Friend Since Birth

*****
Severus was furious. The argument with Dumbledore had lasted almost an hour and at the end, Severus made the mistake of leaving before Minerva. Minutes later, he turned around, only to find himself too late. She was exiting the Headmaster’s office with a dazed look and no memory of the argument. He swore to himself quietly but guided the still dazed woman to her office gently and made note to contact Black as soon as possible. She’d shouted at Dumbledore the most and it was obvious she was not his loyal follower if he had to obliviate her. It made him wonder just how much memory she’d had stolen and how it would affect her long term. If Dumbledore was being sloppy, her memory wasn’t gone, just buried, and if the right potions and spells were used to cleanse her, the memories would return.

Once she was settled and he gave her a quick story of a short meeting before classes started, he tore off to his rooms to send a short message. Perhaps, it was not a bad thing that he was reconciling with the pair of Marauders. He would like nothing more than to unleash the pair of menaces on the school, if only to protect his students and fellow professors.

He made another mental note to test the adults as soon as possible and he already had plans for the House meeting tonight for his snakes.

Scribbling a few short sentences to both Sirius and Ragnok, he slipped the papers into his message box and set off for his class.

The day dragged as he set to correcting misconceptions on the ease of potion making. Just because it required no active magic, the students tended to think it was easy and he was determined to not follow his predecessor’s legacy of losing at least a student a year to an incorrectly brewed potion. Yet each year, a new set of dunderheads proved his efforts a strain and he had to save at least one student from an explosion before the day was out. As usual.

The chaos of the afternoon was almost enough for him to quit on the spot, promises and threats be hexed. He’d mistakenly assumed the twins would be serious this year, after the elder Potter’s urging, but that had been thoroughly abandoned. The prank of pixies had been perhaps the worst he could remember and if he could prove it was those demented twins, he would skin them. He strongly suspected, as he always did, but as usual, the pair were far too good at covering their tracks. At least the dunderheads had the forethought to ward the potions stores and his labs or he would have tracked them down regardless of proof.

He’d managed to avoid the unenviable task of tracking down the remaining creatures. Hagrid had offered that and Severus would not be surprised if he was at it for hours only to find the idiotic labels the creatures had worn on necklaces were wrong. Though, he would forever cherish the memory of Delores Umbridge practically shrieking as she ran away from a small herd of them.

Needless to say, by the time dinner rolled around, he was nursing a migraine and little patience for news of the trouble the Potter brat had gotten up to in the first day. To see him sitting again at the Slytherin table, his unruffled dueling robes marking him obvious in the sea of flowing black and the gold and red Gryffindor accents surrounded by green and silver, was astounding, if he did say so himself. It would seem the Chosen One was taking his cleanse and training to heart. And if Severus wasn’t mistaken, there were more colors around him than had been there this morning. If fact, he could see the Lovegood girl sitting between Potter and Malfoy. Severus was stunned. Perhaps they had a chance in this moronic plan of increasing inter-house cooperation to assist in the coming war, if Potter was making strides within a day of actual effort.

Then the horrible woman Umbridge approached McGonagall and him.

“As their Heads of House, I felt I should inform you that Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have detention with me tonight,” she said sweetly.

“For what?” Severus snarled, concerned for his godson and, reluctantly, the Potter brat.

“Spreading lies in my class and inciting a walkout,” she said, batting her eyes at them.

“And what lies did they spread?” Severus asked, cold fury evident in his tone.

“Does it matter?” she asked, dropping a bit of her sweet tone.

“If it is news of You-Know-Who’s return, then yes, yes it does, as the Ministry has already confirmed the authenticity of the memory Potter provided of the events at the end of last school year,” Minerva said briskly.

“Well, he did mention something about that, but the lies were about the previous Defense professors. And they both led the walkout, so unfortunately, I cannot revoke the detention.”

Minerva and Severus exchanged a look but said nothing. It would not do to interfere with the woman’s punishment, but Severus could tell they would both be getting the story from their respective students later.

“Very well,” Minerva said. “We’ve been informed. Thank you, Dolores.”

The woman nodded and made her way to her seat. Severus added another order to his agenda for the evening meeting and made note that Harry would probably miss it. He would have to arrange another that the brat could attend, perhaps when he could arrange for Black to join.

*****
In a room full of curious children, tired after a long day of learning, a blonde sat alone in a corner and sighed as she felt the fates shift. As much as had changed lately and this was one thing that hadn’t. She did not envy the spy the pain that would follow when the truth of the matter was discovered. But it did not save the boy the pain now…

*****
Sirius stared at the note in a bit of shock. He’d figured they’d made a lot of progress, but to see it had gotten to the point that Snape reached out to them was another matter.

“Sirius?” his pup asked, looking up from her latest set of parchment from Ragnok. “What’s wrong?”

“Snape sent a note,” he said softly.

“And?”

“Minnie is definitely being oblivated,” he answered. “Whether or not she’s in on everything is still up for debate, but she just took Dumbledore to task for keeping Harry’s lordship from him and putting him with the Dursleys. Apparently, she told the idiot they were horrible when he was looking at them for a place to put Harry. And he didn’t listen.”

“Shocking,” Arianna grumbled, turning back to her parchment. “But we figured she wasn’t complacent before.”

“Yeah, but Snevillus sent me a note to confirm,” Sirius said, shock still evident.

The stinging hex to his chest should have been expected when he unconsciously slipped in his old name for the dungeon bat.

“That is surprising,” Arianna growled, glaring at him while he rubbed the now sore spot.

“I’m trying, Ari, but it’s habit!” Sirius whined. “Just like me saying ‘Nice one, James’ when Harry does something amazing! Harry looks so much like James I can’t help it sometimes! The words just roll off my tongue without conscious thought. I’ve called Snape that for so long, it takes a lot of effort to use his real name.”

Arianna sighed and Sirius winced at the almost pity he could see in her eyes. He never liked pity and hated it in his family. But then it morphed into understanding and he couldn’t quite figure out what was worse.

“Alright, Uncle Pads,” Arianna said, offering a soft smile when he preened at her name for him.

“So, Minnie?”

“First, I still love that you call her Minnie. Secondly, unfortunately, I can’t imagine cleansing her now would do much good,” she said. “With the entire staff in question, it would put her in more danger to cleanse her and have her the only one free of potions in the school beyond our kids and Snape. It’s bad enough that Snape’s having to do it. If any of the others are working with Dumbledore willingly, it could prove disastrous to McGonagall. Or even deadly if they can’t get her back under control. Snape’s so used to living a triple life, no one will question his actions much as they’ll assume he’s been given orders by the other side, not his own for once.”

“I was afraid of that,” Sirius grumbled.

As much as he loved his former Head of House, he knew she’d not take the truth lying down. She was Head of Gryffindor for a reason and patience and plotting was not it. Chess mistress she was, but this was an attack on her students, her kits, with her as the weapon and she was fiercer than a protective mother dragon when either of those two proved true. Together and she was guaranteed to try to kill Dumbledore the second she was in her right mind. Especially if they managed to uncover her memories while they were at it.

“Let’s wait a bit for them to manage to test the rest of the professors and we can reevaluate,” he finally offered. “If we can prove they’re all potioned, I would prefer to start with her. She’s a force to be reckoned with and we could use her help getting the rest of them out of the castle and to the goblins.”

“And if she tries to kill Dumbles while she’s doing so, all the better?” Arianna asked with a smirk.

“Oh, I have faith in Minnie!” Sirius said with a vicious smile. “She’ll manage to take a limb at least.”

“Bet?” Arianna asked, pulling a quickly familiar notebook over.

It was hilarious that they shared this little quirk. Never any real money or true emotion behind the bets, but they did bet like this a bit. He had actually managed a pretty penny when he’d bet Ron could get Molly to twitch constantly when he was pranking her. Without letting on that it was him.

“Bet,” he agreed.

*****
Hermione and Ron stood in front of a door Ron hadn’t ventured near since a disastrous spy attempt in second year. And Hermione had never managed to get near. Polyjuice accident and all…

And she’d been so proud of herself that she’d managed a decent potion…

Not that Madam Pomphrey knew. She just assumed the entire batch had been bad and Hermione had been the only one to take it.

Now, she was so much more nervous than she expected.

“Relax, Hermione,” Ron soothed, running a hesitant hand up and down her back in an attempt to comfort her before she accidentally caused something to happen in her unblocked magic.

She’d not gotten as big a power boost as some of the others, most of her magic and mind left alone, but it was enough to cause the occasional bout over the last few days. Something none of them besides Harry had had to deal with in years.

“We’re going into the Slytherin common room,” she hissed. “When only a few months ago, none of us could stand Malfoy and his ilk.”

“I shall try and not take offense, then,” Malfoy said dryly from where he was suddenly leaning against the wall by the entrance Ron had found without effort.

She did not squeak in surprise. And she’d hex anyone that said otherwise.

“Hello, Malfoy,” she tried to say without a sneer.

It must have been more successful than she’d planned.

“Granger, Weasley,” Malfoy greeted back, nodding at them.

“Were you the one ordered to get us?” Ron asked, a small sneer on his face.

Hermione had no problem smacking him for it.

Malfoy only quirked a blond eyebrow at them.

“Would it surprise you to know I offered?” Malfoy finally asked, tone mild enough to cause some concern.

“Yes,” Ron snapped.

Hermione hit him again and glared until he huffed and muttered a soft apology.

“Obviously, Potter hasn’t gotten you fully on board, then,” Malfoy commented.

“A snake is a snake,” Ron grumbled.

“And a lion is an idiot,” Malfoy said with an eyeroll. “Please, come into the snake’s den, then, and enlighten us about our resident celebrity and his newest attempts at confounding us all.”

*****
Regulus sighed as he settled on the bed Severus had transfigured for him. The note the man had sent was perched on the small side table he’d put near the bed, making use of some of the furniture in the large study. Since he wasn’t going to be seeing his husband anytime soon, due to an unexpected Slytherin meeting, he didn’t have to pretend anymore.

And he was so very tired still.

Whatever his bitch of a mother had done, despite how perfect a son he’d been up until he’d gone after that blasted horcrux, it was not as nice as it seemed to be.

Eir did not approve of his need to hide most of the lingering symptoms, but she’d agreed to help him so he didn’t end up killing himself trying to do it alone.

The shakes had lasted weeks. The soreness had only just gone away before he’d boarded the train to Hogwarts under an invisibility cloak that explained so very much of Sirius’ time with the Marauders.

But the bone deep exhaustion was desperately clinging on, like a bowtruckle to their favorite tree, and it took quite a lot for him to seem so awake.

Eir had expressly forbid him from taking any Pepper-Up, or any potion really. Especially with the medical potions she already had him on. The box of those was stored just under the side table he’d pulled over.

He took a moment to contemplate if he really wanted to go to sleep just after dinner and decided that it was a sound plan. This would be a long enough year as it was, hidden away because everyone thought he was dead and no one wanted to take any chances of that changing. Because he truly would be dead if the Dark Lord learned he’d survived and was awake. As would his unborn child that he was so thrilled about. The madman couldn’t risk the information about his horcruxes getting out. Which was something he’d have to tell his brother about at some point.

But for now, he could indulge for once and sleep as much as he wanted. Eat what he wanted. And when he had the energy, get to actually work with his hands and get dirty without Walburga shouting at him for ruining his proper image.

He fell asleep with a smile to the mental image of smearing mud over Walburga’s portrait the first chance he got. Sirius would be proud.

*****
Hermione hesitated again just before the proper entrance to the Slytherin dorms where Malfoy stood holding the portrait open for them. This was a big step and she wasn’t certain she was comfortable walking into the snake pit. She had no idea when the last time a muggleborn had stepped foot through this portrait. If ever. And she had no idea if those beyond were going to hex her. If this was a trap. It wasn’t like second year, when she’d brewed Polyjuice potion for them, if she’d managed to snag a hair that was not Bulstrode’s cat. She may have felt differently if it wasn’t the first time she’d walked into the other House, but it was. And her worry for Harry was urging her to run in the opposite direction so she could track him down.

Instead, she stood outside the entrance with Ron and worried her lip.

“Relax, ‘Mione,” Ron tried to reassure. “We were invited so the likelihood of them hexing us is pretty low. Not even snakes would break a truce like that.”

“It is rather depressing how little you think of my snakes, Weasley,” a familiar voice snapped from the shadows.

Hermione let out a surprised squeak and grabbed Ron’s arm, but his relaxed stance told her he’d somehow managed to spot the notoriously stealthy professor before he’d announced himself.

“It’s not a low opinion, Professor,” Ron said, voice tinging to a growl. “Only experience. And I’m trying very hard to respect Harry’s wishes to give them another chance so I’m trusting their apparent agreement to the traditional truce Harry offered.”

“Well, be that as it may, even if they do not respect it, I will be sure you leave in the same condition you enter,” Snape said, nodding to the painting guarding the dormitory that Malfoy still held opened. “I shall convey any relevant information, Mr. Malfoy. Best get to your detention before Professor Umbridge decides to extend your time.”

Ron led the way past the pouting blond and Hermione froze just inside when she saw that the entire House was waiting for them, most sitting on comfortable looking sofas and chairs and the older ones stood closest to the door on obvious guard.

“Merry met,” Ron muttered, bowing slightly to the room at large.

Hermione followed suit and was surprised by the chorused response. Perhaps she would brush up on her pureblood etiquette if this was the response it garnered.

“Now, tell us what the Golden Boy of Gryffindor meant when he said he had no idea he was an Heir and subject to pureblood politics,” demanded a sixth year Hermione recognized as Duncan Urquhart, a Quidditch Chaser many believed would get the Captaincy next year.

Hermione exchanged a look with Ron, but Ron only shrugged and gestured to the room in general. Hermione huffed in annoyance, but nodded in acceptance that she’d take lead.

“Perhaps we should get settled in first,” Snape suggested, pointedly glaring at the two empty chairs by the fire before Hermione could get started. She blushed but nodded and allowed Ron to drag her to the chairs. She was not intimidated by the unwavering stares. She wasn’t.

“Now, explain,” Urquhart demanded again as soon as they were seated.

“I suppose I should start with the night Harry’s parents died,” Hermione started.

The room stilled in anticipation and Hermione swallowed thickly before beginning the tale of Harry’s placement with the Dursleys.

*****
Harry made his way slowly back to the Defense classroom, nervously fiddling with his wand and trying not to think about the Gryffindors’ reactions to his story of his summer. His heavily edited story of his summer. He was actually a little shocked the entire house had agreed to a meeting. And until they could test the lions, he just couldn’t trust anyone outside the circle, but they’d managed to allay a few fears and cover at least some of his home life. Not enough to cast speculation on Dumbledore, but enough to get the lions to believe he was never going back willingly and that he’d never received training in his Heir status and pureblood culture. The purebloods in the House had been just as horrified as the Slytherins that morning and as one had started to demand who his magical guardian had been, but he begged off explaining. He promised he would tell them as soon as he knew for certain and then cited his detention before escaping. Hermione had cast an annoyed glare at him but allowed him to leave before making her own and Ron’s excuses to make their way to the dungeons and the Slytherin meeting. The telling had taken longer than expected but Harry promised to join them as soon as his detention was over.

Finally, he was at the familiar door and sighed as he stood waiting. He was not going to be in a room alone with her, even if his company was Malfoy. A few minutes later, the blond showed, muttering darkly about missing the explanations.

“I told you. I’ll explain later,” Harry said with a sigh.

“And I’ll still miss the reactions,” Malfoy snarled. “Half the reason for an explanation is to see how others react.”

Harry looked at him quizzically, but just shrugged and figured it was a Slytherin thing. Perhaps Arianna could explain it later.

Then the pair entered the Defense professor’s office. Only to both wince at the amount of pink and strange cat plates in the familiar room.

“Mr. Malfoy, you will be assisting Mr. Filch tonight,” Umbridge said sweetly, gesturing to the surly caretaker who waited in the corner.

Malfoy looked at Harry in concern but followed the man without protest. Harry swore softly but was unable to call for Arianna in his mirror while the toad was watching. He’d have to suffer through this one and hope she didn’t dose him with something or hex him. He’d also have to start checking his desire to call his sister at every difficulty. He’d gotten by just fine without her for years and she had enough going on as it was. He could handle one detention and one nasty professor. Especially since it was looking like Snape and the Slytherins wouldn’t be as much of a pain this year.

“Now, you’ll be writing lines for me, Mr. Potter,” she said, gesturing to the desk and the blank parchment she had.

He shrugged and settled at the desk, digging in his bag for a quill.

“Oh, you won’t be needing a quill,” she said. “I have one for you.”

She set an inky black quill on the desk and he shrugged, picking it up. “And ink?”

“You won’t be needing it. This is a special quill that doesn’t use it,” she said, settling into her own desk and setting to grading the summer work for some class.

Harry eyed her for a moment, then sighed. “And what am I to write? And how many times?”

“You will write ‘I must not tell lies,’ as many times as it takes for the message to sink in,” she said.

Harry shook his head in exasperation at the vagueness, but began to write. Only to freeze when an itch started on the back of his hand. A quick glance showed the red lines scratched into his flesh fading away quickly.

“Problem?” the professor asked.

He shook his head and continued, gritting his teeth against the eventual pain and fighting to keep the pain from crossing his bond with his sister. The last thing he needed was to drag her here on the first day and it was just scratches on his hand. He’d had much, much worse, even just since school let out for summer.

The woman masquerading as a professor had him writing for hours, long past when he expected the Slytherin meeting to have ended. When she finally allowed him to leave, his hand was bleeding and numb and he was mentally cursing the woman. But he was also more convinced to keep this from Arianna as long as possible. He would not risk her plans so she could protect him from a quill Umbridge had gloated about having permission from the Minister himself to use. As long as he kept the detentions to a minimum, he’d make it through the year fine and they could keep to the plans for next summer. Plans that would make next year much more bearable, since most of the secrets he’d be keeping this year would come to light.

He made his way up to Gryffindor Tower and numbly walked past the few stragglers still awake, only to collapse in bed without even changing.

*****
Sirius twitched where he sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld. Moody was due any moment and, while he liked the crazy old Auror, he didn’t particularly want to have this conversation with the paranoid bastard…

“Sit still,” Theseus said with a laugh. “He won’t bite.”

“That you know…” Sirius grumbled.

“I do bite,” Moody announced from where he was now sitting across from them. “Now, what do you want?”

“Well…”

“How do you feel about goblin tests?” Theseus asked before Sirius could put his foot in it.

“Like ‘em. Always nice to have a neutral party testing people,” Moody growled with a shrug.

Sirius just nodded and pushed the parchment over, trusting the man to have his own dagger handy.

Moody fixed both eyes on him and Sirius tried not to feel like a misbehaving school kid or a wet behind the ears Auror training again.

“It’s like that, then?”

“Yup,” Sirius said, popping his ‘p’ just to annoy.