Harry Potter Promise NR.8

Chapter 17
Disclaimer: not mine

Snape looked up at the sound of the knock on his door, and set aside the essay he had been grading. An abysmal effort by a second year Hufflepuff, barely worth the parchment it had been written on.

He opened the door to see Black standing on the other side.

Sirius tried not to let any apprehension show. “Snape. You wanted to speak with me?”

Snape nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for the Defense professor to enter his office.

Once the two men were inside, Snape put up several privacy wards. That act done, he leaned against his desk, and observed his onetime nemesis. Black looked composed. He was wearing his public face, the one Snape had seen staring up at him in an article in the Prophet a few weeks ago, when Umbridge had been arrested, Fudge ousted from office, and Bones named Interim Minister. His expression gave nothing away.

Severus knew he would have to be the first one to speak here. He had, after all, been the one to ask Black for a word. His conversation with Minerva had been rather enlightening, and he knew that she was right. It was time to let it go. Black may have been a prat, and the bane of his existence back in school, but he had to admit, he had seen how much the man had changed. The Sirius Black at fifteen, or sixteen, or even seventeen, was nothing like the Sirius Black, Harry Potter’s guardian, fiancé to the Interim Minister of Magic.

After several minutes of silence, Snape finally spoke. “I talked to Minerva a few weeks ago,” he admitted gruffly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” he queried blandly.

Snape nodded. “I’ve had some concerns about Albus for a while, and I thought she should know. As it turns out, she was already aware of most of it.”

“And the rest?” Sirius asked, crossing his arms across his chest and shifting his weight to one leg.

Snape shrugged. “Albus wants me to teach Potter Occlumency this term.”

Sirius furrowed his brow. “Harry’s already mastered Occlumency,” he informed the potion’s master.

Snape nodded. “I know. And I would bet anything that Albus knows that as well. So why ask me to teach him?”

“And just how do you know that Harry’s mastered the subject?”

Snape bit his lip. “I read cursory thoughts and emotions on occasion,” he admitted. He saw Sirius gearing up to tear into him, so he hurried on with his explanation. “I never go deeper without permission, but sometimes hearing those surface thoughts can stop something from happening. Especially in the past, before Potter’s club united the majority of the school.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “I understand. I might not like it, but I do understand. Does Albus do this as well?”

Snape shrugged. “I’m sure he’s tested Potter’s defenses, but I haven’t been able to get anything from the boy in over a year, not even surface thoughts, so I doubt he has either.”

Sirius smirked internally, knowing that no one would have been able to see anything once Harry had begun wearing his charmed bracelet; the Blacks were a paranoid bunch, and their Family Magic was strong. Those charms he and Harry had used were powerful. “So why ask you to teach him?”

Snape shook his head exasperatedly. “I think he sees it as another test, another way of gaining control over the boy. Either that or he’s hoping I’ll wear him down or something; it’s not any secret that I can’t stand the boy. But I’m seeing fewer and fewer reasons to go along with his plans.”

Sirius essentially smiled. “Good,” he said. “Albus has a lot to answer for. The real question is, can we put aside all of our history to actually work together? Harry says you’ve been better over the last year, but he’s also told me about his first three years of Potions. Did you really ask him questions about things he wouldn’t learn for at least another two years in his first class?”

Snape actually looked guilty, turning his gaze to the floor. “I spent so long hating James Potter, that I immediately transferred all of that to his son, before I had even met him. It wasn’t right, and I know I should speak with him. I was so lost in my own pity party that I didn’t see the signs.”

Sirius leaned forward slightly, confused. “What signs?”

Snape looked up, focusing on the man in front of him. “How much like Lily he really is. And what was going on with his relatives.”

Sirius started. “You know?” His voice was quiet.

Snape nodded. “Minerva told me, but when I think back to the last few years, I could see signs. I know how an abused child acts. I ought to, after my own childhood. But I was so set in my ways, unwilling to see the truth when it was staring me in the face, that I ignored it. Even if he weren’t Lily’s child, no one should have to deal with that.”

Sirius sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “What are you hoping will happen today?” he asked curiously.

Snape shrugged again. “Minerva suggested I speak with you. And she’s right. Everything between us… it’s in the past. Mistakes were made on both sides, and maybe there’s too much between us to actually be friends, but I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of holding onto the hate.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. That was certainly unexpected. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I never actually expected you to go to the Whomping Willow that night. Merlin, Snape, you never listened to me before, why that one time?”

Snape shook his head. Truthfully, he really didn’t know. “So…” he hedged.

Sirius let out a chuckle. “We can’t really start over, and yeah, I don’t know if I’ll ever actually like you, but… mutual nonaggression?”

Snape snorted. “Sounds good,” he agreed, holding out his hand.

Sirius took it, shaking firmly. A knock at the door distracted them, and the Black Lord looked over, confused.

Snape looked uncomfortable. “I did say I should speak with Potter. I asked him to come down here after his Quidditch practice was over. Enter,” he called out.

Sirius stepped aside and watched as his godson walked into the office, looking nervous but trying to hide it.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” he asked cautiously, raising his eyebrow as he noticed his godfather in the room as well. “Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all,” Sirius replied hastily. “I didn’t know you were coming. Should I leave you two alone?” he asked, turning to Snape.

Snape considered, and then gave a single nod. It might be easier to have this conversation if it was just him and Potter.

Sirius returned the nod, and turned back to Harry. “I’ll see you later, all right?”

Harry smiled at his godfather, but knew it probably showed all the butterflies in his stomach, as the man left.

When it was just him and the Potions professor alone, Snape gestured for the teenager to take a seat, which he did, his nerves jangling.

Snape studied the son of his childhood nemesis and his best friend, while Harry grew increasingly anxious.

After a minute of silence, Harry finally spoke. “Is everything all right, Professor?”

Snape nodded, sighing. His mask dropped a little, and Harry was surprised to see the emotions on the professor’s face. There was trepidation, tiredness, caring, and even a little fear. “I’m not sure if you are aware that I attended school with your parents.” He paused and waited for Harry’s nod to tell him that the student had known. “Your father and I did not get along. He, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew spent most of our seven years at school playing pranks on the Slytherins, but me in particular. That’s not to say we did not retaliate, and to be fair, our retaliation probably did cross over into cruel and vindictive on more than one occasion.”

Harry nodded. He remembered Dumbledore telling him that Snape and his father hadn’t gotten on at school, and how his father had saved Snape’s life, which was why the professor had saved him from Quirrel’s jinx on his broom, his first year. Sirius had given him more information, telling him about his prank on Snape that had almost gotten the Slytherin killed, and how much Sirius regretted it. How his father and Remus hadn’t spoken to Sirius for two months afterwards, how he had had to work to regain their trust, and how much more he treasured their presence in his life when they were friends again – he had run away from his parents’ house the summer after that incident, knowing that he needed to get out from under their dark influence.

Snape shifted his stance. “Your mother and I, on the other hand, were very close, for a few years. Did you know that we grew up in the same neighborhood?” Harry shook his head, surprised. Why had no one told him that before? Snape nodded, his eyes glazing over a little as he thought back to his childhood friendship. “I was the one who told Lily she was a witch. I told her about Hogwarts, and the wizarding society as I knew it. She helped me so much more, though. My home life was not exactly what one would call good.” Harry looked even more surprised. Could it be that he had more in common with the Potions master than he thought? “Lily was my escape. My muggle father was a very unhappy man, and he took that out on me and my mother on more than one occasion.”

He wasn’t quite certain why he was telling Harry this, but he figured, if he was to start over with the boy, Harry deserved honesty. “Even after we were sorted into different houses, Lily and I remained close. She received a lot of grief for it from her friends, but she wouldn’t give up on me. I think Alice Prewitt was the only one of her friends who never tried to get her to stop speaking with me.”

“Neville’s mum?” Harry cut in, and then winced, expecting some sort of blow up from the professor.

But Snape just nodded, his thoughts still in the past. “Alice was a very kind girl, an attribute she never lost as she grew up.”

He paused again, unsure of how to cover his falling out with his best friend.

Of course, Harry asked the question before he was really ready to speak about it. “What happened between you? Sirius mentioned some sort of altercation your fifth year, but he wouldn’t say much about it.”

Snape sighed. “Not one of my finer moments.” He admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. “Your father and I got into a somewhat public argument after our OWL exams, in front of a rather large crowd. Lily tried to come to my defense, but in my embarrassment, I called her a mudblood.” Harry inhaled sharply, and Snape looked up, the shame clearly written on his face. “It’s something I’ve regretted since I said it. I tried to apologize, but for Lily, it was just the final nail in the coffin, and she was probably right to leave me behind by that point. I had spent so much time listening to, and spending time with, various future Death Eaters – Avery, Macnair, names you probably know all too well – and she hated how I would treat her well, and then put down every other muggleborn in the school. She should have left me behind long before she did.”

Harry felt the sympathy rise in him. He could clearly see how much Snape regretted his decisions. “Why did you switch sides?” he asked. “If you’re willing to tell me.”

Snape felt his heart stop. He swallowed harshly, and closed his eyes. “I will tell you, but you’ll probably want nothing to do with me afterwards.”

Harry grimaced. “I need to know. I can see how much you regret everything you’ve done, but if I’m going to trust you, I need you to give me a reason.”

Snape nodded slowly. “Roughly sixteen years ago, Dumbledore was interviewing a potential candidate for the position of Divination Professor. I was sent by the Dark Lord to spy on the headmaster, to gather information. I wasn’t expecting to hear anything that day, but as the interview wrapped up, I overheard the first part of a prophecy. I was thrown out before I heard all of it, but I reported what I knew to the Dark Lord.”

“And he went after my family,” Harry breathed, his eyes wide.

Snape sighed. “As soon as I heard that he thought it applied to you, I went to Dumbledore. To my shame, I didn’t really care what happened to you or your father. But I couldn’t bear it if I had some role in getting Lily killed. But in the end, it didn’t matter. She died anyway. In my grief, Dumbledore had me vow to protect you.”

He trailed off into silence, and waited for Harry’s response.

Harry’s emotions were turbulent. He had known that it had been a prophecy to start Voldemort on the path to destroy his family, but he hadn’t known how the Dark Lord had been set on that path. He didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, Snape was the reason his parents were dead. The reason he had grown up with the Dursleys. The reason Sirius had gone to Azkaban – well, there were many people who had some part to blame in that, but if Voldemort had never killed his parents, Sirius wouldn’t have been locked up.

On the other hand, Snape had told him. He had disclosed the information willingly, trusting him to be able to handle it. He could see, just looking at the anguish on the Potions professor’s face, how much the man regretted his choices.

“What did it say?” he asked quietly, his voice even, giving away nothing.

Snape bit his lip. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. That’s all I heard, so I don’t know the rest.”

Harry nodded slowly. “You’ve done more than Dumbledore ever has, so thank you.” Snape started, surprised. Harry almost smiled. “Dumbledore’s known the prophecy for years, and I’ve asked why Voldemort came after my family, but the headmaster seems to feel I don’t deserve to know.” There was a hint of steel in his tone, annoyance for an old man who wouldn’t let him live his own life.

Snape chuckled a little, a sound that Harry had certainly never heard coming from the stoic man before. “The old man does certainly play things close to the chest.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “A muggle expression, I’m impressed.”

The chuckle turned into an actual laugh. “I am a halfblood, Potter.”

Harry nodded, and the professor sobered. Harry shifted in his seat. “I can see how much you regret everything. And I can understand why you hated my dad. Sirius has told me a lot about their school days, so I know that they were bullies. Spoiled, selfish, and arrogant. I’ve heard those words used to describe them many times. But you took that anger and put it on the shoulders of an eleven-year-old boy who had never known the man you despised. How was that fair?”

Snape winced, and couldn’t answer. It wasn’t. He really had no excuse.

Harry waited for another minute, but when no explanation was forthcoming, he just sighed. “As for the prophecy… it doesn’t point exclusively to me. Why did he come after me?”

Snape bit his lip. “I believe there were two options. You and Longbottom were both born at the end of July, and your parents had both defied the Dark Lord three times before your births. As for why you… I cannot speculate to the Dark Lord’s reasoning. I am sorry.”

Those three words, more than anything else, stopped Harry in his tracks. Had Snape just… apologized to him?

Snape sighed again. “It was not right for me to place my hatred for your father on you. I have no excuse for that.”

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly. “Something changed last year though, didn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, even if it was phrased as one. “You used to pay a lot more attention to me in class. You picked on me for three solid years. So what’s different now? What changed?”

One side of Snape’s mouth quirked upwards. “You did. Something about living with Minerva and Black brought out the Lily in you. Or at least, it opened my eyes to the realization that you are so much more like your mother than I had realized.”

“How so?” Harry asked curiously. Sirius had told him a lot about his parents, but he was interested to hear what Snape thought.

Snape smiled reminiscently. “Lily was a kind and caring person, who tried to see the good in everyone. I believe that leaving your muggle aunt and uncle behind allowed you to open up more. You’ve become more outgoing, something all the professors noticed. Just like Lily. Your schoolwork has improved significantly. Lily was incredibly gifted, particularly in Potions and Charms, two areas I believe you inherited her talent.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “After three years of calling me a dunderhead, you’re now changing your mind?”

Snape shook his head. “Your work improved a great deal last year. I’m assuming you spent some time revising the subject?”

Harry snorted. “You could say that. My aunt and uncle always punished me when I did better than Dudley in school, so I guess subconsciously, I was still holding back. Aunt Minerva took me to Flourish and Blotts and helped me pick a bunch of books on Potions. It was so much easier once I knew more about why cutting ingredients and stirring certain ways was important. Potions was the subject I was looking forward to most when I came here, until you started in on me immediately, in my first class. How was I supposed to know the answers to those questions? I looked them up later. Those questions wouldn’t have come up until third year at the earliest.”

Snape winced. “Not one of my finer moments,” he admitted ruefully. “I do apologize for that. But I can see, now, how your talent in the subject has emerged. The mark of a good brewer is intuition, and I can see that in you. To that end, I will promise you to stop subjecting your grades to bias. I hope you can understand that I will need to maintain a public dislike of you, for those children of Death Eaters who still report back to their parents, but I won’t go too far, and I’ll give you the grades your work deserves.”

“Can you maybe lay off the Gryffindors as a whole, at least a little?” Harry asked reasonably. “I know you’ve got that image to maintain, especially if any change might get back to Voldemort, but just… tone it down, all right? I’ve had to work really hard on Neville’s self esteem, something you’ve contributed negatively to for years. He’s actually not that bad, without you breathing down his neck.”

Snape let out a breath of air. “I’ll try,” he agreed. “I have to admit, Longbottom and Weasley have improved this year as well. I’m guessing you leant them some of your books?”

Harry nodded. “Ron was a little more hesitant, but even he had to admit that Potions Making for Dummies was one of the best books he’s ever read.”

Snape chuckled. “That book is very informative. Perhaps I should consider adding it to the first year booklist.”

Harry nodded eagerly. “It would have been very helpful to have a few years ago,” he agreed.

There was another moment of silence, as they each tried to think of something to say. Harry stood up awkwardly. “Look, Professor, I know you regret everything, and I know you wish you could change it. But there’s something I want clarification on.” Snape nodded stoically. “You said that when you heard it might apply to me, to my mum, you switched sides.” Snape nodded again. Harry sighed. “Why should it have mattered? If it was me, or Neville, or anyone else. Would you have cared so much if he went after Neville?”

Snape winced. Truthfully, he probably wouldn’t have, back then. He looked into Harry’s eyes, and he could see that the teenager knew his answer. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

“Honestly, Potter, no. I probably wouldn’t have. At least, not then. I switched sides because Lily was threatened. I can understand how horrible that sounds, and I know it was wrong, now, but back then, all I cared about was my childhood friend.” Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Snape kept going, his eyes glazing over a little as he got caught up in the past. “All I wanted was revenge. On my father, on your father, on Black, on everyone who had made my life a living hell. When I overheard the prophecy, I thought that was my ticket to power. I thought I could get my revenge. It took me a long time to realize that an eye for an eye does in fact make the whole world blind.”

Harry snorted at the muggle saying, even through his anger.

Snape shook his head, sighing ruefully. “Revenge doesn’t solve anything. And power just corrupts people.”

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” Harry broke in, smiling softly. Even if he was upset, he could see Snape’s regret.

Snape nodded. “So that’s what happened to Albus,” he mused quietly. Harry snorted again, agreeing, and Snape looked up, right into those bright green eyes. Lily’s eyes. “If I had one wish, I would go back and not tell the Dark Lord anything,” he stated. “I wish I hadn’t gotten involved with the Death Eaters. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Harry, but betraying my best friend tops that list.”

Harry bit his lip, thinking over what he had learned that evening. He didn’t really know what to feel. Snape had been honest, but he was also the reason why his parents were dead. And more than that, he had willingly admitted that the only reason he had switched sides was because it had been Lily who had been threatened. If Voldemort had focused on anyone else, Snape would probably still be a willing Death Eater. Maybe. Harry truthfully didn’t really know what else may have contributed to Snape’s change in views, but for him to be thawing out, and sharing this information, surely there had to be other factors involved.

After several minutes of silence, Harry sighed. “I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure Ginny’s wondering where I am.”

Snape nodded, taking down the privacy wards. “Thank you for hearing me out,” he said, the words forming uncomfortably in his mouth.

Harry shrugged. “Thanks for telling me the truth. I’m not really sure what to do with everything you told me, but I’ll think about it. Did you have a similar conversation with Sirius too? Is that why he was here?”

Snape nodded again. “We’ve put aside the past, and while we probably will never become friends, we will be able to coexist in peace.”

Harry smiled. “Good,” he replied. “I know he regrets how he acted as a teenager.”

Snape shifted uncomfortably. “I do as well. We all have regrets, Potter… Harry. The only thing we can do is to acknowledge our mistakes and promise to do better in the future.”

Harry was unused to a philosophical Snape, so he stumbled out a good night, and headed up to find his friends. Ginny had told him that they were going to spend the evening in the Room of Requirement, studying, so he headed up to join them.

Ginny looked up as Harry flopped down next to her on the solitary sofa in the room they had created for animagus practice.

In the rest of the space, Hermione was working on levitating her feather, while Susan was working on transforming her arms into wings, Ron had managed to change one arm into a fur covered limb, and Neville had successfully traded his arms and legs for those of a wolf’s.

“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked worriedly, taking in his almost shocked expression.

Harry looked over at his girlfriend. “Snape just apologized to me.”

His declaration caused Neville to return his limbs to normal, while Ron lost his concentration, the fur retreating and his arm returning to a human’s, Susan’s wings disappeared, and Hermione’s feather dropped back to the ground.

“What?” Ron asked, his eyes widening as he looked at his best friend.

Harry grimaced. “He apparently has had a change of heart, and decided that holding onto a two decade old feud with a dead man was not healthy. He talked to Aunt Minerva a while back, and I guess she convinced him to speak with me and Sirius to clear the air.”

“What did he say?” Neville asked cautiously.

Harry looked over at his friend. Of all of them, Neville deserved to know. He repeated the lines of the prophecy that Snape had told him. “He was the one who told Voldemort.” He barely acknowledged Ron’s lack of a flinch at the name. “When he found out Voldemort thought it might be me, he went to Dumbledore. Turns out, he and my mum were really good friends in school.”

Neville furrowed his brow. “The prophecy doesn’t seem to point to you directly,” he commented quietly.

Harry nodded somberly. “Snape doesn’t know the rest of it, but with the part that he overheard… there were two options. Me or you.”

Neville inhaled sharply. “So… why you?”

Harry shook his head, biting his lip. “Snape doesn’t know, and neither do I.”

“So what did you say to all this?” Susan asked curiously. “Snape’s the reason Voldemort went after your family.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “But… I could see how much he regretted it. For some reason, I trust him. He actually told me why he switched sides. Dumbledore just says he trusts Snape, but that doesn’t really mean anything to me. Snape actually gave me a reason. Even if, indirectly, he is the reason why my parents are dead, it helps. He may have hated my dad, but I don’t think he wanted him to die.”

Hermione smiled softly, leaning forward. “I’m proud of you Harry. And I’m glad that you’ll both be able to put aside the animosity. Hopefully things will get a little better from here.”

Harry sighed. “He’ll still have to act like an arse,” he admitted. “There are still children of Death Eaters who report to their parents, so he can’t give them a reason to doubt his support of Voldemort, or he’s dead. But he did agree to stop laying into the Gryffindors so much, and to grade our work fairly.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Neville said, chuckling.

They all agreed that it could only be a good thing, and went back to work for another hour or so, before it was time to return to the common room.

Are you sure you’re all right? Ginny asked as they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry sighed mentally. I don’t know, he admitted. I know he regrets what he did, and I know my dad and Sirius weren’t blameless, but he still hurt me a lot. And he’s spent the last few years hating me for what my father did to him.

Ginny nodded. It’s not right, but I’m proud of you. Harry quirked an eyebrow, and Ginny smiled. You’re willing to rise above all the animosity. You’re a good person, Harry Potter.

Harry blushed as they reached the Fat Lady’s portrait and entered the common room. It was easy to see how much he wished he could go back and do things differently. He blames himself for my mum’s death. They grew up in the same neighborhood, and were really good friends, until he called her a mudblood in their fifth year. He felt Ginny’s gasp of horror as he collapsed into an armchair by the fireplace. Ginny sat next to him on the same chair, forcing him to scoot over as much as possible, as she cuddled into his side. I believe him when he says how much he regretted it from the moment the word came out of his mouth, but their friendship was over after that. According to him, mum didn’t like how much time he spent with his Death Eater friends. Avery and Macnair, and the like. I really think he would jump at the chance to go back and redo everything.

Ginny nodded, understanding.

Harry looked over at her, his eyes almost amused. He did say something interesting though. ‘We all have regrets. The only thing we can do is to acknowledge our mistakes and promise to do better in the future.’ I never thought Snape could be philosophical.

Ginny snorted. He’s right though, she said. The only thing we can affect is the future. Worrying about the past won’t do anything but make us depressed.

Harry nodded, and gave her a kiss, and then pulled out his Charms textbook to work on an essay that was due at the end of the week, before he and Hermione had to head out for a patrol.

XXX

Ravenclaw beat Slytherin in a narrow victory at the end of January, and Gryffindor slaughtered the badgers two weeks later. The lions were firmly cemented as the front-runners for the Quidditch cup, something that the entire house was ecstatic about.

Lucius Malfoy tried to run against Amelia for Minister of Magic, but failed to even receive the necessary number of supporters in order to be put forward for general election. In order to run, a witch or wizard needed to obtain the backing of at least thirty Wizengamot members and/or department heads, which Malfoy failed to acquire. He could barely get ten, as a matter of fact. Even many of those Dumbledore had written off as dark – but in reality were more neutral, or leaned towards whichever side was shaping up to be the strongest – would not back the Malfoy Lord. And so, on February the Second, Nineteen Ninety Six, Amelia Bones was sworn into office as the official Minister of Magic.

There was a Hogsmeade trip on the weekend before Valentine’s Day, which made everyone happy. Harry and Ginny spent the morning in the village, before returning to the Castle to have an ‘outdoor picnic’ in the Room of Requirement. It was a beautiful setting, a grassy field, complete with wildflowers, mountains in the background, and an overly full picnic basket courtesy of Dobby.

Ron and Hermione enjoyed their day as well, wandering through the village, and having lunch at the Three Broomsticks, before heading back out and spending the rest of the afternoon walking around and talking.

Neville had asked Hannah Abbott to accompany him, while Susan accepted a date with Michael Corner from Ravenclaw. Both had a good time, but weren’t sure if any relationship would develop from the dates.

XXX

On the actual day, Ron and Harry greeted their girlfriends with a kiss, before they headed out for their morning run.

They returned an hour later to shower and get ready for the day; Ron surprised Hermione as they met in the common room to head down to breakfast, presenting her with a wrapped package, his expression a veil of nervousness. Under her friends’ gazes, she opened the present to find a pretty charm bracelet. There was only one charm on it, a silver cat.

Hermione almost tackled her boyfriend, kissing him joyously. “Thank you so much, Ron, I love it!”

Ron smiled happily, and they headed down to the Great Hall.

Ginny’s hand found Harry’s as they walked. Did you help him at all? she asked curiously.

Harry shook his head. I’m proud to say that Ron figured this one out all on his own. I really think he’s growing up.

His mental voice was amused, and Ginny knew he was joking. So do we have any special plans for today? She asked impishly, as they reached the Gryffindor table and started eating.

Harry smiled mischievously. Meet me in the Room of Requirement for dinner. Dress nice.

Ginny nodded, and they turned to their meals.

XXX

Ginny showed up at the Room of Requirement at six o’clock that evening, wearing a simple navy blue dress that cut off at the knees. It was accented by a silver band around her waist, and had off the shoulder cap sleeves.

Harry looked up at her arrival, and smiled. “You look amazing, Gin,” he said, his voice a little breathless.

Ginny returned the smile and went over to kiss him. “You look good too, Harry,” she replied, stepping back half a step. He was wearing black slacks and a light blue button up shirt.

Harry led her over to the table, which was laden with a feast for at least four. He noted, as he held her hand, that she was wearing his mother’s engagement ring that he had given her on her birthday. Ginny smiled as she felt him caress that finger. “I wanted to wear it tonight. On my finger, where it should be.”

Harry nodded. “Soon, Gin. I promise.”

The pair did their best with the food, but there was still a sizeable amount left over at the end. Harry chuckled. “Dobby’s great, but he can be a little overenthusiastic at times.”

Ginny nodded, smiling. “Well, despite there being way too much, it was great. I’m stuffed!”

Harry stood up and held out his hand. “If you’re not too full, would you care to dance?”

Ginny nodded again, taking his hand as Harry pointed his wand at the wireless sitting in the corner. Music started playing, and the pair spent the rest of the evening dancing in each other’s arms.

When it was almost time to head back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry led Ginny back to the table, where he pulled out a small box. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Gin. I love you.”

Ginny’s heart felt like it was full to bursting. “I love you too, Harry. You know you don’t have to keep getting me things. Just you is more than enough.”

Harry smiled. “I know,” he replied. “That’s one of the things I love about you. I want to give you things though. All that money in my vaults means nothing to me. You’re what’s important.”

Ginny blushed, and opened the present. It was a pair of earrings. “They’re beautiful,” Ginny whispered, taking out the earrings she was wearing currently – the sapphire ones Harry had given her last Valentine’s Day – and putting the new ones in. Fourteen carat gold, shaped like a phoenix, with a small topaz stone embedded where the eye would be.

When the new earrings were in her ears, she looked up and gave Harry a kiss, pulling back and showering him with a blinding smile. “Thank you so much, Harry. I love them.”

Harry smiled back. “I love you, Gin.”

“I love you too,” Ginny replied. She then reached down and pulled out a wrapped box of her own. “It’s not as much as your gift, but –”

“I’m sure it’s amazing,” Harry cut her off. “Thank you, Ginny.”

He took the present and unwrapped it. It was a book. Harry looked up, confused. He already owned the seventh year Charms textbook, having received it as a gift from Aunt Minerva for his birthday the summer before. This copy also looked rather worn.

Ginny just smiled. “Open it,” she said softly.

Harry did so, and then felt his breath catch in his throat. There, written on the inside cover, was the name Lily Evans.

He looked back up at Ginny. The fourth year leaned closer, resting her hand over his. “Professor McGonagall helped me a little. She said that a lot of students donate their used textbooks to the library when they graduate, and she was sure your parents did. I spent the last six weeks searching through old books. I was hoping to find a book of your dad’s as well, but no luck. You should really read through it. There’s a lot of handwritten notes in the margins. Your mum was a genius.”

Harry nodded distractedly, and flipped through a few pages. He saw a few recipes written on the pages, instructions for potions he was sure she invented herself; there were a few paragraphs that looked almost like journal entries, some that seemed to be spells she had invented.

His heart thudded painfully as he saw, written over and over again on the back cover, ‘Lily Potter. Mrs. Lily Potter. Mrs. James Potter. Lily Evans Potter,’ and several other variations of the name.

There were tears in his eyes as he thanked Ginny, hugging her tightly, trying to convey everything he was thinking.

Ginny just smiled and returned the hug. She understood.
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Chapter 18
Disclaimer: not mine

As January turned to February, and February to March, Harry and his friends were busier than they could ever remember being. Between classes, homework, the DA, Quidditch practice, and Prefect duties for Harry, Hermione, and Susan, it was a wonder they got any sleep at all.

Slytherin just barely beat Hufflepuff towards the end of the month, and Hufflepuff narrowly won against Ravenclaw in March. All eyes would be on the final match, between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw at the beginning of May. With the way the points stood, as long as Gryffindor won, they would win the Cup.

At Hogwarts, Snape had kept his word, and was treating the Gryffindors, if not well, at least neutrally. It was so different and unexpected that more than one Gryffindor wondered if perhaps the world was coming to an end.

Harry and his friends spent one dreary afternoon at Hagrid’s in late March, interrogating him on his injuries. It had been months, and he yet he still sported recent bruises and cuts. Something was going on, and they wanted to know what it was. Under the scrutiny of the six teenagers, Hagrid broke down and told them about his half brother, Grawp. He had smuggled the giant back with him, and was now hiding him in the forest. He wanted to introduce them, but at least had the presence of mind to know that it wouldn’t be safe for them until he had Grawp a little more trained.

Harry was worried about a Giant taking up residence in the Forbidden Forest, but he couldn’t betray Hagrid’s trust, the same way he hadn’t told anyone about Norbert; the same way he had gone into the Forest his second year because the gamekeeper had told him and Ron to ‘follow the spiders’.

Hagrid promised he was making progress, and hoping to be able to introduce Grawp to outsiders soon.

The Daily Prophet reported many more attacks on muggles and wizards, as well as a few reported Dementor attacks that had many students thankful that Harry had taught them the Patronus Charm. Most of the first and second years hadn’t managed to get more than a thin silvery mist, but almost half the third and fourth years had managed to produce a corporeal form, something that made Harry truly ecstatic. He had produced an animal at thirteen, so he knew it could be done, but then, he wasn’t normal, and he was happy to see how determined and indomitable his fellow students were. They wanted to learn. They wanted to be able to protect themselves.

The DA was doing incredibly well. The meeting time had stayed at two hours, even though there was no more need to include a special portion of time just for Defense lessons. Instead, they had introduced dueling. Not the frumpy, wait until the count of three formal duels that Lockhart had tried and failed at teaching them. Sirius had put forward the lessons he had taught Harry and his friends over the summer: teams of varying numbers would go up against each other, and they would fight with all they had. There was only one rule: nothing lethal. Anything else was fair game.

Everyone loved it.

In animagus training, Neville finally managed to complete the transformation, two weeks before Susan also successfully made the change. She had to work a little harder than the rest of them; it was one thing to transform into an eagle, but flying threw her for a loop for a little while, until she got the hang of it.

Ron had changed both arms into a dog’s, and Hermione had finally had complete success at the wandless levitation; once she mastered that, it was only a matter of time. She was quickly catching up with Ron, managing to change one arm completely with just two days of practice.

Harry and Ginny spent several free Sundays on their own, working on their phoenix form. They had studied the bird as much as possible, but so far, hadn’t managed to make any progress.

Ginny huffed, annoyed. “Maybe there’s something we’re missing. Maybe we can’t actually change into a phoenix at all.”

Harry didn’t say anything. Inside him, he felt something like a fire work its way from his chest out to his arms. He closed his eyes, and concentrated.

Ginny looked over at her boyfriend. “Harry?”

Harry opened his eyes as he felt an almost melting sensation on his arms. He smiled.

Instead of arms, he now sported two black wings. “You were saying?” he asked cheekily.

Ginny huffed again. “Not fair,” she grumbled.

Harry laughed. “Look at the bright side. At least this means we can actually change into phoenixes.”

Ginny shook her head. “How did you do it?”

Harry shrugged, concentrating to turn his arms back to normal. “I felt something almost like a fire in my chest. Before I knew it, wings.”

“Not helpful,” Ginny commented.

Harry chuckled. “Sorry,” he apologized. He then glanced at his watch. “We’re going to have to pick this up later. The others should be here soon.”

Ginny nodded, and stood up. Harry closed his eyes in concentration, and all around them, the room changed to a meadow. They had taken to using this location for their animagus practice, now that the majority of them had mastered their animal forms. Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Susan would spend the time playing, while Hermione and Ron worked on their transformation.

Soon enough, everyone else had arrived, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the open expanse of land. It really was amazing what the room could do, Harry mused as he, Neville, and Ginny played a strange game of tag while Susan watched, flying above them.

An excited shout drew them back to Hermione and Ron shortly before supper. Hermione was beaming, the cat’s arms and legs looking extremely odd on her human torso. Ron congratulated her with a kiss, squashing down the jealousy at her quick progress. He had still not managed to get passed two dog’s arms, but Sirius had told them that, no matter what, their progress was amazing. It had taken him, James, and Pettigrew years to complete the transformation.

XXX

The days and weeks continued to pass, the fifth and seventh years now working late into the night, and most times, the early mornings, as the OWL and NEWT exams loomed even closer.

Meanwhile, a notice had gone up on all the message boards in the house common rooms, listing meeting times for each fifth year to attend career counseling with their Head of House. Pamphlets appeared in the common room, with information for various jobs in the wizarding world. Harry had loaned his book on careers to several friends. He himself didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do with his life; he had more than enough money to survive comfortably without having to work at all, but he suspected he would get rather bored very fast.

Hermione spent hours poring over the information on various careers, going back and forth between at least ten different job possibilities. Neville knew he wanted to go for a Herbology Mastery, while Susan was seriously considering joining the DMLE upon her graduation, and Ron, like Harry, didn’t really have a set idea.

The fifth years all spent a good deal of time reading the pamphlets in the common room, when they weren’t doing homework. The leaflets all made the jobs sound interesting, from ‘have you got what it takes to train security trolls?’ to ‘so you think you’d like to work in muggle relations?’

Harry hadn’t been able to hold in the snort as he’d read that pamphlet over Hermione’s shoulder. ‘A passing grade in muggle studies and a good sense of fun’.

“You need more than a good sense of fun to deal with my uncle,” he commented, drawing Ron, Neville, and Ginny’s attention towards him. “Good sense of when to duck’s more like it.”

Ron and Neville laughed, but Ginny and Hermione looked distinctly upset at the mention of the walrus. Even over a year later, they still weren’t so quick to let the mention of the abuse he had suffered go. Seeing this, Harry rolled his eyes and settled down with a pamphlet on spell crafting.

With the amount of homework they had, the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones had been. The fifth years spent the time digging their way out of the mountain of homework, and looking through the career pamphlets. Of course, Angelina still managed to schedule four practices that week, much to the annoyance of the fifth and seventh years on the starting and reserve teams.

Even with all the work piled on them, Harry and his friends still managed to retreat to the Room of Requirement a few times for animagus practice, for Ron and Hermione, and to just relax for the others. Playing in their animal forms was a good way for them to let go for a little while; even though they maintained their human instincts, thoughts, and memories, life as an animal was simpler. The mind of an animal was less complex than that of a human.

Sunday evening, the night before classes resumed again, Hermione finally had success, as she completed the transformation, joining her friends in cat form. Ron managed to change his arms and legs, and was determined to finish the transformation before the end of the school year.

Monday afternoon, Harry reported to Minerva’s office for his mandatory career counseling session. Minerva greeted him with a smile. “Come on in, Mr. Potter, and take a seat.”

Harry did so, closing the door behind him before heading for the chair set in front of his guardian’s desk.

Minerva waited for him to get settled, before she spoke again. “Now, as you are aware, this session is merely a guide for you, to help you think about what classes you will want to continue with next year. You should also be thinking about possible careers you wish to pursue. Do you have any ideas in mind?”

Harry grimaced lightly. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I was thinking about becoming an Auror, or maybe a Curse Breaker. Or maybe Quidditch? I know I don’t really need to work at all, but I think that would be dreadfully boring.”

Minerva chuckled a little.