Harry awoke in a daze, vaguely aware of the sound of beeping monitors and humming instruments all around him. He blinked to adjust to the light, groping around for his glasses until he located them atop a bedside table. He expected to see the Hospital Wing come into focus when he put them on; instead he found himself in an unfamiliar room, bathed in sterile white light and filled with odd devices he did not recognize.

The door opened, and a woman dressed in white Healer's robes bustled into the room, pausing when she saw his eyes open. "Oh, Mr. Potter, you're awake," she remarked. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Harry croaked. "Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's," said the Healer. "Let me check your vitals, and I'll go ahead and notify your family." The Healer performed a series of diagnostic charms over Harry's body, humming thoughtfully on occasion and jotting down notes in her clipboard. She paused briefly at his chest, frowning at a flashing red rune that appeared from her wand, but eventually moved on. Once she was satisfied, she left the room, leaving the door ajar.

Harry slowly wriggled his arms and legs to make sure he was still intact. His entire body ached; he vaguely remembered the explosion, followed by a long stretch of blackness. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but considering they'd transferred him here, it must have been a serious blow. Hope that bastard Pettigrew got caught, Harry thought grimly.

"Well, well...look what the Kneazle dragged in."

Harry looked up to see Saul Croaker standing in his doorway, smirking down at him.

"Hello, Saul," Harry muttered glumly.

"Heard you had a little run-in with a certain prisoner on the loose," said Saul. "Caught with your trousers down, did you, Potter?"

"I gave him a good fight," Harry said defensively. "He just caught me off-guard, that's all."

"That's not what I hear," said Saul. "Word is that Pettigrew took a chunk out of Hogwarts Castle on his way out. The blast could be heard from Hogsmeade. How on earth were you not vaporized?"

"Erected a Shield Charm just in time," said Harry. "Guess it must have absorbed most of the blow."

"Must have been one hell of a Shield Charm," muttered another Healer, who tottered into the room to attend to the instruments at Harry's bedside. "Judging by the burns to your face and arms, you should have been killed."

Harry gingerly raised a hand to feel his face; the skin felt unnaturally smooth and rubbery. "I'm not going to be disfigured, am I?" he asked tentatively.

"Not by a long shot," the Healer chuckled. "Skin is much trickier to regrow than bones, and more time-consuming, but you'll be right as rain by next week."

"Next week?" Harry groaned. "But I have a Quidditch match on Saturday!"

"It is Saturday, kid," Saul chuckled. "You've been out for nearly a week. You didn't notice all the well-wishes?"

Harry glanced to his left to follow Saul's gesture, seeing bunches of flowers and cards sitting atop the bedside table. He groaned...he'd been looking forward to their match against Gryffindor, which was likely being played at that very moment. Here's hoping Cho can handle Ginny, he thought. Now he could only hope Roger would give him his spot back when he returned…

The Healer finished her work and bustled out of the room to attend to her next patient. Saul drew his wand and cast a Muffling Charm on the door, stepping fully into the room to sit beside Harry.

"How's your research going?" Saul asked him.

"My what?" Harry asked.

"On Pettigrew," said Saul. "Remember? Looking into his past, like we discussed over the summer?"

"Oh," said Harry. "I, erm...I've been busy."

"Right," Saul nodded. "Understandable. It's not as if a Dark Lord is rising to power and his servant is breaking into Hogwarts to potentially help resurrect him."

"I didn't say it wasn't important!" Harry snapped. "I'll work on it, alright? I just haven't had the time."

Saul gave Harry a scathing look. "You are aware that I was the person who signed off on your usage of the Time-Turner this year, correct?" he said. "Do you really think I did so for the sole purpose of you attending all your classes?"

Harry hadn't considered this before. "You wanted me to use it to study Pettigrew?" he surmised.

"We can't afford to waste a single day, my boy!" Saul scoffed. "Anything we can learn to counteract the Dark Lord's return is a precious commodity, and I would hope you'd make that a higher priority than passing your third-year exams."

Harry bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue, knowing that Saul was absolutely correct. "I will," he sighed. "Have you found anything about Riddle?"

"I'm making some progress," said Saul. "I may have a lead on the orphanage he grew up in, here in London. With any luck, some of his fellow orphans will still be alive and willing to speak about him. And if they're not...well, I have ways of coercing them."

"Coercing them?" Harry asked, frowning suspiciously.

"Not torture, if that's what you're thinking," Saul scoffed. "No, I'll offer them some Muggle cash for information, and failing that, a bit of Veritaserum ought to get us the answers we seek."

"And you think learning about his childhood will help us prevent his rise?" asked Harry.

Saul gave him another scathing look. "Have we not been over this?" he groaned. "Determining the past is the first crucial step towards divining the future. And you still need to figure out where this timeline diverged from your own and caused such drastic ripple effects. One such ripple landed you in this hospital room, did it not?"

Harry sighed; once again Saul was completely right. He still had no clue what Peter's motives were, though he now knew for certain that he was after something (or someone) in the castle. Was it him Peter wanted? Or was it simple coincidence that they crossed paths that fateful evening? He needed to dig deeper to figure out what the man might be after.

Rapid footsteps could be heard coming in their direction, and Saul dropped his Muffling Charm as Lily Potter skidded around the corner and entered the room. "Harry, oh, my dear!" she cried, wrapping her arms around her son. "How are you feeling? We were so worried about you!"

"I feel alright," said Harry, though the closeness of his mother's touch made him realize just how foreign the skin on his face and hands felt. "Just tired, that's all."

"You look miles better than you did when they brought you in," said Lily. "Severus said you very likely would have had permanent scarring if he hadn't found you in time."

"Snape found me?" asked Harry.

"Yes, he heard the explosion and found you soon after," Lily explained. "He managed to put your body under stasis until you could be transported here. Such a brilliant man."

Harry nodded, though privately he knew Snape was likely able to save him thanks to his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts and how to counteract their effects. But Snape had saved his life (and appearance), so he wouldn't begrudge the man just this moment.

"Oh, Mr. Croaker, I didn't see you there!" said Lily, standing to extend a hand to Saul. "What brings you to St. Mungo's?"

"Just paying my well-wishes to your son, Mrs. Potter," said Saul politely. "He's a good kid, and I hate to see anything bad happen to him."

"You're too kind," said Lily. "Harry says your tutelage has been most helpful for his progress. I can't thank you enough."

"The pleasure is mine," Saul smiled. "You've got quite the impressive young man here, and I've learned much myself from watching him grow."

Saul winked at Harry, who smiled in spite of himself. Saul may be prickly and standoffish, but he could put on airs otherwise, and seemed willing to keep Harry's secrets for him, from both Dumbledore and Harry's parents.

"I'd best get back to my department," said Saul, moving to exit the room. "Keep up with those exercises, eh, Harry? I promise you'll see the benefits soon enough."

"I will, sir," Harry nodded. And Saul left the room, leaving him alone with his mother.

"Your father is on the way," Lily informed him. "Dahlia insisted on attending the Quidditch match to watch Ginny play, and he would only let her go if he chaperoned her."

"Still being over-protective, is he?" Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes. "As if anything bad could happen to her at a packed Quidditch match."

Lily did not see the humor in his statement. "You were attacked within the confines of the school, which we all assumed was perfectly safe," she retorted. "Your father and I take you and your sister's safety very seriously, and we will not leave a single opportunity for Peter to harm either of you."

Harry was sobered by her passionate response. "I know, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I take it they didn't catch him, then?"

"Severus spotted him on the way to you," Lily said grimly. "He fled when they saw each other. Severus pursued him, but he transformed into a rat and got away."

"Coward," Harry thought bitterly.

"Apparently Calvin nearly caught him," Lily said with a wry smile. "He pounced as soon as Peter transformed."

Harry felt a swell of appreciation for the Kneazle that he'd never felt before. He'd always assumed the great cat hated him, but clearly he hated Pettigrew more.

The door suddenly burst open again, and James and Dahlia rushed into the room. The latter was still sporting the red and gold attire of her House, clearly fresh off of the Quidditch match.

"Thank Merlin," James exhaled, and knelt to give Harry a hug. "You gave us all a terrible fright there, son."

"Glad you're alive, idiot," said Dahlia, also giving her brother a hug.

"What happened, Harry?" asked James. "We all heard a tremendous explosion, then Snape found you in bad shape."

"Pettigrew," Harry grumbled. "I ran into him, and we dueled."

"You dueled him?" James said, shocked. "How did the explosion happen?"

"He cast some spell I didn't recognize," Harry said. "Terranus crepitus. I Shielded myself, but it knocked me backwards anyway."

"He cast the Excavation Curse indoors?!" James gasped. "I'm surprised he would try something so stupid. It was invented to clear away land from a safe distance – the Death Eaters used it to bomb villages during the first war."

"Probably where he learned it," Harry muttered bitterly. "He seemed to know a lot of dangerous spells only Voldemort could have taught him."

All three of his family members cringed at the use of the name. "Must you say that wicked man's name, darling?" Lily sighed.

"Why shouldn't I?" Harry said defiantly. "It's only a name. Maybe we should be calling him Tom, since that's his real name."

"It's just a bit...much for some people," James sighed, eyes flitting over to Dahlia. Harry saw the look of fear in his sister's eye at the mention of the Dark Lord, and decided not to belabor the issue.

"We need to have the conversation again, James," said Lily firmly.

"Now's not the time—" James began, exasperated.

"When is the time, then?" Lily demanded. "When my children are killed? We can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?" asked Harry.

"Your mother wants to send you to Ilvermorny," James sighed. "You've had far too many incidents at Hogwarts, and she thinks—"

"What will that solve?" Harry demanded. "If Uncle Peter is after me, he'll just follow me there, and Dad won't be there to help me, or Dumbledore, or Snape."

"Ilvermorny is a fine school, and their Headmistress is well-versed in fighting the Dark Arts—" Lily began cautiously.

"And what if he goes after Dahlia next time, or Damian?" Harry went on. "I can defend myself, but they can't. I won't separate myself from my family if any of us are in danger."

"I think Harry is right," James said gently. "This was a horrible incident, but we're better off sticking together than spreading apart. I can teach Harry and Dahlia some things to better protect themselves—"

"They shouldn't be in such a position in the first place!" Lily wailed. "They're just children!"

"Why do you insist on making me fight with one hand tied behind my back?" Harry snapped. "I find myself in these situations whether I want to or not. So why can't I learn how to fight back?"

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a small whimper of fear; Dahlia was clutching her mother tightly around the waist, clearly distressed by the turn in the conversation. James gave his wife and son a stern look to drop the subject, and they reluctantly obliged.

"Who won the match?" Harry asked, still thinking about the Quidditch game he'd missed.

"What?" James asked, perplexed by his question. "Oh, that. Gryffindor by twenty."

"It was brilliant!" Dahlia said excitedly, clearly glad for the change of topic. "Our Chasers flattened yours, Fred and George knocked Page off his broom, and Wood only let in two goals. We won even though your girlfriend caught two of the Snitches."

"Girlfriend, eh?" James remarked, grinning at his son. "The Chang girl? She's a fair flyer, and not a bad looker either."

"That girl is your student, James!" Lily groaned, slapping her husband on the shoulder.

"What? And she could be my future daughter-in-law one day," James shrugged. "I'm only saying, Harry would be doing well with her."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Harry groaned, giving his smirking sister a nasty look. "We're just teammates."

"Suit yourself," James shrugged. "I was already chasing after your mother by your age, but we all move at different speeds, I suppose."

"And I rejected you for the next four years straight," Lily reminded him with a wry smile. "Perhaps this Miss Chang ought to steer clear of the Potter men as well...they can be rather persistent."

"Cho's way above Harry's station anyway," Dahlia said nonchalantly. "She deserves better."

"Gee, thanks sis," Harry deadpanned, aiming a playful kick at her when his parents weren't looking (which she dodged effortlessly with a giggle). In truth, he had taken notice of Cho's good looks – it was around the same time in his last timeline that he developed his first crush on her. He still had reservations about her after their disastrous dating attempt in his original fifth year, but perhaps without the specter of Cedric's death hanging between them, a better outcome would be possible. He had a brief mental image of passionately kissing Cho under mistletoe and had to force his thoughts to drift elsewhere.

The Healers would not clear Harry for release, saying that his skin needed more time to "settle" after its rapid regrowth. Lily stayed with him as he recovered while James and Dahlia returned to Hogwarts. By the following Monday Harry was itching to leave, but they would only allow him to get out of bed for light exercise and to ensure his body was adjusting properly. Finally, on Wednesday, they gave him the all-clear, and he and Lily stepped through the Floo into the Headmaster's Office.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore when they arrived, seated behind his desk. "Glad to hear you are alright after such a terrible encounter."

"Thank you, sir," Harry nodded. "I take it security will be stronger from now on to prevent this from happening again?"

"Harry, don't be rude!" Lily hissed in his ear, but Dumbledore merely chuckled at his question.

"No, Mrs. Potter, Harry is quite right," he said. "I am embarrassed to have let such an event happen under my watch. I have identified the weakness in our wards and ensured that Mr. Pettigrew will not be able to sneak in undetected like that ever again."

"That's wonderful news," Lily sighed, sounding relieved.

"I spoke with Headmistress Roberts at Ilvermorny just yesterday," Dumbledore went on. "She is willing to take either of your children if the necessity arrives."

"Oh, no, that will no longer be necessary—" Lily said quickly.

"I'm not leaving Hogwarts!" Harry protested.

"I know, sweetheart," Lily huffed. "Just exploring all of our options. Your father and I decided you can stay for now, but it's just nice to know you have the choice—"

"There is no choice," Harry said stubbornly. "Hogwarts is my home. I'll never leave it."

Lily started to say something several times but stopped short. Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who was staring politely down at his desk, but seemed to be smiling to himself at Harry's sentiment.

"In any case, you are always welcome here, Harry," said Dumbledore diplomatically. "I will do all that I can to accommodate you and your family."

"Thank you, Professor," said Lily.

"You're most welcome," Dumbledore nodded. "I should also return this to you, Harry." And he held out the Time-Turner on its golden chain, glimmering softly in the evening light. Harry took it, examining it; there was a small crack in the top of the hourglass, but it otherwise appeared undamaged.

"How did it survive the blast?" Harry wondered aloud.

"It suffered extensive damage, but Professor Snape managed to repair it when he found it on your person," Dumbledore explained. "Be advised that it lost a bit of sand during the blast, so it may only be capable of traveling back three hours rather than four."

"Understood," Harry said, putting the chain around his neck and stowing the Time-Turner away down his shirt. The more limited time constraint would make his workload even more challenging, but at least it hadn't been destroyed completely...or worse, stolen by Pettigrew.

"I believe students should be gathering for dinner right about now," said Dumbledore, glancing at a clock on the wall. "If you hurry, you can join them."

"Alright," said Harry. He hugged his mother goodbye; she held onto him longer than usual, squeezing him tight. Then she finally released him, and he hurried from the office towards the Great Hall.

Harry could hear faint whispering all around him as he traversed the empty halls of the castle. He turned to look, and saw the paintings shy away from his gaze, clearly gossiping about him. That can't be a good sign, he thought. He arrived at the Great Hall and entered, which immediately fell to a hush at his arrival. Every student in the room stared at him, turning to whisper to one another under their breath. Lovely...I'm back to being the center of gossip around here.

Harry located his year mates seated in the center of the Ravenclaw table, taking an empty seat beside Terry Boot. "Blimey, Potter, you're alive!" Terry breathed in awe.

"Surprised?" asked Harry nonchalantly, reaching for a plate to begin his dinner.

"We all heard the explosion, all over the grounds," explained Sue Li. "I was at the greenhouses with Hannah Abbott, and we saw a giant hole blasted out of the Astronomy Tower! We thought for sure someone would be killed."

"Did you really fight Pettigrew?" asked Anthony Goldstein. "No one knows what happened, but we all heard he came after you."

"I dunno what he was after," Harry said honestly. "I just kinda ran into him by accident. And we only dueled for a few seconds before he cast that spell that caused the explosion."

Harry was pelted by more and more questions from his classmates, but he eventually asked for some peace and quiet while he ate. He could still hear the whispers of his peers all around him, as the entire student body had obviously heard some version of what happened. Why can I never just have a peaceful year at Hogwarts? Harry lamented.

Students eventually began trickling out of the Hall towards their common rooms. Harry spotted Cho Chang with a group of her friends milling about near the entrance, and decided to greet her.

"Hello, Cho," Harry greeted her. Cho turned to face him, and there was no mistaking the brief look of disdain in her expression before she forced a smile.

"Harry!" she said sweetly. "So glad you're alright. We missed you terribly in the last match."

"Thanks," Harry grinned. "I heard you did well against Weasley. Two Snitches to one?"

"Yeah," Cho said, crinkling her nose a bit at the reminder. "She got lucky with the one, honestly. Damn near flew up her sleeve even though I beat her to the chase."

"Ah," Harry said. "Well, I look forward to catching up with the rest of the team at the next practice."

Again, the brief look of annoyance in Cho's expression before she recovered betrayed her true feeling about this prospect. "Can't wait," she said, then briskly turned to walk away.

Harry sighed internally at this reception – clearly she wasn't happy about potentially losing her Seeker spot again to him. He couldn't entirely blame her, either: she had beaten Ginny in the last match and wasn't the cause of the team's loss.

But this didn't seem to affect Roger, who welcomed Harry back with open arms at the next practice. "Potter! Glad to see you back in one piece," he said, embracing Harry in a brief hug. "We missed you against Gryffindor, mate...it came down to the wire!"

"So I heard," Harry nodded, noticing Cho's thinly-veiled look of annoyance behind Roger.

"We've got Hufflepuff next," Roger told the team. "Diggory was dominant against Malfoy in their last match, but their Chasers are a weak point. We can exploit that if we can take one or two of the Snitches, so let's work hard to prepare!"

"The match isn't until February!" whined one of the Beaters. "We've got midterms coming up…"

"We can't waste a single day if we want to stay sharp!" Roger retorted. "We can still win the Cup if we beat Hufflepuff and Slytherin, so let's work hard, alright?"

Harry knew this meant several more months of intense training through the winter, which would cut into his free time. But he still had the Time-Turner, which meant he could afford to fill up his schedule and continue to use the Room of Requirement to his benefit. He just had to be more vigilant with the Marauder's Map to ensure Pettigrew wasn't lurking nearby before coming and going on his own.

Predictably, Harry was assigned a mountain of catch-up assignments for each of his classes after missing a week and a half of lessons. Worse yet, he only had five weeks before midterm exams, increasing the amount of stress and studying on his plate. He knew he would need to sneak off and use the Time-Turner in order to get everything done, but with the recent attack, it seemed every professor was watching him like a hawk in the halls, making it difficult to sneak off on his own.

Harry waited until Saturday evening to make his move. He joined his classmates for dinner, then excused himself to the bathroom. But he instead high-tailed it for the seventh floor corridor, intending to spend as many hours as possible inside the Room of Requirement completing homework—

"Oi, Harry! Where d'you think you're going?"

Harry wheeled around; his father was marching down the corridor towards him. Busted.

"Erm...bathroom," Harry lied.

"Rubbish; I saw you sneak away from your friends," James said sternly. "Don't lie to me."

Harry deflated. "I just...wanted to see the damage Pettigrew caused," he invented.

"We've sealed off that part of the castle for now," said James. "The stone had been rebuilt, but Dumbledore wants to make sure there's no lingering magical damage to the tower before reopening it."

"I see," Harry sighed. That would certainly make it more difficult to access the Room of Requirement. If he wasn't able to reach it without alerting the staff, his mounting load might prove too unbearable after all.

"Why don't you come with me?" James suggested. "I'm conducting a sweep of the grounds. I can show you some of the new protections we've added."

"Alright," Harry shrugged. He wasn't exactly looking forward to an evening of studying, and that seemed like a fine alternative.

"We're still trying to determine how he got through the school wards without alerting anyone," James explained. "It's possible he got around them by transforming, so we've added additional animal-tracking charms and other measures. Dumbledore has also purchased thirty Kneazles to roam the grounds, so he'll be in for a nasty surprise if he approaches in rat form again."

"Nice," Harry smirked, imaging Peter's alarm when cornered by a hissing Calvin in his Animagus form.

They arrived at the third floor offshoot from Central Hall. James paused by the statue of the one-eyed witch, frowning and looking at his son.

"Perhaps I shouldn't be showing you where the secret passages are," he muttered.

"Oh, please...you think you're the only one that's explored this castle?" Harry grinned. He walked forward and drew his wand, tapping it against the statue. "Dissendium." The back of the statue gave way, revealing the entrance to the passage to Honeydukes. James raised his eyebrows at his son, then merely chuckled.

"I suppose I should reprimand you for knowing that was there," he remarked, "but I'm not one to talk. After you then, explorer."

Harry smirked and lowered himself into the passage. After a short slide into the wider tunnel, he found his way blocked by a mountain of earth and debris – it appeared the passage had been partially caved in.

"We sealed off all of these passages, figuring that would be Pettigrew's first choice of entry," James explained, joining his son in the cramped tunnel. "Here, let me check how the wards are holding up."

Harry moved aside as his father drew his wand and muttered an incantation under his breath. The cramped space flared briefly with light, pulsing down the tunnel in cool, golden waves. James frowned at whatever feedback he received.

"That's odd," he muttered. "I'm positive I cast a motion-detection ward and several tripwire enchantments here, but they don't seem to be active."

"Maybe the explosion affected them?" Harry suggested.

"No, they remained active at every other passage I checked," James muttered. "Look here!" And he pointed at the top of the rubble heap; a small hole could be seen, far too small for a human to crawl through but just enough for a rat.

"He must've come in through here," Harry surmised.

"I don't understand how he sensed and deactivated the wards, though," James muttered. "I hid them fairly well."

"Uncle Peter seems to be full of surprises," Harry said darkly. He remembered the surprising quickness and power Pettigrew had shown in their brief duel, thinking once again that they all must have underestimated the man.

"I'll have to inform Dumbledore," said James. "Give me a moment to reset the wards and secure this hole – I'm certain he won't try the same spot again." Harry climbed back out of the passage as his father got to work with his wand. A few minutes later, he crawled back out to rejoin his son, lightly covered in dust and panting from the effort.

"Let's head to my office," James sighed wearily. "I've got a case of Butterbeer stashed there."

They made their way to the Defense classroom, and moments later were seated on opposite sides of James' desk, sipping ice-cold Butterbeer in contented silence. Harry realized that now was a perfect time to ask about Pettigrew, remembering Saul Croaker's initiative to dig into the man's past.

"What was Uncle Peter like in school?" Harry asked innocently.

James gave him a dark look. "We don't need to get into all that…" he sighed.

"Surely he wasn't always like this!" Harry insisted. "You were friends with him, weren't you?"

James took a deep swig of his Butterbeer, and for a moment Harry feared he was going to change the subject. "Truthfully, we let him tag along because he was in our dorm," James sighed. "We figured he might get us in trouble if he caught us sneaking in late at night, so we invited him."

"What was his personality like?" Harry asked. "Who did he get along with best?"

"Why do you care?" James groaned. "He's a monster; what does it matter what he was like as a kid?"

"Voldemort was a kid once, too," Harry reasoned. "Maybe if someone noticed the path he was on back then, things would've turned out different."

James pondered this for a moment, then chuckled. "Yeah, maybe," he scoffed. "I never thought he'd cross over, to be honest. He was terrified of the Slytherins – besides Snape, of course."

"Snape?" asked Harry, surprised. "He and Snape were friends?"

"Not friends, exactly," said James. "He and your mother were tight until fifth year, and Peter took a shine to them. They were all outsiders in their own unique ways. Occasionally I saw him and Snape talking in the halls, but Pete always scurried away when his Death Eater buddies showed up."

"D'you think Snape recruited him?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Dunno," James shrugged. "Course, Snape later turned spy for our side, or so Dumbledore says."

"Do you believe he's on our side?" Harry asked.

"What does it matter? War's over," James shrugged. "Personally, I think he was playing both sides and just saving his own hide, but your mother disagrees. Not worth arguing about it anymore."

Harry wanted to dispute this, to say that Snape's loyalty would be of the utmost importance in the coming war, but held his tongue. From James' body language it was clear that this was a common point of contention between him and Lily. "Peter liked Alice Longbottom, didn't he?" Harry asked instead.

"Oh, sure," James laughed, relaxing slightly at the amusing thought. "Just a schoolboy crush, I reckon. She graduated in our fifth year and he never spoke about her again. Never saw him date anyone else, though, before or after graduation."

"Did they ever see each other again, after school?" Harry asked. "At Order meetings, or elsewhere?"

"Why are you so keen on bringing these things up?" James asked. "Those were unpleasant times, and I wasn't entirely focused on what Peter was up to during the war—"

"I'm just trying to understand him better, that's all," Harry shrugged. "I can't understand why he turned to the Death Eaters. Surely there must have been some sign, some indication—"

"Must you continue rubbing salt in the wounds, Harry?" James suddenly snapped, shooting his son an icy glare. "Can we please just drop it?"

"O-okay, sorry," said a startled Harry. James remained on-edge after this, and though he didn't apologize, he offered Harry another Butterbeer before sending him on his way. Clearly James wasn't the right person to ask about Peter's past – Harry wondered if his father still blamed himself partially for his friend's betrayal. He wondered how he might feel if somebody like Ron had turned to the Death Eaters after school, and how responsible he might feel for it…

Something about the connection to Snape intrigued Harry, though, and seemed worth exploring. He contemplated whether to approach Snape about this, but worried he'd get a similar reaction for dredging up old memories from the war. He wasn't on as bad terms with Snape as in the last timeline, but there was still an icy distance between them that made Harry wary of the man. The specter of James' past bullying clearly still loomed large.

Harry was too preoccupied with Quidditch and schoolwork in the coming weeks to consider his next move anyway. He was slowly catching up with all the work he'd been assigned while away, but more kept coming in every lesson, and he had yet to begin studying for the midterms. He tried once more to sneak off to the Room of Requirement one evening, only to find the entire wing of the tower sealed off with no possibility of getting through. He would have to carefully plan out any Time-Turner usage to catch up on sleep or homework, but he dared not risk it while teachers continued watching him like a hawk.

One reprieve came in the form of the first Hogsmeade visit of the term, on a relatively-warm Saturday in late November. Harry knew he ought to spend the day working, but he was burned out from the grind of classwork and felt the need to reward himself with one day of relaxation.

Harry joined the queue of students waiting to be cleared for the visit by Filch, who stood by the great oak door checking names off of a clipboard. He looked as surly and sour as he had in the previous timeline; clearly one year on the job at Hogwarts was enough to develop a general disdain for the student population.

"Harry Potter," Harry announced when he reached the front of the line. Filch flipped a few pages and scanned his list, frowning.

"No Potter on my list," he said. "No visit for you today."

"What? But I turned in my permission slip!" Harry protested.

"Take it up with your Head of House," Filch muttered uncaringly. "NEXT!"

Frustrated, Harry turned to seek out Flitwick; instead he saw his father walking into the Great Hall and confronted him. "Why am I not cleared for Hogsmeade?" he demanded. "Didn't you and Mum sign the form?"

"We pulled our consent after what happened on Halloween," James sighed. "I don't think it's wise for you to stray from the castle right now."

"But I was attacked inside the castle!" Harry retorted. "D'you really think he would attack me in public in broad daylight?"

"I'm not putting anything past him at this point after what he pulled," James said firmly. "He's clearly not in a right state of mind. We can keep a closer eye on you here."

"Such bullshit," Harry grumbled.

"Language!" James reprimanded him, but Harry was already stalking away. Why could he never have anything fun happen to him?

"Hey, Harry!" said Hermione, waving to him from across the hall, Ron and Neville behind her. "Want to join us on the carriage ride?"

"Can't," Harry said glumly. "I don't have permission to go to the village."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "Well...see you when we get back, then!" And the trio awkwardly walked through the front doors, a surly Filch ushering them along.

Harry instead stalked into the Great Hall, which was filled mostly with first- and second-years who could not yet visit the village. He did not see Luna anywhere at the Ravenclaw table, but he did spy Dahlia, Ginny, and Astoria seated at the Gryffindor table, and sauntered over towards them.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"I suppose," Dahlia sighed listlessly. She was watching Ginny and Astoria play wizard's chess; the former appeared to be winning handily. Clearly Daphne's skill in the game had not transferred down to her younger sister.

"Not going to Hogsmeade, Harry?" asked Ginny, as she took one of Astoria's undefended pawns. "It's all my brothers have been talking about all week."

"Not allowed," Harry said glumly. "My parents apparently believe Peter Pettigrew is going to walk down the middle of Main Street and murder me in broad daylight."

Dahlia and Ginny exchanged grim looks at this, but Astoria giggled at the morbid joke. "Everyone swears you're some prodigy duelist around here," Astoria remarked. "I beg to differ – you're the only person I know who's wound up in St. Mungo's from a duel."

Once again, Dahlia and Ginny did not find this amusing, but Harry laughed heartily at the return jab. Astoria clearly had also not inherited her sister's icy demeanor or lack of funny bone.

"Your queen is undefended," Dahlia remarked as Astoria moved her knight; a moment later, Ginny triumphantly captured the queen with her bishop.

"Damn!" Astoria huffed, flicking her king over in resignation. "I'm rubbish at this game, Weasley. Can't we do something that takes less brain power, like Exploding Snap?"

"Percy will have a conniption fit if we light the common room on fire again," Ginny sighed. "Though, come to think of it, he's in Hogsmeade...maybe we should do something more explosive!"

"Ugh, here comes trouble," muttered Dahlia under her breath. Harry turned to see Damian Dursley saunter into the Great Hall. He paused at the foot of the Hufflepuff table, crinkling his nose in clear disappointment, then turned and walked back out of the Hall.

"Give me a second," said Harry, and he stood to follow the boy. He caught up with him halfway to the stairwell, shouting for his attention until Damian turned to face him.

"Oh, it's you again," Damian huffed. "What d'you want?"

"Come with me," said Harry. "I have something to show you that I think you'll enjoy." And he turned towards a different stairwell, marching purposefully ahead without looking back. He knew Damian wouldn't follow if he demanded it, but if he dangled something enticing in front of him, he might just come along anyway. And sure enough, he heard shuffling footsteps behind him as he made his way up to the third floor.

"Where are you taking me?" Damian whined. "Are you gonna make me do homework or summat?"

"This is a fun field trip, trust me," Harry called back over his shoulder. He continued marching ahead until he arrived at a tapestry in the third floor corridor, across which danced a flutter of fairies through a painted grove.

"Cool picture," Damian deadpanned, clearly unimpressed as he stopped in front of the tapestry beside Harry.

Harry ignored him, pulling back the tapestry to reveal a hidden passage behind it. "After you," he said, beckoning Damian inside.

Damian inched forward, peering into the hole in the wall at the stone spiral slide within. "Hell no," he spat. "You prolly want to send me to get stuck in the dungeons, don't ya?"

"Suit yourself," Harry shrugged. He grabbed the top lip of the entryway and jumped, launching himself feet first down the slide. He whooped with excitement as he descended three stories, eventually skidding through another tapestry and coming to a halt on the floor. He stood and waited, and sure enough, he could soon hear Damian follow, making no audible noise but sliding smoothly to a stop beside him.

"That it?" Damian said coolly, though his face betrayed a twinkle of amusement.

"Not quite," said Harry. "You hungry?"

"No," Damian denied flatly. But Harry knew this wasn't the case; he'd recognized that look of annoyance in the Great Hall, the same one he'd one felt in his first year when he realized meals weren't served at all hours of the day.

"C'mon, it's not far from here," said Harry, turning to walk down a side passageway. In truth, his destination wasn't that far from the Great Hall – he'd just taken a slightly longer route to show Damian the hidden shortcut. Damian trotted alongside him, no longer as openly hostile as he was before.

"You aren't allowed in our common room, y'know," Damian drawled as they approached the entrance to Hufflepuff's lair. "No birdies allowed."

"I know that," Harry chuckled. He turned right instead of left at the fork, towards the painting of a bowl of fruit. He stopped in front of it, beckoning Damian closer. "Tickle the pear."

Damian glared at him. "Is that some kind of joke?" he demanded.

"Nope," said Harry. "Go on, tickle it."

Damian grumbled something under his breath, but he relented. He put his stubby finger to the painting and stroked the green fruit, which giggled heartily as the painting swung forward to reveal another hidden entrance. Harry beckoned Damian inside, paying extra close attention to the pre-teen's face as they entered.

The kitchens were bustling with activity at this hour, as the house-elves were hard at work preparing that evening's dinner. Damian gaped at the tiny creatures, clearly not having encountered them in his magical journey thus far. One of the house-elves noticed them standing there, and whistled to get the others' attention; they all eagerly gathered around the two boys, looking pleased by the unexpected visitors.

"Good afternoon, sirs!" one of the elves squeaked, practically hopping from one foot to the other with excitement. "May we offer you some snacks?"

"What d'you reckon, Damian?" asked Harry, turning to his cousin. "Fancy anything in particular?"

Damian crinkled his nose suspiciously. "D'you got any of those toasted pastry thingies?" he asked. "We had a bunch of 'em at the Halloween Feast."

"Does sir mean Pumpkin Pasties?" asked the house-elf. "We certainly do!" And two other elves hustled off towards a pantry, emerging seconds later with a plate full of piping-hot confections, which they thrust towards Damian. He slowly took one, as though expecting some kind of practical joke, and took a tentative nibble. After one bite confirmed it was indeed what the elves claimed, he grabbed two more and stuffed them both in his mouth, groaning with pleasure.

"Don't overdo it now," Harry chuckled, selecting one for himself. "Wouldn't want to fill up before dinner."

"I 'ad a light breakfast," Damian retorted through a mouthful of pastries. "Sue me."

"Anything for the older sir?" asked the first house-elf, looking up expectantly at Harry.

"Nothing for me, thank you," Harry said politely. "Just showing my cousin around the castle."

"Well, you and your cousin are most welcome any time!" the elf bowed. "Any time of day or night!"

"You're too kind," Harry bowed back. Damian looked thoughtful at the elf's last statement.

"Day or night?" he repeated. "What, d'you work in here round the clock?"

"Oh, not always, sir!" said the elf. "We sometimes has night cleaning shifts in the castle, but yous can always find us down here in our quarters!"

"You sleep down here, too?" asked Damian. "You don't have, like, families?"

The elves looked puzzled by this question. "House-elves do not has families, sir," said another elf. "We is not breeding elves. Once we is given a master, we is not to be having families."

"A master?" Damian repeated, looking even more confused now. "What are you, slaves or summat?"

The elves looked uncomfortable with this question. "We is happy to serve our masters," said one tentatively. "House-elves live to serve. We is not feeling like slaves."

"But you get paid, don'cha?" Damian asked. The reaction was immediate; the elves began wringing their hands together and wincing at this suggestion.

"It is a great dishonor for a house-elf to accept payment!" one wailed. "Headmaster Dumbledore is most kind to offer it, but we doesn't dare accept!"

Damian turned to Harry, a look of horror on his face. "What kinda madhouse is this?" he demanded. "You freaks keep slaves in the basement, where nobody can see them? And what's so bleedin' funny?!"

"Sorry," Harry said, wiping the smile off his face. Damian was reminding him very much of Hermione in his previous timeline, when she too learned the true nature of house-elves. He was picturing Damian and the rest of the Dursleys wearing S.P.E.W. badges, which had caused him to chuckle aloud. But he could see from the look on his cousin's face that he didn't find it funny at all.

"'M not hungry anymore," Damian muttered, throwing a handful of Pumpkin Pastries back on the tray and stomping out of the kitchen. Harry let him go, knowing his common room was right around the corner. He grabbed one more pastry for himself and thanked the elves before departing and returning to the Great Hall.

He hadn't given a lot of thought to the house-elves in this timeline, as he had yet to encounter Dobby or any of the other elves he'd met in his past life. He wondered what Kreacher might be up to these days, and Winky – probably still serving their own twisted masters. Harry felt a twinge of guilt at the thought, wondering if he ought to do something about it.

But the house-elves would have to wait. First, he had a pesky Dark Lord and his minions to take care of.