There are probably a few things I should have stated at the beginning. Remus, Sirius, Severus and Lucius have been together since they graduated Hogwarts. This means certain things have obviously changed for Harry, and the canon of the series. Sirius was never accused of murdering James &Lily, Pettigrew was never Ron's rat and various other things are different that I won't mention for fear of spoilers.

This story is drawing to a close but I thought you should know. If you liked this one, then who knows, a sequel may be in the offing. Anyway, I have exams for another 11days, so I can't guarantee when the ending will be, but in terms of chapters, it will be soon.

It is dark. For Severus it will always be dark. Always. So skilled at protecting himself from the worst kinds of Dark Magic, he never guessed he'd be attacked with simple Muggle chemicals. Death Eaters are supposed to hate Muggles, half bloods and Muggleborn alike, yet it was well known Pettigrew was Muggleborn and that Avery was maybe, maybe not as pure as he would have you believe. And then there's the Dark Lord, but anyone who knows his old name knows not to mention it, or his ancestry, unless they wish to be forced to take out their own eyes with heated knives.

Poor Regulus found that out, found out what happens to people who commit two sins- being weak, unresisting to Imperious, and being unable to keep their mouths shut and thoughts guarded. Or should it be mind's shut and mouth guarded? For it wasn't for a stupid comment that Regulus Black was blinded, it was for what he let leak out of his mind.

I hate you. Filthy half-blood traitor. You aren't fit to lead a group of Muggles.

Regulus always had a rather unreasoning hatred of Muggles, one Severus suspected stemmed from his brother's defection, and befriending of 'trash' like Lilly Evans, the wolf, and Pettigrew. Yet, despite this, Severus and he were friends. Severus neither hid nor advertised his ancestry, and so when Regulus had found out he was able to make an exception for the dark little man who'd befriended him. You're all right Snape, you can't help who your father was, he'd said, never seeing the hypocrisy in his words. It's not like he was a Muggle…just a half-blood himself. I think your children will be pureblood again…then Regulus had laughed. He shook his head. I'm being stupid.

And in the dark, sometimes, he could see him. See his eyes; see his hands steadily moving the hot knife towards his face, that look of bliss on his face.

Then the screams.

He screamed, even as blood spilled down his face. He kept screaming, even as his hands moved towards his other eye. Severus remembered how he shook, underneath the heavy black robes. How grateful he was for Lucius, who stood steadily and whispered in a private corner of his mind "I love you."

Lucius and the others reminded him of why they were doing it all.

"Severus?"

Severus looked up, as his name was spoken, out of habit. He wondered idly how long it would take before he lost that habit. How long it would take before his hands became as fast as his eyes had been at scanning the paper.

"Remus?"

"You okay?"

"Of course." Snape said shortly. Then he sighed, raised a hand to his face and rubbed his brow. "I'm worried too you know. But Harry will be fine."

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe…before he gets back we should talk."

Despite himself, Severus blushed, then, to hide his embarrassment, scowled.

Remus hid his amusement. "Harry…well he appears to have some feelings for you."

"I don't see the use of talking of this." Severus said in a dangerous tone. "Mr Potter will know at ten how he feels. Whatever pent up teenage hormones may have compelled him to do; I doubt his real heart is in it."

Remus smiled, and wrapped his arms around the seated man's shoulders from behind, resting his head on the Potions Master's shoulder. "How could he resist?" he whispered playfully.

Severus kept reading.

Sirius, unable to help himself, had kept searching Diagon Alley ever after the others had left. He wasn't sure what was driving him, whether it was the thought of what James would do to him in the Afterlife if he let his son get hurt, or if there was a more personal reason. His early desire to be something of an uncle to Harry was jarring sharply with a newer desire that had him disgusted with himself, and ever more determined to find the boy. Young man.

He'd given it a rest at last, stopping to buy himself a drink, but before he could raise the glass to his lips, a hand reached out and took it from him. Lucius Malfoy emptied the alcohol gracefully into a nearby pot plant, and smirked at Sirius' scowl.

"Sirius Alphard Black, cheap whiskey is the domain of pubescent boys and the very poor. You are neither of those, however you choose to dress." He said raising his eyebrows loftily at Sirius's mud splattered robes.

"How can you just-?"

"Shush." Lucius interrupted. "I know what you are going to say and that you will regret it. We are worried, yet able to act like adults, stay calm. Is that possible for you?"

Sirius stayed silent, emotions warring. Anger, at Lucius' patronizing, and then, he realised the kindness with which the cold man spoke. "I know something adults do." He said cheekily, making a joke, as he always did, to defuse the tension.

Lucius smiled darkly. "So do I. We wait." He said, ignoring Sirius' scowl.

Some hours passed. The afternoon faded in this atmosphere of quiet tension.

"Do we actually know the hour he was born in?"

"10:41pm. Nearly the same time as Sev here." Sirius said.

"So we have almost 4 hours to worry about before Severus will be able to find him." Remus said anxiously.

The Potions Master coughed. "You will feel him too. Trust me. Probably Mr Black there first, seeing as they are already connected spiritually."

Sirius and Remus stared uncomprehendingly. Severus correctly interpreted the silence.

"The godfather ritual? Ringing a bell dogboy?" Severus sneered.

Sirius laughed, bared his teeth. "Quiet you leathery old bat. Say something useful or just flap your way on out of here."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Where is Luc?" Sirius asked then, the only one who both had, and could get away with, a nickname for the Malfoy heir.

"Contacting various persons." Lucius re-entered the room in time to answer that question. "I have people checking all through Diagon Alley- our individual notoriety makes questioning the public ourselves unfeasible."

Harry opened his eyes. The room was light and bright, to his surprise. He found himself in the middle of a large open room, with elegant furniture and large windows on the left hand side. Outside, in the afternoon sun, trees waved.

The room was quiet, and the ropes that bound Harry's arms and legs to his chair were cool on his skin. He struggled in vain for a few minutes, and then gave up. His wand lay across the room on a table. Accio wand. He thought intently, not surprised when it didn't move. He was rubbish at non verbal spells.

"Hello?" he yelled. "Anyone about?"

The door in front of him swung open, and a young man entered, saying, with an accent which held just a trace of South Africa, "So you are awake at last."

"Yeah, I'm awake…but who the hell are you?"

Harry's surprise came from more than the unusual accent or the fact that he was tied up, it came also from the young man's appearance. His skin was pale, his hair was white blond and his eyes were blue-grey. He looked, in fact, like a younger version of Lucius Malfoy.

"What's your name?" Harry said before he thought.

His captor raised an eyebrow but didn't reply. Instead, he asked a question of his own.

"Do you usually go out with your scar uncovered, Harry Potter?"

Harry raised a hand reflexively to his face, making sure his scar was covered by his hair.

"Who are you?" he said sullenly.

"We've never met, I doubt my name would mean much to you." the stranger said, carefully watching Harry's reaction.

"What am I doing here then?" Harry asked after a pause.

"I need information." The young man smiled.

"Well if you're a reporter you are wasting your time. I don't do interviews, not about me, not about anyone else."

His captor looked insulted. "I? A reporter? Please. I'm a-" he paused. "No Mr Potter I am not a reporter. I need information about one of your guardians, and not things I could get from the daily rag."

"My, my guardians?"

"My aren't we self-centered?" the young man mocked. "Think it's all about you, don't you? In fact, the only reason you are here is because you happened to storm into Diagon Alley at the right moment, completely alone. Hardly what one expects from someone who, if the Daily Prophet can be trusted, defeated Lord Voldemort himself."

"As fascinating as this is, I wish to live. Now untie me." Harry said unsteadily.

"Tell me, Potter, what are they like?"

"Who?"

"Your guardians. Mister Malfoy…is he truly in a relationship with three other men?"

"Read the Prophet." Harry replied.

"I have. It is a sensationalist rag that has connected Lucius Malfoy to the heirs of every family in Europe. I want to know." His face was strangely intent as he stared at Harry, eyes glittering.

"Why?"

"Potter don't ask me that! I am asking the questions here, if you haven't noticed I have a wand and you are tied to a chair. Now speak."

"Will you hurt me if I don't?" Harry teased in a high pitched voice. He was strangely at ease in this young man's company, despite the violence done to bring him here.

The young man flushed slightly, an angry edge in his voice as he replied. "No, of course not."

He shook his head. "That would be counterproductive." He sighed.

"I expect I'll have to keep you here."

The room fell silent. Harry yawned. "What are we waiting for?" he asked, feeling surreal.

"What time exactly were you born Mr Potter?" said his companion, sitting down in a chair nearby.

Harry shrugged.

"Today is your birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well I expect someone will turn up at some point before midnight tonight."

Harry tilted his head to one side. "And you are fine with that? You know kidnapping is an offense?"

"I expect you will speak on my behalf Potter. After all, I just invited you here to play chess." His captor smiled dazzlingly, waved his wand and a chess set of carved ivory and dark oak appeared. He waved his wand again and Harry's arms were free, though his legs were still tied. "White, or black?"

"White." Harry said firmly.

"Shouldn't I know your name, if we are going to play?"

"Call me Master." he replied dryly.

Harry snorted. "As long as there are no whips and chains involved... I'll call you South."

The young man raised an elegant eyebrow, and then shrugged.

"It's 9:30 at night, and I've been sitting in this chair for hours. I need to go to the bathroom!" Harry cried. "This is torture!"

South laughed, rolled his eyes.

"Just don't do anything stupid." He said at last. "You only have to wait until midnight, and then someone will have to have come."

Harry nodded, and when the ropes disappeared, rushed into the connecting bathroom. Later, washing his hands, he peeked through the door. South stood with his back to him, studying the chessboard intently. Harry's wand lay unattended next to him.

I could rush him, grab it. He'd not look up in time. But if I really only have to stay 'till midnight…it'd be a shame not to stick it out, see what comes of this. Nevertheless, for forms sake, when Harry exited the bathroom he immediately rushed at another door. It was locked. He turned back around. South was eyeing him with understanding and a hint of surprise as he looked down and realised Harry could easily have grabbed his wand as he exited the bathroom.

"Let me tie your legs again." South said. It was not a question, but he didn't seem at all put out when Harry shook his head.

"Would you like something to eat, to drink?"

"This is weird." Harry commented, reaching for the offered goblet. He sipped slowly at the wine.

"Yes?"

"This all seems a rather elaborate plot to gain a chess partner. Is there no-one else here?"

"Of course there are others here." South answered impatiently. "Outside that door are two of my servants, for a start."

"House-elves?" Harry asked.

"No. Human, wizards but not very competent ones. Very strong though. They don't speak much English, just Afrikaans."

"So you are from South Africa?" Harry asked.

South smiled. "I'm a British citizen, my family is British too, but I did live in South Africa and go to school there."

Harry took another drink.

"Tell me about yourself, Mr Potter."

Despite the casual question, South was obviously far more interested in the adults of Harry's family, Sirius and Lucius in particular.

10:40pm.

Severus stood, dressed in his usual long black robes, one hand resting on Lucius' wrist. On his other side, Remus and Sirius stood, all serious, now that the time was at hand.

"If it is someone nearer his own age? None of us?" Remus asked.

"Then we will remember that we have each other." Sirius said quietly. Remus looked at him with respect, stroked his hand gently.

10:41pm.

The door flew open. Harry and South both started out of their chairs, turned to face the doorway. Lucius Malfoy stood there, eyes aflame, wand pointed firmly at South's face, Sirius flanking him. Behind, Remus stood guard over two heaps of crumpled robes.

"What are you doing with my godson?" Sirius exclaimed.

Lucius, meanwhile, had paled. He took a step forward, never taking his eyes of South, whose whole demeanor had changed. From the rather guarded, friendly young man Harry'd been playing chess with, to a wizard glowing with suppressed anger and defiance.

"Well, well. The cavalry has arrived." South spat bitterly.