When Patterns Are Broken

"Phineas, I'd like to have a word."

The portrait crossed his arms, still upset at being blindfolded.

"Please?"

Phineas remained silent.

"Fine, I'll remove the blindfold. It's not like there's anything to see."

"How gracious of you," Phineas said, blinking at Harry. "And you will address me as Professor Black."

"Yes, uncle."

"Professor Black!"

"Walburga lets me call her grandmother," Harry said slyly. "And I am Sirius' heir. Arcturus named me in his will."

Phineas narrowed his eyes at him. Harry knew he was giving a lot away, but also that Phineas had already guessed Harry had access to a Black property, even if he couldn't know which one.

"Will you take the Black name?" Phineas asked.

"I haven't thought about it,” Harry said lightly. “I'm also the last Potter, and my boyfriend is the last of his name. We're a little young, and there's a war going on…"

Phineas scoffed at him. "A boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he's brilliant."

"Is it that Nott boy?"

"Right, you were in the headmaster's office that night."

"I'm always in the headmaster's office, you simple boy!"

"Yes, Professor Black," Harry said.

"Impertinent child!"

"You knew that before you decided to visit," Harry pointed out. "I wanted to know if McGonagall's let the muggleborn students know to go into hiding, or used the school owls to tell people about the Taboo. It's the largest flock outside of the Ministry."

"I don't see why I should tell you that!"

"It's a way to keep students safe. Riddle killed a lot of magical people, and more are going to die. The school has a duty to protect the next generation. You took on that duty when you decided to play dress-up as headmaster."

"For the last time, it was not a lark!"

As Phineas stormed out of his frame, Harry shouted, "Prove it then!"

He conjured a curtain over the vacated frame and walked to his simmering cauldron. He hadn't gotten much of Nagini's venom from the healer, and he didn't know where to begin to create more of it. He had tried to increase the amount, but something in the nature of the venom made magical manipulation difficult. Riddle likely designed it himself, as he had with the cave potion. It struck Harry how Dumbledore hadn't recognized the potion, how much difficulty a healer who specialized in magical bite wounds had in countering the venom.

With a final stir, Harry put out the fire and let the antivenin cool. He had caught a rat outside, summoning it from the sewers. Harry immobilized the squeaking animal, dipped a thin needle into the venom sample, and stabbed it into the rat. He released the spell.

The small wound bled, far more than it should. The rat's squeaks grew more frantic, and it began writhing in pain. Having seen enough, Harry immobilized the rat again and, with a small spoon, he tipped the antidote potion into its mouth.

The rat settled down, and Harry healed its small wound. Harry sat down on a stool, heaving a sigh of relief.

It worked. It had taken hours of intense brewing, hard to come by ingredients, all for such a small amount…but it worked.

Harry stood up to bottle the rest, thinking over who might need it most.

Harry laid on his back in the garden, staring up at the summer sky. It was clear and hot. The dementors had gone somewhere else to breed that summer. 

Overhead a crow, or a raven, practiced his flying. Harry followed the shadow his wings cut through the air, a midnight black that reminded him of Theo's hair. His brow furrowed. He had seen that same shape before.

The bird landed next to him, hopping through the dry grass that no amount of watering would revive.

"It's hot."

The bird pecked at his cheek.

"Stop that!"

The bird turned into Theo, who kissed his cheek instead.

"You're mean."

"Have you finished thinking yet?"

Harry mumbled something, shielding his eyes against the sun. A dark shadow fell over him, and he turned to look at a looming Theo.

"I've thought about it, but there is so much we don't know about his life. Dumbledore thought he hid his horcruxes in places that mattered to him. The Gaunt shack, Hogwarts, a cave he visited as a child. Albania, where he fled. Borgin and Burkes. Riddle Manor. The graveyard. The Chamber of Secrets. The Slytherin common room. He gave one to Lucius Malfoy, or his father, a trusted Death Eater. It is possible he left the Cup with another one, but Lucius Malfoy failed and the diary was destroyed. Would he have left the Cup with another? Moved it to some other location he set traps in? Maybe the location isn't a trend, but a coincidence."

"Godric's Hollow," Theo added. "The place he perished."

"We need some of Filch's dark detectors if we're walking the earth to find this thing."

“Filch’s Secrecy Sensor does just that, detects secrets,” Theo said. “Lies. I don’t know what kind of device would detect part of a soul.”

“A dementor?”

“They’re all on Riddle’s side now. We have nothing to offer them that we’d like to give.”

Harry sighed and sat up. “The orphanage would be the closest. I don’t think we’ve had any working orphanages for a while, I doubt we could look it up that easily. The memories I saw were during the Blitz, that’s when London got bombed. A lot of buildings were destroyed. I do remember some of the orphans’ names. Billy Stubbs. Amy Benson. They’d be in their 80s now, that’s old for a muggle. If they survived the war.”

“How would we find the orphanage?”

“Ask Dumbledore,” Harry said bitterly. “Couldn’t have left a note, could he?”

As it so happened, searching library records for references to Wool’s Orphanage was easy with magic. 

Harry and Theo stood in the August heat, their lives sustained only by cooling charms, looking up at an office tower indistinguishable from its neighbors. 

“They keep orphans in there?” Theo asked. 

“No, they usually live with a few other children without families, or who can’t live with their families anymore, in a house with an adult supervising them. When Riddle was in one, there were dozens of children looked over by a few adults, sort of like a dormitory. This is a building where people do business.”

“What kind of business?”

Harry had no idea. “My uncle works in one. He does something with drills. Muggle tools that make holes in things. I think he sells them to other businesses."

Theo frowned at the building. The ugly, boxy steel, the rows of windows glaring in the sunlight. "Riddle would hate this. It represents muggle domination over the land. Even if he buried the Cup here, he would have removed it."

"He hid the ring in the Gaunt shack," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but that shack had history. The end of Slytherin. Purebloods who purified their blood to extinction. Where his mother was born and raised. Where parseltongue was the only language spoken. There is nothing magical to revere here, nor at an orphanage he hated."

"It lacks a certain gravitas," Harry agreed. "That doesn't diminish the importance of the orphanage, the place that first shaped Tom Riddle."

"Hence the cave," Theo said. "We should leave. There's a woman wearing a badge approaching us."

"A security guard," Harry said, seeing the woman leave her desk in the lobby. "Let's go."

Harry was just about to enjoy a spoonful of French onion soup when Winky appeared at his side. The spoon fell into his bowl with a splash and clatter. 

“Winky’s surveillance is complete, Master Harry!” she chirped. 

"That's great news, Winky," Harry said, glad his glasses were spelled impervious. "What can you tell us?"

Winky explained that Dolores Umbridge was the head of the Muggleborn Registration Commission. Muggleborns were forced to fill out a questionnaire about their heritage. Muggleborns who did not respond to Ministry summons would be searched for and arrested. After being sentenced, they would be released without their wands or placed in Azkaban.

Corban Yaxley, one of the Death Eaters who had been on the Astronomy Tower, interrogated muggleborns and was current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Albert Runcorn investigated muggleborns, rooting out falsified family trees. A man named Travers was also involved, but Winky wasn't sure how.

"Yaxley and Travers are both Death Eaters," Sirius said, with Theo humming in agreement. "They will be harder to Imperius."

Harry grimaced, then said, "It depends on how we frame it. Let muggleborns run, it's more exciting to hunt them down."

"Maybe," Sirius said doubtfully. "Umbridge and Runcorn would be easier targets."

"Are there house-elves in the Ministry? There must be. Cleaning, food, tea..."

Winky nodded eagerly. "Winky was not seen by them!"

"What are you thinking?" Theo asked.

"Pranks. Fred and George make different sweets that cause temporary illnesses. Puking Pastilles, Fainting Fancies. We've got a glumbumble hive out back, we could mix their treacle in with honey at the Ministry. It'd be easier to plant those things with house-elves on our side."

"The house-elves are loyal to the Ministry," Winky said.

Harry rubbed his face. "I don't want to Imperius an innocent house-elf. And Winky, you're known by the Ministry. We're counting on the fact that witches and wizards don't acknowledge or recognize individual house-elves…"

"We could talk to Arthur about it," Sirius said. "Percy? He can't be happy with what's going on."

"I'm not sure about that," Harry said. "No one really knows what Percy thinks. How's Privet Drive coming along?"

Sirius grinned. "I've expanded one of the bedrooms so far, transfigured beds. Remus set up the protection spells on the property. No one will be able to detect anything inside, not even smell, and we'll know as soon as someone starts casting at the house. We've also been working with Mrs. Figg. She can house some people, if they can stand the smell of cats and cabbage."

"I did," Harry said. "I don't know how many afternoons I spent there." He was still upset with Mrs. Figg keeping so many things from him, but not many people could stand up to Albus Dumbledore. "Winky, were you able to follow Umbridge or Runcorn home?"

Winky shook her head. "Winky saw them using the floo. Only the important people use the floo, everyone else flushes in. There are also coins they use to get in. No more apparition in the Ministry."

"Except for house-elves," Harry said with a smile.

"If they floo directly home, it could take us a while to discover where they live," Theo said.

"Winky knows where they live! Winky found papers!"

Winky produced several folders. Harry took them from her, and discovered detailed information on both Umbridge and Runcorn. Interestingly, Umbridge had not filled out her own ancestry.

"This is amazing, Winky. Excellent work!"

Harry passed the folders around.

"The next question is, how do we get into their homes?" Sirius said.

"I think you're forgetting something," Harry said, grinning. "House-elves aren't the only thing witches and wizards forget to protect against."

A dog, a fox, and a crow walked into a garden. The garden was strictly regimented, roses in ordered rows, pruned severely, a right-angled hedge. The cottage before them was light pink with white trim. Very tidy and proper. 

The fox looked for a cat flap, but there were no signs of any actual cats around the house. Too messy. The crow flew to a window and pecked at a latch. The dog pushed open the window and they all clambered inside.

There was more pink.

They crept through a kitchen that had never been used, a living room that looked painful to sit in, and into a bedroom where a woman slept, oblivious. The walls meowed plaintively at them.

The crow turned into a young man who raised a wand to the woman and petrified her.

This same scene repeated itself at another house that night.

Harry and Theo left Sirius to work on Runcorn. They had restrained Umbridge in the room Rowle had once occupied. Rowle was gone.

"Good morning, professor," Harry said politely. 

"Release me, you filthy halfblood!"

"You're supposed to reply, 'Good morning, Mr. Potter.'"

Umbridge struggled against her restraints. Rope, as she had used to lasso a centaur.

"The Minister—"

"The Minister is under Imperius, by the Dark Lord," Theo said. "You don't care about that, though."

"You belong in Azkaban," Harry said over her recriminations. "Not the innocent muggleborns you're sending there."

"Lies! Thieving mudbloods!"

"You must not tell lies, professor," Harry chastised. "Maybe crucio will loosen your tongue?"

"Theodore Nott! I remember you! Such an obedient student. What has Potter done to you?"

"Are you sure you want the details?"

"Theo!"

Theo's lips twitched. He said to Umbridge, "Your kind would call me a blood-traitor. Crucio."

Harry silenced her as she began screaming. "Theo."

Theo ended the spell, watching the older woman as she involuntarily twitched, drool trickling down her jaw.

"I'm going to tell you what we will do to you, and then I'm going to do it," Harry said.

Umbridge stared at him, eyes white with terror, understanding the reality of her situation.

"You will be placed under Imperius. You will sentence all convicted muggleborns to Azkaban. You will confiscate their wands to redistribute to witches and wizards of purer blood. You will place these wands in an unlocked drawer in your office and forget about them. You will not question any decisions which Albert Runcorn makes. You will praise his dedication and diligence when he exposes a muggleborn. Other than this, you will continue acting as you please."

Umbridge was confused by these instructions. Harry was not inclined to enlighten her.

"Do you understand? Excellent. Crucio."

Harry looked through the list of muggleborns the ministry wanted for interrogation. It was surreal seeing Hermione’s name in the Daily Prophet. He hadn’t heard from either her or Ron. He didn’t know if he ever would again. He hoped they stayed hidden with Ron’s pureblood aunt. 

“Mafalda Hopkirk,” he said, apropos of nothing. 

“Your mortal enemy?” Sirius asked. “What about her?”

“We should get her too. She’s an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. She sends warnings for underage magic use. That means she has access to who gets picked up by the Trace. They can use that to find underage muggleborns.”

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright. Winky and I will take care of her. Any other Ministry employees to suborn today?”

“Let me check my schedule,” Harry said, spotting Dean’s name too. 

Harry folded the paper and set it down, then started the climb to the stablery to look at the winged creatures of Grimmauld Place. 

Hedwig flew to him immediately, and he held out an arm for her. “I’m sorry, there isn’t much to do lately. They’re tracking owls.” 

She nipped his hair affectionately, understanding.

“You can fly to Nott Manor,” he said, tapping the band Theo had made for her. “There aren’t any other magical humans living on Fair Isle, we checked. Only about fifty muggles, all on the south side, and sometimes tourists. There isn’t much to hunt for a snowy owl in London.”

Harry didn’t bother convincing Penumbra to go. She did what she wanted, and tilted her dark face to look at him critically. 

Buckbeak was harder to deal with. He was content to hunt gnomes in the garden, but a house was very confining for a hippogriff. Unlike the owls, he couldn’t pass for anything other than a magical creature. Harry bowed to him, letting Hedwig fly back to her perch, and waited for Buckbeak to bow back. Harry knew Hagrid could take care of him, the issue was how to smuggle a hippogriff into Scotland. Harry patted his beak while he thought it over. He wasn’t sure he could get Buckbeak onto school grounds. He would have more space to roam around Nott Manor. Maybe they could get a second hippogriff…

Fawkes cried out, drawing his attention. “I’ll talk to you later, Buckbeak.”

Harry stood in front of Fawkes, who the owls deigned to tolerate, and gave the phoenix a serious look. 

“Are the flames really necessary when you do your phoenix apparating thing?”

Fawkes sang something Harry couldn’t interpret, but it felt like a yes. 

“Good thing dementors can’t see. You’ll be playing a rogue phoenix. Do what it takes to convince them to go with you. I’ve written letters, but the dementors—” 

Harry paused, a new idea forming. He needed to get to the potions lab. “I’ll make something that could help. I’ll leave the letters up here for you to take with. It will explain things, since not many people speak phoenix.”

Fawkes looked at him with opaque black eyes. Harry crossed his arms. “They’ll understand how you feel, but not the specifics.”

He left the birds to it and hurried back downstairs, almost crashing into Theo. 

“Are you ready?” Theo asked, looking him over. “You have a feather in your hair,” he said, plucking it out. It was a golden down feather that smoldered into ash in Theo’s fingers.

Harry checked his watch. “I had an idea for counteracting the dementor’s influence with a potion, at least long enough for them to accept a phoenix is there to break them out, but I can brew it when we get back.”

“Do you have your cloak?”

“Yes, Theo, I have my cloak. I don’t want the Ministry to raid them.”

Theo pressed their foreheads together and said, “I was just checking. It’s safer for me than you.”

Diagon Alley was struggling in its attempt at normalcy. There were more people out than during Harry’s visit to Flourish and Blotts, and it wasn’t as dreary as the previous summer, but people were still harried, pretending not to be. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was the aggressive exception to this, though the U-No-Poo sign was no longer flashing in the window. 

Theo held the door open a split second longer to let Harry in, and carved a way through the kids and very, very patiently waiting parents. Harry noticed people shied away from Theo, though he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t look or act any different than usual.

Theo walked to the counter and the blonde girl at the register—Verity, Harry thought—was…antagonistic. 

“Can I help you?” she asked, chewing her gum furiously. 

“I need to speak with one of them. Weasley or Weasley, it doesn’t matter. They are interchangeable to me.”

She snapped her gum. Harry poked Theo’s side.

“Nott, is that you?” George asked, coming out from the back. George glanced around. “We’ve got your order ready, come on back.”

Theo didn’t spare Verity any more thought and followed George. 

“What are you doing here?” George asked in a low voice. “Is…your boyfriend with you?”

“I am,” Harry said, taking off his cloak. “Is Fred around? We wanted to talk to you two about something.”

“I’m here,” Fred called out, emerging from behind some boxes. “What’s going on?”

Harry cast a silencing charm. “The spell’s muffliato, makes it sound like buzzing to people. We’d like for you to invent a new item that will make a lot of Ministry employees sick.”

Fred and George looked at each other. 

“Not permanently sick, but enough to disrupt the work they’re doing. Something that makes them think there’s a contagion. Does that make sense? We thought of leaving Fever Fudge in a staff room or something, but your products are too well known. Which is a good thing, except when you’re trying to destabilize a puppet government via biological warfare.”

“We could come up with something,” Fred said slowly. 

“Great! Have you talked to Percy lately?”

“No,” both twins said.

“He’s probably regretting—”

“We heard what happened with Ron and Hermione,” George said. 

“Did you? What did they say?”

The twins looked at each other again. 

“Not much,” George said.

“They didn’t want to talk.”

“Whatever it was upset them.”

“Ron said they don’t really know you.”

Harry sighed. “I thought as much. Well, I can’t say what happened either. A lot of things have changed.”

“And we should go,” Theo said, checking Harry’s watch.

“Winky?”

Winky popped in and curtsied. Fred and George gawked at her. 

“Winky will be our go-between, if you’re interested. We’re ready to leave,” Harry said to her.

“We’re still your friends,” Fred said hastily. “Even if Ron isn’t.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling. “See you two around.”

Severus Snape Confirmed 

as Hogwarts Headmaster

Harry started laughing. 

“This will make a lot of people unhappy,” Sirius said, pulling the Daily Prophet towards him. “Of course, not many would believe your theory that Dumbledore orchestrated his own murder.”

“Only people who are blinded by his legacy,” Theo said. “Even Skeeter’s book barely scratches the surface. She states facts and fails in her deductions, as usual.”

“She didn’t have the bollocks to get the facts straight from the dark lord’s mouth,” Harry said, wiping his eyes. “Who’s the Defense teacher?”

“Amycus Carrow. Alecto Carrow’s Muggle Studies.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” Harry said, sobering. “Are they going to teach dark arts instead? Do they even know enough magic for that?”

“No, they don’t,” Theo said. “Snape won’t be able to interfere, not without drawing ire from Riddle. Nor will the other professors for fear of being replaced by Death Eaters.”

“Neville and Luna will both be able to contact me,” Harry said. “They’ll keep us updated on what’s happening. I bet Phineas will love Snape as headmaster.”

“I could go back,” Theo said quietly.

“No!” Harry said, alarmed. 

“It might be suspicious if I don’t. We’d have to come up with a good reason for Father to keep me home. A reason good enough for Riddle.”

“He’s not even in the country!”

“I would rather lose whatever advantage we get with your father than put you in a vulnerable position,” Sirius said. “Draco’s already got the mark, I bet his little friends do too. They’ll be going along with whatever the Carrows are up to, I’d wager.”

“Maybe not Malfoy,” Harry said. “He doesn’t have the stomach for being a Death Eater.”

“They’ll question you about Harry,” Sirius added. “Your loyalty.”

“It was just a thought,” Theo said. 

“Stop thinking it!”

Theo threaded their fingers together. “As you wish.”

Harry beamed at him. “Did I tell you how everyone got weird around Theo at the twins’ store?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

“Like they were afraid of him,” Harry said, frowning. “He wasn’t acting any different.”

Sirius laughed at him. 

“What? What did I say?”

“Have you met Theo?” Sirius said, waving at the quiet young man in question. “Look at him!”

Harry looked at Theo. He was tall, but he had always been tall. Black hair, blacker eyes that pierced Harry with their intensity, pale, wearing black as usual, waves of dark, arcane magic rolling off of him in a suffocating miasma that threatened the very nature of reality by its presence alone, silent as the grave. 

“I don’t get it.”

"The train's leaving about now," Harry said idly. He was in his bedroom with Theo. He had been reading something, he couldn't remember what. Sirius was off with Remus, settling in muggleborns they had taken from Azkaban at Privet Drive. Winky was at the Ministry, recovering wands from Umbridge's desk. They had money to send people abroad if they wanted it. People who weren't muggle-raised rarely understood muggle transportation. They wouldn't check train stations or docks or airports, not at first.

"Is it weird to not be on it?" Theo asked.

"A bit," Harry admitted, rubbing his forehead. "I used to dream about going to Durmstrang with you. We could do whatever magic we wanted, spend as much time together as we wanted…"

"That's a nice dream," Theo said. "I'd rather make it a reality."

Harry smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. "We could check Godric's Hollow today," he said, "though I think I would have noticed—"

“Give it to me, Gregorovitch.”

A old man, with white hair and beard, hung upside down, blood rushing to his face.

“I have it not, I have it no more! It was, many years ago, stolen from me!”

“Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows. He always knows.”

The old man's eyes were wide, and he fell into them, into a hallway, chasing him into a room, a handsome young man with golden hair perched on the window ledge, laughing as he jumped into the night.

“Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?” 

“I do not know, I never know, a young man…no…please! Please!”

The old man screamed, and screamed, until a flash of green light silenced him forever.

"Harry," Theo said, kissing his face. "Your scar." Theo brushed cold fingers over it, and Harry leaned into the touch.

"Gregorovitch is dead," Harry said. "He found him. He saw who took the Elder Wand from him. I knew he must have stolen it or something…"

"Does Riddle know who he is?"

"If he cracked open a recent best seller he would," Harry said dismissively. "He's a fool…I kind of want strawberry fool."

"Kreacher can make you some," Theo said quickly. "I'll make it. I'll learn how. It can't be that difficult." 

"I'm fine," Harry said, holding him tighter. "He doesn't know he's giving himself away. Constantly underestimating me…"

"Did you still want to go to Godric's Hollow?"

"No," Harry said. "I've got to warn him."

When Harry finished climbing the tower, Kreacher holding his hand and muttering imprecations, Grindelwald was waiting for him.

"You already know," Harry said. "You're a seer, right?"

"You have some small ability yourself," Grindelwald said.

"I'm just observant," Harry replied, sitting down. "You must have known someone would pick up the trail."

"You did," Grindelwald said, smiling.

"In a sense. Riddle thinks too highly of himself. It's how he survived his childhood. You did, too. Both of you see muggles as less than, ignoring that their rate of technological progress far outstrips magical innovation. You've played your role in stagnating our culture, as Riddle has."

Grindelwald chuckled. "You don't need to remind me of my mistakes. I've thought about it for decades."

"I bet Riddle doesn't even know what a satellite is," Harry said. "He was a child during World War II. He thinks nuclear warfare is the epitome of muggle advancement. Like many magical people, he forsook logic for magic. As did you. As did Dumbledore."

Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. "Not you?"

"You three all accumulated power, in different ways. Recruited your followers at a young, malleable age. Handsome. Charismatic. Infatuated with yourselves. In a word, narcissistic. While Dumbledore was pro-muggle, like almost all pro-muggle witches and wizards he was rather paternalistic about it. He didn't scruple to use magic to manipulate muggles, to make them act in ways he preferred. The matron at Tom Riddle's orphanage. My muggle relatives. It's the same way muggles treat people from cultures they view as less advanced. Inferior. It's for their own good isn't that far away from for the greater good. Not that any of you have any special insight as to what that even means."

Grindelwald watched him for a while. "Has anyone ever called you pretentious?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "As if you were never seventeen. So, what was Durmstrang like?"

Sirius handed Harry a letter with his name on it.

"Did we get an owl?"

"No," Sirius said. "I got this from Remus, who got it from Andromeda, who got it from Molly, who got it from Muriel, who got it from Ron."

"What a journey," Theo said. He was working on unraveling the Dark Mark barrier spell. They still had Dolohov under the Draught of Living Death to use as a test subject.

Harry opened his letter. "They want to meet. They've put a place and time."

"Weasley didn't go to Hogwarts?"

"Ginny did. They're saying Ron's got spattergroit to keep him out. They're using the ghoul from the Burrow's attic as a body double."

"Will you go?" Sirius asked.

"There's nothing in it for me," Harry said, folding the letter back up.

"Friendships aren't transactional," Sirius said.

"The ones with those two are," Theo said. "They want Harry Potter. Someone who parrots Dumbledore and embodies their ideals, who won't compromise any morals they project. And what does Harry get out of it? Nothing, at least nothing he wants. He doesn't want fame or adulation, or hangers-on, or a sidekick. Or whatever it is that Weasley pictures himself as."

"They are definitely sidekicks. Do you want to come with?" he asked Theo. "It's at a muggle park. You could feed ducks."

Harry watched as Theo flung entire slices of homemade bread at angrily quacking ducks.

"I don't think bread is good for them," Harry said, laughing as a duck was pelted, and immediately feeling guilty. "And you're supposed to break off pieces, not give them the whole thing."

"This was your idea," Theo said. "If there were instructions, you should have given them to me before I ran out of bread."

Theo brushed his hands off and turned around, looking at something over Harry's shoulder. "I see Weasley and Granger."

"Bully for you."

"This was also your idea."

"Sorry," Harry said, taking one of his hands. A woman passing by with a pram gave them a disapproving look. Harry gave her two fingers, and she hurried off.

"What did you do to make that woman upset?"

"Exist. Here they are."

"Harry!" Hermione said, running up to hug him. He patted her awkwardly with one hand.

"Let's find a bench," Harry said, walking around the duck pond. "How are you two?"

"We've been worried sick," Hermione said. "But Remus has been keeping us all updated. It's amazing you've been—"

Harry quickly cast a muffliato around them. "Hermione, you've really got to use privacy charms in public."

"Sorry! Did you do that wandlessly? It's great you've been saving muggleborns. Is there any way we can help?"

They sat down on a pair of benches. Harry dragged them closer together.

"We've been stuck at Aunt Muriel's for weeks," Ron said, looking at bread sinking under the water. "We've been bored to death."

"Better than actually dead," Theo said quietly.

"Why is he here?"

"Ron, we've been over this," Hermione hissed.

"Have you?" Harry asked airly.

"Ron says you told him you've been friends since third year?"

Harry glanced at Theo, who might actually have died of boredom. "Yeah. Almost since we got off the train. We ran into each other in the library. I don't really want to talk about me and Theo. We're dating, he's important to me, that's the end of it."

"Okay," Hermione said hastily. "I didn't mean to pry."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"We want to help," Ron said. "You don't know what it's like, sitting around doing nothing..."

Harry laughed humorlessly. "Don't I? Try telling that to Sirius."

"What Ron means is, well, we've talked about it and think…Dumbledore gave us all something in his will. He must have meant us to work together, to defeat You-Know-Who."

Harry was glad she understood the Taboo. He looked at Theo, not sure what to say.

"Why do you keep looking at him?" Ron demanded. "Need his permission to speak?"

Harry leaned away from this vitriol. "What are you on about?"

"It's his fault if you've gone dark! Moody's told us stories about what his dad got up to!"

"I'm sorry?" Harry said. "Moody's a nutter!"

"He told us about the bodies in the Ministry," Ron said darkly. "Said someone had been eviscerated."

"Should I have let him kill me then?" Harry asked. "Weren't you the one suggesting we kill some Death Eaters because they'd do us in first?"

"Ron, we talked about this!"

"Just because you said not to bring it up doesn't mean I have to listen!"

"Is that what matters to you?" Theo asked softly. "It's more important that Harry doesn't use what you call dark magic than it is for him to survive? To defeat the Dark Lord?"

"You call him the Dark Lord! See? See Hermione? Dark magic corrupts, we all know that!"

Harry stood up, as did Theo. "This has been a waste of time."

"Harry, wait! Ron, do shut up!" Hermione snapped at him. "Please, I honestly think Dumbledore meant for us to work together."

"I know that," Harry said. "He told me as much the summer before sixth year, even though he knew I was closer to Theo. Snape even caught us on the grounds in third year…" 

Harry rubbed his face, sighing. "Dumbledore made mistakes. I knew more than he thought I did, and given how quickly he bought it I doubt he had time to adjust his will accordingly."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"It's the kind of information I'd be killed for having," Harry said. "Like everything else I'm not telling you. I don't trust either of you."

"But you trust him," Ron said bitterly. 

"Of course I do," Harry said, wondering how stupid Ron actually was. "I—"

Harry came to a dead stop. 

He looked at Theo. Really looked at him.

"Holy shit. I need to…we need to go!"

"Harry! Wait!"

Harry did not wait. He grabbed Theo's arm and apparated them away.

"Where are we?" Theo asked, looking around.

"I have no idea," Harry said. "Let me see your patronus."

Bemused, Theo cast the spell. A silvery fox, barely visible in the daylight, leapt out playfully, chasing circles around them, until it faded away like sea foam.

Harry stared at where it had disappeared, then looked around. It was the same hill Sirius had brought him to one summer. The same scrubby plants and resinous smell, sharp pebbles rolling under his feet.

He took Theo's hand and began up the trail. Robins tittered from nearby bushes. There was a breeze, the dry rustle of leaves as it passed through the trees. The sun was high and bright overhead. It was nearly lunch time. 

Harry scratched his nose. 

“What are we doing here?” Theo asked. 

“Hm?” Harry looked off to the side. “Just going for a walk.”

“You apparated us away in the middle of a conversation with your Gryffindor friends, who are currently in hiding, so we could take a walk?”

“...Yes.” Harry looked around and whispered, “Homenum revelio.” 

There was no one else there. 

“What was that spell?” Theo asked. 

“Nothing.”

They reached the top of the hill far too quickly. It was too hot. Harry pulled at his collar. 

“The heath is still flowering,” Theo said, looking out across the rolling land spread below them. Soft purple heather, the golden yellows of gorse and St. John’s wort, the dark pink of red campion. Something moved under the dusty green leaves, startling a chubby red grouse into flight. 

“Cute bird,” Harry said absently. 

“Harry, I don’t think you brought me up here to talk about the local wildlife.”

“No,” Harry agreed, looking up at Theo. He almost lost his nerve when he saw him smiling. “No, something has been brought to my attention.”

"Has it?" Theo's smile grew broader. It was terribly distracting.

"Yes," Harry said decisively, taking both of Theo's hands. "I have come to the conclusion that…"

Theo waited patiently, eyes sparkling like the night sky. It made Harry dizzy, but he set his shoulders and ran headfirst into it.

"Theo, I love you."

"Took you long enough to realize."

"I—" Harry spluttered. "What?"

Theo bent closer to him. "You can be such an idiot sometimes."

"What?"

Theo was incredibly close now, filling Harry's vision. He whispered something for Harry's ears only, lips brushing so tantalizingly against his. The world stopped moving, holding its breath.

"I love you too."