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batsutousai) wrote2018-08-28 11:42 am
FIC: Nose to the Wind ~ Harry Potter ~ Harry/Voldemort ~ Teen ~ Ch 13/27
Title: Nose to the Wind
Series: Like a Ghost in My Town
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort, James Potter/Lily Potter
Warnings: AU, violence, universe hopping/rebirth, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, underage relationship (ish)
Summary: While Harry had been content with his second chance, that didn't keep him from thinking what he could have done different, how many people could have survived if he hadn't been set on the very specific path he'd walked. Third time is the charm, though, right?
A/N: Why is it that every time I get young!Harry and Voldemort in a room together, it turns into a fucking comedy hour? >.>
For ages at the start of this chapter, Harry is 11. (Hermione is 12, Will is 10, and Chris is 7.)
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own and LiveJournal.
Chapter Thirteen – Mirrored in Your Stare
-0-
Saying good-bye to Hermione in January was hard, but Harry was soothed knowing he'd bolstered her waning self-confidence and that he'd won a promise from Ron to partner with her in the few classes they shared. Too, she had dirt on one of her professors and her headmaster, which Harry doubted she'd actually use in any way, but might change how she interacted with Barty, at least, enough to win some respect from her housemates.
Her owls, which came bi-weekly and for the whole family, sounded like there was a slow improvement as the term passed. And while Ron was hardly what she'd call a good friend, he and the twins made a concerted effort to show that she wasn't so bad, which had won her some points with both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor houses. (Personally, Harry wondered how many of those points had to do with half the school having a healthy respect for the twins, and made a note to pass them some money in a few years, should they again decide to form up a joke shop.) She'd also mentioned a certain Ravenclaw prefect who'd started checking in on her in April, and Harry suspected the twins had tried to get Percy in on their plan to help out Hermione, and he'd reacted by brushing them off, then going to Penelope Clearwater and telling her about the problem.
In June, only Harry, James, and Sirius went to pick her up, his brothers both more interested in helping Lily and Remus prepare the welcoming party they'd planned. Sirius had wanted to stay and help out, but Lily had put her foot down, and Remus had helpfully pointed out, "If Harry's going, that means it'll be a portkey or waiting an age for the floo back here, unless you go to help apparating."
"And you don't want to make me take a portkey," Harry added cheerfully.
Sirius had given in at that.
Hermione got off the train surrounded by Weasleys, glowering at Fred and George while they grinned widely in that way that meant they'd been up to no good recently.
"Oh dear," Arthur murmured, the Weasleys having opted to wait with the Potters and Sirius.
"If those boys have been picking on her–" Molly started.
Harry coughed. "That doesn't look like she's upset, just irritated."
"Yeah, that's the same expression Lily gets when she really wants James to leave the house for a couple hours so she can stop herself from cursing him," Sirius agreed cheerfully.
"I'm sorry, who does she usually aim that expression at?" James asked, turning narrowed eyes on Sirius.
Harry and Ginny looked at each other and he wiggled his eyebrows, which started her giggling.
The wave of Weasley boys and Hermione crashed into them, then. Or, well, Hermione certainly crashed into Harry, wrapping her arms around him and whispering, "Thank you," in his ear.
Harry hugged her back, grinning. "I'm sure I haven't the vaguest idea what for," he whispered back.
Hermione gave him a knowing look as she stepped back, then turned to greet Sirius and James, followed by Molly, Arthur, and Ginny, whom she'd all briefly met in December.
Once everyone had traded greetings – and Harry had passed Ron, Fred, and George sweets as thanks for their assistance in easing Hermione's second term – the Weasleys headed out to their car, while Harry grabbed Hermione's trunk with one hand, and Sirius' arm with the other, so he could apparate them, leaving James to take Hermione.
Harry had moved her trunk out of the way by the time James and Hermione arrived, so there was nothing to trip over when Will, Chris, and Sirius all bellowed, "Welcome home!" Harry, Remus, and Lily a much quieter addition.
"Oh," Hermione whispered, looking a little overwhelmed.
And then Lily and Remus stepped apart, revealing a little surprise: Hermione's parents. "Hello, Hermione," her mum offered.
Hermione burst into tears and ran forward to hug them. And Harry, grinning, turned to finish taking her trunk up to her room, figuring it would be a few minutes before they could start passing out the cake.
On the morning of Harry's birthday, Hermione surprised him when he stepped out of his room by attacking him with a hug and declaring, "It's your birthday!"
Harry laughed and hugged her back, his brothers snickering behind them. "You noticed," he agreed, amused.
"I did," Hermione agreed, her eyes bright.
Harry caught her arm with his and started for the stairs. "Should we make this a new thing? Because I can probably find a way to sneak into Hogwarts and tackle you at the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower's stairs."
"Oh, God, please don't," Hermione complained. "You might actually find a way."
"We can all do it!" Will declared.
Hermione let out a whimper that Harry was about ninety percent certain was all for show.
In the dining room, however, they all came to a halt, finding Lily and James staring in disbelief at the Prophet, which James was holding, while Lily stood behind him. "Mum? Dad?" Harry asked, while Hermione whispered, "Oh no."
Lily reached out a hand towards him, and Harry let go of Hermione to walk over to her, tilting his head to read the headline as she drew him into a hug: 'Squibs to Receive Wands!'
"Merlin," Harry breathed, turning in Lily's hold so he could actually read the article, which went on to explain that the Department of Mysteries had found a way to attach a few spells to a coreless wand, then tie that wand to a squib's inaccessible magic, allowing them to cast some few defensive and offensive spells, the number and strength depending on their magical core's size. These wands were to be offered to any squibs wishing to remain in the magical world when they were given the choice on their eleventh birthday. "He did it. He–"
The floo sounded out in the living room, and Sirius announced himself by shouting, "Have you seen the news?!"
Hermione, Will, and Chris had joined Harry in staring at the article while he'd been reading, and they all turned wide eyes on him while James shouted back an affirmation. "But you have a wand already," Hermione whispered.
And then Sirius was there, picking Harry up and giving him a spin while Harry clung to his arms. "Could you not?" Harry complained once he was on the ground again.
"Shut up, this is awesome," Sirius shot back. "It means he figured it out!"
Harry considered Sirius' gleeful expression for a moment, then offered, "It means he's probably dropping by today."
Sirius just sort of froze, while James whispered, "Shit."
Lily snorted, clearly having figured that part out already. "Right. Breakfast? And where are Remus and Peter?"
The kids let themselves be ushered into seats while the adults managed breakfast, Sirius and James whispering about whether it was wise to let Voldemort in when they had a guest.
"Voldemort," Harry offered to Hermione, who flinched and shot him a mildly betrayed look. "Sorry," Harry offered, not really meaning it. "I lied, back in December, that my benefactor was a mystery. It's Voldemort." He twitched his wrist to call out his wand while Hermione's eyes widened. "He was trying to figure out how to attach the wand to my magic when I saw him last year, and I suggested he make it available to all squibs, when he got it sorted. I guess he finally has." Actually, Harry suspected he'd sorted it out months ago, then sat on it, being grumpy about Harry's silence, before giving in and giving his findings to the Department of Mysteries. And he very much doubted that the announcement date was coincidence; more likely, Voldemort hadn't wanted to chance being turned away at the door, before he could say he'd given in.
"He is nice," Will added.
"Sometimes," Chris murmured, looking uncertainly towards Harry.
Harry snorted. "He does try, when he thinks it might be worth it to play nice, but he's not a fan of children, and he's got something of a short fuse."
"Yes," Lily agreed drily as she came over with most of their food, Sirius and James following, "a dislike of children and a short fuse. That's his entire problem."
"Simplified," Harry insisted. "Please, he'd give a therapist an aneurysm after less than five minutes."
Hermione choked and shot Harry a disbelieving look.
"You're assuming he doesn't just kill the therapist for being a muggle," Sirius pointed out.
"Or their tone of voice," James added.
"Or the way they word things," Sirius continued.
"Or the way they actually have the audacity to ask him to talk about his feelings?" Harry suggested, and Sirius and James both grinned at him.
"Oh my God," Hermione whispered, hiding her face. "We're all going to die."
Everyone let out a slightly strained laugh, while Harry rolled his eyes at the lot of them.
"I did warn him you've a guest," Peter offered when he arrived late, "but I don't think he cared."
"More likely he already knew," Lily replied with a sigh. "Thanks for trying, Peter."
Peter shrugged and nodded, then ruffled Harry's hair and handed down a gift. "Here you are, pup."
"Thanks, Uncle Wormy," Harry replied cheerfully before carefully opening the gift.
He'd put his gifts upstairs and they were settling around the dining room table when someone knocked on the front door. "I've got it!" Harry called, not bothering to give anyone time to suggest they might go instead, before he was out of his seat and running from the room.
"Bets on who it is?" James offered tightly.
"Please don't antagonise him," Remus muttered.
Harry didn't bother checking to see who it was, because he could smell Tom on the other side, so he just pulled the door open and – because he knew he could get away with it – hugged the dark lord around the stomach.
"Scythe," Tom complained, holding his arms out to the sides like he had no idea what to do with them.
"I'd tell you your mum told me to give you a hug, but I'd be lying," Harry admitted in German, grinning up at the dark lord.
"And Salazar forbid you ever lie," Tom returned with a glint of humour in his eyes. "Let go."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You are entirely too uptight," he muttered, but obediently let go. "Thank you."
Tom sneered at him. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're referring to, you stubborn, impossible–"
"Your mum seems to think you only insult people you really like," Harry informed him with a mean little smile.
Tom narrowed his eyes. "Does she, now?" he returned in a low tone that was clearly meant to have been seductive, but was out of practise.
"Don't start making offers you won't hold to," Harry suggested, and the dark lord made a disgusted noise. "Also, Mum's in the next room, and you really don't want her getting suspicious of your intent–"
"Scythe," Tom interrupted. "Either kick me out or let me in, but desist with this–" He waved a hand at Harry, as though unable to find the words necessary.
"Stop acting like I'm an adult while I look like a child?" Harry suggested, stepping back to let him in.
"Please."
"Only because you said please," Harry replied agreeably, and Tom gave him a tired look. Harry turned away to close the door, hiding his smile from the dark lord. "So, our visiting muggleborn has been let in on you being my benefactor, and that you're coming for a visit, but nothing else. Since I know you like keeping up on how much English you have to use."
"The English is but a minor concern, though I appreciate the warning." Tom snorted. "I expect I'll be forced to sit through cake again before you'll allow me to sort your wand."
Harry rolled his eyes and waited until he was almost to the doorway into the dining room before replying, in English, "Don't even start; you like Mum's cake." Then he stepped into the dining room, wearing a wide smile. "Voldemort's here, and he's got his pretty face on." Sirius and James both choked on a laugh, while Peter moaned and covered his face. Will and Chris both laughed, not even bothering to appear worried about the dark lord's response.
"I should have killed you when you were a baby," Tom muttered as he stepped up behind him.
Harry flashed him a knowing smile. "Too late, lost your chance. Cake?"
Tom sighed and pushed Harry's shoulder hard enough that he couldn't keep from swaying a bit, but didn't actually move out of the way. "Scythe."
Harry laughed and led the way over to the two spaces that had been left empty for them. As he passed her, Harry paused and gave Hermione – who had covered her face with a curtain of hair, as if it would serve as a protection against the dark lord's assumed rage – a quick hug. "You're safe," he whispered to her.
"You saying that is not reassuring," Hermione informed him, eyeing him from between strands of hair.
Harry offered her a crooked smile, then moved on to slide into his spot, Tom settling in next to him with an almost-polite nod to James, Sirius, and Remus, all of whom nodded cautiously back. Lily brought over the lit cake and Will proceeded to lead them all in an unnecessarily loud rendition of the happy birthday song.
While Lily was cutting the cake and sending slices over one at a time, Will leant forward on the table and boldly asked, "Have you been working on the wands all year?"
Harry closed his eyes a bit helplessly, while James snapped, "William Harrold!"
"Grounded," Chris whispered.
Tom stared silently at Will, face expressionless, until he'd slumped back in his chair, looking like he'd only just realised how bad an idea that question was. Only then did Tom drily comment, "I suppose one of you had to be a Gryffindor."
Will flashed him that grin he'd stolen from Sirius, and Harry was half convinced his quick recovery was due to a slice of cake landing in front of him. "Harry keeps saying he hopes I end up in Slytherin."
"No," Tom snapped, scowling at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Talk to the Hat, it's what lets firsties pick their houses because it's too lazy to do a proper sorting." He tapped his chin. "Though, be honest, it offered Ravenclaw to you."
Tom snorted. "No."
"Liar."
"Scythe, the Hat never told me I would do well in Ravenclaw."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Your wording is suspicious." Because that was the exact wording that the Hat had used on Harry in his first reality.
Tom smirked, then turned a cold gaze on Will. "In answer to your inquiry, no, I did not spend all year on the wands. I have other duties that don't revolve around your brother and his unfortunate circumstances."
'Unfortunate circumstances,' Harry saw Sirius mouthing, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
Tom's gaze landed on Hermione, and she ducked her head while he stared at her for a long moment. "No," he finally decided, "I don't expect you would have any trouble with the Potters."
"Trouble?" James asked, straightening.
Tom turned to him, one eyebrow raising. When James didn't flinch, the dark lord's mouth twitched. "Rather. Another placement didn't work out over the winter holidays."
"Kevin?" Hermione guessed, only to shrink when Tom looked at her again. "He came back before anyone else," she offered, voice barely loud enough to be heard by everyone around the table.
"Hm." Tom settled back in his seat as Lily walked back over with her own piece. He nudged Harry. "Children aren't reporting trouble over the holidays," he informed him. "Clearly, it's happening, but no one's saying anything."
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you expect me to do about it? Force them to talk to you?"
"No. You're a child. Come up with a solution."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not, actually, how the world works."
Tom snorted. "Make your mud–"
"Muggleborn," Harry corrected, shooting the dark lord a pointed look.
Tom scowled at him. "Make your muggleborn help you find a solution when I'm no longer here to terrorise her. You know how to reach me."
Harry glanced down the table towards Hermione, who was giving him a wide-eyed look, as though she wasn't sure how to react to him correcting the dark lord about what to call her. He smiled reassuringly at her, then told Tom, "I'll let you know." Then he switched to German to add, "If you can get me a list of all of the students in question and where they're placed, I can set spirits to watch them."
Tom gave a short nod. "I expected it was something like that. I can compile the information for you. Should I owl it, or..."
"Ah, best not. No, leave it out where your mum can see it and she'll let me know when to pop by and pick it up."
"Very well," Tom agreed, and they both fell quiet to eat their cake.
Once everyone was done, Harry suggested, "Back garden again?"
"It would be the best option," Tom agreed and they both got up and made their way outside.
Expectedly, Will and Chris followed close behind, Will dragging Hermione along with. Harry pointed them towards the picnic bench with a stern look while Tom activated the wards, and both of his brothers ducked their heads as they turned that way. "Not much I can do about the audience," Harry offered in apology as the dark lord walked towards him.
"I hardly expect miracles of you," Tom returned with a careless shrug. "Wand."
When Harry held it out, Tom took his wrist instead of the wand, as Harry would have expected, and drew him a couple steps closer. Harry closed his eyes. "Really?" he complained.
"Not hardly," Tom admitted, and Harry could hear the undercurrent of amusement in his voice, though he doubted anyone else would. "Consider it your payment for..." He trailed off.
Harry glanced up to find a thoughtful expression on the dark lord's face. "Everything?" he suggested tiredly.
Tom smirked at him. "Yes, that will do nicely." Then his expression cleared, his eyes focussing on the wand in Harry's hand while he drew his own wand. "You're actually quite unusual, in terms of squibs," he commented as he touched his wand to Harry's hand.
"In what way this time?" Harry enquired before wincing at a quick bite of pain, like a static shock, that sparked where Tom's wand was touching his hand.
"Your magic gathers at your hand when you're holding a wand, as though expecting it to actually work. Most squibs don't get any reaction from their magic, even when handed a wand with a proper core."
"Well, yes, I remember how to use magic, and this wand is remarkably similar to my favourite in my last life." He sighed. "I don't expect I want to ask how you found squibs to experiment with."
"They were all older volunteers, if it makes you feel any better," Tom offered quietly, and Harry looked up into eyes that hated how mistreated those unfortunate children were as much as he did. He quirked a smile at the dark lord, and Tom inclined his head a hair before letting him go and stepping back. "Cast something. Tell me if you can sense anything."
"I don't even know what I'd cast," Harry replied carelessly, glancing towards his brothers and Hermione, all of whom had perked up at the change to English. He took a few steps away from the dark lord, as though meandering would help him think. "I mean, it's not like there's anyone around I can cast a healing spell on, unless one of you lot is hiding something?" The three on the picnic table immediately shook their heads.
"No, I didn't think so," Harry continued, frowning. He let his wand droop in his hand, seeming almost by chance to point towards the dark lord. "I suppose there's always a shield spell, but that's hardly a good test. What else is there?" He glanced back towards Tom, who was giving him an irritated look. "Expelliarmus?"
And Tom's wand, which he'd relaxed his grip on, shot out of his hand and directly into Harry's. The dark lord looked honestly flummoxed for a moment before he narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Scythe," he snarled.
"To be fair," Harry insisted, holding the wand back out towards its owner, while his brothers laughed and Hermione let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan, "I didn't actually expect that to work."
Tom snapped out his hand, wandlessly summoning his wand back. "Yes, you did," he insisted.
Harry snorted. "Okay, I wanted it to work. But I didn't think–"
"That nattering on like a fool would distract me enough that I would loosen my grip on my wand?" Tom finished for him, before snapping his wand towards Harry in that motion that meant he was about to throw out a curse.
Harry threw up a shield before he'd even thought about it, and it was only because he was holding the squib wand, that the spell actually came from it. That said, it was as perfectly formed as any shield that would have come from his original holly wand, and a far cry better than the ones the squib wand had cast before it had been connected to his own magic.
A silencing charm splashed harmlessly against the shield, dissipating into nothing between them. Tom raised an eyebrow at him. "Impressive, Scythe."
"That was rude. You are rude," Harry informed him. "I can't believe you just attacked me. I am a defenceless–"
"Lies," Tom muttered.
"–squib, and you are attacking me like a mean dark lord. Which, actually–"
"I am?" Tom suggested before rapidly shooting out two more curses, far stronger.
Harry winced as the second one hammered against his shield, nearly cracking it. "Please don't–"
A third spell shot towards Harry, and he ducked out of the way only because he knew it had the wrong trajectory to hit Hermione and his brothers. He quickly broke his current shield and recast, then shot off two stunning spells at the dark lord. "My spell list is pathetic!" he complained just before three new curses slammed into his shield in quick succession, nearly shattering it. "I hate you!" he added, ducking a fourth curse.
Tom laughed, his barrage of spells ending, and Harry shot him a scowl. "It really is a pity you're a squib, Scythe," he commented.
Harry shot off an incendio, but the dark lord just brushed it aside. "I'd offer to duel you for real, but I don't think it would end well for you," he retorted in German.
Tom grimaced, making a show of slipping his wand away. "I expect you're correct," he admitted. "I haven't the faintest how my shields would stand up against one of your spells."
Harry took a moment to consider that, then snickered and slipped his own wand away. "Yeah, not so much."
"Are you done attempting to curse my son?" Lily snapped from the doorway into the house, her eyes practically spitting fire. James and Sirius were standing just behind her shoulders, looking every inch a dark wizard's worst nightmare.
Tom's mouth twitched. "As always," he offered, his eyes glinting with amusement, "it's a pleasure to share your acquaintance, Mrs Potter."
"Get off my property," Lily returned, unbending.
Harry stepped up and patted the dark lord's arm. "Best you go before she figures out a way to ground you."
Tom snorted. "I'll see you when the list is prepared," he replied, and Harry nodded and took a step back, giving him room to apparate away.
Once he was gone, Lily let out a slightly shaky laugh and leant back against James, who caught her with a relieved expression. "I can't believe that worked," she breathed.
"Makes two of us," Sirius muttered.
"Your mum is scary amazing," Hermione whispered as she, Will, and Chris joined Harry. "Also, I can't believe you duelled the dark lord."
"It was awesome!" Will declared.
"You're grounded for a week, Harry!" Lily called, having recovered from her minor collapse.
"Aw, but, Mum!" Will tried.
"I will ground you, too," Lily threatened.
Harry touched his brother's shoulder and shook his head when Will looked back at him. "Let it be," he suggested before walking towards the three adults. "Sorry, Mum," he offered, honestly regretting freaking her out.
Lily yanked him into a hug. "My heart cannot take your friendship with him," she complained before pushing him away far enough that she could pin him with a glare. "Do not duel Voldemort again."
"I'll make a concerted effort, but I reserve the right to curse him back if he starts it," Harry replied.
Lily closed her eyes and pulled him into another hug. "Of course you will," she complained.
"How would one go about getting other muggleborns to say they're having trouble with their host families?" Hermione asked the next afternoon, opting to stay indoors with Harry, while his brothers went outside to play with the Weasleys.
Harry frowned and glanced to the side. "I haven't the faintest," he admitted, because he couldn't begin to guess. Normally, he'd say have the students looked over when they got back after the holidays, check for physical signs of abuse, but magic negated that option, and it was hardly comprehensive, as not all abuse was going to leave a mark.
"I suppose you could watch for changes in behaviour," Hermione offered, "or ask their friends."
"Not all abused children tell their friends what's going on," Harry murmured, because he'd never let on how crap it was at the Dursleys, though he expected a lot was obvious.
He straightened. "Friends," he realised. "You might not tell your friends, but that doesn't mean they won't notice. Tell all the students to report any sudden changes in a friend's behaviour, especially if it follows after a holiday, then make a point of following up on those reports. Make it about all the students, not just the muggleborns, and people might be more willing to come forward."
"Or, at least, the muggleborns won't feel like they're being targeted," Hermione agreed, her eyes bright.
They grinned at each other for a long moment before Hermione suddenly slumped, something obviously occurring to her. "What?" Harry asked.
Hermione folded her fingers together. "Would they tell an adult? Even when pressed?"
Harry looked away, reminded of how he'd not told his parents about Mrs White's abuse because a part of him didn't really trust them to be able to do anything about it. He'd told Lily when he'd been caught, sure, but she was his mum. (And terrifying, to boot.) "No," he decided, "I don't think they would. And you can't put that sort of responsibility on the house prefects."
"What sort of responsibility?" Percy asked from the doorway, and Harry winced when he realised he'd been so caught up with Hermione that he'd missed the older boy's approach.
Hermione looked uncertain for a moment before rallying and offering, "Students who are facing abuse at home, especially the muggleborns. We know it's happening, but we're not sure how to go about getting the victims help."
Percy grimaced. "Aren't you two a bit young to worry about this stuff?"
"You're never too young to worry about abuse," Harry replied quietly, and Percy looked away. He sighed. "Hermione mentioned one of the other muggleborns in her year had come back early from the winter holidays. One can only assume that means there was trouble at his host home, but he didn't mention anything about it to anyone."
"We just...want to know if there's a way to..." Hermione closed her eyes, looking vaguely disturbed. "Oh, that sounds terrible."
"Force the issue?" Harry suggested.
She nodded. "Doesn't it?"
With complete honesty, Harry replied, "I'd rather be forced to tell someone I'm in trouble, than suffer in silence because I'm scared."
They were all quiet for a moment before Percy settled uncertainly in an open chair. "In a couple years, I suppose we could set up a sort of mentoring program with those muggleborns who have finished. Set it as a sort of 'helping the new hands sort things out', but also use it to catch abuse, right?"
"Those who have suffered from abuse are more likely to spot the signs in others," Harry admitted. "Which is why I think you're going to have to depend on friends of the victims being the ones to come forward. But you've still got that trouble with talking to a professor."
"Harry," Percy said, expression a weird mix of irritation and resignation, "that's part of what the prefects and head boy and girl are around for. Yeah, we're supposed to serve as the professors' eyes in the common rooms and serve out punishments for rule-breaking in their stead, but that goes the other way, too. A student who's having trouble in classes, or with other students–" he nodded towards Hermione, who flushed and ducked her head "–are supposed to be able to come to one of us instead of trying to corner a professor."
Harry blinked, because he'd never really had that experience during his time at Hogwarts, during his first life. Though, to be fair, the assistance he'd needed was usually more of the sort that was beyond your average student, prefect or no.
"I mean, sure, we have to report any issues to the head of house, and we usually can't do much beyond offering a bit of extra tutoring, or dock some points, but if you're looking for a, a–"
"Middle man?" Hermione suggested.
"Less threatening face of authority," Harry settled on, and Hermione covered her mouth to muffle a giggle.
Percy snorted. "Either one, yes. The prefects can serve."
Harry glanced towards Hermione and she offered a helpless sort of shrug. "It's the best we've got. I'm not sure how it would be implemented, though..."
"Oh, let me handle that," Percy suggested, straightening in his chair. "We've a meeting on the train at the beginning of every year. I'll bring it up and see if we can't get things started right off. Maybe post an owl to Professor McGonagall to see if she'll put it past the other heads of house and the headmaster."
"You do that," Harry agreed, and smiled as Percy hurried off to find writing materials.
"What about You Know Who?" Hermione whispered once Percy was gone.
Harry snorted. "I'll send him an owl tonight. If nothing else, he can force any dissenters among the staff to play along; I'm sure Severus will approve, but I can't begin to guess what sort of pushback he'll have from those professors who don't care about the home lives of the muggleborns."
Hermione sighed and dropped her head to rest on Harry's shoulder. "I can't imagine how you and he..." She let out a frustrated sound.
"Got to be on anything approaching good terms?" Harry suggested after taking a beat to check for spies, because he'd been expecting this talk, sure, but leave it to Hermione to have it while they were at the Weasleys.
"Yes."
He glanced over at the top of her head, uncertain what his response could be, as aware as he'd been of the coming talk. He settled on, "I don't want to lie to you."
Hermione pulled away and met his level stare, her expression a mix of hurt and resignation. "So you're just not going to tell me anything," she guessed quietly.
Harry nodded. "I'll tell you eventually," he admitted, because he knew he would. "Assuming you don't figure everything out on your own, first," he added.
Hermione's eyes lit with the sort of fire that was far too rare in this version of her. "Is that a challenge, Harry Potter?" she returned.
Harry grinned. "Absolutely."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to find out all of your secrets," she insisted. "And I'm going to do it before I finish Hogwarts."
Harry believed every word.
"He's waiting for you," Death offered mentally that night, after Will and Chris had both fallen asleep.
Harry nodded and slipped out of bed, grabbing his house robe to slip on over his pyjamas. He was just about to step through the doorway that had opened for him when he remembered his challenge to Hermione. He snorted to himself and transfigured a stuffed toy into an approximation of his own sleeping form, then set it under the covers before stepping into the Realm of Death.
"Should have been doing that all along, anyway," he murmured to himself as he started towards Voldemort's rooms. Though, really, the only time he'd been caught by his family had been the one time he'd stayed away past dawn, and they'd already known, by then.
When he stepped through to the dark lord's rooms, he found the man working at his desk, as per usual. Harry had played ruler of the magical world before, and while he'd been plenty willing to delegate the resulting paperwork to those non-humans left in charge of the various governments, he was quite aware of how much work was involved, and how little the dark lord would trust any of his people to manage it. So he really couldn't resist announcing his presence by teasing, "I'm going to tell Albus that he's been replaced as the thing that you fear most."
Voldemort turned to give him a bland stare. "Really. You think I feared Dumbledore more than anything else."
"Ooh, good point," Harry admitted as he dropped gracelessly into a chair. "I'm going to tell Death, then, that he's been usurped by paperwork."
"Of course you are," Voldemort muttered as he pulled out a piece of parchment and held it out towards Harry. "The list of students and their host families. It's tied to a copy I have, so it'll update when I get the list of new placements at the beginning of September."
"Awesome, thanks," Harry said, taking the list. He took a moment to look it over, mentally noting the families he was most uncertain about. "I expect I'll have something before term starts for you to turn your violent streak on."
"Says the child who killed his babysitter," Voldemort retorted before straightening in his seat. His back popped and Harry winced in sympathy. "Did your mudblood–" He stopped and shot Harry a pointed look.
Harry blinked, confused for a moment, before it occurred to him what Voldemort was waiting for. He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm not fond of the term 'mudblood', but I'm hardly going to call you out for using it in your own home or, fuck, around purebloods who would expect it. But I don't want you calling Mum or Hermione that to their faces. Not in my house."
Voldemort snorted. "There are times, Scythe, that I wonder how you ever could have been a dark lord."
Harry leant to one side in his chair, bracing against the arm so he could use his palm as a rest for his cheek. "I never said I was a dark lord."
Voldemort shot him a suspicious look. "You could hardly have been else, with your...gifts."
Harry considered that for a moment, amused. He'd never been called a dark lord in his last life, having another title – two other titles, if one counted Master of Death – but the label certainly fit him, given his work in overthrowing governments worldwide by murdering people. "No one ever called me a dark lord to my face, that I can recall," he settled on.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Were you a hermit?" he demanded.
Harry laughed. "For part of my life," he agreed, fully enjoying baiting the dark lord.
Voldemort pointed a finger at him. "I'll figure it out."
Harry stood, grinning at Voldemort in a way that would have seen anyone else dead. "You and Hermione both, evidently," he allowed, and laughed again when the dark lord scowled and hissed something rude. "I expect Hermione will manage better, but you're at something of a disadvantage, to be fair."
"What disadvantage?" Voldemort snarled.
Harry shook his head and waved the parchment at the angry dark lord. "I've spies to set. Good night, Voldemort."
Voldemort responded with something so utterly vile, Harry whistled, impressed, as he stepped into the Realm of Death. When he spotted Merope standing nearby, he offered, "That son of yours needs someone to wash his mouth out."
"You'll have to provide the bleach," Merope deadpanned.
Harry chuckled. "Perhaps I will. But not until after he's had the chance to spend his ire on other people; I've no interest in suffering his curses."
Merope shook her head. "You're as bad as each other."
"We really are," Harry admitted, still far too amused at how easy it was to rile the dark lord. He glanced down at the list in his hand and felt his amusement draining away at the grim task that lay before him. "It seems I have more important matters to see to, at the moment. Please excuse me, Merope."
Merope nodded and didn't speak again as Harry started away, absently pulling on the invisible tethers of those souls that he could spare from their posts for the next month. He'd have to do some more recruiting once term had started up and Hermione wasn't around to prove a hindrance.
It didn't take long to pass out the names he needed watched. As families were crossed off, he could send his watchers on to other students, until they had, hopefully, picked out all of the problems. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to worry about any muggleborns having to return to an abusive household for the winter holidays, because he'd have caught them all before the train left.
"After that, I guess I'll just have to find a new project," he muttered to himself as he turned towards home. "Stupid saving people thing."
Somewhere, in another reality, a version of Hermione Granger was laughing at another Harry Potter.
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Pro | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
1 - Death Once Again || 2 - Bring Out All the Good Inside Me || 3 - Death and Living Reconciled
4 - Orphan Man || 5 - Using Gentle Words to Shelter Me || 6 - Living on Your Breath
7 - You Just Might Get it All || 8 - Never Want to Come Down || 9 - Only the Silence Remains
10 - Love is a Doing Word || 11 - Nothing Sacred || 12 - The Heart Yearns
16 - Perfectly Reckless || 17 - Your Arms Feel Like Home || 18 - The Sun Will Set For You
19 - Your Love Has Always Been Enough || 20 - Keep Up This Charade || 21 - Truth Like a Blazing Fire
22 - Give Yourself a Try || 23 - Done Pleading Ignorance || 24 - Your Razorblade Caress of Love
25 - Summer's Scent Still Lingers || 26 - Burn Out the Stain || 27 - Final Masquerade
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