Seven Drops and Asphodel Blooms
Summary: When Harry blows up his aunt during the summer, Dumbledore is much quicker to react. Snape finds him far before the Minister does, but his plan of dropping him off with a lecture and half a dozen additional summer assignments doesn't work out.
In which Harry spends the summer at Spinner's End.
Chapter 14
Harry woke up to the depressingly familiar sight of the hospital wing. He dozed, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember what trouble he'd gotten dragged into this time. Had there been another Quidditch accident? Had one of Hagrid's creatures gone rogue? Had he had another run-in with the dement–
Harry jerked upright. Professor McGonagall startled so badly, she bumped into the hospital bed that held an unconscious Hermione.
"Professor, what happened? Where's Black? And Professor Snape? And–"
"Potter– Harry. Calm yourself." She looked very pale.
Harry propped himself up against his pillow, impatient for answers. "Please, Professor. What happened? The last thing I remember is the dementors."
"Yes. Them." McGonagall pinched her lips into a narrow line. "You managed to hold them off long enough for help to arrive, thank Merlin. Severus was barely conscious. He explained to us what had happened."
Fear gripped Harry so tightly, he struggled for air. "What did he tell you?"
His sharp tone made McGonagall pause. "Why, he informed us of Bla– of Mr. Black's innocence."
Harry sagged into his pillows. He immediately felt guilty for doubting that Snape would tell the truth. "Where is he? Him and Pettigrew?"
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Pettigrew will be confined until a Ministry official arrives for questioning. Mr. Black is... isolated."
Harry nodded along. Already exhaustion was tugging at his eyelids. He wanted nothing more than to lean back and sleep until everything had been sorted out. "What about Snape?"
McGonagall's lips curled. "Severus has refused to be admitted to the hospital wing."
She looked so irritated that Harry didn't dare ask a follow-up question.
He swallowed around a lump in his throat as he looked at his friends' motionless forms. "Are they going to be alright?" If he'd just managed to conjure up his Patronus sooner... If he'd made Snape continue his lessons, regardless of their argument...
"They're alright." McGonagall gave him a small smile. "Madam Pomfrey has looked them over. They'll be just fine once they've woken up."
"Okay. Good." He hesitated. "Do you need me to tell you what happened?"
"Eventually, yes." Something in McGonagall's eyes shifted. "Though as Severus' story corresponds with Mr. Black's, and Mr. Black was willing to prove his statement under the influence of Veritaserum, it can wait a little longer."
Harry nodded, relieved. It felt strange not to be alone in the end-of-term spotlight for once. Strange, but not unpleasant. "Can I talk to him?"
"Who? Severus?"
The thought made Harry's stomach cramp. "Actually, I hoped I could talk to Bl– Sirius. Now that we know he hasn't done any of the things he was accused of."
He made a conscious effort to use his first name. Black was a convicted murderer who was after Harry's life. Sirius was a stranger, but one Harry didn't think he was opposed to getting to know.
"I certainly understand the desire." She pressed together her lips. "I presume the headmaster will want to talk to him. Afterwards, if his claims have been proven correct without doubt, I see no reason you should be denied your request."
On the bed next to Harry, Hermione let out a strangled sound. "H'rry?" she mumbled through a face-full of hair. "Wh'appened?"
McGonagall cleared her throat. "Should I send over Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, uh. It's fine, Professor. I can tell Hermione what happened."
McGonagall left, leaving him to bring Hermione up to date in private. Even in the brief time it took him to fill the gaps in the story, Hermione seemed distracted. Her eyes kept drifting off as though her thoughts were far away.
"Are you okay?"
"What? Oh..." Hermione looked down at her hands. She was kneading them almost obsessively. "The dementors... They never made me feel this bad before."
Harry said nothing. He felt just fine – tired, but otherwise okay – but he supposed that none of the others had been exposed to them quite as often as he had over the course of the school year.
"Did they make you see anything?" Harry asked, curious even though he knew he probably shouldn't be.
Outside, the full moon filled up a now cloudless sky. Harry wondered where Lupin was. Had he stayed in the Shack, or was he roaming the school grounds, transformed?
"It's not the same as with a boggart," Hermione explained quietly. "I didn't see anything that scared me. But I... What I felt..."
"You already know what happens to me when they come near. Compared to that..." Harry trailed off, realizing what that sounded like. He scooted backwards to sit up higher. "I mean, it's okay. I know what it's like."
Hermione chewed on her lip. Dark bags were painted underneath her eyes even though she'd slept until now – though then again, she'd had those for most of the school year.
"I just," Hermione began, her voice shaky. "When they came near, I felt... like everybody I knew wouldn't talk to me. Like they all… h-hated me and… and I was… all alone…" She broke off in what Harry told himself was just a strangled sounding shudder.
He wondered why the dementors would make her feel something like that. What Harry felt was based on a memory – something that had actually happened in his life. Hermione couldn't really think something like that would happen. Right?
She and Ron had been arguing on and off the entire school year, but that was just what they were like. She couldn't really think that it meant anything. That was just the dementors, inflating something unimportant until it felt world-ending.
"You know that's stupid," he said, fidgeting with his blanket. "Right?"
Hermione looked up. Her eyes were dry, thank Merlin – Harry wouldn't have known what to do, had she started crying. "There's something I need to tell you. About this school year, and my classes–"
But Ron finally stirred and distracted them both from whatever she'd been about to say.
Considering Ron had rediscovered his thought-dead house rat, had his leg broken by a (falsely accused) murderer and found out about Scabbers having been an adult wizard all on the same day, he was doing admirably well.
He answered the news of Pettigrew being in custody and Black – Sirius – awaiting his name being cleared with a faint "Oh, neat," then fell silent and left Harry and Hermione to strike up an uneasy conversation.
All of them still felt the traces of despair the dementors had left behind, and they listened hard whenever they heard movement outside of the hospital wing, hoping – or fearing – it would be somebody bearing news.
Ron needed to stay the night because of his leg, so – not wanting to be separated – Harry and Hermione made an effort to look as pathetic as possible when Madam Pomfrey came to check up on them. She – though unimpressed – didn't try especially hard to make them leave.
A Ministry official came to school the next day. She made them tell their story over and over, took Pettigrew into custody and tried to take Sirius as well, but was forced to admit defeat at Dumbledore's firm refusal. She left in a huff, carrying Pettigrew's cage. Harry had no doubt that if she'd gotten her way, she'd have thrown Sirius right back into a cell of his own, no questions asked.
Dumbledore at least must have been convinced of his innocence. Because when Harry snuck out of the hospital wing and to the room they were keeping Sirius, there was nobody standing guard to stop him.
Harry hovered in front of the door, undecided. But backing out now would feel like cowardice. He knocked and slipped inside before he could change his mind.
"Harry," Sirius said, surprise and relief both ringing in his hoarse voice.
He looked a bit better than the day before. Somebody had given him clothes other than his tattered prison rags, and he'd tied his elbow-length hair back so it wouldn't fall into his face. He'd probably have no choice but to cut most of it off. Harry doubted he'd stand a chance ever getting out all of the tangles.
"Are your friends alright?"
"Hermione's fine." Harry hesitated. "Ron's leg was broken, but Madam Pomfrey fixed him up."
Sirius hesitated, then asked, his eyes trailing down to Harry's collar, "How's your throat?" He'd strangled Harry the previous night when tensions had been running high.
"Doesn't hurt at all," Harry answered truthfully. He winced as he took in the blossoming bruise on Sirius' cheek. He'd gotten in some decent hits before Sirius had gone for his neck. "What about your face?"
"Please. I've had far worse." A tentative grin spread over Sirius' gaunt face. "Suppose that makes us even, eh, Harry?"
Harry found himself mirroring the grin. "Suppose it does."
Silence settled between them. While Harry had a hard time looking at Sirius, his godfather seemed unable to look away.
"I need to apologize–"
"I just wanted to ask–"
They both fell silent, having spoken at the same time.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, shifting on his feet. "You go ahead."
Sirius' stare was starting to become unnerving. People kept telling Harry how much he resembled his father. He wondered whether Sirius was seeing him at all, or whether to him it felt like reuniting with his old friend.
"I wanted to apologize," Sirius said, his voice rough and gravely. "For your friend. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."
Then maybe you shouldn't have dragged him through a tunnel with your teeth, Harry thought, but stopped himself from saying it out loud.
"I mean it," Sirius insisted. "I don't think– I didn't exactly think all this through." He gave a humorless, self-deprecating bark of a laugh. It sounded so doglike, Harry wondered how many other traits he'd adopted from all those years spent in his animagus form. "I'd love to blame my captivity, but I was never really the type to think before acting. Remus, he's different. Always has been. And your dad–"
He trailed off, finally tearing away his eyes.
"In any case," Sirius continued after a tense pause, "It's been a long time, and... I'm not really sure what to do next."
Harry couldn't imagine it. Sirius had been in Azkaban for almost as long as Harry had been alive. So many years of his life had passed by. Had it not been for Pettigrew resurfacing, it would have been many, many more. How was anyone supposed to pick up a life that had collapsed in on itself over a decade ago?
"Where are you going to live?" Harry asked.
"My family left me a house." Sirius shrugged. "There was nobody else to inherit it, so it should still be there."
"Are you sure?" Harry had a hard time believing that the house of a convicted criminal could have gone untouched for over a decade.
"Trust me." Sirius tugged his lips into a sardonic smile. "Nobody would have wanted to set foot inside."
Something about his expression made Harry suspect that Sirius could have thrived in Slytherin. He doubted Sirius would take that observation well, so he kept his mouth shut.
"One thing I do know," Sirius said slowly, "is that I'd like to get to know you better."
Harry's eyes dropped to the floor. "I'd like that," he muttered, feeling awfully shy all of a sudden.
"That's something I wanted to ask you earlier," Sirius pushed on, "but it didn't feel right in front of the others."
Harry frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Sirius cleared his throat. He seemed deeply interested in the floor pattern. "You live with your relatives, right?"
Pressure built up in Harry's throat. "No. I don't."
Sirius' startled eyes met his. "But I saw you with them. Last summer."
"I used to live with them. But not anymore."
"Oh." Sirius didn't seem to know where to go from here. Whatever speech he'd prepared, Harry had completely thrown it off the rails.
"Why do you ask?"
"Where else are you staying?" Sirius asked, ignoring his question.
Harry instantly felt himself tensing up. The awful uncertainty that had faded into the background due to the exams, his argument with Snape and everything that had happened with Pettigrew now shouldered its way back to the front. The school year would be over in only a couple short weeks. Harry still had no clue what would happen then.
There was no way Sirius would like who he'd been living with before.
"Nothing's been decided yet."
"Then where have you been staying so far?"
"I was with my relatives for half of last summer."
"And from there?"
Harry closed his eyes. He really didn't want to tell him, but he also didn't want to lie. "I was being stupid," he muttered. "I ran, so Dumbledore had somebody find me."
"Who?" Sirius' voice was getting sharper now.
Harry, his heart sinking, caved and told him everything.
The dungeon door gave way underneath his boot and slammed into the wall with a satisfying bang. Sirius winced at the sound, but couldn't get himself to regret it. An all-encompassing haze of rage had taken hold of him.
"You didn't dare," he said as soon as his eyes had found the target of his ire.
Dear old Snivellus had barely changed at all since they'd finished Hogwarts. The same over-dimensional hooked nose. The same air of gloominess. The same beady, hateful eyes that made no secret out of the disdain they held towards everything and everybody.
"Not even you can be that utterly rotten from the inside." Sirius took a slow step into the room – an awful, oppressive chamber filled with disgusting objects floating in glass jars and an air of student despair.
Harried footsteps from the hallway told him that McGonagall had followed him. "Sirius! Really now," she huffed out air that sounded more out-of-breath than indignant.
Sirius did something he would not have dared while still a student and ignored her.
"Do enlighten me of the crimes you so believe me to have committed," Snape drawled from behind his desk. He'd risen as soon as Sirius had whisked through the doorway, one hand hovering over his wand. Paranoid bastard.
"Why don't you tell me about what you did to Harry?" Sirius snarled.
But before Snape could say anything, McGonagall made a clicking sound of impatience with her tongue. "Had you listened before storming down here like an irate erumpent, you would have known that all summer arrangements had been decided by Albus."
"Merlin knows what reasons he had." He glared at Snape. "Why on earth did you agree?"
"You may have no sense of duty to speak of, but the same does not apply to all of us."
"That's what you're going with? Duty?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "So you didn't decide to pull one over James one last time? Make his son's life living hell to live out some sick fantasy? Do you even care that he's Lily's son, too?"
Snape made an aborted sort of motion for his wand.
"That's it then, huh?" Sirius' lips formed an empty little smile. "Is this your way of satisfying your gross obsession with her?"
McGonagall gripped his upper arm, her voice stern. "Mr. Black, heed your words."
So that was what it took to lose first-name privileges. "He's my godson," Sirius bit out. "They trusted me to take care of him. He was supposed to be with me."
"Then where have you been for the past twelve years," Snape whispered.
"Severus–"
"You know damn well where I was!" Sirius shouted, his voice catching in his throat. "And what about you? How come I was left rotting in Azkaban when you weren't? Why did you get a trial?" He wiped over his eyes impatiently, uncaring about who would see. "Why did you get to do what I should've done when I actually want him to be happy?"
"Don't insinuate to know what I do or do not want."
Sirius let out a harsh, furious huff of air. "Out of everybody– Out of all the people who could have helped him– Why you–"
"You don't know a thing about me," Snape hissed.
"I don't need the past twelve years to know you're still the same bitter, hateful little bastard you were when we went to school together!"
"Sirius Black," McGonagall snapped. "If the both of you cannot have a civil conversation–"
"Civil? With him?"
"A civilized conversation is clearly too much to ask from somebody who's spent a decade living as a feral mutt." Snape bared his teeth. "More so than he already did during his teen years."
"Will you stop it!" McGonagall exploded. "I refuse to listen to you squabble like children when there are far more important things to discuss than your personal, dated slights against one another!"
She managed to render both of them speechless right until more footsteps rang closer from the stone hallway. This time it was the headmaster, closely followed by–
"Remus!" Sirius forgot all about Snape to give his friend a once-over. He looked unkempt, sickly and horribly exhausted. "When did you– Are you okay?"
"Much better now." Remus gave him a tired smile. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have forgotten to take the potion."
Sirius felt his face contort at the comment. As if he needed the reminder that Remus had been reliant on Snape's generosity all school year. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but why are you here? This is sort of–"
"Private?" Remus gave him a loop-sided smile. "So I've gathered from across the hallway."
McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore, crossing her arms. "They've been screeching at each other like banshees."
"There are justified reasons to feel resentful today," said Dumbledore, effortlessly seizing all attention in the room. What people like Voldemort achieved through fear, Dumbledore was able to do out of respect alone. "I ask that we – all of us – put them aside for the moment to focus on the issue we would all like to see resolved."
"He can stay with me," Sirius said almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking.
"Sirius–" Remus said.
"That's what you meant, right, professor? Figuring out where Harry's gonna live from now on?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm his godfather. Lily and James wanted me to take care of him, so that's what I'm gonna do. I'm obviously a better choice than him. Right, Moony?"
But when he turned to share a look with Remus, he only got a tight expression in return.
"You're not on his side, are you?" Sirius' laugh felt empty. "Because we might not have seen each other in twelve years, but–"
"I think you would be wonderful for Harry," Remus said quietly. "I think he'd love you."
"Exactly!" Sirius felt almost too relieved for words. "I'll tell him. He can pack his things and–
"Certainly a possible option." Dumbledore gave a cordial nod in his direction. "Allow us to consider it in depth."
"What's there to consider? Harry needs a place to stay and I can provide one. End of discussion."
"Let's talk it through," Remus insisted, his voice firmer than the headmaster's. "Before you make a lifelong commitment you end up regretting."
Sirius scoffed. "As if I could ever regret Harry."
"Nobody suggests you would. But you know that there's more to taking care of a child than putting a roof over their head."
Sirius pressed down his irritation and tried hard not to feel ganged up on. Being stubborn and refusing to play along wouldn't win him points in proving to be a suitable guardian for his godson.
"Fine," he said, resisting the urge to cross his arms. "Let's start with the fact that I am, in fact, his godfather and as such have legal claim."
"I do wonder if such a claim is still valid coming from an incarcerated criminal," Snape said quietly.
"My name is going to be cleared soon enough," he snarled. "I haven't committed the crimes I've been punished for. Not like the same could be said about you."
"You certainly looked willing to rectify your sentencing while attempting to murder Pettigrew in that shack."
"You should be lucky I went after him and not you."
"The way you're talking does not give me faith in either of your abilities to take care of a teenager." McGonagall's tone had them both pause even though she'd barely raised her voice.
Sirius quickly reclassified the conversation from 'necessary but ultimately pointless formality' to 'actually capable of losing him his chance of being given guardianship'.
"If I may," said Dumbledore, "perhaps the decision will be easier to make once we've settled some necessities."
"Yes. Let's think about it practically," Remus agreed before Sirius could object. "Where are you going to take him?"
"My family's house," Sirius said instantly. "It's got plenty of space for the two of us."
"Grimmauld Place?" McGonagall's voice sounded too careful for his liking. "I was unaware that somebody had seen to the property since your sentencing."
Sirius grimaced. "I'll fix it up." Even though he had no clue how he was going to finish in less than a few weeks – more realistic would be months. He had far less time than that until the end of the school term.
"What about money?" McGonagall continued. "Are you able to support the both of you?"
"Please. My family's rich."
"And you have access to that fortune?" Dumbledore asked.
"I– I got him that Firebolt earlier this year."
"Of course that was you," Remus muttered, his lips twitching.
"I anticipate a rather significant 'however'," Snape said.
"Shows what you know."
"Sirius. Please."
He felt the overwhelming urge to stare holes into the dungeon walls. "Guess the Ministry wasn't so thrilled when they figured out a criminal on the run still had access to his Gringotts vault."
There was a horrible pause.
"They locked your vault?" Remus asked quietly.
"They're gonna reopen it any day now," Sirius protested. "Soon as my name's being cleared."
Merlin, he hoped it would be that simple. But his innocence had been proven, so there was no way they could refuse, was there? He wasn't a criminal. The Ministry couldn't keep treating him like one.
"Allow me to summarize," said Snape, somehow keeping his slimy satisfaction out of his voice. "You have no house–"
"I just told you that I very much do."
"Though no guarantee that it won't attack the boy should he so much as touch one of the doorknobs," Snape corrected, sneering. "You have neither money, nor a source of income–"
"Only for as long as it takes the Ministry to clean up their mistake," he pressed out through gritted teeth.
"Because the Ministry has always been known for their efficiency."
"Why are you even a part of this conversation?" Sirius snapped. "If anything, you should be glad that I'm offering you an out. You can act however you want, but the kid looks exactly like his father. I don't believe for a second that you're not still fostering that sad little grudge of yours."
"Some of us have had a decade to reflect, rather than witness their brain cells withering away in a dirty prison cell."
"Enough already," McGonagall snapped. "One more ill-mannered comment from either of you and we shall postpone this discussion until you can behave in each other's presence."
There was a seething sort of silence. Sirius wouldn't stop glaring at Snape – and vice versa – but McGonagall had at least succeeded in nibbing a new verbal sparring match at the bud.
"He went about it in ill-taste," Remus said quietly, "but Severus does bring up a good point."
Sirius almost choked on the cold feeling of betrayal. "You can't be serious. Which part of what he said was possibly worth listening to?"
"You were locked away when you were 21," Remus said. "Your life has been pretty much on halt since then. Are you sure that the first thing you want to do after coming back is take care of a teenager?"
Sirius stared at his old friend. At who he thought was his friend. "Are you suggesting that Harry isn't important enough?"
"You know that's not what I'm saying." Remus actually sounded annoyed now. "Lily and James might have been ready to have a kid at 21, but were you? Would you have decided to have children then?"
"I– I guess not, but–"
"And since then, what all has changed? You lost some of your best friends. You lost your life. You spent a decade obsessing over Peter–"
"Don't fucking say it like it wasn't my right–"
"Rightfully perhaps, but still." Remus looked grimmer than Sirius had seen him in a long time. Maybe ever. "If you're going to take care of Harry, you're not going to be roommates. You're not going to be living with James. He's a kid, and you'd be his parent."
"I know what I'm signing up for," Sirius said, even though a small, treacherous part of him was starting to whisper that maybe he didn't after all.
"Are you sure?" Remus insisted. "You've met Harry properly for the first time last night. Can you say for sure that you're prepared for parenting him? That you can provide him with what he needs? That you won't change your mind after a month and regret having made the decision too quickly?"
Sirius felt that if he said 'Of course I can,' too quickly, he'd just be proving that he hadn't really thought it through. Which he hadn't. Not in depth. Doubt was starting to creep in against Sirius' will.
But he'd be damned if he let Harry go without a fight.
"I never pretended I'd be the perfect option," he said. "But I'm the best one he has."
"On what basis?" Snape's voice was filled with contempt. "Your biased personal opinion? Your pathological grudge?"
"On the basis of you being the actual worst," Sirius hissed.
McGonagall didn't say anything, this time. She just rubbed her eyes, looking impossibly tired. Remus seemed like he was barely resisting the urge to do the same.
"To address some of the concerns that have been made," Dumbledore said, courteously pretending like the past minutes had not happened, "money should not be an issue. Funds can be provided until the Ministry sorts out Sirius' legal status."
Snape bowed to the shift in the conversation with a sour expression. "What about the house? You cannot send him to live in a deathtrap."
"How long do you estimate might it take to make the house inhabitable?" Dumbledore asked.
Sirius grimaced. "I haven't been inside for a decade," he admitted reluctantly. "I don't– I mean, I'll figure it out. I'll clean out a bedroom for him first, and the kitchen I guess, and–"
Merlin, the house was so big. It had been chock-full of dark artifacts and jinxes when he'd moved out. Now, after over a decade of nobody taking care of it... There could be unstable wards, half-functioning traps, curses that had years and years to seep into the house's very foundations...
"I'll, look, I'll manage. Remus, he'll–" He turned to his friend. "You'll help, right?"
"Of course I'll help," Remus said easily.
"The summer holidays are all but upon us," Dumbledore said. "Will you manage it by then?"
Sirius wanted to say yes. He wanted so badly to say yes. "I– I guess I don't– I can't say for sure."
Dumbledore nodded like the words weren't physically painful for Sirius to force over his tongue. "Let us plan for a potential transitional period, then. Severus, should we decide that Harry is to live with Sirius, and should the house not be prepared by then, would you be willing to house him in the meantime?"
Snape gave a short nod without an ounce of hesitation. Sirius wanted to strangle the bastard. But it wasn't like he had an alternative to offer.
"Which still leaves us with a choice to make." Dumbledore's expression turned more solemn.
"Why do you even want him?" Sirius burst out, staring at Snape. He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't get it. "I thought Dumbledore made you take him. Why are you fighting to keep him?"
"I am hardly–" Snape cut himself off and pinched his lips. "I am merely making sure the best solution is found in his name."
"But why does it matter to you? Why, of all people, should you–" He realized the approach wouldn't get him anywhere before he finished the sentence and changed tracks. "We discussed my qualifications. What about his? What makes you consider him as an option?"
"Other than stable funds," Snape said, "reliable shelter, security and the certainty that I will not lose interest in him the instant he proves to differ in character from his father?"
Sirius lunged at Snape, too furious to let his lack of a wand stop him.
Two bangs whipped through the dungeon with twin flashes of light, and Sirius was flung back against the closed door, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He gasped for breath, but struggled to his feet right away.
Going by his ruffled appearance, the same had happened to Snape.
"That was uncalled for," McGonagall said, the cold fury in her eyes aimed at her colleague this time.
Snape didn't look like he regretted his words, but he held his tongue.
"We are all adults here," she said, her voice trembling. It was far scarier than her yelling had been. "If you cannot act like it, neither one of you will take Harry with you this summer."
Snape pulled the collar of his cloak straight. Sirius carded one hand through his hair. They both breathed heavily, but other than a mutual look of resentment, neither of them tried to disobey.
"I dare claim that the most important arguments have been made," Dumbledore said. Other than a warning note in his voice, he did not mention them having come close to brawling around Snape's office like school boys.
He still wouldn't say whether Sirius had won or lost. The thought of Snape being made Harry's guardian instead of Sirius made something acrid curl up at the back of his throat. He couldn't let it get to that. He couldn't lose Harry like that.
"So how do we decide?" he said impatiently. "Who do I have to convince?"
Dumbledore gave him a mild smile. "I believed that to be quite obvious."
Sirius' excited voice greeted him the second Harry stepped foot inside his godfather's temporary quarters. He'd gotten the message to come as quickly as he could, so he'd left with only an apologetic look at his friends.
"Good news, Harry! It's your choice!"
Harry paused, the door falling shut behind him. "What is?"
"Where you're going to stay over the summer."
Harry stiffened. But Sirius looked more relaxed than he'd ever seen him, so he felt some of his tension dissipating despite the nerve-wracking topic. "Were you talking with Dumbledore?"
"Sure was." He grinned. "You can stay at my family's house with me. Bit of a gloomy place, but far too big for just me. We can renovate and make it more homey – it'll be fun."
Harry's lips twitched. Something large and warm ballooned in his chest: Sirius' excitement was contagious. "Not exactly a hard decision then, if you're my only option," he teased.
"Well, unless you wanna go back to old Snivellus."
Harry's smile froze. "What?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "You know, Snape. Whatever. Who knows what he calls me behind my back."
Harry didn't say anything. He felt like his brain was stuck processing Sirius' words.
"You said it, didn't you? Not exactly a hard choice to make." But while Sirius' words were confident, his tone was anything but.
Harry's brain finally kicked back into action. "Snape would take me back?"
"I mean, I– I guess he would. Merlin knows why, though." He opened his mouth once with no sound coming out. "Wait, are you– Why are you asking?"
"Nevermind. I just– I guess we kind of had this huge fight during the school term, and– It's nothing, I just, I didn't expect–"
He trailed off when he realized that Sirius was gaping at him.
"Are you actually considering this? What–" He shook his head, carding one hand through his hair. "I can't believe I didn't ask, I just– Those weeks you were with Snape. What– What were they like?"
Harry pressed his lips together. He was uncomfortably reminded of all the months he'd spent avoiding the topic in front of Ron for fear of starting an argument, but this was somehow even worse.
"Look, I might've come into this conversation expecting the wrong things," Sirius said quietly. "Could we just start over?"
He really didn't want to talk at all. But he also didn't see a way around it. "Okay."
"So... You were at Snape's last summer."
He hummed.
"What was that like?" It was obvious that Sirius had a pretty clear vision of what he thought the summer had been like and tried very hard not to make a comment.
Harry didn't want to lie to his godfather, but he also thought that he might not particularly like what he had to say. "It was weird," he admitted, huffing out a breath of air. "My relatives aren't great people. Living with them, I was– That's why I ran away. And when Snape found me I thought, I mean, I thought it'd be like that, but a thousand times worse."
"... And it wasn't?"
"No. Not really. It– It was– It was so weird," Harry stuttered, stumbling over his words. "It started out pretty bad, because we hated each other, but... I mean I could tell that he didn't want me around, but it was still much better than the Dursleys." He cringed, realizing how pathetic that sounded. "At one point I asked him to get my school stuff because the Dursleys had locked it all up, and when he was there, he– he found out some stuff about what living with them was like. And– And he–" He trailed off again, his voice faltering.
"It's okay." Sirius' expression was unreadable. "Take your time."
Harry breathed deeply, trying to dispel the tension in his chest. It felt like a vice had taken hold of his lungs. "The Dursleys had me sleep in a cupboard until my letters came," he said quietly. "And when Snape found out, he... he made them give him everything I ever owned. And he said, he... he said I'd never have to go back to them."
Now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop. He'd never had to put any of this into words before, but now the words poured out of his mouth like they'd just been waiting for him to spill them.
"He really started to change, then. I thought he was messing with me at first, so I was being kind of horrible for a while. I broke rules just to see what would happen. I was… I mean, I guess I was waiting for him to lose his temper, and at one point I wouldn't even have blamed him for it. But he just... didn't. He never made me feel like I wasn't safe with him."
They might not have left things on the best of terms. Learning about Snape's past made Harry feel like he'd never known him at all. But even knowing what he did didn't erase what Snape had done for Harry during the summer.
"I don't really know what to think of him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's probably not what you want me to think."
They sat in silence for a good while. Harry might not have known Sirius for long, but it felt wrong to see him speechless.
Finally, in a quiet sort of voice, Sirius said, "Do you actually want to go back to him?"
Harry found that he couldn't answer. It should have been easy. It would have been, just a short year ago. But now...
He'd only met Sirius yesterday.
"I don't know," he admitted, clenching his hands into the fabric of his robes. "I don't– I have to think about it."
Sirius looked like he'd been slapped.
Harry didn't know what to do. He'd have given anything for a choice about what would happen to him last summer, but now he'd rather the decision would be made for him.
Sirius had looked so shocked when he hadn't answered right away. He didn't want to think about what he would look like if Harry actually chose Snape over him.
Harry, Ron and Hermione spent an entire afternoon at the lake once Madam Pomfrey deemed Ron's leg sufficiently healed. They brought fruit and slices of toast to feed the Giant Squid and watched from afar as Hagrid struggled to squeeze the bundimun from his last lesson back into its enclosure.
They might have felt more inclined to offer their help, were it not for the intense stench of decay and acidic secretions originating from the many-eyed creature.
Oh well. Hagrid looked like he had it handled.
The tension that had put their friendship to a test all school year was all but gone. Ron, forced to admit that the dementors would have gotten to them had it not been for Snape, hadn't tried nagging Harry about it since.
Hermione, after some more back and forth, told them all about her secret called a time turner that had dictated her nightmare of a school year.
"What, so you actually willingly dropped some of your classes?" Ron asked after she'd admitted to having given it back to McGonagall just that morning. "Were you held at wandpoint or something?"
Hermione's skin turned dark as she blushed. "Some things are more important."
Lupin quit. Harry didn't understand why, seeing as among the students, only he and his friends knew about Lupin's condition. Yet when Harry tried to convince him to stay, Lupin only told him that he'd been naive to accept Dumbledore's offer in the first place.
"I could have hurt you," he said, a sardonic little smile marring his expression. "You or your friends. Had I not stayed in the Shack when I did..."
"But you did," Harry protested. "Nothing happened. We're all fine."
"No thanks to me." He clasped his suitcase shut. "No, Harry. It was too close. I couldn't live with myself if I let something like this happen again."
And no matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't change Lupin's mind. He watched silently as Lupin checked every cupboard and closet in his office for things he'd accidentally left behind. It occurred to him that if Lupin really was leaving, this might be his last chance for a while to ask his opinion.
"Professor, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Lupin paused, closing a large wooden chest. "What can I help you with?"
"Do you know about the whole..." he grimaced, "situation? With Sirius, and…"
"If you're referring to your future living situation, then yes, I'm afraid so."
Lupin's voice was nothing but gentle, but Harry still cringed at his tone. "What do you think I should do?"
Instead of answering at once, Lupin took a seat in front of his desk and sighed. "That should really be your decision."
Harry knew that, and yet... "I don't know what to do," he admitted, tentatively sitting down in front of Lupin. "You're Sirius' friend. So... What's he like? Living with him, what would that be like?"
Lupin hesitated. "That's a very hard question to answer. I haven't seen Sirius in twelve years – we were only a few years out of Hogwarts then. It's too early to tell how much he's changed."
"You still know him better than I do."
Lupin paused, looking off into the distance. "Sirius was – is – one of the best friends I've ever had," he said finally. "He's funny, loyal, and courageous. He spent years figuring out how to become animagi with James to make each full moon just a little more bearable for me, and I'll never forget that."
He paused. "But he's also reckless. Reckless and very stubborn. He hardly ever thinks things through before doing them. He can hold grudges like no other."
Harry was glad that Lupin was taking his question seriously. He didn't know what he would have done, had Lupin tried to talk him into living with his old friend blindly.
"I only know him as a friend," Lupin continued. "I don't know what he would be like as a guardian. But I think he would do his best, and I think he would be very fond of you. He already is. Beyond that... I'm afraid I can't say."
"Alright," Harry said, digesting all this. "Thank you, professor. Really."
"You don't have to answer me, but what do you think you'll do?"
Harry folded his hands tightly and stared at his knees. "I don't know. I guess– I mean, I already know what living with Snape would be like. But with Sirius, I just..."
"You've only met him a few days ago," Lupin said gently.
"I thought he was going to kill me the entire school year."
"It's more than reasonable to feel wary of him."
"I'm not scared," Harry protested. "I know he won't hurt me."
"I wasn't trying to suggest you are. Just that it's not something you can forget overnight."
"I– Yeah. Yes, exactly."
"Look, Harry." Lupin leaned forward and rested his clasped hands on his desk. "If there's one piece of advice I'd like to give you, it's this: Don't think about anybody else when making this decision. Don't think about how either of them might react. Don't make it about anyone other than yourself."
"It feels like no matter what I do, I'll end up betraying one of them," he admitted quietly.
"You're not." Lupin sounded very convincing. "Even if you were, that would be on them to deal with. You're not selfish for choosing what will happen in your life, and even if you were, you should allow yourself to be selfish. It's your future."
Harry found that he felt a little better. It didn't make the situation any easier, but at least he felt less like he would ruin something irreparably by choosing wrong. "Thank you, professor."
The Hogwarts Express was scheduled to return them to London in only a few days and Harry had yet to make up his mind. The uncertainty weighed in his stomach like a brick.
"I've meant to talk to you much earlier," Dumbledore told him, giving him a kind smile. "I'm afraid so much has been happening, it kept getting away from me."
Considering he'd had Pettigrew locked up in his school until a few days ago and Ministry wizards coming and going daily since Sirius' innocence had been proven, Harry didn't find that hard to believe.
"I know you have quite the difficult choice to make. Tell me, have you come to a decision yet?"
Harry shifted in his seat. He felt a lot like during one of his exams. Like he was being tested on a subject he knew he'd studied for, but couldn't for the life of him think of the right answer. "My friends both offered," he said, avoiding the question. "I could stay with them for a while."
"Indeed you could." Dumbledore winced.
His tone had Harry raising his head. "What's wrong about staying with them?"
"I didn't mean to alarm you," Dumbledore said, sounding apologetic. "You must forgive an old man's paranoia. I admit that with your family's blood wards gone, I find myself reluctant to send you off without protection."
Harry tapped his knee up and down, unable to hold still. "But why? Sirius isn't a threat anymore. He never was."
Dumbledore gave him a pained look. "I rather believe you can take a guess at my answer, Harry."
It was no secret that Dumbledore believed Voldemort was one day going to return. Seeing as he'd tried exactly that during two of Harry's three years at Hogwarts so far, Harry was inclined to believe him.
"So I can't go to see my friends?" If Dumbledore was reluctant to leave him with a family of wizards, there was no way he'd trust Hermione's non-magical parents to protect him.
But Dumbledore was already shaking his head. "I would be delighted to see you off to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's home for at least a few weeks."
Harry slumped in his chair, pacified. But that still left the rest of the summer. "So what do you think I should do?"
"I believe people tend to put too much weight on my opinion," Dumbledore said, his usual twinkle in his eyes. "I dare say you're about to make up your mind all by yourself."
"Kind of feels like I only have one option anyway," Harry muttered, then stiffened. It hadn't occurred to him until he'd said it, but he felt it hard to believe Snape actually wanted to take him back after what had happened between them during the school term.
Sirius had told him he could choose. So had Lupin. But Sirius had thought Harry wouldn't have to think about it at all, and Snape hadn't said a word about it so far. Did Sirius and Lupin even know what Snape wanted? Or had they just assumed that Snape would take him back after Harry had told them about last summer?
He'd talked to both Sirius and Lupin in depth, but it felt like Snape's silence spoke for itself.
"Oh?" Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him. "My apologies if nobody has made it clear to you before, but I can say with utmost certainty that your previous summer arrangement could be extended, should you wish it."
Even if that was the case (and if it was, why hadn't Snape told him himself?), Harry still didn't know if he wanted that. Snape and he hadn't left things on the worst of terms, considering Snape was part of the reason Sirius was about to be spoken innocent. But they were far from being back to normal – or whatever constituted 'normal' in the odd sort of truce they'd build over the past year. Harry doubted they could be, after what he'd learned and what Snape had admitted to have done.
But still, Harry couldn't help but to wonder.
He had to think of the key to the wardrobe Snape had given him all those months ago, buried somewhere in his trunk.
And yet… "He probably wouldn't agree to that."
"Indeed?" Something odd twitched over Dumbledore's face. He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. "My dear boy. I believe you underestimate what difference a conversation or two can make."
Harry made his choice. He took Lupin's words to heart and tried very hard not to feel like he was betraying somebody he could grow to care about deeply.
"Please don't be mad."
"Harry... Merlin, how could I be mad at you?" But Sirius' eyes had a horrible shine to them. Somehow it was worse than if he'd started yelling.
"Please don't cry, either," Harry said, feeling a little desperate. He'd known it would be hard, but this… Maybe he'd chosen wrong after all. He hadn't told anybody else. Maybe he should suck it up, tell Sirius he'd changed his mind and–
"No. Harry, no. I'm not– I told them I'd accept your choice no matter what, and I will, I just– I didn't expect–" He wiped at his eyes angrily. Harry was starting to realize that the anger wasn't directed at him. "I just. I'm sorry. I just don't get it. I won't lie and say I do."
That was fair. Harry couldn't even say he fully understood his decision himself. Still, he felt his heart sinking.
"It's your life though, isn't it?" Sirius gave him a shaky smile. "And if you still want to be around me sometimes– I mean, if you were serious about wanting to get to know me–"
"I was," Harry said quickly. "I really, really want to get to know you."
Sirius hesitated. He seemed to find what he was looking for, because he gave Harry a small smile. "Okay. I won't ask for more, then." His smile dimmed. "Just promise me one thing. If he hurts you... If he ever does anything – anything at all – to make you feel unsafe–"
"He's not like that," Harry said quietly.
"Please, Harry. Humor me."
Harry pressed his lips together. But, well versed in talking about Snape around people who hated him after a year of arguing with Ron, he said, "I will. If I change my mind, I'll let you know."
Sirius gave him a relieved look. "Okay. That's... that's good."
Desperate to end the conversation on a different note, Harry said, "Can I ask you something? About my dad?"
"Of course." Sirius' face did something weird. Like he was anticipating and bracing himself for the question at the same time. "Anything."
"His animagus form… was it a stag?"
Sirius winced. When he talked, his voice sounded odd – hoarse and wistful and fond all at the same time. "We called him Prongs." He looked back at Harry. "How did you know?"
Harry kept his eyes fixed somewhere below. "My Patronus."
"You can cast a Patronus?" Sirius asked.
"I couldn't before," Harry admitted. "I tried to learn. But the last time I cast it... I think it was a stag."
"You didn't turn in Sirius."
Snape stiffened. Half the cauldrons in the Potions classroom had already stored themselves in the long line of drawers behind the back row, and going by his raised wand, he'd been about to make the other half do the same.
"You could have," Harry said, stepping into the room properly. "We weren't awake to contradict you. They'd have believed you."
Snape very deliberately looked anywhere but Harry.
"You really hate him. So why didn't you?"
Snape slipped his wand back into his pocket with unsteady fingers. His throat moved soundlessly as he pressed his lips together. "It would have disappointed someone whose opinion matters to me." His voice was firm even though it wasn't louder than a whisper.
Harry pushed away the fierce stab of surprise and said, "I thought you didn't care about anyone."
There was a long pause. "As did I."
Unsure of how to proceed, Harry drew his wand and picked up where Snape had left off. With a quickly muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa' he started directing one of the remaining cauldrons to store itself away for the summer.
They worked in silence, though Harry couldn't tell whether it was comfortable or not.
All but two of the cauldrons were gone by the time Snape lowered his wand. Slowly, like every word took great willpower to utter, he said, "Someone has strongly suggested that it might be time to look forward."
Harry managed to set down his cauldron clumsily before it crashed to the ground. "They might be onto something."
"I trust your godfather has brought up the possibility of coming to live with him."
Harry winced, even though he'd been quietly hoping he wouldn't have to breach the topic himself. "He did." He shifted on his feet, indecisive. "Dumbledore said I could come back to Spinner's End. With you."
Snape said nothing for a long time. Harry wished he could read him as well as Dumbledore seemed able to read people.
"You could."
Harry breathed out deeply. "Okay," he said. "So I'll go and pack." He expected Snape to ask why he hadn't picked Sirius, but he didn't. Harry wouldn't have known what to say if he had.
So many weeks and months of worrying where he'd go. In retrospect, the moment felt rather anticlimactic.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry raised his head. He startled at being on the receiving end of a smirk that for once looked neither mocking nor sarcastic.
"As you've managed to procure a corporeal Patronus, from now on I expect nothing less."
"Y-Yes sir," Harry stuttered out, shocked to recognize something that looked suspiciously like pride.
A/N:
Snape, off-screen: There's no way he'd want to come back
Dumbledore: :)
Harry: There's no way he'd want to take me back
Dumbledore: :)
xxx
I can't believe how much fun it was to write two characters who absolutely loathe each other. Fun fact that the first version of this chapter was about half as long before I realized just how vehement Sirius would be about not giving up his godson without a fight. He was far too docile in my first draft, lol
Also...
No need to steer an argument where you want it to go when you can place the right people in the discussion to do it for you!
Full disclaimer that I love Dumbledore's character and I wish that more people would write his manipulative side like it is portrayed in canon. Making him irredeemably evil just takes away all the things that make him a compelling character.
If anybody wonders what Dumbledore's perspective would have looked like: In my eyes he would have accepted either decision Harry could have made, though he definitely tried to steer the conversations he held towards this one. Grimmauld Place is canonically safe enough to serve as the Order's headquarters, but Dumbledore absolutely preferred Snape – who he's known and trusted since Snape switched sides during the first war and who's finally showing signs of moving past his old grudges – over Sirius – who is somewhat of a wild card, seeing as he's spent a decade in prison and used his first taste of freedom on trying to hunt down and murder Pettigrew.
Sorry for my rambling, lol. Lots of thought went into this chapter, even though a lot of it is going on behind the scenes due to the limited point of view!
Many thanks to To Mockingbird, Igornerd, JustAnotherOutcast and flyingcat!
~Gwen