A Life More Ordinary

Gryffindor Common Room, September 2, 1991

Screaming--a woman screaming and green light spilling everywhere, making everything glow.

Avada Kedavra!

"No!" Harry cried out. He gasped as he realized he wasn't in a green-glowing room but in his new common room, staring at the high ceiling above his head. His heart was beating so wildly that it felt like it would hammer right out of his chest. And he was cold; or maybe he only thought so because he was shivering.

And all alone.

He wished he hadn't sent Hedwig out into the night to hunt.

He swallowed as he stared into the cold fireplace across from the sofa. Rolling slightly, he reached down and wiggled his fingers into the pocket of his robes. He pulled the mirror out for the second time that night. He had stared at it for a long time earlier, knowing it was babyish to want to call his parents to say goodnight.

No one else seemed to mind that they were away from home. And in the end, he'd slipped it back into his pocket and curled up on the sofa, his throat filled with tears he was too old to shed.

Harry's thumb traced the straight edge of the mirror as he tried to convince himself that it was all right to use it now. Not that Sirius would mind ... even if it was the middle of the night. After inhaling slowly, Harry whispered, "Sirius."

The surface of the mirror seemed to waver a little; as if it covered in a thick fog and then there were muffled sounds, one of which sounded distinctly like an oath.

Sirius' worried face appeared in the frame. "Harry?" he asked breathlessly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry answered with a swift nod but his voice cracked and gave him away. Sirius' eyebrows immediately drew together.

"Harry, what's the matter? Where are you?" he demanded, his voice gaining volume.

"Shh," Harry told him quickly, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm in the Gryffindor common room."

Despite the deep lines of worry framing Sirius' eyes, he smiled. "You're in Gryffindor?"

And despite the nightmare, Harry smiled too. "Yeah."

"Congratulations!" Sirius' glanced away for a moment and then said, "Remus sends his along as well."

"Thanks."

Sirius' brows drew together as he gazed out at Harry. "What's the matter, kiddo?"

"Nothing ... it's stupid." Harry could feel a flush creeping up his neck; he caught sight of a clock over the mantle and grimaced. "It's two o'clock--I didn't meant to wake you-"

"Hey," Sirius cut him off, his voice soft and gentle, "when have I ever complained about being woken up?"

Never. Harry smiled a little but it soon faltered. "I had a nightmare," he admitted. "The one about Mum-" He shivered, "-and the green light."

Sirius frowned and his face took up more of the frame as he leaned forward. "You did? It was a just a dream," he said quickly when Harry nodded jerkily. "You're safe."

"I know," Harry whispered, feeling like he was going to cry again. "It's just ... I haven't had it in so long," he said hoarsely. "I forgot what it felt like."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said gently. "I know it hurts." Harry swallowed hard. "Would you like me to come?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes full of all the warmth they always had. And Harry wanted to say yes. But he shook his head, his throat aching even more.

"I'm all right..." He wasn't, but Sirius knew that anyway. He smiled gently.

"You don't have to be, you know," he said quietly. "It's all right to feel upset when you have that dream."

Harry nodded. He knew that, but there was no way he was going to cry in the common room; on his first night.

"Were you thinking of your mum tonight?"

"A little, I guess," Harry answered. "All of you," he added. It gave him a warm feeling to know that his mum and dad, and his parents, had called this room home once. "Our dorms are on the top floor of the tower."

Sirius grinned. "Are they? You dad and Remus and I were up there. Is Ron in Gryffindor?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, smiling as that thought made him feel better. "Oh, and Draco as well. And Neville Longbottom; remember you told me his parents were friends with mum and dad?"

"Draco is in Gryffindor?"

"Yeah. He was pretty upset over it. Said his parent would disown him." Harry's brow furrowed when Sirius didn't say anything. "You don't think they will, do you?"

"They probably won't be pleased that he's not in Slytherin."

Harry frowned. "But it's not his fault."

"No, it isn't," Sirius agreed. "But I don't know that they'll go so far as to disown him."

"I don't think Draco's speaking to me," Harry said, still feeling miserable about that. "Because I didn't understand why he had to be in Slytherin."

"Give him a bit of time to adjust to it. He'll be confused, I'll bet. It'll sort out," Sirius assured him and Harry nodded. He hoped it would. "Did you enjoy the feast?" Sirius asked.

"Draco was angry at me already and I had a headache. It was really strange," Harry added at Sirius' look of surprise; he very rarely had aches. "They sort of just came and went and it only hurt right around my scar."

Harry heard Remus murmuring something and Sirius slid his eyes away for a few seconds; he nodded to Remus and then turned back to Harry. "Can you show me where it hurt, exactly?"

Harry traced his bolt with a forefinger. "Sort of stung a bit."

"That's odd," Sirius mused. "You've never felt that before, have you?"

Harry shook his head.

"What were you doing when it happened?"

"Well, I was trying not to look at Draco so just glancing around the hall--looking at the head table mostly. The new professor kept staring at me."

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Quirrel, yeah. It only happened twice, but both times he was staring at me."

Sirius pinched his cheeks between thumb and forefinger as he thought about that. Remus' hand reached into the viewing plane and the scene shifted away from Sirius.

"How do you feel otherwise?" Remus asked, his face now filling the mirror's smooth surface.

"My neck has a crick in it," Harry said, twisting his neck a bit.

"Your neck?"

"I'm sleeping on the sofa in the common room-"

"Here, let me try something," Sirius voice interrupted and the mirror tilted crazily so that Harry felt like he was upside down. Sirius said some Latin words that Harry didn't understand and suddenly both Remus and Sirius were in the frame; upright. "There," Sirius said with a nod. "Now, why are you sleeping on the sofa?"

"There were only five beds in the dorm."

"The house-elves must have gotten confused," Sirius said, shrugging. "Well, be sure to tell Professor McGonagall in the morning."

"I will."

"Did you eat?" Remus asked, his eyes narrowing as if he was going to be able to tell just by studying Harry's face.

"A little."

"There are loads of sweets in your trunk, if you get hungry," Sirius reminded him.

"Forgot about that," Harry murmured. He was hungry.

"Eat a big breakfast. And some fruit, especially," Remus said firmly. "You can't live on chocolate frogs and sweet rolls."

"I know," Harry said, smiling. "I'll eat a banana first thing at breakfast," he promised.

"Good," Remus said with an approving nod.

Harry gazed at his parents, still smiling. But then his smile faltered a little. "Do you think it means something; the twinges in my scar, I mean?"

"We'll speak to the headmaster first thing tomorrow morning and ask him if he knows anything about it," Sirius said quickly. "But you aren't to fret over it. It's likely nothing."

"All right," Harry said uncertainly. "Even though I dreamed of Mum?"

"It was years ago that you last had that dream about your Mum," Sirius said, after glancing at Remus. "I don't know if you felt pain in your scar at the same time; you were little, but it's possible."

Harry let himself relax then. That made sense, since it had been Voldemort who had given him the scar after he'd killed Mum. "Thanks," he said; his throat was feeling scratchy again.

"That's why I gave you the mirror," Sirius said, smiling. "Whenever you need anything, you're to use it. Even if you just want to say hello."

"Even if I want to say goodnight?" Harry asked, only sort of joking.

"Especially then."

Harry nodded and tried to convince himself that the lump in his throat was only because he was so tired.

"We love you very much, Harry," Sirius said softly. Harry gave them both a watery smile but he managed to say goodnight without crying. He folded the mirror to his chest after his parents disappeared from its frame. A loud squeak made him turn swiftly enough that he wrenched his already-sore neck.

"Blimey," he breathed as he found Hermione frozen in mid-step toward the girls' dorms. She turned; her fingers were clamped over her lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. You were asleep when I came down here and then when you began talking, I couldn't leave without you seeing-"

"It's all right," Harry said hastily as he sat up, not knowing how long another speech might last. It wasn't really, and he knew his face was on fire. He hoped she hadn't heard all of that; him going on and on about his mum, and pain his scar.

"I'm really very sorry," Hermione said again.

Harry shrugged and hoped she couldn't tell that his cheeks were glowing. "Did you come down to use the Floo or something?" he asked to distract her from his embarrassment. Hermione glanced toward the fireplace.

"The Floo? Oh, you mean to contact my parents? No, my parents are Muggles so they aren't connected to the Floo Network. I don't think many students use the Floo in the common room anyway. It wouldn't be especially private. Well, unless it's the middle of the night, I suppose."

Harry nodded, wondering if Hermione realized she gave a speech every time she spoke.

"You're lucky to have that mirror," Hermione added. "I really miss my parents."

"You do?" Harry asked, unable to still his surprise. Hermione cocked her head.

"Of course. Don't you miss yours?"

"Well ... yeah," Harry admitted. "But nobody else seemed to."

Hermione smiled a little as she sat on the chairs facing the sofa. "The first year girls all miss their parents. Parvati even misses her dog. I'm sure the other boys miss their parents as well," she added, "even if they won't admit it."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

"Boys wouldn't want to admit it because it makes them look like they aren't tough, I suppose. But for most of us, this is a significant change, Harry. It would be rather odd if we didn't miss our families."

Harry smiled as he thought about that. "Do you have any pets at home to miss?" he asked, settling in a little against the sofa cushion.

"No. I've always wanted a cat though."

"Why didn't you bring one to Hogwarts? You're allowed one."

"My parents took me to the Magical Menagerie but they didn't have many cats. My dad promised to take me again over Christmas to look for one again."

"Must have been weird to get your Hogwarts letter, wasn't it?" Harry asked. "Since you didn't know you were magical."

"Professor McGonagall brought mine personally," Hermione explained. "My parents were a bit shocked at first, but I've been doing accidental magic for years so they were relieved to finally have an explanation and McGonagall was very nice. My parents liked her right away."

Harry smiled. "I met her when I was five, right after I went to live with Sirius. We were going to Diagon Alley."

"Were you?" Hermione leaned forward as she folded up one leg under the thigh. "That must have been so interesting to go there when you were so little. I couldn't believe half the things I saw there. I can only imagine how in awe you must have been."

"I met Ollivander for the first time then too," Harry said with a grin. "The wand maker. He's knows everything about wands and magical creatures."

"My mum was a bit nervous of him," Hermione said, smiling at the memory. "He's a bit intense about his work, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Harry said, chuckling a little. "He's the best though. I wrote an essay about his work last summer. Interviewed him and everything."

"Really? Oh, I'd love to read it," Hermione said, looking as though the ideas was the best she'd heard in ages. "Do you have it?"

"At home."

"Oh," Hermione sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

"I do have some books that Ollivander gave me; about wand making."

Hermione was leaning forward again, her hands clasped together eagerly. "Have you?"

"Remus said we were going to study the basics this year in History of Magic so I asked Ollivander for extra books. Would you like to borrow them?"

Hermione's head bobbed so vigorously that Harry was afraid it might snap right off.

"I have two," Harry told her. "You can read one while I read the other and then we'll switch."

Hermione beamed and Harry felt altogether better about everything.

--

Draco's curtains were still drawn when Harry came into the upper level dorm a few hours later, rubbing the grit of exhaustion from his eyes. The rest of the boys, except Neville, were fast asleep in their beds.

"Did you sleep all right, Harry?"

Harry turned, finding Neville coming out of the bathroom, his damp hair wild and his smart shirt sticking in wet splotches against his chest.

"Yeah," Harry assured him, though he hadn't slept much after Hermione had finally gone back upstairs. And that couch had been bloody uncomfortable.

"Do you think one of us will have to be resorted?" Neville asked worriedly. "There doesn't seem to be enough room for another bed."

"If they're looking for volunteers," Seamus said through a wide yawn as he rolled over, "Draco can take the empty bed in Slytherin; they must have one."

"I don't think they resort students," Harry said, frowning at Seamus. "And Draco's every bit a Gryffindor as the rest-"

Draco's head popped through a break in the heavy curtains. "If my father has anything to say about it, I'll be where I belong before this evening is out."

"Your father?" Ron echoed, rubbing at his eyes as he pushed himself up on his elbows. "Did you Floo him or something?"

Draco didn't answer as he slid off the bed and gave the other boy a disdainful sniff, but Harry could see that Berenices' cage was empty. Draco must have ordered her to make record time to Malfoy Manor.

Ron narrowed his eyes at the back of Draco's head as the blond went into the lav without another glance. The door thudded loudly behind him.

"Oh, he's not a git at all," Ron said, rolling his eyes toward Harry as he swung his legs over the mattress.

"I think he's just shocked is all," Neville said. "My gran says the Malfoys have always been in Slytherin; his mum's family as well ... except for Sirius."

"Sirius?" That was Dean, who had been observing the entire exchange; he looked confused.

"Harry's dad," Ron said as he rummaged through his trunk for clothes.

Dean didn't look any less confused as he turned to Harry. "Your dad?"

"Sirius is Draco's cousin," Harry said.

"You call your dad by his first name?"

"Sirius isn't his real dad," Seamus piped up; he was doffing his pajama top and wadding it up into a ball; Harry frowned. Sirius was as real as any dad. "Me mum read all about it."

"All about what?" Dean asked, even more mystified as he looked between the other four boys.

"Harry's parents were killed a long time ago," Seamus explained and Harry wished he would stop talking for him. "By a dark wizard, me mum said and so Harry was an orphan. Sirius is his godfather."

"So your godfather adopted you, then?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Dean nodded a little. "My dad isn't my real father either. My real father left when I was little and my mum got married again. Why did the wizard kill your parents?"

"Harry killed the wizard," Seamus volunteered before Harry could answer. "He's famous in wizarding Britain."

"You are?"

Harry shrugged as his face grew hot.

"It's almost breakfast," Neville said quickly and Harry shot him a grateful smile. "We'd better hurry."

Draco emerged from the lav then, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers.

"I think you have to wear the rest of your uniform," Seamus said, eyeing the robes and tie over Draco's arms.

"They're maroon and gold," Draco said as he tossed them onto his rumpled bed.

"Of course they are," Ron said, shaking his head. "Those are Gryffindors' colors."

"And since I won't be Gryffindor much longer," Draco said, "there isn't any reason for me to wear them."

"There isn't anything wrong with being a Gryffindor, you know," Ron said, taking the stance which told Harry that his friend was ready to fight.

"There is if you're a Malfoy," Draco said simply and though both Ron and Seamus looked offended at that, Draco hadn't even included a sneer in the words. "You aren't Malfoys, so you wouldn't understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron demanded.

"It means exactly as I said. My family expects certain things from me and whether you like it or not, that does not include being in Gryffindor."

"There isn't," Ron began again but Draco cut him off.

"How would you feel if you were in Slytherin?" Draco smiled a little, lifting his chin as Ron abruptly shut up. "There isn't anything wrong with being Slytherin either."

"You-Know-Who was a Slytherin," Seamus interjected. "And me mum says all his followers were Slytherin too. That's who killed Harry's parents," he added for Dean's benefit.

"Can we stop talking about my parents?" Harry grumbled, and Seamus shrugged.

"It's true, isn't it? And no one except a pureblood maniac wants to be a Slytherin."

"There isn't anything wrong with being a pureblood," Draco said, beginning to scowl. He gestured sharply to Neville and Ron. "They're purebloods, and so are Sirius and Harry's real father-"

"Sirius isn't some sort of fake father!" Harry finally exploded. The other boys stared at him.

"He isn't your biological father," Draco said, huffing a little.

"So what?" Harry demanded, feeling his face growing hot all over again. "He's still my father. I have three fathers, no matter who adopted me or performed a ritual or married my mum!"

"Three fathers?" Dean echoed and Harry groaned.

"Can we just drop this? All of this. It doesn't matter how many fathers I have and it doesn't matter who's in Slytherin or Gryffindor."

"Well, of course you'd say that," Draco said, making a face. "You're in Gryffindor just like you wanted."

"The Hat put you in Gryffindor," Harry retorted, trying not to be angry, but failing miserably. "So, that must be where you're supposed to be. McGonagall said it's the Hat's job to put students where they belong."

"I belong in Slytherin," Draco said stubbornly.

"So then go tell the Hat," Ron said sharply.

"Exactly my plan," Draco said, lifting his chin a little.

"But I don't think the Sorting Hat listens to students," Neville said, his voice timid as his eyes darted over to Draco.

"My father is a very powerful man," Draco said. "He and the Minister of Magic are good friends."

"You really think the Minister is going to care what house you're in?" Dean asked doubtfully.

"If Draco's dad has enough money, he'll care," Ron muttered.

"At least my father has money."

Ron stiffened and Harry intervened before he could. "Draco, I don't think-"

"Oh, of course," Draco said, whirling on Harry. "Defend Ron, but don't say a word when he insults my father."

"Draco, come on," Harry said quietly, "this is a stupid argument. Let's just get dressed and go down to breakfast."

Draco's lips were mashed together and after a silent moment, he shook his head. "I'm dressed already."

"Draco," Harry tried to halt his friend's exit but Draco paid no attention to the summons, disappearing down the stairs.

"Finally-"

Harry turned on his best mate, scowling. "You didn't have to say that."

Ron's ginger eyebrows scrunched together. "It's true though, Harry. My dad says Draco's dad keeps the Minister's pockets lined with gold."

"Doesn't mean you had to say it," Harry said, shaking his head. "I already told you that Draco's not his father-"

"Wants to be, looks like," Seamus said as he and Dean made their way into the lav. Dean nodded.

"How does Harry have three fathers, then? Did his second one die too?"

"Nah, Sirius married Remus Lupin--he writes books. Me mum's gaga over them..."

Harry blew out a breath and turned away from Ron to dig through his trunk for his clothes. Neville and Ron followed suit, neither of them speaking either.

--

"It doesn't say anywhere in the regulations that a student has to wear colored ties or robes with patches," Malfoy was insisting to a pinch-lipped McGonagall when the rest of the first year boys arrived in the Great Hall.

"It is assumed, Mr. Malfoy."

"Assumed, but not specified," Draco said with a little nod. McGonagall opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. But you will receive the same timetable as the other Gryffindor first years. Even in black tie and plain robes, you are still a Gryffindor."

"Professor Sinistra will have to give me a new time table tomorrow," Draco said swiftly, "when I'm resorted-"

"I have told you once, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said firmly, "you will not be resorted. And despite your own wishes, Professor Sinistra will not be your Head of House."

"My father," Draco started to say, but McGonagall simply plunked down a piece of parchment from a pile she was holding and pivoted away.

"Ah, just in time to receive your timetables," she said to Harry and the others. "You have Charms first this morning. Eat quickly, so that you won't be late." She handed out timetables to each of them and continued on her way down the table.

Draco stood where he was, staring at McGonagall's ramrod back. He swallowed and then turned on his heel and left the hall. Harry set his pack and his timetable down next to the spot where Ron had already dropped onto the bench and followed Draco into the corridor.

Draco's timetable was clenched in his fist as he stalked toward the enchanted staircase.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked as he caught up with his friend.

Draco didn't answer and before Harry could ask again, the gargantuan entrance door opened with a loud bang. Both Harry and Draco jumped and then Draco drew himself up, his shoulders straightening as his entire posture stiffened.

"Father," he said politely. Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes and was silent for a long moment.

"It seems your mother was right to be concerned about a friendship with Harry," he finally said icily as his gaze swept over Harry. "I have not yet told her of your disloyalty."

Disloyalty?

Lucius' cold lips sneered at Harry's confusion. "The Sorting Hat does not place students where they have no desire to be."

"I don't want to be in Gryffindor-"

"Silence, Draco."

Draco bowed his head.

"Come," Lucius commanded. "We have an appointment with the headmaster."

Lucius turned away and Draco followed, his eyes still on the stones beneath his feet. Harry watched them traverse the enchanted staircase until they were out of sight.

"Do you think he's right?"

Harry turned to find Ron and Neville behind him, Ron holding out Harry's pack.

"That Draco wanted to be in Gryffindor, I mean?" Ron clarified.

"I don't suppose Mr. Malfoy would lie about it," Harry said. "He seemed pretty angry with Draco."

"If the three of you continue to dawdle," Hermione's impatient voice admonished them as she strode by, "you're going to end up losing points for Gryffindor."

"Is she ever annoying," Ron muttered as they fell in step behind her.

"She has a point," Harry said, shrugging. Ron muttered something else, but this time even Harry couldn't decipher it.

--

McGonagall stopped behind Harry just after he slid onto the bench beside Ron for dinner, startling him as she rapped his shoulder with three fingers. "Potter, you and I have been requested in the headmaster's office."

"Me?"

"Yes, Potter, you," McGonagall said as she waved an impatient hand toward the exit. "Now, if you don't mind, Potter. I have a full schedule this evening. And Professor Dumbledore is waiting."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry mumbled; the rest of his housemates were staring at him, Ron with a sympathetic grimace, Hermione with curiosity and Neville with fear. Draco, even though Harry had searched for him between classes, had been missing all day.

"Quick-smart now, Potter," McGonagall admonished when they were hurrying up the moving staircase, though Harry was going as fast as he could. When they finally reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office the professor said, "Enchanted Fizzies." A whirling set of stairs was revealed and McGonagall ushered Harry up ahead of her. She knocked sharply on the wooden door at the top and it swung open.

Harry grinned. Sirius and Remus were standing in front of Dumbledore's desk, Sirius holding out his arms already and Harry dove into them. Sirius chuckled as he hugged him tightly.

"We missed you too," he said into Harry's hair and Harry didn't even object when his godfather planted a kiss on his head.

"How are you?" Remus asked as he took his turn.

"We had Charms this morning," Harry told him, still grinning as Remus released him. "And Professor Flitwick is brilliant, just like you said. Hermione and I--that's one of the girls in Gryffindor--were the only one who could manage to transfigure our matches at all. Hermione's was better than mine, though; more pointy. We were trying to make needles."

"Well done," Sirius congratulated him, slinging an arm across his shoulders.

"Thanks." Harry glanced around, finding Dumbledore behind his desk with a warm smile and McGonagall still standing by the door. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to speak with the headmaster about those pains you felt in your scar," Sirius said.

"Have you felt them again since last night, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he motioned toward the empty chairs in front of his desk. Harry sat beside Sirius, glancing at his godfather, who smiled encouragingly.

"At lunch, sir," Harry answered with a quick nod. "And, erm ... on my way back from class this afternoon."

"Was Professor Quirrel nearby at either of those times?"

"Yes, sir, both times."

Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk. "Can you tell me exactly what happened each time, Harry?" he asked quietly. "Sparing no detail."

So Harry explained that he'd met Quirrel's gaze at lunch and he and the other Gryffindor first years had seen him on their way back to their dorms later that afternoon; Quirrel had been coming out of an unmarked door and as soon as he turned around, Harry's scar had begun to burn.

"And this happened during the feast as well?" Dumbledore queried, leaning forward slightly. "Only when you and the professor looked at one another?"

"Yes sir."

"Tell me," the headmaster said softly, "have you ever felt such a pain near your scar? Even a twinge?"

"No sir."

"And you are certain that is where you felt it yesterday evening and again today?"

Harry's fingers went to the spot where it had burned. "Yes sir." Realizing he was running his fingers over the lightning bolt, Harry dropped his hand. Dumbledore smiled gently at him.

"Thank you, Harry."

"Erm, you're welcome, sir," Harry said, flushing little. He wasn't sure what the headmaster was grateful for. But Dumbledore simply continued to smile as he stood up. "I will attend to the matter, immediately," he said, addressing Sirius and Remus. "We will speak again in the morning. And Harry," he added, "I should like to know if you feel pain in your scar again."

"Yes sir."

Dumbledore nodded and then gestured for McGonagall. "I will leave you to Professor McGonagall," he said. "Good Evening."

Sirius and Remus watched Dumbledore leave, both of them with furrowed brows before McGonagall came to stand in front of the desk, capturing their attention.

"Harry had his first flying lesson this morning," she began and she actually smiled, which Harry hadn't been certain she was capable of. "He is quite gifted," she went on. "His housemate, Neville, lost control of his broom during the lesson and it went berserk. He dropped his Remembrall while he was whizzing about and Harry captured it, while hanging upside down, I might add."

"Upside Down," Remus said, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

"It was going awfully fast and I had to chase it a bit," Harry explained quickly, hoping Remus wouldn't lecture him about safety, though of course that's why McGonagall had probably told them. "I didn't mean to break any rules," he added, hoping that might help. Technically, Madame Hooch hadn't given him instructions to tail the lost Remembrall.

"Oh, Harry didn't break any rules," McGonagall said, making Harry scrunch his eyebrows in confusion. Why was she telling them, then? "The children were all in the air, under instruction. Harry simply dove for the Remembrall when Neville dropped it; quite by instinct, I imagine. He reminded me of his father."

Both Remus and Sirius smiled.

"James was brilliant on a broom," Sirius agreed, squeezing his godson's shoulder and Harry relaxed a little.

"Gryffindor's Seeker graduated last year," McGonagall continued, "and I would like to recruit Harry for the position. Judging by what I saw this afternoon, his talent is unrivaled by any other student I have ever seen."

"He's had that particular talent since he was little," Sirius said, obvious pride shining in his eyes and Harry felt his chest expanding with warmth.

McGonagall smiled again. "First years don't usually play on the House teams, of course, though it is not expressly forbidden. The headmaster has given his permission."

Harry watched as Sirius and Remus held a silent conversation with their eyes. Finally Remus nodded.

"It's up to Harry, of course, whether or not he'd like to play."

"Your choice, kiddo."

Harry, his stomach dancing with excitement, nodded. The twins had been telling Harry for years that he had to try out for Seeker the moment he stepped into Hogwarts.

"Excellent," McGonagall said, clapping her hands together. "He can use one of the school brooms, of course-"

"We'll buy him a broom," Sirius interrupted. "The new Nimbus 2000 models are out."

McGonagall nodded, looking very satisfied.

"What do you say, Harry?" Sirius said with grin. "Would you like to take a trip to Diagon Alley this weekend to buy it? And you'll need proper Quidditch gear."

Harry nodded eagerly, but then he glanced at his Head of House. "Am I allowed to do that?" McGonagall patted his shoulder.

"I don't see why not, Mr. Potter. You are hardly a prisoner here. You enjoy your parents now," she said, "and I'll go tell Wood the good news--Gryffindor's team captain. He will be delighted. Gryffindor hasn't won the cup in several years."

Still smiling, McGonagall left the office.

"I don't think I've ever seen her so cheerful," Sirius remarked as the door closed behind her.

"Quidditch always made Minerva cheerful," Remus said with a smile. "Especially if Gryffindor won." He and Sirius shared a look of amusement but then they became serious again as they turned back to Harry.

"How was the rest of your night?" Sirius asked.

"I didn't have another nightmare. Hermione--the girl who almost transfigured her match--was homesick too so I talked to her. Her parents are Muggles and she can't contact them except with a school owl."

"If she'd like to arrange a time with her parents," Sirius said thoughtfully as he nodded, "perhaps I could visit with them and you could use your mirror to contact me. So she could talk to them for a little while, at least."

"Yeah?"

Sirius smiled. "Absolutely."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Sirius! She'll be really pleased. Did Dumbledore know what made my scar hurt?" Harry asked, remembering that Hermione had been very interested in that after they'd finished talking about wand making.

"He agreed that it might simply go along with your dream, as we discussed," Remus said. "But he also suggested that your scar might be interacting with Dark Magic. Professor Quirrel spent a great deal of time this summer around Dark Magic; as part of his studies."

"That just means that because your scar was created by Dark Magic, other forms might affect it," Sirius explained. "Professor Dumbledore is going to assist Professor Quirrel in cleansing the magic from his magical aura if he does indeed find some."

"Oh. So then, it won't happen again, right?"

"Not unless it accompanies your dreams," Sirius said, shaking his head. "But either way, if you feel it again, I want you to tell us, all right?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah," he agreed, glad it wasn't anything to worry over.

--

Albus took his gaze from the dead body at his feet as the classroom Floo flared. "Severus," he said solemnly as the Potioneer stepped through the flames. "Thank you for coming."

"Your wish, Headmaster," Severus said, his head dipping with respect.

"Did you bring the potion?"

Severus reached inside his robes and withdrew a vial of puce liquid. "How long has he been dead?" he inquired clinically as he bent on one knee beside the dead man.

"He died just before I sent my Patronus along--ten minutes," Albus said wearily.

Severus glanced up, his eyes narrowing a little. He flicked his wrist and a chair drew itself behind the headmaster. Albus sat in it, murmuring his gratitude. Severus went back to his study of Quirnius.

"There should be no problems," Severus said. At Albus' nod, Severus spelled the contents of the potion directly into Quirnius' veins. "Even to an expert, he will appear to have had a heart attack. Unusual at his age, but not unheard of."

"Thank you," Albus murmured again. Severus nodded as he stood and Albus sighed. "I'm afraid I have very bad news, Severus."

"The Dark Lord is not entirely dispatched," Severus said and Albus smiled despite the circumstances.

"You can feel his magic," he guessed.

"I spent too much time in his presence not to recognize it," Severus said with a small nod. "The Dark Lord remains, as you have always asserted? And Quirrel was possessed? You should not have expelled his spirit alone," Severus added at Albus' confirmation. "You might have been killed along with him."

"Who should I have summoned, Severus?" Albus asked, his eyebrows high. "I could not allow whatever remains of Voldemort to recognize you. You are entirely too valuable to me."

Severus frowned as his eyes flicked to Voldemort's latest victim. "Then, you believe he will return again?"

Albus sighed deeply as his gaze followed Severus. "I have long suspected it," he said quietly, "and now I am certain of it. He will not rest until he kills Harry." He forced his eyes away from the body. "I must ask something else of you, Severus."

Severus met his eyes.

"Draco has been sorted into Gryffindor and as you might guess, Lucius is not pleased. He has threatened to remove Draco from Hogwarts."

"I imagine not," Severus agreed. His eyes were calculating. "This was your doing, Headmaster?"

"I believe Draco will be an asset to Harry."

"Draco will not be able to assist Harry in fulfilling the destiny you insist he must if he is attending Durmstrang; that will no doubt be Lucius' first choice."

"I admit I am uncertain how to proceed."

"Perhaps you should not have interfered with the Hat's wisdom," Severus said dryly.

Albus allowed himself a small smile. "Perhaps."

"What is it you wish of me?" Severus asked into the ensuing silence.

"Convince Lucius that there are some things more important than Slytherin House."

"And while I am convincing him," Severus said with a nod of agreement, "you might wish to discuss with both Minerva and Aurora a solution to foster Draco's associations with the other Slytherins. Draco will be of little use to you if he is shunned by those who will most certainly serve the Dark Lord."

Albus clasped his hands in his lap, studying the sharp planes of Severus' features. "You make a good point," he agreed.

Severus inclined his head. "I will contact you after I speak with Lucius."

"Thank you, Severus," Albus said again and with another nod, Severus went back through the green flames. Albus slumped in his chair, his heart heavy as he stared at Quirnius' empty eyes. He regretted the half-truths which he had told Sirius and Remus, but there was little point in frightening them. They did not need to know. Not yet.