The Broken Boy

by behindthealias

Young Harry Potter is endowed with the power to recall the dead and manipulate the strange currents of magic. The spirits take a liking to him and he embarks on a quest to protect himself and to find the love that he had been deprived of for too long.

20. Chapter 20

Despite the capture of Peter Pettigrew and Harry's anonymous tip, momentum with the Prophet stagnated and nobody seemed to be interested in speculating what the ministry would do. Admittedly, the cause was likely partly the public's reluctance to change their minds about Sirius Black and partly Rita Skeeter's silence on the matter. Harry supposed that in light of the legal action he took against her, the horrible woman was lying low for a while. Still, and he hated to admit it, Rita's work was the sleazy stuff that attracted readers like flies and he needed it if he wanted public support for Sirius's innocence. Without the proper public outcry, the ministry might not do anything at all except throw Pettigrew in Azkaban to be forgotten. Harry's thoughts were thus occupied when he and Draco arrived at Malfoy Manor for the holidays.

"You'll probably hate the charity ball," Draco said, arms crossed petulantly over his chest. "It's full of stuffy old adults who don't care a jot about the charities we're supporting and only attend to throw their weight around."

"I wouldn't know," Harry said, shrugging, "I've never been to a ball." The pair lay sprawled in the middle of Harry's room staring up at the snow falling gently on the glass dome.

"Get up, Potter," Draco said, rolling to his feet.

"What for?"

"I'm teaching you how to dance, duh," he replied, smirking. "We can't have you disgracing the Malfoy name by being a disaster on the dance floor."

As it turned out, Draco was an excellent dance master and by the end of it, Harry was too exhausted to even be embarrassed about dancing with him. Draco twirled his way out of Harry's room, narrowly dodging a pillow that he chucked after him. The day of the charity ball arrived and Harry forced himself to smile politely at every dignitary and wealthy socialite that came his way. To his surprise, however, the Minister of Magic himself ambled up to him.

"Mr. Potter!" the minister greeted, extending a pudgy hand for Harry to shake.

"Hello Prime Minister Fudge, sir. It's nice to meet you."

"Please call me Mr. Fudge. I'm very glad we are meeting on such a joyous occasion. I had heard that the Malfoys took you in. The rumors must be true since you're here. How are they treating you? Quite well, I hope."

"They are very kind, sir, just as the magical world has been very kind to me." The minister preened in a way that made Harry want to vomit, but he smiled anyway. As the minister prattled on about how much he's done for the wizarding public, Harry noticed a distinct burning on his right index finger. He didn't see Rita anywhere, but things like magically binding restraining orders don't lie. Following the thin thread of magic attached to his finger, he eventually found a bright green beetle latched onto a floating refreshments tray. As it passed by him Harry grabbed the lot, stunned the beetle, and handed the tray to the Minister, who started picking hors d'oeuvres off of it without even noticing Harry slipping away. Safely locked away in his room, Harry revived the beetle and watched with smug satisfaction as the bug turned back into Rita Skeeter.

"You! I'll charge you with assault, stunning me like that." She turned and scuttled towards the door, blonde curls bouncing to the clack of her heels. Lazily, Harry moved a heavy wardrobe in front of the door and levitated another chair behind Rita, knocking her off of her feet and scooping her into her seat. He brought her to a jarring halt back in front of him, conjuring a seat for himself and a table bedecked with food. Rita, stunned into silence, took in Harry's relaxed posture with narrowed eyes.

"What do you want with me? I violated the restraining order. Aren't you going to turn me in?" Harry only arched an eyebrow and lifted a teacup to his lips. Rita crossed her arms, clearly confused.

"I'm an unregistered animagus. You'll turn me in for that, won't you?" Harry sighed, set down his teacup, and crossed his arms, mirroring her posture. Understanding crossed Rita's features.

"You want something from me and you know I can't say no with all you have on me."

"Oh no, Rita, that would be blackmail," Harry said at last.

"You're cheeky," Rita said, frustratedly dropping sugar into her tea. "I almost feel bad for all the smear campaigns I was planning on running against you."

"I brought you here to give you work," Harry said. "You've heard of Peter Pettigrew's arrest?"

"Pfft. Who hasn't? He came back fom the dead and attacked you in your bed at school."

"You also know he was the one who betrayed my parents?" Rita's eyes widened incrementally.

"That's what some people think, but nobody wants to end the witch hunt against Sirius Black. I was thinking about writing something about it after we got a tip about it, but my editor told me to back off of you and stop taking so much heat after last summer's fiasco. That awful Fenetre got the gig instead and blew it. Who names themselves after a window, anyway?"

"Well, what if I were to tell you that I was the one who tipped the Prophet in the first place?"

"That changes things. You want the media to dig up dirt your family history?" Harry grabbed a scroll off of the table and unrolled it. Rita watched with quiet curiosity as Harry tore his restraining order in half.

"Call it a sign of good faith. I've spoken to my lawyer about it already. I want you to find out the truth about who betrayed my parents. I would have written you a letter, but then you had to crash this ball."

"I couldn't resist. I always crash the ball one way or another. I didn't think you'd be here."

"I happen to live here. You're in my room. Didn't you notice?" Rita looked around, finally noticing the distinct lack of Slytherin green the rest of the house seemed to be smothered in.

"They adopted you? The rumors were true, but they're never true! I thought they would never take in a Gryffindor, let alone the boy who destroyed their master."

"'They' happen to be my family, Rita. You don't know as much as you think you do." Rita pouted and produced a notepad and quill.

"No quick-quotes quill?"

"Heard about that, did you? Cheeky. No, I can sense you mean real business. I'll write if that's what you want, but you'll have to call off that lawyer of yours and send a note to my editor. All in confidence, of course. Rita Skeeter never gives up her sources."

"Hm, well all I can tell you for now is that Peter Pettigrew is the real Death Eater who betrayed my parents. He has a dark mark, Sirius Black doesn't. Sirius was never given a trial and Peter's has been pushed back into the far reaches of Ministry administrative hell with no signs of moving anywhere."

"So if I'm to do this, I'm risking quite a lot," Rita said, nibbling on the end of her quill. Harry could almost see her mentally sizing up the risks and benefits.

"If you follow this far enough, you could take down some pretty big fish. Think of what setting an innocent man free could do for your reputation, Rita. Not a tabloid reporter, but a serious seeker of justice." Harry let that sit and dangle in front of her nose for a moment.

"I'll do it," Rita said after a pause, snapping her notepad shut.

"Good. Keep me updated. You'll get that note from my lawyer soon." As Rita got up to leave, Harry stopped her.

"What was your first animagus transformation like?" Harry tried to look only mildly interested, but Rita saw right through it.

"My dear, it was like I was never human at all."

Rita delivered and within the next week, her article hit the front page and made every wizarding household balk over breakfast.

"Ministry's Black Herring: Innocent Man Jailed Covering Ministry Mishaps?" Narcissa set down her morning tea and looked to Lucius, who took the paper from her and read quickly, eyes darting over the page.

"Harry, when you had Solicitor Lawson terminate the restraining order, did you mean to give Skeeter permission to write this?" Harry set his fork down and smiled.

"Yes, I did. I knew something was wrong with this whole thing when Peter attacked me at school, so I asked Rita to dig up some dirt on it for me. That red herring pun's a bit of a stretch, though. I would have gone with scapegoat myself."

"Harry, why didn't you ask us for help?" Lucius put down his paper and Draco snatched it up, looking equally worried.

"I didn't want to get you in trouble. You all get enough flak about being dark wizards. I figured I would do it myself. And what if Sirius really was innocent? I was afraid-"

"Harry, you never need to be afraid to tell us anything, you understand?" Narcissa said, moving to sit next to Harry and Draco. "Sirius is my cousin and he's my family. I cut ties with him to protect this family, but if he's innocent, we can help him because he is still flesh and blood. Harry, are you sure?"

"Yes. He came to me at school and told me everything. I'm sorry! I know I should have told you or a teacher, but with everybody looking for him, I didn't know what else to do." It was in this rapid succession of guilty confessions that lead to Lucius opening the door in the dead of night to admit Sirius the dog.

"See? Told you he'd make it," Harry said trotting over to pet Sirius on the head, shortly before he turned back into a man.

"How did you get here without a broom, wand, or floo powder?" Lucius pointed a wand outside and then shut the door quickly as if he was certain people from the ministry would swarm his house at any second.

"I sort of jury-rigged a portkey," Harry said slyly. Lucius looked more exasperated by the minute. The family met with Solicitor Lawson in the sitting room, the Malfoys on one side of the room looking intently at Sirius, who sat on the other side, awkwardly fumbling with an empty cup of tea. Solicitor Lawson paced by the fire, slowly going mad with panic. Harry and Draco listened in on the conversation from behind a door frame.

"You're lucky you pay me so well, Lucius. Anyone else would have packed up and left for a foreign country."

"Can't possibly be as bad as the time I was in prison for being a suspected death eater," Lucius quipped.

"Hm, yes, especially since you were a death eater, darling," Narcissa chuckled.

"Right, yeah, good times. I wish I could remember how nice that was because I was delirious for most of it." Lawson did not look appeased.

"Um, if I may," Sirius started, startling everyone, "I'd like to thank you for-for hearing me out. I, uh, I know I don't deserve it after the way I treated you, especially you, cousin. I can see that you did what you had to in order to survive back then. If you hadn't, you'd probably be dead now."

"Please, Sirius," Lucius said as Narcissa filled Sirius's teacup again, "whatever our political differences were, we can all agree that the way things turned to bloodshed in the end wasn't right. Politics should be played out on the Ministry floor, not the battlefield, and certainly not in the homes of the wizarding public. We lost so many in the war, the Blacks included. We can't afford to be vengeful."

"Even so, I'm so sorry I've put you all at risk being here. I was going to kill Pettigrew and spend the rest of my life in prison, but then Harry convinced me to give freedom a try."

"Got to you too, did he?" Lucius asked, smirking. "He's a special boy." Lucius rolled up his sleeve and bared his naked forearm.

"He did that?"

"Indeed. He's very talented for his age." Sirius cleared his throat, clearly remembering the night Harry had him pinned to the inside of a giant bell. Satisfied that Sirius was making amends with the Malfoys, Harry turned away from the scene and sagged against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Harry, why didn't you tell me any of this?" Draco's eyebrows hadn't unfurled since that morning.

"Draco, please. I didn't know what else to do. It wasn't just you, I didn't tell anybody about this. I didn't want you to get hurt." Draco buried his face in his hands and sighed.

"I know, I know. That's the kind of thing you always say and I can't be mad at you because it's so damn noble. I wish you would let me help you." Draco looked up at Harry, a hurt expression on his face that made Harry want to cry.

"I will next time. I'm sorry. It's just-I'm not used to-"

"Yeah I know," Draco interjected, clapping a hand to Harry's shoulder. "It's not your fault, mate."

"I will tell you next time, Draco. I promise."

When the winter holidays came to an end, Harry returned to Hogwarts with all eyes watching him. Rita's crusade against the ministry drew public support like wildfire and the ministry immediately launched an investigation on Sirius's case.

"As it turns out, the aurors in charge of Sirius's case resigned just after he was sent to jail. They haven't been seen since," Hermione said, mouth quirked in a way that meant she was thinking too hard.

"You're sure Sirius is innocent, Harry?" Ron asked, peeling the newspaper out of Hermione's hands.

"Absolutely. He didn't try to hurt me when he found me. He just wanted Scabbers." Ron looked like he thought about it for a minute and shrugged.

"Welp, good enough for me."

The very next day, McGonagall invited Harry up to her office. His lessons with McGonagall were productive and Harry got the feeling that he was very close to achieving his animagus transformation.

"I'm really very impressed with your progress, Harry," McGonagall said. "You've almost made it. I'm sure you're a bird of some sort, and quite a large one, too." Harry'd taken the potion, completed the incantations, and even started the morphing process, but couldn't manage the full transformation yet.

"I thought I would have done it by now," Harry huffed.

"Nonsense, Potter," McGonagall said, handing him a biscuit. "If you'd managed to do it in under a year, I would have eaten my hat. Any faster and you might hurt yourself. It's not fun being stuck in a half-transformed state."

"Be careful, I heard hats are rich in fiber, but I'd transfigure it into something more flavorful if I were you," Harry said, crossing his arms.

"Are you sassing your professor?" Harry winked mischievously at her and grinned. McGonagall smiled, her smile lines showing beautifully on her face. The expression slipped from her features, however.

"Harry, I've been meaning to talk to you about Sirius Black."

"They say he's innocent," Harry said, looking down at his hands.

"Do you think so?" Harry nodded his head.

"I did some research and figured some things didn't make sense."

"Yes, a lot of things don't. It makes an old woman dare to hope that the sweet boy who once sat in this office where you sit now didn't betray his friends."

"You're not the only one," he said.

"You know he's your godfather," McGonagall said. "If he's really innocent, you might get the chance to live with him. He was supposed to take care of you if anything happened to your parents." Harry sighed.

"I know, but I have a family now. I just want to know the truth and maybe save an innocent man from going back to prison."

"I respect that, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said with a nod of approval.

"Ahem, if you believe anything in the news," Harry began, "do you think you can let me go with the others to Hogsmeade the next time there's a trip?"

"Oh you've only gone and ruined the moment," McGonagall sighed, "but alright on the condition that either an auror or a teacher agree to go with you." Harry beamed.

The atmosphere around Hogwarts was thick with anticipation and it wasn't long before the wizarding public began demanding the removal of Albus Dumbledore. Harry also noticed an increased auror presence on school grounds, particularly wherever he went. His time-turner use made tailing him particularly difficult for the aurors and particularly amusing to him and Hermione, who joined in on making a game of keeping the aurors on edge. One auror, however, consistently managed to get caught without Harry's help, mostly by breaking things and running headlong into him. On one such occasion, she tried following Harry to Herbology by taking a higher route and managed to trip over her own cloak and fall over a railing. Harry saw the impending disaster coming and managed to catch her just in time. Harry set her down and she poked him several times, remarking, "You're quite strong for your size, aren't you?"

"Dammit Tonks, you've done it again!" A voice cried. A tall, overly muscular man with a choppy haircut trudged up to them fuming. Tonks snapped to attention.

"Tonks, we assigned you to Harry because you're not too far out of school and you scored the highest on Concealment and Disguise, but you are too damn clumsy. Don't touch the mark, trainee!"

"Dawlish, sir!" Tonks cried, "I'm sorry! I was trying to follow, but I didn't see the railing and-"

"You know what, sir," Harry interrupted, much to Tonks's surprise, "I didn't even notice her following me. I cast this confundus jinx thing that would hit anyone trying to follow me because that other bloke you had on me, that guy with the mole on his chin, I kept seeing him out of the corner of my eye and figured I'd pull a prank on him. It's my fault. Please don't punish her because I was being stupid." Tonks broke attention to stare open-mouthed at Harry.

"In any case, Mr. Potter, Ms. Tonks should have known that such a jinx was in effect when she started shadowing you. Trainee, I'm going to let you go this time, but you need to pull yourself together." Dawlish trudged away and when he was out of sight, Tonks squealed and jump-hugged Harry.

"Harry that was awesome! Thank you so much for doing that."

"Hey, no problem. That guy sounded like he had a stick up his ass." Tonks looked scandalized. Harry shrugged. "What? I'm thirteen!" Tonks's brown hair turned pink at that point and she explained that it did that when she was happy. From then on, Tonks didn't bother trying to hide from Harry unless Dawlish was around.

"You mean you're Sirius's cousin? Isn't that a conflict of interest?" Harry asked her one day at lunch. He was studying alone in a courtyard and Tonks was sitting on the other side of a column that obscured her from view of the castle.

"Nah, the magical world's a close-marrying crowd. The ministry stopped worrying about tenuous family connections after the war. Not enough aurors to be picky, you know? We're so shorthanded, they sent a trainee like me here to tail you. Even last year, the basilisk was an all-hands-on-deck situation and they had to bring me along even though it was my first year in training."

"You were there?" Harry was suddenly self conscious.

"Yeah." Tonks peeked around the pillar separating them. "Listen, I'm glad you made it out of that."

"Yeah, me too."

"That was pretty badass, though. I couldn't believe the size of the thing. How did you kill it anyway? The other aurors talk about it all the time. Half of them want your autograph and the other half want to take you on as their trainee."

"What do they think happened?"

"Well the reports say the thing managed to get He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and he bled out after he temporarily incapacitated the basilisk. Then, you ran backwards casting some pretty advanced blasting curses for your age. When it cornered you, you found Godric Gryffindor's sword and you lost it, presumably because you were bleeding too much to keep a hold on it. Then, you managed to get a blasting curse into the basilisk's mouth, which is pretty incredible except that, you know, you got impaled."

"Then that's exactly how it went," Harry said, chuckling.

"Well that's what the reports say, but your wand ended up like six feet away from you without any basilisk blood on it and the basilisk's insides were liquified. The sword was also weird because it looked more like you threw it away deliberately. What's more, some of the curses we found on the body our vets haven't even heard of. It's hard to tell who cast what, but most of the advanced curses were cast after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went down."

"Maybe I got lucky? I dunno I barely remember what happened, what with the catastrophic blood loss. What did they even do with the basilisk's corpse, anyway?"

"Oh actually, Snape recently got ministry approval to dissect it and harvest it for potions ingredients. The ministry is overseeing the disposal of any unused hazardous material and you will naturally be getting the proceeds from the sale of the carcass since you killed it. Basilisk skin, venom, fangs, and eyes are all regulated substances and handling them must be overseen by the ministry. The department in charge was going to go through your lawyer to get you the money, but it's going to take Snape a really long time to finish processing the body. It's super huge, after all." It explained where Snape went whenever Lupin took over his private lessons. Harry decided he'd pop into the chamber unannounced one day just to scare Snape and maybe help him out with the dissection.

That same week, Tonks followed him to one of his training sessions with Lupin. Up until that point, Harry had managed to throw off every auror following him with the time turner. Lupin upgraded the training course and charged Harry with blasting through enchanted wood dummies. He would hit the long range dummies with a blasting curse off of one hand and the closer ones he would punch into smithereens with the sheer force of his shielded fists. It was tricky business and Harry had to start over every time a long range dummy got him with a curse or a short range dummy thwacked him in the ribs.

"Oh, come on!" Harry whined as a short range dummy got him for the sixth time that day. "These things hurt!" He took off his ruined shirt to reveal a smattering of purple bruises all across his abdomen.

"So do real curses thrown by real people who want to kill you, Harry!" Lupin said, manically flicking his wand, moving more dummies around. "Besides, this is nothing compared to that week we tried duelling Flitwick without wands." When Harry finally finished the course without getting hit, Harry's celebratory cheer was interrupted by a spectacular crash accompanied with a colorful assortment of curses.

"Holy shit, Harry!" Tonks said, picking herself up from the pile of discarded dummies she fell into. Harry scrambled down from the obstacle course and tried his best to look decent, but it was clear his cover was blown. A few minutes later, Lupin and Harry sat Tonks down on a log and explained everything.

"You mean to tell me that you're some sort of magical genius and you can effortlessly cast wandless magic and you're getting trained to literally kick ass? I'm done. Just take my job. Ugh Harry, why am I even here?" Tonks's hair was a curious shade of red.

"You're here because I've had attempts on my life every year since I got here."

"You're practically superhuman, Harry. This is insane you're only thirteen."

"It's perfectly safe, Ms. Tonks," Lupin said suddenly. "We watch him carefully and we pace him so we don't do more than his body can handle." Tonks appeared only vaguely appeased.

"Since you have such an interesting skill set," Tonks said after her hair had calmed down to her usual pink, "I'm guessing taking down the basilisk went differently than the reports say, huh?"

"No, it went mostly how it says in the report," Harry huffed. "I started casting any spell I could come up with at it after Voldemort managed to get its eyes. I got hit by its tail and I got thrown and cut deep, probably broke a few ribs. You know what, that's probably how I broke my leg. I tossed my wand and started casting wandlessly because my wand was too slow. Voldemort tried having a go at me, didn't see the basilisk coming, and bailed after he got bit. When the basilisk got up close to me, it bit my shoulder as I was casting. I had one arm stuck down its throat, so I cast turbinis straight through it, which is why, you know-"

"The basilisk's insides turned into soup."

"Yeah." As Harry described what happened, Lupin slowly turned white, scanning Harry up and down as if the wounds would suddenly appear with each word.

"So you cast all those crazy spells no one's ever heard of?" Tonks was still rubbing her temples trying to get her mind wrapped around everything Harry was telling her.

"Yep."

"So why all the secrecy?" Tonks asked, squinting at both Lupin and Harry.

"Well if everyone knew I was 'badass,' as you say, it would make me a bigger target."

"Yes," Lupin said, clearing his throat. "It's much safer that the magical world think Harry is an average student or he might seem like a threat." Tonks quieted again and then snapped her head around to look at Harry.

"Why did you throw away the sword? Everyone's wondering why you threw away the sword." Harry huffed and ran a hand through his hair. Lupin and Tonks wore matching, expectant expressions watching him

"You know how the ministry questioned Dumbledore because it was suspected that he knew all about the chamber and didn't do anything about it? Well, I saw the sword and Fawkes and I was furious, so I threw it away."

"So Dumbledore knew?"

"I don't know anything, okay? Dumbledore's just done a lot to make me suspicious of him and I was in a tight spot! I could barely hold onto it because, again, there was blood everywhere. I don't even know how to use a sword! Well, now I do, but that's beside the point." By the end of the conversation, Tonks had sworn not to tell the world that Harry was a badass. When Tonks left, Lupin sighed and looked more tired than ever.

"What?" Harry asked as he spelled himself clean.

"I read about what happened here last year, but I never imagined..." Lupin trailed off, eyes haunted.

"It's okay. I'm sitting here, aren't I?"

"Nobody should go through something like that. I know you know what you're doing. You really know what you're doing. It's just that I'm having a hard time remembering that you're the adorable baby Lily sent me pictures of, that James's baby had to go up against a basilisk. If they were alive, I just know they would be hurting knowing that you've gone through so much, that you were lying in the chamber of secrets all alone with your lifeblood pouring out of you."

Harry swallowed thickly, remembering his conversation with McGonagall. "Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like, you know, if they were alive. I can't really imagine it." Lupin reached out and held Harry close. When they parted, Lupin looked at Harry with a curious expression.

"You know, your dad went through this school collecting misfits like me and Sirius. They were like the family that I never had. The day your parents got married was the happiest in all our lives and when you were born, it was like we were getting another little marauder. You were a cheeky little baby and you were always getting out of the crib, setting things on fire, and riding this cute little broom around the house." The conversation went on like this and Harry didn't even care that the sky was darkening.

"Harry," Lupin started haltingly after a while. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you. I'm a werewolf."

"I know," Harry said, grinning.

"You what?" Remus's eyes popped wide open and his hair seemed to bristle.

"Yeah, I know and I don't care one bit. I think it's awesome."

"You know, your dad said the same thing when I told him."

"Yeah, well, you're rubbish at hiding it."

"He said that too." Lupin examined his shoes, still flustered.

"I think Hermione knows too," Harry said.

"I figured. I took one look at her on the train and knew she'd be my downfall." They fell quiet again.

"Hey how would you feel about chaperoning me on the next Hogsmeade visit?" Harry asked suddenly. "McGonagall says I need a teacher with me. I'll buy you ice cream."

"You're on, Potter."

Harry figured out when Snape's free hour was, whipped out his time turner, and made his way down to the chamber. While the hole had been boarded up, Harry noticed that the planks were new and were recently moved and the security charms placed around the hole were newly cast. When he reached the chamber, he could hear the distinct bubbling of a potions cauldron and the quiet scraping of a scalpel on flesh. What he didn't expect to see, however, was Snape wrapped up in something that looked like a hazmat suit complete with goggles and face mask. He was apparently in the middle of skinning the carcass and Harry was met with the ghoulish sight of the basilisk's head with half the skin peeled away.

"Wicked," Harry said, dropping his satchel to the ground. Snape dropped his tools and yelped, jumping at Harry's voice.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Snape said, angrily pulling the face mask away from his mouth. "What are you doing down here? This place is off limits."

"That auror Tonks told me you were down here and I figured you could use the help." Harry looked around the room properly for the first time and realized that Snape had lit up the room with a free floating lumos. It was as grimy and gaudy as he remembered, but the stark white light produced by Snape's spell made the place seem more theatrical.

"The aurors didn't clean up this place very well," Harry observed. The floor was still strewn with scraps of paper and tape marking points of interest, including where the basilisk bit Voldemort, where the sorting hat was found, and a rather morbid Harry-shaped outline where he fell complete with his own blood still caked onto the stone. Snape caught him staring at it and moved quickly to block it from view, plastic smock crunching with every step.

"Harry, you don't have to be here," Snape said, gently taking Harry by the shoulders with his ungloved hands. Harry smiled at him.

"Oh come one, professor. Look at the size of this thing. It'll take you til next year to process the whole thing. Besides, I feel personally responsible for making you work too hard. I did kill it, after all."

"Yes, and it almost killed you." Snape stopped and thought for a moment, judging Harry's reaction to the chamber. "You're sure none of this bothers you?"

"No, not at all. I used to sleep on a cot covered in my own blood, remember?"

"I almost wish you were bothered. Fine, smock on, gloves on and shielded, face mask at all times. Understood?" With the help of the time turner, Harry spent his usual revisions with Snape down in the chamber, elbow deep in basilisk carcass, which had to be held together with magic because Harry had done so well in eviscerating its insides. It wasn't long before Malfoy found out about it, however, and Snape had no choice but to allow him to join in as well.

"Don't touch the fangs," Snape snapped, more serious than usual. "I will handle those myself. They are very dangerous and the two of you are liable to get yourselves killed touching them."

"Ugh I don't know how you two have been working in here with the stink of that thing and the stink of whatever it is you're brewing over there," Malfoy groused.

"It's wolfsbane potion for Lupin," Harry said, looking up from where he was cleaning a strip of basilisk skin.

"Oh I see," Draco said, pulling on his smock. "That must taste awful judging from the smell."

"How on earth do you two know about Professor Lupin's condition?" Snape asked from where he was extracting teeth.

"Pfft everyone who matters knows," Draco huffed. "Granger, all of the Weasleys, Pansy, and Blaise all know about it. Wasn't that hard to put together since the man disappears once a month." Snaps looked agonized even under all the protective gear.

"Nobody seems to care so far, professor," Harry said, still scraping flesh off of the basilisk skin. "Hermione was about to make a fuss over it, but we reminded her werewolves had rights too, since Lupin's the first decent defense teacher we've ever had and, you know, it's not like he asked to be a werewolf." Snape grumbled something about the shrieking shack and asked no one in particular why he was the only one out of the loop about these things before cursing life debts as he carried on extracting teeth. Harry and Malfoy shrugged and went back to work.

As March rolled around, the wizarding public demanded answers regarding Sirius Black. The ministry was pressured by a group of influential witches and wizards headed by Lucius Malfoy to release records of his arrest. The two aurors in charge of the case were found to be hiding in Bulgaria of all places and could not be extradited at the risk of starting a diplomatic incident. Barty Crouch Sr. was revealed to be the official who gave the order to imprison Black without a trial. The bit in the morning paper that made everybody raise an eyebrow, however, was that Crouch's decision was influenced entirely by the advice of Albus Dumbledore, head of the Wizengamot.

"Bloody Hell, Harry," Ron said through a mouth full of toast. Harry was getting tired of hearing that phrase.

"For once, I agree, Harry," Hermione said, the two of them having made up since Scabbers was revealed to be a fat death eater. "I didn't know how Sirius could be innocent, but with all this, I'm more convinced."

"Yeah," Pansy said from Hermione's other side, "and look. The headmaster isn't here today. You know what that means. He's been taken to the ministry for questioning again." The two girls and Ron had their noses buried in that morning's Prophet. Hermione looked up to find Harry and Draco looking quite smug and unconcerned. In the chaos of the news breaking and Dumbledore's apparent absence, the school's usually well defined house-lines were suddenly blurred and the students sat wherever they wanted to.

"When has Harry ever steered you wrong, Granger, really," Draco sniffed, throwing an arm around Harry like some sort of yes-man. "He's an excellent judge of character."

Oliver wood entered the Great Hall and strode briskly over to Harry, who saw him coming and rose from the table.

"Sorry to cut this short, friends, but I have a quidditch game to warm up for and I must leave before my illustrious leader decides to carry me to the pitch over his shoulder." Harry then hopped over the table to stay out of Oliver's reach and made it all the way to the door before Oliver managed to catch up with him and did indeed throw Harry over his shoulder and carry him to the pitch. The game started easily enough and the day was even sunny. Next to him, the Ravenclaw seeker, a girl a year ahead of him called Cho Chang, blinked against the sunlight and smiled at him.

"It's a nice day for a game, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah, beautiful. Much better than the last game I played."

"That your broom?" Cho leaned on her own broom and eyed the pole Harry carried.

"Yeah, made it myself after my other broom bit the dust." Cho winced in sympathy.

"I saw that game. Your team pulled off some amazing maneuvers. I've never seen anyone catch the snitch so fast. Rough luck, though, so many dementors showing up out of nowhere." She shivered. "I hate those things."

Madame Hooch lead both teams out on the field and they kicked off soon after, cutting their conversation short. Harry saw the snitch right away, but as usual waited for the team to show off. The points were close this year despite their victory against Hufflepuff and the longer he waited, the more secure Oliver could feel about their victory. It was in everyone's best interests that Oliver stayed calm, so Harry waited. Cho, however, had no qualms about going after the snitch and turned out to be a pretty vicious flyer. Harry gave chase and, while he held back, found flying against Cho was like dueling on broomsticks. His fun ended abruptly, however, when a handful of dark figures stormed the airspace above the pitch, darkening the sky despite the weather and obscuring Harry and Cho from view.

Cho, who Harry allowed to get in front of him, saw the dementors first and screamed. The dementors surrounded the two of them and flew aggressively at the two seekers, clearly trying to seize Harry. Cho tried whacking one with the bristles of her broom and was unseated when the dementor retaliated. The crowd below gasped as Cho emerged screaming from the clouds. Harry kicked his broom into full gear and managed to catch Cho before she hit the ground. He dropped her on the pitch, out of breath and shaken, but unharmed.

"Th-thank you, Harry," she said, collapsing onto the grass as if she wanted to hug the earth and never let go of it again.

"Go get an auror," Harry said, mounting his broom again.

"Where are you going?" Cho's words were lost on him as Harry shot straight up into the air. The dementors followed him high into the sky and Harry outstripped them easily. When he was far enough from the pitch and could see the forbidden forest beneath him, he stopped, turned on them, and levelled his wand at the growing swarm of dementors that followed him.

"Expecto patronum," he muttered, his mother's last words ringing through his head. Something was different this time, however, and in the seconds before the incantation left his lips, he saw flashes of his parents' faces smiling down at him. White light, brighter than the sunlight blinding Harry's eyes, shot from his wand and something stood in front of him, a ghostly figure whose every step sent shockwaves of power coursing at the dementors. The dementors were persistent, however, and more of the dementor horde flew at the shield projected by his patronus. Harry kept up the spell as long as he could and before he exhausted himself, five aurors pulled up next to him mounted on brooms. They formed a protective circle around him and cast their own patronuses. White light radiated from their wands in more waves that managed to push the last of the dementors away.

"Harry, you still in one piece?" Tonks cried when the danger had passed.

"I'm okay!" Harry shouted back, out of breath, heart beating out of his chest. He looked around him and saw that Dawlish, Tonks, Proudfoot, another man he didn't recognize, and Shacklebolt of all people had come to save him.

"That was an impressive patronus, Mr. Potter," Dawlish drawled out in his sandpaper-like voice.

"That it was," Shacklebolt rumbled.

"You graduate from here, lad," Dawlish continued, "you sign up to be an auror. We'll whip you into shape and maybe you won't need us here to watch your sorry arse." The aurors cheered and laughed gamely. Tonks ruffled his hair as she passed him. They flew back to the castle in a protective formation in case more dementors showed up and landed in the quidditch pitch. Proudfoot, Tonks, and a man called Savage continued onward to track down the dementors. The crowd cheered as Harry landed and though the match ended in a draw because both seekers were unable to catch the snitch, Oliver and Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain, hoisted him onto their shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spied McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape in deep conversation with Shacklebolt and Dawlish, but couldn't make out a word they were saying. Harry put aside his curiosity and decided to just be thankful that, apart from Cho's lost broom, nobody was hurt at the end of the game and he managed to stay out of the hospital wing.

"I must say, Harry," Lupin said the next weekend, "you have had a rough season. What are the odds that two quidditch games in a row end with dementor attacks?"

"If you have my luck, the odds aren't that bad." Lupin had agreed to be Harry's chaperone for the latest Hogsmeade visit and Harry was enjoying his freedom. The castle was much too active since the quidditch game. Dumbledore returned to the castle awaiting a formal hearing, but the dementor attack left everyone on edge. It seemed Harry couldn't go anywhere without a throng of students staring at him and openly speculating what would happen as a result of the ministry's trials. Two camps emerged within the school, one believing Sirius's innocence, and one that didn't care one way or another and was only concerned for their personal freedoms. Justin Finch-Fletchly lead the latter group and held the stubborn opinion that Harry's connection to Sirius Black was putting them all in danger. During the latest Hogsmeade visit, however, Harry could think of nothing but the little cave he'd led Lupin to on the outskirts of town.

"Harry," Lupin muttered after some time, "Where exactly are we?" As soon as the question came out of his mouth, the answer appeared at the mouth of the cave. Lupin flinched instinctively to bring his wand out, but was stopped by Harry's firm grip on his arm and the appearance of a great number of wolves sitting in a rough perimeter around the cave. Harry stared at Lupin fiercely with the steely-eyed gaze that made the wolves guarding the clearing bow their heads deferentially to him and Lupin knew that the man standing before him was no danger to them. Sirius and Lupin stared at each other unmoving as if across decades and Harry stood in between them, arms crossed. After a few minutes, he rolled his eyes and started off towards Hogsmeade.

"Just talk it out, won't you?" the wolves parted to let him through and closed ranks once he passed. "I'll just be at Flourish and Blotts with Ron and Hermione under my invisibility cloak. All of your angst is making my hair stand on end." He pulled the invisibility cloak over his head and disappeared from view, but stayed long enough to see Lupin and Sirius embrace from a distance.

"Oy, Potter," Justin spat at him at breakfast the next morning, "why don't you go to Azkaban, since the dementors seem to like you so much. If they put you away, maybe the dementors will leave us alone." A few other people mumbled their agreement and nobody seemed to want to step up and say anything. Harry was about to leave the Great Hall when someone slammed a plate down on the table in front of Justin.

"How about you put a cork in it, Justin," Cho Chang snapped, taking a fork out of his hands and slamming that on the table too. "Who do you think you are to wish Azkaban upon someone else. That place is inhumane even for dangerous criminals and you must be one sick person to want anybody to go there. You think Harry asked for this? The dementors are attracted to him because of all the shit he went through protecting the sorry arses of people like you. You cross me one more time Finch-Fletchley, and I'll string you up by your fancy small clothes at the top of the astronomy tower." The Ravenclaw quidditch team showed up behind her and crossed their arms rather menacingly and Justin stood up to leave. The hall erupted in applause as he left and those who had supported him before were suspiciously silent. Cho winked at Harry, who was still stunned with an open mouthed smile plastered to his face. He shook himself and made his way to Cho and waved his wand up and down.

"What are you doing?" Cho asked, bemused.

"Oh nothing, just taking your measurements."

"For what?"

"You'll see."

The month or so following that interaction went roughly the same way with different camps of people at a time making their negative opinions known to him and a few people defending him when they could. Harry found solace in his work with Alistair and Legion, their morning lessons having turned into an hour of experimentation. Alistair would wrangle a dementor from the horde on guard at Hogwarts and Harry would try his damndest to cure it, but nothing felt the way it did the day he cured Alistair. On further inspection, the writhing, screaming thing entrapped in Alistair's magic was a soul that had endured damage comparable to that sustained by Voldemort's horcruxes and was additionally tainted by what Harry was sure was some kind of unnatural madness. Whatever Harry tried would seem only to anger the dementor before him and Alistair would inevitably be forced to let it go. Harry always felt guilty each time one got away, but Alistair met each failure with a prayer and a reassurance that they would find a solution with time.

"Deathseeker," he'd say cryptically, "if my recovery was possible, I have faith that you will in time find a way to cure the others."

This is true, Legion would say as if putting a bandaid on his ego, for this is a problem that has existed for many centuries. It would not be solved in a day or even a week. Harry could only trust that he would find a solution soon. Turmoil in the newspapers seemed to come to a head in this time, ending with a ministry plea in the Prophet asking that Sirius Black come forward to the ministry to face a trial. Through Solicitor Lawson, Sirius penned a reply, which read,

"To the Ministry that falsely accused me of murder,

I must confess that while your offer is appealing and I do tire of being a wanted man, I am understandably wary of showing my face in a ministry building because there is still a bounty over my head and no assurance that I will not immediately be put to death. If we are to put an end to this, we must meet on my terms so that the injustice that I faced so many years ago is not repeated. I will agree to a meeting on protected, neutral ground and, most importantly, without the interference of the parties who landed me in Azkaban in the first place.

Signed,

Sirius Black"

It was a heavy handed note, obviously referring to Dumbledore and Barty Crouch Sr. as the two people who ultimately sent him to Azkaban. Harry thought it was exactly what he expected of a marauder and really a very good idea. It surprised him even less to find out in a letter from Solicitor Lawson that the meeting would take place at Hogwarts while Dumbledore was held for questioning at the ministry. As a sort of tradeoff, Sirius would enter Hogwarts as a dog as Dumbledore travelled to the ministry via the floo network. None of the children would know the meeting was taking place there, of course, but it didn't take long for a few people to start whispering about the possibility of it being at Hogwarts. In the meantime, however, Harry and Hermione scrambled to complete their final exams, a particularly arduous task given that they each had extra classes and no prior experience with exams due to the incident with Voldemort their first year and the basilisk in the year after. On top of that, Harry had a quidditch final to win. Oliver had stopped looking like a starved maniac, but took on an even more alarming attitude that was like that of a Buddhist monk.

"Be the snitch, Harry," was his mantra, closely followed by, "but only after we've scored fifty points." Thanks to their draw against Ravenclaw, the gap between them and Slytherin wasn't as close as it was, but this didn't stop Oliver from wanting to break a school record and take no chances. The day of the game, Cho Chang slid onto the bench next to Harry and forked a load of fruit onto Harry's plate, a habit she'd picked up from Hermione.

"Eat up, lad," she said, laughing at the stricken expression on Harry's face. "You faint before giving me a game to watch, you'll have more than Granger to worry about for being off your eating schedule."

"I concede, dear lady," Harry said, putting his hands up in mock defeat. "That reminds me. I do actually have a present for you." Harry produced a package from under the table.

"You did not!" Cho gasped and took the offered pole from Harry's hands. It was made of the same wood Harry's broom was made of, but was a bit taller. Chi ripped the parcel apart and squealed in delight at the elegantly carved wood she found under the brown paper. It was carved in the same pattern as Harry's with minor adjustments for height and had no frills, just the way Cho liked it.

"Think of it as my gift to you for giving Justin what for," Harry said. He accepted her hugs and squeals and he could forget for a moment about his troubles watching her speed by the Great Hall's window just moments after. The final match against Slytherin was, thankfully, the first normal game of the season and nothing seemed to be amiss, except that Harry caught a glimpse of Sirius peeking at him from the stands with Crookshanks. He thought he was hallucinating, but was more perturbed than relieved when Crookshanks dropped a note at his feet later in the Gryffindor locker room that simply read "Meet me at 8pm in front of the whomping willow on the night of your final exam." Gryffindor won, of course, and Oliver Wood looked like he might die from happiness and even kissed Harry on the cheek before hoisting him up on his shoulders to celebrate. Exams came and went and Harry and Hermione both collapsed in the Great Hall at dinner after their final exam.

"I still don't understand how you lot managed to take every single class," Pansy said, waving a chicken leg in front of Harry's face in an effort to rouse him from the dead with the prospect of food.

"We'll tell you when it's over, Pan," Hermione growled, not even bothering to pull her hair out of her face. Harry remained blissfully asleep and Ron took the liberty of resting his plate on Harry's head. Later that night, however, Harry stood awake and alert near the whomping willow, where he was astonished to see Crookshanks admitting a large black dog through an opening at the base of the tree. Sirius the dog bounded up to Harry and led him into the castle. At the front door, they were met by an entourage of the wizarding world's top law enforcement, including Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones, Dawlish, and Tonks, accompanied by Lucius Malfoy, Snape, and Solicitor Lawson. Being led out of Hogwarts by a different team of aurors was the headmaster, looking decidedly aloof.

"I do hope that whatever happens, my dear boy," the headmaster said, the aurors not daring to shush him, "I am deeply sorry for whatever mistakes this foolish old man made and that I can some day make up for the suffering you have endured." Harry couldn't tell if the comment was made to him or Sirius. His heart pained him again as it always did when he encountered Dumbledore and reminded him that however sincere the man might be, however good he might have been before, he could not be trusted.

It is for the best, young one, Legion said gently. Although he may have been a force for good once, never forget where he left you and never forget that he seeks to use you.

Harry nodded to the headmaster once and proceeded into Hogwarts with Sirius in tow. The meeting took place in an abandoned classroom on the first floor and Harry was told to wait in the courtyard with Professor Lupin, who looked as nervous as Harry felt.

"What'll happen if he's acquitted?" Harry asked quietly. Lupin sighed and leaned back into the stone bench on which they sat, his bloodshot eyes still tired, but more hopeful than ever before.

"I talked to him about it. He said that if he's acquitted, the first thing he's doing is taking a proper shower and moving all of his things out of his mother's old house before demolishing it for good, and good riddance, too. Then, he wants to come live with me to make up lost time, I suppose. I could use the company since this job won't be around for much longer if anyone finds out I'm a werewolf." Lupin paused for a moment and looked at Harry. "He's not alright after so many years in Azkaban, Harry. As much as he says so, he's going to need a lot of help to go back to the way he was before and...I don't think he'll be able to take care of you. He's going to wake up in the middle of the night and scream and when he takes himself back there-"

"He'll zone out and do things that might hurt me and himself. I know," Harry said, matching Lupin's morose look. "I have my own Azkaban, professor. If mild versions of all of that happened to me, I can't imagine what he'll go through in the next few months." Suddenly, the air around them seemed to chill and Harry got the feeling that something was wrong. A flood of dementors appeared in the night sky. Snape burst into the courtyard, wand at the ready.

"Harry, you need to go inside," Snape shouted, but it was too late. The dementors blocked Harry and Lupin from the castle and Lupin pushed Harry in front of him, shouting at him to run. They made a mad dash for the forbidden forest, Snape hot on their heels after punching a hole through the dementors' ranks with his own patronus. Once they made it far away enough from the main body of dementors, Lupin and Snape turned and levelled their wands at the incoming horde. Harry wanted to help, but his concentration was waning because of the dementors' effect on him. He mustered his strength and cast his own patronus to bolster the other two. The dementors seemed to retreat and regroup. Upon closer inspection, however, a cluster of cloaked figures crested the hill obscuring Hogwarts from view and Harry's stomach sank. Exhausted from fighting off the dementors, the three of them were no match for the twenty or so wizards who encircled them.

"So you really are teaching children now, Severus," the apparent leader said, tearing off his mask to reveal an ugly, pitted face beneath. It was the same man who threatened Lucius in Diagon Alley the summer before. "That's funny, do they know you used to torture and kill people? Look at you now, you traitor."

"You're the real traitor, Dolohov," Snape bit back. "You're not a true dark lord. Look at you pretending to be Voldemort, trying so pitifully to usurp a throne that isn't yours." Dolohov laughed and stepped forward, wand at the ready. Just before he could throw a curse at them, however, Harry ran up to him and landed a blow to Dolohov's chin with shielded fists before turning and doing the same to four more of their attackers before he was subdued by three more,

"This is the young Potter brat, I assume," he said, spitting a globule of blood into the grass. "You've given me enough trouble for a lifetime." He stomped closer and backhanded Harry across the face. The full moon rose above Dolohov's head and he cast a long shadow over Harry as he fell to the grass.

"Don't you dare lay another hand on him!" Lupin cried, lunging forward despite the Death Eaters restraining him. Dolohov laughed and hit him again, rings on his fingers leaving welts on Harry's cheek. Lupin growled and lurched forward, ripping at his attackers' arms. Snape's eyes widened. "Remus, did you take your potion today? You fools! Let him go!" The two Death Eaters released Lupin's arms and watched with horror as the meek man before them grew three feet and transformed into a monster. Dolohov turned his attention away from Harry and Snape took this opening to grab Harry by the arm and run in the direction of the forbidden forest. Dolohov gave the order to give chase, but his voice was drowned out by Remus's howls and the sickening sound of claws ripping into human flesh. Snape took no chances, however, and kept Harry running until they reached the darkness of the forest. They hid behind a particularly large tree and Snape disillusioned them both.

Backs pressed against the deeply pitted wood of the tree, they held their breaths as Death Eaters tramped through the forest. They were greatly reduced in number, and most of them were running in a blind panic, but Harry could still smell Dolohov's acrid breath and the unmistakable scent of dog and blood. Heavier footsteps sounded nearby and Snape stiffened. He bent down to Harry's ear and said, "Run," before bolting out from behind the tree, luring Lupin away from him. Harry didn't wait to find out what became of him and bolted out the other direction and made it almost out of the forest before he was hit from behind with a stunner. Dolohov chuckled and dragged Harry to his feet.

"That was a good try, whelp," he said, spittle landing on Harry's cheek. Harry slammed his head down onto Doholov's nose, breaking it, and kicked his legs out from under him. Four other Death Eaters rallied behind Dolohov and engaged Harry in a rapid casting showdown. Harry did his best to get close enough to his assailants to incapacitate them physically and at first, it worked. Most wizards were rubbish at close-range combat and Harry managed to take down two, even after he lost his wand to an expelliarmus half-way through the fight. Harry was still exhausted, however, and Dolohov eventually managed to restrain him with more ropes and a half-complete full-body bind.

"You're like a slippery eel, you are," Dolohov said, blood dripping from his nose. "I wasn't going to use this on you because I'm a reasonable man, but I'm afraid that last bit of resistance has earned you an equally harsh punishment." Harry didn't know what he meant, but scrambled to get away when the Death Eaters released him.

"Boy!" a voice called, a familiar voice which made his blood run cold. "You're going to regret what your lot did to me!" Harry turned back to see Vernon Dursley coming his way, tied up and being escorted by two Death Eaters. The man was disheveled, hair overgrown and unkempt, and his eyes were red and maddened by months of incarceration. Harry didn't know what came over him, but his knees buckled and his body trembled involuntarily. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I think it best that we leave them for a pleasant family reunion, don't you?" the Death Eaters cut Vernon loose and disappeared into the forest. Vernon lunged at Harry and landed a blow to the same cheek that Dolohov had struck earlier. This time, the blow drew blood and Harry's head struck a tree. Still bound and affected by the full-body bind, Harry could do little to resist Vernon's attacks. His time in the muggle prison seemed to have worsened his violent tendencies and he was even prison-buff. Harry made a run for it, but one of his legs was numb from the body bind and he suspected it might be broken. Vernon grabbed Harry roughly by the arms and landed more blows to Harry's stomach. Desperately, Harry cast a wandless cutting curse at his bindings, cutting his own hands deeply due to the lack of precision. The ropes came loose and he started fighting back, shielding his face from more hits with his forearms. Vernon's exercise in the prison-yard, however, gave him the advantage and Harry was down again, the life slowly being squeezed out of him as Vernon wrapped his hands around his throat. Suddenly, Vernon's hands were gone and as he gasped for breath, Harry could make out a large dog pulling at Vernon's clothes.

"Sirius!" he choked, crawling toward them. Sirius transformed back into a human and stunned Vernon with what Harry realized was his wand. Rushing to Harry's side, Sirius checked Harry for injuries and disparaged at his condition.

"Harry I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come-"

"Sirius, what happened to your hearing? What are you doing here?"

"I was acquitted! But-I-as soon as I heard what was happening outside, I couldn't sit there and wait for news. I came out here to find you. The others are busy keeping the castle locked down and nobody was doing anything about finding you."

"What were you thinking? You could die out here and you've only just been freed!"

"Harry, I don't give a damn if I'm free or not as long as you're safe." Their conversation was cut short as the air around them chilled. Harry stood and started limping farther into the forest again.

"Run, Sirius! It's dementors!" Sirius picked up Harry and ran into the forest, stopping when they came upon the Great Lake and could go no further. The dementors descended on them and Sirius shielded Harry from them with his body. They swept down in swarms and took turns drawing Sirius's soul out of his body. With the Sight, Harry could see his soul gradually coming away from the living plane and felt a keen sense of hopelessness wash over him as Sirius was brought to his knees in front of him. Alistair appeared in the fray and Harry pleaded with him to save Sirius and he obeyed, hovering near Sirius like a watchdog. The dementors turned their attention to Harry and took turns taking his soul too, leaching his strength. In his mind's eye, however, Harry could see his mother's face again in the last moments before her death and when faced with the prospect of seeing the same expression on Sirius's face, felt an intense feeling ignite in his chest. He grabbed his wand which Sirius had dropped when they stopped running and bellowed "expecto patronum" at the oncoming horde. The light was harsh again and left the tip of his wand in lashing waves like the crack of a whip. It seemed to work and Sirius slumped forward onto the gravelly shores of the lake.

Harry rushed to examine Sirius and found his soul barely hanging on and he worked hastily to re-establish the bonds the dementors had ripped away. Just as his work was almost complete, a pair of hands ripped him away from Sirius and threw him roughly onto the gravel. It was Vernon again and this time it seemed no one would be able to save him. As Vernon strangled him, Harry thought of the possibility of dying this time. Above him, the dementors returned, hovering over them in circles like vultures waiting for a dying animal to succumb. His mother's face appeared again, except this time, she seemed to smile playfully at him the way Legion would as if to say, "no dear, not this time," and suddenly, Harry wanted to live again.

The desire was intense and he desperately wished to live, to be anywhere else but in Vernon's grasp. His body tingled as waves of magic pulsed, changing him until he was suddenly flying above Vernon, attacking him viciously with talons he realized were his own. He screamed with unbridled rage and didn't care that rivulets of blood poured from Vernon's wounds. Harry forced Vernon into the dark, cold waters of the Black Lake and struck him with his talons until he lay bleeding and gasping, half of his body in the water. Just as he was about to make the finishing blow, Sirius, who'd woken as Harry was being attacked, shielded Vernon with his own arm.

"Harry, I know you're angry, and I know you're scared," he said, grimacing at Harry's sharp claws digging into his arm, "but I need you to focus on me and turn back into a human. Your animagus transformation is complete, but you're unstable and if you don't turn back now, you may be stuck like this forever. Focus, Harry." Harry was jarred out of his reverie by Sirius's voice and he looked down at his claws piercing Sirius's skin. He released his hold on him and focused hard on becoming human again. It worked and Harry looked down at himself, relieved to see his body again. Sirius moved to embrace him, but was stopped by the dementors, who battered Sirius until he was unconscious. Harry pulled out his wand hastily and started casting his patronus, but halted as his mother's face flashed through his mind as it did before.

Harry pointed his wand calmly above him and a white figure burst forth, emanating waves of white, powerful light as it leapt into the night sky. What he realized was a stag took heavy, confident steps forward, pulsing light erupting from its hooves. Each dementor was frozen where it floated, shrieking in pain, unable to pull itself away from the patronus. Harry reached out with his magic and ripped away the bonds holding the dementors' souls captive. Before his eyes, each dementor threw its head back and turned into a creature like Alistair. When the last of them were free of their curse, the malignancy that affected them swirled like a black cloud above the lake and made attempts at corrupting the newly cured wraiths. Harry contained the malignant cloud in a cage of his own magic and used his power as a necromancer to imprison the thing in his own body. As his patronus faded, Harry collapsed, suddenly feeling the effects of the partially completed dementor's kiss. He was cold and felt disconnected from the rest of his body, his brain feeling full of cotton wool.

"Deathseeker," Alistair said, gathering the wraiths around him like a solemn congregation, "you are not well."

"I've killed someone," Harry said, gesturing weakly to his uncle.

"He is not yet dead, but his soul is indeed damaged beyond repair." Harry could see it. He could not before, but after training for so long with Legion, he could see Vernon's soul suffering and he pitied it despite the cruelty his uncle inflicted upon him.

"Will you take him?"

"Of course," Alistair said. The wraiths took their places around Vernon and took his soul, a shining speck of a soul which they prayed around until it underwent a change that Harry realized was the birth of another wraith. In the end, his uncle lay lifeless of on the ground, dead without a soul to support the body. Above him Alistair maintained his prayer posture and was joined by the rest of the innumerable wraiths, including the one that used to be the soul of his uncle.

"Are you praying for him?" Harry asked.

"No, Deathseeker," they all seemed to say, "this prayer is for you." He felt their gentle touch on his soul as the scene of his mother's death continued to play in his mind over and over again until he lost consciousness

Severus Snape ran after Shacklebolt and Savage in the direction of the bright white beacon that lit up the night's sky. He had only just escaped a near brush with death subduing the transformed Lupin by forcing wolfsbane potion down his throat with the help of two aurors. When they finally came within sight of the clearing, he saw that the patronus that was powerful enough to drive away hundreds of dementors had receded into a wand being held by a familiar figure standing in the middle of a group of creatures, the likes of which he had never seen before. The figure slumped to the ground and the creatures stood by for a while before flying away. Fear gripping his heart, Snape hastily ran to the body on the ground.

"Harry! Don't you dare die here. Don't you dare." Harry wasn't moving, though his eyes were open. Snape bent close to his nose and could hear no signs of breathing aside from a feeble gasp or two. He began performing chest compressions, ignoring the sharp gravel digging into his knees. It was a very muggle procedure, but one that he resorted to when he was desperate. The aurors took turns performing the chest compressions while Snape tried desperately to figure out what was wrong with him. Physical injury aside, Harry was cold to the touch and unresponsive. Snape spelled pepperup potion into Harry's stomach and it seemed to help, but not by much. At length, one of the creatures came back and Snape and the aurors backed away from Harry, giving the thing a wide berth. Snape watched warily as the creature placed a hand on Harry's chest. His body glowed for an instant and Harry gasped, convulsing weakly. The creature bowed its head and flew away, leaving Snape and the aurors stunned and confused. When Snape returned to Harry, he found him much improved and made the decision to move him to the hospital wing.

The next morning, Snape woke groggily in a hospital wing bed. In the next bed over lay Sirius Black, unconscious and being worked on by a mediwizard dressed in a St. Mungo's uniform. On the ground in the middle of the room lay several prone body-shaped forms with white sheets draped over their faces. The source of commotion came from the room at the end of the hall, which he knew to be Harry's private wing. Despite his own injuries, Snape clambered out of bed and limped down the hall.

"Smethwyk, what else can we do for him?" a voice which sounded like McGonagall asked, quivering.

"We can heal his injuries, but something must be done about his mind. He's in some sort of magical coma brought on by the attempted dementor's kiss. Getting attacked by Death Eaters, a werewolf, his uncle, and dementors all in one night must have been severely traumatic, not to mention a premature animagus transformation. It's a miracle he's alive." Snape made it to the open door and peered in, surprising McGonagall, who moved to ease him into a chair.

"Severus," she said, "you must rest-"

"Did the aurors figure out what happened?" Snape asked, his voice coming out hoarse.

"The Death Eaters freed Vernon Dursley from his muggle prison," Amelia Bones said, from Smethwyk's side. "The aurors arrived when you all had already disappeared into the forbidden forest. They managed to find you and help you take down the werewolf, but we couldn't find any trace of Harry until he cast a bloody patronus beacon into the sky. When you found him, his patronus had faded and he was unconscious and his uncle was dead. We don't know for sure who killed the uncle, but the claw marks on his body suggest a werewolf, though it will be hard to confirm. If it was the professor, he will have to be put on trial for the murder of a muggle and at least two Death Eaters, though he may not be charged for killing the Death Eaters."

Snape could barely hear Amelia speaking. Distantly, worry over Remus niggled at the back of his mind, but he could not tear his eyes or his thoughts away from the sight before him. Harry lay in the hospital wing bed with bandages covering him from his torso up to his neck. His eyelids were purple and swollen along with the side of his face where Dolohov had struck him and where he'd landed on the rocky forest floor. Endless yards of linen bandaged his hands and the leg that he'd broken resisting the Death Eaters. Outwardly, he appeared to be asleep, but his unnaturally slow breathing and an utter lack of movement gave Harry a corpse-like appearance that unnerved him.

The next few hours were chaos as Lupin's trial and Sirius's acquittal took place concurrently on a very public stage. The evidence against Lupin was stacked high and there were periods during the events of that night that his movements could not be accounted for, giving him little to no evidence to prove the claw marks on Vernon Dursley's body were not made by him. With Sirius's weakened testimony because he was unconscious at the time of Vernon's death and Harry in a magical coma, it was all Solicitor Lawson could do to demand a fair trial. At Hogwarts, students woke in the cold, gray morning to the news of what happened the night before and the magical world seemed to still. The school had been under lockdown the night of the attack and Ron, Hermione, and Draco were all awakened with the sudden realization that Harry was alone in the thick of the attack. Harry's friends each made their way into his room to sit in silent vigil, quietly watching the adults deliberate on what to do to help Harry. Shacklebolt and a few aurors stayed behind to guard Harry in the hospital wing.

"I'm telling you, performing a legilimens on his mind in that state is a sure fire way to make him go mad if he hasn't already," Snape said, hands gripped rigidly together.

"The longer we wait, the worse this is going to get, Severus. You know this as well as I do. Someone he trusts needs to be there to heal his mind. I can't because my mind is compromised from Azkaban, but you- Severus he loves you like his father. He'll trust you to bring him back." Snape rubbed his face warily, palms scraping against the beard he'd started growing since the attack.

"Severus," Healer Smethwyck interrupted, "I've done all the work I can repairing Harry's body, but there isn't much I can do about his mind. Mr. Black is correct in that Harry's condition will worsen if you wait. Professor McGonagall has been working with him on the animagus transformation and is familiar with Harry's mind. If the two of you perform a legilimens under supervision, there is a greater chance of Harry coming out of this."

"I'll do it," McGonagall said, taking a seat on Harry's bed. She looked expectantly to Snape.

"Alright, let us begin." The next few minutes passed quickly as both professors cast Legillimens and ventured into Harry's mind. Snape and McGonagall found themselves in a grey version of the hospital wing that they had just left, absent of all other people, that was surprisingly cold, with an almost deafening silence. They swept the room looking for Harry, but could find no sign of him in his elaborate and detailed mindscape. The silence was interrupted suddenly by a rasping voice echoing through the air. The astronomy tower, it said. They bolted to the astronomy tower, astounded that Harry could perfectly reproduce the entirety of Hogwarts in his mind. At the top of the stairs, they found Harry sitting at the edge of the ramparts, head leant up against the stone.

"Harry, what are you doing up here?" Snape asked, looking warily at how close Harry was sitting to the edge. Harry turned around, swinging his legs around to the other side.

"I might ask you the same question, Professors," he said, smiling. "No one's ever been here before.

"Harry, are you alright?" McGonagall asked, fighting the urge to cry over hearing him speak again.

"I am and I'm not," Harry said. "There's something wrong, but the me in here is still intact, if that's what you mean. I haven't gone mad."

"What's wrong?" Snape asked this time, "We're here to help." Harry pouted, but stood and waved a hand. Their surroundings changed and they found themselves in front of a cottage with a wooden gate that swung outward inviting them in.

"It's in there. I don't remember this place, but I do and whenever I go in there, I forget what it was that I saw. I mean, I know what it is, but it scares me." Harry led the way in, the doors swinging open to admit him. Snape's gut made a turn and he thought he might vomit. He'd been here once, but he never imagined that Harry would remember this. McGonagall pressed a hand into his forearm comfortingly and he forced his body to lurch forward after Harry. Inside, a ruined house lay frozen in time. At the foot of the stairs, the body of James Potter lay sprawled on the carpet, glasses lying crookedly on his face, the face which was the spitting image of Harry's. Harry seemed only slightly bothered, avoiding touching the body as he ascended the stairs. McGonagall gasped and covered her mouth, but continued up the stairs. Muffled voices could be heard as they reached the landing.

"Move, girl. I'm not here for you," a voice hissed.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"

"This is my last warning!" The last of Lily's cries faded as a green light filled the room, the infant Harry's cries the only sound remaining in the room, and then the scene changed, rewinding as if on a muggle machine. The same, gut wrenching scene replayed again and again, with Harry watching incomprehensibly and unmoving. Snape's composure was shaken as the woman he loved died in front of him again and again. Remembering that he'd buried Lily long ago, he shook himself and knelt before Harry, whose face was stricken and confused.

"Harry, look at me. Your parents loved you. Your mother loved you. None of what happened to you on this night was your fault, only the result of your parents' love for you."

"But she's dead because of me," Harry said, shaking. "You heard her. She said to take her instead. If I'd just died that night, she might still be alive."

"Harry," McGonagall joined in, kneeling by Snape, "remember what we discussed? You had no control over what happened here. You were a baby and nothing the dementors made you remember can change what happened here. Let this scene play out and see the result of your mother's love. Her life might have ended here, but yours did not and every second that you still live is an extension of your mother's memory. Stay alive to remember her and to honor her sacrifice."

The room stilled at the moment Lily died and Harry stared at her dead body, looking tormented, but determined. Slowly, the scene continued with Voldemort levelling his wand at the infant Harry. A bright white light, too bright for everyone in the room, blocked Voldemort's curse and sent it flying back at him. Harry saw with his Sight that the light was his mother's soul who embraced him before fading into the part of the astral plane he could not reach, into peace with Legion and the souls housed there. All at once he understood what Alistair meant to show him, what he'd been resisting. Lily was with Legion. As she is and has always been. We are one and she has been with us all along just as you are even as you breathe. Legion repeated. The building pulsed and the three of them were in a white expanse, no longer a gray, washed out imitation of the real world, but an unknowable white plane that was warm and pulsed with power.

"Harry-" Snape began.

"I'm alright now, professor, or I will be." A series of doors appeared around them, some of them McGonagall and Snape had been through, each containing memories. One door, however, seemed older and seemed to be the epicenter of the power pulsating through the space. Snape felt drawn to it and took a step towards it, but Harry waved again and the door slammed shut, locking itself tightly.

"Not that one, Professor. Not yet." Snape and McGonagall looked to him owlishly and before either of them knew, they were back in the hospital wing with Smethwyck and the other children shouting their names. Both of them were soaked in sweat and McGonagall's nose bled. Snape looked down to find that Harry had latched onto his cloak with one hand, piercing green eyes open and alert.

"I'm sorry," Harry rasped, panting with the effort of moving. "If you'd stayed in my mind any longer, you might have died."

"Right you are, Mr. Potter," Smethwyck said easing Snape and McGonagall into chairs and administering potions. "You were in there nearly two hours. It was a near thing. No Harry, don't try to move!"

Harry was sitting up with great difficulty because of his injuries. He winced and clutched at his abdomen where Vernon had landed the most blows.

"I have to get to the ministry. Lupin-"

"That's right, his trial is taking place right now." Snape said as he heaved himself out of his seat and scooped Harry into his arms.

"Shacklebolt, take us to the ministry."

"Is that wise? Mr. Potter's condition-"

"I can do it," Harry hissed, breathing hard. "Let's go. There's no time to waste." Shacklebolt threw a handful of floo powder into the fire and Harry braced himself as they were transported in a whirlwind to the Ministry of Magic. Shacklebolt led the way and Snape followed, flanked by Tonks and Dawlish with Smethwyck on their heels. The commotion of their arrival cleared the way between the central hall and the courtroom and people seemed to stare at Harry with curious eyes that made Harry prickle with discomfort. They burst through the doors of the hearing in the middle of Sirius's testimony.

"I'm telling you, it wasn't Lupin. There were dementors swarming the place. How would you know if the cause of death wasn't the dementor's kiss?" Sirius bellowed, Solicitor Lawson frantically trying to get him to stop talking.

"His body was so torn up, Mr. Black," an unpleasant looking woman said with a sickly sweet smile, "investigators could not make out which came first. What you are telling us, however, simply makes no sense. How could-" Her retort was cut short by Shacklebolt opening the courtroom doors. Solicitor Lawson spoke quickly, and soon, Harry was in a chair sitting before the Wizengamot.

"Mr. Potter," Amelia Bones said from her seat at the head of the council, "I am surprised to see you awake. When I last saw you, you were in a magical coma. Can you physically sit through this trial?"

"I can," Harry said, confidently and clearly. A few members of the Wizengamot mumbled their surprise at the state of him and others shifted in their seats, impressed by the defiance in his voice."

"Alright then, Mr. Potter. Let us begin this interview. Sirius Black claims that you attacked Vernon Dursley in self defence. Can you provide evidence that this was the case? Aurors have confirmed that the Death Eater Dolohov did indeed break Mr. Dursley out of prison, but there is little to suggest that he attacked you."

"I do, Madam Bones." Harry stood and unbuttoned his hospital wing pajama shirt, exposing the bandages beneath. He unwrapped the bandages around his throat, revealing an ugly black bruise that wrapped around his neck and the distinct shape of Vernon Dursley's fingertips. Around the room, people gasped in shock and muttered to each other.

"If you compare these bruises to my uncle's hands and pictures of other injuries he's inflicted upon me in the past that are in my medical file, you will find that they are the same." Smethwyck produced Harry's file and another auror snapped a picture of Harry's neck. A mediwizard consultant examined Harry's injury alongside his file and nodded his confirmation to the Wizengamot. The court was again alight with conversation and Madam Bones had to call everyone to order.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. The second point of issue is that Mr. Black claims the marks on Vernon Dursley were caused by you in your animagus form and not Professor Lupin. You are unregistered and there are no witnesses besides Sirius Black who have seen this animagus form and very few animagi are large enough to produce marks like these." She waved her wand and a projection of one of Vernon's injuries appeared in the air for the audience to see.

"The only way to prove Mr. Black's claims," she continued, "would be for you to demonstrate your transformation in front of the Wizengamot and make similar marks for comparison."

Solicitor Lawson stood, and said, "You cannot expect him to transform so soon after-"

"I can do it," Harry said for the second time. Amelia Bones nodded and gestured for him to proceed, conjuring a dummy made of cloth and wool before him. Harry stood and found his transformation much easier the second time around, though his injuries made the change painful. The court was silent as Harry grew into a large gray bird, whose wingspan was easily larger than a full-grown man and whose talons left long, ragged tears in the mannequin that resembled the floating picture of Vernon's injuries perfectly. Harry's form bore a white lightning bolt shape on its forehead, just above its two emerald green eyes. He stayed in his animagus form as long as he could before he had to revert to his human form, gasping from the exertion and clutching the arms of his chair. "It was me who made those marks. I was about to die and my survival instincts led me to complete my first transformation. Sirius calmed me down until I could reverse the transformation, but the dementors attacked him. They took my uncle's soul and turned to attack me, so I cast a patronus that made them all retreat. That's the last thing I remember."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones said,surprise marking her face in equal measure to the rest of the room.

"A patronus? A third year casting a patronus?" A high, squeaky voice emanated from the woman from before. "I don't believe it. He's making it up to protect his professor." The Wizengamot seemed to explode with conversation, half of which was in support of Harry and half of which seemed to side with the unpleasant woman.

Harry stood, produced his wand, and muttered the incantation, holding onto the memory of his mother's soul finding peace. A hush spread over the court as they watched his movements. A white stag shot from his wand and leapt around the courtroom, pulsing with blinding power. The stag reared up on the unpleasant woman, who shrieked and ducked for cover as the patronus passed harmlessly through her. Harry cut off the spell, too exhausted to continue. He wavered and stumble, causing everyone in the room to gasp and lurch forward in their seats as if wanting to catch the boy who suddenly seemed so small and so hurt despite his bravado. Shacklebolt caught him before he fell and as he protested, Madam Bones stood and said, "That's enough, Mr. Potter. My fellow members of the Wizengamot, I think we can all agree that Mr. Potter's admirable display has proven the points under contention. We shall reconvene for a vote within the next hour. Healer Smethwyck, please see to Mr. Potter's injuries. Mr. Potter, I want you to stay in bed and do whatever your healer tells you to do until you're healed up. Hearing adjourned!"

Harry stayed awake only long enough to hear Madam Bones speak before passing out in Shacklebolt's arms. When he woke next, he was in the hospital wing and his mouth felt like sandpaper. Sitting up, he was relieved to find that it didn't hurt to breathe and his leg was no longer broken.

"He's awake!" someone shouted from the door. Draco sprinted to his side followed by a throng of other people. Madame Pomfrey muscled her way into the throng, shouting "Alright, you lot! Potions first, then he can talk to you." Harry drank his potions obediently and received an armful of his best friends, relieved to tears that he was back with them.