Hari ran all the way back to Hogwarts, jogging through the village, pushing past people. He hardly processed anything as he stumbled up the slippery path up to Hogwarts, a one track mind.

He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he overheard. Why hadn’t anyone ever told him? Not Minerva, Remus, Hagrid, Dumbledore, even Mr. Weasley… If they could tell Hari that Black was out to kill him, why couldn’t they tell him he betrayed Hari’s parents? That he was Hari’s godfather?

Ron, Hermione and Draco were awkward and nervous throughout dinner, none of them wanting to talk about what they overheard. Hari kept on catching Pansy, Millicent or Blaise looking sympathetically in his direction, though he could tell they were pretending not to look.

After dinner, Hari sneaked up to the dormitory by himself shortly after they arrived, wanting desperately to be alone. He opened up his bedside cabinet and pulled out the photo album Hagrid made for a present a few years ago and sat down in his bed, looking through the photos of his parents. He recognised Sirius Black in quite a few of them, smiling and laughing with his arm around James or raising a fizzing champagne glass towards the camera with Remus and James. Hari was again confronted by just how different the Black he knew now seemed to the one in these photos. It was like looking at a different person.

While Hari had been staring at the photo from his parents’ wedding, sniffling as hot tears dripped onto the paper, Draco’s black cat Leo hopped up onto Hari’s bed, head butting him. He was a comforting warmth as Hari spiraled over thinking about Black’s betrayal, only the gentle purring, soft fur and the burning in his palm from his fingernails kept him present.

When Ron came in to check on Hari a little while later, Hari had pretended to be asleep, staying silent, hidden behind his closed curtains around the bed. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want anyone, even Draco, here right now. All he wanted was to curl under the covers with his head stuffed under the pillows and pretend that the world around him didn’t exist.

Leo’s head resting on him was the only thing left in Hari’s conscious reality…

¤¤¤

“You look like shit, Hari, no offence.”

It had taken Hari until the sun was starting to rise before he fell asleep, too emotionally exhausted and numb to even have any proper dreams. He tossed and turned the entire night, sending Leo out of the bed sometime after 2 am after being disturbed one too many times.

When he came downstairs that morning, the clock on the wall said it was almost noon and most of the common room was deserted as most people left for the holidays. Ron, Draco and Hermione were the only ones left, sitting in their usual spot by the fire. Ron was sitting on the couch with his feet in Draco’s lap, throwing a mini Quaffle he got from Hogsmeade up and down in the air. Hermione was sitting on the floor with her homework spread out in front of her while Draco was reading one of Hari’s Muggle fiction novels, leaning on Ron’s legs. Ron was the first one to notice Hari’s arrival downstairs, still in his pyjamas.

Hari moved Ron’s legs up to sit between him and Draco, slumping down and staring at the fire in the grate. The snow was piling up on the windowsill outside, making the room slightly dim but for the crackling fire. Leo was curled up in one of the armchairs while Crookshanks sat on the head of the chair, sagging slightly over the side as his tail flicked in the sleeping Leo’s face.

“You really don’t look well, Hari,” said Hermione, looking up from her work.

“I’m fine,” said Hari. “Just tired.”

“Hari, listen,” said Hermione, looking at Ron and Draco. “I know you must be really upset about yesterday. But you can’t do anything reckless or stupid.”

“Such as?”

“Like trying to go after him,” said Ron. “We know how you work, Hari.”

Hari huffed a sigh, looking between his friends. They didn’t understand him at all.

“You know what I can hear whenever those dementors get close?” asked Hari irritably. They shook their heads. “I can hear my mum pleading with Voldemort and then him killing her. I can hear her last seconds of life before she dies screaming and her killer just laughs. You try forgetting the sound of your own mother’s screams like that. Imagine how you’d react if you found out that the one who betrayed your parents is out there again.”

“Hari, there’s nothing you can do!” Hermione said, frantic. “You can’t defeat Black! The dementors will catch him and—”

“You heard what Fudge said, Hermione. They don’t affect Black. He’d just escape again.”

“So what are you saying?” snapped Draco. “You want to kill Sirius fucking Black? The man who blew up a whole street with one spell?”

Hari didn’t know what he wanted to do, in all honesty. All he knew was that he couldn’t live with knowing that Black was still out there, free after betraying his parents.

“Did you know about Black?” Hari asked, turning to Draco. “Your father was in Voldemort’s inner circle, wasn’t he?” He ignored Ron’s protest at using Voldemort’s name.

“My father doesn’t exactly tell me much, does he?” said Draco. “I remember overhearing him telling Mum about Black’s escape when it happened and… and he knew about his betrayal…”

Hari shoved Ron’s legs off him and jumped up. “You knew?!” he shouted in Draco’s face. “You knew and you—you didn’t tell me? You knew Black betrayed my parents and you didn’t even tell me?” Hari’s eyes were burning with angry, frustrated tears. Draco stood up as well, right in front of Hari.

“Because I knew you’d react like this!” he snapped back. “I knew that if I told you, you’d just want to go out there and try to kill Black!” He grabbed Hari’s shoulders. “But you can’t, Hari. It’s what Black wants! You’d only be making it easier to let him fucking kill you!”

“LET HIM!” Hari roared, pushing Draco off him and moving away, startling Leo awake and slipping on one of Hermione’s papers on the floor. “Let him! He betrayed my parents! If I die trying to avenge them—”

“Hari, listen to yourself!” Draco shouted. “Think about your parents! They wouldn’t want you going after Black! They’d want you safe!”

Hari scoffed, pushing Draco away again. “Well, thanks to Black I’ll never know what my parents would have wanted,” he snapped bitterly.

“Hari, please. You’ve got to calm down before you do something to hurt yourself!” said Hermione, nearly in hysterics now.

“Black betrayed my parents, Hermione. I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Hari said, chest heaving up and down and his eyes blurring with tears. He blinked, letting a few tears drop.

“Yes, you can,” said Draco, moving towards Hari again. “You can’t go after him, Hari. None of us wants to see you getting hurt.” He edged closer to Hari, like he was a skittish animal and took his shoulders once again, his hands trembling slightly. “Don’t go after him, Hari. You’ll just break—everyone’s hearts if he kills you.”

For a moment, they were silent. Hari and Draco were staring right at each other, Draco gripping Hari’s shoulder and angry tears rolling down Hari’s cheeks. Hermione and Ron were staring at this exchange, nobody moving a muscle.

Ron was the first to break the silence. “Why don’t we go visit Hagrid? Or see McGonagall?”

“Aye, let’s go see Minerva. I can ask her why she decided to hide the fact that Black betrayed my parents!” said Hari, pulling away from Draco’s grasp again.

Ron looked frantic. Talking about Sirius Black more was clearly the opposite of his plans. Hari ignored Ron’s suggestions of chess or Gobstones and instead made his way towards the dormitory to get dressed quickly. The other three could do little else than go with him.

Dressed hastily, Hari grabbed his cloak, planning to speak to Hagrid afterwards to give him a piece of his mind as well. He led the way out of the portrait hole, ignoring Sir Cadogan’s challenge to a duel, skipping steps as he hurried towards Minerva’s office. Hari knocked on the door rapidly, heart racing once again.

“Come in,” came Minerva’s voice from inside.

Hari pushed the door open a little too hard, feeling his blood racing in his veins. Minerva looked startled, sitting behind her desk.

“Hari? What’s—?”

Hari stepped inside, fists clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked through gritted teeth. Ron, Draco and Hermione stood behind him in the doorway, watching anxiously.

Minerva closed the book she was reading and put it aside, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean?” she asked calmly.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sirius Black betrayed my parents? Why didn’t you tell me he was my godfather? Why?” Hari asked. His voice cracked on the end. Minerva started to speak, but he interrupted her. “I overheard everything. At the Three Broomsticks. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hari was shaking violently, his voice brittle and his breathing heavy. Minerva got up from her seat. She turned to Ron, Hermione and Draco. “Could you three please give us some privacy?” she asked politely. They nodded and Ron reached out to shut the door behind them. “Hari—”

“You knew and you didn’t say anything! Why not?”

Minerva gripped Hari’s shoulders, just like Draco had done before. “Hari, please. Listen to me,” she said. “You’ve got to understand. I wanted to tell you, but… but I didn’t know how to. I knew what it would do—”

“Everyone knows exactly how I react to everything, don’t they?” said Hari bitterly, tears forming in his eyes again. “‘Oh, look at Hari. He’s so emotional. He’s so fragile and weak! Look how he faints when there’s dementors around him!’” Hari sobbed dryly, finally letting out the words that had been ringing in his head for weeks. “Hari Potter may have been the boy who lived but now he’s just the boy he fell to pieces at the first sign of a dementor!”

“Hari, none of that is true. None of it,” said Minerva with certainty. “I know Remus already spoke to you about the dementors and everything he said was true. You are anything but weak, Hari. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

Hari fell into Minerva’s arms, crying against her and squeezing her tightly around the middle. “He betrayed my parents, Minnie,” he cried. “He was their friend and he left them for dead.”

Hari felt something wet land on top of his head. Minerva sniffled. “I know, Hari, I know. It still haunts me to this day,” she said, voice croaky like she suddenly got a cold. “It’s part of why I made Dumbledore let you stay with me. I wanted you to grow up loved, safe. Not in a household that treats you like garbage.” She pulled away and held Hari’s face in trembling hands. “I know you want to, but you cannot go after Sirius Black, Hari. I knew your parents well and they wouldn’t want you to do so. You can’t do that to them or all your friends.”

“But—”

“No,” she said firmly. “Think of all the people in your life, Hari. Sirius Black wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. You can’t give him the satisfaction of going right to him.”

Tears were still running down Hari’s face harder than he ever let himself anymore. He had always tried to hold it in, to be strong for everyone and himself. But he was too tired. He was too tired to keep holding it back. He let himself cry against Minerva, who had taken care of him since he was four, just because she couldn’t stand to see him mistreated anymore. He let her stroke his hair and hold him tightly. He let himself be.

It was the most relief he had ever felt in his life.

¤¤¤

The visit with Minerva had been far from fun for Hari, but had the exact impact Ron, Hermione and Draco wanted. Though Black still stayed in his mind, Hari knew he couldn’t constantly brood or let him get the best of him or he would just burst again. Feeling emotionally exhausted from his meltdown earlier, Hari dragged his friends up to the common room again and collapsed onto the couch again.

Hermione went back to her homework on the floor and Ron sat in one of the armchairs by the fire, flicking through Quidditch Weekly. Hari, meanwhile, was lying across the couch with his head in Draco’s lap, half awake as he watched Hermione study, soothed by Draco running his fingers through his hair.

“You feeling better now, mon ami?” Draco murmured a little while later, leaning down so that only Hari could hear him.

Hari nodded, keeping his eyes shut, too tired to open them but too awake to fall asleep fully. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he whispered. “I know you were just trying to protect me. You’re my knight in complete monochrome white.”

Draco huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes. “You are an idiot, Hari Potter.”

Hari rolled over on his side, burying his face in Draco’s white jumper. “Mmph, but you love me,” he mumbled into the fabric.

“Keep telling yourself that, mate.”

¤¤¤

On the morning of the Winter Solstice, Hari was woken by Ron chucking his pillow at his head.

“Oi! Presents!”

Hari put on his glasses and pushed aside the curtains, letting light into his bed. There was a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. Ron was already tearing open his presents while Draco rubbed his eyes, yawning. Leo was playing with the wrapping paper on the side.

“I’ve got another maroon jumper from Mum,” Ron mumbled, holding up the jumper in question. “See if you two’ve got one.”

Both Hari and Draco had. Mrs. Weasley sent him a scarlet jumper with a gold Gryffindor lion stitched on the front, along with peppermint fudge, caraway cookies and nut brittle. Draco got the same sweets, as well as a navy blue jumper with a golden dragon on the front. Draco looked especially happy at getting presents from home for the first time, opening up a parcel with a couple eagle and peacock feather quills and a white cashmere sleeveless jumper. Draco loved to be spoiled, much to Hari’s amusement.

After opening most of his other presents, Hari found a long, thin package at the very bottom of the pile.

“What is that?” asked Draco, in the middle of opening the fudge he got from Pansy.

“I’m not sure…”

Hari ripped the parcel open and gasped. Lying inside the brown paper wrapping was a shiny new broomstick. A Firebolt. Identical to the photos in his Quidditch magazine and the display window in Diagon Alley, it had a golden registration number on the side and perfect birch twigs as the tail. It gleamed in the low light of the dormitory.

“Who sent it to you?” Ron asked, pushing aside his wrapping paper, stepping over Leo and hurrying over to take a closer look. Draco dropped his fudge and came over as well.

“There isn’t any note,” said Hari, looking through the wrapping paper and checking on the floor in case it fell off by accident. There was nothing.

“Blimey! Do you think it was McGonagall?” asked Ron.

“She already got me a present, though. And she would have left me at least a note…”

“Dumbledore? He gave you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously,” said Draco. “I don’t like that it doesn’t have a note…”

Ron gasped. “What if it was Lupin!” he exclaimed, grabbing Hari’s arm in excitement.

“I’m not sure… I can’t imagine him being able to afford this, honestly.”

The door opened to the dormitory a second later and Hermione traipsed in, wearing a fluffy lilac dressing gown with Crookshanks in her arms, a ball of tinsel wrapped around his neck. He didn’t look happy about the festive wear.

“Don’t bring that in here! It’s bad enough with Leo in here!” Ron snapped, grabbing Scabbers and holding him defensively against him.

Hermione ignored him and put Crookshanks on Seamus’ bed, coming over to look at the broomstick. Her eyes widened at the sight.

“Hari! Who got you that?”

Hari shrugged. “No clue. There wasn’t any note.”

To his surprise, Hermione looked less than pleased. Her face fell and she shared a serious look with Draco. They were always doing that.

“What’s wrong with you two? Aren’t you excited about Hari’s broomstick?” asked Ron exasperatedly.

“It’s a bit odd, don’t you think? Someone buying Hari a broomstick this good without any note?” said Hermione suspiciously. “It’s a really good broom, isn’t it?”

“The best broom there is!” said Ron.

“Exactly. So it’ll be expensive,” said Hermione, looking to Draco for help.

“I think what Hermione is trying to say is that it’s suspicious for someone to buy Hari such an expensive broomstick without any explanation,” said Draco.

Before Ron could protest, Crookshanks made a brave leap for Ron’s chest where he was still holding Scabbers.

“GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” Ron bellowed as Crookshanks ripped his pyjamas and Scabbers made a wild attempt to scuttle away, getting caught by his tail midair.

Ron attempted to kick Crookshanks, accidentally hitting Hari’s trunk and setting off Hari’s Sneakoscope. It whistled and flashed inside Hari’s trunk as Ron hopped up and down, clutching his foot.

After Ron made Hermione shut Crookshanks in her dormitory and Hari silenced his Sneakoscope, they got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, Ron still complaining about Scabbers.

“Look at him!” said Ron angrily to Hari on the stairs, holding up the rat in the air.

He did, in fact, look pretty terrible. His fur was falling out in patches and Hari could see his ribs.

“He looks really sick,” said Hari in agreement.

“It’s the stress of living with that murderous cat demon after him! He’d be fine otherwise!”

Hari decided not to remind Ron about what the lady in Magical Menagerie said about rats his age, nor the fact that he’d been unwell before Crookshanks was around.

The rest of the day was incredibly tense between the four of them. Hermione was furious with Ron about trying to kick Crookshanks while Ron was angry about both Scabbers and Hari’s broomstick, refusing to speak to either Draco or Hermione. Hari decided to keep mostly out of the way of the three-way glaring match, getting a start on his homework instead.

At lunchtime, they went down to the Great Hall once again, finding the tables had been moved to the side, leaving only one long table in the middle. The table was set for only twelve people as only Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick were there, as well as a sullen Slytherin fifth year and a pair of terrified first years. Dumbledore greeted them warmly as they entered, telling them all to take a seat as so few people were at school that break.

Hari sat down so he could separate Ron from Hermione and Draco.

“Dig in!” Dumbledore said spiritedly as the plates along the table filled with the feast.

A little way into the feast, as Hari was politely passing roasted potatoes to Snape a few seats down, Professor Trelawney drifted into the room, looking as dreamy and strange as always, wearing a green sequined dress and trailing a purple shawl behind her. As well as her comically large glasses, she also had a Yule wreath on her head like a crown, slightly crooked and almost falling off her head.

“Sybil! What a surprise! ” said Dumbledore, getting up from his seat.

“I was crystal gazing,” said Trelawney dreamily, “and I saw myself abandoning my usual place and coming to join the festivities… I couldn’t deny the powers of Fate…”

“Yeah, it’s called having an idea,” Hermione muttered sarcastically, making Hari choke on his mouthful of eggnog. Ron patted him on the back as he coughed.

“Why don’t you sit down?” asked Dumbledore kindly, producing a chair out of thin air and putting it between Snape and Minerva.

But Sybil didn’t sit down.

“There will be thirteen if I join,” said Sybil. “And when thirteen dine, the first to get up is the first to die!”

“We’ll risk it, Sybil,” said Minerva impatiently. “The food is getting cold.”

Eventually, Sybil finally sat down hesitantly and everyone continued their eating.

“And where is Professor Lupin?” asked Trelawney, looking up and down the table.

“I am afraid he has taken ill again,” said Dumbledore. “Most unfortunate day for it to happen.”

“Surely you knew that already, Sybil? What with your… gift,” said Minerva skeptically.

Trelawney gave Minerva a cold look. Hermione looked far too excited watching this conversation. “Of course I did! I just try to pretend I do not have the Inner Eye so that others are not so nervous.”

“That explains a lot.”

“If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for long. He seems aware himself—” Hermione choked on her turkey this time “—that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him.”

“I wonder why,” said Minerva hotly.

“I trust you made the potion for him again, Severus?” said Dumbledore loudly, interrupting the growing argument between the two teachers.

“Yes, Headmaster. Of course,” said Snape.

The rest of dinner went largely without any other outbursts or arguments from anyone at the table. Finally, Dumbledore gestured to the clock on the wall, saying it was quite late enough.

Trelawney frantically asked Hari and Ron, who stood up first when they got up to go upstairs, already finished with their dinner.

“I doubt it will make a difference unless there is an axe-wielding lunatic outside the doors right now,” said Minerva irritably. Everyone except Trelawney laughed.

“Coming?” Hari asked Hermione.

“I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall. You three go ahead.”

Ron, Hari and Draco left Hermione and made their way upstairs to the common room.

Hari was in the middle of looking at his Firebolt in the common room with Ron while Draco sat on an armchair with Leo when Hermione finally returned from dinner… along with Professor McGonagall.

“Miss Granger has just informed me you received a Firebolt, Potter. With no note.”

“So?” said Hari, frowning down at the broom and then up at Minerva.

“Let me see it,” she said, already taking the broom from Hari’s hands before he could protest or ask why. Minerva inspected the Firebolt closely, eyes narrowed. She tapped it with her wand a few times, muttering to herself and weighing it over in her hands a few times. “I cannot let you keep this, Hari,” she said finally.

“What?!” exclaimed Hari, crossing his arms on his chest.

“I will have Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch look it over and strip it down to look for any sort of jinxes or charms intended to harm you. If there aren’t any, I will assure that it is returned immediately,” said Minerva, giving Hari a look that told him not to bother arguing.

Ron, however, did not read this look. Instead, he burst out, “But why would someone jinx a broom to hurt Hari?”

“Can you think of no one that intends to have Hari killed, perhaps in a way that could be written off as an accident? For example, falling off his broom again?” said Minerva sharply.

“But—”

“Ron,” said Draco very slowly. “The Black family is an extremely wealthy pure-blood family. I’m half related to them. They have piles of money.”

“So?”

”So, Sirius Black could absolutely afford a broom this expensive!”

“You think Sirius Black bought Hari a broomstick?”

“It would be a perfect chance to kill Hari without anyone suspecting him,” said Minerva as Draco and Hermione nodded in agreement. She turned back to Hari. “I shall keep you updated,” she said.

And then she left the common room, leaving with Hari’s new broomstick in tow.