Neither of the boys was so naive as to think the adults weren't aware of exactly where Draco had slept that night. But no one commented on it, so Harry was sure they were in the clear. Not that they had done anything they shouldn't have.
Not that he thought any of their guardians would really care at this point if they did. Draco was sixteen, and Harry was almost the same — he had told Sirius when he and Draco started getting more intimate, and Sirius just said he trusted the pair of them to be responsible.
They'd been together long enough now to be trusted not to make hasty decisions in that regard.
The morning paper arrived, full of more incompetence from the Ministry. Along with it came a couple of letters; one for Remus, and one for Harry. He opened it eagerly, reading the contents.
"Sirius, Mrs Frobisher has invited us for dinner on Tuesday," he relayed. "She says the Bones' will be there too. We can talk everything over. Is that okay?" He had promised Susan a dinner with their families at some point in the summer, so this would kill two birds with one stone.
"I think that's a marvellous idea," Sirius replied, looking up grim-faced from the paper. "We can talk about how Dumbledore is insinuating you're possessed in a national newspaper."
Harry blanched. "He what?"
Sirius handed the paper over, and Draco jostled Harry's shoulder as he squeezed in so they could both read it.
It was a piece digging deeper into the attack at the Ministry a month ago — namely, how Harry had come to be there to begin with.
'When questioned, Albus Dumbledore reminded our reporters that he was not present at the school at this time. "However," he went on to say, "Mr Potter has long had a connection to the Dark Lord. The specifics of which are unknown to me, but as both have grown stronger it is increasingly clear that Harry has insight into [You-Know-Who]'s mind that the rest of us can only make guesses at."
When asked if the connection went both ways, or for further details of the incidents, Professor Dumbledore declined to comment. On further investigation, it appears many students have witnessed Mr Potter experience 'visions' throughout his school life, claiming to have seen within the mind of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Indeed, sources report that Mr Potter may have experienced such a vision during his History of Magic exam, where witnesses say he had some sort of fit and left early — mere hours before the attack on the Ministry began.
What is the nature of this connection Mr Potter seems to possess? Could it be dangerous? This reporter is unqualified to make such speculations, and the Unspeakables were unavailable for comment on the matter.'
By the time he finished reading, the dishes were rattling on the table.
"Control it, Potter," Snape droned, sounding almost bored. Harry took a deep breath, pushing his magic back down.
"Surely there's something in there we can sue him for," Harry growled, glaring down at the paper.
"If there is, I'm sure Mrs Frobisher will find it," Remus assured. "But Albus has been playing this game for longer than any of us have been alive, cub; he knows how to say just enough to get people to fill in the blanks, while keeping it vague enough to avoid legal problems. And it's not like you can hide the visions you've had, not after having one in the middle of an exam."
"I'm sure half the auror department have put the pieces together, considering Amelia and Kingsley always have the earliest warnings on raids and you're known to be friendly with them both," Sirius added.
Harry's scowl deepened — he couldn't even go on record with the truth about the connection, not without giving up the secret of horcruxes. Dumbledore knew exactly what the connection was, but instead of declining to comment he was dropping infuriating little hints — giving support to these vague 'witness claims' of him having visions.
"Does he really think I'm being possessed, or is he just trying to make my life difficult?" His question was directed at Snape, who frowned.
"He knows you're not possessed, in the traditional use of the word. However, I do think he truly believes you have been… changed, by the presence of the Dark Lord's soul in your body, especially now the Dark Lord himself is active once more. He does not think you could have shed the compulsions and magical blocks so fully by yourself — and he thinks you too foolish to have discovered them and had them removed elsewhere. His reasoning is that the Dark Lord's soul is influencing you to become more powerful and lean towards the Dark — and away from the headmaster and his influence." The Slytherin snorted derisively. "He is too arrogant to consider you might have developed a mind of your own at some point in the last three years. So, naturally, the only explanation is the mind of another leading you astray."
A sound of disgust worked its way out of Harry's throat. "I hate him," he muttered, and several people hummed in agreement.
"We'll get him, pup," Sirius assured. "Write back to your lawyer, tell her Tuesday's perfect."
Harry hoped they could get enough evidence to destroy Albus Dumbledore.
.-.-.
With Draco living at Seren Du, Harry's training had picked up in full force — it was good for him to go back on things he might have already learned, while Draco learned them for the first time. And at the rate the blond was progressing, he'd be caught up to Harry in no time; Harry might have the raw power to smooth his way, but Draco had the brains and determination to match the fiercest of Ravenclaws. Not to mention far too much pride to let himself look bad in front of both his godfather and his boyfriend.
For Harry, who had spent the past two summers feeling like he'd stolen Snape from Draco, it was great to see the pair finally getting to work together. And very amusing, to see Snape working with someone he didn't feel the need to snipe at every few minutes, even in jest. Harry could see how much Draco idolised his godfather; sometimes, watching them, he could easily imagine a much younger Draco, begging Snape to teach him about potions, carefully mimicking the man's every movement. Snape indulgently explaining the different techniques for preparing ingredients — he didn't suffer fools, but his godson was no fool.
It always made Harry think back to the memory Snape had shown him, of his heavily pregnant mother; of her offer to carry a child for Remus and Snape. Snape's instant dismissal of the whole thing — far too quick, in Harry's opinion.
How different things could have been.
But today they weren't working with Snape, as the Potions Master was at Hogwarts brewing for the upcoming school year. Instead, they were with Sirius, walking out into the woods surrounding the property; past the property line entirely.
Outside the apparition wards, for lessons both Harry and Draco could hardly wait to start.
"Apparating isn't really as hard as it's cracked up to be," Sirius told them as they walked. "Won't be for you two, anyway; it's all about focus, and you've got that in spades."
Another thing Harry likely would have struggled with under Dumbledore's compulsions. Merlin, the man really had hoped to make Harry helpless!
They stopped in a clearing not too far from the ward line, and Sirius brandished his wand, tracing two sets of white circles on the ground, about ten feet apart. "We'll start off easy, to get a feel of things. You can see where you're going; all you'll have to do is get from one circle to the other."
As Sirius began to explain the three Ds of apparition, Harry tried his best to focus, stepping into the nearest circle. He very pointedly didn't look at Draco — the look on the blond's face when he was concentrating incredibly hard was far too cute, in Harry's opinion, and he knew he'd just end up getting distracted.
"Don't expect much to happen immediately," Sirius warned them, stepping back to watch. "It takes some time to get the hang of it. Remember, you've got all summer. No need to rush it and splinch yourselves." Both boys winced; yes, they definitely wanted to avoid that outcome.
Much like he did with his animagus practice, Harry steadied his mind and his magic, staring hard at the circle he was aiming for. He knew what apparition felt like from a side-along perspective; he just had to figure out how to get that feeling himself.
The first time he tried, nothing happened. Same for the second, third and fourth tries. After a while, he started to feel a bit of a tingle of magic, but it still wasn't quite enough to just throw himself into nothingness and hope he might reform on the other side.
He was also starting to develop a headache.
A glance over at Draco showed he was equally frustrated, and Sirius grinned sympathetically. "That'll do it for now, I think. Like I said, it takes time. It's a bit like the animagus transformation; once you've done it once, it becomes easier. You just have to make that initial pathway in your magic."
"I'm sure if I'd succeeded in the animagus transformation, that would make me feel better," Draco sniped, folding his arms. Sirius wasn't swayed, still smiling.
"Why don't you give it a try now, I'll see if I can help you out. I know you're at least halfway there; Harry told me you managed wings the other week."
"There were feathers everywhere," Harry piped up playfully, sticking his tongue out at Draco's glare. "If you two are gonna work on that, do you mind if I do the same? I've only ever been a fox indoors, so far; I want to see what it's like to really be in a forest." His fox senses were so sharp, he knew it would be overwhelming the first few times.
"Sounds good, but we'll move back inside the wards, first."
Sirius left the four white circles on the grass and led them back towards the house. Harry felt the faintest tingle when they crossed the ward boundary. "Don't go too far, pup," Sirius warned. Harry gave him a thumbs up, then kissed Draco's cheek, and within an instant he was a lot lower to the ground.
As he'd anticipated, being a fox in the woods was a lot. There were so many smells; creatures, magical and muggle alike, the diferent plants, the moisture in the earth. The scents of Sirius and Draco and himself. The scent of the wards, the magic fizzing lightly under his nose.
Mindful of his boyfriend and godfather, Harry bounded off into the trees, getting used to the feel of the soft earth under his paws. It was incredible, experiencing the world like this.
In the process of becoming an animagus, Harry had read the warning stories of people who became so attached to their animal forms that they ended up stuck in them forever, unable — or unwilling — to return to human form. Even Sirius had mentioned, once or twice, how he'd almost crossed that line after spending so much time as a dog to save his sanity in Azkaban. For the first time, Harry could understand how such things could happen; being out in the woods, his fox senses in full force as he sniffed out rabbit trails and strange birds and even the scent of Buckbeak having passed through, it was a strange sort of bliss Harry hadn't experienced anywhere else before. Things were so much simpler, in the mind of a fox; his worries melted away, in favour of keen-eyed exploration of the undergrowth.
He didn't let it overwhelm him, though. He had to keep a firm hold of the human side of his mind; he had too much at stake for that. When things started to get a little much, he turned back towards the familiar scents of Sirius and Draco, ignoring any other scents that might distract him. That was much easier — even as a fox, Draco's scent made Harry feel safe, made his heart flutter.
He didn't want to disturb his boyfriend's concentration, so Harry looked around for a comfortable place to watch from. His gaze landed on a nearby tree, the bark rough and the low branches wide and sturdy. There was something he hadn't tried, yet…
Skittering up the tree, Harry grinned to himself in triumph when he made it to the lower branches, and settled in to watch Draco meditate. Already, the blond seemed to be making progress; his wings came far quicker this time, arms sprouting feathers all the way up to the shoulders. Sirius crowed in delight, and Harry's little fox heart warmed at the smile on his boyfriend's face.
"That's a really great start, Draco!" Sirius enthused. "Bird forms are supposed to be really hard to get, anyway; with the bone density and everything, it's a bit more complicated than mammal to mammal." He watched Draco shake his arms, feathers shedding onto the grass as they became human once more. "Keep practicing, I bet you'll have it down by the end of summer." Sirius checked his watch, and frowned. "We should probably get back inside before Remus sends out a search party. Wonder where Harry's wandered off to?"
Harry chuffed quietly, then launched himself out of the tree towards his godfather; Sirius yelped, but thankfully managed to catch Harry, steadying the fox somewhat awkwardly in his arms. "Bloody hell! Scared ten years off my life, you little menace."
Harry let out a little fox laugh, licking Sirius' chin. Sirius' already half-hearted glare melted. "You're lucky you're cute," he declared, then held the fox out. "Draco, here you go."
Draco cradled the fox like a baby, ruffling the soft white fur of his belly. Harry wriggled in delight, snuffling at Draco's neck. "Do I have to carry you all the way home?" Draco asked laughingly, and Harry nodded. "And you say I'm high maintenance," the blond muttered, rolling his eyes.
Harry chuffed again, making himself comfortable in his boyfriend's arms. Draco smelled even more amazing to his fox senses, this close.
It was nice; being carried, listening to Draco's soothing heartbeat. It was even nicer when they got back to the house and Draco carried him to the small living room, sprawling on the soft rug with him and petting him gently.
Harry could definitely understand why Sirius liked being Padfoot so much.
.-.-.
On Tuesday evening, Harry and Sirius bid goodbye to the rest of the household and set off for the edge of the wards, planning to apparate to Grimmauld and then floo from there to the Frobishers' house. When they arrived, Vicky and her parents were waiting in the hall for them; Vicky clearly took more after her father, a tall man with curly dark hair and the same gap-toothed smile. Mrs Frobisher on the other hand was a smiling East-Asian woman with her black hair tied back in a simple ponytail, far more petite than her husband and daughter. "Lord Black, Mr Potter, welcome," she greeted, shaking both their hands. "It's so good to finally meet you both in person. Amelia and Susan just arrived, come on through."
Harry and Sirius both took their shoes off where instructed, then followed the family through to the dining room. Sure enough, Susan and Amelia were both waiting, and Susan hurried forward to hug Harry. Then she offered an open-palmed bow to Sirius. "Well met, Lord Black." She grinned. "Nice to meet you properly."
Sirius laughed. "You, too, Heir Bones. And Madam Bones, I can't thank you enough, for everything." He shook the woman's hand earnestly, and she smiled.
"Your godson saved my life, I think we're even," she remarked. "Thank you, Mr Potter. Without your warning…" She trailed off, squeezing her niece's shoulder. "Well, it's best not to think what might have happened."
"I'm just glad I could help."
Mr Frobisher levitated dinner through, and Harry took a seat between Sirius and Susan. There was a current of anxiety twisting a coil in his belly; for all he'd gotten used to family dinners in the last couple of years, he'd never had a proper dinner outside the family before. The closest anything came to it was staying with the Weasleys, but they had always just treated him like an extra kid, so it wasn't nearly the same.
Adding on that this was a business dinner, of sorts… Harry just hoped he didn't make a fool of himself.
You'll be fine, murmured a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like Draco.
"I thought we'd save all the work-talk until after we've eaten," Mrs Frobisher said, waving her wand to pour water for everyone. "No need to ruin our appetites!" They laughed, and Harry looked down at his meal; it was a rice and vegetable dish he wasn't familiar with, but it smelled amazing.
"So, Harry — if I might call you Harry," Mr Frobisher began, and Harry nodded in assent, "Vicky was telling us about the defence club you put together last year. It sounded awfully exciting!" He chuckled. "I wish she was that enthusiastic about all her classes."
Further down the table, Vicky blushed.
"It was a lot of fun," Harry agreed. "I mean, I wish it hadn't been quite so necessary," a dark look crossed everyone's faces at the reminder of Umbridge, "but it was fun getting to know everyone better and work on spells we might not have learned in class."
"I didn't expect joining the quidditch team to lead to a secret underground defence club," Vicky remarked, "but it definitely made the year interesting!"
"With any luck, the next teacher will be a bit more competent, and you won't need a secret club just to pass your exams," Amelia mused.
"Provided we did pass our exams," Harry said. Susan scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Come off it, Harry; if anyone in the HA got less than an E, I'll eat my copy of that awful Slinkhard book," she said, making him blush.
"Well, not much longer to wait to find out." Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder.
"Don't remind us," Susan mock-groaned. "Only a couple more weeks to find out if all our dreams are crushed forever."
"Speak for yourself," Harry teased, "I don't need OWLs to play quidditch."
Susan's only response was a glare that had everyone at the table laughing.
"Well either way, I'm sure when Vicky does reach her OWL year, she'll be very grateful for your help," Mrs Frobisher said with a smile. Then her face turned mischievous. "Meanwhile, I'm sure she's very grateful to your club for getting her talking to the boy she's been writing non-stop since she got home."
Vicky immediately turned red. "Mu-um!" she groaned, and Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"I've not heard anything about a boy."
"He's another Gryffindor. Name begins with a C — Christopher? No. Callum?"
"Colin?" Harry asked, and Mrs Frobisher clapped her hands together.
"Yes! Colin, that's the one."
"Colin Creevey?" Harry's gaze moved back to Vicky, who looked ready to sink through the floor. "Well, that is news."
"They've been sending letters back and forth all week," Mrs Frobisher teased. "Should I be worried, Harry?"
"Nah, Colin's great." Now he had stopped being weirdly obsessed with Harry, at least. "Don't worry, Vicky. I'm a great matchmaker. Just ask Susan." It was Susan's turn to blush, though she did so with a glare.
"You're lucky Aunt Amelia's already met Theo, Harry," she grumbled, and he laughed.
"He mentioned you'd told her about him, don't worry. I'm not that mean."
"I don't need a matchmaker, Harry," Vicky informed him, still bright red. "Colin and I are just friends. He's really good at Transfiguration."
Harry hadn't known that, but he could also tell Vicky was not being entirely truthful. "Well, if that changes," he drawled lightly, "Colin and Ginny are good friends. So when Ginny's back on the quidditch team next year you'll have an in."
"But you'll be back as seeker?"
"Ginny's going to try out for chaser," Harry explained. "Katie'd be mad not to pick her."
Vicky, keen for the change of subject, happily turned the conversation onto the Gryffindor quidditch team's chances.
"That reminds me, Harry," Amelia cut in, "you'll be pleased to hear that all of Umbridge's Educational Decrees have been rescinded — including your lifetime quidditch ban. There will be no trouble with you returning to the Gryffindor team."
Harry beamed at her. "Brilliant."
"I almost wish Umbridge wasn't in Azkaban, just so she could see the exam results from the last year and know exactly how much better a teacher than her Harry was," Susan mused. "I bet the look on her face would be brilliant."
"Surely not all the students who weren't in the HA did poorly?" Harry asked. "I mean, sure, we were a bit more organised, but wasn't everyone practicing spells in secret?"
The two girls shared a bemused look. "Not that we saw," Susan replied. "Everyone else was too scared of getting caught."
"Sometimes Harry forgets that not everyone has the same disregard for the rules as him," Sirius said dryly, clapping his godson on the shoulder. "It runs in the family. In all ways, quite frankly."
"Auntie Zelda said she could pick the HA kids out just by their practical exams, and not just in Defence," Vicky chirped, and her father sent her a scolding look.
"Vicky, you shouldn't talk about other students' exam performance. Especially when you haven't even taken your own yet."
"I didn't name names!" Vicky protested. "Just said the difference was obvious."
"Excuse me, but — Auntie Zelda?" Susan asked, perplexed. Vicky grinned.
"Griselda Marchbanks," she said with a shrug. "It's more my great-great-something auntie, but who's got time to say all that."
Harry and Susan turned to stare at each other, eyes wide.
"You're related to Griselda Marchbanks?" Susan asked. "I— does that mean… I'm sorry, but… Mrs Frobisher, how much are you aware of what Harry and I have been doing at school — outside the HA?"
Far from being confused, Mrs Frobisher's face was knowing. "Are you talking about your alliance with the other heirs?" She smiled, reaching to place a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Aunt Zelda hasn't publicised things for safety's sake, but considering what we're going to discuss later, I think I can trust that none of you will be spreading rumours. Vicky is indeed the heir to the Tremblay seat. Well, technically I am, but as soon as Vicky comes of age she'll be the next in line. I've no intention of being on the Wizengamot — and Zelda certainly has no intention of leaving the seat empty any time soon!"
"I… we had no idea," Harry murmured. "I mean, your family tree isn't public record — we haven't been snooping," he insisted quickly. "Just… seeing what information is common knowledge."
"No, no, I understand. Amelia has mentioned a few things about Susan's political future," the lawyer remarked with a grin. "But the Tremblays have never really fallen in to the whole Wizengamot crowd — I myself was educated in Japan, where my mother's family is from. We didn't want Vicky to feel like she had a reputation to uphold when she's just trying to be a teenager. No offence, of course, Amelia," she added hastily, but Amelia waved her off.
"Oh, none taken. Sometimes I think that's the right idea of it — unfortunately, the Bones family have been far too proud of themselves in the last few centuries to hide away their family tree. And of course, there's only the one branch of it left, now." Amelia's smile turned sad as she looked at her niece.
"We'll keep your secret," Susan promised. "But, Vicky… if you're ever interested in taking a more active role, before your aunt passes the seat on. Or if you just want to meet the other heirs our age — we'd be happy to introduce you. We've got a sort-of study group."
"I'll think about it," Vicky confirmed. Then she frowned. "Is Cormac McLaggen in it?"
Harry frowned. "No? Should he be?" Harry was only vaguely aware of the older Gryffindor, in that Katie thought he was a prick.
"He's always bragging about his Uncle Tiberius like he's the Ogden heir." Vicky scowled. "Like he's special for having a family member on the Wizengamot."
"Cormac McLaggen isn't Tiberius' heir, love," Mrs Frobisher assured. Her eyes flicked to Susan as she spoke. "Aunt Zelda knows who it is, but she won't tell me. She's good friends with Tiberius, though, and apparently he's got a few things to say about how his brother-in-law raises children," she said, sounding amused. "If I remember correctly, Tiberius had an older sister who passed the seat on to him to go travelling, but I don't know where she ended up. Presumably she has a child that's in line."
"Well, that's good," Vicky said decisively. "McLaggen is the worst. He kept flirting with my roommate last year, even when she told him to bugger off. He was a sixth year." She gave a theatric shudder. "And Katie told me he was talking about trying out for Keeper this year."
"He didn't try out last year, did he?" Harry asked, horrified at the thought of Katie having to play on the same team as her hated yearmate.
"No," Vicky said, shaking her head, "he was in the hospital wing. Ate something stupid on a dare, I think."
"What a delightful young man," Mr Frobisher said dryly. "Well, I wouldn't worry about it, sweetheart; I'm sure you'll beat him even if he does turn up for tryouts. And on that note, I think we'd best leave your mother to talk business with her clients."
Vicky looked a little dismayed to have to leave the table — Harry could relate — but she nodded in the end, getting to her feet.
"It was good to see you both," she said to Harry and Susan. "I'll see you at school, I suppose. If not sooner."
"See you, Vicky. And don't worry — I'll talk to Ginny about putting in a good word with Colin for you," Harry teased, winking. Vicky huffed.
"I think I'm doing just fine on my own, thanks," came her confident retort. Then, she offered picture-perfect curtseys to both Sirius and Amelia, and followed her dad from the room.
When they were gone, Mrs Frobisher sighed. "Never thought I'd be raising a Gryffindor," she muttered, shaking her head.
"If it helps, Huflepuffs aren't easy, either," Amelia sympathised. Susan just gave an innocent smile.
"Professor Sprout says I'm a delight," she insisted.
"Professor Sprout doesn't know half of what you get up to at that school," Amelia accused without hesitation.
"Now, Amelia," Sirius drawled, eyes bright, "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."
"You know absolutely nothing, Sirius Black," Amelia retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "And remember I got you out of Azkaban."
"For which I will always be grateful," Sirius agreed, though as soon as Amelia looked away Harry saw his godfather wink at Susan, mouthing 'I'll tell you later'.
"Student hijinks aside," Mrs Frobisher cut in pointedly, Vanishing the empty dishes on the table with a wave of her wand, "we do have quite a bit to discuss. From here on, you can be assured that anything said falls under client confidentiality."
"Good to know." Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh; I suppose I should start by telling you that Gringotts has magical signature evidence that Albus Dumbledore put a block on my family magics when I was a baby? And put enough compulsions on me when I started school that I repeatedly endangered my own life without hesitation?"
Both women stared at him in horror. Sirius squeezed his shoulder. "You'd better go from the beginning, pup."
"I… yes, I think you'd better," Frobisher agreed faintly. Harry gave a grim smile.
They certainly had a lot to cover.
.-.-.
Harry's recount of everything he knew for certain Dumbledore had done to him took a little over half an hour, but when it came to things they only speculated it was a much larger conversation. "I'm worried that if we bring everything out too early, he'll get it swept under the rug," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "He just… half of wizarding Britain is so convinced he can't do anything wrong, and they've already painted me a lunatic half a dozen times."
"With even half this evidence, he'll struggle to convince everyone," Mrs Frobisher assured. "Especially with what I've heard Amelia pulled out at Lord Black's trial."
"That was brilliant," Harry agreed, grinning up at Amelia. The dark-haired witch smiled slightly.
"I saw the opportunity, and I took it," she demurred. "The Wizengamot has spent decades being Albus Dumbledore's personal chessboard, it's long overdue for that to change." Then she shook her head, amazed. "I had no idea he'd gone so far as to put compulsions on children."
"You didn't tell us it was that bad, Harry," Susan added, biting her lip worriedly.
"It's fine. They're gone, now. And as far as I know, he hasn't done any on any of the other students."
"Still," Mrs Frobisher said, "we can only imagine what else he might have done that no one has discovered."
"I suspect we'll never know the full extent of it," Sirius mused with a frown. "But as long as we can get enough to break what hold he currently has. Long enough for the kids and their friends to get in and show us old farts how politics is really done." He winked, making both Harry and Susan grin.
"I certainly think we've got enough to work with," Mrs Frobisher agreed. "I can't yet file anything for his comments regarding your connection with the Dark Lord, but you can be sure I'm keeping an eye on the paper, Harry — the second he steps out of line, I'll file a suit on your behalf," she promised.
"I can't do anything that means I have to explain what the connection is," Harry warned her. "Or have it examined or anything. I know what it is," he added at Amelia's mild look of alarm. "But it's not something that should be talked about, even in private."
The fewer people who knew anything about horcruxes, the better.
"I understand," Mrs Frobisher assured. "Don't worry, I won't let it get that far. A cease and desist to the Prophet is likely all it'll take." She pursed her lips. "With influential people like Albus Dumbledore, a lot of the work is done behind the scenes. Much like his own work — let people read their own conclusions into the little things that are done, and you'll get better results than attacking outright. From what I've heard from Vicky, you've already done very well with that — a lot of the students at the school think more critically of the headmaster these days, and that's gradually spreading to their families. And with Amelia working on the Ministry and the Wizengamot, the dissent is certainly rising."
Slowly, a devious smile overtook her face — the kind of look that Harry had learned to be wary of, after so many years with both Weasleys and Marauders around.
But in this case, it was Dumbledore about to face Mrs Frobisher's wrath, so Harry wasn't wary at all.
"I have something of a plan, if I may?" Frobisher asked, and Harry shared a look with Sirius.
"The floor is yours," Harry offered.
The devious smile grew wider.
.-.-.
Once they were back at Seren Du, Sirius slung an arm over Harry's shoulders on the walk back up to the house. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said conversationally. "Your lawyer would eat me alive."
Harry laughed, grinning. "Keep that in mind when you're planning your summer pranks," he teased. Sirius ruffled his hair.
"You did well tonight, pup," he said, stopping Harry just outside the front door. With his hands on Harry's shoulders, Harry had to tilt his head up a little to look Sirius in the eye, though the difference between them was far less than it had been a year ago. "Both over dinner, and afterwards. I know you were worried about the whole thing." Harry flushed.
"You think it went okay?" Harry still worried that teasing Vicky about Colin in front of her parents was too far, even though her mum had been the one to bring it up in the first place. He was so used to considering the quidditch team practically family, Vicky had just slotted right into that spot in his mind.
"I think it went brilliantly. And as someone who has purposefully made about every social faux pas in the book at one time or another, I'd say you avoided them well enough." He winked, grey eyes softening. "I can't say if Prongs would be proud — he always hated all that pureblood, Wizengamot crap. But… for what it's worth, you're making your old godfather very proud indeed."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. "I— really?"
Sirius' eyes twinkled, and he leaned in to press a kiss to Harry's forehead. "Really. I can't really claim responsibility — you practically raised yourself thanks to those bloody muggles — but I'm glad I get to be here to see the young man you're becoming."
"I think you've got more responsibility for it than you think, Sirius," Harry insisted. Sirius pulled back, chuckling.
"Maybe. Have to share it with Moony, though. And Severus, I suppose." He made a mock-annoyed face. "It's probably for the best we got you after the formative years were out of the way."
"We'll see about that." Harry side-eyed him, grinning. "Once you've raised a kid or two of your own from the start, we'll see what they turn out like."
Then he reached for the door, because Sirius seemed entirely too gobsmacked by the prospect to do anything but stand there, wide-eyed and gaping. "I— we—"
Harry laughed at him, beckoning him inside. Only then did he let his grin soften. "For what it's worth — I think you'd be great at it." He rocked up on his toes, kissing his godfather's cheek. "I'm going to tell Draco how it all went. Goodnight, Padfoot!"
And so he skipped upstairs, leaving his godfather in the hallway to retrieve his brain from wherever it had fled in response to Harry's words.
.-.-.-.
On the night of the first full moon of the summer, Harry could hardly sit still through dinner. It was finally time — he would finally be able to join his godfathers on their moonlit escapades.
He could tell Draco was a little jealous, though the blond was hiding it well. He knew how important this was to Harry, how much it meant to be able to take part in this ritual his father had helped begin. He'd get to join them eventually.
Sirius and Remus were restless, too, though Harry suspected theirs wasn't entirely excitement as his was — Remus was wary of Harry getting hurt, even though he had run with animagi hundreds of times in his life without issue, and also the Wolfsbane would leave him aware and docile even in the face of humans. But they were his godfathers, and it was in their nature to worry, so Harry didn't protest; they were still letting him join, after all.
If he could prove tonight that everything would go smoothly, hopefully he could become a regular addition to the full moon nights. The ones he wasn't at school for, at least.
After dinner, Remus and Snape disappeared upstairs; Harry was familiar with their pre-moon rituals enough to know that they wouldn't resurface until around half an hour before moonrise. He looked across the table at Sirius, who offered him a small grin. "You should take a nap, pup," the dog animagus suggested. "Save your energy for tonight."
Harry scoffed; as if he could sleep with all this anticipation running through his veins. But then Draco's hand slipped into his, squeezing gently.
Maybe he could nap with company, Harry mused.
"You'll come get me when it's time?" he checked, and Sirius barked a laugh.
"Of course," he promised. "Go on. We've a few hours yet."
Harry still set an alarm, just in case. He didn't want to miss a single second of this.
With Draco's body twined with his, thin fingers carding gently through his hair, Harry managed to drift off for a while, dreams full of abstract flashes of grass and trees and the feeling of being on four paws. When he woke to the beeping of his alarm clock, he found himself with his face buried in the hollow of Draco's throat. He sat up, and the blond blinked dazedly up at him. "You're off, then?" Draco asked, voice husky with sleep. Harry nodded. "Mm, be safe. Have fun. Don't die."
The Gryffindor snickered, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "Will you be here when I get back?"
Those lips curled into a smile. "I'm far too comfortable to move now," Draco assured. Harry grinned wider, and a wave of his hand transfigured Draco's shirt and trousers into much more comfortable pyjamas. "Thank you. Go play in the woods now," Draco dismissed, eyes already falling shut again. Harry kissed him one last time, unable to help himself, then shuffled off the bed and let him to sleep.
Sirius was in the hallway, clearly on his way to retrieve Harry, and he beamed at his godson. "You ready, pup?"
Harry matched his expression. "More than." He fell into step beside the older man. "You'll have to give me a proper nickname eventually, y'know," he said, and Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Prongs came up with all the nicknames," he revealed, running a hand through his hair. "Moony and I were shit at it. Honestly, some of the attempts we made…" He snorted, smile turning a little sad, and Harry's heart clenched.
"You never told me that." They'd always made the nicknames sound like a group effort.
"Yeah. So we can give you a nickname if you really want it, but you might regret asking," Sirius said teasingly. "Or we can take Severus' suggestion, just call you and your boy Mischief and Mayhem. Since that's all you seem to cause," he added with a wink.
That startled a laugh out of Harry. "I think Draco might take offence to that." The Slytherin regularly maintained that any ridiculousness was entirely Harry's doing, and he just got dragged along for the ride. "I… I like it, though." Mischief wasn't a bad name, for a fox.
That made Sirius brighten up, and he ruffled Harry's hair. "Mischief it is, then," he decided, just as they reached the entrance hall. To Harry's surprise, Remus was already there; alone, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, his shoulders tense.
"You hear that, Moony?" Sirius said, grinning at his best friend. "We're sticking with Mischief. You can tell the old bat he's now officially contributed to the Marauders' legacy."
Remus chuckled. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled," he said dryly, then turned to Harry. "You're ready, then? You know what to do if… if things don't go well?"
"Straight back in the house, let Padfoot deal with you," Harry recited, as if they hadn't been over it a million times before even considering allowing him to join in. "It'll be fine, Remus. We'll have fun."
All Remus managed was a tight half-smile, and then he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flashing gold. "I need to go," he declared, sharing a look with Sirius and then slipping out the front door.
Harry knew how it would go — Sirius had explained that Remus never let anyone see him in the act of transforming if he could help it. As children the other Marauders had waited outside the Shack for their friend, and now they would offer Remus the same privacy by staying inside the house until the transformation was complete.
Having seen the transformation as a third year, Harry could understand Remus wanting to do that alone.
And so they waited, listening as human screams became lupine howls. Harry's stomach churned; normally he was in his room at this point, under a Silencing charm so he didn't have to listen. It was awful, knowing that Remus was going through such pain and there was nothing any of them could do about it. Even though Remus brushed it off, insisted that it had been much worse before the Wolfsbane, that he barely even felt it now.
At last, there was a scratch at the door; the signal that the transformation was complete.
Sirius looked at Harry, grey eyes bright and lips tugging in a challenging grin. He winked, then in an instant there was a huge black dog stood there, staring expectantly up at Harry. Harry didn't waste time; a twist of his magic, and he too was on four paws, his senses shifting in a way he was becoming increasingly familiar with. Instantly, he could smell the wolf on the other side of the door; Remus' usual scent still present but overwhelmed by the scent of the predator within him, brought to the surface by the light of the moon.
Sirius nudged at the house wards, opening the door, and for the second time in his life Harry stood face to face with a fully transformed werewolf.
But he had no fear, this time. He knew Remus was in control, knew the wolf would not see the fox as a threat — he bounded out past Padfoot, paws hitting the still-warm grass as he approached the wolf eagerly. Remus had told him what to do here, too; let Moony get his scent, get used to him. Then they could play.
The wolf seemed even bigger, now Harry was so small. The fox sat patiently, keen-eyed and braced to sprint if the wolf should decide it didn't like what it saw. A large muzzle bumped against the side of his jaw, hot breath tickling his fur as Moony inspected him from tip to tail, circling him with wary gold eyes. Mischief didn't flinch. A few feet away, Padfoot stood watching the whole exchange, ready to intervene if needed.
Moony took a step back, then huffed, nudging Mischief with his huge head — a distinctly playful gesture.
The fox grinned, and took off.
In the back of the fox-led mind, Harry's human self was practically shouting in glee at getting to run with the wolf and the dog, all three of them headed for the woods. He darted between larger bodies, yipping excitedly as Padfoot chased after him and Moony followed close behind.
He and Padfoot had run together before, but it was nothing like this. Nothing so… freeing. So exuberant. This was the three of them giving in to their animal instincts, letting Moony truly be himself under the light of the moon. As he ducked and dodged between trees, following interesting scent trails and jumping on his two companions, Harry wistfully imagined a time in the future when there was a shadow overhead, a whisper of white feathers following them from above. Perhaps even two shadows; Snape might be persuaded to make the transformation, now he would not be the only avian among them. Draco would enjoy flying with his godfather.
They ended up in a clearing, a place the two canines were evidently familiar with; the space was layered with the scents of the two of them from many months past, other animals steering clear of a place claimed by the predators so blatantly. Moony and Padfoot wrestled playfully, and Mischief didn't hesitate to throw himself into the mix, taking advantage of his smaller size to live up to his nickname and trip the pair up, even clambering on top of the werewolf at one point to the sound of Padfoot's barked amusement.
Harry's heart raced with joy, even as the three of them slowed down in their play and made to settle in for the night. Padfoot trotted over, swiping his tongue over Mischief's head and chuffing at the disgruntled look it earned. He wasn't sure how much of the night had passed, the moon still bright overhead, but already he knew he would very happily do this every full moon for as long as he could.
Sirius had tried to explain what it was like, back when Harry had first expressed interest in joining them on full moon nights. But he'd always insisted it was something that couldn't truly be described, that the feeling of pack was unlike anything else in the world. Harry hadn't fully understood what he meant until now. There were no human feelings he could put to this, not that would do it justice.
When he curled up between the dog and the wolf, fluffy tail tucked in close to his body, he caught the pair of them sharing a heavy gaze, and then Moony tipped his head to the sky and howled. A howl of welcome, for their newest pack member; a howl of mourning, for the one they had lost. The one who should have been there, antlers raised proudly at the introduction of his pup to the fold.
As he raised his gaze, Mischief caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye — it was probably just his imagination, but for a moment he thought he'd seen the shadowy outline of a stag, lurking in the trees, watching them.
Then he blinked, and the shadow was gone.
The human soul ached within the fox's heart, and Mischief turned back to his godfathers; they were looking at the trees, too. Maybe he hadn't imagined the stag after all.
A full moon held a magic all of its own, everyone knew that. Perhaps that magic was enough to bring the echo of Prongs to life, just for a moment. Just enough to offer his blessing to his old pack, to his son's new animal form.
It made something settle in Harry's mind, an ache he hadn't realised he still held.
He was so grateful to Sirius and Remus, for so many things. But for this, for giving him this connection to his father in such a visceral, soul-deep way… Harry would never be able to thank them enough.