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The events leading up to Snape in the Slytherin dorm

Finding out your son is alive, a son who has been missing for over a decade, is something that will bring back life into your soul.

Finding out that your missing son has been, despite being unknown, under Severus’ eye and in a year with his cousin at Hogwarts is enough to reassure someone.

Finding out that you have tried to kill your son and he lives in fear of you, well, that is heartbreaking and will fill you with so much regret and despair that you can barely breathe.

Then, finding out your son was almost killed by a madman and werewolf, that is enough to drive you over the edge.

So when Severus walked through his wards at a godforsaken hour and woke Marvolo, only to say those two words, Marvolo had to sit down.

Harry Potter.

They didn’t know how it was possible, but it fit, and Draconis was apparently confident when he told Severus.

And that, that was a whole other situation. After calling Marvolo’s most loyal followers, the shock and regret was quickly followed by confusion, because their children knew . Somehow, they knew, and didn't tell anyone.

“Where is he now?” Marvolo asked Severus with a sigh.

“In his room, with the other boys,” Severus answered.

“Go to him, make sure he is alright,” Marvolo requested.

“Of course,” Severus said, turning to leave.

“Thank you,” Marvolo said sincerely before Severus reached the door, and the man nodded in response, closing the door behind him.

“I cannot believe my brother,” Regulus sighed, dragging his hand down his face.

“He may not be as mad as we thought, given the circumstances. Who would have thought little Peter Pettigrew was still alive? I thought Black killed him as vengeance” Barty said, pondering.

“Regardless of innocence, he broke out of Azkaban, I will make sure the Ministry deals with him,” Lucius said. Marvolo almost laughed. After all, he was about to break out his dear Bella.

“Lucius, I must request one more thing from you. I need you to get guardianship of Damian, as I am not...able. His identity changes things, beyond the obvious complications with being on less than friendly terms. He will be in danger, and safest with you and us. I do not want him returning to the muggles,” Marvolo said, looking at his brother-in-law.

“Gladly, Marvolo. I will make sure it happens immediately,” Lucius said, and once the guests in his office left, he was left to his own thoughts.

How is it that the little boy he loved more than anything was hiding behind Harry Potter? How is it that Damian was praised as the hero of the Light, all while they fooled Marvolo into attacking the boy?

Marvolo had been less than sane, but it didn't excuse his actions. And Damian, oh Damian…

Damian would hate him, and Marvolo would understand. Staying separated from Damian would not stand, though, so Damian would need to adjust. They both needed to adjust.

Severus was with him now, though, and Damian would be okay.

Marvolo almost lost him again tonight, and that was unacceptable. It would not happen again.

-

Back to the present

Harry almost died when he saw the newspaper cover. Fred and George were searching his face for answers.

He had none. Well, he had plenty, just none he wanted to share.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Harry exclaimed, walking over to the Slytherin table once Draco sat down and slamming the newspaper headline on the table.

“Do you mind talking about this somewhere private?” Draco hissed, looking at the numerous heads staring at them. It had been a long time since Harry publicly shouted at Draco, and the students at Hogwarts lived for their fights to entertain them. Well, their fights and the Weasley twins’ numerous pranks.

“No, I’m fine right fucking here, Malfoy ,” Harry said, taking a seat across him and in between Pansy and Theo.

“You’re family , of course my father petitioned for custody,” Draco said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t even know you people!” Harry said, with the same astounded tone he used whenever Draco tried to imply Harry was his family. He didn't even know what his mother looked  like. He knew none of them. 

“Okay Harry, you might not see that we’re family, but we do. My father cares about you and you’ll be safer with us,” Draco tried to argue.

“If he cares, tell him to free Sirius,” Harry deadpanned, staring Draco down. Harry wasn't stupid, Draco had drilled every Hogwarts student's brain with the position and reputation of his father. His father had massive influence in the Ministry, coincidentally where Sirius would be having his final trial. If he could move it up and free him…

“He can’t just-” Draco started.

“Now,” Harry interrupted, for good measure. He wanted Sirius free now. He could see him over Yule, like Sirius promised, and if Lucius Malfoy could make that happen, then Harry was going to abuse every inch of this position he had.

-

And that's how Harry found himself, a week-and-a-half later, boarding the train for 12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London.

If you were to ask Harry how he got into this situation, he would say it was because eventually his bad luck had to run out.

If you were to ask Draco, he would say its because there's been a conniving snake hidden in Gryffindor posing as Harry Potter for two years, and that the conniving snake is making his life very difficult.

If you were to ask Lucius Malfoy how Damian got into this situation, he would say Marvolo told Lucius to make it happen.

If you were to ask Marvolo, he would only say that he would do anything to make Damian trust him again.

If you were to ask Sirius Black, he would look as dumbfounded as a muggle watching a flying car.

But regardless of how anyone felt, Harry was going to a home for Christmas. A real home, a home with family.

Harry felt only slightly bad he was leaving Ron and Hermione alone at Hogwarts, but they knew how much this meant to him.

His arrival at 12 Grimmauld Place was marked by the bark of a dog. A big, black shabby familiar dog.

“Sirius?” Harry asked.

The dog simply barked again, and made his way toward a door that had emerged as the walls of the surrounding townhouses split. 

Harry followed, and as soon as the door shut behind him he was looking at a man again. 

A man who had clearly cleaned up quite a bit, and almost looked posh, if there was a way to describe Sirius Black as posh.

The man had a nice black cardigan on, and hugged Harry almost immediately. Harry was never hugged. Hermione sometimes, sure, and Ron maybe once after they escaped from the spiders last year. Ginny after the Chamber as well, but never someone Harry wouldn’t consider a friend.

Never someone Harry might even consider family.

“I am so glad you came! Come, come, let’s get out of this wretched hallway,” Sirius said, motioning to the dark walls covered in portraits.

They sat down in a nice-looking parlor, and Harry was hesitant to talk. He liked Sirius, at least in the small interactions they had, but Harry hadn’t talked to him about the paper yet. 

The paper declaring Harry under Lucius Malfoy’s custody.

He hadn't talked to anyone about it, and had avoided any prodding by Ron and Hermione.

Harry hoped that Lucius couldn’t find him right now for some weird Christmas dinner. Magic was weird, for all he knew he would wake up with blonde hair in the morning.

Wouldn’t be the first time he woke up looking different, Harry absently thought.

“No one has lived in this house since my mother died, and it’s rather secure. I assure you Voldemort and that wretched blonde pig who fancies himself your guardian can’t find you here,” Sirius said, almost reading Harry’s thoughts.

Harry was always surprised when adults used Voldemort’s name. He felt a brief flash of respect for Sirius, and then curiosity. Draco spoke of Sirius’ brother, his godfather Regulus Black. But Regulus Black wasn't here, so maybe Sirius claimed this property and Regulus didn't step foot in it.

“Do you know how Malfoy got custody of me?” Harry asked, testing the waters. If Sirius knew about his true parenthood, being friends with the Potters, then Harry wanted to know what cards he had left.

If Dumbledore found out…

It’s not that Harry didn’t trust Sirius, the man had done nothing but earn his trust. Harry simply wanted to contain the secret as much as possible.

“No,” Sirius answered, “I figure that the Potters are an old family and so are the Malfoys. You may have a shared great grandfather or two, but you can look in some ancestral texts I have laying around here if you’re curious,” the man finished, looking like he was telling the truth.

Perfect, Harry thought. If Sirius didn’t know then maybe it really was contained.

They talked further, mainly about Harry’s school and childhood- leaving out the bits about the Dursleys and instead telling fun anecdotes like the time he turned his teachers hair blue.

Sirius seemed mesmerized, even by small things. Like how the redhead boy he had dragged under a homicidal tree was a master at chess, or how the smartest student in Harry’s year was a muggleborn. 

Sirius wanted to hear everything, and Harry gladly obliged. Harry’s favorite class is arithmancy, his favorite color rotates between green and blue, and sometimes even red, but never violet because once he watched a girl vomit purple candy into a violet pile of sick and it scarred him ever since. His favorite animal is a specific dragon named Norbert, who tried to set him on fire. How Harry loves these specific sugar quills from Honeydukes, and after Sirius’s prying on how Harry got to Honeydukes, Harry only smiled.

How Harry’s favorite holiday is Christmas because Molly Weasley knits him a sweater each year, and how his favorite place in the whole world is an alcove in the library that looks out over the lake. 

How Harry has an odd obsession with maps ever since he was little, and knows every flag and capital of every country after he had to sit in the geography room at school each day when they lost recess privileges.

How Harry hates fish, absolutely hates it, and how he considers Hogwarts his favorite restaurant- mainly because he’s never been anywhere else, though he left that part out.

How the Sorting hat wanted to put him in Slytherin from the very beginning, but meeting a certain redhead on the train had made him change the hats mind.

Harry left out important secrets or things that Harry didn’t trust Sirius with. He was always good at giving just enough information to make someone ignore his secrets. Sirius seemed content though, and listened and laughed at a few parts.

Just as Harry was explaining his summer in as little detail as possible, excluding the Marge incident- he shared alot of details about her blowing up- he heard a movement to his right.

“Oy! Kreacher! Get out from under there…you conniving little eavesdropper. Go clean!” Sirius yelled at a large ear that was peeking from behind a chair.

“Of course, Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black,” the house elf said, revealing himself and  smiling at Sirius in a way that screamed hatred and the opposite of loyalty.

“Well go on then,” Sirius yelled.

Kreacher, the house elf was apparently named, popped away.

“Sorry about that, nasty little thing. Now, where were we?” Sirius said, smiling at Harry.

-

Regulus Black

Regulus is not afraid to admit that Damian Riddle had Gryffindor tendencies. Only a Gryffindor would be brave enough to single handedly manipulate Lucius Malfoy into giving him what he wanted.

Only, Damian Riddle was far too Slytherin to allow the boy to remain in Gryffindor. The boy had evaded them for months, blackmailed all of their children to aid him in this concealment, and was now spending Yule with Regulus’s brother.

Regulus Black was far older than Damian, though, and had spent far longer in the house of the snakes. That is precisely why when Lucius came to them with Damian’s demands, Regulus made some plans himself to both protect and deceive Marvolo’s son.

Regulus visited his childhood home occasionally, and owned the property. 12 Grimmauld Place, though, was made to look abandoned. 

When Sirius walked through that door, it would look untouched. Sirius would choose that property, as it would be the least likely place for Sirius Black to return to. There were bad memories situated within those walls, and Regulus relied on that.

Regulus relied on Sirius taking ownership, believing Kreacher to be loyal to him as the eldest Black. Regulus relied on Sirius bringing Harry Potter there for the holidays, because then they would know where Damian was.

They were all pleased at the successful outcome, and when Kreacher shared Damian’s anecdotes and likes and dislikes and things about who he was, Regulus saw some light seep back into Marvolo’s eyes,

Marvolo even smiled when he heard about Damian setting a snake on a boy at the zoo. Regulus had to admit he laughed at that as well.

Damian wasn't with them, but they learned more about the boy each day that he stayed with Sirius. Their Christmas dinner may have been missing Damian, but Kreacher was there for Damian, and Kreacher was family, even if Damian didn't know it yet.

So, they let Damian stay with Sirius and Kreacher for the holiday. Even if Regulus hadn’t talked to his brother since Hogwarts, and even if Damian belonged home with them. They would have to adjust. They had to make this easier for Damian.

-

Harry was not having an easy time wrestling his trunk onto the train. He looked back mournfully as the black dog stood near a bench on Platform 9 ¾ and watched him struggle with his bag. Sirius Black was a free man, yes, but it didn't mean people stopped hating him, so he chose to conceal himself following a goodbye after one of the best weeks of Harry’s life.

Harry didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. It was quite funny actually, because before all Harry wanted to do was go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was his home back then.

But now, he was keeping a secret from his two best friends and the only people who knew were backstabbing snakes and somehow Luna, who couldn't help him beyond giving strange advice.

“Let me help you with that,” a voice said, giving the trunk a boost as Harry gave his one last shove and the trunk slid in.

Harry was going to thank them, until he saw who it was.

“Parkinson,” Harry acknowledged.

“Aw Damian, I thought we were friends,” she said with a fake pout.

“Fuck off,” he said, turning away from her and walking towards the nearest entrance to the train.

That was until he saw who was standing right next to the doorway. Narcissa Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Draco Malfoy. Oh how wonderful.

Harry turned back around, only to see Pansy in his way. “Move,” Harry demanded, trying to slip by her.

“Not so fast Damian, your aunt wants to have a conversation with you,” Pansy said, moving to stop him.

“Too bad conversations only work both ways,” Harry retorted with a smile. “I have to get on the train, now move ,” Harry said. He wasn't beyond shoving a girl, not after the numerous times Hermione had pinched him over the years. Her nails were sharp .

“The train isn't leaving for fifteen minutes,” Pansy said, smiling back.

“Harry?” He heard a voice call from behind him.

Harry very, very reluctantly turned around to see his aunt facing him. Draco and Theo had already boarded apparently, and Pansy walked past him to join them.

Narcissa Malfoy approached him. “How were your holidays?” She asked nonchalantly.

Harry stared back suspiciously.

“Fine,” he finally answered.

“I hear you spent Yule with my cousin, Sirius. I hope you had a lovely time,” she said, almost sincerely if Harry didn't know any better.

Harry didn't respond.

“I have Christmas gifts for you,” Narcissa said, reaching into her purse for a small moleskin bag that fit quite a more than could be seen from the outside.

“It’s not going to be a portkey that sends me to your dungeon, is it?” Harry warily asked, not yet reaching for the bag.

“I’m afraid not sweetheart, simply gifts to make up for the years we lost you,” Narcissa said, offering the bag again.

Harry didn't quite know what to say to that, so he didn't. He simply took the pouch and shoved it in the pocket of his sweatshirt, wanting very desperately to board the train.

“Harry…” Narcissa very cautiously started. “I want to make you aware of your summer accommodations- to give you some warning.  You must understand we cannot allow you to stay at Privet Drive,” she said, watching him carefully.

Harry stopped breathing for a second. He knew that they likely knew where he lived, but that didn't make it sound any better. Voldemort knew where he lived. What the fuck.

Narcissa continued, even if she could tell Harry was actively panicking. “We hope that you will agree to join us for the summer, as you cannot be permitted to stay with the muggles or Sirius Black,” she said, as if she wasn’t backing him into a corner.

Harry took a moment to respond, and when he did, it was one question. “Who is we?”

“I think you know the answer to that question, Damian,” Narcissa said.

Harry wondered how this looked to the people on the train right now. Harry was Harry Potter standing in a sweatshirt, jeans, and trainers next to one of the most wealthy and pureblood witches alive. She was collected, and he was visibly freaking the fuck out.

“Damian?” Narcissa questioned.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, unconsciously lifting a hand to rub his scar. It didn't hurt, it hadn’t hurt in a long time, but it was a habit. Narcissa’s eyes tracked the movement.

“Harry,” she corrected. “I must ask something of you.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that. She was making demands of him ?

“I hope you will forgive Draco and the others for revealing your secret. Their only goal was to protect you from the danger they assumed you were in,” Narcissa said. “I hope you can continue to be friends.”

“We were never friends,” Harry said quickly. “If that’s all, I really have to board the train.”

He was done with this conversation.

Narcissa looked like she wanted to say something, but he didn't really give her the chance. He quickly boarded the train, avoiding all eyes staring at him, and found an empty compartment.

He had the upper hand. They laid out their cards, they thought he would be spending the summer with them. He knew he wouldn't be. He just had to work with that.

-

The pouch Narcissa Malfoy gave Harry was never ending. Harry just kept pulling out more and more presents, and they covered the floor of their small couch area in the dorm.

Harry pulled out a letter, with Damian elegantly written on the front.

Harry promptly tossed it into the fireplace, and proceeded to do that with every other card inside. There were over a dozen, and they provided great fuel for the fire.

Theo watched this all from the couch opposite with a judgmental look in his eye.

“What? You want them?” Harry asked.

“It doesn't hurt to read them,” Blaise drawled from his other side.

“Ignorance is bliss,” Harry said, smiling back.

After the feast Harry had retreated back to the dorm and decided he wouldn't continue the silent treatment of the other boys. It was far too boring, especially when he could annoy them.

Harry spotted another card and made eye contact with Blaise as he ripped it in half, throwing the remnants into the fireplace.

“You cannot ghost the Dark Lord, no matter how hard you try,” Draco said.

Harry ignored him, grabbing a present from the floor once the bag was empty and shaking it next to his ear, like he had seen Dudley do every year.

“You’re ridiculous, just open it,” Draco said.

Harry glared at the blonde, tossing the present at him. “You open it,” he said, reaching for another one.

Draco sighed and tore it open, revealing a set of new quidditch gloves Harry was sure cost more than Ron, Fred, and George’s quidditch gear put together.

And that made him feel guilty, because why was he opening presents from wealthy people who look down on everyone Harry loved?

“Those are incredible,” Greg said from next to Draco, looking at the gloves.

“Keep them,” Harry offhandedly said.

This was how the rest of the present opening went. There were dozens of them, and Harry didn't open a single one. He simply watched as he made the others open them for him.

Everything from quidditch banners to potion sets (likely from Snape) to a firebolt and dragonhide boots. High quality clothes in green and blue, texts on arithmancy, and some texts on dark arts that Harry was sure would be on the list of banned texts at Hogwarts. Harry had already received a new firebolt from Sirius for Christmas, but if he hadn't then he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist that present. There were even sugar quills, which Harry snatched. How did they know he loved them?

“Harry, I think you should open this one,” Theo said, tossing the final box to him.

“Why?” Harry yawned.

“it’s from your father,” Theo replied.

“Don’t call him that,” Harry said, tossing the present to the side.

Later that night, after the boys had gone to sleep and Harry sat in the window, he looked back and spotted the only unopened present on the floor.

He had resolved not to open it hours prior, but he was curious. Curiosity had gotten him into a lot of difficult situations, but he couldn't help himself.

No one would know, the others were all asleep.

So, Harry got the present and retreated back to his window seat.

The tag on the present was to Harry, and it said from Marvolo. Harry didn't particularly like that name. It was a little too human.

He tore it open, and stared down at the contents.

The first thing he noticed was a weathered book. When he opened it and flipped through the pages, he noticed that it wasn't in English. Harry read it like ENglish, but he was almost sure it was parseltongue. The pages consisted of notes in classes like arithmancy and potions, and he knew it belonged to Voldemort.

With a chill Harry closed the book and put it down. The next item was a map that he had never seen before. Harry assumed one existed, yes, but he had never seen one, not even in History of Magic. It was a world map of all wizarding settlements and areas, and Harry traced his eyes to Diagon Alley and then Hogsmeade. Hogwarts wasn't on the map, but he knew where it was and placed his finger there. He wanted to keep this present, so he folded it and shoved the parchment into his pocket.

The last item was perplexing. It was a compass, just like any compass, but there was a red dot glowing at around 15 degrees Northeast. As Harry picked up the compass and rotated it a bit, the compass headed to Northwest.

Harry knew at that moment that, if he were to follow this compass, it would take him to Voldemort. Harry placed it down, knowing that he would never be using this compass.

Even so, he found himself tossing all three items into his trunk. Even if the notebook was weird, it could help Ron learn parseltongue like he wanted to. Well, Harry would have to explain how he got the book, but it was an idea for the future. Harry wasn't sure why he kept the compass, but he didn't care for analyzing his reasoning.

All he had to do was get through the next few months. 

-

Hermione Granger

Harry had not been making it through the last few months of school, and Hermione wanted to know why.

Hermione was an intelligent witch, and she usually knew what was happening. She liked controlling situations. Harry as of late was something she could not understand. He was clearly having anxiety as the year came to a close, and she pondered this as she shot Harry a look across the train compartment. They were on their way home for the year, and Harry hadn't been complaining about the Dursleys so Hermione assumed he was staying with Sirius. She hadn't asked, thought, Harry hadn't been up for conversation lately.

“You know you're both invited to the Burrow any time. “Mum insists,” Ron said, chewing with his mouth open. 

“Thanks Ron,” Harry almost whispered back, staring down at his hands.

“Harry, I’m done,” Hermione suddenly said in the most commanding voice she could muster, and she looked at Harry expectantly.

“What?” Harry dumbly asked.

“Is this about him acting like a right lunatic?” Ron asked Hermione.

“Oy! I’m sitting right here,” Harry defended.

“Harry James Potter, you have been keeping something from us for a while now and I think it's high time you share. You know us well enough to know we won't tell anyone even if you say you've killed fifteen people, so spit it out,” Hermione said, staring him down.

Harry sighed, seemingly having an internal battle, before getting up, shutting the curtains, and locking the compartment door.

“How bad?” Hermione asked.

“Bad,” Harry said.

“Voldemort on Quirrell’s head bad?” Ron whispered.

“Worse,” Harry said, looking very depressed.

“Harry, just tell us,” Hermione insisted. “We’ll try to help, I promise.”

“Well, to start off, my name’s not Harry Potter,” the brunette started.

Things went downhill from there, and by the end of it Ron had halted eating and the train ride was almost over as they both gaped at the boy who had discarded his necklace and now scarily resembled, according to Harry, the boy from the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Marvolo Riddle himself.

Harry had told them about his summer and year, and Hermione wanted to cry. Harry had been going through all of this alone .

Hermione didn't even blame him for not telling them, which she made sure to tell him, because if this got out.it would be…disastrous.

“Harry, you can't go to them for the summer. I’ll sneak you to the Burrow,” Ron tried to say.

“Honestly Ron, we both know that if Voldemort himself is Harry’s father he will end up with them for the summer sooner rather than later. It’s best he goes willingly, sorry Harry, its just the truth,” Hermione said, regretfully looking at Harry.

“Yeah I know,” Harry said, pinching his eyes shut.

“Who would've thought,” Ron laughed. “You’re Draco’s cousin, what a mental idea,” he said.

Hermione elbowed Ron. “Seriously? That's what you got from this conversation?” She asked incredulously.

“I mean, and no offense to Harry, but it makes sense. Think about it, Harry speaks parseltongue. Who else do we know that speaks parseltongue? Oh, I know, our very own Dark Lord,” Ron said, elbowing Hermione back.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Hermione asked, eyeing him with concern.

“No, but I will be,” Harry sighed.

“So will you go with them?” Ron asked.

“I don't think I have much of a choice,” Harry said resignedly, looking back to stare out the window.

“You said they love you, they want you in their family. You can use that, Harry.” Hermione said.

“Yeah mate, give them hell,” Ron added, which earned a smile from Harry.

“I’ll find a way to owl you,” Harry promised.

“If anyone fucks with you, you slip under that invisibility cloak and run. Swear to me,” Ron said.

“I solemnly swear,” Harry said.