Harry Potter and the Order's Death Eater

'Stay behind me.'

Sirius's tone was worried, but it came at a huge contrast to the amused smirk on his face. Doing as he was told Harry let him go first, both of them drawing their wands as they crept down the garden path and into the dark house.

Though he knew they were both perfectly safe, for the Order would be nearby and surely wouldn't allow them inside were it not safe, the scene inside was alarming. They peered into a sitting room where a grandfather close lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, pendulum lying a little further away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Sirius raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper.

Harry held back a sharp intake of breath. It did not matter that Sirius had told him it was safe, that he was unconcerned. The scene of total devastation struck him unexpectedly, his chest tightening around his thundering heart as he tried to keep his thoughts in focus. But in the peripherals of his vision were the memories he had so recently gained. The destruction of his grandfather's office, a Christmas tree on its side and baubles smashed. Blood spattered balloons that decreed 'Congratulations Baby Potter'.

Snape's office after that night. Broken glass and spilled potions; his desk turned on its side; a cabinet door hanging by the hinges.

'Stay in the hall,' Sirius murmured.

He gave him a knowing wink as he stepped into the sitting room. Slowly Harry let out the breath he had been holding, the tightening of his chest easing up. There was nothing wrong here, and to his relief his body seemed to keep up with that fact. He kept it together...

While he remained in the front room he watched Sirius creep around the sitting room, his shoes crunching over broken glass. He was looking around, shining his light on various parts of the room until he stopped, going quite still for a long moment. Harry couldn't help himself, he crept right into the doorway without actually going in, and saw the very moment Sirius lunged forward and jabbed the end of his wand into the seat of an overstuffed armchair, which yelled 'Ouch!'

'Good evening, Professor.'

Harry's jaw dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched the man he recognised as Slughorn, massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Sirius with an aggrieved and watery eye.

'There was no need to stick the wand in that hard,' he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. 'It hurt.'

Sirius's tone was sharp. 'It was meant to hurt. What are you playing at pulling something like this?'

Slughorn grumbled, straightening the highlight polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pyjamas. 'I've been dodging Death Eaters left, right and centre!'

'Dodging me too.'

'Yes, you too!' Slughorn complained, waving a finger at him. 'Wanted you to think someone else had done the dirty work. What gave it away?' he grunted, remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered presenting to be an armchair.

'Professor if the Death Eaters had really come to call the Dark Mark would have been set over the house. That, and the fact that the Order of the Phoenix let me get him,' Sirius turned and ushered Harry to come in, 'Within a hundred feet of the place.'

Stepping into the wand light Harry went in, and Slughorn's eyes widened. His eyes flicked up and down Harry with what looked like horrified delight.

'Oho!'

'You remember my Godson, Harry?'

Harry didn't get a chance to speak for Slughorn cut him off, his voice raised dramatically. 'So that's how Albus thought he'd persuade me, is it? Well the answer's no, young Sirius,' he said quite forcefully, looking away from Harry as though shielding himself. 'No!'

Again Harry didn't get the chance to speak.

'I suppose we can have a drink at least?' Sirius suggested, his tone so friendly and polite it made Harry do a double take. 'Make up for all those parties I foolishly never attended.'

Slughorn hesitated, staring at Sirius hard...he glanced in Harry's direction and then away again. He looked a second time, longer now. Holding the wizard's gaze Harry forced a small smile on his face, lifting the corners of his mouth ever so slightly...and it worked.

'Alright then, one drink,' he said ungraciously, turning back to Sirius now. 'Help me clean up, won't you?'

'Of course.'

Together Sirius and Slughorn waved their wands in one identical sweeping potion. The furniture flew back to its original place; ornaments re-formed in mid-air; feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves, oil lanterns soared on to side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks and holes healed everywhere; and the walls wiped themselves clean.

As soon as the room was back in order Slughorn turned on his heel and hurried out of the room, but Sirius seemed unconcerned. He nodded at Harry approvingly, and it seemed he was already doing well even without having spoken a single word. Sirius directed him to a nearby chair right beside the fireplace, and he took the seat with the impression that this would make him as visible as possible. When Slughorn returned to the room, levitating a tray of decanters and glasses, his eyes went immediately to Harry.

'Humph,' he said, looking away quickly as though frightened of hurting his eyes. 'Here-' He gave a glass to Sirius and then Harry, making quite a show of the way he averted his eyes and refused to look at him. Not taking offence Harry simply murmured thank you, watching in mild apprehension as the decanter poured a red liquid into the glass. He didn't particularly fancy drinking something a stranger had given him, he'd learned that with Umbridge, but a glance to Sirius told him it was okay.

'How are you, Professor?' Sirius asked lightly, taking a sip of the wine.

Slughorn was sinking into the only remaining chair, directly opposite Harry. His legs were so short they did not touch the floor.

'Not so well,' he said at once. 'Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue.'

Harry sat and listened with an air of polite interest. Inconspicuously he looked around, the room cluttered room fit for a wizard who claimed to be seeking creature comforts; there were soft chairs and footstools, drinks and books, boxes of chocolates and plump cushions. The picture frames on the mantle caught his eye. Most were people he didn't recognise, but he thought one might have been a Holyhead player...he couldn't properly see without moving closer, but it looked like it was autographed.

'...all last year, Lucius Malfoy -'

Harry's eyes flew to Slughorn. It felt as though an invisible hand had twisted his intestines and held them tight.

'- inviting me round for drinks. Invitations to dinners and charity balls - like I didn't know exactly what he wanted from me,' Slughorn was complaining. 'Everywhere I turned, there he was! A slippery fellow to get away from.'

Harry gave an incredulous laugh, and both Sirius and Slughorn looked at him. Feeling the spotlight turn he hesitated a moment, but then he spoke for the first time. 'I had a hard time getting shot of him too.'

Slughorn blinked, and he stared at Harry before taking a hasty gulp of his wine. 'Yes, mmmh,' he muttered uncomfortably. 'Well, after a fashion...I followed the news,' he added. 'Most of it rubbish of course, I know how it works. But the occasional article did pique my interest.'

Seeing the opportunity Harry spoke up again. 'Like in the Quibbler?'

Still looking uncomfortable Slughorn nodded. 'Yes, I did enjoy that one.' Quite suddenly he seemed to realise what he said, and his drink sloshed as he sat up a little and looked at Harry. 'Of course, I mean...not that I enjoyed your story, I merely...took note of it,' he concluded, trailing off and clearing his throat. He turned back to Sirius. 'In fact I took it as quite the indication that I was in the right mind to be avoiding the company of such individuals.'

Sirius stood up rather suddenly.

'Are you leaving?' asked Slughorn at once, looking hopeful.

'No, I'm wondering whether I might use your bathroom.'

'Oh,' said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. 'Second on the left down the hall.'

As Sirius crossed the room he looked back at Harry, a quick glance. Harry knew exactly why he was leaving - his presence there was only getting in the way. The atmosphere became distinctly uncomfortable now that the two of them were left alone.

'Don't think I don't know why he's brought you,' said Slughorn abruptly.

Harry held his eye and nodded, not denying it. 'We both know why I'm here, Professor.'

There was no missing the way Slughorn's eyes glinted at that, at the sound of The Boy Who Lived calling him Professor. His watery eyes slid over Harry's scar, but this time he properly took in the rest of his face.

'You look very much like your father.'

'Yeah, I've been told.'

'Except for your eyes. You've got-'

'My mother's eyes, yeah.' Harry had heard it so often from strangers he found it a bit wearing.

Getting the hint Slughorn promptly changed the subject. He straightened his shoulders while adjusting the buttons of his velvet jacket. 'Well I am not returning to Hogwarts,' he declared, raising his voice in hope that Sirius would hear. 'No matter what compensation package Albus dangles in front of me.'

The way his gaze fell back upon Harry with a mixture of temptation and resistance might have been amusing were it not tiring. It was becoming clear that Slughorn was an easy person to read. He was failing terribly to hide his interest in Harry, and there was nothing at all subtle about him.

Harry changed the subject. 'So what do the Death Eaters want with you?'

'I imagine they would want to turn my considerable talents to coercion, torture and murder,' he said, sounding oddly proud that he was in demand for such things. 'I'm a highly experienced Potion Master. Know quite a bit about healing and restorative draughts too. There are a number of favours someone with my expertise can offer criminals.'

'They were after my mum for the same reason.'

'Your mother?' he questioned, blinking in surprise.

'Lily Evans. You knew her, didn't you?'

'My favourite student,' he smiled. The decanter was topping up his glass. 'Not that we're to have favourites of course, but we always do.' There was a pause now, Slughorn trying his best not to look at Harry until he simply couldn't help himself anymore. 'What could they have possibly wanted from Lily Evans?'

'Same thing they wanted from you. She was good with Potions, eve-'

'She was more than good,' Slughorn interrupted, correcting him. 'She was a young maestro. Could have gone anywhere with her skills. Into any field of her choosing.'

'Well, the Death Eaters wanted her in their field.'

There was an awkward pause now, the conversation stalling as Harry scrambled for something else to say...for something that would work, something that would tempt...

'If you're not coming back to Hogwarts who do you think will take over teaching Potions?'

'Any number of people I suppose,' Slughorn mused, and looking glad for the new subject he proceeded to rattle off half a dozen names, all seemingly very important people he knew quite well. And as he sat there and listened Harry began to better understand what Sirius had been talking about, that Slughorn liked feeling important because of the people he knew. Friends in high places...

'I'm not very good at Potions,' he began. 'Wouldn't have stood a chance in my OWLs if Sirius hadn't tutored me.'

Slughorn shook his head, waving Harry off. 'With genes like yours I'd say you just didn't...well, I...'

'I reckon I know what you were going to say. Didn't have a very good teacher?'

'I wouldn't say that,' he responded quite diplomatically.

'I would,' Harry said boldly. 'Snape and I never...meshed,' he said concluded, feeling it was an odd way to describe the relationship the two of them.

'Some people don't have the temperament for educating.'

'I'm planning to become an Auror,' he added. 'But I think Potions is going to let me down. Like I said, I'm not very good.'

'I'm sure you'll be quite alright.'

'Not if the grade to get into NEWT level is an Outstanding,' he pressed, getting the feeling the subject had Slughorn's interest. 'There's no way I'm getting that in my OWL, so I don't know what I'll do.'

Slughorn waved him off again. 'I wouldn't worry, young man. I've gladly taken students who receive an Exceeds Expectations. I've even been known to take an Acceptable providing the...'

His eyes widened as he trailed off, realising what he had started saying. Harry jumped at it.

'You'll take an Acceptable?'

'Took,' he clarified. 'I took the occasional Acceptable grade, providing the student was sufficiently motivated to pick up their grades, attend some remedial lessons. They don't always last, but I give them the opportunity to try.'

'So I've got a chance then?' Harry pressed, both playing the game and reassuring himself. 'As long as I scrape a pass, I can-'

'I shan't speak as to who will be your teacher next year Harry, nor to the grades they'll accept into NEWT level studies.'

'Right,' he muttered, feigning disappointment. He sat back into the armchair. 'So you're definitely not coming back?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Right.' He cleared his throat and looks around, thinking for a moment. He knew what he was trying to achieve, that it was merely a manipulation...but of someone he know very little about. So he carried on, pressing ahead with what he did know about Slughorn.

'When we met at Malfoy's sentencing, you said Sirius and my mum didn't get along.'

Slughorn looked pleased to be back on the subject of Lily. 'Your mother and young Mr Black were too competitive for their own good. And Sirius he...well he lacked a certain tact,' he said lowly, his eyes darting around as though Sirius might be listening. He leant forward a little, a glint of enjoyment in his eye. 'It was the first class of the year and I was running a little competition amongst the students, a highly desirable prize for the winner, a bottle of Felix Felicis, when Sirius quite publicly accused Lily of sabotaging his potion.'

'Accused her?'

Slughorn nodded in amusement. 'Of course an unfounded accusation didn't go down well with her. Quite the argument ensued before tempers settled. I recall a handful of liver may have been thrown, I won't say by who. That might have been the end of it,' he continued, changing his tone as he got to what was clearly the crux of the story. 'Until Lily retaliated by actually sabotaging his potion.'

Harry grinned. 'Punishment fit the crime.'

'I'm certain that was her thinking. I did used to tell her she ought to have been in my house, and very cheeky answers I got back in return. Naturally it caused some tension between Sirius and your father. It was the first time I ever saw those two arguing - nearly came to drawing wands! Had to put all three of them in detention that day. Of course your father was terribly love sick over her,' he mused. 'Can't have liked Sirius stirring the cauldron like that.'

'What's the competition?'

Slughorn smiled. 'Well, as bit of an ice breaker for sixth years I have them brew a Draught of Living Death. A little trickier than previous curriculums, but we do repeat it la...' He trailed off again, his enthusiasm waning as he realised what he had been saying. 'Oho,' he chuckled, shaking a finger at Harry. 'That won't work on me, young man.'

Harry played dumb, feigning innocence. 'I wasn't trying anything,' he said shortly, sounding offended.

Slughorn shook his head. 'I know why Black brought you, and it shan't work!'

'Fine.'

'The prudent wizard keeps his head down and such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate-'

'You don't have to join the Order to tech at Hogwarts,' said Harry, who could not quite keep a note of derision out of his voice; it was hard to sympathise with Slughorn's cosseted existence when compared to Sirius, crouching in a cave and living on rats. 'And I reckon the teachers are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster, he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?'

Harry had been sure Slughorn would be one of those wizards who could not bear to hear Voldemort's name spoken aloud, and was not disappointed; Slughorn gave a shudder and squawk of protest, which Harry ignored.

'I didn't much fancy being at Hogwarts at all last year, but at least I knew I was safer there with Dumbledore than I was taking my chances out here.'

'Well, yes, it is true that He Who Must Not Be Names has never sought a fight with Dumbledore,' he muttered grudgingly. 'And I suppose one could argue that I might well be safer a little closer to Albus...'

Slughorn narrowed his eyes, but Harry could tell already it was not with genuine annoyance or offence. He stared at him now, but Harry held his gaze and waited, refusing to speak again. A beat passed, and then at precisely the right moment Sirius returned. Slughorn jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house, giving a small yelp.

'Oh, there you are, Black,' he said. 'You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?'

'No, I was merely perusing the Muggle magazines.'

'Wouldn't have thought you were one for knitting.'

Sirius swiftly moved on. 'Well, Harry, we've intruded long enough,' he said lightly, turning to him and ushering him up. 'I think it's best we be off.'

Not at all disappointed, and with the feeling he had done all he could, Harry jumped to his feet.

Slughorn seemed taken aback. 'You're leaving?'

'Yes, I think I know a lost cause when I see one.'

'Lost...?'

Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddled his thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Sirius fastening his cloak and Harry zipping up his jacket.

'I'm sorry we couldn't convince you to return to teaching, Professor.'

'Yes...well, as I say...'

'I'd best get Harry home.'

'Bye Professor,' said Harry, following as Sirius simply strode out of the sitting room.

They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.

'All right, all right, I'll do it!'

Harry and Sirius turned around to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway to the sitting room.

'You'll come out of retirement?'

'Yes, yes,' said Slughorn impatiently. 'I must be mad, but yes. And you can tell Albus I'll be expecting a pay rise!'

Sirius grinned, but Harry was far more restrained. He merely smiled, looking Slughorn in the eye. 'Guess I'll see you in September, Professor.'

His parting comment sealed Slughorn's decision, that he would be the teacher of the famed Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One.

Without another word Harry and Sirius departed, the garden gate swinging shut behind them as they set off back down the road. There was a distinct air of satisfaction, and Sirius seemed to almost be walking with a sprig in his step, which Harry felt was quite unusual for him.

'Well done. You achieved in five minutes what Dumbledore failed to achieve for over a year.'

'He did all the talking.'

'Don't be humble,' Sirius laughed, nudging him. 'You played him like a fiddle.'

Though he largely agreed Harry was just relieved it was done. Whatever Dumbledore wanted with Slughorn, he was one step closer to getting it. 'I dangled myself in front of him, and now I have to do what? Brown nose him at school?'

'You might have to attend a party or two, just to keep him on your good side.'

Harry stopped in his tracks. 'You expect me to go to a teacher's party?'

'If that's what Dumbledore wants.'

'Really?' he questioned again, his tone forcing Sirius to stop also. 'You're telling me to do what Dumbledore wants?'

Unable to brush this off Sirius too slowed to a stop, turning back to him. He sighed, restlessly rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to think. Perhaps he regretted what he had said last month, that in the heat of the moment, while he was sick and injured and dispirited in St Mungos he had warned Harry not to trust Dumbledore.

'I never said you can't trust Dumbledore's judgement...only that you should question it.'

'Maybe I will question it,' Harry said forcefully. 'Maybe I'll have the Order get a message to him. He promised that message would go out.'

'And it would,' Sirius assured him. He sighed again, this time looking at his watch. 'Can we talk about this another time? Molly's waiting up for you, and I...until seeing you I've had a shit of a night.'

The mere mention of Sirius's night was enough to pique Harry's interest and divert him from Dumbledore. 'You really won't tell me what happened?'

'No,' Sirius said, setting off again for the motorbike. 'Not yet at least.'

Willing to accept a not yet Harry hurried after him and caught up. They walked back the way they had come, returning to the motorbike where Sirius took his place first and raised the stand, gesturing for Harry to get on behind him. But Harry paused before getting on. He couldn't resist asking -

'You accused mum of sabotaging your potion?'

Sirius guffawed, and his eyes narrowed. 'Why does no one believe that she started it?' he said grumpily. 'It was all her.'

'Sounds like she finished it too.'

Rolling his eyes Sirius gestured for Harry to get on. 'Your dad didn't believe me either,' he grumbled as he put the key into the ignition. 'The whole thing was entirely her fault.'

'Sure it was.'

Sirius's muttering continued as the engine roared to life, and sitting behind him Harry was grinning. Learning about his parents through the eyes of Sirius and Remus was different to all others, for no one knew them quite like their best friends.

Just like before there was a great rush that came with taking off into the air, the unnecessary roar of the engine added to the exhilaration. And now that the efforts made with Slughorn had paid off Harry allowed himself a moment of true relief. He had left Privet Drive for another year, and in a short while Sirius would deliver him to the Burrow. Later he would rejoin Sirius, the two of them spending the remaining summer renovating his home at Godric's Hollow. His summer would be spent as one should - with his friends and the family that had made him one of their own.