Harry Potter and the Last Year

Level 1.6: The Family Ties

Harry had always assumed that finding his family would mean big changes for him, a new home, a new future, someone to protect him. But Persephone was the one without a home, while he at least had Grimmauld place. And she needed his protection far more than he needed hers. As far as his future went, nothing had changed. He was still the one who had to kill Voldemort.

When Ron and Hermione reemerged from Dumbledore's office, the four of them descended the steps. Harry felt like he should say something, but he was still trying to work through everything in his head. Persephone seemed more interested in talking to Hermione at the moment than him, so they promised to meet in the morning. Persephone and Hermione disappeared into the girls bathroom while Harry and Ron walked back up to the boys dormitory to check the map.

Even though the other boys they shared a room with had gone home for Christmas, Harry and Ron discovered they were not alone when they reached their dormitory. A small creature with pointy ears and a long nose met them with a squeal and a bow. "Harry Potter, sir! Mr. Ron Weasley, sir! Dobby is so happy to be seeing yous, sir."

"Dobby?" Harry said, breaking into a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Dobby is wanting to wish you a Merry Christmas, sir," the elf said. Harry took a seat on the bed. With all that had happened, he had forgotten it was still Christmas. "Dobby would have been coming to see you this morning, but Professor Dumbledore is sending Dobby on a mission and I is just got back, sir."

"What sort of mission?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Well, I can't say exactly, Mr. Weasley sir," Dobby said in a low voice. "I think Dobby is supposed to be staying secret about it. Dobby may be a free elf, but he has a lot of respect for Professor Dumbledore and keeps his secrets sir." Dobby looked about himself shiftily and added. "But Dobby had hoped never to be seeing his old home again sir."

"He sent you to spy on the Malfoys?" Harry surmised.

"Dobby is not saying so, sir," Dobby said in a rather lofty manner. Harry laughed.

"Hey!" Ron said as though he had had a burst of inspiration. "Dobby, I bet you know the dirt on Malfoy. You over that head banging thing yet? I mean err--Draco Malfoy's been a bit funny, and I think he might be up to something."

"I think he's been looking a bit ill, actually," said Harry. "But we need to figure out if that's an act. If he's working with the Death Eaters or against them. So if there's anything you could tell us--?"

The house-elf's reservation about spilling Dumbledore's secrets did not seem to extend to Draco Malfoy. "Dobby is not trusting him at all, Harry Potter," he said in an eager whisper as though this was something he had been wanting to say for quite some time. "He has been asking questions, sir. About Hermione Granger, sir."

"What sort of questions?" Ron asked in a startled voice. "Who's he asking?"

"Draco Malfoy has been asking the house-elves, sir, but Dobby is not letting them tell him anything. Dobby is not going to let them help his old masters in their nasty plots," Dobby said resolutely. "Draco Malfoy was asking about S.P.E.W., Mr. Weasley sir, but I don't think that's what he really wanted. He knew Dobby was watching him sir. He knew Dobby wouldn't let him hurt Hermione Granger."

"If he tries to lay a hand on Hermione, I'll break his arm," Ron promised. "Good work, Dobby." Dobby beamed at him.

"Hey, Dobby," Harry said as the thought came to him. "Did you know about my aunt Persephone? Do you know where Malfoy found her?"

"I am hearing she is back, Harry Potter sir," said Dobby. "And I am hearing that Draco Malfoy is bringing her back, but I is not knowing from where."

"What do you make of her, Dobby?"

Dobby looked reluctant again. "I remember she was very kind to us house-elves, Harry Potter sir, but she is always been keeping bad company, sir. I am not sure what to be thinking about her, sir."

"Same as us," said Harry. He opened his trunk to fish the map out. He waited until Dobby had gone before he and Ron actually used the map.

"Looks like Hermione's coming back," said Ron.

"And there's Persephone," said Harry, pointing to the dot neatly labeled Persephone Potter heading back towards the Slytherin common room. "Guess that proves it."

****************

Persephone joined Harry after breakfast, and they decided to take a walk on the grounds to avoid the confused stares of the other students. Ron and Hermione agreed to take charge of the D.A.'s research effort, so that Harry could spend some time getting to know his aunt. They did not tell the other members who Persephone was, only that she was on their side and Dumbledore had vouched for her. Ginny peppered them with both verbal and nonverbal I-told-you-so's and demanded to know when Persephone would be coming to D.A. meetings.

Harry was not ready to tell Persephone about the D.A. however. He was willing to accept that she was his aunt, but he would never have told his other aunt about the D.A. He still had too many unanswered questions, and even Dumbledore, who knew who she was all along, had called her unpredictable.

Persephone for her part seemed to forget that she had ever been angry with him. She talked in an almost dizzying stream as they walked down to the lake. She found everything about Harry incredibly interesting and asked him all sorts of questions. Not the questions people normally ask him about his scar and his encounters with Voldemort or even his Quidditch exploits. Persephone wanted to know what his favorite classes were and whether he preferred chocolate or pepper imps. She was extremely curious about his Muggle grammar school and absolutely outraged to hear that he had spent much of his childhood sleeping in a cupboard.

"That's horrible! That's really horrible. I don't care what she went through. That's a terrible thing to do to anyone, but your own family!" Persephone continued on like this for a good three minutes, before pausing for breath. "It's not like you had anything to do with it. You were just a baby!"

Harry could not help smiling at her tirade. Her indignation on his behalf made his childhood in the cupboard seem no less unfair, but somehow it made him feel less angry about it.

"What about your teachers? Didn't you ever tell any of them? Didn't they ever do anything?" Persephone asked in a concerned tone as though this was still a fresh issue that needed to be worked out.

"I don't think it ever occurred to me," Harry said. "I did have one teacher in third grade that was really nice to me. I remember she asked me about my clothes once, why they never seemed to quite fit. Looking back, I bet she would have listened if I had told her, but I didn't want her to know at the time. I suppose I worried she might think less of me if she knew that I slept in a cupboard."

He saw a tear run down Persephone's cheek and stopped walking. "It's all right now," he said. "It's all in the past. I don't live like that anymore. I've had a proper bedroom for years now, and I don't have to go back to the Dursleys' anymore."

"You never should have had to go there in the first place!" she cried and continued walking as though she needed to continue the momentum. "It's all my fault. I should have been there to take care of you."

"How is it your fault?" Harry asked. "You didn't ask to be shut up in that painting, did you?"

"No," Persephone said pitifully. "But I was stupid. I should have been paying more attention."

"Can't you tell me what happened?" Harry tried, but she shook her head. He took another approach. "Can you tell me how Malfoy rescued you then?"

"Only that he found me and figured out how to get me out of the painting and smuggled me back here," she said. Talking about Draco seemed to cheer her up. "He's quite clever, you know. It's been rough for him. We had to travel Muggle style, and I don't think he liked it very much."

Harry chuckled at the thought of Draco Malfoy traveling 'Muggle style'. "You were the girl in the Quibbler article," he surmised.

Persephone nodded. "We spent the night in the hotel. Bad bit of luck that we were seen, but I guess we stuck out a bit. Draco had his broom with him." Harry choked down another laugh. "We tried to find you first. That's why he took me by your house. I don't think your cousin liked me very much."

Harry had an image of Draco Malfoy walking through Little Whinging with his broomstick slung over his shoulder and banging on the Dursleys' front door. The image was simultaneously entertaining and worrisome. "Persephone, how do you know Malfoy was acting on his own? How do you know that he's not working with the Death Eaters?"

Persephone gave Harry a serious look. "I have a lot of faith in Draco. He gave up everything to bring me here. I trust him completely."

Harry wanted to argue the point, but he thought they had been getting along so far and did not want the afternoon to end in a row. "What was it like? To be trapped in that portrait?" he asked instead.

"Boooorrring," she said with a twisty sort of slump at the knees. "Ever so dull. It was like being in box with a window, but I was stuck up in an attic with sheet over me for most of it, so there wasn't even anything interesting to look at."

"I can't imagine. Didn't you get hungry?" asked Harry.

"Never," said Persephone, straightening up and shaking her head. "I never felt hungry or tired or anything. I guess it was part of the magic of the painting. Nothing about me changed physically. I guess it's a good thing I'd eaten not too long before and didn't have to go to the bathroom or anything. Twenty years like that would have been absolutely miserable. I might have gone mad."

"Please don't take this the wrong way," said Harry. "But why didn't you go mad?"

"I think I might have for a little while," said Persephone. "I don't know. I didn't really have a way to measure time, so I kept hoping someone would find me soon. Maybe in time for the dance. It was going to be my first one, and I wanted to go so badly. Severus had just asked me, and I was so excited."

"Snape asked you to a dance," said Harry, feeling slightly disgusted. "I thought you said that you and he were just friends."

"We were," she said looking slightly evasive. "But I liked him lots, and I was hoping...I went through that dance so many times in my head. Pictured it everyway it could possibly go. I think that's what kept me sane. Not just the dance, but daydreaming. I just sort of lived inside my head. I imagined what sort of life I might be having. Sometimes I fell into my daydreams so deeply I forgot where I was and everything seemed all right. I'd come to every now and again and remember, but I'm sure I looked awfully dull much of the time. I thought I might be dreaming the first time I heard Draco. Took me a bit before I thought he might be real."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, not entirely sure why he was apologizing.

"It's all right," Persephone said, taking his hand. "It's all in the past."

Harry had observed Persephone enough to know that she liked to touch people, but he was still unprepared for how much Persephone wanted to touch him. The Dursleys had never been affectionate with Harry. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had hugged him on occasion. Other friends had patted his shoulder or back as the moment called for. But those touches had always been infrequent and reserved. Persephone waited for no occasion. Now that her secret was out, she touched Harry as often as he would let her. She kept her hand on his arm while they walked and hugged him at random moments. He did not dislike her attention, but he thought it would take some getting used to.

He was starting to understand how embarrassed Malfoy had felt when Persephone made these displays of affection in public and why he never rebuked her for them. What he still did not understand was whether Malfoy actually deserved this affection.

****************

Harry thought he was most likely to get a straight answer from Malfoy if he cornered him alone. Malfoy skipped breakfast the next day, but he appeared for lunch. Harry waited for him to leave, asked Hermione to distract Persephone, and followed Draco. He waited until they had reached an empty hall before calling out to him.

"Malfoy! Hey, Malfoy!"

Draco stopped and turned around with a resigned look on his face.

"Persephone told me that you were the one who rescued her," said Harry. He was watching Malfoy for a reaction, but the pale boy just looked tired, as though he expected Harry to say exactly what he was saying and was simply waiting for him to finish. "She said you tried to bring her to me which is why you were at Privet Drive. Why didn't you tell me that?"

Draco looked away. "I'm not looking for thanks," he drawled.

"I wasn't trying to thank you," Harry said stiffly. Malfoy frowned and looked at Harry again. "I want to know what you're up to."

Draco looked annoyed. "It's all part of this wonderfully sinister plot I've concocted. So brilliant, even I don't understand it."

Harry knew Draco was attempting humor, but he wondered if there was some serious truth behind the words all the same. "I don't understand it either."

Draco's manner went from annoyed to exasperated. "For pity's sake, you Gryffindors wouldn't know sarcasm if it walked up, shook your hand, and introduced itself."

Harry was mildly exasperated himself. "Malfoy, you wouldn't know how to not be sarcastic, if I had Hermione write out instructions for you."

Bizarrely, his comeback seemed to have a calming effect on Malfoy. "What do you want, Potter?"

"An explanation," said Harry. "I am grateful that you saved Persephone. That is I would be if I were sure that's what happened. How do I know this isn't some ploy to gain my trust?"

"Do you trust me?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No," said Harry.

"Then it wasn't a very good ploy was it?" Malfoy said coolly.

Harry had to admit he had a point. "That's the part that confuses me," said Harry. "If you wanted me to trust you, why wait so long? Why didn't you tell me what was going on yourself?"

"You said it yourself," Draco said. "You don't trust me. If I had told you who Persephone was, would you have believed me?" Harry had to admit the he probably would not have. "Didn't think so."

Harry examined Draco. "That still doesn't tell me what you want. How do I know you're not working for Voldemort?"

Draco pulled up his sleeves and showed Harry the white of his forearms.

"All that tells me is that you haven't taken the mark," said Harry.

"Good point," Draco said flatly and pulled his sleeves back down. "If you don't trust me, and you don't trust Persephone, then I guess you don't know I'm not working for him. But I can tell you what I want." Draco took a few steps to close the distance between them. He was taller than Harry, and this forced Harry to look up at him. "I want out of it. I don't want to work for you, and I don't want to work for him. All I want is out of this whole bloody mess."

Harry instinctively wanted to step back, but he did not want Malfoy to think he was intimidated. He stood his ground and met Draco's grey eyes. The wild idea grabbed him that he might be able to use Legilimency. "Where's Voldemort?" he asked. He tried to touch Malfoy's mind, but all he met was walls. Malfoy looked down at Harry wide eyed, and Harry got the distinct impression that Malfoy knew exactly what he was trying to do. He did not look angry however, just surprised, perhaps a little amused. It annoyed Harry that he almost saw a touch of pity in Malfoy's expression.

"I already told you all I could," Draco said softly. "But even if I spelled it out for you, it wouldn't do you any good. I'm not going to be your spy, Potter. I said I want out, not in more deeply. You've got your aunt back. Be happy with that." Draco broke eye contact and stepped past Harry. Harry let him go. He watched Malfoy's back, wondering when and why he had learned Occlumency.

Malfoy stopped after five steps and turned around. "Persephone has a bit of an issue with animals so don't be stupid and try make her hold Granger's cat or something."

"I know," said Harry, a bit confused by the change in his tone.

Draco nodded, paused, and added. "And she's a bit sensitive about her hair, so I'd be careful how you talk about it...and I think she has a myrtlap allergy, so no potions with the essence in it."

Harry smirked and crossed his arms. "Do I need to take her on walks and check for flees?"

Draco scowled. "Just take care of her, Potter."

Harry softened in spite of himself. "You really like her, huh?"

"I like her a hell of a lot more than I like you," Draco said.

Harry smiled. "Funny, I could say the same."

"Cute," Draco muttered. He turned his back on Harry and walked away.

****************

Harry was not sure exactly what about the conversation with Malfoy had struck him, but he was left with the strong conviction that Draco Malfoy was no longer his enemy. He was not ready to go so far as to call him a friend or even an ally. Logically, he thought he could still make a very good case for not trusting Malfoy. Even so, he was unable to shake the feeling that a peace had been made.

Ron clearly was not sharing this feeling of goodwill. Harry did not try to dissuade him. Hermione seemed to have lost confidence in her reservations, and Harry thought it was prudent for at least one of them to be voicing suspicions.

He felt a little bad for having abandoned the D.A. for Ron and Hermione to manage, so he went to check on their progress a few days before term started. He made his excuses to Persephone and made his way up to the Room of Requirement to find it nearly empty. The Patil twins were sorting through a pile of Daily Prophets.

"Ron said he wanted everyone to get some field practice," Padma explained.

"I think he just wanted to have a snowball fight," said Parvati.

"Annie and Ginny were getting a bit stir crazy," added Padma. "I'm glad for the quiet."

"You're not the only one," Parvati said pointing to a pile of cushions in the corner of the room. Hermione was curled on top of them. Her face was hidden by a mass of bushy hair, but from her breathing, she was fast a sleep. The Dark Arts Outsmarted lay open beside her where it had fallen out of her hands.

"She's been staying up late reading even when she gets back to the dorm," Parvati whispered. "I think she's trying to find a way to end the war before classes start up again."

Harry shook his head in a bemused sort of way and dropped on the cushion pile beside Hermione. He pushed the hair back out of her face and shook her shoulder gently. "Hey."

Hermione stirred groggily and then sat up with a gasp. "Did I fall asleep?"

Harry grinned at her. "Yes." The Patils smirked at them and looked away. Harry lowered his voice. "I thought you were going to sleep over the holidays."

"Yes, but I didn't mean to do it here," Hermione said rubbing her eyes.

"Apparently you didn't mean to do it in your dorm room either," Harry said, keeping his voice low and his tone light. Hermione just blinked at him curiously. "Parvati told me you've been staying up. You can't keep this up, Hermione. You've got to sleep."

"I sleep."

"Not enough."

She gave him a stubborn look, so he decided to use stronger tactics. "Hermione, you have to start sleeping seven hours a night, or I'll kick you out of D.A."

"You can't kick me out of the D.A.!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Can so," said Harry. "I'm the leader. We voted. Seven hours."

"Six."

"Eight."

"You said seven! You can't go up."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You want to go for nine?"

"Fine, seven," Hermione snapped. "Though I'd like to see you try to get into the girls dorm to check."

"Don't have to," said Harry attempting to look cocky. "Got Parvati and Lavender to do that...and the map."

"The map won't tell you if I'm sleeping," said Hermione.

"Ah, the map holds many secrets..."

"Shut up," Hermione said, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand but smiling a bit as she did so.

"I'm serious though," Harry added. "I need you sharp. Won't do me a bit of good if you nod off in the middle of a Death Eater attack."

Perhaps Hermione took his threat seriously, finally saw the logic behind his concern, or perhaps she did not want to be teased for falling asleep in the Room of Requirement again, but Parvati reported that she had been submitting to her new sleep schedule. Harry thought she looked the better for it in her waking hours.

Harry was ready to return to his normal routine when the holidays ended, but it was still a reminder that the clock was ticking down to his last days at Hogwarts. Between Quidditch, N.E.W.T. workloads, and catching up the D.A., it was difficult making time to meet with Persephone, but she sought him out when she could. They were able to exchange friendly moments in the hall between classes and around meals. This was raising quite a few eyebrows, particularly after Persephone met him once with a running hug and several times insisted on holding his hand while they spoke. Harry was quite used to people being confused about his love life--assuming he had one for example--he forced himself to see the humor in the situation. Persephone seemed absolutely oblivious to the rumors.

He set aside some time to take another walk with her after a couple of weeks had passed and waited to meet her in the courtyard after classes. Persephone was later than he had expected, but Harry did not mind. He had brought Life of the Auror with him and was trying to make it through Chapter Four: Keeping Your Focus. He was distracted by the scene beyond the walls of the courtyard. It was wrapped in white like a Christmas card. The trees of the Forbidden Forest were heavy with ice and snow. With some effort he pulled his eyes away.

Across the courtyard, Harry saw Persephone hurrying out from the castle. She was clutching her books to her chest and looked like she had been crying or was about to cry. Harry walked forward to meet her.

A gaggle of Slytherins was waiting by the door to the courtyard.

"What's wrong, P?" Pansy Parkinson called. "Did you have a fight with Professor Snape?" Pansy seemed to expect a laugh from this, but the other Slytherins just stared at her wide-eyed.

Harry opened his mouth to tell her off, but it was Draco's voice that came out. "Shut it, Pansy," Malfoy snarled at her. "You don't know anything."

Persephone glanced at them, then turned her eyes toward the courtyard. She spotted Harry and ran towards him. Pansy and Draco got into an argument, and Harry led Persephone away. "Do they always tease you like that?" Harry asked. He was feeling very defensive of Persephone. She was his aunt, but the right age to be a little sister. He wanted to step into his father's role of big brother.

"No, it's just Pansy," Persephone said sniffing. "And just recently." There was a tear rolling down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her sleeve. "I wouldn't let her get to me, but she's right."

"What? You had a fight with Snape?"

"Not exactly, he just told me I couldn't come to his office so much anymore." She rubbed her entire forearm across her eyes. When, she dropped it, the tears had been wiped off, but her face looked a bit red. She exhaled, which was visible in the cold air. "He said I should forget about him, look at boys my own age."

"I think that's good advice," Harry said, trying to sound older and wiser. "I'm sure there are loads of boys who would like to take you out."

"You just don't like the idea of Snape as an uncle," she said.

"True," he said. "But you're young. I don't think you should settle on anybody just yet. Forget about Snape for a minute, is there anyone else who catches your fancy."

Persephone sniffed again and tilted her head to the side. "Well, Draco Malfoy's pretty good looking, and I do owe him for rescuing me this summer."

"UGH!" Harry squealed, his face twisting into a look of horror. "What are trying to do to me?"

Persephone eyed him mischievously, then burst out into a fit of laughter. "Oh, very funny," Harry snapped. Persephone bumped him playfully.

"Oh, lighten up, Harry," she said. "Draco's not that bad, and anyway you're missing the point."

"Not that bad? He tried to kill me last year!"

"Well, it didn't work, did it?"

"Why does everyone keep brushing that off?" Harry wondered in exasperation.

"I'm not," Persephone apologized. "Draco told me about it, and I think he's sorry. He doesn't want to try again anyway."

"Oh," Harry said sarcastically. "Well, that makes everything all better."

"I know it doesn't, Harry." Persephone touched his arm. "But Draco's trying to sort himself out. It's hard and confusing. I know it's not easy on you either, but if you could give him another chance."

"I don't trust him," Harry insisted.

"I don't expect you to," Persephone soothed. "I don't expect you to trust me either. Trust has to be earned, and you don't know me. Not really. Not yet."

"I think I trust people a little too easily," she confided. "It's come back and bit me pretty hard."

Harry pushed back a few strands back from her face. He wanted to assure her that he did trust her and that she could trust him. She was family after all. But, she was also right. Real trust would take time. Too many things about her were a mystery. Too many things still bothered him.

She smiled shyly at his touch, then looked down and clapped her hands together. "But the point is that I don't need a boyfriend. I want Severus."

"But why?" Harry groaned, trying not to sound too disgusted. "He's old and crabby."

"He's not that old. He was only one year above me in school." She held up her index finger for emphasis. "And he's only thirty-seven now."

"He's only thirty-seven?" That should not have surprised Harry. He had known Snape went to Hogwarts the same year as his father. But Harry's parents were forever young in his photographs. And there was something worn about Snape that made him seem much older.

"He's been through a lot. If you had been through what he has, then you'd be crabby too." Persephone kicked up some snow with her shoe. "And a lot of it was because of me."

They had reached the far end of the courtyard. They paused there, and Harry stuck his hand in his pockets for warmth. He wanted to change the subject. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded.

"Why did that boggart turn in to you on Halloween? Was the secret you were keeping just that you were my aunt?"

"It's not just that," said Persephone looking down at her shoes. Harry waited for more of an answer. Apprehension threatened to spill over him. "Everyone tells me secrets. I'm not sure why, maybe it's part of the whole silver child thing. Most of them are the silly kind, nothing scary, but people tell me a lot of big ones too. Secrets that might cause trouble if they came out in the wrong way. I know I talk too much. Normally I don't try to hide much about myself. So I'm always worried, always terrified I'm going to let something out at the wrong time or not tell it at the right time."

"Oh," said Harry. Understanding her fear made him like Persephone a little better.

"I think it may have worked out in the long run," Persephone continued. "Kagome was really happy about it. She hasn't been able to talk to anyone in ages."

"Whose Kagome?" Harry asked.

Persephone pursed her lips, looking like she may have just spilled one of those secrets she was worried about. "It's the boggart's name."

"The boggart has a name?!"

"Well, I got to thinking about it," Persephone went on quickly. "And I thought how dreadful it must be always turning into some scary monster and not ever being able to talk to anyone. And she couldn't pull the secrets straight out of my head, so I went back to talk to her. Or it, or he, we're not really sure about the proper gender, but since she looked like me, she used a girl's name. It's really hard being a boggart, having to feed on fear and creep about in the dark. And you can't talk, so you can't tell anyone about it. Only thing you can do is try to scare them. But once she realized she couldn't scare me off, Kagome was actually quite friendly."

Harry stared at Persephone with a dropped jaw. "You made friends with a boggart?" He felt a flash of realization as to what it must have been like for his father to have a sister like this. Chatting up future Death Eaters, making friends with poltergeists and ghouls. This was the kind of girl for whom they made warnings about strangers with candy.

Persephone shrugged. Her guilty face showing she knew it was not the safest thing to do. "Well, she was lonely."

"Are you just naturally attracted to dark things?" Harry asked. "Is that why you got in Slytherin?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I wanted to be in Slytherin. Well, not Slytherin in particular, but definitely not in Gryffindor."

Harry was shocked. "Why not? My father...James was in Gryffindor."

"That's exactly why," Persephone said. "James was always teasing me. He kept telling me that when I went to Hogwarts everyone would make fun of me because of my hair and eyes. I think Mama and Papa were expecting me to go into Gryffindor, but I thought it would be worse if I was in the same house as James. I'd never get away from him. When I went up to put on the sorting hat. James and his friends started singing 'Silver child with hair quite wild'. McGonagall shushed them, but I just felt awful embarrassed. I put the sorting hat on my head and just kept thinking 'not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor'. It felt like forever, but the hat finally said 'Slytherin!'

"I was so relieved. James looked shocked. Then all the Slytherins started singing the 'Silver Child' charm, but the way they did it was different. It was like they were proud to get me. And I felt so happy. James said they did it to spite him, but everyone was so kind to me. None of them made fun. And after that, Lucius looked out for me. He wouldn't let James tease me as much. And once, he took me under his wing, well he was really popular, so all the other Slytherins sort of followed suit-"

"Do you mean, Lucius Malfoy?" Harry blurted, horror struck.

"Yes," Persephone said. Her tone dropped as she came back to the present. "Draco's father."

Harry took a step back from her, not wanting to stand close anymore. "He's a Death Eater. A murderer. He's helping Voldemort right now."

"I know..." Persephone began softly. "I know what he is now. But it wasn't like that when we were at school. He was kind, and he was smart. He was a prefect and Quidditch Captain and Head Boy. He took care of us. He was..." Persephone stopped and swallowed. She leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard for support. "He was my friend."

They stood there quietly for a long time. Persephone was fighting back fresh tears, and Harry was fighting back his anger. The anger was only indirectly towards Persephone. Lucius Malfoy was one of the few people that Harry genuinely hated. Knowing that he had been school chums with his father's sister only made Harry loathe him more. It was a similar feeling of revulsion that he had towards Peter Pettigrew.

"I don't believe," he said breaking the silence. "I don't believe that people just suddenly go bad. I don't believe there aren't warning signs."

Persephone considered this. Concentration dried her eyes. At length, she said, "He never pretended to like Muggles. He thought a lot about bloodlines and being a proper wizard. I know he said he did not think they should let Muggle-borns into the school. But...it was talk. I never saw him do anything to someone because they weren't part of a proper wizarding family. He never played pranks on the Hufflepuffs. And it wasn't like bloodlines were all we talked about. We talked about schoolwork and Quidditch and who had gone with whom to some silly party or other. It hardly came up really. There wasn't that much tension between the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs or the Ravenclaws, nothing beyond the normal cup competition. The nasty stuff was all between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"And you didn't see anything wrong with that?" Harry said spitefully.

"Of course I saw something wrong with it," Persephone said, hugging her arms to her chest. "I hated it, but what was I supposed to do? Lucius and his friends were so nice me. They liked me. Unlike James, they actually wanted me around. I didn't want to ruin that by arguing over politics."

"POLITICS?!" Harry repeated loudly. Persephone flinched, and he realized he had drawn quite a few stares from the other students in the courtyard. He had enough of a handle on his anger to realize he did not want witnesses if this turned into a row. "Come on," he muttered. He headed out of the courtyard and started to make tracks through the snow-covered grounds towards the lake.

Persephone followed and fell into step beside him. "Are you angry with me?" she asked tentatively.

Harry started to say no, then he started to say yes. He settled on, "A bit." His fingers had balled into fists in his pockets. "I suppose I shouldn't be. Lucius Malfoy pulled the wool over the eyes of half the Ministry. But I was hoping you'd have seen through him. That you would hate him as much as I do."

"I could never hate Lucius," Persephone said softly.

"If you knew what I knew about him, you would," Harry said hotly. "If you had seen him as I have. Heard his voice coming from a Death Eaters hood. Heard him laugh while Voldemort tortured you. Heard him tell his fellow Death Eaters to kill your friends. It wasn't just talk."

Persephone gave a small pained gasp. "I know, Harry. I mean I understand why you hate him. I couldn't expect you to feel any other way. But I can't." Her eyes squeezed shut. Harry wanted to argue with her further, but she seemed to need a moment. They had nearly reached the lake before she spoke again. "You don't know how sad it is. To see someone so good, someone with so much potential...go so bad like that. You don't know how sick it makes me."

"He's evil," Harry said stubbornly.

"Well, everyone is to some degree aren't they?" she said with a desperate air. "I mean we all do bad things now and again."

"And again and again and again in his case," retorted Harry. "How can you think so fondly of him and so little of my father?"

"James did his share of bad things too." Persephone was breathing a bit more heavily now. "Maybe after I was gone, he got better and Lucius got worse, but I've just heard about these things, Harry. I wasn't there! I missed the war. I missed everyone being grownup. I just remember what they were like at school."

Harry stared out at the water. He was feeling anger born of severe disappointment. He had assumed that someone who would start a club like the Forum, who hated Voldemort so much, would naturally hate Lucius Malfoy too.

"I wish you could understand," Persephone moaned piteously. "I mean how would you feel, if you came back after twenty years and found out Ron had murdered someone?"

"He wouldn't do that," Harry said loyally.

"You're sure are you?" asked Persephone.

"Yes."

"Well, so was I," she said quietly.

Harry started walking along the edge of the lake, not really caring if Persephone followed, though she did. There was a strangely helpless feeling well up inside his chest. He was angry at Persephone for comparing Ron to Lucius Malfoy. They were a completely different breed. Ron was never cruel. Ron never mocked someone for being different. Ron never talked about killing anyone, not seriously anyway.

But that's not entirely true is it? a small voice in Harry's head asked. Things Ron had said that sounded funny at the time but could be cruel if taken out of context crept back into his memory. Maybe you just assumed he wasn't serious. Maybe you were wrong.

Harry shook his head, refusing to accept the possibility. Ron might have been angry sure, might have felt like doing that, daydreamed about it. Everybody did at some point. Harry had. But he would never actually take that last step. Harry knew Ron too well, knew his limits.

But what if that changed? the little voice peeped up again. What if Ron changed somehow? What makes people take that last step and cross that line?

No, not Ron. Ron will never be a dark wizard. That's absurd.

But if he did? If you were the Auror, and he had done something horrible, reprehensible, would you hunt him? Could you hate him?

I'd stop him for his own good, Harry thought. But I wouldn't hate him. I couldn't.

(A small part of his brain knew that that was Persephone's point. That she had not been trying to imply anything about Ron. However Persephone had inadvertently opened a box of anxieties that Harry had tried to bury with Peter Pettigrew. What if one of his friends betrayed him?)

Forgiveness had been the last thing on the mind of Sirius and Lupin, but then Peter had caused the death of someone they dearly loved. What if Ron hurt Hermione? But he wouldn't! What if it was Ginny or Luna? He wouldn't!! Sirius, Lupin, and Harry's father had just missed the signs about Wormtail.

Maybe he was... Harry's head was beginning to hurt. He decided to shut down this ridiculous train of thought, before he ended up like Moody. Ron was not going to betray him. End of story. But what about Dean or Seamus? Lavender or Parvati? He didn't think any of them would go bad, but could he be wrong about them?

"Maybe you're just a really bad judge of character," Harry said out loud to Persephone.

"That could be true," she conceded.

Harry seized upon the mental escape she offered. That's it. She's a bad judge of character. Being, in a sense, the older and wiser Potter, he would just have to look out for her.

Persephone tripped over a bump in the path, and Harry put a hand on her elbow to steady her. She gave him a grateful and slightly embarrassed smile.

"I want to show you something, Harry," she said. "Severus said he taught you some Legilimency."

"A long time ago," Harry replied. "He didn't exactly finish the lesson."

"You don't need to know much," Persephone said. "I just want to show you a memory."

"A memory?"

"From when I was at Hogwarts before," she looked down shyly. "I thought maybe if I could show you what it was like. You might understand me better."

"I saw one of Professor Snape's memories," Harry said. "That's how I knew what he had said to my mother, but he had a Pensieve. How are you going to show me a memory? I didn't think Legilimency worked like that."

"It doesn't normally," Persephone said. "Severus said I'm the only one he's ever met that can do it. Probably part of the whole Silver Child thing. He says my mind is just more neatly organized than a lot of people's. I can hold on a single memory much longer. I think that his very nice way of saying I'm more simple minded than average." She grinned. Harry continued to look confused, so she continued explaining. "We used to practice with each other. We discovered you can use Occlumency to guide someone to a thought as well as keep them out. I was never very good at Legilimency. I could only get very brief ideas and images from Severus, but I did catch on with Occlumency pretty well. I could show him entire scenes."

She took Harry's hand and led him to sit on a bench-sized stone near the path. "As long as you know the basic spell, I think I can guide you."

Harry studied her eyes, feeling both intrigued and apprehensive. "What would you show me?" he asked.

"Did you see what happened after Severus said what he did to Lily?" asked Persephone.

"I saw a bit of it," Harry said hesitantly.

"Did you see when I came up?"

"No, I didn't get that far."

"Well, it wasn't the memory I had in mind, but I think it might give you some idea what it was like between me and James," said Persephone. There was an 'it's-all-for-the-best' ring to her tone that Harry did not like.

"No, I don't want to see that. Can't you show me a happy memory? Surely you have one." He knew what Persephone wanted to do was provide some examples of James bullying, so that he would understand her fondness for the Slytherins better. Harry however had decided that he did not want or need to understand. He could accept her without understanding, maybe even come to trust her with time, and that should be enough for both of them. What he wanted and needed far more desperately was a fond image of his father. Something kind and substantial that he could hold onto, an image to attach to the stories and reassurances that his father had been in essence good.

Persephone seemed to have trouble switching mental gears. She was quiet long enough for Harry to start to feel anxious when she said, "Yes, I have one."

"Just one?" he asked with forced levity.

Persephone smirked. "Well, just one I can think of right now. We fought a lot. Easier to find examples of that, but this one was good." She held her hand up, and Harry pressed his palm against hers. "It helps me focus."

"What do I do?" asked Harry.

"Just use the spell and let me guide you," said Persephone.

Harry took his wand from his pocket with his free hand and pointed it at his temple. "Legilimens."

A stream of images passed through Harry's mind, the familiar halls of Hogwarts, clusters of students waving, Snape's face, a kidney shaped library in a white walled mansion, the Slytherin common room, shelves packed with bottles of potions ingredients. Harry was straining, searching for an image of his father.

"Stop!" Persephone yelped, and Harry found himself looking at her silver hair and eyes once more. Her silver brows had tightened into a disapproving scowl. "Harry, you're trying too hard! Don't go barreling around in my head. Relax, let me guide you."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"Once again now and relax."

"Legilimens."

Harry was once again gliding through the halls of Hogwarts or at least halls like those of Hogwarts. The halls became white and then blue-grey. He found himself stopped at a door, which opened, and the world fell back into resembling real time and space. He was in a living room with high, dark green walls and a white, unlit fireplace. Persephone was standing by a record player, looking even smaller and younger than she did now. She slid a record out of its pocket and placed it on the spinner.

There was a loud sound from the other side of the door.

"Mama?" Persephone called out in her oddly French sounding way. "Mama? Is that Remus?"

There was no reply. Persephone did not seem perturbed by this. She set the needle on the record. It began piping out lively music that seemed more appropriate to the nineteen forties than the Victorian style of the house and furnishings, and Harry reminded himself this all was taking place in the seventies. Persephone crossed the room while music filled its corners and pushed open the door. Beyond it was a blue-grey kitchen with a very large fireplace and a blocky center island. There was a woman standing at it chopping bits of vegetables. Harry liked her instantly. She had a kind, naturally beautiful face framed by soft ringlets. She wore graceful, high collared robes, and the rest of her dark blonde hair was pulled up into a neat bun.

"What do you want?" a teenage boy asked snappishly. Harry recognized his father, looking not much older than he had been in the last memory Harry had seen of him. Beside him was Sirius, handsome as before though his dark hair was a bit longer.

"James, leave her be," admonished the woman, Harry's grandmother, in a tired sort of way, as though she had said the same thing many times before.

Persephone stuck her tongue out at her brother and made her way around the island to the fourth person in the room. "Remus, come on! I want to show you something!"

A sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin was standing just outside the fireplace and dusting soot off his clothes. He looked up and smiled awkwardly at being singled out.

"I'm sure it's very important," said Sirius with mock-sincerity. Persephone ignored him, grabbed Remus's hand, and dragged him back into the room where the record player was piping out lively music. Remus stumbled slightly, but he looked more curious than annoyed.

"Papa brought home some new Muggle music," she explained excitedly over the upbeat thrum. "It's called big band. Do you like it?"

Remus laughed at her enthusiasm and nodded.

"It's not new music, hissy," said James from the door, where he and Sirius were posed with bemused looks. "That stuff's been around for decades."

"Well, it's new to me," Persephone shot back prissily. She turned back to Lupin with a big smile and took his hands. "Come on, Remus! Dance with me!" Lupin spun Persephone out and moved one foot and his shoulders in a reserved sort of sway. Persephone made a bit more of an effort, but it was soon clear that she was not a very good dancer.

James and Sirius exchanged a pained look of amusement. James crossed the room and took Persephone's arms. With the air that he was doing a favor to mankind, he began to dance with her. It soon became clear that James was a very good dancer. Persephone even improved as he took the lead. She smiled brightly as he lead her through turns. James even lost his put upon manner after a few seconds and seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. As the song ended, James spun his sister one last time, and they both collapsed onto the sofa to catch their breath. Sirius sat down besides James, his head cocked in such a way to imply that he was too cool to be amused by such silliness. Lupin was smiling and settled into one of the armchairs opposite them.

James left his arm stretched across the back of the couch, and Persephone nestled against him, looking happy and comfortable.

"You seriously need to take lessons this summer," said James. "You're terrible."

Persephone giggled. "You could teach me," she suggested.

"I supposed I'll have to," said James. "Can't have you besmirching the family name."

"I'm not that bad," Persephone protested with a laugh.

"Yes, you are," James and Sirius said together. Lupin nodded his agreement.

"Oh, like you're any better," said Persephone, not quite managing to scowl at Lupin.

"I never claimed to be," Lupin said, holding his hand up in a placating gesture.

"You know, she does have a point, Moony," said Sirius. "I think you best train them both, Padfoot."

"For the honor of Gryffindor?" asked James.

"For the honor of Gryffindor," Sirius agreed firmly.

Lupin rolled his eyes at them. "I think I'm a hopeless case."

"Nonsense," said James. "If hissy here can learn to dance, I'm sure you can."

"I haven't learned yet," Persephone reminded him.

"Another good, point. I take it back, Moony. You may indeed be a hopeless case," said James, his fingers lazily playing with Persephone's puff of hair. "We'll have to see how this one turns out first."

"Do you think I'll turn out?"

"I'll give you good odds," said James with a fond smile.

"Why can't you be this nice all the time?" Persephone asked her brother.

"Well, we have a reputation to maintain," said James. "Can't be seen consorting with the enemy. Actually, teaching you the deep, dark secrets of footwork may be a violation the Gryffindor code. We may just have to consult the Sorting Hat about transferring you to Gryffindor."

"Oh no, Sephie's too big of fraidy cat to get into Gryffindor," said Sirius sagely.

Persephone stuck her tongue out at him. "Am not, but I happen to like Slytherin, thank you very much."

"Why?" James groaned. "It can't be for the company."

"I like my friends!" Persephone insisted.

"She likes Snivellus," Sirius said in a sneering tone.

"Don't call him that!" Persephone snapped at him.

James was giving Sirius a rather icy look as well. "She doesn't like Snivelly," he said flatly.

Persephone whacked James with the flat of her palm. "His name is Severus, and I like him very much."

"Why?" James groaned in disgusted tone.

"He's very nice," Persephone said. Sirius snorted with disbelief. "He's nice to me at least," Persephone amended prissily.

"Yeah, well, there a reason for that isn't there?" Sirius said airily. James gave him a particularly piercing glare. Sirius acted like he did not notice, but he said nothing more.

"You could do a lot better," said James, giving Persephone's shoulder a squeeze, and giving Lupin a different sort of look.

Persephone, who missed the look, just made a dismissive sort of noise.

"You're really going to teach me how to dance?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," said James. "But as this may considered an act of treason. You're forbidden to tell a soul."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll turn your hair green."

Persephone rolled her eyes, though she did not move away from her brother. "You do, and I'll tell Mama."

"Tattletale."

There was a loud thump that issued from the kitchen, followed by Mrs. Potter calling through the door. "James! Peter is here!" A few seconds later, the door opened to admit a small, mousy looking boy.

"Wormtail!" Sirius announced happily. Remus and James chorused with their own welcomes. Even Persephone joined in. "Hello, Peter!" she called out, waving in a large arch from the sofa.

Harry felt anger surge through him, and he broke the connection with Persephone and pulled himself out of the scene. He was sitting once again on the bench by the lake. He took his hands off Persephone's and placed them on his lap.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Persephone asked, giving him a confused look.

"Sorry," Harry said. He glanced down at his hands to find they were shaking slightly and curled them into fists. "I didn't expect him to be there."

Persephone continued to look confused, and Harry realized she did not know. "Peter Pettigrew is the one who betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort. He's the reason they're dead."

Persephone's mouth fell open. "But that can't be true," she said in a tight voice. "Peter loved James."

"They made him their secret keeper. Without him, Voldemort never could have found them."

Persephone's hand went to her mouth as though she might be sick. "What happened to him?" she asked.

"He died last year," Harry said. He did not want to tell the rest of the story but knew Persephone would ask if he did not volunteer the information. "He finally realized he was on the wrong side or had a burst of conscious or just felt that he owed me one as I spared his life a few years back. He tried to help me escape, and Voldemort killed him for it."

Persephone closed her eyes. "Poor Peter," she muttered.

"Don't feel too sorry for him," said Harry. "He killed thirteen Muggles during the first war to fake his own death. And he was the one who brought Voldemort back and restored him to power. And he killed Cedric Diggory. He was a vicious coward."

Persephone did not say anything. She just nodded and turned her face away. Secretly Harry was glad there was someone who could grieve for Pettigrew, because he could not. One good act could not undo a lifetime of crimes.

"I have another memory," said Persephone. "Just me and James. Do you want to see?" Harry nodded.

They pressed their palms together again. Harry found himself in the hospital wing this time. It had not changed much in twenty years. Moonlight spilled through the window illuminating the bed, most of them filled with sleeping students. A staggering echo of coughs interrupted the otherwise silent ward.

Persephone was lying in the bed nearest Harry. She was snuggled on a short stack of pillows, fist by her mouth as though awaiting the next cough. Her eyes were open a sliver, but she showed no sign of consciousness. Persephone looked even younger than she had in the last memory.

"Hey, hissy?" a sourceless whisper was followed by the air splitting to reveal a head. James must have covered himself with his invisibility cloak. "Persephone?" he asked in a softer voice. "Are you awake?"

Persephone moaned softly and opened her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked sleepily.

"Smuggled you some hot chocolate," said James, pulling his other arm and a mug out from under the invisibility cloak. "How are you feeling?"

Persephone pushed herself up to rest her back against her pillows. "Sick," she said in a stuffy voice. She squinted her silver eyes at James. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Only if I get caught," said James, putting the hot chocolate on the stand by her bed. "So don't tell anyone I was here, or I'll turn your hair green."

Persephone stuck her tongue out at him, but she picked up the mug and took a sip. James put a hand on her forehead as though checking for fever and brushed a few stray strands of silver away.

"Thanks," Persephone said when she had finished drinking. There was a creaking sound from the other side of the room.

"Gotta run," James said. He kissed Persephone on the forehead and pulled the invisibility cloak back over his head. "Get better, hissy."

Persephone gave the mug back to him and quickly snuggled under the covers. The scene dissolved, but Harry believe this time it was because Persephone had fallen asleep, ending the memory.

"Thank you," Harry told the modern day Persephone once the real world had come back into focus.

She gave him a small smile. "I haven't thought about that night in a long time. I missed getting to see James grown up."

"Did he ever really turn your hair green?" asked Harry.

Persephone's eyes went round. "Five Times!!" Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing. "It's not funny," Persephone insisted. "I thought it made me look like a banshee. James said...well, he said it did. Told you he was a bully."

Harry could not help himself. He laughed.

****************

Professor McGonagall corned Harry and Padma after Transfiguration to tell him that it was the head boy and girl's responsibility to find a band for the Leaving Dance. Again Padma volunteered to take care of it. Harry said he would make a lousy head boy if he kept skiving off his duties, but Padma told him not to worry about it. Padma waved away his concerns. "You have bigger things on your mind."

Harry did not try to argue the point.

Dean reported that the Forum had returned to its original focus. Persephone was dropping none too subtle hints that she wanted Harry to start coming again, but Harry's excuses were genuine.

Slytherin won their game against Hufflepuff, which put them back in the running and took Hufflepuff completely out of it, and the new Ravenclaw seeker had Ginny nervous. When Harry was not training extra hard for Quidditch, he was steeped in homework for his N.E.W.T. level classes. All Hermione's dire predictions about his lack of preparation were coming true. Harry's attempts to modify Memory Potion was laughable even by his own standards. Under normal circumstance, Harry would have expected ridicule from Snape, but the Potions Master no longer seemed to care. He avoided even looking at Harry or Hermione and spent most of class time sitting at his desk, staring at nothing in particular.

Malfoy seemed equally distracted. He sat at his own table away from the Slytherin girls and was only half-heartedly attending to his own experiments. Harry caught him often looking at Snape as well as the general direction of the table that he shared with Hermione. Draco did not looked abashed when Harry returned his stare. It was as though Malfoy wanted to start a conversation, but not knowing how to begin or what to say, settled for watching the one he wanted to talk to. Harry was starting to find it a little annoying.

Hermione was doing something impressive with Wolfsbane and silenced Harry with a glare whenever he thought about asking for advice. Neville was willing to offer suggestions, but Snape would raise his own voice then long enough to say "Mr. Longbottom" in a discouraging tone until the room fell silent once again.

Hermione gave Snape a sad look and Malfoy a curious one before returning to her potion. She had tried apologizing to Snape for her accusations against him without much luck. He had simply lectured her on the steps a perfect should take if they suspect inappropriate behavior from a teacher and had not acknowledged the apology.

Persephone was more accepting. Hermione had started tutoring her after Christmas break. Malfoy had reportedly joined some of these sessions. When Ron raised concerns, Hermione claimed he was tutoring Persephone in other subjects, and that she was hoping to figure out what he was up to. Harry was a little surprised that Malfoy would let himself be seen with Hermione, but he supposed Persephone enforced the peace. Maybe she thought Harry would forgive Draco if he saw him acting civil to a Muggle-born, particularly one Harry cared about. In all honesty, it did not hurt. He only worried that Malfoy was attempt to worm information from Hermione as she was attempting to worm it from him.

****************

The few moments that Harry took from study and Quidditch were dedicated to the D.A. They had exhausted the history books and speculation over what Voldemort's reasons for staying silent so long might be. The charts and maps and timelines were all reasonably complete, and the Death Eaters had given them nothing new to add. Harry turned the focus of D.A. meetings back to learning and practicing new spells simply to keep the members from getting bored.

He had been considering telling Persephone about the Dumbledore's Army since Dean's report, but it was Hermione's recommendation that the time had come, which led him to show her the Room of Requirement.

Harry knew Persephone well enough now that he thought it best to show her the Room of Requirement the first time without anyone else present. This proved to be wise. While Harry did not mind the long stream of praises, exclamations, and suggestions that poured from his aunt, he felt the display might be a little embarrassing, not to mention take up too much time, at an actual D.A. meeting.

A few of Persephone's suggestions were actually useful. She offered to coordinate the Forum with the D.A.'s activities, using it as a screen for new members among other things. Harry gave her the date and time of the next meeting. After a long debate he agreed to let her bring a small group of Slytherins with her.

Harry asked Persephone to come to the meeting about fifteen minutes after the other student had arrived. He wanted time to prepare them, particularly after the disaster that had occurred the last time Slytherins entered the Room of Requirement.

The reaction was varied. Some of the students, like Hermione, seemed to think the addition of Slytherins brought the D.A. to the fullness of its potential. Some of them did not mind Persephone but were anxious to know who the others were, and Harry had to admit he had no names. Others, particularly those in Harry's year, were clearly distressed by the idea, and Harry spent the remaining few minutes calming nerves.

The room fell tense and silent as door opened. Persephone stuck her head in first, then motion to those outside the door to follow her inside. Harry's eyes widened slightly as Millicent Bulstrode stepped inside followed by Victoria Dey, a sixth year girl who looked vaguely familiar, and a younger boy Harry did not recognize.

The Slytherins hovered uncertainly by the door, until Harry stood and gestured for them to come forward. He offered them seats near the front and gave them a formal introduction to the group, explaining the basic practices of the D.A. in case Persephone had not. Everyone still seemed a little tense, the Slytherins included, so Harry suggested they watch for a little while everyone else broke into pairs to practice counter-jinxes. A few others like Ginny stopped by to congratulate Persephone and the other Slytherins on joining.

Once the practice was underway, Harry left Ron and Hermione to monitor and sat down on the cushions beside his aunt. "I'm a little surprised you didn't bring Malfoy," he told her quietly.

Persephone rolled her eyes. "I tried to. He won't come because he thinks one of the other Slytherins is spying on him."

"Are they?" asked Harry. Persephone shrugged.

"Actually, I'm a little surprised to see you here," Harry told Millicent, who had been listening, in a clearer voice. "You were on the Inquisitorial Squad two years ago."

"My family supports the Ministry," said Millicent. "We didn't really know what the D.A. did before. We thought it was an anti-Ministry group."

"It's an anti-Voldemort group," said Harry. The two Slytherins that Harry did not know were giving him their rapt attention now. "But the Ministry was denying that he had returned, so we try to avoid their interference."

"They're admitting he's back now," Millicent said pointedly.

"Yes," Harry conceded. "But I still don't think they would be too enthusiastic about students organizing this way. Some of the defensive magic we practice is pretty advanced." Harry saw a spark of excitement in the eyes of the blonde sixth year. Millicent just cocked her head in an accepting sort of way.

Persephone grinned at him. "Harry, this is Laurel Hedgebottom and Jasper Smith," she said. "I wanted to ask Chessann to come too, but she had Quidditch practice. Laurel's in my class, and Jasper's father is an Auror. I think you've met Victoria--"

"My father's a Death Eater," Victoria said. Her voice had no inflection, but her proud, dark eyes challenged Harry to object to her on these grounds. Harry was not sure how to react. Some of the people practicing nearby must have been listening, because they fell still. Seamus Finnigan forgot this counter-jinx and was knocked back by the force of Dean's jinx. Hermione hurried over to take care of the small tentacles that were sprouting from Seamus's skin. "I have to write him weekly reports," Victoria added, still looking at Harry in a very off-putting way. Even the other Slytherins were looking at Victoria uncomfortably.

Persephone gave the small, dark girl a patient look. "What Victoria means is that she's offering to let you edit what she sends to her father. She wants to help."

"Oh," Harry said, still unsure. "Is that what you meant?"

Victoria gave a single nod, and Harry relaxed a little bit. "Thank you," he said as the weight of what she was offering settled on him.

"There," Hermione said in a triumphant tone. "Told you having Slytherins in the D.A. would be useful."

The Slytherins seemed eager to join in the practice, so Harry let them pair up. After a few rounds, he tried to coax other members of the D.A. to work with the Slytherins, so they would not be segregated. Laurel and Jasper were easy enough, but no one wanted to face off with Victoria, so he gave in and let her stay paired with Millicent. Harry offered to work with Persephone, but she shook her head. "I'm not allowed to point my wand at anyone," she said seriously. "It's temperamental," she explained when Harry raised his eyebrow. "Part of this I guess." She touched her hair, and Harry decided not to press for more details until after the meeting.

He let the practice carry on for about ten minutes or so before calling everyone back to their seats. Once they were settled, he made another formal matter of having the new members sign the magic contract to keep the D.A. a secret. Laurel looked a little nervous about the hex attached to the parchment, but she signed anyway. The other members seemed to relax a bit after the Slytherins had signed.

After the Slytherins had returned to their seats, Harry opened up discussion for the best way to coordinate the Forum and D.A. so that the two groups were working together without being redundant. Many of the ideas were things that he and Persephone had already discussed, but Harry wanted to be encouraging and listened as though each idea was brilliant and new. He was genuinely happy to give his think tank something new to mull over.

When interest in the topic of the Forum began to wane, Harry opened up the floor for speculation on what Voldemort might be planning. The D.A. had rehashed this topic a hundred times, and the attitude in the room became that of a repressed sigh. Several people looked immediately bored and began muttering in undertones to their neighbor. A few people seemed to understand that he was trying to fish for new information from the Slytherins without singling them out. Unfortunately, it seemed that Victoria did not know anything about her father's activities beyond that he was a Death Eater.

Harry was about to move on to another topic, when Persephone spoke in an oddly calm voice. "He's going to attack the school."

"What?" said Harry, though he had heard her perfectly well. The murmured conversations dropped off.

Persephone blinked as though waking and realized that everyone was staring at her. She turned slightly pink. For a moment Harry thought she was too embarrassed to continue, but Persephone visibly steeled herself and got to her feet. "Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" she said looking about for support. "He took a big blow at the end of last year, and he's been quiet since then. We know he wasn't injured. He still has followers so he can't be quiet because he's weak. He has too be plotting something. And it must be taking a lot of time to prepare, so it has to be big. He'll want to show everyone how strong he is, so it will probably be something flashy. And Hogwarts isn't just a school. It's a castle, steeped in really old magic and protections. And...and well, it's symbolic, probably more so than the Ministry and easier to take. It does make sense."

Harry stared at Persephone. He could see holes in her logic, but instinct told him not to dismiss the idea. Hogwarts was just the sort of prize that Voldemort would covet. He had made a bid for the school before. Why not again? The voices of the students were rising in argument and protest. A few of them looked on verge of panic. Harry blew his whistle.

The arguments broke off, and everyone looked at Harry expectantly. Harry's mind was racing, not from panic so much as an odd sort of excitement. "We don't have any real reason to think that Voldemort is planning to attack the school," he said, ignoring Persephone's scowl. "However, I think it's a possibility that we should make plans for. If the Death Eaters do attack the school, I want them to find an organized resistance not a bunch of scared kids. Hogwarts is ours, not theirs."

Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott gave a loud, "Here, here!" It was echoed by others. Harry smiled. Regardless of what Voldemort's real plans were, he now knew exactly what he wanted to do with the D.A. He wanted to do everything the Ministry had feared and turn it into Dumbledore's Army.

****************

Preparing for the possibility of an attack on Hogwarts gave the D.A. exactly what it was lacking. Focus. The D.A. began to work out "emergency plans", and the Forum began discussing basic defense. Harry and Padma used their place as head boy and girl to try to recruit more of the prefects into the D.A. Ron and Hermione both agreed that the prefects were the best candidates to make officers in the army because the other students were already supposed to be listening to them. They had to proceed carefully however. Not every prefect could be trusted. The staff approved of Harry and Padma's "emergency plans" which mainly consisted of the students holing up in their dormitories, but Harry was careful to make sure they did not know the full extent of what the D.A. was up to. Harry was not sure how much the teachers would approve of the students forming ranks and drilling attack spells.

Ernie Macmillan was enjoying the whole thing immensely, and he was not the only one. Ron had never taken his prefect duties so seriously. Hermione had taken it upon herself to edit and revise Victoria's reports to her father. Luna spent a good half hour trying to convince him that they should collect Nargles and consider learning how to summon Heliopaths. "It would prove extremely useful."

Ginny agreed that planning for contingencies made sense, but she, like others, was wavering on whether she thought Voldemort would actually attack. "It seems pretty far fetched," she told Harry on their way to the Quidditch pitch. "But still, Persephone was right about the last Quidditch game. Don't suppose she's said anything about who's going to win this one?"

Harry shook his head. Persephone swore that her Quidditch prediction was pure luck and the thing about Voldemort was just a guess. "Well, not exactly a guess," she admitted. "More like a flash, like an image in my head, but that doesn't mean it's actually going to happen."

Even with the prophecy hanging over his head, or perhaps because of it, Harry had never put much stock in Divination. So whether Persephone's prediction was genuine or simply a guess made little difference to him. He had never had any insights into Voldemort's plans before and managed to survive somehow. For someone so deeply entangled with his own life, he knew very little about Voldemort, but knowing what little he did, Harry thought that might be for the best.

Harry was walking between classes with Ron and Hermione when Persephone ran up to and nearly collided with him. Harry grabbed her arms to steady her. "Harry, I just heard from Kagome," she said breathlessly.

"Who's Kagome?" asked Ron.

"The boggart she made friends with," said Harry.

"You made friends with a boggart?" Ron looked disturbed.

"The one from Halloween?" guessed Hermione.

"Right," said Persephone. "Anyway, I sent her on a mission to find out what Voldemort fears the most."

"Persephone--" Harry began in an exasperated tone.

"It's all right. He didn't hurt her," Persephone insisted. "Don't you want to know what Voldemort's most afraid of?"

"We already know that," said Ron.

"Albus Dumbledore," supplied Harry.

Persephone grinned and shook her head. "No, it's you. He's afraid of you, Harry."

Harry was intrigued but not nearly as delighted by the news as Persephone. He had no intention of letting Kagome's message fill him with false hope. Being the thing that Voldemort feared most probably meant he was also the thing Voldemort would most want to destroy. It really made little difference to his plans or preparations. Still, it was interesting.

****************

With March came the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw seeker was fast, but Harry had a better eye. He spotted the snitch while Ekin was still on the other side of the pitch and closed his hand around it before the other boy had managed to reach his full speed. Ginny only complained that Harry had not given the rest of the team enough time to take advantage of Ravenclaw's lamentable Chasers. She was grinning from ear to ear when she said it, so Harry decided not to take the criticism too hard.

The win left Gryffindor and Slytherin as the top contenders for the Quidditch cup. There had never been less tension between the two teams. Malfoy was still avoiding Harry, which meant Crabbe and Goyle followed suit. Chessann Blampied finally managed to work a D.A. meeting into her schedule. She and Ginny were stubbornly enforcing a "leave your attitude at the pitch" policy.

Harry had become intrigued by the idea of gaining better insights into Lord Voldemort. He decided that the time had come to tell the D.A. his story, or as much of it as he could. This idea went over a lot better than the inclusion of the Slytherins. Though they seemed equally intrigued.

He began his story with his first year. Harry did not consider himself much of a storyteller, but Lavender Brown gasped loudly when he told them about Voldemort drinking the unicorn blood. Harry thought it was a shame Draco was still not coming to meetings. It took all the fun out of reminding him than he had run away screaming.

Harry tried to avoid unnecessary details, though Ron and Hermione could not resist popping in their own additions. Even with their interruptions, he got through the story quickly enough to move on to his second year. Hannah Abbott was deeply disturbed to learn that a Basilisk had been roaming the halls of the school unchecked. Ernie merrily reminded them that they had suspected Harry of being the Heir of Slytherin.

Harry grimaced. He was glad to have a chance to set the record straight on that particular issue. "No, Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin," he said, pacing to the back of the room. "He was a student at Hogwarts about fifty years ago, only then he was known as Tom Riddle."

"Tom Riddle!" Persephone yelped, her silver eyes very round.

"I told you his name was Tom," Hermione said, watching her curiously.

"But Tom Riddle?"

Harry's own curiosity was growing. The girl, who said Voldemort's name with a derisive snort and had for months been trying to convince them to laugh at him, looked positively horrified at the name "Riddle".

"Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Persephone continued incredulously as though hoping some one would contradict her.

"Yes," said Harry, eyeing her curiously. Everyone in the room was watching her intently.

Persephone's hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes stayed round, and she shook her head slowly. She dropped her hands to her chin. "But that can't be true," she said in a squeaky whisper and clamped her hands back over her mouth.

"It's true," Harry said curtly. "I met him. I talked to him."

"But he killed James!" she continued in the same loud whispery squeak, again only uncupping her hands only long enough to speak.

Harry glanced about students in the room. None of them were having reactions like hers. Harry was beginning to feel annoyed. She knew something.

"Persephone, what's all this about?" he demanded, but she scarcely looked fazed. She did drop her hands from her mouth, and her voice strengthened in a sort of desperate fury.

Persephone cautiously got to her feet. "Tom Riddle--Tom Marvolo Riddle--killed James Potter." She said every word very clearly as though trying to sort them out in her own head.

There was a wave of uncomfortable shifting as some of the other students realized she was talking about Harry's father. A few of them looked at Harry now. Persephone did not seem to notice them. She was looking at Harry too.

"He-" she paused. Her expression softened and her hands hovered near her mouth. "But, Harry-Oh, Harry, he tried to kill you," she said this as if it was the saddest thing she had ever heard. "You were just a baby, and he tried to kill you."

Harry felt very uncomfortable. Everyone knew Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. Voldemort was still trying to kill Harry. This was not news. It should not have shocked her because Voldemort-no, not Voldemort-Tom Riddle. She was upset, horrified, that Tom Riddle had tried to kill him.

"Persephone, what do you know about Tom Riddle?" Harry asked, getting to his feet.

Persephone clamped her hands over her mouth more tightly than before. Her eyes widened again. Harry took a step towards her, and she took a step back. Harry paused, but Persephone continued to back up until she reached the far wall. Her back pressed against the wall, she began to shake her head slowly and slid down to the floor. Back still against the wall, she pulled in her knees, so that she rested in a fetal position.

She sat there, her hands lying limply at her sides, staring at nothing and continuing to shake her head slowly. Harry crossed the room. "Persephone?" he said gently. She did not respond. He kneeled down before her so that they were close to eye level.

"Persephone," he tried again. "If you know something about Voldemort, you have to tell me."

She looked at him miserably. "But I promised Mama." She slapped her hands back over her mouth. Her eyes were beseeching. For a moment they conversed with their eyes. Harry stared back at her resolutely. She relented but cast her gaze anxiously at the other students in the room.

Harry looked to Hermione and Ron, surveyed the other students, and indicated the door.

"Right," Hermione murmured, then said bossily. "Everybody out."

There was a scattering of confused protests. "Come on," Ron said. "Everyone out of the room, just for a minute." They met various levels of resistance but showed themselves fully willing to physically hurl each student from the room if necessary.

Persephone continued to watch anxiously as they cleared the room, avoiding Harry's eyes. "What did you promise your mother?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell James," she said in a very soft, strained voice.

"I'm not James," Harry reminded her.

"I know," she said. "But I promised Mama..." She whimpered. Tears welled up, held back by silver lashes, and he understood she was trying to convince herself to betray her dead mother's confidence.

"Persephone, I understand, I really do. But I'm sure your mother, my grandmother, would want you to tell me if it's important," he reasoned.

She looked over Harry's shoulder. He glanced around again to see Ron and Hermione shoving the last of the students out the door and looking back to see if Harry wanted them to go as well. Ron in particular looked reluctant to leave.

"You can trust Ron and Hermione," he told her. "And you can trust me."

"You don't want to know, Harry," she said.

"Yes, I do," Harry insisted.

"No. You don't," she said so calmly that he knew this was her last line of resistance and whatever she had to tell him was truly unpleasant.

"Okay, maybe I don't." He felt Ron and Hermione draw nearer. "But I need to know. If it's about Voldemort, Tom Riddle, I need to know it."

She took a few uncertain breaths to steel herself. She kept her eyes steadfastly on Harry. "Tom Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle is the name of James' father."

"What?" Harry said reflexively.

"Tom Riddle was James Potter's father," Persephone repeated. "He's your grandfather, Harry."

"No," Hermione said. "That's not true. Henry Potter. Henry Potter was your grandfather. I looked it up."

"It is true," Persephone insisted. "Mama told me. I overheard her and Papa arguing. James had gotten in trouble for something at school. And Papa said, 'I just feel sometimes that if there was something of me in him, I could relate to him better.' And Mama said, 'You don't mean that.' And Papa said he didn't, but I'd never heard them talk like that before, and it scared me. So I asked Mama about it, and she told me.

"She didn't betray Papa," Persephone insisted, reading their faces. "She met Tom Riddle in India, and they were married. But he found out that she was muggle-born, so he left her."

"Why didn't he know she was muggle-born?" Hermione asked.

"Mama was raised by a pure-blood family, but she adopted. Mama didn't know it was important, and she let it slip. And he got angry, really angry, and left. But she was already pregnant with James, and she didn't know what to do. So she came back to England. She and Henry Potter had been old school friends, and she confided in him. She didn't want James to grow up without a father, and Papa had always loved her so she married him."

"You lying little-" Ron spat angrily. "She's in league Voldemort. She just wants to make it hard for you to fight him." Ron made a move towards Persephone, and she cringed.

"No!" Harry shouted. Breaking his gaze with Persephone for half a second to glare Ron back. He could feel the horror and disgust emanating from the both of him and Hermione. Persephone watched him with anxious dread. Harry knew that he should be equally horrified, more so, but all he felt was an extreme calm. A slow smile spread across his face. "It makes sense."

Hermione gave a small gasp. "Harry..." Ron said in a warning tone.

"Don't you see?" said Harry. "It makes sense. This is the first time any of this has made sense." Persephone was picking up on his calm, but they were all watching him doubtfully. "Look, the prophecy could have applied to me or Neville. Why was it me? Why did Voldemort come after me instead of Neville? If he knew, I was his grandson..."

"Harry, I'm not sure that he knew," said Persephone.

"He could have been after both of you," said Hermione, trying to be sensible.

"But, why come after me first?" Harry insisted. "Even he didn't know for certain, he must have known it was possible. Look, you didn't see Tom Riddle, his sixteen-year-old self, in the Chamber. Even he comment on how we even looked something alike. He said he 'wondered', I never realized what about."

"Harry, he hadn't even met Mama at sixteen," said Persephone in an exasperated tone.

"Okay," Harry conceded. "But he still could have wondered. And--" Harry stopped. A thought hit him that knocked him to the ground, clutching his sides with laughter.

"Harry?" Hermione began, looking a little frightened.

"Oh man, this is brilliant!" Harry managed between convulsions. "Just brilliant!" Persephone touched his arm, and he pushed himself back up to sitting position. Cheeks puffed out with contained laughter. "Don't you get it? I AM the Heir of Slytherin!" He was laughing so hard that tears were starting leak from his eyes. No one else found this revelation as amusing as he did. Ron looked horrified. Hermione was staring at him sadly, and Persephone just looked worried. "You have to admit it's a little funny?" Harry urged them after he had calmed down a bit.

"Oh, yeah, hysterical," said Ron in a hollow tone.

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again. "Maybe we should ask Professor Dumbledore..."

That suggestion sobered Harry. "Yeah," he said, feeling anger start to build now. "Yeah, let's go to talk to Dumbledore." Harry clenched his fists and got his feet. He strode to the door of the Room of Requirement and flung it open. Most the D.A. was still crowding around the hall. "Move," Harry said shortly. The crowd pressed to the side of the hall to form a path for him.

"What's going on, Harry?" asked Ernie.

"Not now," said Harry as he walked on. He did not want to talk to anyone other than Dumbledore.

He heard Ron hastily dismiss the others and Luna ask if he was all right. A murmur of confusion arose. Harry left the others to handle it and did not break stride. A few minutes later, Ron, Hermione, and Persephone caught up to him.

"Acid pops," Harry said without batting an eye. Head boy did come with certain privileges. The gargoyle leapt aside, and Harry climbed the stairs, the others on his heels. He flung open the door to Headmaster's office and stalked inside.

Dumbledore was standing by Fawkes' perch. He looked up calmly as the four students entered his office. "Ah, Harry, do come in."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded.

Dumbledore, sensing a long interview, took a seat behind his desk, and lifted his hand. Hermione took the hint and shut the door behind them.

"What is it I have failed to tell you, Harry?" the Headmaster asked, looking up at him.

Harry met Dumbledore's gaze with a hard stare. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME VOLDEMORT WAS MY GRANDFATHER?" Dumbledore continued simply to look at Harry. "Don't tell me you were trying to protect me. That excuse may have worked when I was twelve, but I'm of age now. I have proven myself time and again, so what reason could you possibly have for not telling me something that important?"

"Harry," Dumbledore said in an infuriatingly reasonable tone. "There is a very simple reason why I never told you that Voldemort was you grandfather. To my knowledge, it simply isn't true."

"But it is true, headmaster," Persephone spoke up. "Mama told me. She only knew him as Tom Riddle though. They were married, but he left her when he found out she was muggle-born, and she married Papa."

"You're going to try to tell me that you didn't know?" said Harry. He still wanted to be angry.

"Mama wanted it kept secret," Persephone repeated adamantly. "I don't think she told anyone except me and Papa. I don't think James ever knew."

Dumbledore was staring gravely at Persephone as though reassessing her.

"It makes sense," said Harry weakly, finding himself calm once again.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Does it?"

"Only the Heir of Slytherin could open the Chamber of Secrets," Harry said. "We looked something alike, Tom Riddle and I. It explains why he came after me and not Neville. Why he fears me."

Dumbledore considered Harry for a long moment through his half-moon spectacles. "I can't say that I'm entirely convinced. But let's suppose for a moment that what you have been told is in fact true. What are you going to do with this information?"

"Nothing has changed," Harry said grimly. "I am still the one who has to kill Voldemort."