Lily's Charm: The Gift

1981--only days before Lily's lie.

James paced with heavy-footed steps in front of the fireplace. He could hear Lily singing to Harry as she re-settled him for the second time since James had returned from the meeting. The toddler always struggled on the nights that Severus wasn't home. With a deep sigh, James glanced at the empty fireplace, as though by sheer force of will, he could make Severus appear.

Startled in spite of himself, James blinked as the Floo roared up in green flames at precisely the moment he had been wishing it would.

Severus' face was ashen as he came through. James moved forward to wrap his arms around the other man's back; Severus leaned against him, allowing James to assist him toward a chair. As soon as James released him, Severus sank into the depths of Lily's squishy chair. James waved his wand, swiftly removing the Death Eater's robes that Severus loathed.

Severus nodded at him, murmuring a quiet word of gratitude. James didn't respond as he called for their house-elf. He asked the eager servant to bring Severus some tea. The elf complied and within another moment, James was handing a cup of the steaming tea to his friend. Severus didn't drink; he simply stared down at the dark liquid with his eyes half-closed.

Not wanting to disturb him just yet, James chanted a Diagnostic Spell over the other man. All signs of the Muggle irritant had vanished and though Severus' torso and arms were laden with various bruises, he was in one piece. James sighed quietly in relief and sat in the chair opposite Severus. When Severus continued to stare into his cup, James quietly encouraged, "Drink."

Severus looked up from under hooded eyes. Skipping the usual comment about James' mother-hen-ish tendencies, he took a shallow sip. Another cautious sip and then with an agitated movement, Severus set the saucer down with a clatter. He glared at James, sitting up straighter now. "Resorted to lacing my tea with Calming Draughts, have you?" he scathed.

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, just drink it before Lily comes down and finds you in this state," he said, paying no attention to the way Severus' black eyes snapped in irritation.

"I do not need a Potion to calm myself," he bit out.

James raised an eyebrow. "Clearly," he agreed sardonically. Severus scowled at him, but a moment later, he was sipping at the tea again, though his expression had darkened considerably. When half of the tea had been consumed, James asked quietly, "Did you get the rest of the Muggles out?"

Severus was staring into the fireplace, watching the orange flames spitting against one another. "Eight."

James stared at him. An entire village? Out of an entire village, there had only been eight survivors? Without meaning to, James' gaze fell on Severus' fingers; the dark blood was gone. Severus' eyes had wandered to his pale fingers as well. They twitched restlessly against his lap.

"It was a little boy."

James looked up sharply at the strangled whisper. Severus was staring at him, his face half-cast in shadows. His lips were twisted in disgust. "Dolohov tortured him and his parents--beat them...raped the mother. When I came upon them, the boy was just barely alive--breathing in his last few breaths," Severus intoned, sounding as though he didn't care at all. But James knew better.

He swallowed painfully as Severus continued in a sandy voice, "His father and mother were already dead...but the boy--the boy...I tried to stop the bleeding James, but after I took care of Dolohov...it was too late." Severus took a deep, shaky breath. "There was too much blood-"

Severus' fingers clenched convulsively on his knees, his teeth mashing together and James knew he was trying, without success, to occlude his mind. "He could not have been much older than Harry..." he finally exhaled, his eyes shadowed beyond mere pain. And for once, James had no idea what to say. He simply stayed in the opposite chair, and watched his friend silently bringing his emotions under control.

Severus' face was perfectly passive when Lily came into the room in her dressing gown several minutes later, her arms full of tear-streaked toddler. Her voice was rife with exasperation as she said, "James, would you-" She stopped as Severus rose from her chair and went toward her; her face melted into a smile filled with relief. "Severus," she breathed; Harry's instantly craned his neck to see Severus.

"Daddy," he croaked hoarsely. "Daddy!" he demanded, his voice pitching to let all of them know a long crying spell would follow if Severus didn't comply immediately. Simultaneously, Severus drew his sniffling son into one arm, and Lily into the other.

"Are you all right?" Lily asked quietly. "It's so late--"

"I thought you would be sleeping," Severus told her; his way of apologizing for not coming up to tell her he was home, as well as avoiding her query. Lily groaned in response, momentarily bypassing the issue of Severus' long night.

"Your son," she informed him with a mild glare at said boy as she stepped away from Severus, "has been up and down at least a dozen times since I put him to bed in the first place."

Severus, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened to him in the past few hours, eyed Harry's blood-shot eyes and snotty nose. "Is that so?" he inquired, his voice lilting so that Harry smiled. But it didn't last. His lower lip began to tremble, as exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he began wailing. Expertly, Severus tucked the little boy into his chest, and moving his hand lightly over Harry's back, he patted gentle circles.

The cries eased as Severus spoke in a low voice, reassuring Harry that he was all right. It only took a few minutes of the rhythmic shushing, until Harry's eyelids began to droop, and finally he succumbed to his father's deep voice.

Lily sighed, looking incredibly tired. Severus considered her weary face for a moment, before saying softly, "I will take care of Harry. You should sleep."

Lily ran a gentle hand over Harry's mussed hair as she stifled a yawn with her other hand. Then she narrowed her in eyes in concentration as she studied her husband's face. "Are you all right?" she asked again. Severus nodded smoothly. Lily didn't look at all convinced, but she nodded anyway, knowing somehow that no matter how tired he was, Severus needed Harry in his arms right now, and that he didn't wouldn't share the night's events with her; he never did. She reached her fingers up to caress Severus' cheek. "Don't stay up too late, all right?"

Severus nodded obediently and then, in a rare display, he clasped her fingers so that they were caught against his cheek. He pulled them around to his lips and kissed them lightly. Lily smiled in surprise. "Sleep," Severus ordered in one of his gentlest voices. Lily stretched up on her toes to kiss her husband's cheek before retrieving her trapped fingers and turning toward the stairs. Severus watched her until she was out of sight.

"It is time to end this."

James, who had turned slightly out of respect for Severus, spun around again. "You want to try the Charm?" he asked, too startled to keep his voice low for Harry's sake. Harry stirred but didn't wake.

"No," Severus denied in a hushed voice. James stared at him in confusion. "I will not risk Lily...it is time I took care of Voldemort myself," he explained, his voice growing deadly in its quiet.

"But," James tried to protest.

"We will simply need to find them," Severus interrupted, his jaw clenching until it looked painful.

James doubted it would be so simple, not with the two of them and likely Albus... Severus wouldn't even be able to help--not if it meant leaving Lily for any extended period of time. Taking a bit of a leap, James said in a rush, "Remus and Sirius could help. There wouldn't be any reason to hide anymore," he tried to reason, but Severus was scowling at him already.

"Black will sooner kill me than offer me his assistance," Severus pointed out, though he sounded more resigned to it than angry. And James couldn't deny that accusation, but Severus was rather missing the point.

"He'll do anything to help Harry," he explained. Severus snorted, making James' black eyebrows lift in surprise at the unfamiliar sound.

"Not once he learns that Harry has been my son all along," he retorted in a dark voice, and James realized with a start that the thought of Sirius so easily tossing Severus' precious Harry aside, was what caused the anger now.

"He won't turn against Harry, just because you're his father," James denied quickly, but even as he said it, he knew he couldn't be certain it was true.

--

1996

Harry found it extremely difficult not to heave a gusty sigh of relief as the jittery photographer finally pulled her camera down with a final nod. The Minister immediately dropped his hand and Harry let it drop down to his side, doing his best to be inconspicuous as he ran the damp palm against his robes.

"Thank you, Harry," Scrimgeour said for perhaps the tenth time in the past hour.

"You're welcome, sir," Harry repeated, wishing he could ask the Minister to quit echoing a sentiment he didn't really mean.

"If you have any questions before tomorrow evening, Harry, please contact me directly," Scrimgeour instructed with a final smile as he began neatly arranging his robes around himself as he prepared to leave.

"Before you leave, Rufus," Dumbledore put in from beside Severus, "I believe Harry would like to have a word with you about Lucius."

Scrimgeour paused in his meticulous arranging; he turned so that he was facing Harry and Harry glimpsed the irritation as it left his face. "Of course, Harry," he said easily, nothing but acceptance in his features now as he waited for Harry to speak. Harry gazed squarely at him, not giving in to the nervous tingle in his chest.

"I'd like to speak on his behalf at his trial," he told the old ex-Auror. Scrimgeour's face remained still.

"I did not realize knowledge of his trial had become public," he said, his eyes glancing toward Dumbledore. Dumbledore's expression remained mild, and the Minister explained to Harry, "Lucius Malfoy will be tried in front of the Wizengamot. They will call their own witnesses."

"Lucius has been assigned an advocate, has he not?" Dumbledore asked in a voice full of polite interest. A tiny muscle straining slightly in Scrimgeour's jaw betrayed him as he nodded smoothly. "I assume you would prefer to inform Lucius' advocate yourself of Harry's desire to speak at the trial, rather than Severus initiating contact," Dumbledore inquired, his blue eyes full of innocence. Scrimgeour's pause was heavy.

"I would be delighted to take care of the arrangements for you, Harry," he finally answered.

Just as Harry was about to issue another polite thank you, Severus intervened, "I will look forward to hearing from Lucius' advocate within the next day."

Again the miniscule muscle twitched along the Minister's powerful jaw. He nodded briskly. "She will contact you as soon as possible," he promised. At Severus' nod, Scrimgeour drew himself up so that he looked quite regal. "I am most honored to accommodate your son in any way I can, Professor."

Harry watched as his father's eyes lit in calculation at the generous statement. Scrimgeour continued, unblinking, "I would be pleased if you would give some further thought to my proposal for your property." When Severus said nothing, Scrimgeour added grandly, "Your son will be remembered for generations to come."

"As will you," Severus returned blandly. Scrimgeour did not disagree. Severus gazed at him for a long moment; each one of them seemed to be sizing the other up. Finally Severus inclined his head. "Perhaps I will have time to consider it once all the festivities have ended," he told the other man. The Minister's jaw remained perfectly still this time as he nodded.

"My gratitude, Professor," he said smoothly. Then with a final nod, a sleek thank you to Harry, and another bone-crushing handshake, which Harry was almost certain was even firmer than the first one, the Minister took his leave.

"Well, that could have gone better," Harry grimaced as the door closed behind Percy. Dumbledore smiled and offered Harry a sweet, to which Harry shook his head.

"I thought it went rather well," Severus said, with a trace of a smirk, shaking his head at the Headmaster's little tin of candy. Harry gave his father a look of amusement.

"That's because Scrimgeour had to beg you to allow that photo. I think he would've actually groveled if you hadn't agreed when you did."

Severus raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Dumbledore chuckled as he waved his wand to return his chairs to their proper places. "Your father is a skilled negotiator, Harry," he said seriously. Harry smiled as he nodded a little, though he didn't think negotiation was precisely the right term for what his father had engaged in with Scrimgeour.

It had felt wonderful to have someone with legal leverage to stick up for him though. McGonagall had done her best last year, and even Dumbledore in his own way. And Sirius...behind the scenes...but this was very different. His father had clearly been in charge...and there hadn't been anything the sly Minister could do about it.

"You agreed to allow Harry to miss class?"

Harry turned a little to study his father's raised eyebrow.

"I simply told the Minister that I would arrange it with Harry's teachers should you agree," Dumbledore explained with a knowing smile, and Harry wasn't surprised when his father frowned.

"Harry has missed enough class," he decreed, finalizing that discussion. Dumbledore simply continued to smile.

"Only one day off?" Harry couldn't help but ask. His father gave him a pointed look.

"Christmas holidays are only a few weeks away."

Harry's smile faltered.

Christmas... His mind roved to last Christmas...the closest he'd ever come to a proper Christmas. After all, the Weasleys were almost family and Sirius--well, he had been family. Harry pushed Sirius away, wishing he could keep him locked away. Like he used to be able to do.

His father was studying him and Harry tried a smile. It was unsuccessful, but Severus didn't ask what was bothering him. Not with Dumbledore smiling at them.

--

The stone staircase took its time in spinning Harry and Severus back to the main level. While they spun, Harry asked, "Are you really going to let Scrimgeour have his monument?"

Severus considered him as they revolved. "Do you think you would ever wish to live on the property?"

Harry shuddered at the thought. "No," he answered with a firm shake of his head. The idea was...well, it was repulsive actually.

Severus nodded briskly; Harry's sentiments were echoed in his expression. "We shall see if it proves incentive enough for the Minister."

"What is it that you think he's going to do?" Harry asked curiously. It didn't seem as though Scrimgeour had anything in mind other than making sure the wizarding world thought that he and Harry were as close as any two mates.

"There will be many powerful wizards and witches at the dinner," Severus told him. "People whom Scrimgeour hopes to influence as well. He wants to use you," he explained and Harry smiled at the way his father said the words, as though they were the very foulest he could ever utter.

"I'm not going to agree to do anything," Harry pointed out, and had to press his lips together to keep from grinning as his father narrowed his eyes.

"I will not give him an opportunity to ask anything of you," he said curtly. With a sharp sweep, he turned to face Harry. "If he or any of his staff contact you, you are to tell me immediately."

Harry nodded. "All right," he agreed easily. It seemed his father was worrying needlessly. The man did have a penchant for the overdramatic, after all.

"I am not overdramatic," Severus informed Harry coolly as he faced forward again. Harry's green eyes widened.

"How did you know I was thinking that?" he demanded, wondering if his father had mastered their connection well enough that he could actually read his mind without his knowledge. Severus' lips quirked in amusement.

"I believe I told you once that your emotions are easy to read," he drawled. "And," he continued with a full smirk, when Harry began to argue, "your eye-rolling tends to denote you think I am acting in a manner akin to Molly Weasley."

"Oh," Harry said, chagrined. He hadn't realized he'd rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he offered sheepishly.

His father asked in an overly-serious voice, "For comparing me to Molly Weasley or for rolling your eyes?"

Harry kept his eyes straight ahead as he said in the same serious tone, "Well, I'm not going to apologize for something that's true...just because you don't want to hear that you're basically an old mother hen."

Severus' gave him a glare as the stairs finally stopped spinning. Whatever retort he wanted to make, was cut off by an excited squeal. Harry turned quickly; a group of girls, spearheaded by none other than his feisty admirer, Elizabeth from Hufflepuff, was waiting for them; one of the younger girls in the back seemed to be the squealer. And a scowling Ginny, flanked by Ron and Hermione, was waiting as well.

Ginny, Ron and Hermione came toward them as soon as the squeal rang out. Ginny wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, standing much closer to him than she usually did when they were in a public place. Harry turned back to his father. "We're going to go outside for awhile, all right?" The question sounded awkward, though he couldn't quite figure out why. But Severus nodded, not seeming to notice.

"You need a coat," he observed. Ron held out George's old brown coat to match the one he was already wearing. Harry took it with a grateful smile and wriggled his arms into it. It was too long, but it would do. "I will see you at dinner," Severus said as Harry zipped up the warm jacket, before he turned toward the dungeons.

Harry wasn't certain his father had glared at the group of bubbly girls that were still waiting as he swept past them, but either way, they quieted their irritating chatter.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione ordered tartly, her nose turned up a little in disdain as they made their way toward the entrance hall doors. Harry thought Hermione's attitude was on his behalf--until he noticed the goofy look on Ron's face as they passed the giggling girls. "Honestly," Hermione muttered to no one in particular as Elizabeth gave a cheery hello to Harry. Harry flushed and turned his eyes straight ahead as she winked at him.

Both Hermione and Ginny picked up the pace; Ron and Harry had to strain to keep up with them; Ginny's fingers had tightened around his hand. Their short trek through the entrance hall and down the stairs was interrupted several times by requests for autographs, which Harry was beginning to find slightly amusing. His classmates wanted his autograph. Classmates other than Colin Creevey, he silently corrected himself with a grin.

And he found himself smiling for no reason at all as a tiny first year boy told him he hoped he would be as brave as Harry someday. Harry told the tousle-haired boy that he was certain he already made a fine addition to Gryffindor House, to which the boy pinked to the tips of his ears. Harry chuckled as Hermione continued to lead the way.

The air was still cold out on the grounds, though Harry didn't really feel it as Hermione marched them across the grass. Other students were out as well and the little groups waved merrily as Harry and his friends passed. Harry returned their greetings cheerfully and didn't even mind when a group of seventh year Ravenclaws stopped them to ask him about what had happened. Harry told them, amazed at how easy it was to talk about it. He wasn't bothered at all.

"Harry," Hermione finally broke in when one of the Ravenclaw girls began asking Harry about his dining preferences, "we don't have much time before dinner." The pretty Ravenclaw gave Hermione an irritated glance, which Hermione returned in kind. Ron tugged her away. With a wave to the seventh years, Harry followed with Ginny still by his side.

They chose a grassy spot by the lake. Hermione spread her robe out on the ground, after casting a Warming Charm over it. As soon as they were sitting comfortably, Harry told them all about the dinner.

"Your entire family is invited," he told Ron and Ginny. He didn't mention that his father had had to insist on it as they grinned. "Tonks and Remus will be there as well and I'm going to invite Neville. Most of the professors will be there...and students who have 'influential parents' are on the guest list," he added, mocking Scrimgeour's words.

"Mum'll be so nervous," Ginny said, still smiling.

"The twins are going to do a jig when they hear," Ron added. "Although," he mused, "you'd probably better warn them not to do anything funny."

Harry laughed at that. "Maybe I'll tell them to do something special for Scrimgeour," he returned. Ron's eyes lit up. Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet.

"Hey, Hermione, Harry was only joking," Ron protested. Hermione shook her head, but she was smiling as she brushed her palms on her legs. She walked toward the gently waving water, her feet shuffling the grains of sand along the shoreline.

"Ginny," she called as she picked up a stone from the hard ground. The lake hadn't frozen over yet and with a sharp flick of Hermione's wrist, the round stone sailed with a plop into the water, causing a shock of ripples to surge outward. Ginny, with a fleeting smile in Harry's direction, went to join her friend. Harry watched as Ginny's stone caused even more ripples to disturb the calm surface. He watched until the ripples disappeared again.

"Hermione complained the entire time you were with Scrimgeour."

Harry glanced over at his friend; he was staring at Hermione with a little frown. "What did you do?" Harry asked with concern, turning back to admire Ginny as she bent down to pick up another stone.

"It's those girls, Harry," Ron explained with a huff. Harry turned back to him; Ginny had straightened up again. "They're practically throwing themselves at you," he said pointedly. "And..." he added in a funny voice as he looked down at his trainers, "...a few of them have hinted they'd like a date...with me."

Harry, his attention completely on his friend now, asked quickly, "You said no, didn't you?"

Ron looked up swiftly, looking highly affronted by the question. "Course I did, Harry. I'm dating Hermione, remember?" Harry relaxed. But he tensed again at Ron's next words, which were delivered with blue eyes narrowed. "Just like you and my sister."

"I know Ginny's my girlfriend." Harry rolled his eyes. Ron's glare stopped him from actually smirking.

"Those girls know it as well," he reminded Harry, "and they don't care. Colin told me that Elizabeth's already been with most of the fifth years."

"Ron," Harry said with exasperation, his cheeks warming at his friend's silent insinuation, "I'm not going to sleep with her!"

Ron shook his head. "I know that, Harry. But just watch yourself with her, and any other female at Hogwarts. They're all foaming at the mouths." Harry would have chuckled, but Ron's face was too grim.

"I'll be careful."

Ron didn't say anything for a long minute as he studied Harry. Finally, his normally cheerful face turned dark. "You'd better not hurt her," he warned, his tone hardening to one Harry had never heard before. Harry was about to tell Ron to piss off, but the realization that this was not Ron giving the order, but Ginny's brother, made him pause. He met Ron's gaze squarely.

"I won't," he promised. When Ron nodded to accept the pact, Harry said seriously, "Don't hurt Hermione either. She doesn't have a brother, but I'll fill in if I need to."

Ron's sudden grin lit up his face. "Of course, I won't, you prat," he agreed. Harry grinned as well, relaxing again. The two of them turned their gazes back to the girls, who by now had their right arms wound together and they were laughing about something.

"I wasn't joking about Scrimgeour, you know."

Ron turned toward him again, with a sly grin. "Oh, I know."

Harry laughed.

--

As soon as Severus entered his classroom, he stepped into the Floo and sent himself upstairs, to another empty classroom. Grateful that the halls were not crowded with students, Severus made his way to one of the arched windows that faced toward the lake. His eyes scanned the grounds until he found his son, walking with perfectly easy steps with his friends.

He watched with vivid concentration as Harry greeted students scattered in groups along the expansive lawn. And as his son stopped to talk to a group of seventh years, all of the girls angling themselves so that they were closer to Harry as they spoke with him, Severus tensed. Harry didn't seem to notice; he was gesturing and speaking with great enthusiasm. Severus frowned as Ms. Granger finally turned from them and marched away, with Weasley in tow. Ginny and Harry followed, and it wasn't lost on Severus that Ginny seemed to be making certain that there was absolutely no space between them as they followed the other two toward the lake.

Severus didn't turn as another body came to stand at the window.

"Albus said you'd be up here."

"What does the old man want?" Severus asked irritably, tired of Albus' continual meddling. Even now, he could not grant him some measure of peace?

"I was looking for you. I thought you might like some company."

The information startled Severus, though of course it should have been no surprise. Not after these past few months. "I do not require company, Lupin," Severus informed the other man stiffly.

Remus didn't respond. He simply stared out onto the grounds. "Harry seems happy," he finally observed with a small smile. Severus nodded, though more to himself than to the man standing beside him. Harry did indeed seem much happier than he had this morning. Too happy.

"I didn't expect him to enjoy the attention so much," Remus echoed Severus' thoughts. And indeed, Severus had expected Harry to be much more reluctant to accept the adoration of his peers. But it seemed that Harry was almost eager to receive recognition for what they'd done.

"How was your meeting with the Minister?"

"Disappointing for the Minister."

Remus smiled. "Well, at least you allowed him his dinner," he said, with a chuckle.

"You and Ms. Tonks will receive an invitation. I should warn you, however, that Harry insisted the two of you sit at our table with the Minister."

"You know," Remus told him with dancing eyes, which Severus tried to ignore, "I don't think she would mind if you just called her Tonks now." Before Severus could think of a suitable retort, Remus added, "And I won't even blink if you call me Remus again."

Not missing a beat, Severus held his gaze and said, "Certainly, Remus."

And Remus did blink.

--

Harry looked up from stuffing his Transfiguration text into his bag as his father knocked on the door. "Come in." Harry smiled as Severus let himself in and arched an eyebrow at the eyesore that was Harry's school bag.

"How can you possibly find your assignments?"

Harry shrugged. "I manage." He smiled slightly at his father's look of disbelief, but Severus didn't comment further.

"How are you feeling?" Severus asked as Harry forced his bag to close. With that task complete, Harry plopped onto his bed.

"Wonderful," he said with a grin. "I hadn't given much thought to the positives of all this."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "The positives?" he queried. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I don't have to worry about anyone thinking I've gone mad," he explained. "They all want to talk to me, instead of whispering about me as I walk by." He grinned, barely noticing as his father frowned.

For the first time in all the years that he could remember, he didn't have to worry about receiving funny looks or being accused of being a freak or a liar. People were actually looking at him with awe...and with respect. A hero, Scrimgeour had called him, and though Harry knew the Minister hadn't meant it in a good way, the others who had called him by the name today, had meant it. He had done the impossible. Just like his father said. He was a sixteen years old and he had defeated the most powerful wizard of their time.

"Harry."

Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly as his father's voice cut into his thoughts. Severus sat down next to him on the bed, his back straight, his hands folded pensively in his lap. "I have no wish to dim your excitement, but I want you to realize that there may still be those who will not receive you well," he said seriously. Harry nodded solemnly, though he really didn't think there was much to worry about. Except for Death Eaters, like Bellatrix, who wouldn't be happy that he had vanquished Voldemort?

"There will be many people who will be eager to speak with you tomorrow evening," Severus continued, in that same serious voice, "and it would not be wise to allow yourself to become carried away with the attention."

"I won't," he promised, wondering why his father was worried about that, of all things. He wasn't a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. His father studied his face briefly before nodding.

"Do you feel well enough to attend class tomorrow?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Harry assured him with a small smile as he re-positioned himself so that he was on his side with his cheek propped up on his palm. He yawned as soon as he was horizontal. "A bit tired though," he admitted when his father's lip lifted.

"Undoubtedly," Severus murmured as he stood up, but Harry lifted his head up, his eyes widening the tiniest bit.

"I'm not ready to sleep quite yet," he told his father quickly. His face revealing nothing, Severus sat again. Harry rolled over so that he was on his back; he rested his hands on his stomach, one atop of the other.

Harry couldn't think of anything in particular that he wanted to talk about, but his father solved that problem after a short moment of silence. "Did you wish to discuss Christmas?" he inquired. Harry frowned a little as he tried to remember the relevance of that question but then with a wave of unease, he remembered Dumbledore's office--and Sirius.

"I was thinking about last Christmas." Harry ignored the acid churning in his stomach. Severus nodded, and Harry knew he understood what he wasn't going to say. "I can't seem to stop thinking about him," Harry finally admitted. "Even when I'm perfectly happy, and have no reason to, I do."

His father placed a hand over both of his. "I have found myself preoccupied with thoughts of your mother...and James."

Harry frowned, wishing he hadn't left his father alone all afternoon. He should have asked Remus to check in on him. Misinterpreting his frown, Severus reassured him, "It is perfectly normal, Harry. The memories will ease as the days move forward."

Harry didn't want to wait that long. It hurt too much. He propped himself up on his elbows as he suggested, "Maybe you could do what you did with my memories of Voldemort. Detach me from-"

"No."

The sharp refusal startled Harry. The heat in his father's eyes surprised him even more.

"The only reason I even considered detaching your emotions from those memories, was to give you time to recover," Severus told him, his tone much harder than it needed to be. "It is not a solution for your grief over Black."

"All right, all right," Harry muttered, his surprise having turned quickly to irritation at the wholly unnecessary lecture. "No need to get so tetchy about it," he grumbled under his breath, though he might as well have just said it aloud, as there was no way his father wouldn't have heard it.

"Mind your attitude," was all his father said though, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Sorry," Harry murmured, not really meaning it, as he flopped back onto his pillow. Severus sighed.

"We could both use some sleep, it seems," he observed quietly. When Harry didn't answer, Severus asked, "Are you ready to sleep now?"

"I guess." Harry shrugged, though in reality, his eyelids felt like they were weighted down with boulders. Severus stood.

Harry pulled his blanket up over his chest. Severus handed Harry his Dream Suppressive and watched until Harry had swallowed it. He took the vial back and nodded.

"Good night," he offered.

"Good night," Harry repeated stiffly. He blinked in surprise again, when his father's hand rested itself on his cheek. Intense black eyes were staring down at him.

"I apologize for being tetchy." The words were filled with gentle humor. Harry smiled at the mirth in his father's eyes, his sudden inexplicable grumpiness dissipating. Severus clapped his fingers lightly against Harry's cheek as he ordered, "Sleep."

Harry rolled onto his side, tugging the top of the blanket around his shoulder. "Night, Dad," he said around a second yawn.

"Good night, Harry."

--

Breakfast in the Great Hall was not much different than lunch and dinner had been the day before. Harry was interrupted so many times that he didn't have a chance to eat more than a couple of bangers. Just as Ron had predicted, most of those garnering his attention were girls. Harry thought he heard Ginny mutter, 'go away' at least once and Harry, with a wave of guilt, wished he could talk to her before class. Before he had a chance, two of Ginny's friends came over with questions about their upcoming Potions class and Ginny, with a quick kiss to Harry, was drawn away from him.

Once she left, there seemed to be little space around him anymore. Word had spread swiftly about the banquet tonight and it seemed everyone was vying for an invitation. And Harry sort of wished he could invite more of his friends. It would certainly be more fun with them, than with Scrimgeour's stuffy associates.

Go to class.

Startled at the sharp command, Harry glanced up at the Head Table. His father was giving him a muted glare. Harry nodded to let him know he'd heard, not bothering to respond as he stood up. Ron glanced up quickly. "We've got to go to class," Harry told him and Ron, his eyes shifting to Severus briefly, sighed a little. He grumbled something about having a father as a teacher, but he stood up anyway. The clustered group, however, had no intention of letting Harry get away so easily, no matter that they were all about to be late for class.

The group moved with the two boys as they made their way toward the door. Harry made a few attempts to extract himself, but their exit had brought even more admirers. When an exuberant second year pushed her way forward and asked Harry for a play by play of events, Harry gave in, laughing at the way the little girl's eyes shined up at him in wonder.

It wasn't until a squeaky-voice Flitwick told all of them to get to class, as they were disturbing his class, that Harry realized how late they actually were. The others broke up quickly at the little professor's attempt at a fierce glare and Harry and Ron moved swiftly toward McGonagall's class. Harry could just imagine her lips, pinched in disapproval, at their tardiness. He groaned. She would probably take points.

He grinned in relief as he and Ron skidded to a halt just inside the classroom. Remus was standing at the front of the room. He frowned, though he looked rather relieved as well as he paused in his lecture.

Harry gave him a smile and a languid shrug which couldn't quite be termed an apology as he and Ron slid into the only empty seats, right behind Hermione and Lavender. Hermione's spine was practically vibrating with disapproval, but at least Remus hadn't commented on their arrival. Not that he would.

They had missed enough of the lesson that Harry had a difficult time following along for the next ten minutes, especially as he hadn't done the readings; he'd been too busy last night entertaining his fans after dinner to pay attention to his assignments. Harry was certain Remus would understand that, so he didn't pay much attention and when Ron jostled him back to the present, Harry just stared at him in confusion.

"We're supposed to be practicing," Ron told him. Harry, having not heard a word of Remus' lecture, had no idea what he was supposed to be practicing.

"What are we transfiguring?" he asked back. Ron shoved his open book toward Harry, looking almost as bewildered as Harry. "What is this?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Hermione spun around. "Honestly, Harry, how do you expect to pass your N.E.W.T.s if you don't pay attention?" she asked, with a look of utmost pain on her face.

Harry frowned at her. "We don't take N.E.W.T.s until next year," he retorted.

Lavender had turned around by now as well. "Leave him alone, Hermione," she admonished. "He hasn't even had time to study, have you Harry?" she asked sweetly. Hermione pursed her lips.

Ignoring Lavender's flirting, she said to Harry, "You still need to do your work."

"Oh, Harry can't think about that right now," Hannah said from behind them. She scooted her chair forward a little, though the table was between them so it seemed altogether pointless as she leaned forward. "You're exhausted, aren't you, Harry?" she soothed. Ron rolled his eyes.

"He's not exhausted. He's not a pansy," he told her.

"Yeah," Seamus put in from across the aisle, "he's a Gryffindor. We're not weak."

"What does being a Gryffindor have to do with anything?" Justin asked indignantly. Seamus smirked at the Hufflepuff boy.

Remus cleared his throat from the front of the room, suggesting silence, but none of the students seemed to hear him, or else they simply chose to ignore him.

"Harry, you're awfully brave," Hannah was telling him, her voice full of awe and Harry felt his face heating at the admiration in her voice.

"Yeah, Harry," her constant companion, Justin, agreed, rising from his seat. "To just be able to stand there, without even flinching, with all those Death Eaters," he marveled. "But not because you're a Gryffindor," he added pointedly to a still-smirking Seamus. Harry shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big thing. Of course, he'd been a bit anxious, but he had managed it, hadn't he?

"Of course, he's brave, Justin," Ron said with pride. "He's been fighting You Know Who for years now. He's practically an expert in fighting evil. Right Harry?" Ron urged, elbowing him excitedly.

"Well," Harry hedged, "not an expert..."

"Oh, Harry," Lavender crowed as she leaned against his desk, "don't be modest. The Prophet explained everything. It was absolutely amazing what you did," she insisted, her eyes wide with her excitement and Harry felt his own excitement building again. It was amazing. Voldemort was gone and he, Harry, had helped to make that happen. He grinned at Lavender, but before he could say anything, Remus was suddenly in the middle of the aisle.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he admonished, though his tone was light. "Professor McGonagall expects us to accomplish a fair amount of work this morning. If you would take your seats please." He waited expectantly but the students didn't move away from Harry.

"Come on, Professor," Seamus said with a smile, "Who can concentrate now?"

Remus shook his head, his smile looking a little less genuine now. "I understand Seamus. However Professor McGonagall does expect me to carry on as usual-"

"We just have a few more questions for Harry," Lavender interrupted.

"Your questions will have to wait until the end of class, Lavender," Remus told her firmly. He eyed the rest of class. "Now, if everyone will please get back to work..."

And for some reason, the others, all except Hermione, were suddenly looking at Harry, their eyes telling him to ask Remus for a reprieve. Harry was beginning to wonder if he might actually be able to, when Ron said, not so quietly, "Harry...say something."

"Ron," Remus began, sounding vaguely exasperated, "Harry is-"

And not knowing what compelled him to do it, Harry was saying, "Aw, come on. Who can concentrate on anything right now?"

"You have all of lunch to talk to your friends, Harry," Remus told him, his usual mild tone sounding strained.

"We shouldn't even be having class," Harry told him.

"Yeah," Seamus put in belligerently. "We should have a holiday now that Harry's done away with You Know Who." There was the echo of fervent agreement around the classroom.

"Regardless of the fact that Voldemort is gone, we still have work to do," Remus told them sternly.

"McGonagall'll understand if we don't get everything done. Especially in this class." When Remus just stared at him, he cajoled, "Come on, don't be a spoil sport, Remus." Harry grinned at his friend, shrugging carelessly, and was taken aback when Remus frowned at him.

"It's Professor McGonagall, Harry," he corrected firmly, "and Professor when you're addressing me as well." Harry blinked at the rebuke, and then Remus was continuing in a hard tone, "And unless you'd like to find yourself in detention, stop arguing with me and get back to work."

The other students, unused to that tone from their usually easy-going professor, stared at him. Harry, still stunned at his friend's unexpected admonishment, couldn't move to comply with the order.

"You never give detentions!" Seamus objected.

"You can't give Harry a detention," Lavender was echoing and the girls around her began bobbing their heads in earnest agreement, to which, oddly enough, Remus raised a sandy eyebrow.

"Harry is not exempt from detentions, or anything else that any other student is required to do," he returned, but he was looking at Harry when he said it. Harry, his cheeks flaming now, both in anger and embarrassment, looked away. It was very quietly that Remus said to the rest of the class, "All of you, return to your practicing."

Completely deflated now, the students did as they were told. Harry stared down at his book, trying to figure out how to do the assignment, but he couldn't concentrate. He was too busy seething at Remus.

By the end of class, he hadn't managed to transfigure anything, mostly because he hadn't tried. Remus didn't even stop to comment on his lack of effort. He dismissed the class after his walk around the classroom, saying from the front of the room, "Harry, stay for a moment, please."

Ron paused, but Harry waved him on with Hermione. He stared straight ahead, his hands flaccid on the table. He didn't look up when Remus perched himself on the table in front of him.

"Harry?" he questioned, his voice soft. Harry looked up.

"Yes sir?" he returned evenly. Remus blinked at the formal address, and then he sighed deeply.

"Harry," he said, shaking his head, "you know perfectly well I was referring to how you address me in class."

Harry nodded. "I wouldn't want to slip up again, though, Professor," he explained, straining hard not to let his tone become too sarcastic. He must have failed miserably. Remus was leaning in toward him; he was still frowning.

"I know you're not used to all this attention from your peers, but you still have to go to class and do your assignments just like any other year," he said, ignoring Harry's insolence.

Harry pursed his lips together, not wanting another observation about his fame. "I'll keep that in mind, Professor," he said in mock-seriousness as he unclamped his lips. Remus stared at him for a long minute. When he didn't say anything, Harry asked politely, "May I go now, sir?"

Remus continued to gaze at him, his eyes filled with hurt and Harry felt a twinge of guilt for his attitude but he squelched it. Remus had no right to embarrass him like that. Not in front of everyone.

Remus slumped back a little against the table. "Fine, Harry," he said, sounding suddenly very tired. "I'll walk you to the Great Hall."

Harry slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed his professor out into the corridor.