Harry sat down at dinner between Fred and Draco. He looked over at Draco thoughtfully. Since they'd come to a truce, they had both tried to ignore the past tension and get along. Maybe they'd both tried a little too hard, a little too quickly. But it was hard to maintain a friendship when it kept being dragged up how horrible Draco had been, only a few short months ago. Sometimes Harry still struggled to believe the Slytherin boy had actually changed, that he wasn't just pretending to get along in the room, so he'd get less heat for his poor actions. It was difficult to tell, but he wanted to believe the best.

"How about a game of chess after I'm done training with Mad-Eye?" Harry offered Draco. The other boy startled before nodding, looking both pleased and surprised.

"Yeah, that sounds good," he agreed. Harry smiled and turned back to his food.

"Making proper friends with the enemy?" Fred asked him, with a grin, that let Harry know he was teasing.

"Enemy is a bit strong," Harry told him. "He's been a git, but he doesn't know any better."

"He should know better than to wish his classmate dead," George scowled from Fred's other side.

"His dad is Lucius Malfoy, when was he supposed to learn any better?" Harry asked. Draco winced beside him. Harry felt a bit bad for saying it so bluntly, but, at the same time, he knew he was right. George scoffed while Fred shrugged.

"Most of us just know that wishing death on someone is a bad thing," Fred pointed out.

"Like you wished death on my relatives?"

"That's different. They hurt you and locked you in a cupboard for ten years. Hermione didn't do anything to Malfoy except beat him in exam results," George put in with a scowl.

"I have apologised for what I said," Draco reminded them, avoiding the hard gaze of both twins.

"You gave some half-hearted blanket apology that didn't really mean anything," Fred scoffed. "You were happily being your usual self, up until we arrived here, and we're expected to believe you've changed?"

Harry watched as Draco grimaced. Draco was unsure how to reply. He didn't know how to explain the constant change of emotions he'd experienced since being in the room. He didn't understand how he was feeling, let alone trying to explain it to someone else. They had all mocked him for 'milking' his injury from that blasted hippogriff, but Draco had never experienced such pain. He had never been on the receiving end of such an injury before, and he'd thought himself invincible. That he'd always be protected. Realising he wasn't, had been a steep learning curve for the young Slytherin and he'd panicked about his public image, which his father had always told him was the most important thing. Yes, he'd taken advantage of it, but he was a Slytherin, it was how he'd been raised.

"You don't have to believe anything," he sneered, more out of reflex than anything. Out of all the weasels, the twins were both the best and the worst. And he suspected Harry was the key to getting them on board as with pretty much everyone else.

Harry was then summoned by Mad-Eye and Draco found himself alone once more. He was still wary of Mad-Eye. The auror creeped him out. Nor did he wish to be a test subject for whatever those blasted twins came up with. Instead, he settled into his rooms he shared with his mother until Harry returned from whatever training Mad-Eye Moody put him through.

Harry entered the training room eagerly. He enjoyed learning from Mad-Eye, and it felt good to be good at something, other than Quidditch.

"We'll not be learning any new spells today, lad. You've done well on new spells so far, but today we're doing accuracy drills. It's no good flinging spells around if you can't hit anything." Harry nodded. He already had his wand out, experience taught him to have it out before even entering the room. So, when Moody, shot some sort of target, about the size of a bludger, out of his wand, Harry was ready to fire a stunning spell at it. He missed, though it was close. Several more targets shot from the older man's wand. Harry instinctively fired off rapid stunners. This time around half of his shots hit their targets.

"You play Quidditch, you anticipate where the enemy are going to move, you anticipate where that snitch is going to move to. We'll move up to speed drills soon, but for now you don't have to hit them immediately. Focus on waiting until you're sure you will get a hit," Moody told him. Harry nodded.

They started again, and this time, Harry didn't fire off his spells immediately. The targets went flying around the room and he focused on them one at a time. It took him a couple of minutes, and a few misses, but he hit every single target. Moody put him through the same drill over and over again, until Harry could hit ten targets in one minute without missing once.

Then they discussed spell chains, and which spells that Harry already knew that made the best chains, allowing him to cast more spells more quickly. Then he had to cast them at a dummy over and over while Moody recorded how many spells he could get off in the space of thirty seconds. They repeated this for another hour before Moody called a halt.

"That's enough for tonight, but it's something you should keep practising, even when we get out of here. Never know when you might need it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Harry nodded, feeling exhausted, as he always did after these sessions. But even though they'd only been doing it for a number of days, Harry felt better in himself already. He knew he could learn spells quickly. He could already feel the difference in the number of spells he could cast before he got this tired.

However much he hated hearing these books, he was grateful for what he'd gained out of it so far. His godfather, for one. Actually, spending time with Sirius, hearing about his parents. While Sirius had a tendency to put them, especially his dad, on a pedestal, Remus often offered other insights. His mother's temper and quick wit, his dad's affinity with drawing. Things that made them real people in his mind, not just an ideal. It amazed him to find out his dad had drawn the Marauder's Map. He'd used magic as well, but he had been the artist behind it all.

As he pondered all this, he went to look for Draco so they could have their chess game. He was likely to get slaughtered, but he still didn't know the other boy well enough to know what else to suggest.

It took him a while, but eventually he ran into Narcissa, who said Draco was in their rooms and she would send him out. Harry set up the board while he waited, and a few moments later, the Slytherin arrived.

There was an awkward silence and Draco sat down, and Harry made the first move.

"How was your time with Professor Moody?" Draco asked eventually, just to fill the silence.

"It was good." Harry gave him an overview of what they had been doing.

"Spell chains are quite advanced," he commented.

"I can't do very many. I don't really know enough spells," Harry admitted. "But at least it's interesting. What were you doing?"

"Reading."

"Reading? I didn't know you could read?" Harry teased, recalling Draco saying the same words to him when he was Polyjuiced as Goyle. Draco flushed.

"Of course I can read, Potter," he said defensively.

"Back to Potter again?"

"Well, if you're going to be rude,"

"I was joking, Malfoy. You said it to Goyle when it was actually me in second year. Although, now I think about it, I don't think that exact comment was actually mentioned in the book. It was while we were walking to the Slytherin common room." Draco blinked at him.

"Oh, yes. I remember now. You said something about reading at dinner. I really should have known it wasn't Goyle then. I don't think I've ever seen him read anything, unless he was forced to by a teacher or something," Draco muttered, mostly to himself.

"And nobody except Hermione and some Ravenclaws read during mealtimes. I just couldn't think of anything else to say when you asked where we had been."

"How about eating? That's all Crabbe and Goyle ever do? And makes sense, given you said you were in the Great Hall."

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged, "I wasn't the best liar back then."

"Back then?" Harry glared at him while Draco laughed. Harry realised he'd never really heard Draco laugh before. At least, not properly. Usually it was just a sneer, or a mean chuckle.

They continued playing and Harry was losing heavily when Ron came over.

"Knight to E4," he suggested. Harry followed the suggestion, and his knight took one of Draco's rooks, causing Draco to glower at Ron.

"Don't help him."

"Someone has to. It's unfair otherwise. Like playing someone with a handicap."

"I do not have a handicap!" Harry protested.

"You're so bad at chess, you might as well," Ron told him. Draco laughed and then immediately stopped as he realised, he was laughing at something Ron had said.

"If I'm so bad, why don't you take over the game?" He suggested to Ron, standing up. Ron sat down and the two of them continued the game as Harry watched. They traded pieces and insults, causing Harry to roll his eyes on more than one occasion. He played referee between the two throughout and actually had more fun than he expected.

Ron won in the end, despite taking over from Harry's abysmal start to the game.

"You know, Weasley, you could compete in the chess circuit. You'd finally be able to make some decent money," Draco stated, in the most civil voice he'd ever used when talking to Ron. Ron blinked at him in surprise, mouth falling open.

"What?"

"I'm not repeating myself if you're too dense to understand." Ron closed his mouth and glared at Draco.

Ok, well, thanks for the game. It's getting late and I think I'm gonna turn in," Harry interrupted before Ron could say something else.

"Yes, I need my beauty sleep."

"I think it's going to take more than a night's sleep to make you beautiful," Harry told him with a grin, causing Ron to snort. Draco scowled.

"At least I don't have a bird's nest on my head," he retorted. Harry just laughed, imagining Draco with the Potter hair.

They all went their separate ways. Harry headed to his rooms to find Sirius and Remus both in the sitting room, talking together on the couch.

"Hey pup," Sirius greeted him, waving him over. Harry sat down on Sirius' other side.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Oh, just old memories," Remus smiled slightly. Then he shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. "Harry, I owe you an apology. Several really. I was able to convince myself that I had to keep you at a professional distance this last year, though I failed several times. I tried to see you several times when you were younger and Albus rebuffed me every time, so I gave up. Much as I gave up on Sirius without a fight either," he looked ashamed. "The longer I left it, the harder it seemed, and when I first heard you on that train, it seemed too… odd to introduce myself with any familiarity." Remus paused, clearly looking for the right words.

"It's fine, Remus," Harry told him, wanting to put the man out of his misery.

"No. It's not. I let you down. Continually, like everyone else in these rooms."

"You taught me to fight off dementors. That's more than anyone else did for me," Harry pointed out.

"Teaching you what you need to protect yourself is the duty of this school. It was the bare minimum, though I'm being made aware that over the last few years you have not even been granted the bare minimum you deserve," Remus stated.

"What Remy is trying to say is that he was an idiot, and he won't keep such a distance going forwards," Sirius told him bluntly.

"Sirius…" Remus sighed in exasperation. Harry looked between the two of them. It certainly answered a few questions that he had had, and Remus had been not keeping such a distance with him since they'd arrived in the room. "Someone needs to balance out Sirius' influence on you," Remus chuckled eventually. Harry grinned slightly.

"I seem to recall both of you getting into a prank war with the twins."

"Someone had to make sure it didn't go too far."

"Oh please," Sirius snorted. "You had just as much fun as I did, no adulting happened." Remus rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree. Harry gave his excuses and retired to his room. He picked up the book Bil had recommended to him on Arithmancy. He was getting a good grip on the basics now, although he certainly understood why Hermione had been under so much strain the last year. Between Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, his brain felt like it was full of cotton wool, let alone every other subject Hogwarts had to offer.

Still, it would be worth it to have some more career options after Hogwarts. Divination might not be a complete hoax, but he was unwilling to believe many jobs had it as a requirement.

After an hour or so, he decided to get some sleep.

Percy sat reading a book in the family sitting room. The rest of the family were around somewhere, and he was quite happy to have some peace and quiet. He stared at the page, not really taking any of it in. His mind was on the book they had been reading all afternoon. He didn't really know how to feel about any of it. A great many uncomfortable truths had been revealed so far, and he expected even more were still to come.

It was hard to see your own behaviour through such a microscope, analysed terribly closely and found wanting. He had applied to work at the Department of International Magical Co-operation, under Mr. Crouch. And now he was wondering if what Sirius said was true. A week ago, he would never have imagined believing the word of Sirius Black of all people, but these last few days had shaken everything he believed in.

Whatcha reading, Perc?" One of the twins stuck his head around the door and spotted Percy, as he was the only one in the room. Percy shook his head to clear it.

"Uh, a book about, uh, careers in the Ministry," he admitted. Then he winced, waiting for the scathing remark.

"Really? All the books you could possibly read that this room will give you and you pick that one?" The twin, (possibly George?) commented.

"I haven't read a word in the last half an hour to be honest. I just can't stop thinking about the day's reading."

"I think we all are really. It's why I like potions, they require complete focus and doesn't give me time to dwell on it," George admitted. Definitely George. Fred hated potions. "Want to come and help? I know you took NEWT potions."

"Really? You want me to help with your precious pranks?" Percy raised both eyebrows.

"I know pranking is beneath you, I just thought…" he tailed off, looking awkward.

"No. I, uh, I appreciate the thought. I would like to," he found himself saying. Honestly, he didn't know why he said it. But all he knew was that anything was better than staring at some pages, mind wandering. George looked surprised but then he grinned.

"Come on then." Percy rose and followed him into the twins' lab room. Fred was standing over a desk, waving his wand and chanting. Once he finished whatever he was doing, he looked up and his eyebrows shot up.

"First Hermione, now Perc? Why are we suddenly hosting all of the biggest goody-two shoes in the group?"

"Percy's going to give me a hand with the potion. We both find it relaxing after a day hearing about all the fun stuff like dementors and such." Fred's expression softened and he nodded.

"I won't disturb you. I've got plenty to get on with over here anyway." The twins shared a look that held a whole conversation, and Percy felt a twang of envy. He'd never been close enough to another person to communicate with anyone like that. Definitely not his siblings. He looked away and walked over to the bench of cauldrons. Two were already bubbling away and George took one look at them before removing a stasis charm with the flick of a wand. He told Percy what steps were required, and they worked quietly, side by side for the remainder of the evening.

Bill ran a hand down his face in both exhaustion and frustration. He was no further forward in finding a way to prepare an object to host a horcrux without using dark magic. Which made sense, but he didn't have to like it. He was also struggling with adapting the spell to work on a human host. The biggest problem he was facing, was separating the horcrux from Harry and ensuring he didn't accidentally remove Harry's soul, or something equally terrible. To make things even more complicated, he didn't know how entwined the two souls were, enough to give Harry the ability to speak Parseltongue.

It was getting frustrating enough he contemplated asking for help, but wasn't sure who to appeal to. It was Harry's secret to tell which meant that the people who already knew he could ask was limited to a grand total of one.

Dumbledore.

Would he even help? Bill immediately felt bad for that thought. Of course, the Headmaster would help. He might have been short-sighted and too focused on the thought that he knew best, but he didn't want Harry to die. Of that, Bill was sure. He stood up, yawned, and went to find the headmaster.

He eventually found him sitting alone in a living room in an armchair by the fire, looking, well, Bill wasn't sure exactly what he looked like. He seemed older than he ever had before. Dumbledore appeared to be staring into the fire, lost in thought.

"Mr. Weasley, how may I help you?" He asked, not even looking round. Bill moved into the room, closing the door and putting up a silencing charm.

"I found the spell to transfer a horcrux. But we would need a prepared container to put it in, and a way to ensure that Riddle's soul piece is completely separate from Harry's and that we transfer the correct piece. Which I am struggling with and thought you might be able to help."

"You found such a spell? Well, that is a relief," Dumbledore stated, and he looked like he meant it. He was silent and thoughtful for several moments and Bill decided to take the seat opposite him. "I believe that ensuring the correct piece of soul will be the easiest part. It will not be difficult to ensure the spell transfers the 'foreign piece'. Separating the two will be more problematic, especially ensuring that Harry is not hurt in the process."

"But you think it could work?" Bill was normally confident in his own work, but this was uncharted territory, and the price if he failed? It would be Harry's life.

"I believe it is worth trying," Dumbledore stated. "Although, I must admit, I am surprised you came to me with this." Bill sighed.

"While I do believe that Severus would be helpful in this endeavour, he does not yet know about the horcruxes, and I feel it is Harry's secret to tell while we remain trapped here. And, despite our… previous conversation, I know you do care for Harry. Even if you have an… interesting way of showing it sometimes."

"Of course I care for Mr. Potter," Dumbledore frowned. Bill produced the books he'd been looking in and they began pouring over them, scribbling down Arithmancy calculations at a rapid rate.

Emmeline sought out Neville after dinner. They'd spoken throughout the readings, and she was horrified by the treatment he had received at Hogwarts, both from the staff and other students. However, she still had made very little effort to get to know him outside of that. For a few reasons, but she felt terrible for it. The other kids didn't seem to spend an awful lot of time with him, except for the young blonde girl… Luna, possibly.

She found him still sitting at the kitchen table, talking with Luna and Ginny. She paused in the entryway, not quite sure what to say. It was odd, seeing the child of Alice and Frank, knowing she was a stranger to him. A fact that was solely her own fault.

"Er, hello?" Neville said, having spotted her.

"Hello," she replied. "I thought we might speak a while. I thought you might like to hear some stories about your parents, but we can do that another time if you're busy with your friends." He stared at her, eyes wide with shock.

"R...really?" He stammered.

"Yes. I have been… remiss in not telling you any before now. I cannot imagine Augusta gave an entirely… accurate view of them when they were your age." Neville seemed too stunned to speak until Ginny gave him a nudge.

"Go on, Nev. We'll still be here later." Neville nodded dumbly and got to his feet.

Emmeline led him to a nearby sitting room and took a seat. Neville nervously followed her lead.

"First of all, I should apologize for not ever contacting you before this. Alice was a good friend and when they died, I just… but that's no excuse. While I had no idea Augusta would be so… well, unacceptable as a guardian. I thought you were well looked after and threw myself into my work to avoid my own grief. All of my best friends died, within months of each other. Marlene, Dorcas, Lily and then Alice was... gone too. I am sorry, Neville."

"It's alright," he mumbled.

"It's not. But I am grateful for your easy forgiveness."

"What were they like?" He asked quietly after several seconds of silence.

"Your mother was… warm. A true Hufflepuff, she loved Herbology and Charms the most. She was dead clumsy, and her memory was atrocious, which meant people underestimated her and Merlin did she take advantage. She'd help anyone in need and befriended anything she came across, human or animal and, much like Remus, always had sweets on hand to give out. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum were her favourites. If you were her friend, she'd fight hell itself to help you, but if you crossed her, well, there was a reason she made a brilliant Auror," Emmeline smiled to herself. "She was outgoing, funny and had a temper to match Lily's. Dorcas and I often had to play mediator. She was also a prefect, although Lily was made head girl." Neville stared at her, soaking up every single word and it made her wonder. Had he not known any of this? Surely Augusta spoke about them sometimes?

"I didn't know Frank as well; he was a couple of years above us. He was a Gryffindor, as I'm sure you know. He and Alice started dating when she was a fourth year and he a sixth, I'm pretty sure they met in the library. Frank practically lived there. He was pretty shy, quiet, liked to study, and he was prefect and head boy. I think Alice drew him out of his shell a bit, taught him how to have some fun and he started hanging out with us sometimes. Still, he was fierce when provoked and a loyal friend."

"Gran told me he had been prefect and head boy. I think she somehow expects me to live up to that," Neville admitted. "And I'm not going to be either."

"You don't know that," she told him.

"I do," he gave her a slight smile.

They talked for several hours about Frank and Alice. Emmeline told stories she hadn't spoken about with anyone since her friends had died or gone to St Mungos permanently, but if anyone deserved to hear them. It was Neville. She had a few to share with Harry about James and Lily too, but he had Sirius and Remus for that. And all the professors seemed willing enough to talk about them. Nobody had really mentioned Frank and Alice.

Eventually Neville yawned once too often, and Emmeline decided it was time for bed. He didn't argue and immediately stood up, ready to leave. As he got to the door, he stopped and turned around.

"Thank you. Do… do you think we could, uh, do this again?" He asked nervously.

"Of course," she promised.

The next morning, everyone woke anxious to finish the day's reading, knowing they would likely finish the third book. After that, they would be moving onto the future, which made them all both excited and worried.

The one person not looking forward to the day, was Sirius. He knew his behaviour in the shack had been terrible, Merlin he'd even tried to strangle Harry. He felt more than a trickle of shame every time he remembered that night. He'd been useless in every way. It had been Harry and his friends that stopped Snape dragging him and Remus to the dementors, Harry who had chased away the dementors trying to claim his soul. Sirius had done nothing.

After breakfast, the younger group completed their various lessons throughout the morning. Some of the adults were teaching, and those that weren't spent their time going over what they had learned previously so they didn't forget any crucial details.

Lunch was a quiet affair as they all prepared themselves for the afternoon's reading. When everyone had taken their seats, Arthur picked up the book and turned to the correct page.