January 6, 1997

Snape's eyes squinted, and he ground his teeth together as he focused on the parchment. It wasn't often that Harry found himself sitting beside a silent Severus Snape. He had expected the typical snorts and sneers as he read through his potion finds and development. But after handing over the parchment detailing his last year of thorough research and work, he watched Snape as the smug sneer of amusement faded and a passive yet fascinated look of contentment took over. It was almost as uncomfortable watching Snape's face change into what Harry could refer to as pleasant if he wasn't waiting for a fierce tongue lashing.

Harry shifted on the stool. In his hand, he fiddled with a cork; twirling it round and round, tapping it once on the bench before twirling it again. He wondered how much longer Snape would take.

Snape's eyes snapped up from the parchment. "I don't remember giving you permission to go through with creating the potion." His voice was steady, with no infliction of anger or annoyance.

Harry said, "You have always taught me that the best way to advanced was to take risks."

Snape ground his teeth and rolled up the parchment. "I will need to do a more detailed reading, but this looks like good work. Have you tested your potion?"

"No. Thought that might be taking the risk a little too far, too quickly."

Snape nodded. "Next week, we'll start a trail with rats. I'll order a number. If your work isn't flawed in any obvious way, we can make a few attempts and see what kind of success you have."

Harry nodded and couldn't stop the proud smile that took over. "Thank you, Professor."

"Don't thank me. It's your work, Black. When you fail, you will only have yourself to blame." Snape stood up and walked over to his desk.

The proud smile dissipated with Snape's words, and Harry almost wanted to laugh. Snape would never let him have just one moment. He wouldn't be Snape if he didn't. But he had succeeded so far. It was the best outcome he could have asked for. He had pictured how the Potions Professor would respond as he had walked down that morning and had imagined the paper being turned to ash, Snape throwing it at his face, and the possibility of Snape firing him as his apprentice for overstepping. He really had thought of all of the worst-case scenarios, and instead, he got the closest thing he could get to a compliment from the man.

But even though he had made progress, that didn't mean Snape would let up. In fact, he threw Harry straight into work. He had him set up the potion's classroom for the first class and then provided him with a pile of forth year essays to grade. By the time Snape dismissed him for the morning, the excitement over his possible potion had dissipated. A wave of exhaustion had taken hold, and he hadn't even been to his first class yet.

But before Flitwick arrived, Harry turned back to Snape. He had wanted to talk with Carlisle further about the diary, but he thought it would be best to discuss it with Snape. He knew that Snape had more interests than just potions.

"Professor."

"Yes?"

"I have a peculiar question."

"If you are wasting my time, you will regret it."

"I'll try not to."

Snape sighed.

Harry took it as his sign to ask. "Have you ever heard of a diary that responds to being written in?"

Snape stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. "A diary that writes back?"

Harry nodded.

"Where did you find something like that?"

"I didn't, but I heard someone mention it during breakfast."

"Sounds like rubbish."

"Why do you say that?"

"It makes no logical sense. Why would a diary need to respond? Why would someone go to the effort of charming a bound collection of paper?"

"If we remove the logic in the scenario, how would someone accomplish such a thing?"

Snape frowned. "This sounds like a question for your charms professor."

Harry wanted to argue, but he had a point.

Flitwick arrived, at that moment, to collect him from Snape's care. Harry collected his bag, and they walked towards the Charms classroom where McGonagall was waiting with the other sixth years. Carlisle jumped into step with Harry as Flitwick let them in and told them to take their seats.

As they sat down, Carlisle asked, "How did it go?"

"Good," said Harry. "I think I impressed him."

Carlisle chuckled. "Only you could impress Snape."

Amelia and Jenna took seats behind them, and Jenna said, "Harry already impressed him. How else did he become his apprentice?"

Carlisle smirked. "Maybe he found out what made him tick?" He winked. "If you know what I mean."

Amelia and Jenna scrunched up their face.

"You are gross," said Amelia. She smacked him over the head as Harry laughed.

Carlisle shrugged and opened his book.

Flitwick tapped his wand on his podium and said, "Good Morning, students. I hope you all had a rested holiday break. I did have a quick announcement for you before we get started. As sixth years, most of you are turning 17 or will do soon; as such, you will become eligible for you to go for your apparition licence. There is a 12-week course available to you all that starts next week. If you'd like to sign up, just see me before the end of class." He smiled and twisted his wand in his hand. "Now, I figured for this morning, we would revise the charms we have gone over so far this year. Does anyone have a preference of where they would like to start?"

Charms went by quickly. The form of them worked on their spells, Harry pushing Carlisle in the right direction instead of letting him distract them all. Flitwick was happy to let them work as they pleased, not minding that his sixth years chatted and moved about as long as they were still doing their work.

Carlisle turned their conversation towards the apparation classes.

"Father has already informed me that I must attend," said Amelia.

"Did you not want to?" asked Jenna.

Amelia tilted her head back and forth and said, "I'm not really sure. Of course, it would be a great accomplishment and being able to hop around would be fantastic, but it can be dangerous."

"Just ask Harry for some pointers," said Carlisle.

Harry frowned. "Why me?"

"You apparated to France, remember?" Carlisle nudged his shoulder.

"Not intentionally. My magic was unstable."

"It's still impressive that you manage such a thing," added Jenna.

Harry shook his head. "Not something I plan on attempting again."

"So does that mean you won't be signing up?" asked Carlisle.

Harry said, "No, I do. I plan to use apparition. I just don't plan to be doing international travel with it."

Jenna scrunched her face and said, "I think I'd rather risk death than travel in another portkey."

Amelia smirked. "There are other ways of international travel that don't involve being sucked into a vortex."

Carlisle said, "Yes, they just take a really long time, and you have to mix with muggles."

"What's wrong with muggles?" Jenna raised her brows and clapped her hands together.

Carlisle chuckled and said, "I think it would be easier to list what isn't wrong with them!"

Amelia said, "Wow, you sound more like a Malfoy than ever."

Carlisle turned to look at the girls and noticed their annoyed expressions. He tried to smile, but Harry watched as his friend started to panic. Carlisle said, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure." Jenna shook her head and started to pack up her stuff.

Carlisle jumped from his seat and tried to stop her. "No, Jenna, I think muggles can be great. I just meant they can be strange."

Harry chuckled and said, "Mate, just apologies."

Carlisle's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry." It came out as a whine, and after a moment, the girls started to giggle at his expenses. Carlisle frowned and shook his head. "You are mean."

"Alright, students," called Flitwick.

Carlisle dropped into his seat as the girls continued to snicker. Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder and said, "You should know better."

Carlisle knocked his hand away. "Sod off!"


Harvey sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with his knee bouncing. Hermione was sitting beside him, and Neville was sitting across from them. He was waiting anxiously to try and talk to Ginny again. She had been making it impossible to get her attention and avoided him whenever she could. Harvey's only chances were during lunch—which was still being held in the Great Hall, but their Professors were keeping a close eye and taking turns standing at the different entrances—and in their common room.

That morning, Ginny had disappeared with the rest of the first years before he could even say good morning, so he had to wait until lunch. Slowly the students were brought into the Great Hall, and it seemed that the first years were the last.

Harvey twisted in his seat as he saw McGonagall usher in the students before taking a moment to observe the hall—probably checking for missing students. Ginny followed in the group of first years and made her way down the table towards them. Harvey smiled as she looked at him, but his shoulders sagged when she stopped. Ginny frowned and glanced around at the table before shaking her head. She seemed to be torn. Harvey was tempted to jump up and talk to her, but he didn't think he should.

Hermione seemed to believe that he just needed to let her be, when she was ready, she would come to him, but he hated waiting. Harvey's intentions were to help her, not to snoop on her private thoughts or share them with anyone. He just wanted her to understand that.

Harvey decided to turn back to his sandwich. He glanced over the table at Neville, who smiled warmly before returning to his book. He would just have to be patient.

But it seemed not for too long because Ginny surprised him by sitting beside him. Harvey turned to her, surprised.

"I thought you hated me?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "I was mad. You took my diary."

"I know, and I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have. But I understand why."

"You do?"

"You were trying to be a good friend. And all year, I've been wanting to make a good friend, and now I know I have." She nudged his shoulder. "Even if he does stupid things."

Harvey smiled. "Thank you for forgiving me. I promise that I will never snoop again, and I promise to help you find your diary."

Ginny's face beamed. "Would you?"

"Of course."

Her face dropped. "But didn't Harry want the diary? He said it belonged to Draco's father."

"Maybe we can convince them to let you have it."

"Harry seemed really worried, though, when you two came by."

"He probably just didn't want you to get in trouble for having something that technically belonged to another person."

Ginny's brows clenched together, and she looked away.

"Is there something else?" he asked.

Ginny started to chew on her lower lip before she leaned toward him and whispered, "It's not an ordinary diary."

"What do you mean?"

"The diary writes back."

"What?"

"Shh."

"Sorry."

"I didn't think it was anything special when I picked it up in Diagon Alley. I figured it was just a blank diary that the original owner just never used. But when I tried to write in it, the ink disappeared."

Harvey's eyes widened in surprise.

"And then it started to write back."

"Seriously?" he asked.

She nodded.

"So the owner charmed it to talk back."

"I don't know. I've never heard anyone mention a book that talks back. And from the way it spoke—"

"What?"

Ginny tucked her hair behind her ear. "It was like it was alive. I think it might be a real person or was a real person."

Harvey wasn't sure what to do as he took in what Ginny had revealed. Maybe that was why Harry had been so insistent about getting the diary back. Maybe the diary belonged to a member of the Malfoy family that had somehow become trapped within its pages. It sounded ridiculous, but his father had always told him that anything was possible when it came to magic.

"Maybe we should ask Harry?" said Harvey.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know what to do. I don't think I'll get the diary back, though."


There was nothing useful that anyone could tell him about the diary. He had spoken to Flitwick at the end of their Charms lesson, but the professor explained that something would be immensely difficult and not something he would even be sure how to do. Flitwick had offered to look at the diary, if Harry could provide it, but Harry didn't even know who currently had it. He had spent his lunch period trying to determine who could have taken it.

In his mind, there were two obvious potential suspects. The first was Draco. He had originally taken the diary from his father's office and was potentially trying to return it before he suffered some serious consequences. The other was Ron. The boy had a knack for trouble, and Harry wouldn't be surprised that stealing his sister's diary was something that he would do.

Getting information out of Draco wouldn't be easy, but he did have a few friends that could help. Amelia's younger sister, Pansy, seemed to be a close friend of Draco's, so she could potentially be helpful. As was Will's younger brother, Blaise. However, he wasn't sure if Blaise was Draco's friend or just a mere acquaintance. It was something he'd need to look into.

So with the diary being a dead end, for the moment, he decided to focus on whatever snake was living in the chamber. He had been able to get into the library to borrow a number of books referencing magical creatures, focusing on reptiles. He had returned to his dorm room and was sitting at his desk with the mirror Fleur had given him resting against the wall.

Fleur was sitting on her bed, dressed in her uniform, enjoying a free period. But unlike Harry, who was trying to find the snake, she had been trying to study. He had called her to catch up as he was already missing her.

"How is it, being back?" she asked.

Harry said, "It's tense. The Professors are worried, and students are scared. I think most people are just putting on a brave face."

"And what about you?"

"What? Am I scared?"

Fleur smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It's okay if you are."

Harry pushed back his hair from his face. "I know. I'm just more worried about the muggleborns. It's clear they are the targets. I think anyone else would just be collateral damage."

"No one's died yet, have they?"

He shook his head. "Thankfully, no. Professor Sprout is still waiting on the mandrake root. Snape is ready to go, but those plants are taking their time."

"I don't suppose you've had any luck finding the creature?"

"Not yet. I'm on my hundredth book. Have seen every sort of creature imaginable. Not one of them can petrify people or animals." He closed one book and reached for another.

Fleur asked, "Have you tried looking in Rosette Belrose's Anthology on all things Reptilian?"

"No, haven't heard of it."

"My Magical Creature's Professor recommended it."

"I will make sure to check the library for it."

"The creature has to be somewhere."

"Unless Slytherin found an unknown creature, hid it beneath Hogwarts to keep it safe, not realising what would happen after he died."

"I doubt someone like him wouldn't learn about a creature he kept in a school."

Harry chuckled and said, "The man wasn't exactly known for his kindness."

"And would you say you are an expert, are you?" Fleur teased.

"No, I'm not saying that. But from what you do read, it seems he was very careful. Everything he did, he did with a reason."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Harry pouted and squinted his eyes. "Are you comparing me to a Slytherin?"

Fleur grinned. "Possibly."

Harry couldn't help but return the smile. She was always able to make him feel better. And her smile lit up her beautiful face.

"Have you spoken to your mum recently?" she asked.

Harry felt his mouth go dry. It wasn't the conversation he wanted to have. "Not since Christmas."

"She is due soon, right?"

He nodded. "Um…yeah." He cleared his throat. "Harvey said about three weeks, so soon."

"That's exciting. You'll get to meet your baby sister."

Harry nodded, not really sure what to say. He had been avoiding thinking about his mother. Annabell had given him his options, but nothing seemed to make sense. How was he supposed to just decide if he wanted to keep his mother around? And if he didn't, how did he separate himself? Would that mean that he would simply never go over to Potter manor? Or would he also be separating himself from Harvey too? It was just a mess.

"Hey, where'd you go?"

Harry turned back to the mirror. "Sorry, just thinking."

"About your mum?"

He nodded.

"You never told me what Ms Winters said. How did talking with her go?"

"It was confusing."

Fleur frowned. "In what way?"

Harry didn't really want to explain it. To his own ears, it sounded horrible. To cut a person from his life forever seemed harsh. "She told me that I needed to decide if I wanted to keep my mum in my life?"

Fleur's frown deepened.

Harry closed the book in front of him and slouched in his chair. "How does one even do something like that? How do you decide to cut someone out of your life?"

"What was her reasoning behind it?" asked Fleur.

Harry sighed. "We were talking about my fear of mum hurting me again and how no matter what she says, I can't let it go. She told me that I've become so accustomed to mum disappointing me that it's like a reflex to expect pain. Her suggestion was to decide if I really wanted to go through with trying to fix my relationship with my mum. If I don't, then removing myself from the situation would help me."

Fleur's mouth opened and then closed. She looked as torn as Harry felt. He didn't expect Fleur to have his solution; he knew it was something he'd need to decide for himself.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

Harry nodded. "Of course you can."

"If you went back to before all of this happened, before your mother tried to change, before you met me, and everything exploded. If you were that boy who was standing on his own, feeling lonely in the world, feeling abandoned. What would you do then?"

It surprised Harry that he didn't even have to hesitate. "If someone had asked me last year if I wanted to cut them from my life, I would have said yes." Harry leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, and rested his head in his hands. "I wanted nothing more than to get away from them. I never wanted to play happy family, and I never wanted to watch my mother fawn over Harvey like he was the perfect child."

"And now, if you think about it, knowing that your mother has acknowledged her mistakes and regrets everything that she has done. What do you want?"

He didn't know. Harry pressed his fingers into the sides of his head and rubbed in circles. What did he want from his mother? For her to apologise? She had. To acknowledge everything she had put him through. She had. What did he want?

"I don't know," he said.

"I think you do," Fleur pushed.

Harry dropped his hands. "No, I don't."

Fleur sighed and looked at him with sad eyes. "Harry, you do."

He shook his head.

"You do. You just don't want to say it."

"If I knew, it would make this easier."

"Would it?" she frowned. "Nothing about this situation is easy. But what you should know by now is ignoring the truth isn't going to make anything better."

Harry stood up from his desk. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"What would you know!" he yelled.

Fleur flinched at his words.

"You and your perfect life!" Harry couldn't seem to stop himself as he snapped. "Everything has been handed to you on a silver platter. You've never suffered a day, so don't you dare tell me what I do and don't know." His hands trembled as his voice wavered. Tears had gathered in his eyes, and he wondered why was he yelling at Fleur?

Fleur swallowed and sifted on her bed. Her image in the mirror flickered and then disappeared. She'd ended their connection.

Harry's legs felt weak, so he slumped back into his chair. Why did he react like that? Fleur was trying to help him, and he'd yelled at her. "Fuck!"