Quest to the Past

by Marisandini

Circe has broken the Ancient Law. To spite her mother, she went back in time to help the Dark Lord caused more chaos to her precious Wizarding World. Who else would the Olympians asked for help by none other than Percy Jackson and sent to the past in the Marauders Era. I don't own any of the characters except OCs.

86. Act III: Epilogue

Epilogue

Words: 25,121

Recap: -

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Doing your homework in the dark is a whole new struggle he'd been tackling all summer. That's what happens when your guardian has a 'No Magic' policy in their house, including the slightest mention of them. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon made sure that Harry was busy doing the chores to do anything they deem freaky.

It wasn't all bad. With no Dobby this time, Harry can finally indulge in having friends to exchange letters with. Hermione and Ron are the best, and he couldn't imagine surviving the summer without them. Though there was one other addition for his mailbox.

At midnight on Harry's birthday, Sophia came knocking on his window. Harry quickly got up before she could wake anyone in the house and get him in trouble. He opened the lock, and she swooped in, letter in hand (or leg in this case) stopping right beside Hedwig's cage. Harry let two of his birds get acquainted, hooting and purring at one another, while he went and read his letter.

After the first incident in his first year when Sophia came uncharacteristically out of her usual dates to give Harry a new set of glasses, inspiring the boy of the idea of sending his mysterious sender a thank you mail for all the gifts he'd given him throughout the year.

Though if Harry showed them to anyone, they wouldn't be wrong to say it was fewer gifts and more trinkets and knick-knacks; a vinyl record that doesn't do much in Harry's time, a silver pocket watch, and one of those friendship bracelets. The letters accompanying them would always say how it's related to either his mom or dad. The sender always sends them either on his birthday or Christmas. Harry even has a small collection of books thanks to the person, great titles such as; Sherlock Holmes, Lord of the Rings, Charlotte's Web, The Chronicles of Narnia, Princess Bride, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Harry's personal favourite). All those things he would never keep under his aunt and uncle's watchful eyes and hide them in his trunk.

He likes the book very much because if you look closely, you might find snippets of notes like 'Property of Lily "Queen" Evans' or the curious 'Have Sevvy wear it for Halloween' and the confusing 'Throw it to Potter's head and hope he learns better decency than a pig.'

He didn't know who this 'Sevvy' was or why his mother wanted to klonk his dad in the head, but anything that would illuminate what she was like is always a welcoming gift for him.

What shocked Harry though was the fact that a reply came after his first letter. The letter didn't bear gifts, but the letters became just as precious. He (Harry thinks it's a he) helps clarify a lot of things about the wizarding world that was supposed to be common sense, giving helping pointers in doing his homework, and just… be there whenever he feels horrible enduring his family. Harry had an easier time sharing with the Sender rather than his friends, probably because he didn't want them to look at him differently nor made them worry more than necessary.

But today's letter was different. Not long, though frankly he rarely writes long letters (and when he did, it was more like reading a textbook). All it said was this:

Dear Mr. Potter

Don't go out unless necessary.

And a Happy Birthday to you.

Sincerely

Harry loves his mysterious sender, but he wishes he'd be more forthcoming in the letter because what in Merlin's beard is that supposed to mean? Is there an infectious disease spreading that he's not aware of? Why isn't he supposed to go out?

Still, Harry pulled out his quill and promptly wrote a reply. But then he watched as Hedwig snuggled to the older but smaller owl and decided he'd send it tomorrow, once Sophia got her rest.

Turns out, Harry didn't have time to do even that, not when Aunt Marge came to visit.

Harry knew he screwed up big time after he managed to blow his Aunt up and promptly packed his belongings to find himself some way to survive as a wizard, believing he'd be expelled sooner or later for underage magic on a muggle.

After a fright from a dog, hitching the Knight Bus, meeting Cornelius Fudge, and having a room at the Leaky Cauldron, that's when he finally had time to reply to his letter. Recapping what happened the entire day and apologizing for staying out after he specifically said not to. It hit him like a brick that things are more dangerous when it comes to this Sirius Black person, a fanatic Death Eater from what he heard who's possibly aiming for his neck.

After sending his letter, Sophia came back uncharacteristically fast, barely a day after Harry sent it, only to open up with one word as a reply.

Idiot.

"Okay, that's rude," Harry thought aloud, but he wasn't going to deny the letter. But his Sender must be angry if he didn't even bother with Dear Mr. Potter. Harry winced at the thought.

The school year hadn't even started and already Harry could tell this was going to be another fun year.

. . .

Dementors.

Freaking Dementors.

What the bloody hell?!

Those were Harry's general train of thought as his group tracked the muddy track toward the stagecoach that would take second-years and above to the castle. It'd be Harry's first time since last year he went to Hogwarts via temperamental flying car. His mind was occupied by the flash of memories of green light and the horrifying shriek of his name that sent shudders to his spine. He was only glad Professor Lupin was there when he had.

It didn't help that by the time he walked toward one empty carriage, a black leathery winged horse harnessed between the shafts of hundreds of carriages. Harry felt his heart stop at the ominous-looking being that seemed ready to take the whole crew to the underworld.

"What are those things?" He asked, voice slightly strained.

Ron looked between the spot of the horses and his friend, "What things, Harry?"

"That... those horse-like creatures, what are they?" He pointed at them and wondered why none of them had so much as flinched riding on their stagecoach despite the gruesome image they make, especially after the whole dark, cold, and gloomy wraith that threatened to suck the life out of you.

Hermione, Ginny, and Neville had already gone up to the carriage, but Harry was still holding back Ron with his questions, insisting a horse was pulling it. Harry went so far as to drag him in front of the carriage and went face-to-face with the white-eyed being, only to see no reaction from his best friend.

"Harry," Hermione sounded worried, "There's nothing there. It's a moving carriage, it's most likely charmed that way."

Harry looked at her like he couldn't believe what he was hearing when it occurred to him that none of them could see it. Then briefly thinking if his run-in with the Dementors made the wires in his brain cross wrongly and manage to turn him insane.

"It's all right," said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as his friends vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them, too."

Harry turned and was greeted by the sight of an odd dirty blonde-haired girl. She had wide round eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. What made her unlike anyone Harry knew was that she gave an aura of distinct dottiness. And he couldn't blame anyone for thinking so when she had no problem wearing her white-blue tie on her head like she had just gotten back from a uni rager. A pair of acorn earrings and a pocket watch hung around her neck.

"Can you?" said Harry desperately, hoping the strange girl could explain this… strangeness and prove he wasn't going loony. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her ethereal silvery eyes.

"Oh, yes," she said, "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am." She left with that serene smile of hers.

Shaking his head, he got into the stagecoach and sat across Ginny who asked, "What did Loony Lovegood say?"

"Loony Lovegood?"

"Her actual name is Luna Lovegood, she's nice enough, but you can probably guess how she got her nickname."

Harry nodded numbly, thinking that being thought as sane as she turned out didn't make the situation better. At all.

. . .

So his first lesson on Divination concluded with him dying in the near future. No biggy. It's not like there aren't any other Boy-Who-Lived that a mass of crazed fascist people would love to see him dead. Honestly, Harry just wanted to learn magic peacefully like any other normal wizard, is that so hard to ask? The only silver lining was Professor McGonagall's account that he wasn't the first student being greeted with death omens if it can even be called that.

The fact that he had seen a great big dog does change things a bit.

He was in the middle of contemplating making a will because that's what people do when they're going to die, right? Making wills. Though he had no idea how he would do that. Maybe Hermione can help him.

Then Harry spotted him from the corner of his eyes. He left his bickering friends and cold stew in favour of following the familiar figure.

Percy Jackson was waiting in the courtyard, looking as calm as you'd expect from a student in school when he was evidently not. He sat in one of the stone benches, leaving enough room for him to sit next to him.

"So," he started, "What's new in your life?"

Harry shrugged, "Same old, same old. Another school year, almost dying, Draco being a right arse, another person possibly wanting to kill me, the usual."

"The usual then," Percy chortled, "What about your DADA Teacher? Who's the new guy?"

"His name is Professor Remus Lupin, and he–"

"Wait, Remus? Remus Lupin?! He's a teacher? That… oddly suits him. Good for Remus. Gods know he must have a hard time finding a decent job."

"You know Professor Lupin?"

"Oh, we go way back, he and I. So does Severus. Man, he must be hating the fact he's here."

Harry remembered the loathing gaze Snape shot him during the Opening Feast. He also noticed how Professor Lupin had met his eyes during the feast with an amused glint in his eyes. Like they were trading inside jokes that Snape wished he hadn't shared.

"What's the deal between Professor Snape and Lupin?"

"Personal business, Harry. I doubt they would share it with you… or anyone for that matter."

"But Professor Lupin isn't, you know, going to get me attacked or killed like the last two, right?"

Percy made a long deliberate pause that didn't put confidence in his next sentence, "I believe Remus would be the best DADA teacher you'll ever have."

Harry noticed he avoided the question and wasn't sure he wanted to know how many more people wanted him dead. He changed subjects, "What about you? What's new in your life?"

"You know I can't tell you that," he said, not unkindly. Harry deflated despite not feeling surprised. "I noticed Hogwarts has a new decor, a bit dark and gloomy for my taste." He nodded toward the passing Dementors.

Harry shuddered even by the sight of it. "There's an escaped convict by the name Sirius Black, a lot of people think he's coming after me."

Harry glanced and wasn't expecting Percy to look back at him with wide-eyed shock. He kind of figured the boy in front of him was partly all-knowing, "Sirius… Black… you say?"

"Seriously? Does everyone know him except me? What's his deal, anyway? Other than being a Death Eater. Why all the secrets?"

"Yeah...err… sorry, Harry but I have to go." And he went off running. Again. Harry wasn't even surprised by the fact and huffed.

"Nice to see you too!"

. . .

The thing about Draco Malfoy is that once you meet him, you think it's impossible to hate him more than you already have.

But if there's one thing Draco Malfoy loves more than anything, other than pleasing his father, is proving Harry wrong as the pretentious boy became more obnoxious, if that was even possible, by letting Ron and Harry be his "slaves" for the rest of the Double Potion.

What's worse, even Malfoy knows more about this Sirius Black that people are desperate to capture. And again, Harry was left as the clueless Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry had recently found that thinking of hateful people while chopping helps improve the skill.

Snape's chiding remarks didn't help either. The first day in, and already he's reminding everyone why he was the worst Professor in Hogwarts. Harry had been having mixed feelings for him. On one hand, the Professor saved his life, on the other hand, he's the worst.

Snape was pinching the bridge of his nose at the orange monstrosity that was Neville's Shrinking Solution.

"I see neither my lessons and the extra classes I put you in have been enough to penetrate that thick skull of yours, hmm? This is orange, Longbottom. Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "Please, I could help Neville put it right—"

Snape sneered at them both, "See that you do, Miss Granger. If only to prevent another cauldron melting from his disastrous hands." He then peered down at Neville with his most hateful eyes, "But do be mindful, I will have you make this potion again without Miss Granger's help. Failure is not tolerable in my class."

Poor Neville nodded vigorously before Snape finally turned his back with a swish of his robes. The boy has been working hard to make sure he finally could get out of the remedial classes he had to attend because of his poor grades in Potion, which means more time with Snape or whichever 6th or 7th-year students that volunteered tutoring for extra credits.

He knows because Hermione had asked to join for extra lessons once. Snape had shot it down before she could even ask, saying it was for "Hopeless people for the arts, not for know-it-alls."

Once class ended, Harry was sure he and the rest of the house were eager to spend their time without the Potion Professor. He saddled his bag, ready to join his friends for their next class.

"Potter, stay!'

Harry froze, considering bolting out of the room. Not at all looking forward to whatever trouble Snape intends to accuse him of this time.

His friends gave him a worried look, silently offering to stay, but Harry shook his hand and mouthed, "Don't wait for me."

Harry walked toward Snape's like a man going for the gallows. Snape didn't say anything at first. Only assessing him from top to bottom before sneering, "I see the shades haven't turned you into a blubbering mess and impeded you from being your troublesome self. Pity, the school year would have been quieter with one less troublemaker."

Harry tried hiding his glare with a roll of his eyes, "It's nice to see you too, Professor."

"Hmm, still keeping your wit's end. Can't say that's good for keeping you out of trouble."

"You might want to consider that my wits help me get out of trouble."

Snape grew a smile, but Harry can't say it's at all kind. "Your cheek is still intact, I see. Good. Detention in my office, Potter, this Friday."

"What?! What for?"

"For talking back to a Professor. Honestly, Potter, you should know by now to let your temper get the better of you." Snape had his signature cruel grin whenever he found new ways of making Harry miserable.

"You know, you don't have to be so dramatic when checking I'm alright, Professor." He tried to make himself sound sarcastic, but Snape's expression had much more venom (or disgust, Harry can't tell which is which), Harry wondered why that would tick him.

"Detention. Friday. Now get out of my sight."

Harry didn't need to be told twice.

. . .

Percy was right. Professor Lupin is the best DADA teacher he ever had.

His year learned first how to handle all the weird, dark creatures. Starting with Boggarts and ending with Kappas.

For some reason or another, you would often find Snape and Lupin together before class. The first time, Lupin had requested to set the staffroom for the Boggart Lesson. Lupin had greeted him with a smile and thanked him for being his assistant, to which the man always sneered in response. It always baffled Harry and his friends how Snape would always assist in every favour Lupin asks, and Lupin would always take his subtle-to-outright insults in stride. Even giving a slightly challenging smirk as if to say 'Is that all you got?'

Ron reckons Professor Lupin could have been on fire and Snape would have watched while sipping the last drop of water he had on hand. Harry rebutted that Snape would have to douse him with a Water Charm… eventually.

Hermione swore that she witnessed them talking ("Discussing lesson plans," she had said) in an amicable manner and that Lupin had even laughed at a joke Snape said. At which point, Ron drew the line because:

A) Hermione couldn't have arrived early for the lesson since she's been with them the whole time

B) The day Snape would voluntarily make someone laugh would be the day hell has frozen over.

Snape didn't find the Boggart-Snape, in Neville's grandmother's clothes funny though. Possibly feeling vindictive after the incident spread like wildfire throughout the school. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he blatantly glared at him during mealtime. Even when Professor Lupin missed a meal, the greasy man still bore holes toward the absentee's chair.

But then one day, after Snape taught the class how to make a Wideye Potion (including an extensive warning in the danger of using Wolfsbane as an ingredient), he instructed the Gryffindors to give a bottle of it to Professor Lupin so he could "pass the time watching the stars once the moon is out of the way," as Snape eloquently said.

Harry thought that was weirdly nice of him and wondered if Professor Lupin likes star gazing. But the Defence Professor instead seemed deeply affronted at the rows of bottles on his desk.

'What's up between those two?'

Harry's life began to change during a quiet weekend, having finished his work early, and reading another chapter of Roald Dahl's book. He was about to reach the end when he noticed the hardback cover was loosening, Harry briefly recalled the Repair Spell when a piece of paper slipped out from the gap.

Curious, Harry picked it up, examining any writings on either side and unfolding it. The first word he read and already it felt someone had gutted him and took all the air in his lungs with it.

Lily Evans's Super Secret Surprise Recipe Ingredients for her Super Original Awesome Potion (sidenote: might need a better name)

Harry tried reading it again. Again. And again. Until he was sure he wasn't seeing things or dreaming. Carefully folding it back, his calm and pensive as any other day before walking straight at his two friends.

"Guys, you want to see this."

. . .

Harry rubbed his eyes after the nth books from the pile, then asking his exhausted friends, "Any luck?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I can't find any recipes with those exact ingredients made in the last 15 years. All I found with your mother's name in was a news article to make a more effective Cleaning Potion that's popular with the housewives and a couple of journals about—"

Ron's groaning interrupted her midway, "In short we found nothing. Merlin, only you, Harry, could make me volunteer to read this many potion books."

"Sorry."

Hermione sniffed, "Oh, stop being a baby, Ronald. At least you're studying. Besides, we did find other things. Harry, did you know your mother and 12 other people petition for Wolfsbane Potion to be government-issued for anyone diagnosed with lycanthrope."

That managed to make Ron almost leapt out of his seat, "Harry's mother did what?!" He practically snatched the article from her hands and skimmed through it.

"What? What did she do?" As usual, Harry was the clueless one, so he had no idea what it meant.

Ron wanted to answer, but then the testy librarian came and made the usual warning of either being quiet or kicked out.

"It means, mate, your mom works with werewolves."

Again, Harry wanted to cry out 'What?' if not for the risk of Madam Pince.

"No need to make this more of a big deal than it is, Ron."

"It is a big deal. It's werewolves. They're dangerous."

"Don't be ridiculous. I've read about them, and they're just misunderstood people that had an unfortunate outcome."

"Yeah, people who eat other people."

"It's not like they can help what they are since no one is around to help them, not even the government, which was what Harry's mother intended to rectify."

Ron and Hermione became consumed in their debate, Harry was left being stuck watching them sparring words until Madam Pince had enough and threw them out of the library.

And the day barely started.

. . .

Knowing the Library didn't help, there was only one more thing that Harry could do. Or… one more person more like. It was the type of idea that would cross someone's mind before being brushed off because of how ludicrous it sounded, but this idea persisted in Harry's mind throughout the day. He decided to share it with his friends.

Ron reckons he's essentially applying for torture.

Hermione agreed that he had more luck getting taught by Malfoy than what he had in mind.

Still, their insistence on what a bad idea he was suggesting kind of wants to make Harry prove them wrong. After all, it is a Professor's job to teach them, right? That's why when Potion ended, his two best-friends pleaded with their eyes not to throw himself to the big bad wolf. He gestured for them not to worry.

His apprehension rose as he was left alone with the man who hated him. Harry's bravado seemed to evaporate the moment emerald eyes locked with piercing coals. The words he prepared got stuck in his throat.

His friends were right, this was a terrible idea.

"Is there something I might be of service to you, Potter?" Snape asked, continuing grading today's quiz, "Or will you be dawdling about like a mute donkey?"

"Err… actually… there's something... I'd like to ask a favour of you, Professor."

Snape paused his quill, and slowly, put it down before leaning close from his table as if to loom the already smaller boy. "Interesting, now what does Harry Potter want that he would ask me for help?"

Harry took a deep breath so as to not rise from the bait, "I have questions about a certain potion recipe that I need your help with."

"How quaint." After hearing his request, Snape leaned back, visibly losing interest. "Unfortunately for you, Mister Potter, teachers aren't allowed to give private lessons for obvious reasons. Go find someone else to harass or do as any other students do; study."

"I would, but this isn't exactly part of the curriculum material."

Snape said nothing, only giving the slightest raise of his eyebrow.

"It's... it's a handwritten recipe that my... that my mum made. It's still incomplete, but I thought if I learned more about what potion she's trying to make and… and… learn more about potions, I could… you know… finish it for her. It'd give me a bit of… a bit of closure… Because I don't have many people to... you know... tell me much about my mother, so it'd be nice to help complete and make this potion for her, and… I... I need your help with that."

It was a sincere confession of Orphan Harry. His mouth trembled from overwhelming emotions. His mother's eyes were glassy as he looked pleadingly up to his professor. Anyone who would look at his tear-strain eyes, heartfelt croaked voice, and still denied his wish would only be an absolute monster.

"No."

Severus Snape clearly wasn't above that.

"If you've said everything you needed, I suggest you excuse yourself, Potter," He enunciated coldly and with an unsurprising lack of empathy, giving back his paper with a harsh shove like he couldn't stand touching the paper for another second.

Harry anticipated this and mentally sighed, 'Time for Plan B.'

"How about a trade then?"

"A trade, Mister Potter?" Snape sounded amused, "My, how curious, what could you possibly have to offer me that would make me any more amenable to your request?"

"If you help me complete my mum's potion, then I won't tell everyone at school that you saved my life. Several times in fact."

It was a gamble. A really huge gamble. A gamble Harry made based on a hunch, no less. But the gamble paid when it got the furious reaction that Harry predicted. But as quick as it appeared, Snape's unpleasant mask was back on.

"You do realize, Mister Potter, that what you are proposing is blackmail, not trade?"

"Really? I couldn't tell the difference." Harry played off innocently.

They stood, locking eyes with one another, and Harry thought there might be an impressed glint.

Finally, Snape broke the silence first, "If anyone enquires your whereabouts, you will tell them you have detention with me and nothing else. The..." at this, Snape shuddered, "...arrangement is scheduled every Tuesday and Thursday at 9 P.M. on the dot. One tardy, one reason that you're not giving this lesson its proper due, and I'll call it off immediately, do you understand?"

Harry gulped from the intense air Snape executed but nodded nonetheless, "Crystal, Sir."

"Good, now leave before I give you actual detention."

Harry didn't need to be told twice, but he couldn't help looking back to his least favourite teacher resting his face in his palm.

Harry wasn't sorry for it.

. . .

His first private tutelage with Snape pent out both exactly and not exactly as Harry imagined it'd be. Did he expect it to be mind-numbingly boring? Yes. Did he expect to catalog every ingredient Snape had personally stored as well? Not quite.

"Sir, remind me again how is this different from my usual detention?"

"There's none. Only with a different purpose in mind— No! You don't put foxglove again, imbecile. Poison is not the solution for everything," he growled while making scratching noise between grading papers.

"And exactly how does this help me get better at Potion?"

"My teaching method is not for your insignificant pea brain to question Potter, but to follow," he gruffly answered, "And what do kids eat to shrivel their brains these days? Did I not say, multiple times, to ground some bezoar whenever you put poison in!" He grumbled at the end while making another harsh marking on the parchment, Harry wondered why the parchment wasn't ripping out already.

"You sound very stressed, Professor."

"The more incompetent the children are, the likelier I am to shove an antidote down their throat to keep their miserable life alive."

Harry shook his head and continued shelving the jar of Boomslang Skin after taking account of its number, he forgot which shelves kept the reptilian-like source of ingredient (between the Snakes and Salamander to be exact) when his eyes spotted something round and grey rolling among the jars. Harry promptly smiled when he realized the Rock was helping him show which rack he needed to put it on.

"Thanks, little fella." He petted it.

The first time Harry met it during his first detention with Professor Snape, he was honestly shocked to find googly eyes stuck on a rock like a sad, makeshift pet made by a preschooler. He was about to give it to the Lost and Found when it jumped out of his eyes and rolled away into hiding. It wasn't the last time he saw it, these three years he had gotten acquainted and was one of his bright spots as the Rock seemed to always come out to watch him scrubbing cauldrons. Harry always wondered why a cute little thing like him would be hanging around Snape's office.

The man himself noticed the Rock's actions and verbally requested for Harry to take it out of his hands. Harry asked why he didn't do so himself. Snape admitted that he tried but every time he threw it away, it crawled back much to his annoyance. Harry didn't know the reason why the Rock stayed, but he wasn't going to force him out of his will. He already experienced being kicked out by a magic car, he wasn't going to piss another charmed item.

Anyway, back to the lesson. He wasn't sure how archiving the ingredients would help him be a better potioneer, but let the argument end with a grumble.

Snape must have read his mind because he made a gruff sort of sigh before he rested his quill and looked straight back at him. "What are the main ingredients for a healing potion?"

Harry, not expecting to be quizzed, was blindsided by the question, "What?"

Snape glared, and Harry immediately backtracked to answer 'less he repeated his embarrassing first day of potion. "I mean, that's Wormwood... and... err… Salamander blood?"

"Hmm, I see you've improved from being abysmal in Potions to being pathetic as the rest of them."

'Heavens help me, I want to hit this man so badly.' And heaven seemed to hear him because, by some miracle, Harry managed to refrain himself.

"Then what potion has the combination of Salamander blood and powdered Griffin claw?"

"Err, that's the Strengthening potion… err...Sir."

"Then how about Salamander blood and Wartcap powder?"

"That's the Fire Protection Potion, isn't it?" Harry's eyes widened as a pattern seemed to reveal itself.

"What did you notice, Mister Potter?"

"That the Salamander's blood can help in… healing… wait, no… protection… that's not quite right either… something to do with vitality, Sir?"

"Unexpectedly, you've managed to salvage your butchered answer at the last second."

And expectedly, you don't know how to compliment a student even if it bit you. Yet again, Harry kept the comment to himself.

"But yes, Salamander is commonly known for its fire element that symbolizes life, energy, and vitality. Except for the Fire Protection Potion, you can replace the ingredient with similar nature such as Snake Fang or Dragon Liver for the former two potions. For the same reason you can replace Wormwood with Dittany and it won't change the function of the potion other than its effectiveness. Combining them may even increase its potency… or creating poison if you're an incompetent stooge."

Harry didn't register the last remark as he tried to wrack his brain over the information. In a sense, it was almost no different from cooking. You can switch up ingredients, put more or less, or even skip a few steps, but as long as the fundamental instruction was followed, the only thing different is how good the taste is without changing the meal itself. The revelation gave him more confidence, Harry may not like cooking (reminiscing the days he had to feed the Dursley and complaining when they were too lazy to cook themselves) but he was fairly good at it.

Snape continued his lecture, "Becoming a decent enough potioneer, you would at least need to know the ingredients you'll likely to handle like the back of your hand unless you're going to follow Longbottom's example. Understanding why and how certain ingredients work is the key to making any kind of potion, regardless of knowing a recipe. Now that you understand, I would hope you'd cease your insistent queries of every decision I make, Potter."

"So… wait… you're saying I can make any potion if I know the ingredients properly, even without the recipe?"

Snape scoffed, "It'll take another half a decade for you to understand the ritual significance of a recipe to work without them, but yes. If you can properly learn the ingredients then you may have a chance of completing your mother's work."

Harry nodded, satisfied with the answer given, and continued with his task. Snape raised an eyebrow, maybe expecting for him to complain further but wasn't going to jinx himself as he continued with his insufferable papers.

Then, a thought occurred to Harry, "But wait, if I need to learn the ingredients properly, shouldn't I be… I don't know… reading an encyclopedia about them or writing an essay?"

"If I'm going to waste my time indulging you, might as well make yourself useful. Besides, would you have preferred scribbling until your fingers went numb rather than my work?" Snape didn't wait for his answer before going back to his papers.

While Harry admitted he has a point, he was fairly sure Snape is using this as an excuse to torture him.

"One more mention of foxglove and I will burn this parchment altogether."

Right, at least Harry's not the only one suffering.

. . .

The next time he met Snape outside of class, Harry was talking with Professor Lupin when he couldn't go out to Hogsmeade. Snape came with a cauldron filled with suspicious potions. While Harry was used to his unkind eyes, his hateful gaze made him think he wouldn't have minded if Professor Lupin dropped dead.

Which, admittedly, was worrying.

Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.

"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said, "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

"Why—?" Harry began. Lupin met his gaze and answered the unfinished question.

"I've been feeling a bit off-colour," he said, "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands. But he figured if Professor Snape wanted to hurt him, he wouldn't do it with a witness present.

Harry decided to throw caution out of the wind and asked, "Do you and Professor Snape know each other?"

"Oh, err, yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because Professor Snape clearly doesn't like you."

Harry didn't expect the Professor to bark out a laugh, "Yes, I suppose. Surprised you noticed that, Harry."

"I thought at first he hated the defence position taken from him again, but he barely flinched with last year's Professor who was worse than you. So… he must hate you for something personal."

Professor Lupin, tone impressed, "True, me and Severus have known each other for a long time. Since our school days in fact."

"You were in the same year?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Indeed. We… didn't get along, least to say. I've wronged him… a lot of times… and Severus hasn't forgiven me since."

Harry tried to imagine but found it hard to see the nice, polite Professor Lupin do anything bad enough to have a deep grudge, carried for more than a decade. Snape must be blowing it out of proportion. Harry was sure of it.

"I heard from a friend you were discussing lesson plans together before class… is that true?"

"Ah, indeed, your friend is not wrong. I might have made a solid lesson plan beforehand. But Professor Snape has taught in this school for much longer than me, so I figured I would ask his professional opinion. Told me which students need a bit more help than others. He's been quite helpful."

Harry never imagined the word "Snape" and "helpful" could ever be used in the same sentence, let alone within that context.

"But why would you go out of the way to talk to him when he's being… err…"

Lupin laughed, "Yes, I'm well aware that Snape can be a bit 'err'." He went and took the last sip of his potion. He sighed, looking relieved, but not of quenching his thirst, Harry bet. Professor Lupin gave himself a moment, tapping the edge of his cauldron while ruminating his thoughts. "The war took a toll on all of us, Harry. It didn't matter whether you were an ally or the enemy. A saint or a sinner. We all lost something… or someone… and you realized despite our differences, we found ourselves clinging to simpler times… a time before our choices changed us… for better or worse."

Harry had only a vague clue of what Professor Lupin said, he wasn't sure whether it's how he usually talks or if he intended to be cryptic. Making Harry all the more curious of this "past" both Snape and Lupin seem to share. A past that inevitably binds them together whether they want to or not.

. . .

"I can't believe I'm saying this but you're a lot nicer teaching in Potion than as a Defence Professor," Harry said between cataloguing the newly delivered ingredients.

"No one asked your opinion, Potter. Do move your arms more and your mouth less." Snape chastised but he didn't make a scathing remark or put a dent in Gryffindors points, so it was his version of talking 'nice'.

This was his fourth session with Snape, and Harry quickly learned that if you had a small talk during his grading, he was less likely to act like a slimy git. Apparently, marking abysmal potion essays was horrible enough that talking to him was considered a reprieve. Good to know that in Snape's mind; Famous Harry Potter better than Paperwork.

"I'm just saying, it's one thing to insult us for not studying or forgetting instructions, it's another for something we're not supposed to learn yet."

"Shocking how little I care what you think of me."

Well, yeah, but despite how you teach, we usually learn something. Harry wanted to say, but he put that in the list of things-never-said-to-Professor-Snape.

"Besides, knowing Lupin, he wouldn't accept the essay."

Harry scrunched his nose, "So was that stunt supposed to annoy him? Because that sounds…" Petty. But Harry knows better than to finish that sentence.

"If I have to tolerate his presence in Hogwarts, then he'll have to tolerate mine."

Harry didn't want a death wish, so he knew better than to point out his friends being collateral damage in his personal feud. "You haven't tried giving him mild poisoning, right?" He asked his suspicion.

"If I had my way, Potter. It would be far from 'mild'" the man admitted without remorse.

Harry gulped at the admission, "Is… getting along not an option?"

"As likely as you would have with Mister Malfoy."

Urgh, Harry can't exactly refute that. Still— "Why do you hate Professor Lupin so much? I thought you, of all people, would want to work with a decent defence teacher."

For the first time since he started brewing, Snape met his eyes. He didn't say anything for a while before stating, "Remus Lupin tried to kill me once."

Harry tried to comprehend Snape's words before blowing out a mirthless laugh, "You're joking, right Professor?"

Snape silently went back to his work.

"Professor?!"

. . .

Harry was miserable.

He lost the match, was attacked by dementors, and his Nimbus (the first broom he ever had) was damaged beyond repair. If Harry had been any normal wizard without Voldemort being a thorn on his side, this would have been the worst day of his life.

The fact he had seen the Grimm didn't help matters.

It was between the two weeks of being kept in the Hospital Wing that he felt the familiar presence materialize during the night. But unlike the last two years, Harry didn't pretend to sleep in his presence.

"Checking up on me, Sir?"

Snape scoffed, glaring at Harry with the same intensity as he would when finding a gum under his shoe. "Hardly. Don't flatter yourself, Potter. I'm only here to assist Madam Pomfrey in restocking her supplies."

Nevertheless, Snape stayed on the seat beside Harry's bed.

He tried his best to hide the widening grin in his sleep.

Harry felt a little less miserable.

. . .

Sirius Black was their friend.

Sirius Black was their friend.

He betrayed them.

He got them killed.

Harry didn't know what he was feeling, but it's possible it was as murderous as anyone could feel.

He was angry at Black for making him lose his parents. He was angry at his friends for trying to make him "see reason" as if they understand how he feels. He was angry at all the adults who think they know better and hide this fact from him. He was angry that Hermione let McGonagall confiscate his Firebolt!

So yeah, Harry is angry a lot.

The highlight of that week had been learning the new Patronus Spell. Harry had an uncomfortable realization that his parent's last moment was the only memory he could hold on to. He tried to focus on winning Quidditch so he could ignore his suspiciously masochistic tendency to suffer the Dementor's presence just to remember them.

He did learn that Professor Lupin was friends with not just his dad, but Sirius Black. He couldn't ask for more information though. Not when he looked pained from the mention of his name.

So Harry went to the second person who possibly knew Black.

"Why didn't anyone tell me Black betrayed my parents?" Harry asked, with the same tone of asking the weather.

"Because they know you're the type of impetuous boy who would confront the Dark Lord's minion and a highly dangerous beast when it suited you, pass me the rosemary," Snape answered promptly. Not even pausing in his stirring for his batch of Pepper-up Potion.

Harry wasn't happy with the answer, especially because it made a sort-of valid point he wasn't going to admit. "That's different," he said as he passed him the herb.

"Oh, is that so?"

"He betrayed my parents."

"Which is supposed to be a compelling reason, how?" His careless tone only heats the already clamped frustration until it blows on Harry's face.

"Because he took them from me! I was a kid and he ruined my life, took away my family! My only real family and Black killed them!"

"Potter," he heard Snape growled, but Harry wasn't done with his tirade.

"Do you think I could stand being stuck in the castle, doing nothing while that man, who must have laughed at the idea of stabbing his friends in the back, is out there, free! My parents are six feet in the ground because of him!"

"Potter!"

"The worst part is the last memory I have of them is the day my dad screamed for my mum to run, and my mum begging for my life before they got killed. That's the only thing I have of them, and you're asking me if that's compelling enough?!"

"POTTER!"

"I didn't ask for them to die for me. I didn't ask to be the famous Boy-Who-Lived. I didn't ask for any of this!"

"HARRY!"

"WHAT?!"

Harry had been so consumed in his emotions, never did he realize he invoked his accidental magic. So blinded by his anger, he didn't stop to notice the bursting potion that blew up and coloured the ceiling, the glass jars of pickled ingredient broke to pieces, the fire that grew big enough to engulf the cauldron, nor the strewn parchment on the floor and shelves from the fierce wind he made.

But what shocked him the most was the flow of tears smearing his face like a broken dam.

"Did… did I…" Words left him when denial passed and the realization hit him like a freight train. Whose work office this is and who is alongside him in the room. The brewing emotion grew once more, but this time, Harry was feeling too much all at once. The lingering anger, the shameful tear-streaked face, the mortification of being vulnerable, the grief for his parents, and the fear for his Professor.

Especially the fear.

Harry turned away and quickly tried to wipe his eyes. But the more he wiped it, the more his eyes seemed to overflow. His back hunched, wishing his accidental magic would still be there to make himself invisible. Because of all people, Snape was the last person Harry wanted to see himself breaking down.

He heard the steps against the tile stones and the crunch of breaking glasses. Harry felt more than heard his Potion Professor getting closer as he braced himself for whatever outburst or punishment the man was ready to throw at him. A pair of hands held down his shoulder and he flinched. Harry hoped Snape wouldn't go so far as to physically harm him. He had enough of that from the Dursleys.

Harry felt a gentle nudge. Too exhausted to ask or question him, he let himself be pushed and guided to the Professor's chair. Still too ashamed to look up and meet his eyes, Harry watched the hint of shoes hidden behind the flowing lining of his robe disappearing to the side door. There was the sound of cabinets creaking open and the clinking bottles from being shifted until the shoes were back and a red bottle was placed on the desk.

"Drink." He ordered before Harry could ask. "It's a Calming Draught."

Harry nodded, he took the vial and tried opening it. Keyword "tried", seeing as his hand kept shaking. He managed it in the end, taking a big sip from it. Harry didn't even know his breathing had become erratic until his chest felt it wasn't going to burst anymore.

All the while, Snape said nothing. Already busy with salvaging his workspace. Fixing jars and putting parchments back with a flick of his wand, erasing scorch and stained marks, and throwing away the unsalvaged ingredients. With every move, Harry wondered if this was the moment he was going to crack and finally lash out. To spit out bitter words about his father, insulting his immature behaviour, or blaming his attitude for breaking his property.

But nothing came. No anger. No hatred. None. Leaving Harry the decency to wallow without judgment and embarrassment.

Once all the salvageable tools were fixed, Snape turned. His dark gaze piercing as he stares down at him, looking him down while keeping a neutral face. Though, 'neutral' was a stretch, coming from a man who looks like he wanted to murder everyone. He kept the silence between them for a bit too long, that Harry had to say something.

"Professor, I'm—"

"Go get rest, Potter."

It was nothing less of a dismissal and Harry didn't wait more than a second before darting out like a bat out of hell. He knew he wasn't acting like much of a Gryffindor by running away, but he outstayed his welcome. Or worse, talk about feelings with Professor Snape. Nuh-uh. No way. Not in a million years.

By the time Potion Class came around, Snape was his usual slimy-git self, ordering him around as if nothing happened. And Harry was happy to keep that pretense up.

…

Harry needed space so he decided to take a walk at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He was mindless about where he was going. Just far away from his problems. Oliver would have a lot to say if he saw him wasting time doing things other than practice Quidditch, but he wanted a moment where he doesn't need to think of anything and just… be.

At some point he came upon a herd of the same horses he saw right before the Opening Feast. The ones that his friends couldn't see for some reason. There was a blonde girl in the midst of them, petting one of the batty horses without fear or reservation.

The sight emboldens his awe and curiosity. Harry walked further until he stood beside her. The girl didn't make any signs of noticing him but greeted him nonetheless.

"Hello, Harry Potter."

"Hi." Harry spotted her barefooted feet and asked in concern, "Aren't your feet cold?"

"A bit, but I've lost my shoes recently. They have the tendency to disappear, you see, so I can only walk barefoot right now. I'm convinced the hobbits took them."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, they'll come running back. They always do."

Harry could now see why people called her 'Loony'. But he ignored that particular part of her in favour of addressing the elephant… well… the horse in the room in this case. "What are they?" he asked her.

"They're called Thestrals. They're quite gentle creatures but people generally avoid them because they are a bit–"

"–different." Harry can certainly relate, somehow that knowledge made them less scary. "But why can't the others see them?"

"They can only be seen by people who've seen death."

Harry almost took a double-take, glancing at the carefree girl who became deeply layered with that one sentence. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I was nine when it happened. My mother likes to experiment a tad much but that's what makes her a brilliant witch. Then one day, one of her spells went wrong, and the next thing I knew, she was gone."

"That must've been horrible."

"It is. But what is life without death?" She took a raw steak from her shoulder bag she had been carrying and threw one to the foal Thestrals. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes, who did you lose?"

Harry hesitated, not sure he wanted to share personal memories of his, but he thought it was unfair after she had shared hers. "My parents, I saw my mother's death. Though I didn't remember until the Dementors came."

"Do you mean the night You-Know-Who tried to kill you and failed?"

He huffed a sardonic chuckle, "That's the one."

"Is that why you're here? Because the Dementors upset you?"

"Well… I am upset, but surprisingly, the Dementors are the least of my worries."

"Is it because of Sirius Black?"

Harry blinked, surprised, "You know?!"

"Depends what you're asking. I know Black had been close to your family before he betrayed them..."

"Yeah, it'd seem everyone knows except me," Harry grumbled. No wonder Malfoy laughed.

"...but I don't know whether or not he came to Hogwarts to kill you."

Harry almost tripped from a misstep, "What? What do you mean? Why else would he escape Azkaban?"

"Well, Hogwarts has been crawling with Wrackspurt for decades. Professor Dumbledore wasn't going to do anything about it, so he might just come to finally exterminate them. But it's also nearly time for the Giddy Root harvest. Hogwarts has an abundance of them, it is said to keep the nasty nargles away so he may come for them." She said it without hitching her tone, that Harry has difficulty finding out whether she was joking or not. "But the only one who knows why Sirus Black came is Sirius Black. Other than him, everyone can only imagine his reason, just like me. Not everything has to be about you, Harry Potter."

Well, that's the nicest way anyone has told him not to be full of himself. Harry couldn't help but smile at her, "You do have a point."

"Is that all keeping your mind occupied?"

"Well, no, there's a lot of other things in mind, but… I do have a puzzle that's been confusing me, though."

"Oh?" Luna perked up a lot more, "Do tell, I do love a good puzzle."

Harry waited for the reservation to come when expressing his feelings, but he found he was feeling eager instead. Maybe because he knew he was being crazy, and who better than to share your feelings without judging than the infamous Loony Lovegood.

"There's this person who hates me with a passion of a thousand suns. Most of the time, being with him is like a test of how much I can endure being miserable."

It felt like having a broken dam because once he started, Harry couldn't stop the words from coming out.

"He's a brilliant man with a wicked mouth who uses it for any chance he's got to bully me in class, or anyone really. Like he's trying to get everyone to hate him. He's rude, unfairly biased, a perfectionist that has unrealistic expectations of others. And could he, for once, say my name like it wasn't some sort of disease he didn't want to catch? Oh, and Merlin forbids him from ever giving a compliment, it must be like pulling teeth from a dragon."

Harry huffed and puffed, not realizing he had vomited out words without a single pause for breath. But he couldn't help feeling lighter for getting out of his chest.

"You make him sound dreadful," Luna pointed out.

"He is, but… he also saved my life." Harry thought there was more of Snape he learned to appreciate other than his convenient timing in helping him, but for some reason, he has a harder time admitting his good(?) side — maybe he should think of it as his neutral side.

"He doesn't have to be good to save your life."

"I know that, but, but I can't help thinking he can be good. If he wants to. But he doesn't. God, this is frustrating."

"Do you want him to be good?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because…" he'd be less of a git? So he'd be kind and helpful to everyone else? So he doesn't make everyone's lives miserable? So he and Harry could talk like two decent people and—

Oh.

Oh!

Luna kept on petting the small foal as if she hadn't given Harry the surreal realization of his feelings toward the hatest man in school. He wanted nothing more but to put it aside, but then Luna put the final nail to the coffin, firmly burying his denial, "There's a muggle saying, you know, that we can't choose the people we love. I like to think it goes the same way for people we're fond of."

. . .

"What's this?" Snape suspiciously asked. His piercing gaze switched between the Boy-who-lived and the small sack of galleons on his table.

Harry huffed, a bit insulted that the man would think so little of him. "Compensation. For… you know… my outburst the other day. I'm, I'm sorry... I should have… Err…" he blushed, feeling lost for words as he had a hard time apologizing. The silent stare did not help his nerves and left Harry fumbling for words.

Finally, he made a move to pick up the sack of gold coins. He then picked up the Galleons one by one, counting meticulously with a loud klink before pushing the rest back to him. "Your little temper tantrum has cost me a good three months' worth of wage." Strangely, he then picked the coins in his hand and let them fall back into the sack. "But it's worth a great deal more to have you learn discipline instead."

Harry bit his tongue from retorting, thinking he deserved that much.

Snape then stood from his chair and summoned his cauldron. "Prepare the hamstring of the sheep, milk of Oak, and wisp ashes. We need it done before letting it simmer during the full moon."

After working with Snape for enough time, Harry was prompt in following his orders when it's just them two. It was only seeing the lines of ingredients that were unfamiliar to Harry that made him ask what it was.

"We're going to create a Dream Potion."

"Err… Don't you mean the Dreamless Potion, Professor?"

"Did I stutter?"

"I would hope so because then I have no clue how to make it."

"That's the point, here's the recipe. See if you can assist me."

Harry's eyes were blown by the implication. Assisting is a standard thing when doing potion making, that's why it's always done in pairs in class. So for the aloof Professor Snape to be asking for assist means a great deal of trust from his side.

Harry looked at the parchment he was given, eager to prove himself when it dawned on him what he was assigning himself for. "Wait a minute... This potion takes hours to brew!" he complained.

"Then you should get started."

And that's how Harry ended up stirring potion for four hours straight until his arms felt like noodles. Nevermind what he said about trust, Snape obviously loves his torture.

. . .

"Expecto Patronum!"

Harry yelled with the intensity of a soldier's war cry, but only a whisk of misty light came out from the tip. Harry's Lumos could be more intimidating than that. In frustration, he ended up wasting half the time kicking up pebbles. One flew up far enough and made a hard thud instead of a splash. The icy lake cracked but didn't look close enough to break. Making Harry fumed even more for some unreasonable sense.

Bright green eyes narrowed down at his wand like it had personally offended him, but he knew it wasn't its fault. But at this point, he was agitated enough to throw his precious first wand away. Harry then looked back at the crack and thought it made a really good target instead.

Harry was halfway considering it when he realized he doesn't know any kind of violent or flashy spells that would crack the ice to his satisfaction. He kicked another pebble, but he fell back to the thick snow that cushioned him instead. It took looking at the grey sky for a moment before Harry realized he had embarrassingly slipped from his own feet.

Harry rolled over, not caring for the stinging cold that hit his face, and screamed a muffled scream, wishing for the ground to swallow him whole so he could just stop caring for everything.

A rough growl that brings shudders to his entire body had made Harry tense. He quickly sat straight and spotted a dark shadow looking down on him from afar. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the bright piercing inhuman eyes that seemed to penetrate his soul.

It was the Grimm.

It dashed forward in a black blur. Harry tried getting up to run away, but his feet became clumsy all of a sudden. He tried getting as far as possible, and only managed to drag himself back. Never leaving the Grimm out of his sight. Harry barely moved a foot away before the Grimm was near. The figure jumped over him, and Harry let out a yell as Death loomed over him so near and thought he might meet his end.

Until he was met with a slobbery lick to the face. At that point, his scream died down and was replaced with giggles which turned into a blown out laughter.

"Damnit, why the hell did you run all of a sudden—Oh, Harry."

Harry tried sitting straight, dislodging the black furry figure but didn't stop sniffing his face. "Percy!" Cried Harry when he saw who it was.

"Hey, I see you met a new friend."

Harry had to push it away so he had some breathing space, but the Grimm was persistent. He opted to scratch the back of his ear, and it slightly calmed down. It dawns on Harry that the thing he had been afraid of since his outburst at Privet Drive had been a normal dog after all.

Well, a magic dog at least if it managed to follow him all the way. Considering Crookshanks and the owls, he figured animals that hang around magic are smarter than most.

"Is this your dog?"

"No, Snuffles is his own dog. He'd be angry if you said he belonged to anyone… except for you, maybe."

"Why?"

Percy shifted his eyes away and didn't answer, "Hey, what are you doing out so early alone?"

Harry knew a change of subject when he saw one and decided to indulge the guy, "I was practising the Patronus Spell."

"Alone? Isn't that a spell you learn in seventh year?"

"There were… circumstances… so I don't really want anyone to know I'm learning it."

"Ah, don't want them to make a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"Exactly!"

"Having difficulties?"

"Sort of, I managed to make a light wisp from it. But I can't seem to maintain it very long. Even though I have a few good memories in mind, they don't seem to keep the spell as long as I want."

Percy didn't answer for a while as he tried to come up with a good answer and Harry used that moment to pet the dog still draped on him.

"Happy memories… is how you make the Patronus spell but that's an inadequate way to teach it." Percy scrunched his brows, concentrating on the words that can best explain it to him. "Wizards label Dementors as the embodiment of fear but it's more accurate to say that they are the embodiment of misery. They are the nightmares that wake you up at night, the words that tear your mind apart, the weight that keeps your chest heavy. What we feel around Dementors doesn't stop just because we're not around them.

"That's why, rather than just concentrating on happiness, you need to find a memory that reminds you that, even with bad days, there are good days too that help you move forward. Memories that give you drive, that keep your will alive, or simply give you hope."

'Hope… that sounded a bit cliche' but Harry refrained from commenting. "I, I don't know if I have it."

"Sure you do, anyone that wakes up and decides to live another day has some hope. I'm sure you'll figure yours out with time. Anyway, I better get going. Take care of Snuffles while I'm gone, will you? He hasn't been eating much."

Harry almost forgot about the fond weight sitting on his lap, and he could have sworn the dog was pouting for being ignored for a while. Harry started petting the dog again and immediately seemed to cheer up.

"Where do you always go? Heck, more importantly, how am I supposed to feed him?"

"Just call one of the house-elves and ask where the kitchen is. And where I'm going… well… wherever or whenever I'm needed I suppose. See ya, Harry."

Harry wanted to stop and hold him down so he could finally answer him without riddles. But he knew better than to waste his energy. So he stayed silent as Percy walked away until he could no longer see his godfather's back.

Harry looked down at the dog, who looked either expectant or nervous. He was pretty sure Harry was imagining its expression. "Alright, shall we search for the kitchen together?"

Snuffles barked, and Harry figured in agreement then shushed him.

"We have to keep it quiet, okay? It's still early so not many are up but don't let anyone see you." Dogs aren't on the list of acceptable pets to bring to Hogwarts so he didn't want to test his luck.

Harry wasn't sure how to call up a house-elves, he didn't even know Hogwarts had them. Shyly, he cupped his mouth and softly called out to thin air. He was thinking how stupid he looked before one suddenly popped out in front of him. Harry yelled in surprise as he was tackled by the arriving house-elf.

"Oh, Harry Potter, Sir, Dobby misses you."

"Wait, Dobby?! What are you doing here?"

With a spring to his feet and a smile on his face that you couldn't imagine finding a year ago, Dobby began explaining how Dumbledore graciously hired a working house-elf in the Hogwarts Kitchen. Harry thought that was brilliant and congratulated him as such.

"Dobby, you don't think the elves mind much if I feed a stray dog, would they?"

"Absolutely not, Sir! All house-elves love Harry Potter. They would do whatever Harry Potter says."

That's a bit scary. Harry wasn't sure he wanted an army of Dobbies in his beck and call. One was already troubling enough.

Afterwards, Dobby guided him to a painting and showed him the tickled pear. The house-elves were thrilled and welcomed him to their workspace, giving Harry an assortment of snacks and food that he and Snuffles both engorged themselves in. Harry could see why his father would often sneak into the kitchen.

Harry looked at the skinny dog, wagging back and forth as it stuffed its mouth in a bowl of pie. "Must be nice being a dog, you don't have to worry about exams, Git Professor, or an insane murderer coming to get you."

Snuffles' ears perked up and looked up at him with wide round eyes, a bit of cream snuck on top of its nose. Harry chuckled before helping to wipe it off, "It's nothing."

Maybe the dog sensed it wasn't nothing, he jumped on Harry and gave him a wet lick on his face that tickled him as Harry struggled between pushing and hugging him back. "Stop it!" he chuckled, "You've got dog slobber all over me!"

. . .

'When was the last time I ran this fast?' Harry thought. 'Oh yeah, from a basilisk.'

But this time, he has nothing to run from other than time itself. Panting a sharp pain while zooming through the hundreds of steps until he reached the end of the secret tunnel.

But then just as he hid his cloak, climbed out the tunnel, and closed the witch's hump, he soon was met with the last teacher he wished would catch Harry in the act.

"So," Snape said as soon as he arrived. Scanning his flushed face and muddy shoes.

If he had been gleeful, Harry would have been annoyed. If he had been displeased, Harry would have sucked it up. But Snape looked evidently disappointed, making Harry stumped.

"Come, Potter!" He ordered.

Harry followed behind silently, feeling a little like he's being dragged to the gallows. His feet memorized the way to Snape's office after the numerous times he visited him. He sat in his usual seat as Snape carefully leaned forward from behind his desk. Harry figured that desk was the only thing blocking the Professor from outright strangling him if the Death Glare was any indication.

"So, before I begin to state the reason why I brought you here, is there something you'd like to say to me?"

"Should I be?" Harry tried to play it off.

"You see, Mister Malfoy gave me the strangest tale," Snape began, striding in casual steps to Harry's space, "of being attacked by an invisible apparition with a large amount of mud hitting him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?"

Harry gave his best to look mildly surprised. "I don't know, Professor."

Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like trying to stare down Buckbeet. Harry tried hard not to blink. "Mister Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?"

"No," said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious.

"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair."

There was a long silence. Had Harry's situation not been so dire, he might have found the sentence funny.

"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said Harry, trying to sound as clueless as possible. "If he's starting to hallucin—"

"Spare me your dumb act, Potter, you're not fooling anyone," snarled Snape, and he bent down with a hand on each arm of Harry's chair. Harry felt trapped as he was stared down with only a foot apart between him and Snape, "Guileless as Mister Malfoy is, he is not stupid. If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you. Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."

Harry wasn't cowed, he kept staring up defiantly, "I think my head would need my permission to be anywhere, Professor, which is not much when I don't have it."

"Watch your smart mouth, boy! I will not be spoken like one of your schoolyard foes."

"Then maybe you shouldn't talk to me like I'm a scrounger." Harry's voice started to rise and he couldn't seem to stop himself, "Even if I did go out, what's the big deal? It's not like it's hurting anyone. You just want to make my life miserable for your personal amusement!"

Snape loomed over him. His thin mouth curled into a horrible smile, but one look in his eyes and anyone could tell he was far from amused. Harry recognized that gaze from his first year every time he so much as glanced at him that felt so long ago, times when Neville almost made a killer explosion in class, and the time he left from the Hospital Wing when Harry accused him of not caring.

Snape was livid.

"The big 'deal' you asinine mooncalf is that the Minister has bent their back backwards to keep Famous Harry Potter safe from a mass murderer coming after him. But oh, Famous Harry Potter doesn't care. He is a law unto himself, isn't he? Let the ordinary people worry about his safety while Famous Harry Potter can do whatever he wants to, with no thought for the consequences!"

Harry wanted to talk back, refute the statements, proved Snape wrong, and asked what a "mooncalf" is, but then he was reminded back of the Potion Disaster and shame coloured his face. The reminder that he had been vulnerable and acted like the brat Snape always seemed to think he was. Lying to him only seemed to prove Snape's point and Harry closed his mouth.

"These days, I began to think you may be different from your father. Clearly, I was wrong."

"You know nothing about my dad," Harry grumbled.

"Oh, I know him better than most people think. Including the uncanny resemblance you have for the complete disregard for rules, trying to have fun without thinking of the consequences like the pompous, lazy, arrogant lout your father had been. But at least he has enough self-preservation not to get himself killed."

"Don't talk about my father that way!" Harry stood and fumed at the ugly man's face. "You wouldn't even be here if not for him! I know the truth. Dumbledore told me my father saved your life."

"Is that what he said? Saving me? That's an amusing way to spin the tale of him cleaning up his mess during one of his cronies' jokes. He was saving his own skin as well as mine. Had the joke succeeded, your 'saintly' father and his merry band would have been expelled from Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head, "No… you… you're lying."

"Your good for nothing father had never been a hero. He couldn't even die protecting your mother!"

"SHUT UP!" Harry roared to his face, "Shut up! You don't even care about me. All I ever am is a job to you!"

"Yes." He answered, and the quick answer felt like a punch in the gut more than anything he had said to Harry. The boy refused to let a single tear break out and looked away from the hated man.

It irritated him. It annoyed him. But most of all, it hurt him to hear those words from Snape. Harry wondered why he started to like the slimy git, but he knew the answer already. For all his faults, the man was a diligent person, who took no nonsense from others or himself. A sharp witty retort to just about anyone he ever met as if he's subtly asking for a fight. Firm hands that held Harry grounded as he waited patiently for Harry to calm down. The amicable exchange they shared in the privacy of his office. And a horrible sense of humour that you couldn't tell at first glance.

But apparently, all of that means nothing to him.

"Then maybe you should have left me to Black," Harry spat, his ears still pounding, "At least if I'm dead you have one less dunderhead to worry about."

Snape said nothing for a while, he had his back on him. Harry could only imagine what he must have looked like but cared less at that point. Snape began asking him to turn out his pockets, revealing a few damning pieces of evidence of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map. Though Harry tried to play it off as something Ron had given him.

But then Snape keyed in the Map and Harry failed to hide the stricken look when the Professor reached for it. It was enough of a hint in Snape's mind to threaten to burn the empty parchment, much too mundane to be in Potter's possession.

"So!" said Snape, his long nostrils quivering. "Is this another treasured gift from Mister Weasley? Or is it something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"

"Why would that even matter?" Harry gritted his teeth.

"Because, you insolent featherless goose, if there's a way to get past the Dementors into Hogsmeade then there's a way for Black to do the same vice versa."

Leave it to Snape to make a shaved goose sound like the most insulting thing he can hurl at you.

Snape's eyes gleamed. "Let me see, let me see…" he muttered, taking out his wand and smoothing the map out on his desk. "Reveal your secret!" he said, touching the wand to the parchment.

Nothing happened. Harry clenched his hands to stop them from shaking as he took calming breaths.

"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Snape said, hitting the map with his wand.

As though an invisible hand was writing upon it that reminded Harry a bit of Voldemort's diary, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.

Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.

Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first. Harry closed his eyes as more and more of the mocking writing came about...

Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.

Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.

Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.

Harry waited for the blow to fall as he watched the carefully placid face fall apart into contorted fury, "So… we'll see about this…" he softly intoned murderously.

Snape strode across to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames. "Lupin!" Snape hissed into the fire. "I demand a word!"

Harry was bewildered, watching a large human shape in the fire, revolving very fast before Professor Lupin was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes.

"You called, Severus?"

"I certainly did, I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this." Snape practically shoved the parchment to Lupin before striding back to his desk.

An odd, closed expression appeared on Lupin's face as he stared at the map. Harry figured he had a thousand different things running through his head.

"Well, Lupin?" prodded Snape. "Anything you want to say?"

But Lupin kept staring at the parchment, his shoulders started shaking. He had his hand covered half his face before he glanced up at Snape, then to Harry, then back at the parchment. "I, I don't know what you want me to say, Severus. All I see here is a childish joke parchment meant to insult anybody who reads it."

"Don't play coy with me," said Snape, his jaw had gone rigid with anger, "We both know exactly what that is not and had appeared to find its way to Potter's hand after I suspected him of going off bounds from school. Which is why I need to know where he could get it from, like, let's say, the manufacturer?"

Harry didn't understand what Snape was talking about. Nor, apparently, did Lupin. His eyes were wide in a curious and innocent manner.

"You mean, by Mister Wormtail or one of these people?" he asked before turning to the boy, "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No," answered Harry quickly.

"You see, Severus? It looks like a Zonko product to me—"

Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was clutching the stitch in his chest from running hard and trying to reason Harry's toys were given from him between his short of breath. The misunderstanding was cleared so Lupin cheerfully had them swept out from the room. The map carefully tucked inside his ragged robes.

Harry didn't dare to look at Snape as they left his office nor did he want to. He would rather never see that greasy git ever again if he has the choice.

But then Lupin turned back to the two boys and spoke sternly, "I don't want to hear explanations," Lupin glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mister Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map."

Harry and Ron looked amazed as if Lupin was an all-knowing seer.

"I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly, after the last time, someone left information lying about in the castle so I can't let you have it back."

Harry understood where he was coming from, expected it even. But he can't help but ask, "Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Professor Snape, Harry, and because…" Lupin hesitated, "because we both know these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

Harry frowned, "You knew them." It was a statement.

"In a way," he vaguely answered. Lupin then gazed intensely at Harry more than ever before. "I hope you don't expect me to cover up for you after this. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought after hearing what you heard near the Dementors, it would have had more of an effect on you. So I'll say this instead; your parents gave their lives to keep you safe, Harry. It's a poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."

Harry felt shame welled up in him, he couldn't bear to look Lupin in the face and figured his shoes were more interesting. "Professor Snape more or less said the same thing."

"Well, Professor Snape may be rough around the edges but he got the right idea most of the time... So much so that he can be a buzzkill."

"He's a git." Ron swivelled his head at Harry, taken aback at the blunt insult in the accompaniment with another teacher.

"I'm not denying it, but…" Professor Lupin hesitated, like saying any more felt like he was breaching a contract, "...Severus cares, Harry. In his own way."

"Well, you're wrong. Snape made it pretty clear I'm nothing to him." Not wanting to stay in this conversation, he walked off before he was dismissed. Ron hesitantly followed behind, letting him stew with his anger for a while before asking what had happened in Snape's office.

"Just Snape being an arse as usual."

Ron might have prodded further if not for Hermione bringing news of Hagrid's loss in trial and Buckbeak's execution.

. . .

Harry stopped going to Snape's Private Lesson from that moment on and Snape made it a point to not bring up his 'extracurricular activity' when he had been so adamant at the start for Harry to commit himself to "the art of potion." He even went so far as to ignore Harry altogether during his actual lessons with him. No jabbing, no sneering, he barely even acknowledged his presence.

It was one of the most tranquil potion lessons he ever had and yet Harry was fuming. He glared daggers at the slimy old man the whole time to the point he was distracted enough to let a cauldron explode.

Snape gave a few stern words without a single 'dunderhead' thrown out, took away points without giving detentions, and left just like that.

Harry swore he had never loathed a man as much as he did then.

. . .

The Boy-Who-Lived was numb once the truth of the Marauders; Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs was revealed.

He came intentionally trying to calm Snuffles down and saved Ron, then was ready to kill Sirius Black for killing his parents, and suddenly found himself looking at Professor Lupin hugging Black like he was a long-lost brother with Hermione shrieking and revealing him as a Werewolf.

Harry's head was still in the middle of loading the information dump but letting his anger take the wheel at the moment. Screaming at him for helping his parents' traitor.

Until they claimed Ron's pet rat as Pettigrew. At that point, Harry was convinced they were both mad. But he was so enthralled by the tale of his father's time as a youth that he barely cared.

Lupin expressed his fear and self-disgust for lying and deceiving Dumbledore. Both from during his school years and as part of his staff. "And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… So, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black blankly back at Lupin, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well."

"For real?!" The shock of the news was enough to wipe off the manic glint in his eyes, "That greasy git? A teacher? You're kidding?"

"I'm serious, Sirius." Lupin's lips quirked up from an old inside joke.

"That man wouldn't get 5 feet near a baby. What was Dumbledore thinking, making him a teacher? Does he want his students deprived by his dreary sense of humour?"

"Anyway!" Lupin glared at Sirius for interrupting before looking back up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Professor Snape fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons. You see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

Sirius made a derisive noise, "He shouldn't be trying to get us expelled if he didn't want us to retaliate—"

"For the love of Merlin, SHUT UP, SIRIUS!" Lupin smacked upside his head. The trio reasonably leaned back from the outburst. "You have no leg to stand after your carelessness almost killed a fellow student, no matter what excuse. You should be lucky James saved him before it turned into a fullblown murder, you absolute wanker!"

Sirius looked downright chastised by that point.

Lupin turned back to the Golden Trio and explained more calmly, giving them whiplash from his mood. He began explaining Sirius' prank by leading Professor Snape into the Shrieking Shack through telling how to get past the Whomping Willow because he thought it would be, in his words, "amusing." Snape's brand of curiosity led him to a fully grown werewolf, to which Dumbledore had forbidden him to tell anyone.

"So that's why Professor Snape doesn't like you or my dad," said Harry slowly, understanding dawning on him, "because he thought both of you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at the other professor. "That and the fact he almost turned me into a werewolf." He glared at Lupin, "Which you conveniently left out."

Everyone was astonished by Snape's sudden ghostly appearance. Hermione screamed. Black leaped to his feet. Harry felt as though he'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak back at Harry, careful to keep his wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you."

Severus breathed in suppressed triumph, "What a poetic scene; the traitor, the deranged mutt, alongside the werewolf." His eyes glittered fanatically. "Aaah, how vengeance is sweet."

"Severus…" Lupin began, wide eyes, "How did you—"

"—know you were here? I've just been to your office, Remus. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a goblet-full along. And very lucky — lucky for me, I mean — lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know."

"I know what you're thinking, Severus," said Lupin urgently. "But you haven't heard everything— Please, I can explain— Sirius is not here to kill Harry—"

"Save your breath, Remus," Black commented before he drew in close to the black-robed man with clear distaste, "Once again you put your keen, penetrating mind to the task and as usual you come up with the wrong conclusion."

With a snarl, Snape put his wand pointing straight at Black's throat. "Give me a reason, Black," Snape whispered as their faces closed in on one another. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

"Will what, Snivellus?" Black challenged back. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Remus tried to block his way between them, "Severus, don't be a fool!"

"He can't." Sirius retorted, "It's a habit by now."

"Sirius, you shut your trap for once!"

"I'll shut my trap once he shits the stick from his arse!"

Remus throws up his hand like he's given up.

"Still bicker like an old married couple, I see," Snape sneered.

"Severus, be reasonable!" Remus cried out once again, "Is a schoolboy grudge enough reason to convict an innocent man?!"

"This man is far from innocent and he knows exactly why." Severus hissed, his eyes beyond deranged, "All these years, I've been longing for the day to shove a wand down your throat just to see you choke with it."

Harry stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. He glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers.

Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape... I understand your point of view, but, but now that you're here, it wouldn't hurt to at least hear what they've got to say, wouldn't it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already risking suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are clearly out-of-bounds without any supervision when time and time again we have reminded those defunct minds of yours that there is a convicted murderer on the loose and you're in the company of a werewolf. So for once in your miserable life, Miss Granger, hold your tongue before I decide to make sure none of you can walk into trouble for the sake of my sanity and your lives!"

Sparks flew from the tip of his wands as Snape's tone grew ever higher, and Hermione reasonably fell silent. As someone who spent most of his time with the man, Harry mentally commend him for not spewing out a curse at either of them already.

"And YOU!" Severus went back glaring murderously at Lupin, "All I've heard and seen to this point was reminiscing about the 'good old Marauders day' you seemed to have at the expense of others. As well as putting students' lives at risk through the same lies and deception you've given to the Headmaster because of your own personal issues. You accuse me of having a childhood grudge, yet why in nine bloody rings of hell should I believe any word you said?"

Remus looked ashen as he stumbled out, "The rat… if we could prove the rat…"

"Ah yes, the Peter Pettigrew Theory. A plausible explanation but what would that prove exactly? That Black isn't a killer? He admitted trying to kill him twelve years ago. That he isn't a traitor? For all we know, Peter's hiding from becoming your scapegoat before you went mad."

"Fuck you too, Snape," Black growled. Harry feared he might just ignore the wand inching deeper at his throat to lunge at the potion professor. "I don't care what you think, that rat dies tonight!"

"Give me a reason, one good reason, Black. I beg you," Snape whispered as they were nose to nose.

Harry felt like he was standing on a tightrope where he didn't know which way the tension would push him to fall. He watched the standoff between the three men in the worst sort of High School Reunion this must be. He wasn't sure who was right or wrong, or what's the best thing to do.

So Harry spouted the first thing in his head, "I've been feeding him."

Everyone in the room turned their eyes on him, and Harry wouldn't blame them if they thought he had gone insane.

"What?" Severus spatted out the questions, demanding him to explain.

"The Grim… I, I mean Sirius. I thought he was a stray dog that I first thought was an omen of death but then Percy Jackson came and asked me to take care of him, I mean the dog, I mean the Sirius-dog." Now Harry is blabbering. "There were a lot of times he could have killed me when I snuck him into the kitchen for food this whole time so… maybe… they're telling… the truth?"

"Wait," Sirius sounded perturbed, "So I didn't hallucinate Percy? You saw him too?"

"What are you both talking about?" Lupin looked unsure what to say, "Percy disappeared during the war," he answered carefully like he's afraid it might set Harry off. "Harry, you never met him."

But Harry didn't pay any heed, looking straight at Professor Snape. Harry didn't know what kind of relationship Snape had with the older boy, and he knew his own tentative relationship with the potion professor was off-kilter. But both of them had already tried to save his life together. He could only hope it meant something.

As if a spell had been cast, Snape's whole demeanour changed, swinging his wand toward his best friend.

The rat became more restless in Ron's hands until the rodent slipped out. He feared the suspected Pettigrew-rat might go loose and take the truth away. Then, a flash of blue light hit the scurrying rat. Harry watched in morbid fascination as the rat twisted in all angles before hitting the floor as it grew like a speeded-up recording of a growing seedling. Limbs and a head grew out before a man laid where Scabbers should be.

Three adults surrounded him, wands on hand pointed at the mess of an adult that Harry can finally put a face to the man known as Peter Pettigrew.

"Well, hello Peter," Lupin said pleasantly, but there was a dark edge in his smile, almost wolfish even. "Long time no see."

"Si, Sirius… Remus…" Peter squeaked, his eyes darting to the nearest exit, "My old friends…"

Black looked ready to curse him, but Lupin was quick to seize his arm, "Not yet, Sirius."

"Then everything you said," Harry heard himself say, "All of it, it's all true."

"But how?" Hermione asked gobsmacked.

Remus and Sirius began explaining how Harry's parents made Peter the Potter's secret keeper at the last minute as a bluff without telling anyone they thought were a spy. How he cut one of his fingers to prove his death and lived his life like a rat for 12 years in the Weasleys. How Sirius communicated with Crookshank to get him help to the Tower.

"And the rest was as you might say; history," Black finished.

"Lies!" Peter cried out, "All lies! You can't believe him, Remus. He killed Lily and James! Now he's coming after me too! I had to hide twelve years as a rat because of him! Please, Remus, you've got to help me!"

"Why do you have to hide for twelve years, hmm?" Lupin asked pleasantly as if talking to a toddler who's panicking for no reason, "No one could imagine Sirius to break out of Azkaban when no one had done it before."

"He, he, he's got dark powers none of us can dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly, and even to Harry's ears it sounded like a pathetic excuse, "The Dark Lord had given it to him. How else could he get out?"

"As much as the very idea of defending Black appalls me," Snape finally voiced his two cents, "Why had Black needed twelve years to get out of Azkaban for the sake of killing an insignificant rat like you? You're not special, Pettigrew. You never were. The only worth you have now is a traitor among these couple of buffoons."

Harry had never seen Snape like this. His cold attitude usually simmered with anger or frustration. He'd seen him look murderous, exasperated, and hateful. But now? Never had Harry seen the kind of coldness that leaves you feeling like a worthless bug waiting to be squashed. Pettigrew could have died right there and then, not by his hands, and Snape wouldn't have batted an eye.

"Be- Be- Because I'm the reason he's in prison!"

"And yet he needs to convince three 13-year-olds and two Hogwarts professors in order to kill you. Exactly what is this miraculous gift the Dark Lord bestowed Black that no one else had, taking more than a decade to escape a prison that may have scraped out his sanity at any moment of that time? Please, elaborate. For I can't seem to comprehend the magnitude of this gift of his."

"That doesn't mean I'm guilty! I was only trying to hide, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name's supporters were after me!"

"I thought you said you were a rat because of Black? Exactly what is the truth, Pettigrew? Because your story seems to keep changing every time we poke holes in it." He had a twisted gleam in his eyes, "Our patience is running thin."

Wow, Snape is really rolling with this interrogation thing.

"I— I— Remus... Sirius... you can't possibly believe this lunacy?!" Pettigrew started changing targets as he pointed fingers at Snape, "He's a Death Eater. He always has been. I'm just a victim here. Snape willingly served You-Know-Who! He was a spy too! Don't listen to him! He's tricked you, he must have tricked Dumbledore and everyone else!"

"You're right," Snape replied, his eyes never leaving Pettigrew, turning his usual chilling gaze at him. "I had my fair share of experience of being under the Dark Lord's beck and call. I pledged him my loyalty and carried out atrocities under his name."

The answer, the confirmation, made Harry's throat closed up. He noticed Hermione and Ron took a step back at the thought of having a Death Eater in close quarters for so long. By the man Harry grew to trust over the years, his head started spinning all over again from finding out Snape belonged to the group that got his parents killed, had served his parents' murderer.

But then Snape bent to his knees so he could meet the small man eye-to-eye. "Then you must understand why I am dying to gouge your eyes and crushed it under my heel, cut off every little filthy finger you have and force you to eat them, and to give you a slow, agonizing death that makes you wish you were never born into this pathetic life had I had my way with you," His Professor cooed softly, almost lovingly like nothing could bring him more joy than Pettigrew's suffering.

His words sent shivers down Harry's spine and looked between Black and Lupin who didn't look at all surprised by his words, never looking away at the deathly pale traitor. Even Hermione, who usually had a million and one questions, was too scared to ask anything.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward his last hope of survival. "Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

Pettigrew kept begging for mercy using James' name to invoke the slightest sympathy he could get from the man's son. Snape scoffed while both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny you're the spy?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius. I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you?" Lupin pointed out, "It used to be us… me and Sirius... and James…"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black, "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would."

The three of them had their wands raised, looking ready to work as one to carry out a murder, right in front of Harry's eyes. He looked down at the pathetic, disgusting man. Harry wanted him dead just as much as the rest and to be rid of the rat.

He… he couldn't. He didn't know why, but Harry knew in his gut that it's wrong to stand by and watch as the people from his father's life become the bitter, angry men they are now. They had just said their goodbye to the traitor when Harry shouted NO! Blocking them from their target. The thought of defending the traitor made Harry want to hurl but he persisted.

The adults reasonably staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted, "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew and flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You— thank you— it's more than I deserve— thank you—"

"Get off me," Harry spatted, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because... I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers because of a rat like you." The reason came at the top of his head, but it felt right saying it. Harry then realized being a killer makes them no better than Pettigrew. Harry would never allow that.

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other, while Snape had a piercing gaze on him like he was searching deep into his soul. Harry wasn't afraid to meet his eyes and let him see whatever he wanted to see.

Then, in one movement, they lowered their wands.

"Pity," Snape sneered, "There would have been one less grievance with his carcass on the floor."

"Oh, come off it. You just wanted to make it harder for me to get free without him as evidence!" Sirius accused him.

"My point exactly."

Black looked ready to strangle Snape if Lupin hadn't held him back by the scruff of his neck.

Snape ignored him to walk over Pettigrew, not caring he'd stepped over him to examine Ron's legs. He took one look and clicked his tongue, "Looks like your femur is cracked, Mister Weasley, and you've lost quite a lot of blood from punctured words shaped like a dog-bite, might anyone explain why?"

Black looked away, and if Harry didn't know better, the crazed man looked like he was blushing, "I, err, kind of… got carried away."

"My, my, injuring a student during your pursuit of vigilante vengeance. That won't go well for your defence in trial."

"I wasn't in my right mind!"

"Clearly, but you never were, so that's not new."

"Gentlemen!" Lupin cried after tying up Pettigrew, "Can we postpone this discussion after we get back to the castle?"

Snape and Black glared at each other before the Professor turned back at Ron. He whispered a string of long, chantilly spells that closed up the wound he had. "I've administered first aid, but it's best to have Madam Pomfrey get a look at your injury."

"Right. Myself first," Crookshanks meowed, "Err, I suppose Crookshanks first then, I think, followed by me with Peter in tow, then you three, with Sirius and Severus at the back." Lupin said, pointing his wand at Pettigrew and letting a crushed-nose cat lead them out.

Harry waited as Snape levitated Ron, and then followed Lupin. Even though Harry was in front of him, he could just tell the highly irritated glare being shot at the back of his head for being a "reckless idiot" to borrow his words after getting himself in danger before waiting for help… again.

He was saved from the brunt of his anger as he heard the restarted argument with Black. Though what it was about, not even Ron knows because of how low they were hissing at each other.

But then there was a lull in their argument and Black started addressing Harry. "You know what this means?" he said, "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," Harry stated.

"Yes… But I'm also... I don't know if anyone ever told you... I'm your godfather."

Harry nodded. He knew that but wasn't sure why he had brought that up. But he waited, patiently listened for his thoughts to be said aloud.

Black began to stiffly stammer about what made him a godfather, what it entails. Harry's eyes widened, his gut churned hopefully when the man started offering a place in his home. Harry didn't hesitate saying yes to the idea of living anywhere else outside the Dursley. Of finally having a real home with a real family.

Harry barely noticed Snape looking wide-eyed before he began scoffing with the usual sneer on his face. "Please, as if you know how to take care of a child. You can't even manage to put your last pair of brain cells together."

The first genuine smile on Black's gaunt face quickly fell, giving the stink eye at Snape. "I know how to use my brain cells to zip that mouth of yours that nobody wants to listen to."

The two commenced to argue once more and Harry was a bit lost at how to keep them civil.

"Don't worry they're always like this," Lupin reassured Harry, having observed the boy who kept glancing at the two men behind.

"Cross me again, Black, and I'll have your entrails stuffed into a Mandrake's fertilizer and your blood drained for a Retard Potion."

"Try it, you snivelling git. And I'll chomp your nose off and feed them to Hagrid's newest pets."

"Though there were fewer death threats between them last I remembered," Lupin smiled sheepishly. Harry can relate a bit with him, seeing them being a violent version of Ron and Hermione. But he's mostly too giddy to leave the Dursley to care about the little things.

Harry should have known better than to have things ended so nicely. He should have realized the moment moonlit shone the brightest that night.

Black and Snape immediately shuffled forward, shielding the Golden Trio behind them. Harry wasn't sure what got them so tense until Harry heard the loud, painful cry from Professor Lupin. He looked up at the full moon and it hit at the same time as his friends.

"Oh, my!" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Snape, get them to safety." Black gruffly ordered, "All of you, RUN!"

Snape tried to do just that, but Harry resisted, his feet planted firmly. "No, Sirius, we can't leave you—!" I can't lose you.

There was a terrible snarling noise as Lupin began his slow transformation into an otherworldly creature. He looked the least bit like the wolf shown in encyclopedias or documentaries, and more like another creature entirely of its own. His pained wail turned into an echoing howl.

"Leave him to me— Just go! RUN!"

Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward at the hunched werewolf. Both of them crashing to each other into a violent wrestling; jaw ripping jaw, claws against claws.

"Harry! Scabbe— the rat— he's getting away!" Ron screamed, snapping Harry from the grueling fight. Belatedly realizing Pettigrew shifting to a rat to get loose from the manacle biding.

Snape realized the same. He let go of his spell on Ron and dropped him, face first, on the grass. "Imobulus!" Snape shouted.

Pettigrew escaped in the nick of time. Spells zipping left and right, but the glimmer of the rat's reflex showed him evading effortlessly. Even Crookshanks joined the fray to catch the sneaky bastard. However, Pettigrew managed to reach for Lupin's wand. There was a flash. A bang. Crookshank went flying.

Quicker than he could tell what spell Snape used, another flash of spell shot out and met with Pettigrew's spell. Their wands were ever flowing with curses and counters. Snape seemingly conducted a concert while Peter was barely keeping tempo.

Harry and his friends were transfixed at the sight. On the left was a duel between wizards, on the right was a gruelling dogmatch. The sound of crackling hot light mixed with bone shuddering growls. They could barely tell what would happen next.

However, with Snape being a better wizard overall and Pettigrew using a non-compatible wand, it was only a matter of time before the traitor got overwhelmed. The spell knocked the wand out of his hand and 'slashed' his face. The man cried as he held onto his bleeding wound. Then, another spell hit him and froze him in place.

Snape had obviously won the duel, but he looked far from satisfied. Maybe that's why he hadn't noticed when a bear-sized dog came flying at him, knocking him aside. Then the werewolf came bounding over, pinning Snape to the ground and sandwiching Sirius between them.

Harry pointed his wand at Lupin. "Expelliarmus!" The cursed man was thrown off but only by a foot or two. He was on his feet and began stalking over to Harry.

"Don't just stand there, you numbskull! Run, Harry— RUN!"

Harry tried to do so, but he misstepped and fell on his behind. Harry kept crawling back nonetheless and just as Lupin was upon him. A sword was placed around his neck, and a figure was riding on top of him, forcing him to be on his two hind legs and backed away from Harry.

"Yo, Remus, I know this is your time of the month but that is no excuse for you to take a bite out of your student." The voice told Harry who he was before the moonlight cleared the figure's face.

"Percy!" Harry grinned.

The black-haired boy waved in greeting before he was thrown back. He switched his sword with his wand. Snape and a human-Sirius standing beside him with their wands raised at Lupin.

"You're late," Snape snided.

Percy scoffed, "Gee, exactly who here is busting his butt saving your boy?"

"Err..." Sirius cautiously pointed out the newcomer. "So I'm not the crazy one seeing Percy still looking like he just graduated out of Hogwarts, right?"

"No, you're not crazy, Sirius."

"Oh, alright then, which begs the question; WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?!"

Were-lupin doesn't seem to like being ignored as he hunched over like he was ready to jump on them.

"Incarcerous!" The three of them cast the same spell at the same time. Ropes started binding around their target, incapacitating and muzzling him.

But then Hermione screamed and pointed at Pettigrew. The spell having worn off, the rat waved smugly at them before transforming back into a rat and scurrying off.

"Oh, no, you don't—" Sirius growled before joining in, turning into his animagus form.

"Black— stop!"

Too late, Sirius skipped into a chase. The sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.

Snape was just about to chase him when Lupin managed to muscle his way out of the ropes and had to shift focus in favour of protecting his students. Snape growled in frustration, "That absolute nimrod— he forgot the Dementors are still out for his blood."

The reminder of the soul-sucking wraiths made Harry's blood chilled. He got up and desperately ran after Sirius into the darkness. He heard Hermione's and Ron's cries from behind but ignored them. Harry didn't have to hear to know Snape must be cursing his name right about now.

There was a hurt yelp near the edge of the lake. Harry felt the cold without realizing what it must mean. The yelping stopped abruptly. Reaching the lakeshore, he saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head. "Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo… please…"

And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He pointed his wand out, shouting the Patronus spell. Only thinking of Sirius' innocence, leaving the Dursley, having a home, a family, of his own. A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him.

He tried. He was trying. But Harry couldn't quite blot the screaming from his ears, the fog clouding his eyes, the strength to keep his knees off the wet grass. The Dementors edged closer to him, revealing their disgusting gray scabbed skin, empty socket that lets you look into the abyss. Its mouth sucked the air like the sound of a death rattle. A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn't move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.

"Expecto patronum— expecto— patronum—" he tried again and again, but all he felt was cold, cold, cold... Harry wanted to reach for Sirius... but the fog was blinding him. He couldn't see him. He was alone. Harry was alone. He'll always be alone.

The screaming was there again. Harry thought this was how it always should have ended. Him dying with his mom being the last thing he heard.

A pair of strong arms pulled him back. The swish of black robe shielding him before a strong, baritone voice calling out a spell. "Expecto Patronum!"

Silvery light began to glow, brighter and brighter… the cold air ebbed away… Harry had no strength left and was about to fall forward… his glasses fell out of his face... but the grip of the stranger's arm tightened until he rested his head on his front. The strong beating of their heart somehow managed to clot away the screaming into a faraway echo. But he was so out of it, he didn't know if he was dreaming or not.

Looking upfront, Harry could make out two illuminating figures, shaped like some sort of animal, galloping. Circling above the lake together in an elaborate dance. With the last ounce of his strength, he looked up to find out his benefactor. Face blurred and shadowed, but the light gave the kind of warmth that reminded him of another memory, tucked in the recess of his mind. Filled with laughter and smiles that made him feel nothing but loved and safe.

"Da… dad..." But Harry lost consciousness not long after and knew no more.

. . .

"...what an impossible story. To think Black was innocent all along… And for Pettigrew to be an unregistered Animagus… no wonder our Aurors never suspected his 'death.' Though I'm not surprised a follower from You-Know-Who would disregard the law like that. And so he escaped, you say?"

"Yes." Snape's clipped answer was so distinctive, even half awake Harry could tell it was him.

"And I heard Harry Potter managed to unfold the truth? Marvelous! As expected of our Boy-Who-Lived."

"And his two friends; Granger and Weasley. While they've done a service to uncover a decade-old truth obscure by the previous minister's incompetent trials that imprison a doubtly innocent man. I'm afraid those three had been given an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster. To the point they've had a high enough opinion of themselves to face a suspected convict by themselves."

"Ah… well… Harry Potter, you know… we all have a bit of a blind spot when he's concerned."

"Indeed, Minister—" Oh wow, Snape is not just mad. He's MAD. That's his signature you're-an-irrevocable-buffoon-but-I-cannot-shout-at-you-because-reasons' hissing. The man then started listing off reasons for his suspension and Harry can't help but think what a Snape-thing to do. Harry listened groggily as he laid on the bed. Hearing the Minster and Snape go back and forth. Recounting how the event happened including the mysterious light that drove the Dementors away.

His brain started to move faster and began opening his eyes. Everything was blurry and dark but he could still make out Madam Pomfrey. Her back to him, bending over a bed he figured was Ron's. He turned to his right and found Hermione, sitting on the chair by his side, then to his left. Harry practically jumped on his bed seeing Sirius lying peacefully next to him.

"SIRIUS!" He shouted, but the ex-convict showed no reaction. Harry became more worried and would have flung himself at his godfather, begging him to open his eyes, if not for Madam Pomfrey. She hauled him back, telling him to calm down while he's still weak. Harry can't calm down though. He can't because Sirius is there, he's hurt, and he's not waking up!

"Potter!"

He froze then mentally cursed at himself. The strict sound of his name still hasn't failed to make him wince. Harry took one look at Snape's disappointed frown before looking away like a kid caught in trouble. He failed to notice the Minister's uncomfortably anxious concern from someone he only met once before the start of the term.

Hermione then asked about Ron's wellbeing and that managed to divert Harry's attention to his best friend. Thankfully, he's no less fine than them and would be up on his feet after a good night's rest to get his leg all healed up.

"What's gonna happen to Sirius? And Pettigrew? Has anyone found him yet?"

"Do not worry, Harry." To the surprise of everyone, it was Dumbledore who answered, arriving in the wing with notable timing. "Pettigrew shall be hunted by the most talented class of wizards within the Aurors division. They may not catch him sooner. But they may do so, one day. As for Sirius, there'll be a long due process that should have been done from the start, but I'll personally do my best to make him a free man."

Snape scoffed before glaring at the Headmaster, and Dumbledore gave him a stern side-eyed look. There was an underlying discussion between them no one else seemed to grasp what about.

"My apologies, Poppy, Cornelius, Severus. Would you all kindly allow me some privacy with Mister Potter, Mister Weasley, and Miss Granger?"

Madam Pomfrey did not like his dismissal from her own workspace and interrupting their rest. But Dumbledore insisted she leave so she conveyed her displeasure by the hard slamming of the door. Cornelius looked pained from his reluctance to leave but did so in the end. Which left only Snape, who hadn't moved.

Dumbledore sighed, "Severus—"

"You can't honestly expect me to stay silent after everything."

"My decision is final on this."

Severus took a step toward Dumbledore, his patience was on the edge. "With all due respect, Headmaster. His life isn't a pawn for you to use. Pettigrew is a vile being who will kill anyone for his insignificant life. I hope you bear that in mind."

"I'm taking that into consideration."

Snape just glared that much harder, which is his default reaction for pretty much anything so Harry couldn't tell much from that. He swivelled back, black robe swishing before leaving the room to the four occupants present.

"I beg you not to interrupt me because there is very little time." Dumbledore's tone turned grave, "Harry, though I said I will do anything to defend Sirius, there is personally little I can do to prove his story."

The Professors' words were like a punch in the gut and Harry staggered, "What? But, but why?"

"The Ministry is not so kind to take the word of three 13-year-old wizards after a street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"But it's the truth— ask Professor Lupin or Snape!"

"Unfortunately because of private reasons, Severus will not be able to stand on trial defending Sirius in this case. And werewolves are so mistrusted by our kind that his support will count for very little. Not to mention that he and Sirius are old friends—"

"BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Harry shouted.

Hermione smacked his arm, "Don't be rude, Harry. The Headmaster is doing his best." She then turned her question to him, "But Professor, can't the ministry use the Veritaserum to draw the truth from us?"

"A bright idea as always, Miss Granger. But testimonies under the influence of truth serum can be explained away if someone argues you were under a Confundus charm that makes you believe in false facts. Added with Sirius' questionable actions — the attack on the Fat Lady, entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — doesn't help shed him into an innocent man. Even if they accept your statements, people in power fearing Sirius taking his place as the Last Black shall do anything to postpone the trial for months to come until there's concrete evidence to support the notion."

"But, but can't you do something? Anything?" Harry was desperate.

Dumbledore shook his head with a grave face, "I have no power to overrule the Ministry of Magic, whatever their decision may be. Without Pettigrew, alive or dead, there is little chance of overturning Sirius's sentence any time soon."

At the idea that not even the Headmaster was at loss, Harry felt as though the ground were crumbling beneath him. The night isn't over and still, the universe hasn't stopped rocking his world. It gave him the glimpse of a chance of a real family and that dream dashed before it even began. Harry couldn't quite believe that not even Dumbledore can help. He got too used to the man coming up with convoluted solutions but no… their last hope is gone.

"So that's it then?" Ron finally voiced out for the first time, he sounded indignant, "You came to tell us there's no hope for Sirius? What, what are we supposed to do with that? Go back in time and give Sirius a fair trial the first go around?"

Dumbledore's light blue eyes brightened, his lips curling up slightly, "I believe you don't need to go that far." He turned his attention to Hermione with a knowing look.

The witch took a second to connect the dots.

Harry had a feeling he missed something. But it should be fair to say receiving a time-travelling device just to study more is honestly a ridiculous concept to begin with. He never imagined he and Hermione would be using it to capture a loose murderer.

Wizarding life is so bonkers.

Lest to say, travelling through time is a trippy experience. Seeing yourself doing what you've done, the laws and rules to keep in mind just so you don't make things worse, the waiting. The waiting is the worst. Especially when you're forced to watch it happen without doing anything to stop it.

But by far one of the worst is waiting for help as he looks over his younger self, surrounded by Dementors, from across the lake.

Because he hoped, hoped, that he'll come. That he wasn't hallucinating. But still… there was no sign of his father anywhere. There was no one to save him. Disappointment tightened his chest as he watched the Dementors closing in on both him and his godfather.

There was no one to save him.

So he'll have to save himself.

He pulled out his wand, pointed at the flock of deathly wraiths, and cried, "EXPECTO—"

"HARRY!" he heard Hermione cry in distress.

He turned and part of him wasn't surprised to find Circe had her hand circled his best friend's throat. Her right side vacant of any limb, still dripping like a recently severed arm. As if it had only been seconds before that he cut off Circe's arm and not a year ago.

"If I can't kill you, boy…" she hissed while tightening her grip, making Hermione whimper, "...at the very least I'll make it easy for that immortal-wannabee to off you later."

Before Harry could say anything to deescalate the situation or think of a spell to hit her, there was a cheerful cry of "VIBE CHECK!" At the same time, Percy came swinging and knocked her to the side. Harry half-noticed he'd used the rope spell for his swing and wanted to ask why he couldn't use it to tie her up instead.

He locked eyes with Percy and immediately understood what Harry needed to do. Facing back to the Lake, he shouted with all his might, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" without a moment of hesitation, and out came the dazzling silver Patronus. It appeared before him, in the form of a stag. Harry wanted to cry when he realized what 'Prongs' meant, it made him feel like he conjured his father out.

But what shocked him the most was the emergence of a doe figure appearing at the same time. The two Patronus galloped elegantly around his past self and Sirius.

Mesmerized by the sight of the two glowing animals that acted like long-lost friends who found each other, Harry failed to catch sight of whoever summoned the Patronus, warding off the Dementors until they were out of sight. For some reason, seeing the Patronus made his chest feel tight and eyes watered as though falling to his parents' embrace, welcoming him home.

Harry wiped his eyes and turned around to check on Hermione, she had her wand out. A spell at the tip of her tongue, he bet. She and Percy aimed their wands at Circe, looking no less murderous at them.

"Come to fail again, Circe?" He mocked.

The Witch didn't bother to even monologue this time before she disappeared with a swing of her summoned staff.

Percy squawked indignantly, "Oh, come on!" And was about to leave—

"Percy!" Harry called out, "Aren't you supposed to be fighting off Lupin right now?!"

He froze, turning back to him in confusion, "I am?"

Hermione had sifted beside him at some point and nodded. "You fought Professor Lupin off in his werewolf form when Sirius chased after Pettigrew."

Percy looked intently between us before he slapped his forehead, "Di immortales, time-traveling is such a pain in the arse," he grumbled before running off into the shadows and out of sight, "Are you guys good without me or would you like some help?"

"Is that okay?"

He smirked, "Please, I got all the time in the world."

Together they rode Buckbeak and flew in the sky, "Of course," he heard Hermione say, "The Time-Turner! That's how you managed to look the same after all these years and know exactly when to save Harry."

"Says who? I might just be good at staying this good-looking, you know?" He grinned, but with obvious jest.

"How long have you been time-traveling? Was it…" since the war? Harry wanted to ask but felt reluctant to finish.

"Depends. In one way, I've been time-traveling since my first year in Hogwarts, in another, I've been jumping time since the war started."

'Since his first year in— what?' Harry felt even more confused talking with Percy. Is it so hard to get a straight answer from him?

"And no, you can't get a straight answer for me," he laughed, not sorry for knowing what's on his mind, "Cons of being a time-traveler, you can't say anything connected to yourself 'less risk causing a paradox."

"But, then why are you even here? Aren't you trying to change the timeline?" Hermione asked, not being able to hide her suspicion.

"Girl, I'm time-traveling to preserve the timeline. Change is inevitable. So note to you both, if any of you work for the ministry in the future, up the security. I would prefer you destroy all the Time-Turners, but that's impossible."

"Why's that?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Because the Time-Turner isn't created to mess with time for schist and giggles, it's made to regulate the already existing Time Sand the ministry had on hand. Without them, there'd be more cases of 'spirited away' or 'disappearance' by muggles when in actuality they've been displaced in time."

'So Time Sand is sort of like a natural magical resource that can accidentally move you through time. Good to know.'

"So, do you guys have any idea how to locate Pettigrew?"

The two kids shook their heads, and Percy couldn't help but sigh before pulling out his wand once more, "Typical. Innevio Peter Pettigrew."

"What's that?"

"A tracking spell. The string light should help lead us to him but we have to hurry. This spell doesn't last long."

"There's no such thing as Tracking Spell," Hermione denied petulantly, "I would have read it."

"Of course you haven't read it, it's Snape Brand. He's stingy with his own magic spells."

Harry asked politely for Buckbeak to follow the light and did swiftly. He felt the familiar drop in his gut as they closed into the forest. Harry cried Lumos to light up his surroundings and spotted the scurrying brown rat below.

"Hey, Buckbeak, right?" He heard Percy ask. The Hippogriff squawked gruffly, "Yeah, I know you have no obligation for me whatsoever. But can you do us a favour and grab that pesky rat over there."

Buckbeak screeched.

"No, you're not allowed to eat him. He doesn't taste good anyway. I'll owe you a bag of roadkills instead, deal?"

"You can talk to a Hippogriff?" Hermione gawked.

"Err… no… kind of? It's less of knowing their words and more getting a feel of what they're saying."

Before they could say anything further, Buckbeak swooped down and caught the rat in his claws. Pettigrew shifted back into a man, but that effort didn't stop him from getting captured. Harry found a sort of morbid glee hearing the panic cry of the degenerate man being manhandled? Beasthandled? Either way, Harry is not opposed to making him suffer a bit before being sent to Azkaban.

The traitor was then thrown near the Hogwarts entrance. The three teens landed before they all had their wands out pointing at the captured criminal.

"It's the end of the line, Peter. Give up!"

"No, no, please, please. Don't send me there. Not Azkaban. PLEASE!" The poor man wept to no one's ear.

"You should have thought of that before you got Lily and James killed, bastard." Percy snarled. "Harry, would you like to do the honor?"

Yes. Harry would like to personally tie up the rat before sending him to the Minister. But a thought kept niggling at the back of his head. "I want answers first," he finally confessed. "Pettigrew, you're going to prison either way. No amount of begging will change that but I need to know one thing…" Harry bit his lips, the question burning him before voicing it, "Did you regret it?"

Pettigrew looked up in shock, "What?"

"After all this time, seven years with my father, Sirius, and Lupin, did you ever live your life regretting turning your back on your best friends? Have you regretted hurting them after everything they did for you… after all the time you spent together… did you?"

For a moment, Pettigrew grew speechless. Looking up, agawk, at Harry. Too long did they wait that the boy thought it was a futile question in the end.

But then, there was a sniffle. Harry thought the rat was going to cry his way out but the sound of an amused snort was next before he watched the fat man begin laughing like he had watched the funniest sitcom bit. His head tilted back and was holding onto his flap belly.

Harry grew furious at the scene but then he spotted the sniffles and tears as well. Though he laughed, Pettigrew looked pained instead of amused. The sight was so disconcerting, the three kids couldn't help leaning back.

"Answers? I suppose for you, Harry, you earn some." Pettigrew said, the first Harry heard him say something coherent without being a blubbering mess. "I threw away regret a long time ago along with my so-called 'friends' when I took an oath. His Oath. The Dark Lord."

"Why?" Hermione asked for Harry's thoughts.

"Why?" Pettigrew was tearing up frustratingly when it was Harry who wanted to cry the most, "Why? Why? WHY?! That's what I've been asking all this time. Don't you see Harry?" The man had crawled near to his feet and would have held onto him if Harry hadn't stepped back. "They— you— you don't get it— how the world works. How could you? None of you care to see the big picture. Not Sirius. Not Remus. They can't see I'm doing this for their own good."

"I see Dad wasn't part of your concern."

"It was necessary," he hissed, "There are sacrifices in every war. For change, for freedom, for our rights. To not hide away our wands or skitter in hovels. Fearing the slightest use of magic would invite muggle's scorn or the minister's retribution for every day of our lives. Always, always, always reminding myself to look twice before using magic and I'm tired of being afraid," Peter whined between hiccups, snots disgustingly running down his nose. "We've sacrificed enough in the past, we should be free to own the sky — we're owed that right! Yet we hid ourselves right under the muggles' noses and for what? Peace? HA! — We live a life of lies and expect to accept that as right. What we have isn't peace, what we have is imprisonment!" Pettigrew spat.

Harry held himself in place, trying to mask the first feeling he had for this man that wasn't hate or disgust — but fear. The small man's face contorted into such a fury that he started to look dangerous.

"You lost that right long ago, Peter." Harry heard Percy say his piece. "You and your little nazi groupies shouldn't have pointed your wand at innocent muggles. That's not a call for freedom, that's revenge."

Pettigrew shook his head, "After all this time, you're still Dumbledore's little pet dog, following him without question. Don't you see that there's no such thing as good or evil in this world? What matters is power—"

"Shut up!" Hermione took a step forward, forgetting her wand, and decked his face once, hard enough to make him fall unconscious.

Harry and Percy gawked.

"Sorry," she panted, "Couldn't stop myself. His drivel was even worse than Malfoy."

Did Harry mention Hermione is the coolest friend ever? Because she is. Hands down. No question about it.

Once they hauled the unconscious body on Buckbeak. Harry and Hermione followed, but Percy kept still.

"Come on, Percy."

He declined with the shake of his head, "No thanks, I think my part here is done. Besides, I don't think Buckbeak can survive with 4 people on his back."

Harry saw his point, but he still needed to tap down the disappointment of parting with Percy so soon. He breathed a steady breath in, "I'll see ya later, mate."

Percy smiled, "You betcha, Harry."

They flew into the sky. From high above, Harry could see the Minister of Magic and Snape walking out from the entrance with a couple of Aurora. Seeing they have no time before Cornelius might apparate away, Hermione had the bright idea to soften the ground with a spell before unceremoniously pushed Pettigrew down. Harry didn't need to imagine the shock-look they both must have after a traitor rained down from the sky. Quickly, they flew up and away before they might catch a glimpse of them.

They released Buckbeak to the wild on one of the balconies before running down the halls, just in time to reach the Headmaster closing the Hospital Wing. He looked not at all surprised by their appearance and greeted them like any other time.

Harry knew he liked Dumbledore for a reason.

. . .

"Is it true?" Harry asked as soon as he burst into Lupin's office. "Are you resigning? That's not true, isn't it?"

"It is actually," said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

"Why?" Harry asked, not understanding this sudden decision. "You're the best defence teacher we've ever had."

Lupin made his way to the door and closed it behind Harry

"I'm afraid last night I had crossed a line. Severus gave me an ultimatum this morning, either I resign myself from the school or he'll make it known to everyone that I'm a werewolf."

"He can't do that!"

"Unfortunately, he can. Severus was not happy about me forgetting to take my potion. My brief neglect almost endangered our students, and he can't allow a repeat in the school grounds."

"But— But that wasn't your fault— no one can expect to think straight in that situation!"

"And normally I agree with you. However, that's only the tip of the iceberg. You see, Severus made his points clear in the Shrieking Shack, and... he was right. I have both betrayed his and Dumbledore's trust during my time here by withholding information. That is already ground for criminal carelessness. I was so concerned about myself, I didn't stop to think how much my negligence got you hurt until it's too late."

"Sirius is innocent! Snape can't begrudge you for that."

"We didn't know that when he snuck to the Tower with a knife in hand. Even if he was aiming for Peter, he could have hurt someone as he did with Mister Weasley that night. My decision making… was unsatisfactory for him so he let me choose how I'll go out. Quitting on my own terms or waiting for the owls from worried parents, demanding the resignation of a werewolf."

Harry tried to think of good arguments to make him stay, but Lupin then handed Harry back the Invisibility Cloak as well as holding out the Marauder's Map too. "Which means I won't feel guilty giving this back to you. I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione would have more use to it than me."

Harry accepted the cloak and the map with a smile. "Where will you be going now, Professor?"

"Please, call me Remus. I'm no longer your teacher. And as for where I'm going… Sirius is going to have difficulties readjusting once he's cleared of any charges. I plan to stay by his side for however long he needs me. I'm sure he can't wait to invite you to his home afterward. We all have much to discuss."

Harry smiled even wider, "You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, my dad and his friends would've wanted to lure me out of school... you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," Lupin confirmed. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

The conversation was cut short by Dumbledore's knock on the door, who came to inform Remus that his carriage awaited him. The werewolf gave one last smile before he hastily got out of his office. Possibly trying to cut this process short, giving little time for the man to dwell on possibly the longest and most enjoyable job he had ever held before being overcome with emotions. If there was one thing Remus learned quickly in life, it's to move on quickly before the regret held a twisted hold in his gut.

Watching Remus leave, Harry couldn't help ponder in regret at what he could have done to help the man but found nothing he'd do would change the root cause of it all. "I hate Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore chided gently, "It's no good to hang up on things like Severus did. The man did help defend you after all."

"Doesn't excuse him for what he did to Remus."

"Nor did it excuse what Remus did to you." Harry looked to Dumbledore like he couldn't understand what he was saying. "The man hid many things from us which he was too scared to share. His insecurity allowed Sirius to terrorize the whole school. Actions have repercussions, Harry, no matter how innocent the intention may be. Remember that a good man isn't one without faults, but the ones who take steps upon himself to acknowledge and learn from their mistakes."

"Then… is… is Pettigrew far from a good man?"

Dumbledore didn't seem to expect that sort of response. "I don't think he's the kind of person you would consider otherwise."

There was an unasked question in his tone, and Harry let the dam break as he shared the disturbing mindset of one Peter Pettigrew before he had turned him to the authorities on that night.

"I don't think he's right or justified what he did, but…" I get it. Harry has been living under the Dursley's roof after all. He may not know he had magic during his time with them but was constantly afraid of doing wrong that he had to live his life keeping his head down. It was a suffocating life that Harry wouldn't wish upon anyone.

To sympathize with a bad man… does that make Harry… bad?

"The Wizarding World isn't perfect by any means, but we all deal with the cards on our hands as best as we can. There's nothing wrong with wanting a better life, Harry… but know this... Peter Pettigrew could have either shown remorse or spread more lies to gain sympathy. Sirius was certainly nowhere at the time to testify against him. Instead, he wasted 12 years as a common rat. I believe Peter was both ashamed of his action and afraid for his fate, that's enough reason to define what kind of man he is."

Fate... The word jolted a memory in Harry. "Professor… there's something else I need to tell you." And he told the Headmaster the strange divination he received from Professor Trelawney. About Pettigrew breaking free from a chain of lies and returning to his master.

"I'm not surprised she's wrong. I mean, she always is. And yet…" Why do I feel uneasy? Harry examined Dumbledore's reaction, and couldn't tell what he was thinking. His silence fell more ominous than any prophecy Harry could have heard.

"Professor?"

"I have learned many things in my long life, Harry. Many harsh lessons. One of them happens to know we can choose our destiny, but we cannot stop being entangled from others forming their own."

And he later left the office with those words, confusing Harry. Those words lingered in his head until lunch came and he spotted Snape sitting among the staff at the High Table. The absent chair was all the more conspicuous after the sudden resignation of a certain teacher. The students gossiped around the reason for Lupin's sudden resignation, which made Harry all the more angrier at the black-robed man.

So he didn't feel much guilt barging into his office the moment both of them had time. "How could you?! Professor Lupin is the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had and you made him quit his job!"

"Greetings to you too, Potter. If your business isn't related to Potions or any other school subjects, I suggest you leave."

"You can't even spare your 'precious' time to testify for Sirius!" Harry fumed, "Do you hate them so much because of a petty grudge that you can't even do something decent for once in your life!"

"Don't assume my reasons for not coming forward for the mutt's trial because it is none of your business, Potter. Also, 10 points for being disrespectful to your Professor and detention on Thursday."

Harry grounded his teeth. He knew nothing he said could sway the cold-hearted man so he turned around and trudged out of his office.

"Don't forget to bring your parchment then. You'll need it once you decipher the recipe for your mother's Wolf Cure Potion."

Harry froze with his hand stilled on the doorknob. His brains lagging from the words he half caught from his least favourite Professor.

"I'm sorry, what did you—"

"The ingredients in your mother's potion have the main elements that you'd expect from a Wolfsbane potion. But considering it's when wolfsbane was still in research, it isn't farfetched to assume she sought to cure lycanthropy altogether."

Harry felt like some other force in work had a hold of him, otherwise, he can't imagine why he's not walking away instead of listening to his drabble about a potion he's been trying to figure out all year and he's… just… giving it to him.

Harry hated him so much.

"I'm assuming it won't be an easy potion to make?"

"I can count on one hand the Potion Masters capable of concocting the Wolfsbane Potion without getting themselves killed in the process, much less a better version of it." Meaning, without his help, Harry could only dream of completing his mother's potion.

Harry turned around, and just because he wanted to have the last word as well as being a little shit, he said, "You know, Professor. You only need to ask if you miss my dashing presence in your humbly, dreary office so much."

Snape gave an ugly sneer. Harry felt a bit satisfied knowing he could still get a rise out of the man. "Get out, Potter."

"As you wish, Sir."

But Harry stopped by the door, hands on the knob before daring himself to ask, "Is it true what Pettigrew said… that you were a Death Eater once?"

The office fell quiet by his non-answer. In hindsight, that was an answer in itself.

"Did- did you regret it?"

No answer came. Harry should have expected this, but he was still disappointed. He was out and halfway closing the door.

"Always." Harry heard, so soft that he didn't know whether he had misheard it or if Snape unintentionally slipped out. The word was thrown as the door closed, and Harry was forced to mull about the answer himself.

The next day, an uproar came from the morning paper. Harry had come into the Great Hall, unsettled by the rarely robust day this early. The students were clumped together in groups while hunching on similar readings. He then spotted Hermione, who looked guilty and Harry couldn't fathom why she would feel so.

Wordlessly, she slid the wizard newspaper to him, and he only needed a glance to have the air knocked out of his chest.

BREAKOUT IN AZKABAN: MIDNIGHT MASS ESCAPEES

. . .

By the time Harry arrived at Platform 9 ¾, he braced himself for another summer with the Dursley. However, he was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with Sirius first. Harry didn't think twice before running straight and practically tackled him into a desperate hug.

Sirius laughed, delighted as he ruffled his already unruly hair. "Miss you too, kiddo."

"You're here. You're... when… how…"

"What do you mean how— I'm a free man, remember? Though sorry I hadn't had the chance to owl you, the paperwork for my trial has been a pain in my arse." He said that but Harry noticed the bags under his eyes. He didn't know the details but Harry's aware that Sirius had been furious at the mass breakout that let Peter Pettigrew and all the other Death Eaters escape. He remembered one of the letters Remus sent that shared his grievance of holding back the animagi wizard from running to catch the little traitor before disappearing to who knows where for who knows when.

"Where's Remus? Shouldn't he be with you?"

Sirius was suspiciously silent, avoiding his gaze with a strained smile.

"You snuck out, didn't you?"

"He's hovering, Harry! I do not need him to nag me for another check-up to know whether I'm clinically insane or not."

Harry laughed then found himself being wrapped up into a tight hug of his own. The warmth reminded him of the first sip of butterbeer.

"Sirius?"

"I didn't get to say this but I'm sorry for leaving you, Harry, for letting you down all these years. I'm so sorry." Sirius buried his face in his hair. The sincerity pulled something in Harry's chest that he had to hide his face 'less he showed something as pathetic as crying. Especially not when he's happy.

"It's alright."

"No, it's not." Sirius stepped back, giving each other space but kept a reassuring hold of his head.

"I was so focused on getting revenge on Peter that I forgot about you. Anger and grief clouded my judgement that not once did I think of the impacts my choices put you through. You deserve better, Harry."

Harry vehemently shook his head even as tears threatened to break, "But you didn't forget me; you were there during one of the Quidditch matches and all those times you scared the hell out of me, remember?"

He smirked, amused, "I did. It's why I sent you the Firebolt when you needed a new broom. Thought it'd be a good present for missing 13 birthdays."

Harry, if possible, grinned even brighter. "Hermione figured that was the case. She's going to be so smug about it."

"Bright girl, your friend is. You were spectacular on the broom by the way. Your father would be jumping in joy like a mad man if he could see you… but he'll mostly be proud of you for being the person you've become."

Their conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. They stayed there, looking at each other's gaze as though having a hard time believing they're here.

"So…" Harry sniffed, "was that all?"

"Oh, right, almost forgot, I came to give you this." Sirius rummaged his robe and gave him a wrinkled yet familiar parchment.

Harry's eyes widened, "Is that…"

"Your Hogsmeade Permission Slip. Can't have my godson miss all the fun adventures there with his friends, that would be a cruel and unusual punishment. Should be safe since you don't have a felon targeting you or anything."

"Don't jinx it. Literally."

Sirius barked out a delighted laugh. "Oooh, so you're a smart mouth, are you?"

Harry laughed alongside him, but that was cut short when he found Uncle Vernon coming over to him. His good mood died a little at the sight.

"What the hell are you doing? Who are you?" His uncle demanded answers from Sirius.

Suddenly an idea popped in Harry's head and he cut in before his godfather could answer, "Hello Uncle, this is Sirius Black. I'm sure you recognized him from the news. He is mum and dad's best friend and a convicted murderer who got out from wizard prison."

He watched in silent glee at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face. Sirius must have caught what he's planning because he matches his grin, "Now Harry, it's no good to lie to your uncle like that." His uncle's shoulder sagged. "I'm an EX-convict, remember? My charges were dropped since I failed to kill anyone in the end."

Harry and Sirius shared a conspiring grin.

Uncle Vernon looked halfway from fainting. He didn't hide his flinch as Sirius grabbed the bigger man's shoulder and forcefully shook his thick hands. "Nice to meet you good fellow, I'm Harry's godfather, err, what's your name? I don't think I've caught it."

"Ve… Vernon."

"Vernon, yes! Now I remember, we haven't met but I distinctly remember you from Lily's wedding. It's a shame you and your wife didn't stay long." His grin barred his canine tooth, making him look menacing. "Thank you for taking care of Harry. Now that I'm a free man, I like to keep in touch with him as much as possible… to tell him all about his parents… and see if he's happy and all that other stuff…"

From the rapid nod of his Uncle, Harry figured he was looking forward to a better summer than the last. Later on, Sirius would pull him for one last goodbye hug before whispering, "You are truly your father's son."

---

AN: DOOOOOOONNEEEEEEE!

I have to admit, writing this epilogue was one of my favorite things for Act III. Especially Snape and Harry's growing relationship because God they are stubborn pair of asses. Harry, please, lower your attitude. And for Merlin's sake Snape just admit you care for the boy and stop living in denial! But damn does it make a saucy drama. The fact Harry had blackmailed Snape from telling everyone he is secretly a nice person always cracks me up inside. You know if JKR wanted an actual Grey Character that we can like, she should have learned that from Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows (But then again it wasn't published yet anyway. and yes, I did watch Shadow and Bones and no surprise that the Crows steal the show).

I also feel a bit proud for the Shrieking Shack scene because it was my chance to finally rant about Remus! Because when I reread the book for the epilogue, I was horribly angry at the Defense Teacher for not only downplaying Sirius' prank of almost killing a Snape but actually subtly scape-goating him too. "He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think." SO fucking what if Snape was jealous of James, that doesn't have anything to do with the topic at hand. The fact Remus said that and putting Snape in a bad light was pure victim-blaming in order to defend Sirius' past actions.

Was Snape an ass in the book? Absolutely, yes. Movie!Snape was actually more decent than him. But that doesn't mean Snape is allowed to be victim-blamed for the same reason Sirius shouldn't be accused based on bogus testimony from Snape.

The worst part is? Remus succeeded. Prooved when Harry then said this to Snape; "You're pathetic! Just because they made a fool of you at school..."

Excuse you, Harry? Tricking a classmate to meet a werewolf and risk getting killed or turn into one isn't "making a fool" out of him, you donut.

And I'm so annoyed because I genuinely love Remus as a character. So writing this epilogue and actually comprehending the scene written felt like his character has been done injustice even though it's decades since it's made so I had rectified it because you know what? Fuck canon, this is already AU anyway. Viva la time travel.

It's been long, exhausting, but fruitful journey of Act II. There's been ups and downs but I couldn't have keep up with my writing if not for all your support and kind words you guys put in every single chapter. I feel so grateful and blessed to have you guys stick around for my story. There's nothing that makes a writer happier than avid readers so thank you very much for each and every single one of you. I love you guys!

Sadly, I'm not feeling well today so I won't be able to respond to your reviews and comments even though I was looking forward to it too! Truly!

Tune in next time for ACT IV: PERCY JACKSON AND THE BLACK WAND

Minor Spoiler: Every magic school we know will come out to play... hehehehe