Stay Free

Chapter 3: The Will is Read

The next day, at precisely 7:30 in the morning, Harry was walking into the Third Meeting Room in the Gringotts Bank, led by a particularly ugly goblin and Snape. Harry secretly thought it (the goblin, of course) had a striking resemblance to a Slytherin in his year, Millicent Bulstrode.

"Right in here," the goblin said silkily, gesturing to a tall, golden door. He stroked the doorknob with a long finger, and the door swung open. "Have a nice day," he added with a nasty smile.

"In you go, Potter," Snape sneered.

Swallowing hundreds of insults that were on the tip of his tongue, Harry walked through the door, taking in his surroundings.

It was an average-sized room, perhaps the size of a classroom at Hogwarts. The walls were painted a pale green, the floor made of wood. Two posters hung on the walls, one for the Weird Sisters, and another for the Chudley Cannons. Ron would be pleased, Harry thought aimlessly. There was a large table in the centre of the room, with straight-backed chairs in a line around it.

To Harry's relief, there were two people occupying these chairs, one of which Harry was very glad to see.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly, standing up. The woman who was sitting on his right stood up as well, clutching a thick stack of stapled papers. "May I introduce Mrs. Olivia Swee?"

"Nice to meet you," Harry said politely, reaching out his hand. Olivia Swee took it, shaking it briefly.

She was a short woman, perhaps up to Harry's shoulders, with long, thick brown hair that tumbled past her shoulders. Her eyes were startlingly blue, and they gazed to his scar that protruded from behind his fringe, and then quickly back down to his eyes.

"Good to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Swee said. Her voice was brisk, yet warm and not cruel. "I see you've arrived early..."

"Yes," Snape said impatiently, "he didn't want to be late."

"And you must be Severus Snape," Mrs. Swee continued. "You're a teacher at Hogwarts, correct?"

"Yes," Snape repeated. "Potions. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do--"

"But you're mentioned," Mrs. Swee interrupted, holding up a thin sheet of paper. Harry could make out the words Sirius Black's Will in script along the top.

Snape's eyebrows flew upwards. "I am?"

Dumbledore looked amused. "Apparently, you are, Severus."

"Why would Sirius leave him anything?" Harry blurted out, jerking a thumb at Snape, who was looking to have the same thoughts. "They hated each other."

"I am not sure if Mr. Black left Mr. Snape anything, or if his name was merely mentioned," Mrs. Swee said, bringing the paper back to the stack. "Mr. Black left a paper declaring which people were mentioned in his will, as it is with most wizarding wills. That way, it is harder to tamper with."

"Are you here to stay, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired. His eyes were twinkling, as though he thought this was a rather good joke.

"I--I suppose I am," Snape said, almost awkwardly. He took the seat beside Dumbledore.

Mrs. Swee began heading towards the door. "I need to be ready to greet the Malfoys when they arrive--you know how these old wizarding families are. I'll be back when they arrive."

As she left, Harry turned to Dumbledore. "What does she mean, the Malfoys?" he asked with disbelief. It felt odd to be discussing things with Dumbledore in a civil tone; after all, the last time he had spoken with the Headmaster, he had destroyed most of his office. Harry had decided the previous night that he would be polite with Dumbledore, as being angry with the old wizard wouldn't solve anything. "Why would Sirius bother leaving them something?"

"Narcissa Malfoy was his cousin," Snape answered before the Headmaster could begin to speak. "It is customary in old pureblood families to leave at least something to their relatives."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, and his memory flashed back to a day in Grimmauld Place last summer, when Sirius had shown him his family's tree on an ancient tapestry. He had seemed so upset, so embarrassed with his ancestry..."Is Tonks going to be here, then?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, smiling faintly, "to represent her family. Her parents couldn't manage to get time off at work today."

Harry nodded, a tiny bubble of hope appearing in his chest. He liked Tonks, a young Metamorphmagus Auror who was very clumsy, and very likable.

"Harry, do sit down," said Dumbledore, sweeping out his arm. Harry walked around the table, and plopped into the chair on the other side of Dumbledore.

"What time is it?" Snape said testily. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else than sitting in a meeting room in Gringotts, including feeding a live dragon blindfolded.

"Quarter to eight," Harry answered after checking his watch. He found himself tapping his fingers across the table, due to his nerves and boredom.

A minute or so later, there were voices outside in the corridor. Harry sat up straighter in his seat to see who it was.

At first, Mrs. Swee walked in, talking about some new shop in Diagon Alley with a tall, blonde woman. She was absolutely stunning, yet somewhat familiar. Harry found himself staring without realizing it until he saw who walked in afterwards.

Draco Malfoy strode in after his mother and Mrs. Swee, the trademark Malfoy sneer on his pale face. He no longer walked with the swagger of someone who believed they owned the world. It was probably due to the fact that his father was currently in Azkaban.

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," Dumbledore said pleasantly, standing up and inclining his head in a bow. He reached out to shake her hand, and she took it daintily.

"Narcissa," Snape said in a low voice as soon as Dumbledore and Narcissa stopped shaking hands, nodding his head.

"Severus," Narcissa Malfoy said, returning the nod.

Narcissa and Snape looked very awkward while speaking to each other, and didn't shake hands, hug, kiss cheeks, or any other form of greeting besides their nodding. Harry wondered about it, but left it to the back of his mind.

"Potter," Draco said, flicking his eyes to Harry.

"Malfoy," Harry replied, leaning back in his chair. "It's--er, nice to see you again, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I've heard much of you," said Narcissa, looking down at Harry as though he were something disgusting under her shoe. "Of course."

"Of course," Harry repeated quietly. He was bursting to say something along the lines of, "Ha! Your husband's in Azkaban!", or, "Your son is a complete prat," but he decided that, under the circumstances, it would be inappropriate.

"Please, sit down," Mrs. Swee said conversationally, tapping the chairs. Narcissa and Draco took their seats in front of Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape. "More people should be arriving soon," she added.

And they did. In the next fifteen minutes, people began to flood the rooms. Harry had no idea that Sirius knew, or had merely mentioned, so many people. There was Amelia Bones, who was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; the entire Weasley family, minus Percy, who just wasn't responding to letters, and Charlie, who had returned to Romania; Hermione and her family; Tonks arrived with a limp, for she had Apparated straight into a vase; and Remus Lupin, of course.

"Well," Mrs. Swee said brightly, looking at the tightly packed room, "this is excellent. We're all here. Shall we begin?"

There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of the room. On Harry's left, Ron and Hermione shot glances at them. He mouthed I'm fine, and they returned their gaze to Mrs. Swee, who was now sitting at the head of the table.

She shuffled the papers importantly, removing random pieces and placing them in a pile. She passed them down the long line of people around the table. Harry picked his up with interest.

"What you all have in your hands is the exact will of Sirius Black. None of this has been tampered with. The writings are his, and were written on..." Mrs. Swee adjusted her glasses, and peered at her papers. "...October 31st, 1995. What you have in your hands is a copy; I myself have the true writings. Please read along."

She fixed her glasses again, and began to read. Harry's chest tightened automatically; he could almost hear Sirius's voice in his words.

"Well, since the Ministry of Magic is after me for murder, I've got nothing better to do but sit around and doodle on spare pieces of parchment. Might as well make these last sheets useful in some way.

"First, I would like to say that while you're reading this, I am either dead, missing, or you're just snooping around and just happened to find my will lying around. I do hope I didn't die of something incredibly embarrassing, like getting eaten alive by flobberworms. I do hope it was something heroic (or at least very Gryffindor); perhaps in battle, protecting Harry."

Harry jerked at the mention of his name, and at the fact that Sirius had nearly predicted his death. Nearly everyone in the room turned to look at him before returning to their papers.

"Well, there's a good start. I wasn't exactly sure where to begin writing where my money and things are going, but there we go. First of all, Harry, if I'm dead, I can't be responsible for you anymore. Therefore, I am turning over full godfather duties to my good friend Remus Lupin, if he still alive while we are reading this. If not, then Dumbledore, and then the Weasleys, and so on and so forth."

Mrs. Swee turned her eyes on Harry. "Do you agree to this?"

Harry glanced at Lupin for help, but he was staring down at the paper with an unreadable expression.

"Yes," Harry said quickly. "I mean, of course."

Lupin looked to be full of relief at Harry's response. Mrs. Swee went back to reading Sirius's will.

"Well, now that the godfather duties are taken care of, I would like Harry to know that he has inherited The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Buckbeak--"

"I knew it!" Draco hissed under his breath, shooting Harry, Ron, and Hermione a dark glare. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off angrily.

"--my motorcycle, and anything else that we didn't get rid of in the house this summer. Of course, you are welcome to give anything of value to Mundungus Fletcher. What he does with those items...well, we'll just leave that to him."

A grin flitted across Mundungus's features from behind his mop of ginger hair. He caught Harry glancing at him, winked one bloodshot eye, and adjusted his traveling cloak, which was oddly lumpy in the overlarge pockets.

"And, of course, you are receiving at least two fifths of my money. I am, or was, the last of the Blacks, so all the Black money became mine. I have no idea how much is in my family's Gringotts vault, but I suppose you'll be finding that out later.

"There is a letter along with this will that should be given to Harry. It is his private letter, and will not be read by anyone else but him unless he decides so. Speaking of which, I believe there is a box of letters in the drawer of my study, which is to be given to those who have their names on the front of the envelopes. It's just letters that I wrote years and years ago, and from present day."

Mrs. Swee looked at Dumbledore. "I trust you will be able to retrieve these letters, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I will by September, at the latest." Mrs. Swee continued:

"Now, on to the money. Remus Lupin is getting a fifth of my money--sorry to give Harry more than you, old friend, but Harry can't get any money unless someone gives it to him--and I give him full permission to nail Kreacher's head to the wall. Unless, of course, he already did. If he did, there's a box of darts in my old bedroom."

Snape snorted, and Lupin looked mildly embarrassed.

"To the Weasleys, I give a fifth of my money. I know that they won't be needing it soon, because of Fred and George's new business. From what I've heard, you twins have been working pretty hard. I wish you the best of luck; you won't need it, I'm sure."

Fred and George grinned, and smoothed down the front of their dragon-skin jackets. Mrs. Weasley, who disapproved of her two son's business choice, was looking reproachful but proud at the same time.

"And that leaves the last fifth to be donated to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I know that, someday, Lucius Malfoy will go to Azkaban and won't be able to make his 'generous donations' that results in getting free tickets to the Quidditch World Cup."

Harry shot a look at the two Malfoys, and was pleased to see the colour draining from Draco's face. Narcissa's cheek were tinged pink.

"Now, although I just explained how I want my money divided, I still have to leave something to my family members. Yes, the delightful Blacks. I was always the white sheep in the Black family..."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. The rest of the room sported smiles, or weak laughter.

"All right, so that was a terrible joke. James always used to say it when I was groaning about having to go visit my parents during Christmas time; I always tried to spend it at Hogwarts or at the Potters. I think I spent it once at the Remus's house, in my third year. That was plenty of fun."

Lupin smiled faintly. He looked to be fondly remembering.

"Anyway, let's start with the Malfoys...My dear cousin, Narcissa, her husband, Lucius (if he's even present), and their son, Draco. From what I've heard, Draco, you are an exact replica of Lucius. You know, the silvery hair, those creepy gray eyes, the trademark sneer, that awful attitude...But, that, of course, is just what I've heard from Harry. You bought yourself onto the Slytherin Quidditch team, and became a Seeker...You've called Hermione a Mudblood...Tried to get Hagrid sacked...And I'd go on and on, but I don't have the patience. Anyway, as hope that you don't turn out like your father, I give you..."

Mrs. Swee turned over her paper, as did the rest of the room.

"...one Galleon. Yes, one Galleon; learn to love it, Draco. It's called charity. You see, I give the money to the people who need it more than you. And you get a Galleon, and a letter that is along with all the others. Do me a favor and become the...er...I can't do the white sheep/Black family joke here. Anyway, you get the gist.

"Now, my dear cousin...Because you agreed with my ol' Mum's view on things, you can have the delight of her portrait in your home. It can't be taken off unless the entire wall is taken out, but I'm sure Dumbledore can take it out for me. And Narcissa, you will take it to your home, because I said so.

"To the Tonks: Nymphadora--I know you hate the name--I do hope your Auror career goes more smoothly than your cooking skills. Cousin Andromeda--who was also a sort of white sheep--I miss you dearly. I don't think I've seen you since my graduation from Hogwarts. I'm sorry for colouring your hair electric blue for the occasion, but it was so fitting...Well, I leave the Tonks family pretty much anything they wish to take from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, as long as Harry can part with it. Big hugs from Cousin Sirius.

"Now, on to my extended family of sorts...To the Grangers: I never got to meet Mr. and Mrs. Granger, but Hermione has told me that you are fantastic people. I wish you the best of luck in your...er, teeth business. (Sorry, I'm not up to date on Muggle things.) I give Hermione as many of the books in my family's library as she wants. Try not to let her head explode from all of it, Harry. And Ron, don't even bother trying a know-it-all comment, because I know you are."

Ron, who was just about to speak, closed his mouth abruptly. He flushed as the room broke into light laughs.

"Amelia Bones...I remember going to school with you. You were a Hufflepuff in my year, but you certainly showed James a thing or two about dueling when he made a joke about Hufflepuffs. If I remember correctly, he stayed in the hospital wing for a week, sprouting extra legs, orange skin, and green antennas...Ah, good times. But, anyhow, I'm sorry to say I'm not leaving you anything; I would just like everyone else to know what a wonderful person you are. Thank you for being so kind to Harry during his hearing.

"Now, on to talking about the Weasleys...Molly and Arthur, you are the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Your children have inherited this, which I am very glad for.

"Let's start from oldest to youngest...Bill Weasley. I remember you when you were younger...and I'm sure the girls still go wild for you. I can picture you now, sitting with Fleur Delacour (improving her English, eh?), looking very professional, yet very uncomfortable, in a suit and tie that you wear for your desk job here...Good luck with Fleur.

"Charlie...I don't think I've seen you since you were a baby. If you're still in Romania, give the dragons a hello from me. Keep up the good work, and try not to burn yourself too badly. Molly would have a fit.

"Percy...I don't think you're there, and if you are, shame on you. You've disgraced your family, not to mention the wizarding world; Believing Fudge because it's the easy way out, abandoning your family and friends. Hell, people thought I was Voldemort's loyal servant and a mass murderer, but even I didn't go as bad as you. (By the way, for full details of the whole Peter Pettigrew mess, there is a full document of it. That is to be given to the Ministry of Magic, please.)

"Fred and George...Good luck. I'm sure you'll put Zonko's out of business in no time. Keep up the good work, and remember that even in times of dark, there's nothing like a fake chicken to make people laugh.

"Ron...I don't know how I can begin. You are Harry's best friend, along with Hermione, and I can't thank you enough. I'm sure that if it weren't for you, Harry would be stuck in Slytherin, which would put somewhat of a dark cloud over things. Without you, Harry would be lost. Thank you, so much.

"Ginny, my fellow sheep. You have suffered nearly as much as Harry has with the whole Voldemort's diary thing, and I applaud you. Not many people would be able to keep their chins up after that.

"That's all the Weasleys, so moving on to other people...I'll begin with Albus Dumbledore. You, my friend, are wonderful. I don't think I would be alive without you. You can still make me feel like a seventh year that got caught in the Astronomy Tower with a certain Gryffindor, yet still make me feel like an equal. I'm going to miss you terribly.

"Onto someone completely unexpected...Severus Snape. In case you didn't read or hear me correctly, I did say Severus Snape. I suppose you're in here so I can apologize for what we did to you during our school years. All those pranks, the duels in the halls, the event after our O.W.Ls, the Whomping Willow incident...and it was my entire fault. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had offered you a Chocolate Frog during our first train ride to Hogwarts, instead of trying to curse you to show off to James. I'm sorry I couldn't have told you in person, preferably earlier, but I'm just too stubborn. And besides, you would have a heart attack at the thought of Sirius Black apologizing. But I am. I'm sorry."

Harry glanced at Snape, who was staring at the piece of paper with disbelief in his eyes. He looked truly shocked.

"Remus Lupin, old friend. I consider you the brother that I never had. Well, I did have a brother, but he was a complete fool, so consider yourself a replacement. I have so many fond memories of you from school, helping James and Lily with Harry, all those races in the Forbidden Forest...I'm going to miss not being able to just call you up on the Floo, Moony. Best of luck fighting the anti-werewolf laws that the idiots at the Ministry are putting up, and do be a good godfather to Harry. I know you were a bit put out when James and Lily chose me instead of you. But it was better than Pettigrew, right?

"Hagrid...The first time we truly met was when you caught me and James trying to sneak into the Forbidden Forest in our first year. A seventh year had told us about some enormous spider, and we wanted to catch it and set it loose in the corridors. Of course, we hadn't assumed the spider was fifty feet tall and was going to eat us as a snack. Thanks for running in to save us with Fang. I owe you a lot. Thank you for being so kind to Harry.

"And lastly, Harry Potter. It's funny how I started with you in the will, and now I'm ending with you. Harry, I know you're so sick of hearing this...But you look so much like James, except for Lily's eyes. I know many people say how you're growing up to be just like your father, but you don't want that. From what you've seen of your father, he was a complete prat. And, yes, he was. At least until Lily finally gave in to go to Hogsmeade with him in our seventh year. He calmed down after that.

"You might be blaming yourself for my death, Harry, but don't. I blamed myself for James and Lily's death for twelve long years...It's not much fun, especially with Dementors swooping every place you look. Harry, all I can say is...Well, I'm sure you don't want me sharing personal feelings with everyone else in the room, so just look at your letters. I miss you terribly right now, and I'm sure you're having an eventful Halloween. Bad things always tend to happen on the 31st of October, and I hope nothing bad happens this time. I wish you the best of luck, and keep pursuing your dream to become an Auror with Ron. I love you like the son I never had the chance to have."

Mrs. Swee stopped reading to adjust her glasses once more. "This concludes the reading of Sirius Black's will. I need to speak with Griphook about opening Mr. Black's vault, so if you'll excuse me..."

Harry's vision blurred as Mrs. Swee walked out the door. At first, he was terrified that he had suddenly gone blind, then realized it was just tears. He wiped them away with embarrassment.

"Harry," Lupin said quietly from across the table. He was painfully thin, Harry noticed, with his face pale and eyes empty of emotion. "Are you going to stay at Gringotts to receive your share?"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat awkwardly. "I suppose so. Any reason to stay away from the Dursleys is good enough for me."

"And me," Snape grumbled. He looked like he was going to say more, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Harry, I am sorry to say that we cannot bring you to Sirius's home right now," Dumbledore said in a low tone. Harry could see his eyes flicking to the Malfoys. "It is not safe. You must stay at the Dursleys' for at least the rest of July. We will try to bring you to the Burrow, or Hogwarts, for your birthday, but I'm afraid that your safety is a big concern at the moment."

Harry shrugged in response. Dumbledore nodded, as though he could understand.

"Hey, Harry," Bill whispered. Harry leaned back in his chair so he could see the older man, who was standing up and walking towards him. "I'm sorry, but I've got to be getting back to work now. We'll try and see you later, okay?" He ruffled Harry's hair in a brotherly gesture, and left.

"Harry," said Ron, and Harry glanced at his friend. Hermione was sitting on the other side of the red-haired boy, looking serious. "I'm sorry--"

"Don't bother," Harry interrupted. Ron looked hurt. "Sorry, mate, I didn't mean it like that--"

"Oh, both of you are hopeless," Hermione cut in, wrapping them both into a hug. Harry found himself smiling, and he hugged his friends tight. Over their shoulders, he could see Hermione's parents in a deep discussion with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"I still can't believe you're stuck with Snape," Ron said quietly as soon as they all broke apart. "And he's actually living at Privet Drive?"

Harry shot a glance at the Malfoys, making sure they weren't listening. "Yeah, sort of," he replied under his breath. "We do the Occlumency during the day, and then I go to my room to sleep. I don't know where he goes after that. Sometimes he sleeps in the living room, but other times he's not there."

"How are the lessons?" Hermione asked, listening intently.

"Er...all right, I suppose," Harry said awkwardly. Should he tell them how he was able to push Snape away, with almost no effort?

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to ponder that long, for Mrs. Swee had entered the room again to announce that they all who had received money should follow her down to Sirius's vault.

"My mum and dad want to bring me home now," said Hermione, as the people in the room began to leave. "And Dumbledore says that I can't be without my parents anywhere, unless I'm at Hogwarts, because--"

"Because of Voldemort," Harry finished. Draco, who had just walked by, flinched visibly. "I suppose I'll see you in Diagon Alley, or something...?"

Hermione nodded, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Harry, do have a good summer." She pulled him into a fierce hug, and then followed her parents out the door.

"Harry, dear, are you coming?" Mrs. Weasley called.

"Yes," Harry said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He followed the rest of the Weasley family down to one of the doors leading off out of the hall. He climbed into the small cart with everyone else, smiling faintly as George complained about Ron's elbow in his ear.

"Vault 711," said Griphook, the goblin who had shown Harry his Gringotts vault for the first time, as they came to a screeching halt.

The goblin took out a key, slid it into one of the many keyholes that lined Vault 711, and stood back. The door creaked, as though it hadn't been opened in years, and slowly swung open.

Harry thought he was going to be blinded by all the gold.

"The Black fortune consists of one million, seven hundred thousand, five hundred and six Galleons; Six hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty Sickles; and four thousand, eight hundred and seventy-five Knuts," Griphook recited importantly. "Mr. Harry Potter receives an equivalent of--"

The goblin stopped talking, and began muttering under his breath as he did the math.

"--six hundred and eighty thousand, two hundred and ten Galleons; Forty thousand, one hundred Sickles; One thousand, nine hundred and fifty Knuts."

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise and disbelief. Quickly changing Sickles and Knuts to Galleons in his head, his mouth fell open farther. He was the new owner of more than a 1.5 million Galleons?

"Everyone else, besides Mr. Malfoy, receives half of that amount," Griphook finished. He looked proud that he did all the math by himself. "The money will processed to each of your vaults this afternoon. Mr. Malfoy, I trust you can keep hold on one Galleon?"

"Yes," Draco answered coolly, and Griphook handed him a Galleon from the towering pile.

Harry wasn't listening as Griphook recited the other amounts for Lupin and the Weasleys. It was if his body had gone numb, and his feet were nailed to the floor. His head felt weak as the numbers flashed before his eyes. A million and a half Galleons. He dimly heard Dumbledore telling him that he would have to wait to get Sirius's motorcycle; it had to be checked for hexes and curses (just in case). A million and a half Galleons. "We don't have to worry about being poor anymore, Mum!" Ron called out to his mother, who had her hands pressed to her mouth in surprise. A million and a half Galleons. Harry hadn't known Sirius's family had been so rich.

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?"

Lupin's voice slapped Harry back to reality. He blinked his eyes a few times and looked back at his new godfather.

"Harry, I know Severus said something about you being able to come to Grimmauld Place--"

"I know," Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore told me."

Lupin nodded. "Severus is waiting back in the main hall to take you back to the Dursleys. I suggest, now that Narcissa has seen you, that you return to Privet Drive at once."

* * *

"Home sweet home," Harry said heavily as he looked at Privet Drive once more. The Knight Bus had brought him and Snape to the Dursleys' home. An extra tip had bought them the entire bus to themselves, so no one would know where they had gone. A Memory Charm to both Ernie and Stan had been applied also, for the same reasons.

"A million and a half Galleons," Harry muttered under his breath as he trudged across the sidewalk. "And more! I can't believe it--"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Snape raise his eyebrows, but the Potions Master said nothing.

Harry pushed open the door to Number Four, walked inside, and was immediately greeted by his cousin.

"There's someone here who says he knows you, Harry," Dudley said quickly. "He's in the kitchen."

"Who is it?" Snape demanded, his hand in the pocket of his cloak.

"S-Some l-little kid," Dudley stammered, looking truly and completely terrified. "H-He said he was m-meeting Harry here--"

"Oh!" Harry said, realizing whom his visitor was. He turned to Snape. "It's all right, just a kid that Dudley's gang was beating up, I asked him over so I could tell him everything about the wizarding world--"

"A Muggle boy?"

"He's going to Hogwarts next year," Harry said quickly, and Snape relaxed. "He's an orphan, too."

"You'll bond wonderfully," said Snape coolly. "Now, where are your parents, Dudley?"

"Upstairs."

"What are they doing?"

Ignoring Snape's interrogation of Dudley, Harry walked into the kitchen. Mark Evans, who was making himself a peanut-butter sandwich, turned at the sound. He smiled as he saw Harry.

"Hullo, Harry," Mark said brightly. "Dudley said I could get myself a sandwich, is that all right?"

"It's fine," Harry answered automatically. He sat down at the table. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Everything," Mark said, his eyes shining.

So, that was what Harry did. He told Mark as much as he knew of the wizarding world, including Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, the Founding Four, Voldemort, Death Eaters, teachers at Hogwarts, Quidditch, and so on and so forth.

Harry was just in the middle of describing Sibyl Trelawney when Snape walked into the kitchen, carrying a small cauldron that was smoking faintly.

"Oh, this is Professor Snape," Harry said, gesturing to the older man. Snape was putting hot water from the sink into his cauldron, and he turned to look at the two boys.

"This is Mark Evans," Harry continued. To his surprise, there was a glint of recognition in Snape's eyes. The sponge he had been using to clean out his cauldron dropped out of his hands into the sink.

"Can you...repeat that, Potter?" Snape inquired softly. His widening, disbelieving eyes were flicking between Mark and Harry.

"Er...Mark...Evans," Harry repeated slowly and clearly.

"Hi," said Mark brightly. "What do you teach?"

Snape stared at Mark as though he had never seen a person before. He cleared his throat, nearly choked, and said, "Potions. I teach Potions."

"Cool," Mark said enthusiastically. "And you're the Head of Slytherin House, right? That's what Harry told me."

Snape still stared. Harry could see that he was trembling very slightly. "Y-Yes. That would be me."

"What's Potions like?" Mark continued eagerly. "Can you kill someone will a potion? And put them to sleep, and poison them, and cure diseases?"

Something odd passed over Snape's face. It looked strangely like pride. "Have you gotten your books yet, E-Evans?"

"Nope," Mark said cheerfully. "Dumbledore was going to bring me to the Diagon Alley place in early August."

"Speaking of which, how are we going to get mine, Professor?" Harry asked, his mind still on the fact that Snape was stuttering while talking to an eleven-year-old boy. "I'm under house arrest, so--"

"Lupin's getting them," Snape answered before Harry could finish talking. "We can't risk having more owls coming to this house, so Dumbledore is giving him the school letter personally. You'll get your books during the train ride."

Harry nodded, his spirits sinking. One of his favourite times of the summer was to go to Diagon Alley and buy all of his school supplies with Hermione and Ron. It looked as though that was not going to happen this year.

Mark suddenly jumped. Harry looked at him, startled, but was relieved when he saw the boy was only checking his watch.

"Derek's going to be home soon, Harry," Mark said in a rush, yanking a sweatshirt over his head. "Thank you so much, I'll see you at Hogwarts."

With that, the boy sprinted out the door, flipping the hood over his head to avoid the faint drizzle of rain falling from the gray clouds above.

"What were you doing with my aunt and uncle?" Harry asked on an impulse. "Sir," he added quickly. "And what did you use the cauldron for?"

"Just to add the final ingredient for Veritaserum," said Snape icily. "The Headmaster wanted some questions answered."

Harry waited for details, but Snape remained quiet, and he decided not to push it any further.

They stood in uncomfortable silence, until Snape said, "I need to go give Dumbledore my report. Don't leave the house."

"I know, I know," Harry said glumly. This must have been how Sirius had felt, when Dumbledore forced him to remain at Grimmauld Place all of last year. At the thought of Sirius, a lump rose in his throat.

Just as Snape Disapparated, Harry remembered something from the Pensieve: Lily's maiden name. Evans.

Harry frowned. He didn't recall any aunts on Petunia's side of the family. Now that he thought of it, all the relatives he had met were from Uncle Vernon's side. Could someone else have the same last name? It was unlikely, but it was possible.

* * *

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully as Severus walked into his office. "Have you a report for me?"

"Yes," Severus answered. "I've spoken with the Dursleys."

Dumbledore's expression turned grave. "Ah, yes...Please, do take a seat."

He gestured to the armchair in front of his desk, and Severus took it. The Headmaster sat in his own chair, leaned back so the two front legs were on his desk, and interlocked his fingers in front of his face.

"Even under the influence of Veritaserum, they didn't tell me much," Severus began, fumbling with a loose thread in his robes. "I don't believe Potter has been physically abused this summer. Yes, Vernon did use his fist on the boy when he was younger, many times. But he hasn't done much except threaten since Potter got his Hogwarts letter."

"And Petunia?" Dumbledore inquired.

Severus shrugged. "She mostly ignores the boy, from what I could tell. She doesn't like Potter much, I believe, because he reminds her of Lily too much. As much as she dislikes witches and wizards, Lily was still her sister."

"Did you ask them about Harry's emotional state?"

"According to his aunt and uncle, Potter sulked around the house ever since he got back from Hogwarts. He barely eats and he ignores Dudley, though he does take any chance to leave Privet Drive and buy food for his ever-growing cousin. Other than the occasional insult, Potter has been keeping to himself this summer."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I am still worried about Harry's safety."

"He's fine," Severus snapped irritably. "The wards are up, the Dark Lord still doesn't have a clue where Privet Drive is--"

"I meant," Dumbledore interrupted gently, "that I'm worried that Tom will try and break into Harry's mind again."

Severus snorted. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in a silent question. "Well, the Dark Lord won't have much of a chance. When we worked on Occlumency yesterday, Potter was able to push me out of his mind. The second time, I couldn't even break in. He must be practicing."

"Interesting," Dumbledore mused. "I wonder where all this skill and energy has come from?"

"Interesting, indeed."

Dumbledore thought to himself for a couple of minutes, and then said, "Well, Severus, thank you. You will still remain at Privet Drive--as much as you hate it--for as long as necessary--"

"There's more," Severus said quickly. "Potter has...met Mark Evans."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose again. "Did you introduce them?"

Severus shook his head. "Dudley's gang was in the middle of beating up the boy, so Potter ran in to save him, found out he was a wizard as well, and treated him to an afternoon of Twenty Questions."

"You will have to tell him someday, my boy," Dumbledore said quietly.

Severus jerked violently. "No. I can't."

"You promised," Dumbledore said warningly. "You are in both of their debts, including Harry's--"

"I am not in Potter Junior's debt," Severus cut in.

"But you will be," Dumbledore said softly. "You must tell him, Severus. He needs to know the truth."

Severus sighed. He knew he wasn't going to win this one.

"Fine," he said bitterly. "I'll talk to Potter."