average human’s Reviews > Expecto Patronum > Status Update

Not that Severus had been able to maintain his cold distance from Potter for more than two weeks regardless. He had already been quite close to calling on Potter for one of their sorely missed breakfasts, when the brat sent him a patronus.

Severus had been relieved to be alone when he received it as the startled laugh that escaped him in the face of a damned Tasmanian devil had been quite uncharacteristic.

It had been simple to reopen the line of communication between Potter and himself through their patronus messages, simple yet when they had breakfast together that next weekend and Potter agreed to Severus’ only request their feud was entirely put aside.

’I will admit that Dolores’ death does not bother me as much as your decision to not turn to me first and allow me the opportunity to handle it.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why d’you want to handle things if I can do it myself?’ Potter clarified.

‘Because you are the child, Harry. You are my ward and I would appreciate it in the future if you allowed me to act as your guardian,’ Severus told him.

‘So just get you next time I’m planning to kill a teacher?’ Potter’s tone was mocking, but his guileless eyes were squinted with confusion.

‘Precisely,” Severus said. He had dabbed any crumbs from his toast off his face and smirked at Potter. ‘Perhaps send me your devil ghost (as Potter laughingly referred to his patronus) the next time you are plotting a murder.’

Potter had laughed, agreed (‘if he remembers in the moment’), and they dropped the subject.

Severus had prioritized Potter’s mental health over his moral shortcomings years ago. As he was unable to go back in time and change his decisions, he decided to forge forward and pray to every God who cared to listen that Potter would reach adulthood before he saw the inside of Azkaban.

Of course, as Potter trailed in to the dining room with bloodshot and weary eyes, Severus wondered if he had looked past the child’s mental health as he allowed him to spend his short holiday planning for a war.

“Tea darlin?” Frederick asked, having entered the room alongside Potter.

“‘M fine,” Potter waved him off and slumped down in his seat at the head of the table, directly across from Severus.

“You look like shit,” Bones said bluntly. She poured a glass of water from the pitcher and gave it to Potter. “Headache again?”

“Yep.” Potter’s tone was clipped, but the curve in his shoulders was defensive.

“How long have you been suffering from headaches?” Severus asked. He summoned a pain reliever and levitated it to the child as he awaited a response.

“Couple of months,” Potter said nonchalantly. He raised the potion vial before throwing it back and wincing. “I’ve been nicking potions for it. But they’d probably work better if Timmy wasn’t driving me completely mad.”

Frederick, Theodore, and Granger gave Potter sympathetic looks; Severus was not so similarly empathetic.

“When you say that, in such a pointed manner, I find myself curious as to who that last part was aimed at.”

He had not forgotten the night that Potter admitted to conversing with the Dark Lord through their unexplainable mental link.

“I was telling Timmy,” Potter said casually. He looked around the table and frowned. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They still have thirty minutes,” Zabini told him. He handed Frederick the plate of sandwiches that Mavis provided them. “Mother won’t arrive until last moment. She adores the theatrics of it and despises small talk.”

An understandable concept.

Though Severus was not to be distracted at present.

“Why are you speaking with the Dark Lord?” he asked Potter. “Was the point of Occlumency not to keep him from accessing your mind?”

“The point of Occlumency was so I could sleep,” Potter said. “And if he’d leave me alone then I wouldn’t be bothering him, would I?”

Yes. He probably would. Potter was a nuisance to his friends, Severus couldn’t imagine being an adversary to the brat.

Severus was about to demand that Potter quit provoking the Dark Lord when the blasted chimes went off again.

“I’ll get it,” Longbottom offered quickly.

“It’s probably Sirius,” Potter said. He snagged a sandwich off Bones’ plate and nibbled absently on the edge of it. “Oh! Sev! Guess what?”

Severus raised a brow, silently refusing to ‘guess’. Knowing Potter it was likely something outrageous. He did just admit to mentally irritating the Dark Lord in his free time.

“Sirius asked me to be his best man this summer.” Potter puffed his chest out, preening at what had been a foregone conclusion. “I’m wearing a bow tie.”

“Congratulations,” Severus told him drily. “Do try and leave the fleas at the wedding.”

“Rude thing to say about your friend,” Potter said slyly as the other children laughed at Severus’ genuine remark.

“The mutt is not my—,”

“Hey mate.”

Even Longbottom and Lovegood lost their composure as Black himself interrupted Severus with a cheery greeting as he entered the dining room ahead of Longbottom and Lupin.

“I will return when this ridiculous farce is beginning.” Severus got to his feet and swept away for the staircase.

“It’s not a farce!” Potter yelled at his back amidst his snickering friends.

Severus ignored the child as he passed Narcissa and Draco, both of whom raised surprised blonde brows at him but had the basic manners to not comment on it.

Severus rapped his knuckles sharply on Barty’s door. “May I come in?”

“Just a minute!” Barty yelled. “Hold on please! Don’t come in!”

Peculiar.

Though Barty had always been an eccentric and intelligent person before Azkaban. It was heartening to know that Severus could once more see fragments of the personality Barty once had. ‘Displeased’ was putting it mildly when Potter initially discovered Barty and immediately moved to recruit him, though Severus was grateful for it now.

If nothing else, Barty offered a stabilizing adult presence to what was quickly devolving in to an utter madhouse.

“Sev, hey.”

Had Severus just thought that Barty offered stability to his life?

He was wrong.

“Are you feeling alright?” Severus asked slowly.

Barty was incredibly disheveled. His top was wrinkled with a stain on the chest and untucked. His blonde hair was similarly messy, standing up at odd angles as if he had ran his fingers through it frequently. And Severus had never, in twenty-four years, seen Barty with a shadow of stubble across his face.

“Fine, fine. Is it time now?” Barty asked. He stuck his head out the door and sent his blue eyes flicking around the empty hallway behind Severus.

“I believe you still have twenty minutes,” Severus told him. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Yes, just busy. I’ll be down in a bit.”

And then the door was closed quite abruptly in Severus’ face.

Perhaps Potter’s unique brand of madness and poor manners was contagious.



By the time Severus returned downstairs, with less than five minutes to spare, the dining table had been expanded and was packed.

Severus greeted Lucius, who was seated to his right, and shook his head at the irony of Potter inviting a once devoted Death Eater to a meeting at his safe house. Though, as Severus was the secret-keeper, Potter likely had no reason to fear any untoward actions from Lucius.

“How are you Severus?” Lucius asked as Severus took his seat.

“As well as can be expected,” Severus drawled. “And you?”

“The same,” Lucius said. His hand was clasped with Narcissa’s on the tables surface. Both had on masks of polite boredom, though Severus could see the evidence of prior tears in the corners of Narcissa’s eyes.

Severus imagined that despite the Malfoy’s insistence that they were content with their current accommodations, it must be weighing on them to be so divided.

“Wotcher Sev.” Nymphadora smiled at him from his right side. “How’d you manage to get this week off? I heard Flitwick said he had to stay to watch his students.”

“Minerva owed me a favor,” Severus said with a pointed look at Black who was seated next to Nymphadora. Black missed his remark though as he was leaning across Lupin to whisper quietly with Barty.

Severus made a quick account of Potter’s motley crew of alliance members.

There were an abundance of red-heads who had not been present at the last meeting. William, Charles, and George had apparently sworn in after the death of their father. The entire Weasley group was seated alongside Frederick who was in his place beside Bones; a clear indication of whose opinion Potter seeks first during these meetings.

Severus was unsure whether Frederick had eclipsed Miss Lovegood in some regard, or if the young witch sat next to Draco and his parents due to their continuing courtship.

Potter’s foreign allies, Juliana Zabini, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum, sat together beside the Weasley’s. The Contessa Zabini seemed pleased to carry along a fast paced conversation in French with Delacour while Krum rapped his knuckles on the table in what seemed to be boredom.

The auror Abbott and Hit Wizard Ritter’s were seated beside Lovegood, both solemn faced and silent. Longbottom and Granger were beside them, leaving Theodore to sit beside Potter.

It was baffling to visually account for the vast amount of people who are considered to be Potter’s inner circle of allies.

“Read Harry?” Granger asked Potter. She handed him a stack of parchment at his nod.

It was nearly amusing that the only meticulous notes Potter bothered to take were the ones for his meetings. Severus had never seen Potter write with such care before, and he graded the child’s essays and homework for the last five years.

Potter got to his feet and cleared his throat pointedly. The tired look on his face dissipated as he looked around the room with baleful eyes.

“Before we start, I wanted to let you guys know that Dumbledore is looking for someone to spy on me for him.”

Severus’ brows rose high on his forehead.

Potter was exceptionally bad at sharing information of importance with Severus.

“If he asks any of you then you should let me know as soon as you can, yeah?” Potter kept his eyes continuously moving amongst the others until Lupin coughed lightly.

“He asked me,” Lupin said. “Technically, he asked me if I would ask Sirius about your activities, but all the same. I told him I would to keep our cover within the order, but I haven’t told him anything.”

“He stopped me in the corridors before he was fired and asked if I saw you doing ‘anything suspicious’ if I’d tell him instead of Snape,” Nymphadora said.

Proving that she was not exempt at making poor choices over communication.

Severus had grown used to the witch showing up at his office after hours, typically with a drink and chips, and sharing an hour or two of conversation once a week or so. Now that she no longer bothers him to go out for drinks, her company is not entirely unbearable. She had a keen mind for magical theory and was more than happy to discuss different popular theories with him then either decimate or defend the theory regardless of Severus’ opinion.

Yet, apparently, in all that time she had not found it prudent to disclose that Albus approached her for notes on Potter’s behavior.

“Well if he asks again then don’t say a word,” Potter said flatly. “I don’t want him knowing when I use the loo, ‘kay?”

“Why not use that opportunity to feed falsehoods to him?” Lucius suggested. “You could lead him astray, have him believe you are plotting one thing and leave him open for attack from another angle.”

Blaise Zabini and Theodore were nodding along with Lucius, though Potter glanced towards Ronald and raised a brow in a silent question that none aside from the two of them were apparently privy to.

“I dunno mate,” Ronald said slowly. “Got a lot of ways it can go wrong, doesn’t it? Say he figures out he’s being lied to, then he knows at least one person in his order isn’t faithful.

It was a reasonable flaw to point out. What Harry must have found unreasonable was the look of surprise on William and Charles’ faces.

“What?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” William held his hands up innocently and smiled. “Just weird hearing Ronnie give out political advice.”

“Give out good political advice,” Charles corrected him.

“Ron’s been in the gang since the day it started,” Potter said coolly. He sat back down and quirked a brow at the eldest Weasley brothers. “He outranks you. Ron’s a... a corporal, you’re both privates.”

“Who taught Potter what military ranks are?” Severus groaned while Ronald smirked at his brothers.

“It might have came up in class one day,” Black said thoughtfully.

“Professor Black was discussing the magical influence in World War II and Harry—,”

“Immediately ranked us all,” Draco interrupted Granger with his own exasperated sigh.

“It’s a war, isn’t it?”

“Is it not,” the Contessa corrected Potter with a fond tone.

“Moving on,” Severus said lightly.

He wondered sometimes how Potter’s meetings would go if he were not here to guide it back to task. Granted, he had accidentally derailed the conversation this time, but the last thing Potter needed was an examination of muggle war tactics.

“So, what d’you think then?” Potter asked Severus. “Tell Dumbledore something fake or just tell him nothing?”

“Nothing,” Severus said. “Albus is quite able to differentiate truths from lies from those unskilled at occlumency. It is better to say nothing.”

“That’s that then,” Potter said with a sense of finality. “If anyone tells him what I’m doing then you’re out.” Potter read something off his list then cocked his head towards Black and Lupin. “Anything else from the Order?”

“Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Albus all think you’re some sort of evil Dark Lord in the making,” Black scoffed.

“That’s old news,” Abbott said, exchanging a look with Ritters. “Shacklebolt figures you’re behind a couple murders.”

“He specifically believes that Umbridge’s death is somehow on your hands,” Ritters added.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was always too smart for his own good.

“Any proof?” Potter asked, ignoring Theodore’s minute wince.

“‘Gut feeling’,” Abbott said with an inappropriate smile. “I bet you did it, but since there’s no proof then...”

“No proof, no crime,” Potter quipped with a smirk for Abbott before turning back to Black and Lupin. “Any idea where Dumbledore is now?”

“No,” Lupin answered this time. “He appears for meetings then disappears. He won’t tell us where he’s staying.”

Bones muttered something unflattering, undoubtedly disappointed in their lack of information.

“And you Mister Malfoy?” Granger asked Lucius politely. “Anything new from the Death Eaters?”

“The Dark Lord’s obsession with Potter has drastically increased since the beginning of November,” Lucius said bluntly. “He outright refuses to disclose what has built his obsession with you—,”

“You absolute, reckless moron,” Severus interrupted Lucius with a sharp reprimand at his idiot ward. The Contessa and Bones made noises of disapproval at his tone, though they were easily drowned out in Severus’ worry. “That is when you began mentally taunting him, was it not?”

“Might have been,” Potter shrugged carelessly. “Who cares?”

“Who...” Severus was not the only one staring at Potter in disbelief. ”’Who cares?’ Harry! You should not strive to be an obsession of the Dark Lords!”

“Excuse me sir,” Lovegood smiled at him from beside Draco before Potter had a chance to brush his concern off again. “It’s just that it’s not really all that different than before, is it? Harry and Timmy are tied together, they’ll always be obsessed with each other.”

“That could hurt a blokes feelings,” Frederick winked at Potter.

“I don’t see what’s funny here,” William said, proving why he was the least intolerable of the Weasley’s. “Harry, mate, you don’t want You-Know-Who more pissed.”

“Who?” Bones blinked innocently at William. “You mean Timmy?”

“Luna’s right though,” Lupin interrupted the disagreement between Bones and William. “Timmy will always be obsessed with Harry, I don’t see anything Harry could do to make it better.”

“That’s a far cry from Harry purposefully making it worse though,” Nymphadora said, proving she possesses a modicum of intellect.

This broke out in to a cascade of comments that were genuinely causing Severus to regret not bringing a drink to the meeting. Surprisingly, Theodore felt similarly.

“SHUT UP!” Theodore roared, instantly silencing the others. “Harry, can you make a new rule? Only one bloody person talks during meetings at a time.”

“Done,” Potter agreed immediately. “And since I’m not gonna stop calling Timmy a noseless dick, since that’s what he is, then this is pointless, isn’t it? Malfoy,” Potter turned back to Lucius, “what else?”

“The escaped prisoners are staying at the manor,” Lucius nearly grimaced at the statement. “I believe they have no immediate plans on relocating.”

“Good,” Zabini nodded. “Then we know where they are.”

“Why do ze aurors not go arrest zem?” Delacour asked. “We ‘ave aurors here zat could do zis, yes?”

“No.” Narcissa and the Contessa spoke at the same time before smiling politely at one another.

“It would put Lucius at risk,” the Contessa said. “He could be killed during a raid by either side, it is safest to leave the aurors out of it.”

Potter winked at Longbottom, which did not bode well in Severus’ opinion.

“Anything else?” Potter asked Lucius.

“The Dark Lord has declared you to not be harmed by his followers, only captured and brought to him if the opportunity arises.”

“Sweet of him,” Frederick muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Are there official plans to ambush Harry?” Black asked Lucius, his eyes narrowed and cautious.

“There are not,” Lucius said. “The Dark Lord wants the prophecy before he moves against Potter.”

“He’ll be dead before he gets the prophecy,” Theodore said.

“He will also be dead before he touches a hair on my Meraviglia,” the Contessa said with a beautiful smile that fooled no one.

“Speaking of which...” Bones, Theodore, and Potter turned to Barty in one simultaneous movement. “Where are we on figuring out how to kill him?” Bones asked him, raising her brows and looking remarkably like Amelia at the gesture.

Barty fidgeted under the expectorant gazes of the others and looked at Potter with an apology clear as could be in his light blue eyes.

“I need more time,” he said hesitantly. “It’s... it’s trickier than I thought.”

“What’s so tricky about it?” Theodore demanded. “What have you even done so far?”

Barty bristled at Theodore’s harsh tone. He drew himself up indignantly and glared at the boy. “More than you could possibly imagine,” he said brusquely.

“Such as?” Bones asked.

“Such as learning every single thing about him that I can,” Barty said. “I could quite likely tell you his favorite color if you wanted it.”

“I’m not sure how his favorite color will help kill him, but we’ll keep that in mind,” Frederick said with a half-smile.

Barty opened his mouth, as is to defend himself, before glancing at Potter’s cold mask of indifference and deflated.

“I’ll have more information soon,” he swore. “I’m sorry.”

“‘Kay, well, then let’s discuss it the first meeting this summer, yeah? I need you to either figure it out or let Snape do it.”

Severus was not internally preening at Potter’s confidence that he could succeed where Barty had failed. That would be absurd.

“Speaking of this summer...” Narcissa smiled at Potter. “Draco informed me that we will be residing here?”

“Er...” Potter glanced at Severus before nodding. “Yeah, I thought it might be easiest if everyone’s here. Especially if some of us are breaking in to the Manor and killing at least Bellatrix and Nagini.”

“You’re doing what?” Black sputtered.

All eyes were on Potter now, except for Severus, who was glaring at the ceiling and willing his eyelid to quit twitching.

Let Black handle this, Severus told himself. I cannot be expected to talk Potter out of all of his insane plots.

“I think he’s speaking English,” Ronald said lightly as Potter and Black had a silent stare off. “It’s a war, sometimes you have to be proactive.”

“You sure as hell aren’t,” William said baldly. “You guys are kids, you can’t go breaking in places and murdering escaped convicts.”

“Not alone.”

Clearly Black was incapable of handling anything.

And Minerva trusted this fool with students.

“Excuse me?” Severus asked Black, his soft voice silencing the others. “‘Not alone’? You approve of this?”

“Nope.” Black folded his hands on his stomach and leaned back casually. “But it’s Harry, he’s going to do it anyway, isn’t he? I suppose if I go with him then at least someone’s watching his back.”

Point, Mutt.

“What we need, is a task force...” Bones said slowly, her eyes locked on Abbott, who nodded.

“How many Death Eaters are at the manor at any given time?” Abbott asked Lucius.

“A dozen, give or take. Which hardly accounts for the Dark Lord himself who tends to spend half his time there and half his time in an unknown location.”

“Could you tell us when Timmy isn’t there?” Nymphadora asked Lucius. “If we set up a block of time, say a week, could you alert us when he leaves?”

“If Potter shows his face then we will be expected to summon him,” Lucius said, his boot brushing Severus’ food beneath the table. “Perhaps a task force without him would be safest.”

Severus decided that Lucius could be forgiven for his inappropriate birthday gift he gave Potter last summer. Potter was going to refuse to stay behind, but it was a much appreciated bit of cunning to entice him regardless.

“Or Potter goes in polyjuice,” Potter smirked. “There is that.”

“You have a very distinguished way of speaking, my Meraviglia,” the Contessa said fondly.

“Not to mention it’ll be a dead giveaway when you’re the only bloke throwing around silent and wandless curses,” Charles pointed out logically.

If only logic worked on Potter.

“Details we can work out later,” Potter waved them off before tilting his head towards Bones and whispering fiercely for a few moments.

“Alright, volunteers for this Task Force?” Bones asked.

Black, Lupin, all five Weasley’s, Delacour, Longbottom, Nymphadora, Abbott, Bones, and Theodore raised their hands.

Granger gave Theodore a very unhappy look before she raised her hand, though Theodore shook his head and pushed her hand back down.

Severus caught Narcissa out of the corner of his eye holding Draco’s hand tightly beneath the table.

If only Potter were so easily dissuaded from plots such as this.

“That’s fourteen of us then,” Potter said. “Mione, write down the names, will you?”

”I’ll need polyjuice,” Abbott said. “If something goes sideways I can’t be caught there.”

”I have a whole supply,” Barty told him. “You can use however much you need.”

”I won’t need any,” Nymphadora said brightly. Severus watched as she changed the color and length of her hair, from her customary bright pink to a more bland shade of brown that grew from chin-length to her shoulder blades.

”Noted,” Granger said, scribbling on the parchment before her.

“I vould join if you had a firm date,” Krum told Potter apologetically. “I cannot guarantee I vill be available until then.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Potter waved his hand airily. “I think we have enough people, and you’ve got you to focus on quidditch.”

Only Potter would believe quidditch to be of equal importance as an ambush on the Death Eaters.

Severus coughed lightly and met Potter’s eyes across the table. He lifted his chin slightly, a silent message he hoped Potter understood. Potter nodded back at him, a small grin curling the edges of his lips.

The child knew that when the time came, despite the lack of a raised hand, Severus would join him.

“Let’s plan that for the second week of summer,” Potter told the others. “We’ll meet the first week, firm up the plan, then everyone on the task force will attack together the second week. Yeah?”

When no one had any arguments, Potter nodded decisively. “Anything else?” he asked Granger and Bones.

“That was it,” Granger said. “Should we set our next meeting date?”

“Let’s do it the fifth of July,” Potter said. “We’ll meet here.”

“Send an owl if you can’t make it please,” Bones said to their foreign allies.

“Mavis says he made enough food if anyone wants to stay for dinner,” Potter said. “If not though, you’re free to go.”

Severus stalled as the others began getting up after Potter’s dismissal, simply thinking to himself.

There was nothing elegant, nor truly experienced or neat about the way Potter led his army, and yet...

And yet Severus had sat in on meetings from two of the fiercest leaders in the magical world, and neither commanded such respect and loyalty from their followers. Neither Albus nor the Dark Lord ever managed to intermingle muggle warfare tactics with wixen methods either.

Potter truly was his own grey side in the upcoming war.

In rare moments, Severus could feel a small sense of glee at imagining Albus and the Dark Lord’s faces once they realized that this child has been stealing their followers away for the past five years.

Remarkable.

“A drink before I go?” Lucius murmured to Severus, breaking him from his reverie.

“Certainly.” Severus got to his feet and looked towards Barty. “Will you join us?”

“Yes please,” Barty said with a huff of relief. “I could use one.”

Severus and Barty waited politely as Lucius spoke with his family. The others were having their own discussions, disagreements, or, in the case of Potter and Granger, were busy transcribing notes.

“I hope you have something strong,” Lucius muttered after he finished with his family and followed Severus and Barty to Severus’ private potions lab. “I cannot go back to the manor without some form of fortification.”

“Is it that bad?” Severus asked, graciously breaking out his good bottle of scotch.

“Bellatrix was hardly sane before Azkaban, you can imagine her now,” Lucius said, accepting the drink.

“Guess it’ll be a relief when Potter kills her then,” Barty smirked.

“In my manor? The one built by my ancestors? Yes, I cannot wait for the day,” Lucius said drily. “Though, here lately I suppose I would nearly trade the manor for the others to be gone.”

Severus and Barty listened politely as Lucius bemoaned his life. He misses civilization, he misses having quiet within the manor, he misses the days of peace before he ‘gave away one Merlin damned possessed diary and tied himself to Potter’.

“You had a possessed diary?” Barty interrupted him at that complaint. “Why?”

“A gift from the Dark Lord, my ultimate downfall,” Lucius said with a theatrical sigh. “If the Dark Lord ever gifted you with a supposed priceless artifact I recommend you simply burn or banish it.”

“He didn’t,” Barty said. He glanced at Severus and gave him the ghost of a smile. “You Sev?”

“Hardly,” Severus scoffed. “I was not important to him until I overheard the damned prophecy.”

“Hmm...” Barty sipped his drink, his eyes appearing far off in thought. “I wonder if anyone else got gifts from him?”

“Bellatrix and Rodolphus,” Lucius told him. “I was given the diary the same time they were gifted with a golden goblet.”

“Do you think it was taken by the ministry when they were arrested?”

Severus studied Barty carefully at his interest in gifts from the Dark Lord. “Would it matter if it had been?” he asked him.

“When you’re fighting a man with seeming immortality, doesn’t every little detail matter?”

“Touché,” Severus lifted his glass to his friend.

“I don’t believe so,” Lucius answered Barty’s original question. “I was under the belief that Bellatrix hid it away in the Lestrange Vaults, though I doubt if she remembers it now, as mad as she is.”

“Weird.” Barty sat his glass down and got to his feet with a yawn. “I think I’ll go rest for a while, call for me if the kids catch the house on fire, will you Sev?”

Severus simply rolled his eyes before refilling his and Lucius’ glasses and discussing lighter topics.



By the end of the holiday break, after there had indeed been multiple accidental fires caused by ‘duels’ and ‘prank item showcases’, Severus conceded that Barty had not been needlessly worried for their overall safety.

It was a miracle that they all survived the week.

Severus very desperately hoped that perhaps the Dark Lord would be dead in a few months and there would be no need to spend a summer in a safe house with a dozen others.

Though, Severus had truly never been lucky before in his life, and he doubted that it would start now.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: Ravenclaw Vs. Slytherin
Also: Harry worries and plots.



Ps: I didn’t get my house clean, but I did go see the new Fantastic Beasts movie. Anyone else see it yet? What’d you think?

73%

Thursday, April 1

Fred was jolted awake by a sharp elbow hitting his ribs. He rolled over with a grunt and immediately began shoving at whatever was attacking him.

“Fuck, quit it, stupid.”

“Harry?”

Fred stifled a yawn and reached out until he could feel the satin material of Harry’s invisibility cloak and pulled it off him. “What are you doing?” he asked once Harry’s face appeared beneath the cloak.

“I’m trying to be nice,” Harry scowled. He rearranged himself until he was comfortable on his side next to Fred. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t wanna wake up on your birthday alone.”

Fred glanced at the clock across the dorm room from him, hanging next to Lee’s bed, and then grinned at Harry. “It’s already three am,” he said.

“Right, so happy birthday,” Harry said seriously. “In my defense, I just thought of this plan a little bit ago and it took a while to guess the password to get in the tower.”

Fred laid back down, drawing Harry a little closer to him. “How’d you guess it?”

“I didn’t,” Harry laughed quietly. “I woke Sirius up and begged him for it.”

Fred chuckled and closed his eyes, he still had a few more hours that he could sleep before he had to get up and face the day.

“Hey Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you really think of this plan by yourself?”

“No,” Harry admitted, closing his own eyes and curling up next to Fred. He pulled the blanket back over them both and Fred could feel the shrug of his shoulders. “Draco did.”

Fred chuckled and listened to Harry’s even breaths as he willed himself to fall back asleep.

Even if it wasn’t Harry’s idea, it was still Harry who was here and happily cuddling him in an effort to make sure he didn’t wake up alone on what Fred was sure would be a terrible day.



And it started off pretty bloody terrible.

Fred accepted birthday wishes from Harry’s friends when the two of them sat down at the Slytherin table later that morning. Even Susan, who he had built a type of friendly truce with, looked sympathetic as she quietly wished him a happy birthday.

Ron had, surprisingly, hugged Fred and didn’t bother with any of the meaningless, but well intentioned, greetings the others used. Which was nice. Because Fred wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate much.

He’d only gotten seventeen birthdays with his dad, and that wasn’t nearly enough time. It was easy to push on, force some optimism in his thoughts, when it wasn’t a day like today. Usually, ever since they started Hogwarts, their dad would always write them a little note and send it along with a package from their mum on the twins’ birthday. Never anything incredibly deep or personal, but always a joke of some sort. Something to make sure the twins knew he appreciated their humor and tried to relate the best he could.

They were bloody terrible jokes, but well-appreciated anyway.

Ron’s fluffy little grey owl, Galvin, interrupted Fred’s sorrowful thoughts as he flew to their table and eagerly flapped his wings in Fred’s face.

“I think he wants you to take that letter,” Zabini said. “Or he could be attempting to make you his mate.”

“I got it.” Harry offered when Zabini’s attempt at a joke fell flat. He gently untied the letter from Galvin’s leg and fed him a bit of bacon before shooing him away. “Here.”

Fred accepted the letter and stared down at the scroll blankly. When he opened what he was sure was his usual birthday letter from his mum, and saw his dad’s absent signature and usual corny joke, it would all be real.

“Want me to read it?” Harry offered quietly.

“No.” Fred gave him a grateful look and unrolled the parchment. “I’ll read it.”

He took a deep breath then looked down at the letter:

Fred,
Happy birthday my amazing son. I can’t believe that eighteen years ago I was laid up in bed, marveling at the sight of my tiny, beautiful, and perfect twins. It seems like just yesterday we were bringing you boys home and trying to keep Charlie from stuffing you in hat boxes. Even if you aren’t so tiny anymore, you’ll always be my perfect and beautiful son who I love more than anything. I know today is going to be hard, but I wanted to tell you that I am so incredibly proud of you and your father always was, and always will be, as well.
Try to be happy today; if skipping classes and pulling pranks makes you smile, then you do just that, okay?
Enjoy your day Freddie, make your brother share the lemon cake I sent to him this morning (Galvin kept trying to peck at the box and Ginny said you eat breakfast with Harry most mornings so I thought it might be safest to send the cake to George).
I love you,
-Mum
Ps: What do you call a toothless bear? A gummy bear!

Fred traced the little ‘ps’ his mum added and smiled sadly. She was trying so hard, Fred didn’t always give her enough credit for how hard she tried. He didn’t even realize he was crying until one of his tears fell on the parchment and smudged some of the ink.

“Er... you alright?” Harry asked him when Fred had been blinking absently at the letter for a few minutes.

“Y-yeah.” Fred cleared his throat and wiped his face dry before rolling the letter back up and pocketing it. “I’m fine.” He tried to smile, but it seemed more like a grimace than anything. “Hey, mum said I should skip class and pull pranks all day, you in?”

Fred must truly look miserable, because Hermione and Theo didn’t even try and talk him out of it.

“Course,” Harry said simply, as if it were a given that he’d be game. “Hey, d’you want your present now or later?”

He narrowed his eyes at Malfoy and Ron’s sudden snickers and had a bad feeling that they already knew what it was and found something amusing about it. “Later,” he told Harry. “Wanna go see if George and Angie wanna join us?”

“Sure.”

George, whose red rimmed eyes were proof that he was having just as crummy a day as Fred, jumped at the suggestion and the three of them begged until Angie agreed to join them.

“If we get in trouble I’m telling McGonagall that you lot imperio’d me,” she grumbled on their way up to the dorm for supplies.

“She’ll believe you,” Harry shrugged. “Snape’ll blame me anyway.”

“See? Perfect scapegoat,” George assured her with a kiss to her cheek. “Who could ever blame Ickle Harrikins for corrupting his fellow students? Look at those innocent eyes!”

Fred and Angelina both looked down at Harry’s eyes, and started snickering at the same time.

“Oh yeah,” Angie rolled her eyes. “Harry’s perfectly innocent alright.”

“I am,” Harry protested. He stopped outside the Gryffindor Tower and winked at Angela before telling the Fat Lady, “Canis Majoris.”

“You told him the password??” Angie glared half-heartedly at Fred as the painting swung open.

“Nope. Professor Black did,” Fred grinned. “See why Harry’s the perfect scapegoat?”

Angelina didn’t look too convinced, but Fred knew she was just putting on a show. The only time she really cared much about rules was when it came to their quidditch matches, outside of that she was almost as careless as Fred and George were and contributed more than one idea to joke shop items.

The four of them spent a couple hours setting traps across the Gryffindor tower, then Harry offered to let them in the Slytherin common room so they all trooped quality down to the dungeons to set up pranks for the Slytherins as well.

“Bloody hell,” Angie sighed when she stepped in the Slytherin territory. “This is posh!”

“I know,” Harry scowled, as if the rich decor offended him somehow.

“Well lets see how posh it is when we’re done,” George said.

They got lucky with the absence of any students with a free period. Though, this close to exams, Fred reckoned they were probably in the library studying their heads off.

Harry didn’t keep them from setting just as many (mostly) harmless traps for the Slytherin’s as they had the Gryffindors. In fact, when George set out plates of Canary Creams, Harry laughed and put them in a more visible spot.

“You guys are terrible,” Angie laughed. “They’re going to blame poor Harry for this I bet.”

“Nah, they’re all terrified of him,” Fred said. He held Harry’s hand tightly as they left and made their way back to the Gryffindor Tower. “They might assume Harry did it, but they won’t ask him.”

“They really won’t,” Harry smirked. “Not since these gits let everyone find out I’m a Parsletongue anyway.”

That led to Angelina asking Harry a million questions about talking to snakes as they settled down in the Gryffindor rooms in front of the fire, apparently she thought it was fascinating. Then the four of them talked quidditch for a while, Angelina told Harry that she was planning on playing for the Harpies next year after she graduated. Harry didn’t tell her about his own goals of playing professionally, so Fred didn’t bring it up either. He figured Harry either didn’t want to jinx himself or didn’t want her to know in case he didn’t make it.

Not that Fred doubted him. Harry could have let in every goal from his last match and recruiters would have to be blind to not see he was a natural on a broomstick.

At some point, after they’d all had a slice of the lemon cake their mum sent for them, Fred excused himself to go up in his dorm for a bit. He didn’t bother making up some grand lie, not when he figured George would understand and Harry would follow anyway.

Sure enough, Fred had barely thrown himself on his bed, preparing to wallow in his thinly veiled grief, when Harry popped his head in the dorm and came straight over to his bed.

“Budge up.” Harry poked him until Fred scooted over enough for Harry to crawl up on the bed. Harry sat back against the headrest and patted his legs invitingly. “You can lay your head here and cry or yell or talk, whatever you want. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Fred didn’t care if he looked pathetic, he felt pathetic. He just rearranged himself until his head was in Harry’s lap and he let silent tears fall while Harry stroked his hair and breathed evenly.

“I miss him,” Fred eventually whispered. “I miss him so bloody much.”

“I know,” Harry said gently.

And Fred realized that Harry did know actually. He looked up at Harry’s expressionless face and frowned. “D’you miss your dad?”

“Me?” Harry raised a brow at Fred’s question. “No, not really. I didn’t know him, so I don’t suppose I have anything about him to miss, do I?”

Fred hummed and went back to silently staring up at the ceiling.

He privately, very privately, thought that was actually one of the saddest things he ever heard. He’d rather have gotten seventeen and a half years with his dad than just one year he couldn’t remember like Harry had.



Eventually, when Fred could hear students downstairs in the common room and he could see the sky turning orange outside, his stomach growled.

“Wanna go to dinner?” Harry asked.

Fred sat up and wiped his face off with his jumper before shaking his head. “Not really. Wanna go nick some food from the kitchen with me?”

“Er...” Harry squinted his eyes at Fred thoughtfully. “No. I’ve got a better idea, I’ll be back in ten minutes, ‘kay?”

“Alright,” Fred agreed. He laid back down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “Don’t get lost darlin.”

“As if,” Harry scoffed before scrambling off the bed and rushing out the door.

Fred let his mind wander while Harry was gone. He didn’t really think of much, he just tried to keep his mind blank. Blank was safe, blank meant he wasn’t likely to burst in to tears again today.

Blank was peaceful. It was quiet.

Fred had his eyes closed when Harry quietly returned to the dorm.

“Are you sleeping or d’you wanna eat?”

Fred peeked one eye open and saw Harry was lingering in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder and a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Eat,” Fred said. He sat up and reached out for Harry, who all too easily grabbed his hand and led him out.



Despite his own promise not to cry again today, Fred thought he might start crying all over again when Harry led him outside and pulled the supplies from his bag. Harry carefully laid a blanket down, finding a still-sunny spot to place it. Then he pulled out a bunch of containers of different foods.

“It’s a picnic,” Harry said. He sat down on the ground and sent a pointed look at the open spot on the blanket next to him. “It’s supposed to be romantic.”

Fred didn’t know if he was going to laugh or cry, but thankfully a chuckle is all that escaped him as he sat down next to Harry. “Very romantic,” he assured him. “Honestly Harry, I had no idea you were so smooth.”

“Spend enough time with Sirius and Lupin in the summers and you pick up some stuff,” Harry stuck his tongue out in a rare show of playfulness. “Sirius swears he’s a pro at romance.”

“Well he’s not my type,” Fred said. “I like my blokes scrawnier, a bit more vicious, loads more brilliant, and able to kill me with their hands tied behind their back.”

“I’m not scrawny,” Harry huffed, which was adorable because he kind of was. Sure he was loads healthier looking now than he’d been in his second year when Fred first noticed him, but he was still thin. He was just more wiry and lean now instead of tragically underweight and short.

“Present first or food first?” Harry asked. He opened one of the containers and shook it enticingly.

“Food,” Fred said. “I’m starving.”

Fred was touched that it seemed as if Harry had gotten a variety of foods that Fred liked. There were sausage rolls, pork pies, chips, Yorkshire pudding, and even a whole box of lemon tarts that Harry swears he got from Mavis.

Fred was pretty sure Mavis was the nicest house-elf he’d ever met, and he met the overly excitable ones in Hogwarts loads of times.

“You’re birthday’s almost over and you still haven’t gotten your present,” Harry said when the sun began to change from orange to purple and they were both stuffed from their mini feast. “Don’t you want it?”

“Oh, alright then.” Fred didn’t sigh, because he didn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings, but Harry always got him something he put a lot of thought in to, and it was usually something expensive. Harry didn’t notice price tags when he was picking out gifts, but Fred couldn’t wait for Harry’s next birthday when he’d have money from the shop to pick him out something special.

“Well you don’t sound very excited,” Harry said. “Maybe I won’t give it to you then... maybe I’ll just keep it.”

Fred perked up a little at Harry’s teasing tone. Harry was a pretty serious bloke, so if he was going out of his way to tease Fred then either he was really eager to give him his gift or he was in an exceptionally good mood.

“I’ll trade you,” Fred offered, playing around. “One kiss from me for the present.” He puckered his lips out at Harry and laughed when Harry threw a piece of a roll at his forehead.

“Hmm, I dunno... it’s a good present, I think it’s worth more than one kiss.”

Fred leaned forward and planted one hand on either side of Harry. “Two kisses?” he grinned, his face only inches from Harry’s.

“Maybe,” Harry murmured.

Fred kept his face lingering in front of Harry’s, waiting patiently for Harry to make the next move. They’d not really done much more than snog and cuddle since their breakup last summer, Fred was in no rush to push things and make Harry consider himself ‘broken’ again.

They’d brought it up a little in their last counseling session with Lupin last month, but Harry had made Lupin swear to never repeat anything he told him then changed his mind and refused to talk about it. Lupin told Fred in his own individual session the next week that it was progress that Harry even considered bringing it up, so he didn’t seem worried.

And Fred was coming to like Lupin quite a bit, so if he wasn’t worried then Fred wasn’t either. He’d just keep patiently waiting and accepting whatever Harry could give him.

Harry hesitated before cupping Fred’s face gently, his touch light and hesitant, and then kissed him enthusiastically. Which was so unexpected that Fred nearly fell over. He rebounded quickly though. He carefully grabbed Harry’s waist and pulled him closer to him, right up on his own lap.

Really he should have just tried this earlier when he could make himself stop his tears. Nothing cleared his mind of all his problems quite like Harry when he was in an affectionate mood.

In fact, Fred had already forgotten all about his birthday, his grief, and Harry’s gift up until Harry abruptly broke their kiss and smiled crookedly at him.

“You can have it now,” he said. He laughed at Fred’s bemused expression before climbing off Fred and digging in his bag.

Harry tossed him a small box he triumphantly pulled from the bag. “Happy birthday.”

Fred slowly opened the silver wrapped package, carefully setting aside the huge silver bow to save. He could practically feel Harry’s nervous energy as the paper came off and there was a small navy blue box in his hand.

“You gotta open it,” Harry said quietly when Fred just looked down at the box.

Fred gave Harry one more queer look before slowly opening it. And—

Holy Merlin.

“What- what is this?”

Fred plucked up the thick silver band and got caught in the twinkling emeralds that wrapped around the band, settled snuggly inside the band.

“It’s a promise ring, it’s supposed to- er... ‘signify our commitment and fidelity’.”

“What?” Fred looked from the ring to Harry now, noticing in the back of his mind that Harry’s green eyes matched the emeralds nicely. “Where’d you... is that a- a courting thing?”

Harry’s cheeks got a red flush to them and he shrugged. “Yeah. But I wanted to get it anyway cause- well... it’s just that you’re mine, and you leave this year, but I want everyone to know you’re mine. So... so I thought this was perfect.”

Fred looked down at the ring again, he traced his thumb over the grooves from the jewels and noted that it must have cost a small fortune. “This is... this is beautiful Harry. But it was probably really expensive, I- I can’t—,”

“You can,” Harry cut in. “You said I was stuck with you, which means you’re stuck with me too, yeah? And this is your gift, but it’s kind of for me too, isn’t it? Cause everyone will know we’re together, even when I’m not there to tell them.”

Fred laughed at Harry’s earnest and genuine explanation. “Well, if it’s for you love, I’ll wear it. Which finger did your fancy courting book say I put it on?”

“Right ring finger,” Harry said. “Can I?”

Harry reached out for the ring and Fred relinquished it to him. He felt another lump of emotion swell up in his throat as Harry softly, so softly that Fred knew nobody would ever believe Harry could be so soft, slid the ring on his finger.

“D’you like it?”

Fred nodded, knowing that if he opened his mouth right now he’d probably start blubbering again.

“Brill.” Harry kissed Fred’s hand then settled down next to him, his head on Fred’s shoulder. “I thought you should know, I love you.”

“You’re everything to me,” Fred whispered, his voice choked with the tears he didn’t want to shed.

“You’re mine,” Harry said simply, as if that was all the explanation Fred needed.

And it was.

Fred was absolutely, irrevocably, Harry’s. He had been for years, and he would be for the rest of their lives.



Fred finally finished recounting the entirely sappy, romantic, incredibly brilliant story to George. The two of them were laying side by side in George’s bed later that night, spending the last couple of hours of their birthday together.

“That’s... Bloody hell Fred, Harry’s a bit possessive, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Fred sighed wistfully as he looked at the promise ring on his finger. “Sweet, isn’t it?”



Fred’s second favorite part about the promise ring, a perk he hadn’t even considered, came the next morning, during his NEWTS potions class.

Harry must not have told Snape about his gift, because Snape actually froze mid-lecture in front of the table Fred shared with George. His eyes widened as he finally caught sight of the ring. “What is on your finger Mister Weasley?” he asked quietly. Not quietly enough to not draw the attention of the other students, but softly enough that Fred knew that Snape knew what it was.

George smiled innocently up at Snape and held his hands up for inspection. “Nothing, sir.”

“Shut up,” Snape told him absently. He was still frozen as he looked down at Fred’s hand. “Mister Frederick Weasley, what is that?”

“Oh, this?” Fred waved his right hand around a bit, internally laughing at the way Snape’s dark eyes followed it. “It’s a promise ring sir. I reckon it means you’ll be my father-in-law one day.”



He got a week of detentions, to be served with Filch, but Merlin if it hadn’t been worth it.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: Snape does some Snape-esque plotting of his own.