AN: Happy International Talk Like a Pirate Day! I tried to incorporate some pirate talk, but was unable to unfortunately. This is where my story comes to an end for now at least, though I have one prequel/epilogue chapter that I'm almost done with to cap off this tale with before I mark it complete. I also realize in this chapter I'm playing a little fast and loose with what I'm taking from the movie vs. the book, but I'm trying to weave the tale that makes the most sense to me. :) Thank you for everyone whose been with me on this journey, you're the best!

Severus wondered about what Draco had said, and what he meant about the black quill. And what did that have to do with him and the governess? He did believe Draco when it wasn't going to be an easy story for Harry to tell him, and that he should find out about at least some of the elements of the story before he just asked Harry to tell him the story first. But who was the best person to ask?

He ruled out Grandmum right away, she prattled on a lot and would inevitably tell Harry what he was up to. Hermione? Maybe, though he was as likely to get an essay assigned to him as anything. Ron would just be protective of Harry, so he wasn't a good one either. The more he thought about it the more he realized that there really was just one option, and that option was the only adult that told him things that others thought he was too young to know; and he had a feeling that the black quill was going to be one of those topics. But he wasn't planning on going there in the near future, so how was he going to make this work? Maybe being mentored by Draco was going to add to his ability to plan.

At dinner that night, Severus watched Grandmum carefully. She was always the softest target. "How is uncle George doing?" he asked when there was a lull in the conversation. "I haven't seen him much lately."

"How thoughtful of you to ask," she replied with a smile. "He is fond of you, you know. He seems to be doing well, all told. Why he doesn't seem to be tying the knot with that girl of his though . . ."

"I miss him," Severus sighed. "It was so fun when I got to see him more regularly."

"Oh, sweetie," she crooned. "Would you like me to see if we can go visit him tomorrow during the day? I'm sure he'd love to see you."

"I would like that," Severus nodded seriously.

"You know, we could set it up that Severus has regular time with George," Ginny offered, overhearing the conversation. "I'll bet George would like it as much as Severus."

"Good idea, Ginny," Harry beamed. "Maybe help out a bit around the shop and learn the ropes a bit of running a business, eh?"

"Sounds great!" Severus agreed, though that was certainly more than he was aiming for. He expected himself to feel disappointed with this development because that was not his intent – but then he didn't feel that disappointment. Did he actually miss George? Did he actually want to see him? Banish the thought of actually wanting to see that obnoxious, overgrown child.

But as soon as Severus was alone with George, he didn't waste a lot of time. "What's a black quill?" he asked directly.

"Now where did you hear about one of those?" George asked, smirking in exaggerated shock. "Have you been slipping Harry and going off to Knockturn Alley without him?"

"I'm serious, I need to know what it is," he implored George. "It's for a project I'm doing with Draco Malfoy. I asked you because you're not the kind of grown-up that keeps things from kids just because they're interesting."

"Yes, but you see that particular dark artifact actually has some rather interesting history with your new father," George told him. "I'm not sure you shouldn't be asking him this question."

"I will be, you nitwit," Severus snapped. "But I wanted to know what I was getting into so I wanted to ask you first. So are you going to tell me or not?"

"Of course I am," George rolled his eyes. "That's why you asked me, isn't it? As long as you will talk to Harry about it at some point."

"I will," Severus nodded. "I just wanted to know a bit more before I did."

"Well, then," George told him. "A black quill is also sometimes called a blood quill. It's a bloody dark artifact that can rightfully be used to sign certain types of contracts, or it can un-rightfully be used to torture people. It's a quill that you can write with, but it uses your blood as ink and it carves whatever you write into the back of your other hand as you write. It heals over pretty quickly, but if you repeat it, well, it can scar."

"But Harry has a scar on the back of his left hand . . ."

"Which is why you need to ask him about it, mate," George said firmly, all joking banished from his tone. "I am not the one to tell you those details."

"Have you ever had it?" Severus asked, curious.

"Once," George nodded, showing Severus the back of his left hand. "You can barely see the scar since it was only the once."

"What happened?" he breathed, trying to imagine George cooperating with someone making him slice his hand open with a quill.

"I was caught in some mischief," George admitted. "It was noble mischief, however. It was in school, and the person that fancied herself as headmistress of the school thought that she would keep Fred, me and the rest of a select group down by this punishment. But it didn't work, obviously."

"What did you do?"

"Amazing mischief," George smiled. "The original mischief that got us the quill was actually a sort of study group for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, because the Professor of said class, Delores Umbridge, was refusing to teach us anything practical. She thought a theoretical knowledge was enough, which many of us disagreed with. So a group of us formed a club, which we nicknamed the 'DA' in order to learn. It stood for 'Defense Association' or 'Dumbledore's Army' depending on how cheeky we were feeling at the time. Your new father was our teacher."

"Harry?"

"Yes, Harry," George confirmed. "He was, of course, younger than me, in fact he was only a fifth year and hadn't even taken his OWLs. But he had fought Voldemort several times, killed a basilisk, competed in the Tri-Wizard tournament against adults, fought off hundreds of dementors, and could perform this wicked hard defense spell called a Patronus spell. I know he doesn't look like much just looking at him, but your new dad is a complete whizz at defeating the dark arts, and he taught the rest of us."

"So what happened?"

"The pink toad Umbridge became headmistress she used Veritas Serum on one of the DA members named Marietta something or another, I don't remember, and she spilled. Umbridge found our meeting, and she busted it up, giving all of us the quill. But if she thought Hogwarts was unruly before that, well, she had another think coming. Fred and I outdid ourselves. We decided that our future no longer held academic success, so we didn't care about anything. We turned a corridor into a swamp, we created these amazing fireworks that multiplied if you tried to destroy them . . . well, it was pretty awesome. There was nothing she could do to stop us because the other professors wouldn't help her, and she wasn't exactly the most talented witch ever. I swear the other professors were even helping us if they could do it without being found out. And Peeves helped out a treat as well."

"So why does Draco want me to talk to Harry about the black quill?"

"Because it was a lot different for him," George tried to explain. "He had it way more than anybody else, I'm not sure but I think she started doing it to him first, maybe from the very beginning. He didn't fight back like Fred and I did. It's odd really, he was this massive badass at the dark arts – if she had been some sort of dark creature or something to defeat he would have had her down in a treat. But he took it, and not only didn't fight back but didn't tell anyone that would put a stop to it. And the worst thing about it, well, was that he didn't tell Professor Snape."

…

Severus was glad that Harry was tucking him in that evening for bed, because he had to admit that the visit with George raised more questions than it answered. Why would his father just take the black quill and not tell Professor Snape? Surely the professor would have protected him! What was he thinking?

"Your eyes look full of questions tonight," Harry mused as he tucked in the child. "Do you have any requests for a bedtime story?"

"I do, in fact," Severus told him. "I have heard that there is a story you have that I need to hear for my own mental health."

"Which story is that?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"The story of Delores Umbridge and the black quill."

Harry sighed, sat back in his chair, and folded his arms over his chest. He knew that some of these questions would come up at some point, he just didn't expect it to be so soon. "Where did you hear about her?" he asked quietly.

"Draco," Severus answered, feeling no compulsion to protect the prat. If it was supposed to be a secret, oh well, he guessed he blew it. "I asked George too, but he wouldn't tell me very much either, except that apparently you are some sort of badass in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That was mostly luck and a lot of help," Harry mused. "And let's not use that language, shall we?"

"Can you tell me about it?" Severus asked. "Draco said it was important."

"Should have known," Harry replied, rubbing his face with his hands. "Well, you see, it's complicated."

"What's complicated?" Severus asked. "I already know what the black quill did, George showed me his hand and told me a bit about it. He said you had it way more than he did, and that you never told Professor Snape."

"That's true," Harry confirmed. "It was, well, complicated. It was a different time then – the ministry was taking over at Hogwarts and was sacking teachers. Everyone thought that Dumbledore would be next, and I worried that if I complained to him about my treatment that he would be sacked defending me."

"Why did she do it to you?" Severus asked. "Can you tell me the whole story?"

"It was my fifth year in school," Harry explained. "Voldemort had returned, despite our best efforts in trying to prevent it. But his return wasn't public – people disappeared, but it was all explained away. Draco's father had a lot of influence in the ministry, and he had the minister of magic convinced that Voldemort hadn't returned. So nobody believed me, and the newspaper called Dumbledore and me liars for saying he returned. And the ministry sent Delores Umbridge to be the Dark Arts Professor in order to keep me in line; trying to exert influence over Hogwarts. So the method she used for me was the black quill every time I got out of line – and that included saying that Voldemort was alive in class or arguing with anything she said."

"What happened to her?"

"She ended up taking the fall for the ministry interference at Hogwarts, and for using a dark artifact against students," Harry explained. "She went to Azkaban. She actually confessed and begged to be taken into custody. It didn't happen right away after Professor Snape found out about the quill, but I still think it was him. I just think it took him a bit to figure out how to accomplish forcing her to confess; and she did it because she was scared of the alternative. I've never been brave enough to ask him what he did, but I know it was him that did it. But I do know that after he found out about it I never had the quill again."

"But you didn't tell him."

"No," Harry acknowledged. "I didn't; not voluntarily."

"Why?" Severus asked. "Surely you could have told him without endangering Dumbledore."

Harry nodded a bit, and looked away from Severus as he contemplated his answer. "The first time she brought me to detention," Harry told his son. "She sat me down in her office. It was completely encrusted in pink, with plates of little kittens all over the walls. She had a china teapot where she poured her tea with several spoonfuls of sugar, and she smiled and smirked the whole time. It was enough to make you sick. But the worst part was, well, the worst part was that she told me to do it and I did do it. When I wrote with the quill and I realized what it did – that it used my blood and carved the words into my hand – I could have refused. What if I had told her that she was a horrible and cruel person and left the room and found Professor Snape? He would have helped me; he would never have let her abuse me."

"So why didn't you?"

"I think if she'd have done that to Ron he would have," Harry mused. "By the time she used the black quill on the others she was headmistress and they really did have to comply. When she used it on me she was merely the Dark Arts teacher and I could have protested. But there was something she said that made me think that she knew I was going to let her do it."

"What did she say?"

"She said that deep down, I knew that I deserved to be punished."

"But you didn't!" Severus protested. "Obviously Voldemort was alive! You were right!"

"I think she was right, but not in the way she thought she was," Harry confessed. "I don't think that I deserved to be punished because of saying Voldemort was alive, but I think that she knew that I thought that there was something inside that I knew was broken and thought that I deserved to be punished. That's all I learned from the Dursleys, and when she continued it, well, it felt more real than what Professor Snape told me. I think I let her do it because it felt like what I was supposed to do, like what I really deserved. And it also made me feel really ashamed – and that's why I didn't tell Professor Snape. I let a pink toad make me feel that way, and I let her do that to me. That was the real insidious part – I felt both like I deserved it and then like it was my fault for letting her do it."

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Severus nodded.

"But why would Draco want me to tell you this story?" Harry asked, shaking his head a little bit to come out of the memory. Then, he suddenly looked stricken. "Oh God . . . Merlin's sakes no . . ."

"What?" Severus asked, concerned.

"Severus, how much of my experience with Umbridge was like your experience with Miss Stradling?" Harry asked, his voice choked. "Is that why Draco told you about this?"

"I don't think I deserved Miss Stradling," Severus objected.

"Why did you let her punish you like that?" Harry pressed. "And why didn't you tell me about it? Merlin's beard I'm so thick to not see it before! It was easier to believe her censure and threats than my assurances of never leaving you or shipping you away, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was," Severus replied as if he was speaking to a stupid person. "She at least seemed logical about it."

"You believed her because she was easier to believe," Harry nodded grimly. "And you allowed her punishment of you to continue because somewhere deep inside you believe that it really is how you ought to be treated."

Severus was still and didn't answer Harry, but they both knew the truth in what he said; and how that truth had affected both of them.

"I want to take us somewhere far away from here," Harry told his ward in a soft voice. "Far away from the ministry, far away from governesses, and far away from the people who hurt us."

"Is there somewhere far enough away?" Severus asked.

"I hear the Cook Islands are nice," Harry replied with a smirk. "But no, you're right. The problem is inside of us, there's nowhere far enough away."

"So how do we fix that part?"

"For me it happened in trusting Professor Snape," Harry told him. "And Ginny, and Hermione and Ron. The more people I let in and trusted, the more I began to believe about who I was rather than who the Dursleys told me I was. I think if something happened to me like Delores Umbridge now that I wouldn't just take it."

"I didn't just take it," Severus reminded him. "I did fight back."

"But not with everything at your disposal," Harry reminded him. "If you had told me it would have ended that day, and I think deep down you knew that. You were just worried about how it might have ended, and you weren't sure you didn't deserve what she did."

"Who would you tell now?" Severus asked. "You don't have a father anymore."

"I could tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Harry considered. "If I needed help beyond the Hermione, Ginny and Ron group, of course. There's always George of course too, and Draco. Headmistress McGonagall, Minister Shacklebolt, Professor Flitwick - I also have a few contacts that you don't know that I could contact. I think that's the problem of thinking you have to rely just on yourself, your world gets really narrow. But there's actually a lot of people that would actually help me if I asked."

"I just have you lot," Severus told him.

"Would you tell me now?" Harry asked plainly. "Given the same circumstances again, would you tell me?"

Severus considered, thinking of everything he'd realized about why he didn't tell. He was tempted to say yes of course, but he knew it was more complicated than that. But then he thought of the hell his life had been for the past few weeks – the spelled canings, the threats, the constant worrying about being sent away. Did he really believe that Harry wouldn't do that? Well he had been found out – against his own wishes! – and what had happened? Ginny had dueled the evil governess, dishing out suitable revenge in the process, he had been assigned to his Grandmum for school, and now he had a mentor in Draco Malfoy. It had turned out amazingly well all told; far better than he could have wished.

"I would hope so," he answered honestly. "Seeing everything that has happened, I would be a fool not to."

"We are all fools at one time or another," Harry answered with a soft smile. "Hopefully you will be less of one than I was."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Severus smirked in what Harry swore was a perfect imitation of his adult self.

"And you can go back and tell Draco thank you for helping us understand each other a little better," Harry instructed. "How very Slytherin of him."

The End