Chapter Eight: Seriously Sirius

After the Quidditch session with Tracey, a combination of Ron and Daphne brought Harry up to speed on exactly what Malfoy had done and the various lies Daphne had told him to get him to back off. Harry and Ron had then debated a variety of ways to get back at Malfoy, with Ron happily suggesting that Harry sneak into the dormitory and do exactly what Daphne had threatened Malfoy with. Though they had seriously considered it, with a surprising amount of knowledge about a common room they had 'never been in', it would look a bit suspicious and would lead to another bout of retribution.

It was decided that they needed something that would leave Daphne in the clear, but that would get the appropriate revenge on Malfoy. There was no way he was going to get away with breaking Tracey's broom, even Hermione agreed on that, though her brand of retribution stuck far more to the rules than anything Harry and Ron had in mind.

"I don't know what we can do though," Ron grumbled, as they poured over a rather lengthy and boring essay about Neptune. "I still think we should sneak into his room, be dead easy with the cloak."

"If Daphne hadn't already said something to him, it'd be great." Harry bemoaned, realising for the second time that night he had written the same sentence twice. He crossed it out with an irritated sigh. "What we need is something else, we need to do the same to him as he's done to Tracey."

"What does he love apart from bullying people?"

"Quidditch, but how can we take that off him if we can't prove to Hooch what he did?"

There was a contemplative silence, punctured only by the scratching of quills on parchment and a few groans from Ron. Hermione was curled up by the fire with Crookshanks and Ginny knitting elf hats, having done all her homework three days ago. Harry was starting to get to the point that he wished he could use one of Fred and George's snackboxes to skive off lessons and catch up.

The snackboxes… The match was only a week away now, it would be too late to get him banned but he could miss the match. They'd have to get a replacement. A ready-made replacement even.

"Oi, where are you going?" Ron asked loudly but Harry ignored him as he leapt from his chair and hurried over to the other side of the Common Room where Fred and George were talking in hushed tones so as not to be overheard by Hermione.

"You two got a minute?"

"Anything for you, Mister Potter." George grinned, setting down the quill he had been using to slowly scrape puss from the table into a small bag. "We're just getting some of the sap from Neville's little cactus." He explained at Harry's confused look. "Got him to puncture it half an hour ago, poor bloke."

"I told him he should've come behind the sofa with us," Fred said, "but he wanted to make sure we wouldn't hurt it. I mean us, Harry, I ask you. Would we ever be irresponsible?"

"The things people won't trust us with," George sighed, as he managed to force the last of the dried puss into the bag. "Still, this should be good for the snackboxes, we're trying out a new recipe."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Harry whispered, pulling over and joining them at the table. "How easy is it to feed one to someone, without them knowing?"

"Harry," George beamed.

"You're very own prank."

"We're so proud."

Harry smirked and waited for the twins to finish acting like parents at their child's graduation.

"Anyone in mind?" Fred asked, grinning with glee. "Or is this a purely hypothetical situation."

"Depends if you can do it."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with our dear Slytherin friends, would it?" Ron had told them a few days prior, after one too many remarks from the twins about how protective he was of Tracey. As soon as they had heard the story, any resentment they had held towards Daphne and Tracey had died at once. In fact, quite a few of the DA members had been friendly with the pair in the last meeting and it did not take Harry long to figure out why. Everyone hated Malfoy.

"Or one in particular," George added, glancing over at Ron.

"So, think you can do it?"

"Give us a time and a place," Fred nodded, emphatically. "'Bout time someone taught the little creep a lesson."

"And it'll look natural, not like anyone did it?" Harry asked. "I don't want him to figure out that anyone did anything, because you know exactly what he'll do next. It needs to look like it just happened out of the blue, a coincidence."

"Maybe not the snackboxes," George admitted, "but I think we can rustle something up. Might be worth a few doses, so he thinks it's a cold or something. Then hit him with the big stuff, I'm guessing the morning of the game, right?"

Harry nodded, making sure that Hermione could not hear them. He had a funny feeling that she would not approve of this level of subterfuge. Her suggestions had been to tell Professor McGonagall or Madam Hooch, but all four of the others had shot her down at once. She had responded huffily and insisted she would have nothing to do with any other plans. Ron was looking over with an evil grin on his freckled face, seemingly having figured out what Harry was up to.

George catching his eye said, "not to worry, we'll make sure little miss prefect doesn't find out."

"We'll sort it," added Fred. "Better not tell you what we're actually going to do."

"Plausible deniability."

"Can't be guilty if you don't know what you're supposed to be guilty of," Fred nodded. "Fancy a trip to the kitchens, brother?"

"You read my mind." George grinned and together the twins headed off out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry to wonder how they were going to do whatever it was they planned on doing. Harry, knowing better than to ask, let them go and returned to his homework where Ron was still grinning evilly as he imagined the vengeance Fred and George were about to wreak on Malfoy.

In a turn of events that surprised no-one, Hermione did not approve. Daphne, on the other hand, was very keen on the idea. In fact, she began plotting on how to convince the team to take on Tracey in Malfoy's sted.

"It'd be perfect to see her out-do him when he can't play," Daphne had grinned smugly, before adding. "Not that I want you to lose, obviously."

"Obviously," Harry had smirked as Colin Creavey sent a particularly exuberant reductor curse sailing over their heads. The DA were making good progress, Neville hadn't accidentally jinxed anyone for a while and Hermione was picking things up faster than Harry could teach her.

But it was the end of his week that made things perfect for Harry.

"Excellent work, Potter." Professor McGonagall said as Harry successfully managed to banish and then recall his vase without it shattering into a million pieces. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Harry stared at her. He couldn't remember the last time she had given him points in class. Hermione, who had done the exact same fifteen minutes earlier, shot him an encouraging smile. He had seen an upsurge in his talents in class the last week, as life settled into some form of routine. Even Snape, bitter though he had been to admit it, had been unable to banish his potion that week, mainly thanks to a tip from Tracey about writing out his instructions before starting.

"And, Mr Potter, I would request that you stay after class is over." Only Ron was paying attention as Neville, who had valiantly tried summoning his vase, had screamed as it shattered and fell off his desk.

Once the bell rang the rest of the class filed out. Harry heard Ron saying loudly to Hermione that McGonagall wanted to talk about Quidditch with Harry, earning a wry smile from the stern Transfiguration professor. Harry felt a flutter of excitement in his chest. He had not spoken to McGonagall since they had argued over Umbridge, apart from catching her eye in class and hoping to hear something about Sirius.

When everyone had left and the door swung shut behind them, McGonagall pulled from her robes a small brown package, tied with a black string.

"I spoke to your godfather," she explained, setting it down on the desk before him. "He said that he would be delighted to receive you for Christmas, the Headmaster agreed it would be good for the both of you. As for this," she indicated the small parcel, "he said to tap it with your wand and say his name should you wish to speak to him. Be careful to only use it when you are positive you're alone, do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor." Harry grinned, snatching it up eagerly. Finally, he could talk to Sirius. Ever since they had left Grimmauld Place he had longed to speak to his godfather, tell him about Umbridge, ask about the Order, and hear that bark-like laugh. Sirius, he knew, hated being trapped in Grimmauld Place and Harry knew the feeling all too well. It would be like being stuck in Privet Drive with no escape.

She nodded curtly, casting an eye at the closed door as if worried that it might be flung open and Umbridge would be standing on the other side. The Hogwarts High Inquisitor had taken her new position in her stride and was re-doubling her efforts to stamp the Ministry's authority on Hogwarts. It gave Harry immense satisfaction to know that he and the DA were undermining her right under her nose.

"Might I ask how your other classes are going?"

"Er…" it was still strange to him that McGonagall knew. Not only knew, but endorsed their behaviour. It was hard to believe sometimes that she was the same professor who had admonished him for rebelling against Umbridge in class. Especially after her performance during Umbridge's inspection. "Well. I think."

She eyed him curiously, almost as if she wanted to say more but was fearful to do so without being overheard.

"That is to be expected. When I discovered you were to be their teacher I suspected you would be a success." Harry felt his cheeks flush slightly at the surprising amount of praise. "And I must commend you on your approach to house unity. Few have graced these halls with such an open mind."

"It was Daphne who insisted on joining," Harry shrugged.

"Yes, Miss Greengrass has always been a forthright student," Professor McGonagall nodded, completely unsurprised. Harry was certain it was actually impossible to surprise her at this point. "Nevertheless, you should take some credit. People follow your example, Potter. Never forget that."

"I'm not sure the Prophet would agree with you, Professor."

"News is temporary, stories change, opinions wane. But like it or not you are who you are, and that will always bring with it a certain level of attention and imitation. Things are changing, Potter.

"Now, you had better head to dinner before our High Inquisitor," she said Umbridge's title with clear disdain, "notices your absence. If she does, you were receiving notice of a detention with me on…" she paused expectantly.

"Monday." Harry provided, grinning and unable to believe his luck. It was one thing having her approve, it was another having her explain where he was in case he was caught roaming the corridors after a lesson with the DA.

"Precisely. You may go."

"Thanks, Professor."

Harry wolfed down dinner that evening, faster even than Ron who was busy arguing with Ginny over who was going to be a better chaser for the Holyhead Harpies the following year. He was too excited to finally talk to Sirius that he didn't even explain where he was going to Ron and Hermione and took the stairs up to the seventh floor two at a time. A decision he regretted around the fourth floor as a stitch burned through his side, and he took the rest of them breathing rather heavily and ignoring the giggles of a gaggle of Ravenclaw students who saw him panting on the sixth floor.

McGonagall was right. He had to be careful, so the Gryffindor Common Room was a no go unless he wanted to stay up ridiculously late and everywhere else in the castle was too easy for Umbridge to hear him. No, the one place he could rely on was the Room of Requirement. The place was starting to become a second home to him at Hogwarts, to the point that it felt strange when he opened the door not to see the room frequented by the DA. Instead of cushions and bookshelves, he found himself in a room that looked oddly similar to the Common Room. There was a roaring fire and the same cosy armchairs and sofas from his favourite spot by the fire.

He sank happily into the nearest armchair and pulled the package from his pocket. Feverishly he unwrapped it and saw a small mirror, no larger than his forearm. A sudden wash of nerves crashed over him. What if Sirius didn't answer? Maybe there was a meeting, he could be busy? These nerves evaporated almost as soon as they had come when, after tapping the mirror as instructed, Sirius' face appeared before him. His godfather beamed.

"Harry! I was wondering when you'd call."

"Hi Sirius," Harry grinned, clutching the mirror and staring enraptured at it and his godfather. It was Sirius. Really Sirius. Any feeling of isolation or loneliness that had crept into the corners of his mind since returning to Hogwarts vanished as he looked upon his godfather's smiling face. "Sorry, McGonagall only just gave it to me. She probably didn't want to make Umbridge suspicious."

"Yes, I've heard about her." Sirius said darkly, the smile fading. "They told me what that toad's been making you do in detention."

Harry felt his right hand clench around the handle of the mirror. The words 'I must not tell lies' chalk white and engraved into his skin were cast into light by the roaring fire.

"If it were up to me I'd make her wish she'd never been born," Sirius continued, "but Minnie tells me you'd rather suffer than give her the upperhand."

"Minnie?"

"Minerva," Sirius clarified, "she hates it when I call her that."

Harry grinned, trying to imagine anyone being able to get away with calling Minerva McGonagall 'Minnie' to her face and getting away with it.

"And yeah, I would. Besides, it's fine."

"You're carving words into your hand, Harry," Sirius said, as calmly as he could despite his image clearly shaking with suppressed rage.

"I'm not getting in detention with her anymore," Harry argued, "and anyway she's leaving us alone at the moment. She's more worried about trying to kick out Trelawney."

"You wait 'til Hagrid gets back, it'll be a fight between the two of them. She hates 'half-breeds', doesn't she? And there's no bigger half-breed than Hagrid. You can't miss him."

"Where is Hagrid?"

"No idea," Sirius answered and when Harry looked sceptical he added, "really. Molly isn't here right now, Harry, so trust me I really don't know. Dumbledore's keeping it top secret, wherever he is. Probably so if one of us is captured we can't reveal where the other ones are. I only know Remus' talking to werewolves because he tells me. Not that you're to go repeating that to Ron or Hermione, he'd kill me if he knew I'd told you."

"That's who he's trying to recruit? Is that why he looks so tired all the time?"

"Umbridge made it pretty difficult for him or any other werewolves to get a job, didn't she? So Voldemort is trying to convince them to join his side seeing as how the world's forgotten them and they're pretty happy to do it too. Greyback's already got plenty of supporters, but Remus is doing his best. I've not seen him for a week, actually."

The delight that had been so clear in his voice at being able to talk to Harry suddenly wavered as his eyes went dark and his jaw clenched.

"So is it just you and Kreacher?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. Being cooped with Kreacher would be Sirius' idea of hell.

"Mad-Eye stops by occasionally, Tonks too. Nowhere near as much as when you were here, obviously. Molly's a better cook for one thing and we're pretty sure Tonks is being watched, same with Kingsley. Mad-Eye gets away with it 'cause everyone already thinks he's a nutter anyway."

"Well, I'll be back for Christmas," Harry said in a bid to cheer his godfather up. He hated seeing Sirius like this and knew all too well how he was feeling. The summer alone in Privet Drive, with no owls, no news, no magic, it had driven him insane.

"Yeah," Sirius muttered glumly, clearly aware that it was still over a month until then. "Best get this place sorted at some point."

"We were cleaning it all summer!"

"And there's still loads left. This house is going to be the death of me," Sirius glowered, before asking, "how's everything going with your defence club?"

"It's good actually," Harry said, "we've had a few lessons already. People are picking stuff up quickly too, at this rate we'll run out of stuff to do by Easter."

"When you're here over Christmas I can teach you a thing or two, if you like? I reckon Tonks or Kingsely could probably get me the auror training books. It's been a while since I last looked at it, must've changed a bit since my day."

"You were an auror?" Harry asked, stunned and wondering why Sirius had never mentioned it before. Whenever they had talked it was usually about his parents or what was going on at Hogwarts. Sirius, Harry had noticed, rarely liked to dwell on his life before Azkaban. Not that Harry could blame him. It'd be like looking back at a life he'd forgotten he lived. A potential future Pettigrew had robbed him off.

"Haven't I told you? Your dad was too, before he went into hiding that is. We went through training together. Mad-Eye hated us apparently. Can't imagine why." He smirked and Harry snorted with laughter. "Taught us some good stuff though, I'll see if I can get a room set up here and we can practice."

"That'd be great," said Harry excitedly.

"Not that your lot'll be able to keep up with everything, of course. It's pretty complex stuff. They'll probably struggle, but it's good to be prepared. No doubt Hermione'll learn it all in a week."

"She's burning through everything I'm giving her. A few of them are. Fred and George, Daph, Ron's doing pretty well too.

"Speaking of," Sirius' smirk grew somehow wider, "what's this I hear about you teaching Slytherins?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? That it?"

"It is if you're going to tell me I shouldn't," Harry said simply, he was starting to get sick of the amount of people who were silently judging him for taking on Daphne and Tracey. The rest of the DA, welcoming as they had been, were not accepting of them. Surprisingly, Neville was the most tolerant of them outside of Ron, Hermione and Luna Lovegood, who had commented airily that the 'Nargles like them' and apparently that was enough.

"Not at all, but I would say be careful."

"Because most Slytherins go dark, and because most of your family were in Slytherin?" said Harry quietly, knowing there was at least some truth in his words. It wasn't completely true, Daphne and Tracey were proving that, but it was hard to ignore the sheer amount of dark witches and wizards from the house of the snake.

"My family were in Slytherin because no other house would have them," Sirius corrected, "besides Andromeda was in Slytherin and she turned out alright. Sure, I hated them at school, but any snake who will willingly learn lessons from you is good in my book. No I want you to be careful with one of them in particular. What do you know about Elijah Greengrass?"

"Who?"

"Her dad," Sirius said, his eyes searching Harry's face for an answer. When he got none, he sighed. "I don't know how to tell you this, Harry."

"What is it?"

"Elijah Greengrass was a Death Eater," Sirius confessed gravely. Harry felt as if the world had been pulled out from under him. Daphne's father, a Death Eater? Daphne, the girl who hated Malfoy for his pureblood posturing and arrogance, who despised looking down on muggleborns. Her father was a Death Eater? No. He couldn't be. He'd not been there in that graveyard. Surely, if he really was, he would have?

"Killed himself a few years after Voldemort disappeared. No-one's really sure why. The Greengrasses have kept quiet about it, suicide's not exactly regarded as a good way out among purebloods. They think it wastes good blood."

"If he was a Death Eater," Harry said slowly, his brain still reeling, "how come she wants to be…" He couldn't bring himself to say 'friends', but that is what they were. Weren't they?

"I don't know, Harry." Sirius said quietly, any trace of a smile missing from his suddenly serious face. "What I do know is her mother's a piece of work, she'd give mine a run for her money apparently. She voted in favour of Umbridge's bill to get werewolves banned from work. I'm not saying Daphne's like that," he said quickly when Harry looked disgusted, "but it would be good not to let her in too quickly."

"Right," was all Harry could manage to say. He had never heard Daphne talk about her parents, her home, anything. Now he got the feeling he knew why. How could she not have said anything? He'd defended her, to everyone and she was… what? Just waiting around to kill him, finish what her Death Eater father had started; or maybe her mother had set up as a spy for Umbridge if they were such good friends.

What did he really know about Daphne?

"I'm sure she's not," Sirius said, but Harry wasn't really listening, he was too busy imagining what Daphne could really be up to. "Minerva and Remus said she was a good kid, in fact Remus said I probably shouldn't tell you. Maybe he's right. I just want you to be careful."

"I know," was all Harry could manage to say. Then, when the rest of his brain caught up with his mouth, he added. "Thanks. Listen, Sirius, I'd better go."

Thankfully Sirius had the decency not to push it. "Sure, same time next week?"

"Yeah, sure." Harry said numbly. "See you."

"See you later, kiddo."

Sirius' face vanished and Harry was alone, left with the ornate hand mirror and a thousand questions running around his head. And to think, a few days ago he'd set Fred and George on Malfoy for her. No, for Tracey. She had only been friends with Daphne recently too, she was nothing to do with this, was she? And what even was this anyway?

The night claimed the day before Harry left the Room of Requirement. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the Common Room, but he muttered a lame excuse about feeling tired and having a headache and went to bed. He didn't sleep, but when Ron came in half an hour later he lay there with his eyes firmly shut and said nothing to his best friend.

"Is he alright?" it was Ron's voice, hushed but still audible in the quiet of the dorm room.

"Think so," that was Dean.

"He didn't say anything," Neville added. "Just got into bed. I think he's asleep."

"Who cares?" Seamus asked spitefully from furthest away. Harry felt his fist clench, but stayed still, his heart hammering against his chest. He was not in the mood to deal with Seamus.

"Shove off, Seamus. No-one asked you." Ron snapped angrily, Seamus spluttered like he wanted to object but before he had chance Ron was speaking again. "One more word and I'll put you in detention."

There was a long silence then a swish of curtains being pulled closed as Seamus, out-numbered three to one, crawled back into his bed. Nobody said anything else as the rest of the boys got into bed and one by one fell asleep. It took Harry a lot longer to get to sleep, he debated waking Ron and dragging him downstairs to talk about it but what if he was wrong? What if Daphne was just a normal kid, like she'd always said she was and just wanted to learn? If he put thoughts about her being a Death Eater in Ron's head, it would take a lot longer to get out of there than his own. No, he needed to talk to Daphne. Sirius was right, he had to be careful, but he wasn't going to be like Seamus either and believe everything he heard just because it was easier to.

The girl he thought he knew wasn't a Death Eater or some Umbridge supporter. He just hoped she was that girl and not what Sirius thought she could be.