AN: Once again, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Want to thank my brilliant Beta Raisinous Fiend, and another thank you to confusedcowuk for all the brainstorming sessions.
Summer Passes
Two days later Harry felt better; the Occlumency appeared to be working. Although only two nightmare-free nights had passed, Harry was hopeful. It was hard not to feel hopeful on such a bright summer morning, and Harry spent a few moments watching the birds play in the trees before dressing for the day. He'd just pulled on his usual loose draw-string pants and was reaching for his tee shirt when Gabriel burst into his bedroom. "Good morning, Harry. Severus sent me to tell you to hurry; we're having a breakfast meeting. So hurry up."
"Tell him I'll be there when I get there." Growling sleepily, Harry went into the loo, slamming the door to punctuate his ire. After taking care of morning business, Harry was brushing his teeth when he heard Snape call, "Potter, if you want coffee you'll have your lazy arse down here in the next sixty seconds."
Quickly finishing up, Harry stomped down the stairs, finding coffee and company in the dinning room. Locating Snape, he snarled, "Don't threaten me with my own coffee, bastard." He fixed himself a cup of morning salvation and found an empty chair, ignoring the laughter his comment provoked.
Nursing his coffee, Harry looked around the room, noting that the full Bar was present. Everyone was sitting around the table with coffee and breakfast, talking quietly. Pouring a second cup, Harry then filled his plate from the platters in the center of the table and ate his breakfast, mentally thanking Merlin he'd not been the one to prepare it. Awake now and fortified, Harry was ready to face whatever the group around him was planning. "What's with the breakfast party?" he asked.
Severus turned to Potter. "Back among the living now, brat?" He sneered. "We need to set up a schedule for your studies."
Talk went around the table, as the men discussed who would help with each subject, when they were available and the level Harry was at in that subject. Two hours of arguments, insults and laughter later, all was decided. Since Snape was living with Harry, he would help Harry with Defense an hour each morning and hold an hour of Potions in the evening. This arrangement would, of course, change once they returned to Hogwarts.
On Mondays 2-5 Devlin would be there to teach Transfiguration, Tuesdays 10-12 Vane would work with Harry to improve his dueling skills. Wednesdays were for wizard traditions and theoretical Dark Magic with Luc 1-4. On Thursdays Spencer would begin teaching Harry what he needed to know to run his estates, and Fridays Spencer would tutor Harry in Charms. Saturday mornings were set aside for Sebastian, who would help Harry gain control over his wandless magic.
Besides Snape, Harry would be seeing the most of Gabriel: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings for Blade training, and Saturday afternoons spent learning warding. When Harry looked over his schedule, he was relieved to find that at least Sunday was free. "What, no time set aside for homework?" he asked sarcastically.
Snape raised an eyebrow and drawled lazily, "That's why you have Sunday free."
Harry banged his head on the table and muttered, "Sadists. I'd be better off with Voldemort as a tutor," eliciting laughter from the group.
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Two weeks later Harry remembered his comment, now knowing beyond a doubt that Voldemort would have been kinder. He found Transfigurations with Devlin interesting; he learned a lot with the individual attention. But Devlin really was a bastard, and he pushed Harry to his limit. Harry often left the lesson with a concentration headache.
There was one funny moment, however, on the first day. Devlin had Harry transfigure a pillow into a snake, and when the snake hissed something Harry laughed and hissed back. Devlin's mouth fell open and he shouted, "Severus, come here. You'll never believe this."
Snape strode into the room a moment later. "Why are you screaming like a demented toddler, Devlin?" he demanded.
"Hush. Just wait a minute; Luc will want to see this too." Devlin rushed to the fireplace and made a hurried firecall to Sinister Place. Severus looked over at Potter and raised an eyebrow in question; the brat just nodded towards the snake. Understanding what caused Devlin's reaction, Severus couldn't keep the smug smirk off his face.
Less than a minute later Devlin stood up and stepped back to allow Luc to step through the Floo. "Now what was so important that you had to interrupt my research?" Luc asked sulkily.
Pointing at the snake and then at Harry, Devlin said, "The boy's a Parselmouth, he was talking to the damned snake. Harry, show them."
Harry obliged, hissing a 'hello, how are you?' to the snake, which caused Luc to sit hard in the nearby armchair and moan, "A Parselmouth, Black Magic, surviving the killing curse, killing Voldemort… by Merlin, brat, can you never be normal?"
Snape laughed so hard he had to sit on the couch. Harry turned to him. "I thought everyone knew. It was all over school second year, and wasn't it in the papers?"
Devlin whirled around and demanded, "Severus, you knew? Why didn't you tell us?"
Severus composed himself; he always loved knowing more than others. "Potter, the headmaster never allowed word to get out. At that time the papers wouldn't print the story without confirmation, which was not forthcoming. And yes, Devlin, I had the privilege of hearing Potter speaking in Parseltongue firsthand in his second year."
Harry sat at the other end of the couch. "That was when everyone went around saying I was the heir of Slytherin, and the whole diary of Tom Riddle thing happened. Not to mention the Basilisk."
All three of the older men stared at Harry in shock. It was Severus who asked, "There actually was a Basilisk? What happened to it?"
"Didn't Dumbledore tell you? Tom Riddle's sixteen year old memory set it on me; Fawkes brought me the sword of Gryffindor, but when I stabbed it the damned thing bit me. If it wasn't for Fawkes I would have died. Thought I was dying, so I took the Basilisk tooth out of my arm and stabbed ol' Tom's diary. Never would have guessed poking a fang though a book would have made him dissolve like that. But it worked and Ginny was fine." Harry told the brief version to three stunned men.
Devlin summed up all their thoughts. "You are the most unusual kid I've ever met; you killed a Basilisk at twelve? Was it fully grown?"
Turning to Snape, Harry asked, "I don't know, how big are they when they're grown? The one down there was about forty feet, I would guess."
Snape shook his head. "It was fully grown, Potter." Snape's voice sounded strained.
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If Devlin was a bastard, then Vane was relentless. Harry spent more time picking himself up off the floor after being hit with a hex or curse in lessons with Vane than he ever had during DADA. Vane certainly deserved his Mastery in Dueling. It soon became clear to Harry that he had a lot to learn before he would pose any real competition to Vane. The older man's knowledge of advanced spells and his skill at strategy far surpassed Harry's. Vane was unrelenting but patient as he taught Harry both. In return, Harry was putting forth his very best effort. He was aware that this skill could very well save his life.
Wizarding traditions were as boring as the Dark Arts were fascinating. The Dark Arts were on occasion gruesome, often required a high price to use, but they were nevertheless intriguing. Harry was pleased to hear they were only working on the theory for now; he wasn't sure about actually using them. Luc was an excellent teacher, funny and well-versed in the subject, due to his passion for the Dark Arts. Harry was learning a surprising amount of the History of Magic in the process, discovering just how closely related the two were.
While Luc managed to teach Harry a great deal, he was still an irritating prat. The bloody man teased and tormented Harry at every turn. However, knowing Luc didn't mean any of the mocking comments, Harry always felt free to send a 'Fuck off, Luc' the bastard's way.
Spencer, Harry decided, was a demon. The man knew more about finances and estates than Harry had ever believed there was to know. They spent Thursday mornings buried in numbers and financial strategies, and Harry's mind reeled at all the information Spencer poured out. On those days the man had a one track mind − money. Fridays were much better. Charms were something Spencer enjoyed, but they were not his passion like the financial world. He actually reminded Harry of Professor Flitwick in those lessons, easygoing and fun.
Learning to control his wandless magic was going to kill him, Harry moaned after the first lesson. Sebastian confiscated his wand then proceeded to laze about on the couch and instruct Harry to summon everything: a pillow to relax on, a blanket for Sebastian's legs, a glass and some brandy. Harry spent most of the lesson muttering about the 'lazy bastard making him do his work,' and attempting to follow directions. It got worse; Sebastian decreed that the best way for Harry to learn was not to have his wand on hand. Snape was now in possession of said wand; the wand was given to Harry at the beginning of lessons requiring it and handed back to Snape after lessons.
Out of all of them, Gabriel was the worst. He yelled, and he pushed Harry around the training room at the point of a sword. Harry spent more time in the bath soaking sore muscles after blade practice than he ever had after Quidditch practice. He was convinced that he would never master a sword; it was too unwieldy, and he felt bloody awkward trying to swing it. Knives were a different matter altogether, and the first time he wielded one felt like the first time he was on a broom. Give him a dagger and he was a natural, and the shorter blade felt like it belonged in his hand. That didn't stop Gabriel from mopping the floor with him, but he was confident that with knives at least he could one day equal his teacher. He was quite looking forward to that day.
Warding was interesting, and Harry diligently learned all he could, the thought of being able to protect his home and the homes of his loved ones spurring him on. Gabriel was extremely knowledgeable and eager to share that knowledge. Harry had a notebook full of warding spells and he practiced them at every opportunity, determined to master the skill as soon as he could.
At first Potions with Snape were tense, because Harry could not help the trepidation that he felt. Potions had always been a difficult subject for him, both academically and because of the tension in the classroom. However, Snape was true to his word, and he and Harry worked together to determine the recipe instructions that worked best for Harry.
Snape also took the time to demonstrate each potion before expecting Harry to make it. Harry soon discovered why the man was a Potions master − he was truly gifted. Harry never saw Snape so much as glance at book while brewing even the most complex potions. Snape would also adjust his potions depending on the freshness and size of the ingredients, and he promised that before Harry took his N.E.W.T's Harry would be able to do the same.
Defense Against the Dark Arts had been Harry's best subject at school; it was no different now. Harry seemed to have a gift for it. Snape was still quick to insult, but much of the heat had gone out of the snarky words, and their relationship had progressed to the point were Harry could answer insult with insult and neither man minded in the least. In fact, they both enjoyed the verbal sparring.
Harry discovered that in DADA Snape was an excellent teacher. Apparently he hated that so many students disdained the Potions which were Snape's abiding passion, but Defense was more of a hobby. A lifelong interest in the Dark Arts naturally translated into a well-honed defense against them. Snape was able to teach Harry more about Defense in a short two weeks than Harry had learned in his first two years combined.
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One week before Snape and Harry were due to return to Hogwarts to prepare for the coming school term, the two sat on the porch enjoying a quiet evening. Harry lounged on the porch swing, his foot on the ground occasionally pushing the swing. Smoking contemplatively, he thought about what he'd accomplished in such a short time. Relaxing in a wicker chair, bare feet on the porch railing, Snape was reading a potions manual. Harry raised his head and looked over to where Snape was reading. "I've been thinking," he started.
Severus never looked up from his book. "Ah, and here I thought it was the fag I smelt burning," he drawled.
"Be quiet, git, I want to have a party before we go back to Hogwarts," Harry stated.
"It is your house; you don't need my permission to entertain. If you would be so kind as to keep the noise to a reasonable level, I would appreciate it," Severus replied.
"I wasn't asking permission, I want you to be there. I'm planning to invite the Bar, and the Weasleys, Tonks and Remus, and Hermione. I was thinking this Sunday; that way it won't interfere with my studies." Crushing out his cigarette, Harry waited for Snape's response.
Severus glanced up. "With such an esteemed guest list it would be churlish of me to decline your gracious invitation, so long as the Weasley twins' antics are controlled," he drawled.
Rolling his eyes, Harry complained, "Can't you just say 'yes, that sounds fine' instead of all the big words? And I'll tell Fred and George that there are no pranks allowed."
"As you are able to comprehend my 'big words', why does it matter if I choose to make use of such vocabulary? I enjoy words and the unlimited variety of combinations. Your party is a fine idea. What time were you planning to hold this engagement?" Severus closed his book and gave his attention to Potter.
Harry sat up and sipped his own tea. "About six. I need to pick up a few things beforehand, though. So, I was wondering, maybe we could go out? I know it's not safe for me to go alone," he said quickly, hoping Snape would agree.
After a moment's thought, Snape nodded. "Well, I can always use fresh ingredients. Where do you wish to do your shopping, Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade?" Severus queried.
"Either will work, but I like Diagon Alley better. Why?" Harry asked, relieved.
"It would be wise to inform Lupin and a few other trusted people of our excursion; more eyes are always welcome in Diagon Alley," Severus said seriously. "I will inform Lupin this evening. We can go tomorrow after your lesson with Spencer, if that suits you."
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"I had forgotten the streams of screaming brats present in Diagon Alley so close to the start of term. Potter, make your purchases quickly, I do not wish to spend my last days of freedom from these dunderheads in their presence," Severus growled. Diagon Alley was overflowing with obnoxious children and their equally obnoxious parents, all shopping for the upcoming term.
Obeying for once in his life, Potter walked faster to their destination. The house-wares shop was less crowded as they sold no school supplies; after giving his list to the shopkeeper, Potter made his decisions on plates and glasses quickly. Apparently the elder Potters had not entertained often, and the house lacked a sufficient number of place settings, given everyone Potter had invited planned to attend.
Dobby had already procured the necessary groceries, and Harry and Snape had picked up a significant supply of alcohol and wine. The dishes were the last stop of the day. Soon, Harry turned to Snape, saying, "That's it, we can go home now."
Exiting the shop, the two men walked up Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, intent on Flooing home. They stopped short, however, when blood-curdling screams sounded behind them. Harry whirled around and his blood chilled. "Dementors," was all he could whisper.
"Yes, and it appears some of my ex-compatriots are controlling them." Severus quickly took in the situation. "The one on the left is Greyback, a werewolf; next to him is Goyle, I believe. The other two are the Carrows, if my guess is correct. If you would attempt to drive away the dementors, I will distract the Death Eaters until Lupin and the others arrive, they should be close by."
Harry didn't bother to respond, charging towards the dementors surrounding a group of kids. As he ran he pulled out his wand; once he was within range, he called out, "Expecto Patronum!"
The silvery stag erupted from his wand and charged the dementors. Catching one beneath where its ribs should be, Prongs tossed the dementor high in the air. Turning from the frightened children, the remaining dementors glided towards Harry. Prongs intercepted them, circling around them and gathering them in an ever closing circle. Seeing no mercy and no way to feed, the dementors floated away.
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Meanwhile, Severus dodged the mob of fleeing people, keeping the Death Eaters in sight. Ducking behind a barrel that smelled of frog entrails, he slowly made his way behind his former comrades. Once in position, he stunned Goyle who was standing closest to him, smirking when the others failed to notice their fallen colleague. Taking advantage of the distraction the screaming hordes made, Severus snuck closer.
One of the Carrows − he never could tell them apart − spotted Potter. Hearing the man start the killing curse, Severus gave up his hiding spot and dove at the masked man, hitting him in the mid-section. While this action stopped the curse, it gave the other Death Eaters a chance to curse him, which they took with alacrity. Upon hearing the downed man's impact with the ground, Greyback turned and yelled, "Crucio." The curse hit Severus and the Carrow brother he landed on.
Harry sighed in relief when the dementors fled; looking around for Snape, he watched as the idiot man jumped a Death Eater. The big Death Eater in tight robes nearby hit them with a curse. Hearing Snape's initial outcry, which was quickly silenced, Harry took off running once again.
Drawing near the Death Eaters Harry drew forth a ball of the Black Fire and threw it at the big Death Eater, causing the man to drop his wand and end the curse. Harry thought it was the one Snape called Greyback. The Death Eater lunged at Harry suddenly; there was no time for Harry to dodge.
Greyback landed on him and laughed. Harry shoved at the heavy man's chest, rolling and bucking, trying to dislodge him, but the Death Eater was too heavy. Greyback leaned close and Harry could smell his fetid breath and see the yellowed teeth; just before the teeth reached his neck, the weight was suddenly gone.
Quickly rolling away, Harry watched as Remus kicked Greyback repeatedly. The Death Eater lay on his side, curled up to protect his ribs. Leaving Remus with his prey, Harry found Tonks dueling with an unknown Death Eater. Seeing that she had the upper hand, he went to help Snape up. Pulling the older man to his feet, Harry couldn't help but remark, "That was an awfully Gryffindor move you pulled, jumping on that guy like that."
Severus flinched at what he considered the ultimate insult, but couldn't disagree. "Shut up, Potter, and bind these two incompetents while I attempt to pull your pet werewolf away before he kills Greyback."
Limping to Lupin, Severus had to physically pull him off the unconscious form on the ground. "Lupin, he is not going anywhere, control yourself or do you need a choke chain?"
"The filthy bastard tried to bite Harry." Lupin struggled against Snape's hold. "He's the one that infected me; no way in hell was I going to let him get his filthy paws on him. Where is Harry, is he okay?" Panting, Remus fought to control his urge to kill the fallen werewolf.
"Potter is fine; he appears to have escaped without a scratch. Bind the mangy creature. Your paramour is binding hers and Potter has taken care of the other two. The Ministry Aurors should be arriving soon." Severus made his way back to Potter. "Are you injured?" he asked the young man.
Harry looked up at Snape. "I don't think so. My back's a little sore from hitting the dirt with that heavy bastard on top of me, but other than that I'm fine."
Harry glanced around the street; people were no longer running, but instead staring at them. He could see a group of red-robed Aurors pushing through the crowd towards them. "I hope to Merlin we don't have to go to the Ministry to describe what happened. Think they'll take Tonks's word for it?"
"Not a chance in hell," was the response, and it proved true. The prisoners were transported to holding cells and the four defenders were taken to the Ministry for questioning. Harry watched in amusement as Snape ruthlessly turned the tables on the Aurors and questioned them on what the Ministry knew about the attack.
It turned out that Sturgis Podmore was unhappy that he ended up in Azkaban. He felt the Order and Dumbledore should have done more to prevent it. Podmore overheard Remus telling Tonks about the planned outing and let it slip to one of the Carrows as his revenge against the Order. Podmore was quickly arrested and held for trial with the Death Eaters. Harry and Severus spent four hours telling the story of the attack and answering questions, until finally they were allowed to go home.
Though it was late by the time they arrived, neither man was ready to go to sleep, and they sat companionably in the living room, smoking and sipping good scotch. After several minutes, Severus spoke, "I was impressed today; you followed direction and disposed of the dementors on your own."
"I also want to express my thanks for your assistance with Greyback." Severus had no intention of telling Potter why he had needed the assistance. There was no need to let the brat know just how far Severus would go to protect him.
"You don't need to thank me, we'll call it even. Remus told me the guy you jumped was trying to kill me. You saved my life again."
Damn the brat and his werewolf, thought Snape. "I was unaware he was aiming the curse at you. Nevertheless, I would have done the same for anyone." There was no way Severus was going to admit to caring what happened to the brat.
The amused, knowing grin he received in response was not reassuring. "I left a bruise reducing potion in your room," he drawled, keeping a calm façade. "Take it tonight before you sleep; it should prevent any lingering soreness tomorrow."
Harry didn't know why Snape kept acting like he did, but it didn't matter. Harry was happy Snape didn't hate him and would look out for him. The way Harry saw it, they were friends and that's what friends did for each other. Look out for each other, and give each other bruise potions. "Thanks, Severus, I'm going up now. Night." He left the other man brooding by the fire.
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It was Sunday; the weather was warm and the summer night clear. Harry was excited about his first party and he couldn't stop fidgeting. His guests would be arriving soon, and he'd already double checked everything. Dobby had outdone himself. The food was set up buffet style so everyone could eat when they wanted to, the drinks were ready to be poured, and the house was spotless.
Harry had dressed in black slacks and a green button up shirt with a set of his new black robes undone over them. Wandering into the living room, he sat down; a couple of minutes later, Snape walked in, dressed in robes much more casual than he wore at school. The black robes were open over black slacks and a starched white shirt. "Why don't you dress like that at school?" Harry asked with a smirk. "Not intimidating enough?"
Rolling his eyes, Severus drawled, "My teaching robes are spelled to protect against whatever concoction the idiots manage to blow up. The fact that they lend a menacing aurora is merely a coincidence."
Severus looked over the young man before him; the brat managed to appear neatly groomed for once. "Luc did a marvelous job with your wardrobe," he admitted. "Tell me, Potter, who taught you to control the rat's nest you call hair?"
"When it grew longer it got easier to deal with, and Gabriel taught me how to pull it up when I wanted to." Just as Harry finished his comment, the doorbell rang, and he hopped up and smoothed down his robes.
Taking a deep breath to tamper down the nervous excitement, he opened the door to the Weasley clan and Hermione. While he was greeting his friends and family, Remus and Tonks joined them, followed shortly by the Bar Sinister. Harry was a little nervous about how his old friends would mix with his new ones.
An hour later all his fears were laid to rest, as the two groups mingled surprisingly well. Hermione had cornered Spencer and was grilling him about wizard accounting, and Ron and Sebastian were arguing Quidditch teams.
The twins were trying to pick Snape's brain for ideas for new products; Remus and Devlin were happily engaged in a discussion about Animagus transformations. It seemed Gabriel knew a lot about Muggles and was glad to share his findings with Mr. Weasley; Mrs. Weasley was being charmed by Luc.
Tonks and Vane appeared to be comparing Auror strategies. Harry was pleased everyone was getting along; he sat happily with Ginny, talking about what he had learned, and listening to her plans for the upcoming term. Soon everyone headed for the dinning room and refreshments.
Severus was enjoying a quiet corner, relieved to have escaped the twin terrors, when he was joined by Devlin and Vane. Devlin spoke first, "Harry has loyal friends. He seems to inspire loyalty in those around him."
Severus sipped his drink and raised his eyebrow, wondering where this conversation was heading. "He appears unaware of it," Vane elaborated. "Frankly, he seems surprised that everyone agreed to attend tonight. How can a young man with such potential and power be so completely overwhelmed by the mere fact that we would willingly spend our free time with him? We've all noticed how grateful he is for our help. He thanks us after every lesson."
"His filthy Muggle relatives raised him as a burden; they called him 'freak' and 'boy' most of the time," Severus spat, his face showing his disgust with Potter's aunt and uncle.
"Severus, I didn't know you still thought Muggles to be inferior." Luc joined the group in time to hear the last comment.
"Not all Muggles, just those filthy creatures that raised Potter. I had to merge our minds to teach him Occlumency, and I saw what they did to him. They used him as a house-elf; Potter was responsible for breakfast at five," he said bitterly. "The brat couldn't even reach the stove without aid of a stool. When they were not in need of a verbal punching bag or a servant, they locked him away or ignored him. Why he's not taking the place of the Dark Lord is a mystery to me," Severus growled.
The three members of the Bar looked aghast. "Did they beat him?" asked Devlin.
Severus refilled his glass before answering, "It's a small mercy they did not. I saw nothing beyond neglect and verbal abuse. Mostly punishment came in the form of denying him food or locking him in a cupboard." He sighed, admitting softly, "What I believed to be arrogance, being so sure he could do it himself, turned out to be self-reliance. Potter has never had anyone to rely on. I did him a grave disservice by judging him so harshly based on his father. The brat's nothing like James Potter beyond a certain recklessness. In fact, his temper and fierce protectiveness is more like Lily."
Devlin studied Severus closely for a minute before speaking. "So that's the reason behind your attitude towards him. When you first brought him to us it was a business agreement. Now you treat him like you do us, like a friend."
Devlin ignored the glare Severus shot at him. "Don't worry, my old friend, your secret is safe with us, but the boy will discover it on his own. Harry Potter is surprisingly perceptive. If you ever decide to go after the Muggles, let us know, we'll help. Now I have a gift to give a young man, if you'll excuse me."
Severus damned the fact that Devlin knew him so well, but he wasn't prepared to carry out his revenge on the Muggles yet. Luc recognized the expression on his friend's face. "You don't plan to kill the Muggles, do you?" he asked curiously.
Severus leveled a glare at him. "Of course not. That would call too much attention; I only intend to make them miserable."
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Harry snuck out the front door; he didn't want to hear Mrs. Weasley or Hermione lecture him about smoking right now. He was in too good a mood. Leaning against the wall, he lit his cigarette and took a drag when he heard booted feet approaching. Turning, he saw Devlin walking towards him. "If you don't plan to lecture me about the evils of smoking, you can stay," he grumbled at the older man.
Devlin gave him a wicked smile. "Mr. Potter, far be it from me to lecture about corrupting the youth. I gave Gabriel his first fag when he was fifteen. Actually, I intended to ask if I could beg one from you. I was unaware smoking was allowed here and neglected to bring my own."
Taking out the pack, Harry tossed it to Devlin who withdrew a cigarette and tossed it back. Harry relaxed, enjoying the warm evening and the knowledge his friends were nearby when Devlin spoke again. "Gabriel says you enjoy knives and that you show a great deal of aptitude in wielding them. I don't know if you're aware, but daggers happen to be my weapon of choice, besides my wand." Devlin eyed Harry speculatively before adding, "Very few wizards are interested in knives. Most choose the sword; it's flashier and more socially acceptable. Daggers are considered an assassin's tool."
Harry looked up at Devlin, taking in the pale green eyes studying him. "The sword is okay, it's just it feels awkward, too big. But the knives feel right, like they fit or belong."
Nodding, Devlin said, "Yet Gabriel says you have a sword tattooed on your back."
Harry took another drag. "It's a symbol, that I'm a weapon, not my weapon of choice. Before I started training with Gabriel I'd never held anything but a sword." With a sigh, Harry continued, "While a dagger wouldn't have done me much good against that Basilisk, there aren't many of those around. Since I spend so much time fighting wizards I'd rather have a dagger."
Devlin nodded and smoked his cigarette; they stood in companionable silence for several minutes until Devlin seemed to reach a decision. He reached in his pocket and withdrew a wooden box, enlarging it.
The box was a little over a foot long and four inches thick. Opening it, Devin slowly approached Harry. Inside were two matching silver daggers, about twelve inches in length, with wickedly sharp blades. The blades gleamed in the moonlight and Harry could see the grips were shaped like a coiled snake − the tail making up the guard and the head the pommel, with two small emeralds for the eyes.
Harry stared appreciatively at them and whispered, "They're beautiful."
Devlin agreed. "Yes, but very deadly."
Harry looked away from the knives and up at Devlin. "That's what I meant; I've never seen anything that is both beautiful and deadly before."
Devlin snorted. "Look in the mirror sometime, kid." Harry shook his head at the comment.
Closing the box, Devlin secured the hasp before handing it to Harry. "They belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. If you look closely at the blades, you can see SS engraved on them. I want you to have them. It's only fitting, you killed Slytherin's monster and inherited the gift he was famous for. Now use Slytherin's blades to protect yourself."
Harry stood in shock for a long minute before sputtering, "I can't accept them. They are probably priceless. They belong in a museum on display or something." Harry tried to hand the box containing the precious blades back to Devlin.
Laughing, Devlin stuck his hands in his pockets. "They belong to you now, Harry. I can think of no one more deserving." Having said what he wanted, Devlin walked back into the house, leaving a dumbstruck Harry Potter holding the box.
When Harry regained his wits, he carefully shrunk the box with the daggers, placed it in his pocket, and went to find Snape. Hopefully he could convince Devlin to take them back. Harry didn't feel he deserved such a gift.
It took Harry a while to track Snape down. He had to stop several times to talk to friends. Mrs. Weasley's interrogation on his eating habits took quite a bit of time to escape, but with the help of the twins he managed. Finally he located Snape in the breakfast room, having an intense discussion with Luc.
Not wanting to interrupt but desperately needing to talk to the man, Harry spoke up. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but, Severus, I really need to talk to you, it's important."
Noticing Potter's serious expression and his fidgeting, Severus asked, "Luc, if you would excuse us for a moment."
Gracefully excusing himself, Luc left the room. Potter, however, still stood in the doorway, looking desperate and uncomfortable. "Potter, sit. Speak," Severus snapped out.
The brat all but collapsed in the chair Luc just vacated. Pulling a plain wooden box from his pocket he shoved it across to Severus, saying, "Devlin just gave me those, and he won't take them back. Severus, you have to make him take them back. I don't deserve them, and they're too bloody expensive. What was he thinking giving them to me?"
Tuning out Potter's ranting, Severus opened the box. Upon seeing the contents, he complained, "Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, bring me a drink before you spring shite like this on me. In fact, why don't you go get us both a drink."
Potter left the room; hopefully the brat would bring the whole bottle. What was Devlin thinking? Giving a sixteen year old Slytherin's daggers? The blades could be dipped in the most potent of poisons. They are meant for someone who needs such protection not a… wait, that's why the infuriating man did it. Potter of all people needs that kind of protection. The brat doesn't want them? No, he said he didn't deserve them. He doesn't seem to realize that the Bar has accepted them as one of their own… hell, I didn't realize until tonight.
Harry did bring the bottle, and after pouring Snape a glass he poured himself a healthy measure and sipped it, even though he wanted to gulp it straight from the bottle. He waited to Snape to say something. Snape took a couple of gulps, looking locked in thought. Finally, he looked up at Harry. "Potter, try to understand that Devlin and the others consider you one of their own now," he said softly. "Therefore they would do and give anything to protect you. These blades are just the physical evidence of that. If you were to give them back, or if I were to do it for you, it would be a rejection of them. Surely that is not what you have in mind."
Harry was speechless; while he felt closer to the Bar than he'd ever felt towards anyone else in such a short time, he couldn't believe that powerful men like that would consider him one of them. "No! I don't want to reject them, but why? They're all… powerful and… smart. How in the world can I be their equal, why would they want me?"
Severus shook his head before speaking in an exasperated tone, "Potter… Harry, you are not a stupid person. I, for one, would not be here if you were. You know you're powerful. Perhaps you are not fully trained, but the power is there. And as much as I loathe admitting it, you are… intelligent. Stop letting the lies those filthy Muggles filled your head with dictate your life."
"You are free of them and in a position to define yourself, as you truly are not what you've been led to believe whether by your foul relations or the headmaster." Severus handed the box back to Potter and left the brat to think about what he'd said.
Harry did not try to return the daggers, and after his guests left and the house was put to rights, Harry spent a long time thinking about Snape's comments. Maybe he was right. Maybe Harry really did deserve to belong, and to define himself. But what did he want that definition to be?