average human’s Reviews > Polyjuice > Status Update

When I say go, kill Timmy, he ordered the large burst of magic waiting his command in his hands.

And....

GO!

***

Lucius sucked in a breath as Potter leapt behind a tombstone and shot a huge burst of wild green spell fire to the Dark Lord’s back.

The Dark Lord gracefully spun around- the curse missing him by mere inches and instead headed straight to-

***

Severus barely ducked Potter’s fucking wandless, silent, unforgivable, killing curse, when the chaotic and brash child in question came darting to his side- summoning his idiotic sword as he dodged around the Dark Lord.

“Sorry,” Potter panted.

Severus was spared responding to that quite underwhelming apology as the Dark Lord began chuckling softly, a chilling sound.

“Witness this,“ the Dark Lord called to his followers, “I thought only Potter would die tonight. And I find myself faced with the pleasure of dispatching of his devoted guardian as well.”

The Death Eaters laughed and jeered like the sycophants they were as the Dark Lord fixed his red eyes on Potter.

“You could have been an asset,” he murmured softly. “Instead- you must die.”

And at the first curse from the long pale wand in the Dark Lord’s spidery fingers-

The three of them broke in to a duel.

***

Barty stood rigidly beside Dumbledore as the old man spoke to him.

“Severus was being summoned,” he said. “Despite Cornelius’ beliefs- Voldemort has risen again.”

“And you’re sure you can trust Snape to bring Potter back?” Barty growled.

“Harry is not my concern,” Albus said quietly. “The child was marked for death the night his parents died. Severus is a good man though, he deserves more than a cruel death at the hands of Voldemort.”

While Barty agreed with Dumbledore’s sentiments over Sev, he stored that clinically spoken remark about Potter away to share with the young Master at another time.

Let there be another time.

***

Lucius and the rest of the masked followers watched in silent awe as three of the most deadly wizards that Lucius had ever seen dueled with fire, pain, and death in all their eyes.

The air was thick with smoke, the heavy scent of spell fire obscured their senses, and all those that were gathered watched as the three shot never ending spells of multiple colors, though green being the most prominent from Potter and the Dark Lord, at one another.

“Do we help?” Goyle grunted.

Lucius sorely hoped not. He was unsure what he would be meant to do at that point. If he raised his wand against the Dark Lord- he would be identified as a traitor. If he sent a single spell at Potter- he would die by his own vow. He could hardly do nothing.

Perhaps he would just duel Severus, it would be his safest option and Severus would disarm him quickly.

“My Lord,” he cried out, putting as much reverence in his tone as he could. “Allow us to assist you! Let us prove our loyalty!”

“DO NOTHING!” The Dark Lord shouted as he volleyed green curses back and forth with Potter. “I do not require help! You will do nothing!”

“We do nothing,” Lucius murmured to Goyle.

Thank Merlin.

***

“Fiendfyre?” Potter murmured.

“No you fucking idiot,” Severus snarled, too focused on the duel with the actual Dark Lord to censor his admonishments to his ward.

His ward whom he was going to kill.

As soon as he ensured he lived past tonight.

“World Cup tactic then?” Potter asked, his face a red and sweating mess from his exertion.

“Grab the cup and portkey back,” Severus murmured in a near whisper out the corner of his mouth. “Flee and I will follow.”

“But-“ Potter paused in his attacks to gape at Severus, who could hardly falter now that he had to protect the idiotic child at his side. “We aren’t running, we’re fighting.”

“Running away Severus?” The Dark Lord sent a mixture of multi-colored spells especially towards Severus. “How typical,” he sneered.

Severus was absolutely going to kill Potter.

***

“Auntie we need to go and start looking!” Susan yelled at her Aunt again. “Call everyone! Send them everywhere! Harry’s in trouble and he needs help! WHY IS NOBODY DOING ANY-FUCKING-THING?!”

“Susan,” Auntie Amelia leant down and put both hands on Susan’s shoulders as she stared very seriously in to her eyes, “do you know where Harry is?”

“No,” Susan said, for the millionth time tonight. “Why does nobody understand that Harry’s an idiot and doesn’t tell us things if it means it’ll make his life easier??”

Susan was going to put a tracking spell on Harry’s sword the very next chance she got.

Please Mother Magic, let there be that chance.

***

“You are an idiot,” Snape said through clenched teeth as his wand arm was hit by a spell. Harry thought it sounded like it broke.

Heal him.

“A grounded idiot,” Snape sighed as he continued dueling.

”Nagini come on! I’d be way better than fuckin’ Timmy!” Harry yelled in Parsletongue at the giant snake. ”Bite him and come home with me!”

“MY NAME IS NOT TIMMY!” Timmy screamed in English, causing Harry to laugh as he ducked behind a nearby tombstone to avoid the jet of green that Timmy sent at his head. ”Nagini do not listen to him. You belong to me,” he hissed.

”I will feast on your bones when my Master kills you,” Nagini hissed.

”Then I’ll kill you too,” Harry told her.

***

Lucius thought that Potter dueling himself was witnessing a work of art came to life, but Potter, Severus, and the Dark Lord?

It was perhaps the most mesmerizing and artful exhibit he had ever, or would ever, see in his life.

“Master! Let us help you!” Macnair shouted, his eyes sharp and bloodthirsty behind his mask as he stared at Potter.

Lucius had his wand held loosely in his hand, as did the other Death Eaters as they awaited orders, and took the opportunity to hit Macnair with a confundus under the cover of the ongoing duel.

It was foolish; but Lucius thought perhaps he may be intoxicated from the power radiating off the three in front of them.

Particularly from the wild haired young man who laughed as he flicked dark curses from his fingertips.

***

A jet of red narrowly missed Potter’s head by centimeters.

Severus felt rage boiling up in him and slashed his wand upwards as he snarled, ”Sectumsempra!”

***

”I will literally feed you Timmy, Pettigrew, Dumbledore, and maybe even this giant I know named Hagrid if you’ll just kill Timmy or Pettigrew,” Harry hissed.

He could feel his magic waning, his energy well taxed.

He was beginning to wish he had waited to confront Timmy until it was a night he hadn’t just fought his way through a maze filled with mad creatures.

”I will rip the flesh from your puny bones and drink your blood,” Nagini hissed.

Harry ducked from a jet of red and heard Snape snarl a curse.

”Sectumsempra!”

Harry shot his own bone breaking curse at Timmy, hoping at least one would hit the surprisingly difficult to kill wizard. Timmy threw up a bright purple shield and easily bounced both spells back at them, Harry had to quickly feint to the left with every instinct Flint hammered in him during long, grueling, quidditch practices.

Snape, twenty years his senior, and only a touch slower than Harry, did not dodge the white curse as quickly and caught it square in his chest.

***

Severus felt a ripping, tearing, searing pain spread across his chest and looked down in surprise.

Hit by his own spell. The spell he fired, the spell he created.

But what a way to go.

Severus could have laughed- only two others knew the counter-curse to his creation; and neither one was here to aid him.

“Snape!” Potter turned and his green eyes grew wide as the pool of blood spread across Severus’ torso, dripping to the ground in a grotesque imitation of tears.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Potter screamed, his throating tearing with emotion, as he began firing a flurry of spells at the Dark Lord in a fury induced rage.

“Harry-“ Severus gasped, struggling to remain upright and shielded, “the cup, flee, please Harry.”

Potter gently shoved him to the ground as he nodded.

Thank Merlin.

If Severus would not survive the night- he would be damned if his child died alongside him.

***

“Tell me again,” Draco whispered to Luna. “Please.”

“Harry will not die tonight,” Luna told him, stroking his light blonde hair soothingly as his mother wrapped them both in her warm arms.

“I-“ Draco looked up at his mother and hated how young he sounded in that moment. “And fathers gone too?”

“He has not responded to any messages,” his mother murmured to him. “They will be fine.”

Draco counted the people he loved who were all with the most feared wizard in the world-

His greatest friend, his ally, his cousin, his gangs leader. He didn’t know if Harry knew this, but Draco couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without his friendship and guidance in his life.

If Harry came back- he’d tell him.

Harry probably needed to hear it... Harry never seemed to know when people liked and cared about him.

His father too: the man he’d emulated his whole life. The man who created him, guided him, encouraged him to stand as a man.

And his godfather. Someone Draco had looked up to his entire life. Draco had always wished to be as graceful as his Uncle Sev. Or, at least, half as smart as the man.

His friend. His father. His godfather.

All somewhere with the Dark Lord Timmy.

Draco didn’t feel good about the odds of them all three coming home safely tonight.

“Tell me again Lue,” he said.

“Harry will not die tonight,” Luna said, her hand never hesitating in her strokes and her voice strong.

***

Harry couldn’t stay and fight Timmy- he had to get Snape back.

He had to save Snape.

Save Snape.

Save Snape.

Save Snape.

It couldn’t be too late.

Even if the pool of blood staining the grass around Snape’s prone body made him think otherwise.

He’ll be fine, he told himself firmly. Snape is a genius. And he’s strong. He’ll be fine.

Harry just needed a second- just one second when he could pause in his spell fire to summon the cup and get Snape to safety.

One second.

That’s it.

”You are powerful,” Timmy hissed in Parsletongue, continuing to send a bunch of damned green curses at Harry’s head. ”But you cannot escape the inevitable forever Potter. Embrace your death now. You can reunite with your beloved guardian and your fool mudblood mother tonight.”

***

“Fuck youuu,” Potter drawled slowly, clearly, and in perfect English.

Lucius could see why his son was entirely dedicated to the young man.

He was terrifying. He was alive. He was covering the graveyard with such power that Lucius could feel it tingling on his skin.

Though Lucius kept his eyes firmly on the body of his dearest friend, his brother in all but blood.

Lucius prayed to every Goddess in the sky that when he went one day- it was defending his family.

***

“This is not how this night was meant to go!” Timmy snarled in Parsletongue, probably to cover his wounded pride.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was complaining, Harry didn’t even have time to drive his sword through his skull like he’d planned.

“I’m always fucking things up,” Harry forced a laugh as he sent as many spells as he could towards Timmy to distract him for just a second.

Timmy threw up a corporeal shield, something Harry was banking on him doing, and Harry moved as quickly as he could.

Harry summoned the cup and smirked as he ducked another green spell, one coming from the crowd of Death Eaters.

Better not have been Malfoy.

***

“Our orders are to do nothing,” Lucius hissed to Goyle. “You heard our Master.”

“But he’s getting away!” Goyle grunted, sounding much like the ape Lucius always imagined him to be closely related to.

“Do. Nothing.” Lucius repeated harshly.

***

Fred listened as the students, ministry officials, professors, law enforcement, aurors, and families all talked loudly in terrified tones.

“Harry’s missing-“

“They said he grabbed the cup and disappeared-“

“Is Professor Snape with him?”

“Who took him?”

“Was this part of the task?”

“An extra challenge for the winner?”

“Would there be god damned hit wizards here if so?”

Fred could hear them. But he couldn’t process the words. He just knew they were all reflecting the same emotion he could feel clawing his insides raw:

Fear.

Come back Harry. Come back. Please Merlin. Come back.

Fred felt his mother’s arm wrapped around his shoulders tightly, and George clutching his hand as tears of anger, worry, and fear streamed unashamedly down his face.

“He’ll be okay,” Sirius Black whispered, his face drawn and similarly covered in tears since the moment Snape disapparated from the field before Sirius could reach his side to go with him. “Harry’s a survivor. He’s going to be fine, he’s going to come back to us. He can survive anything.”

“He shouldn’t fucking have to,” Fred’s mother said harshly, surprising all her nearby children who had never, ever, in their lives heard their mother swear.

Fred ignored them as he pictured Harry’s smiling face and the cocky salute he’d given before entering the maze.

Come back love. Come back.

***

Harry just had one last thing to do-

Well- two things actually.

Bring me Pettigrew’s dagger.

He caught the dagger and stuck it in his pocket, twirling to the side with an irritating laugh as he dodged another curse for it.

One final thing, because Harry would be damned if Snape died for nothing-

”AVADA KEDAVRA!” he yelled, watching with satisfaction as his spell hit a surprised Pettigrew, who was still kneeling beside the cauldron, directly in the center of his chest. He watched as the light in Pettigrew’s eyes dimmed forever before he grabbed Snape’s wrist in the same hand as his sword, and empty his hand caught the handle of the cup and they were jerked away back to Hogwarts.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: The Champion’s Return

95%

“SAVE HIM!” Harry screamed, dropping his sword and the cup carelessly the moment he landed back at Hogwarts. “SOMEONE SAVE HIM!”

“Move. Lad, move. Let go of him,” some shoved Harry harshly to the side and he was momentarily too stunned to respond.

“SAVE SNAPE! DON’T TOUCH ME! SAVE HIM!” he screamed in Barty’s face. “NOW!”

“What happened?” Dumbledore gasped as he came running to where Harry landed on the grounds with Snape’s body. “Merlin. Call Poppy! Quick!”

“No time,” Barty grunted. “Potter- white curse? Cut him open?”

”Yeah,” Harry panted. “Save him. Save Snape.”

”Stay back,” Barty told him, pulling his wand as he ripped open Snape’s robes.

Harry was jerked backwards by a familiar freckled arm that smelled like citrus and sweat. He ignored the inviting feeling of warmth and struggled to get back to Snape’s side.

“Let go,” he snarled. “Snape- I have to help save Snape.”

“Let Moody do it,” Fred whispered in his ear, his toned arms locked tightly around Harry. “Look.”

Harry blinked and saw as Barty’s wand let out a soft golden glow and he whispered something in a musical voice. His wand weaved back and forth over Snape’s, now bare, profusely bleeding chest.

“Can you see?” Fred asked Harry.

The now gathered crowd seemed to hold their collective breaths as Barty’s golden spell knitted together the wounds on Snape’s chest.

“Hospital wing,” he growled, levitating Snape in the air. “He’s critical. Potter, with me. I need to know exactly what all he was hit with if I’m going to save him.”

“Harry needs to stay with me, I need to know what happened tonight,” Dumbledore said.

“And Moody needs Harry to save Snape!” Sirius yelled, his hand hovering protectively over Harry’s shoulder. “Hospital wing Pup, now.”

Harry scrambled to obey, following quickly behind Barty while Fred laced their hands together tightly and followed as well.

“Sectumsempra?” Barty asked as the four of them ran quickly to the Hogwarts entrance, Snape floating in front of them with his eyes closed and his chest still and a rush of bodies behind them screaming, talking, and sobbing.

“Yeah,” Harry panted. He could feel his legs wanting to collapse, his mind wanting to shut down. But he couldn’t leave Snape.

Save Snape.

“Let me help you,” Sirius said before carefully, but confidently, throwing Harry’s right arm over his shoulder and all but half-carrying him as they ascended the grand staircase within the castle.

Harry didn’t even complain; he was sure if Sirius hadn’t helped him that he would have collapsed before they made it to the Hospital Wing.

”Lock”, he commanded his magic with what felt like the last tendrils of magic in his body after Fred slammed the hospital doors behind them.

“Black- blood replenisher, six vials. Weasley- a washcloth, warm basin of water, and sterile soap in the cabinet. NOW!” Barty barked.

Harry collapsed to the floor, his back against the locked doors, as soon as Sirius hastened to obey Barty’s commands.

Hastened to save Snape’s life.

Save Snape.

“Talk to me Potter, don’t go in to shock now,” Barty said. “If you faint I’ll have to choose between you two, and Sev needs me if he’s going to make it through the night.”

‘Sev?’ Sirius mouthed to Fred where the other two conscious in the wing couldn’t see.

“‘M fine,” Harry slurred. He wasn’t fine. His head was spinning. His legs were shaking too hard to support him. His entire body ached with the strain of all he’d done that day. But he’d endured worse before.

And he’d endure a hundred times worse than the worst pain in his life in utter silence if it meant someone saved Snape.

Because he couldn’t.

“Dueled him,” Harry panted as Sirius and Fred gave Barty the requested items. “Snape tried to cut him. He bounced it back. Cut Snape’s chest open. Pettigrew’s dead. Killed him.”

“Pettigrew?” Sirius’ head whipped around and he stared hard at Harry. “Pettigrew’s the one who took you?”

Harry shook his head and bit his tongue hard.

He wasn’t saying a fucking word more about what happened until he could think straight.

He needed to find a way to get the story straight without ripping a single lie he’d laid out beforehand or exposing any of his spies.

Fuck. There’s too many spies.

Why did he have so many spies?

“You killed him though? Peter?” Sirius asked intently. “Harry, did you kill him?”

Harry jerked his head in a short nod and Sirius positively beamed.

“Proud of you Pup,” he said, turning back to assist Barty.

“Harry, stay awake, talk to me,” Fred murmured, sitting beside Harry and pulling him in an embrace.

“Not yet,” Harry said. “Can’t talk yet.”

“You don’t have to talk about what happened, not right now,” Fred said. “But just talk about anything. Stay awake. Tell me about the maze, what’d you do? How’d you win?”

Harry shook his head, memories of the maze already fuzzy within his mind.

“Talk or I’m going to have to leave Snape to find Poppy,” Sirius snapped, his eyes and wand on Snape as the two men worked quickly. “Whatever you want- just talk Harry James Potter.”

“The snake wouldn’t come,” Harry said, blurting the first thing that he thought of. His mind felt fuzzy, and his tongue heavy. But if he had to talk to keep Sirius and Barty working on Snape- he’d do it. “Wanted the fuckin’ snake, didn’t I? Recruiting is hard. Wouldn’t come.”

“You always want snakes,” Fred said as he held Harry tightly. “Little Snake Lord.”

“‘Drink your blood’,” Harry slurred. “Didn’t even consider eating Dumbledore.”

“What a git,” Fred said, confused over the entire conversation and beginning to worry about Harry’s state of mind. “And then what happened Darlin?”

“The sword cut the hedges,” Harry said, suddenly remembering the random detail from the beginning of the third task. “Fwoop, cut right through them.”

“He’s delirious from physical and magical exhaustion,” Barty yelled over his shoulder. “Just keep him awake and talking and I’ll deal with him next.”

“I saw your sword cut through the hedges,” Fred assured him. “Laughed my arse off. The whole crowd did. Bagman said ‘I wonder which champion that was?’ And Ron yelled, ‘like nobody knows!’”

“Bagman is a bad man,” Harry said. “But he paid you so he lives. The world gets jokes and Bagman lives.”

“He’s past delirium,” Sirius murmured to the man he believed to be Alastor Moody. “He’s going to be catatonic any minute now.”

“I need two more minutes,” ‘Moody’ grit out. “Two Merlin damned minutes.”

“Spider ate Cedric,” Harry giggled breathlessly to Fred from their position on the floor. “Huuuge spider!”

“Diggory’s fine,” Fred told him. “His leg was mangled, and his arm looked like hell, but Madame Pomfrey had him in the medical tent when you came back. Fleur and Viktor are fine too. Just pissed you won.”

“I wooon,” Harry sang softly. “Three things to do: win, kill Timmy, kill Pettigrew. Did two. That’s good, yeah? Over fifty cents?”

“Think it’s sixty-six percent,” Fred corrected him with a worried frown. He pulled Harry’s head off his chest and checked his eyes, something his mum always did when one of his siblings were sick. Harry’s pupils were barely bigger than the end of a quill, and the whites of his eyes were nearly entirely red.

“Sixty six,” Harry repeated slowly. “Siiiiixtyyyy six.”

“Done!” Barty conjured a mask to cover Snape’s face and provide constant flow of oxygen to him and turned to Harry. “C’mere lad.”

“Saved Snape?” Harry asked.

“You saved Snape,” Sirius confirmed. “He’s going to be fine. Scarred, angry, and bitter as usual, but he’ll be fine.”

“Oh good,” Harry smiled widely.

Fred caught him tightly as Harry’s entire body went limp in his arms, the locking spell on the door dissolving with Harry’s prompt delivery in to unconsciousness.

“Brill,” Sirius sighed as loud voices in the corridor could now be heard.

Apparently Harry’s odd phrase was catching.



“Wake them now! We need to hear what happened from them!”

“Touch either of them and I’ll cut off your wrinkled fingers old man.”

“Susan! Do not speak to the Headmaster like that.”

“Sorry Auntie. Touch Harry and I’ll have a team of law enforcement arrest you for meddling in the medical care of a minor with a legal guardian.”

“Better. Thank you.”



“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?!”

“I know it is difficult to believe, but Severus’ mark does not lie.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it from one of them.”



Snape, on the ground, his face so bloodless even his lips were white, “Flee, Harry, flee.”

“Pup, are you awake?”

Save Snape.

“Wake up Harry, everyone’s safe.”

Harry blinked slowly as the bright, sunlit, hospital wing came slowly in to a blurry kind of view. He lifted one heavy hand up and rubbed his eyes before reaching around for his glasses, which Sirius carefully placed on his face.

“You up?”

“S’pose so,” Harry mumbled, squinting warily around the hospital wing, which was blessedly empty aside from Sirius who was curled up in a thick red chair beside him. “Where’s Snape?”

“There,” Sirius pointed towards the bed beside his that Harry had assumed was empty. Harry made to move to his feet but Sirius put a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Hold on, he’s fine,” he said. “Stay there and look.”

Sirius got up and moved to the adjacent bed and pulled the privacy curtains back. Harry sat up and studied Snape’s relaxed face, his fluttering eyelashes, and the way his chest moved up and down in time with his deep and steady breaths.

“Good,” Harry released a heavy sigh and laid back down. He kept his eyes on Snape though, waiting to make sure he woke up as well. “How long was I asleep?”

“Only nine hours,” Sirius told him. “You got back at eleven last night, and it’s barely eight now. You could do with some more sleep, but you were shouting in your sleep. Figured I’d wake you up.”

“Ta,” Harry muttered. He would be embarrassed by Sirius hearing him shout in his sleep, a private detail about his poor sleep habits that only Theo, Luna, and Fred knew previously, but Harry knew Sirius had a lot of intrusive thoughts in his sleep as well, so it was less embarrassing for him to hear it than it would be if it were someone else. “What’d I miss?”

“Chaos,” Sirius chuckled quietly as he left Snape’s curtains parted enough for Harry to see him and returned to his chair. “Utter chaos pup. You sure know how to brew it.”

“Snape says it’s a true talent,” Harry said. “What happened?”

“Dumbledore was screaming that Voldemort’s back, the Minister was screaming that Dumbledore’s mad, Moody was pacing around growling a lot, and there’s a permanent scorch mark on the hospital doors from where you locked them and Susan tried to burn her way inside.”

Fuck.

Moody. Barty. Timmy. Dumbledore. Fudge.

He needed to think. He needed a plan. He needed...

“I need Theo, Susan, and Moody. And privacy, Sirius. I need them now and I need privacy for ten minutes,” Harry said as quickly and seriously as he could.

“I’m on it,” Sirius winked before transforming and bounding out the hospital doors as Grim.

Harry had to think. Had to think of a plan right then and there.

It had to keep his spies safe. It had to kill off Barty. It had to get people to start preparing for the war Harry was sure was going to break out soon, because Timmy was surprisingly dangerous.

Harry hadn’t actually expected to be faced with that last night.

He hadn’t expected to be stunned in the back.

He didn’t even know you could tie a person up with ropes warded against magic.

And...

Harry looked over at Snape’s sleeping face.

And Snape paid the price for it again.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

Snape was going to finally get rid of him as soon as he woke up. And Harry didn’t blame him.

He was just as arrogant as Snape accused him of being before.

Harry was mentally beating the hell out of himself when Susan came bursting through the hospital doors, startling Harry to his feet-

Where the hell is my knife?!

-closely followed by Theo, Moody, and Grim.

“Want me to leave?” Sirius asked, transforming back to his human self.

“Can you keep everyone out?” Harry asked.

“Oh I can do that,” Sirius grinned sharply and held his wand up. “I’m more than just a pretty face Pup.”

Susan waited until Sirius was outside and Harry warded the door against eavesdroppers before she ran up to him and hugged him with one arm and smacked him in the head with the other.

“You god damned fucking idiot!” she said. “What were you thinking?!”

“He clearly wasn’t,” Theo said. “You thought a one on one with Timmy was going to pan out for you? Stupid move Potter.”

”You don’t get your weapons back until you tell us everything,” Susan hissed. “I am pissed as hell at you. Idiot.”

“Alright I’m an idiot, shut up, we need to talk,” Harry said quickly. “Timmy’s back.”

“Nobody’s going to believe you,” Susan said. “Not without proof.”

“Well I’m hardly a fuckin’ liar, am I?” Harry sneered. “Snape’ll say it too.”

“Dumbledore’s been saying it all night and it doesn’t mean a damn thing laddie,” Barty said. “Everyone believes you were kidnapped by whoever put you in the tournament, but they don’t believe it was the D- Timmy.”

Theo turned and gave Barty a considering look.

“Who are you?” he asked calmly. “Because I’m sick of people pretending to be the wrong person to get close to Harry.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Harry said. “Focus. What do we do now? We need a plan. And... and apparently I’m crap at making plans, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Susan and Theo both said.

“Here’s what you should do,” Barty said, “I’ve been thinking about it since the moment you disappeared...”



When the Minister and Dumbledore arrived an hour later, Harry was surrounded by all of his friends and was ready with his story.

He glanced at Snape one last time and hoped that he would approve.

... he also hoped he woke up soon.

Sirius, Barty, and Madame Pomfrey all said he would. Barty gave him dreamless sleep last night and he was just sleeping it off. But Harry would breathe easier once he was awake and yelling.

“Harry! How are you?” the Minister cried, twirling his bowler hat in his hands as he stared down at Harry worriedly. “You gave us all quite a fright last night!”

“I know,” Harry said as ‘meekly’ (Theo’s stupid idea) as he could. “It was terrifying.”

“Harry, can you tell us what happened?” Dumbledore said, his eyes untwinkling and grave. “From the moment you touched the cup, if you would.”

“Harry’s exhausted,” Lupin said sharply. “He had complete physical and magical exhaustion less than twelve hours ago. He needs rest and quiet.”

Harry was surprised when he looked up at Lupin. That was quite the defense of him. Lupin smiled down at him kindly and Harry felt a brief flash of guilt for getting him fired.

Then he shoved that down. Way, waaay, deep down. He couldn’t keep feeling guilty for every decision he made. It was a quick way to second guess his instincts and hesitation could get you killed as easily as making the wrong choice would.

“I understand,” Dumbledore said, “but we need to know.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “I can tell them.”

Harry took a deep breath and glanced quickly at Theo one last time. Theo’s face didn’t change, but Harry saw his eyes flick up to the ceiling and down to his boots just once.

Everyone was ready.

Show time.

“The cup was a portkey,” Harry said. “I grabbed it-“

“So you did win?” Neville smirked. “Diggory was going on about getting to the cup first.”

“He bloody well did not,” Harry said. “He was fighting a spider when I got the cup.”

“You got the cup first, it was a portkey, then what?” Dumbledore asked, his voice calm and even despite his obvious impatience.

“Then I was taken to a graveyard,” Harry said. “And stunned in the fucking back.”

Fred and Hermione both sucked in angry breaths.

“I wondered how someone would get a jump on you,” Draco said thoughtfully. “Next time you steal my clothes I’m doing that.”

“And I’ll kill you,” Harry smirked.

“The rest, if you would,” Dumbledore said.

Harry wondered if he could get Dumbledore to break his composure in front of the Minister.

He was pretty sure he could.

“So I was stunned in the back, and when I woke up I was tied to something,” Harry said. “And Peter Pettigrew was there.”

“Pettigrew was the one who took you?” the Minister asked. “Harry I am so sorry-“

“No, Pettigrew was just following orders,” Harry said. “I don’t think he was smart enough to put me in the tournament, enchant the cup, and kidnap me, was he?”

“He wouldn’t be,” Sirius said. “Pettigrew was an idiot.”

“Only got two NEWTS, yeah?” Harry asked.

“Exactly,” Lupin laughed.

“Harry, if you would focus please,” Dumbledore said.

Harry caught Fred’s eye at the foot of his bed and had a rare moment where they seemed to read each other’s mind.

“Of course sir,” Harry said innocently. “So Pettigrew was mad, kept talking about bringing back his Master-“

“His master?” Fred interrupted with faux-shock. “Who?”

“Voldemort,” Dumbledore nodded. “It was on Voldemort’s orders that you were taken.”

“He is not back!” Fudge said harshly. “You could be arrested for attempting to incite national panic if you do not cease with that nonsense Dumbledore.”

“Harry will tell you,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Go on Harry.”

“Er... okaaay,” Harry said slowly. “So Pettigrew wanted to kill me to try and bring Voldemort back to life. He said ‘I have to follow orders’, over and over. Then he summoned a bunch of blokes in black robes and masks, like the ones at the World Cup.”

“Death Eaters?” Fudge yelped. “Merlin Harry. Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m sure Pettigrew summoned a bunch of blokes in robes and masks,” Harry shrugged. “But-“

“How?”

Harry blinked up at Dumbledore.

“How what?” he asked.

“How was Peter able to summon the Death Eaters?” Dumbledore asked him.

“Why does that matter?” Sirius asked.

“Because Peter should not be able to do so,” Dumbledore said. “I believe only Voldemort has the power to summon his followers through their mark.”

“It’s weird you know that,” Susan said with a suspicious glare. “Maybe we should check your arm.”

Dumbledore smiled gently at her, though he didn’t look amused in the slightest.

“Of course,” he said, sliding his robe sleeves up and holding his bare forearms out. “This may be the first time I have ever been accused of being a follower of Voldemort.”

“Pft,” Blaise scoffed quietly, but not quietly enough for Dumbledore to not hear.

“Well I dunno about Dumbledore being a Death Eater,” Harry said, “but Pettigrew just touched his left arm with his wand and then people started apparating to the graveyard.”

Dumbledore looked disbelieving, but the Minister was hanging on Harry’s every word.

“And then he untied me-“

“You didn’t untie yourself?” Neville asked.

“Couldn’t,” Harry grimaced as he remembered the irritating ropes around him, “fuckin’ enchantments.”

“Ropes soaked in an enchantment against wandless magic,” Lupin groaned. “I wouldn’t believe Peter could brew the potion required for that.”

Harry ignored him, but he saw Sirius step on his foot very harshly.

“So he untied me, and said he was going to kill me-“

“Why not keep you tied up?” Fred winked. “Would make it easier to kill you.”

“Only two NEWTS, remember?” Harry smirked.

“HARRY!” Dumbledore yelled, drawing thirteen sets of eyes to him. “Please. Time is of the essence here.”

“He’s been through a traumatic event Albus,” Sirius said coldly. “Refrain from yelling at my godson again or I’ll have Poppy ask you to leave.”

“Merlin, Albus,” the Minister looked embarrassed and patted Harry’s foot gently. “Go ahead Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry gave him the shy smile that worked well for poor orphan Harry. “So he untied me, and told the Death Eaters he was going to kill me to bring Voldemort back to life. He had a potion and everything. He got in a good swipe-“ Harry flashed him his newly scared arm quickly, he’d rather nobody stare at his other scars too long, “-and then we started dueling.”

“You dueled Peter?” Dumbledore asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

“Pettigrew and the blokes in masks,” Harry said. “And then Snape showed up.”

“How many Death Eaters Pup?” Sirius asked.

“Ten,” Harry guessed randomly. Ten on two sounded better than Harry and Snape losing to one guy. “So it was me and Snape and ten of them, and Pettigrew kept saying he was waiting for someone, someone who put my name in the Goblet and who made the plan.”

“Who?” Theo asked.

“He said Barty Crouch,” Harry said. “He kept saying ‘DON’T KILL HIM! WAIT FOR BARTY! WAIT FOR CROUCH!”

“Mister Crouch?” Fudge gasped. “No!”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I think his son, he said ‘he didn’t escape Azkaban to fail our master now!’ Unless,” Harry pretended to hesitate, “unless Mister Crouch used to be in Azkaban?”

“Nope,” Susan shook her head. “Just his son. But he died there Harry, he couldn’t have done this.”

“No, he’s here somewhere,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Pettigrew definitely said that. He said that Barty Crouch was waiting at Hogwarts and they were going to bring back their Master.”

“Harry, lad, you must be confused,” Fudge said kindly. “Barty Crouch Junior died in Azkaban, and Crouch Senior has been missing for weeks.”

“I’d ask Moody,” Theo said. “It’s always the defense professors trying to kill Harry, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore still looked skeptically down at Harry, as if disappointed in his story, as Harry thought he would be, but Sirius took the bait as Theo had said that someone would.

“He called him Sev,” Sirius said to Fred. “Last night, remember? And Alastor Moody hates Snape.”

“But Barty Crouch Junior was his best friend...” Lupin said. “C’mon Pads.”

Harry hid his smile as Sirius and Lupin tore out of the Hospital Wing. He hadn’t considered they’d be the first to put together the pieces, but he was happy they had.

Though he wasn’t surprised that the two Gryffindors were the ones to go running after a possible Death Eater.

“You better go with them Albus,” Fudge said nervously. “Alastor won’t like being confronted.”

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head down at Harry.

“When Severus wakes up, we will hear the truth,” he said in a way that caused Susan, Theo, and Fred to all bristle before he too left.

“Does he think I’m lying?” Harry blinked up at the Minister. “Snape almost died protecting me, bit rude of Dumbledore to downplay his act of bravery.”

“Albus thinks He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named somehow rose from the dead and attacked you last night,” Fudge sighed.

“He sounds mad,” Susan said innocently. “It’s shocking he’s still allowed to run a school.”

“Well he is rather old,” Hermione said. “He can’t stay sharp forever.”

The Minister was nodding along with the girls as they discussed the merits of replacing the Headmaster.

Harry stayed quiet and just ran his hand absently down Luna’s soft arm. Luna hadn’t said anything yet, she’d just curled up like a cat in Harry’s side as soon as they arrived. At least Harry knew when she started talking, she wouldn’t yell.

Unlike Snape.

Who was still snoring softly in the bed beside Harry’s.

“Harry, lad, is there anything else you can tell me about last night?” Fudge asked, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. “Anything at all to help us find Pettigrew.”

Harry took a deep breath and prepared himself.

Snape wouldn’t take the fall this time.

Harry had already accidentally confessed last night, and they needed the Ministry focused on Barty.

“He’s dead,” Harry said quietly. “I- I killed him. I’m sorry,” Harry gulped dramatically loud and looked down in his lap. “I didn’t mean to; but he cut Snape open and I was trying to get the cup and... and it just happened.” Harry peeked up at the minister with his eyes as wide and frightened as he could make them. “I’m ready,” he said, holding his wrists out.

“Ready for what?” Fudge asked bewildered.

“You have to arrest me now, yeah?” Harry said. “I understand. I’m ready.”

If Susan was wrong, and Harry really was arrested right now, he was going to be so pissed.

Stunning the Minister and going on the run wouldn’t exactly help him run for Minister later, would it?

“Arrest you?” Fudge asked. “Why would I arrest you? Harry, you killed a dangerous man who was trying to kill you! A dangerous convict who betrayed your parents! I’d be surprised if you didn’t get an award for your actions!”

Harry perked up at that and gave Fudge a charming smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Nothing of it lad, nothing of it,” Fudge smiled down at him.

They spoke quietly for a few more moments before Sirius and Lupin came bursting back in the Hospital Wing, followed by Dumbledore who was levitating...

Oh.

The real Alastor Moody.

Harry kept forgetting about him.

“Merlin!” Fudge’s eyes were wide as galleons as Dumbledore placed Moody’s body on a bed. “What happened?!”

“Remus, fetch Poppy if you would,” Dumbledore said. “The true Alastor Moody has been detained in his own trunk as since August.”

“Oh no,” Susan said in faux-surprise. “So who was teaching defense and casting imperio on us all?”

“Casting imperio on you?” Fudge asked sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Moody said Dumbledore gave him permission to cast the unforgivables in front of us and teach us to throw off the imperio,” Blaise said smoothly. “It’s been rather mad.”

“Very mad,” Draco added. “He just kept casting it on the kids who couldn’t throw it off.”

“Albus! What in Merlin’s name?!” Fudge yelped. “What is going on in this school?! You and I are going to have a very long talk about how you run things around here!”

“If you wish,” Dumbledore bent his head towards Fudge, but his eyes were cold when he looked at Harry.

“Potter.”

Harry’s eyes flew over and saw Snape was awake now and struggling to sit upright.

“Snape!” Harry felt a tightness in his chest he hadn’t known was there suddenly loosen. “Fuck. Finally.”

“Language,” Snape said with a groan. “What is going on here?”

“Barty Crouch Junior,” Sirius told him. “He was disguised as Moody.”

“Indeed?” Snape said with a glance towards Harry. “That is troubling.”

“Where is he now?” Fudge asked, pulling his wand out. “I’ll call Amelia and have her team arrest him right now.”

“Gone,” Lupin said, re-entering the wing alongside Madame Pomfrey. “He had a portkey in his office and he disappeared after bragging about his actions this year.”

“I have clearly missed quite a bit,” Snape said, rising to his feet. “Harry, fill me in.”

“Er...” Harry hadn’t counted on Snape waking up in the middle of his story.

Read my mind, he thought intently towards Snape as he carefully lowered his occlumency shields. Read my fucking mind.

“Well I told them about Pettigrew kidnapping me and calling the Death Eaters and how we dueled all ten of them-“

“Eleven,” Snape interrupted evenly, catching Harry’s eyes with a searching look in his own. Harry felt his cool and calm presence in his mind and tried to pull up all of Barty’s plan for him.

“If was ten masked Death Eaters, along with Pettigrew, that we dueled last night.”

“You’re corroborating Harry’s story?” Dumbledore asked sharply as he was shoved away from the real Moody by Madame Pomfrey. “You told me last night that you believed Voldemort had Harry.”

“A mistake made by a panicked guardian,” Snape said calmly. “I also thought perhaps it could have been Black, the Tooth Fairy, and a myriad of other impossible situations. I apologize for causing panic, I felt my arm burn and jumped to erroneous conclusions.”

“Of course, you were worried about Harry,” Fudge said kindly. “Nobody blames you Severus.”

“But what happened with Barty?” Fred asked. “Harry’s a hero, Snape’s a hero, Harry’s probably grounded, that’s old news.”

“Barty admitted to escaping Azkaban, he said his father helped him.” Lupin glanced at Fudge, who sighed and rubbed his face at that. “And then he said he killed his father and came up with the plan to kidnap Harry and kill him to bring back V-Voldemort.”

“This is going to be a mess,” Fudge groaned. “Black, Lupin, could you come back to the Ministry with me? I’ll need your memories to get this all sorted.”

Black frowned down at Harry.

“I’d rather stay,” he said slowly. “Harry’s been through hell, hasn’t he?”

“Harry has Snape,” Lupin said softly. “Let’s go help the Minister Pads.”

“We’ll be back tomorrow night regardless,” the Minister said. “I still have to present Harry his award for winning the tournament.”

And at that- Harry truly did perk up.

In all the madness that followed his return to Hogwarts- he had forgotten about the champion ceremony.

“Poppy, if I keep Harry with me, may he be released?” Snape asked after the Minister left with Sirius and Lupin.

“I need to speak with you Severus,” Dumbledore said, interrupting Madame Pomfrey’s agreement. “There has been a grave misunderstanding-“

“Not now,” Snape interrupted him this time. “My ward has been through a traumatic event, I am tired. We will be retiring to my quarters. I will be available after breakfast tomorrow to discuss last nights events with you.”

Harry’s friends immediately got to their feet when Harry did, until Snape scowled heavily at them all.

“As Harry will be available after breakfast to create mayhem with you all. Harry, come along.”

Harry shrugged at his friends and quickly followed behind Snape’s much quicker and longer strides.

If Snape wanted privacy to yell at him- he’d have it.

It was probably the least Harry could do.



“We have decided to outright create an enemy of Albus?” Snape asked immediately once they went in his sitting room.

“Barty’s idea,” Harry explained as Snape sunk down heavily on his sofa. “He said the Minister would never believe Timmy’s back, he likes ‘his peaceful campaign’ too much, and that we should find a different way to achieve our goals. Plus, he said Dumbledore didn’t care if I died last night, and I threatened to kill him before, so I figure the lines are drawn, yeah?”

“Ugh,” Snape rubbed his face and Harry realized he still looked exhausted. He summoned a pain reliever and Snape’s dark brown bottle of bourbon. Harry held them both up and raised a brow, “Which do you want?”

“Both,” Snape said drily. “You are driving me to alcoholism Harry.”

Harry shifted on his feet in front of Snape as he waited for the man to finish off both drinks he gave them.

“I apologize,” he finally said when Snape looked ready. “I fucked up again, didn’t I? And you got hurt... because I’m arrogant and stupid.”

“Correct,” Snape said calmly. “You once again kept a secret from me, put yourself in an incredible amount of danger, you likely would have died had I not arrived, and I was injured.”

Harry resisted the urge to duck his head. If he was man enough to get himself in this position, he was man enough to keep his head up when Snape started yelling.

“What happened after I fell unconscious?” Snape asked.

“Er... I summoned the cup, killed Pettigrew, brought us back, Barty saved you, I had magical exhaustion, and-“

“Stop.” Snape held his hand up and slowly raised his wand. “Harry, my apologies, I was under the impression you were merely in the hospital wing due to physical exhaustion and mental trauma. May I administer a diagnostic charm to ensure your magic is not still depleted?”

“Alright then,” Harry shrugged. Snape casting diagnostics on him was old news honestly. He thought he’d done at least a dozen since Harry’s first year. He waited patiently as Snape stood to tap his head with his wand and as he sat back down to read the results.

“Excellent,” he said. “There is nothing amiss on your diagnostic and your Lithium levels are still consistent. Please, continue.”

“So I had magical exhaustion and fell asleep. I woke up and Sirius said you were fine, which I didn’t believe until I saw you, and then I sent him to get Barty and Theo and Susan. I figured I needed a plan and I’m bad at them, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Snape said, his eyes holding the tiniest twinkle of amusement. “And Barty‘s plan involved setting himself up as the Dark Lord who had you kidnapped last night?”

“Yeah, I think he was happy to get some credit,” Harry smirked. “Plus it makes Dumbledore sound insane, yelling about Timmy being alive. Plus it still gets everyone ‘vigilant for a darker future’, and hopefully it’ll make Timmy think Barty went on the run or was quietly killed or something.”

Snape nodded along to each point, sipping his drink as he did.

“You killed Pettigrew?” he asked.

“Yeah, but listen Snape- don’t be mad about that. Because he cut my fuckin’ arm open and stunned me in the back. You know he had it coming,” Harry said seriously.

“He did,” Snape agreed. “I am not angry. Pettigrew is no loss, and a group of Death Eaters will hardly report you for the crime.”

“Er... I already told Fudge I did it,” Harry admitted, tightening his shoulders for the shouting he was sure was finally coming.

Sure enough, Snape’s eyes flew to Harry’s face and they were wide and incredulous.

“Why on Earth would you do such a thing?” he breathed. “Dear Lord Harry, are you trying to be imprisoned?!”

“No, but I accidentally admitted to it last night when I was delirious and I didn’t know if anyone would find Pettigrew or turn in his body, and I didn’t want you to take the fall again,” Harry lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “So I told Fudge I did it.”

“And he said?” Snape asked tightly.

“He said I might get an award for it,” Harry smirked proudly. “Said I stopped a dangerous dark escaped convict, didn’t I?”

“Typical,” Snape scoffed. “Potter luck has no bounds, does it?”

Harry shrugged again and waited for Snape to go off. After a long minute or so he shifted impatiently, he really was still knackered.

“Sit down brat,” Snape said. “We can talk while you sit.”

“I’d rather stand,” Harry said as evenly as he could. “But if you wanted to go ahead and yell now, that’d be brill. Just... get it over with, yeah?”

“Why am I yelling?” Snape asked him, his face impassive and calm.

“For... for all that stuff you just said,” Harry felt off guard here. “Keeping a secret, getting you hurt, all of it.”

“Do I truly yell at you every time you behave as you have been conditioned to behave?”

Harry had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so he said nothing. He just tilted his head curiously and kept a close eye on Snape.

“Harry, I want you to trust me. I want us to have no secrets, no schemes, no plots, no lies hidden between us. However, I recognize that you have kept your own counsel for your entire life, and therefor I will not be screaming at you,” Snape told him. “What I will be doing instead is consistently reminding you that every choice you make has a consequence, and I believe you see now that you are not always the one who pays those consequences.”

“I wanted to tell you,” Harry said quickly, needing Snape to understand that. “I didn’t want to lie to you, or keep it from you, but you wouldn’t have let me go and I needed to try and stop Timmy.”

“And instead, what happened?”

“You got hurt,” Harry mumbled. “And Timmy got away.”

“You were also injured and we were incredibly lucky to escape with our lives Harry,” Snape said. “You are reckless to the point of suicidal. You told me that you have plans for you life, correct?”

Harry nodded, unsure where Snape was going with this.

“You understand that your own thoughtless actions could have led to your death, and those plans would then be unfulfilled, yes?”

“I didn’t think I’d die,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t think Timmy was really that strong.”

“That is because you, my child, are an idiot,” Snape said, sounding only a little fond as he admonished him. “A brave, brilliant, reckless, idiot.”

“That... that’s an odd insult,” Harry said, slowly sitting down beside Snape since it didn’t sound like he was being yelled at today.

“You are an odd child,” Snape said smoothly. “Insults and compliments alike require an equal amount of oddness.”

Harry waited for a moment before blurting,

“Not mad?”

“Not mad,” Snape said. “Though I am curious, when did you learn legilimency?”

”I- er- I didn’t?” Harry said, his brain tired and confused. “Who said I did?”

“Did you not force yourself in my mind earlier with the message ‘read my fucking mind?’” Snape asked.

Oh.

”I didn’t know that was legilimency,” Harry said truthfully. “I was just thinking really hard in your direction.”

”Idiot,” Snape sighed.

“I am an idiot,” Harry admitted, he heard it often enough. “But, er, are you sure you still want to be my guardian? Because... I think Timmy might really want you dead now for it,” Harry told him, giving him a fair warning.

“Timmy would have to kill me before I let Black take over your care,” Snape said. “And even then I may attempt to become the first ever ghost guardian and simply haunt you for the remainder of your life.”

“Brill.” Harry laid his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes, relaxing in the peaceful environment of Snape’s sitting room.

“Hey Snape,” he mumbled.

“Yes?”

“I won.”

“Fucking Potter luck,” Snape sighed. “Sleep brat.”

Harry chuckled lightly before drifting off back to sleep, comfortable in Snape’s presence and secure in his current safety.

***

The next morning Harry smiled as he read the letter Sevvie brought him;

P,
Safe. Worked as planned. See you soon.
-B.

Barty was a genius.

All Harry’s work to recruit him hadn’t gone to waste. Barty was a genius, just as smart as Snape always described him as, and he was Harry’s.

Not Timmy’s. Harry’s.

He didn’t kill Timmy. But he killed Pettigrew. And he couldn’t pull off Barty’s death, yet, but Timmy would hopefully think he’d disappeared and went on the run.

He wouldn’t find him at Harry’s house anyway.

The Minister thought Barty was a dark, mad, wizard on the loose and ready to wreck havoc on the wixen world.

‘The next Dark Lord’, he’d called him.

Susan said her Aunt was preparing the DMLE and sending notices out to wixen and setting up more patrols in public places. Apparently Barty yelled some nonsense about targeting muggleborns and ‘anyone impure’ in an effort to get the ministry to begin protecting them.

Harry really wasn’t sure how his side could lose the upcoming battles that everyone was sure would break out- his gang had the most brilliant people Harry had ever met in it.

Plus, as a bonus Harry hadn’t expected, the entire Ministry thought Dumbledore was going insane, and Harry had his fingers crossed that the old man would be out of Hogwarts soon.

“All’s well that ends well,” Harry cooed to Sevvie. “Brill, yeah?”

Sevvie hooted in a way that was definitely an agreement.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next:
If people could quit rewarding Potter when he did something incredibly dim witted and dangerous that would be fucking great, thanks.
(The final chapter for this book! Followed by a sneak preview of year five!)

98%

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, guests and ghosts- another year has ended!”

The Great Hall broke in to an ear splitting cheer, the likes of which Severus had hardly imagined the night beginning with.

“Before I leave you with my parting words of wisdom, the Minister of Magic has an announcement for you all,” Albus said, smiling benignly to Fudge before taking his seat.

“Ahem,” Fudge cleared his throat and beamed merrily out to the overtly crowded Hall.

“Although there were a few glitches this year-“

Several people seated at the Slytherin table chuckled and gave Potter looks.

“-I am pleased to be here tonight to announce the Champion of the 1994/95 Triwizard Tournament...”

~~~
”You and I are both aware that the boy is lying Severus,” Albus said that morning, frowning at Severus from his gilded desk chair. “I don’t understand why you allowed him to do so in the presence of Cornelius.”

“I am not aware of any lies Harry told,” Severus lied calmly, keeping his eyes locked on Albus’. “As I was there, and you were not, I believe Harry shared the details as he best recalled them.”

It was a cunning enough plan in Severus’ opinion. Clearly something Potter had help with.

“We both know that Voldemort has returned,” Albus said harshly. “Why would you not inform Cornelius of that?!”

“Did you not attempt to do so?” Severus asked, no longer cowed by the man that was willing to let Potter die last night. “I was under the impression that you had told him that multiple times.”

“He will not believe it without proof!” Albus thundered, power cackling around his body eerily. “Proof that you-“

“Yes?” Severus interrupted him. “What proof do you believe I possess?”

“Anything! Anything at all would be better than the lies you allowed the boy to spread! Barty Crouch Junior was working under Voldemort’s instructions!”

Wrong.

Barty was operating under Potter’s instructions and was now under his protection within Spinner’s End.

“I was unaware you were present Albus,” Severus said coolly. “I could have used your assistance against those who were attempting to kill my child of course.”

“James and Lily’s child.”

“Excuse me?” Severus hissed, shocked by Albus’ audacity. “Repeat that, Albus, because I am quite sure I misheard you. Perhaps a side effect of my recent trip into near death.”

“The boy is James and Lily’s child,” Albus said. “You have gotten attached to their child beyond what I expected.”

“Pardon me for the mistake,” Severus sneered, furious. “But as I have been looking out for the child for nearly four years now, I believe I will claim him as mine as well.”

“He will not survive the conflict with Voldemort.”

“Harry Potter will grow to exceed even you in his long lifespan!” Severus yelled, infuriated by the insinuation. “He will know more years of life and more joy than you could ever imagine!”

“Oh Severus,” Albus shook his head in a pitying way. “I wish you could be correct.”

“Tell me why I am not,” Severus demanded. “Tell me why you believe Harry will die.”

“I don’t think I will,” Albus said, his voice now reflecting the chill permeating the room. “I believe this is where we part ways Severus. I have no use for a man too cowardly to admit the truth.”

“Excellent,” Severus gracefully got to his feet and smiled blandly at Albus. “Harry has received even more offers for admissions to other schools; the last even came with my choice of a teaching post,” he said truthfully. The Contessa desperately wanted Potter in Italy. “I think perhaps I will teach defense while Potter gains new foreign friends and completes his OWLS. We will remain here for two days longer then will darken your doorstep never again.”

“You would leave my protection for the boy?”

Severus laughed outright as he paused in the office doorway;

“I thought you knew me, Albus, but I can see now that you have never understood me- there is nothing I would not do for Harry. Good day.”



By lunch, Severus received a note delivered by Fawkes imploring him and Potter to remain at Hogwarts.

Though Severus had no true intention of leaving, he replied that he would speak with HIS child and consider it.
~~~

“HARRY POTTER!”

Potter got to his feet to an outrageously long, and loud, round of applause.

“GO HARRY!” Black and Lupin shouted as Potter strutted his way to the Head Table, no doubt seeing the same image of James Potter that Severus himself could see in this moment.

Potter took the stage and walked past Ludo Bagman, his face still scarred and twisted in a begrudging smile as he clapped, past Minerva, who had a true look of pride on her face, and past Albus, whose disdain towards Potter was only visible through his expressively cold blue eyes.

“Harry, on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons School of Magic, and Durmstrang School for Wizards- I am pleased to present you with the Triwizard Trophy and your grand prize of 1,000 galleons!”

Potter only hesitated for a moment before he grabbed the handle of the ridiculously oversized trophy that had portkeyed him to a near death only nights ago and held it high to the deafening roar of his fellow students.

Potter looked to Severus once, his green eyes searching, and Severus graced him with a genuinely proud smile and a curt nod.

It was impressive that Potter had won the tournament, though it would have been better on Severus’ health if Potter had safely scraped by mediocrely.

As if Potter has done a single mediocre thing in his life, Severus sighed internally as Potter’s bright smile was moved from Severus towards his shouting friends and family. Potter only knows extremes and grandiosity. He could never be ‘mediocre’.

“And,” Fudge put a grandfatherly hand on Potter’s shoulder as he the cheers in the Hall quieted to hear him speak, “Many of you have read the articles in the Prophet outlining the events that happened the night of the third task.”

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes at the complimentary drivel Skeeter had wrote about himself and Potter.

’... providing proof that the Sorting Hat is hardly all knowing, as two of the bravest men I have the privilege to know are both proud Slytherin’s.’

Ridiculous.

“And due to his justified actions against Peter Pettigrew, a convicted murderer who escaped from the Ministry and had evaded our tasks forces, I am pleased to present Harry James Potter with an Order of Merlin, Second Class.”

Severus took a deep drink of his wine as Potter received another blaring ovation, complete with several whistles from Frederick, Black, Draco, and Ronald.

Order of Merlin, Second Class.

Sure.

When Severus admitted to killing a Death Eater, he was arrested.

Potter does it, and receives an award.

How was Severus meant to dissuade the definitely youngest serial killer in the history of the United Kingdon when Potter never received any true personal consequences for his actions?

He justifiably killed the muggle rapist before he even reached puberty and walked away.

He killed Quirrell, albeit possibly by accident, and won the House Cup in his first year.

He drove a sword through Lockhart’s neck and buried his body beneath a pile of boulders in his second year and was given an award for services to the school.

He killed Theodore’s father and gained a roommate, devoted ally, and no legal or personal consequences.

He killed Avery, and Severus was arrested.

Though Potter had truly seemed remorseful of Severus’ arrest.

And now? He killed Pettigrew, which was no true loss to the world in Severus’ opinion, and was heralded as a hero and given a blasted Order of Merlin.

This hardly takes in to account his compliance and silence as Barty killed his own father.

Severus repressed a sigh and clapped politely as Fudge pinned a silver award to the front of Potter’s, proudly puffed out, chest.

If Potter luck could be bottled- it could bring about permanent world peace, resolve world hunger, and house every homeless person... Or, much more likely, it could become a weapon of mass destruction.

“Before I return you all to Albus, I have one more award to give tonight,” Fudge said after the hall had finally, mostly, fell silent once more. “For his bravery, dedication to the safety of others, and for assisting Harry in bringing down a dangerous criminal; I would like to award this Order of Merlin, Third Class to Professor Severus Tobias Snape!”

Severus looked up in utter shock, which he carefully kept clear from his face, and gracefully rose to his feet as was, apparently, expected. He moved to the Minister’s side as he was given his own round of applause.

“Congratulations Severus,” Fudge murmured as he pinned the bronze award on Severus’ chest. “You deserve this.”

Severus thanked him and nodded out in acknowledgment to the, surprisingly, enthusiastic students.

There was a time, before Potter, that Severus could have been awarded the Minister’s position itself and not a single student would clap for him. And now?

Smiles and cheers were being shared easily for his ‘accomplishment’.

Severus did not even recall the last time he had been called a ‘dungeon bat’.

Potter had ruined his reputation.

“Tried to get us both first class, but rules are rules,” Potter murmured quietly at Severus’ side as the minister spoke shortly about the dangers of ‘Lord Crouch’, which was a ridiculous title for Barty.

“Ah, perhaps another time,” Severus smirked.

“Maybe next year, yeah?”

Potter was giving him his constantly practiced ‘charming smile’ and Severus shuddered at his implications.

“Perhaps not,” he said drily. “Perhaps it will be a relatively calm year.”

Potter laughed brightly at that, and even Severus had to admit to his own foolishness.

He would have no more ‘calm years’ for...

Three more school years.



Son of a bitch.

Chapter End Notes

Stay tuned!
Sneak peek from year five and a link is coming up quick!

99%

“SNAPE!” Theodore shouted from upstairs. “GET YOUR CHILD UNDER CONTROL!”

Severus groaned as he looked mournfully down at his freshly brewed cappuccino. Reheated cappuccinos just were not the same.

“What is the problem now?” Severus groaned as he entered the boys’ room.

... and immediately saw what the problem was.

“Absolute not,” Severus groaned. “Harry, where on Earth did you acquire a King Cobra?”

Potter was laying on his bed, tenderly wrapped up in the grip of a ten foot long, dark brown cobra; and he was hissing at it lovingly in Parsletongue.

“I needed him,” Potter said, easily switching back to English. “Timmy has a snake. So I’m going to use Stevie to kill Nagini.”

“Where did you get him?” Severus repeated, ignoring the deplorable name Potter chose.

‘Sevvie’ ‘Stevie’ ‘Mister Snoop’.

Severus wished his ward would quit mocking his name at every given chance.

“What’s going on?” Barty asked, poking his head in the room. “MERLIN! Is that a King Cobra?”

“Yup.” Potter stroked the cobras head lovingly as it hissed loudly at Severus and Barty. “His name’s Stevie.”

“He’s brilliant,” Barty sighed, eyeing the reptile with the look of a man intent upon learning all there is to know about the fucking deadly snake in their home.

“Snape he’s trying to keep it in here!” Theodore cried, huddling carefully as far from Potter as possible while still remaining in the same room. “Tell him he can’t keep a King Cobra in our bedroom! It’ll kill me in my sleep!”

“Not if I tell him not to,” Potter said. The three others watched as Potter switched to Parsletongue and began carrying on a conversation with the deadly serpent.

“He says he won’t kill you unless I tell him to,” Potter smiled at Theodore after the snake hissed back at Potter. “So it’s fine.”

“IT IS NOT FINE!” Theodore shouted. “HERMIONE WON’T COME OVER WHILE ITS HERE! SNAPE! HE IS YOUR PSYCHOTIC TEENAGED WARD- THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM!”

Severus sighed heavily as Theodore shoved past him and stormed down the stairs.

Miss Granger refusing to come back to their home was almost reason enough to allow Potter to keep the snake. If Frederick Weasley held the same qualms, it would seal the deal.

Though, Severus was quite sure that any fool who fell in love with a dangerous young man such as Potter would hardly fear one of the largest and most deadly snakes in the world.

“I think we should keep it,” Barty said as he took a few slow steps towards Potter and the snake. “It’ll be like a guard venomous snake for our family.”

“We are not a family,” Severus sighed. Although, he was beginning to feel as if he were an exhausted parent with the three mad housemates he now has.

“Exactly!” Potter beamed at Barty after rolling his eyes at Severus. “I knew you’d get it.”

Of course Barty ‘got it’. Because he was as mentally ill, and possibly deranged, as Potter was.

So now Severus had to find a way to convince Potter to get rid of the cobra.

Apparently without the assistance of the other adult in the household.

“Where did it come from Harry?” he repeated once more, quite sternly.

He groaned out loud at Potter’s suddenly evasive look and mentally corrected his previous thought;

Severus now had to find a way to convince Potter to get rid of the definitely illegally imported, cobra.



~~~~~



“Have you lost your god damned mind?!” Severus yelled, drawing the eyes of Potter’s friends from their gathering place around Potter.

“What?” Lucius said defensively, sharing a bewildered look with Barty, who shrugged at him helplessly. “Potter likes weapons! He has a whole wall of them! You let him take Pettigrew’s dagger! What’s the problem here?”

Severus absolutely did not ‘let Potter’ steal a dagger from the man he killed last month.

But that was quite aside the point at present.

“The problem is that you have gifted my impulsive fifteen year old with a semi-automatic pistol,” Severus seethed.

“Which is a weapon... right?” Lucius clarified slowly. “I know it’s a muggle thing, but Borgin assured me of its rarity in the wixen world and I thought Potter may enjoy it? How is it different from the knives, swords, and spears?”

“Will it even work then? If it’s a muggle weapon?” Barty asked curiously, eyeing the gun Potter was now awkwardly handling. “If it’s muggle, it might not, right? Because of the high concentration of magic?”

BANG!

“It works!” Potter cried with a blindingly bright smile.

Severus looked at the fucking hole in the wall of their house and felt his eye beginning to twitch. He wondered which was the bigger threat to his life-

Attempting to raise Harry God Damned Potter, or being in the Top Three of the Dark Lord’s ‘To Kill’ List?

Definitely Potter, he decided quickly as Potter tossed an apple to Ronald Weasley and Severus immediately had to step in to stop what was supposed to be ‘a brill idea’ that Potter ‘saw in a movie with Susan’.

Chapter End Notes

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