Blood Magic

83 -- Back Home

After visits to Florean Fortescue's ("If you do not learn to eat whipped cream decently, I am going to forbid you to have it."), the Apothecary ("Unicorn afterbirth? Euech! That's disgusting!"), Quality Quidditch Supplies ("As if you needed anything more for Quidditch!"), and Flourish and Blotts ("You had favorite books? I mean, storybooks?"), Harry and Severus flooed from the Leaky Cauldron back to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore looked up from his study of an intricate moving device made of crystal and some dull metal. "Ah! Back in time, I see. Harry, you'll find Ron waiting in the Room of Requirement, I believe. Severus, you have twenty minutes to prepare for your conference."

"I have been capable of telling time for many years now, headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled cheerily. "Ah, the memory of youth! I find time a slippery creature, myself."

"It won't be as bad as the hearing, anyway." Harry concentrated on believing that.

Severus made a face."You only need to survive Gryffindors."

Harry shrugged. "So you need to survive the Slytherins -- and Voldemort. That's not so hard; I've been doing it for years." More seriously, he added, "Good luck."

"Good luck, yourself." Severus paused in the doorway. "Oh, and Harry? I have time to arrange your punishment now. You might want to keep that in mind."

"Great."

The door to the Room of Requirement was already there. As he turned the knob, Harry wondered what Ron would have called up. He barely had time to register that it was the standard D.A. practice room before Neville yelped "Harry!"

Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

His first invitees were all there. Seamus and Dean were still seated, but Neville and the girls were on their feet, stopped, open-mouthed in a cluster behind Ron.

"Harry?" Ron spoke in question rather than greeting.

"What?" Harry wasn't sure why they were all staring at him like that. He hadn't said anything, and most of them had already known, anyway.

"Harry!" Hermione stepped forward. "What did you do to your hair?" She covered her mouth with one hand and started to turn pink. Harry crossed to meet the little group, and she darted forward and hugged him. "Congratulations," she whispered. "Sorry."

"Thanks."

Ron, as she stepped away, tugged on a lock of his own hair. "Looks ... you look lots different, mate. Of course, you did before, but now...."

Hermione's hand came back to ruffle his black fluff. "Um...?"

"Well, of course it wouldn't be proper for me to keep it long."

"That doesn't mean you needed to chop it like that!"

Harry laughed. "You should have seen me before Ron's mum neatened it. I cut it myself. With the knife. It looked like a dog's dinner."

"You cut it with your knife?"

"I told you there were uses for a knife that wouldn't cut human flesh. Didn't matter if I missed, see?"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Why not have someone else do it to begin with?"

"I cut it during the hearing -- as a gesture. Somebody actually deigned to ask my opinion, so I chopped off what of my hair I could reach and said yes, he is my father."

"He really is?" Seamus stood up. "Ron told us, but --"

"Yes. And I have my own bedroom in the dungeons, which is where I slept last night. Alone. No 'filthy details'. Sorry."

Seamus looked hopeful. "Have anything else on him?"

"He keeps dead moles in his cold-cabinet." Harry grinned at the faces the others made. "But they're owl treats, really. He likes owls."

"Harry, it's just..." Neville shifted from foot to foot. "He ... he always hated you."

"Not really. He hated James's son."

Neville, Seamus, and Dean looked at each other nervously. It was Neville, surprisingly, who spoke.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Well, no, it wasn't. He's had to face up to a lot of things he hadn't tried to sort out since I was a baby, or even before. It really is okay, now, though." Harry reached up to push his hair back, but there wasn't enough of it left to fidget with. "And since he's finished with trying to stay in with the Death Eaters, things in public will be better, too. I think."

Ginny touched his hair. "That will take some getting used to."

"Oh." Harry, slowly, reached up and took off his glasses. He frowned at them for a moment, then looked around. He tested how things looked with no border delineating the center of his field of vision. With a slight laugh, he looked back at the frames in his hand.

"Suppose I don't need these, now."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing wrong with my vision. They've been plain glass for almost a week." Despite that, Harry folded the glasses carefully and tucked them in his breast pocket. He looked over at Hermione. "All right?"

Dean flopped down on the nearby pile of cushions. "Wear them anyway," he advised.

"Oh?"

Hermione nodded. "For a few weeks. It's some connection to your previous appearance. So people can match you to the way you used to look, you know."

"Oh. I suppose." Harry shrugged. "I'll put them on before the D.A.members arrive."

"So, Harry," Seamus advanced. "Do you really think Snape will be less of a git?"

"Well..." Harry reconsidered. He noticed he was trying to push up his glasses only when his fingers couldn't find them. "He'll be better to me, and probably somewhat better to Hermione and Dean and the others -- there's no point in putting down Muggle-born students, now; he'll just look like an idiot if he does. The rest of you may be worse off, at first -- he has a reputation to keep up, and he'll need to show he's still the toughest, meanest bastard on staff, or his house will just tear him to pieces over me -- and my mum." Harry thought. "He'll also still need to be for Slytherin -- some one has to be, right? -- so I wouldn't expect his House partisanship to decline at all. I'd say it would get worse, except it can't."

Seamus sighed. "Wonderful."

Harry looked cautiously around at them. "So is everyone all right, then?"

Ron, perhaps unconsciously imitating Harry, surveyed the others. "Well, no one else threw the sort of fit that I did."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But I knew you would. I matter to you, after all."

"You matter to us too, Harry." Neville's tone was slightly chiding, but he followed the words with an encouraging smile. "But I'm all right with it, if you are."

Harry didn't think he looked all right. He looked pale and determined as a new soldier on his way to battle. Neville, he decided, he should speak to in private.

***********

Severus's meeting with Darren Coggleshall had gone well. When he took his place at the hearth of the Slytherin common room, he was conscious of the boy's cohorts carefully distributed throughout the room. It was enough, but he would have felt better if Draco Malfoy was supporting them. The Malfoy heir was lounging against the back wall, looking sullen and bored.

"As you all know," Severus began, "I have been absent from the school for most of the day. I have two announcements. One concerns an expected revelation, and one an unexpected one.

"First, I am certain that all of you know I was brought before the Wizengamot as a Death Eater, after Voldemort's first fall. Only Dumbledore's intervention kept me from remaining in Azkaban. I know there has been much speculation as to my true loyalties in this matter." Severus met Pansy Parkinson's eyes. Betray him, would she? She seemed most alarmed to see him.

Severus forced himself to straighten.

"I joined the Death Eaters when I was seventeen, following Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Maitland, both of whom I admired greatly." He could feel the alertness in the room heighten. "I became disillusioned very shortly afterwards, having found Lord Voldemort and his followers to be nothing more than bullies, using an questionable, if attractive, ideology as excuse to indulge their sadistic tendencies, to no real benefit to their supposed cause. At that time, I stopped serving an unworthy master and began to spy and sabotage, working to remove him, as unworthy leaders must always be removed."

Severus paused to allow a few indiscreet gasps to fade. He scanned for expressions of shock or relief, but both were quickly concealed. "When the Dark Lord returned, I returned ... to my secret work." He focused, without bothering to conceal it, on Pansy. "Last night I was betrayed, and so am free of that role. I have no more ties to the Dark Lord or his madness. You may all set your minds clear on that account."

Quick glances were exchanged among the members of his audience. Severus could almost hear them realigning. He smiled slightly, coldly, and waited for the silent tumult to subside.

"That is my expected announcement -- expected in some form, at any rate. Now for the unexpected one." He braced himself. "Harry Potter ... is ..." Without intent, he found his eyes drawn to Draco. The boy was standing by the wall, close-mouthed, and attention glued on some bare bit of stone across the room. Severus collected himself. "Is my son," he said quickly.

Wordless sounds of shocked dismay greeted this announcement. Draco's jaw dropped, and he forgot himself so much as to stare at Severus.

"You are all familiar, I hope, with the play The Purloined Heir? I find myself in a similar situation. The agreement was mutual -- and yes, his mother was Muggle-born, and I knew it -- but we had thought through only the expected scenario -- that of my death. When she released the charm, I was so near death that it worked. The Potters did not consider me a suitable living parent."

Severus noticed a few faces tighten at that. He suspected some of the younger children of repressing amusement. Draco had gone utterly white. Odd. I thought he would have had some hint from Harry last night, if not before.

"They concealed the truth from everyone, including my son, until his sixteenth birthday, during this summer. Since then, he has been free to make his own choices.

"I acknowledged him this morning, and claimed and was given custody."

Severus scanned the room. He didn't think he had ever seen so many of his own house wide-eyed with shock. He kept his gleeful amusement private. Coggleshall's crew looked unprepared to assist him, but then the Death Eater's children were, on average, harder hit, and looked unlikely to attack. Severus fingered his wand, conscious the situation could change quickly. He sought out Draco again and met his eyes. The boy had recovered. He responded by sweeping the room with his gaze, then sending Severus a nod. The Head of Slytherin nodded slightly in return. Draco was at least pretending to be an ally, then.

"This should have little effect on your day-to-day lives. Potter is still in Gryffindor, and as a student, will remain under Professor McGonagall's care and discipline. However, in light of recent events, I have no reason to continue a pretense of animosity, so those of you in your sixth year would do well to cease using him as a shield for your own incompetence in Potions lessons. Harry is actually ... quite talented."

He saw Draco twitch. Some piece had suddenly fallen into place for him, Severus was certain.

"One final thing -- Mr. Malfoy performed an act of great service to the school and to this house last night, under difficult circumstances." Severus bit his teeth together in fierce pride. "One hundred points to Slytherin."

All eyes moved to Draco as he nodded a formal acknowledgment. He did not indicate whether or not he was pleased with his actions.

"That is all that most of you need to know, at present. However, I require private meetings with some of you for whom this presents more ... complex problems." Severus drew a roll of parchment from his robes and affixed it to the wall. "This is the list of those I wish to see in my office this evening. Miss Parkinson, you are first. Come with me now, please."

It was Draco, he thought, that he wanted to speak to first, but he needed Draco to have a little time to set his thoughts back in order. It was best that Parkinson did not have that luxury.

***********

"Neville?"

When Harry's attention turned from casting a sound-blocking charm between the library alcove and the main room, Neville flinched, but followed it quickly with a grin. He twisted his hands together. "I'm actually relieved."

"Relieved?"

"The past month ... I've kept finding you scary. I couldn't work out why. Now I see ... you look a lot like him. I think it will be okay, now that I know what it is."

"Oh." Harry's puzzled frown turned quickly to a smile. "Well, all right, then."

"Harry...." Neville's voice lowered. "You could have told me."

"I wasn't --"

"I can keep a secret. You know that. And you and Ron haven't gone blabbing about my mum and dad."

"I wasn't allowed. I haven't told anyone -- not voluntarily. Hermione figured it out and confronted me in front of Ron, and by the time that was over, I had to tell Ginny. I told Dean last week, but only because he'd noticed the look, and it seemed the best way to get him to shut up about it." Harry gripped Neville's arm for a moment. "I know I can trust you!"

Neville flushed. "Oh. Well, good."

Harry mentally braced himself. "So. You know how you said more Potions experience would help your N.E.W.T. in Herbology?"

Neville squeaked. "I can't take Potions! He wouldn't!"

"No, he wouldn't, but he's agreed to let you and Ron use the lab in the evenings, if you want to, and I'm there to supervise." Harry didn't mention that a condition of this agreement was that he replace all damaged equipment. He was certain the damage would be less if Neville wasn't worrying about that. "So ... want to do it? Without him around?"

"Would you mind?" Neville ducked his head. "I mean, you've never liked Potions --"

"I don't know if it's genetic, or hiding out in the lab with him, but I'm a lot better than I used to be. I'm also ... It's fun to mess around with it, now that I can. I won't just sit and watch you -- I have my own things to play with." Harry grinned. "Want to?"

Neville's eyes shone. "Thank you, Harry. I'd love that."

***********

"In, Pansy."

The girl darted forward into his office, and quickly put her back to the wall. Severus brushed past her to take his seat behind his desk. Coldly, he examined the girl. Her normally ruddy cheeks were white, and she was trying to set her mouth hard in contempt, but her lips trembled. He smiled and watched her flinch. "Have a seat."

She continued to stand, pale and defiant. Severus sighed and looked up. "I owe you an apology."

"What?"

"It never occurred to me you might be interested in direct service to the Dark Lord. He so seldom accepts women -- I don't watch the girls; I'd never even noticed, before last night, that I don't watch the girls."

"And your apology, sir?"

"I did not think to dissuade you. And now he has you. I am sorry."

She raised her head and tried to meet his gaze. "I support the Dark Lord, sir," Her voice wavered slightly. "I did what I needed to do -- what real witches and wizards need to do."

He met her look then, contempt for contempt, defiance for defiance. "Stupid child. Do you think I was not just as proud --" he spat the word -- "when I took the mark of my servitude? But the Dark Lord owns you now, as much property as any house elf, and you will soon know his madness better than your own mind."

She shifted back. "You ... You're just a blood traitor. I ... You deserve to die. You betrayed him."

"I will not be bound by an error in judgment made years ago, when I was little more than a child --"

"Won't you? Then why accept a child by some Mudblood excuse for a witch?"

He wanted to scream, to curse her, but he pushed it back. He needed more control. He had restrained himself before Voldemort all these years -- could not some of that be drawn to here, now? He managed to answer coldly.

"Lily Evans was a far more talented and powerful witch -- at seventeen -- than you will ever be, and every powerful fool you abase yourself to but makes that gap wider. She also had a far better sense of self-preservation than some Slytherins I might name, for all that her maternal love was greater in the end."

"How dare you --"

"Enough. Let me say what I intended before I lose patience. I know you, Parkinson. I did what you have done and I survived. I understand and I will make myself your final judge. As long as I believe you may outgrow your idiocy without harm to those under my protection, I will not betray you. I will, however, watch you closely. Should you endanger your fellow students, or should your stupidity prove more than the folly of youth, I will drop you in an instant, and you will fall hard. Do you understand?"

She nodded with brittle control. "Understood, professor."

"Very well. Go. Send in Theodore Nott."

***********

"Right," said Harry, when the last of the D.A. members (the Ravenclaw boys) had straggled in. He pushed a hand through his too-short hair and wondered if it would grow overnight. "Look, I suspect you've all noticed that I've been acting a little bit odd, this term, and maybe look a bit odd, and I want to explain what's been up." He ignored the few whispers and sniggers that prompted.

"This summer, on my birthday, I found out that James Potter wasn't my ... um .. biological father. He and my mum had cast a Paternity Charm to make me look like I was. I was actually the Herem child -- an Heir Spell child -- of an ex-lover of my mum."

Justin looked perplexed. He probably didn't recognize the spell names, but the wizard-born Hufflepuffs were wide-eyed. The Ravenclaws were frowning as if already evaluating repercussions. Harry pressed on.

"They had thought he was dead, but he wasn't. Legally, I was still his child, even though it had been a mistake, and they should have told him. But he was Death Eater --" people twitched at that, and there were a few audible, wordless reactions -- "working as a spy for Dumbledore, and they didn't think he could keep a half-blood child -- or himself -- safe, if he knew. So they didn't tell him ... or anyone."

Boot was whispering something to Michael Corner. Jack Sloper, who had only joined the week before, was looking between Ron and Ginny, as if their faces might tell him something. Ernie was staring with his jaw slack.

"They were afraid they might die without telling anyone, so they time-sent a letter to my sixteenth birthday."

"Isn't that blood magic?" asked Boot.

"Yes. So is the Paternity Charm. So is the Heir Charm. But blood magic was legal, then." Harry waved off the concern. "Anyway, they did die without telling anyone, so he didn't find out until a few days after I did, when he got his letter."

"He's still alive?" yelped Ernie.

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Jack guessed. "That's why you've been all chummy with our Malfoy."

"God, no!" Harry exclaimed. "No, really, Lucius Malfoy is completely sincere about Voldemort -- at least as far as I can tell -- and he hates Dumbledore."

"Have you met him?" Hannah was wide-eyed. "Your father, I mean?"

"Is he still a Death Eater?" asked Justin.

Susan shook her head. "More importantly, is he still a spy? I mean, should you be telling us this?"

"He retired rather abruptly, last night. We were hoping to hold out until my custody hearing -- that's where I was today -- but he was betrayed to Voldemort last night. That's why I was gone; things got complicated."

Some people accepted that as an answer. Others looked alarmed, or speculative. Harry tried to think what to say next.

"Is he a better father than he is a teacher?" Luna asked in her soft, almost preoccupied way.

"What are you talking about?" Michael demanded.

"Professor Snape, of course. It would have to be him, wouldn't it?"

A few people burst out laughing.

"Luna!" Hannah chided.

"Oh bloody likely Snape's working to defeat You-Know-Who!"

"Harry'd be running for Mongolia!"

"Luna, the most dramatic explanation is not always --"

Harry cut through the voices. "Yes, Luna. It's Professor Snape."

There was a moment of absolute silence.

"Euech!"

Giggles greeted this exclamation. Harry rolled his eyes and tried not to bristle.

"Harry?" Susan Bones advanced. "Promise you won't stop washing your hair?"

Someone whooped. More laughed.

"Hold it." Justin stepped forward. "Snape was a Death Eater?"

"Didn't you know?" Susan answered. "The only thing that kept him out of Azkaban was Dumbledore's personal protection. That's why he works here. No one else would have him."

Harry tried to think of what to say that wouldn't sound too protective or defensive, but Hermione saved him from the effort. She snorted contemptuously.

"Snape? Are you out of your mind? He might not be much of a teacher, but he's brilliant in his field. He had his first citation in Alchemistry Today before he left Hogwarts!"

"Dumbledore wanted him here," Harry added quietly. "Because of ... well, Voldemort, one way and another."

"Yes, but ..." Justin still looked stunned. "Dumbledore let us be taught by a former Death Eater?"

Cho giggled. "You sound so shocked."

"I am shocked!"

"Most of us knew, you know."

"I didn't." Terry shrugged. "But I've never been that interested in modern history."

Hannah pushed her braid back. "I don't see that it matters. I mean, he's kind of creepy...."

Harry leaned back against a bookcase while various members of the D.A. compared Professor Snape's faults. He took off his glasses, set his expression into an appropriately disdainful sneer and played with the earpieces while he waited for a lull.

"Are you quite finished?"

A few people stuttered replies. Hannah and Parvati even jumped back. Harry realized he was smirking and forced a friendlier smile.

"Right, then. I trust this won't cause some sort of crisis of distrust?"

Michael Corner stepped forward. "Look we don't mind you, but ...."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it's Snape," Justin continued. "You know the sort of things he says about ... well ... people like me --"

"But he gathered information for Dumbledore for years, putting himself in terrible danger -- until my safety was at risk. And he risked his life, just last week, to protect Colin -- and Remus Lupin." Harry took a deep breath. "And my mother was ... like you, as you say -- and he chose her."

The giggling and comments had stopped. People stood quietly, not quite able to meet Harry's eyes, but also not able to look away. Harry pushed away from the bookcase and straightened. He settled the glasses back on. "Well, I expect some people will be horrid about it," he said, "but I'll manage. Dumbledore's going to tell everyone tonight. For anyone who's all right with it, I'd appreciate some company walking down to dinner."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry headed for the door. For a moment, he thought no one would move but Ron, who turned with him. Then Neville hurried to catch up, with Seamus and Dean a few steps behind him.

"No, I've talked to him a few times," he heard Hermione saying intently. "Since I found out -- we weren't supposed to know, but we were worried about how often Harry was missing -- and I think he can learn. It's hard to change, you know, when you're pretending to be the same."

"I find it difficult to credit...." Justin returned, but some voices were growing closer to Harry's slow walk, and he lost Justin's voice behind Susan's "...must convince him to grow it again when he's old enough," and Ginny's answering giggle.

Harry's heart swelled as he realized the vast majority of the D.A. was now following in his wake. They continued their chatter on the stairs with Ron and Hermione walking quietly on either side of Harry, Neville and Dean right behind them, and the others forming a cheerful mob before and behind. The tumult of talk only dropped to whispers when they surged into the Great Hall.

It was an unusual enough sight -- a large group made up of members of multiple houses entering together -- to make most of those already seated glance up at them for a moment, but Harry could not help noticing that every head in Slytherin turned to seek him out, and that they all continued to watch him, even those that began to whisper to their neighbors. All, Harry amended to himself, except Draco Malfoy, who quickly looked back at his empty plate. The Slytherins all knew, Harry realized. Severus had already told his house.

When Harry headed for the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, the people behind him hesitated. He looked over his shoulder to give them a wave of thanks, and the Hufflepuffs and most of the Gryffindors moved off to their own house tables. The Ravenclaws lagged back, but stayed casually near Harry as he walked purposefully between the benches, and the Slytherins continued to track him as he moved alongside their table. He suspected no one was surprised when he stopped behind Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?"

Draco twisted in his seat. "What is it now, Potter?"

His voice was taut with anger. Harry bit his lip. The revelation hadn't helped much, then. Still, Draco wasn't actually threatening him.

"I'm sorry." Harry looked steadily at Draco. He needed to say as much as possible, but he did not dare speak explicitly about illegal spellcasting. Many of the people about him were still enemies. "I should have trusted you, at least once you agreed, but I was too anxious. Now that you know the situation, is there anything I can do to get you to forgive me?"

"You don't understand!"

"Neither do you! I woke up screaming! Look --" Harry took a deep breath. "Is there some way we could exchange memories? Then we could at least fight about what actually happened."

"I would not trust you in my mind."

"And I don't know enough Legilimency to get there! But perhaps we could use a pensieve?"

"I don't see that it would help." Draco looked away. For a moment, he just looked lost, then his face regained its familiar sneer. "Odd, how easily you lie."

"Actually, I find it very difficult. Don't think I didn't want to tell you."

"And your grand scheme? Is there one?"

"I said I was going to win -- do you doubt it?"

Draco turned his head to study him. "No," he said finally.

"So, are you my friend?"

"Or else?"

Harry wished he could somehow clear the twist of betrayal from Draco's sharp features. "No," he said simply. "I didn't mean that. Just ... friends?"

Another spasm of distrust made him flinch back. "Come on, Draco! You understand about family."

Draco looked down. After a moment he said, very quietly. "I understand. Do you?"

Harry took a deep breath. "It's a separate loyalty. I mean I'd understand if you needed to...." He didn't want to be talking about this in public. "Voldemort irregardless."

"Still." Draco studied him with an almost sneering look. "I'm afraid it just won't do, Potter."

"Why not?" Harry remembered something. "Do you mind I'm not really a Potter?"

Draco looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Well, you said it helped make up for my Muggle blood."

Draco shrugged. "I suppose it matters in some grand scheme of things." He looked slightly startled as he continued. "It doesn't matter to me, though."

"Friends?" Harry said again, hopefully.

Draco hesitated and his scorn abated. He looked gloomily out over the hall. The Ravenclaws in Harry's escort had settled themselves nearby. A few of the other nearby Ravenclaws were whispering urgently -- probably about the "not really a Potter" remark. Harry thought he saw Draco smile slightly as his gaze touched on Michael Corner and Cho Chang, heads close together.

"Here's a deal, Harry -- get down on your knees and ask me, and I will forgive you."

Harry started to shrug, but the motion got lost as his shoulders tightened and his first impulse of agreement change to a flinch of revulsion. Draco's smile twisted to a sneer.

"You can't do it, can you, Potter?'

"I...." Harry fought back the impulse to reply scornfully. Even if they were alone ... he couldn't. He managed a nod.

"You see, that's the problem. You can think that we're on a level -- and, egalitarian as you are, you probably do think that -- but you now believe, heart and soul, that I am your property." Draco, who had leaned forward while he was explaining this, sat back. "As do I, ridiculously." He shook his head. "We can't be friends that way." He looked down. "If you ... recover enough to do as I asked, I will be friends with you again, if I can."

Harry nodded again. The demand had seemed arbitrary, but put like that, it made a twisted sort of sense. He evaluated Draco for a moment, and tried to imagine sitting down with him for a talk. Which ever way he tried to set it, he could not help but picture Draco at his feet. He could readily imagine the fair head resting against his knee while his hand stroked the softness of that fine hair ... but not Draco beside him. Even remembering earlier encounters that had actually happened -- down by the wyvern cage with his adder, or in the stands at the pitch -- was difficult. He sighed. "Right. I'll see what I can do."

He turned and walked to the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione had saved him a seat between them, and he settled into it gratefully. Seamus, Dean, and Ginny sat across from them, buffering him from people who didn't know yet. Harry wondered if he would actually be able to eat.

He had barely filled his plate when Dumbledore stood.

"Before we start our dinner, I have an announcement."

People looked curiously among themselves. Harry watched Severus toy with the stem of his glass.

"It has been a very long time since a member of our staff has had a child enrolled at Hogwarts." That alone was enough to start some speculative whispering. Dumbledore's voice rose over the sound. "However, this summer, we received documents, and later records, from James Potter, revealing that he was not the natural father of his home-child, Harry."

People were staring at Harry, now. A low susurration of whispers filled the hall. He tried to look unconcerned. A nervous smile kept shaping on his lips.

"Professor Snape rose to the occasion of discovering that he had a school-age child admirably, and earlier today he was formally awarded custody of his son, Harry." Dumbledore waited politely for the people who had choked on food or drink to recover. "And I pleased to say that Harry seems to have got over the understandable shock of discovering he had a parent in the staff room with equal aplomb. We wish them all the best." He clapped for a moment, and a scattering of students followed suit, although they all looked rather stunned.

Dumbledore sat and began to spoon potatoes onto his plate. Harry looked to his father and was surprised to find Severus was not looking back at him. He seemed to be speaking to Remus. When Remus smiled at him and leaned close to whisper, Severus shook his hair in front of his face, but did not draw away. Harry smiled.

"He can't mean it!" someone exclaimed.

"Harry?" Zoë asked. "Are you all right?"

Harry was glad he'd had the ice cream earlier, because it quickly became apparent that he would not get a chance to eat much of his dinner. He seemed to be answering the same questions again and again.

"Fine. No, really, he's been great," alternated with "no, I'm not changing my name," both with more or less detail, depending on how well he knew the questioner. When Ron was starting on his third helping of the roast pork, Harry finally stood up.

"Look," he said to everyone currently within earshot, "I'm fine. I mean it! In fact, I'm really happy. He's been great as a dad, and I'm looking forward to half of my life not being a secret anymore." People stared in outright shock. Teresa had both hands clapped over her mouth. Harry cleared his throat. "But I'm still not going to change my name."

Embarrassed at his own presumption, he sat down. No one else seemed to think he had overstepped the mark. Jack leaned forward.

"Well, why not, then?"

A number of people were openly listening. Harry chose his words carefully. "James Potter loved me, and accepted me, and took as good care of me as he could. I want to continue to honor his memory."

Seamus laughed. "Not to mention how much it would confuse the historical accounts. Come on, Harry, think of the favor you'd be doing to the editors and printers of the world!"

Zoë grinned. "They'd have to put everything into revision."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I think you need to consider the benefits to the national economy, Harry."

"Harry?"

Harry stopped short in the corridor outside the Great Hall. He turned slowly. Olivia was standing behind him, looking uncertain.

"I ... um...." Harry looked down. "I thought you were never going to speak to me again."

Olivia shrugged. "I'm a Slytherin. I don't feel compelled to live up to things I should never have said."

"Oh." Harry couldn't restrain the smile that was determined to occupy his face.

"I didn't understand. I didn't believe it was really important. I mean -- Professor Snape was in danger. You followed him, didn't you? Had you found out what was going to happen?"

"Just after he left, yes. I had to catch up with him. I'm sorry I couldn't explain.'

She offered him a tentative smile. "A hazard of being you?"

"Yeah, sometimes." He looked at her seriously. "Olivia? It's going to continue to be a hazard of being me. I mean, I can't say it won't happen again. I can't say I won't end up hexing or capturing or possibly even killing whomever it was you didn't want me to see last night." He laughed slightly. "Or being killed by them. I can't say I won't die on you, at the worse possible time."

She looked shocked for a moment, then turned up her nose. "Well! If you die on me when you've promised me a night out, I will definitely never speak to you again."

He nodded. "It's a deal."

A moment later, they both burst out laughing.