A/N: I'm sorry I've been so shit at replying to reviews with this story! I've read them and appreciated them as they've come in — from here I'm going to do a thing that I do with my other stories where I'll reply to reviews with a preview of the next chapter, just because it gives me something worthwhile to respond with other than just "thank you!" :)


"You must be gifted at potions," Sirius said.

"Hm?" Heather blinked in surprise, looking up from her book.

It was their second meeting already. The week had flown by, and she'd spent much of it wondering if her new standing Friday night appointment hadn't all been the product of some weird fever dream. But then she'd sent a letter to her brother, simply reading that she'd need to invest in some dog treats in the future - she'd received little more than a crudely drawn smiley face in return. Teenagers. Scott had been rather more difficult to deal with, for while she'd been telling the truth when she said that he accepted it readily when Scotland took priority, usually she could tell him why exactly Scotland was taking priority. Now her hands were tied - or her tongue was, she supposed.

"You're young, but you already work at the apothecary in Diagon Alley. That would be a competitive position. You would've had to have beaten no small amount of people to get it," Sirius pointed out.

Well. Evidently he'd given the matter some thought. Heather wasn't too flattered, though - her career path was probably a more pleasant distraction than the potential schemes of former Death Eaters. She closed the book. It was mostly just a front so he could eat his fill without feeling like he had an audience, anyway.

"Oh. Erm, I suppose? I don't live for it or anything, it's not my life's purpose, but it's a decent skill to have. I got an O at NEWT level, but I had a pretty good reference from Snape, too, which probably helped."

"Doesn't sound like him - helping out anybody who wasn't a Slytherin."

Heather made a face "The fact that I was a Slytherin probably helped, then."

Silence. She returned to her book, waiting for the inevitable griping. None came.

"You don't find many decent Slytherins," he said finally.

"Who says I'm a decent one?"

"You're doing this."

"Maybe it's an uncharacteristic moment of benevolence."

He huffed a laugh "The fact that you're James and Lily's daughter, then."

"I'd argue that that's debatable," she shrugged.

This time she didn't let a silence sink in, though, not particularly wanting to have that conversation - the one concerning what constituted as a parent.

"Snape was perfectly decent to me right up until the truth came out about who my biological parents were. After that it was a different story, but that was my final year anyway so I s'pose it could've been worse," she sighed "Stupid part is I used to defend him up 'til then - always argued that he was firm but fair, and wasn't a real prick unless people were idiotic enough to give him a reason to be."

Sirius scoffed.

"Yeah," she said "Like I said, I was stupid. Took less than one half term afterwards for me to realise exactly how stupid, but y'know. But I'd been getting consistent Os from him every year up until that point, which is like…a step above a bloody O from him, so it would've looked too shifty if suddenly that year I started failing. Plus with NEWTs you can contest the mark, and I would have if he'd tried to be a dick about it."

"And the reference?"

"He'd promised it already the year before when I'd informed him of my desired career path. Of course, he tried to retract it and pretend he had no memory of making that offer, but I mentioned it to Harry and Harry took it to Dumbledore…despite my begging him not to. I had it within a week after that, and was faced with the woes of coming to terms that I was a seventeen year old who needed her little brother to fight her battles for her."

"Was it any good? The reference?"

"Apparently I'm an adequate worker who carries tasks out sufficiently."

"Wow. I'm amazed he didn't just profess his love for you there and then."

Heather made a noise of disgust "Either way, a reference from Snape is worth its weight in gold. The fact that it existed at all was a win - he could've written that I was a daft cow with a punchable face and they'd have still been impressed."

Sirius chuckled, toying with a loose thread on the blanket she'd brought for him. Just like last time she'd seen him, he was plainly downright exhausted, his eyelids fluttering every so often when he blinked as though trying to stay shut entirely. Heather resisted the urge to insist that he sleep. It was plain that he was sheepish at best and embarrassed at worst when it came to having to accept this from her - she could only insist so many times that she would rather help than know he was out here fending for himself, but she knew she wouldn't help matters by mothering him, either.

She supposed the belly full of food and warmth of the fire, as he once again insisted on sitting on the floor beside it, was lulling him into rest - but maybe the opportunity for real conversation was winning out for now.

"How…how did you find out?" He asked, continuing to put up a good fight against the drowsiness.

"That I was a daft cow with a punchable face? I suppose I always suspected."

"About Harry," despite how he wouldn't be sidetracked, he offered a lopsided smile of amusement at her response before he continued "Your final year at Hogwarts, you said? So that would have been his first year, if I'm doing the maths properly."

"Yeah," she replied "I'd heard the rumours - that Harry Potter was going to be among the first years that year, but I didn't know everything yet. Dumbledore had me pulled into his office after the Start-of-Term Feast…"


"So, Harry Potter's a Gryffindor," Scott hummed at her side where they sat together at Slytherin table.

"He was always going to be, wasn't he?" Heather shrugged "I think the world would shit itself if he ended up being one of ours."

"The world as in the planet itself or, like…everybody on it collectively?"

"Either one."

"What a charming mental image."

"You're welcome."

"It could've gone differently. Yeah, no matter how weirdly poetic it might've been if he ended up a Slytherin, Gryffindor wasn't the only way. He could've been a Ravenclaw," Scott shrugged.

"But not a Hufflepuff?"

"The kid who defeated You Know Who was never going to be a sodding Hufflepuff, H."

"Touche, touche," she snorted "I just-"

"Miss Barrett."

She fell immediately silent as the unmistakable voice of their Head of House spoke behind her, before turning and blinking in surprise.

"Yes, Professor?"

"The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office immediately after dinner. See that you aren't late."

And then he was leaving before she could so much as ask a question. The smile left her face and then the blood followed soon thereafter, her cheeks and nose quickly going cold.

"What the hell was that about?" Scott murmured, eyes fixed on the back of Snape as he strode towards the massive wooden doors of the Great Hall.

"Last time something like this happened, it was so they could tell me my dad was dead," she pointed out.

"Maybe it's your mother this time."

"The universe doesn't like me enough to put Debbie in the ground," she snorted, prodding at the slice of chocolate cake on her plate.

Her appetite was almost entirely gone.

Heather's mind remained fixed on the matter all throughout the rest of dinner, but luckily there wasn't a whole lot of it left. There was, however, some amount of murmuring when Harry Potter was spirited away from Gryffindor table a good fifteen minutes before everybody was set to leave. None was so interested in this than Draco Malfoy, newly brought into the Slytherin fold, who remarked loudly some ways down the table about their new celebrity peer being so special as to get a tour of the castle from the Head of Gryffindor herself. It was going to be a long year with that insufferable little shit at their table.

"I'm going to go now," she said a few minutes before people were set to begin clearing out "I want to get through the halls before I'm stuck wading through the first years."

Standing up, she moved one leg over the bench and then the other.

"I'll wait up in the common room for you."

"No need," she waved a hand - mostly hoping that if she pretended that she felt unbothered, at some point it would become true.

"Of course there's a need. I'll never sleep if I don't find out what this is all about, it's too intriguing."

"That you, Scott, for your heartfelt concern. It means the world - and it's bold of you to assume that I'll tell you anything at all."

She would. They both knew it. But whatever showing on her face was clearly troubled enough for him to let her taunt him without much retort. Tension settled stubbornly in her shoulders as she walked through the castle towards Dumbledore's office. She knew where it was easily enough, but she'd only been there the once - when it had fallen upon him and Snape to give her the bad news about her dad. Well, Dumbledore had been the one to break the news. Snape had mostly hovered about in the background, there as a formality thanks to his being Head of Slytherin. Heather suspected he'd been as relieved as she was that it hadn't actually fallen upon his shoulders to inform her.

It was her first day back - she'd been in her own bloody bedroom this morning. What could have actually happened between now and then to make this meeting a necessity? She tried not to dwell on that question, already knowing speculation wouldn't help. And it saved a fair bit of time and energy, too, for when she reached the corridor where the entrance to Dumbledore's office was located, she found McGonagall and Harry Potter already there, waiting patiently by the gargoyle. What business could he possibly have with her? Or McGonagall for that matter? It was then that she knew that whatever guesses she might've come to were probably hilariously incorrect.

"Ah, Miss Barrett - good," she looked between the two of them as Heather slowed to a stop beside The Boy Who Lived "The two of you wait here, I must speak to the Headmaster and then I'll return."

Leaving no room for much of a response - not that either of them were in much of a state to offer one - she approached the gargoyle and said "Fudge flies."

The terrible noise of stone grinding against stone sounded as the staircase was revealed, and once McGonagall ascended the stairs the entranceway ground shut once again. Evidently, they did not want to be eavesdropped upon.

Left in the corridor with the Potter boy, Heather cast a glance towards him and found his own fixed on the snake emblem on her robes, brow furrowed.

"We're not all bad," she offered.

"Excuse me?" He seemed surprised.

"Slytherins. We're not all bad. Some, yeah, but not all of us," she said - and earned a slow nod that suggested he didn't quite believe her "I'm Heather, by the way."

If she was busy talking, she couldn't sit and wonder what the bloody hell was going on.

"Harry," he returned, and then frowned at the gargoyle "Do you know why they've asked to see us?"

"I was hoping you would," he admitted "This…this sort of thing isn't normal, then?"

"No," she replied "Not at all."

"I thought not…but I hoped so," he muttered, and she couldn't help but laugh.

They waited then, long enough from the silence to go from preoccupied, to somewhat comfortable, to awkward. Whatever the teachers were discussing with Dumbledore, apparently it required a lot of discussion.

"I suppose the prefects have already shown the way to the common room by now," he broke the silence some time later.

Heather's lips thinned in sympathy and she sighed "I'll show you the way afterwards. The castle looks massive but you'll get used to it - just don't ask any student you don't know for directions. Unless they're wearing a prefect badge. Some of my classmates love convincing first years that the herbology greenhouses are on the top floor of the castle."

"Some of your very nice fellow Slytherins?" He hazarded drily.

Surprisingly drily, for an eleven year old. Heather laughed - and that seemed to surprise him.

"Gryffindors, actually. So maybe you'd be safe - part of the pride, House loyalty and all that."

Before he could offer a response, the entranceway to the office slowly began rotating once again and McGonagall was beckoning them in. Heather gestured for the boy to lead the way, and then followed after him. The entranceway closed behind them once they were up the stairs, and they filed into Dumbledore's office without a word. Professor Snape was already inside, and while Dumbledore appeared calm as ever, whatever they'd been discussing had clearly aggravated her Head of House. In fact, he was perhaps the most furious Heather had ever seen him, eyes wide and breathing on the cusp of being ragged. What the hell was going on? The look he gave her when she walked inside hardly helped matters - gaze furious as he stared her down like he'd just caught her trying to raid his personal ingredient stores.

Heather quickly looked away - looking to Dumbledore instead who offered her a smile.

"No need to look so worried, Miss Barrett. I know there's a troubling precedent set for the sort of news you've been greeted with when summoned to my office, but the news I have to offer you now is not bad."

The look on Snape's face begged to differ. And McGonagall's, too, for that matter.

"I think it's best you both sit down," McGonagall waved her wand and two chairs zipped from the side of the room, positioning themselves side by side before Dumbledore's desk.

The both of them complied silently - Heather steadfastly avoiding Snape's gaze as it burned into her.

"Miss Barrett…Heather, I must confess to keeping the truth from you regarding the truth of your parentage," Dumbledore began without preamble "It was not a decision I made lightly. Indeed, I kept it from you hoping it may afford you some peace as you navigated your time here at Hogwarts. Now, however, with Mr Potter's arrival, I fear I can no longer continue to do so in good conscience, as I believe it would benefit neither of you. On the contrary, I think it would only deny you both a great deal of joy."

Heather stared. And then she blinked. After that, she went back to staring again. Then, finally, she laughed. It was a high-pitched, nervous laugh as she pieced together the vagaries and brushed off the flowery language that fogged them. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was getting at - there was only one reason why he would have Harry bloody Potter present while he dragged her into a room and started hedging around the topic of her birth parents. Understanding, though, was one thing. Believing was quite another.

"You can't be serious," she forced out breathlessly.

"I find myself in agreement, this suggestion is absurd," Snape cut in.

"Severus," Dumbledore said firmly.

Snape's lips pursed and he crossed his arms where he stood in the corner…but he fell silent.

"You…you don't mean…you can't mean…" Harry spoke slowly.

"Had Miss Barrett remained in the care of her birth parents after she was born, her name would be Heather Potter."

Snape had made his position clear, and so had McGonagall - although hers was a different one, with the resigned nod she gave in agreement. And so, finally, Heather turned to stare at Harry Potter - her brother - and found him staring back at her, curiosity and disbelief warring on his features. Somewhere, faintly, in the back of her mind, she noted that their eyes were rather similar.


A/N: More backstory to come! I'm going to drop bits in here and there as the story progresses. Also, sending new students in the absolute wrong direction when they ask where a certain classroom is happens to be a time-honoured British high school tradition…even if it's one that I didn't personally indulge in because I'm not a Complete Dick.

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