Echoes from the Past

*Zera, wake up,* Harry hissed as he lifted the sweater off his familiar.

*Are we going out?* Zera inquired sleepily.

*No,* Harry replied. *But my aunt left the house today with Dudley so I was able to retrieve my bag.*

*Ssso you have the food for me?*

*Yes,* Harry confirmed as he got the bag out of the closet, sending another silent thanks to Fred and George.

The day after his forbidden trip, Harry had managed to smuggle the little snake outside so that she could hunt. Since then, though, he'd been stuck more or less inside as his aunt wanted the whole house cleaned so that they could invite friends over to celebrate the new deal Grunnings had brokered. Personally he thought it was more to show off Vernon's new salary, but he'd kept his mouth shut. Regardless of the motive, it meant that he'd had to scrub every tile and window despite the fact that they'd already been cleaned once in the past month. He sometimes had to wonder if the neighbours or guests ever found it abnormal that the Dursleys' house was so clean. Most people didn't have their own private House Elf to keep it this way. Pity Mrs. Figg hadn't commented on that while she'd been at it at the start of the summer.

*What do you want to start with? The salamanders or the mice?*

*Mice, pleassse,* Zera hissed as she slithered over to where Harry sat and looked at what he'd gotten out of the bag.

*Very well,* Harry said as he carefully put the other boxes away. *Let's see now, what did he say to do again?*

*What?*

*The store owner, he said something about this nutrient supplement. Ah, yes, I need to dip the mouse into it.*

*Why?* Zera inquired as she tasted the air when Harry had opened the jar. *Sssmellsss good.*

*You think so?* Harry's nose wrinkled in distaste. *It's to give you all you need to grow.* He opened the box containing the mice and pulled out the jar within. *I'll pull one out, dip it and then let it loose, all right?*

*Yesss,* Zera stated, her tongue darting in and out in anticipation. *They're sssmall.*

*Just watch,* Harry said as he grabbed a tail and pulled the mouse out.

The moment the head of the mouse was out of the jar, the animal enlarged and came alive as if released from a Petrificus Totalus. Harry brought it up to eye level so that he could observe it for a moment. It was slightly larger than the mice they'd used in Transfiguration and was a spotted brown mass instead of fur covered, but otherwise it looked real enough. The way his familiar was regarding it also told him that the animation spell making it squirm and twist was also accurate.

Not wanting to tease Zera, Harry quickly dipped the mouse into the supplement before putting it on the ground. As it scampered off, he was thankful to note that the honey-like substance stuck to the animal and didn't drip to the floor or leave tiny prints behind.

As he closed the jar, Harry watched Zera approach her prey, curious despite himself. It wasn't as if he was going to watch her kill a live animal, it was just food animated to mimic the behaviour of a real mouse. It really was a brilliant idea on somebody's part to have created these prey animals. He was glad though that they didn't seem to make any noise as he didn't want to draw his uncle's attention back to his room.

As Harry leaned back against the bed, Zera stopped a short distance from the mouse, which had stopped running. The mouse seemed to be calmly examining its surroundings, completely unaware of the red, white and black snake hunting it. Zera observed it for a few seconds before she darted forwards, lightening-quick. The mouse must have been moving just as she struck, though, as she missed and it darted off across the room.

*A little slow?* Harry teased as he watched the little snake shake her head before slowly moving after her prey.

*I'd like to sssee you try,* Zera retorted as she lazily moved along.

*Oh, I'm fine where I am.*

When she was a short distance from the mouse, Zera slowed even more and stopped, letting the agitated creature calm. Harry watched carefully as the mouse started to explore once more and was surprised when it actually approached Zera. Then his eyebrows shot up as his familiar stayed still as stone while the prey animal actually put its front paws on her. She remained motionless as the animal explored around her before moving off again. It wasn't until the mouse was a little bit away from her that she struck again, this time with perfect precision.

Before Harry could blink, Zera's body was tightly wrapped around the struggling animal so that she could release her hold on it with her mouth. She then twisted her body so that her head was near the mouse's head. He could only watch in rapt fascination as his familiar's mouth opened wider than he'd thought possible and started to swallow the animal whole as soon as it had stopped struggling. He could only assume that she'd 'strangled' it as the information Hagrid had sent said she was a constrictor. He watched for a little longer as a mouse shaped lump formed along the length of Zera's body before he turned his attention back to his bag.

Although Harry wanted nothing more than to place the items he'd gotten around his room, that just wasn't possible. Neither could he keep too many of them hidden or it would look suspicious when his uncle finally took the padlock off the cupboard to let him pack. Therefore the bag needed to be returned downstairs looking as full as it did now. Though, now that he thought about it, he could probably just replace the missing bulk with textbooks from his trunk and Uncle Vernon would never be the wiser.

With a content smile, Harry began to unpack all that he'd gotten in the vault and Mystic Alley. Some of the items he'd be able to hide under the loose floorboard while the rest could be placed into the box Mrs. Weasley had send his food in while the two remaining quiches and the last pie could go into the wonderful bag he'd gotten at Chez Louis along with the rest of his food. That way no one would see anything abnormal if they decided to come in. Not that his family ever really ventured into the room while he was here.

Harry had just gotten everything out of the bag when he was interrupted by a tapping on the window. Looking up, he saw a large brown owl outside with a roll of parchment attached to its leg. Quickly he got to his feet and opened the window knowing there'd be hell to pay if any of the neighbours saw. The owl swooped in and stood on the desk, its leg held out.

*Harry,* Zera hissed from inside the closet she'd gone to hide in. *Keep it away from me.*

*Don't worry, the mail owls know not to eat wizard pets,* Harry reassured her as he removed the parchment. "Please stay while I see if I need to send a reply," he continued in English to the owl.

The moment he unrolled the scroll and saw the handwriting, he knew it was from Dumbledore. He had a brief flash of panic; did the headmaster know he'd left the protection of the wards? Was there some spell around the house that alerted him if he left? But that couldn't be, why would the old professor have waited so long to contact him if that were the case? Taking a deep breath, Harry forced his panic aside and started to read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

---------------

Dear Mr. Potter,

As I mentioned in my previous letter, a Ministry car shall pick you up at your home on the first of September. The car shall arrive at eight, so please be ready to leave at that hour. Mr. Weasley shall then escort you to King's Cross and ensure that you reach the train safely.

Your textbooks and other supplies have already been obtained and have been placed in your room in the Tower for when you arrive. Enjoy the last week of vacation and I shall see you on the first.

Albus Dumbledore,
Headmaster of Hogwarts

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Harry sighed in relief that there was nothing in the letter about his little excursion. Pulling a piece of parchment, an ink well and a quill from their hiding places, he sat down to write his reply.

Professor Dumbledore,

Thank you for arranging my ride and getting what I'll need for the school year.

I was wondering if I could talk with you when I return to school? I have something you should see, but don't worry it isn't urgent.

There is also one other thing, I have been growing lately and my school robes are now too short. Is it possible for me to get new ones somehow?

Thanks.

Harry looked at the letter, frowning. It wasn't exactly of a normal length but he didn't really have anything else to say at the present. Unable to think of anything to add, he signed it and rolled up the parchment as soon as the ink was dry.

"Please get this to Professor Dumbledore," Harry told the owl as he tied it to her leg.

With a soft hoot, the owl took off and Harry closed his window.

*Isss it gone?* Zera inquired.

*Yes. You do remember me telling you that I have an owl too, right? And Hedwig will be around at school.*

*Yesss, but ssshe'sss yoursss and will thusss be lessssss inclined to eat me.*

*I didn't even know owls ate snakes,* Harry admitted.

*If they can catch one, mossst will, though it isss more dangerousss than their usssual prey.*

*I see,* Harry said as he got out the textbook he'd gotten out of the cupboard.

In order to do his homework, Harry systematically had to pick the lock to get the books he'd need for each assignment. He'd actually managed to do all of his homework already due to the visions and nightmares he'd had since the Third Task as he was unable to sleep easily afterwards, which left him with hours of free time. His potions essay had been done early in the summer for once after he'd had a vision in which he'd recognized Snape among the Death Eaters. He knew it wasn't his best work and he wanted to change that. He wanted Severus to be in as amicable a mood as possible when he approached him and he figured that showing that he wasn't a total loss at Potions was a step in the right direction.

Besides, some part of him also wanted to do it just because it was his... father's chosen field. He was no fool and had noticed the way the man had spoken about potions at the start of his first year, nor had it gone unnoticed the way he attended to the potions he occasionally made during the detentions he'd served.

Harry grabbed the scroll he'd written earlier in the vacation and unrolled it.

Essence of hemlock is found in several extremely potent, though highly unpleasant, healing drafts. Explain how this poisonous extract can be used to heal and why it is used instead of a different ingredient. Detail the use of one healing draft with essence of hemlock and when it should be used including all warnings and precautions.

No wonder he'd hardly felt like putting any effort into this the first time around with a question like that! Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled out a new piece of parchment and dipped his quill into the ink well. Quickly he copied the question over and then paused, that was the easy part. Opening his textbook, he flipped to the section on essence of hemlock and reread it. As had happened the last time, he was utterly confused by the passage. He got that the hemlock had to be boiled for a half hour in a cauldron with water and toad's blood to extract its juices into solution. What he didn't understand was why it had to be toad's blood. The author vaguely mentioned something about magical properties aligning in such a way so as to extract the juices but he didn't give a reason why.

With a groan, Harry let his head fall back against the frame of his bed. He wanted to do this well but how could he without a book that explained the material so that he could understand it?

Harry's eyes flew open as a new thought came to him. Severus' book! The textbook he wrote explained things well. Sitting up, he grabbed the book from where he'd placed it and opened it to its index. Would it have any information on the topic? Since Severus wrote the book and deemed the topic important enough to cover in class, he assumed so. Scanning the index, he saw that the book was divided into several different parts. The first was on proper technique and an explanation on how to perform each of the different preparation methods. As he glanced over the list, Harry saw that blood extraction was listed, he could look at that at least if there was nothing else. There was also a chapter on distillation which his other textbook also mentioned in the process.

The second part of the book was devoted to potions ingredients. Harry smiled in relief as he saw that there was a whole chapter on hemlock and it had a section on 'essence of.' As soon as he got to the section he pulled his old essay to him and turned it over to take notes on.

Essence of hemlock is a very powerful and concentrated form of hemlock that can be used in several different classes of potions. It is also one of the more difficult essences to extract. Since hemlock is a poisonous substance, its essence cannot be extracted with the use of any ingredients that are inherently Light as they would contaminate its magical properties and render it useless. This makes the process of extraction a highly debated topic as many of the ingredients that can extract it without irrevocably altering its magical properties are forbidden or controlled ingredients or leave contamination traces behind that make the essence useless for healing drafts, its main legal use. It wasn't until Lady Seraphina Snape's groundbreaking research in 1698 that the safe and non-contaminating toad's blood was discovered to be the perfect extractor.

Harry blinked as he reread the line. Lady Seraphina Snape? Was she an ancestor of his? If so, did potions mastery ran through the Snape line or was it just her and Severus? He filed away the question for later.

*What are you doing?* Zera inquired as she slithered towards him and climbed along his arm to his neck.

*Redoing my potions essay.*

*Isss the book any good?*

*This one is, its a big help,* Harry replied as she wrapped herself in loose coils around his neck, hissing in contentment at his body heat. *I'll be able to do a much better essay now.*

*That'sss good,* was the soft reply as Zera began drifting off.

With a snort of amusement, Harry turned his attention back to the book.

Lady Snape recognized that, while not normally a Dark Creature, the toad's ability to hatch a basilisk from a chicken's egg hinted at an ability to support the Darker magics without being adversely affected by them in the process. It was then discovered that the toad's blood also doesn't contaminate the essence of hemlock while the two are mixed. A simple distillation is all that is needed to separate the essence from the blood and water. If done properly, pure essence is attained which can then be used as a poison, in certain potent healing drafts and in various Dark potions.

Why couldn't the author of his assigned textbook have said it like that? It made sense this way, though Harry had chills at the reminder of his second year and the events from the Chamber of Secrets. He had part of his answer now, though, and it was a part that he hadn't had before.

When he'd taken all the notes he needed to, Harry went back to the index and looked at the third part of the book, which was devoted to potions, drafts, brews and elixirs. The part was divided into different categories and under the category on healing were some of the drafts he recognized from the other book as ones containing essence of hemlock. Flipping to the section, he checked the ingredients of each healing draft. If at all possible, he wanted to use one that wasn't mentioned in his regular book. It would make his essay different from everyone else's and prove to Severus that he'd put extra effort into his homework.

About seven potions into the healing category, he came across a draft made with essence of hemlock that he didn't recognize. Pulling his regular text close to double check, he didn't find it listed in the index. With a smile, Harry started reading.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Voldemort demanded, his red eyes boring into a bowed Death Eater before him.

"Yes, my Master," the cloaked and masked man assured. "They are writing it off as separate attacks or random violence by individuals unaffiliated with you or leaderless remnants of your former followers."

"Excellent," the Dark Lord proclaimed with a dismissive hand, sending the servant scampering backwards into the circle of his companions surrounding the seated wizard. "Severus," came the hissed command.

"My Lord," a smooth voice stated as a tall masked man stepped forward before falling to his knees.

"What news from Hogwarts?"

"Nothing new, my Lord. Dumbledore continues to try to convince Fudge of your return with no success."

"And what of his Order?" Voldemort demanded, frowning.

"Dumbledore is extremely secretive, my Lord," the kneeling figure declared cautiously. "He doesn't wish the Ministry to know that he is taking any action considering their position on the matter."

"You are his potions professor, not some Ministry stooge," the Dark Lord hissed angrily, his voice dropping dangerously.

"He is exceedingly careful this time," Snape hastened to add. "After Pettigrew's betrayal last time around he is loath to trust anyone as readily as he did in the past."

"Then you shall have to convince him to trust you," Voldemort declared. "Next time I expect better. Crucio!"

Harry woke with a cry of pain begging to burst from his lips. He managed to hold it until he had shoved his head into his pillow to sufficiently muffle the sound. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and ached to boot. That was his father being tortured! Being punished for protecting the resistance until Voldemort could be defeated. And, if the general populace of the Wizarding World could be believed, that meant until he, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, could defeat Voldemort!

Pain rippled through his forehead from his scar even as he tried to process that thought. Although it was true that he had faced the Dark Lord three times since their original confrontation and he had defeated him twice, he'd never actually faced him at full power and won. His first victory was against a spirit occupying a stolen body and his second against a memory of a teenage version of the man. The only time he'd faced the real thing he'd had to rely on the aid of shades of Voldemort's old victims. He also doubted that the reptilian-like man had even had control of his full powers so shortly after his rebirth.

How was he to do anything against a wizard so much older and more experienced than him?

How was he to defeat him?

Harry couldn't come up with an answer as he lay there, gritting his teeth against the pain. Visions of his father twitching and falling to the ground as the Unforgivable hit him swam before his mind's eye. How long would he be tortured for his failing? How long could Severus hope to keep his cover while not passing on any critical information? How long did Dumbledore think he could get away with it? He sincerely hoped that the Headmaster would suddenly 'pretend' to trust Severus so that his father could begin to pass on some information or else he doubted that Voldemort would restrict his punishment to just the Cruciatus.

Just the Cruciatus.

Harry choked on his own wording. It was the worst pain curse in existence, so bad it was punishable by a lifetime sentence in Azkaban and yet he thought so little of it! It took a few seconds before he realized why he'd phrased it that way. As long as Voldemort saw it as a temporary failure with chance of success later on, he'd use the Cruciatus on Severus but not long enough to cause any permanent damage. And he wouldn't kill him.

The thought of losing his father after only just finding him, tore at Harry and completely overpowered the physical pain that lingered at his scar. Instantly a vision of what had happened after the Triwizard Tournament rose to the top of his mind, only instead of seeing Cedric's body staring unseeingly into the distance, it was his father's lifeless body he saw.

*Harry?* Zera inquired as she slithered towards his bed and up onto it. *What'sss wrong? Did you have another nightmare?*

*No, a vision.*

*Did sssomeone die?* the little snake inquired as she made her way up his side and onto his stomach so she could look at his face as he pushed the pillow away.

*No, it just made me think of something I'd rather not discuss just now.*

*Perhapsss your writing will help.*

*Maybe,* Harry agreed as he picked up his newest familiar and walked over to the desk.

Yesterday he'd smuggled almost all of his belongings back down to the cupboard and arranged them in his trunk while his aunt had taken Dudley shopping. The only things he'd left in his room were the Vision Journal, Severus' potions book and the vampire book he'd gotten from Hermione. He'd easily be able to get them into the shopping bag he'd gotten at Chez Louis so there wouldn't be any trouble getting them downstairs unseen.

The newest entry to the journal was quickly added as the vision itself had been incredibly short. Harry also managed to keep it clinical so that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to sense that anything was going on and he knew undue concern for Professor Snape would cause the old man to wonder at his sudden change of opinion. He did take special care, however, to make mention of Voldemort's rage and intolerance at Severus' lack of information. That way Dumbledore would know just how precarious his spy's position was. If Severus hadn't done so already.

Since he knew he'd be seeing the image of his father's corpse again if he went to sleep now, Harry put the Vision Journal into the bag before settling himself back on his bed with Hermione's birthday present. As expected, he found the material fascinating and he was quite pleased to discover that, as was the case with werewolves, vampires had a worse reputation within the Wizarding World (not to mention the Muggle one!) than they truly deserved. Many of them actually had what the author termed as sanguis dators•, people who voluntarily allowed the vampire to feed from them.

As he reached the end of the chapter, Harry folded the corner of the page and closed the book. He absently stroked Zera's head as he thought about this. Why would someone let a vampire drink their blood? Well, he supposed that if a spouse or child had been turned that the other spouse or a parent would willingly let them drink their blood if it prevented them from killing, but the thought gave him chills. Still, if it allowed the vampire to live without attacking anyone he figured it was a good solution.

*Done?* Zera inquired.

*No, I just wanted to change books,* Harry explained as he picked up Severus' text. *I saw a potion in here the last time that could cure certain types of blindness and I was curious as to how that was possible. Muggle medicine definitely can't do it.*

*You wonder if it could help you, perhapsss?*

*Exactly.*

*Good luck.*

*Thanks,* Harry stated as he flipped open the book to the page he wanted.

By the time Uncle Vernon's alarm went off, Harry's hopes for the Oculus Sanaro• had completely been dashed. Apparently the elixir, which was able to grow back the optic nerve in humans if administered shortly after the damage had occurred, was not able to fix other eyesight problems. Apparently the eyes were such a delicate balance of so many factors that even wizarding knowledge wasn't able to conquer it all just yet. They only had the Oculus Sanaro• because of a lucky discovery that led Serge Felicital to realize that it was possible to create a potion to mimic a newt's ability to grow back their optic nerves if newt eyes were used.

Harry sighed in disappointment as he closed the book, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to get rid of the slight headache he had. He hadn't really given his glasses much thought since Hermione had taught him how to repair them, but they were still cumbersome at times. Especially when playing Quidditch in the rain or cold. But, he reckoned, that if the Wizarding World did know how to correct vision then Dumbledore and McGonagall wouldn't be wearing spectacles.

As he heard his uncle rise, Harry quickly put the potions and vampire books into the plastic bag. While he knew that the Dursleys wouldn't prevent him from getting ready as that would only bring Mr. Weasley into the house (something they never wanted to happen again!) they would happily do all they could to force him to rush. Therefore he had to be completely ready to leave his room as soon as it was opened.

He was returning to Hogwarts today!

The realization hit him suddenly in a way it hadn't when he'd woken up at half past three. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on one of Dudley's old trousers along with his new shirt from Ron before he took out a baggy sweater. Although he'd be way too hot, it served the duel purpose of hiding both his shirt and Zera from prying Muggle eyes in general and the Dursleys in particular. For one of the first times in years, the trousers and sweater didn't need to be rolled up in order to fit him. Indeed, if anything, the trousers were a little on the short side.

Harry grinned at the thought of what his friends would say when they saw him. He was no longer the scrawny little boy he'd been. He was still too thin as he'd gone through his stash of food even faster than he'd expected, but he had attained a respectable height for a boy his age. Also, for the first time in his life, his hair was finally starting to cooperate. It was tamer than ever before, having settled into wavy curls instead of the hopeless mess it had been. It had also gotten longer, much to his aunt's horror and dismay. Although she desperately wanted to shorten it back to a respectable length, she didn't dare cut it for fear that it would trigger a magically induced growth spurt again.

On some level, Harry found himself greatly disturbed by the changes, but only because he knew why they were occurring. The changes themselves were things he'd always hoped for, but he knew that it wouldn't end there. The thought of one day waking up and not recognizing himself in the mirror still horrified him and had frequent appearances in his nightmares. At the moment, however, there didn't seem to be any real changes to his face just yet. He thought his cheekbones might just be a little different than before, but he couldn't be sure as he'd never really paid them any attention before he received his mother's letters.

*Zera,* Harry hissed as he put on his father's snake pendant necklace and tucked it under his shirt. *Time to wake up.*

*Are we leaving already?* she inquired from her place around his neck, hissing in annoyance at the coldness of the necklace.

*Soon, but you need to be hidden before my uncle gets in here,* Harry stated as he tucked the small bag with the books between his trousers and his shirt. *Come on,* he continued as he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and brought his arm to his neck.

*How can your ssskin ssstill fit after all of your growth?* Zera demanded as she slithered onto his arm.

*My skin?* Harry demanded in surprise. *I already told you that humans don't shed their skin.*

*I mean your sssecond ssskin. The one you change every day.*

*Oh, you mean my second skin,* Harry said before he blinked in surprise.

*That'sss what I sssaid,* Zera replied as she settled in on his upper arm.

*No, that's not what I meant to say,* Harry explained. *I meant to use another word but 'second skin' came out instead.*

*Like with the double people?*

*Exactly. This is weird, but you've got a point,* Harry conceded as he looked at the sleeve of his new shirt. It fit him perfectly, just as it had before he'd grown. *It must be charmed to fit the wearer.*

*Ah,* Zera replied absently as she eyed the little golden snitch that had zoomed into view.

With a snort, Harry rolled his sweater sleeve down. Apparently his familiar had already spent several nights in the closet determined to touch the thing; all to no avail. Quickly checking to make sure that he had not forgotten anything, he tucked his wand into his trousers and waited for his uncle to come let him out.

As he waited, he was suddenly hit with the realization that he was never coming back here again. One way or another, he'd have somewhere else to go by the end of the school year. He'd either be staying with his father or he'd be going to join Sirius wherever he was. His mother's letters would be his liberation from her horrid sister. The thought sent a thrill through him and he quickly checked the space beneath the loose floorboards again to make sure that he wasn't leaving anything behind.

He'd have a real home with someone who wanted him!

Harry forced the silly grin from his face the instant he heard the first bolt being eased open. It wouldn't do to let his uncle see his happiness. When the door finally opened, however, it was Aunt Petunia who stood on the other side instead of his Uncle Vernon.

"You're ready, good," she stated as she eyed him and the room. "Get breakfast ready."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied, hurrying into the bathroom as she moved to her son's room.

Harry was able to quickly use the loo and wash his face before his cousin lumbered into the room.

"Out of my way, freak," Dudley muttered sleepily as he knocked into Harry.

"Watch it," Harry shot back.

"Just you wait until next summer," the fat boy threatened. "Piers and I will really bring back witch burning then if you're not careful. We've already planned how a proper Harry Burning will go."

Though Harry was able to keep his face expressionless, he felt a chill run down his spine at those words. Yesterday Piers had come over while he was weeding the garden and Dudley had somehow managed to convince his friend that they should treat Harry the way 'undesirables' had been treated in the Middle Ages. He hadn't actually used the words 'witch' or 'wizard' but his meaning had been clear enough to Harry.

With a considerable effort and the sudden shifting of Zera as she sensed his anger, Harry bit back a response and turned around and headed downstairs to the kitchen. It was very probably the last day he'd have to see his cousin and he'd never have to put up with Piers again. The thought served to sooth him enough to not stomp down the stairs, though his anger remained.

As he stood waiting for the eggs and bacon to cook, Harry muttered angrily under his breath and absently figured the vial and small plastic bag he'd slipped into his trouser pocket the night before. Together they contained four of Fred and George's latest products and he'd been debating whether or not to use them on his cousin. Zera clearly thought he should and had been urging him to do so for some time now, though she'd prefer if he used one of the more drastic ones. He'd been hesitant though. While he'd love to feed them to Dudley and he'd rather be punished for something he actually did than some made up transgression, he was worried about the fallout. There was no telling what his uncle would do if he had such blatant evidence of purposeful magic use. He hadn't wanted to push the man too far, especially since he'd still reaped the fallout of the twins' prank last summer.

But now...

Now there could be no repercussions. Mr. Weasley was set to arrive in just over half an hour and he'd never be coming back here again. So he could do what he wanted. A wicked grin broke out on his face at the thought. Given the fact that his uncle had hit him earlier this summer, he still didn't want to do anything immediate, but something a little slower acting however...

It was a very Slytherin perspective, he knew, but he thought it was something Severus might approve of.

With a quick glance at the door to make sure no one else was down yet, Harry pulled out the vial and poured its contents into Dudley's cup. Although he'd originally intended to give it to his uncle, Dudley's words upstairs had made him change his mind. Harry then pulled out the plastic bag and spilled its contents onto the counter. The first item was a brightly wrapped piece of candy that looked similar to one of the candies his cousin liked. Picking it up, he walked to the storage cupboard and made a small hole in the packaging of the candy bag and shoved the prank one in. His aunt was used to her son sneaking sweets and wouldn't think twice about the tampering if she saw it. As for Dudley... he was always too busy stuffing himself to notice that one of the wrappers was somewhat different from the others.

The second item came in a duller wrapping but was about the right shape of his aunt's gum sticks. Not that she'd ever admit to anyone that she had such a vulgar habit, but he'd seen her chewing it inside on several occasions. During his cleaning of the kitchen he'd even found where she hid it from Dudley who'd no doubt go through the whole pack in a day. It was hidden in the flour pot, a fact that made it more likely that she wouldn't notice the prank gum as its wrapping would be made white anyway.

The last item in the bag was a bluish powder contained in a small bag. Like the others, the effects of this one weren't blatantly obvious as magical (he didn't want to get slapped with an exposing Muggles to magic change!) but it was one that if the effects starting while the Dursleys were at home, they wouldn't leave the house. And he wanted them to. Stepping back to the stove to turn the bacon and to make sure the egg white didn't get stuck to the sides of the pan, Harry thought. Where could he put it so that it would take effect when the Dursleys were out?

Dudley was the easy one as he occasionally took a lunch with him when he and his friends went out. Harry knew that there was at least one more such outing planned as the school year didn't start until late September at Smeltings. It was rare that Vernon took lunch with him as he preferred to eat at the restaurant across the street from Grunnings but he did do so on occasion.

That was it!

Harry suddenly straightened as the answer came to him. Whenever Uncle Vernon took lunch with him, Aunt Petunia would make him sandwiches and give him coffee in a thermos. Dudley, too, always used a thermos when he packed his lunch even if the drink wasn't hot as none of the juice boxes were big enough to satisfy his thirst. The thermoses were always washed after use and he'd seen Aunt Petunia prepare them enough to know that she didn't look inside them when she filled them. If he put some of the powder in each one, he'd be sure to get Dudley and Uncle Vernon while they were out. Better yet, Vernon would probably be in the middle of a conference when it started to affect him!

Quickly, Harry turned to the cupboard with the two thermoses and took them out. He then opened the little bag and put some of the powder in each one. He frowned at what was left in the bag before a new thought occurred to him. Putting the two thermoses away, he opened the freezer and dusted the remaining powder onto the ice cubes, knowing that it would stick to them. His task complete, Harry disposed of the evidence and turned his attention back to his family's breakfast just as he heard movement on the stairs.

As Harry'd expected due to the lack of noise and tremors, Aunt Petunia soon stepped into the kitchen though Uncle Vernon and Dudley weren't far behind since the smell of breakfast had escaped the room and wafted upstairs.

"Take this and get your stuff together," Petunia stated as she put two slices of bread and a key on the counter as Harry put the eggs and bacon on the Dursleys' plates.

Harry's stomach rumbled as he snagged his breakfast and wolfed it down. Taking the key, he quickly left the room and opened the cupboard door, dragging his trunk out into the hallway so that he could open it. He hastily pulled the bag he'd kept in his shirt and placed it between some of his school robes before emptying the bag he'd taken to Mystic Alley and adding its contents to the trunk. He'd only just finished when the doorbell rang.

For once there was a complete lack of reaction to the sound on the part of the Dursleys. If this was how they wanted to play it then that was more than fine for Harry.

"Hello Mr. Weasley," Harry said as he opened the door.

"Hello Ha..." Mr. Weasley began before he trailed off as he caught sight of the boy, blinking in surprise. "Well now, you've definitely grown."

"Yes," was all Harry thought to say as he looked past his best friend's father and saw two black Mercedes cars parked on the curb of number 4 Privet Drive.

"Is that all of your stuff?" Mr. Weasley asked as he got over his shock and indicated the trunk.

"There's also my broom, but it's just in the closet," Harry replied. "I gave Ron all of Hedwig's things."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley said as he stepped inside and drew his wand.

A quick incantation later and Harry's trunk had shrunk small enough so that he could pocket it. He did so and grabbed his Firebolt from the cupboard before closing it.

"Don't you need to say goodbye to your family?" Mr. Weasley inquired as Harry stepped back to the door.

"Uh, we already did so."

"Okay," Mr. Weasley frowned as he glanced around but then brightened as he stepped outside. "We'd best be going if we want to be on time."

Harry closed the front door and followed the older wizard without a backward glance. He was surprised when Mr. Weasley got into the backseat of the second car and slid in deeper, but then he saw that they had a driver as he got in himself.

"Here, let me," Mr. Weasley said as he drew his wand again and shrunk Harry's broom as well. "Now, did you have a good summer?"

"It was okay," Harry lied. "A little boring as I couldn't go beyond the gardens."

"An unfortunate necessity," Mr. Weasley said as he waved his wand again and a divider rose up to separate the back of the car from the front, ensuring that the driver couldn't hear them. "Harry, do you get the Daily Prophet?"

"No."

"Well, in that case, you may not be aware of this, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been quite busy the past few months."

"I know," Harry said and then continued at the man's surprised look. "When I'm asleep I sometimes see what he does."

"You do?" Mr. Weasley exclaimed in horrified shock.

"It's the scar."

"Does Albus know of this?"

"Yes," Harry assured.

"Okay, well, then you know why it was so important that you remain where you are safe."

"What has the Ministry been doing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?!" Harry exclaimed, outraged.

"Well, not quite nothing- the incidents have been investigated- but the Ministry insists that they are unrelated events," Mr. Weasley explained.

"What? How?" Harry sputtered.

"You-Know-Who has been very careful so far. You see, its quite strange, at none of the attacks has He or any of His Death Eaters cast the Dark Mark into the sky. Now, since that has always been his calling card, a lot of people think that its very absence is proof that the crimes weren't committed by Him or on His orders. The fact that there have been no survivors who remember seeing the Death Eaters hasn't helped either."

"Voldemort's biding his time."

"Yes," Mr. Weasley agreed, wincing at Harry's use of the Dark Lord's name. "Albus and Alastor think that he's rebuilding his support network and Severus' information agrees with this."

"So Dumbledore and I are still seen as spouting lies?"

"Unfortunately that is what the Prophet claims."

"Great," Harry muttered as he slumped back in his seat.

"Ignore them," Mr. Weasley suggested paternally. "Sooner or later You-Know-Who will start to have the Dark Mark raised again and then people will see the truth."

"But by then it'll already be too late for many people."

"It will catch many people by surprise," Mr. Weasley agreed. "But not everyone."

"Not Dumbledore's Order?" Harry asked.

"How do you know about that?"

"Uh... the Headmaster asked Sirius to start contacting everyone in my presence," Harry quickly answered, mentally scrambling to see if the man really had used the word 'Order' or if he'd heard that elsewhere.

"No, the members of the Order of the Phoenix are among those who won't be taken by surprise," Mr. Weasley confirmed. "Albus has had us all warned and doing what we can to thwart He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's efforts."

"That's good," Harry said as he filed away the complete name of the Order even as he realized that Dumbledore had not, in fact, used the word Order last June. He'd said old crowd which meant that 'Order' had come from somewhere else, one of his mother's memories if he was right.

Inwardly Harry cursed himself for the slip. Luckily Mr. Weasley hadn't been present in the infirmary and he'd been able to cover his tracks but the same tactic wouldn't work on the Headmaster. Nor on Severus. He'd really have to watch his mouth around those two and everyone in general just to be safe. He didn't want to have to start lying to people as he hated doing that in general, but he was also too likely to get caught up in them and Hermione would realize if he had too many inconsistencies in his story.

* * *

"Well, we're almost there," Mr. Weasley announced as soon as he started to recognize the buildings they passed.

"Will Ron already be at the station?" Harry asked as he straightened from the position he'd slumped into.

"I hope so," Mr. Weasley replied uncertainly.

"Something wrong?"

"You've been at the Burrow on the first of September, you know how hectic it can get. Let's just say that the house was still in chaos when I left and that was with Fred and George still in bed."

"Ouch," Harry replied sympathetically.

Although he loved the Weasleys and loved staying with them, Harry didn't care to repeat that particular day again. After the order and quiet of the Dursley household those particular days had been quite a shock for him. It had always worked out well, though, and he hoped that it did again today.

"Now, Harry, we'll want to be careful when we get out," Mr. Weasley suddenly stated as the car pulled around the block to where it could temporarily stand to unload passengers. "Though it is unlikely that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will try anything in so public a place just yet, he knows that you'll be here today."

"I'll watch out," Harry promised, suddenly nervous.

He'd been so preoccupied with his newly revealed heritage that Voldemort's obsession with him had temporarily been pushed to the back of his mind.

"Good boy," Mr. Weasley stated as he opened the door and got out.

As Harry followed him, he couldn't help but quickly scan the area, half expecting Death Eaters to jump out into view, wands at the ready. He relaxed slightly when he didn't catch sight of any, though he did notice a large dark-skinned man striding straight towards them.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry said, tapping him and indicating the approaching stranger whose bearing clearly indicated the ability to jump into action at any moment.

"Ah, Kingsley, I was hoping you'd be able to meet us," Mr. Weasley declared as he followed Harry's finger.

"Arthur, good to see you," the tall man stated as they shook hands, his smile revealing a row of white teeth. "And you must be Harry Potter," he continued, offering his hand. "I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror."

"Pleased to meet you, Sir," Harry replied, relieved the man was on his side.

As he shook hands, Harry took the opportunity to study him closer. Shacklebolt had a shaved head and a small gold hooped earring in his left ear. He was smartly dressed in blue Muggle jeans, a light grey shirt and a dark brown leather jacket. Now that he was no longer a potential threat, the wizard also seemed kinda cool. He reminded him a little of Bill Weasley, actually.

"Let's get you to the correct platform," Kingsley said, his voice slow and deep, just as the car they'd arrived in pulled away from the curb.

"Has everything been quiet here?" Mr. Weasley asked as they turned to enter King's Cross.

"Well, I wouldn't call those Muggle contraptions they have around here quiet," Kingsley started, winking at Harry. "But nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. I have observed a very wide variety in the interpretation of Muggle clothing, though."

Harry snickered as he followed the Auror's gaze and caught sight of a family dressed in heavily printed dresses, the husband included.

"I find it amazing how poorly wizards understand Muggle fashion, it's not that difficult."

"It's a matter of exposure," Mr. Weasley declared, clearly launching into a favourite topic. "Most wizards don't see enough Muggles, or don't pay enough attention to them, to realize that only the females wear robes or skirts."

"Most wizards also don't feel comfortable wearing trousers," Kingsley added. "I'll be the first to admit that it takes some adjusting after always having worn some type of robe."

Harry frowned at this. Although he'd spent four years in the Wizarding World already, he hadn't really noticed that the men didn't wear any trousers other than Muggle ones. Not that his exposure to Wizarding clothing was all that great. At Hogwarts everyone but the teachers wore the student robes except on weekends or special occasions. It had just never caught his attention that only Muggle trousers were worn.

"I suppose that would be weird," Harry commented as the protest of an old man at the Quidditch World Cup came back to him after he'd heard a Ministry wizard try to convince him to put on a pair of trousers: "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Harry suddenly wondered why so many wizards weren't properly educated about Muggle attire. Considering the need for secrecy he'd have thought the Ministry would require every witch and wizard to learn how to blend into the Muggle world. A crash course of Muggle Studies. Even as the thought occurred to him, he suddenly had his answer. Purebloods like the Malfoys, ones that were rich, powerful and anti-Muggle, probably managed to influence the Ministry on such matters to ensure that neither they nor anyone else who held their ideals were forced to take a Muggle education course.

"I'll go through first, okay Harry?" Mr. Weasley inquired, drawing the young wizard from his thoughts.

"What?" Harry asked, looking around to see that they stood between platforms nine and ten. "Oh, sure," he quickly added, embarrassed that he'd lost track of his surroundings after having been warned to be careful.

What would Moody say?

Or, even worse, Severus?

"Good," Mr. Weasley said as he rushed at the brick wall, disappearing through it.

"I'll be right behind you so don't stop suddenly once you're through," Kingsley stated as Harry looked at him.

With a nod of his head, Harry discretely tapped his right arm to alert Zera of what was going to happen before he ran forwards. Although this wall wasn't nearly as bad as the one separating Mystic Alley from Diagon Alley, he'd promised Zera he'd give her a few seconds to prepare for it.

"Looks like they managed to make it on time after all," Mr. Weasley said once Harry and Kingsley appeared on platform nine and three-quarters alongside him.

"More than on time," Kingsley said as he looked at the redheaded group that stood next to the Hogwarts Express. "They're actually a little early. It's a full fifteen minutes before the train leaves!"

Harry glanced sideways at the Auror, unsure if he was teasing Ron's father or not. From the large smile on the tall wizard's face and the irritated look Mr. Weasley was giving him, he figured that he was. Perhaps the two were friends from work?

"Harry!" Ron suddenly shouted, having caught sight of them through the gathering crowd.

"Hey, Ron," Harry returned as he jogged over to them. "Fred, George, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley. How are you all?"

"Blimey, mate, you've grown!" Ron declared, his eyes growing wide in shock as he got a better look at his best friend.

"Yeah," George agreed. "You're taller than Ronnikins."

"Our little adopted baby brother, all grown up!" Fred exclaimed before he pretended to start crying and leaned against his twin for comfort.

"Will you two ever grow up?" Mrs. Weasley demanded as she brushed by them to reach Harry. "Merlin, dear, you have grown."

Before Harry could stop her, Mrs. Weasley had him in a tight hug. He heard Zera hiss in annoyance and alarm as she was partially trapped by the encircling arms. She instantly constricted her coils to give herself more room and avoid being crushed and Harry had to force down a wince. The moment Mrs. Weasley relaxed her grip, Zera shifted and moved higher up his arm to coil herself loosely around his neck. Luckily she had sought out his body heat and had moved under his shirt.

"Harry, how much do you weigh?" Mrs. Weasley suddenly demanded, frowning at him.

"Mum!" Ron protested as he appeared next to her, sending an apologetic look at his friend.

"He's far too thin," Mrs. Weasley replied, glaring at her youngest son before turning her critical eyes back to Harry. "And it can't be good that he needs to wear a sweater in this weather."

"I don't," Harry stated, having forgotten about the sweater. "I only wore it so the Muggles wouldn't see my shirt," he continued, pulling off the garment.

"You're wearing it!" Ron said, his face lighting up.

"Yes."

"Have you tried to touch it?" Fred inquired.

"We couldn't," George added.

"I couldn't get it either," Harry said. "I assumed that it was charmed to be untouchable."

"That's what I assumed too, but the shopkeeper refused to say if it was or if only someone with Seeker reflexes could get it," Ron explained.

"If Harry can't get it, then no one can," Ginny piped up, blushing as everyone turned to look at her.

"How are Bill and Charlie?" Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his appearance lest anyone noticed the slight bulge Zera made at his neck.

He didn't quite fancy explaining that he now had a snake as a familiar to the majority of the Weasley family at once. Ron had quite an aversion to most things Slytherin and he still didn't quite know what he thought of the fact that he was a Parselmouth, let alone a live Slytherin mascot.

Besides, talk of Zera would bring up his birthday and, most probably, lead to questions about what he'd done all summer; something he'd like to avoid as much as possible. He didn't want to lie to his friends, or anyone else for that matter, but he didn't want to tell them the truth either.

Harry had a fairly good idea of what their reactions would be and he didn't want to see or hear their disgust and pity. They probably wouldn't be able to look past the Head of House Slytherin to see his father. They wouldn't want to and he doubted that he could convince them otherwise without mentioning his mother's memories. He could already picture the outrage on Hermione's face if he admitted that he'd left Privet Drive against Dumbledore's orders.

He honestly wasn't sure what would be worse, to see disgust or pity on their faces. Considering what his own initial reaction had been to the news, he wouldn't be able to fault them for their responses, but he didn't want to have to deal with it anyway. Besides, Harry didn't feel like it was right to tell anyone the truth before he told Severus. The man had been devastated by a lie created to protect his son; he owed it to his father to let him be the first person he told the truth to. He deserved to be the next person to know.

Not only was it Severus' right to be the next person to know, but he also deserved to learn the truth directly from his son. After his trip to the vault, Harry had pondered asking the Headmaster to relay the message but he knew it wasn't right to do so. On top of that, he really did want to discover how Severus really felt about it. In order to do so, he needed to see his initial reaction to the news and not give him enough time to think about it and put on another mask.

He didn't want to be a duty; an obligation Snape felt he had to fulfil due to his mother's memory. Harry didn't think he could take living somewhere else where he wasn't wanted. Especially if he was only to discover this after he'd been living with the man for a while due to Severus' acting skills. That would be hell. Even more so now that he had somewhere else to go if needed, somewhere he was wanted. At least where he hoped that he was still wanted...

Harry shoved the thought aside violently, not even wanting to consider the possibility that Sirius' hatred for Snape might be greater than his love for him. Tracking back to his original thought instead, he knew that while he didn't want to have to lie to his friends, he wouldn't admit the truth to them either. So he'd have to be very good at evasion then to avoid having to lie.

"They're fine," Mrs. Weasley replied absently, still frowning. "If I'd known you were growing so much, I would have sent you more food. You certainly could have used it."

"That's okay," Harry reassured her, forcing his thoughts back to the conversation. "The food you sent was terrific."

"We'd better get on the train before anyone steals the compartment I got for us," Ron interjected before he glanced over at where his father was standing. "Where's your trunk, mate?"

"Oh, right," Harry said, remembering, before he dug into his pockets and pulled it out along with his miniaturized Firebolt. "Your father shrunk them for me."

"Here, allow us to assist you, good Sir," Fred offered as he and George drew their wands, each aiming it at one of his hands.

"Are you allowed to use magic here?" Harry questioned uncertainly, wondering if he was about to end up with enlarged hands due to an accidental misaim.

"Yeah, they're allowed," Ron muttered darkly, glaring at his elder brothers. "They passed enough O.W.L.s. two years ago."

"Ah," was all Harry managed before the twins cast their incantations, simultaneously, and he yelped as his trunk became full size in his hand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" George exclaimed, catching the falling trunk before it hit the ground.

"Sorry about that," Fred apologized as Mrs. Weasley glared at them from the conversation she'd been drawn into with the parents of one of Ginny's friends.

"Here you go," George said as he cast a feather-light spell on the trunk.

"But now we must go," Fred declared, walking off.

"People to see, prank and annoy," George agreed before they vanished into the crowd that had gathered on the platform.

"I don't know why they're so kind to you all of a sudden," Ron grumbled. "They've been a right nuisance all summer!"

"Did you try to sneak up into their room after all?" Harry asked knowingly.

"I was just curious!" Ron defended.

"Muggles have a saying about that you know," Harry said as he followed his best friend to the entrance of one of the carriages.

"Oh?"

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It's an expression."

"Muggles can be right strange sometimes," Ron announced a second later.

"Sometimes," Harry agreed absently as he looked around the platform and frowned, catching sight of Mr. Weasley still standing off to the side, deep in conversation with Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.