January 3, 1994

"Are you sure we need to meet today? It's only the first day back. We haven't even had herbology yet this term."

Neville was all for promoting the study of herbology, his favorite and best subject, but this felt a bit unnecessary.

"But we have so much to talk about," Susan replied.

Millie nodded along, a slightly dreamy look in her eye that Neville couldn't figure out.

Well at least now he'd have an excuse for getting out of the potion study group. He missed Draco being in charge of it. Draco didn't share the same dorm as him.

Unless Cedric Diggory had become a variety of plant when Neville wasn't looking, they were seriously off topic.

"Hannah, why are they still talking about Cedric?"

Hannah looked at him apologetically. "They're just sharing their… appreciation for Cedric's… face? Sorry, they just all have massive crushes on him, you know. Everyone does."

Neville did not know this. "You too?"

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "Our mums are friends so he's more like an older brother or cousin or something. Besides, I saw him run away from a bumblebee and face plant it in the mud when he was ten, and honestly I don't think I'll ever get that picture out of my mind."

Neville nodded. "Wait, is that why there are so many girls here now?"

Their herbology group had grown, but now he was wondering how much of that was due to an interest in plants and how much was due to an interest in Cedric Diggory. He sighed and resigned himself to his fate, supposing there were worse fates to have.

January 5, 1994

"I hit two hundred," Barty announced proudly.

Remus snorted. "Of course you did."

Harry, sitting on the other side of the room, felt his eye twitch.

"Two hundred and one," Luna said.

Luna cast another heating charm on a grateful Barty.

"It's not this cold in Crete," he muttered.

"Relax, you only have a few more days before you head back," Remus said from behind his paper. "Ten letters for instrument used to copy at a different scale?"

"Pantograph,"Luna replied promptly.

"Thanks," Remus said, filling in the crossword.

"So…" Barty began. "Any word on the Barty Crouch investigation?"

Harry gave him an unimpressed look. "Why, you preparing your defense?"

"No, and it would be belated self-defense, thank you very much," Barty quipped.

"That's not a… Why do I even bother," Harry muttered.

"This is why he's Luna's minion, you realize," Remus said unhelpfully, and, ignoring Harry's scowl, continued on. "A model of pantograph then."

"Paragon," Luna said, answering Remus.

"The annoyed leftovers?"

Barty gestured to Harry who threw a pillow at his face.

"Pht," said Luna.

"How on earth are you figuring that out?" Harry asked.

"It's alright, my lord," Barty said cheekily, placing a hand over his heart. "We can't all be geniuses."

Harry summoned the pillow back and threw it again.

January 8, 1994

"How was your Christmas? I feel like I haven't seen you all week!" Ivy exclaimed, plopping down beside him. If only he could find a spell that would transfer some of that energy over to him… Maybe that could be his and Percy's next project.

"Hmm? Oh, it was good. Good, yeah. Yours?"

"It was good. How was France?"

"It was nice, yeah. Just fine. How was New Years Eve? I heard it turned into quite the spectacle."

"We had to take it outside once Blaise snuck Dante in. Although I think it might have had more to do with the the fire breathing dragon outfit he and Theo were trying to put on him."

Thomas snorted.

"How's Adélie?"

Then he sputtered. "Fine," he called out a little too fast and a little too loudly. "Oh, would you look at the time. I have to, er, well, studying, you see. Library. Don't set anything on fire while I'm gone."

It wasn't his best exit ever, but it served its purpose.

"You know you are going to have to tell her eventually, right?"

Percy was being decidedly unhelpful, and hadn't even looked up from his essay.

"Not yet I don't," Thomas muttered. Ivy did not need to find out about his not-really-girlfriend. Ever.

"I suppose not. You can always wait until she's the godmother of your firstborn child."

Well, he wouldn't be much of a Slytherin if he didn't at least consider every possibility.

"Did he really say he was going to teach you?"

"He's going to teach me."

"But did he say that?"

"He will."

Draco sighed. This was getting him nowhere. "Well, I suppose it would be a rather useful skill to have. And if Sirius could manage it I don't see why I could not."

"Sirius is brilliant," Ivy stated matter-of-factly.

Draco ignored that statement. "And I suppose it would be nice to have something to do after graduation," he mused.

"Oh no, we're doing it this summer," Ivy said.

"Excuse me?" Draco demanded, incredulity dripping from his voice. "I think I heard you wrong. You, thirteen-year-old you, is going to try to become an animagusthis summer?"

"Well, I'm almost fourteen."

"It's January, Ivy."

"And compared with the long, slow passage of time, I am almost fourteen."

"Well just so long as you're not doing it without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

February 5, 1994

"A well-played game, Mr. Wood, most excellent. Might we have a few moments of your time?"

The rest of the team watched as Oliver headed over to talk to the third quidditch team representative of the day.

"They grow up so fast," George said, wiping a fake tear away before glancing down. "Well, some of us, at least."

Ivy elbowed him in the stomach at that.

"Where did you come from?" Angelina asked, looking down at Ivy who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Actually, never mind. I don't want to know. These two will try and recruit me again," she said, jabbing a thumb in Fred's direction.

Fred put a hand over his heart and made his best impression of innocence.

George patted Ivy's head. "There is still hope for you," he said comfortingly.

"Not much, mind you," Fred interjected.

"But a little," George concluded.

Ivy just glared, although the angle at which she had to look up to do so lessened the effectiveness somewhat.

A few minutes later Oliver returned and got only a "I'm going to climb on your shoulders now" in warning before Ivy preceded to do just that.

"Er…"

The chasers all burst out laughing at Oliver's mixed look of confusion and resignation as Ivy settled atop his shoulders.

"Right… Well then. Lockers, everyone? Or…" He glanced up at his passenger.

"On it," the twins shouted together, before drenching the two in water and taking off.

"He wants to. He really wants to."

"He does have that look in his eye, doesn't he Gred."

"He does indeed. Do you suppose he's finally cracked?"

"Stop bothering your brother," Madam Pomfrey said, interrupting whatever answer Fred was about to give. "Now, tongues out. Honestly, soaking wet in February."

"I would just like to say that this was not my fault," Oliver piped up from his bed.

"It's true," Katie chimed in.

"Why are you even here?" Percy asked her.

Katie shrugged. "I saw an opportunity and I took it." She and Ivy high-fived from the beds they had pulled close together.

"And people wonder why we never prank her," Fred said, giving Katie a suspicious look.

"Vicious, that one," George said, nodding.

"Tongues," Madam Pomfrey demanded again. The twins immediately complied, not wanting to risk her wrath further.

"Is it too much to ask that you never do anything troublesome ever again?" Percy pleaded.

"Yes," came the joint response from Oliver, Katie, and Ivy. Fred and George, still being subjected to Madam Pomfrey's ministrations and therefore unable to reply, did manage to convey their feelings on the matter nonetheless.

"And you're sure you are fine? No lingering symptoms?"

"I'm fine, Sirius," Ivy assured him, rolling her eyes. "It was just a bit of water."

"It'sFebruary," Sirius said. "You could, I don't know, come down with something."

"But I didn't, and it's fine. I'm fine," Ivy said once again.

"Well, you'd better be," Sirius grumbled. "I don't want to have to be the one to tell your dad…" he trailed off, shuddering.

"Oh, not you too," Ivy groaned. "What is it with everyone and thinking he's scary? Percy was convinced Dad was going to suddenly show up and yell at him or something. Honestly, it's just a little cold."

"Ha!"

"That's already taken care of. See?" Ivy sniffed to prove her point. "Completely fine."

Sirius did not look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue the point further.

Ivy sighed, loudly. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Hmm, what?"

"Why everyone thinks Dad is suddenly the scariest person around or something."

Ivy heard Sirius mutter something about "…is the scariest…" but couldn't quite make it all out.

"Come on, Padfoot," Ivy said in her best you-can-absolutely-trust-me-with-the-secrets-of-the-universe tone. By the look on her godfather's face it still needed some work.

"You weren'tthere, Ives. You have no idea how absolutely terrifying…"

Well that was a start. She could work with that.

February 12, 1994

Severus glared at a particular stone on the floor as if it were personally responsible for the headache he had been carrying for the past three months. Albus Dumbledore was the stubbornest bastard he had ever had the displeasure of attempting to reason with, and he had given up entirely on trying to say things another way in hopes of actually convincing the man of anything. Even after seeing a half dozen memories, the headmaster was still not convinced that Peverell was not, in fact, in any way associated with the Dark Lord, or that he was indeed protecting Ivy Potter and not involved in some convoluted, roundabout plot that would end in her demise and his takeover of the world.

Severus very carefully did not point out that Peverell had sort of taken over already, even if mostly on accident, seeing as that would not have accomplished anything worthwhile. Perhaps if he was feeling bored and moderately suicidal some day in the distant future he would bring up that little fact, but for now he would keep his peace on that particular point.

For now he would simply resign himself to the occasional mandatory talks with the stone wall that was Albus Dumbledore.

It was frustrating to no end, and even pulling out his final card had done nothing to assuage the old wizard's suspicions and accusations.

He had hoped (even if not with particular optimism), that informing Albus of the destruction of the horcruxes would have finally convinced the man that Voldemort was indeed gone for good.

But no. Instead Severus now feared the weight of Dumbledore's ire and suspicion was turned towards him. Especially when he would not directly confirm the existence of a horcrux in the famous scar. That had been Peverell's one condition for agreeing to Severus's scheme to bring up the topic of horcruxes with the headmaster, and Severus had a healthy enough sense of self-preservation to comply. Especially since the New Year's Eve incident…

He had not entirely understand Peverell's desire for that particular withholding until Albus had brought up the prophecy. Albus had, of course, alluded to the fact thatSeveruswas the one who had overheard and reported on it in the first place, before telling him that there was more to it than he knew. Severus hadn't bothered to tell him that he did, in fact, know more of it, since that was rather counterproductive to his overall goals, but he had made a snide comment about whether the prophecy was even still in effect.

He was fairly certain that had been a mistake, but he would withhold final judgment for now. On the one hand, Dumbledore was no longer droning on about the same thing for the umpteenth time this term. On the other hand, Dumbledore had made a swift and not entirely graceful exit from Hogwarts, with the Hall of Prophecies as his obvious destination.

Severus knew exactly what he would find there, which was nothing, which would no doubt lead to more conspiracies and plans and headaches (at least for him).

And when Peverell found out…

Well hopefully he wouldn't be too upset.

Severus reasoned to himself that Dumbledore was bound to find out about the missing prophecyeventually. And it wasn't likely that Peverell would be so upset as to do anythingtoodrastic. But the man was the most magically powerful wizard Severus had ever encountered by far, and had somehow ended up the most politically powerful wizard in Britain as well. The fact that it had been mostly on accident did not detract in any way from the fact that the man born Harry James Potter (which Severus could now think to himself without shuddering), had the support of an overwhelming majority of the heads of the extant Sacred Twenty-Eight families and other titled lines, as well as a basis of support that extended across all the major political and ideological factions in wizarding Britain.

Essentially, Potter/Peverell was stupidly powerful and it would not do to anger him unnecessarily.

With that in mind perhaps a quick note was in order…

February 17, 1994

Harry threw yet another balled up piece of parchment in the fire he had created a few minutes or hours ago for that express purpose.

How do you convince a man who lived most of his adult life as a spy beholden to one manipulator or another that even if you are mildly annoyed it's not, for the most part, directed at him and is certainly not going to result in his death or torture or whatever else Snape seemed to think Harry was going to do.

He was slowly getting used to dealing with this sort of thing from some of the wizards Lucius, Simon, and Alden kept "inviting" to their little get-togethers-that-weren't-really-meetings, but Snape? Really?

And it shouldn't be this hard to write a letter that assured the recipient you weren't about to murder them.

And yet it was, he thought, throwing another one in the fire.

"Luna, can you read this and see if it sounds alright?"

Luna took the proffered parchment and read through it quickly. Short, sweet, and completely devoid of murderous undertones was what Harry was aiming for here, and he really hoped the ten word body of his letter was sufficient.

Luna handed it back to him. "It seems fine to me."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thanks. Why is he being so apologetic about this anyway, do you think? The rest of us have let far worse things out before, and it's not like Dumbledore can really do anything about it anyway."

Luna opened her mouth but Harry interrupted.

"I realize as I said that that I should probably amend it to Sirius and I. Maybe Remus, I don't know. But really, does Snape honestly think I'm going to have a major freak out simply because he let a small detail slide?" He looked at his wife sheepishly. "Right, sorry."

"I don't know," Luna said, "but perhaps Sirius might? Or Remus? He and Severus seem to get along quite well now."

Harry wrinkled his nose a bit as he considered the many things that had led to Remus Lupin and Severus Snape of all peoplegetting alongas Luna called it. "Remus is probably the safer bet," he mused.

"Oh, is that something we need to consider?"

"You seriously have no idea, do you," Remus said.

Harry firmly resisted the urge to squirm in his seat. He was an adult.

"Er, no?"

Not the best answer he could have given, but too late to go back now.

Remus stared at him a moment longer. "Remember New Years?" he said finally. "At the Malfoy's?"

"When I got upset at the kids for sneaking two wolves indoors?"

Remus looked at him as if he were being deliberately obtuse. He wasn't, just to be clear, but he didn't really have anyone to point that out to at the moment.

"Or not…"

"Perhaps we ought to take a little trip to the pensieve? I believe you keep it around here somewhere."

Harry followed, slightly bemused but knowing Remus's request that wasn't really a request would give him answers soon enough.

A few moments and one slightly cringeworthy pensieve experience later, Harry understood.

"Do I really look like that?" he asked Luna, who had come in unnoticed at some point.

"I thought you looked rather handsome," Luna replied.

Harry beamed, Remus's eye twitched, and somewhere many miles away another wizard paused and added a tick mark to his mental tally. It may not be the main list, but it was worth tracking regardless.

Somewhere else, another group of wizards exited a pensieve, all but one shuddering as they did so.

"And so you see, gentlemen," the speaker said, with a tone that denoted exactly how gentlemanly he found the other men, "it would really be in your best interests to carry on as you have. No need to disrupt the order of your lives with such trivial nonsense as petty revenge or retaliation."

Convinced that the pitiful wizards in front of him understood what he required of them, the speaker dismissed them with a wave of his hand before gathering up the pensieve and other props he had brought for the occasion.

Three more would-be continued Death Eaters down.

And if Abraxas Malfoy was rolling over in his grave slightly, well, all the better.

Augusta indulged in one more pensieve viewing. Entertainment had to be foundsomewhere, and Merlin knows after today's Wizengamot session she deserved some sort of reward for doing her part to ensure all the idiots made it out alive.

She entered the oft-viewed memory with well hidden glee, more out of habit than the fear anyone would somehow discern such an uncontrolled emotion.

She watched as her boys made their way through the throng of people, each doing their best to find pleasure in that evening's events. Sirius and Henry stuck close by their respective partners, as the young and in love are wont to do. Remus was whisked out of the main ballroom as quickly as good manners would allow by wizards equally anxious to avoid too much noise and small talk. Barty, though only truly known to a few, mingled well among the crowd and was a favorite of many a young witch before long.

And then the good part began.

A small comment here, a minor insinuation there, and one increasingly irritated Lord Peverell-Slytherin in the middle. She would have almost felt bad for the poor fools who had opened their mouths if it had not provided her with such amusement over the past two and a half months.

She knew the rate at which Henry's anger increased in this scene so well by this point, that the faint glow that emanated from him was easily spotted far sooner than it had been on the occasion itself. Indeed, she could now note every tell the incensed wizard gave in the time leading up to The Moment, as she termed it in her mind.

Ah, and here it was at last.

Despite having seen the memory dozens of times since the initial incident, her attention was focused solely on Henry and the sheer power radiating from him. Even in memory form it was poignant.

"I will protect my daughter from anyone and everything that might foolishly attempt to bring her harm," she mouthed along with the memory version of Henry at her favorite part of the memory. If she mimicked the quiet and low, yet piercing tone, no one would ever know. She turned her attention away from him to enjoy the looks on some of the other faces in the room. You could have heard a feather drop at that moment, and faces conveyed more than words could in many instances anyway.

"What would you do?"

Augusta had to give some credit to the wizard who had asked, seeing as he had managed to sound not completely timid and apprehensive.

And then Henry let out a deep, dry chuckle, and she could feel the shivers in the room.

"Never ask what someone would do," Henry said, looking every bit the powerful wizard he was. "Ask what they have already done." It was her other favorite line of the memory without question.

And with that, Henry turned back to Luna and one of their other friends and continued whatever conversation they had been partaking in before The Moment as if nothing of note had happened at all. With that the tension and feel of static magic in the air was broken, though it took many people far longer to fully recover, and, if some of the looks Augusta remembered being thrown Henry's way the remainder of the evening were any indication, some did not recover entirely at all.

She exited the memory, satisfied that something was worth observing today at least.