A/N: This one's a little short, but I wanted to button everything up before school starts and things get messier. One thing is certain, Harry's world is definitely changing!

Chapter 5 - Harry's Changing World - Part III

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and onto his hands and knees in the parlor at Grimmauld Place. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He'd just made things so much more complicated. Stupid! Now two more adults could mess everything up because they think you're too young to handle your own matters!

He stood quickly, tested his shoulder and felt a small amount of pain, which could also be a new issue. He sighed, trying to hold back the panic that was surging up. I've got to talk to Aunt Petunia! If Dumbledore had gotten to her, all was lost. He'd rather know now than carry on thinking the petition was safely progressing towards completion. Even if Dumbledore hadn't used Legilimency on her, as Harry well knew he could do, she'd relinquish custody in retaliation for the harassment she'd think she was receiving. And she must be enraged that they were taken away from Privet Drive. If she hadn't given him up yet, she would do now, if he didn't handle this right. He ran agitated hands through his hair. If he failed to get emancipated, he'd be killed soon. And probably not by Voldemort, but by some other arse who liked to pick on him. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, came to mind.

Things were at a point of no return. If Aunt Petunia had given up guardianship, short of Dumbledore imperio-ing her into keeping it by reclaiming him for another eighteen months, Harry would have to find a new guardian. No way. NO BLOODY WAY. He'd had three solid months to fantasize about his independence, and it was the only acceptable alternative to his current hell. He wanted no part of being under anyone else's stewardship.

"There's no turning back," Harry said aloud. He looked himself over and saw how dirty he was with soot from the floo. "Evanesco," he incanted, holding the heel of his wand hand outward like he'd done yesterday with the accio. He could feel his magic coming through it. Brilliant! he said inside his own head. At least this new development was showing some promise!

But the happy feeling subsided quickly as he looked around the room, smelled the now familiar scents of this house's interior, and memories from last summer quickly surfaced. Sirius, winking when I'd declared I wanted to fight Voldemort. Sirius explaining the family tree and confessing to a rather rotten childhood that rivaled mine. A lump rose in Harry's throat. He next remembered Sirius coming to Kings Crossing to see him off. The gruff, one armed hug. And then finally, that moment in the Department of Mysteries when he'd called Harry James, and the split second of disappointment Harry had felt, only to be quickly followed by shock and devastation as Sirius took the killing curse and fell through the veil. The tears came hard with that memory, and in the middle of trying desperately to stem them, Harry realized that this house would only ever be a place of sadness and loss for him.

That left him even more alone in the world.

He quickly swiped his eyes. "Kreacher!" he called.

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Now Harry was back in his dorm. A breakfast tray was waiting for him, and he wondered if he'd been missed. He checked his watch. He'd been gone thirty minutes. He swiped at his eyes but they kept leaking.

I need to burn off some steam, he thought. He snatched up the Maurader's Map and headed off for the Room of Requirement.

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Harry had paced back and forth no less than six times before the Room had acquiesced to his request for a space to practice his magic. The tall doors appeared for him and he stepped inside, never once expecting to encounter the trio of adult wizards he was currently sharing the castle with engaged in their own magical version of letting off steam. He was unaware that he was gawking, as he stood with his mouth open, watching Remus and Lucius Malfoy duel. Their magic was quite spectacular. The pulsing and reverberation made the room crackle with energy and Harry was enthralled. He peripherally noted the interior was huge, easily the size of a stadium, and along the wall just ahead was a platform with what could only be the wizarding version of "box seats". It was set in a zone that seemed free of risk of vulnerability to fragments of wild magic. Snape was sitting in the farthest of the four seats, watching him.

"Potter," Snape called over to him, openly assessing him with a narrow stare, "come sit." He motioned to the open seat beside him.

Harry struggled with himself, focusing on his inner palms, then the soles of his feet at the same time again for a long moment. He felt himself shift out of his emotional distress and took a deep cleansing breath. Lupin and Malfoy had continued to slash their wands dramatically, sending ferocious blasts and zips of magic at each other. They were engaging in a pretty fierce display of wand battle that mirrored the type of casting Harry had seen in the Department of Mysteries. He couldn't help but be duly impressed. Snape was still watching him, and he realized he was somewhat in the line of fire where he was, so he headed over to the seat beside the greasy bat of the dungeons, who still was not greasy, who still had the shorter hair, and who was still dressed more casually, this time in black trousers and white linen shirt. Harry actually had a very strong desire to question him about this, but he bit his tongue. Don't be stupid, Harry, you're just inviting him to be a ponce, and to poncily inform you that it's none of your business.

Severus watched the Boy Who Lived as he made his approach to the stadium seating. His face was flushed and he looked like he had been in tears moment's prior. But now he is calm…. "Alright, Potter?" Severus asked in a flat tone.

"Yes, fine." Harry said just as flatly. Then added, because he'd promised himself to deflect undue scrutiny from this bastard, especially over the next twenty-seven days, "Thank you, sir."

Severus blinked. Oh, this boy is definitely up to something. But just when he was about to prod a bit by asking why Potter looked upset, the brat caught him entirely off guard.

"But are you alright, sir? I saw what… he did to you last night." Potter commented with the genuine concern he'd felt when he'd witnessed it. "It was disturbing to watch." (Harry had deliberately refrained from even starting to say Voldemort just then, conceding that Snape had advised him against it enough to mean that there was probably a good reason to refrain, at least around Death Eaters.)

Severus turned to look squarely at Harry Potter, and yes, he was gobsmacked. Perhaps he should be a little bit more accepting of the boy's declarations that there was much that they didn't know about what he knew about the Dark Lord. "You… had a vision?"

When Potter met his eyes, he saw the exhaustion of a boy who had been living with far too much reality and awareness of their collective peril.

Potter nodded slowly. The boy was studying him with as much intensity as Severus was directing his way.

Severus couldn't read his expression at all. He looked upset, of course, and very guarded, but there was visible strain that was likely far more complicated than just being put off at the sight his professor having taken a horrible curse. "Like what you saw with the snake and Arthur Weasley?"

"Yeah." Harry looked away from him. He didn't trust Snape's motivations, although he did appreciate that way the older wizard was speaking without malice, for a change. His professor actually did look slightly off kilter this morning, and no wonder.

"Gah!" A disappointed grunt from Remus got Harry's attention. The match was over. Point to Malfoy.

"Severus? Your turn." Malfoy called over. "Good morning, Harry."

"I'll sit this one out," Snape said loudly enough for them to hear while keeping his eyes on Harry, who had nodded to acknowledge the greetings from both Remus and Malfoy. "Have you eaten? I had a tray sent up to you." When Harry shook his head, Snape motioned to the cold box attached to Harry's chair. "Find something in there. You need to eat. You're using a lot of your magic while you heal, and for any other misadventure you've managed, and you need to refuel, understand?"

Harry was beyond taken aback at his being advised this way, as if Snape actually cared about him, and knew he'd given as much away in his expression before he turned his attention to the cold box. He found butter beer, pumpkin juice, and an assortment of pasties. Just eat something. Snape is right, he advised inwardly, then helped himself to food and drink while Malfoy Sr. and Remus began another duel. He badly wanted to observe them and soak up every tactic they were utilizing, but he couldn't concentrate on anything, save his biggest concern of all, Aunt Petunia.

"Why were you upset just now, Potter?" Snape asked. He'd kept his narrowed stare on Harry all this time.

Harry's eyes snapped up to his. He didn't think, but just went for it. "I need to see my aunt. Just for a moment. Please." He didn't intend it but he could feel his eyes redden and grow wet. Snape's nostrils flared and his eyebrow quirked at Harry's request. And he was definitely unnerved by Harry's panic. "Please."

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Harry tapped on the front door to the smart looking walkup, set on a normal looking lane, outside of the business district, in the town the Order had chosen for their safe house. He'd been delivered here by Snape after dutifully eating three pasties and drinking a large glass of pumpkin juice and an even larger glass of water. Next I'll need the loo, he thought, and immediately regretted putting his attention there.

He heard slow, shuffling footsteps approach and a soft, "Alohomora," before the door swung open to reveal an odd looking wizard who clearly was attempting to look like an elderly muggle, and failing miserably.

"Merlin," the wizard wheezed from behind what Harry suspected was a glamour, although he'd never yet seen one being used, "what is Harry Potter doing on our doorstep?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't broadcast this to the entire neighborhood, Cresswell," Severus growled irritably from a short distance behind Harry.

"Sorry, Severus," the wizard said again, "just caught off guard, you see. We weren't expecting a visit."

"I need to speak with my aunt," Harry said quickly. "In private. It will be quick." He looked over his shoulder to monitor Snape's whereabouts. Hope I can cast the privacy charm without my wand. His heart started to race. He watched the ridiculously dressed Cresswell look around the interior of the flat.

"You'd best come inside," he told Harry.

"No," Harry said adamantly. If his uncle caught sight of him, all would be lost. And Aunt Petunia is definitely already done with this nutter, with his mix of plaids and checks and paisleys. The less she had to be put out by this whole situation, the better things would go for Harry. IF she hasn't already blown it all up. "Would you please ask my aunt to step outside? Please? Tell her I promise to be quick." Cresswell nodded and held up a finger. He closed the door softly. Harry stepped back down the steps to the footpath to make room for his aunt.

"Potter, you'd be wise to accept the offer to go inside," Severus said in annoyance. Why does this boy have to make a scene about everything?

Harry glared at his professor. "My uncle is in there," he said. Snape had come a lot closer and was now only a few feet from Harry.

Snape gave him an exasperated look. "I've escorted you here with the intention of assisting you. Do you think I'd let your uncle harm you?"

"You don't understand, and I'm not going to try to explain," Harry said firmly, successfully keeping his tone from getting too rude. "It's better if she doesn't see anyone else here. Besides, I'll need you to give us privacy," he added. "Please. Sir." If looks could kill, Harry thought as Snape's visage began to resemble the sneering, hateful bastard Harry had known and loathed for four and a half years. "Please, sir."

The doorknob squeaked as someone turned it to open the door. Harry flashed a pleading look at Snape, who seemed slightly taken aback, and actually did step back a half dozen paces before muttering, "Talpa partum," and disillusioning himself. The front door opened and Petunia Dursley stepped out onto the stoop. Harry realized he could still make out Snape's form, probably because he knew what to look for. He turned to face his aunt who was glaring at him with such vicious rage he checked to make sure she wasn't armed with any kitchen utensils.

"What do you want?" she hissed quietly. "You have some nerve coming here-"

Harry rushed up the steps to face her, briefly holding the heel of his right hand outward, and chanting softly, "Muffliato," in the general direction of Snape. He only hoped the potions master would not sense the spell and cast a finite, and thus be further driven to listen in.

"Don't you dare use that freakishness on me!" Aunt Petunia seethed, still keeping her voice way down.

Harry had hoped to be finished with her inability to consider his needs, but alas, here he was, once again. He'd never really tried to plead with her like this before. Pride had always taken over. "Please just answer my question, and please be careful with what you say!" Harry begged in his own whisper, but he knew Snape could hear him. That man truly did have bat hearing, at least in Harry's experience. He waited to see if she had really heard what he was trying to convey. "You need to play your part if you want to be done with me-" he had his back to Snape as he mouthed, "for good."

"Ask your question!" She demanded through gritted teeth.

"Are you still my guardian?" Harry whispered. He let his fear show as he studied her annoyed frown. She was bursting with the desire to rant. He widened his eyes in a plea. When Petunia pressed her lips together and nodded with a curling lip, Harry let out a harsh sob of relief. "Good! But I think you may be pressured to release it soon. Please do not. Please!" He beseeched her with his eyes again, repeating very quietly, "For both of our sakes, do. not. give. it. up." Harry flashed a look over his shoulder to make sure Snape wasn't any closer. "Everything is in place and will be over on that day. Then things will be the way you want. Alright? Just don't agree to do anything else, and have a little more patience. Please!"

"Fine!" Petunia spat at him. "Now go away! You and your lot have displaced us from our home and our lives! And you wonder why I can't stand the sight of you!" She spun on her heel and swung the door open, stomping back inside and slamming it shut behind her.

"I would like to know what that was about, Potter," Severus declared as Potter came towards him. "Finite," he cast the canceling charm on both Potter's muffliato and his disillusionment spells, assessing the boy's pallor carefully, which was revealing his stress was perhaps slightly relieved, but very much still there.

"Family business," Harry said angrily. The fact that everything had to be so bloody hard in his life was foremost in his thoughts. Exchanges like that with his aunt never failed to make him feel miserable. "I'd like to take the Night Bus back to school."

"You will not," Severus said. He stepped in front of Potter to block his progress. He raised an eyebrow at the mutinous expression on the boy's face, hoping their sort-of-truce would hold for this moment of confrontation. "We should apparate. Is there a reason you prefer not to?"

Potter dropped both eyes and head downward. "I just want to be alone." He grumbled, heaving deep breaths.

A tiny spark of sympathy fluttered somewhere within Severus' chest. "I would argue that a quick apparation back to Headquarters and a floo to Dumbledore's Office would hasten your ability to have just that, would it not?" He stared at the top of the boy's messy-haired head and waited. What is it now? he wondered again. But he knew the boy was just plain wrung out. "Come, Potter," he said, raising the arm he would use to pull the boy to his side for their travel. "In literally a few moments you can be walking the halls of Hogwarts, sorting your thoughts while heading back to your dorm."

Harry was starting to feel the exhaustion that was due after a long night of fretting. He raised his head and saw Snape's arm out again and knew it meant he was supposed to move closer to his professor. It was a battle of wills, and not necessarily worth the expense of his energy. "Alright," he said, and stepped over beside Snape.

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"One last directive, Potter," Severus dictated as he released the boy and they stepped into Dumbledore's office. He conjured several vials as the wary teen waited with waning patience. "Dreamless sleep," Severus said as he passed the vials over to Potter. "You look as sleep-deprived as I feel, so allow me to give you this one order, just for today: go back to bed and sleep." While the teen digested this he gave him a quick evanesco to remove the traces of soot.

Potter regarded Severus with an odd frown. After a beat his face relaxed and he shook his head, "Alright, sir." He took the vials and exited without another word.