 'mad Aunt Bella', but this one was, okay, a bit odd, but was very affectionate. She didn't seem the type to run around killing and torturing for fun. And his father. Before Yule, he'd always been cold and distant. It wasn't just a mask, like most purebloods. For years, Draco honestly thought his father didn't like him. But now? His father laughs. Draco had never seen his father laugh before. Smirk at someone's stupidity, sure, but he'd never laughed.

Severus though, he was the biggest change. The very same day that they all came back and were all shaken, Severus swept Draco into a tight hug without explanation, which hadn't happened since he was an infant, and held on for a confusingly long time.

And it was all Potter's doing. Potter shattered Draco's family, and fixed it all in one day. He gained a real family, including one thing he'd begged his parents for, a sibling. It was astonishing how quickly they'd stopped fighting, not necessarily being the best of friends. They were working on it, though.

He fixed them all… and yet again, he's the one who gets hurt. How is it that everytime Pot-Harrison does something good or right, he's the one getting hurt?

For the first time in their years at Hogwarts, Draco was worried about him.

"We won't know more until he wakes." Lucius sighed, having collected himself after losing his temper spectacularly the night before.

"Alright!" Madam Pomfrey said, exasperated. "Mr. Malfoy, Troublemakers, out! You have classes, and I won't have you missing anymore without being ill! Breakfast is about to be served, and you all need food and showers!"

Eventually, with much goading Draco left, but the twins remained.

No matter how much she tried to convince them to go, they ignored her, even going so far as to have Dobby (who was acting like a 'typical elf') bring their school books, so she didn't have a leg to stand on.

For the third time since being admitted, the Headmaster showed up to talk to Harrison.

In those cases, Dobby would pop in and out, so that Severus, Lucius, Bella, Draco and Narcissa could go into Poppy's office until he left. Only Remus, Sirius (in his animagus form) and the twins would remain.

"Is there still no change, my boys?" Dumbledore asked sadly, sitting at Harrison's feet.

"No, sir," the twins respond, again.

"Where's Umbridge?" Remus asked, trying his best not to let his anger take over.

"Presumably in a holding cell," the old man replied, brushing it aside. "I really couldn't say."

"Something we can help you with?" Fred asked, knowing that his brother would not be able to put on a kind facade very convincingly.

When Harrison's arm twitched, Dumbledore stared him down, as if assessing whether or not he really was unconscious. After a few seconds, he nodded minutely.

"Ah!" He said, shaking himself from his racing thoughts. "So sorry, my boys. No, I don't believe there is anything you could do. Though, I do believe that you have both missed enough classes. As lunch is currently being served, it would be an excellent time to rejoin your classmates."

"We're keeping up on our work, Headmaster," George said firmly. "Our work is brought to us, and the professors know where we are."

"It's only been one day's worth of classes, Albus," Remus said with a sigh. "Not to mention that it's nearly the weekend. Surely, they can make up their practicals then."

"Had the patient been a family member, their absences would be permitted," the old man said calmly, popping a hard candy in his mouth. "As the patient in question is Mr. Potter, I simply cannot allow it. My apologies, boys, but it's back to classes for you both."

"Then why did you let us stay last year, when Lee got sick?" George asked, failing to keep his anger completely checked. "That lasted three days."

Just as Remus cleared his throat, Fred nudged his brother. "Come on, Gred. We can come back later. Got some lectures to attend, dissertations to complete." He was trying to make his tone light to stave off the growing tension of the room. "We still have to plan the hostile takeover of Zonko's."

"Right, Forge. Lead the way, then." George said, forcing back his irritation. Then again, it didn't really matter. Harrison had already duplicated the map, so they would be back soon, this time without the watchful gaze of the HeadBastard. "The pranking empire won't topple itself."

"I'll let you know if anything changes, boys." Remus smiled wearily. He did not want to deal with the meddlesome fool on his own. "Off you go."

As one, they hopped to attention and saluted their ex-professor. "Yes, Sir!"

Eleven hours and sixteen minutes later, the twins were able to sneak back in. It was nearing curfew and the Headmaster had just left (yet again) about ten minutes ago. They'd tried several times, but any free time they'd had throughout the day, he was either there already, or on his way. It was maddening.

The infirmary was dark, save for a pair of torches on either side of the entrance. There was no one around and there were curtains up around Harrison's bed.

'Figures,' George thought with an eye roll. 'They wouldn't even let his dogfathers stay.'

'Yeah, but why?' Fred wondered. 'There wasn't an issue last night, so why now?'

In response, George shrugged then froze.

There was a sniffle and a muffled noise.

Immediately, Fred quickened his pace and pulled back the curtains.

Harrison was lying on the floor, shaking and crying softly.

It was Fred who noticed the distinct scent first and waved his wand to dry the area. "Hey," he whispered gently, kneeling next to the brunet. Brushing a lock of dark hair out of Harrison's face, Fred smiled. "Let's get you up, yeah?"

As he reached out, Harrison stopped him with a shaking hand. "Please don't. I- I-"

"I took care of it, love." He whispered, sliding his arms under his little soulmate. "You're too easy to lift."

"How are you feeling?" George asked as his twin eased their lover into bed. He pulled up the disheveled covers and tucked Harrison in properly.

Completely bloody humiliated. "I'll be fine," he replied reflexively. His right leg jerked.

Ignoring the lie for the moment, George waved his wand around and the narrow bed doubled in width. "Alright then," he slipped in, making sure not to accidentally take the covers. "How about this one? Why were you on the floor?"

Rather than answer, Harrison yawned and rested his head on Fred's shoulder.

'I dried him off,' Fred thought. 'But he was trying to get to the loo.'

George's nose scrunched, and he was glad for the poor lighting. He didn't want to further embarrass Harrison. It wasn't like he could help it.
Between all of the things he and his twin had gotten into over the years, he knew that there charms put on unconscious/coma patients that would… keep things moving, but without the mess. The only problem with that charm was that it stopped working the moment the patient woke up. Since Harrison wasn't physically capable of calling out for assistance, there was nothing to be done for it.

"I think we should get Madam Pomfrey-" Fred began, but was cut off when Harrison blindly reached up and touched his ear, then his cheek, then covered his mouth.

"No, 'm comfy," Harrison mumbled into Fred's soft sweater, pleased that the subject had changed.

George smirked. "You can have five minutes to be comfy, but then we will have to get ol' Pomfrey. We have to find out if everything's in working order, and see if your shakes can be treated."

With an exaggerated pout, Harrison lifted his head. "Fred," he whined. "George is being mean to me."

Fred's frame shook as he attempted to keep his laughter silent. "Do you want me to tell on him? Maybe to Professor Snape?"

Harrison grinned sleepily. "Gryffindor was already out of the running for the cup anyways, so go for it." His arm jerked, and connected with George's ribs. He gaped. "I'm sorry!"

"'S okay, love." George wheezed. "Wasn't your fault."

"Maybe we should get her after all." Harrison said sadly. Waiting until they got up, he cast a finite and the bed reverted back to its original size.

By sunrise, the infirmary was filled again with visitors. They were all talking over one another, but Harrison was sitting on his bed in silence. That word kept repeating in his head. Permanent. Permanent. Permanent.

Madam Pomfrey had said other things, but he had tuned out after that word. Permanent.

The twins kept out of it, but were listening closely while trying to comfort Harrison with soft words and softer touches.

"Have you noticed that every time that lot gets together," -permanent- "they turn into children?" George asked his companions in hushed tones. -permanent-

"Can't forget the fish, brother mine," Fred added, mimicking the gaping expressions from Gringotts. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, making a quiet popping noise. "They'd make good" -permanent- "children's party entertainers."

Just then, the fluffiest dog they'd ever seen leapt onto the bed at Harrison's feet. -permanent- It was tiny and had long curly fur that made it look more like a toy than an actual dog.

Harrison knew who it was and patted his thigh.

Bella's little doggy tongue stuck out a bit as she made her way up his legs. Turning on her spot, she flopped down and her short, fluffy tail lazily drifting from side to side.

She was content for a few minutes, until Harrison's leg thrashed and she was sent toppling to the floor.

Luckily, George had quick reflexes and snatched her before she hit the flagstones. "Try up here," he said, placing her on Harrison's chest. "It's just his limbs that do that."

As she curled back up, Harrison could feel her rapid heart rate and shallow breaths.

He felt horrible for scaring her like that. "George, she's terrified. You should keep hold of her." He didn't want to hand her back, since he might twitch again and drop or throw her. -Permanent-

With a sigh, he reached out, but stopped when she began growling at him. "Love, I don't think she's moving any time soon."

She shook her head quickly, her tiny ears flopping at the sudden movement.

"Bells, you're going to get hurt." Harrison half pleaded. "I just kicked you!"

Shimmying up his chest, she gave his ear a light nip, then returned to her spot.

He was pleased to feel that her pulse and breathing had evened out, but it didn't make her safe.

The next time he twitched, her blunt claws dug into his nightshirt, but she refused to move.

Two agonizingly long days later, Harrison was released. In that time, the tremors in his legs had lessened, but his arms were another matter entirely. He was now using magic for damn near everything. He had only been able to eat one out of every five or six bites, the rest of which were flung all over the place. When he tried dressing himself, he vowed to never let anyone help him again, and began doing it magically. He had been fighting with his socks and Fred tried to help. In the end, Fred's nose was broken and both of his eyes were blackened, and Harrison still didn't have socks on.

In that time, he'd been questioned at length by aurors and Dumbledouche. They'd even made him provide the memory, but realized it was barely enough to get a proper conviction.

When everyone blew up at that, the auror was quick to explain that seeing her cast the spell should do it, the entire memory went to shit when it hit him. His eyes had closed and noises became distorted, effectively ruining the rest of it.

Severus, Lucius and the twins gave their own memories of walking into the office and blasting her with strong stunning spells, not willing to allow the smallest chance that she could walk freely, simply because Harrison was in too much pain to properly recall every detail.

Spelling the buttons on his shirt, Harrison finally walked out of the hospital wing with his possessions hovering steadily behind.

As usual, he was released just after breakfast and just in time for classes to start. First up, Herbology. During his time in the infirmary, he was using a dicta-quill, but Herbology didn't require too much writing, so that was good. On the other hand, it did require a lot of hands-on work.

According to the professor, he would be marked for the practicals in line with his previous grades, but would be given the chance to improve his grade by participating in class, as well as dictating her movements in caring for whatever plants they were studying at the time.

She figured that if he could 'instruct' her, it would show sufficient knowledge of the lesson.

He was not looking forward to being paired up with his teacher for the rest of his schooling while his classmates paired with each other.

"Who can tell the class what this is?" Professor Sprout asked cheerfully.

Only three hands raised. Harrison, Pansy, and of course, Neville.

"Miss Parkinson?"

"It's an aloe plant," came the haughty response.

Neville smiled slightly, loving the fact that his classmates were unprepared. He wasn't the self-important type, but he was in his element, while most didn't give a damn about his favorite course.

"A common mistake, Miss Parkinson," she said kindly. "Anyone else care to hazard a guess?"

Again, Neville and Harrison raised their hands.

"Give it a go, then, Mr. Potter."

"Obstupifacio," he said immediately, and she began parroting his words for the rest. "They are often mistaken for aloe, but are incredibly dangerous, as the insides cause full body paralysis and severe hallucinations if it comes in contact with bare skin. The effects will last about four days."

"Five points to Gr- Slytherin." She didn't think he'd have many problems with the coursework. "Mr. Longbottom, could you please tell the class how to both avoid and treat the effects?"

"Well, not touching it would be a good idea," Theo snorted.

Neville rolled his eyes. "The outside of the plant is perfectly harmless and if you need to harvest it, you should always wear protective gloves that are completely nonporous. Preferably dragonhide or leather."

"Excellent. Five points Gryffindor." She eyed up the rest. "Five points to whoever can tell me how to tell the difference between our new friend, the obstupifacio, and the standard aloe."

Charms was not as simple. As he refused to show his wandless abilities, he had to struggle with keeping hold of his wand and not messing up the movements. The charm was simple enough, but the movement was a bit finicky and the slightest deviation could apparently set fire to windows. Not the frame. The window itself.

Professor Flitwick offered to start teaching him the basics of wandless magic in his free time.

"Thanks, sir," he said sincerely. "Professor Snape has already started scheduling lessons for me."

He had meals in his room.

Several days later, he received a letter with a familiar seal. It was an order to appear. The trial for Hermione, Ron and Ginny had been set for February seventh at 9 am. Three identical letters were dropped into the laps of Severus and the twins. Severus wore a smirk, scaring most of the students, including many Slytherins.

It was less than ten minutes later that Dumbledickwad pulled him aside, along with Professor Snape.

"What is it, Albus?" Severus asked, sounding tired.

"I was hoping for your assistance with translating for Mr. Potter." He offered them candies from an ornate silver dish.

Neither moved for one and he eventually put it down. "Now, Mr. Potter. I must ask where you've been disappearing off to during meals. I've noticed that you seem to appear just before everyone is dismissed."

"I'd rather humiliate myself in private, sir." Severus translated him verbatim.

"How do you mean, Harry?"

Harrison held up both hands for inspection. They were shaking badly. "By spilling ninety percent of anything I attempt to eat or drink, sir."

"Apparently his eating habits are now akin to that of wild dogs." Severus explained, rolling his eyes. "You have your answers. I assume that will be all?"

Despite wanting to cringe at his father's attitude, which he knew was necessary, and remained stone-faced.

"For now, I suppose that will have to do," he said by way of dismissal.

"Hey," Harrison said, walking into the potions lab in the Chamber. He let his bag drop to the floor and waved his hand, transfiguring an unused table into a small sofa. "What are you working on?"

The twins were huddled over a stack of parchment and the fingers on George's left hand were covered in ink.

They looked up, startled.

"When did you come in, love?" Fred asked in surprise.

"Just now," Harrison replied with a small yawn. "So, what are you making?"

Fred sighed. "A mess. I think we're about done for the day. What about you?"

"Finally had my first defense class," Harrison scoffed. He did not like the emergency replacement. Rather than ask Remus, like the students begged, Dumbleduffer decided to hire a moron by the name of Professor Yoseferia. She was nearly as insufferable as Umbitch, and she wasn't even using the Unforgivables like the last two. "What a joke."

"What did she cover in your class?" George asked, restacking all of their notes and filing them away.

"The second and third year curriculum for the Defense club!" He spat. "Trust me, I know. I wrote the bloody thing!"

They shook their heads in annoyance.

Xia popped her head out of the hood of Fred's sweater. "I demand to be moved to your heat pouch. This one is far too cold. If I become ill, I will bite him."

Yawning again, he waved Fred over to the couch and took Xia out of the hood. "You're not biting anyone, even if you do get sick. It will be your own fault, because you chose to stay with him, rather than come find me for heat."

Fred cringed. "I forgot the heating charms, didn't I?"

"She could have gotten your attention," Harrison said, eyeing his prissy snake. Tucking her into one of the overlarge pockets, he cast a heating charm.

"If you fix his ears, I would not have had any problems!" She hissed from her nest.

Fix-? Oh! "Thanks for reminding me. Come here, you two."

George sat on his right, and Fred on his left.

Harrison placed his shaking hands over their ears in turn, whispering "Hear me," and guiding his magic through.

"Did it work?" Fred asked, wincing at the pain.

"I don't know," Harrison smirked. "Did it?"

"Hey!" They said in unison, taking off the cuffs. "You sound like you again!"

"My patronus told me how," he explained. "I'd forgotten until Xia whined at me for not fixing you. It said that it would only work on my immediate family and the pair of you, since we're bonded. I already 'fixed' Draco and Severus." Him calling Severus 'dad' was something he'd done a couple of times, and it still felt private.

"I'm not even going to ask." Fred shifted, leaning Harrison back to get comfortable. He made sure that Harrison's torso covered his own, not wanting to catch an elbow in any area that might be painful. "Curfew isn't for another couple of hours if you want to get some sleep, love. You're clearly exhausted."

Harrison thought about arguing the point, but decided against it. Instead, he did as told and fell asleep wishing he could hold and be held, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. If ever.

Chapter End Notes

My little sister came up with the obstupifacio plant. The credit goes to her. Yay her...? lol
Also, I know this chapter isn't the plotiest, but I can promise for some excitement in the next chapter. If I have the time, it might be a little longer than the last few (but no definitive promises!)

Chapter 27

Chapter Notes

Ooh! What's this? 24 hours early? Don't mind me, I'm a dork. It's okay, I can admit it.
Oh, and longer bouts of 'twin speak' will not be double spaced anymore. It takes up too much space for so little writing. On with the show!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Within a week, Harrison was seriously considering whether or not it would be simpler to just quit and take all necessary testing at the ministry. Fred and George, who were also contemplating dropping out, managed to change his mind, even if there was a tiny part of him that still wanted to do just that. He couldn't though. Having Fred and George take their final exams would be the only way for them to be taken seriously when they went into business for themselves, and he was not going to be responsible for jeopardizing their futures. So, he'd put up with it… at least until they graduated properly. A little less than six months. He could deal with it for that long.

So far, he'd had problems in nearly all of his classes, aside from Arithmancy which he'd used to replace Divination for this term, Herbology, and CoMC.

"Remind me why I'm putting up with this," Harrison growled, throwing himself on the massive bed in his Slytherin room.

Draco let out a fake wail that could rival one of Myrtle's, while clasping his hands together in faux prayer. "You promised not to leave me alone with these people! You can't go back on your word!"

Harrison rolled his eyes and sent one of his pillows flying with surprising accuracy at his brother's head.

Trying (and failing) to avoid the pillow, he landed on his arse. "Rude," he said pompously, getting back to his feet. "Besides, I don't see why you can't just let the professors see your wandless abilities. It would save you a lot of trouble and besides, you'd get so many bonus points, that they might just bump you up to seventh year with your twins."

"Okay, better question," Harrison scoffed. "Remind me how the hell you're a Slytherin. You want me to show my cards before the bets are made. You've lost your bloody mind."

"No, just one." Draco said, taking a few books out of his bag and placing them on his brother's desk. "Some people are naturally gifted with wandless magic, and you're expected to be special anyway. It's not like you're doing silent wandless casting for incredible feats of magic. Well, except for that whole patronus thing in the common room."

"It will only take one person questioning me before they start looking too closely. I have been doing everything wordlessly. I can't cast spells in Latin from parsel." He took out his own books. "Sure, I say them, but they don't translate correctly. When I first started working on it, I started with simple spells and even those were all over the place. I realized that I have to use the translation to English, rather than the original Latin. It was too much hassle, so I just started doing it wordlessly. When I do it, I have to make sure that whoever sits next to me doesn't have a cuff to understand what I'm actually saying, because I just say something completely random when I'm supposed to be casting. Hell, when we were in Transfiguration, I literally said 'this is stupid' when I was casting. I'm already at risk for exposing my abilities and I don't plan on making people pay closer attention to me."

"Alright, alright!" Draco held up his hands in surrender. "It was just a suggestion."

"Oi! Potter!" Someone from the common room shouted. "Your owl can't get through your door."

Even though he'd been using magic to do pretty much everything, he was constantly looking for things to do without it, so he got off the bed to open it manually. "Hello, sweetheart," he said, nuzzling her.

Taking the letters she carried, he let her perch on his shoulder and moved slowly so that her sharp talons wouldn't dig into his skin. One was from the Ministry and the other was addressed to 'my favorite pup' so it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out who that one was from.

"Anything interesting?" Draco asked absently, flipping through the pages of his textbook with obvious frustration.

"The trial for the evil Toad has been set for late next month." Harry replied evenly. "Now, why are you getting upset at a book?"

"I can't remember where I saw that passage about Dascimiere's Theory on the effects of transfiguration on transmutated beings." He growled. "I saw it two days ago!"

"You won't find it in that book." Harrison said simply. "That passage is on... page two seventy-six in Obscure Magical Practices of the Sixteenth Century by Aleksandar Miroslav."

"There's no way for you to know that!" Draco huffed.

Harrison shrugged. Few people knew about his eidetic memory, and he planned to keep it that way. He opened the letter from his dogfathers.

"Hey, Pup!
How's our favorite godson? We have something we'd like to talk to you about in person, so meet us in Sev's office Friday during lunch. Yes, you can bring your… what did the elf call them? Mirror mates? (I laughed so hard at that) as well as Draco. We'll see you then, Pup!
All our love,
Siri and Remmy"

Quickly relaying the message to his brother, Harrison delved into his homework.

"How hard is it?" Harrison asked in amusement.

"Will you just lay off already?" Draco sighed.

"Don't get mad at me," he snickered. "You're the one who put off your work because you didn't want to listen to me. That's hardly my fault. All I asked for in return for my assistance, was to hear you say it."

Draco rolled his silvery eyes. "Fine, you bloody ponce. You were right about the bloody book. Happy?"

"Positively chuffed, dear brother," Harrison said with a smirk. "Now let's go see what my dogfathers want."

"Weren't you supposed to bring the twin terrors?"

"They'll be along shortly. Been working on something all week, holed up in the lab all hours. Ah, speak of the devils and they shall appear."

"Devils?" They asked merrily. "You wouldn't happen to mean us?"

"We're angels!" George said adamantly.

"The best of the lot!" Fred agreed.

"Sweeter than-"

"Swamp gas." Draco cut in. "But just barely."

Harrison's snort turned into a grunt when he was suddenly picked up like a sack of flour and hefted over George's shoulder. He poked at the arse he was faced with. "Don't get me wrong, I quite like the view from here, but I'd like to remind you that I can walk."

"This view?" George asked, stopping to cock his hips.

"Put your arse away!" Draco and Harrison said at the same time.

They looked at each other in surprise, and all four of them burst out laughing.

"Cease your antics at once!" Severus' cold voice commanded.

Fred unwrapped his arm from Draco's shoulder, and George put Harrison down.

"Yes, sir," they all said.

"In! Now!" He barked harshly.

The four of them walked silently into Severus' office.

He dropped the charade easily. "I really do hate doing that to you."

They smiled at him.

"It's fine," Draco said, brushing off the faux anger. "I do have a question though."

"Go on," Severus encouraged.

"Since you're our bearer," he began. "Does that mean we're supposed to call you mum?"

Harrison gaped, fully expecting a verbal lashing, or at least an insult or two. He certainly did not expect Severus to actually think about it!

"Would you prefer it?" Severus asked seriously. "It is confusing, calling both Lucius and myself 'father', isn't it?"

Looking around the room in astonishment, Harrison realized that no one in attendance found the question odd in the slightest. Were they really discussing this rationally?

"It makes sense," Draco said with a shrug. "Besides, even though she's still my mother, I never called… Narcissa 'mum'. Just 'mother'. I just think it might make things simpler."

Severus hugged his son tightly, with a wide smile. "I would like nothing more, love."

"Okay, okay," Sirius cut in happily. "I can appreciate the mush, but we don't have much time."

Now that he was paying attention to his surroundings, Harrison noted a significant lack of seating. He cast an engorgement charm on two table chairs and transfigured them into a sofa for three. Levitating the table itself off to the side, he turned that into a matching loveseat. "So, what's up?" He asked, sitting between his twins on the loveseat. As usual, his legs went over one twin and his upper body draped over the other. This time, he leaned on Fred and crossed his legs on George's lap.

"Just rip the plaster off, Siri." Remus said, watching his lover struggle with exactly what to say.

Sirius nodded. "Right then, Harrison, Draco, I know that we're not technically related anymore, but how would you feel about getting a cousin of sorts?"

Draco was obviously excited.

"Are you pregnant already?! It's only been a few weeks!" Harrison blurted out. "Sorry, that... came out wrong… I think."

Remus snorted. "Not yet. Not until we convince a potions Master to brew us a potion."

"That's fantastic!" The twins said. "Who's to be mum and dad?"

"Dad," Remus said, raising his hand.

"Mum," Sirius mimicked the motion. "Now that Remmy's no longer on the Werewolf registration, he's allowed to have a job. He wants to open up a shop, so I'm going to be mum. Harrison, what do you think?"

He almost asked why his opinion mattered, but quickly changed direction. "I think it's perfect."

Siri beamed. "So, now it's only a matter of asking you or your mum to brew us the potion."

Mum. Merlin, that was going to take some getting used to. "I don't mind either way. Whoever you pick is fine with me."

"If you would rather I do it," Severus began, looking over a calendar. "It would have to wait until at least the end of next month, though the long weekend in April might be best."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, while Siri seemed impatient.

"Alright," Harrison said, doing some quick thinking. "If my minions are free to lend a steady hand, I can do it… Saturday. That would be best. Friday is the Defense club, so I'll be busy all day."

"What about Sunday?" George asked. "We're free then."

"Hate showing up to class well rested?" Harrison joked.

They looked at him curiously.

"It takes a little over nineteen hours of constant supervision to make successfully." Severus explained.

"Sorry," Fred said lightly. "Can't do it."

"You'll have to make it yourself." George continued.

Harrison sighed. "I'd love to, but you know I can't." He held up his hands as they apparently needed reminding.

They each grabbed one of his shaking hands and kissed them. "Course you can." George said mischievously.

"If you take this first." Fred said, brandishing a… thermos?

"You know you both mean the world to me," Harrison began suspiciously. "But I don't generally make a habit out of drinking unknown substances from non-transparent containers."

"Well," Fred grinned. "You're just no fun."

Harrison rolled his eyes. "Anyway, what is this mysterious potion that you tossers want me to drink?"

George handed him three sheets of parchment, which he had to hover to be able to read, as his hands shook too badly to be able to keep track of what line he was on.

After a few minutes, Harrison's jaw dropped. "How the hell did you come up with this?"

"Do you remember our 'Instant Sugar High' tablets?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, of course," Harrison replied. They really did come up with the strangest things sometimes.

"Well, we realized that if we concentrated the antidote and added a few things, that it might work for you."

"That's incredible!"

"What exactly is 'Instant Sugar High', and what are you getting at?" Severus asked, going into full professor mode.

"It's a sweet," George explained. "That mimics and exaggerates the effects of a sugar high. You know, hyper activity, bouncing around, rapid speech, a crazy amount of energy, that sort of thing. The antidote, while quite bitter, slows everything down to normal over a course of about five minutes. The ISH actually takes the same amount of time to activate, so as not to shock the system, so it's not technically instant."

"It's great for babysitters dealing with bad kids," Fred added. "When they're ready to give the kid back to its parents, slip the kid the ISH and let the parents deal with the little monster. Since there's a time delay, it just looks like the kid is just a little prat."

"It isn't safe for any child under the age of eight, though." George supplied. "Well, one of the effects is shakes, due to the excessive energy. We figured out how to isolate that particular problem by changing the process and a few ingredients, and ta-da! A cure for incurable tremors."

"You can't be serious," Severus said, eyes wide. He took a look at the pages of information. As he read, everyone was dead silent. "Dear Merlin, this should actually work. If I may, why did you exchange the elderberry root?"

"Couldn't use it." Fred shrugged.

Before Severus could say anything, George cut him off. "Harrison's allergic to elderberries."

Harrison could only smile, not bothering to ask how they knew about that.

"So, according to your research," Severus said, wanting clarification. "Two ounces of this every eight hours for the next four days, should cure him completely? This really is incredible. I've been looking into something like this since Poppy said it was incurable, but I couldn't get past the restrictions of the Willow bark."

"What restrictions?" Sirius asked, genuinely interested. He was pants at potions, but if it could cure his pup, he'd listen.

"Time," Harrison said immediately. "It never would have lasted more than a few hours. Even still, it would have been nice to have a few hours at a time without accidentally knocking things around, or-"

"Or breaking someone's nose when they're helping you tie your shoes." George chuckled.

Fred scrunched his nose. "I wasn't tying his shoes! I was helping put on his socks!"

"You broke his nose?" Sirius asked before laughing uproariously.

"Right," Harrison said after their guests had left. "Now, there are a few things I need to look up before the first trial, but I can't find any books on Wizarding Law in the library. Do you know of any-"

"You won't find them in the library, not without a pass to the restricted section." Draco sneered. "Yet another gift from our illustrious Headmaster. According to the Grey Lady, he started moving the books a few years before the previous Headmaster, Armando Dippet, died, and he was set to be the replacement."

The twins shared a look.
"That explains so-"
"Much, little snakeling-"
"In-law. Like how-"
"You always seemed-"
"To know which corridors-"
"You had to avoid-"
"Even at three am."

"You've been using the ghosts to act as spies!" They finished their thought together. "That's brilliant!"

Draco just grinned.

Next to him, Severus was only slightly less impressed. "Daytime antics are one thing," he said. "But I will not have you traipsing about the castle after hours! Do you have any idea what would happen if you were caught by Captain Dumbbells alone, when no one aside from the ghosts knows that you were even missing?"

"Sorry, mum," Draco said meekly.

Harrison was amused by the 'Captain Dumbbells' comment, but he did note the small smile on his fath-moth... Severus' face when Draco called him mum again. In that moment, Harrison vowed to try to start referring to his family by their titles, rather than their first names. 'Start small,' he told himself, 'like in private for now, then work your way up.'

"So, would my potions professor write me a pass for the restricted section?" He asked cheekily.

"That depends," came the reply.

"On?" Harrison wondered.

"On a promise." Severus said. "If I get your word that after Dumbledore is safely ensconced in the comforting embrace of the dementors, you will alter your published works with your true name. No more hastily scribbled initials."

Harrison's shoulders slumped. "Severus," he sighed. "Please don't ask me that. You know I hate my fame. That will make it worldwide, instead of just in Europe. I don't think I can handle that." It was true. A small part of him still wanted to move abroad when everything was all said and done. But he knew he couldn't anymore. Now he had a family, he owned a school, his lovers wanted to open up their shop in Diagon, plus his Wizengamot responsibilities when he graduated. He didn't want to add worldwide recognition to that. "I'm gawked at enough as it is, and if that comes out, I'd never get another moment's peace." His eyes closed in resignation.

A cool hand touched his cheek gently. He didn't flinch!

"Harrison, look at me." Severus' tone was soft, and Harrison responded accordingly. "Your fame will never diminish, no matter how much you wish otherwise. Even what you are doing now, righting wrongs, seeing guilty persons finally put in their place, crippling the corruption of our government… it is going to foist you back into the spotlight, the likes of which you've never known, whether you like it or not. You are a hero to this world and you always will be. Adding academic genius to your resume will hardly make it worse. Publishing your works correctly will not push you further, because you are already a household name. By that time, every person in the world will know your name for all of the good you are already doing. Let this be one of the reasons. Think of the possibilities of what you could accomplish!

"Even as the youngest Potions Master of the last two centuries, my skills scarcely compare to yours. Potioneers from around the globe will know who to approach when they can go no further in their own research. Think of the cures you could create, the limits you will push, the heights you will reach. That isn't something to squander on a false persona. Let this be what makes you stand apart, not some freak accident from your infancy. Let the world know that they were right by putting their faith for the future in your hands."

Severus brushed his fingers over his son's cheeks.

To Harrison's surprise, it was his tears that were being wiped away. He hadn't realized he'd started crying.

"Go on, love," Fred said lightly.

"This would have been a lot easier if I'd just snuck in, like in first year." Harrison chuckled, sniffling. "But, no. I had to go ahead and do the responsible thing by asking for permission."

"Slipping in your old age, are you?" Severus joked, kissing his son's forehead. "I approve."

Harrison rolled his eyes, leaning slightly into the touch.

Only Severus noticed that Draco and the twins left.

Taking a newly vacated seat on the transfigured loveseat, he pulled his youngest son close. "Harrison, love… you and your brother mean everything to me, and I'll tell you a secret. Much like most parents, I don't want you to merely 'do well'. I want you to accomplish more than Lucius and I. Your success, as well as your brother's, is my fiercest wish. In your case, I wasn't afforded the chance to raise you. Now that I finally have that privilege, I want to do it properly. Seeing you succeed in life brings my own life pride and meaning."

Tucking his legs to his chest, Harrison sniffled as his tears continued to fall. "I don't suppose I can say 'no', now can I?"

"No," Severus smiled warmly, running his fingers through Harrison's hair. "I don't suppose you could."

"Will you… do you want to help me?" Harrison asked softly. "With navigating the law section in the library, I mean."

"I would be hap-" Severus wheezed as his son's sharp elbow jammed into his stomach.

Harrison immediately pulled back, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry!"

Taking a few slow breaths, Severus regained his bearings.

Silently cursing, Harrison got to his feet. "I-I should...go. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Harrison. I am not injured, just winded." Severus stood, pulling his son into a tight hug. "A pointy elbow will not detract my love for you."

Harrison gave a tearful smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"I wouldn't miss it." Severus promised.

Heading for the door, he paused. "I love you too, mum."

Chapter End Notes

Help me out, people. I'm not used to writing mush- ahem, fluff. Let me hear your thoughts, and as always, please be respectful about it (even if it is bad).

Chapter 28

Chapter Notes

The editing might not be perfect, but I'm running on little sleep and it's two and a half hours later than my self imposed deadline. Sorry! And on to the chapter!

The next day, Harrison was under his invisibility cloak, patiently waiting for Se- his… mum outside of the library. Even though he didn't technically need to hide, since he was being given a professor's permission, he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to the fact that he and the 'evil snake leader' were getting along. Short of running around starkers in the Great Hall, not much would have been more surprising or rumor-inducing than that.

Set to meet at ten, Harrison had shown up ten minutes early to wait.

Just as four o'clock chimed, his mum turned the corner.

"Go ahead, I'll follow you," he whispered, meeting the older man's stride with ease.

Surprised by the sudden voice, Severus nearly faltered in his steps. He had no outward reaction and briskly made his way to the iron-gated restricted section.

"You must be joking," Severus said upon waving his wand over the gate. "Three down."

Wriggling past, Harrison's eyebrows lifted in surprise. There was a door at the far end, with a small plaque reading 'Ravenclaw Library' engraved in dainty calligraphy. "And one to go," he finished quietly.

"How has no one noticed this?" Harrison wondered. "School's been back in session for a while now, and the doors all cropped up at the same time. Judging by your reaction, no one said anything at the staff meeting?"

Severus just shook his head, his interest finally overtaking the initial shock. "Open it, Harrison."

Grinning at the blatant excitement, Harrison rushed to comply. When he attempted to grab the handle, however, he couldn't get a grip on it. It wasn't that the door wasn't allowing entry, but his grip was… well, it sucked. Sighing deeply, Harrison gently pushed the door with his magic, and to his relief, it opened.

When they stepped in, they both froze.

"Holy shit." Severus breathed, his eyes wide as saucers.

That cracked Harrison up. "Spending time with muggles, mum?"

Severus smiled broadly. "Impertinent little imp."

"It's just part of my charm," Harrison smirked, leaning into his mum's side. "Okay, okay, time to go exploring!"

This made the Hogwarts library look like a nice little reading nook. Gorgeous royal blue walls were lined with bookshelves… and bookshelves… and more bookshelves. It was two storeys high with several staircases leading up to the second level from each wall. There were bronze accents all over the room, including the painted furniture. There were a few tables placed near the tall, narrow windows with two chairs each. On the main floor, there was an area towards the back of the positively colossal library that held four large overstuffed leather seats around a coffee table. Off to the side, there was a painted oak desk that was surrounded by individual shelves that were mounted about four feet above its surface, and each contained about a dozen various books.

There were no signs on the shelves, and there didn't seem to be a card catalogue like at the muggle library he used to sneak off to, so he tried summoning one in case he missed it. During his search, he wound up at Rowena's desk.

"You!" Came a startled voice. "Identify yourself!"

"Harrison?" Severus asked, coming closer. He'd been skimming some of the titles on one of the first shelves when he heard someone speak.

Brows lifted, Harrison searched around the desk and found a small portrait of what appeared to be a couple in old fashioned clothing with curious gazes. "Mum," Harrison called back. "There's a portrait that wants to know about us, but there's a bit of a language barrier. Could you come here?"

Just as Severus drew near, the woman scoffed at him. "Language barrier? Bah! We can hear you, boy!"

While she obviously understood him, she was speaking English. "I apologize, madam. My name is Harrison Potter Snape, and this is my mother, Severus Snape. Who might you be?"

"Mother?" The woman asked with tears of joy in her eyes. "Alphard! Did you hear? Our Sally completed his work!"

"Indeed, Aggie," the man next to her said tiredly. "I heard. It is a pleasure to meet one of our own."

Harrison had a veritable ton of questions, but quickly forced himself to calm down. "May I ask how you are able to understand parseltongue, but don't speak it?"

"Some of us are able," Alphard replied in perfect parsel. "I was able to give Aggie the ability to understand it, but I was unable to figure out how to give the gift of speech. Our son did the same for his mate and sister. Unfortunately, our Rowena didn't inherit the gift, but she understood it well enough."

"You don't mean to say that Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw were siblings?" Severus asked, marveling at the idea.

"This conversation seems familiar," Aggie said with a giggle. "Doesn't it, Alphard?"

"That thrice be-damned girl was supposed to tell the public," Alphard grumbled. "She said she would. Children."

"So, they are related?" Harrison wanted clarification. It sounded like they were, but he wanted to be sure.

"Yes, yes," Alphard said with a wave. "And before you ask, Godric and Helga were married. They had two children to carry on the names. Rowena married that tosser, Tomas and they had a daughter. Salazar never married, but based on the fact that you are standing here leads me to believe that he did complete his potion and produce at least one heir, which he never told us about."

"My dear, you won't be like the last child to enter this room, will you?" Aggie asked hopefully. "We had to put a stop to her visits after she died. Oh, all that girl did was cry! And it was all over the silliest things! 'She keeps picking on my glasses' 'My professor is mean' 'I don't like my classmates'. Oh, it was endless!"

"Do you mean the Grey Lady?" Harrison asked, fascinated. "Helena, I believe her name was." Wait, glasses? It couldn't have been Helena.

"Love," Severus said, taking a seat. "I believe that it might have been more recent than Helena. Alphard and Aggie don't seem to be trapped in the linguistic stylings of the tenth or eleventh century."

There was a crack nearby and all four heads turned, though it was out of view of the portrait.

Dobby was standing there with a heavily laden silver tea tray. "So, what happened between you two?"

"What do you mean?" Harrison asked.

"Last night, my bond stretched to him," Dobby said, nodding toward Severus.

Severus and Harrison looked at each other, equally confused.

For a moment, Dobby watched them with a curious look on his face. His eyes lit up. "It's about time that you accepted your own mother! What took so long? Honestly!"

At that, mother and son chuckled.

"I was about to call an elf for tea," Severus remarked, intrigued. "But I've never been bonded to an elf before. I had no idea the bond worked that way. I understand that you often take tea with Harrison, and I have no intention of trying to change that."

Dobby smirked. "I was never worried, Master Snape. It wouldn't have worked, but thank you for saying so."

Harrison, Aggie and Alphard burst out laughing while Severus gaped at the small elf.

A while later, Severus and Harrison had at least a dozen scrolls of handwritten notes from various books that they found were unable to leave the incredible library. It should have bothered Harrison, knowing that he could never take the books out, even though they were his, but he was happy that they would always be safe.

Now that the library, as well as the other rooms that had popped up, were found, they'd never be forgotten again. The knowledge of their ancestors wouldn't be left behind as long as Harrison had something to say about it. Their collective history was far too important to be forgotten. It was the only thing that kept people from making the same mistakes over and over again, which is precisely what was happening now. It was absolutely ridiculous. Why didn't people pay attention to the lessons of the past? Where else would they get the cautionary tales?

"Did you find everything that you were looking for, Harrison?" Severus asked, putting the cork stopper back into his ink pot.

"Yes, mum," Harrison replied. He was still forcing the 'mum' thing, but just until it was natural to say. He wasn't delusional. They all understood things would take time before they became comfortable, and for now, that was okay.

He gathered up his pages and waved his shaky hand to dry the ink instantly.

Severus' wand vibrated. His eyes widened in surprise. "It's time for your next dose, love. We've been here for several hours longer than I had originally anticipated.

At that, Harrison startled. He'd taken the potion at eight, and his next dose was at four. Had they really been there for six hours? Upon casting a tempus, he noted that it really was four. Oops.

"Has it begun to make a difference yet?" Severus asked casually, making his way to the door.

"No, not yet," Harrison replied easily. He wasn't worried. "I haven't even been taking it for twenty-four hours. It'll take time, which you should know, as a Potions Master."

"I am aware," Severus said, stopping near the door. "But no one likes seeing their child suffering."

Harrison bit back a comment that would hurt them both. He couldn't blame Severus for the past. It wasn't his fault… but that didn't make it hurt any less to think about.

In some ways, it made things worse. The 'relationship' he had with Lucius was enough proof of that. At least with Severus, there was something to build upon. With Lucius, all he had were a few memories that were all bad. Hell, at the end of his second year, Lucius had tried to cast an Avada at him! He'd been twelve at the time! What the hell kind of monster tries to cast a killing curse at a child? No, it technically wasn't Lucius' fault, but that was one of his first and only memories of the man, and it wasn't good.

Even Harry had some grudging respect for Severus. He didn't have that with Lucius.

"Is something wrong?" Severus asked with concern.

Harrison sighed, not even bothering to lie. "I was thinking about relationships. Specifically, the one with Lucius. I understand that he's changed, but I've yet to see it. I don't doubt it or anything, it's just… I haven't had the chance to see the proof."

Severus smiled sadly. "Why don't you get together with him over Hogsmeade weekend-"

"I can't." Harrison interjected. "I'm making Siri's potion."

"Or," Severus said pointedly. "Use the long weekend coming up in April. Until then, you could exchange letters. Of course, the mail is being monitored, so you could use the correspondence as a 'pen pal' of sorts. Address the letters to a different name, a student from Beauxbatons that you've remained in contact with. It wouldn't be that strange, considering several of the other students have done the same since the tournament."

Harrison's brow rose. "That's actually not a bad idea."

"Ever the tone of surprise," Severus joked pompously, rolling his eyes. "Alright, take your potion, then go harass your twin terrors."

"They're busy with something," Harrison said, yawning. He donned on his cloak, vanishing from sight. "I'll see you later, but probably not until class."

Severus frowned slightly at the cloak.

Harrison cringed, but righted himself before removing the hood. "Does it bother you that I still use James' cloak?"

"No!" Severus assured him immediately. "No, not at all. I hold no grudges against Jamie. In fact, I find myself missing him dearly."

"So, what's wrong?" Harrison wondered.

At that, his mum chuckled. "I prefer to be able to see what I intend to hug."

Just to tease, Harrison gathered some of the excess fabric in each hand and held it far out on either side, allowing himself to be fully visible without taking it off. With no warning, it slipped right out of his hands. His jaw clenched in frustration and irony, as he'd just ribbed his mum not to expect results so quickly from the potion.

Without a word, he hugged his mum, re-donned the cloak and set off toward the chamber.

He wanted to blow something up.

It took three more days of taking that vile potion before he could feel any sort of progress. While his hands still shook, he was no longer at risk of unexpectedly dropping things or being unable to grip things. It was a massive relief.

By way of congratulating him, Dobby stopped giving him his morning coffee in a charmed mug, though he didn't fill it completely, allowing some space for his shakiness.

At the moment, his mug read Give me coffee and no one gets hurt. He was finishing an essay for Professor Flitwick. It was painfully simple. It was nearing the end of January, and all he had to do was hold out for a few more months until he could go to the ministry and take his NEWTs. Just a few more months.

In the meantime, Harrison was spending as much time as possible reading up on anything he might need to know for the trials that were coming up. There wasn't much time until the first of the lot.

The beauty of his plan was that due to the way certain things would play out, it wouldn't look like his true vendetta was against Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He may or may not have sent a letter to Lucius, who was acting as the Law Wizard on behalf of the Wizengamot, letting him know of some things to casually bring up during the whole questioning process, tailored personally for each of them.

It was sure to be an enlightening experience. All that was left to do now, was wait. Well, wait and pretend that he didn't already know about ninety-four percent of the material they were going over in classes.

Since he was able to do his coursework so quickly, he spent a fair bit of his time tinkering around with the basilisk parts. So far, he'd created what he'd thought to be the perfect gift for a most unlikely person.

It was not a commonly known fact that there was a holiday of sorts, similar to Christmas (but only in that they sometimes exchanged gifts) for the Goblins, though it was actually their New Year celebration. As they were gold oriented, he hesitated to call them greedy, he was able to come up with something.

He'd sent a letter to Thortac, asking for an odd favor… her brother's measurements. When he'd received the information, he gleefully went to work. Using the shed basilisk skin, which was still inexplicably pliable, he created a one of a kind set of custom fitted body armour for His Majesty. It was slow going, as he could not use magic. That was the purpose, after all, to block magic. So, he had Dobby do the cutting to ensure straight lines, but the design was his, as was the sewing. Since the skin was so tough, his shaking hands didn't do much by way of screwing anything up. In fact, he'd had to use a narrow silver rod with a vicious point and a hammer to create the holes. He then was able to use thin strips of the skin to act as thread to hold it all together.

For Thortac herself, he had checked over the extensive and painfully accurate inventory of his vaults and manors, finding something perfect. In one of the Potter vaults, he found a pair of amulets made of pure elven silver. Inside one, there was an iridescent purple liquid that was said to heal even the most dire magical wounds from the fumes alone. If there was a single breath left in the body, the shimmering fumes would heal all of the magically inflicted damage. While it couldn't be used by humans, as the reactions would certainly be fatal, they worked perfectly on magical beings. The second amulet was a stone. It didn't look like anything special, but the information that came with it was what made it so perfect. The stone was forged with the Everlasting Dragonfire, contributed by seventeen species of dragons, which would, when added to magically imbued water, cure non-magical illnesses. Again, it was fatal to humans. According to the texts, full humans were weak.

They had been crafted during a war between the High Elves and Magical humans. Harrison didn't care. It suited his intentions wonderfully.

For Griphook, he took about ninety galleons out of his self-filling pouch, and pushed as much magic as possible into the pile as possible. He had watched in fascination as the stack of coins began to melt, taking on a new shape. In the end, he had two perfectly balanced Khopeshes. They were handheld weapons used by Ancient Egyptians, with a thick, curved blade on one end, and a blunt hook below the handle. He painted the blade edges with basilisk venom.

For the goblins he hadn't had the chance to meet during his rituals, he included thirty-five kilograms of basilisk meat to be divided up between them. He hadn't had the chance to count how many were there, and figured that it would be a good guess.

Much to his surprise, basilisk meat was considered to be one of the most luxurious meals in goblin circles. He certainly didn't want to try it, but he wouldn't begrudge them the opportunity to try something that was akin to caviar served on a bed of gold leaf. To be honest, he didn't particularly want to try that either, but to each their own.

Since the gifts were too heavy (and slightly illegal) to transport via owl, Harrison just decided to apparate.

"Hello," Harrison said happily to the unknown teller at the front desk. "Could you tell me if Griphook and Thortac are available?"

"They are. State your business." The goblin didn't even look up from his paperwork.

"Presents!" He declared, knowing full well that only the goblin could understand him. "For Ba'afhmaka."

The goblin startled dramatically, knocking over a small tower of gold and an inkwell. "Young Lord." He said respectfully, his wispy eyebrows raising.

"Ah, Fangor!" Harrison smiled. This was one of the goblins he was looking for. "Happy Ba'afhmaka!" He removed a package from his satchel. The satchel itself had lightening charms in the fabric, but would not damage the magic sensitive/resistant items inside. The gift was wrapped in plain brown paper (one kilogram of meat). "Don't open it here. The others that helped me will be getting gifts as well. Speak with either Griphook or Thortac when you get a chance. They'll explain it, okay? I'm going to go bother them now. Bye, Fangor."

The goblin let him pass, too stunned to do much else.

Harrison waved his hand over Griphook's door to make it sound like there were a bunch of small animals scratching at the wood.

The door burst open, and Griphook stormed into the corridor looking murderous. Just as he began a terrifying sounding string of his native tongue, Harrison gave a little whistle.

Griphook stopped mid-rant and visibly relaxed. "Harrison, how are you?"

"Absolutely wonderful," Harrison grinned cheekily. "And how are you on this fine Ba'afhmaka?"

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut twice. "I should wonder how you knew about our holidays, but it matters very little. Is there something you need assistance with?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Harrison began, as he followed his goblin friend into the office. He took out all of the packages. "Since I didn't catch all of their names, could you possibly distribute these to the goblins that assisted with my rituals? If there is any left, it can be split between you, Thortac and her brother. I do have gifts for the three of you, as well."

"Would you like me to summon them?" Griphook asked, eyeing the plainly wrapped packages.

"Are you sure His Majesty won't be too busy?" Harrison hesitated, not wanting to take the king away from anything important.

Waving him off, the goblin wrote out two quick notes and tossed them into the air and vanish.

"That's handy."

Griphook smirked, rolling his eyes.

They waited in comfortable silence for a few minutes before their two guests arrived.

Thortac and her brother walked in together, and wore similar expressions of subtle surprise.

Again, Harrison gave their New Year greeting and was met with amusement. "And I have presents!"

"Will you ever stop being strange?" Thortac teased, though her face was still stony.

"Of course I will!" He replied with feigned hurt. "As soon as you start using a wand."

They all burst out laughing.

Distributing the gifts, Harrison waited.

The mates dutifully waited for the King to go first, who began speaking rapidly, in what Harrison thought was German.

He blinked a few times, not knowing if those few expletives were good or bad. Honestly, it was the swearing that had alerted him to the language in the first place.

His Majesty pulled out the body armour with silent awe. He looked at the others and nodded for them to do the same .

"I got your measurements from your lovely sister. They are naturally shed basilisk skin, and as such, they are impervious to magic, including the killing curse. Well, as long as it hits the suit and not anywhere else."

Thortac opened her own to find the amulets with curiosity, which Harrison was quick to explain. That too, was met with astonishment. Amazingly, she had already known what the amulets were, having been raised on tales of the High Elves as well as many other magical races.

"Now, Griphook, before you open yours, I'm going to explain something. While they are solid gold, I imbued them with magic so that they aren't malleable or breakable. Also, only touch the handles."

Apprehensively, Griphook pulled away the paper. And promptly gasped.

"Now, those are combat ready, should you need to use them. The only reason I said not to touch the blades is because they're coated with basilisk venom. The hooks at the base aren't." Harrison smiled lightly. "I took the measurements into account, and that is scaled to size."

After chatting for a while, all of the goblins that were a part of Harrison's rituals were summoned. There were thirty-one in total.

When everything was distributed, they were quite confused. Then he told them what it was, and he was met with trepidation.

One goblin cleared his throat. "We offer our thanks, and ask… is it fresh?"

"Dear Merlin, no!" Harrison said, hoping to reassure the group. "That is from a thousand year old basilisk, and it's been dead for nearly three years. I would never give someone fresh meat." As disgusting as it sounded, that particular snake wasn't viable for consumption for at least six months after its death. Like wine, it got better with age.

He'd been slightly nauseated upon reading the information, but was now glad for it.

"Where did you come across such treasures?" His Majesty asked. "I would very much appreciate the contact information of such a dealer."

"It's mine," he said easily. "I killed the poor thing a few years ago, unfortunately. I'd have loved to have met her before she went mad. She really was a gorgeous beast. She belonged to Salazar Slytherin."

Every goblin in the room gaped.

"There you are!" Severus cried out in relief. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea what you've put us through, disappearing like that?"

Harrison blinked.

A blur of silvery white rushed toward him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Are you alright?"

The figure wasn't letting go, but Harrison couldn't even open his eyes to identify his attacker. They were gripping too tight. He couldn't breathe.

"Back off!" Two voices called out in unison.

Something like hair whipped around, hitting him in the face.

"Luce," Severus said quickly. "Lucius, let him go."

The attacker released their grip, but Harrison never saw it, backing up until he hit a wall. He stood there, shaking and his breathing hitched erratically. He wrapped his arms around himself, slowly sinking to the floor.

The twins, who had been searching on two different floors when they were abruptly summoned, slowly went closer to their lover. Like last time, they spoke calmly and softly, eventually getting him to come around.

"I really need to stop doing that," Harrison muttered, letting his head fall onto his tented knees, humiliated. It was just a fucking hug. Why did he keep falling apart like this? It was bloody infuriating.

In the end, he reminded Severus about their discussion of Ba'afhmaka, and outlined his afternoon for them.

Severus could have kicked himself for forgetting. He'd been too wrapped up in his work that it had slipped his mind.

Lucius apologized for the hug, which just served to make Harrison feel worse.

The twins followed Harrison out of the Severus' office and down to his room in Slytherin.

While all of the Slytherins looked ready to pounce at having Gryffindors in their territory, one look at Harrison shut them all up.

"Do you want us to stay, love?" Fred asked, guiding Harrison, who was half leaning on him.

Harrison nodded, tugging the covers down. He waved his hand and they were all suddenly wearing pajamas.

"Er, Harrikins?" George said awkwardly. "Did you forget something?"

Harrison was wearing silk sleep pants and a matching shirt, while the twins were only wearing the pants. He studied their muscled frames, as if in confusion. "Not that I can think of."

They grinned and climbed under the covers, wrapping him up in a tangle of pale limbs.

Harrison fell asleep with a slight smile.

Chapter 29

Chapter Notes

Sorry about the late update! I was working some (by some I mean a lot) of overtime for the holidays. Hope you all had a good one!
Anyway, this chapter did NOT want to cooperate, which is why it's a bit shorter than normal. Not too much, just enough to annoy me. On the upside, this will explain why it was necessary to curse the snot out of Harrison! I did say it was important, and now you'll get to find out why!
And... on with the show!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Oh, Luna," Harrison hissed melodically, sneaking up behind her in the Great Hall.

Without a word, she got up from the table, looped their arms together, and headed toward the library.

"It's going to be impossible for me to surprise you, isn't it?" He asked, amused.

Her head tilted slightly, as if listening to something far away. "No, not impossible. I will love it anyway. It is quite the honor, even if I am not the first."

Harrison's nose scrunched. "Sorry, Luna Bell. I needed-"

"I know," she said happily, adjusting her grip on Harrison's arm to twirl around. "And you got it. Shall we go meet our new friends?"

Luna was delighted to see the Ravenclaw library. More than the books, she had a wonderful time chatting with Alphard and Aggie. They talked for hours.

Several times during his reading, Harrison heard Alphard burst out laughing. He lifted his brows in surprise at how genuine it sounded. To him, Alphard just seemed like a bit of a grump, but Luna Bell could bring out the best in anyone given half a chance.

Harrison was studying a branch of magic he'd never heard of. Aura reading. When he thought of auras, he was stuck in the idea of those American hippies from thirty or forty years ago. Auras, vibes, marijuana, and peace signs. At first, he laughed. Then he realized that any being with even the slightest bit of magic had an aura. There were two main areas, mind and heart. It was fascinating. Both auras could combine, but that was rare. For both, there were colors to identify certain traits. As there were so many possible traits, the colors for both mind and heart overlapped with different meanings. For example, dark red for the heart meant that a person was driven by love and passion. A dark red for the mind meant the person had very little integrity. Light green for the mind signified an affinity for Earth, while the same shade for the heart was a deeply jealous person. It was all very conflicting, but fascinating nonetheless.

He had the feeling that his mind was likely royal blue, signifying that he was easily overwhelmed yet intelligent. His heart aura was probably a sickening combination of yellow and green, protective and jealous.

It was never an issue for Harrison, admitting his faults. He had felt jealousy for as long as he could remember. What little he did have, he was fiercely protective over. It made sense to him.

There was one case, where an adult was found to have white for both heart and mind. For the mind, it expressed a nearly impossible level of conscience and inner peace. For the heart, it represented purity in the sense that the person bore no ill-will and loved with unrivaled measure.

Getting a solid read on someone's aura was difficult. Some colors were permanent, while most could change by the day. It was rare to have a single color for either heart or mind. Most people averaged two or three colors for the heart, and traces of five or six for the mind, as the mind is thought to be more complex than the heart.

It sounded about right. Harrison changed his mind about a lot of things on a daily basis, but his heart rarely changed, even after his Gringotts cleansings.

Over the next few days, Harrison became happier and happier as his tremors faded more and more. After the recommended dosing was completed, he only had a few twitches once or twice per day. He was ecstatic, and rewarded his twins well.

No, he hadn't slept with either of them, but that was something that had been on his mind, more than ever as of late. He knew how male/female… relations went, but as for male/male...er/male… he didn't have a clue. The entire situation was mortifying at best. The fact that he was utterly inexperienced with anything like that with either gender was not the issue, as odd as that seemed. He didn't mind being a virgin or anything, but at least when he thought he was straight, he knew what to expect! He wasn't juvenile to wonder where things went, though he honestly struggled with the How of it all. It didn't seem possible.

While he did want answers, he really didn't want to ask anyone to outline the mechanics. Smart he might be, but at the end of the day, he was still just a teenage boy.

In the end, it was Neville that he turned to. He didn't feel comfortable going to his mum or Lucius, and his dogfathers were out for the same reason. For a split second, he had considered going to the twins and asking them outright, but he couldn't bring himself to appear so… childish? immature?

So, he went to the one person outside of his family that had never expected anything of him and had a long and humiliating talk. Neville had become a second brother over the last several months, and Harrison was grateful for it. Especially since his own brother was still less than pleased with him.

It didn't matter how many times he tried to talk to Draco, because the berk just wouldn't give him the time of day. It hurt more than he had ever anticipated, as he was still getting used to having any semblance of a family. He would have given anything to have the Dursley's ignore him the way Draco was. That would have been a dream come true, but who was he kidding? He didn't know how to be a brother anymore than Draco did. It wasn't fair to expect anything from him.

Towards the end of January, Harrison was in his Slytherin room, waiting for his friends to go down to the Chamber. Since he was early, he settled into a book.

"Hellooo-ooo?"

Harrison jerked as a hand was being waved in front of his face. He blinked.

"You think any harder, and your ears will start smoking." Neville grinned.

Sticking his tongue out, Harrison came back to himself and took his feet off the table and set down the book he'd been unintentionally ignoring.

"What's got you so lost in thought?" He asked, pulling out his homework. "Are you worried about the trials?"

Harrison's shoulders dropped. "I wasn't, but I am now. Today was the first time I was able to go more than a few hours without thinking about them."

He looked sheepish. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Harrison said with a shrug, then pointed at Neville's steadily growing pile. "Which class?"

"Potions," came the annoyed response. "I'm just glad that Snape has such high standards for sixth and seventh years, so I won't have to take his class."

"What do you mean?"

"He won't take anyone into his NEWT classes without an O on their OWLs. There are so few that pass, that he has to combine all four houses for sixth and seventh year. I've heard horror stories about how those classes go and I'm finally glad that I'm pants at something."

Harrison snickered.

"No, really!" Neville said, eyes wide. "I heard that since he only takes the best students, he makes the work harder on purpose! According to some of the upper years, Snape leaves out certain instructions or changes them, just to see if the students actually know what they're doing! A few years ago, a Hufflepuff was following the instructions exactly and wound up losing half her hand when it boiled over!"

"Miss Brandt did not lose half of her hand, Mr. Longbottom." A familiar silky voice said, drawing near. Severus stood behind a cringing Neville with his Snapey-sneer in place. "If you feel the need to spread gossip, I suggest you be sure that you have all of the facts. She lost the entire hand."

Neville let out a very manly squeak and Harrison's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"Both of you, follow me." He said severely.

Surprised, Harrison put his things away. Neville was obviously scared shitless. They both followed without a word.

The silence wasn't broken until they reached the dungeons, and it wasn't them that broke it.

The door to Severus' personal quarters was wide open and there was a lot of noise coming from inside.

Thoroughly confused, the students went in behind the unfazed professor.

Sirius and Remus were bawling their eyes out and the twins were being hugged within an inch of their lives. Severus stood off to the side with a smile.

"What's this about, mum?" Harrison asked, bewildered.

"Mum?!" Neville yelped, looking at his brother in all but blood.

"We did it!" The twins shouted as the two remaining Marauders cried harder. Fred was picked up and spun around by a sobbing Remus.

"Did what?" Harrison asked, wishing he was still able to yell. They were so loud! What was making them go so bloody mental?

"Neville!" Remus said, finally letting Fred go. "Neville, come in!"

"Professor Lupin?" Neville asked nervously, eyes darting around the room. "What's going on?"

"Holy shit, you weren't kidding," Sirius said, sniffling. "He really does look like Alice."

Neville's eyes bugged. "You're Sirius Black."

Sirius nodded happily, releasing George. "I am," he said, wiping his eyes. "Remmy and I are going to take you on a little field trip."

He paled. "What?"

"Okay, someone needs to start explaining, before Nev has a heart attack." Harrison said, just as lost.

"Sit, doggies!" The twins called out over the nonsensical babbling of Sirius and Remus.

Harrison snorted, conjuring enough seats for all of them.

"Right," George began. "Best to start at the start, I suppose."

"That would be appreciated, I'm sure." Severus smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Fred continued for his twin. "When Gred and I were working on Harrikins' potion, we were approached by our favorite mass-murderer, here." He pointed to Sirius. "And he asked us about adjusting our formula. He had mentioned a couple of his friends that were affected by the same curse as our dear Harrikins, and was hopeful that we might be able to help, despite the fact that Healers said their conditions were permanent."

Harrison's brow knit.

"Okay?" Neville said, naturally confused. "What's that got to do with me being here?"

"Well," George picked up where his twin left off. "We weren't sure, but we're always up for a challenge. Anyway, their friends have been magically sedated to the point of incoherency for nearly fifteen years to keep their violent, full-bodied tremors from causing more damage to themselves and others."

There was a small gasp from a teary-eyed Neville.

"We took some time to figure out how to concentrate the potion even more than we had to for Harrison, which is why we've been so busy this past week. After changing almost the entire bloody thing around, we figured it out." Fred said, getting a bit tearful.

Neville's heart was hammering in his chest.

Harrison was watching them closely, wondering what the hell they were talking about.

The twins sat on either side of the younger Gryffindor. "Nev," George said carefully. "Siri and Professor Lupin are going to take you to St. Mungo's-"

"So you can meet your parents. They're awake." Fred concluded.

Tears were streaming down all their faces, except for Harrison's, who knew nothing about Neville's parents.

Despite the fact that he was sitting, Neville fainted.

When he came to, he launched himself at Fred, who just happened to be closest. He lavished them with praise and thanks so much that they turned bright red and seemed to lose the ability to speak.

"So," Harrison said, giving a small sniffle. "When are you lot going?"

Siri hopped to his feet. "As soon as Neville here is ready to go."

Still dazed with the information, Neville nodded and stood. He started toward the door without a word, but a look of determination on his paler than usual face.

"I guess he's ready to go," Remus said with a chuckle. "Come on then, Pads. Let's go see Frank and Alice."

The twins just couldn't hold back their tears of joy.

Harrison felt their pride welling up in his chest and beamed at them.

Alice Longbottom squinted at the two men who walked into their hospital room. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Sirius? Remus?" They aged.

"You guys got old," Frank said lightly, despite the situation.

Sirius scoffed. "You're one to talk. Besides, you are a year older than me."

They smiled sadly.

"Gods," Remus breathed. "I still can't believe you're awake after all this time."

"January twenty-eighth, nineteen ninety-six." Frank said tearfully. "That's what the Healer said. Mother was owled this morning, but she hasn't come by yet."

"We brought something for you." Sirius grinned.

"No matter what it is, Sirius Black, we still won't sleep with you!" Alice said adamantly, thinking back on their Hogwarts years.

"You might change your minds, but he's taken anyway." Remus said with a smirk.

Sirius pushed open the door.

Neville stepped into the room hesitantly. "Hi, mum. Hi, dad."

The Longbottom Lord and Lady wore identical astonished expressions. "Neville?" Alice breathed in disbelief.

With that, Neville rushed to the small space between their beds and broke down sobbing.

Frank and Alice wrapped him in tight hugs, sobbing just as hard as their son. Their fifteen year old son. Their baby was fifteen years old.

"Is it wrong for me to thank you?" Neville asked, settling into his tea in the feared Potions Master's private chambers the next morning.

Harrison was startled. "Me? What for?" He leaned back into Fred's arms, his legs across George's lap.

"For getting the MT mad enough to curse you like that…"

Much to their collective shock, Harrison let out an awkward laugh. "In that case, I'm happy to be of service."

The twins smirked and Severus chuckled.

"Though, to be honest," Harrison said, sobering slightly. "The way she was acting that night… it was odd."

"How so?" Severus asked, blowing on his coffee.

"Normally, she would wait for something she could punish me for, no matter how stupid. That night, however, she was twitchy and it almost sounded like she was in pain. I was confused, but when I looked up, she started shouting about some things that didn't quite make sense. It was like she was talking to someone else. Then, out of nowhere, she's cursing the daylights out of me. It doesn't track."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Harrison." Severus said pragmatically. "Insane people can be triggered at the slightest thing on occasion. In truth, it could have been something as small as the way you scratched your neck or shifted in your seat. There truly is no telling."

Still, the more Harrison thought about it, the more uneasy he became.

Chapter End Notes

Let me know your thoughts! By the way, that bit on auras was not taken from anywhere, just complete BS on my part. There is no research or anything like that involved. If it's wrong from how you know/understand it, that's why.
Happy New Year!

Chapter 30

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the wait! Holidays and family and overtime at work have kept me pretty busy lately. I know I missed last week, but hopefully this chapter can make up for it!
And on with the story!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

With the trials of his former friends and Umbridge coming up, Harrison was becoming more and more worried. Logically, he knew that the law really was on his side, but that didn't stop him from being nervous. Could it really be that... easy? All of the things they had done certainly warranted a long holiday at Azkaban, but it seemed… anti-climactic somehow.

Either way, Harrison was sleeping less and less as the days passed. He needed something. Someone. Dreamless sleep couldn't be taken more than a few consecutive days, and he was already on day three. It didn't help matters that even on the potion, he was getting maybe four hours a night. Double dosing was out since it ran the risk of putting him into a coma.

Harrison sighed. He needed his twins.

Holding his palm flat on his bedroom door, he let his magic mingle with the castle's and opened the door. As he passed the threshold, he tripped, but regained his balance quickly. That was one of the things he'd noticed as he explored his abilities with the castle. Now, it wasn't an exact science, though it was fun to try to figure out. He was only able to connect to the founders' areas from other founders' areas. For this particular trip, he used the connection from his bedroom in the Slytherin dorms to go to the War Room in Gryffindor tower.

On several occasions, he'd used the connection to get closer to his classes when he was running a bit late. Incidentally, that was how he found them in the first place. Having been attempting to get a few more minutes of desperately needed sleep, he'd been stumbling around his room and put his hand on the door for balance as he used the other to put on his shoe. The entire time, he was bemoaning being late to class. So, when he opened the door, he was astonished to find himself in Rowena's library, just around the corner from his class.

So, he spent a little time (a lot of time) fiddling around with the new toy, to discover all of the things it could do. He learned that he couldn't connect with any of the founder's rooms that he hadn't seen yet, but if he concentrated, he could feel them.

Salazar had the Chamber, but Harrison was using the man's bedroom. Rowena had a library, and he could feel another thread of her magic leading to a different room. It was likely her bedroom too. The same thing with Godric. There was a thread to his War Room, and another thread to somewhere else. He still hadn't found Helga's room, or her bedroom. He couldn't follow the threads though, which was exciting. He was going to have to explore the castle some more to find the hidden rooms. It was like a treasure hunt, and he was really looking forward to it!

Anyway, Harrison crept out of the War Room and snuck up to the twins' dorm.

"Hello, love," Fred said with a sleepy smile, not surprised at Harrison's sudden appearance.

George just yawned and waved, collecting the muggle playing cards from the conjured table between their beds. "It's twelve thirty-two, Freddie. I win."

"Win what?" Harrison asked, sitting by George as he was closer. He let his head fall onto George's shoulder.

"I guessed that you would show up between eleven and midnight." Fred shrugged. "Georgie said between midnight and one, so he won the bet." He tossed a single sickle on the table.

"M'kay," Harrison replied. "Wait, how did you know I'd be up at all?"

"You've been taking dreamless sleep for a few days," George said, carding his fingers through Harrison's hair. "Couldn't take it again, so you'd have to figure out something else."

"What could be better than two full-sized body pillows for a good sleep?" Fred asked, taking his hand. "D'you want to sleep up here, or in your room?"

"Go on and make your bets," Harrison joked, giving them a chance to barter their sickles. He watched in amusement as their brows furrowed or raised, leading him to believe that they were using their 'twin-telepathy' thing to decide. When they stopped, he stood. "Come on. My bed is massive, and only one person sleeping there is outright wasteful."

"Told you," Fred smirked, swiping the sickle off the table.

"So go already!" Lee said grumpily from his bed. "Some of us have company too."

"Oh, stop," came an amused voice. "They're cute."

Harrison blushed, not realizing that Lee wasn't alone. He immediately looked at the floor when he noticed that Heidi was only covered from the hips down and that she was nude.

Lee snorted. "That's why I like rooming with gay guys. They never ogle my woman."

Heidi dissolved into sleepy giggles. "Sorry, Harry." She pulled the covers up.

The twins didn't seem bothered at all by the nudity. It must be a common occurrence.

Bleary eyed, the twins followed Harrison to the War Room without comment. They were, however, confused when he closed the door, then put his hand flat on it. When he opened the door again, their jaws dropped.

Now more alert, George spoke first. "How did you do that?"

Harrison explained quickly, waving his hand to change his clothes into pajamas. "Can we go to sleep now?" He whined with an exaggerated pout.

Chuckling, Fred pulled back the covers and waited for Harrison to crawl in, while George jumped in on the other side.

Facing Fred, Harrison tugged George closer to his back and entwined their fingers. He rested his head on Fred's chest and fell into a blissful sleep.

When Harrison woke, he froze. Still wrapped up in their arms, he noticed a couple… issues, one of which was his own, the other was poking him in the lower back.

How was he supposed to get out of this? He was still lying on Fred, and George was still spooned around him from the back! There was no way for him to climb out of the bed without waking at least one of them! That was not something he could take care of in front of them, but he was trapped!

He stayed completely still, willing away his problem by thinking of kissing McGonagall. It seemed to be working until George started moving. It wasn't much movement, but his breathing hitched a few times and he let out a few quiet sounds. He was clearly having an… interesting dream.

Harrison bit his lip as another soft sigh warmed his neck. He smiled as he heard his name, slurred from sleep.

George shifted again, more firmly this time, and Harrison couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

Clapping a hand over his mouth, he fought to control his shaking shoulders. It was hilarious!

Fred yawned, stirring. "Issit m'rnin?"

He couldn't reply, because if he uncovered his mouth, he'd burst out laughing. Instead, he nodded.

Blinking a few times, Fred felt Harrison shaking. "Hey, are you alright?" Had the potion somehow worn off? Nothing in their research said that it wouldn't be permanent! It was supposed to be permanent! He sat bolt upright.

When Harrison jerked forward abruptly, his hand slipped and he began laughing himself senseless.

Shocked and more than a little confused, Fred cast a low-powered lumos.

Harrison was borderline hysterical as George slowly rutted into his back, fast asleep.

Poking his twin with his wand, Fred waited for him to wake. With the noise Harrison was making, it didn't take long.

"Wha'?" He looked around, barely awake. He touched Harrison's shoulder. "You 'kay?"

"Yeah," came the humor-filled reply. "And apparently so are you."

George's eyes finally opened fully. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Aw, don't worry, Georgie," Fred said, brow raised. "Bit like a brick calling a stone hard, isn't it?"

Harrison blushed bright red. "I blame you for this," he muttered, covering his face.

With a grin, George pulled the covers aside. "I think I'll go have a shower. A cold one."

Without a second thought, Harrison flung out his arm to stop the excited redhead. "Wait!"

They both turned to stare at him.

Erm… Say something, you idiot! "You don't have to. Go, I mean." Smooth. Real smooth. "We could share one later . Just so long as it isn't… er, cold." Oh, Merlin! He was just making it worse!

George's jaw dropped.

"Are you sure?" Fred asked with a glint in his eye.

Harrison bit his lip and nodded.

Runes, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Defense. All four professors collapsed into heaps on the various floors as a strange flash rippled throughout the castle. Along with them were the infirmary matron, the caretaker, and as the light swept out towards the grounds, the professors for Care and Herbology joined them.

The very walls glowed and shook. The suits or armor rattled. A history professor smiled as he vanished.

In the kitchens, one hundred ninety-six elves froze on the spot and threw aside hundreds of articles of hideous children's clothes aside, and got back to work. Not one of them noticed as they each grew a few inches, or that their very skin faded from sickly grey to their more healthy shades of peach or warm brown tones. They had jobs to do after all.

Up in the headmaster's office, an angry bird burst into flames and many of the portraits began to wake for the first time in fifty years.

Deep in the forbidden forest, a herd of centaurs looked to the dawning sky with light hearts and breaths of relief. It was as the stars foretold.

Seventeen unicorns stood in a circle as nine of their own began to foal. The yellow light was dull compared to the glowing gold of the glen.

In Hogsmeade, a barman collapsed, a broken down house repaired itself and the streets were cleared of everything that wasn't the freshly fallen snow. Cracks filled, rubbish vanished, dulled wallpaper brightened and rips mended.

"HARRISON POTTER SNAPE!" A silvery winged doe shouted. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Harrison jerked upright, as did the redheads on either side of him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, not fully registering what the doe said. He had been sleeping so well! Harrison was not happy to be woken so violently.

Gritting his teeth, he summoned his patronus. He wanted the basilisk because it was one of the scarier forms. "Message to mum," he said calmly.

Severus was hurrying down the hall with Lucius and Professor Flitwick in tow. They had each sent their patroni to various members of staff when the call came about many of the staff being unconscious all over the school. Minerva was found first, as a third year Hufflepuff wanted to ask for some help regarding homework or extra credit before breakfast. Over the next half hour, several more were discovered in similar states.

Filius tapped into the castle's magic and declared that all students were to go back to their common rooms and that breakfast would be served there. He added that classes were to be cancelled for the day at Lucius' suggestion. They couldn't very well teach several hundred students with only a third of the staff conscious.

Just as the odd trio came upon Mr. Filch, a massive, angrily hissing basilisk patronus was slithering up the corridor with impressive speed. It got very close to Severus, before unhinging it's terrifyingly large jaw and hissed in his face.

"How dare you?" It hissed furiously. "I don't know what the hell you're blaming me for, but your fucking patronus just forcibly woke me from my first non-potion induced sleep in Merlin knows how long! Whatever the hell you think I did could have been discussed in person! I swear on all that's holy, you'd better have a good reason for doing that." The voice, no less angry, dropped its volume to a more acceptable level. "If it happened between one am and now, I couldn't have had anything to do with it, as I have been in bed!"

Severus groaned and Lucius sighed.

"What did you do?" Lucius asked, conjuring a stretcher for Mr. Filch.

Filius was also curious, but was checking over Mrs. Norris, who was unconscious under Argus' robes. It was then that he noticed that there was nothing wrong with her (besides the lack of consciousness) and in fact, she looked much healthier than he'd seen in years. Her bald patches were filled in, her tail was no longer crooked and she didn't look like a skeleton anymore. What in Merlin's name was happening?

He gently tugged the stretcher down to his level and gasped. "Oh, my!" He squeaked, catching the attention of the other two. "Look at them!" He said, lying Mrs. Norris next to him on the gurney.

The low volume bickering came to a halt as they stared at two prone forms in astonishment. Argus seemed to have de-aged by at least a decade. His hair and cheeks were fuller and his legs didn't seem to be bowed anymore. Both figures were shimmering almost imperceptibly.

Lucius' brow furrowed as he held his hand just above the man's chest. "That's not possible!" He shouted, forgetting himself.

"I don't understand…" Filius said, just as bewildered. "I feel it too."

"Feel what?" Severus asked, unable to see the shimmer.

"One of my abilities as a magical creature is to see magical cores." Lucius breathed, still not comprehending.

"I am perfectly well aware of that," Severus replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What does that have to do with Argus? Everyone knows that squibs have magical cores, they just can't use them."

"Argus Filch has always carried a faint shimmer of magic, but… I-I don't understand. The man now has a fully functioning core. It makes no sense." Lucius tried to explain.

"And this is no cat," Filius said, also able to see and feel the shimmer as a half-goblin. "It is a kneazle, hardly out of its youth. Mrs. Norris has been here for over ten years, and no one was surprised that she was in such bad shape, but now, she's as healthy as a hippogriff. This is incredible!"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. What the hell happened here?

As they made their way up the stairs, they found Harrison coming out of the library.

He still looked pissed. "Well? What am I being blamed for now?" He demanded, crossing his arms.

Severus raised his brow at his son's aggressive stance. "Do you happen to know anything about the fact that a large portion of the staff has, and still are, being found unconscious all throughout the castle?"

Harrison blinked and saw the stretcher carrying Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris. He shook his head slowly, just as lost as they were. Placing his hands on the nearest wall, he closed his eyes.

Before Lucius could ask what Harrison was doing, his husband stopped him, a curious look on his face.

"Professor Sprout is in greenhouse four, Hagrid is in his hut, Professor Binns is completely gone, Professor Trelawney isn't in the building, nor is Dumbledore, Professor Vector is near the kitchens, and Madam Pince is in her sitting room." Harrison said, eyes still closed. "The centaurs and unicorns are celebrating, the acromantula have retreated to a cave system just east of the forest and Madam Pomfrey is waking in her office. The rest of the staff is out looking for all of them." He let out a long breath as he opened his eyes.

Lucius quickly grabbed Harrison by the shoulders to steady his swaying son. "Are you alright?"

Harrison shook his fogged head. "Head rush." More tired than before, he let his head rest on Lu- his fathers' shoulder. "That was… really intense."

Tightening his grip, Lucius caught him just as his legs crumpled. He scooped up Harrison's legs and carried him bridal style, behind the floating gurney toward the infirmary.

When Harrison woke, he was lying in an all-too familiar bed.

"Harrison?!" Came a voice from nowhere. "Where are you?! What's going on?!"

It was George, but he was nowhere in sight. He felt a surge of panic, but it wasn't what he had become accustomed to. It… it wasn't his panic…? "George?" He asked in his mind. "Can you hear me?"

A rush of relief crashed over Harrison with surprising force. "Oh, thank Merlin! We felt you pass out and we've been calling every few minutes. We're stuck in the Slytherin common room, as the school seems to have gone into lock-down."

"But," Fred's voice cut in. "Since we weren't suddenly apparated to your side, we figured you weren't in any real danger."

Embarrassment trickled through from George.

Harrison quickly went over what little he knew, and finished up as Madam Pomfrey pulled back his curtains.

"Lunchtime!" She said happily and a tray appeared on his bedside table. Soup and sandwiches were accompanied by his crudely painted carafe.

He noted that there was a regular coffee mug in place of his Yule gift from Dobby.

"Now, I want you to finish all of that before I even think about letting you leave." She said with faux sternness. "Severus told me what you did. Connecting to the castles' magic was a silly thing to do on an empty stomach! It's no wonder you wore yourself out!"

It was almost a knee-jerk reaction to start complaining that he didn't need to be there, but he stopped himself. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey."

Her gaze softened. "You'll be just fine. I'm sure Pomona would like to thank you. The door to the greenhouse was open, and many of her plants would have died, being exposed to the cold like that."

Unsure of how to respond, he merely smiled. He looked around and saw that several beds were occupied. Two had the curtains drawn, but Madam Pince, Professor Vector and Professor Sprout were all sitting up in bed and there were two people in Healer's robes checking them over. They seemed to be in good spirits, munching away on their own lunches, happily ignoring the Healers until spoken to.

Harrison gaped at seeing the historically bitter librarian smiling. He was about to ask after her when he remembered that the matron didn't have her own ear cuff. Wait. Hadn't she understood him just a moment ago, along with his parents and Professor Flitwick in the corridor? "Madam Pomfrey? Merlin's balls! I can speak English again!"

"Not for long if you keep saying things like that!" She brandished her wand at him in a non-threatening way.

He paused in confusion. "Why are there goblins at the front gate?"

"What?" She asked, making her way to the window. "How could you possibly...? How did you know that?" There they were. A contingent of no less than a dozen goblins stood at the front gate!

Harrison let them through the wards. It was no more than a thought, but it worked regardless.

It was only a matter of minutes before there came a few echoing knocks on the massive wooden doors. They were obviously impatient, as the doors were pushed open without having been answered by anyone in the room.

Shocked, Harrison leapt out of bed. "What are you doing here?" He asked, happy to see his goblin friends. Upon further inspection, he saw the king. "Your Majesty. Has something happened?"

Madam Pomfrey finally snapped out of it. "Back into bed, young man!"

Harrison held up his hands in surrender. "I'm going, I'm going." He waved the contingent to follow him to his usual bed.

"What have you done this time, little lord?" Thortac sighed.

"I'm fine, Thortac, just a bit wrung out." He said honestly. "Poppy here overreacts worse than you do!" Waving his hand, he turned three of the nearest beds into benches short enough for them to use without having to hop.

Thortac raised her brow. "I'll be the judge of that," she said, chanting in the same low tone as last time.

Waiting in amusement, Harrison leaned back and let her work her magic. "All done?" He asked with a smirk when she finished.

She grumbled and climbed onto the foot of his bed, rather than one of the modified benches.

"All right, then. What's going on?"

It was Griphook that answered. "Business, of course."

"And to offer our congratulations," interjected the king.

Congratulations? "Your Majesty?"

"On your bonding, little Lord!" He proclaimed, and each of the goblins slammed the handles of their spears on the ground seven times. They finished with a few words in their native tongue.

"What do you mean, your Majesty?" How many more surprises would the day hold? It was only lunchtime!

The king smiled, shocking the life out of Madam Pomfrey. "Where are your Gemini? They need to be presented with the Lord Consort rings immediately, as your bond was consummated several hours ago."

Harrison gasped, blushing deeply.

"Mr. Potter?!" The matron shrieked. "You-"

"Silence, human!" Silverax said, thumping his spear down once more. "This is a goblin matter!"

"This is a human school, and as such, Harry Potter is no goblin!" She proclaimed.

Suddenly every spear was mere inches from her throat.

"Whoa, hey!" Harrison called out. "Stop! She doesn't know, okay?" When they pulled back a little, he continued. "Madam Pomfrey, you know I adore you, but you need to apologize and walk away."

Gaping, the matron muttered some kind of apology and sequestered herself in the office.

"Alright, two questions," Harrison said calmly. "First, how did you know that I… er, I bonded? And second, why do you need the twins here? We haven't married." Yet.

Thortac cackled. "Marriage ceremonies are just useless in the case of bonds such as yours. The moment you consummated the bond, you became legally 'married'."

"Your Gemini must be given their rings," the king explained easily. "And your Lordship status can no longer be hidden as a result."

"Of course not," Harrison groaned. "Anyway, how did you know?"

"First was the power surge." Griphook supplied. "Given your status as a goblin, the surge reached across all of goblin territory. No other magic could have reached our territories from such a distance. The second was that as Lord to so many lines, all changes in status are immediately recorded by their account managers for legal purposes."

Oh. Er, okay? "The school is in lockdown right now, but I can either take you to them, or bring them here. They're either in my room or the Slytherin common area. Which would you prefer?"

"We will follow you." The king said with a quick nod. "Lead the way, young Lord."

Chapter End Notes

Does that make up for my severe tardiness? Let me know what you guys think!

Chapter 31

Chapter Notes

Bold font is 'bond speak'. It's pretty easy to figure out, but I didn't want there to be any confusion.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Harrison felt… well, stupid, as he lead the goblin contingent down to the dungeons. How could he not have known about this? He was married?! At fifteen no less! And now his lord status would be outed!

With his mind running through various (and equally ridiculous) plans for damage control, he didn't notice Professor Flitwick until he almost ran into him.

"Sorry, Professor," he said absently.

"You! Stop!" Came a shout from somewhere in the ranks of goblin soldiers.

Both Harrison and Professor Flitwick froze.

"What's wrong?" Harrison asked.

His question wasn't answered, but it didn't matter.

"What is your name?" The King asked.

The professor let out a squeak, hurrying to bow. "I am Filius Longsword Flitwick, your most fearsome Majesty!"

"Rise!" The King commanded.

As told, the professor stood straight.

"You hold precious little goblin blood, do you not?"

"Yes, your Majesty," he replied, bowing his head slightly. "My grandmother was a goblin in His Majesty's service."

"Shanktac?" His tone indicated that he had known the professor's grandmother well.

Startled, the professor looked up. "Yes, your Majesty. She was my paternal grandmother."

"Were you trained in the tongue?" He asked, narrowing his gaze.

"Regrettably, very little, your Majesty." Came the sad response. "Upon my fourth birthday, my parents came to the conclusion that I did not carry enough of the blood to warrant goblin training. They decided to explain my stature as a human midget, rather than one of the blood. "

Harrison was surprised, but remained silent.

The goblins were pissed.

The King put a stop to the angry murmurs by simply raising his left hand. "Do you share the sentiments of your bearers?"

"No, your Majesty!" He said immediately. "Since my majority, I have never hidden my lineage. At that time, I realized that hiding my heritage was of the utmost disrespect to my blood. I would never deny my noble-"

"Enough," the king said, cutting him off. "You will accompany my kin." He started moving again, letting Harrison lead them once more.

Professor Flitwick gasped. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Two must be added to our ranks, and you will not participate. You will observe."

"It would be an immense honor, your Majesty."

Harrison nudged his magic into his snake pendant, effectively shutting it off. "So mean," he teased in parseltongue, finally getting to the first floor of the dungeons. "Flitwick is a damned good professor, and is nearly undefeated as a professional duellist."

"I will have someone take him aside," the king said with a sharp nod. "They will determine his worthiness, or lack thereof."

"That's all I ask, your Majesty." Harrison smiled.

As usual, the door opened as he approached.

"Chins up, you two. We have company." He whispered through the bond.

"I'm in the bath!" Fred said.

Harrison pushed a small amount of urgency through. "Your Majesty, we should wait in the common room for a moment."

As he passed through the portrait, the Slytherins exploded with questions and a few accusations.

"Everyone!" He called out in English. "Quiet! I have spoken with a few members of staff, and no one is sure what is going on. It looks like we've got a long weekend to look forward to."

The noise started back up again, so Harrison waved his hand over the masses to cast a silencing bubble around them.

"Harry?" Professor Flitwick said, unsurely. "Did you just do that wandlessly and wordlessly?"

Oops. He hadn't bothered taking his wand this morning. "They're a loud bunch, given the right circumstances, sir." He said apologetically, undoing his spell.

There was little noise now that there was a professor present.

The goblin contingent marched through, letting their spear handles thunk on the stone floors when they assembled and stopped.

"Fred, are you nearly done? I think our guests are scaring the Slytherins." He asked mentally.

"I'm getting dressed now. Just a minute."

Harrison bit back a groan. "Sorry, your Majesty. One of my… mates… was indisposed. It'll only be another moment or so."

"Don't fret, little Lord." He replied easily, before switching back to English. "Our arrival was abrupt. It is understandable."

Rather than the shouts from earlier, there were vehement whispers floating around.

"Hey!" One voice called out. "Harrison!"

Turning, he saw Draco being pushed forward by Blaise.

"Fine! I'm going!" Draco whisper-hissed. He looked at his brother grudgingly. "Do you have a minute?"

Shocked that his twin was actually acknowledging him, Harrison's brows rose. "Um, that'll depend on His Majesty for right now."

Draco looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head. "What?"

Harrison nodded toward the Goblin King, who shook his head. "Give me an hour or so, then we'll talk. Okay? I want this mess cleared up too."

"Young Lord," Fangor said, getting his attention.

Turning, he saw his bedroom door had opened and Fred was staring at them in blatant confusion. "What's going on, Harrison?"

"In private, young Sgiath Teine." The King said, making his way into Harrison's bedroom.

Harrison followed, brows raised in surprise at the use of Gaelic. "Fire Shield?" He asked as the door closed.

"Yes, little Lord." Fangor nodded. "This twin is named for his nature, both bloodline as he is Scottish, and his place as the defensive side of the Gemini."

"So, what name was George given?" He asked, fascinated.

"Claidheamh Teine." The King answered.

"Fire Sword." Harrison clarified.

"His place as protector lies on the offensive side of the Gemini." Fangor explained.

Wow. Harrison simply nodded.

"Little Lord, if you will kneel?" The King asked.

Hurriedly, he rushed to comply. He knelt directly in front of the Goblin King.

"Claidheamh Teine, on his left. Sgiath Teine, on his right." He instructed.

Without hesitation, Fred and George took their places. As one, the triad bowed their heads and clasped hands, eyes closed.

The goblins took their places, forming a semicircle sound them, leaving the King space in front of the trio. The spear handles thudded in time with his Majesty's words. "Ceangail an claidheamh agus an sgiath ris a 'chridhe. Ceangail iad tro dhleastanas agus gràdh. Tro amannan furasta agus amannan cunnartach. Gum faigh iad neart agus sìth ann an càch a chèile."

Magic swelled around the room, swirling through the air.

The triad remained still, breathing quickened.

His Majesty paused before reciting the words in English. "Bind the sword and the shield to the core. Bind them through duty and love. Through times of ease and times of peril. May they find strength and peace in one another."

Taking on an almost tangible feel, the swirling magic sped, lifting hair and shifting clothes of all those present.

Once more the King spoke, but the humans, and part human, could not understand the gobbledygook.

When the chant finished, the spear handles landed as one seven times, much harder than during the chants.

The triad was lifted from their places on the floor, supported only by the swirling tendrils of magic, filling each of them with a sense of weightless euphoria.

"George Fabian Weasley," The King said. "Bound in magic, you are Lord Consort George Fabian Peverell, Claidheamh Teine, and fully fledged member of the Goblin Nation.

"Harrison Potter Snape," he continued. "Bound in magic, you are Lord Peverell-Black, Gaisgeach Cridhe, and fully fledged member of the Goblin Nation.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley," he said, moving down the line. "Bound in magic, you are Lord Consort Frederick Gideon Black, Sgiath Teine, and fully fledged member of the Goblin Nation."

One final thud of the spear handles on the stone floor echoed as the bound triad lowered slowly to the floor and the swirling magic slowed to a halt.

As the triad came to their senses, they gasped for air, tightening their grips on each other's hands.

Harrison was the first to open his eyes. The King had called him Heart Warrior in Gaelic. He was unable to fully identify the intense rush of emotions flowing through his body.

Similarly, the twins were experiencing the rush, leaning back on their heels in unison, overwhelmed.

"Bring forth your entwined hands for the blessings of your clansmen."

The twins resituated, bringing their hands forward.

Knowing they were still a bit shaky, Harrison allowed them to move at their own paces.

One by one, the goblins approached, spoke different things in gobbledygook.

"You may rise," the King said when they finished. He smiled at them. "I would like to offer my congratulations to this union. Sister."

Thortac came forward, with a small trunk. From it, she removed a deceptively large crest, made entirely of ornately carved goblin steel. In the crest, there were depictions of their Gaelic titles surrounded by incredibly realistic etched flames. It was incredible.

"On behalf of my bonded and all of the lines I command, I thank Your Majesty's generosity. It's beautiful." Harrison said, still in awe.

One by one, the goblins approached them, leaving various trinkets in a pile. They ranged from simple, such as a wooden figurine depicting three entwined snakes, to extravagant, such as a set of three jewel encrusted silver goblets or the set of pure gold scales. When all was said and done, there was an impressive pile of gifts.

Harrison couldn't believe it. The prices or quality of the gifts didn't matter to him, but the thought of receiving such things from the people who claimed him as one of their own… It was an incredible feeling. It felt like coming home. "Thank you all." He choked out, unable to find words that could relay how deeply their gesture touched him.

The twins grabbed his hands, giving them a squeeze.

Together they watched several duels, each being one on one with a dizzying amount of weaponry, enraptured.

"According to my reading," Harrison explained. "As members of the Goblin Nation, they are showing us how well we are protected. It's the goblin equivalent of a blessing for safety. The duels will end when everyone has lost to His Majesty. They won't make it easy. If a King or Queen cannot beat their subordinates, they are not fit to bear their titles and will be immediately stricken from their 'throne' so to speak."

"What happens if the King is removed?" George asked, enamored by the display.

"He will be replaced when a full-scale dueling challenge can be arranged. Whoever comes out on top will take over. If that happens, the King will surrender his weapons and step aside, while still maintaining an unwavering amount of respect from the rest of the Nation until the day he dies. It isn't a dishonor to his family. They will be revered until their line is gone, but it gives another family a chance to rise in station. Nearly everyone here is a direct descendant of one Royal or another. It's how they remain so close. Them doing this battle now, for us, is an honor usually only granted to the members of this circle."

Humility and awe surged through all three of them, none knowing exactly who it came from. Harrison figured it came from all of them and was merely amplified. They were being counted among His Majesty's closest. Aside from being actually crowned, there was no higher honor in the Goblin Nation.

Despite the fact that a woman nearly ripped his leg off, two hours later, His Majesty was victorious. Bloody and bruised, but victorious.

Harrison felt Fred's magic moving. It didn't take long to figure out what it was doing. "Freddie, leave the scars. It is incredibly important that they keep their battle scars."

Fred's eyes remained closed as his magic pulsed through the ranks. Blood flow stopped, bones snapped back into place mended and bruises faded, but the scars remained.

"Many thanks, Sgiath Tiene," His Majesty smirked. "We will leave you, now. I will apologize to your brother for taking so much of your time."

Harrison's eyes went wide. Draco! So much for only an hour. He hoped the blond wasn't too upset.

With seven well timed thumps of their spears, the goblins filed out of the room.

Harrison stopped George from getting up. "If you escort them out," he whispered. "They'll think you don't trust them to themselves in our house."

George's brow raised. "Really?"

He nodded, not moving until he heard the outer portrait swing shut. When he did finally move, it was to flop back on his bed. Staring at the canopy above, he began sorting through the events of the day.

"What the hell was that?" Draco half-shouted. "It sounded like a bloody massacre in here!"

Harrison nudged a suggestion through the bond and waited, propping himself up on his elbows to watch.

The twins rushed over to Draco and kissed his cheeks while wrapping him in a hug. "We got a new brother!" George said loudly.

"And he's not a redhead!" Fred added.

They kept kissing his cheeks until Draco struggled free of their grip, stumbling to Harrison's bed. "Will you at least explain? And what is all this?" He pointed out the pile of gifts.

"Wedding presents," Harrison said, yawning. How was it still so early? He was ready for bed.

"WHAT?!" The blond squawked.

"Yeah, apparently if people are already bonded, the ceremony isn't necessary." He let his elbows give up, dropping back onto the mattress.

"Only after it's consummated!" Draco gasped. He looked at the bed, then climbed off, wiping his hands on his robes. "So… you're married now?"

"That's what they tell me." Harrison shrugged. He didn't know how he felt about it. Of course he loved the twins, and he had already planned on being with them forever, but he hadn't expected this to happen.

"You know, love," Fred said, sensing his concern. Pulling his husband in close. "We can still have a ceremony for humans whenever you want." He propped his chin on Harrison's shoulder.

"You've got to admit, though," George said, crossing his legs on the bed. "That was amazing. Not exactly traditional for wizards, but amazing either way."

Draco huffed. "Figures."

Harrison ground internally, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Draco sighed. "Nothing, but I demand to be a part of your human wedding. I expect to be one of your groomsmen, if not the best man. Let's face it, brother, I am the best."

"Your ego gets any bigger, and your head won't even fit up there." Harrison snorted. "Listen, about Angelina-"

"Don't," he cut in. "I get it. Though, I do finally understand what you meant about not understanding my lineage. I, er, I was raised with a hefty amount of prejudices. It's not that shocking that you would wonder if racism was one of them… Blaise made me realize that you had asked a question, and not actually accused me of anything. I was just so pissed off that I think I might have blocked some of it out. So… I'm sorry."

Harrison smiled at his twin.

Letting out a groan, Draco closed the short distance between them and hugged his brother.

"Aw, Freddie, I think little Drakey-poo's head shrunk to normal size!" George joked, as they released each other.

Fred nodded. "Maybe enough to even stand in our future wedding party."

"Which will not take place while we're still in school." Harrison grumbled. "At least wait until summer."

"Well, of course!" Draco said, as if horrified by the thought. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to plan a Malfoy-worthy gathering? Besides, this will be the social event of the century! Now that I think about it, it would be best to wait until next summer, not this one. There's too much to do. We'll have to-"

"We'll have to stop!" Harrison interrupted. "I am not going to have some over-the-top circus for a wedding!"

"Don't start arguing," Fred said, standing between the two. "There are more important things to deal with, right now, for all of us. Like the fact that our families have no idea that we've married."

All four of them froze at that.

"Oh, shit." Harrison and Draco said together.

Draco burst out laughing. "Mum and Dad are going to kill you three!" He kept laughing. "And your pa- brothers are going to be so mad." He stopped laughing, remembering the letters over Yule break. Their mother was insane and their father… He felt horrible, having forgotten. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

The redheaded twins gave weak smiles. "It's okay," they said, tears forming. They wouldn't get to share their lives with their father anymore. He wouldn't be at their 'human' wedding. He wouldn't get to meet their future children. He wouldn't get to see the shop they wanted to open. No more birthdays. No more holidays. No more new muggle electric things clogging up the shelves.

Draco excused himself, allowing them privacy.

The newly married triad didn't reemerge from their room until an announcement throughout the castle let them know that dinner was going to be served in the Great Hall. It took Harrison a while to force himself to leave their bedroom, but his exhaustion would hold up for another hour. Or six. He still had to speak with his parents.

On the upside, Fred and George promised to go with him, despite fearing slightly for their lives.

Both sets of twins went to the Slytherin table.

"Wasn't it just lovely?" Luna's dreamy voice asked from behind Fred. She took a seat next to him, sighing. "Isn't His Majesty sweet?"

Harrison gasped. "Luna Bell, please tell me that it's something you 'just know', and not gossip you heard."

"Gossip is more often hurtful than informative," she said, resting her head on Fred's shoulder. "I don't enjoy it very much."

"Oh, thank Merlin." He replied, letting out a relieved breath.

Fred just went along with it, seldom surprised by her quirkiness. He petted her hair for a moment until Professor McGonagall tapped her glass.

Harrison felt the wards tingle and he let the Divination professor pass through them. He maintained the connection until she passed the Great Hall, most likely heading for her tower.

"Your attention, please!" She called out, giving the students a chance to settle down. "I'm sure you've all been curious about the lockdown. From what we were able to learn, a power surge left several members of staff, myself included, incapacitated for a short while. There is no evidence to suggest that it will happen again. Everyone affected by the surge is well, and classes will resume on Monday morning." With that, she took her seat.

Harrison was confused. The surge knocked them out? How? Why? What did it do to them, and why wasn't everyone affected?

He looked at his mum, who gave an imperceptible head shake. They had to speak later anyway.

When dinner was over, and Harrison could find no reasons to stall, he and the twins stood.

Time to face the inquisition.

Chapter End Notes

Damn, guys. I made myself tear up a little. I'm trying to decide if listening to music while I write is changing my characters moods too, or just mine. What did everyone think of the goblin wedding? Let me know! Much love, and thank you all for sticking with the story for 31 chapters! That's way longer than I had intended, but oh well! Until next week!

Chapter 32

Chapter Notes

It's 1:26 am, so I'm technically a day late on posting, but shh. Don't tell.
Okay, just to let you know... There is a ridiculously long paragraph in this one. It is not an editing error. Harrison is spiraling (so take his thoughts with a grain of salt. I know it's got a 'mistake', but it was intentional)... spoiler alert? Sorry. Enjoy!

Gripping the twins' hands tightly, Harrison took a deep breath as George knocked on the door.

"Enter!" Severus called brusquely.

"I don't want to do this! He'll skin us all alive! We can still run." Harrison urged.

"You've faced a lot worse than that, love. Besides, he's your mum and he loves you." Fred said, amused by his husbands' illogical fear. He could live with that. Husband. Husband. He smiled.

George just snorted, pushing the door open. "Come on, already. I won't let anyone kill you."

Harrison huffed, then sent an image of himself blowing a raspberry.

Fred laughed.

Raising his brow, Severus offered them seats. "What has you so amused, Mr. Weasley?"

Ignoring the question, Fred smirked. "I think you only call me that in private because you can't tell the difference between me and Fred."

"And the fact that you pointedly referred to your brother as Fred leads me to believe that he is George and you are Fred." Severus replied, leaning back in his seat casually. He sipped at his tea, waiting for them to sit.

"So…" Harrison began. "You wanted to talk? Is it about the power surge?"

"I will only ask this once, Harrison." Severus crossed his legs. "Were you somehow behind it?"

"Yes," he replied honestly. "Now, what did the surge do to the professors? And why were only some affected? Why not everyone? Or no one? It doesn't make any sense."

"But it does. The ones affected seemed to have been under various compulsions. When the rest of the staff was tested, our results were clear of magical interference. Hagrid and Minerva were the worst. She had only just woken an hour and a half ago."

Harrison blinked. "The surge cleared their blocks? How? I don't understand."

"From what the Healers were able to decipher, the surge that went throughout the grounds was that of pure, raw magic. Any impurities to that magic were immediately rectified." He explained. "How were you responsible for the surge?"

At that, Harrison turned bright red and covered his face to hide the blush.

"Professor?" George asked. "I know you've heard of soul bonds, but what do you know about them?"

"There's not much to know, honestly." Severus said with a slight shrug. He glossed over what Remus had mentioned to Harrison over Yule break.

"So, you know that as far as bonds are concerned, all parties involved are considered married as no one else will ever be enough?" Fred added.

"Naturally," he said, wondering what they were getting at.

"Do you know how marriages for soulmates are completed?" George asked.

"Okay, stop!" Harrison said, cutting them off. "There's no point in stalling. We've legally married. That's why the goblins were here. Because we had sex. None of us knew that we'd be married over it, but we are."

Severus stared at them in silence. Quick as a flash, he darted to the fireplace. "Do. Not. Move." He told them before he threw a pinch of floo powder and vanished in a burst of emerald flames. That wasn't his mum. That was Professor Snape. And Professor Snape was not happy with him.

In the short time Severus was gone, Harrison paced the relatively small sitting room.

Severus hated him. He knew he was going to be a fuckup of a son, but he hadn't expected it to be after just a few weeks. He was hoping for it to last for a while. Why would someone want to go from having no children to having two teenage sons overnight? Especially when he'd unwittingly helped raise one of them and the other had been an antagonistic pain in the arse? Draco was perfectly fine for a son, but him? No one had ever wanted him before, so why would they start now? And when Severus and Lucius realize how shitty of a son he is, they'll never want anything to do with him again. Then the twins will finally wake up and look for someone who is actually good for them. Harry certainly wasn't. He was needy, impulsive, weak. He wasn't going to save anyone, let alone the entire bloody wizarding world. He was too much of a fuckup. Add to the fact that when Dumbledore finally got wise to his plans, there would be a bright red bulls-eye on his head along with everyone he'd ever cared about, because that man knew every single one of his weaknesses. He'd clearly spent long enough creating and manipulating them. Dumbledore was a hell of a lot stronger than he was, especially since he's been leeching magic from so many people. Harry couldn't combat someone with so much stolen magic in their veins. It was completely hopeless! When Dumbledore did finally kill him, at least his family and friends wouldn't have to put up with his freakishness anymore. He couldn't even be a normal wizard. He had to be a freak in a world where literally anything was possible! Merlin, the Dursley's were right all along. The only thing he could do, without a doubt, was destroy peoples' lives. The Dursley's were happy together. The Weasley's were the perfect family, and now look! One dead. One being kept in the long-term psychiatric unit of St. Mungo's. Another one should be there. One was on his way to a prison sentence, along with the girl who had been all but adopted into the family! He ruined everything. He took away his brother's mother. He destroyed four marriages. By being born. Severus, Lucius and Lily had been happy together, and because he was conceived, that marriage collapsed. Lily and James had to marry under false pretenses, then died because of him. Lucius and Narcissa were together for over fifteen years and he blew that up at the same time he ruined Bellatrix's marriage to Lestrange! There was no doubt in his mind that his own accidental marriage would be wrecked before he died. It was only a matter of time. Not to mention the fact that when his marriage did fall apart, he would have the deaths of everyone within miles on his conscience. Why did it have to fall on his shoulders? Why was the fate of everyone his burden? Oh, right! Because he bloody well deserved it! His one and only purpose in life was to hurt people! No one had ever walked away from him unscathed in some way or another. Hell, he'd even committed his first murder at eleven! He should have been in Azkaban for the past five years, not living it up in a fucking castle!

Harrison sucked in a huge breath and fell into an aggressive coughing fit. Oh, hell. Why was he so dizzy?

There was a hand on his chest, rubbing in small circles.

"Easy, love. Just breathe slowly." That was Fred's soothing voice.

Fred shouldn't be soothing him. Fred should be running from him. So should George. They all should.

"You can't think like that, Harrison," Fred whispered softly. "No one believes that. We love you so much. Open your eyes, love, and look at me. That's all I'm going to ask. Just open your eyes."

Cool fingers brushed his face. He opened his eyes long enough to see tears streaming heavily down Fred's face before squeezing them shut again. He hurt Fred. Again.

"You didn't hurt me, love. You scared me. Why haven't you spoken to anyone about the way you feel? You've been put through so much more than any one person should ever have to deal with, and it isn't fair. Not one single bit. None of that was your fault, Harrison. Those things happened because of that old bastard. All of it. He tore apart your families. He put you with those horrid muggles. He ruined your chance at a happy childhood. He broke my family. It wasn't you." Fred sniffled. "Do you hear me, Harrison Potter Snape? You were not responsible for any of it. None."

He wanted to believe that, but he just couldn't.

"Do you always feel like this?" That was George.

Harrison didn't want to answer that. It didn't matter though, did it? Fred was reading his thoughts like an open book, so George likely was too. "Yes."

"It's-s no bloody wo-wonder you have p-panic att-attacks." George said aloud, his breath hitching as though he'd been crying. "Mer-Merlin, I th-think Dementors could learn f-from you."

They'd heard/felt all of it. Shame burned through him fiercely. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

George's breathing hitched a few more times as he calmed. "Well," he said eventually. "It's official. I've never wanted to commit murder so badly."

Harrison's eyes opened. He could feel George's fury, but it was directed at Dumbledore, not him. The rush of love he got from both sides of the bond took his breath away. There was a tingling itch under his skin.

"Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are?" Fred asked with a teary smile.

Harrison couldn't help it. He blushed.

Finally noting that he was lying on the floor in Severus' sitting room, he sat up. "Hi," he said awkwardly upon seeing the room so full. The itch was turning into a strange vibrating sensation.

Bella wriggled through the crowd and plopped herself on the floor next to him. "Hi, Bunny." She wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Bunny?" Harrison asked, brow raised.

"Have you ever watched a bunny rabbit thump their back legs?"

"Yes…?"

"Now imagine that, times about seventy-five thousand." The toes of her boots made muffled tapping sounds as her feet lazily shifted. "That's what your magic did this time."

"What?" He asked, standing. "I caused an earthquake?! Was anyone hurt?"

"Not quite an earthquake," Remus said sadly. "More of… an earth-tremble."

"This isn't funny!" He cried. "I could have seriously hurt someone! How the hell are my bloody powers still growing? This should have stopped by now. I can't take any more power. There's too much already! I can feel it in every fucking breath I take, and I can't handle this! It reacts before I can even complete my thoughts. It's like a reflex I can't control!" He took a breath and felt confusion through the bond and stared at the twins in horror. "What do you mean, neither of you have had a boost? I feel like I've been struck by lightning and it's only getting worse!" He was shaking with the force of it. "I'm scaring myself. Stun me, please!"

"Harrison!" Lucius yelled over his terror-stricken thoughts. "I know you're running high, but you have to open the bond. Fully. Right now, you're only passing thoughts and emotions. You are blocking the twins from your power. They were born to stabilize you! You have to let them do their job!" He marched forward, with some obvious difficulty, as though he were trudging through mud. Taking Harrison's face in his hands, he forced his son to look at him. "Focus on the bond and RIP IT OPEN!"

"I'll hurt them!" He gasped out.

"No you won't!" Lucius snapped. "If they couldn't handle it, you never would have been born! NOW DO IT!"

Harrison closed his eyes, searching for the tendrils that were giving off immense amounts of fear and concern through what seemed like a thin tube. From there, he forced the tubes to grow. He had to do this slowly, he knew, or the sudden influx would likely kill them all. He heard the twins' breathing quicken. A little wider. A bit more. Further. Wait. Further. They were left gasping. Slowly. More. It had to keep going. They were pushing it wider from their sides. So close. Keep going. Just a little more. It was getting harder to control. Stop trying to control it. Let it out.

THERE!

"Oh, fuck," he said, lightheaded. Gripping Lucius' arms to keep upright, he let out a weak laugh. "I need to sit down. I think I'm going to be ill." His entire body felt like goo.

"Severus, fix the sofa." Lucius said. "They're all about to collapse."

Harrison dizzily saw Fred being supported by Remus and George was being likewise held by Sirius. He let his head fall forward, but stayed standing. Barely. "'M tired."

"Yes, I'm sure you are." Lucius snorted. "Sev? Did you set up-"

"Go ahead and lay them down." Severus said, sounding odd. "I'll get some bedding from an elf."

With one arm wrapped around Harrison's torso, and the other supporting his arm, Lucius guided his son to the sofa-turned-bed.

Gratefully, Harrison crawled into the center as the twins sandwiched him. They needed pillows and big, fluffy blankets. He sighed contentedly when they were suddenly surrounded by blissfully comfortable bedding.

"Nevermind, Kreacher." Sirius said.

"Do you think I'll ever be able to be around my son without him losing consciousness again?"

Lucius' defeated question was the last thing Harrison heard as he fell into a deep sleep.

--

Harrison woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. He inhaled deeply, feeling George's desire to fall back to sleep and Fred's amusement.

"Murnin'," he said groggily.

George sniffed. "Mm bac'n."

Fred laughed and kissed Harrison's temple. "Good morning, love."

Using his palms, Harrison scrubbed the grit out of his eyes. He whined.

"What's wrong, son?" Lucius asked.

"Don' wanna get up, but I have to pee." He replied with a huff.

Someone choked on something and let out a bark-like laugh. Sirius.

Realizing there were people in the room, Harrison jolted awake. And embarrassed. His cheeks burned as he extracted himself from the tangle of lightly tanned limbs.

Remus, Sirius and Narcissa were on one side of the table and Bella and Lucius were on the other side. There were five empty seats. That table had only sat two, maybe three, the night before.

"Second door on the left!" Severus called out from the kitchenette.

Harrison smacked himself on the forehead and went about his business.

"How did I become surrounded by morning people?" He grumbled, taking one of the empty seats. Looking around the table, he made grabby hands upon seeing his carafe at the other end.

"Bad luck?" Sirius suggested, passing the carafe down the line.

Remus scoffed. "Eleven is hardly morning. It's brunch-time."

"Very funny," Harrison deadpanned. "I don't sleep late. Ever."

"Unless you're comatose. Again." Severus said, bringing a second pot of tea to the table.

Fred sat happily munching on toast as Harrison eyed him suspiciously.

"I know you function in the mornings, but this is a bit much." He said. "You look like you're ready to go for a run or bounce out of your seat."

Grinning, Fred sipped his tea. "Magical boosts can do that. I feel incredible."

"I'm glad you do. I feel like I've been bulldozed." He yawned widely, letting his chin rest on Lucius' shoulder. He couldn't help but remember what the man had said last night. Yesterday. Whatever.

Looking much more awake than he expected, George dropped into the seat next to Narcissa. "Morning!"

"It certainly is, Mr. Weasley," she said with a smirk. "I take it your new power levels are agreeing with you?"

George nodded happily. "By the way, I'm George."

Harrison and Fred looked at him in shock.

"Since when do you introduce yourself as yourself?" Harrison asked. "You usually try to trick people or trip them up by using twin-speak."

Shrugging, George tucked into his breakfast. "I like bacon."

Gaze bouncing between the twins, Harrison paused. "Did… did I mix you two up?"

Looking just as bewildered, Fred shook his head.

"I can't handle you both being morning people. That just isn't fair."

"Don't worry," Lucius said, stroking his son's hair. "I'm sure he'll be back to… well, not normal, but normal for him. He still needs to adjust to the power influx. Severus went through something similar when we bonded, though it obviously wasn't as severe."

"I'd nearly forgotten about that," Severus said. "I think I ran around for an hour just to burn off my excess energy."

Amused relief from George made Harrison chuckle sleepily. "Who wants to duel poor Georgie?"

Remus, Bella and Cissa all raised their hands.

"What do you say, Freddie? Two on three?" George asked, bouncing in his seat.

"Room of requirement?"

"Race you!"

"You're on!"

They were out of the room before Remus even got out of his seat.

"Hang on," Harrison said, smirking. He pressed his hand to the wall behind his seat. "I'm going to mess with them. Grab hands you three, and hold your breath."

When they clasped hands, Harrison waved his hands and they vanished.

"Are you comfortable, Harrison?" Severus asked, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin.

Fully aware he was sagged over Lucius' side, he nodded, yawning once more.

"Good." He said, crossing his arms. "Then you should be able to explain to me why you burst in here and informed me of your accidental marriage."

"What?!" Sirius cried, startling his godson.

Groaning, Harrison summoned two potions and dumped them both into his coffee mug. Headache reliever and a pepper-up. He was going to need them. "I knew that we were going to marry someday. What I didn't know was that there didn't have to be an actual wedding to make it official. None of us knew. Not until the goblins showed up and congratulated us for bonding." Realizing how that sounded, his cheeks burned. It was exactly how it sounded, but saying that to his parents… it was awkward. "The twins were officially bound to the clan, like I was this past summer. They said blessings and presented us with gifts. Afterwards, they duelled for us."

Lucius' fork clattered to the floor. "Your union was blessed by the Goblin King?"

He nodded. "Yes. He also had a crest created for us, using the Gaelic names he gave us. It's a heart, a shield and a sword."

"That is an incredible honor, Harrison," Lucius breathed. To have a Goblin King (or Queen) was akin to having muggle royalty in the bed of a pauper. It just wasn't done. They were incredibly selective who they chose to bless. For that to happen outside of bloodborn goblin lines was just… it was… well, it had never happened!

"Is His Majesty still in place?" Severus asked curiously.

Harrison was surprised at that. "You know Goblin customs, mum?"

"Very few." He admitted. "I do know that there was a holiday recently, but not what it was."

Yawning again, Harrison smiled. "Ba'afhmaka. I snuck out of the castle to hand out gifts." When he was met with raised brows, he explained. "It's kind of like a combination of New Year's and Yule. I used the basilisk for most of the gifts. Battle armor for His Majesty, meat for most of them, things like that."

"What on Earth could they use the meat for?" Sirius asked, looking a bit green. "It's what, three years old? It had to be rotted."

"They ate it," Harrison said, letting his eyes fall shut. "It's like wine. Better with age."

Lucius picked up his half-asleep son and tucked him back into the sofa bed. "I want to let you know something, Harrison. You might be an adult by law, and you might be married now, but you are still my son. And if I ever catch you swearing like you did last night, I will not hesitate to take you over my knee." He kissed the top of his son's head. "Good night."

"Night, dad." He mumbled sleepily. "Love you."

Afterword

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!