Author's Note: Apologies for the month-long delay between chapters! I hope you enjoy the latest installment.

THE STARS ARE DIFFERENT HERE

Chapter Nine: Prophecies, Cloaks, and Maps

Gold plates bearing food from the Great Hall had appeared in Professor McGonagall's office not long ago, accompanied by enormous goblets of pumpkin juice and water. Harry hardly touched his dinner, nor did Professor McGonagall or Snape. Sirius, meanwhile, attacked his meal with gusto, dispensing with utensils entirely and instead shoveling handfuls directly into his mouth.

"Sorry," he managed to say through a mouthful of steak and kidney pie. "It's been a while."

Professor McGonagall simply nodded and motioned for him to carry on, which he did.

"How did you know we were in the Shrieking Shack?" Harry asked Snape, who watched the proceedings with an inscrutable expression.

"I spotted you on my way back from the forest." To Professor McGonagall, he added, "The Weasley twins were skulking about at the perimeter again."

"They'll be the death of me," she said with a sigh. "If the three of you don't achieve that first."

"I'm certain when that time comes, your portrait will be lovely, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore spoke up from his own frame.

"As reassuring as that may be, hopefully it will be some time until we find out," she replied.

They fell into silence once more, one that was punctuated only by the sounds of Sirius resuming his meal.

"I'd like to recommend that no major decisions be made tonight," Professor McGonagall said after a moment had passed. "There's been a great deal of emotion from everyone, and we all need a good night's sleep before reconvening in the morning."

Harry nodded slowly, and after a moment so did Sirius.

"Did anyone suspect me?" the latter asked after a moment. He didn't direct this question to anyone in particular, instead focusing on the space between them. "Back... then? Was it obvious I was hiding something?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "It came as a great shock."

"What was I like?"

"Intelligent. Brilliantly so."

"Impulsive," Professor Snape added. "Bordering on reckless at times, but not when the stakes were too high to be ignored. I always— one always felt they could depend upon you."

"You say that like we were friends," Sirius said with a laugh. When Snape's already dour expression only soured further, he quickly sobered. "Wait, were we friends?"

"I wouldn't say we were friends, Black." Snape's voice was stiff. "But you were a reliable ally, or at least you seemed to be. I trusted you immensely."

"Oh." Sirius mulled this over. "I'm sorry about that."

"A foolish thing to be sorry for, given you claim to be someone else."

"Well, I'm sorry on his behalf, then. He sounds like a right dick."

Snape didn't deign to respond to this.

"It was a terrible surprise," Professor McGonagall said. "We suspected there was a mole within the Order, but no one suspected you— no one suspected our version of you, that is."

Sirius nodded slowly, deep in thought. "What do you think happened to him when I took over his body?"

No one replied at first. Then Harry said, "I wonder about that sometimes too. I mean, the whole reason Sirius and I are here is because humans can't destroy someone else's soul on their own. If that's true, shouldn't the people we replaced still exist somewhere?"

"Maybe they died. Or maybe they're in our world, in our real bodies." Sirius frowned, discarding this idea as quickly as it arrived. "But no, if the Ministry used the veil to execute people, they'd probably notice if some condemned bloke popped back out with stories about another universe."

"Maybe they were sent into the void, the same as us," Harry suggested. "And a new universe sprang up around them. And the people they replaced in that universe went into the void, and a new universe sprang up around them…" He trailed off. The whole idea made him uneasy.

"As mystifying and intriguing as the concept of infinity is, I'd suggest focusing on the many, more immediate, issues at hand," Professor Snape said, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "But feel free to ponder the subject on your own time, Potter."

Sirius spent that night in a small, unused room near Professor McGonagall's quarters, one the latter assured him was extremely secure. Harry wanted to join him, but both Professors McGonagall and Snape insisted he sleep in his dorm, lest he raise suspicion amongst his fellow Slytherins.

"We could make an excuse," Harry protested as he and Professor Snape made their way downstairs. The corridors were empty, but Snape cast a silent spell that apparently made them impossible to be overheard. "Crabbe and Goyle— no offence, sir, but they probably haven't even noticed I'm missing. And as for the other two, well, they're first years, aren't they? They don't have any reason not to believe what you tell them. Even if they didn't, what's the worst they could do?"

"Forgive me if I hesitate to be persuaded, Potter, given what I hear you managed to achieve during your original first year."

Harry grimaced. "That was different."

"Ah, yes." Snape's tone was even more sarcastic than it had been before. "Things are different when they apply to you, Potter."

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry protested, trying and failing to fight down a wave of anger. "And before we went down the trapdoor, we tried to go to Professor Dumbledore first, and Professor McGonagall, but he was gone, and she didn't believe us. It was a matter of life and death."

Harry paused. It wasn't lost on him that Quirrell and Voldemort would have been unable to retrieve the Stone even if he hadn't turned up (in fact, he'd inadvertently helped them get even closer to obtaining it), but he'd had no way of knowing that at the time.

"We thought it was life or death, at least," he conceded. When Professor Snape still didn't respond, he added, "I meant what I said back in September, by the way. I don't think I'm a celebrity. I don't want special treatment. I just want to be treated like any other student. I am just like any other student."

"I suppose you are, if one forgets the small detail of the time and dimension travel," Professor Snape said flatly, but he didn't insult Harry further. "I do believe you, Potter."

"Yeah?" Harry asked. When Snape glared at him, he thought a moment before rephrasing the question. "You do, sir?"

"Indeed. And I promise to treat you just as I would the multitude of other fifteen-year-olds trapped in a first-year's body flung my way."

Harry snorted, and before he could think too deeply at having laughed at a joke told by Snape, something occurred to him. "Sixteen, actually."

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry shrugged. "I fell through the veil in June, and it was around the same time when I arrived here. It's October now, so at some point I must have turned sixteen."

"Ah." Professor Snape thought this over as they reached the staircase to the dungeons. "I hope you don't expect a birthday party in the common room."

"Absolutely not, sir," Harry reassured him.

"Well, I'm glad we're in agreement on something."

They walked through the dungeon corridors in silence. Few students loitered about, but those who did made themselves scarce as Snape strode past, his expression clearly stating this was not the day to trifle with him.

"You'll tell your dormmates you missed dinner because you were serving detention with me," Snape advised as they grew closer to the common room.

"All right. What shall I tell them I did, then? Can't hurt to have our stories line up." Various ideas sprang to mind. "Maybe I went sneaking about the Forbidden Forest, or tried to duel Peeves—"

"No," Snape vetoed. "Nothing that will give them ideas or make them think you're the hero."

"I don't think trying to duel Peeves necessarily comes off as heroic, sir," Harry argued, but he didn't push the subject too hard. "What do you suggest, then?"

They'd reached the common room, and for a moment they stood there as Professor Snape considered the possibilities.

"You fell off your broom after flying dangerously," he finally decided. "If I hadn't been there to stop your fall, you'd have broken your neck."

"What? I'd never fall off my broom," Harry protested. "Not unless I had a good reason. I'm— sir, I'm not trying to brag, but I'm a good flyer."

"I've seen you tearing across the grounds on those school brooms." Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky you haven't killed yourself yet."

"I haven't because I'm a good flyer— and sir, have you ever tried to fly on one of those brooms?" Harry sighed and said, "Fine. But I'll tell them you only thought I was going to fall off my broom. And I'll tell them you were overreacting."

"Somehow, I think I'll survive that indignity." As Harry turned to the stone wall, Snape motioned for him to wait. "You can also tell your housemates that for talking back, I've assigned you detention every Wednesday for the next month. Perhaps longer, depending on whether or not you've improved your attitude."

"What?" Harry winced as his younger-self's voice cracked.

"My office, every Wednesday evening as soon as you finish dinner," Snape said, then softened so slightly Harry wasn't even sure he had. "Don't be stupid, Potter. You won't be writing lines or scrubbing cauldrons. I imagine we have quite a great deal to catch up on."

The next morning at breakfast, Harry ate as quickly as he could, determined to make it back to Professor McGonagall's office as quickly as possible.

"Have you been taking lessons from Crabbe and Goyle?" Nott asked, looking simultaneously impressed and disgusted.

Harry grunted, finishing the last of his toast. "Just hungry."

"Didn't Professor Snape let you have any dinner last night?" Daphne asked, her face leaning firmly more toward disgusted than impressed.

"A bit," Harry mumbled as he swallowed, then jumped to his feet. "I'm off."

"Where to?" Nott asked, perking up. "Exploring the castle again? Mind if I join?"

"Erm-" Harry tried to think of an excuse, and finally just said, "I'd rather spend today on my own, mate."

"Oh." Nott's expression didn't change, and he turned back to his own breakfast. "Yeah, all right, then."

"Tonight?" Harry offered, already on his feet. "Or tomorrow evening? Gobstones until we drop, I promise."

Running up the marble staircase, Harry nearly slammed into Cedric Diggory, who was on his way downstairs for a late breakfast.

"Careful, Potter!" came Cedric's voice after him. "You nearly took us both out!"

"Sorry," Harry called over his shoulder, not slowing down.

The image of Cedric's face followed him all the way to Professor McGonagall's office. Not only the face he'd just seen, but the blank one in the graveyard he'd just witnessed again last night in the Pensieve. It lingered in his mind even as the gargoyle stepped aside, allowing Harry to hurry upstairs, where Sirius and Professor McGonagall were already waiting.

"All right, then, Harry?" Sirius asked, looking far cleaner and more well rested than he had the night before.

"Yeah." Harry tossed himself into the chair nearest his godfather. "You?"

Sirius just nodded.

Professor Snape arrived shortly after, and as he strode in, Sirius leaned toward Harry. "I know you don't have your cloak." His voice was low. "Is it safe to assume you don't have the map either?"

When Harry shook his head, Sirius turned to the two professors and cleared his throat. "Before we discuss anything, I'd like, as Harry's godfather, to make sure Harry has access to James' Invisibility Cloak. James would have wanted him to have it, and it's saved Harry's life on more than one occasion." Before McGonagall or Snape could speak, he carried on. "There's something more. A bit of parchment. At this point in our world, it would be among Argus Filch's confiscated items."

A pause, as Professors McGonagall and Snape waited for elaboration. When none came, Professor Snape spoke up. "You'll have to give us more information than that, Black."

"Stay out of it. I wasn't asking y-" Sirius said sharply, before catching himself. He closed his eyes, then opened them, and in a more conciliatory tone, he continued, "I'm sorry. When you look at me, you see a different Sirius. When I look at you..."

"We didn't get on, yes, I've gathered that," Professor Snape said flatly. "I'll do my best not to hold a different set of circumstances against you, if you can extend the same courtesy toward me."

Sirius nodded once, then, after a moment, looking as though he hardly believed what he was doing, he stood up and extended his right hand. Professor Snape stared at it, then outstretched his own hand. The handshake between the two men was brief, but not nearly as quick, nor reluctant, as the one they'd exchanged in the hospital wing the night Voldemort returned.

"Right," Professor McGonagall spoke up, breaking the silence that ensued. "Sirius, would you please tell us more about this... parchment?"

Sirius glanced at Harry. Harry glanced at Sirius. They shared a small, nearly imperceptible nod.

"It's a map," Harry said at last. "It shows Hogwarts, and everyone in it. The people are dots, with names alongside them, and they move around."

Another silence, then Professor Snape let out something that almost sounded like a snort, as Professor McGonagall exclaimed, "I knew it."

"Did you?" Sirius asked, tilting his head.

"Not that you had a map, no. But, great Merlin, the amount of mischief you and your friends got up to, all while managing to evade detection..." Her lips twitched. "Despite the many differences between our universes, I suspect this may be a constant factor."

"Haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Professor. We were model students, never an ounce of trouble."

"I saw you with it a couple of times," Professor Snape said. "A tatty piece of parchment. I was never able to get close enough to see what it was, but you were quite protective of it." He paused, gaze sliding toward Harry. "And you'd like an underaged student to keep a constantly updating map of the castle in his possession? The same student who was already caught trying to sneak out of his common room late at night?"

"That was my very first night here," Harry protest. "It was ages ago."

"It was two months ago."

"Exactly! And it isn't as though I was sneaking out to, I don't know, fill the great hall with doxies. I was trying to speak with Professor McGonagall!"

Professor Snape opened his mouth, but Professor McGonagall spoke first. "Before we decide who will safeguard the map, perhaps we should verify that there is, indeed, a map." To Sirius, she added, "You said it was in Argus Filch's office?"

Sirius nodded, and Professor McGonagall made her way to the door. She paused before exiting. "I expect to find you all here in one piece upon my return."

Professor McGonagall hadn't been gone long, but it felt like hours had passed. Sirius examined the slumbering portrait of Professor Dumbledore, and both he and Harry jumped when Professor Snape spoke up.

"He sleeps a great deal, but when he's awake one can sometimes forget it's not truly him." Snape paused. "It sounds like him. It looks like him. It has the same personality, more or less. But..."

Sirius nodded. "The portrait of my mum was like that. At first glance, she was the same vile bat as always. But she water... flatter, I suppose. Not just physically."

"Indeed," Professor Snape said, and they fell silent again until Professor McGonagall returned, a familiar bit of paper in her hand.

Harry hardly noticed it. He was still watching the sleeping former headmaster's portrait. By now, he'd spent enough time in this office to know he heard far more than he let on. "Professor Dumbledore, there's something I need to ask you."

Professor Dumbledore slid upon a single eye, a small smile on his face. "Ask away, my boy."

Harry glanced at Sirius, then back at the portrait. "I need to know about the prophecy."

The room grew very still. Professor Dumbledore gazed down at Harry before saying, quite gently, "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's rubbish," Sirius said loudly, his expression incredulous. "It's the whole reason James and Lily went into hiding!"

"Not here, it wasn't." Professor McGonagall stepped forward, glancing at Professor Dumbledore's portrait. "Unless..."

"Minerva, you have my word that neither I nor the Potters knew anything of a prophecy," he said, suddenly as alert as he'd been when Harry first arrived at Hogwarts over the summer. To Sirius, he asked, "You said it's the reason they went into hiding?"

"Yes! You have to know about it- it's the same prophecy Voldemort was after!" Harry all but exploded. "It's the whole reason he lured us to the Department of Mysteries!"

"Potter." Professor McGonagall's voice was sharp as she placed the Marauder's Map on her desk, fixing Harry with a strange look. "You told me you didn't know what You-Know-Who wanted from the Department of Mysteries."

"That's because I didn't know there was a prophecy until yesterday." Harry jerked his head toward Sirius. "He told me."

"I hardly know anything myself. We weren't told about it at the time. I reckon the only ones who knew were James and Lily..." Sirius trailed off, then turned to Professor Dumbledore's portrait. "And you."

The painting studied him carefully, a heavy expression on its face. "Sirius, Harry, I only wish I had the answers you seek."

"Then..." Harry shook his head. "Why did my parents go into hiding? Why did Voldemort single them out? Why did they die?"

A long pause. Then, his lips parting from their tightly formed line, Professor Snape said, "It was, I believe, partially due to me."

Harry's insides turned cold. "What? But you were working for the Order. You said-"

"Yes, I know what I said. I was working for the Order," Professor Snape snapped. He laced his fingers together, posture particularly straight. "I was also short-sighted. Foolish, even."

"I wouldn't be that harsh on yourself, Severus," Professor McGonagall said quietly.

"I'm perfectly capable of accepting my shortcomings, Headmistress," he shot back.

"He saved the lives of several Order members from certain death," Professor McGonagall explained to Harry and Sirius. "What you may not know is that Professor Snape's status as a double agent was a very tightly kept secret."

"Lily Potter knew," Professor Snape said, nodding in Harry's general direction. "I suspect James Potter did as well. Obviously, Professor Dumbledore was well aware."

"So, what happened?" Harry asked, his breath catching in his throat.

Professor Snape let out a low sigh. "It was an ambush. Despite their best efforts, several order members were cornered. I used a Stunning Spell on their attackers from behind. We were wearing hoods, but I was recognised by my wand."

"If you Stunned the Death Eaters from behind, how did they recognise your wand?" Sirius asked. "Unless..."

A strange silence fell over the room.

"Unless what?" Harry asked, and almost instantly he realised. Slowly, gazing at Sirius, he said, "Were you one of the Order members he saved?"

Sirius stared at Snape. "Was I?"

Another silence, followed by a curt nod.

A stream of swear words that sent the non-snoozing portraits into a tizzy of tutting erupted from Sirius as he simultaneously slammed a hand against the nearest hard surface.

"Indeed," was Professor Snape's only reply.

"So that's another instance I betrayed someone to Voldemort," Sirius said darkly. "Tell me, though, how this led to James and Lily going into hiding."

"They'd always been targets," Professor Snape explained. "Lily in particular. She was a Muggle-born Slytherin attempting to make the house a more welcoming place at the very height of the Dark Lord's reign." He turned to Harry. "And yes, Potter, as much as it continuously seems to astound you, your mother and I were friends."

Harry couldn't find the words to respond, but this didn't seem to matter, as Snape carried right on. "My duplicity infuriated the Dark Lord. No one tricked him- and yet I had. He refused to take that indignity lying down. He planned to kill me, yes, but first he would make me suffer."

"By killing my mum," Harry murmured. "And her entire family."

Another curt nod. "Both my parents were gone by then. I had no relatives of note. The Dark Lord... he knew it would be the most effective way to destroy me before taking my life. He wanted to suitably punish me. Your parents went into hiding, and so did I."

"My mum," Harry said slowly. "You and she weren't just friends. She was your best friend, wasn't she?"

Professor Snape's expression didn't change. "Yes, Potter. I suppose she was."

Harry let this sink in, mulling it over. "But... sir, something doesn't make sense. In my world, I was told the Killing Curse backfired because my mum was given the chance to step aside, and she refused. I've heard her voice the night she died. It's what I hear when I'm near Dementors; I hear both my parents. Voldemort gave her the choice to live, if she stopped trying to protect me. If he was trying to punish you, why would he let her live?"

Professor Snape stared at Harry, as though seriously considering what he was about to say.

"Go on," Harry urged. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. It's not knowing things that drives me mad."

"I don't know for certain, Potter," Professor Snape said carefully. "But... I suspect the Dark Lord was not opposed to keeping your mother alive indefinitely."

"You mean... to torture her?"

"Perhaps. As I said, she was a Slytherin Muggle-born violently opposed to the cause. The Dark Lord found her existence especially detestable. If he wanted to punish both her and I... well, there's more than one way to break a soul."

Harry nodded. He didn't ask for further elaboration.

"You said you were partially to blame for my parents dying," he said at last. "But you're not. You tried to save someone's life. It's..."

It's the sort of thing I would have done, he thought, but couldn't bring himself to say aloud.

"I appreciate the exoneration, Potter." The reply was dripping with sarcasm, but not nearly as barbed as Harry might have expected.

"He's right." Professor McGonagall said. She turned to Sirius, her familiar steeliness slipping into her tone. "And as for you, I hope you realise you aren't to blame for the actions of an entirely different Sirius Black. I won't have you moping about when there's work to be done."

They'd reached several decisions by dinner.

"I will safeguard the map," Professor McGonagall declared. "Professor Snape will safeguard the Invisibility Cloak. During the summer holidays, Potter, you may do with them what you will. If, while at school, you find yourself in a desperate, life-or-death need to use either we will hand them over, no questions asked."

"Really?" Harry's eyes flitted between the two professors suspiciously. "No questions asked?"

"Obviously, one would hope you'd trust us enough to include us in your reasoning, particularly in a life-or-death situation." She paused. "But if you choose to trust us to keep them safe, we will trust you to use them wisely. We'll reassess at the start of your second year, by which time you will have at least experienced enough of life to be considered of age mentally, if not physically. Severus?"

Professor Snape grimaced, but after a moment he nodded.

Harry thought this over, then he nodded as well. "Fine. I'll trust the two of you."

He was looking at Professor Snape when he said it, and he was strangely aware he wasn't talking only about his Invisibility Cloak.

The second decision wasn't reached as quickly, but it was eventually agreed that Sirius would return to the Balkans.

"We can't just let Voldemort roam free," Sirius said. "He's useless in his current state, but it would be stupid to leave him unmonitored."

"One might say it was stupid to leave him for as long as you did," Professor Snape commented and, before Sirius could bark a reply, he held his hands aloft and idly said, "Your godson, yes, I know. I'm not blaming you, Black, just pointing out the reality of the situation. Have you thought how you plan to rediscover the Dark Lord upon your return?"

"The animals," Sirius said swiftly. "He can't have gone far, and any distance he has traveled will have been by possessing small animals. The creatures of the forests know about him- they communicate with one another to warn against certain areas that mean death."

"And what do you plan to do when you find him?"

Sirius shrugged. "Same as I have been, I suppose. Keep an eye on him. I might not be much more than an inconvenience, but he can't hurt me, and it's important we know where he is at all times."

"On your own, though?" Harry asked. "What if something happens to you?"

"I've managed for the past couple of years," Sirius told him. "I can manage a bit longer."

"But... won't you be lonely?" The impossible question remained unspoken, but Sirius understood.

"I'd love to have you join me," he said quietly. He glanced at Professors McGonagall and Snape before turning back to Harry. "But the Trace would out you in a moment to the Ministry. Even if it somehow didn't, could you imagine the manhunt if the Boy-Who-Lived vanished from Hogwarts? We'd never make it out of the country."

"Besides," said Professor McGonagall. "We'll need your help here, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked at her, not quite believing her, as Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

"Don't be obtuse, Potter. Your godfather may not be able to do much more than prevent You-Know-Who from gathering strength, but you can't imagine we plan to remain in that status quo indefinitely." He gestured at Professor McGonagall. "We'll devote ourselves to discovering the true nature of the Dark Lord's current form, and how it can be eradicated once and for all."

"I won't be of any use there. I don't know anything more about it than you, Professor."

"Of course you do," Professor McGonagall said. "You've seen him return. You've seen his new body. We are going to need your memories, Potter, and your stories." She paused. "And while I fully acknowledge you are older than you look, and that you've experienced far more than someone many times your age, you are an underaged wizard in every sense of the phrase. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have a responsibility toward you. I will work with you, Mr. Potter, and I will never keep you in the dark, but it would be a dereliction of duty to send you on this journey now, at this stage of your life, even if you would be under the care of a very capable wizard."

Harry turned to look at Sirius, who hesitated, then slowly nodded. "I hate to say it, but I think she's right."

He'd known it would turn out this way, but he felt his shoulder sag all the same. "What happened to you not trusting Professor McGonagall or Snape?"

"Yeah, well, I hadn't met them yet. Not properly, at least." Sirius inhaled deeply, then exhaled. To the other two adults, he said, "You'll look after him, then?"

"Yes, Black," Professor Snape said, as Professor McGonagall nodded. "You have our word."

"I'll write to you," Harry promised. "The same way we did before."

"I have something better for you." Sirus reached into one of the pockets of his tattered robes and emerged with a small package wrapped in what appeared to be filthy cloth. "You never used it the last time around, but maybe you will this time."

"What is it?"

"Your Christmas present. It's a pair of mirrors- your dad and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions. I slipped into my old house before coming here. If you need me, just say my name into it. We can use it to talk."

Harry unwrapped the package and stared at the mirrors, horror slowly rising in the pit of his stomach. "I didn't open it because I thought it might be something that would put you in danger. I didn't want to know what it was- didn't want to tempt myself. But if I'd opened it..."

He trailed off, realising that he'd have been able to talk to Sirius and would have never gone to the Department of Mysteries.

"It is what it is," Sirius said in a low voice. "Don't blame yourself. We're here now, aren't we?"

Ron isn't, Harry thought. Our entire world isn't. But he managed to nod, taking one of the mirrors and sliding it into his own pocket. To the two professors, he said, "I want to keep this on me. You can safeguard my other things, but this is mine."

He expected them to argue, but they just nodded. Professor McGonagall said, "I only ask you not hide anything, and promise the same to you. If I've learned anything from the ordeal of these past few months, it's that between the four of us... I want no more secrets."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. No more secrets."

Sirius left that night. They'd tried to persuade him to stay one more night, but he refused, determined to get back to Voldemort as soon as possible. Professor McGonagall found a broomstick for him, not one of the terrible school brooms with which Harry was forced to wrestle whenever he wanted to fly, but an only slightly out-of-date Cleansweep that turned out to belong to Professor McGonagall herself.

"I've barely used it," she said as she handed it over. "But I expect it returned in one piece."

"It will be," Sirius reassured her. "I'll take good care of it."

Something occurred to Harry then, something he was surprised hadn't come to him before now. "Professor. I don't want you or Professor Snape guarding my Invisibility Cloak." Before anyone could protest, he continued, "I want Sirius to take it with him."

"Harry." Sirius's eyes widened. "That's yours. I couldn't dream of taking it."

"I don't need to sneak around anymore, not how I used to. Besides, you're facing Voldemort! You'll need it more than me." Harry crossed his arms. "My dad would have wanted you to have it. I want you to have it."

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it before stepping forward and embracing Harry tightly. They stayed that way for a long moment, one Harry wished would never end.

When they finally broke apart, Sirius said, "I'm only borrowing it, then. I'll bring it back."

"I know you will. Just... you know, be careful in the meantime. Don't let Voldemort get hold of it."

"I won't," Sirius reassured him. "And I'll be careful when I talk to you through the mirror. Voldemort knows I'm an enemy, but I don't think he realises I'm on your side. He probably thinks I'm trying to knock him off so I can be the next Dark Lord without any competition. Luckily for me, he's too weak to attempt Legilimency in his current form."

The moments before Sirius left seemed to span several lifetimes, while also slipping by in the blink of an eye. Harry watched as his godfather and Professor Snape conversed quietly, their voices too low to be heard. The Invisibility Cloak ran the risk of flying off if used on a broomstick, so Sirius Disillusioned both himself and Professor McGonagall's broom. An enormous bag filled with all the food and supplies they'd scrounged up hung from his shoulder.

"We'll talk as soon as possible," Sirius said. "Make sure no one overhears you."

"There's a spell," Professor Snape spoke up. "One I'll teach him, to prevent that." He glared at Harry. "You'll use it responsibly."

Harry just nodded, instead focusing on Sirius. He was hardly visible through the Disillusionment Charm, but Harry could see he was smiling sadly at him. "Be careful, Sirius."

"I will. You do the same."

They embraced again, and then Sirius was mounting his broom, pushing off from the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower, and the three remaining people watched as his faint outline disappeared into the dark evening sky.

"Hey." Harry flopped heavily next to Nott, who was lounging on a couch near the fire, or as near to the fire as he could get. The oldest years tended to hog all the best spots.

"Hey. Where've you been?"

"Just... wandering around the castle. Wanted to be on my own." He paused. "Sorry about this morning."

"It's fine."

"It wasn't anything personal."

"I didn't think it was." Nott shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Just figured... you know. That time of year."

"What?"

Nott shrugged again, looking uncomfortable, and Harry suddenly realised.

Halloween.

He'd never focused much on the anniversary of his parents' deaths, partially because his Halloweens frequently involved fairly intense distractions including trolls, petrified cats, break-ins by supposed murderers, his name coming out of the Goblet of Fire...

Images of different versions of his parents flitted through his mind. Two Gryffindors who didn't get along but eventually fell in love. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin somehow coming together. Two different betrayals, two different nights in which they died.

Harry had been quiet for longer than he'd intended, and he finally said, "I owe you a game of Gobstones, don't I, Nott?"

"I'm game if you are." He stood up and started toward their dorm to retrieve the set. "And if you'd like, I don't care if you call me Theo."

"Oh." Harry paused. "Okay. You can call me Harry."

Theo made his exit, and Harry braced the side of his face with a hand, his elbow against the arm of the couch. The common room seemed to be swimming before him; he'd rather be in bed, but somehow the idea of something as simple as Gobstones seemed relaxing. He'd probably change his mind the moment the foul-smelling liquid was shot into his face, but that was yet to come.

He wondered where Sirius was, and how long it would take before he was back in the forest where Voldemort was hiding. He wondered how long it would be until he faced him down again. Voldemort was weak, but, deep down, Harry wondered whether he'd return again, despite their head start.

Don't be stupid, he thought. You have every advantage this time around. It's not like before.

All the same, he knew he'd face him in some form eventually. If he'd known then what he would later, that that day would come before he began his second year, he might have been startled, yet somehow unsurprised. Voldemort had a way of turning up when one least expected him.

But he didn't know that now. All he knew was that they had a plan, and that he was about to play a game of Gobstones.