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Stars
Chapter 18: The Twins
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Summary: What if Harry wasn't taken in by Petunia? What if, instead, he was taken in by another wizard who moved into number four after Petunia forced her family to move to avoid taking in the freak? Neutral!Harry
Beta: Cauchy! Big thanks to her for being my beta! This means less confusing words and spelling errors and brains flying around.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own character. Including the several lines I did take from the book.
A/N: Thanks for all the support! I will continue to write as much as I can so please read and review!
I need your opinion guys! Should I split this into two stories? Since it will be quite long otherwise!
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Cygnus did not expect to see Hedwig when he arrived home from Malfoy Manor. He frowned a little as he looked at the owl.
"Did Harry send you?" Cygnus asked, The owl hooted and bent down, pushing a roll of parchment towards Cygnus. Cygnus picked it up and unraveled it, just as Dobby popped into the kitchen.
"Master Harry sent Master Cygnus a letter!" Dobby squeaked. "He asked me to deliver it, sir. Master Harry's owl came to pick up a reply."
"Really?" Cygnus asked, distracted. "Thank you, Dobby."
Dobby grinned and vanished to clean some more as Cygnus read through the letter. Cygnus' face slowly grew more and more serious and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Then, he sighed deeply and set the letter down, a troubled look on his face.
Cygnus knew exactly what Harry was talking about. He wasn't surprised that Harry couldn't remember himself, but he was a little startled to learn that the memory was Harry's worst memory rather than the memories of Ginny Weasley's death.
He would have to speak to Albus regarding the safety of Harry in light of those creatures swarming on the school grounds.
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Harry was so distracted in class that he didn't even notice that he had not faced the boggart.
It wasn't as if this bothered him though. If it was true that boggarts turned into their worst fear, then Harry was glad that he didn't face the creature. He had no intention of experiencing the dark, chilling presence of a dementor. He was sure that the rest of the class would agree with him on that.
As Harry expected, Cygnus did not divulge the information over owl post. Instead, his reply was short and brisk:
I will tell you everything when you come home for the holidays.
The answer wasn't unexpected, but it did irk Harry just a little. Harry felt as if it concerned him in many ways, so Cygnus should have told him, privacy be damned.
And at the same time, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. All of his life, he believed that Cygnus was a good person. But now… Now he wasn't sure if that rang true anymore.
Hedwig hooted softly at him, looking a little worried on her owner's behalf. Harry looked up from the parchment and smiled, petting her. She had delivered the letter rather than Dobby, as the letter held no words of great importance. It was early afternoon, and she had found him relaxing in the sun with Draco.
"Your dad does like to do that, huh?" Draco asked, reading the parchment over his shoulder. "Cryptic and vague… Will he really tell you when you get home?"
"He's never failed to," Harry replied, looking at Draco. "Cygnus has never turned away from telling me anything he's felt that I needed to know. Perhaps this was one of those things that he felt that I didn't need to know, which is probably why he didn't tell me."
Or… at least he thought that were the case.
Draco looked contemplative and then spoke again.
"Do you ever think that it might be because it would put him in bad light?" Draco asked, frowning a little. "I mean, if he did kill someone, then he wouldn't exactly want you to know about it, would he?"
"Perhaps a lesser man would be that way," Harry said confidently. "But Cygnus isn't like that. What is the truth, is the truth. Cygnus doesn't butter it up or cover it up. He simply omits information."
"I see…" Draco said slowly.
Harry wondered if Draco really understood.
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Harry did not expect any Weasley to talk to him, so it came as a surprise the second week of October when Fred and George Weasley cornered him right in the middle of a hallway on the second floor.
"So, young Harry," a redheaded twin said, flinging his arm around Harry's shoulder.
"We couldn't help noticing…" The other twin said, draping his arm around Harry's other shoulder.
"You have a friend!" They both added together.
Harry raised an eyebrow at them, confused. "Err… What now?" He wracked his brain for some kind of answer, but drew up a blank. Nott and Draco were still talking to him, though Draco remained his best mate. He hadn't really approached anyone else since the beginning of the year.
Evidently, the twins were thinking of something, because they shared a grin. Harry eyed their red hair and their freckles, trying to figure out what the two were up to. They were famous around school causing mischief.
A cold chill traveled down his back. Perhaps they were still angry about their sister? Perhaps this was for revenge? But before Harry could pull out his wand, the twins had pulled out something. Harry instantly activated the wards on his bag, expecting to be at the end of wands, but was startled to see an old piece of parchment.
"This is our gift to you!" They declared, excitedly. Harry's brow furrowed, but then dropped the wards. What was he going to do with an old piece of parchment? Was this a… prank?
Seeing the baffled look on Harry's face, Fred and George pulled out their wands and pointed at the map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," they declared as a pair.
Harry snorted at the password, slightly amused. When were the twins ever up to any good? But his amusement turned into shock as curvy lines started appearing on the parchment, fanning into every corner, forming curly script in green ink.
Messrs Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
Are proud to present
The Marauders Map
Harry's jaw dropped in shock, his eyes wide as he stared at the parchment. It was a map detailing Hogwarts with ink dots revealing the presence of people. According to the map, Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study. A dot in the trophy room proclaimed that Peeves was bouncing around inside. Fred and George grinned and pointed down, towards the Slytherin common room. Harry's eyes traced the parchment and his stomach dropped, a cold shiver running through his body.
Sirius Black was written in miniscule writing, apparently relaxing in the common room. Harry felt his stomach churn and looked up at the twins.
"Are you… does this map…" Harry said slowly, but trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"It's accurate," Fred pointed out, gesturing to the second floor, where Harry could see his own little dot in the second floor hallway. "Though there's this boy in Gryffindor named Peter Pettigrew that we can't seem to find." He pointed to the Gryffindor dorms and grinned a little. "We've checked loads of times, but no one was ever there."
And Harry saw the little dot labeled Peter Pettigrew in the Gryffindor dorms. Harry hesitated and said, "Could it be a malfunction then? Is it possible that the name is wrong or… something?"
"Doubt it," George said, shaking his head. "That was the only malfunction we've seen."
"But I suppose it's possible," Fred said, "But it wouldn't hurt to check."
"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked suddenly. "Why are you helping a… a Slytherin? I thought Gryffindors didn't like Slytherins."
Fred and George paused, then shared a look.
"The thing is, Harry," Fred said.
"We don't hate you," continued George.
"Even though Ginny died…"
"You were the first person to try and do something about it."
"I mean, if you weren't there…"
"Then Ginny might never have been found."
Harry gaped at them in shock. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of blood rushing out of his face at the name and recalled that they didn't know that Harry had killed Ginny Weasley.
But they had already stood up, stuffing the parchment into Harry's limp hands. "Mind you, Harry," Fred said, "We're giving this to you."
"Your needs are greater than ours," George said, smiling at him. "We heard about Black and everything. So you'll need this to keep a sharp eye out."
"Don't forget to wipe it after you're done," Fred said, "Or anyone can read it."
"Just tap the parchment and say, 'Mischief Managed' and it'll go blank," George said.
They smiled at each other, then at Harry's dumbfounded face before striding off down the hall. Harry's hands shook on the parchment.
Out of all the things that Harry had imagined his next encounter with a Weasley had been, this didn't even cross his mind. They had talked to him… given him a gift, out of all things, and then just left without even interrogating him on what had happened in the Chamber. Was it because they honestly didn't care? Or was it because they honestly saw him as a hero?
If he told the truth, would that ruin the hero impression he had unknowingly developed? Dumbledore would surely prefer his hero impression rather than the murderer one. If he were to get close to Dumbledore, then maintaining the hero persona was vital.
Dumbledore, as far as Harry knew, believed Harry to be an innocent. And Harry wasn't about to plant the idea that what happened in the Chamber hadn't been a tragic accident.
He pulled out his wand and tapped the parchment with a soft, "Mischief managed." The green curls and the map vanished, leaving an old piece of parchment empty. He folded the sheet and tucked it into his book bag, making his way down the stairs.
Cygnus had signed his Hogsmeade sheet when he had delivered the owl to Dumbledore in the summer so Harry was allowed to go to Hogsmeade. But he needed to take care of the issue that was Sirius Black first in the Slytherin Common Room. He hoped he wasn't too late.
He spoke the password and entered, pausing as he noticed the common room was devoid of people. Harry's brow furrowed and he pulled out the parchment again, tapping it.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he declared.
The map revealed itself. The dot labeled Sirius Black had not moved from the Slytherin Common Room, now with Harry Potter-Rowan next to it. Harry looked around, trying to spot the man with shaggy black hair and a wild appearance.
Grim looked up by the fireplace, woken by Harry's entrance into the Common Room. Then he closed his eyes again and lowered his head onto his paws, falling asleep in the heat of the fire. Harry passed by him and scratched his head, wondering if Fred was right in saying it was a possible malfunction.
He wiped the map and tucked it away, walking over to the fireplace and petting Grim. Grim gave a satisfied thump of his tail as he napped, breathing deeply. Then Harry stood up and headed out the Slytherin Common Room to head off to Hogsmeade.
Harry was almost at the gates when Professor Lupin stopped him.
"Harry… I was wondering if I could have a word," Lupin said slowly.
Harry considered it and then nodded. Lupin smiled and beckoned him to follow, leading Harry up to the third floor and into Lupin's office.
As soon as Harry walked in the office, he spotted a strange, sickly green creature in a tank of water, its long, spindly fingers pressed against the glass. It leered at him, flexing its fingers.
"A grindylow," Lupin said, noticing Harry's stare. "I was planning on covering it next class." He paused to make tea and looked at Harry, "Tea?"
Harry shrugged, considering the tea. He was planning on meeting Draco in Hogsmeade, but if Lupin wanted to talk, he would talk with him. Perhaps he wanted to discuss Harry's grade in the class or talk about how Lupin didn't let him fight the boggart. Neither would surprise him, but Harry secretly hoped it was the latter, as he thought he had been doing decent in the writing portion of the class.
Lupin poured him a cup, gestured to the seat in front of the desk and said, "I was told that you have trouble with your wand."
Harry relaxed just a little, taking a seat and the cup. "I used to, yeah," he admitted.
"Then I'm willing to help you," Lupin said. "You might have been wondering why I didn't let you face the boggart. Have you?"
He looked up, but Harry looked away. Harry stared at his tea, a little uncomfortable with the question.
"I didn't want you to be facing your fear without your wand performing correctly," Lupin said quietly, assuming Harry was thinking of it. "After all, it would be terrible for you not to have a way out of your fear because you can't perform the spell."
Harry gave a wry smile. "In the face of a dementor, I doubt my wand would be the first thing on my mind." He sipped his tea, not willing to look at Lupin's face, slightly pale.
"Your worst fear is… a dementor?" Lupin asked, as if he couldn't believe his ears. "I would have assumed Lord Voldemort was your fear."
"Considering I saw him when I was a baby, I don't remember what he looks like," Harry answered, putting down his teacup. "I… thought about how cold and… dark it got when the dementors…"
"Very wise," Lupin said smiling. "That suggests that your greatest fear is… fear. Very wise of you, Harry."
Harry didn't really understand, but the knock on the door stopped his train of thought. He looked up as Snape entered, a smoking goblet in his hands.
"Po—Rowan," Snape corrected himself, his eyes softening a little. "I trust you are doing well."
"Quite well," Harry replied. The nightmares had subsided to once every week, so Harry was slowly getting more rest. Snape had spent nearly every night accompanying him, bringing him tea, and waiting to see if Harry would tell him his dreams. So far, Harry had not.
Snape nodded at him and placed the goblet on the table.
"You should drink that directly, Lupin," he said, his voice cold. Harry blinked at the sudden change in his tone, feeling uncomfortable. It was plain to see that Snape did not like Lupin at all, for some reason.
"I will," Lupin said, picking up the goblet and taking a sip.
"I've made a whole cauldron full… if you need more," Snape added, turning.
"I should probably take some more. Thank you, Severus," Lupin said cheerfully.
Snape sneered and swept out the door. Harry stared curiously at the goblet, wondering what it was and why Snape had brewed it for Lupin. Was Lupin sick? Or was it a simple potion for nightmares?
Lupin sipped the goblet and shuddered a little. "Disgusting. Well, Harry, you were headed off to Hogsmeade, weren't you?"
Harry nodded standing up. He walked towards the door, paused, and looked back at Lupin. Lupin was still drinking from the goblet, watching Harry as he left.
"Yes, Harry?" Lupin asked.
"On the train; you made the dementor go away," Harry replied, frowning a little. "What spell did you use and can you teach me?"
Blunt and to the point. Harry had learned that beating around the bush did nothing but delay the inevitable. Lupin was looking hesitant, as if reluctant to agree.
Since dementors did mostly emotional damage, the wards that his dad had put up didn't really have an effect against them. At most, it could probably prevent the dementor's kiss, but even that was not given. Dementors weren't human and, like Cygnus had missed warding their house at number four against house elves, it was possible that Cygnus had missed warding Harry's bag against dementors. Harry had already made up his mind to only use the wards in serious danger so knowing the magic to repel dementors would be vital.
"I don't pretend I am an expert on fighting dementors," Lupin said stiffly. "On the contrary…" He trailed off, looking reluctant.
"Since they affect me so much worse than my classmates, I really wanted to learn to repel them. I mean," Harry hesitated before adding, "Prevention is better than regret, right?" He looked up, his eyes a little haunted from the memories.
Lupin's eyes softened and he nodded slowly. "Alright… I will try. It will have to wait until after the holidays though. There is too much to do before."
After Harry left, shutting the door behind himself, Lupin sighed deeply. He ran a hand through his greying hair and slowly set down the goblet.
It wasn't as if Lupin didn't want to teach Harry. On the contrary, he did. Harry was so much like James with Lily's eyes it pulled at his heartstrings every time he met Harry's eyes.
Lupin looked into the murky depths of his goblet, a frown on his tired face. He didn't want to get too close to Harry for obvious reasons. There was the matter of Sirius Black, and then there was the matter of his own lycanthropy which proved dangerous to humans in general.
Lupin had never felt the handicap more than he did now. He wanted to be involved in Harry's life. He had wanted to be the one to raise Harry, watch him grow, get him gifts for his birthday, teach him magic.
But he had lost that opportunity a long time ago, even before he had known James. The werewolf bite had sealed his fate, made him a little more than worthless, mindless beast in the eyes of the Ministry. During that time, the end of the Second Wizarding War, with people spouting left and right about how they were imperiused, werewolves were convenient scapegoats. Adding to that, there were some people who had believed Lupin to be the Potter's Secret Keeper. Lupin was forced into hiding and had only come out with Dumbledore's protection.
Veritaserum was convenient, but fallible. Many of the trials dealt with Dark Wizards, which meant that they would naturally have thought about protection against the truth potion. Occlumency and oaths were just a couple defenses one could employ. But there were also potions that messed with the ability to tell the truth. Or someone could hex their own jaws shut to avoid telling the truth. Lupin was willing to bet there were many other options that he wasn't even aware of.
So he had spent years hidden away from people, terrified of them figuring out who and what he was and throwing him in Azkaban indiscriminately. He had cut off all contact with the Wizarding World, waiting for the heat of the war to cool down and for the Ministry to stop accusing people at random.
That had taken far longer than Lupin had thought.
So Lupin had been forced to take a back seat, watching and waiting, hoping in his heart that Harry's relatives would have welcomed him into their home. To hear that Harry's blood family had fled was like getting doused with icy water. Lupin's immediate thought was "Dear Merlin, was he forced on the streets?!"
But that hadn't been the case. When he had first saw Harry, he had only recognized him by the pictures in the papers. The boy looked nothing like James, nothing like Lily, except for her eyes. It wasn't until he watched him interact with Draco, had he seen James' loyalty and Lily's softness.
Lupin had been told that Harry had been raised by a Ward Master named Cygnus Rowan. Even though Lupin had been a top student, warding was not something he read about for fun. Wards were complex, specific creations that required magic to be poured into them for them to work. Very, very few witches or wizards aspired to be ward masters, simply because the death rate in the training process was so high. Many inexperienced wizards and witches that attempted warding without training died from the magical backlash from a broken ward.
To be considered a Ward Master, Rowan must have been proficient in creating and powering wards. Such a man was not to be trifled with, especially since wards that were powered by the one who wrote it were five to ten times more effective than if someone else powered it.
Harry was well protected. This fact comforted Lupin greatly. Rowan would not have sent his child anywhere without a homemade ward, especially one as famous as Harry.
Lupin smiled. He wanted to meet the Ward Master. The man sounded like a very reasonable individual. Perhaps, he would be agreeable for Lupin to visit Harry during the summer break with certain… restrictions.
Perhaps Rowan would not want him, a werewolf, near Harry. Lupin could understand that. But he owed it to Lily, James, and especially little Harry, to try.
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Cygnus sighed deeply, leaning his head back as he stretched out his shoulders and arms. He had been writing wards for well over an hour now, but the good news was that he was almost caught up with everything that had happened when he had been knocked out. He let out a breath and almost yelled as he felt someone touching his left arm.
Whipping around, ready to blast the person to bits, Cygnus paused, coming face to face with Snape. Snape raised an eyebrow at him and Cygnus felt himself flush a little in shame.
"You came without announcing your presence," Cygnus huffed as Snape's lips curled into an amused smile. "What do you want this time?"
Snape lowered himself into a chair in front of Cygnus and said, "No offer for tea? What a terrible host."
"Considering you just invaded my house, no," Cygnus said shortly, his face still flushed. "State your purpose."
"Can't someone visit an old friend without seeming like they want something?" Snape asked.
"Old friend?" Cygnus repeated. "We barely know each other."
"I'm here to change that. I want to know more about you," Snape said. Cygnus' dark eyes narrowed at him and suspicion flickered over the white haired man's face.
"No. You want to know more about my wards," Cygnus accused.
"Isn't that the same thing?" Snape asked, his tone smoothing out to be quite pleasant.
Cygnus gazed at Snape, his face an expressionless mask. Snape couldn't tell if Cygnus was pleased, flattered, or insulted. Finally, Cygnus broke the silence by snapping his fingers.
"Dobby," Cygnus said to the house elf when it appeared. "Please bring Mr. Snape here some tea."
"Right away Master," Dobby nodded, bowing low before disappearing.
"So, the comment was worth some tea?" Snape asked, amusement peaking in his voice again.
"Shut up and be happy that I'm willing to spare tea for you," Cygnus huffed.
Snape smiled and sipped the cup that Dobby brought. "I would like to propose something to you."
Cygnus looked up from his papers, carefully stashing them away. He didn't work with company over as a rule, as the secrets of warding were usually only kept in the household.
Snape was watching him with some degree of fascination. Cygnus sighed and said, "I'm listening."
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"Hey, Harry!"
Draco slung an arm around Harry's shoulder, startling him out of his potion's text. Harry gasped in shock, swatting at Draco's head lightly, scowling.
It was just after the Halloween feast. Harry, as expected, hadn't really been in the mood to celebrate, instead missing the first fifteen minutes to light the candles in his dorm for his parents. Grim had watched respectfully, as Harry explained to him what he had been doing. Then, Harry went down to the feast with Draco and the other boys before coming back to the Common Room to work on his Potion's essay.
"What?! Can't you see that I'm busy? We have that two foot long essay due by next class and I still need five inches," Harry huffed, scowling. His quill had dropped onto the parchment so he picked it back up, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"No time for that. I found out some news," Draco said, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "So, Black's been spotted in the castle!"
Harry felt his quill slide out of his limp fingers as he stared at Draco. His mind had short-circuited, and he felt an uncomfortable sensation wash over him. It was like someone had grabbed hold of his intestines and was twisting rather violently.
"That's not funny," Harry murmured.
"I never said it to be funny," Draco responded. "It's true. I heard he was trying to break into Gryffindor Tower."
Harry's brow furrowed and he looked around the Slytherin Common Room. Grim was curled up beside his chair and most of the lingering students were still doing homework or studying. It was quite late, after all. Nott was laying on the floor next to the fireplace, reading a book.
"Are you being serious?" Harry asked softly, his eyes narrowed.
"As serious as I can be," Draco responded. "He probably thought you'd be in Gryffindor like your parents, which is why he went there to go looking for you."
"Why would he choose this night to go looking?" Harry asked, frowning. Draco paused.
"What?"
"Today is Halloween. Assuming that most of the school would be at the feast, he chose a very poor time to try to attack me," Harry reasoned.
"Maybe he lost track of time?" Nott replied, looking up from his book. The fire crackled next to him, but his gaze didn't flatter. "He was on the run for a very long time."
"Even if he did," Harry said. "The entire school is decorated for Halloween. It's kind of hard to miss."
"No one had any idea how he got into the castle," Draco said. "We've been restricted to our Common Room and Dorms until they finish searching the castle. So far, no sign, I hear."
"Where did you get this from?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Professor Snape. He was speaking to the prefect and I overheard," Draco said casually.
"You mean, eavesdropped," Nott retorted.
"Maybe he apparated," Draco said cheerfully changing the subject. "Or flew in. Or disguised himself."
"I don't think the dementors would be fooled by such things," Harry sighed. "Dumbledore said so, remember? Besides, dementors feed off of emotion. Their effect passes right through my wards because it's not a physical or magical blow. It's an emotional one. Kind of like someone calling you names and stuff."
"Would your wards prevent a dementor's kiss?" Draco asked, leaning forwards.
"Possibly? I'm not going to try though," Harry said, frowning. "So, what are they doing about Black?"
"Searching the castle. My guess is, he'll just go out the way he came in," Draco said, looking a little disappointed. "So, first a troll, then the Chamber business, now Black's after you. You have terrible luck with this holiday, don't you?"
"Voldemort started it," Harry said, turning back to his essay. He ignored the startled squeak that Draco and Nott shared. "He killed my parents on Halloween too."
"What makes you think Black was after Harry?" Nott asked, frowning.
Draco raised his eyebrows at Nott and began explaining the story of Sirius Black to Nott. Harry had stopped writing to listen, having given up on his essay once and for all. He could finish it during lunch, right before class.
"So, Sirius Black betrayed my parents," Harry said slowly. "Which is how Voldemort found them and killed them. But why would Voldemort attack in the first place?"
"Potters were quite heavy light supporters," Draco said.
"But, James Potter was a pureblood," Harry said, looking at Draco.
"And a blood-traitor," Draco responded. "The Dark Lord has no mercy for those."
"But… surely he would have minions to do his bidding. Why go personally?" Harry asked, staring at Draco. "I mean, if Black was actually a spy, why not have Black kill them? Not only does he have access, but he has the trust of everyone in the Potter's household."
Draco opened his mouth, then closed it, finding nothing to say. He had no answer to that.
"And what about Black? Why would he escape now, when there are a lot of supporters who are out of prison and want his head? Surely it would be better to wait until the Dark Lord is back in power to appeal to him personally? He's much safer, from the public and Dark, in prison, where only very high level Ministry officials can get to." Nott asked.
"I don't know," Draco answered exasperatedly. "Don't ask me. But it's the way things are. If you're so curious, Harry, get your dad to ask mine."
"What does my dad and yours have anything to do with each other?" Harry asked curiously.
"They only eat dinner together once a week or so," Draco snorted out, ignoring Harry's horror-stricken face. "They pretty much see each other all the time."
"W…what?!" Harry stammered, his voice laced with shock. Draco paused.
"You didn't know?" Draco asked, puzzled.
"No!"
Cygnus had a lot of explaining to do when Harry came back for the holidays.