December 27, 1991

"Sirius, why didn't you want me to tell Remus?"

Sirius looked up. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I want to say we can trust him with this, but I have to know he's not going to go running to Dumbledore."

Harry nodded solemnly. "And you still think Dumbledore is the one behind the package?"

Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Too many things fit for it to be a coincidence.

"Yeah, I do. You mentioned James's cloak in your first year. I think this is the next best thing in his mind. I'm fairly certain he still doesn't know that Remus or I have been in close contact with you, or with Ivy, and he's probably betting that he can win Ivy to his side using her parents. He wouldn't expect you to be able to share anything about them anyway, so he probably assumed she doesn't know much."

Harry thought back to his own younger years and how much he had loved being able to glean even the tiniest bit of information about his parents.

"Do you think…" Harry couldn't quite bring himself to say it.

"Do I think Dumbledore put a compulsion on you?"

Harry nodded, eyes staring at the ground.

Sirius sighed. "I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. In a way, it doesn't matter. He manipulated your life so you would do what he wanted, fulfil your so-called destiny or whatever nonsense he was following, and whether or not he used some kind of magic on you to make you more cooperative is almost a moot point."

Surprisingly, that made Harry feel a bit better. It didn't matter what Dumbledore had or had not done. Not really. That part of his life was over. Now his focus was Ivy.

"And what about Ivy?"

Sirius rubbed his brow before responding. "Look, you're a lot more forgiving of a person than I am. I think we firmly established that."

Harry let out a wry chuckle. He had witnessed Sirius's lack of forgiveness. He had prevented Sirius from killing Peter in his world, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do so here. Not now that he understood Sirius's position a little better.

"You were able to forgive people," Sirius continued, "including Dumbledore, for things that, frankly, most people never would be able to forgive. Myself included. But I've seen you with Ivy, and I know you'll do anything to protect her. Including going up against Dumbledore if needed."

"You think it'll come to that?"

Sirius grimaced. "I don't think he's likely to give in any time soon."

Harry sighed. "You're probably right. Maybe once we get this whole Voldemort thing taken care of once and for all he'll stop. Has he contacted you any more about Ivy?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. Nothing recently. I would guess that he's trying to get a better read on you first. You are quite the mystery of the British wizarding world right now, you know."

Harry groaned. "Don't remind me. I swear every day it's worse. Where do people come up with all these rumours anyway?"

Sirius went to answer but Harry put up his hand. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Sirius threw back his head and laughed. "You're going to have to face your adoring public sooner or later."

"Do you have to put it that way? And later is fine by me."

"You could always let Ivy set up a social calendar for you."

Harry made a face. "Why do you love tormenting me?"

"She did mention something about how you really ought to date more." Harry let out a strangled sound that Sirius completely ignored. "I think she might have said something about finding someone for you if you didn't do it yourself."

Sirius had the gall to laugh at the expression on Harry's face. "Where would she even… You know what, never mind. I have half an idea to stick her on you. I'm sure everyone would love to meet the new Lord Black."

Sirius's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I would too! Besides, you started it. No way am I going to be dragged off into some kind of social event while you get to stay at home. If I'm going down, then you're going down with me."

"Well…" Sirius grasped for a retort. "Well, maybe I'll be the one dragging you down with me."

"Not bloody likely. You would just find a way to get out of it. No, if I'm going, so are you."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"What're you yelling about?"

Harry and Sirius both turned to see Ivy standing in the doorway.

"Nothing," Harry reassured her. "Just telling Sirius that he's going to have to come with me to social events and such."

Ivy clapped her hands. "Oh perfect! I'll let Draco know we're coming."

With that she turned around and skipped out of the room.

As realization over their newfound situation sunk in, the two men turned and looked at each other with expressions of horror.

"Did we just…"

"Yeah."

"This isn't going to end well."

"Probably not."

"It'll be fine."

"Speak for yourself. I'm related to Malfoy."

"Only by marriage."

"That doesn't make it better."

They both shuddered. Harry felt bad for a split second, but that feeling quickly faded. Maybe this would be his chance to get the diary… He wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of it before. Okay, he did know, but he wasn't ready to admit to himself or anyone else that he was too scared of the young female population of Britain to actually go to something like the Malfoy's New Years Eve party.

Ivy would be happy to see her friends, Harry could nab the diary, and Sirius would be there as well. Maybe he'd be able to get a good pensieve memory out of this.

Draco ran through the manor in search of his parents. Christmas had been wonderful, as always, but now it was even better. Ivy was coming to his party. His family's party. Same thing.

He nearly ran into his mother, but she didn't even chide him for it. She just asked if everything was alright and he said it was.

"Ivy is coming to our party."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She just wrote me. Apparently Lord Peverell decided they could come after all."

His father, who he had not noticed was even in the room until just now, began coughing.

"Well, that's nice. So they will both be attending?"

Draco nodded. "Oh, and she said her godfather would come too."

His mother beamed. "Well, it will certainly be nice to see my sousing again after all this time."

His father coughed again.

"Water, dear?"

"I'm fine," his father got out before excusing himself.

His mother rolled her eyes ever so slightly. "Well, I'm sure it will be wonderful to have more of your friends here."

Lucius sat at his desk. On the one hand, he was finally going to have a chance to meet Lord Peverell. Despite the rumours that continued to circulate, no one actually knew anything about the man. Severus had asked for help in learning more about him, but so far Lucius hadn't had anything to offer him. But now, he thought, as he viewed the official response sent by Lord Peverell, he would have a chance to observe the man, perhaps even lay the foundations of a future alliance of sorts. The man hadn't appeared in the Wizengamot, but if he were ever to claim his seat, his name alone would bring him considerable influence.

So yes, meeting Lord Peverell provided a good opportunity. On the other hand… Lucius had known as soon as he heard of Black's innocence that he wouldn't be able to escape the man forever. He honestly had no idea how a man such as Black had been produced by his wife's family. He was just so…Gryffindor. Yet Lucius knew better than to underestimate him. Even as a teenager when Lucius had been courting Narcissa, Sirius Black had held his own in any argument Lucius had found himself in. He was a Gryffindor, yes, but he had the skills of a Slytherin, at least when he chose to use them.

As much as he disliked Black, however, he would not do anything to disrupt his wife's chance at reconnecting with her family. The Black were, for the most part, disowned, dead, or imprisoned. Narcissa had effectively lost nearly every member of her family she had ever been close with, and if Black's release meant she had an opportunity to have at least one member of her family still in her life, he could put up with Black's inevitable antics. Perhaps just from a safe distance.

December 31, 1991

Remus looked over his charges for the evening. Sirius, Harry, and Ivy were all headed to the Malfoy's of all places, and the rest of them were thankfully not required to leave with them.

"You know, you lot could come with us. I'm sure it would be fine."

Remus saw the four looks that mirrored his own and turned to Harry. "I think we're fine. Thanks."

"Right. Right. Okay. Well, we'll be off then." Harry continued muttering to himself as he walked to the door, Ivy following cheerfully behind him.

"Why do I have to wear this again?" Sirius asked, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "It makes you look presentable."

"Plus if I have to wear it, you have to too," Harry added.

Remus watched as the three left the house, one walking cheerfully and the other two grumbling back and forth about "this is all your fault."

Once the door closed he turned back to the assembled Weasleys.

"Alright men," he said. "What's our first order of business?"

"Dinner?" the youngest asked hopefully.

"Right. We can manage that. I think. I've lived on my own. This will be fine. Just fine." He turned in the direction of the kitchen before glancing back. "Just in case, do any of you know how to cook?"

Four grimaces were all he got in response. Remus sighed. "Fine. This will be fine. How hard can it be?"

Forty minutes later Remus had learned precisely how difficult it could be. Who knew that chicken was so difficult? Between his own lack of cooking skills and the occasional almost-helpful suggestions from the boys, they had made an utter mess of things. At least nothing was on fire.

Oh. He spoke too soon.

Well, at least it was all in the pan.

He had spoken too soon again.

"Aren't there, you know, cooking spells and things like that?"

They all looked at Ron.

"I'm just saying. There's probably an easier way to do this."

Remus agreed. It was called a restaurant.

Percy volunteered to go look in the library for a cooking book of some kind, and the twins helpfully offered to put out the fire.

Knowing what he and his friends had been like at their age, Remus thought that maybe they should not be allowed near any fire, ever, so he sent them on the hunt for some type of food that didn't involve actually cooking.

Percy returned soon after with a book labelled "Household Charms for the Ignorant," which Remus thought was appropriate.

"Isn't your mom…you know, good at this?" Remus gestured to the disaster that was currently Harry's kitchen.

Percy grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. Really good."

"And none of you know because…"

"I think she tried with Bill and Charlie. Me too, actually. But once the twins started getting into things I think she gave up. We probably made a mess of her kitchen one too many times."

Remus wondered what Percy had ever done to get banned from the kitchen. He reminded Remus of himself in some ways, although he hoped he hadn't been quite that stuck up about life. That comparison brought to mind some of his own childhood mishaps and he suddenly felt he needed no further information.

"She doesn't make you help out or anything?" Remus hadn't known Molly Weasley well, but that didn't seem like her.

"Oh, she does. Just not in the kitchen. I think she specifically keeps us all busy so we don't invade her space."

Remus nodded. Understandable. "Well, you seem smart. I'm sure we can figure this out."

Percy puffed up a little at the praise and immediately set to scouring through the book.

Remus finished cleaning up their earlier attempts at cooking and wondered if he ought to have learned at some point. Probably.

The twins' heads finally emerged from the cupboards they had buried themselves in, and their arms were full of various food items. Remus decided they ought to only bother with the foods they could identify, or least read labels on, so a bunch of foreign looking foods and foods with labels in a variety of languages were put back.

"Spaghetti. We can do spaghetti."

How hard could it be? Boiling water was simple enough.

It may have taken five of them, but they had managed to make dinner. The pasta was a little soft, and they had narrowly avoided a mishap with the pot on the stove, but in the end they prevailed.

Percy had found a charm to instantly bring water to a boil, and Ron had insisted that you weren't supposed to watch a pot of water. None of them had anything to refute that statement with, so they had ignored the pot until it became clear that the water was very nearly gone. In the end, however, no additional fires had been made, there was edible food on the table, and five wizards resolved to learn something about the previously under-appreciated skill.

A few weeks after the incident, Molly Weasley would read some of the most touching letters from her children she had ever received. They were similar in ways to ones she had received from Bill and from Charlie at some point after each had left home, but these letter were special in that they contained pleas from her children to help them learn how to cook. Maybe it was time to try again. They were older now, so perhaps they would learn something and be able to help her rather than risk setting the house on fire.

A few more weeks after that, Fred and George received a letter from their sister, telling them that it was all their fault. She wasn't sure how it was their fault, but she was sure they had something to do with it. It took them a bit to figure out what she was saying, but they eventually realized (with the help of Percy who they had reluctantly gone to), that she was their mother's guinea pig when it came to passing on her cooking skills. Ginny was apparently less than pleased with the arrangement, and promised to get even with each of them over the summer. Percy was certain this was the first time he had ever been threatened in a letter sent to the twins, and he wasn't sure he liked that development, and Ron decided that since he was the next youngest, he'd have the best chance of joining up with his sister against his brothers, so as to avoid her wrath. It was the smart thing to do.

December 31, 1991 Malfoy Manor

At least Sirius was here too.

That's all Harry could think as he was introduced to dozens of people he probably wouldn't remember past tonight. Ivy, completely devoid of sympathy for his current plight, had run off with her friends, and he and Sirius had found themselves practically swarmed by people from the moment they entered.

In what was certainly a turn of events, he and Sirius both let a small sigh of relief at the sight of Narcissa Malfoy. Sirius dragged Harry (who went quite happily) over to his cousin and introduced them. Harry greeted Lady Malfoy with all the correct manners that had been drilled into his head by another Narcissa Malfoy and her sister (Andy, not the other, crazy one).

Harry was a little surprised to see Sirius so eager to greet Narcissa, but he supposed they were family, regardless of what sides they had fallen on in the past. Harry had heard Sirius complain about most of his family, but now that he thought about it, he couldn't actually think of a time when Sirius (either of them) had complained about Narcissa directly. Lucius, yes. But never Narcissa. Since Ivy was apparently set on being friends with Draco Malfoy, at least Harry could be reassured that Narcissa was likely as great as she had turned out to be in his world.

Lucius, on the other hand…

When the man wasn't trying to kill him, it was actually quite a bit of fun to goad him. That might not have helped the whole now-he's-trying-to-kill-me-again thing, but that was neither here nor there. Sirius must have thought so as well since he wasted absolutely no time provoking the man.

For all his Slytherin cunning Harry wasn't sure Lord Malfoy hid his emotions all that well. The man was gritting his teeth, but was obviously holding back from responding in kind. Harry noticed that Malfoy's eyes kept glancing over to where Harry stood. He wondered why, and then the thought struck him that Malfoy probably wanted to make a good impression on him. Oh, this was rich. Harry used every bit of his willpower to not let out a chuckle. Lucius Malfoy. Wanting to make a good impression on him. Oh, how things changed. A perk of accidental interdimensional travel Harry supposed.

Right when it appeared that Malfoy was going to head in his direction, Harry was saved from the encounter by none other than Blaise Zabini's mother, whose name he couldn't recall for the life of him. At this point, he couldn't even remember if he had already been introduced to her this evening.

After the customary introductions were made (that answered that question at least), Harry prepared himself for the likelihood that he would have to endure some amount of flirtation, assuming, of course, that she was currently in between husbands. To his surprise, and utter delight, the first words she spoke to him after the normal pleasantries were altogether different than what he had been expecting.

"You are friends with Lord Black, are you not?"

Harry nodded, and Madam Zabini hmmed in response. "And is he quite single?"

It was at this moment, after preventing his mouth from hanging open, that Harry began to feel a sense of delight. As he had told Sirius, if he was going to be dragged to these sorts of things, he was taking Sirius down with him. And after all the teasing Sirius had done…

"Oh, yes, very single." She seemed pleased with this response. "Are the two of you acquainted?"

(Please say yes, please say yes, please say…)

"Yes…"

Cue mental notation of triumph.

"…But of course, it has been such a long time."

Harry nodded seriously while inside cackling gleefully. Oh, it was on.

"And are you…single?"

Madam Zabini smirked a little at the underlying question. "Yes, my husband recently passed away."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"You wouldn't be if you had known him."

Grieving widow indeed. "Oh?"

She offered no response, instead choosing to look intently in the direction of Sirius and Malfoy. Sirius must have felt eyes on him because he turned at just that moment and made eye contact first with Harry, and then with Madam Zabini. His eyes narrowed, and he excused himself from his conversation with Malfoy, who did not look at all upset to have the little chat brought to an end.

A moment later he appeared in front of them.

"Hello, Sirius," Madam Zabini said, offering him her hand, which he dutifully kissed.

"Sabrina," he said, as he raised his head again. Harry noticed that neither moved their hands with any haste. Interesting.

The next fifteen minutes were nothing short of a duel. It was the best part of Harry's night so far, and he absently wondered if there was any popcorn available. The best part was that neither of them seemed to notice his continued presence, so he had a front row seat to the entire discussion, even when their voices became whispered and harsh.

They threw flirtations and insults at each other in equal measure, and Harry determined to give Remus the memory when he got home.

As their conversation began to wind down, Harry decided that now was as good a time as any to add his own bit to the dialogue.

"So, how long have you two known each other?"

Both had the decency to look a little taken aback at the fact that they had conducted their entire verbal spar with such a close audience, but when Sirius saw the smug look on Harry's face he gave a little scowl.

"Oh, we've known each other for ages," said Madam Zabini, or Sabrina, as Harry was prone to think of her now. Some things you can't witness without changing how you view a person.

"She was a year above me in school," Sirius explained, beginning to look a little uncomfortable.

Sabrina snorted. Elegantly, of course, but it was there. "Is that what they call it now?"

Harry caught onto that insinuation fairly quickly. He grinned at Sirius, who was beginning to show signs of a slight blush creeping up.

"So, how's your husband?"

Sabrina narrowed her eyes slightly. "Quite deceased, thank you."

"Oh, another one? How many is that now?"

"Five."

"And this one met a suitable end, I'm sure."

There was no question, only a statement, but Sabrina nodded her agreement. "Nothing less than he deserved."

Sirius's mouth quirked up a little at that. "I would expect nothing less."

The look they exchanged at this point, in contrast to their very recent near battle of words left Harry feeling like a bit of an intruder. He made excuses, but needn't have bothered. Neither of them noticed him leave.

Escaping the party was less challenging than he had anticipated. He hadn't been sure if he would be able to do so at all, given the number of people supposedly eager to speak with him (though he had far too much experience with that kind of attention to put any stock in it). But after a while the apparent novelty of his presence abated, for which he was grateful, and he made his escape.

He had a basic understanding of where the diary was located, but given his desire for this particular scheme to be over with as quickly as possible, he got within the general vicinity of where he believed the diary to be before casting a (rather overpowered) accio. Now, Malfoy certainly wasn't stupid, so Harry knew better than to expect that to actually work, which it didn't. At least, not in the way the spell was typically used. What it did do, however, was alert him to the precise location of the localized wards surrounding the diary.

In truth, he could have made quick work of the wards, but he wanted to be able to put them back in such a way that no one would be the wiser. That required a slightly more delicate approach. He still remembered the look on Bill's face the first time he had simply torn through a series of wards. He was pretty sure his own face had resembled a kicked puppy after Bill's (rather lengthy) explanation as to why you didn't just do that. Fleur had made it all better though, by providing them both with some sort of pudding that was French, unpronounceable, but chocolate and therefore delicious.

Hopefully, the two of them would get together in this world. Perhaps he could help.

At last, the wards were down, and the diary was retrieved. Tempted as he was to dispose of it right then and there, Harry knew deep down that it would be best to wait, rather than risk alerting anyone to his actions or to any accident that might happen. He didn't think the Malfoy's would appreciate their house burning down, regardless of whether not it was an accident or for a good cause.

Thankfully the wards were easier to reassemble than to take down, and it was not long before Harry was able to leave Malfoy's office, diary safely tucked away. He poked his head out the door and checked to make sure there was no one in sight. That would have been awkward and inevitably led to questions he would rather not have to make up answers for.

Having made it back to the party with no one the wiser by the looks of it, Harry resigned himself to spend another couple hours mingling with people he didn't know, or worse, a few people he did. His efforts to find Sirius were in vain, and someone eventually informed him that Lord Black had requested they let him know that he had left and would see him tomorrow. Traitor. Harry didn't see Madam Zabini anywhere either, so he had some idea what had prompted Sirius's departure.

Wondering if it would be bad form to find Narcissa and just stick by her side for the rest of the evening, Harry decided that the prospect of spending time with one of the maybe three people he felt he could have a decent conversation with in the room was worth any breach of manners that would come from potentially monopolizing his hostess's attention. Before he could make his way over to her, however, he was stopped by her husband, who Harry was much less eager to converse with. Besides, he had just broken into the man's office, and that made the situation a little awkward, even if only on his end.

After the customary small talk and inquiries and other usual conversational nonsense that was an unfortunate part of life, Harry managed to steer the topic to the one thing he could think of that wouldn't involve personal questions from his host. Lucius Malfoy may have never made it high on Harry's list (death attempts have a tendency to do that), but if there was one thing he knew, it was that Malfoy loved his family more than anything else. And so, Harry skillfully (in his opinion) turned the conversation to Draco. He felt he had a valid reason for doing so, since Malfoy Jr. was one of Ivy's best friends. Lucius seemed pleased with the inquiry, and Harry mentally patted himself on the back for the move.

In a rather short space of time Harry had learned more about young Draco Malfoy than he ever had before. He'd have to go to Narcissa to get the good, embarrassing stories, but Lucius was more than happy to talk about his son. Harry shared some of what Ivy had shared with him about Draco, leaving out her friend's tendency to rant for extended periods of time about a great variety of things. He instead focused on what Ivy had said about Draco being good at potions, a good friend, and yet another quidditch obsessed individual (Harry phrased it a little differently, because obviously that wasn't a bad thing).

In what was one of the stranger moments of his life in this new universe, he found himself laughing with Lucius Malfoy over their children's antics. Then he realized that he really did view Ivy as his kid. In a way it had always been like that, but at the same time, she was technically this universe's version of him. There was probably some kind of philosophical or psychological something or other to be analyzed, but Harry chose instead to simply embrace the feeling and ignore the question of whether or not it was weird that he was raising his alternate self while considering that same alternate self to be his child.

Then Harry made the mistake of making some comment about how he was glad Hogwarts was still standing, and that led to a mutual realization between him and Malfoy that they hadn't actually seen the kids all evening. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal, but it was getting late and there was too much sugar readily available for there to be any guarantees. Looking at each other and nodding, they set off together to check on the kids. More likely than not things were fine, but, well, it never hurts to check, right? Just in case?

In yet another surreal moment of the night, Harry found himself staring at the disaster zone that was the room the kids had apparently taken over. Some faces he recognized, and some he didn't, but there were at least twenty children of varying ages engaged in some type of mock battle. It didn't take long to determine the ringleaders. Ivy, of course, because who else would have had the idea in the first place, and Theo Nott, to both Harry and Lucius's surprise. The two children were apparently leading their respective "armies" against each other in what might possibly have been some type of reenactment.

"I don't think I've ever seen Theo that loud," Lucius remarked.

Harry glanced at him.

"He's normally the quiet one," Lucius explained.

Harry nodded. "Well, Ivy has a tendency to bring out…" The worst? Best? "…enthusiasm in others."

They both grimaced as Goyle tripped over a cushion and knocked his head on a chair arm.

"Well, they look fine," Lucius said.

Harry gave him a look that said he clearly did not believe the situation was fine.

"Well, no one looks injured," Lucius amended, clearly ignoring the injury they had just witnessed. "There's no blood, at least."

That was technically true, but Harry was still surprised that Lucius Malfoy, the poster child of pureblood elitism, was content to have his son and a score of other children wage war in his house.

"And you're sure this," Harry gestured to the overall destruction that filled the room, "is alright?"

Malfoy stared at it for a moment. "It's fine," he said, before turning around and heading back in the direction of the main ballroom. "We don't keep anything important in that room."

Harry could understand that, even if he was surprised that Lucius Malfoy was apparently the type of person to embrace such an idea.

As they arrived back in the Ballroom, they are greeted by Narcissa, who questioned Lucius with a look.

"Just checking on the children."

Narcissa smiled. "And how are they?"

"They've kept to the blue room."

"Wonderful," Narcissa beamed. "I'm so glad they found something to amuse themselves with."

Harry personally thought that a mock battle reenactment or whatever was taking place in the ironically named blue room (honestly, hadn't most of the things in the room been red?) went a bit beyond simple "amusements." But maybe this was normal? His own past experiences with children he had recognized led him to think otherwise, but Ivy had probably had something to do with it, and it made sense that even pureblood, Slytherin children sometimes acted like…well, children. Chaos and destruction included.

At least there were no magical creatures for Ivy to…

Wait. He had explicitly told her to leave Tiger at home, right? He racked his brain for a memory of him doing just that, but could not think of one. There had been the don't-bring-exploding-sweets talk, and the don't-give-color-pellets-to-the-peacocks speech, but he couldn't recall actually telling Ivy not to bring Tiger, and he was in no way prepared to assume that she would have taken it as a matter of course that you don't bring your venomous snake to a house party.

With a quick apology to both Malfoys, he dashed back in the direction of the war…er, "blue room," and thrust open the door. Twenty or so pairs of eyes suddenly focused on him.

"This is Henry," Ivy helpfully said. Everyone present slowly nodded their heads in understanding.

Harry cleared his throat and chuckled nervously. "Umm, hi everyone. Hey, Ivy, could I talk to you for a second?"

The young Nott scion took that moment to call a dramatic ceasefire, and Ivy bounced over to where Harry stood.

"Hey, Ives, did you bring Tiger with you?"

"Of course. Tracey would have been sad if I didn't."

"Tracey would have… Okay. That's fine. Perfectly fine. And everyone here is okay with him?"

"Oh yes. They love Tiger. Well, Linus not so much, but he knows not to be mean to Tracey now, so it's all okay."

Harry truly didn't want to know, even though he knew he should probably ask. He would ask later. Some undetermined point in the future, perhaps. "Right. Okay. So where is Tiger now?"

Ivy pointed to a corner of the room where a (very young) Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass say cooing over something that was undoubtedly Tiger. What was it with Tiger that set all the girls cooing over him? It was one of the great mysteries of the universe, Harry supposed. And had these people all been this…small in his world? Most likely, but then again he had been the same size. Now they just looked so tiny. It was a little disconcerting if he were to be completely honest.

He walked up to where the girls sat with the magical, highly venomous snake. "Are you two all right with Tiger?" He needed to double check, purely for his own comfort of mind.

"Oh yes. Tiger is the best," Tracey said. Daphne nodded her assent.

§Yess, I am. And thesse oness are sso nisse. Sso ssoft and warm.§

Harry rolled his eyes. §You think anyone who petss you iss nisse.§

§Not everyone. Sstupid sshopkeeper wass not nisse.§

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping the snake wasn't about to launch into another rant about the shopkeeper who kept feeding him the wrong things and petting him the wrong way. Then he realized what had just happened and looked up to see two pairs of wide eyes staring up at him. He smiled sheepishly, contemplating the ethics of obliviating a room full of children.

"You can talk to him?" Tracey spoke loudly enough that everyone in the room heard. Lovely.

"Umm, yes?"

Now, once again, all eyes were fixed on him, this time with the added benefit of several mouths hanging open.

No one spoke for a minute, but then Tracey blurted out, "that is so cool!"

Well that was one response he didn't normally get.

Ten minutes later he had answered dozens of questions. At least they all seemed happy and interested, instead of scared and horrified. That was something, at least. Yes, he had always been able to speak to snakes. No, he wasn't sure if he was descended from Salazar Slytherin (Harry mentally shuddered at the memory of Slytherin's face in the Chamber of Secrets). No, he couldn't command an army of snakes (Daphne looked a little more than saddened by that admission and he unconsciously took a step away). Yes, he agreed it was absolutely wicked.

Then the children began asking questions for Tiger, with Harry acting as translator. He may or may not have filtered out a few of the snake's responses, and made a mental note to tell Ivy which words should not be repeated. Ever. Where had the snake even learned some of those?

Someone mentioned Tiger hanging out in the fifth year boys dorm, and that question was answered.

It took the countdown to midnight for Harry to finally be able to extract himself from the group of snake enthusiasts. Ultimately it was Narcissa to the rescue, as she came to fetch everyone in for the countdown, and the children dutifully exited their war zone as Narcissa lazily waved her wand, restoring things back to their proper place.

Harry absently watched as the new year was rung in, and at the soonest polite time, took his exit, Ivy and Tiger in tow.

It had been one eventful evening, that was for sure.