Please don't comment on this Author Note: I just wanted everyone to know how grateful I am to the reviewers. And due to progressing health issues, I'm struggling a bit. AO3 reviewers, I will respond to each of you and FFN private messengers as well when I have more energy. I basically have been typing this story on my phone in the dark as my thoughts get quieter and more unfocused.
Your feedback on the chapters and characters has been helping me stay engaged and I cannot thank you enough for it.
Chapter 8 - Deep End
Harry sat in his favourite armchair by the fire, looking up every now and again at Fred and George fainting onto puffs to the entertainment of the first years. He was thumbing through one of the books Dumbeldore had given to him.
Elemental Transfiguration: A Guide to Finding Your Element.
Harry thought it was above him, however, Dumbledore promised to teach him once he got the theoretical part down, and McGonagall had told him after class that she has sent a copy of the book to Sirius, so Harry and Sirius would be learning together.
Considering Sirius was a damn prodigy in Transfiguration chances were he would figure it out first.
It was kind of interesting, to remember, that the adults had the stuff to learn too. Though he supposed since Sirius had been imprisoned and then on the run since he had been twenty-one, it made some sense Sirius wasn't that far ahead of Harry.
Well, he spent the time after graduation in a full-fledged war, so there was that, but still, it was only five years of separation between sixteen and twenty-one.
Harry yelped, slapping a hand to his forehead, and for a moment, he saw himself laughing madly through a veil of hatred.
Harry blinked back tears from the pain, Voldemort was pissed.
Harry smirked to himself, vindictively pleased at anything that caused the bastard to suffer even if it was a memory of Harry laughing.
Weird.
Hermione plopped down beside him, "You really don't want me researching what the Dark Lord is up to?"
She said it as if they had never stopped their debate.
He sighed, "No, Hermione, I don't want you to study necromancy or Dark Arts potions and rituals. You have OWLs after all."
"You aren't at all curious?"
He closed his book, "No, Hermione, I'd rather not think of what Voldemort could be doing with my father's decaying corpse."
She nodded then did one of her whiplash topic changes, "Are you and Luna an official couple yet?"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Remember that conversation we had a while back, about it being okay for me to have other friends?"
"But you're completely gone on her," Hermione protested. "Come on, Harry, I've seen the way you two look at each other."
He huffed, "Not like that. Besides, I didn't think you liked her."
Hermione shrugged, "I'll admit, I didn't understand at all what you saw in her, but she's not as flakey as she seemed to be, she's top of her year in nearly every subject, and most importantly, she makes you happy. How could I not like her?"
Harry eyed her, loathe it be for him to poke a hole in Hermione's goodwill, when she was the prejudiced one among the two, but he didn't trust this, especially if she was seeing something that wasn't there between Luna and him.
"And what does Ginny have to say about your little theory?"
Hermione sighed, looking round the room, double checking she wasn't there.
"She and Ron are at Quidditch practice," Harry said.
Hermione's shoulders eased. Ginny was, after all, one of Hermione's only female friends. "She's pretty upset, honestly. She made a promise to herself to let you go, and start dating other people, but well, she feels like it's being rubbed in her face, what with you dating a girl in her year and them being friends."
"They aren't friends," Harry snapped.
Hermione gave him a reproachful, "Now who needs the other friends talk? Luna doesn't belong to you, even if she's your girlfriend."
Again, he rolled his eyes, "No, I mean they are just neighbours and friendly toward each other, but Ginny doesn't count as a friend."
"I'm sorry, what counts as a friend?" Hermione retorted hotly.
"Someone who asks you how you are and actually stays to listen because they care about the answer. A friend is someone who doesn't whisper behind your back about your father's business being ludicrous or her grasp on reality. A friend notices when you're around so that if they do overhear some sort of lament, they can apologize for it. Ginny isn't that to Luna, not by a long shot."
Hermione blinked, "I didn't know you disliked Ginny so much."
He shook his head, shoulders drooping, "I don't dislike her. I dislike the fact that people are so quick to judge and so slow to notice and help someone other than themselves. Did you know Professor Flitwick had to step in this year to keep her dorm mates from ganging up on her?"
Harry was still mad at himself for not saying something sooner, but it had taken him a while to decipher when Luna was being literal about the Nargles and when she was insulting someone for being Nargle-esque.
Hermione's expression paled, "No, I didn't know that I didn't realize Ginny—"
"No, not Ginny. She isn't responsible for anything but she didn't notice if she did she didn't do anything and that's just not a friend. And it's rude to undermine how lonely someone is because you assume someone else is a good person."
"Notice what?" Hermione asked.
"That she wasn't wearing shoes, and that in a freaking stone castle that maybe that wasn't a fashion statement."
Hermione nodded "Okay, I see your point. But you know that you're more than friends with her, right?"
Harry shook his head again, "You don't know us. Not us together."
"But I would like to," Hermione said. Seeing his expression, she changed tack. "Can I see your sketchbook for a moment?"
He passed it over to her and she caught several pages between her fingers as she flipped through them before turning it back to him.
Harry stared at the pages he showed her.
The first few were just rough sketches, but the latter ones?
Picture after picture was of Luna with Pen, Luna smiling at the Thestrals, Luna with Hippogryphs, Luna surrounded by a herd of dancing moon-calfs.
Luna in the library.
Luna smiling at lunch.
Harry's cheeks turned red, "I'm a creep."
She whapped him with the book, "You're adorable and very, very, oblivious to your own feelings."
"But Luna doesn't feel that way about me."
"Harry—"
"She doesn't," Harry said. "I've had girls flirting with me all year, Cho, Parvati, Padma, Susan, Sue Li, hell, even Daphne Greengrass."
"Don't forget Stephen Cornfoot."
Harry huffed, "And him. Luna hasn't acted like any of them."
"That's because she doesn't have a crush on you," Hermione said. "She loves you."
"And I love her, Hermione, I really do. But I'm not going to muck that up—"
Like I did with Cho.
Hermione took his hand, "It doesn't have to be gross, or physical, or anything. But you ought to be honest with her."
"Honest about what? Hey Luna, I love you as my best friend and I think I also have a crush on you that I wasn't aware of."
"She's your best friend?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked away, "I'm sorry."
Hermione shrugged, "I was always second best to Ron. Even when Ron abandoned you and I didn't."
"Hermione, you and I—"
"I'm a lot, I get it."
"That's not it," he argued.
"Then what is it?" she demanded.
"Because it's easy to appease Ron. Quidditch, chess, mocking professors, and bemoaning classes, easy. But—"
"But I'm not."
"You're confusing," Harry admitted. "On one hand, you're always talking about how we should read more, try harder, be more interested in classes, but then if we do. If I do better than you in anything except for Defense, you get super defensive and hurt."
"No, I don't," she said defensively.
Harry raised a brow.
Hermione looked away, "Okay, maybe a little but I would have gotten over it if you didn't pretend—"
"That I'm stupid?" Harry asked. "So you thought the way to get me to stop was to continue talking to me like I'm stupid?"
"No— That's not—"
"Your intention?" he asked. "Yeah, I know it isn't. But I've been told my entire life that I'm stupid and worthless. It's kind of a habit for me to meet those sorts of expectations. I was punished anytime I did better than my cousin and school, and let me tell you, that's a really, really tall ask."
Hermione looked horrified, "You had to do worse than your cousin on purpose?"
"Harder than you think, I would have to get just a few points above passing. You have to know the right answers to mess up that carefully."
She was quiet for a long moment before asking, "How were you punished?"
Harry flashed on Vernon's face and then he told the truth, "Starvation was the go-to. But being locked up when someone's screaming at you… It's scary, you know, at least it was for me, worse than being hit, the threat of being hit, and being unable to get away."
Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry."
He rubbed her hand, "It's not your fault."
"But I made you feel—"
"Hermione, I've never had friends before you and Ron. It's not your fault I don't know how to advocate for myself."
Looking shaken, Hermione asked, "And Luna?"
He let out a breath, "Luna brings out the person that I didn't know I wanted to be."
"And she doesn't talk to you like an idiot?"
He smirked, "Oh, she isn't shy about letting me know when I'm wrong."
"But she doesn't talk down to you," she said softly.
He sighed, "Hermione, I promise I've never doubted the kind of friend you are. One I could count on for everything and anything. I'm just trying to figure out who I am beyond all this—" he gestured at his head.
Slowly, she reached a hand up to brush his bangs back. "It looks redder than normal."
"Voldemort is upset."
"And that hurts?"
"Hurts when he's happy too. Everything about him hurts."
Hermione bit her lip, and Harry knew she wanted to push him on where they had been up to instead she asked, "About Voldemort, I had an idea, actually?"
Harry felt a thrill go through him, "Oh, yeah?"
Her hands fluttered, "Yeah. You know how Umbridge is awful, and well, you've been teaching Charms and Transfiguration, I thought, maybe you could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, in a club. Like in the second year when they tried doing that duelling club. It would have to be in the secret of course— What?"
Harry was pretty sure his eyes were twinkling with amusement and roundness, "I think that's an absolutely brilliant idea, Hermione."
A hesitant smile grew on my face as well, "Really?"
"Really," he said, pulling her into a hug.
Severus Snape loathed Dolores Umbridge, and loathed her a little more each day as she began to make more and more edicts.
Wasn't it bad enough that the Dark Lord was back? Why did the ministry feel that now was the right time to turn on Albus?
Severus jumped as his fire lit up. Knowing who it had to be, he tossed a handful of floo powder into the fireplace.
Severus didn't really understand how the wards worked at Hogwarts, but for whatever reason, some Death Eaters could enter through the floo while others could not.
Maybe it had something to do with intent.
That would explain why the wards hadn't so much as rippled at Black entering through old passageways.
Lucius Malfoy came stumbling through, reaching for Severus's rum he had left out on his office's table.
"Hello," Severus drawled, annoyed as he stood with snagging two glasses.
"The stinking mudblood," Lucius cursed as he slumped into one of Severus's seats by the fire.
Severus snagged the bottle, pouring out a generous amount into the glasses.
"Who are you talking about?" Severus asked, sitting down with silent affirmation that he wouldn't be getting any more work down.
"Your mudblood," Lucius said with more exhaustion than heat in his voice.
Severus stiffened.
Lily.
"I thought you were an idiot, I thought James Potter was an idiot. Merlin, it shouldn't be possible. It should not be possible."
Severus, who was fighting back his anger, was caught off-guard by Lucius's tone.
"What isn't possible?" Severus prompted, giving the other man some slack, he was, after all, living with the Dark Lord.
Severus still didn't have a clue what the Dark Lord had done with James's corpse.
"Was she really so intelligent? Was she really such a power?" Lucius asked, looking up with sharp focus.
"Who?" Severus asked, at a complete loss not.
"Lily Evans Potter."
"I don't understand you," Severus replied, not understanding what Lucius wanted him to say.
"She was pretty," Lucius said. "Pretty and bookish —that— was understandable. But she wasn't wife material. Not for one of our kind."
Severus gritted his teeth, "She's dead."
Lucius laughed, it was a bitter and harsh sound, "She was a genius."
Severus was stunned into silence.
Lily was a genius, but he never thought another Death Eater would admit that.
"Power, Merlin, she must have been raw power," Lucius muttered, looking into the flames.
Severus swallowed. "Lily Evans had an intellect unmatched. She was powerful, yes, but not necessarily as powerful as one of the Blacks or Potter himself. What she lacked in power she made up for in finesse. I have never known a better Charm crafter."
"And a ward crafter?" Lucius asked, pale eyes flashing back to Severus's expression. "How was she at the Dark Arts?"
Severus was uncomfortable at this line of questioning, it might reveal too much of his motives for working for Albus, but then, the Dark Lord already knew his weakness.
"Over the summers, when were children, I think she read every book my mother hidden away in her trunk from the Prince library. All first editions, obscure titles, things my grandparents dearly missed."
Lucius stared at him a moment, "I cannot believe I was wrong about the muggle-born. I would say she was the exception but that Granger girl has been outperforming Draco since day one."
Severus thought his brain had short-circuited at this, "Is this a joke?"
Lucius shook his head, then whispered, "He admitted it." Then dunked back all the rum left in his glass in one go.
"Who admitted what?"
"The Dark Lord," Lucius snapped, louder. "Who else?"
Severus ran through everything they had been discussing. "The Dark Lord," Severus began slowly, "admitted Lily Evans was intelligent?"
Lucius's voice lowered again, and he leaned forward as if sharing a secret, "He admitted that she bested him. That she, a muggle-born, not the boy, not fate, but that woman who defeated him. The one who outsmarted and bested him."
Severus felt the blood drain from his face.
Lucius snagged the bottle off the table and helped himself another drink. "Narcissa is going to leave me."
Severus still felt too stunned at the previous revelation to respond to Lucius's material issues.
Lucius went on, "Family first, that's the Black mantra, I thought she would go to France, but I think she will go back to her sister and her muggle-born husband. I would say she's being ridiculous but I've seen the power of the Dark Lord, but it was a muggle-born and a child who has outmatched him time and time again."
"In what context did he say Lily had bested him?" Severus asked.
"The blood ward she built, between her and her son. Whoever took her life, would be the one the ward protected the boy against. A strong enough ward, a dark enough ward to require blood and life, that could redirect the Killing Curse," Lucius explained.
"But the Dark Lord just told you this?" Severus asked, thinking even if it was true, the Dark Lord would sooner chop out his own tongue than admit such a notion.
Lucius did not answer for a long moment as he looked back toward the fire, "I hope she goes to Andromeda's. If she goes to France, I'll never see my son again, or not until he comes of age."
Severus tried to prod the man for more answers, but even drunk, Lucius gave away nothing.
Nothing about what the Dark Lord off-handledly referring to his defeat at the hand of a muggleborns had to do with James's corpse, but surely the two were related.
Severus let Lucius sleep in his office armchair, as he went to his bookshelf, searching through the tombs he knew Lily had read.
He should have been thrilled that the Dark Lord was slipping, burning holes in his own ideology among his nearest followers.
But a cornered wolf is at its most dangerous.
Since Harry wasn't dating anyone currently, he felt no guilt when snagged Daphne's arm and pulled her into an alcove with him.
"I have a proposition for you," he said in a low voice.
She glared up at him, cheeks heated.
He was very glad to be hitting his growth spurt even though it made his stomach feel like a bottomless unfillable hole.
"I am not some witch you can sweep off her feet with a damnair smile and an eye twinkle."
"Ah, good to know the twinkle has been working, I've been practising."
"Go to hell."
Harry fought back a laugh and lowered his voice, "I'd like to extend an invitation to you for a homework club."
Her blushing expression frosted over, "I hate you."
He smiled, "Don't you want to pass Defence practicals?"
She shoved his shoulder and said with a sigh, "Where and when?"
He gave her the hallway.
"There is no room there," she protested.
"There will be," he affirmed. "Can I charge you and your sister with getting other Slytherins who are trustworthy to come?"
"Slytherins and trust?" she scoffed. "Perish the thought."
"Theoretically, no one should be better at keeping a secret. Besides, I think Slytherin House is the only one almost fully convinced Mr. Necromancer is back from the beyond. So even if they aren't in their fifth or seventh years, they will care about learning how to defend themselves."
"Most of us have private tutors," she said.
Harry thought back to the Department of Mysteries and said, "If that's true about the Death Eaters, then that's bloody embarrassing."
She bit her lip before asking, "What about Theo?"
"What about him?"
She glared at him, "Theodore Nott."
"Yes, I know who Theo is, we've been attending classes here at Hogwarts for quite some time now."
"I mean, can I invite him?"
"I don't see why not," he replied.
"His father is a Death Eater."
"So because his father made poor life choices, you think he shouldn't learn how to defend himself?"
"What— No, it's your club, and I wouldn't invite Draco—"
"If you invited Draco, I admit, I would begin to start questioning your intelligence."
"But both their fathers are Death Eaters."
"Daphne, I don't give a damn who their fathers are. Draco is a git and as far as I can tell, Theo is just rough around the edges, something I can fully relate to. I trust you to use your best judgement. I expect at some point this will get shut down, my goal is just to get people prepared as best I can with what time we do have."
She sighed, then gave him a mischievous look that reminded him she was Astoria's older sister, "I wouldn't be offended if you asked me out on a date now."
He took her hand and placed the lightest of kisses on her fingers, "I'm sorry to disappoint, my Lady."
Harry caught out of the corner of his eye, a wand being pointed at him before he saw Daphne's blue eyes widen in alarm.
He had his wand out and pointed before Umbridge could think up the name of a spell.
"Expeliuramus!"
The wand was ripped out of Umbridge's hand, so hard and fast, the pink toad yelped.
Everyone present in the hall watched the wand sore.
Including Snape and McGonagall. Snape was, in fact, close enough to have caught the wand.
He didn't.
He let it fall to his feet unmoved.
"Five points to Gryffindor," McGonagall said, amused as Harry and Daphne stepped out of the alcove.
Umbridge's steps were tight and quick as she went to her wand and stooped to pick it up in front of the two —much taller— professors.
"Giving points for breaking Edict—" outraged, Umbridge began to say but McGonagall headed her off.
"Of course, he was able to identify a threat and disarm a fully grown witch," her voice was all business, the picture of sincerity. "I have to admit, I hadn't thought much of your teaching methods until now, Dolores, but if Mr. Potter is any example, it seems my doubts were misplaced."
Harry, doubting he would get detention with McGonagall there, quipped, "Actually Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape taught me that in second year. Most useful spell I ever learned, it works against the Dark Lord and everything."
For a second, Harry swore he saw Snape's lips twitch, whether at what he said or Umbridge's spluttering denials.
"Anyway, see you in class professors," Harry said, letting himself be hurried along with Daphne.
A short ways away, she gave him a look.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"That's why you flirted with me," she said. "As a cover, if Umbridge came by."
"She does have a knack for showing up at the worst moments."
"Seriously, Harry," she said, sounding disappointed.
He gave her a half smile, teasing was one thing, leading her on was another, "I don't know what the future holds, but my heart is spoken for, Daphne."
She sighed, "I thought I would try, seeing as you don't actually hate Slytherins."
"Nah, just Malfoy," he said, waving to her as they parted to go to their respective classes.
Harry was feeling nervous about what Hermione had said.
Did he have a crush on Luna Lovegood?
He certainly admired her.
He certainly loved her, but was he interested in her?
"What am I supposed to do, Pen?" Harry asked the Bowtruckle. "Don't want to mess things up with her, especially if I don't know for sure."
Pen tittered, but while certainly an amusing friend for his small stature, a love oracle a Bowtruckle did not make.
Ultimately, at the end of Pen's tittering speech, he shrugged up at Harry as if to, 'What do you want from me, I'm a Bowtruckle.'
Harry sighed, "Fair enough, Pen, fair enough."
They made it to the clearing deep in the forest where the Thestrals called home.
Nothing fucked with Thestrals, which meant even this deep in the forest with days growing ever shorter. It was still relatively safe.
Luna was already there, stepping on one foot and then the next in something that had to be the wizard equivalent to Irish step.
Or maybe it just was Irish Step dancing.
She was teaching the foals, five in all the herd currently, the triplets looking extremely small as they trotted excitedly around Luna.
The oldest one, who they had named Gellert after an extremely long debate about the Deathly Hallows and in which they spoke of Dark Lords absurd obsession with immortality, ending with one of the foals pouncing on Harry and trying to run off with the invisibility cloak.
They decided that naming a baby Death Horse after the Dark Lord who had made the Hallows famous was fitting. Also, there was just something fun about referring to a Dark Lord by the first name.
And using said name for a baby animal.
Likewise, they named the second oldest Thestral foal Martha, after Batman's mum.
She wasn't a villain but then the foal was very sweet.
"Did you decide on names yet?" Harry asked, taking a seat and lighting the lanterns they had set round the clearing.
They weren't normal lights, their radius only extending about three metres in each direction. Meaning they wouldn't attract much, especially as they were dim and silver like moonlight rather than fire that might have attracted things that liked to hunt humans specifically.
Luna grinned, pointing as she exchanged feet, the foals following like dressage horses he'd seen on the telly once when Vernon tried impressing his work guests who were equestrian enthusiasts.
"Anita," she said, pointing at the blackest and first born of the triplets. "Benito," she said next, changing feet again, pointing at the lightest grey foal, the second of the triplets. And then she pointed at the troublemaker who was smaller than both her triplets, "Juanita."
Harry grinned, "Do I want to know where you got those names?"
She just grinned back at him in mute answer.
Some things, Luna kept her own council on, and that was okay.
Harry was content to watch Luna dance with the foals as he brushed down the adults with a soft brush, looking for any scrapes and injuries. The triplets' parents waited patiently for him at the end of the circles, tending to monopolize most of his time, both because it typically took him the longest to check over the mare and make sure she wasn't overtasking herself nursing three triplets, who would hopefully be switching to meat soon, and because these two had basically called dibs on Harry.
The sire would sometimes herd Harry around as if he were one of the foals.
Tonight was no different as he finished wiping down one of the last wings, the Thestral was standing behind him snuffling his hair. Sorting through it with his beak.
Harry sighed, "I suppose you can't make it much worse."
The Thestral huffed into his hair at his cheek.
Harry grinned, coaxing the mare to him, who readily lowered her head for him to begin his check. He petted her cheek as he went, her skin softer than most cats.
Thestrals got a bad rap for being hairless.
They weren't hairless. Their hair was just so delicate it was nothing compared to a real horse but there was still fuzz there. Especially behind the ears. The mare leaned her head into him as he massaged her there.
By the time, he was done, Luna had collapsed into the leaf bed, the foals laying down on her.
Harry nixed the lights and joined her to look up at the stars.
The adults stood guard, while Juanita got up just long enough to collapse in an exhausted heap on his stomach.
They might be nocturnal, but they were still babies and babies animals had exactly two mods, crazy and sleeping.
Harry ran a hand lightly over Juanita's wing as he tried to think of how to speak to tell Luna he might have a crush on her.
Surely he should tell her, right?
But Luna spoke first, "We changed their fates."
Catching on to her serious tone he asked, "The Thestrals?"
"They would have died, except Anita and her sire, if not for us, if not for the time travelling."
"I know," he agreed. It's part of the reason why, despite Voldemort going off the deep end of an entirely deep pool, Harry still felt centred.
Why he didn't feel completely hopeless.
Most of that was because of Luna herself though.
When she spoke again, he caught the restrained emotion and he was instantly worried, "Maybe we can change your fate too."
He nodded, "Yeah, maybe we can."
She caught his hand in the damp leaves and squeezed, "Harry, I want you to live, please. I want you to really try."
Feeling how serious she was being, how worried she truly was, all thoughts of romance fled out the proverbial window.
He treated her request with the sincerity she clearly needed, "I promise you that I will do everything it takes, to become his equal. As long as you can promise me something in return."
She squeezed his hand tighter, "Anything."
"Promise me you'll never sacrifice yourself for me."
"I promise."
He let out a long breath, holding her hand beneath the star studded sky.
Surrounded by Death Horses as they were, the literal stuff of nightmares, probably shouldn't have felt as at home as he did.
But home was where your heart was.
Little did Harry know, that night, the blood ward that had extended to Number 4 Privet Drive dissolved.
AN: Feedback on the chapter, fruit bats, or thoughts, pretty please?