"Potter."

"Oh… hello."

"A word."

Harry barely had time to crawl out of the Transfiguration classroom and debate whether or not to go to breakfast before he was again face to face with Snape. Eyes traveled over him, taking in his messy hair, his wrinkled robes, like he knew he slept on the floor somewhere instead of the dormitory.

"Is it your plan to be a disaster this entire year?"

"I…"

"Unless you are using your homework as potion ingredients, you are not doing it. I asked for a roll of parchment on the unbreakable 80 and you turned in a paragraph. Perhaps you would like to... drop my class." Slits for eyes bore into him.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Snape's mouth morphed into a thin cold smile.

"Well, you don't want me around, do you?"

"I don't care if you're in my class or jump in the lake. I care that you are a poor excuse for a student and your laziness is infectious. Drop my class, or-"

"You're not getting rid of me!" Harry snapped. "I'm sorry that I'm a distraction. I'm sorry that I'm an inconvenience to you. A reminder. SO… are we going to talk about it?"

"There is nothing to talk about," Snape whispered this assurance, taking a sudden step closer. "You have the end of the week to turn in- Every. Missed. Assignment. I don't care if Granger writes it for you. On my desk by Friday. You received your free pass when the Minister of Magic offered you a job. BUT now you're here, and I don't play favorites."

"Except with Malfoy."

"OH NO you don't. His homework is graded even harsher, as I expect more from him. Expectations are even less for you, and you still manage to disappoint. Do better… or drop the class. Those are your only options, OR I go to McGonagall and have you removed." He whisked away, eyes lingering on him and his wrinkled clothing.

Despite the warning, Harry didn't turn in any homework at the end of the week. He tried to do it, he really tried, but not sleeping in the dormitory meant he was just as a mess as he was at the start of term. Friday came and to his knowledge he was still enrolled.

During this week Harry came to a brilliant new conclusion: he just had to hide it better. Yes, this was the new plan. Now he made a point to spend meal times laughing it up with Neville or Dean, or talking loudly with Justin about the new upcoming season of Quidditch. Hermione seemed pleased at first… but then worried at the out of the blue change. Sometimes she would laugh and joke too, wanting to believe a corner was finally turned... but when it was time to turn in homework in literally any class she would catch glimpses at his hastily scribbled essays (or he'd turn in nothing at all) and she knew it was all a lie.

But now the week was over, poor grades would be next week's problem. Their first Hogsmeade weekend coincided with some truly beautiful weather... the sun warmed them, the birds chirped, a nice light breeze, and he felt decent for the first time in weeks walking with Hermione to somewhere other than class.

Filch probed them, third years behind them surprised even 'The Famous Harry Potter' got probed with the rest of the students.

"So, I was thinking Honeydukes first, Dervish and Bangs second?" Harry asked.

"Yes, that's fine. Why don't we go to Zonkos first?"

"You don't even like Zonkos."

"I… Zonko's is fine. I don't mind Zonkos."

"Just surprised you'd want to go there when Ron's not with us."

She looked away. "Well, if I had it my way, we'd go to Gladrag's first, Harry, your robes are too small and you need better underclothes. You've been wearing those for what, four years straight?"

"Just three. Haven't had time. … I'll pick some up over the summer."

"You should pick some up today. But Zonko's, yes, I think I would like to go there. Maybe I can enjoy myself in a joke shop without George around."

Harry looked about at all the students. Many of them were looking at him, as well as the people who lived and shopped there. Several people pointed and he averted his eyes, walking straight, trying to focus on Hermione. What could she possibly want in a joke shop? Should he stop into The Hog's Head to properly thank Aberforth today?

As they got closer to Zonko's several more people gasped and called out to him, which he ignored. "Just leave him be," said a steady voice to another group of people calling out to him.

But now someone else was trying to get his attention, some bloke waving his arms in the distance like an idiot.

Harry stopped in the middle of the street. How did he not foresee this?

In front of Zonko's, Ron waived at them, all smiles.

His stomach turned upside down. He wasn't ready to see him. Beside him, Hermione gave a nervous smile, checking his reaction.

"OI! Mate! How's it going!" When Harry didn't come closer Ron ran up to them, closing the gap.

"Ron! … I… it's uh, good to see you." He turned to Hermione, asking with his eyes 'how could you do this.'

"Good to see you too, mate." Ron's eyes hardened, seeing the panic in his eyes. "How's Hogwarts? Bet it's weird to be back. Did you really turn down Quidditch Captain?"

"RON! I told you not to mention that!"

"Uh... Quidditch. Right. Yes." Harry looked everywhere but Ron.

"So… I was thinking, why don't we pop into The Three Broomsticks and grab some Butterbeers? Casual get together, you know," she offered.

"Listen- can't stay. Snape is threatening to kick me out if I don't turn in all my missed assignments by Monday. Robes. I just came here for new robes. SO. I'm going to buy them and… just get back to the castle. I'll… I'll see you two later. I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do," and he started to back away, looking anywhere but them.

"Mate, are you serious? I just got here!" and he looked angry. Really angry.

"No, I… I can't… busy. Lots of homework. I'm… I'm uh so, you two haven't seen each other in a while. I'd just be a bother… so… I'll just let you two catch up and… well, see you around…" and he turned.

Ron stared at him in furious disbelief as he walked away. Not back towards the castle, but away. "OI! You WANKER! GET BACK HERE!"

And he practically ran away from his own best mate. Instead of going to Gladrags he hid in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in case they went looking for him. Going down the rows of beautifully hand-crafted quills he stopped to hyperventilate in front of the ink bottles.

"Oh, it's you…" Draco drawled, peaking over from the next isle to find out who was breathing so hard. "What happened?" He took in his disheveled appearance but chose not to comment. His look was enough.

"Ron, he's here. Hermione invited him."

"Yeah, that does sound terrible. But why do you care?"

"I… I haven't been talking to anyone," he admitted, turning around, looking at the spines of some nice leather journals.

"Oh… I see…"

"Stressed, you know. Everything's a lot."

Draco nodded in agreement but didn't say anything. For some reason Draco wasn't leaving.

"Uh, how… how are you?" Harry asked, not actually caring, it just seemed like the polite thing to ask.

"It doesn't matter how I am. I am here to finish," he said stoically.

"…Right."

"Why didn't you take the job the Minister gave you?"

"I am taking the job the Minister gave me. I'm just finishing Hogwarts."

"I heard you're failing."

"Well, you heard wrong."

Draco smiled wryly. "I doubt it. In any case… Granger will pull you through…. Suspect she'll be teaching at Hogwarts officially soon."

"No, she won't, you don't know Hermione. She's obsessed with … laws... and… policies… and stuff. She was into elf rights and now… I don't know. Suspect she'll make it her life's mission to give the Ministry a hard time from the inside and out. Loves Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

"Yeah… I wasn't expecting it to be so… wordy."

"That textbook's a nightmare. Snape should write his own, suspect he'd be better at it." They were talking.

And then they weren't.

"Well, see you around." Harry turned to leave. When he got to the end of the row he turned back. "You can sit with us anytime, you know. Hermione is completely essential, I don't know how you manage to pass without her."

"But Potter, I don't want to." And it sounded like he really didn't want to.

"Right... See you around, then."

Promising himself he wasn't going to use it as much, he slipped on his Invisibility Cloak anyway to make it back to Hogwarts unseen. Alone with his thoughts presented him the perfect opportunity to punish himself for reacting to Ron that way, just another notch at destroying their friendship. No. He will forgive you. Your friendship is stronger than that.

Panicked voices on the incline up to the castle broke him out of his thoughts. Up ahead, two girls were holding up their friend, three black figures on the hillside.

"What are we going to do!? Send up sparks? Will they see them?"

"Yell for Filch- he's right down there!"

"What's FILCH going to do?" she snapped. "Let's carry her some more!"

"No, she's too heavy!"

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The third year tried, but it was a poor spell for bodies and she tipped her friend the wrong way. Harry averted his eyes quickly not to see her knickers.

"You can't float her in like that! Put her down!" her friend shrieked.

"Send up sparks then! Someone will see them!"

Harry passed, shutting off his feelings and opened an emotional glowing box, a sort of sick exercise he could perform on command, thinking of Hermione and living with her in the tent in the woods, them against the world. Shooting a Patronus towards the school, the girls shrieked again at the unknown magic erupting so close to them, looking around nervously with their wands drawn.

Just as he got to the castle doors, Snape erupted from it, looking around, searching for him. He saw the girls halfway down the hillside, stepping out to assist them. But on his way down, he twisted his neck looking for Harry, like if he tried hard enough he could see him despite the cloak.

Harry slipped inside the castle doors, watching the apprehensive girls as Snape approached like this was the last teacher they wanted help from.

I meant for Pomfrey to get that. Why did you intercept it?

Everyone out and enjoying Hogsmeade, he walked back up to the empty Gryffindor tower and laid down to sleep. An hour later he was still awake, staring up at the fabric of his four-poster. Students kept whizzing by the windows on their broomsticks laughing and screaming. He propped himself up, sick, sleep deprived, wondering if he could even do homework if he tried. Would Hermione be less upset with him if he finally caught up on some things? Opening his Defense Against the Dark Arts book, he stared at the little tiny words: dates, facts, laws. It was possibly the driest textbook he ever owned. At least History of Magic had detailed stories of bloody battles. A book detailing Dark Magic should at least have some gruesome illustrations.

Two hours later, Hermione came to find him, guessing correctly where he was.

"Did you hear? That third year with the long blonde hair is in the hospital wing."

"Which one? The Hufflepuff or the Ravenclaw?" He tried to act natural like he didn't witness it.

"The Hufflepuff. That's the second one this week! AND they just brought in another one."

Harry sat up. "Another one? Right after her?" They exchanged panicked looks, both weighing all the suspicious events in the past seven years with just a glance. To get more news they decided to head down for an early dinner. Sure enough, word traveled fast and many students returning from Hogsmeade whispered animatedly about three more students collapsing on the grounds.

"I went to the hospital wing this week," Harry said piling up his plate, wondering if he would sleep tonight if he stuffed himself.

"Really?" She brightened, like this was the best news she heard all day.

"…No, I didn't get a sleeping potion, or whatever you're thinking- I saw the students. They're all... lined up in the beds, looking purple. It was awful."

"Yes, it is awful. I go every week. Madam Pomfrey says they are getting better. It just takes about two weeks for them to stabilize. Forgetful though, they can't remember the whole day they got sick. Some even forget they're students and have to be reminded."

"Really? Can't believe this is happening… wouldn't hurt to have a normal year for once. Listen… Hermione… I'm sorry I acted that way today. I am actually really, really happy to be here with you. I don't want to be anywhere else, with anyone else."

Ginny violently got up from the table. He didn't see her sitting behind a tall sixth year. She passed them looking devastated and livid through her disbelief.

Hermione started fidgeting with her fork. Harry screwed up his face as he watched her leave in a huff. "That… what… she can't! Is she actually jealous?"

"Nooo!" Hermione said at once. "Nooo, of course not! I'm dating Ron, she knows that. But... but…" she didn't finish, she didn't have to.

"You're like my sister. Tell her, you're like my sister!"

"YOU tell her that, and Harry, don't say it that way." She avoided his gaze again, the unspoken: don't pretend I wasn't an option, that's just rude.

"I'm sorry… it's just that… I mean, it's okay that she treats me that way, but she shouldn't drag you into it. You have enough on your plate this year. You're going for more C.H.A.R.M.S. than anyone. And you don't have to babysit me, you don't HAVE to be around me all the time. I know you care, but I think I can manage on my own."

"Don't be ridiculous Harry! It's always been us, hasn't it? We're not together more than we normally would be. It's just that Ron's not here this year. This is just normal for us, isn't it? Can't it just be normal?" But it wasn't normal. If anything, they were spending less time together. There were less laughs without Ron, but the less people he had to deal with, the better.

"So…" he asked tentatively. "How was your date with Ron?"

"WELL, we had a ROW didn't we?" She abandoned her food altogether. "He's furious at you, I'm defending you, he's angry I'm that defending you, well, a lovely Hogsmeade date, you can imagine."

"You shouldn't have defended me! Stay on his good side, I wouldn't have minded. 'He's a prat, I'm ooooonly spending time with him so he doesn't off himself. Eeeeeveryone would be sad if he did. Think of your mum, when the boy who lived decided to be the boy who died!'" he mocked in a stupid voice.

"Harry DON'T. I mean, I should have. …But it would be disingenuous. Now that I think about it, I wish I did play it better. We yelled at each other for an hour."

"I'm sorry," and he was. "But you knew I was going to react that way if I saw him. I would have rather seen him at Christmas."

"Couldn't you have faked it for 30 minutes, Harry? He's your best friend."

"He is." He downed the last of his pumpkin juice. "And he hasn't seen you in two months, and he chose to spend his date with his talented and desirable girlfriend yelling at her in public, sooooo, THAT'S why I don't want to talk to him."

She couldn't argue with this.

"Harry… Good evening..." Nearly Headless Nick came floating towards them, looking around, guarded.

"Oh, hello." Harry was surprised to see him out and about at dinner. With all the deaths last year students were hounding him with questions about ghosts, so he spent most of his time floating around the castle after curfew or very early in the morning. "Doing alright?"

"As much as the next ghost, I'm sure. It is good to catch up with you, Harry. If I may, I bare a message: the headmistress would like a word with you this evening. May take, oh, about a half an hour. And… in my day I really enjoyed… Firewhisky. He gave Harry a knowing look and floated off, avoiding a fifth-year girl headed straight towards him by vanishing into the wall, leaving her disappointed.

"McGonagall?"

"We haven't spoken to her all year. I wonder what she wants."

"I wonder too… well, I better get going, shouldn't I?"

"Firewhisky!" The stone gargoyle jumped aside letting him into the spiral staircase. The headmaster's office looked inviting after his last desperate visit. McGonagall did not even acknowledge him, lost in a mountain of paperwork and right behind her, sure enough, the portrait of Albus Dumbledore watched him enter, smiling warmly at his arrival.

"Evening Potter, sit down." She looked up for only a second from the stacks on her desk, finishing up something. Then she took an arm and swept them all out of the way, clearing a path between her and Harry, making room for this conversation. Her fingers interlocked. The current headmaster surveyed him from over her glasses and Dumbledore equally surveyed him behind her from his portrait. Harry felt quite ganged up on.

"Am… am I in trouble?" Harry asked, eyeing them both in turn.

"Goodness, NO! Potter, no... This is more of an informal conversation. I would like to… check in with you."

"…Oh. Uh, sorry Professor, I know I didn't go to any Death Eater trials after Malfoy's hearing but…"

"Death Eaters?" she barked. "What do I care about Death Eaters? I care about you!"

"Oh… right…"

"Professor Snape tells me you haven't been turning in any of your homework."

"Uh, well, I… I don't really have an excuse for that, Professor. Except his class this year is very boring." Dumbledore's portrait smiled behind McGonagall.

"Jokes aside Potter, you are not doing well in Potions, and you're only scraping by in Charms. Transfiguration, well… I can't pin THAT blame on you."

"Can't we just blame everything on Transfiguration?" Harry hoped. It was McGonagall's turn to smile.

"Harry…" she readjusted, changing her tone. "What can I do for you? What do you need? I'm not sure this year is in your best interest, but I don't want to send you off either. What can Hogwarts do for you, what do you wish to accomplish during your time here?"

Harry thought about this for a while but had no real answers. "I'll… I'll do better, Professor. I'm sorry. I'll ask Hermione for help."

"Hermione is going for ten C.H.A.R.M.S. this ye-"

"I thought she was only doing seven!" Harry interrupted, perplexed by this news.

"She is taking seven at Hogwarts and self-studying for three more. Although she would be more than willing to help you, I want her to graduate in one piece. And Transfiguration…" she let out a strained sigh. "I can assign you a private tutor, Potter…"

"NO!" Harry said quickly. "No, Professor. I'll… I'll study harder, I'll get through… but..." A light went off in his head, now feeling quite hopeful.

"…Yes?"

"There is one thing that may help… if you could…"

"Yes, Harry, what is it?"

"My own room. Can I … have my own room? It doesn't have to be nice or anything. Just a bed to sleep in. Somewhere outside of Gryffindor tower."

She looked at him blankly. Her lips pursed, and her next words seemed to cause her a great deal of pain. "No."

"No...?"

"No, Harry. I don't think you should isolate yourself more than you've already been doing."

"Please, Professor!"

"No… I'm sorry, Harry."

"But it's the ONLY thing I've asked for!" he yelled, sounding and feeling like a child. "I'm DISTURBING everyone! I'm keeping EVERYONE up!"

"You are disturbing no one. Please, use Hogwarts as your temporary home right now, but I cannot give you private quarters. If there's… anything else I can arrange for you, outside of shutting yourself away, I'll be glad to hear it."

"I defeated Voldemort, and I can't even get private quarters? I'll exchange my trophy for it, I don't want it!" Dumbledore laughed softly behind her.

"Your special services to the school award has already been placed in the trophy room, along with Ronald's. I know you don't want it. Harry…" She shuffled some more items on her desk to give herself time. "There is a meeting… every Saturday…"

"I'm not going," Harry said defiantly.

"And why not? It wouldn't kill you to go to a single meeting. Find out what it's about. Hermione-"

"Again professor, I did my job, I killed Voldemort, I don't have to attend any meetings."

"You and Malfoy are impossible!" she snarled at him, but did not seem angry.

Good. He took pleasure in the fact that Draco wasn't going either.

"Very well." She shuffled more things on her desk. "You won't accept a tutor, you won't go to meetings, but I do have one final thing I need from you- and this is important. I need you for this, and won't accept 'no' for an answer!"

"…What is it?" he asked suspiciously, dreading this unknown ask.

"Severus' trial."

"WHAT? WHAT TRIAL!?" and Harry was on his feet, yelling.

"Severus' trial, Harry, October 20th. You will meet me here and we'll Floo in together to the Ministry."

"WHY!? Why is there a trial!? Surely Kingsley…!"

"You very well know why there's a trial! You have no objections in going, then?"

"NO, no... of course not!" He looked around at all the portraits staring at him, running his fingers through his hair. "A TRIAL! He CAN'T have one!"

"But HERE we ARE." She gave him a very serious look, interlocking her fingers again.

Harry's brain whirled. "Is it… is it bad? Is there a chance he'll get Azkaban?"

"There's a good chance we can avoid it, there's plenty of evidence for his true allegiance, but that may not matter. Last year was… difficult. And with the Carrows… Doing the right thing for the right reasons isn't always legal."

"No… I guess not."

McGonagall studied him from across the desk as he slipped back into his chair, stewing in silence, thinking about Snape getting sent to Azkaban only a few months into their new school year, and remembering how sick and small Lucius looked at his trial.

"Seven o' clock, Potter. Don't be late. Trial starts at eight," she said softly but firm.

Harry didn't say anything. It wasn't over. All the people who died, all the people yet to be tried, and here he was at Hogwarts, avoiding people and not even attempting to study. He wanted to run and leave again. But one looked back at McGonagall and he saw her expression mirroring his. Tired. Exhausted. They were in this together, weren't they?

"Professor…?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What… what can I do… for you this year? For Hogwarts." He swallowed. There were so many things he needed to say to her: a thousand thank yous, acknowledgements of her impossible strength, how much she sacrificed too and continued to sacrifice. What does one say to someone who shared the same devastatingly great experience? "I… I don't want to go to meetings… but… if you need help with anything else…"

"You've done more than enough, I think," and she meant it.

"Yeah... alright..." His posture slackened, sinking back into his chair. ...This did not go unnoticed by Dumbledore or McGonagall.

"But… if you're asking…"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Unity." She leaned in. "I would like the divide between houses to be more symbolic than literal- see the students support each other regardless of house. If… IF you have the opportunity to cross these boundaries, please do so. Whenever a student needs help, help. Whenever a student needs encouragement, give it. The school house divide did not help us during the war. If I need anything from you, it is to lead by example. Exemplify kindness. Demonstrate moral strength. Show them the house you are sorted into does not matter. But Harry… only if you have the opportunity."

"Yes," Harry agreed immediately, unsure of how he was going to do this except teach scared first years Transfiguration in the hallways alongside Hermione.

Her eyes darkened, lost in thought. And suddenly she looked as old as Dumbledore, with all his worries but with no façade to mask them. "You may go, Potter."

He looked at her surrounded by papers and portraits, encircled with the weight of last year and the crushing weight of the present. "Professor…?"

"Yes?"

"Is it… difficult? Getting work done… with Dumbledore in your office? Does he talk during your meetings and try and give you advice?"

They stared at each other. Her eyes popped in silent acknowledgement. The other portraits sniggered. Dumbledore chuckled, knowing he was guilty.

"Well then, thank you, Professor." He got up. "Hermione is always thinking of you. So… well… October 20th, 7 o' clock. I'll meet you here… bye now."

"Goodbye, Potter…"

Does he say goodbye to the portrait of Dumbledore too? He settled for a head nod and it was returned.