In Willing Sacrifice

by GeMerope

When Harry Potter has the opportunity to erase Voldemort before the Dark Lord can resurrect, he finds out that walking a fine line between his own morality and the good of this world is more complicated than Harry could have ever imagined. Slow Burn, eventual HPLV.

86. C85 - No Place like Home

Chapter 85 – No place like home

---

Each and every shared dream with Voldemort was a unique experience, more so since they'd grown closer, so close they called each other partners – lovers. Neither word had lost its edge of novelty yet, though Harry felt a tad more comfortable with the former.

They sat side by side on the very top of a snowy mountain, the valley below a field of clouds that stretched beyond the horizon. It was his own dream; one he'd invited the other into subconsciously. Nonetheless, Voldemort looked like he belonged, chin jutted upwards as he gazed at the azure sky above, the wispy robes he wore billowing behind him in the wind. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if there had been a halo surrounding this ethereal being.

Other than in the world of the waking, he didn't feel the itch for physical closeness, something he partially suspected to be a side result of the way their magic sparked the nearer they were to each other. Leaning back on his hands, he enjoyed the view and waited for Voldemort to pick up the conversation they'd had before falling asleep. Having been extremely tired, Harry could only vaguely recall having been carried upstairs and talking about Voldemort's day – or rather listening to his partner while resting against a cold, distracting chest and attempting to pay enough attention to keep up. Clearly, he'd failed.

''I wish to live, not survive''

Harry sat up straighter and averted his eyes from the sky in favour of studying the Dark Lord. ''What makes you say that?'' he asked, noticing the small wrinkles in the man's otherwise ageless appearance, which only appeared when he was frowning.

In a motion that was both very human and alien, Voldemort licked his bottom lip as he thought of the answer. Only he didn't exactly have lips, and while dream-walking, his tongue was forked. Quite honestly, Harry wasn't certain what to make of it, only glad that Voldemort could not pick up his mixed emotions here. He didn't wish to be insulting.

''Merely a thought that came to me… I've wished to tell you since your escapade from the Ministry of Magic. I know it doesn't make much sense, which is why I hesitated. It did feel… good, to say it out loud.'' The man released a slightly frustrated sound. ''Although I very much dislike this feel of not being in absolute control. In the past months, I've looked into possible rituals to diminish the effects we have on each other to reverse some of your influence on me.''

''You didn't ask me if I wanted you to reverse it.''

''Were you not the one who wished to get rid of this link?'' Voldemort asked, sounding astonished now.

Speechless, Harry tried to think of when he might have given such an indicator. ''Wait… you aren't talking about what I said right after your resurrection, are you?'' When met with a solemn nod, he turned fully towards his partner. ''We're in a completely different situation now! It's been almost two years, years in which I've come to like what we share! No matter how… how overwhelming and confusing it can sometimes be. It's true that the side effects were stronger than either of us had expected, but I see it as a comfort now, not a burden. Do… do you not?''

''Even in dreams, it doesn't wane,'' Voldemort spoke, pressing a hand to his heart. ''This onslaught.'' He gave a wry grin. ''But you misunderstand me. All my life, I have attempted to keep the few emotions I could naturally feel in check and studied the rest to a degree that I was able to replicate them in situations it was needed. During that time, my focus was more on control over those feelings than feeling in itself. When our bond grew stronger, I admittedly… lost my nerve and tried to find a way to undo it so I could cling onto control again. Yet when I found the answer, I could only think of the time you took to make me understand myself. It's not perfect, but I was able to find gratitude for what I received. When I came to your aid yesterday, I was so certain that I had been betrayed again. Despite that, when seeing the disdain Dolores Umbridge harboured for you, I wished to rip her to shreds right then and there. And despite that, the idea of you still being in danger made me abandon that thought.'' He exhaled slowly. ''What I am trying to say is- the positives outweigh my struggle. I no longer wish to get rid of it.''

''A simple thank you would have sufficed,'' Harry grinned.

His partner's slitted pupils made a strange movement, and it took a second to understand Voldemort had rolled his eyes, the effect of which was diminished greatly due to there being no separate iris. ''I am the one who orchestrated every single ritual that led up to this, I should really be thanking myself,'' he haughtily commented.

''Ah yes,'' Harry snorted, scooting a bit closer so he could reach for Voldemort's hand. ''When it comes to pointing fingers, I am the one to blame but when you find it positive, it's suddenly all you.''

''That would be the idea,'' Voldemort replied, eyes glittering with mirth as he leaned in and captured Harry's lips to muffle any protest.

When they finally broke away, Harry glared and declared: ''You're impossible.''

''An apt descriptor. Much about me is improbable for certain.'' He sounded far too pleased about it.

''You know very well that isn't what I meant,'' the teen sighed. ''No matter. So, if I understood you correctly, you connect emotions with living now?'' he asked with curiosity.

''I always harboured the wish to escape death, but my goal was to exert my influence over this world forevermore, even beyond completing my task. Now… I wish to see more of this,'' he emphasised his words by gesturing at the sky. ''All of my travels and research, the war I waged and the times I commanded half a country… none of it made me look forward to whatever new wonders the next day might bring. I thought I was living before… you proved me wrong.''

''Not even during your time with Regulus?'' Harry hesitantly asked. ''I felt your emotions regarding him. You were genuinely distressed about it, to say the least.''

Voldemort took a while to answer, staring at the rolling blanket of clouds below, while the teen waited patiently. There was no such hurry as during other dreams they'd shared, since he knew where he'd be when waking. If morning dawned before their talk was finished, that finally no longer meant an unresolved talk.

''I never knew why he decided to abandon me. It led to an unresolved conflict that stranded in nothing as I died not long after and was left a spirit for twelve years. I felt what I could: anger, embarrassment and loss. I had been abandoned and slighted without knowing why. That was my focus and strengthened into what you described. During our actual relationship, I harboured much milder attachment. I enjoyed his company, the way he worshipped me and our physical relationship. It was a comfort to have someone at my side for once and it grew on me to the point that I would have wish to extend it into eternity. That was before I knew how different it could be. The main difference is that with Regulus, I only ever thought of what would benefit myself. With you-'' White fingers that glittered with patches of scales grasped Harry's chin, angling his face so they stared into each other's eyes. ''Well, let's just say that I thought you were scheming to kill me, you screamed at me, and I still helped your friend instead of getting answers first. It made me realise that my previous idea of what a rational reaction looks like might have been skewed.''

Harry felt the slightest bit of guilt for yelling and cursing at his partner. It had been wrong, even if he hadn't been the one to start throwing accusations and drawing wands. Knowing that Voldemort would never in his life make the first step towards an apology, he decided to take the high ground: ''As frustrated and scared as I was for Ron's life, what I said in the heat of the moment wasn't right. I'm sorry.''

Voldemort grunted and released him again. After a few seconds, he muttered: ''In hindsight, my allegations were too hasty as well. Since we don't seem to be able to avoid fighting at times, I would like to suggest that we at the very least keep it private from now on by exclusively using Parseltongue during disagreements. It helped neither of us that we exchanged threats in front of your friends and my followers.''

As much as Harry would have wished to ask to cease fighting altogether, his partner's request was far more realistic. They were bound to clash in the future again, being who they were: both stubborn to a fault, both bearing very different ideas on how the world should look and having influence over a great deal of people. ''Agreed,'' he sighed.

''Do you have any further grievance with me?'' Voldemort asked. The question reminded Harry of the day they'd become 'amicable' as Voldemort had named it, when they'd taken the time to speak about all that bothered them.

Unwillingly, as he hated to disturb the calm atmosphere, he admitted: ''A couple. That you killed another person out of the blue, that you kept showing your open dislike for Hermione over one mistake, that after all this time and literally being mentally connected to me you still thought me capable of going behind your back.'' He held up a hand when Voldemort looked like he wished to launch into a monologue to explain his actions. ''I can feel what you do and have gotten pretty good at picking up on your reasoning, so I understand the why behind it all after having hours to think on it. I only wish you to be aware of which of your actions I dislike, that is all for now.'' Harry faltered then, not sure if he wished to hear the answer to the question he ought to ask. ''Do you resent any of my actions?''

He braved himself for the tirade that would surely follow, about the recklessness of breaking into the Ministry, of putting trust in an army of teenagers to deal with time magic, about how useless all the studying for his O.W.L.s had been now.

''None,'' his partner answered.

Unsure whether he heard right, the Gryffindor asked: ''Err… really? Nothing?''

''Evan,'' the man chided, brushing Harry's bangs out of the way to reveal the jagged scar and stroking its path with the pad of a thumb, all the way down his cheek. ''You took up the mantle of a leader, took action where others – myself included – could only talk, came up with a scheme to stop a time-traveller that was thwarted only because she had a back-up plan you could not have foreseen and above all, every step of that way brought you to my doorstep. What would there be for me to resent? It's a pity about your education, but that comes with one great blessing for the both of us.''

''Which would be…?''

''I can continue teaching you instead.''

Harry laughed in relief, feeling a whole lot lighter now the feared condemnation hadn't happened.

''Although now you have proven how capable you are, there is none that I trust more for my next plan… and it involves lengthening your time at Hogwarts for at least a little while more.''

---

Stone corridors he'd passed through a thousand times. Portraits and sets of armour he'd never paid much attention to past the first times he'd seen them… It felt like a dream as much as it had felt like a cruel joke when Voldemort had explained what he expected Harry to do... To return to Hogwarts one last time, a few hours at best. Harry's legs were filled with lead when descending the stairs, heading for the dungeons before anyone could wake.

It was worse, somehow, feeling like a trespasser in his own home, one he would never be able to return to after today. Not like this. Realising he would have to give up his last two years at Hogwarts had been a shock, but at least a clear cut. This… he didn't know what this was, how it felt beyond an empty sort of pain. Had Voldemort felt the same way after being denied teaching, permanently? The last glimmer of hope for living within these breathing walls in the future, extinguished?

Harry drew the invisibility cloak tighter, hoping it would bring some warmth as he opened the entrance to the dungeons, feet taking him further automatically like they had so many times before, whereas his head was rather occupied with the awareness of lurking danger. If Umbridge would catch on too soon… if those who did not yet know their roles refused to play… escaping today might be more difficult than yesterday's miracle.

He arrived at the last place he'd personally have chosen to visit if he would have opted to take a memory-tour of Hogwarts in the future: Snape's office. Or rather, the heavy door right next to it, where Harry had never dared (nor needed) to ever knock before. The personal quarters of one of his most hated teachers – by now, Umbridge had been crowned with that title – wasn't a likely place to visit after all. With a nervous glance down the corridor with its weakly flickering candles affixed to the walls, he took the cloak off and stuffed it in the otherwise empty school bag he'd brought. He lifted his hand and rapped on the wood, highly aware of how the sound thundered. Three seconds later, he took an involuntary step backwards upon seeing a fully clothed Snape sneering down at him. It very much felt like the potion master was looking down on Harry from high above despite them being nearly the same height by now. The prompt appearance certainly added to the rumour of secretly being a Vampire, considering Snape looked wide awake and was dressed as if he'd just attended a dinner party, at half past five in the morning.

''Potter! If you think that you can pester me into giving you more potion lessons by showing up in the middle of the night-'' Snape tore into him before Harry had a chance to speak.

''I was sent by the Dark Lord,'' Harry interrupted in a hushed tone, not willing to waste precious time on useless discussions. To his credit, Snape's demeanour changed quicker than the colour on Uncle Vernon's face whenever magic was mentioned. At the admission, his entire form went even more rigid than usual. The glowering deepened significantly.

''Get in,'' he demanded, stepping aside to let Harry walk past. ''I already wondered…'' Snape muttered after the door was closed, running a thumb over his left forearm, a tell-tale sign that Voldemort had already sent his personal heads-up. Harry wasn't entirely sure why his partner had bothered, since stings of pain were nowhere near detailed or helpful enough to actually convey what he wanted of his followers when not accompanied by the tug of calling them to his side. He suspected that Voldemort just used it as an excuse to remind Snape whom he was bound to serve. How petty. At least there now was an answer to why the potion master was already up and about.

Snape was surprisingly civil, gesturing for Harry to sit and even giving him a cup of tea. It smelled so foul that he at first thought it to be a mean-spirited prank, until realising Snape was already on the second cup himself, which had definitely been poured from the same pot. Harry drank out of politeness while taking a curious glance at Snape's quarters, which he'd likely never have the opportunity to do again. It was disappointingly plain with unpainted brick walls and sparse wooden furniture. The only splashes of colour came from potions that stood on a desk in the corner. Through an open door in the back, he saw the edge of a regular bed which did not have the shape of a coffin. It looked like he would be able to get some gold from the Weasley Twins' betting pot if he ever saw them again. The teen took another sip of tea - whatever had been used in the brew, it eased the tension he'd felt so strongly before - and faced Snape.

''A few things have happened in the past sixteen-ish hours that you need to know before I can explain why I am here, specifically,'' Harry started. Without any further snappy remarks, the other listened intently to the shortened version of events. As Harry had by now explained it several times, he was able to cut down to the core of it: the plan to destroy the time turners, Umbridge's meddling with time and their narrow escape that unfortunately left them public enemies. The only difficult hurdle was describing the D. A. without actually mentioning it beyond vaguely saying that some students stood by him in support for this plan. Hermione's jinx specifically activated when revealing the existence of Dumbledore's Army or their meetings to a teacher and Harry wasn't going to take the risk. By the end, Snape was only marginally paler than usual.

''You are here to ensure the timeline is not interrupted,'' Snape deduced, tapping a finger against his bottom lip in thought. ''What is the plan, concretely?''

Harry couldn't say how relieved he was that Snape was being cooperative. It might be the very first time that he truly was glad to have the surly professor's ear. The question was slightly problematic however, as Snape would definitely not like the answer. After going upstairs and falling asleep in Voldemort's arms, he and his partner had talked throughout the night in their dreams about what had to be done. Sending Harry to supervise the happenings at Hogwarts had been a last-minute decision, born out of Voldemort's wish to have Harry prove he really did best what he claimed: improvisation.

''There isn't much of a plan,'' he admitted. ''We do have some things to work with, of course. Before Umbridge travelled back, she heard of the break-in via the paper. Yet she didn't connect it to us until figuring out we'd tampered with her time-turner as we'd escaped without being noticed. This time around, Fudge knows exactly who broke into the Ministry yesterday and has apparently already announced it to the press. If she gets even a snippet of actual news, she'll know it was us and travel back far too soon. She'll receive an altered version of the Prophet at breakfast, that is taken care of. However, we can't have her listening to the radio, or have Minister Fudge attempt to contact her. That is why I showed up so early: I needed at least one accomplice who knows the true version of events. She trusts you more than any of the other teachers… I need you to draw her out of her office and then keep an eye on her, while I attempt to mask the fact that neither Ron nor Hermione returned to Hogwarts to not draw suspicion. I wish to tell my friends part of the truth, but since we'll have classes today, the other professors will expect them to show up. So, I have this…'' from the pocket of his robes, he withdrew two vials, each with a couple of hairs. ''I sincerely hope you have Polyjuice in stock, otherwise I'll need to think of something else.''

Snape gritted his teeth. ''Of course I do not keep Polyjuice in stock, Potter! I only brew it once a year for educational purposes to show the sixth-year students. Especially after Crouch raided my potion supplies for ingredients to brew it, I have ensured no-one can so easily get their hands on such a dangerous potion again. I did make a few batches for the Order, but that supply went straight to Albus himself. I am not aware of where he stores it.''

Disappointing, but not the end of the world, Harry thought. ''Okay… no Polyjuice then. Hmm… the go-to excuse for students missing classes would be an accident they'd need visit the Hospital Wing for.''

''Hexing a couple of volunteers to make them unrecognisable won't work, considering the students you would use as replacements for Weasley and Granger would then be missing instead.''

''I was more thinking of asking Madam Pomfrey for a favour. She's on probation with her job on the line. I'm positive that she won't ask for too many details if I ensure her this will get rid of Umbridge for good.''

The scowl that followed had been expected. ''You wish to not only involve a bunch of unreliable Gryffindors, but now the school nurse as well? Because you have a hunch that she won't report this?''

''It's not my fault that Hogwarts' only potion professor doesn't keep useful potions in stock,'' Harry retorted.

Snape gripped the armrest of his chair a bit tighter than before. It sounded very much as if he was doing his utmost best to control his temper when changing the topic: ''You said the Dark Lord captured Dolores… is she dead?''

''No. But she won't be left with the kind of power she seeks, after today. That's all I have to say about it,'' Harry resolutely replied. Allies or not, he didn't need to go into detail about things that didn't concern Snape. Especially not when taking into account the man's questionable history with werewolves.

''This is a mess,'' Snape complained, rubbing his left temple with a pained expression. ''You always leave a mess. I cannot believe the Dark Lord condoned this… plan.'' Harry wondered at which point in life Snape had learned to perfect that derogatory tone which could make any word sound like a pile of manure.

''The only alternative was hoping for the best with three students missing and no teachers informed,'' Harry shrugged. ''What is your suggestion then? We have… only about an hour left until breakfast now. We have to get moving no matter which course of action we decide to take. Ideally, I want to gather everyone who helped yesterday before breakfast starts, so they don't wonder where Ron and Hermione are. They have to know that we sort of succeeded but are on the run now.''

''Why are you so adamant about my colleagues not finding out, save for Umbridge? You don't sound as if you intend to stay past the point where Dolores reverses time and disappears. Everyone will figure you are missing eventually.''

Harry frowned. Didn't Snape know anything about the other professors? ''If McGonagall finds out, she'll get worried. If they piece together what happened after I am gone, there's no chance for awkward conversations in which I have to walk through a minefield of questions I can't answer. She'll also report my behaviour to Dumbledore, who will already be suspicious enough by the entire situation. The same goes for most other teachers.''

Snape let out a scoffing sound that might have resembled a laugh if it hadn't been so cynical. ''Albus will know,'' he predicted darkly.

''Sorry?''

Coal eyes met his own head on. ''Albus Dumbledore knows you have been practising dark magic for a long time, Potter. You fooled him temporarily by making use of his good faith in people… that will no longer hold after today. You disappeared with outside help from the depths of the Department of Mysteries, outside help that left the corpse of Rufus Scrimgeour and a hundred thousand shattered prophecies. That the Ministry of Magic is in denial does not mean that Albus won't see the signature of the Dark Lord scrawled all over that crime scene. If you'd have stayed away, perhaps he might have suspected a kidnapping. Now that you returned to Hogwarts and are planning on attending social gatherings and classes before vanishing again, you all but sent Albus a letter containing nothing but a crude drawing to tell him you quit. Don't tell me that didn't cross your mind. He won't be suspicious, Potter. He'll know.''

Harry was silent for a while. It's not as if he hadn't considered that at all, but hearing it spelled out…

''Good,'' he decided, stating it loudly. ''Then he'll know I'm through with his games. Maybe I should leave him an actual letter.'' In a way, it would be a relief, no longer having to play pretend.

''Are you mad?''

Vehemently, Harry shook his head and stood. ''No, I am trying to save a lot of people unneeded effort. If Dumbledore will know regardless, I might as well attempt to explain it to him. Why I made the choices I did. Why he shouldn't bother searching for me, or anyone of the Order for that matter. Who knows, it might make him think twice about his preconceived notions. Can I borrow a quill?''

Snape didn't move. ''A letter would be evidence. Even a self-destructive letter would remain evidence in form of a memory. Try to be a tad smarter than your usual self and have some sense, Potter. You just suggested writing Albus Dumbledore a note that states the Dark Lord has returned and that you are doing the very opposite of playing along with what Albus wants you to. You know what that would mean? War!'' he snarled. ''The very thing we're all trying to avoid! So put your scattered braincells together and get out of here!''

Why did this man always have the ability to make Harry feel like a three-year-old toddler? Merlin, he'd taught people older than he was, slayed legendary monsters and melted the slightest fraction of the Dark Lord's heart, yet here Snape was calling him out on irresponsible choices. ''If you're not going to help me-'' he heatedly started.

''Of course I will help you!'' Snape hissed in return, expression cracking with frustration. ''I am currently helping you by giving advice, whether you like hearing what I have to say or not!'' Wordlessly, the man summoned a scroll of parchment. ''You need to learn that not everything can be achieved by flying on your damned luck, you idiot boy. We'll do this my way, which will not involve writing a thrice-damned confession letter to our Lord's greatest enemy!''

XxX

Three weeks. Three measly weeks it had been since he'd had to clean up behind Potter and the Dark Lord. Severus couldn't even recall most of it as the memories regarding it had been erased, apart from a private conversation he'd had with Lucius and Narcissa afterwards that the Dark Lord hadn't found out about. Having those scraps of information as well as being a competent Legilimens had enabled him to identify where his mind had gaps, even if he was unable to fill them in again. Not that he actively wished to do so, when his own short explanation to his friends contained more information than anyone would wish to know.

And now Potter was here, at Hogwarts, yet again entangled in a mess of his own making. One he'd dragged the Dark Lord into once more too.

Severus could not express just how little he desired to help. Alas, someone with more than a few withered braincells should take the lead before a certain Gryffindor dug his own grave even deeper by running around Hogwarts mindlessly. He wasn't certain whether to believe the ludicrous claim that a gang of four teenagers had supposedly succeeded in getting in and out of the Department of Mysteries unseen once. Potter didn't have evidence to back it up now that the timeline had been 'changed', so he chalked it up to embellishment.

Not that it mattered. Far more concerning than the actual tale of that little adventure were the background information and the consequences. Dolores Umbridge had gone further than he'd thought possible and it would be her downfall… if they could make her repeat her steps. Time magic wasn't something Severus had personally bothered with after reading about all the restrictions. Being confronted with it now was thus out of his comfort zone… Still, he considered himself to be much better equipped to deal with this than Potter was, who appeared to have only a marginal grasp on the subject at best. For one, they'd landed in a situation where creating the original circumstances were sheer impossible due to Umbridge's previous meddling. Her future self had leaked information that would not have been known yet, information she had received from a person who now was not present at Hogwarts: Hermione Granger.

In itself, that created a paradox they'd somehow need to trick their way out of. Otherwise… well, to be entirely fair, Severus did not know what otherwise might happen. He hadn't been confronted with time paradoxes before. A small part of the experimental soul in him would like to wait and see what would come about, a larger part knew he wouldn't even live to see it if this had the potential to harm Harry Potter. The Vow bound his life in iron chains. Pursuing any course of action which he knew could endanger Potter's life would swiftly end his own. That left him unwillingly analysing solutions instead.

Going at this logically, the key points were Dolores Umbridge receiving the right amount of information at the right time and deciding to turn back time at the right moment with the intention of stopping Potter and his friends. Whom the information was delivered by wasn't strictly vital to the continuation of this timeline. That led to the obvious choice of Potter himself stepping into what had previously been Granger's role. Only, Umbridge would seek out Granger specifically…

The only solution he found was to change the course of events more significantly than Potter had intended, in order to create the desired results. Thus leading Severus to the door of Dolores' office half an hour before breakfast.

''Severus! What brings you here?'' she asked, raising her eyebrows upon inviting him in.

''A request, Headmistress,'' he spoke, eyes wandering across the office. There was no radio in sight… good. He hadn't expected one either as Umbridge loved getting news from the only Prophet allowed inside of the castle, knowing that only she had a right to access its secret contents. It was still better to be on the safe side just in case. ''I must commend you on the way you so swiftly dealt with the rebellious students last evening,'' he mentioned. Finally, he had an answer as to why they'd all been so rowdy, a distraction to exchange the time-turner Umbridge carried on her. Admittedly a move on a scale he hadn't thought Potter capable of organising. ''However, a few of my more trusted students informed me that she overheard this was not the end of it. They have not all been properly punished yet. I realise that education goes hand in hand with instilling proper discipline. I wish to ask for your permission to nip their plans in the bud by rounding up a fair amount of known troublemakers and giving them a… reminder. ''

''Punishing them in advance?'' the woman asked with a smile. ''Severus, what an excellent idea! It will also single them out so that all good students will know whom to watch out for. What did you have in mind?''

''Instead of attending regular classes today, the selected students will spend the day in my classroom, where I will lecture them on respect, put their empty heads and hands to work and perhaps emphasise my point using a… method of your choice, Headmistress. I already comprised a list of rowdy students here, who were all punished within the past months by you or seen committing acts of violence and destruction yesterday. Even those who refrained from joining the fray last evening could use a reminder to discourage them from future unwanted behaviour.''

With Potter's absence yesterday, the boy otherwise would not qualify for this 'punishment' in the first place.

It had taken a bit of convincing to get the stubborn Gryffindor to accept this plan, finally agreeing to not physically harm any students, a promise that would not be difficult to keep if Umbridge disappeared in the afternoon already. Severus sincerely hoped that the boy would stick to the script… He handed Dolores the parchment scrolls on which he'd written all names Potter had grudgingly given him: students who had aided him in organising the rebellion yesterday - excluding the Slytherins to not raise suspicion. It was disconcerting to know there had been Slytherins involved to start with…

''I think there are a few missing here,'' she frowned. Of course. Not only Potter's unruly friends had broken rules before or rebelled yesterday. Many more students who weren't in on the ploy had planted Weasley Wizard Wheezes products in the hallways as an excuse to skip class.

''My classroom can only hold so many,'' he reasoned. ''Nor would I wish them to get the idea that they'd outnumber me in strength. These students will serve as an example for the rest.''

She puckered her lips and took a pink quill. ''Very well then. It will also get the worst of the lot out of my hair for the day.'' Hastily, she scribbled a signature at the bottom of the list. ''How long do you expect this to last?''

''Well into the evening,'' he promptly answered. ''Some basic food can be brought to them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I see no need to grant them an unlimited feast on a day they are being punished.''

''I agree entirely. I am pleased that you are taking the role of Deputy Headmaster so seriously, Severus. It's a leap of improvement from Minerva's attempts to undermine my authority. Now, chop chop.'' She clapped excitedly. ''Time to start the day!''

XxX

A cacophony of sound broke out as soon as Snape had brought them all inside the dungeons, threatened them into silence and then promptly left again. Last time around, Umbridge had attempted to contact Fudge directly after breakfast after all, which could not be allowed as the Minister would surely give her different information about the break-in now. Harry hated having to rely on Snape of all people to execute this smoothly… on the other hand, he was admittedly more competent than the majority of people Harry had met concerning spying and fooling others.

The moment the door closed, everyone left their desks to form a circle around their returned leader. Neville patted him awkwardly on the back, the Patil sisters and Lavender offered him some sweets they'd snatched from the breakfast table before they'd been escorted out by Aurors and Collin was snapping pictures like crazy.

''Harry!'' Ginny exclaimed. ''You're back! We were all so worried. Where are the others? Where's Ron?''

Next to her stood Luna, for once not so dreamy-eyed. ''Did the Vampires get you?'' she asked breathlessly.

''The Vamp..? Forget it, no, there were no Vampires. There was a whole bunch of Aurors that we hadn't expected though,'' Harry answered, standing up so he didn't have to strain his neck. ''First of all, I want to thank all of you for your efforts, I heard it was one hell of a show to behold and that Umbridge's office is surrounded by sand pits.''

''My doing,'' Lee grinned proudly.

''You succeeded in what I asked, yes?'' he inquired, both to not raise suspicion in having too much information and to find out if there hadn't been any unexpected changes due to the strange twists of time they were entwined in.

Cedric answered: ''Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters convinced Umbridge they were on her side. When she gave them the title of Inquisitorial squad, Parkinson managed to get close enough to switch the time-turner out and gave it to Ernie, who was passing by and brought it to me. As per your instructions, I got rid of it. Destroyed it out on the grounds with a reductor curse.''

He was relieved to hear it had been Cedric who'd destroyed the thing. Many of the other D. A. members, he didn't trust well enough to not second-guess their motivations. Like Draco, who'd admitted to wanting to keep one. Now, he could be certain that it was gone. ''Perfect. Now for my story… basically, we were seen.''

The room fell quickly silent, excitement waning. ''And what does that mean…? My brother and Hermione, were they… were they caught?'' Ginny demanded to know.

''They're somewhere safe,'' he reassured. ''But unfortunately, a bunch of Aurors and Minister Fudge know that Hermione, Ron, Draco and I broke into the Department of Mysteries and were very… destructive. We're wanted now.''

Disbelieving cries echoed through the dungeon until Harry held up a hand. ''We knew this could happen, all four of us were aware of the danger. I returned to Hogwarts to see that everything happens like it is supposed to, as well as to get some of our important possessions and to reassure you lot that we aren't dead. We're in hiding as getting caught means not only being formally expelled from Hogwarts, but also likely ending up in Azkaban. However, we didn't wish to vanish without a word, as rescue parties are the last thing we need when attempting to escape being tracked down by the government.'' One step of his plan had already been completed: a bag filled with his and Ron's most precious items was stowed away halfway up the tunnel leading to Hogsmeade, where it would be accessible even if something went wrong and he couldn't leave through that exit. It had been easy to sneak into Gryffindor tower under his invisibility cloak while everyone else had just left on the way for breakfast, right before getting escorted here instead. It was unfortunate that he couldn't enter the girls' dorms, but Hermione had been more prepared than either he or Ron had been and had assured Harry he needn't worry about bringing anything from her room.

''We need new directions, then. And a new leader, if we wish to battle Umbridge after you are gone,'' Justin spoke up, looking around for support.

Before an entire discussion could start, Harry said: ''I agree about new leadership. If all goes to plan though, none of you will need to worry about Umbridge after today. While I cannot reveal too much, because there's too great a risk with this kind of magic, I can say that we are still trapped in time magic.''

''Even though we stole her time-turner?''

''Even so,'' Harry confirmed solemnly. ''I need to be exceedingly careful, and you guys all need to stay here. Together.''

''You're lucky Professor Snape decided to punish us all today then,'' said Seamus, crossing his arms.

''That wasn't luck,'' he admitted, catching their interest. ''Whatever your – or my – personal opinion of Snape may be, he's not on the side of the Ministry of Magic.''

''Bullshit, where are all the Slytherins then?'' Alicia spoke up in frustration. ''He didn't drag them down here to scrub cauldrons or chewed them out about yesterday!''

''He's trying to put up a front for Umbridge!'' Harry defended the man. The world may really be coming to an end. ''We just managed to convince the toad that she has the support of the Slytherins, why would she wish to punish them too? Forget what you believe about Snape's supposed loyalty to Umbridge, he is helping us put this right while asking far less questions than any other teacher would as he's a man of action first and foremost. I have doubted Snape multiple times over the years, but you know what? I should have listened to Dumbledore when he said that Severus Snape did not intend to harm me. Hate me, maybe, but he's also saved my life when it came down to it. So please, do as he says when he returns.''

''If we have to wait here anyways, then instead tell us about how your own mission went!'' Neville asked. ''We're all dying to know what dangers you overcame!''

Harry attempted to stretch the story as far as he could, starting with the Thestral flight and then describing every step they took in great detail. When he got to the Space with floating planets, Snape finally stormed in again, saving Harry from having to come up with an alternative story of how they escaped.

''Back to your seats,'' he snarled. ''This is not a fun break from your usual activities.''

Perhaps motivated by Harry's earlier words, they obeyed and slowly sat down at the desks, where dirty cauldrons and unprepared ingredients appeared. The Gryffindor should have known that Snape was still an opportunist at heart and having several dozen students at his disposure would not remain wasted. Harry grabbed a grater and a few ginger roots. It would take hours until Umbridge would notice the problem with her time turner…

Slow hours indeed passed, during which Snape disappeared now and then, presumably to check that Umbridge didn't divert from the schedule she was supposed to adhere to in order to have everything work out. He tried to stay positive about their chances. Perhaps she wouldn't even try to contact Fudge at all. There had been a few adaptations to the 'original' article that Voldemort had seen Umbridge reading in her memories, making sure to specifically mention the destruction of time-turners to put her on the right track without needing that additional information from Fudge to put two and two together when her own would start acting up.

The D.A. used those moments also to hound Harry for more details, ask for hints as to where he was going to stay or attempted to give advice. He remained mostly silent, too caught up in thoughts. The clock was ticking… what if it started ticking backwards again? What if it stopped? Would they be able to guide the events into the needed direction or would they all be swallowed up in a black hole and cease to exist? His fingers hurt from shelling beetles, muscles were cramped from scrubbing cauldrons, yet he didn't slack off.

This was the last bit of Hogwarts life he'd ever have. He would be sure to cling onto every moment of this treacherous normalcy. Even if it felt like detention with Snape and the last bite he'd taste from the kitchens was a cheese sandwich.

''Potter!'' Startled, he looked up at Snape, who was leaning over his desk.

''Is it time?'' he asked quietly.

''Umbridge ordered me to escort you to her office.''

Harry swallowed down the uncomfortable lump in his throat, a vague idea of what was to come. Voldemort had mentioned that Umbridge had extracted the information through either Truth Serum or torture. Or both. ''Why does she even have access to Veritaserum?'' he asked when he trailed behind the potion professor. ''Couldn't you have substituted it with something else?'' It would be a pain to distract her enough to make the drink she'd give him disappear unnoticed.

''I did when Albus was still here,'' the man muttered. ''I could no longer risk that when she became Headmistress. Remember, Potter: the effects of the truth serum can be reduced by Occlumency. Use it. And be silent now, you already caused enough trouble as is.''

Any other day, Harry would very much have liked to discuss how none of this was really his fault and having done anything else would have been a worse option. Right now, pointing the blame didn't seem all too important. He shut up for the rest of the way, taking the man's advice by shielding his mind as well as he possibly could while dragging himself to Umbridge's office, in front of which Dawlish stood guard, who gave Harry a scrutinising one-over.

''I'll hand him to you, Dawlish,'' Snape spoke. ''The brats will tear up my classroom if I'm gone for more than five minutes.''

Right, Snape had been nowhere near Umbridge the first time (second time?) so it made sense he wished to distance himself from the situation. Swallowing, Harry entered the office. On top of the desk stood his friend's hourglass. Somehow, someway, Snape had managed to replace Hermione's name with Harry's without even touching the thing, causing Umbridge to drag him here instead.

Umbridge was wearing a patronising smile. He swore it would be the last time that expression would ever grace her ugly face. The only thought stopping him from casting a nasty curse on the woman was the knowledge of the true punishment that she was as of yet blissfully unaware of. How self-satisfied would she be when the werewolf's curse started burning under her skin? Would she ever dare look down on others after witnessing her own hands transform into the claws of what she deemed to be a monster? All the hatred that Harry felt and wished he could project directly into her brain… she would feel it. She would be the cause of it.

He sat down and drank the laced lemon tea without complaint, his mind as protected and organised as possible.

''Now tell me everything about what you did to my time-turner and why.''

The following minutes were fine. While battling the fog that threatened to creep into his head, Harry told her what she was supposed to hear, what Hermione would have said – minus mentioning the D.A. since it was not important in the long run. It became worse the moment she flipped out, screaming, rambling. Then, she turned her wand on him and Harry realised his mistake. Umbridge couldn't torture him – if she tried, the protective shields Voldemort had given him would activate and harm her instead. In a violent move that he hoped was believable enough, he 'broke free' from the grasp the Veritaserum was supposed to have on him. He landed on the floor, barely managing to dodge an incoming spell before pointing his own wand at her, craning his neck to look up as he lay awkwardly on the floor.

''You will never have what you want,'' he spurred her on. ''You can't change the past now. We took everything from you.''

Her face twisted into something bitter first, but she suddenly looked up at the wall. Following her gaze, he saw a simple mirror hanging there.

''No…'' she breathed, composing herself. ''None of this mattered. None of this is real, for the future is in my hands. You are an image of a tomorrow that won't come.'' Without another glance at the teen, the witch got behind her desk and opened a drawer. She stared at something in her hand with a smile. ''You didn't win, silly. Did you think that I wouldn't have accounted for everything? Stay down!'' she snarled as he attempted to get up. Umbridge moved towards the back wall, where she opened a hidden compartment. There it was, the time-turner Harry had destroyed earlier today. He didn't attempt to stop her, a catharsis settling down over him as her hand moved, stubby fingers turning over the glittering hourglass.

In front of his eyes, the ignorant version of Umbridge disappeared, who would never be the wiser.

The clock was ticking again. Unstoppable. Inevitable. Counting forwards to vengeance.

He didn't revel in it for too long. All had gone to plan - Snape's plan, which was a tad annoying but also irrelevant as it had worked – and Harry shouldn't linger longer than strictly necessary. He gripped his wand tightly and swung open the door, sending a stunner at Dawlish, whom he caught off guard. The Auror dropped like a sack of potatoes, another crime to add to Harry's list. Had he already reached a life sentence when accumulating all his deeds in the past two days?

''Potter!'' Harry looked up, freezing for a second when noticing Savage, who'd just rounded the corner, looking as if he'd ran all the way here. ''Halt! By order of the Minister of Magic, you are under arrest!'' the man shouted. That suited Harry just fine, as it granted a few seconds to decide on his next course of action while Savage wasted his breath.

Harry bolted, sprinting down in the opposite direction, feet hammering on the tiles as he ran towards the nearest shortcut he only had knowledge of due to the marauder's map. One that Savage hopefully had never discovered. There was only a fraction of time where he was out of sight, hearing loud footsteps approaching. He lit the third candle of a sconce on the wall, which cracked to reveal a hidden door. Harry blew out the candle again in passing and slipped through, taking a breather before casting a lumos and continuing down the hidden winding staircase as fast as he could. He needed to reach Snape… If only he had the actual map, so he could be certain that the potion master had returned to the classroom. He prayed that the dungeons wouldn't be the first spot they'd search.

Savage had wished to arrest him… not just stop, not punish by school rules. Arrest. That meant word must have reached them from the Ministry about what had happened. Or perhaps they'd simply listened to the radio. Voldemort had much less influence over it than the written news and it was still allowed as a source of news at Hogwarts. Harry had known about that of course, but he'd hoped that any other teachers who might listen to the morning news would not bother discussing it with those they hated and that they wouldn't know Harry had returned to Hogwarts. He'd completely forgotten about the possibility of the Aurors doing the same. Was it luck that they hadn't caught on before, or had Snape taken care of Harry's oversight in that regard?

All the while cursing under his breath, Harry exited the hidden stairway, feeling naked without being able to don his invisibility cloak. It was still in the dungeons as Harry hadn't wished Umbridge to find it in case he would have been searched. Instead, he tried to stick close to walls, waited every now and then behind pillars and in alcoves and avoided places with too many portraits until at long last, he stumbled into the potion classroom again where he was met with applause by the members of his army. It didn't last long, as Snape strode towards him and gave them all venomous looks.

''Get back to work,'' he sneered, casting a silencing barrier when reaching Harry, who'd just taken his previously abandoned bag and had already gratefully taken out the cloak. ''Is it done?'' the man spoke.

''She reversed time in the right moment, yeah,'' Harry answered. ''So that is taken care of. I had to stun Dawlish though and shortly after, Savage wanted to arrest me. I think I should disappear fast. Sir… are you also joining soon? Ron really needs a Healer.'' They'd discussed Ron's condition at the very start, as well as Voldemort's words on Snape being one of the few reliable healers he could count on. However, the potion master hadn't been thrilled about that news and hadn't made any promises yet.

''I am the Deputy Headmaster now, Potter. I cannot simply disappear off into the countryside for a couple of hours!'' the man argued. ''The Headmistress just vanished in thin air, and I have Aurors in the castle who are out for blood. Before this settles, Weasley will have to just keep his head still to not scramble his brain more than usual. As soon as it is safe, I will visit. Do not pressure me.''

''Fine,'' Harry conceded, knowing he wasn't going to get a better answer. If his partner really deemed Ron to be in grave danger, he would surely be able to procure a different healer. Voldemort had a whole army abroad and hundreds of followers within Britain.

''Then finally follow the advice I gave you several hours ago and leave, Potter,'' Snape grumbled. ''Not that I don't think it would be good for the entirety of society if you were removed from it, but I somehow doubt the Dark Lord would agree. An Azkaban breakout isn't worth the few days without chaos.''

As always, Snape had the weirdest sense of humour - if it had been supposed to be a joke, Harry wasn't wholly positive about that. Finding it better not to take the bait, he simply hoisted his bag over his shoulder and turned back to all the members of his army who'd been gathered here, walking a few steps forwards so the silencing barrier was broken. ''This is goodbye for now,'' he told them, feeling a bit awkward. Farewells were always the hardest part. ''You were all amazing this year. I'm so glad to have been a part of this. To have found so many reliable friends to fight alongside. We won the battle we fought against Umbridge, but I hope that won't be the end.''

''We'll stick together, no worries about that,'' Cho spoke, winding an arm around Cedric's waist. She smiled brightly. ''It was an honour to have been taught by you, Harry.''

''It will be strange to finish Hogwarts without you there,'' Angelina admitted, coming closer to pat his shoulder briefly. ''Even if I never forgave you for quitting the team,'' she grinned wryly. ''Wherever you're going, I hope you'll have the opportunity to fly again. Quidditch talent like yours is damned hard to find and it would be a mighty shame if you'd give it up.''

''Hear hear,'' Ginny chimed in. ''Would have preferred to be a Chaser but nooo, had to pick up your slack instead.''

A dry cough cut through the sentiments before Harry could reply. ''As tearful as this exchange is to watch,'' their potion professor sneered, ''Do remind me how many Aurors are currently searching the school for you, Potter?''

''I got it, I got it…'' he sighed, letting his gaze wander over the crowd once more. Aurors or not though, he felt obligated to not leave them entirely without direction. ''One last thing: never forget to be critical. Of what you're told, what you are taught. Of whomever you choose to put your conviction in. And whichever way we will meet each other again in the future, know that I truly do care for every single one of you.'' It wasn't exactly the rousing speech he'd imaged when parting ways with the D.A., instead a feeble attempt to get his last feelings across. Harry didn't know in which light any of them would see him when his allegiance to Voldemort would be revealed. As much as he wished to shout it out into the world, he might as well have written a letter to Dumbledore after all if he told anyone about it here.

With a heavy heart, he left the dungeons, once more covered head to toe by his invisibility cloak. It was busier now: he had to dodge groups of students in narrow corridors and make a stronger effort not to make noise, but in the end made it to the statue of the one-eyed, hump-backed witch (Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, as Voldemort had once corrected when Harry had talked about his adventures of travelling through the passageways) without being spotted by any ill-meaning individuals.

Whether imaged or not, after one too many steps, the Gryffindor had the strong feeling of leaving the trusty wards of Hogwarts in a way he never had before. Squaring his jaw, Harry picked up the previously deposited possessions and grasped the rim of his glasses. ''Morsmordre,'' he whispered to activate the Portkey. It whisked him away – away from the only place he'd ever comfortably called home.

XxX

Having worked in soothing darkness, Voldemort snapped his fingers to light a floating candle above the desk as soon as a blue flash briefly illuminated his study. Without meaning to, he instantly started picking at the feel of his partner's magic – sensing it was frayed, distraught. He understood, one of the seldom times Voldemort managed to empathise. Harry stood frozen in the spot he'd landed in, wrapped up in grief. The chair creaked as he rose and carefully approached his partner, taking the passive face in his hands and carefully wrapping his energy around them both.

''Welcome home.''

Emerald eyes finally snapped up. There was sadness in them that was bound to nestle there for a while.

''Hogwarts was-''

''You belong with me,'' he interrupted the pitiful croak. ''At my side, wherever that may be. If it helps: none of the memories you had of Hogwarts were as strong as the ones you made today, knowing you wouldn't return. Solidify them, build them into your mindscape and allow that to heal you.''

Shoulders tensed as Harry curled in on himself ever so slightly. ''Is that what you did?''

''Yes,'' he admitted. ''I held onto lingering sentiments for a while, until I could focus on something new. It helped when I found another permanent place of residence. You already have that.''

The teen finally leaned into him and released a long breath. ''You know, after all the trouble we went through with the whole custody process, it's kind of a shame that I was only part of the Malfoy family for a few weeks. I bet Narcissa and Lucius are going to be angrier at me than you are for ruining their good name – and dragging Draco into it to boot. We can't exactly hide at Malfoy manor, can we?''

The question had been expected at some point, though a twinge of displeasure made itself known at it being asked so soon. Attempting to ignore Harry's words of 'family', he feigned ignorance and replied: ''On the contrary, hiding in plain sight is an excellent idea. I will not continue to house Draco, his parents have enough spare rooms they can move some of his belongings to while pretending their son is still missing. I arranged for them to visit after work to pick him up.''

Harry appeared a bit lost at that. ''What, just him?'' he asked, clearly confused.

Concentrating on his partner's emotions, Voldemort felt guilt, worry and no small amount of dread. With great effort, he swallowed down the rising jealousy. It wasn't necessary, whichever attachment they'd formed was inconsequential in the grander scheme. As Harry had reminded him multiple times, one could apparently enjoy the company of multiple people in different ways. It sounded fake, but in an attempt to steer clear of negativity, he assured: ''You're not being thrown out by them, if that is the line of thought that leads to your depressed mood. But someone needs to keep Nagini entertained and Barty fed.'' When the other released a shaky laugh, he figured that his guess had been correct.

''I was always hesitant to call this place home,'' the other admitted softly. ''Barty once told me that I could and that you would probably not mind either. Still, it was always your house, where I was a mere guest for the holidays.''

Silence descended as Voldemort mulled the words over in his head, attempting to understand what Harry wanted to hear. Was he not pleased by the prospect of living here? Did he truly not wish to leave the new place he'd carved for himself in Malfoy manor? It was understandable to not wish all the time and effort go to waste and yet… having Harry leave again so soon was absolutely inacceptable. Besides, the suggestion that Harry had only been a guest before felt ludicrous. Although it was not his style to press his partner's nose on the facts instead of letting Harry figure it out by himself, it might be good to make his viewpoint a bit clearer regarding this.

''You are the one who made this house liveable in the first place,'' he pointed out. ''You rearranged the entire bloody kitchen according to how it would be most easily useable by you. You have your personal bedroom, which has so far only been used by you or those affiliated with you since I arrived here. You even remodelled the garden to have a more accessible gravesite to visit. What more do you need to call anywhere your home?''

Awkwardly, Harry stepped away and looked at the floor. It only took a few seconds before waves of mirth were dancing in the air and the teen's chest was heaving with breathless laughs ''I'm an idiot, aren't I?''

''You should have known that since you were eleven and sorted into Gryffindor,'' Voldemort snarked. ''Now we have cleared that up, do report what happened at Hogwarts. Naturally you succeeded, otherwise you wouldn't be here, but I wish for a more detailed account.''

He conjured another chair for Harry to sit down on, who happily launched into a recounting of the past few hours, previous sadness all but forgotten as he told of their success. At the end of the tale, Voldemort leaned back, satisfied. ''Now there is no timeline anymore with two versions of Dolores Umbridge, the damage she did should start to mend itself slowly. The students of Hogwarts will think twice about messing with time magic anywhere soon.''

''What, you think that is enough?'' the other questioned with disbelief. ''I thought this had grave consequences! Parts of Hogwarts were shifting through time!''

Of course, that was a valid concern. However, as much as Voldemort wished to mend the damage by himself, there was the slightly problematic matter of not being able to get into Hogwarts. After all the dealings he went through by battling the Ministry underhandedly through the press, not even his favoured disguise could bring him into the castle without catching too much attention. ''It all depends on future actions,'' he explained, steepling his fingers together. ''Word of your deeds will surely spread like wildfire now the new Headmistress isn't in the picture anymore. I disagree with most of the staff decisions Dumbledore made, but McGonagall and Flitwick are capable enough. Once they finally catch onto the situation, they'll know what precautions to take and how to handle the current time-lapses. Besides that, you must never forget that magic strives for balance. The source of the disturbance has been removed, which leaves time to heal in much the same way as a physical flesh wound would. Thus, we are left with only one loose end: our captive.''

XxX

Roughly three hours later, Harry landed in a wet, wild field with a sopping sound. As the sky was already darkening and he'd been in a brightly lit room seconds ago, it took a while to really register anything else apart from the fact that he'd arrived outside. Blinking rapidly, he started making out more shapes and finally noticed that the field bordered a forest. Due to the nature of his Portkey, Voldemort had to be close, but Harry didn't spot his partner when looking around, not even feeling a tingle of magic. In fact, he didn't spot anything until taking a few hesitant steps away from the forest in hopes of seeing a village over the next hill. Harry didn't get far enough to determine the existence of such a village, for a rough hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck and lifted him in the air. The grip was painful, and Harry only refrained from yelling bloody murder because his shields didn't activate, meaning the pain wasn't being inflicted on purpose.

''What do we have here? Who is snooping at the edge of our territory?'' a high voice asked. ''Little wizards shouldn't wander…''

''Amber!'' a second person hissed with a hint of panic. ''What do you think you're doing? If he's from the Ministry-''

''I don't care about the Ministry's petty rules!" the first one snarled, grip tightening further.

''You should!'' the other argued back. ''Do you want to compromise us all?''

''I compromise us? What do you think the Ministry will say about the current company-''

The panic was far more audible now, voice shooting upwards when the other retorted: ''Shut up!''

Not wishing to dangle in the air like a caught rabbit much longer as his ambushers bickered back and forth, Harry drew his wand and forcefully stabbed it across his shoulder in hopes of hitting anything. One loud yelp later, he'd landed on his feet and faced 'Amber', who was cussing loudly and pressing a hand against her throat. At the same moment, he spotted a familiar shadow that extricated itself from the line of trees. Voldemort came marching over, not looking too pleased at seeing Harry being manhandled. There was a shimmer of orange light around the man that told Harry why he couldn't feel anything: his partner was actively suppressing his power to not alert any unwelcome attention.

Neither of the two women appeared to have noticed Voldemort's approach, as the second one nervously addressed Harry: ''I'm terribly sorry for that, Sir. Are you here on an inspection or… or were there complaints?'' As she spoke, though, her eyes hushed over his face. He saw the realisation hit her before she even stopped speaking. ''You are…''

''Begone,'' Voldemort commanded, causing the jumpy woman to release a shocked cry. Amber just hissed and threw Harry a foul look while still rubbing the sore spot where the tip of his wand had hit sensitive skin. She could be lucky it hadn't been an eye, so he didn't feel bad at all, throwing her an equally dirty look while pointedly rubbing the back of his neck. Quicker than he'd have thought possible, they disappeared into the woods.

''They're werewolves,'' he concluded, throwing his partner a questioning look.

''Why the surprise? This was your idea. I thought we both agreed on this being the best course of action.''

They had indeed, as Harry much preferred it over killing her in any way – either permanently or with complications. That wasn't why he was surprised to find himself surrounded by werewolves though. Raising his eyebrows, Harry reminded: ''You did say you were leaving to make arrangements for Umbridge, but full moon is only next week, that's why.'' Sirius had mentioned earlier about being glad he still had a whole week to decide what to do about the monthly 'sleepovers' with Moony, since he hadn't made up his mind about pretending to stay in the Order or leaving it all behind. Snape's words of today rang in his head. If the Headmaster would figure out that Harry had switched sides, it might be dangerous for his godfather to stay, considering the rather open support he'd given Harry in the past years.

''Was your suggestion to drop Umbridge off at a pack of rabid wolves an hour before their transformation? This needs planning. Cooperation. Spreading lycanthropy is an extremely sensitive topic, especially among werewolves themselves. Even most of those liberal enough to spread their curse on purpose would be offended at the thought of it being used as a punishment. I came here to propose our plan to Greyback.''

''Greyback?'' Harry asked. The name didn't sound familiar.

With a careful wave, Voldemort subtly erected a silencing barrier to speak freely. It was a telling sign that piqued Harry's interest immediately. ''A leader in his community, one of the very few werewolves I know who does share the desire to turn particularly those who have expressed dislike against their kind. Although he prefers to punish adults by turning their children instead and raises them to hate 'regular' mages with the ultimate goal of overthrowing the Ministry and creating as many werewolves as possible… He is a difficult person to work with as our views oftentimes clash.''

''I can see that,'' Harry agreed. Since most werewolves counted as both mages and dark creatures, they surely fell under Voldemort's jurisdiction. However, it wouldn't be very favourable if all witches and wizards were to contract lycanthropy. Working with someone who infected kids to turn them against their parents and other non-werewolf mages would require a lot of compromise. Personally, Harry wasn't sure why Voldemort sounded so calm about it. What Greyback did sounded pretty terrible.

Then again, Voldemort planned to kidnap muggle-borns at a young age too which was equally terrible. Maybe there wasn't more to it than being able to justify methods like that. The difference was that the Dark Lord hadn't had the opportunity to put this plan into action so far, and if Harry would have any say in it, it would never come to pass. Whereas it sounded as if this Greyback had already committed such deeds for a while. Then, an awful thought dawned on him. ''What is your common ground exactly…? What promises did you make that allows you to cooperate with him?''

A knot of dread tightened in Harry's chest as Voldemort plainly stated: ''Our population currently increases in part due to mating with Muggles. The chances of a Muggle and a mage having a magical child is significantly larger than the creation of a Muggle-born. Even though we suffer no major ill effects from inbreeding, not everyone is willing to raise a large family – if at all - so cutting ourselves off from the Muggle world could severely diminish the growth of our population. There are several ways to counter this: Greyback was the one to make me attentive to the fact that turning a Muggle gives them access to passive magic on a similar level as a Squib. Heavy magic by nature as werewolves sacrifice their own sanity for power each month. Of course, it would be a program that would need to be regulated and studied before we can conclude whether Muggles turned werewolves have an increased chance of having magical offspring, but it is worth investigating. Don't look at me like that, Evan. No-one would force them to breed if they wouldn't want children. Now come, we have dallied for too long.'' With a decisive step, the older wizard strode forwards and broke the silencing barrier.

Harry trailed after him, into the forest, none too happy about the direction Voldemort's negotiations with the werewolves was taking. Recalling their agreement about disagreements, he switched to Parseltongue to continue what could well turn into a heated argument, well aware of the heightened hearing of werewolves. ~Nonetheless, you'd force them to become werewolves in the first place. And since Muggles have a much higher chance of dying from those bites, you'd be giving werewolves a free pass to go rampage and murder Muggles. This was not what we discussed when talking about separating our worlds. Wasn't the point of living permanently in a bubble dimension to have nothing more to do with Muggles and thus not fear risking discovery? Why would werewolf packs hunting in the Muggle world be any different?~ he pressed urgently, miffed that he hadn't known about this. Now he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore, the first thing that Harry planned on doing was getting up to speed on all of Voldemort's schemes. He'd been out of the loop for too long about too much.

His irritation abated somewhat when Voldemort had mercy with Harry's poor night-vision and cast a Lumos to light the way, as the teen had been struggling not to trip over tree roots. How much further would they need to walk? How large was werewolf territory?

~Should they hunt mages instead?~ his partner asked sternly. ~Muggles cannot detect the difference between the attack of a wolf and a werewolf. The only necessary adaptation to cover their tracks would be to start hunting in areas that still have true wolves. Finding mangled corpses is not the same as Muggles witnessing levitation or a dragon flying over. Naturally, I am open to your suggestions. On a sidenote, you do realise the hypocrisy in condemning my plan to turning unwilling Muggles, considering we're here to do the same to your enemy?~

~Yes,~ Harry crabbily hissed. ~I'm aware. As for alternatives, werewolves can survive perfectly well without hunting or turning anyone. They're only wolves for a single night each month. Professor Lupin also doesn't chew on humans a dozen times a year. When it comes to repopulating, that is mostly a matter of culture, isn't it? I saw the Black family tree: a few generations back it wasn't uncommon to have four or five kids. Muggles even effectively used religion as a way to ensure people had families of over ten children not too long ago. Can't you do the same?~

~Greyback won't be too happy if I go back on my word,~

~So you admit I have a point. Make him a new deal, you're convincing enough in literally anything else. I'm sure you can adapt.~

~I'd be flattered by your faith in my negotiating skills if not for the small fact that you use it to make my life difficult.~

~Oh, I'm so sorry that my wish to not cause unnecessary slaughter - or the possibility of Muggles discovering magic when seeing a human transform into a wolf and risking everything we wish to achieve – causes you some political trouble with someone who likes infecting kids.~

Voldemort released a long, suffering hiss. Harry was sure that his concerns would be waved away, when:

~Yes, yes, you made your point. Now cease, I'll have to rearrange my arguments if I wish to keep my allies.~

Nearby, someone loudly cleared their throat. Harry startled and backed away from the source of the noise, stumbled over a loose branch and was left blinking owlishly at a huge man with strangely fur-like hair covering his face in places it normally shouldn't. It couldn't be accredited to him being a werewolf, Harry thought, as neither Lupin nor the women he'd seen earlier sported hair on their foreheads or bridge of their noses. Was it some other anomaly?

The man smirked, showing sharp, yellow teeth that blinked in the light. During their discussion, Harry hadn't realised that the source of it was no longer the tip of Voldemort's wand, but rather the more natural light of torches or campfires somewhere past the next few lines of trees. ''My my, Harry Potter… What a delight!''

''Err… Do we know each other?'' he asked while attempting to get back to his feet without looking like he was scrambling.

The werewolf followed Harry's movement with a little too much interest, and Harry felt very much like he was being sized up for dinner. ''Not personally yet. Of course, many interesting rumours about you have made their way to my sharp ears over the years. Especially this year. A few wolves told me of a blood debt. Paid by a Vampire no less. Intriguing stuff.''

Harry coughed to hide his expression of dread and hoped that Voldemort wouldn't ask for details. His partner merely raised a thin eyebrow and spoke: ''He always manages to get into the most impossible situations. Having one's family killed as part of an unknown vow is right up his alley.'' The only answer to Harry's gobsmacked expression was a secretive smirk. ''I assume it's no trouble that I brought him along, Greyback?''

Ah... So this was the werewolf leader he'd just been told about. Admittedly, it was unexpected that the first words exchanged with someone who in Harry's eyes had basically been described as a spiteful man who wished to raise an army of werewolves to topple the established rule of mages had been 'What a delight'.

''It would have been polite to give a heads-up, considering we've been talking for several hours already.'' Greyback said, then ducked his head as if realising he'd forgotten whom he was speaking to. ''But of course, it's no trouble. Even if he hadn't helped pave the way for justice, I could never deny someone as powerful as you, my Lord, to bring your mate.'' He threw Harry a wide grin . ''Even if it's a mighty shame that it likely makes him untouchable.''

''I'd like to know the source that is spreading these rumours,'' Voldemort frostily spoke, having stiffened at the words.

Greyback merely laughed and made a slight bow as if to show his deference despite the words. ''No rumours this time, only an excellent sense of smell. As you know, I have honed my senses over the years, beyond any other wolf.''

Senses or not, Harry wondered what exactly Greyback had picked up. Voldemort hadn't allowed more than hugs and a couple of kisses, which was only marginally more physical contact than with his bear-hugging godfather, with whom he'd spent most of the past few hours while waiting to be called.

His partner showed more interesting for a different detail. ''I heard. It makes me wonder how far you could take this… how much your physique could be altered without the full moon if you keep training. And specifically, what would happen to the curse.''

Greyback made a low growling sound, as if displeased. ''We prefer the term 'venom'.''

''It isn't,'' Voldemort 'tactfully' pointed out. ''Lycanthropy is a living, multiplying piece of dark magic that most certainly falls in the territory of curses: a spell which disrupts normal physical or mental functions in a way that is harmful to either the caster or to others. In this case, both.''

Before his partner would go into even more detail to lecture an actual werewolf on how to regard werewolfry, Harry gave his two Knuts: ''Many classifications are just made up by the Ministry though, I find venom to be a perfectly acceptable term. It makes it sound less of a problem and more of a power.''

''You get it,'' Greyback agreed, puffing up his chest. Voldemort only said something in Parseltongue that was so inaudible that Harry couldn't make out the words.

At long last, the forest made way for a clearing, at the edge of which stood a ring of makeshift huts in and around which various game hung to dry on racks. It felt like being transported back in time – millennia back to when people were hunters, surviving day to day. Did they live here permanently? It didn't seem likely, as werewolves were only actual wolves a single night a month, but Harry held back from asking a waterfall of questions as he didn't wish to garner more attention. As it was, they already had a dozen gazes on them from all sides. A disturbing amount of those were from children – younger than Harry had been when being introduced to the wizarding world. They pointed and whispered, growled and hid as soon as he tried to meet their eyes.

Clearly, Harry was the novelty here right now. Voldemort was certainly more imposing and strange, but he'd already been here for hours, as also became apparent when they entered Greyback's hut – larger than the rest but no mansion for sure - and what looked like the remainders of a banquet were lying on a large table: stacks of small bones of fish and fowl that had already become a feast for the critters of the forest.

''I've done some thinking during the break we took,'' Greyback started as soon as they'd sat down on rough wooden stools, nonchalantly picking at his teeth with small stick and flicking a fly away.

''So have I.''

The wolf grunted and seemed to weigh his options. Voldemort's tone had been demanding attention as usual. Typically, Harry would attempt to curb his partner's narcissistic behaviour, but he was well aware of being a mere guest, invited to witness negotiations he was not to partake in. Besides, it wasn't exactly clear where Greyback stood on the border between ally and follower. Going against Barty's power plays in front of the Malfoys was on a whole different level than undermining the authority Voldemort had over his supporters, and even that had not gone over well. Thus, the teen sucked it up and observed, hoping that at least some of his previous words had actually reached the man.

''My Lord,'' Greyback finally conceded, with a hint of a scowl.

Voldemort procured his yew wand from within the fold of his robes and held it loosely in his hands, a movement that was followed with suspicion. ''I realised that I have regarded your… power, in the wrong light. We have overlapping intentions, though I saw it as a tool, a weapon, when it is far more akin to a wand. Like any magic, it is a gift, to be wielded with pride and given to the right people.''

Harry's own sceptical expression was reflected by Greyback. ''Does this mean the plan with that Ministry bint is off?'' the werewolf asked.

''Some gifts are only appreciated after they're given,'' the other replied with a sharp smirk that made Harry's heart skip a beat. ''For Dolores Umbridge, becoming a werewolf will offer a chance to repent, to start a journey of self-reflection, sins washed away with a new start – as much as she'll detest it at first. Greyback, we both attempt to protect our people and bolster their numbers. The problem with lycanthropy is the stigma around it more than the power itself. I have a proposal that you might wish to take into consideration: becoming a werewolf could be an offer that many would gratefully accept if it would allow them to stay a part of their own family when they'd otherwise need to let go. I am of course talking about the relatives of Muggle-borns.''

A stunned silence filled the room while both Greyback and Harry processed what had been said. In a twisted way, the teen could see why Voldemort saw this as a perfect solution. It would increase the magical population, shift the balance more to favour dark magic and would no longer have backlash about separating children from their parents if those were given the chance to become a part of their society instead by accepting magic. It would target exactly those Muggles who had already come into contact with magic and might betray the existence of it… when taken in, they'd no longer pose a danger and would not need to be kept track of to ensure memory-altering charms were properly cast. For Greyback it would surely be a tempting offer as well, as it would allow him to officially create more werewolves, in a way that would show it in the positive light of an opportunity instead of a curse. Mages didn't wish to deal with all the problems that came with becoming a werewolf. But for Muggles, it could be marketed as a perfect opportunity.

There was, of course, one caveat that both men either forgot or didn't care about:

''How high is the chance of surviving a werewolf bite again for Muggles?'' he sharply asked. In third year, Snape had absolutely loved droning on and on about the danger of these beings. Mages usually survived, but unsuspecting Muggles that got bitten had no such luck. ''I recall something about three to five percent being an accurate estimate. Who'd take that chance? Or would you conveniently leave that information out and cover up the body count?''

''There are always risks involved,'' his partner attempted to wave away. Before Harry could become even more insistent though, Greyback let out a barking laugh that reminded very much of Sirius.

''Do you know the process of becoming a werewolf?'' he asked with amusement, addressing Harry.

As Snape had really been very thorough in his gruesome descriptions, Harry shifted in his seat and confidently said: ''Well yeah. Any venom leaking into an open wound – usually created by the werewolf bite itself, will start mutating the body. From that point onwards, there's a multitude of ways to die. The most frequent is lunacy – the venom instantly starts festering and reaches the brain, driving someone insane. The second is blood boiling, where the rest of the body cannot keep up with the sudden rise in blood temperature that happens during a werewolf transformation. The third and rarest is that during the first full transformation, bones shift in the wrong direction, piercing lungs and other organs.''

''How high is the percentage of mages dying from a werewolf bite?'' the wolf asked in that same tone as before – as if highly entertained.

''About ten percent,'' he muttered in answer, quickly looking at Voldemort for confirmation. ''Because we have magic that counters such extreme reactions.''

''The folly of mages,'' Greyback snorted, ''Not meant as an insult, my Lord, naturally. You left out a small, excruciatingly important detail, Potter. Up until about eight-hundred years ago, werewolf bites were almost always lethal. Chance of survival for both mages and Muggles was indeed only about three to five percent. The turning point was the discovery of dittany. Right now, werewolf bites are 'healed' with a mixture of powdered silver and dittany, which has to be applied to a fresh bite. It seals the wound and allow the bitten one to live on as a werewolf. Simply, really. Dittany also happens to not be available to Muggles, nor is powdered silver easy to come by there. Much less is this cure known as they don't realise our kind truly exists until it's too late. The mages that still die from our bites are the ones who prefer death over this existence, or who were so down on their luck that they couldn't afford these ingredients.''

While Harry let that sink in, Voldemort already was prepared with questions: ''If that is the case, Greyback, why do so many die still? Your aim is to reproduce, you could easily give your victims this cure.''

The other bristled, likely due to the use of the term 'victims', then said: ''Neither dittany nor silver is sold to werewolves as per Ministry regulations, to stop us from spreading it,'' the wolf answered with a frown. ''Besides, both are pricey and although my pack consists of over twenty wolves, exactly three have an actual job that brings in money. Money that is divided among us all to get necessities we cannot hunt for and legal fees to keep this land. During the war, a few newly-turned wolves were able to keep themselves off the registry, which made us able to get our hands on some of the stuff, but those times are long over.''

''I recall that you were among those unregistered wolves until your first capture.''

''First capture?'' Harry inquired, unable to stop his curiosity.

The werewolf shrugged. ''Killed some Muggles and was captured, but I played the Ministry for a fool and they actually let me off the hook. As there was one wizard who wasn't convinced, I decided it best to flee and wait for revenge instead of being lured into a trap the next day - which was a full moon. Got his kid in the end, an unwilling little cub who still has problems recognising my authority,'' he grinned as if finding that hilarious. ''Returned a few months ago but the little shite is still a pain. I sent 'im out hunting to let off some steam. Anyways, been on the run since then, or so the Werewolf capture unit thinks. They've no idea I'm hiding in the middle of a colony with registered werewolves who were granted permission to live here in order to keep us away from 'civilised folks'. They can only legally capture the ones of us that proves 'dangerous', so they needed a place to stow away the rest that is guilty until proven guilty enough to imprison.''

The ones like Greyback himself, Harry figured, who'd just so casually spoken of killing Muggles. He didn't have context, the teen reminded himself. Werewolves lost their mind every full moon and if not properly contained would attack any human in sight. Had this murder been in the heat of madness too? If so, why mention it so casually? Plus, there was the entire revenge-ploy that involved taking some poor kid who apparently still struggled. As easy-going as Greyback appeared, Harry didn't feel secure around him. He made it seem like everyone here held no blame – which was only partially true as Greyback himself apparently wanted to hunt and infect more people instead of being locked in. He felt it was selfish: endangering others to run free. Harry himself had survived years and years living in a cupboard to not be a slight inconvenience, surely one could manage to stay in a safe room when there was actual danger.

Though it was all a matter of perspective. Greyback did appear to think along the lines of what Voldemort had played into before: this power being a gift that those who were turned should be grateful for. It was a tricky situation as Harry didn't know enough to have an informed opinion. Back when meeting Lupin, he figured it was just a once-a-month fluffy problem. All the true hardships came from outside factors: being denied work, denied housing, denied human contact out of a stigmatised fear. All those were societal problems and did not stem from the actual core of the matter that was being a werewolf. It was no wonder that people shunned for transforming against their will into a dangerous animal would come to resent the society that barely tolerated their existence. Turned criminal even.

It was a descending spiral that could only be broken with outside help. And even that had limits: Dumbledore was one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the country and he hadn't been able to withstand the demand for firing Lupin when it became publicly known that a werewolf was teaching at Hogwarts. Well, technically Lupin had resigned, but they'd all known that it was to save face for all of them. Since none of the actual information about that one scary evening had leaked out, his favourite Defence teacher (sorry Barty) had left the castle purely due to facing discrimination.

''Do you find my suggestion acceptable?'' Voldemort asked the werewolf, leaning forward.

Greyback flinched under the Dark Lord's gaze and gave a curt nod. ''In addition to our other terms,'' he was quick to say. ''The ones discussed before.''

''Agreed.''

Harry was burning with the need to ask which other conditions had been discussed, but the two men were already getting up and heading outside. He'd have to question his partner about it later, see if there was anything wholly inacceptable among the agreement they'd made.

''Hear!'' Greyback yelled when they stood in front of the campfire in the middle of the clearing. The light was unnaturally reflected in a dozen eyes all around. The werewolf raised his impressively bulky arms as if he wished to hug the flames. ''Today is a time of celebration! We have once more gained an ally in our fight for freedom!'' he roared, sounding elated. ''The Dark Lord will help us achieve greater strength, greater numbers,'' he promised the onlookers. A few bold werewolves who were clearly more familiar with Greyback came closer and started cheering, while a couple sulked near their huts instead. Their leader didn't appear to care, circling victoriously around the fire and releasing a set of howls until the majority joined in. Harry stuck close to Voldemort, who watched the happenings stoically, as if the display was beneath his worth and he simply waited until formalities were done with so they could leave. Greyback wasn't quite finished with his speech though.

''To prove his words, we'll be given a chance up front to show that our way is the best way!'' He bellowed, hitting his own chest. ''Our family!'' the werewolf snarled through yellowed teeth. ''Will wax with the next moon!''

More enthusiastic shouts now filled the air. The youngest were the loudest, Harry noted, desperate to prove themselves to the only family they knew now. For the first time, he second-guessed the idea of punishing Umbridge in this way. Not because of her, she deserved all of it, but because he hadn't grasped the complexities of what being a werewolf meant. Because these kids would now not only be saddled with the one who'd purposefully ripped them away from the life they'd known just to punish their relatives, but also with a witch who hated everything they were. She'd hate herself too, yes, but would that prevent Umbridge from lashing out? Worst of all, they'd think that one person more thought the lives they led was a punishment – no matter Harry's intentions. If he could have turned her into a centaur or merfolk, he'd have considered it just the same, but there was no room for unwanted justifications from his side.

Abruptly, his partner moved forwards, to join Greyback's side. ''The one who'll join you is someone who has hurt many beasts and beings in a multitude of ways,'' he spoke. ''Becoming one of you should instil a sense of understanding while taking away a major threat. I ask you to be patient and treat her no different than the rest to avoid making matters more complicated. Whoever you were before becoming a wolf no longer matters, whether light or dark or even without. The world shall see that as soon as I no longer have to walk among shadows. Your potential is unparalleled, and I am ecstatic to share a new future, one where wolf and warlock may tread the same path in equal measure.''

The feeling he'd had during their last dream increased tenfold as Harry watched his partner. Voldemort belonged here, thrived in the received admiration. All the words Harry had thought yet couldn't find a way to express without sounding pathetically excusing had rolled off Voldemort's tongue as if it was nothing. Harry could practically feel the atmosphere shift from trepidation to acceptance. When listening, one wanted to believe, was convinced that this man's opinion was the only one that mattered. Enough to make even Harry almost forget that Voldemort had shown openly on more than one occasion that he didn't actually give a damn about anyone beyond what they could do for his goals.

Perhaps, he speculated, that was one of the reasons Magic had chosen Voldemort as her Lord. Focused on the task at hand, he would go to any length to fulfil this purpose, without getting too distracted by personal matters. He'd shoved his overwhelming loathing for Muggles to the side-lines as soon as it became clear that waging a war against them would be fruitless. He'd been willing to cooperate with his personal enemy, Albus Dumbledore, so the smear campaign against the Ministry would be more effective, as they were the ones who ultimately halted progress. And now, Voldemort had rearranged part of his own plans in a heartbeat to find a compromise that worked better for both negotiating parties. Was Harry happy about the idea of turning parents of Muggleborns into werewolves? Not exactly… but it was a step up from both kidnapping the kids and letting werewolves run loose in the Muggle world to satisfy their thirst for blood.

All reservations about the exact promises aside, Harry was… impressed. He couldn't watch this unfold without feeling that way: seeing Voldemort mingle with a pack of werewolves who suddenly looked to him like he was their one and only saviour.

For the second time today, Harry was grabbed from behind and dragged away, though this time a hand pressed over his mouth, prevented him from crying out. Barty would absolutely chew him out about lacking perception and reflexes if he were to survive this evening, he thought when roughly flung against a nearby tree. Again, his shield did nothing despite the ache in his back. Not knowing one's strength was possibly just a werewolf thing.

The person in front of him blocked the light of the fire, so Harry couldn't make out much. He figured that also wasn't necessary and drew his wand again for another round of blind stabbing – blasted Trace – when the tip of another was pressed against the hollow of his throat.

''What shape does your Patronus take?''

Harry wasn't sure what took longer to process: the realisation that he knew this hoarse voice or the question itself.

''A- a stag,'' he stuttered truthfully. '''Cause of Prongs.''

The wand disappeared and Lupin backed off, light now shining over his shoulder, allowing Harry to see the haggard look on his former professor's face. ''Harry… It is you. I thought- I suspected he'd brought an impostor. Merlin… Why aren't you at school? Is this some sort of mission?'' he asked in a hushed whisper. ''Did Albus ask you to do something this reckless?''

Another lie was at the tip of his tongue far too fast yet died there. There had been too many already. Too many omissions and dishonesty that he was so sick of.

''I came here because Voldemort asked me to,'' he answered, pushing himself off the tree trunk. ''I pissed off the Ministry yesterday and am on the run, so I have now a lot more time on my hands to be involved in his work.''

Lupin stared. ''You ran away from school to hide from the Ministry… and instead went to him?'' he asked, disturbed. ''Do you think you aren't welcome in the Order? Sirius would have taken you in in a heartbeat, the house is unplottable!''

''I know,'' Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. ''That isn't why. On a sidenote – do I smell weird?'' he asked, thinking about Greyback's comment and worried that Lupin might instantly pick up on the same in case he'd smell the both of them at the same time.

''… No?'' the man answered. ''Is there any specific reason you ask?''

''Something Greyback said, that's all,'' he shrugged.

''You spoke to that… that…'' Lupin choked out with a surprising amount of explicit disgust.

Harry raised an eyebrow. ''I figure you are probably here on a mission and aren't too fond of other werewolves, but I didn't know you were on a bad foot with Greyback specifically.''

''That doesn't even begin to cover it,'' the older man answered quietly, looking pained. ''Not that you should be bothered with it. Harry, you have to leave. Go to Sirius. I don't know how you came into contact with him, but whatever Voldemort has promised you, it isn't worth it. I'll come over and then we'll talk, alright?'' Lupin sounded so genuinely worried that Harry wondered how often he'd been involved in Order meetings recently. Had Dumbledore also told him that bogus of Harry being possessed? Had he known that all members had been ordered to watch him? That Sirius had been asked to keep an eye on Harry? Or had he been here all this time instead, attempting to fit in with dark creatures while constantly in denial over being one himself?

A hint of orange light was all the warning he got before Voldemort stepped around a nearby tree and spoke: ''There you are. You shouldn't go wandering off, there are big bad wolves in forests, didn't you know?''

''Because big bad snakes are so much better,'' he retorted. In front of him, Lupin tensed up, breath growing shallow with fear.

''Why yes, they most certainly are. For one, you can talk to them even on the full moon. Who is your new friend, Evan? Turn around,'' he commanded, voice laced with magic. To his credit, Lupin resisted, hands balled into fists.

Nonetheless, Voldemort appeared to have noticed something. ''Ah, the problem child-'' he whispered with a hint of irony. ''Remus Lupin.''

Now Remus did turn, wand in hand and pointing it straight at Voldemort's heart while bravely wedging himself between Harry and the perceived threat. The gesture felt familiar. Right, that had been the very first reaction Sirius had had too. How similar they truly were. As expected, Voldemort didn't look the least bit impressed and continued addressing Harry.

''You're going to miss the spectacle at this rate. You already so rudely slipped away and avoided the formalities of this alliance being established.''

''I was at the talks, wasn't I?'' he grimly spoke over Lupin's shoulder, keeping an eye on the outstretched wand.

''Yes, but now I was the only one who had to suffer through chewing down raw meat.''

Harry wrinkled his nose. ''Lovely. What, and it would have made you feel better if I'd been forced to do the same?''

''Considering how much trouble it gave me that you are somewhat of a morally upstanding citizen and made me lose valuable ground in this negotiation, it would have been fair to at least be there.''

Harry narrowed his eyes at his partner, feeling as if he should pick up on something else. He dearly missed the ability to automatically understand by analysing Voldemort's emotions, but that didn't mean they didn't know each other well enough. The way his scowl had deepened, the edge to his voice…

''Are you seriously annoyed that you weren't the centre of my attention for three minutes?'' he blurted out incredulously.

''That's not-''

''That's exactly it!'' he pointed out, biting his lip to stop a wide grin from being plastered all over his face. Lupin shuffled a bit, clearly deeply unsettled about the conversation that was taking place while he was standing in between them. ''That's just…'' his teeth shifted to bite his tongue before he would be beheaded for saying something he'd regret, like 'adorable', even if he really, really wanted to. ''I didn't leave by choice,'' he said in the hope of sounding remorseful enough. ''If I'd have known that it meant so much to you, I would have returned the instant I wasn't pressed against a tree anymore.

''What's this with being pressed against trees?'' the Dark Lord snarled. Okay, bad choice of words.

''Can you two stop pretending I'm air?'' Lupin suddenly yelled in frustrated confusion, whipping down his wand.

''As soon as you stop pretending to be threatening,'' the Dark Lord scoffed. ''Get out of the way, Lupin.'' With alert eyes on an otherwise weary face, the man did as asked, gauging the situation much quicker than Sirius had done even without having a pre-warning about Harry's political views. He took a step to the side and waited, watching. ''Perfect,'' Voldemort drawled. ''Evan, we'll have to talk about your uncanny ability to summon people to your side who attempt to shield you from me.''

''Right, because it's absolutely my fault that everyone thinks you're out for my blood.''

''I do not appreciate it when you have a point,'' Voldemort blankly stated. ''You made one too many today, I'm revoking your ability to have your sense influence me for the remainder of the evening.''

The urge to roll his eyes finally became too great to resist. 'See, that might become a problem, since…'' he casually pointed at Lupin. ''We do need to figure some things out together.''

For someone as paranoid as his partner, the older wizard was shockingly nonchalant about the fact that a member of the Order of the Phoenix had seen them openly interact. Order mission or not, Lupin wasn't stuck here, he knew as much because the nights of transformation were still spent with Sirius instead of this pack. The man was a highly accomplished wizard and knew how to apparate perfectly. Hell, Lupin could jump to Grimmauld, inform everyone there of Voldemort's location and attack within minutes the moment they took their eyes off him.

Voldemort sounded genuinely surprised when asking: ''I thought you'd add him to your collection of strays?''

''Pardon?'' Lupin sharply asked. Voldemort ignored him further.

''Other than you, I don't collect people,'' Harry scowled.

''The full rooms in my house beg to differ.''

''That was an emergency situation!''

''Your life is a string of emergency situations, need I remind you of Yule, darling?''

Harry sucked in a breath at the endearment, suddenly even more highly aware of how prickly this situation truly was. Had his partner realised what he'd said? Voldemort always attempted to consider his words before speaking unless he was angry, which he wasn't, so had this been on purpose? He side-eyed Lupin, who was still as a statue, hazel eyes widened marginally. At the same time, Harry's brain decided that this was a great time to remind him that they were only a couple of yards away from the encampment and hadn't been talking very quietly. Anyone standing at the edge might have heard their entire conversation.

''Voldemort-'' Harry warned, growing serious. ~What are you trying to accomplish?~

The man looked away briefly, and when their eyes met, they were steely. ~I am attempting to involve you in my life, in the important aspects of my life, without needing to feel ashamed of it at every turn, but every time we meet someone important to you, every damned person of your previous life, they are disgusted.~

~Look, I know that Sirius gave you grief, but he would have been overprotective regardless of whom I'd have gotten involved with,~ he attempted to defend. It didn't appease Voldemort, who stepped closer and grabbed Harry's shoulder, fingers digging into his robes as if it was the only thing to keep him grounded.

~But it's not only Black, is it? Your Muggle-born figured it out last evening and she wasted no time in telling me I don't deserve you.~ The words came out spitting, spiteful, and the trembling he felt was more from fury than anything else, and yet…

''Let me feel,'' he whispered, suddenly unconcerned about anything else than the knowledge that someone as strong as the man he loved was hurting and likely didn't even understand it. ''Please. I want to help.'' Carefully, he placed a hand atop the one on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. ''Please.''

The shields that kept Voldemort's magic at bay – and with it, blocked Harry's ability to truly connect, cracked. The teen inhaled deeply and closed his eyes when confronted with all the pent-up rage and deeply buried aching. He tried to calm his partner by staying positive, but the emotions battered onto him until it left Harry exhausted. ~You know their words won't change my mind,~ he soothed.

~Of course they won't,~ the other muttered back, some of the anger finally quieting down. ~I know that. That does not change my wish to rip out their lying tongues.~

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. ~Okay… As per our agreements, I have to point out once again that that is not a healthy coping mechanism. I'll… I'll talk with Hermione, okay?~ he offered. He wondered how she'd figured it out, but in all honesty wasn't shocked that she had. The way she'd observed his and Voldemort's interactions, how snappy she'd been about secrets… Nonetheless, deep down he still hoped she'd understand. ~Sirius also came around and accepts our relationship somewhat. And the Malfoys are even thrilled about the idea!~ he continued.

~They're at the other end of the annoying spectrum regarding us,~ Voldemort sighed. The flood of emotions stopped, leaving only Harry's own feeling of loss. ~I lost control,~ he admitted, pensively looking at something behind Harry. When gazing over his own shoulder, he saw that the tree behind him had cuts in the bark all over from the violent magic that had lashed out. ~When returning home, I'll need a repetition of your… emotional analysation. All of this is getting stronger by the day and while I know perfect control is unlikely, a deeper insight is crucial. But we diverted from our previous topic. You do very well collect people, on purpose or not.~ He straightened and at last turned a cool gaze on Professor Lupin again, who'd taken a few steps back and cast a shield charm over his entire body. The man was still watching with an impressive amount of patience. ~We have few options regarding Lupin: we either alter his memory or get him over to our side. While I'd usually favour the former, in this instance I could see the advantage of having another member of the Order of the Phoenix in our ranks. Black's position has been compromised due to his close proximity with you. As Lupin is a dark creature and I am thus invested in protecting his life rather than snuffing it out, I'd much prefer him finally joining the place he belongs fully, and not only as pretend under the orders of someone like Dumbledore.~

~I'm not sure he'll be easy to convince.~

~Not by us.~ Voldemort curtly replied, then addressed Lupin: ''Even as a member of Albus Dumbledore's rebellious little group, you have no idea what truly went on behind the scenes, Lupin. I can sense that you wish to run to my enemy and tell them all about this encounter in detail, so before you do so, I wish to inform you that your closest friend, Sirius Black, is currently residing in my house out of his own free will.''

Now it was Lupin's turn to pretend Voldemort didn't exist, as he mechanically turned to Harry and asked with a voice that was very carefully restrained with only the slightest tremor: ''Tell me three absolute truths that I have to know about. Three things that could convince me that Sirius of all people joined the murderer of our best friends.''

It was a reasonable request, one far easier than Ron and Hermione's demands to know everything they'd missed all at once. Trying not to get too hopeful yet, Harry attempted to summarise what would be the most important points for Lupin, remembering Sirius' advice: ''Dumbledore needs me dead to fulfil his own goals, Voldemort has guaranteed my absolute safety almost two years ago and my parents admitted they'd picked the wrong side.''

If any of that information was shocking, Lupin didn't show it, pensively nodding. It starkly reminded Harry of all the afternoon teas they'd spent in the man's office. How odd that they'd grown apart so fast again. They'd mostly talked about Defence, but still… It made him yearn to re-connect with the kind, complicated man he'd come to know back then. The one who'd put everything on the line just to teach, who'd done his best to protect an entire school full of children from a serial killer and who'd been prepared to kill one of his former best friends in the end. Maybe there was a hint of truth to Voldemort's exasperated declaration about Harry's habit of gathering people around him. If he could, he'd move in the entire D.A. and reveal everything to them. Hermione would probably say it was his saving-people thing. If she would speak to him anytime soon. The few hours between returning from Hogwarts and joining Voldemort here, had been spent mostly with Sirius while his two friends kept to themselves.

To be fair, Ron still wasn't allowed out of bed until Snape had had a look at him, which could still take a while. Voldemort hadn't budged when Harry had suggested finding a different healer shortly before his partner had left, saying he'd checked on Ron and made another attempt of re-stabilising him which 'should be enough until Severus arrives'. Considering Snape had been willing to kill him, Voldemort sure put an awful lot of trust in the surly potion master.

''I'll need some time to think,'' Lupin at last answered. ''Of course, I'll need to speak to Sirius before accepting any of this, but I won't inform anyone else until I have. Unless it's purposefully dragged out,'' he added with a frown.

''Excellent,'' Voldemort answered. ''The message will be passed along, I imagine Black will be thrilled to contact you soon. And now we've wasted enough time. Come, it might be almost over by now.'' Harry didn't protest this time when his partner showed another hint of intimacy by grabbing Harry's waist to guide him away. Lupin didn't join them, staring for a moment before slinking away between the trees in the opposite direction.

~Won't this start more rumours?~ he hesitantly asked, getting warm when Voldemort's steady hand purposefully slid lower to rest on his hip while they walked. ~I shouldn't have to remind you of what happened last time that we openly showed our relationship.~

While saying that, he looked around the clearing as soon as they left the line of trees and noticed there actually was no-one to witness them at the moment. The fire had died down to embers, the huts were empty. The other didn't appear to find this strange at all and kept talking while they left the shabby village behind, heading down a winding path on the other side that was lit with torches.

~Greyback is one of the worst gossipers I know. He won't say a word to outsiders, but the entire pack will know by tomorrow that we're involved. Erasing the memories of werewolves is more annoying than those of most other people, creature or not. Each time they transform and their mind goes haywire, there's a chance of breaking such a memory lock, another reason why I leaned towards having Lupin in the know. The best we can do is casting a secrecy spell so that none of this forests' residents can spread the word~

~And a secrecy spell just on Greyback…?~

~Would insult him to a point that it's not worth the cost. In either case, I doubt they'll have as much trouble with it as our previous audience. Werewolves are outcasts themselves, they don't care much for societal rules anymore, the exception being those more involved in the wizarding world. When Greyback revealed that he knew, I was… I think relief comes closest to describing it. Knowing that I can at last show you off.~

Harry smiled, flattered by his partner's intentions. He too hated the hiding. Escorting Voldemort to the Ostara Ball had been incredible until noticing they couldn't be as open as hoped. Under regular circumstances, it might have been different when returning to Riddle House, except now it was filled with people who either tolerated their relationship with a frown, didn't know about it or who apparently even got aggressive. If it would be different here… Harry might have a newfound fondness for werewolves on top of it all.

In the distance, voices could be heard, indistinguishable at first. As they walked on, they got louder and louder. He heard Greyback shouting something before seeing the werewolf. They rounded another corner and then:

''Guilty of all accusations!'' he triumphantly shouted, banging a stick on a wooden picknick table that looked about to collapse. Around the table stood a semi-circle of werewolves how cheered Greyback on, all eyes focused on a raging figure in the middle.

Umbridge, tied up and struggling while she yelled: ''This is not a recognised court! The Minister of Magic will personally banish all of you filthy dogs to the smallest cells of Azkaban where your kind of evil belongs!''

''Oh, time to warm up a cozy cell for yourself then,'' Greyback smirked. ''Ah, my Lord, exactly on time!'' he spoke, rising as he noticed the two of them approach. Umbridge twisted her short neck into a near impossible angle to see what was going on. It was more satisfying than Harry would like to admit, watching her eyes bulge when seeing him side by side with Lord Voldemort himself.

''Hi,'' he said, waving with his right hand. Then, he studied it for a second. ''You never did figure out what I was hiding about my hand, did you? Might as well clear up that little mystery now. It was kindly gifted to me by the centaurs after you purposefully botched up that healing charm and my first arm got damaged so much that it had to be amputated. You made me part beast.''

She had the audacity to laugh at that: an ugly wheezing thing. ''Serves you right,'' she gleefully spoke, still not realising what situation she was in. Whatever accusations had been spoken, she wasn't aware yet of the sentence. It didn't look like Greyback had taken Voldemort's advice very much to heart about treating her the same as the rest and giving a new beginning. Or did they hold trials for everyone to get rid of old crimes this way?

''I don't mind being part centaur,'' Harry said. ''I sincerely hope that you won't fight your new fate either. You made me a beast, I'll make you a being,'' he smiled, unable to hold back the glee that welled up now he faced her and she was at his mercy. ''You have about… one week left as a human, how does that sound?'' he asked.

She sputtered, looking confused. ''You cannot do that. You aren't allowed to do that.''

''Neither were you allowed to use blood quills on students.''

''I had every right!-''

Greyback hammered on the table surface again, which creaked dangerously. ''Alright, enough. Dolores Umbridge: you will be sentenced to live under the law you made. After the next full moon, you'll be part of my pack and that's that. You will be a good little witch and register to be fully impacted by the anti-werewolf-regulations currently in place.''

The sentence caused a few disagreeing murmurs, something about 'not good for the pack' and 'could have someone with an actual job'. Their leader would have none of it though, snarling until they fell silent. ''I have the right of justice here!'' he barked. ''She needs to learn, more than any of you had to. She can't learn while being in the cushy top of the Ministry, you braindead maggots. She'll register, I will hear no protest!''

''You cannot do this,'' the toad once again croaked in disbelief. ''Do you not know who I am? What I could do to you?''

''My right-hand man must have gone soft on the torture,'' Voldemort spoke, approaching her kneeling form. Instantly, she shut up, as if her lips had been vacuumed up from the inside. ''Ah, he did instil some specific fears, didn't he?'' the Dark Lord scoffed, dramatically raising a hand as if he was going to touch her face. All of Umbridge's pride crumbled with her in an instant, like a dry sandcastle that crumbled under its own weight. She was a trembling, sobbing mess by the time the tip of his fingers brushed the black satin bow on the crown of her head. ''Or are you afraid of reliving what I found inside your mind?'' Voldemort gleefully whispered. ''Won't you look me in the eyes, Dolores?'' She cried harder, shaking her head back and forth with such force that her neck might have snapped if it had been of a normal length. The wizard straightened again and looked down onto the mess of a human being without a shred of pity. Neither could Harry bring himself to feel any. ''Next week, you can start your life anew, with only a single reminder of whom you once were,'' Voldemort went on, plucking something out of the air. It was a black feather, a very familiar black feather. ''Detentions six days a week, estimating four to five hours, correct?'' he asked while pressing the blood quill in her hands. ''I must not tell lies. Until it sinks in. So you never forget why you needed a fresh start to begin with.''

Harry wasn't sure if Umbridge could even comprehend what was being said, but she did clutch the blood quill. Around her, the pack of wolves had grown restless since Greyback's verdict and one by one, they left in the darkness until only the leader and Umbridge remained. ''We'll keep her here. I'll make sure she follows your… additional instructions as long as she isn't a wolf yet,'' he assured. ''And in exchange…''

''I'll procure the ingredients for three more safe transformations,'' Voldemort promised. ''Use them well. Evan, come. It's time to go home.''

---

A large thank you to everyone who told me of their favourite fate for Umbridge! You guys seemed to be overwhelmingly in support of Harry's plan for karma :)
So, Umbridge is stuck with the werewolves now, Harry and co are officially out of Hogwarts... looks like the end of an arc to me, and the start of a new one.

I really hope you liked this chapter. I know there were a lot of POV changes, but I found it important to show all of this from different sides.

I sadly have to give the unfortunate news that I'll be taking a while off from writing. My hard drive that contained all my stories, including any files of this story, crashed. I found backups of some files from 6 months ago, but there's a lot missing regarding background info, my list of inconsistencies with things I need to fix, my list of sources for necromancy etc. Professionally recovering the data is more expensive than I can afford, so I'll have to recreate most of those files from scratch during new re-reads. I honestly cannot say this time how long it will take. I hope to be back on track somewhere within the next few months.

I hope every single one of you will have a good start into the new year!
Please leave a review to let me know your thoughts on the chapter :)