Butterfly 34 - LM/HP
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It’s been like two weeks so it’s not really ‘been a while’, but I suppose it’s long enough. I’ve gotten a promotion where I work and it’s only my first day of managerial training but I was up at 5:30am and I finished 3 hours later than I should have, so I’m EXHAUSTED!
The start of this was actually meant to be part of the last chapter, but I missed it somehow. I must have been working that day too (lately there aren’t many days I don’t work).
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Words: 4,090
Chapter 34
November 27th 1993. Quidditch Pitch.
Harry really hated playing Quidditch in the rain. He wasn’t really that fond of playing Quidditch either, but he had gotten used to winning and rather enjoyed the feeling that victory brought with it. But playing in the rain was downright horrible. Not only was it wet, and cold, and horrible, but it made his uniform cling uncomfortably to his skin and it were clingy enough already. It also made the handle of his Nimbus 2001 slippery, so instead of chafing against his gloved hands the handle just kept sliding out of his grip, and it was killing Harry’s thighs trying to compensate.
Thunder and lightning were crashing above his head, and Harry glanced up warily as the snitch flew higher and higher right into the centre of the storm. He wasn’t going to bother, because after all what went up would eventually come down, even if it was magical and had magic powered wings; the snitch would eventually grow bored of not being sought and come looking for a Seeker.
But then the Hufflepuff Seeker tilted upwards, broom handle pointed towards the sky and the bristles trembling in Harry’s face as he shot away. He turned over his shoulder, brown hair blowing back out of his eyes and he grinned at Harry, “Eat my dust.”
Harry sighed heavily. He too then took off with a burst of speed towards the storm clouds above him. When he finally caught up to the other Seeker he said, “Actually there are no dust particles this high up.” Harry grinned widely, his eye teeth poking out over his lip. “So, instead, drink my spray.” And sure enough, as Harry’s broom darted forward once more, it flicked to the left shooting a small jet of water right into the Hufflepuff’s face.
Harry was tempted to stick his tongue out, except he knew the other boy wouldn’t see. No one needed to know how immature he was being, no one would find out, but it all seemed a bit pointless if even the one it was aimed at didn’t notice. Harry’s hand shot out, fingers closing around the fluttering snitch. Just as Harry grabbed hold of his broom again, a bolt of lightning appeared out of practically nowhere, scorching just passed where Harry’s arm had been and singeing the ends of his hair. With trembling, slippery fingers, Harry steered his broom back down onto the ground.
“And Ravenclaw win, with 180 points to 50!” Someone shouted, and people cheered. Harry continued to hover on his broom centimetres above the ground. The rest of his team mates rushed towards him, Roger through his arms around Harry’s neck and gave him a one armed hug, his other arm holding tight to his Comet 360.
Benjamin, one of the Chasers, tugged him off of his broom, and swung Harry around in a wide circle. “That was close my friend,” he said laughing.
“I was almost hit by lightning,” Harry replied in an odd detached sort of voice.
“Oh,” Benjamin whispered, “that was close!”
As he spoke, a rush of wind swept passed them, blowing up robes and rustling hair. Every member of the team was holding tightly to their broom, except Harry; his was still floating by his side, where he had left it once Benjamin pulled him off. The wind caught the bristles, and Harry was too slow to react. He watched, confused at first as it began to fly away from him, and then he realised what was really happening: the wind was blowing it away.
“Oi!” He shouted, jumping forward and missing the tail end of the broom by half an inch. “Oi!” But the broom was already gone, and no one else dared risking their own broom to rescue Harry’s.
With a crash and several cracks like the sound of breaking bones, the Nimbus 2001 hit the branches of the Whomping Willow and was no more. Harry turned to look at his teammates. All of them stared back at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“And that was plain unlucky!” Benjamin added, ignoring the glare Harry sent his way.
XXX
December 6th 1993. Hogwarts.
Harry had learnt in first year that the best way to ensure that you were left alone was to make other people think you already had company. Draco was under the impression that Harry was studying with Theodore, and Theo thought Harry was with Hermione, and he had told Hermione he’d be staying in the common room with Draco that night, so none of them were looking for him.
He made his way to the owlery in silence. Harry had two letters waiting to be sent off, one for Lucius accepting his offer of spending Yule at Malfoy Manor, and the other was for his father. Evan would receive the usual, ‘happy Yule time’ wishes but by letter this year, along with a shrunken gift (a sneakascope) on the off chance that it came in handy, and post scripted on the bottom of that letter was the name of anyone Remus Lupin had ever mentioned in passing as being his ‘friend’. Harry had assumed that meant ‘ally’, and Lord Voldemort would know if they were already taken care of or not. And if it turned out to be useless information, well, it wasn’t like Voldemort was sending him anything anyway, so it didn’t matter.
He tied Lucius’ letter to Hedwig’s leg. “It’s only a handful of days more until the end of term, and I’m spending the holidays there anyway. So unless Lucius wants to reply, don’t bother coming back to the school, girl.” The owl hooted at him, and Harry accepted that as an affirmative. He lifted his arm up, and Hedwig sunk her claws in for a moment and then pushed off, taking flight gracefully and with ease. Harry watched her, until she was little more than a white speck on the horizon and then he called to a school owl.
“Take this to Albania,” he told the plain brown owl. Harry tied the tiny parcel on, the letter attached to the front and helped the creature launch into the air.
When it was gone, two boys stepped in through the threshold to the owlery, identical smirks on their identical faces. “Who do you-” One began.
“Know in Albania?” The other finished.
“Fred, George,” Harry greeted, nodding to the wrong twin at the wrong time, because honestly he couldn’t tell them apart and they knew that already. “Professor Quirrell finally made it to Albania during the past summer, and as we got on rather well in school we decided to keep up a correspondence. Ultimately, it annoys my aunt to have Wizard post arriving at her Muggle home, so I keep up a correspondence with as many magical folk as possible. Don’t you?”
Fred tilted his head to one side, his hair just a tad bit longer than George’s and it fell into his eyes. “Even Lockhart?” He grinned widely.
“No,” Harry said blandly. “Not him. Anyone but him.” Although that was a lie, because the Lockhart the twins knew had actually been Lord Voldemort, and Harry had just sent off a message to him. “Why were you spying on me?”
“Spying?” “Us?” “On you?” They asked him in rapid succession.
Harry rolled his eyes, but waited patiently until they felt like responding. They had been kind enough to him in his first year, and in second year they had made a valid effort to keep Ginny away from him, and even after the whole Parseltongue debacle they had continued to be friendly (but that was likely because they hadn’t been there and they didn’t really put much stock in gossip). They had never pranked him, but likely that was because Harry tended to glare viciously at anyone who so much snickered at a bad joke made at his expense, never mind what he’d do to someone who played a good joke on him!
“Well, our dear,” “Heir of Slytherin, Prince,” “of all that is Dark and dank and unrighteous,” “we hear that a certain,” “ex-convict might just,” “be after your guts and garters.”
“That’s not the saying,” Harry interrupted.
“Anyway,” Fred continued where he had finished off, “we would like,” “to offer you protection, the,” “only way we know,” “how. Marauder style!”
“What’s a Marauder?” Harry asked, even though he knew well. Remus had particularly enjoyed the stories of himself and his friends reigning over Hogwarts as the prankster kings. In the stories, Remus himself hadn’t done much, but Harry supposed that retelling the grandest, greatest, most extravagant stories probably made the memories more real for him. It probably meant that he could live within his fantasies and memories for that little bit longer than usual, and the smile would stay on his face for those few extra seconds.
“Why!” George gasped. “Harry! Don’t you know?”
“They were only THE best pranksters at Hogwarts!”
“Ever!” George shouted, and he and Fred traded wild grins. “We have this map, that we…”
“Liberated?” Fred suggested.
“Liberated, because after all an invention this genius should be uncaged and available to those in need, from Filch. We’d like to offer it to you.”
“For your protection.” Fred reached into his pocket and pulled it out. “It is our understanding,” George butted in, “from what our dear father had overheard in work,” “that Sirius Black will be out on parole this Christmas,” “and since everyone knows of his fascination with you,” “dearest Heir of Slytherin, Darkness, dankness, unrighteousness, etcetera,” “etcetera, etcetera, we are certain that Sirius Black,” “will come to Hogwarts.”
Fred handed over the map. Harry glanced at it, and immediately tucked it into his pocket. It was late, and Theo would soon be back from the library and Draco would know they hadn’t been studying together at all and get into a sulk with him. If Draco got into a sulk, no one in their dorm would sleep well that night. Harry wanted to do his best to avoid that, and so he didn’t have time to listen to the twins’ explanations. He already knew how the map worked, or had worked back in Remus’ schooldays, and Harry would bet his right arm that not one of the Marauders had bothered to change the passwords after graduation.
“Thank you very much.”
“Don’t you want to know how it works?” Fred asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
“I’m a Ravenclaw, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Now, why don’t you both go back to… managing mischief?” Harry kept his face purposely blank as the boys’ eyes went wide at his choice of words. He didn’t respond to their questioning looks; instead, Harry turned his back to them and made his way slowly from the owlery.
George shouted after him, “If you’re not staying in Hogwarts you might as well give it back! We need that, remember!”
Harry called back over his shoulder, pleased that the ginger twins couldn’t see the smirk playing over his lips, “oh yes, I’m definitely staying at Hogwarts for Yule. I promise.”
He kept two fingers crossed down by his thigh, and on the 19th of December Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express home.
XXX
December 28th 1993. Malfoy Manor.
Harry gathered his gifts carefully into his arms before standing up. Draco did likewise, both of them planning to horde their presents into their bedrooms for further perusal later. The traditional Yule festivities had taken the appropriate three days from start to finish, and this year it had been Narcissa’s turn to act as the gift giver, so Harry and Draco both had spent the past three days in a perpetual state of awkwardness. Draco’s mother, and the only mother-type-figure Harry had ever known, spent three days completely naked in the same room as them and her husband who kept making eyes at Harry. It was all very uncomfortably, and both teenagers had been desperate to open their presents before adult eyes, as was part of the Malfoy Yule tradition, and then escape from the room.
When their gifts were gathered, Harry nodded at Narcissa, his face flushing again as she smiled back at him. He nodded at Lucius, ignoring the way the man continued to stare at him even as he made his way from the room and left Draco to say his goodbyes.
Draco went straight to his bedroom, or Harry assumed he did because he didn’t come into Harry’s room and no one in their right mind would want to go into their parents’ room after the last three days of… naked mother-ness. Harry collapsed onto his bed or at least the bed that the Malfoys had nominated as ‘his’ the first time Harry had spent the night. The house elves just kept bringing him back to this room, and over the years Harry had gotten used to calling it his, just as Draco and Lucius had. His presents scattered across the duvet and Harry tugged up one at random. It was a book, sent by Theo even though the letter included his name and his brothers.
Theodore had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays to keep his brother company. Terrance Nott was a ward of the Ministry, a magical orphan basically, except there was nowhere to send those orphans and so where possible the Ministry appointed someone to find someone else to foster the child until they came of age. There had been the odd desperate time where the Ministry had just paid for a couple kids to sleep in one of the rooms at the Leaky Cauldron for a few weeks until someone had come forward to foster them. But Terrance appeared to be one of the lucky ones. There was already a family interested, and while the father was a Muggleborn, the mother was Pureblood and they had a son already who attended Durmstrang. The only problem was that they were considering taking Terrance out of Hogwarts if they managed to successfully adopt; if they were only allowed to foster, then it didn’t matter to them where the young boy went to school.
Terrance wasn’t allowed to spend the holidays with a potential family, lest he ‘influence’ them in one way or the other, and Theo hadn’t wanted to leave his elder brother alone at Hogwarts.
Harry read through the letter, having ignored it when he opened the gift and smiled softly. Terrance seemed much happier with Theodore around. Harry hoped the Bjorks, should they adopt, allowed Terrance to remain at school with his brother. The boy brushed his hair back off his face, resolving to get it cut sometime before he went back to school himself, and grabbed the next gift. It was strange and interesting looking, long, thin and silver and shaped like a Muggle lighter.
It came with a note, which read: “I hear that Dementors suffer an uncommon attraction to you, child. I hope this gift comes in useful. With regards, your friend, TMR.”
Harry dropped the deluminator in shock. Voldemort had sent him a Christmas present, he thought with shock. Which could only mean that the list of names he had sent along had been useful, or that they hadn’t and Harry now owed Voldemort a real gift, which would be embarrassing and awkward and kind of suck a little. What did one buy the Dark Lord of the Wizarding World who had been disembodied some years ago? A body? Harry snorted at the thought. If bodies were so easy to come by, then Voldemort would have found himself a replacement years ago! Hopefully, he thought as he reached for the next letter in the pile, the list of names had come in handy.
Before he could grab for it, his bedroom door opened. Lucius stood regally in the doorframe, a pale blond eyebrow arched until Harry invited him in.
Lucius brushed his lips lightly against Harry’s own for a second before he sat beside the boy on the bed. “Happy Yule, love,” he whispered. Harry’s eyes widened. He tried to think if Lucius had ever used a pet name for him before, especially one such as that, and came up blank. Had he, hadn’t he; Harry couldn’t recall, but the word from Lucius’ mouth made his heart hammer in his chest and a flush crawl up his neck.
“Accio,” the blonde summoned with a flick of his wand.
A broom flew in through the doorway that Lucius had purposely left open, and Harry gasped at the sight of it. “That’s a Firebolt!” He whispered, looking horridly excited.
“You’re welcome, love.” An amused smirk played on Lucius’ mouth, and Harry’s eyes were drawn to the pink lips, slightly parted and moist.
He licked his own lips, eyes wide and cheeks red, and breathed, “I meant thank you.”
Lucius rolled his eyes, but leant forward again, allowing Harry to brush their lips together once more. He pulled away almost a second later, eyeing the blushing teenager fondly before reaching out to run his fingers through the messy, black hair.
“I have something else for you.”
“What is it?” Harry asked, pursing his lips together as he bent to the side, trying to see if anything was hidden behind Lucius’ back.
“How childish,” the elder Wizard chided lightly. “It is not a physical gift; I got you an expensive one of those already, remember? I have a story to tell you. Evan tells me you’re desperate to hear it.”
“About Sirius?” Harry asked softly. The Marauders Map was tucked into his trunk somewhere, hidden between two books and under a set of robes, just in case anyone went snooping. If he recalled correctly, that would have been Sirius’ copy of the map, confiscated by Filch when they were younger themselves. It was a brilliant piece of magic, and Harry wanted to take it apart and study it and recreate a version of his own, one that included Hogsmeade maybe, or the Chamber of Secrets, or one of the Ministry or Azkaban or Malfoy Manor. Imagine the possibilities! But it was also a part of his legacy, something that he should have inherited, like he had inherited the Invisibility Cloak and his gold and his untameable hair. But Filch had taken this copy, and then the twins had taken it, and who knew what had happened to James’ or Remus’ copy, or the fourth Marauder, the one Remus never named. He must have had a copy too, right?
Harry was tempted to go searching for the map, to activate it and see whether Sirius really did go to Hogwarts for him, but there was no point. Harry had tested it the day he arrived at Malfoy Manor, and it didn’t appear to work outside of Hogwarts’ grounds. That was something else that Harry would like to research and improve upon. Imagine, no matter what side he was on, if he had a map capable of keeping track of everyone, everywhere, no matter where he was himself. He would always be safe. It was a lovely thought, but not a likely one.
“Once upon a time,” Lucius began softly and Harry gave a loud snort of amusement which went ignored. “Four boys went to Hogwarts and became friends. Your real father was one of them. They were all rather horrid to Severus, you know, which is why he doesn’t like you much.”
“He doesn’t?” Harry asked, looking shell shocked. “And I thought we were going to get married.” He shot Lucius a droll look, rolling his eyes.
Lucius ignored his sarcasm and continued. “When they grew up, one of them got married and had a son, you. Then the Dark Lord went looking for you, and for them, and the man hid with his family hoping to keep them safe, as I would have done too.” Lucius cupped Harry’s cheek, turning the boy’s face towards him. They stared at each other for a moment, watching each other’s face for any negative reaction so far. “One of their friends gave away their location, the secret to the place that they were hidden, and your parents were killed. Sirius Black went looking for that traitor. The traitor attacked him, killing thirteen Muggles in the process and faking his own death, and Sirius Black was sent to prison without a trial.”
“Sirius is innocent? He isn’t a Death Eater?” Harry folded his hands in his lap, allowing Lucius to continue to hold his chin even as he gazed away. He watched his fingers entwine with one another, watched his hands fold and close over each other and then open again, anything to avoid the look of pity on Lucius’ face.
“Not to my knowledge, no. And yes, he was, very innocent. But it was a terrible time, Harry. Everything was chaos, timeless and all consuming, and no one was really concerned with what happened to anyone else. Even those who had remained un-accused were quick to sell out friends and neighbours in the hopes of looking good before the Ministry.”
“Then why does Voldemort want to free him?”
“I,” Lucius sighed and glanced away, “can’t tell you that. To be honest, I’m not sure that I even know for certain. I have my suspicions of course, and I’ve done exactly as my Lord has instructed me to, and Evan has mentioned things here and there, but no one had outright told me what is to happen with Black. But I do know this, he is your family. He is actually your cousin on your father’s side, second or third cousin, but still blood. He is your Godfather, the one chosen to love and protect you, and yes he made a stupid mistake and tried to seek revenge without thinking of the consequences or of you, but he was honourable and brave if nothing else. And he loves you. I don’t know what our Lord wants with him, or with you, but I swear to you, love, Sirius Black would sooner die than harm you.” Lucius pressed their mouths together again, longer this time, harder. Harry poked his tongue out, trying to coax Lucius into responding, but as always Lucius kept their kiss closed-mouthed and innocent.
“You don’t have to be afraid of him.” Lucius added after they broke away.
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” Harry told him honestly. “I’m worried about what might happen if I decide I want to keep him. What Evan will think, or do, or say, if I decide to love him. I’m afraid of what Voldemort might do if Sirius wasn’t a Death Eater, and he’s not. And I’m glad you told me the truth, because apparently the truth is a hard thing to find in the media and in books, but now I’m even more worried than I was before. What do I do, Lucius,” Harry asked softly, green eyes brightened by tears, “if they give him back and I love him and then Voldemort takes him away again?”
“Don’t fall in love with him,” Lucius offered, swallowing heavily as he pulled Harry into a tight hug. “Love only me,” he added in a whisper. He knew what Harry had meant, of course, and Harry knew what Lucius was trying to do, and so he offered a fake smile and pretended that he felt better and pulled away from the hug with another whispered thanks.
“Easier said than done,” he teased, insinuating that loving Lucius was hard. But learning to love anyone was hard to avoid, especially family that you had long been deprived of, and Harry didn’t think he actually had the strength to keep Sirius at a distance if the man really did want to be his family. Evan was his family, his only family until Hogwarts, and then Theo had arrived, and before that Draco had always sort of been there, and Lucius in a non-platonic way, and now Remus and Sirius were both trying to force their way into his life, there seemed something better about having a Godfather love him than a simple friend of the family.
No offence to Remus, but he really wasn’t Harry’s cup of tea. Sirius though, Sirius might have potential. His own family had been Dark, or at least neutral, and they were family too. If that didn’t sway him to Harry’s side (whichever side that may be, though worryingly he was leaning more towards the Dark than anything), then Sirius wasn’t worth the heartache. Or at least that’s what Harry told himself.
XXX
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I have 2 chapters of Through the Looking Glass done, and I’m just waiting until my beta finds the time. Regardless, I have to be up at 5:30 again for work tomorrow, so goodnight! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Words: 2,275
Chapter 35
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