Sirius woke up and took a deep breath. The world seemed so… relaxed. Light. Like a weight had been lifted off his back.
He wasn't in prison. He gave himself a moment to awe at that.
Getting up off the couch, he looked around the common-room imitation. It was realistic, seemed too good to be true. What had happened yesterday…?
Right. He'd been running on pure adrenaline from getting into the castle, running around as Padfoot and trying to find Pettigrew. He growled, but soothed himself. Yesterday, someone had promised to help him find Pettigrew. He had allies now. That was a happy feeling.
Who was his ally again? Yesterday was rather fuzzy. He looked to the boy's dorm and recalled snuffling through it for food. Thoughts of breakfast entered his mind and he decided to think about it while he ate.
Pulling some food from the fridge haphazardly - he really didn't care what he ate at this point, everything was tasty and wonderful in an 'I'm-alive' sort of way - he sat down on the couch again and started shovelling food into his mouth, thinking about what had happened yesterday.
Right. He'd been trapped. Then the crow had arrived and taken him away - wait, how? No, better not to think on how Hogwarts had changed, if portkeys worked - and then turned into a boy named Ari and offered his help.
In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been so trusting, but he seemed alright, so he passed it off as good luck. Right, the birds had entered - maybe one would let him mail Moony or Harry? - and Ari had given him a quick rundown of the place before leaving him to eat and sleep.
Damn. He must have really been out of it, probably a relapse from the dementors he had to get past. Getting up, he briefly made note to ask Ari about a bathroom and walked into the comfy room the girl's dorm door led to.
The room was a relaxing assortment of beanbags, tables, books and a large square of metal that sat in the room. On that metal square was a moving image of the great hall as students flooded in. Interested, Sirius sat down luxuriously on a bean bag chair and watched the screen as the scene began to unfold.
Lupin had the strange feeling something was going to happen today. He poked warily at his food and eyed the tables suspiciously. He knew it wasn't even close to the full moon, so it wasn't Moony being bitchy, at least. Something was actually wrong.
"Are you alright, Remus?" McGonagall asked, worried. "You seem on edge…"
Remus nodded reassuringly. "I'm not sure what it is, but I have a feeling something's going to happen today."
Severus huffed. "As if. Honestly, you do this all too often." He stared disapprovingly at Remus for a few lingering moments. Then, as if Remus hadn't said anything, he commented, "The students are looking excitable today."
Remus rolled his eyes and glanced at Trelawney's chair. Should he be worried that she didn't come to breakfast? Looking at his food again, he suddenly didn't feel so hungry.
Then he looked up and heard a deafening bang.
Somewhere on the fourth floor, Harry floated in the air, frowning.
"Well," he muttered, "I suppose I must've overpowered it. Damn."
From all the things that could happen, turning off gravity in the fourth floor hallway wasn't what he'd expected to happen, not at all. Hopefully someone would come rescue him soon.
Draco suddenly felt sick to his stomach and stared regretfully at his food. Had the prank gone wrong? Looking up, he watched the spectacle unfold.
At every table, people had hair in various outrageous colours. The Gryffindors all had sparkly green hair, which honestly Draco had thought was a great prank, but now he looked up at his own and cried out in dismay. His beautiful blond locks! They were… they were…
"You must be a Weasley," Blaise joked, and Draco groaned into the table. This was only the beginning.
The hall exploded into chatter, but as people kept talking a quiet chant beneath their bums began to make heads turn. Loud chatter turned into a quiet murmur as the voices got louder.
The benches were singing.
Not only were they singing, but it was a familiar tune, at least to a pair of fifth years with matching green hair. They remembered it from two years ago. It was a funeral march.
"Quiet," McGonagall ordered. "Fifty points from… from…" She looked around.
All the houses had been pranked. Even Slytherin. She couldn't simply dock the points from the unaffected house, or the rival house. Even as she watched, it got worse.
A few of the forks began to float, as well as some of the goblets. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, and people merely watched, before the utensils animated themselves and began flinging food and drink at the other tables. Feeling a sinking regret for making the food self-replenishing, McGonagall cried feebly for silence and for the madness to stop, watching as the students began to join in throwing food at the other students, slathering Slytherins in sauce, greasing Gryffindors with gravy, covering Ravenclaws with cake and even smothering Hufflepuffs in hummus. It was madness in the great hall.
Somehow, some food started hitting the roof, and McGonagall noted faintly that the sky's clouds seemed to be moving out of the way on their own. Suddenly, there was a screeching sound, and the fight stopped abruptly to look up at the roof.
Someone had hit one of the invisible beams at the roof of the building. The single streamer fell from the roof and began fluttering down, falling softly on the heads of the twins.
Then it screamed, "THE WEIRD SISTERS SUCK!" and fell silent again.
Somehow, this created an incredible debate. This debate, unlike most, was fought with food, and the students began getting up and switching around, taking sides. The tables became walls; the teachers watched on helplessly as the two crowds pulled two of the tables up and began using them as giant shields to defend against the food flying between them. Small, lithe students began rushing out to grab more food and pile it behind the walls, building up reserves, and the food fight evolved into something bigger. Each person's house was somehow entirely ignored.
By this time Draco had raced out of the room and went to search out Ari. This was out of their control.
It was about then that the owls began to fly in, as usual. Unlike usual, the moment they passed the mail wards on the room, their letters flashed an angry red and began screaming. This startled the poor owls enough that they dropped their letters as they flew by, nursing smouldering tail feathers as they shot their humans dirty looks, ignorant to the fact that the letters they were delivering were being turned into Howlers.
Hundreds of voices filled the room, drowning out any remaining noise. The students were too focused on the game to actually listen, but some students blushed when motherly 'I love you's or scolding 'we're talking about this's rang through the room. The great hall had devolved into absolute chaos.
An owl knocked over one of the screaming streamers. People stopped bothering to talk. It was interesting to note, however, that the streamers were a bit more colourful than your average screaming streamers; they flashed the house colours and kept wrapping themselves around students, sticking to people and things. Students started throwing the streamers, too.
Draco fought the laughter, a hand over his mouth and his cheeks blown up comically as he stared at a rather disgruntled Ari.
"Get me down from here." Ari seemed rather put out. "I take back everything nice I've ever said, Draco devil. You'd better get me down from here."
Draco couldn't help it. He burst into gales of tear-inducing laughter. Behind him, Carla pondered over helping him, the twins watched him in mute interest, and Callum had died laughing ages ago.
Why were they laughing? Well, it was hard not to, when the initiator of the whole prank had missed it, instead struggling to escape the no-gravity zone he'd created when he activated the potions. He was flailing helplessly in the air, his robe floating next to him peacefully, and a shoe hovering in the air where his foot had slipped out of it. He looked ridiculous compared to how the usually immaculate Durst looked.
Finally, Carla caved in and leaped into the no-gravity zone with a running jump, pushing Ari towards the other side of the affected area. They landed together, and Ari snatched his robe and shoe, putting them back on hurriedly.
"Thank you, Carla. I'll spare you my wrath. The rest of you are in for a painful time," he informed them. "Have fun getting across this." Pulling out his wand, he quickly recited some spells, and stormed off to the potions classroom not two doors away. Carla glanced back, then followed him, stopping with him at the door to watch the results.
Reluctantly, the rest of the group leaped in, but once they hit the halfway point they hit a wall.
"No!" Draco gasped, feeling his face frantically. "Am I bleeding?"
"No, you wuss, you're not," Callum replied, nudging his shoulder and pushing him back the way they came. "We'll prank you back for this, Durst. Just wait." And with that, he launched off the invisible wall and raced off with Draco to take the long way around. The twins glanced at each other and joined them, waving as they bounced away and touched down elegantly, once more under usual gravity.
Carla and Harry waited.
It was a few minutes before the first food-smothered, colourfully headed students began trickling in. Mostly it was redheads, disgruntled Slytherins silently bemoaning their fate, but there were also green-haired Gryffindors eying up the Slytherins suspiciously. There were some people out there who still believed that the Slytherins had done it. Nobody was going to fess up, obviously, but the tension was still there, despite the two groups looking particularly ridiculous, their cloaks covered in food and streamers and their hair in vibrant colours.
When the students started slowing down, floating, and straight-up running into the no-gravity hall only to find themselves being thrown into the air, the tension increased, as the only unaffected Slytherin watched them, holding back laughter.
This amused some people, annoyed others, and some of the smarter ones began pushing people forward with their legs, trying to get people to float to the door. Ari smirked in amusement, thankful his embarrassing episode hadn't been witnessed by anyone else, and furthermore that it could no longer be used against him - it had happened to everybody who could possibly spread rumours about him. Still smiling, he walked into the potions classroom, giving Professor Snape no indication that anything had happened that morning, regardless of the fact that he had been in the great hall for the first twenty minutes of the prank. Reaching his desk and setting up his cauldron, Professor Snape walked up to him and began asking questions.
It surprised Harry that once he no longer looked like his dad, Snape was unusually kind and attentive. Harry had a new love for potions, and now that he didn't have the professor's hatred, he had Snape's adoration. He still couldn't forgive Snape for two years of torture, and he would always be watching his back, but he was glad to absorb the potions knowledge Snape spouted constantly when he was around. Ari Durst had become his go-to student, even if - just as a joke - Ari kept insisting it was because he was terrible at potions.
"Why is everyone late?" He asked, eying Carla and her bright red hair suspiciously. "Other than this foul prank."
"I believe the hall right before the door has a no-gravity field, Professor," Harry reported, holding back the desire to giggle. "I got here first, of course, but I believe the other students are still trying to get past it."
Right as he said that, students began to trickle in. A Slytherin here, a Gryffindor there; the usual groups had been separated, friends helping other friends across with extra pushes to give them the momentum to get past the field. In the colour confusion, people sat randomly, and by the time the whole class was in, it was a checkerboard of red and green. The only black-haired one in the room snickered as Draco walked dejectedly into the seat next to Harry, glaring at his red hair.
"I hate this," Draco hissed, growling unhappily at his hair. "My beautiful hair, in this ghastly colour. And I swear my face is going to bruise." He rubbed his nose pointedly, searching through his bag for what Harry swore must be women's skin products.
"Oh, poor you, Malfoy," Ron hissed. "What next, someone chipped your nail?" Harry couldn't help it; he bit his tongue hard, trying not to laugh, especially as he heard chuckles running through the Gryffindors. It didn't help that Draco frequently complained about chipped nails.
"You just can't enjoy beauty, can you, Weasel?" Draco shot back, easing back into his chair and assuming an expression of nonchalance. "Not like you have any to enjoy. I swear you're trying to create ugliness."
Harry calmed himself and kicked Draco in the shin. Draco glared at him, offended, but stopped, though from his raised eyebrow Harry had something new to answer for.
Ron sputtered helplessly, but Harry decided to jump in before Ron resorted to petty name-calling and made life terrible. Quickly, he jotted down a note and watched for when Snape's back was turned, writing on the board. Folding up his note and adding a licorice wand for good measure, he launched the message over to land directly in Ron's lap. He kept his eyes carefully on Draco, though he was really looking just past him to where Ron was opening his letter in curiosity, a suspiciously eager Hermione peering over his shoulder.
Harry noted indifferently that Hermione seemed somewhat cheerful about the hair debacle. She'd always hated her appearance, despite the fact that Harry couldn't see anything wrong with her at all; she always seemed convinced she was ugly as a technicolour beaver. He smiled secretly as Ron read the note, glancing at Harry just briefly. Deciding to play a little, he winked deliberately and turned back to his potion.
"I've got somewhere to be," Harry explained apologetically. "If it makes you feel better, I'll join in on the pranks tomorrow."
Draco huffed. "That was part of the plan anyway. You were going to cover for us while we… y'know." He was still sulking, even if the red hair was barely visible any more. He already knew what was going to happen tomorrow, when the next dose was administered. Draco was already planning on fasting for the rest of Project Basilisk.
Rolling his eyes, Harry offered, "I'll give you one of those goblin books early. I just got some of them in today."
Draco perked up at that. Slowly, he decided, "I suppose you can be forgiven. You did look pretty ridiculous getting past the no-gravity hall." The place had already become infamous throughout the school. The paintings in that hall were getting more attention than they ever had.
Groaning, Harry grabbed his cloak. "Yeah, yeah, so did you, Draco dear. I'm off."
"Come back soon, Ari angel," Draco said theatrically, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. A few Slytherins chuckled as Harry swept away apathetically towards Ravenclaw tower. He had business to attend to…
Ron sat in the Ravenclaw tower, nervously swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on a chair left there. Staring out the window, he wondered what Durst could possibly want from a Gryffindor, especially him. Maybe to ask about Harry.
Harry.
He really missed his friend. He didn't totally believe the explanations Dumbledore gave them any more. Wasn't Hogwarts the safest place on earth for him? How could anywhere else be safer? Even Hermione agreed with him, and that never happened; the papers had all reported him missing, and for once they decided to believe the papers over Dumbledore's assurances.
He was still a little concerned at how Hermione had been tentatively accepted into Durst's group of growing friends. Sure, he was a powerful ally to have, but… she could just as easily be a stepping stone for him.
Now that he had a bit of perspective and time to think, Harry's situation seemed...strange. Why was Harry so small? Why did he have hectic eating patterns? Even Hermione didn't notice the last one, but as someone who'd always been well-fed, Harry's behaviour was weird. He'd promised himself he'd protect his friend from anything, but it seemed Harry wasn't even there to be protected...
The door opened, and Durst marched into the room primly. Ron adjusted his seat and attempted a casual politeness as he watched Durst close the door behind him.
"Thanks for coming, wasn't sure you'd trust a Slytherin," he admitted, and immediately Ron's heart was won. He could tell by the way little gold sparks flew around him that his words were true. The usual spark of magic - he could see a powerful glow around Ari smothering his body when he peered at him close enough - and a trickle of thin reddish-orange flashed over his skin. Huh. He hadn't heard anything about Ari being an active metamorphmagi. Was it possible nobody knew?
Regardless, the most important thing was that Ron could see the bindings of fate around him. It spoke of heroes; glory; friendship. Why hadn't he bothered to look at Durst magically before? He wasn't sure, but he was sure as heck glad he'd looked now.
Strangely, there was no corruption on him from the likes of the other Slytherins, like he'd seen on almost an eighth of the older students. It was mostly Slytherins who carried it; a black ghost trailed them, hovering over them menacingly. Draco had one, for example, although it had been quieter lately.
"What didja want?" Ron asked amicably. Ari blinked incredulously then shrugged.
"Wanted you to hear me out about a few things. Mostly Harry and Draco." Hopping up onto a seat next to Ron, he said, "take your pick of where I start."
"Draco," Ron decided. He wasn't totally ready to talk about Harry. "What about the git?"
"He hasn't been such a git this year," Ari defended immediately. Ron couldn't deny that. He'd been practically tame, following Durst around like a lost puppy. "Ugh. Right. I wanted to tell you a bit about… how kids of Death Eaters are treated."
Ron paid rapt attention. This was one of those things his Mum had said to look out for; Death Eaters whose kids didn't want to fight.
"You see," Ari explained quickly, "Death Eaters expect their kids to take the Dark Mark at fifteen. They have to impress their parents and the dark lord… he's always watching them." Ron gulped. "Some people actually believe it. And most of the kids are partially loyal to the dark lord from birth… the magic transfers partially to children."
Ron paused to think about that. Was Draco's ghost the presence of the dark mark's magic? That would be… that would be terrible. If he'd been born into that…
"Anyways," Ari hurried on, "Draco and I have been trying to find a way to counter it. He gets discouraged really easily… I just wanted you to reconsider insulting him. He's really nervous. He just wants to protect his family."
"But they're death eaters." Ron protested.
Ari studied him carefully, dull green eyes flashing as he looked Ron over. "You're lucky," he murmured. "You've got a family, you've got trustworthy friends. Draco's never had that, not until Blaise and I. He was on his own. All he had was his Mum and his Dad. Why would he sacrifice that? Why would he give up his life based on one little test of morality?"
"I never thought of it like that," Ron murmured. Now he just felt guilty. "So you want me to stop jabbing Draco's overblown ego so he's happy enough to read books?"
Ari smirked. "Sure. That's one way to put it, even if the ego is an act. Want to hear about Harry now?"
Ron nodded eagerly. He leaned forward to watch Ari's expressions carefully.
"I'm… I'll admit, we're distant family." he shrugged. "Hermione probably told you that. I'm heir to Potter after him. I have a bit of authority over him because of that - access to his vaults, stuff like that."
"Why didn't you contact 'im then?" Ron growled. "Harry always wanted family!"
"Hey, I only found out last year, and I only managed to move to Britain this year! By the time I got here, he'd already fled!" Ari protested. "I've been managing his accounts for him - they were a real mess - and I've been dealing with any threats to his safety. That's why I left for Gringotts last weekend instead of Hogsmeade." Ron nodded slowly, tentatively placated.
Ari shrugged. "I've got some mundane detectives looking out for him, as well as a few magical ones. Dumbledore's got a tracker on him, so he's obviously okay if Dumbledore isn't breaking down the doors to the Department of Mysteries. Oh, that reminds me, don't trust Dumbledore."
Ron frowned. "Why? He's an amazing wizard!"
"He's wanted under goblin law!" Ari hissed. "Blind sheep! Don't you see? Isn't there something terribly wrong with the guy who leaves a one-year-old on a cold doorstep in October? Isn't there something wrong with the guy who tracks Harry as if he were the crown jewels, and yet leaves him to get beaten and battered by everything from Basilisks to mirrors? I'm not leaving Harry in the care of that mad thief!" Taking a deep breath, Ari continued, "I have people collecting dirt on him. Trust me, he's not someone you want to trust."
Ron considered that. "I'll think about it," he decided. "I need to make sure of something." If he asked Dumbledore about Harry, he could verify Durst's claims of his trustworthiness. "I need proof. Something Dumbledore will lie about that you tell me the truth about."
Ari nodded understandingly. "Sure. I'll figure something out." He paused. "What's Dumbledore told you?"
Ron eyed Ari up a bit. He focused once more on the magic around him. If Dumbledore was telling the truth to him, he'd have to tell Ari…
"You could ask Dumbledore-"
"No," Ari protested frantically. "I can't. If he saw me…" Ari took a deep, calming breath. "Ugh. Right. Total honesty it is. I'm a metamorphmagi."
Ron shrugged. "Yeah, I know. So what?"
Ari blinked at him. Once. Twice. "Oh. How many people know?"
"All the Weasleys. Luna Lovegood in second year, she's a powerful seer, so of course she can see idle magic… probably a few muggleborns who can't make sense of it, and I know none of the other purebloods know. You know how purebloods treat seers." Ron suddenly looked defensive. "You won't tell anyone about… me being able to see magic, will you?"
"Nah, sounds pretty awesome," Ari admitted. "I was raised as a muggle, so I have no idea how purebloods treat seers, but let me assume that it isn't kindly." He adjusted his seat next to Ron. "Anyways. Dumbledore has sensors in his office which would change my appearance to default the moment I walked in there. I can't do that." Shrugging, he continued, "I'll do what I can, but I don't want to jeopardize my position. It took me months to get into Hogwarts."
Ron amped up his sigh and began asking questions. "How old are you really?"
"Thirteen." A few golden sparks appeared in front of Ari in Ron's vision.
"Huh. What's your name?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.
Ari gulped. "... Phoenix." Gold, petering off into white. He wasn't giving Ron the full truth. "I can't say my last name safely." Gold again.
"Are you telling the truth about Draco Malfoy?" Ron didn't bother to hide his intentions. It would be Ari's reaction to his intentions that would seal how much he trusted him.
"Yes." Gold. Ron nodded, appeased.
Ron hit him with the big one now. "Where's Harry?"
"What? I don't know-" Black. Ron grabbed Ari's wrist before he could move.
"Where is he?" Ron growled. "Don't hide him from me. If you're hurting him-"
"He's fine," Ari soothed. Gold again. "I'm sorry I lied… what was I supposed to do? Now you'll want to see him." Also gold. He really was apologetic. Ron grumbled a bit, but retreated, eying the door in case Ari decided to turn tail like the Slytherin he was.
"I don't see why I shouldn't see him," Ron argued. "He's been fine before. We've been able to mail him over summer before. What's wrong with seeing him now?"
"Well," Ari hedged nervously. "I… need time. I want to keep his location secret. Not everyone is who they say they are." Gold. "I don't want him to get hurt just because someone wanted to say hi." Also gold.
Ron considered. "Prove to me he's alright, and I'll let it go and do what you asked." He glared at Ari. "Otherwise… watch out."
Ari nodded calmly. "Sure. I'll do what I can, Ronald." Internally, he groaned.
"It's Ron, just Ron," he explained pointedly as Ari walked to the door. Ari paused, smiled, and left silently, leaving Ron to consider the new facts presented to him.
Remus rubbed his headache as he headed for the teacher meeting, thinking about the prank that morning. If he'd been honest about it, he actually enjoyed the prank a lot - he was quietly hoping he could identify the pranksters and push them in the right direction.
Walking into the room set aside for these sorts of meetings, he nodded politely to his co-workers and slid into his seat, sighing gently as he waited for chatter to die down and Dumbledore to enter and begin the discussion for today.
Right on cue, the elderly wizard walked in, loud purple robes trailing behind him and eyes twinkling away. Pulling himself up a little, he listened as Dumbledore began his speech.
"I'm afraid I bring bad news," he mused unhappily, lowering himself slowly into a seat at the head of the table, capturing the attention of the professors easily. "I have been unable to locate Harry Potter. We must simply give up for now and trust that my trackers continue to prove his safety."
"Finally, we are past this," Snape huffed. "I told you we wouldn't find him if he didn't want to be found. Probably thinks this is hilarious."
"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore soothed, "I doubt Harry would be so foolish as to hide from us. No, I expect he is a bit lost, but I am certain he is safe."
"'A bit lost'," Minerva repeated sharply. "Albus, I know you don't want to see it, but the child has outsmarted us at every turn! He isn't to be found anywhere!"
Remus nodded mutely along, eying Dumbledore as he reacted with practiced humility. He could smell the dishonesty rising from him, and his inner wolf growled loudly about the old man. Moony had never trusted Dumbledore, not even when Remus had reason to trust him, when he was simply a boy, a lucky werewolf who happened to attend Hogwarts.
Years had worn by slowly. Remus had lived a slow, boring life, jumping from muggle job to muggle job, frequently reminiscing about living in the magical world. The opportunity to teach was one he had jumped at eagerly, but his joy was muted quickly when it was discovered that Harry had disappeared altogether. Without even James's son to brighten his life, he was quickly becoming disillusioned with everything. He quickly returned his thoughts to Dumbledore to direct his feelings away from depression.
Dumbledore had lost his trust a long time ago, though exactly when he couldn't say. He just knew now that there was something broken about Dumbledore, something cruel and twisted. He couldn't put his finger on what, but he'd find out eventually.
Clearing her throat, Sprout voiced, "I know we've got important things to think about, but shouldn't we discuss the matter of the Red Snake letters?"
Ah, yes, the Red Snake letters. A student had anonymously warned them to check students who bore a red snake upon their bodies. A few students had been noticed as having them, students of all houses, but it had been sidelined in order to take care of more important things, like finding Harry and organizing Hogsmeade weekends.
"I do not believe it is a matter we should worry over," Dumbledore vetoed. The smell of bad intentions was practically attacking Remus; he couldn't let this slide.
"Headmaster," Remus spoke up. "You don't mind if I just check these students quickly for anything dangerous, do you? Just some small spells to make sure."
Dumbledore sighed. "Remus, my boy, there's no need to worry. We're perfectly safe here."
"All the more reason I should check," Remus replied smartly. "If there's no need to worry, then why worry about checking student loyalties? What difference does it make to you that I do not check?"
Dumbledore looked ready to push down Remus's complains in his own smothering, grandfatherly way, but Minerva added, "I wish to do the same, Albus. We need a clear conscience if we are to focus fully on our work."
"Hear, hear!" Professor Flitwick agreed, his eyes shining with mirth. There was something that struck him about the shortest professor; either it was his heritage or the fact that Flitwick seemed to know more than anyone else.
"I would like this ridiculous business cleared out of the way, as well," Snape grudgingly admitted.
With the agreement of all the house heads, Dumbledore couldn't just pat them on the head and send them away. "Alright," he allowed remorsefully. "If only to get you all to relax."
That night, Harry walked into the room of requirement, thinking specifically of Sirius. As he'd hoped, he found Sirius lazing on a couch, but the moment he entered Sirius shot to his feet eagerly.
"Ari," he breathed, awkward and off-tilt. Looking closer, Harry could see an awareness shining in his eyes that had been absent before, a bit of consciousness that stopped him from looking, to put it bluntly, like a drunk.
Sirius was both everything he'd hoped for and more a child than he was. It was a bit distressing, but he figured that Sirius would be more of a friend than a guardian, even if he decided to take up that title at all. It was soothing, in a way, to be in control for once, to be on equal ground with the person who could one day make decisions for him, about him, and actually care what he wanted.
"Good evening," he greeted politely, easing into one of the cushioned chairs in the faux common room. "How have you been since I left?"
Sirius laid himself down fully along the couch, throwing his arms behind his head. "Sort of confused," he admitted. "The prank in the great hall was awesome. I want to find the kid who masterminded that."
"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"So I can talk to him about pranks," Sirius stated simply. "It was cool. James'd never do big-scale stuff like that - said we had to go subtle."
Harry nodded. "Makes sense. I just told Draco to go big as he could; the whole thing's a distraction."
Sirius shot up. "You know him? Can I meet him?"
Harry snorted, chuckled, and finally burst, laughing his lungs out. Wiping away a tear, he said, "This is Draco's first prank!"
Sirius gaped. "No way!"
"Yes way!" Harry took a few calming breaths, wiping away a stray tear. "This is hilarious. I can't wait to clear you; when he meets you he's going to flip!"
Sirius nodded eagerly along. "You're clearing me?"
"I've got a plan A and a plan B," Harry explained, finally regaining a straight face. "Plan A is the fun plan, which involves me walking into the great hall and straight-up asking for Peter Pettigrew. In the event that doesn't work, I'm going to sneak into the Gryffindor common room and ratnap him." He shrugged. "Not too hard - Ron's not very observant."
Sirius nodded. "Sounds fun," he admitted. "Can I join you?"
"Not until you're cleared," Harry replied solemnly. "I don't want to risk losing you to the codswallop legal system we're dealing with. I hate it, but we've got to play by their rules for now, and the rules state that if you're found, you'll be kissed on sight."
Sirius shuddered. "I hate dementors."
"Me too," Harry agreed.
Draco rubbed his smarting eyes, glancing at the Wakefulness potion on his dresser in concern. He'd already drunk half the bottle. Could he really risk drinking more without any side-effects in the morning?
No, he'd just stay awake. Firmly telling himself that the book in his hands simply had to have the miracle cure for the Dark Mark, he flipped the page.
Blank.
His remaining energy seemed to be drawn out of him, like someone had stabbed him in the gut and began draining him of everything he had. He'd never find a cure. It was all pointless.
His frustration expressed itself the moment he'd placed the priceless goblin text on the floor. Throwing his face into his pillows, he hissed in confusion, unhappiness, and general hopelessness. There was nothing left for him to do.
No, no, he had to stop thinking… stop thinking… just nothing. He had to think of nothing. He flipped over and listened to the sound of his breathing, letting his eyes fall shut.
Flashes before his eyes; his father cowering in front of Voldemort. His mother flung to the ground, forgotten. Him, signing himself away to the monster in his mind, the monster tearing apart his mental family like one would unwrap a Christmas present, his own life being the prize.
He threw himself upwards, the violent movement and lurch in his stomach distracting him from his wakeful nightmares. The grumble in his chest warned him that he had indeed taken too many wakefulness potions, and groaning, he left his bed silently, creeping away from his pointless friends, Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise.
Crabbe and Goyle were creepy and followed him around like little clay soldiers, which honestly scared the living daylights out of him half the time. Blaise was nice, but he was mostly networking; Draco didn't really feel close to anyone at Hogwarts… except maybe Ari.
Ari confused him. Appearing from nowhere (or France, depending on your sources), he suddenly had an ally. Most had avoided Draco like the plague, while after the first chance meeting, Ari had stuck with him, easily worming his way into Draco's life and becoming his support system. Ari had offered him much-needed distractions; new books, new friends, pranks and plans...
Now, the books were gone.
Sighing deeply, he tip-toed into the common room and ran headfirst into Ari.
"Ari?" He hissed into the darkness, observing the shimmer of the invisibility cloak and the edges of Ari's dark, wavy hair. A vague groan emanated from the darkness, and Ari's top half came into view, one arm massaging his forehead.
"Draco?" Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and mumbled something halfheartedly in a feeble attempt to respond. "What are you doing awake? And why do you look like you want to throw up?"
Draco gulped, pushing down the burn in his throat. "Couldn't sleep."
Ari peered at him suspiciously. "You didn't overdose on wakefulness potions, did you?" Drat. Ari always seemed to know when he was ill.
Sighing, Ari grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him to his feet.
Using Ari's shoulder as support, Ari led him over to a couch and pushed him gently down, forcing him to sit. Too tired to oppose, he stayed where he was as Ari raced up to his room and returned with a bag filled with various potions - right, Ari had a bit of training in healer work, though why Draco couldn't fathom. Maybe he wanted to be a healer.
"Draco, drink this, it'll soothe your stomach," Ari told him softly. "You can pay me back later." It was always 'later' with Ari, Draco noted drowsily as he gulped down the disgusting potion. He never told other people 'later', always made sure he'd get what he'd earned. Why was it this way with him?
He still hadn't paid Ari back for the last time he'd gotten a favour. Or the time before. Or the time before…
"'M always owe…" Draco slurred, clearing his throat. "I still owe you for the last time this happened, Ari."
Ari waved it off. "Consider it nulled."
"You really are relaxed," Draco commented.
"Yeah," Ari admitted freely, leaning over the sofa leisurely and relaxing as they watched the fireplace crackle. Draco felt a quiet, gentle stab of jealousy; how nice it would be to be that relaxed, that happy.
Draco stared at the fire.
"You ran out of books, didn't you?"
Shit.
"No…"
Ari sighed, sending a hand through his messy mop of hair. "Draco."
"Yes," Draco hissed unhappily. "Fine. I ran out of books. I'm doomed. Happy?"
"No," Ari replied easily, sliding into the seat beside him. "I didn't realize how easily you gave up. Look - keep calm. You're not going to die. There are plenty of books out there, more than just the ones within Hogwarts walls."
"Hogwarts is the best publicly available library there is," Draco retorted. "Did your parents teach you nothing?"
"Yep." Ari shrugged, as if he hadn't just thrown off Draco's entire argument. "Something I should know about libraries?"
Draco growled, "Yes! Only the darkest of family libraries could dare to boast having books Hogwarts doesn't!"
This seemed to strike Ari down a bit. "Dark?" he repeated slowly. "How dark, exactly, are we talking?"
"Dark as the Blacks!" He hissed. "And nobody is darker than the Blacks."
Ari nodded mutely. "Dark as the Blacks." he got up slowly, reaching out and lifting Draco up with him. "I get it. Don't worry. We'll figure it out."
Draco felt disconnected, as usual. Ari sometimes seemed to get this distant look, like he was thinking of somewhere where the grass was greener. His chest sank like a rock as he considered the idea that Ari felt as hopeless as he did.
A/N: Whew! Longer than usual! This is one of those chapters where I had to check it over multiple times... I'm glad it's over. I hope you enjoyed. Review, follow, etc etc. More pranks, more twins and more Ron Weasley on the way.
Until next time!
-MDH