Blood From A Stone Chapter 16 - Another Year Older, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the long wait! I can't promise any specific timeline for the next update, but I can promise that I am actively working on the next chapter in my very limited spare time, so thank you for baring with me :)

Warning(s): violence, descriptions of injuries/blood

Chapter 16 - Another Year Older, Another Year Closer…

Thankfully, the rest of the girls seemed to take everything in stride. There were a lot more in-depth follow-up discussions had in the privacy of their own dorm, but nothing about the revelations changed how they viewed Harry- all it did was just give more context. And the girls had to admit that some of it at least explained a few of the outstanding 'whys' and 'hows' for a few of Harry's eccentricities and such. It was sad to learn just how much he struggled with handling such basic positive emotions, but they were glad to know what the problem actually was so that maybe they could now begin to understand and try and help.

They all spent Sunday just decompressing from the rollercoaster that was the end of the last week. Or, at least, they were trying to when just after breakfast, Harry and Lily were summoned to Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry found himself rather nervous as he stood beside Lily as she knocked on the office door. For how often Harry seemed to find himself in trouble, he really had never gotten used to it. He just couldn't help it that the concept of angry adults and impending punishment made him anxious. Facing down Death Eaters was one thing- at least then he was allowed a wand and could speak his mind because it didn't matter what he said- they were going to try and kill him either way. But with regular authority figures, it was a completely different game- he couldn't fight back and opening his mouth very well might make the situation worse. He'd learned long ago that the adults had the only say that mattered.

So as McGonagall bid them enter, Harry took a deep breath, tucking his clenched fists inside of his pockets to hide their minute trembling. He knew he was being especially silly since they hadn't actually done anything wrong, he tried to remind himself. And McGonagall was usually fair enough in her decisions.

"Sit," McGonagall instructed, motioning towards the straight backed chairs placed before her desk. Harry distractedly wondered if she transfigured them to fit the mood of the meeting, making them rigid and uncomfortable as a way of setting the mood. As they settled into the indicated seats, McGonagall finished marking the essay before her and set her quill down slowly and deliberately, finally bringing her gaze up to look at Harry and Lily. "As I am sure you both have gathered, we are here to discuss the circumstances that led up to Mr. Doe's trip to the infirmary on Friday evening." Both students nodded. "Very well. I have heard a summary from Madam Pomfrey, but I would like to hear your version of events," she said, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth with an expectant look on her face.

Lily quickly gave her much the same story she had told Pomfrey the other night, but with a few more details here and there.

"Is there anything you would like to add or amend, Mr. Doe?" McGonagall asked, turning her searching gaze towards Harry.

"No, ma'am," he said with a shake of his head. But then he added, "Just- I'm sorry. It had been a very rough day and it didn't even cross my mind to stop and consider how what we did might look from the outside. We really were just talking. And-" Harry hesitated for an instant as he took a deep breath before continuing on, "I don't just regret that we got caught. I regret being thoughtless enough to put us both into such a situation," he said contritely.

McGonagall surveyed Harry with hard, searching eyes for a second before seeming to accept his words. "While a lecture on propriety may be warranted here, I feel like such an exercise would be a waste of all of our time. Ms. Evans, while I appreciate your desire to help your friend, I will remind you that access to the prefect bathroom is a privilege and one that is to be strictly exercised alone. And Mr. Doe, while I can understand the toll a long day may have on you, please do try and employ a little more critical thinking when making your decisions. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor- each- for being out of bounds," McGonagall told them sternly. "But three points to Gryffindor, Ms. Evans, for ensuring that your classmate received proper medical attention despite the risk of repercussions for the circumstances surrounding the incident." McGonagall cast Lily a small smile. "Now, off with you two. I do not want to have to have another discussion like this in the future- am I understood?" Harry and Lily both nodded once again as they rose from their chairs, happy to have been let off with barely a slap on the wrist and a mild talking to. "And Mr. Doe- Do try your best to stay out of the hospital wing for a while, for all of our sakes, yes?" Harry met McGonagall's eyes and saw the slight pleading lurking behind the stern gaze.

"I'll try my best, ma'am," he promised with a weak smile. As he turned to leave, he added under his breath, "Unfortunately, it seems that most days 'my best' just isn't good enough."

Come Monday, things actually seemed to be getting back to normal. Harry felt lighter than he had in a long time and the others were happy to see him with a genuine smile on his face. Lessons were a touch boring as they were all lectures kicking off the week during the shorter periods they had on Mondays.

Tuesday passed with an interesting mix of spiny plants in Herbology and a pleasantly nuanced discussion of Giants in Care of Magical Creatures class. At dinner though, Harry noticed something a little odd- all of the girls seemed a bit down. After watching them all mournfully make their way through the food on their plates for nearly twenty minutes, Harry finally caved and leaned over, nudging Gretta with his elbow and asking, "Hey- What's wrong?"

She turned slightly doleful eyes on Harry and said, "It's the 28th," as if that explained everything.

"Okay… So?" Harry gave her a puzzled look.

"So? So tomorrow is March!" Gretta said, exasperated.

"What's wrong with March?" Harry asked, now feeling a touch of trepidation.

At his question, Milli's head snapped up across the table and she gasped with wide eyes, "He doesn't know!"

"Know what?! What's wrong with March?!" Harry was starting to panic at the way the girls were acting and talking like they were all about to face their impending doom.

"March is Birthmonth," Gretta said simply.

"I can't believe that those toerags didn't warn you," Milli growled, glaring down the table towards the other guys. "They were just planning on springing it on you, I guess- and with Sirius starting no less. Merlin." Milli looked away in disgust, shaking her head.

"What the bloody hell is 'Birthmonth'?" Harry asked warily.

Gretta finally took pity on him and explained, "It's just one big excuse for your idiotic dormmates to act like even bigger prats than they normally do. All of their birthdays fall on a different week of March, so they basically each declare themselves royalty for a week and expect everyone to bow down before them and cave to their every whim. The lot of them are insufferable the whole damn month. Even Remus tends to let it go to his head- I think it's because it's the only time the others actually listen to him and do what he says without question. They all consider Birthmonth sacred. The rest of us just try and survive it. Brace yourself, Harry," Gretta warned darkly.

It was a good thing that Gretta had warned him about 'Birthmonth' or else Harry likely would've hexed Sirius the next morning.

The day had begun, as usual, with Harry up long before the rest of the dorm's inhabitants. He got up and dressed and then returned to his bed where he sat, catching up on some of the reading that he'd let slide the past few weeks with everything else going on. While Harry knew that his grades there didn't actually matter, he also really didn't want to fall behind and have it bite him in the arse when he finally managed to return to his own time- especially when such knowledge just might keep him and his friends alive and help them defeat Voldemort. Lily had called his time at this Hogwarts a 'vacation', but Harry knew that he could not afford to actually be fully off the clock. Harry convinced himself that if he was going to continue to be a coward and hideout in the past, the very least he could do was try and prepare himself for when he returned to his own time as best he could.

However, the serenity of the quiet dormitory was broken, along with Harry's concentration, by a loud bark. He jumped so hard he dropped his book at the unexpected noise. Looking up, Harry watched as Padfoot rolled off of Sirius' bed and took off in an excited lap around the dorm, barking loudly at the slumbering occupants of the other three beds. After his second lap, Padfoot jumped onto James' bed, walking heedlessly all over the poor boy who was still trying in vain to sleep, and then stooped down to lick his face. That finally got a reaction from James, who let out a loud noise of disgust, shoving roughly at the dog to try and get him off.

Sirius shifted back, laughing. He was now sitting in James' bed with his back against the wall and his legs propped up on James' back as the other boy tried to bury his head further into his pillow.

"Nuh-uh-uh, Prongsy! Up and at 'em!" Sirius crowed, yanking James' pillow out from under his head, leaving him with only his arms to try and hide away underneath. When James made no move to rise and face the day, Sirius added, "Now, is this really the precedent you want to be setting for Birthmonth this year? Are we just throwing out five years worth of tradition for the sake of your beauty sleep?" Sirius pouted, jabbing a finger roughly into James' side.

James mumbled something into the mattress, his head still hidden under his arms, desperately trying to block out the sunlight and Sirius.

"What was that, Prongs?" Sirius asked lightly, cocking his head down towards James' smooshed face.

James huffed a sigh before unfolding his arms and turning his head to the side. Giving Sirius the stink eye, he repeated, "I said- 'Maybe if your fat arse wasn't crushing me, then I'd be able to get up.'"

Sirius ignored the glare and hostile tone and laughed as he scooted off of the bed, making a point to sit heavily directly on top of James as he made his way over to the edge. James let out a dramatic 'oof' as Sirius did so.

Remus, having heard what was going on two beds over, had wisely elected to get up of his own accord before Sirius was free to turn his attention towards someone new. Peter, however, was either too heavy of a sleeper to have been roused by the commotion or just a glutton for punishment as he had not followed Remus' example of self preservation. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the lump that was Peter from across the room. Stalking over, Sirius promptly smacked him with James' pillow which he'd not given back. Peter gasped as his eyes flew open. When he saw Sirius looming over him with a manic grin, Peter suddenly disappeared and a small lump could be seen moving underneath the covers on his bed as Wormtail attempted to make an escape. Soon Padfoot and Wormtail were playing a corrupted game of cat and mouse around the dorm.

Eventually, Sirius managed to pin Peter down with one large paw when he got himself trapped in the corner between Remus' trunk and the wall. Padfoot gave one last victorious bark before transforming back into Sirius and Peter soon followed. Both boys were smiling broadly, so apparently there were no ill feelings from the chase. Harry was left to wonder if it was some kind of odd ritual for the two of them. James and Remus had basically ignored the wild pair running around the room and had gotten ready like nothing out of the ordinary was happening, so perhaps, for them, it wasn't.

Sirius then rushed Peter through getting dressed even though it wasn't even 7 o'clock yet. "We have a pitstop to make before breakfast," was the only explanation he gave when Peter grumbled, asking what the big hurry was while casting a pitiful look out the window at the creeping sunrise. With Sirius' prodding and mild threats, everyone was ready in record time.

As they headed out of the tower, Sirius was practically skipping down the hallway. He led the group down to the Entrance Hall, but didn't stop there, proceeding down another set of stairs as well into the basement. Soon enough, Harry began to suspect where they were headed and his suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later when they arrived at a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Sirius reached out and tickled the pear before stepping back as the canvas swung forward to admit them into the kitchens. It looked like nearly a hundred house elves were working feverishly to get breakfast ready for the castle. Steam filled the low-ceilinged room with a muggy haze as the elves moved in a frantic but coordinated dance around the tables and cooktops in a way that reminded Harry of worker ants teaming in a freshly disturbed mound.

One of the nearby elves broke away to come greet them. "Good morning Misters Blacks and Potties and Loopy and Pettigoo!" Harry had to fight hard to hold back his laugh at the fantastic butchery of their names, literally biting his tongue behind his smile. "And Sofi is not knowing young Misters' other friend," the little elf said, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

"My name is Harry Doe. It's very nice to meet you, Sofi," Harry introduced himself, smiling down at the elf.

"Oh, Misters Doey is very polite!" Sofi said, anxiously bobbing up and down on her toes, making her ears flap like little wings as she looked back around at the others. "What is the young Misters be needing this morning? How can Sofi be helping?" She asked eagerly.

"Oh, we just stopped by to say hello and see what was cooking," Sirius shrugged her off. "And I had a little something for a friend that I was hoping to send up with breakfast. You know, a little birthday surprise- if you wouldn't mind keeping it between us?" Sirius flashed the elf a brilliant smile and a wink that sent Sofi blushing furiously as she quickly nodded, stepping aside for Sirius who walked briskly past her and down the aisle between two of the long tables. He stopped every now and then, seeming to lean over to inspect something on the table until he reached the end where he turned around and walked back to rejoin the group.

While Sirius had been gone, Sofi had taken it upon herself to provide the others with plenty of freshly baked pastries. Harry figured that the elves must make them for the staff table since he had never seen such elaborate goods on the house tables for a regular meal before. Such things were typically reserved for holidays and feasts- at least when it came to the students.

As Sirius approached, he caught the tail end of Sofi lecturing Harry. She was saying sternly, "...Doey needs be eating more. Looks more like one of the elves than the students!" As she shoved another scone into the hands of a furiously blushing Harry.

Sirius was happy to see the elf had taken up his mission to make sure Harry eats properly in his brief absence and grinned. He walked up and threw one arm around Harry's shoulders as the other snuck down to poke him in the side. "Yeah, 'Doey'. It's gonna take more than a few scones to live up to that nickname, so you better start now," Sirius teased. Harry sent him a glare before ducking out from under his arm and putting Remus in between him and Sirius like a human shield.

After receiving a few more goods from Sofi, thanking her for the treats, and reminding her to keep their little visit quiet for the 'surprise', the boys left the kitchens. Sirius led them on a roundabout route back up to the Great Hall as they ate the delicious pastries that had been gifted to them. He timed it pretty perfectly so that they arrived as they were finishing up their snacks and just as the food made an appearance on the tables. Sirius picked out a spot for them right in the middle of the Gryffindor table and took a seat. The glint in his eyes made Harry a little worried about what exactly he had done down in the kitchens- especially since it had been the Slytherin table that he'd seemed to be 'inspecting' down there. And Harry wasn't really sure how far this 'Birthmonth' leniency went in terms of the whole 'he whose birthweek it is gets to do whatever they want and everyone else just has to fall in line' thing. But no one had questioned Sirius about what he was doing and Harry just wasn't sure what the protocol was, so he deferred to the others for now.

After about ten minutes, one of the early riser Slytherins stood up rather quickly and hurried out of the hall. Sirius tracked the boy's progress with sharp eyes and a small smirk. After that, there seemed to be a common repeat of the behavior breaking out at their table. Every few minutes it seemed that one or two people would hop up with a slightly panicked expression and rush out of the hall. And with every new fleeing form, Sirius' grin grew.

When Snape fell victim to the same odd behavior as so many of his housemates, Sirius gave a victorious cry. "Ha! I knew that greasy git was dull enough to eat porridge for breakfast!"

As the guys all watched Snape's hasty retreat out of the hall, Harry finally had to ask, "What exactly did you do to their porridge?"

"Oh, I just added a little something special to help them jump start their day…" Sirius said innocently.

"'Something special', eh?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just a splash of dandelion extract." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows back.

Remus snorted into his pumpkin juice, effectively spilling it all over his hand and the table in front of him. He whipped his head around and watched as three more Slytherins ran out of the Great Hall. "You didn't?!" He gasped quietly.

Harry looked at the others and saw that James was trying to contain his laughter while Peter looked about as confused as he felt. "Umm… What exactly does dandelion extract do?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Sends 'em running!" James snorted.

Remus slowly turned back around and started wiping up the mess of pumpkin juice as he seemed to be searching for a more helpful way to answer Harry's question. As he folded his napkin back up, Remus finally said, "In its distilled form, it's a rather strong… natural laxative." That was as tactfully as he could manage to put it. Peter then burst out laughing while Harry's eyes widened as he looked between Sirius and the Slytherins and then internally rolled his eyes at James' rather crude joke.

"So I'd avoid the first floor bathrooms today, if I were you," Sirius winked.

That day in Charms they began working on the Knitting charm. Harry had seen Mrs. Weasley use it quite often when he'd visited the Burrow- she seemed to be able to even use the charm in the background as she performed other magic as well, so Harry was actually quite interested to learn more about the theory behind the spell as well as the practice. The problem was that in order to properly cast the charm, one had to first understand the knitting process itself in order to know how to direct the magic to replicate the act. This led to one of the weirdest classes of Harry's life wherein Professor Flitwick taught a room full of sixteen and seventeen-year-old witches and wizards how to knit the muggle way. Not a single person knew what the hell they were doing- including Harry for once. Thank Merlin his aunt Petunia had never made him get quite so domestic as to knit for her. Besides- such an activity might have been viewed as too relaxing for Harry as his chores were usually heavily focused on intense manual labor. Though, Harry did know how to sew- which was admittedly a close cousin of knitting- but that was mostly due to the fact that his closes were rather old and ratty and rarely fit him, so he'd been force to develop that particular skill out of necessity or else walk around looking even more like a bum than he already did.

Even learning the simple process of casting on took well over an hour for the whole class to be all on the same page as such an activity was so outside of the norm for most of the students raised in magical households. Many people seemed to be struggling with the spatial reasoning required to understand how the stitches came together and why it mattered if you went over versus under and so on. Overall, the whole class was a hot mess and by the end of the three hours, most people did not have anything even resembling the pot holder that they were meant to be making. In fact, the vast majority of the class had little more than a knot of yarn. Harry had a feeling that they were going to be spending a lot of time on this particular charm and his respect for Hermione and the knobbly hats she'd made for SPEW in their 4th year grew significantly now that he knew what actually went into making them. Harry might not know a lot about knitting, but he knew making a hat was a lot harder than making a pot holder or scarf, so it was rather impressive that she'd managed to make them at all- even if they weren't perfect.

Their homework assignment that day was to have a completed potholder by next class.

That afternoon in Defense, Fortin seemed dead set on trying to make someone pass out. Apparently they had begun a whole 'agility' unit, which seemed to just be a euphemism for a shit ton of running. While Fortin's class had always been a rather active one spent mostly on their feet and moving around, this was a whole new level. They were back in the Great Hall, this time with the tables pushed to the edges of the room for maximum clear floor space. Fortin had basically drawn an indoor track on the ground. The entire class was running laps and she would call out two names from her hat- the first name was the 'runner' and the second name was the 'pursuer'. The runner's job was to complete one full lap while the pursuer's job was to disarm the runner before they completed their lap. Either player automatically lost if they hit anyone else in the class besides their opponent with a stray spell.

Thankfully, Fortin let them stop for a five minute rest and water break every twenty five minutes, but it was still a long time to be intermittently jogging/sprinting. Although, the exercise did teach Harry another good use case for nonverbal spellwork- when you were just too damn out of breath to get out the proper incantation. By the end of the first hour, even the athletes of the group were huffing and puffing quite a bit. Peter, Haleigh, and Pura seemed to be struggling the most and were basically moving at a bright-faced, brisk walk. About half of the class was fairing just slightly better than them at a very light and sweaty jog. Then the last handful of them were just too competitive to give up and were keeping up with a steady pace, but even they seemed to slow down noticeably as the second hour waned.

When Harry's name was called out, he took off, knowing someone was bound to be right on his heels. Thankfully, the Great Hall wasn't big enough for the track to be full sized, so the lap wasn't as long as it could've been. As he ran, he was painfully reminded that he hadn't really properly run or done any strenuous exercise beyond quidditch practice since his injury and his leg muscles were now loudly protesting the sudden harsh treatment. But Harry was well versed in blocking out such things, so he ignored the discomfort and focused on the task at hand. And of course it was Neith that was coming after him- just his luck. She was fast and had deadly aim.

They had both been keeping up in the faster of the groups, so she was close behind Harry as he took off. Luckily, it was very hard to keep pace while running and trying to aim at the same time, so the pursuers had to make a choice as to which was the better tactic to use and how to balance their approach. Neith seemed to be focused on speed and trying to catch Harry, but as they passed the halfway mark on the lap, she switched tactics and started throwing spells instead. Unfortunately, they had outrun the main pack of people, so there wasn't really anyone around for Harry to use as a human shield to try and get Neith out that way, so he was also forced to slow down in order to dodge the jets of light that were coming at his back. It was hard to balance looking both in front of you so that you don't trip and behind you so that you don't get hit.

Neith was gaining on him as Harry kept being forced to move sideways instead of forward, throwing off his momentum in favor of dodging the well aimed hexes coming his way. Just as he rounded the last corner with less than a quarter of the lap left, a burning pain shot up Harry's leg as the muscles seized up in a vicious cramp. As he stumbled with a limping step, Harry made the split second decision to change the rules of engagement since he was undoubtedly going to lose if he attempted to continue on as is.

He stopped running suddenly and dropped down, rolling to the side instead. He was careful to stay within the bounds of the track as he did so. Fortin hadn't specified that they had to remain running the entire time, just that they had to remain on the designated track and that the end goal was a completed lap. The move was so unexpected, that Neith actually ran past him before she was able to stop or correct her aim. Harry quickly disarmed her while she was whirling around towards him and caught her wand as it sailed through the air. Then, for good measure, he bound her in ropes so that she couldn't get him the muggle way- Harry had learned his lesson on that one well enough at this point. Once he was satisfied that Neith was no longer a pressing threat, he straightened up and limped his way around the remainder of the lap, trying to work out the cramped muscles in his leg.

After he completed the lap, he turned and vanished the bindings on Neith and tossed her her wand. The Slytherin girl snatched it out of the air with a glare as she got up and started angrily jogging once again. Harry made sure to give her a wide berth as she ran past. Fortin called out the next pair of names. After a few minutes, Harry picked up his pace once again, falling back into step with the pack.

In the end, it was proven that three hours- even with breaks- was much too long to be running. Even the small group of holdouts had slowed to a dragging jog by hour three and the rest of the class was basically walking with their hands on their heads desperately trying to breathe. When Harry's name had been called towards the end of class as the pursuer, he had opted to just stop and take good aim, disarming his opponent from across the room rather than bothering to chase after them at all- and he had a feeling that Gretta was actually grateful that he'd saved her from having to run the full lap rather than mad that she had lost. Fortin showed them all no concern or mercy the entire time, keeping them on the strict schedule she had laid out at the beginning of the lesson- though thankfully she also did not reprimand anyone for not technically running the entire time. She only called people out if they stopped moving all together for more than thirty seconds.

Needless to say, by the time class got out, they were all a bunch of flushed, sore, and sweaty messes. Sirius insisted that they go outside to cool down before even facing the climb up to Gryffindor tower and a long, soothing shower. As biting cold air met overheated skin, Harry could have sworn that he felt steam rise off of his exposed face and neck. After a minute though, the freezing temperatures succeeded in not only cooling them off, but turning their sweaty clothes now unpleasantly clingy, cold, and damp, so they headed back inside and slowly made their way up to the tower to get cleaned up and changed.

Sirius, of course, called first dibs on the shower, so the others were left to wait as he took his sweet time in the bathroom. The rest of them lounged around on the floor, not wanting to sit on the furniture when they were so gross. They played a few rounds of Stone, Parchment, Wand in order to determine who got to shower next. Unfortunately, Harry lost both times putting him dead last in line for the loo, so he just laid back and stared at the ceiling as the others all took their turns. Pyrrhus fluttered down to join him, settling in the center of his chest.

When it was finally Harry's turn for a shower, he shooed Pyrrhus away and got up with a hiss as his body protested the movement after the rigorous exercise, followed by laying on the hard stone floor for so long. His leg seized up again- though thankfully not quite as badly this time.

"You okay?" Sirius asked, giving Harry an odd look. He could tell that there was something off about the way Harry was standing, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Harry waved him off. "Yeah. Just a little sore." He cautiously tested his leg with a little weight and let out another small hiss. At Sirius' raised eyebrow, Harry told him, "I just haven't really been running since…" He didn't know what to call it- 'the accident' didn't really seem to fit, but 'the attack' or 'my injury' seemed kind of dramatic and a little too 'woe is me' for Harry's liking, but he had faith that Sirius would understand without him having to spell it out. "My leg is just not used to that much exercise, I guess," he shrugged, taking a few limping steps over to his trunk to fish out a change of clothes before heading towards the bathroom.

After the shower, Harry was feeling significantly better, though his leg was still bothering him a bit. It must have shown too because Sirius had the audacity to pull Birthweek rank and insist that Harry dig his cane out for the rest of the night. That felt like an abuse of power in Harry's opinion, but the rest of the guys insisted that such a demand was completely within Sirius' rights as man-of-the-week or whatever they called it. After five minutes of incessant arguing, Harry just threw his hands up and caved. This really was going to be a long month if the other guys got to control not just their group activities, but everyone else's lives to such an extent as well.

The girls were a little concerned when Harry showed up at dinner with his cane after basically a month without needing it, but he did his best to assure them that he was fine and it was just that Sirius was being dramatic and impossible. And while they were still a little concerned, they also knew how Sirius could be, particularly on his Birthweek and when it came to protecting Harry- especially from himself.

The next morning, Sirius roused everyone early once again- though this time they were in less of a rush to get out the door. When he noticed Harry was still limping, Sirius forced him to use the damn cane once again. This time, Harry grumbled, but complied sensing that resistance was futile at this point, given how yesterday had gone on that front. Once everyone was ready, Sirius led them straight down to the Great Hall.

"Eat up. We have to head to Potions early today," Sirius declared as they all settled around the table.

With only a few curiously raised eyebrows, everyone compiled with the order. Sirius was not exactly known for his enthusiasm for Potions, so Harry was left with a sinking feeling that whatever he had planned was once again not going to end well for the Slytherins.

Just as they were wrapping up their hurried breakfast, the girls arrived, casting a wary look at Sirius. They knew to have a healthy fear of a Sirius who was smiling before 10am. While nobody said anything, Harry caught Lily surreptitiously casting a few Revealing charms on the bench and table before actually taking a seat. He respected her caution.

As Peter was scraping up the last of the beans on his plate, James and Sirius were having a silent conversation. After so many months living with them, Harry was actually able to follow the gist of their subtle eyebrow twitches and the slightest movement of their heads. James appeared to be petitioning Sirius for amnesty for the girls from whatever it was that he had planned. Sirius was milking it and really making James beg before he finally acquiesced. He simply turned and said casually to no one in particular, "You might want to be early to Potions today," before getting up and gathering his things, cuing the rest of the guys to follow.

The girls all immediately grabbed for whatever food was closest and vaguely portable and scrambled after the others as Sirius led the way out of the hall. They also knew better than to not take such a suggestion deadly seriously. Lily glared at the back of Sirius' head as they made their way down to the dungeons, but not knowing exactly what the devious boy had planned, there was little she could do to stop it, so she was forced to opt for self-preservation at the very least.

Curiously, as they reached the Potions classroom, Sirius went straight to the front and took the seat that Neith usually occupied. Typically, the Gryffindors kept to the back of the room, sitting as far away from Slughorn and his snakes as possible. Odd. But the others followed his lead, knowing that he had done so for a reason and that they did not want to be on the wrong end of finding out precisely what that reason was.

Just as he was moving to set his bag down and take a seat next to Lily, Harry suddenly tripped, pitching forward. He threw out his hands to catch himself before his face unceremoniously met the floor, dropping his bag in the process which seemed to explode on impact with the dungeon floor sending his books, parchment, ink, and quills scattering in every direction. The sudden clatter cut through the tense air, drawing everyone's attention towards Harry, who was now basically lying in a growing puddle of ink and debris.

"Are you okay?" Lily gasped, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to him.

"I'm fine," Harry huffed with a groan of irritation as he sat up, looking around for something to wipe his inky hand on, eventually settling for his robes when no good alternative presented itself.

"Is your leg okay?" James asked as he too crouched down, surveying the damage.

"It's fine," Harry insisted. "I just tripped. And made a right mess," he added, looking around. Somehow his stuff had landed as far as two tables away and half of it was now sodden. With a sigh, Harry went to start picking things out of the pooling ink, but was stopped by Remus.

"Leave it," he said from above. "It's not worth the mess." Remus cast a quick scourgify before stooping down to collect the now clean, dry items. Lily semi-forcibly pulled Harry to his feet while everyone else helped gather the rest of his scattered things.

"You really don't have an Unbreakable charm on your inkpot?" Gretta asked as she brought a piece of parchment that used to be Harry's homework, but was now unrecognizable and dripping in spilled ink, over to his desk. She held it as far away from her body as possible, pinched dramatically between two fingers. "For how much you two yammer on about Charms, one would think you might put some of them into more practical use than decorating the walls," she said pointedly, desposting the ruined paper on the table.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I do have an Unbreakable charm on it," Harry said, pointing at the pot still sitting on the floor. It was indeed whole and unbroken. "That doesn't mean it can't be spilled," he pointed out. And sure enough, the well was simply turned on its head, the lid sitting a little ways across the floor.

Thankfully Lily knew a spell that could clear up unintended ink blotches, so Harry's essay was able to be recovered and his books saved. With everyone's help, in just five minutes time everything was back in its proper state and place with the sole exception of the vanished ink itself- but hopefully Harry wouldn't be needing that for this particular lesson.

"Thanks," Harry said embarrassedly as he basically sat and watched everyone else clean up his mess.

Once Lily had helped him up, Harry had again made to start picking stuff up, but she had dragged him back to his seat instead. "They've got it," she brushed off when Harry opened his mouth to protest. The same way Harry would pick up something one of them had dropped, he needed to learn that it worked going the other way just as well.

By the time everything was set to rights and everyone had taken their seats once again, it was only ten minutes until the start of class, so they just quietly chatted, waiting for the Slytherins to arrive and the lesson to begin.

Slughorn emerged from his office at five till. Seeing that the Gryffindors had arrived early for once, he narrowed his eyes, giving them a searching look. Slughorn had been a professor long enough to know that students do not suddenly break their set patterns without reason. And with these students in particular, that reason was usually trouble. However, he soon caught sight of the cane propped against Harry's desk and figured that that was the reason for their early arrival today. If the young man was having issues again, they likely wanted to avoid the crowded hallway rush right before class and had learned at this point that they better be early rather than late. The professor relaxed, a genial smile coming over his face as he greeted the first half of the class. Unfortunately for him, Slughorn had only noticed and analyzed half of the broken pattern that morning and completely overlooked the fact that not only were the Gryffindors early, but they had chosen to sit at the front of the classroom rather than the back. Perhaps if he had noted that oddity as well, the professor would not have been so quick to dismiss his suspicion.

The last broken pattern of the morning was that the Slytherins themselves had yet to arrive. Usually they were the first group to enter the classroom (just how early, Harry could not say as the Gryffindors typically waited until the last possible moment to enter the Potions lab so as to minimize their shared time together). That morning, however, having noticed the conspicuous lack of 6th year Gryffindors at breakfast, the snakes were wary and had timed their arrival so that there would be no time for whatever Gryffindor nonsense was being concocted before the lesson began. This too was a mistake as the 6th year Slytherins failed to consider that not everyone respects the classroom and their Head of House as they do. And Sirius was most definitely not afraid to disrupt a lesson if he thought the end result would be 'worth it'.

Precisely one minute before the start of class, a few muffled shouts could be heard from the corridor along with the sounds of hurried footsteps. Before Slughorn could do more than look startled, the missing Slytherins tumbled through the door, shoving one another in order to get away from whatever was happening out in the hallway faster. They were all so preoccupied with whatever was going on behind them that they failed to pay attention to what was happening in front of them. If they had been looking- or listening- those at the back may have reconsidered pushing their way into the classroom and more critically evaluated if whatever was happening in the corridor was as bad as what was about to befall them if they pushed forward.

Fresh cries rang throughout the room as the first few Slytherins heedlessly ran through the doorway only to find themselves doused with thick, green, putrid slime. They stopped dead in their tracks only for the others to crash into them, sending the lot of them crashing to the floor. There were shouts and curses as the pile of slick Slytherins fought to disentangle themselves and get to their feet with little success. Instead they slid around the grimey floor looking like the contents of one of future Snape's disgusting jars of mystery ingredients lining the shelves of his office.

Sirius nearly fell off of his stool laughing at the disgusting pileup. The rest of the Gryffindors just stared at the writhing mass with mixed expressions of horror, revulsion, and amusement. James and Peter soon joined in on the laughter while Slughorn appeared to be completely frozen with wide eyes and gaping mouth behind his desk.

Unfortunately, it was the young Snape who was the first to free himself from the tangle and stagger to his feet. As he whipped around, zeroing in on the cackling Sirius, Harry had the momentary thought that he looked like a man possessed. His eyes were so dilated that they appeared nearly solid black.

"Pity Snivillus didn't get caught in it. Just his normal greasy self today," Sirius sighed in mock disappointment.

Snape's nostrils flared. His wand was out and firing a bright streak before anyone could even blink.

Harry cursed. He cursed Sirius for his stupid prank and his fat mouth. He cursed Snape for being so quick to violence and having damn good aim. He cursed himself for letting his guard down and not being able to reach his own wand in time to help. Slughorn wasn't any more prepared than Harry, so there wasn't much faith in him for any immediate assistance. And Harry was sitting too far away to simply push Sirius out of the line of fire. He didn't recognize the spell and Snape had cast it nonverbally, but based on his expression alone, Harry was willing to wager that it was neither low-level nor harmless. So, he did the only thing he could think of and snatched his bag, chucking it into the path of the jet of light careening towards Sirius, whose face was still innocently creased with laughter.

The spell collided with the bag midair, causing it to explode and the contents to be scattered across the classroom floor for the second time that morning. An acrid smell distinct from that of the slime permeated the dungeon air as some fluttering bits of parchment smoldered on their way to the ground. The dramatic interception seemed to have frozen the room. Everyone held their breath as the last of the smoking parchment came to rest. The moment seemed to stretch on forever until suddenly it broke- like a rubber band that had been stretched beyond its limits and snapped.

In an instant, everyone had their wands out and found themselves on their feet. It was impossible to say who threw the next curse, but within seconds everyone had been pulled into what was essentially a nine-on-nine duel. Slughorn's calls for them to 'cease' fell on deaf ears. Harry was just desperately trying to prevent his friends from getting seriously injured in the midst of so much wild spellfire. It was hard to say just how long it lasted- in the heat of the moment seconds can feel like hours but at the same time when you are so intensely focused minutes can slip by like seconds. It seemed that Slughorn had finally pulled his head out of his arse and intervened. Harry wasn't sure exactly what spell he used, but all of a sudden it was as though he had cast an Immobulus on everyone all at once. Unfortunately for some, that meant that they could not dodge the last few spells that were still whizzing through the air and a couple of them found their now frozen targets. Gretta toppled to the ground as a spell made contact with her and one of the Slytherin girls let out a hiss of pain from another.

Harry was frozen in a crouched position with his back to the professor, so he was left to listen to the man's heavy, hurried footsteps followed by the creak of old hinges. He guessed Slughorn had rushed to his office and felt as though his theory had been confirmed when a moment later, two sets of footsteps reentered the classroom- Slughorn's and a much lighter, but equally brisk set.

The instantly recognizable voice of Albus Dumbledore calmly said, "Perhaps you should summon Poppy as well," dismissing Slughorn to go and do just that. As the lumbering steps retreated once again, Dumbledore called, "Leema!" And the crack of House Elf apparition rang through the room.

"Yes, Headmasters, sir?" A high pitched voice asked eagerly. "How can Leema be helping you?"

"Please have Professor Rhys take over this morning's Transfiguration class and send Professor McGonagall to join us," he said pleasantly and with another crack the elf left.

Harry let out another mental curse. It was never a good sign when the Headmaster, two Heads of House, and the school's Mediwitch are forced to drop everything and come address a 'situation'. They were in a lot of trouble. He wouldn't have been all that surprised if the Aurors didn't decide to show up too- Harry just prayed that they wouldn't. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

Madam Pomfrey was the next to arrive, following Slughorn back into the room. She let out a gasp at the scene. Harry could only imagine what a sight they made- frozen in a mid-fight tableau. From his stuck position, he didn't have a great view. Taking their cue from Dumbledore, the two other staff members waited until McGonagall arrived a few minutes later, also emerging from Slughorn's office.

"What on earth?!" She gasped as she entered the room.

"Yes, Horace- I think we would all like to know what exactly transpired here this morning," Dumberdore said expectantly. And Slughorn gave them a quick rundown of what had happened (as far as he knew). There was a loud scraping noise that filled the room, followed by Dumbledore's voice, which had taken on a much more commanding tone, "In a moment, the spell holding you will be canceled. Everyone will immediately drop their wands and then, if you are able, proceed to one of the stools. You will not speak or otherwise interact with one another." If the students hadn't been frozen, they would have nodded. After letting the Headmaster's words sink in for a moment, the spell was lifted and everyone was able to move once again.

Unfortunately for Harry, after being stuck in the awkward crouching position he'd been caught in for so long, his bad leg seized up once again and refused to support his weight, causing him to topple over when he was released. But he was not the only one to fall- most everyone had been caught mid-movement and nearly half of the class were not able to catch themselves when suddenly allowed to move once again. There was a clatter as wands hit the floor. Slowly and silently- save for some huffed breaths- everyone pulled themselves to their feet and began making their ways to the stools that Harry could now see spaced about two meters apart along the walls of the classroom. It was almost reminiscent of sending small children to timeout.

After a minute, Harry was able to pull himself to his feet and noted that he was one of the last to do so. Gretta appeared to be unconscious, laying on the floor nearby with Pomfrey already looking over her. Neith was nearby as well, sitting up with a lethal expression on her face. Duff was off to one side, appearing to have been hit with a Tarantallegra which McGonagall was performing the countercurse to. Harry tried not to wince or limp as he made his way to one of the last open stools towards the back of the room. As he passed, Harry noted the various cuts and bruises (and in some cases boils) sported by the rest of the class. Remus looked like he had a nasty rash stretching across the left side of his face and neck and he caught a distinct whiff of singed hair as he passed by Rosamund.

Pomfrey and the Professors made quick work of taking care of the minor injuries after sending Leema to fetch some dittany and a selection of balms and creams. When Pomfrey got to Harry, she didn't even bother asking if he was injured- instead she just asked, "What happened?" Knowing that it was the best way to get some sense for what might be wrong.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, but at the matron's dubious look and then mildly incredulous glance around the room, as if to say, 'Are you really going to try and pull that shite? Look where we are. Try again.', he amended, "My leg was just sore from running yesterday. And I was standing on it funny when I was frozen. It was just a cramp- and it's better now."

Pomfrey hummed critically as she cast a Diagnostic charm on his leg. "And you didn't catch any curses? You're not secretly bleeding out anywhere?"

"No, ma'am," he assured her with a shake of his head.

"Very well," she sighed. "It does look like just a muscle strain. A few days rest should heal it right up, if you can manage. Stay off of it as much as possible- you know the drill."

"Hey- I've even been using the blasted cane," Harry huffed, pointing to the offending object lying in the mess on the floor. "It's not my fault that Potions class turned into a surprise agility exercise."

"Good," Pomfrey said, summoning the cane over and handing it to Harry, choosing to ignore his tone as well as the second half of his comment. She was there for medical purposes only- not to play judge or jury. She was more than happy to leave such things to her colleagues.

Once everyone was as healed up as they could be- with the exception of Gretta who Pomfrey had taken back to the hospital wing- the students found themselves being stared down by two profoundly displeased Heads of House and a surprisingly stoney-faced Dumbledore.

"You will all be given a chance to tell your side of the story before further punishments are set, but for now, at a minimum, everyone will be serving detention for the next two nights and every Saturday for the next month. The rest of this period will be spent cleaning up the mess you have made and setting Professor Slughorn's classroom to rights. You may leave when the job is done or when afternoon lessons begin- whichever comes first. If you have not finished by lessons, then you will all return here immediately after lessons and remain until the job is done, after which you will then still serve your full detention. Your wands will be returned to you at your afternoon lessons. Any further infractions for misuse of magic for the next month will result in immediate suspension and pending review for further recourse. What has occurred this morning is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Your Heads of House will be following up for further discussion and courses of action regarding this incident." And with one last sweep of his piercing gaze, Dumbledore strode out of the classroom, leaving behind the slightly stunned students and two angry teachers.

McGonagall and Slughorn had a brief, whispered discussion that ended with an exchange of short nods. McGonagall brandished her wand, creating a dividing line down the center of the classroom much like those Fortin uses in her own class to mark what was in and out of bounds during exercises.

"Gryffindor will be responsible for the left hand side of the room and Slytherin will be responsible for the right. Magic of any sort is not allowed. Your only cleaning tools will be soap, water, and these-" With another wave of her wand, Harry's heart sank as two piles of toothbrushes appeared- one on each side of the centerline. "There will be no talking and no slacking off. As the Headmaster said- you will all remain here until the work is satisfactorily completed, save for lessons, so get to it!" She snapped.

To Harry, the silence was the worse part. Sure, the scrubbing was not fun- especially when he was forced to do it with one hand still not totally up to the task- but it paled in comparison to the silence. The faint sound of bristles against stone and the occasional huff of annoyance or groan from those around him provided little reprieve. With all of the trouble that Harry had gotten into in his own time at Hogwarts, never had he received a punishment that made him feel quite so small. Being bent over, silently scrubbing was a little too reminiscent of his chores at the Dursleys with their ever-present 'pretend not to exist' stipulation.

Harry was so focused on his task and lost in his head that he missed the looks that were being sent his way and exchanged by the other Gryffindors. They too found this punishment particularly upsetting. However, that was because they found it a little too reminiscent of the last time Harry had been made to scrub the dungeon floors. Once he set to work, Harry took on that House-Elf-like quality and dedicated near-fervor for the task. And with the new bits and pieces that the others had since learned about his past, the further context only served to make the sight more nauseating. But there was nothing they could do about it right then other than work a little harder in the hopes that they could all be finished as soon as possible.

The problem was, Sirius had gone and made the damn slime as sticky and hard to clean as possible. The thought behind it had been to make it hell for the Slytherins to get it off of their robes and out of their hair, but he had not considered the impact this might have on them futilely attempting to scrape it off of the stone floor with nothing more than a toothbrush. Needless to say, it was slow going.

There was no clock in the room, so Harry had no way of telling time. It was anyone's guess how long they had been at work, but Harry would have wagered that they were well into lunch by the time that the Gryffindor half of the room was finished. After doing one last check to make sure everything was good on their side, Harry and the other Gryffindors exchanged silent looks of confirmation that the task was complete. The problem was that the Slytherin's side wasn't. They still had at least a quarter of it to go and the Slytherins seemed to be losing steam.

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes as he watched their inefficient work. He'd bet almost none of them had spent a single day even washing a dish, let alone properly scrubbing a floor. Seeing nothing for it, Harry shook his hands out one more time before heading over to the far side of the Slytherin's half of the room and once again setting to work. After a few seconds, someone cleared their throat rather loudly behind him, causing Harry to pause in his scrubbing and look around for the source of the conspicuous noise. What he found was just about everyone in the room staring at him- Gryffindors and Slytherins and professors alike. In response, Harry just shrugged and returned to cleaning. While he could see the argument for 'we've done our part, they should do theirs', Harry would rather they all got a chance to eat lunch, even if it meant doing a little more than his 'fair share'. The sooner it got done, the sooner they could all leave, so why needlessly prolong the punishment? He much preferred to just get it over with.

After another minute or so, the other Gryffindors slowly began to join him. At first it was Lily, who offered him a comforting smile that Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond to. Then Milli and Haleigh joined them, followed by James and Remus. Sirius and Peter were the last to cave, but eventually they too joined in finishing up the Sytherin's side of the room. With everyone working, they were done within a half hour.

As the students sat back on their heels, surveying the now sparkling floor and looking expectantly at their professors, McGonagall declared, "You will remain in the Great Hall after dinner to serve your first detention. Let me be very clear- there will be no further incidents today. Lessons begin in eleven minutes- do not be late." Slughorn gave a firm nod and a pointed look at his Slytherins to show a united front from the Heads of House.

Thank Merlin the Transfiguration classroom was fairly close to the Great Hall. The Gryffindors were able to run in and grab a few bits that they then tried not to choke on as they rushed down the corridor so as not to be late to class. Harry could only imagine McGonagall's fury if they had the audacity to be late to her class after what had already gone down that day. He was a little afraid to face her as it was.

Harry convinced his friends to run ahead so that they could grab food before class began. With the cane slowing him down, Harry wasn't sure he had enough time to make it all the way to the Great Hall and back, plus he really needed to use the loo. It was this last fact that persuaded Lily to join the others rather than hang back with him- she couldn't very well follow him into the bathroom and it didn't really make sense for her to miss lunch to stand in the corridor waiting for Harry to take a whiz.

So, Harry was rushing in hopes of making it to class on time. He was hurriedly washing his hands when he heard a snide voice from behind him say, "Pathetic." Looking up sharply, Harry made eye contact with none other than Regulus Black in the mirror. He narrowed his eyes.

"Piss off. I don't have time to deal with you today," Harry glared as he turned off the tap.

Regulus carried on as if Harry hadn't even spoken. "Though, I guess runts are known for their frailty. Or did you just find yourself missing the sympathy of the weak-willed, simpering, doe-eyed slags?"

Merlin, this kid was an arse! "Piss off," Harry repeated as he made to exit, not in the mood to listen to more of Regulus' vitriol just to be late for McGonagall's class.

"You should respect your betters!" Regulus said coldly and Harry felt something yank him backwards. His hand immediately groped for his wand, only for his brain to remind him that it was not there. Harry lost his footing and before he could catch himself, the side of his head connected with the porcelain of the sink.

Scrambling to get his bearings once he hit the floor, for a split second Harry panicked as his blurred vision refused to clear, thinking perhaps he'd hit his head much harder than he'd thought, but a moment later he realized that he was just no longer wearing his glasses.

"Truly pathetic," Regulus scoffed and a black blob loomed closer on Harry's right followed by a sharp pain in his side as the brat literally kicked him while he was down. As the boy went in for another hit, Harry lashed out, grabbing his shiny dress shoe, and gave the offending limb a fierce twist. Regulus let out a satisfying yelp and stumbled back.

"What? Didn't expect my pitiful little arms capable of lifting more than a feather?" Harry spat as he hauled himself to his feet, sending the best glare he could muster towards the blurry Slytherin. "Does it make you feel like a big man to attack unarmed people with their backs turned?"

"That is achieved by merely standing in your presence," he replied coolly, though Harry thought he detected the slightest tremor in his voice.

"At least your old material was a little more creative than just calling me short," Harry rolled his eyes. "And in case you hadn't looked in a mirror lately for fear of self-reflection, you're not exactly imposing either," Harry pointed out.

Regulus sniffed, "At least I am not useless and blind." With that, he turned sharply and strode out of the room. Harry heard a distinct crunch and knew that Regulus had just stepped firmly on his glasses. He then kicked them away, sending the bent frames skittering across the rough stone floor.

Once the door shut soundly behind Regulus, Harry let out a weary sigh. This day was really peachy wasn't it? After a couple of failed attempts at wandlessly summoning his glasses, Harry gave in and started a manual search. He felt like that cartoon character who was always losing her glasses on the telly. There he was crawling around on the floor thinking 'My glasses! I can't see without my glasses!' Loathsome as he was to admit that Regulus was right about anything, he did feel rather pathetic in that moment.

Eventually, Harry found them against the far wall. His wandless Reparo sadly also had no effect. Harry hadn't really held much hope that it would, but it was disappointing all the same. Harry leaned in close to the mirror to inspect himself as best he could. He wiped away the bit of blood that had leaked from the small cut on his temple from where his glasses had cut into him when they'd hit the edge of the sink. Luckily, he hadn't had a haircut since the summer, so his hair was long enough that he was able to arrange his fringe to cover the blemish.

Not seeing anything else obviously out of place, Harry took a deep breath and made his way out of the restroom, bracing himself to face an irate McGonagall. She had given them two instructions when she had dismissed them earlier- 1) no more incidents, and 2) not to be late to class. Harry had failed miserably on both fronts.

It was a good thing Harry knew the castle as well as he did, otherwise he may have spent the next few hours wandering the indistinct corridors hopelessly lost. It only took him a few minutes to make it the rest of the way to the Transfiguration classroom, but Harry supposed that he could use that as part of his excuse. He'd been wracking his brain to try and come up with a semi-plausible story for why he was late that wouldn't be nearly as incriminating as the truth.

With his apology well rehearsed, Harry eased open the door to the Transfiguration classroom and slipped inside. The atmosphere inside the room was tense and became even more so when McGonagall stopped her lecture and a heavy silence fell over the room as everyone turned to stare at him. Harry momentarily froze under the sudden scrutiny before searching for an empty seat.

"Mr. Doe," McGonagall snapped. "What part of 'do not be late' did you misinterpreted?"

Harry ducked his head. "I'm sorry Professor, I-"

"I do not want to hear your excuses! Twenty points from Gryffindor! Sit. Down," she said ominously.

Harry hesitated before quietly asking, "May I have my wand back, Professor?"

McGonagall looked almost taken aback by the audacity of the question. "What, pray tell, about your conduct has earned you the right to your wand?"

"I would just like to fix my glasses, ma'am," Harry said tentatively, showing her the broken frames in his hand. "You can have it back right after until you see fit- I just really can't see much without them."

"Explain," McGonagall said in a clipped tone.

"Um, well, everything's just really blurry and-"

"Not about that," the professor cut him off. "How did this happen?" She asked, gesturing at Harry's outstretched hand.

Harry swallowed nervously. "Oh, um, well, I kind of tripped and- uh- accidentally stepped on them." He looked down to give the impression of embarrassment. "The corridors all look so similar and I couldn't really see and- I got a little lost," Harry added. After a beat, Harry looked up and said, "If you could just tell me where there is an empty desk, I'll sit down. I'm sorry for interrupting your class, Professor."

McGonagall studied Harry for a moment. Ten minutes. She had let the boy out of her sight for barely ten minutes and he'd managed to find more trouble! The question was if she believed that that trouble was simply him versus gravity. He looked a little disheveled, which could have come about from falling and then frantically wandering the corridors. There was little doubt that the boy couldn't see properly given the way his myopic eyes appeared out of focus as they wandered the classroom straining to find an open seat. And Harry was not the type to make a scene- if he could have found his own seat, he surely would have just done so. With a sigh, McGonagall added this incident to the growing list of things to discuss with the boy later.

With a wave of her own wand, McGonagall mended Harry's glasses. "Third row on your left," McGonagall directed.

Harry quickly slid his glasses back on, relieved to have proper vision once again, and made his way over to the indicated empty desk next to Remus. He leaned a little more on his cane that was strictly necessary as he did so, just in case it helped sell his 'I tripped' story just a touch much more.

As McGonagall jumped back into her lecture as if she had never even been interrupted, Remus turned to face Harry with a searching look. Harry saw his nose twitch as Remus raised an eyebrow at him. Harry just shook his head and resolutely focused on McGonagall, ignoring the glances that the rest of the Gryffindors were also sending his way.

The remainder of class seemed to drag on. Harry felt bad for the unfortunate Hufflepuffs who were forced to bear McGonagall's punishment lecture merely because they shared class with the Gryffondors. The professor's foul mood continued throughout the entire period. She even went so far as to take away house points when Peter sneezed for him 'interrupting the lecture'. But for once, her lions were fully attentive all the way up to the final bell.

When the class finally ended and everyone moved to pack up their bags and bid a hasty retreat, McGonagall called out, "Gryfindors- you will remain in your seats. I will be speaking with each of you individually about today's events. There will be no talking. You may work on your school work or you may sit quietly. Mr. Black! My office- now."

Despite his trying to play it off, Harry could tell that underneath his cocky facade he was actually nervous as he slowly rose from the far end of the row and made his way across the room to the impatiently waiting professor. Harry saw her nostrils flare as Sirius passed by her and slouched into her office.

"No talking!" McGonagall warned them sternly one last time before following Sirius out of the room and closing her office door with an imposing thud behind her.

Once again, silence reigned. Harry lamented the loss of this book bag that morning as he was left with little to do other than stare blankly at the wall as he waited for his turn on the chopping block. After a minute or two, Harry felt a nudge and looked over to find Remus subtly shifting the parchment he'd been using to take notes on towards him. Written in the margin was one word.

Blood?

Remus raised his eyebrow once again as he glanced at Harry. Harry's hand instinctively shot up to the side of his head to see if the cut on his temple had started bleeding once again, but his fingers came away clean. Remus, having caught the gesture, moved to push Harry's hair back and take a look for himself, but Harry slapped his hand away, giving him a dirty look. Remus' brow wrinkled in concern before he scratched out: You hit your head? And shoved the parchment towards Harry once again. Harry just rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated shake of his head. Remus wrote: What happened? But Harry ignored him, barely sparing a glance at the parchment before turning to face away from Remus and refusing to look back at him or his little notes again.

Harry was just so over it at that point. It had been a shitty day and he was stuck sitting in stifling silence in the Transfiguration classroom for the foreseeable future. He was an awful combination of exhausted, irritated, and bored and he still had bloody detention with the Slytherins to look forward to later. He really didn't need Remus' silent interrogation or mother henning to use up his last nerve while the night was still so young.

Once Remus finally gave up trying to get a response from him, Harry decided to just put his head down and try and block everything out. Oh, wouldn't Snape be proud- he was finally trying to occlude! Harry listened as McGonagall's office door opened and closed, as she sharply called out for the next in line, and as his housemates shuffled off to their impending doom whilst others took dragging steps back to their seats. When Lily returned and Peter was summoned, it occurred to Harry that he should probably figure out what he was going to tell McGonagall. While he didn't agree with what Sirius did, Harry was also not a snitch. But seeing as how he was going to be the last of all of the Gryffindors to speak with McGonagall, there was actually likely very little he could say that she would not have already heard from multiple other people at this point. He decided to just stick with the bare facts. As long as they didn't kick him out, Harry was ready to deal with whatever punishment was coming his way- he just wanted to get on with it at this point.

Harry looked up as Remus was called, but avoided his gaze when the other boy tried to make eye contact with him. Not long after that, it was finally his turn. Harry watched as Remus retook his seat and wasn't sure how to interpret the apologetic look that he sent his way. Was McGonagall really that angry?

"Mr. Doe!" McGonagall called. She watched Harry critically as he made his way over.

McGonagall stepped aside to usher Harry into her office before she followed behind him, closing the door. Just after crossing the threshold however, Harry stopped short, surprised to find another person already inside of the office. Madam Pomfrey stood to the side of McGonagall's large wooden desk with an inscrutable expression.

"Sit down, Mr. Doe," McGonagall , not unkindly, as she maneuvered around Harry to reclaim her own seat behind the desk. As Harry hesitantly moved further into the room, McGonagall continued, "I asked Madam Pomfrey here to see to it that you are okay after the… fall you had. I should have ensured that you were not injured earlier- I do apologize for that oversight."

Harry was a bit taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. He had not anticipated this meeting starting out with McGonagall apologizing to him.

"Erm- That's alright. I'm fine ma'am," Harry said tentatively. "Sorry to have pulled you away, Madam Pomfrey."

"You didn't injure your leg? Or hit your head?" McGonagall asked shrewdly.

Remus had ratted him out- the bastard! That was what the apologetic look was for.

"As I said, I am fine. My leg is just the same as it was this morning. As for my head- it is just a small scratch from my glasses. Not something meriting a trip to the hospital wing," Harry explained as matter of factly as he could.

Pomfrey sighed. "And how, pray tell, did your glasses manage to cut you? Unless they became spontaneously sentient and grew claws, I would wager that such an occurrence would only come about from them meeting an unyielding surface while still on your face."

That statement took Harry a second to process before it clicked she had basically said, you landed on your face and your glasses tried to break your fall.

"Let me see," Pomfrey demanded as she stepped forward. Harry took off his glasses and pushed his hair back, turning his head to show her the little cut. "Did this happen when you hit the floor?" Pomfrey asked as she pulled out her wand.

"The sink, actually," Harry corrected, figuring that much honesty couldn't hurt.

"Any headache? Nausea? Dizziness? Blurred or double vision?"

"No. Well- at least no vision problems since I put my glasses back on," Harry said with the slightest hint of a joke.

Pomfrey did not look amused. Once she was satisfied that his head really was fine, she moved on to double check his leg. As she finished up, Pomfrey made a point of not letting Harry think he had somehow won this round by not being severely injured.

"You really must be careful with head injuries young man. Particularly in your case having had a severe concussion so recently, reinjury can happen more easily and cause more damage than if it were the first occurrence." Pomfrey gave Harry a hard look. "You know I would rather see you for every papercut between now and graduation than be forced to find out you are injured through someone else."

While Harry could theoretically get where she was coming from, he would have pointed out that it likely would have been ill-received if he'd skipped class to go to the hospital wing when he was not in fact in need of any real medical attention on that day in particular given just how thin of ice they were all on already. But he kept that thought to himself for much the same reasoning. No use digging the hole any deeper. Instead, he just said, "Yes ma'am," and bowed his head.

"Very well. I will leave you to it Minerva," Pomfrey said as she turned back towards the floo.

Before she could step into the flames, Harry asked, "Madam Pomfrey? Erh- How is Gretta doing? She wasn't hit by anything too bad, was she?"

Pomfrey turned back around with a slightly surprised look that shifted into something softer as she said, "Ms. Swothmore is recovering just fine. She will likely be released by dinnertime this evening." And with that, she exited.

Harry was just relieved to hear that Gretta was okay. He hadn't seen what she'd been hit with and had been worried about her all day.

"I'd like to hear your version of today's events, if you please, Mr. Doe. Starting from the very beginning," McGonagall prompted.

And so Harry told her flatly what happened with as little detail as possible while still not omitting anything too grossly. Every now and then McGonagall would interrupt to ask him for more details or a clarifying question here or there.

When she asked, "And why do you think Mr. Black suggested you go to Potions early today?" Harry had to take a moment to properly word his response.

"I don't like to engage in speculation, Professor. I feel it is only fair to judge based on facts, not hearsay. And I don't like to start rumors."

After giving Harry another hard look, McGonagall inclined her head and allowed him to move on in his recounting, which she had him continue all the way up until he arrived at her class that afternoon. The only thing Harry straight up lied about was what happened in the bathroom. He omitted Regulus entirely and just said that his wet hand slipped its grip on his cane and he fell, hitting his head on the sink and knocking off his glasses which he then claimed to have stepped on whilst searching for them.

Once Harry was finished, McGonagall let him stew for a minute before announcing her verdict.

"Based on how your account of the events of this morning lines up with the rest and that a review of your wand showed exclusively defensive spells having been cast, your punishment will stand as it was issued by the Headmaster this morning. You will serve detention along with the others tonight, tomorrow, and every Saturday for the next month. In addition, you will be on probation for one month's time wherein any infraction for misuse of magic will result in your immediate suspension and will bring this whole matter back under review pending further punitive action. I must impress on you the seriousness of this situation, Mr. Doe. There will be no leniency," McGonagall said solemnly.

Harry gave her a grave nod. He simply could not afford any more trouble for multiple reasons. For one, Merlin knew how much his actions could actually fuck up the timeline. For another, if he did end up getting suspended, what would he even do? Would they drop him off in muggle London to fend for himself until he was allowed to return? Would they just send him back into the Forbidden Forest? He knew he was being a little dramatic with that one, but it was still a valid concern.

Finally, McGonagall returned his wand to him. As Harry reentered the classroom, McGonagall officially dismissed them all. He didn't actually have any stuff he needed to grab, so he just kept walking and headed out the door, wanting to put all of what had happened that day as far behind him as possible.

"Harry! Wait up!" Someone called, but Harry ignored them. He really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment. He had used up all of his civility and restraint with Pomfrey and McGonagall- and he had zero desire to be pestered and asked even more questions and have to explain himself all over again. So he kept walking.

Unfortunately, his short legs and slowed pace were no match for the longer hurried strides of the others who soon caught with him.

"Harry- Wait-" Someone grabbed his shoulder and bodily turned him around. Harry found himself face to face with a concerned Remus. "Are you okay?"

All of a sudden, Harry found his ire tipping into anger and he snapped, "Piss off," brushing Remus' hand away with perhaps a bit more force than was called for.

"Hey- What'd he do to you?" Peter piped up in defense of his friend.

"He sold me out to McGonagall, that's what," Harry glared.

"What?" Milli asked as she caught up to them, shocked that Remus would do such a thing.

"Not cool, Remus," James said with a frown, also confused by the turn of events.

"I merely suggested that she might want to ensure that he wasn't injured before giving him the third degree. I- It looked like he might've been bleeding," Remus said infuriatingly calmly.

That statement brought the group's attention back to Harry.

"Come on- You're being a bit dramatic-"

Harry rounded on Sirius, cutting him off. "You don't get to talk! You're the one who got all of us into this mess!"

"Then you should be yelling at me, not Remi!" Sirius shouted, taking a step forward. "Merlin! You do this all the time! Quit lashing out at people that are just trying to help you."

"Oh, because you're such a pinnacle of decorum? You have the maturity of a first-year!"

"At least I go after people who deserve it!"

"I'm so sorry for not 'respecting my betters'," Harry spat.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Stop!" James shouted over both of them.

Harry turned his fierce glare on him. "I tried to walk away and you lot wouldn't let me. And now you don't want me to have it out. Well, those are your only options, so you better hurry up and choose because I am not about to stand here and play nice. And might I suggest the first option? The Blacks have already caused me enough trouble today- I'd really prefer to walk away before I hex someone and end up suspended," Harry said flatly.

While everyone was processing Harry's threat, Sirius surprised them all by suddenly lunging forward, grabbing Harry by the robes, and dragging him through a nearby doorway into an abandoned classroom. Harry let out a sound of protest, but he too was caught unawares by the move and was unable to stop Sirius from dragging him away.

By the time the others caught up with them, Sirius had already released Harry, but that didn't stop James and Remus from putting themselves physically in between the two, each giving Sirius a wary look.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked, sparing a look back towards Harry, who was fixing his robes after being manhandled.

"Fine," he grunted.

Sirius put his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender as his friends glared at him. He peered through the gap between James and Remus to look at Harry as he asked in a surprisingly calm, sincere voice that starkly contrasted his earlier tone, "What did Regulus do?"

Sharp intakes of breath could be heard throughout the room.

"Nothing. It was stupid. You were right- I shouldn't have said that," Harry tried to dismiss already feeling guilty about the outburst.

Sirius shook his head. "No. Tell me."

Harry's internal struggle was visible to everyone in the room as he mulled over what to say. Finally, with a long sigh, he seemed to deflate. "It really was stupid. He was just being a prick. I really just shouldn't have turned my back to him- especially when I didn't have my wand. I'm pretty sure it was an accident- he only meant to drag me backwards so that I was facing him while he insulted me, but I lost my balance and fell. Yes, I hit my head on the sink on the way down," Harry conceded with a meaningful look at Remus, "but it wasn't actually that hard- it just knocked my glasses off. I think he panicked though- or just didn't want to get caught. He was pretty quick to make his exit after that."

Sirius let out a low string of curses.

"But I know that that has nothing to do with you. It's just been a shitty day and that is only partially your fault," Harry told him, offering Sirius a half smile.

The gesture was not returned, though the look in Sirius' eyes did soften a bit. "I'm gonna-"

"Nothing," Harry stated firmly. He looked around the room, making eye contact with each of his friends in turn. "No more trouble. I mean it. And I know that that's some real 'pot calling the kettle black' coming from me, but McGonagall made it blatantly clear that we will be suspended- or worse- if there are any more infractions or incidents. I don't know about you lot, but I cannot afford to reach that point. If they kick me out, I have nowhere to go." Harry felt a touch bad about saying something so manipulative to essentially guilt his friends into compliance, but at the same time, it was also true. "And besides," he added, "I honestly think I walked away better off than he did. I don't need a wand to defend myself, mind you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was limping for the next few days…"

Gretta was anxiously waiting for them in the Great Hall. She was sitting alone at the far end of the table near the door with her back turned towards the rest of the house and a sour expression on her face. When the remainder of the Gryffindor 6th years entered the hall, an odd hush seemed to fall over the room for a moment before whispers and chatter buzzed, making the room sound like a disturbed beehive.

Harry sighed as they made their way over to Gretta. It seemed that word had spread and he was sure that the illustrious Hogwarts rumor mill had been hard at work all day cooking up more and more outrageous versions of that morning's events.

"You're late," Gretta griped. "And why'd you bring him?" She added with a scowl aimed at Sirius.

"Hey!" Sirius protested.

The others looked between the two and most of them just shrugged. While no one was particularly happy with Sirius at that moment, after the conversation about Regulus, a fraction of their ire had perhaps eased to the point where they were strongly displeased with him rather than furious.

Gretta frowned at their apparent apathy. "Food's cold," she said bitterly as everyone sat down.

Harry pulled out his wand and cast a quick Heating charm over the handful of dishes in front of them, causing steam to rise over them once again.

"You got your wand back?!" James gasped, causing Harry to look up and find many astonished faces staring back at him with wide eyes.

"Umm- Yeah? You guys didn't?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"No," James huffed while many others shook their heads.

"I did," Haleigh said a little timidly as she produced her own wand from within her robes.

"Me too," Remus admitted, showing them his wand as well.

"That's bogus!" James argued. "She's keeping mine hostage 'save for practical lessons' until I 'have proven capable of conducting myself properly and responsibly,'" he said in a lousy impression of McGonagall.

"Same!" Peter chipped in.

"Weird," Harry shrugged.

"I wonder if it had something to do with the specific spells we cast?" Remus pondered out loud. "McGonagall did mention that they only found evidence of defensive spells on my wand when she gave it back to me."

Harry looked around at the others' expressions, noting how they ranged from angry to guilty. "Wait- you all used aggressive spells?" He asked, a little shocked.

"You didn't?!" James asked incredulously.

"But they attacked us!" Sirius added.

"I was too busy trying to keep anyone from getting seriously hurt!" Harry snapped back before casting a slightly guilty and apologetic look towards Gretta.

Gretta just rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Harry. And it was neither your responsibility to keep me safe nor your fault that I got hurt, so don't you dare look at me with those eyes," she threatened. Harry's cheeks colored slightly as he looked down at the admonishment, causing Gretta to shake her head. "Besides, it was that slimy bitch who cursed me and this one that started the fight in the first place, so I blame them," she said matter-of-factly with another harsh look sent towards Sirius.

"Actually, it was Sn-" Sirius began, but Lily cut him off.

"Actually, it was you that couldn't resist poking the snakes until they attacked! What did you think was going to happen? That they were gonna calmly get up and slip and slide their way to their seats so that class could start? You are either dumb as a dung beetle or careless as a rampaging hippogriff and I can't decide which is worse!" Lily snarled. "You and your mates may have some idiotic agreement going, but the rest of us did not sign up for your bullshit. And we would appreciate you leaving us the hell out of it in the future!"

Sirius, for his part, actually looked slightly cowed by Lily's biting words. The remainder of the meal was spent in scarcely broken, tense silence. Thankfully there wasn't that much time left in dinner, so soon enough, the food was fading from the tables as the students trickled out of the hall. About fifteen minutes later, all that remained were a handful of professors and the 6th year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

The students were summoned to the front of the room by their Heads of House. The two groups converged before the head table where they stood on edge, awaiting their fate. McGonagall and Slughorn had such matching expressions of disapproval that Harry was left to wonder if they had rehearsed them together beforehand.

"For your detention this evening, you will be helping lighten the load for some of our most underappreciated members of the staff." McGonagall gave a grand sweep of her wand and a great scraping and rattle sounds echoed behind them throughout the hall.

Harry turned around along with the others to see the plates on the tables arranging themselves into large stacks.

"Every last cup, dish, utensil is to be scrubbed spotless- without magic," Slughorn said sternly. "Slytherin, you will be responsible for your own table as well as Ravenclaw's. Gryffindor, you will be responsible for your own and Hufflepuff's."

"I'm not a bloody house elf!" Shouted Pura.

"And yet you did not conduct yourself like a proper witch today either," McGonagall retorted. "Fifteen points from Slytherin for your language and speaking out of turn," she said with disdain. "This is not a negotiation. And I will see to it personally that tomorrow you will each be eating off of the dirtiest plate that you yourselves were responsible for cleaning tonight."

Looks of utter disgust crossed many faces at that. A loud crack echoed through the hall and a wrinkly, darker skinned elf appeared next to Slughorn.

"Kerkan here will be overseeing your detention. He will ensure that your work is up to Hogwarts' standards. You may leave when he declares the job done and not a moment sooner. He will not be doing the work for you, so do not ask. I suggest you get to it." And with that, McGonagall waved her wand once again, causing a series of large basins to appear on the tables along with a couple of stacks of dish towels.

Harry turned, sizing up the towering stacks of dishes and mounds of silverware collected on the tables. It looked like McGonagall had supplied them with four washing stations- two on each table- each equipped with a basin of soapy water, a scrubber, a basin of clean water, and a stack of dish towels.

"Reckon we should just pair off and the last person can just float and help out wherever they're needed?" Harry suggested, glancing back at the others.

"Sure," Sirius was quick to say before grabbing James by the arm and beginning to drag him off towards the closest station.

"No way!" Lily declared, stopping the boys in their tracks. "Both of you are scrubbing. We," she said, motioning towards herself and the other girls, "wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, so we will not be doing the worst jobs."

"Hey! I didn't do it- he did!" James protested, so willing to throw his best mate under the bus in order to save face in front of Lily.

"You were complicit," she dismissed.

James' shoulders slumped before he perked back up to ask, "Do you wanna be my towel girl?"

"Eww. No," she said, wrinkling her nose. James deflated once again.

"Okay, so, guys are doing the washing- but that still leaves an extra guy," Peter pointed out.

"Harry shouldn't have to do it either," Lily immediately responded.

Harry threw her a confused look. "Why not?" He was just as culpable as Remus at the very least if that was how they were apparently divvying up the labor.

There was a long pause where Lily failed to answer and everyone looked like they'd been caught in some sort of trap. Finally Harry just rolled his eyes. "Look, I'd rather we stop talking about it and get on with it. I'll probably be faster than the rest of you lot anyway since I'm guessing basically none of you have ever washed a dish before?" Harry asked, recalling his earlier thought much along the same lines. "I'd rather just get this done as quickly as possible. Remus- why don't you work with Sirius so that there is no more blood spilt tonight? You guys can take the far station. Peter and a volunteer can take the other Hufflepuff station. The rest of us will work here. You wanna make sure to scrub the plates while they are submerged- it'll make it easier to get the stuff off."

And with that, they all headed off to their now assigned stations. Haleigh was kind enough to volunteer to work with Peter. Milli settled for James which left Lily and Gretta to work with Harry. Arriving at the table, Harry rolled up his sleeves and set about his task with the usual dedication.

As Lily shook out one of the towels, she said, "I really don't mind switching, Harry. You're not the only one who's ever washed a dish before, you know- my parents are muggles." Lily's eyes traveled from Harry's scarred arm where it met the soapy water to the piles of dishes that awaited them. "My sister always hated doing the washing up, so that usually ended up being my chore. But I never really minded. The warm water is nice and I liked playing with the bubbles when I was little. Plus, it's oddly satisfying to have a clean kitchen when you're done."

"It's fine," Harry told her as he handed off the first clean plate.

"Okay… Well, just let me know if you wanna trade off later or something," she offered. Harry just gave a small nod in acknowledgement. After a short pause, Lily went on, "You're allowed to be angry, you know. I, personally, am right pissed at the moment and I believe that Gretta here shares in my sentiment. You can be mad at Sirius and Regulus for separate, but equally valid reasons."

"I know," Harry said, but it didn't sound very convincing- more resigned.

"And Sirius was off the mark yelling at you like that. You are also allowed to be mad at Remus, even if he was just trying to help. Your feelings are valid and you should be allowed to express them. Keeping things bottled up isn't healthy or productive. It's been a lot- and I'm not just talking about today," Lily added with a meaningful look. As she opened her mouth to continue, Harry cut her off.

"I get it," Harry said, a bit more harshly than he had intended. He tried again, "I mean, I hear what you're saying, and I appreciate it. I just- I don't want to talk about it anymore. Not tonight."

Lily snapped her mouth shut as color crept into her cheeks. Gretta snickered.

After a minute or two of silence, Harry found himself hating the quiet once again. "You know, I didn't mean that we couldn't talk. Just, about something else?" It came out as a question.

"Sure," Lily said quickly. "About what?" She asked hesitantly, not wanting to upset Harry again.

Harry groped around for a completely unrelated topic that they could use to pass the time and found one that he was genuinely interested in. "What do your parents do?" Harry was grateful for all of the time that he got to spend with the Potters, but he still knew virtually nothing about his mum's side of the family.

Lily looked a little surprised by the question, but eagerly took up the topic nonetheless. Soon she was rambling on. Harry learned that his grandmother worked as a receptionist at the local clinic and his grandad was a carpenter. Petunia had apparently started at university that year, so Lily was hoping that she would not be returning home that summer so that she could have the run of the house. They lived in a small town in the west and Lily's favorite thing to do growing up was to play down in the creek by her house. Apparently the forest there was beautiful in the fall. One of the neighbors kept a donkey that she liked to sneak snacks to through the fence. He found out that she had always wanted a pet, but her parents never allowed any sort of animal in the house. Lily couldn't wait to have a place of her own so that she could get one. And maybe one day if she had enough land she could get a donkey too.

Gretta made fun of her for having such a silly dream, but Harry thought it was brilliant. He made a mental note to find out if his parents ever had a pet (besides Padfoot) when he got back to his own time.

Harry asked Gretta about her family too and found out that she had two younger brothers, one of which was a 1st year Ravenclaw.

By the time that they finally finished their detention, it had been hours. Everyone was thoroughly exhausted and ready to crash. Once Kerkan dismissed them (while the Slytherins were still working), the group of weary Gryffindors dragged themselves up the many flights of stairs to Gryffindor tower. The guys and girls parted ways in the common room, each warily ascending the last few steps to their dorms.

Once they entered the dormitory, everyone immediately began getting ready for bed. Harry quickly shucked his now cold, damp robes before pulling out the t-shirt and sweats he usually slept in.

"That's a nasty bruise," Remus commented as Harry pulled his uniform shirt off.

Looking down, Harry found an ugly splotch covering the right side of his ribs. He quickly pulled his sleep shirt on. "It was the one and only shot he managed to get in," Harry admitted, knowing Remus was not likely to drop it without some explanation. "And it's not like I could've shown Pomfrey without having to explain myself. Especially with McGonagall listening in. And it's not like anything's broken- it'll heal just fine on its own."

Remus just shook his head, knowing that this was not a fight worth having.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said quietly from across the room.

Harry looked up to see the remorseful look on his face. "Don't be," Harry told him. "Not about this," he said, gesturing towards his side. "It's got nothing to do with you. He's been pissed at me since the quidditch match. You're not responsible for him. My cousin is an arsehole and I'd hate to think that I'm in any way liable for all of the people that he's kicked over the years." The words came out a bit apathetically, but still genuine. "If you're gonna bother apologizing to me, I'd rather it be for something you actually did- like tripping me this morning as a diversion so that you could set up your little 'prank'," Harry added bitterly.

As Sirius' expression shifted to one of guilt, Harry knew that his guess had been right. Of all of the shit that had happened that day, for some reason that small infraction really stung.

James, who had been tensely watching the exchange from beside his trunk, scrutinized Sirius for a moment before turning his back on him with a shake of his head and busying himself with digging for a change of clothes.

The only other words said that night was Sirius quietly repeating, "I'm sorry."

When Peter emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he found everyone else already in bed, but the still air did not carry the rhythmic breathing of sleep.

The following morning was awkward, to say the least. The guys wished Sirius a happy birthday, but the mood did not match the words. Sirius himself only offered a halfhearted, "Thanks," in response with a small smile that failed to reach his eyes.

They trudged down to breakfast, but kept their distance from the girls, not wanting to reinflame tensions. The meal passed quietly with the rest of the house whispering around them and shooting questioning looks their way. At ten til, Lily made her way over to join them for Care of Magical Creatures as Remus broke off to head to his own elective. Together, they made their way across the Entrance Hall to their temporary indoor Care of Magical Creatures classroom.

"Good morning," Barlow greeted, pleasant as always as they entered the room. "Today will be purely lecture, so I suggest you get comfortable," she warned with a smile. So they did just that, finding some seats and settling in.

Once the rest of the class arrived, Barlow began and it soon became apparent why today would be exclusively lecture with no practical element- the topic of that day's discussion was dementors. While they didn't really qualify as something that students needed to learn how to care for, per say, they definitely fell under the umbrella of creatures that every wizard should be aware of, so Barlow made sure to include them in her lessons, even if the Ministry would never ask a question about one on an exam. She warned about the effect they have and how they feed. She told them about the Patronus charm and even demonstrated her own which turned out to be some large bird of prey.

"It is nearly impossible to accurately describe what it feels like to be in the presence of a dementor without actually experiencing it for yourself. I, personally, have encountered a few at the Ministry that were escorting prisoners to and from court. It is a cold that goes so much deeper than you ever thought possible. Your thoughts are instantly consumed with hopelessness and misery so crushing that you feel as though you might as well lay down and never get up again. But that is also the interesting duality of dementors- they drive away any and all positive emotions, but it is precisely these positive emotions that fuel the very spell that repels them away. To cast a proper Patronus charm in the presence of a dementor is nothing like doing so in any other environment. It is like trying to jump a hurdle, but starting out in a two-meter deep hole rather than on ground level."

Harry almost laughed darkly at how accurate Barlow's slightly ridiculous metaphor was- only, he would argue that the hole was at least three meters deep.

Barlow went on, explaining a little more about the Patronus charm and how it worked before taking questions. When asked if she would be willing to teach them how to cast a Patronus, she told the student that they would be better served asking Professor Flitwick.

As class ended, Harry got up, but instead of making his way towards the door like the others, he headed up towards the front of the room.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked, turning around when she saw him moving away from the rest of them.

"I just wanted to talk to Barlow about something- I'll be right back," Harry promised before continuing towards the front. There were a couple of other students asking the professor their lingering questions, so Harry waited patiently for them to finish. As the last student left, Barlow turned, a little surprised to see Harry waiting to speak with her.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Doe?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry hesitated for an instant before committing to what he had to say. "Well, actually, I more had an offer for you," he told her. This statement most definitely piqued the professor's interest.

"Really?"

"Um- Yeah. I know that you are a fan of practical lessons whenever possible- and I know that this is more of a touchy subject- but I just wanted to offer- you know, for educational purposes- just so people can know what it's like-" Harry cut himself off, clearly not getting to the point of what he wanted to say. He took a deep breath before proceeding, "I wanted to let you know that my boggart is a dementor- in case you thought it might be beneficial for people to actually experience the effects of a dementor before they run into one in the real world. But, you know, in a more controlled setting."

Barlow looked shocked for a moment before saying, "That is a very… thoughtful offer. And one I will consider if you are truly willing to volunteer. For all they are joked about, I know how unpleasant and upsetting facing a boggart can be, let alone a dementor."

Harry shrugged. "I think you were right that someone cannot really understand the feeling until they experience it for themselves. Inaction is what gets most people in trouble when facing a dementor- you either need to summon a Patronus or run away as fast as possible, but people tend to just freeze. I know a real dementor is stronger than a boggart, but the boggart can at least provide a near approximation so that they can identify the feeling and try to shake themselves out of it at least enough to get moving. Using a boggart is how I first learned to cast a Patronus, so don't worry about that- it won't be bringing up bad memories or anything that hasn't already been thoroughly unsurfaced." The last part came out as a joke, but perhaps shouldn't have been one he said to one of his professors.

Barlow studied Harry critically. "You make a fair point. I'll see if I can track one down before our next class for a demonstration at the end of the lesson. You are, of course, free to change your mind at any point without need for explanation or apology."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry smiled.

"No, thank you," she smiled.

Harry met up with the others where they were lurking in the hallway and they had to hurry in order to make it to Defense on time. Thankfully there wasn't time for anyone to pester Harry about what he'd discussed with Barlow. When they arrived at the Defense classroom, they found Fortin already standing at the front of an otherwise empty room with a fierce expression of disapproval on her face. Her look alone was keeping the volatile students in line as they glared at one another, waiting for class to begin.

Just after Harry's group joined the rest, Fortin spoke.

"There will be no wand use in this class for the foreseeable future. All wands will be surrendered upon entry of my classroom and returned upon dismissal. Those of you currently in possession of your wand will hand them in now." Fortin stuck out her hand and waited impatiently for everyone to comply with her order. Harry, Haleigh, and Remus moved quickly to hand their wands over. Harry was a little surprised to see that Duff appeared to be the only Slytherin to also have gotten their wand back. "As demonstrated by your recent behavior, certain fundamental lessons have clearly been missed in your education thus far which we will now be rectifying." Fortin jabbed her wand forward and a pile of black fabric appeared in front of every student. "The rest of this lesson will be completed outdoors, so I recommend you all layer up. We will be leaving in three minutes," Fortin declared.

Upon further examination, the pile of black fabric actually consisted of a thick jacket, a hat, gloves, and even a pair of winter socks. Harry wasted no time in donning the new articles knowing that he was currently way underdressed to be spending the next hour and a half outside. It hadn't snowed recently, but that didn't mean it wasn't freezing cold out.

Just as he was pulling the gloves on, Fortin announced, "Time's up! We are leaving. Follow me. No talking." She led the way out of the classroom, down to the Entrance Hall, and out into the grounds. Once they rounded the side of the castle, it became evident where the professor was leading them. Some sort of large obstacle course- like the kind you'd see in a military training montage on the telly- was set up on the lawns. Fortin drew to a halt near to the closest obstacle.

"Your task today is simple- complete the course. You will be working in pairs. Once you and your partner have successfully navigated all of the obstacles and crossed the finish line, you are done for the day. With proper cooperation and coordination, you should be finished well before the bell, however, you will not be dismissed until the task is complete. It will be on you if you miss lunch or your afternoon lessons." Fortin then produced two hats instead of her usual one. From the right one, she called out "Avery!" and from the left, "Potter!"

James looked horrified and Avery was fuming.

"There will be no protests. Partners, come forward and line up once paired," Fortin said sternly. The two boys reluctantly made their ways forward. "Pura and Pettigrew!" Peter just looked embarrassed to have been paired with a girl while Pura looked down at him with disdain. "Hagit, Willus!" Haleigh hesitantly made her way forward to join the others. "Neith! Doe!" Harry cursed internally. He'd been debating which Slytherin he least wanted to be paired with once it became obvious that that was what was happening. He hadn't reached a firm conclusion yet, but she had definitely been a strong contender. But Harry steeled himself, squaring his shoulders he went to stand beside his new partner. Gretta and Duff were paired up along with Milli and Knotting, Remus and Rosamund. Sirius got assigned to Mulciber, which seemed like a doomed partnership if there ever was one. And lastly Lily was paired with Snape- the two avoided looking at one another as they took their spots in line.

Fortin swiped her wand once again and Harry felt a weight settle around his wrist. Looking down, his stomach turned when he realized that it was a smooth cuff, tethered to an identical one around Neith's own wrist. They had maybe a meter of slack between them, but that was it.

"For each obstacle you must go under, over, or through it. I will dismiss you once you and your partner have satisfactorily completed the entire course. All standard class rules are still in effect. You may begin." Fortin motioned towards the first obstacle, stepping back and off to the side to observe.

They all just stood there, looking around at one another and at the looming course. The first obstacle looked like a webbed net, but the holes were not small enough to climb through, so you would have to go up and over it. No one seemed eager to make the first move.

Harry sighed, "Let's just get this over with," as he turned around to make his way over to the net. He was stopped abruptly by a sharp tug on his arm. He turned back to glare at Neith.

"I will not be ordered around by a pathetic little elf like you," she hissed, crossing her arms and refusing to move.

"I didn't order you to do anything- the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and the sooner you will no longer be tied to a 'pathetic little elf like me,'" Harry bit back, shaking the tether between them for emphasis. This, keeping with the recent theme, was going to suck.

"You better not slow me down- I will not be carrying your dead weight," she huffed as she strode forward briskly towards the first obstacle.

A few of the other pairs had also started negotiations, be they with each other or the obstacle itself. Sirius and Mulciber looked just about ready to come to blows with one another.

"Mulciber! Black! Consider your next moves very carefully. Fighting will not get you separated, but it will get you bruised, making completion of the course that much harder," Fortin warned from the sidelines.

Harry tried to spare a sympathetic look towards his friends, but was prevented from doing so by another of Neith's sharp tugs at his arm. He stumbled, righting himself with a glare at the rude Slytherin. Neith was already climbing, so Harry hurried to catch up, knowing that she wasn't about to wait for him.

As they made their way up the ropes, Neith seemed to be going out of her way to yank at Harry's arm, which only served to slow both of them down.

After about the tenth time that she did it- this time almost causing Harry to lose his grip- Harry said in an exasperated tone, "You do realize that if I fall, you'll fall too?"

"Don't threaten me," she growled down at him.

"It's not a threat, it's a fact," Harry scowled. "We are connected." He gave his own pull on their tethered hands for emphasis.

"Keep up and it won't be a problem," she said coldly.

Thankfully they made it up and over the first obstacle without Neith managing to knock them off. The moment her feet hit the ground on the far side, Neith took off at a brisk jog towards the next one. Harry's leg was still not in top form, but he was not about to waste his breath kindly requesting that they go at a more moderate pace. Instead, he fell into step beside her clenching his jaw.

"It's not a race, you know," Harry couldn't help but quip.

Neith looked down her nose at him, curling her lip, before picking up her pace just that much more.

The next obstacle was a long stretch of wire (thankfully not barbed or razor this time), that they had to crawl underneath. Neith seemed rather reluctant to get down and dirty, as the task required.

"The only way out is through," Harry reminded her as he himself dropped down, giving her a little tug along the way. After another moment's hesitation, Neith joined him and they made their way through the second obstacle. On the other side, Neith took a minute to brush herself off and fix her clothes, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "Does it really matter? You're just gonna get dirty again."

"Of course someone like you couldn't possibly understand. Clearly you were raised by beasts. Not fit for the magic you stole."

"You don't even know my blood status," Harry pointed out. Not that it should matter, but if she was going to be a bigot, she should at the very least be logical about it.

She scoffed. "As if I needed to see a family tree- I can smell the mud in your veins. Bad breeding leads to deficient offspring."

This was by far the longest conversation Harry had ever managed with the girl and so far she had done nothing but cement his already poor impression of her. Merlin, she was a bitch.

"At least I'm not inbred for 'purity's' sake," Harry spat.

Neith whipped around so fast that Harry didn't have time to react before the side of his face was burning. She had actually slapped him.

"Don't speak of things you know nothing about!" She hissed into Harry's face. "And never insult my family."

"Thirty points from Slytherin! Neith- keep moving! And hands to yourself!" Fortin shouted and Harry felt Neith being physically pushed away from him by an invisible force.

Neith angrily spun on her heel before setting off again. Harry stumbled behind her, his brain still trying to catch up. He's been more surprised than actually hurt by the slap. He eyed the girl in front of him warily. It was a bold fucking move to slap him in the face in the middle of class like that and Harry was now wondering if perhaps he had underestimated the level of crazy he was tied to. He knew that she was smart and skilled and mean, but crazy- crazy was scary because it was unpredictable. That's what made Bellatrix so terrifying, wasn't it? At least with Voldemort, you usually know what you are going to get.

They soon arrived at the next obstacle which looked like a sort of balance beam over a bit of swampy water. Neith demanded that Harry go first, so he climbed up, opting to shuffle down the plank sideways in order to keep enough slack in the tether so that Neith wouldn't be pulling him over if she used her arms to catch her balance.

As he made his way across, Harry took a second to take stock of the other teams. There were actually only two groups ahead of them, neither of which were ones Harry would have pegged as 'good pairings'. James and Avery appeared to be essentially racing each other through the course, setting a fast pace as they tried to outdo one another. The other pair was Lily and Snape, who seemed to be working together in quiet efficiency. Harry watched as Milli and Knotting emerged from the second obstacle and immediately started heading in different directions only to be yanked back together when they reached the end of their tether. Sirius and Mulciber were still tangled in the ropes of the first obstacle, arguing.

"Hurry up," Neith said with a shove as they reached the end of the beam.

Luckily Harry had good balance, so he didn't fall, though he did take the opportunity to elbow Neith while he pretended to flail his arms about in a presumable attempt to catch his balance. "Sorry," he told her with a mockery of an apologetic smile.

Unfortunately, the next obstacle was one that would actually require a bit of teamwork to get through. There were a series of scattered stumps over another bog. Each stump was only big enough for one person to stand on, so they would have to choose a path that allowed for both of them to stay close enough together as well as jump from one stump to the next in unison in order to navigate their way across successfully.

Neith, however, clearly did not share in Harry's thought processes as she didn't even pause at the edge of the bog to consider her approach, but rather just kept right on going, leaping onto the nearest stump.

"Stop!" Harry called out as he scrambled onto the neighboring stump. "Hey! We need to actually think about this!" But Neith ignored him, pushing forward. They made it three more jumps before Harry knew they were gonna have a problem. "We need to go back and find a different route. These are getting too far apart."

"What? Don't think you can make it?" Neith said condescendingly.

"No- That's not the prob-" But then Neith lept onto the next stump in front of her, giving Harry no choice but to try and follow. His feet made contact with the landing, but the tether was pulled taut causing both Harry and Neith to overbalance and topple into the bog. Now sopping wet and pissed, the two of them glared daggers at each other as they pushed themselves up.

"I told you s-" Harry began, but he was cut off by Neith pulling his arm out from under him, sending him face-first back into the muck.

"You tell me nothing, half-breed!"

Harry spat out a mouthful of foul water. "Look who's muddy now too," he jibed, flinging a handful of sludge at Neith. "Better hope this doesn't get back to Voldy or he might kick you out of the club. You-"

There was a hissed, "Silencio!" And Harry was struck dumb.

The two found themselves, for a brief moment, frozen, laying flat down in the mud, staring at one another. Neith's eyes burned with a smug fury while Harry's were wide as his neck strained, his vocal cords attempting to produce the sounds his brain was telling them to, and failing. It took a long second for him to come to grips with the reality of what he'd heard and what was happening, and soon the only thought echoing around his head was, Where the hell did she get a wand? But then he heard something that sent a chill down to his bones-

"Imperio."

It felt like someone had turned a hairdryer on in his brain. It was an oddly warm sensation- neither distinctly pleasant or unpleasant- and it became hard to hear himself think over the odd buzzing sensation. Harry wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that Neith hadn't cast the spell correctly. On the one hand, it would probably be even easier to throw off this way, but on the other hand, that meant that she'd decided that now was a good time to branch out and dabble in Unforgivables, with Harry playing the role of her guinea pig. Merlin- she really was insane.

It took a few moments for Harry to even realize that she was trying to compel him into action. It was like the spell had bad reception and the commands were coming in spotty, faint, and distorted. Weighing his scant few options, Harry quickly came to the conclusion that he'd best play along for now. Be it intentional or not, Neith's attack had been rather effective. Throwing off the Imperius curse would still leave Harry mute and tethered to an even angrier, armed witch. There were no other groups close enough to get their attention and potential help. Clearly Fortin hadn't seen the incident play out or else she would have intervened already and Harry wasn't about to risk trying to draw her attention and praying that he got it before Neith did something else illegal and/or insane. Unfortunately, it seemed playing good little victim was his safest option for now.

So, Harry did his best to comply with what he thought Neith wanted. Making sure to keep his expression as blank as possible, he got to his feet and made his way over to Neith where she was attempting to wipe the filth off of her coat. She hardly spared him a sneer before turning her back on Harry and climbing back up onto the stump she'd previously occupied. A touch overconfident, are we? Harry rolled his eyes behind her. If Neith hadn't had a wand, Harry would have pushed her over right then just to prove a point.

Neith had Harry trudge through the bog as she hopped the last few steps to the far side of the obstacle. Then, she had him fall in step behind her as they jogged to the next. Harry was fairly certain her chosen command was heel- like he was a dog- which turned his stomach.

The next obstacle was a series of three stone walls, each slightly higher than the last. The first one was just a touch higher than Neith was tall- a little shy of two meters. Neith decided to use Harry as a step ladder to get over and then let him fend for himself to follow. Harry swallowed down his distaste as Neith left muddy shoe prints on his clasped hands and shoulder as he hoisted her. She then perched daintily atop the wall, impatiently waiting for Harry to 'catch up'. Harry liked to fancy himself someone not keen on violence against women, but the smug look on her face made him want to punch her. Harry was just tall enough that he could grasp the top of the wall with a vertical jump, the rough stones playing to his advantage as they allowed his trainers enough purchase that he was able to scramble up to the wall to join Neith.

They repeated the same process on the next, slightly taller wall, but this time Neith decided not to fully wait for Harry to 'catch up'. Instead, she opted to hop off the far side while Harry was still attempting to haul himself up the front. Harry's cry of, 'Don't!' was lost to the Silencio. Neith's heavier weight sliding down the other side caused a sudden jerk as the tether between the pair pulled tight, yanking Harry's arm up and making him lose his grip. Neith's momentum actually hoisted Harry- rather painfully- the rest of the way up the wall. However, the real problem came when he reached the top. As Harry attempted to catch and stabilize himself atop the wall, he discovered that the tether wasn't quite long enough to accommodate one partner at such a height while the other was on the ground. As Neith's feet hit the grass below, Harry felt a burning pain in his shoulder as his arm wrenched down and his body was forced to follow over the edge.

If he hadn't been silenced, Harry was pretty sure he would've made a rather undignified sound as he fell, landing in an ungraceful heap at the foot of the wall. It took Harry a moment to come back to himself as the wave of pain that crashed over him upon landing slowly receded. He became aware of Neith's scathing voice angrily hissing at him as he carefully pushed himself. Now leaning against the wall, Harry finally looked up just in time to see the wand that was being shoved in his face fly out of Neith's hand.

Before Harry's brain really had time to process what just happened, the girl before him toppled over, petrified. A long, shrill whistle blast sounded, drawing Harry's attention to his left where he was met with the sight of a visibly enraged Professor Fortin running towards them, wand drawn. He was so taken aback by the sight of their usually impassive professor that he didn't even notice the cuff vanishing from around his wrist.

"Everyone- return to the ground! Slytherins to the lake side of the course! Gryffindors, to the castle side!" Fortin called out in a magically amplified, commanding voice. Harry hoped that that instruction didn't apply to him because he didn't really feel like moving right then. When Fortin arrived at the walls, she asked in her normal, clipped tone, "Are you alright, Mr. Doe?" Though Harry thought he could detect just a hint of concern leaking through as her brows drew ever so slightly together.

For once, Harry could admit that no, he was not 'alright'. In fact, he was quite certain that his shoulder was dislocated. He shook his head in response.

"What happened?" Fortin asked as she visually assessed Harry for any obvious damage.

Harry just pointed up at the top of the wall behind him, then down at the ground beside him, then at his shoulder. Seeing his professor's confused look, Harry felt like an idiot. She was a fully capable witch! He then pointed at Neith's wand where it lay in the dirt a few meters away and then at his throat, shaking his head while mouthing, 'I can't talk'.

Harry saw the professor's eyes grow slightly wider in understanding before she slashed her wand in a downwards arch, presumably casting a silent Finite.

Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you, Professor."

"Is it just your arm that is injured?" Fortin continued, ignoring Harry's comment. He nodded. "Did she use any other spells on you besides the Silencio?"

Harry hesitated for just a fraction of a second before shaking his head again. While he didn't sympathize with Neith after what she had done, Harry also didn't want the girl sent to Azkaban for an impulsive and poorly executed mistake she made when she was sixteen. He tried to convince himself that since the curse hadn't really worked that somehow it didn't count. Hadn't he himself tried (and failed) to cast a Crucio at the Ministry? To lead the conversation away from furthering that line of questioning, Harry volunteered, "I think I just dislocated my shoulder. It hurts like a-" he caught himself, blushing slightly and looking away from Fortin. "It hurts." Harry left it at that.

Although Fortin's mouth made no move to indicate even the ghost of a smile, Harry thought he saw a touch of amusement glinting in her eyes at his near slip. She proceeded to cast a few diagnostic spells to ensure that nothing else was grossly wrong- Madam Pomfrey would still need to look him over with her more trained eye, but Fortin could at least rule out any spinal injury or broken bones.

Harry shifted his position against the wall in an attempt to sit up a little straighter, but quickly abandoned the attempt as his vision when white and painful spasms tore at the muscles in his arm. After fighting to get his breathing back under control, Harry made the firm decision not to try that again. He was pretty certain that he had a fairly high pain tolerance, but fuck that hurt. Harry was still fighting the dizziness when he caught the tail end of Fortin saying, "...to move." He guessed that she was just reiterating what he had already managed to sort of for himself.

A few minutes later, Harry heard the approach of many hurried footsteps. Soon Fortin was joined by the Headmaster as well as Hogwarts' two resident Aurors. Dumbledore had a deep frown creasing his usually jovial face as he approached, surveying the scene. Both Aurors had their wands drawn and seemed to be wavering between pointing them at Harry or Neith.

"Jara- what has happened?" Dumbledore asked briskly, doing away with his typical pleasantries and nonsense.

"I watched Mr. Doe fall from the wall and when I made my way over to ensure he was not injured, I found Ms. Neith with a wand drawn and pointed at Mr. Doe despite the fact that her wand is still in the possession of her Head of House and all wands brought today by other students were collected at the beginning of class. As for what happened before that point, Mr. Doe will have to share his side of the story," Fortin told them and all eyes shifted over to Harry.

Harry fought the urge to shrink under the scrutiny. Their oppressive stares where made that much worse by the fact that he was still sitting on the ground while all of the adults loomed over him from above. Harry swallowed nervously before telling them, "Well, I don't think she was very happy to be paired with me, but- whatever- we just had to make it through the course. But we were arguing a bit and she wasn't very, um, receptive to any of my suggestions. We fell into the bog back there and that's when she pulled out the wand. I don't know where she got it. But she Silencioed me before I could say anything or get anyone's attention. At that point I figured the safest thing to do was to just try and finish the course so that I could get away from her. I wasn't really sure what else she might do and I was unarmed, so I just went along. But then she jumped off the wall before I was over the top- and I fell. By the time I looked up, Professor Fortin was already disarming her," Harry finished, suppressing the urge to shrug.

Dumbledore hummed, turning his attention then towards the petrified Slytherin laying in the grass across from Harry. "Ms. Neith- Professor Fortin is going to release the Body Bind so that we may hear your side of things," he said in a calm, but stern voice.

"Liar!" Neith shouted the instant she was free, leaping to her feet and pointing accusingly at Harry. "It was his wand! He dropped it when he fell- I only picked it up to defend myself!" She turned towards Fortin with what Harry presumed was supposed to be a pleading expression. "Just like you taught us, Professor," she added more softly.

"Then why was Mr. Doe silenced when I arrived? Surely that wouldn't have been your first move after acquiring the wand?" Fortin asked with a raised eyebrow, unaffected by the Slytherin's words.

"He must have cast it on himself," she dismissed. "Didn't want to draw attention by yelling out when he fell." Harry could tell that it pained Neith to have to admit- even within her lie- that he was smart enough to do such a thing.

"Well, we should know after a proper examination of the wand who is-" Auror Pillmur began, summoning the discarded wand. But faster than Harry would've thought possible, Neith snatched the stick out of the air as it zoomed past and snapped it in two. Dead wands tell no tales, perhaps, but that move was rather incriminating in and of itself…

In the next blink, Neith was crumpling to the ground once again- this time, stunned. Harry stared wide-eyed as the Aurors rushed forward to restrain the unconscious girl.

There was undeniable grief in Dumbledore's eyes as he let out a sigh with a small shake of his head. "I will contact her parents, if you like," he offered the Aurors. "Hopefully that will give you enough time to draw up formal charges before they storm the Ministry along with their solicitors."

"That would be much appreciated, Headmaster," Pillmur said. "Would you mind if we borrowed your floo as well?"

"Of course," he allowed with a slight incline of his head.

"What has happened?" Harry heard the no-nonsense tone that could only belong to the school matron as she approached.

"Ms. Neith is only stunned, Poppy. And she is in Ministry custody now." Harry noticed the subtle stiffening of Pomfrey's posture at that news, but as always, she maintained her professionalism as Dumbledore continued, "I believe it is Mr. Doe that you have been requested to tend to."

Pomfrey whirled around, seemingly just then noticing Harry who was still slumped against the wall. He gave her a strained smile. Harry saw Promfrey's nostrils flare- though if the action was due to exasperation, anger, or fear, he couldn't say.

"I will go handle the rest of the students," Fortin said, turning towards the Headmaster. "I will instruct them to remain in their common rooms until further notice." After receiving a nod of agreement from Dumbledore, she headed off to deal with the others.

"Unless you require assistance Poppy, I believe we best be off too," Dumbledore said, though his resigned tone did not match his lighthearted phrasing.

"We will be fine, Albus," Pomfrey told him without turning to properly face the man. Dumbledore, however, did not look the least bit offended, giving one final nod before leading the two Aurors and the floating Slytherin back towards the castle.

"Sorry to drag you out of the castle for this one," Harry said as lightly as he could manage.

Pomfrey frowned slightly, shaking her head as she knelt down beside Harry. "What happened?" She asked as her wand got to work.

"Got yanked over the wall. Pretty sure I just dislocated my shoulder though."

Harry thought he heard Pomfrey mutter an exasperated, "'Just'," under her breath as she continued to wave her wand.

"Can you move your fingers?" Harry gave it a go, but stopped abruptly as even that slight movement kicked off another round of spasms. His face screwed up in pain as he breathed in sharply, waiting for the muscles to relax and give him a reprieve. "Do you think you'd be able to squeeze my hand at all?" Pomfrey continued. Harry shook his head, not quite trusting his voice just yet. "That's okay. Not to worry. It is most likely due to the swelling- maybe a pinched nerve. Both things we can get taken care of once the joint is back in place. Now, I am going to have to vanish your jacket and shirt to have a proper look and relocate the joint. Would you prefer we move into the castle for that portion?"

Harry shook his head again. "Can you just do it here?" He asked in a tight voice.

"I could, yes. But I would not be able to give you any Pain potion first either. Unfortunately I do not have any on my person," Pomfrey warned him.

"Already hurts... Rather get it over with... If that's okay…"

"If that is your preference," Pomfrey conceded. "Unfortunately, this is one of those things that magic has not found a workaround for yet, so we will have to do it the muggle way. It will likely be painful to reduce the dislocation, but once the joint is back in place it should feel a lot better. Let me know if it is too much and we need to stop at any point." Harry nodded in acknowledgement of all of that.

Madam Pomfrey then helped him get into a slightly better position before vanishing the top half of his clothes. The cold March air nipped hungrily at his exposed skin, causing an involuntary shiver that did nothing but aggravate Harry's shoulder. Pomfrey shed her cloak, sliding part of it behind Harry to help protect his back from the cold, rough stones behind him and draping the rest of it over his left arm and chest. Harry could tell she'd put a Warming charm on the garment as well, which he was quietly grateful for. It was those little details that made Pomfrey not just a competent healer, but a great mediwitch.

"Okay, Harry. Your job is to do your best to relax as much as possible. Deep breaths. There you go," Pomfrey said kindly. Harry couldn't help but tense as she gently took hold of his arm, but he closed his eyes and focused on allowing each muscle to unwind as he felt Pomfrey begin to apply light pressure.

Harry wasn't sure if it was seconds or minutes later that he felt the joint suddenly pop back into place, followed by a rush of relief as the stabbing pains ebbed away. Harry let out a long breath as he opened his eyes and thanked the matron. Pomfrey carefully laid his newly righted arm across his chest as she conjured up a sling.

"You are not to move that arm. While the shoulder is healing, it can be easily reinjured. Even simply raising your arm can cause it to dislocate again, and I don't think you want that to happen, hmm?" Pomfrey said warningly. "Now, let's get you back up to the castle. A few potions and I might even consider letting you go for afternoon lessons. Once we find you a new shirt, of course," she added.

Pomfrey helped Harry to stand, readjusting the cloak so that it was properly covering him now, and the pair set off towards the castle. As they began to climb the first flight of stairs, Harry broke the silence between them, no longer able to keep his burning question at bay.

"Madam Pomfrey-" He started hesitantly before plowing on, "Do you know why Neith was arrested?"

"I am unaware of the events of today besides what you have told me, so unfortunately, no, I do not." She spoke in a clipped tone, although Harry was fairly certain she was mad at the situation rather than specifically him. Or at least, that's what he hoped.

"I mean, I guess it was her fault that I fell, but that was no worse than a dozen other things that have happened this year and the Aurors were never called in before…" Pomfrey made a noise that might have been a grunt of disapproval.

"If you wouldn't mind recounting what happened, perhaps I can help sort out what was different this time?" Pomfrey offered. So as they climbed, Harry told her basically what he had told Dumbledore and the others, adding on the last bit through when the matron arrived. Once he finished, Pomfrey paused slightly before saying, "I take it you are not very familiar with Wizarding law?"

Harry felt affronted as a knee-jerk reaction to basically being called ignorant/stupid. "I know the basics of it," he said tersely.

Pomfrey ignored his tone, instead explaining, "Wand theft is considered a very serious crime in the wizarding world."

"But how did they know the wand was stolen? Couldn't she have just bought it or borrowed it?" Harry interrupted.

"Legally speaking, a witch or wizard is only allowed to have a single wand registered to them at any given time. Because of that, one cannot legally purchase a second wand without officially declaring the loss or destruction of their first one with the Ministry. Because Ms. Neith's wand was safely with her Head of House, we know that was not the case. As for borrowing it- yes, you can borrow a wand with the owner's consent. However, the act of willfully breaking the wand, as you described, would then be illegal- another serious crime. So either way, she was violating one law or another."

"She's not going to end up in Azkaban, is she?" Harry asked worriedly. To think he bothered to lie to keep her out of there just for her to get herself thrown in for something else was leaving a bitter taste in Harry's mouth.

"I doubt it," Pomfrey admitted. "Fortunately or unfortunately, the Neith's are a rather prominent and well off family with connections at the Ministry. And Ms. Neith is not of age quite yet, so I would be shocked if the repercussions were quite that severe. For someone not of age to be sent to Azkaban- I would expect the use of Unforgivables to be just about the only thing that could result in that," she said darkly.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not wanting to linger on that thought, he asked, "Why can a wizard only have one wand at a time?"

"That is a question which has challenged great thinkers for centuries. I am not well versed enough on the topic to know the exact subtleties of why. But in brief- are you familiar with the phrase, 'The wand chooses the wizard'?" Harry nodded. "It is generally believed that for every witch and wizard, there is one wand created that is a perfect match. How that balance is created and maintained is getting into theory on which I am not qualified to speculate, but this is why wand theft- or destruction- is so serious. It disrupts the intricate balance of magic. Owning a second wand means that you are depriving someone else of their perfect match, and that person is then doing so to another when they satisfice for another wand, and so on. The ripple effect can be massive."

They had reached the hospital wing by the time Madam Pomfrey had finished her explanation. Thinking back to the incident he'd had with Mulciber, Harry realized just how much he'd dodged a bullet and found himself a little surprised that Auror Monroe hadn't been more persistent about the potential wand theft. But he was not about to bring it up just to ask. He knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Pomfrey dropped Harry off at one of the beds in the sparsely populated wing before heading to the back to gather the aforementioned potions. Upon her return, Harry dutifully drank them. Pomfrey even healed the bruise that Regulus had left on his side. Harry could tell by her pursed lips that the matron knew that the injury hadn't been caused by anything recent, but she didn't press him about it as she finished her work before heading off to check in on her other patients. Soon Harry could actually feel the swelling in his shoulder start to go down as the magical brews did their work.

A little while later, Harry looked up from his lunch at the sound of the infirmary doors swinging open. To his surprise, Dumbledore strode into the wing, coming to a stop in front of Harry's bed.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal, Mr. Doe, but would you mind if I join you?" He asked, back to his kindly grandpa ways- a stark contrast from the stormy expression he'd had earlier that morning.

"No- I mean, please, Professor," Harry fumbled.

Dumbledore smiled congenially before conjuring a violently green armchair beside Harry's bed and settling himself comfortably into it.

"Sour cherry?" He offered, popping open a small tin and plucking out a red candy before extending the tin towards Harry.

"Uh- no thank you, sir," Harry said.

"Ahh, perhaps after your meal would make more sense. Though- I do find unexpected flavor combinations to be oddly delightful upon occasion. Though discovering them can be risky business that doesn't pay off more often than not." Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't. After a moment Dumbledore's face turned more solemn as he continued on, "I fear I must issue you another apology. And I regret that I must do so under such similar circumstances as well. Hogwarts is meant to be a safe place for all, but that has proven to unfortunately no longer be the case despite our best efforts. And you personally have suffered for our shortcomings. We promised you sanctuary and then failed to provide it and for that I am truly sorry. In addition to my apology, I also wished to personally inform you that Ms. Neith has been expelled and will not be returning to Hogwarts no matter the outcome of the Ministry's investigation."

Harry took a minute to digest that information. He wasn't really sure how he felt about it. Relieved? Shocked? Worried? Did he even want her expelled?

"But I didn't get hurt because she had a wand," Harry said hesitantly, not sure what he was arguing even as the words left his mouth.

"Perhaps not directly, but you were put in a dangerous position which then resulted in injury. Could things have gone worse? Oh, most certainly. But simply because those scenarios did not play out does not mean that they are not just as likely to occur as the reality which did."

It was like Dumbledore was trying to give him a headache. "So she's being punished for something that she didn't do?" Harry asked, utterly confused at that point.

"No. She has been punished for severely breaking a clearly laid out rule and violating the magical probation you all were put on just yesterday. She will be punished for breaking the law," Dumbledore explained calmly. "The point I was merely trying to make was that we, the staff, need to be more proactive in preventing situations like this from occurring as the next one could result in an even less desirable outcome. I wanted to reassure you that we do not plan to sit idly by as the situation deteriorates. At the very least, this time I can say that the guilty party has been caught and punished."

"But sir- I think you and I both know that this wasn't- isn't- about Neith. With her gone, someone else will just take her place. It's about who gave her that wand and why. Your staff cannot control that. While I appreciate the effort, I do not need your false assurances. Do I think there is room for improvement in this school? Of course. Do I think that it is worth frisking students to ensure no one has any contraband? No, I don't. There are outside influences at play that a change in school policy will not affect. But we have been given an impossible job and all we can do is our best. My shoulder will heal just like everything else has. Next week I'm sure I'll face some angry Slytherins who'll think it was my fault that Neith got herself arrested. Hogwarts Student in Ministry Custody can't be a headline you're looking forward to either. But we'll face it and move on. Adapt. Sometimes our best is not good enough, but that's why we try again, you know? Expecting perfection or your problems to just magically go away is a recipe for disappointment. I'm just grateful that you didn't throw me out on my arse the first day I arrived. Like you said- things can always be worse. At least you're trying to make them better, so thank you for that." Harry realized too late that he was rambling, but when he finished, Dumbledore had a contemplative look on his face.

"That, my boy, is one thing I vow to always do. Trying, it seems, has become somewhat underrated, but I do hope it will make a comeback," Dumbledore said with a hint of his usual twinkle returning as well. "If ever you wish to talk further, please remember that my door is always open." The Headmaster rose from his plush chair, straightening his dark, tie-dye robes- they were almost subtle for the old man's typical taste. "Sour cherry?" He offered Harry again.

Pomfrey remained true to her word and released Harry just in time to make it to his afternoon lesson. He arrived at the greenhouses just as the gathered students were shuffling into the steamy classroom. Harry snuck in just before the doors closed at the tail end of the group. Making his way along the back wall, Harry was surprised to find Lily and Gretta crowded around their usual table along with the other boys. The Gryffindors all had their heads bowed together in a whispered discussion while the rest of the class shot them sideways glances.

As he approached, Harry caught a snippet of their hushed conversation.

"I already told you- McGonagall would've told us if it was bad."

"But why didn't she tell us anything? That's way more suspicious."

"You don't think-"

"Don't even say it!"

"We've gone over this!"

"You better not be starting rumors that I'm dead again," Harry said dryly, causing everyone to jump and whirl around. He was met with a variety of expressions ranging from shocked to tearful to utterly relieved. He'd meant it as a joke, but judging by the looks on some of their faces, the thought may have actually crossed some of their minds.

"Harry!"

"Are you okay?!"

"What happened?!"

"Merlin! Don't do that-"

Everyone spoke at once and the words all jumbled together, but Harry could guess what the main themes were.

"I'm fine. You know Pomfrey would never have let me go otherwise," he started off with. "I'll tell you the rest later," he added in a slightly lower voice, subtly glancing around at their less-than-subtle classmates blatantly trying to listen in. Any potential protests from the others were cut off by Professor Kerner starting the lesson.

An hour and a half later, the Gryffindors were dragging their feet cleaning up their station in the greenhouse, letting everyone else leave, hurrying off to their next classes. As they finally made their way out of the greenhouse, Remus suggested that they take a walk around the lake before heading back up to the castle and everyone readily agreed. Harry knew that it was just an excuse for a little extra privacy as he was forced to answer all of the questions that had been burning on the tips of his friends tongues since he turned up in Herbology.

Shockingly, they held their silence the entire way down to the lake. Only once they reached the rocky shore did Harry let out a sigh, knowing he'd pushed it off as long as he could, and told the others, "Everyone gets one question, so use it wisely."

Again, Harry's friends surprised him by seeming to take his threat seriously. The questions didn't come pouring out at him like before, but rather everyone seemed to be contemplating how best to use their one chip.

After a few beats as they walked along the water's edge heading towards the forest, Remus started off with a broad, but basic question. "What happened?"

"How much did you see?" Harry countered, just so that he could know how much he was going to have to explain and what the inevitable rumors were going to be based on.

"We were all pretty wrapped up in dealing with our own Slytherins until Fortin called it off, so not much. Of course we realized that you didn't regroup with the rest of us, and then we saw Dumbledore and the Aurors show up, and then Pomfrey a little later. And we saw them levitate Neith away when we were sent back to the common room. That's pretty much it. McGonagall just showed up later and sent us to lunch. The Slytherins never turned up though," Remus said.

Harry gave them the light version of events. "I don't know what she was thinking," Harry shook his head. "I don't even know if she was thinking at a certain point- at least not logically. If Fortin hadn't seen me fall, she probably could've gotten away with it, you know? I thought she was smarter than that."

"So, what happened to Neith?" Peter asked.

"Dumbledore told me she's been expelled, and Pillmur basically arrested her after she was stunned, so I guess she's at the mercy of the Ministry now," Harry shrugged.

"What I don't get is why she pulled her wand out in the first place?" Gretta frowned.

Harry avoided looking at anyone as his free hand wandered up to tug at his hair. The gesture began as an attempt to cover his scar, but had generalized into a nervous habit. The omission of that particular detail from his initial recounting had been rather intentional. "We had been trading insults a bit, but I think she, uhh, didn't take very kindly to my comment about her being just as 'muddy' as I was- and that the Death Eaters would likely frown upon such things." He knew better than to start throwing around the V-word right then.

"Harry!" Lily scolded as Sirius looked to be physically fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

Sirius settled for an angrily muttered, "Idiot."

"You know I hate to agree with Black on anything, but for once I think he's on the right track," Gretta said with a shake of her head.

"What did we tell you about watching what you say about that shit?!" James snapped, unable to contain himself.

"Is that your question?" Harry asked tiredly, but with a hint of a smile, finally looking up to make eye contact with James.

"No," James said hurriedly, not wanting to waste his one and only question like that. There was a long pause as James contemplated before settling on: "My question is: Will you please be more careful about it in the future?"

Honesty is supposedly the best policy, right? "Probably not," Harry shrugged. At the hurt look on James' face, Harry sighed. "Come on- we've already had this discussion, mate. You know where I stand and I'm sorry if you don't like it, but it's not likely going to change any time soon."

"But you couldn't have picked a worse time to take a stand for your bloody principle's sake!" Sirius said emphatically.

"Why should I have to suck it up for your comfort?" Harry retorted.

"It's not for my comfort- it's for your safety!" Sirius snapped back. "Even if she really hadn't had a wand, Neith still could've just tried to drown you in the bog instead. And you don't seem to be considering that a potential issue for some Merlin-forsaken reason!"

"Of course I've considered it!" Harry said firmly. "Despite what you may think, I'm not actually an idiot. Was it perhaps a little petty? Yes. But she was being a bigoted arse. It's not that I was unaware of potential retaliation or that I don't give a shit about my own personal safety, as you lot seem to believe- it's that principles exist despite those considerations. That's what makes it a bloody principle! If someone is going to walk, talk, and act like a Death Eater, then I'm going to call them a bloody Death Eater. If they don't want to be called that, then that's up to them to change. Not calling them out is doing them a service and I, for one, refuse to do anything to help their bloody 'cause'."

A long silence greeted the last of Harry's words. Harry turned around and stared blankly at the lake as he pulled himself a little more together. This discussion had really gone sideways, hadn't it? And not even in the way Harry had expected it to either. Brilliant.

Lily's gentle voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts. "How do you feel about what happened?" The depth of her question was reflected in the honest and searching look in her eyes as Harry turned towards Lily.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. Thinking out loud, he went on, "It was a stupid reason for there to finally be some real consequences doled out. And for some reason I actually feel a little bad for Neith. Not that she didn't make her own bed or doesn't deserve to lie in it- but she's 16 and just blew up her life in the span of about 15 minutes. And I feel like everyone is missing the point- it's like Al Capone getting caught on tax evasion. Technically justice is being served, but not for the right crime, you know? It's just complicated and confusing and exhausting to think about. And I'm pissed that I feel guilty about shit that I know I didn't do! Everything that happened was her own damn fault." The last bit came out more dejected than Harry had meant for it to.

"That's because you're a good person," Lily said softly. "Most people are content- or happy even- to watch their enemies suffer. But you are able to empathize- even though the two of you are absolutely nothing alike. It's kind of amazing."

"It sucks," Harry corrected.

Lily snorted. "Maybe it doesn't feel great all of the time, but a person without empathy is a psychopath- so I'd hold off on disowning yours just yet," she jibed. "But it's also not worth driving yourself crazy over it," she added. "Feel however you're gonna feel, but then acknowledge that it wasn't your fault in the first place and that you have no control over what happens next. Things are going to play out however they do because a hundred different people make a million different decisions."

A small frown creased Harry's face. It was easy enough for her to say, 'Just let it go.' In his personal experience that was much harder in practice.

"Okay, Sirius- you're the only one left. What's your question?" Harry was officially cold and ready to be done with this conversation. Besides, Haleigh and Milli were probably wondering where they were and it was rude to keep them waiting all night.

Sirius looked Harry up and down and then raised an eyebrow. "What didn't you tell us?" he asked with a smirk.

"What?" Harry said, taken aback.

Sirius folded his arms resolutely. "You've got a tricky habit of telling the truth, but not the whole truth. There's almost always more that you tend to let on. I wanna know what you 'forgot' and/or failed to mention."

Harry and Sirius had a staring contest for the ages, but Sirius was willing to stand there all day, letting his eyes turn into Shrivelfigs if he had to. He was not about to back down- especially since Harry's reaction to his question had basically confirmed his suspicions. Eventually, Harry broke eye contact, his gaze falling to the ground.

His eyes then roamed the group as he shook his head. "That is gonna fall into the category of 'illegal shit that if I tell you you have to swear not to tell anyone'. And if you can't agree to that, then you can walk away with no hard feelings." Unsurprisingly, no one moved. Peter actually leaned forward in anticipation. Harry took one last steadying breath before plunging right in, saying, "Neith tried to Imperius me."

It was almost funny how there was literally a collective gasp at the revelation.

"Wait- What do you mean, 'tired'?" Remus asked after a moment.

"I mean she did a shite job, so the curse didn't work properly. I don't think she'd actually done it before. She didn't quite cast it right."

"How did it feel?" Peter asked curiously and without tact.

"Like we had a bad connection," Harry said, but it was clear by the confused expressions he received that his choice in phrasing was too muggle- or perhaps too modern- to be helpful. He tried again with a more basic explanation. "Properly cast, the curse wipes your mind completely blank and then the caster just suggests you do things and since there's nothing else in your head to counter the suggestions, you feel inclined to do them. When Neith cast it, it didn't wipe my brain- it just introduced more noise. It was hard to tell even what she was asking me to do most of the time. A real Imperius feels rather pleasant- if you ignore the fact that it turns you into a human puppet- but Neith's was like having a fly buzzing around in your brain- rather annoying."

"Did it hurt?" Gretta asked with wide eyes.

"No. Like I said- it was more annoying than anything. Plus it was a lot easier to ignore than a properly cast curse."

"So you were able to just throw it off?" Gretta clarified.

"Well, I didn't fully throw it off. I needed to know what she wanted me to do so that I could play along. Because at that point I knew she was fucking crazy- and because I do have some semblance of self preservation- I figured that was the best way to, uhh, minimize the damage going forward. Survive to the end of the course so that Fortin would release us and then get as far away from her as humanly possible. That was the plan, at least."

"But then she mucked it up," Sirius said, putting the pieces together.

"Pretty much," Harry nodded.

"So is that actually why she was arrested?" Lily asked with a brow furrowed.

"No. I didn't tell them about the Imperius." This time, Sirius really did smack Harry upside the back of the head. "Ow! Hey! What the-?"

"What part of 'Unforgivable' do you not understand?" Sirius glared.

"But it didn't even work-"

"And if I tried to stab someone, but missed because I have shite aim- does that mean that suddenly I didn't try to commit a murder?" He countered. "No, it doesn't," Sirius went on, answering his own question. "It's still just as bad. And illegal!"

"She's already being punished. I don't need to make things any worse. Besides- there's no evidence. It'd just be my word against hers." It was kind of a kitchen sink argument, but Harry thought each reason valid in its own right.

"Harry-" Lily began and her tone, although likely not meant to be condescending, made Harry feel like he was about to be spoken to as if he were a small child who just didn't understand what the adults were saying.

"No," Harry cut her off sharply. "This is exactly why I left it out in the first place! You lot can't have it both ways. I'm done talking about it. It's over and done and I'm moving on, right? Letting it go."

"What if she'd done it to one of us?" James challenged.

Harry turned towards him, his anger from just a second earlier drained away leaving behind a tired expression. "Then it would be your decision to make." Harry's eyes held such grief that James nearly stumbled back. "There are very few people I think genuinely deserve Azkaban-" Harry said earnestly, "and she's just not one of them." Not yet, he added inside his head.

Things were quiet as the Gryffindors returned to the castle and bided their time until dinner. They were met by a concerned Haleigh and Milli in their usual abandoned classroom, but sensing the tense atmosphere, they quickly stifled the questions desperately hanging on their lips.

Despite the fact that it was Friday, Harry made his way to one of the tables on the far side of the room, intent on starting his homework as a means of distraction from the whispered conversations that were breaking out among the others. However, after Harry sat down he found himself staring at the blank table top before him. He'd briefly forgotten that he no longer had a bag from which he could produce some distracting schoolwork.

"Mind if I join you?" Harry started slightly, blinking himself out of his thoughts to find Remus standing beside the chair across from him with a relaxed smile on his face. Harry gave him a nod and the other boy settled in, quietly pulling out his Charms homework. After a few minutes, he looked up to find Harry still watching him work.

At Remus' raised eyebrow, Harry nervously asked, "You wouldn't happen to have your Transfiguration textbook on you, would you?"

Remus shook his head. "Sorry mate- I only brought Charms and Herbology with me."

"Oh, then would you mind if I borrowed your Herbology book?"

"Why?" Remus asked, confused. Harry had never shown much interest in the subject beyond the obligatory coursework- besides, they had both just come from that class. "Not that I mind," he added hurriedly, seeing Harry sink a little in his chair at the question.

As Remus handed the book over, Harry shrugged. "Might as well do something productive- and Herbology is slightly more entertaining than watching you read or staring at the wall."

"Did nobody bring you your stuff?" Everyone else's bags had been waiting for them in the common room when they arrived after being shepherded off after Defence had been cut short that morning.

"My bag went up in flames yesterday, remember?" Harry made a little mock explosion with his hands for dramatic effect. "I didn't bother lugging any textbooks around this morning because Barlow and Fortin never have us use them during class. And I didn't have time to run up to the tower before Herbology."

"Oh, right." Remus felt a little ashamed for having forgotten. Not that it was an unreasonable thing to have slipped through the cracks- there had been a lot going on- but it was just one more thing that made this even harder for Harry than the rest. The kid that owned like six things now only had five. And if he recalled correctly, there had been a few textbooks and other supplies that they'd helped pick up off of the classroom floor that morning that had likely become casualties as well. "Well, as you know- there are more textbooks than brains in our dorm, so I'm sure someone will be more than willing to lend you a copy if you ever need it."

Harry let out a snort.

A slightly frazzled looking Head Girl stopped by the Gryffindor table to let the 6th years know that they were to report to the Muggle Studies classroom after dinner to serve their next detention before hurrying out of the hall.

In all of his time at Hogwarts, Harry had never actually set foot inside of the Muggle Studies room. Being muggle-raised, he's laughed at the idea of taking the class when it had come up in his third year and he's never had any other reason to seek out the room. Apparently, the classroom was located on the second floor- basically above the Transfiguration classroom on the next floor up. The room itself was smaller than any other classroom he'd been in in the castle. The tables spaced around the room reminded Harry of those in a science lab, though they were made of polished wood rather than the fancy, heat-resistant whatever that real lab tables were made of.

As the Gryffindors entered the room, the tables suddenly jumped and moved, sliding away from one another (as they had been set up in pairs, presumably for group work) until they all settled into perfectly neat, separate rows, each with just one chair at it, despite the fact that they could comfortably seat two.

"Sit!" A few people jumped, having not noticed the witch who had been standing in the murky shadows at the front of the classroom. She was young- especially for a Hogwarts professor- with a round face and intelligent eyes that seemed slightly dulled. They all promptly complied, scattering to claim seats. "My name is Professor Ricmod. I will be overseeing your detention tonight. You will each write," she paused to flick her wand and words appeared on the chalkboard beside her, "100 times. Once you have satisfactorily completed this, you may leave." With another wave of her wand, sheets of parchment flew out and distributed themselves to each student. "Begin."

Squinting in the dim candlelight, Harry could just make out what the lines on the chalkboard said.

I am responsible for my choices, actions, and reactions. I will employ critical thinking when determining how to conduct myself.

Looking down at the blank parchment glaring up at him from the desk, Harry realized he had a problem. Or two. After a moment of frantic thinking that got him nowhere, Harry resigned himself and hesitantly raised his hand as the sound of scratching quills filled the air.

"Yes, Mr…?" Ricmod asked in a weary voice when she noticed Harry's hand.

"Doe," Harry supplied, trying not to fidget under the professor's gaze.

"What is it, Mr. Doe?" She sighed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm- uhh- I'm not left-handed," Harry said, motioning towards his right arm that was still in a sling.

Ricmod brought a hand up to rub tiredly at her face, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly before saying, "Can you… try?" Coupled with her body language, it came out almost pleading.

And Harry could sympathize with her. Clearly she had gotten stuck supervising their detention, which he's sure is the last thing most professors want to be doing on a Friday night. And here he was making things harder than they should have been, basically requesting an alternative detention to the one assigned. He really wasn't trying to be difficult.

Harry just nodded, before pausing to add, "I didn't bring a quill or ink with me, ma'am."

The professor sent the additional supplies over to his desk. Once she saw Harry reaching out for the quill, she turned and sank down into the chair behind her desk, propping up her elbows and leaning into her folded hands with a far away look of contemplation on her face.

Harry's hand shook ever so slightly as he grasped the quill. His mind couldn't help but remind him of just what happened the last time a professor had supplied him with a quill to complete lines with. Logically, he knew that this was completely different, but his body's instincts fought with his reason. His right hand clenched almost painfully as the tip of the quill made contact with the rough parchment. His first attempt was basically illegible and his second was not much of an improvement. By his third line, Harry was forced to set the quill down and stretch out his cramping hand- the muscles unused to the awkward and tight grip required for the quill. This was going to take ages.

Over the next two hours, the others slowly finished their lines and trickled out of the room. Milli was the last to finish besides Harry himself. After she handed her work in to Ricmod and was dismissed, Harry looked down and sighed- he was only on line 60-something. A moment later though, a hand appeared on his parchment, making him start.

"That will do, Mr. Doe. You may go."

His head snapped up to find Ricmod standing right in front of him. "Thank you," he told her earnestly. She gave him a faint smile, inclining her head. "Sorry about the handwriting," he apologized, embarrassed that the parchment looked like a primary schooler's poor attempt rather than a 16-year-old's.

"I'm sorry to make you do this, but I couldn't very well just let you go," Ricmod said, waving Harry off.

"I just hope they have us cleaning tomorrow- at least that I can do one-handed," Harry said half seriously.

"Have a good night, Mr. Doe," she dismissed him.

Harry found the others waiting up for him in the common room. They were surprised and relieved to see him return so soon after Milli.

"She just let me go after Milli finished- I think she felt bad for me, but I wasn't about to question her motives and stick it out for another two hours," Harry told them with a shrug.

They didn't hang out long after Harry's return before all heading up to their dorms. It had been a long few days and everyone was rather exhausted in many senses.

Back in the boy's dormitory, they all began to get ready for bed. Harry magically switched out his uniform for his sleep clothes, not wanting to bother with properly changing and opting to just shower in the morning. He let the others fight over the bathroom. As he folded his robes up and shoved them in his trunk, Harry noticed a Transfiguration book sitting on his desk. A bit of parchment was poking out of the front cover that read, 'Just in case you wanted to 'be productive' this weekend. I just need it back for lessons on Monday.' Remus' tight handwriting was easily identifiable. Harry glanced over to offer him a look of thanks, but the other boy was buried in his trunk, searching for something.

Harry leaned back against his desk, nervously running his fingers over the book as he watched Peter emerge from the loo in his night clothes and trade with Sirius who went in after him. The shower kicked on a minute later. As if they had all been waiting for that signal, James, Remus, and Peter seemed to move as one, converging on Sirius' bed in a huddle. There was some rummaging and a hushed discussion. Remus seemed to be putting his foot down about something if the firm shake of his head and James' exasperated sigh were anything to go by. The two appeared to come to some sort of an agreement and the group broke apart, each boy heading back to his own bed and resuming their nighttime routines.

Curiously, Harry peered over at what they had done and saw a small pile of presents and parcels piled up in front of Sirius' pillow. Harry's fingers slid over to the handle of his top desk drawer, easing it open just enough for his hand to sneak in and retrieve a small box. His heartbeat quickened and Harry felt irrationally nervous as strode across the room and added his own little contribution to the pile. He could feel eyes following him, but nobody said anything as he made his deposit and returned to his bed.

A few minutes later, Sirius exited the bathroom still toweling off his hair. After a few steps into the room, he noticed the gifts on his bed and Harry felt bad at the genuine surprise and gratitude that showed on his face. This was probably the first time that properly celebrating his birthday hadn't been a given expectation- but with everything that had happened in the last two days, he'd actually thought that maybe they wouldn't this year. And, well, it might not be the 17th bash that he'd envisioned, but Sirius' heart ballooned with joy at the sight. Not only did it suck to not get to have a proper birthday, but the gesture also meant that he hadn't ruined anything quite yet- that this was still his home.

Sirius' face broke out in a massive grin. "Oh, you spoil me," he said as he finished making his way across the room.

"You haven't seen what's in any of 'em yet- you just might wanna hold off on any judgment just yet," James warned with a smirk.

"You're right- my appreciation must be bought. Stand by while I determine who is worthy." Sirius held up a hand to hold James off while the other wandered over the packages.

James managed to chuck his pillow right past Sirius' outstretched hand, nailing him in the side of the head. "Just open 'em, you tosser," he huffed.

"Fine," Sirius rolled his eyes, gathering up his comforter and depositing his stash on the floor. "But I'm keeping this," he added, nicking James' pillow and promptly sitting on it. James made a face of disgust and Peter laughed as he joined Sirius on the floor.

Everyone settled in a circle around Sirius' comforter. Harry felt a little awkward- like he was imposing on their special occasion- but he figured it'd be even more awkward if he didn't join in.

Sirius snatched one of the larger boxes- one made of simple cardboard tied up with string- right off the bat, seeming to know exactly what it was. He pulled the tie off and soon revealed a sizable cake covered in dark frosting with 'Happy Birthday Sirius' written in neat cursive in iridescent silver icing across the top.

"Halsy is the best!" Sirius said emphatically.

James had produced plates and forks from somewhere, passing them over as he said, "Party pooper perfect over here," he jerked his head towards Remus, "wouldn't let me light the sparklers, so please excuse the lack of flare in its presentation."

With a whispered word, the cake began serving itself. Sirius took a big bite, closing his eyes to savor it. "Perfect."

Harry tried a bit of his own slice as well and was surprised to find that the dark brown frosting wasn't actually chocolate, like the cake, as he's expected, but rather coffee flavored. It was extremely rich, but undeniably delicious. The cake itself was wonderfully moist and Harry had to agree- perfect.

Once he'd been satisfied with a few more bites of cake, Sirius moved on to open the rest of the packages. There were two more boxes from the Potters- one that contained more baked goods from Halsy and another that had gifts from James' parents. Peter had gotten him an assortment of candies and joke shop items while Remus had gone for a couple of muggle games that had Sirius very intrigued. James gave him a couple of new records, a pair of socks that had a variation of a long-lasting Silencing charm on them so that your footsteps made no sound when wearing them, as well as an IOU 'one scapegoat for the authority figure of your choice' voucher.

"Be sure to read the fine print on the back of that one- there are terms and conditions," James reminded Sirius upon seeing the glint in his eye when he got his hands on the voucher.

Sirius pouted at that. "What kind of a gift comes with 'terms and conditions'?"

"The kind going to the likes of you," James said with a pointed look, followed by a smile.

Lastly, Sirius picked up the small, plain box with a curious look on his face. "Where'd this one come from?"

"Uh- Me," Harry said, that pesky insecurity creeping up once again.

"Awe- You didn't have to get me anything," Sirius said, but still beaming as he opened the unassuming box. He carefully pulled out the contents, setting the box aside. In his hand sat a black origami dog about the size of Sirius' palm. In his other hand he held a small slip of paper. "Animus?" He asked, reading out the one word on the parchment. "What's 'Animus'?"

But before he could even really finish his question, the paper dog jumped out of his hand, softly landing on the comforter in front of Sirius before taking off, running in playful circles around the floor. They all watched as the dog ran up to James, appeared to sniff him, and then stuck its tiny paper tongue out and licked his knee.

Harry let out a little laugh. "That would be what activates the charm on it."

The small dog was now trying to climb up onto Remus. When it realized that the effort was futile, it loped over to Peter and lifted its leg as if it were peeing on the boy's slipper before heading back over to Sirius who scooped him back up in his hand. "Good boy," he praised, throwing a teasing look over at Peter who was still looking rather affronted. The dog licked Sirius's face, letting out a silent bark as it wagged its tail happily. "Is there a way to turn him off?" Sirius asked, looking to Harry.

"Flip the card over," was all he said.

Sirius did as instructed and read out, "Corpus." And the little dog froze, one paw in the air where it had been resting against Sirius, mouth open mid-pant and tail in the air. "Wicked," Sirius grinned as he set the dog down on the ground.

"Not only does it look like Padfoot, but it acts like him too," James said gleefully, still snickering at Peter's expense.

"I tried," Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure how long the charms will last, but I was quite pleased with how he turned out." Really, Harry was just thankful that he'd taken the thing out of his bag before their disastrous Potions lesson the previous morning. It had taken many of his sleepless nights to not only make the actual figurine, but to get the animation charms just right. He was rather proud of it, even if it wasn't anything too grand. And he was glad he had something to give Sirius. "Happy Birthday, mate."