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466Chapter 7: Friends and Enemies

Updated 6/28/18

Friends and Enemies

The next day, Harry spent the afternoon in the library, catching up on the work he'd missed the day before using Remus's notes. He'd had to stop by Professor Babbling to get his work, since all of them had missed class the day before. It was grueling, reading up on the technical details that made a curse a curse, and Harry was ready to quit almost before he started.

Suddenly Harry sensed someone nearby. He looked up to see Snape—Severus, Harry reminded himself—standing a little uncomfortably near his table. Snape—Severus—looked surprised to be caught and his cheeks blotched faintly in embarrassment. He made to walk away, but Harry smiled.

"Have a seat. No one else is sitting here," he offered. "Though I can't promise to be much for company," he added with a self-depreciating shrug.

"I don't mind," Severus replied quietly. He sat down across the table from Harry and pulled out a roll of parchment and a textbook. Harry glanced at his Defense homework, then sighed and put it away in favor of Ancient Runes.

For a while they worked in silence but for the scratching of quills and the turning of pages. Then:

"Thanks," Severus said suddenly, quietly.

Harry looked up in surprise. "What for?" There was a very unfamiliar expression on his familiar face—uncertainty.

Severus glanced away, embarrassed. "For standing up for me," he mumbled. "Blocking Black's curse. Taking the hit."

Harry's eyebrows rose past his hairline. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine Severus Snape saying thank you to Harry Potter. Granted, here he was known as Harrison Carter, but that made it no less peculiar.

"No problem," Harry said, gesturing vaguely. "I don't like the way they treat you. Granted," he allowed, "you have provoked them several times. But they're at fault, too, for rising to it. And this time, it was all them. Besides," Harry added, "Sirius's curse bloody hurt. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Still…thanks," Severus repeated quietly.

"No problem," Harry said again. Then he held out his hand. "Friends?"

The Slytherin eyed his hand warily for a moment, seeming to weigh it in his mind. Finally, he nodded and shook. "Friends."

The rest of the week went more smoothly. The prank had totally worn off by breakfast on Tuesday, and by Wednesday any lingering resentment for said prank had vanished in the wake of funny memories. Even the teachers had let it go, though McGonagall still held a slight grudge, mostly because she hadn't caught the perpetrators.

Tensions were still high between Severus and the Marauders—namely, Sirius. On Thursday, Harry found out that Sirius had caught Severus alone in the corridor and extracted his own brand of revenge—by using Petrificus Totalus to hold the Slytherin in place, then using him for target practice. It was only color-changing spells and mostly harmless jinxes, but Harry was furious. Sirius would swear later that his ears were still ringing from Harry's shouted lecture, and afterward he didn't dare raise his wand against Severus. The other Marauders learned not to make their new dorm mate angry. At the same time, they learned that there were very few things that got him riled up. Bullying was at the very top of that list, right up there with bigotry.

That week was also the week leading up to the October full moon. Harry worriedly watched as Remus grew paler and more sickly-looking as the eighth of October approached. He tried to pass it off as a cold, and the other boys immediately latched on to the excuse. But at the same time, they weren't trying hard enough. Many times, any one of them (with the exception of Remus) would make a joke or comment alluding to the full moon within earshot of Harry, and often right in front of him. Them Remus would go even paler and hiss at them to shut up. So, naturally, Harry started getting "suspicious." And he deliberately left out clues that he was starting to catch on.

After classes let out, he would go to the library and bring one or two books heavily featuring werewolves back to the dorm, and then he left them out where he knew the others would see them. He joined in on the comments, then feigned ignorance when the other boys grew tense.

Harry knew, roughly three days before the full moon, that his dorm mates were getting suspicious. They'd hold intense whispered conversations that would suddenly cut off when Harry approached or entered the room. On the day before the moon, when Remus was just about at his worst, they gave Harry sidelong glances as though daring him to comment.

Of course, Harry never did—at this point, he'd only be setting himself up for suspicion and distrust. It was too soon to tell them he knew Remus was a werewolf, and they'd be even more wary around him when that was the last thing he wanted. Despite Sirius's bad attitude toward Slytherins, and his frequent targeting of Severus in particular, Harry was finally starting to feel like a part of the Marauders. They pulled numerous little pranks, often with Harry's input, and even served a few detentions together. They were starting to open up a little more to him, and Harry felt inclined to do the same—he just didn't know how without revealing who he really was. And he was loathe to throw that all away just because he was impatient.

As a result, Harry left them alone. On the day of the full moon, Harry was more concerned with Remus's health than he was about telling them what he knew. He followed the other boys' lead in being a little more gentle, a little more sensitive, and didn't ask questions when Remus was finally admitted to the hospital wing shortly before dinnertime. He also allowed them the space to plan and prepare for their escape that night by staying down in the common room, rather than going up to the dorm.

At about seven o'clock, the Gryffindor common room exploded into chaos. Fireworks went off in every corner and burst out of the fireplace. The room filled with colored smoke that left most of the inhabitants coughing. It was easy to miss the trio sneaking out through the portrait hole, mostly concealed by an invisibility cloak. But Harry had been expecting something, and so he caught a glimpse of a polished black shoe against the red carpet before it was hastily concealed, and he saw the portrait hole open and close on its own.

When the smoke cleared (and Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, had delivered a heated lecture on pulling pranks in the common room), Harry gathered up his homework things and headed up to the dorm. But the empty dorm made Harry feel forgotten, left behind. He didn't want to stay there alone. So instead, he tossed his school robe onto his bed, selected two textbooks and future-Remus's Hogwarts journal, and returned to the common room where he curled up on the sofa by the fireplace.

He tried to read ahead in his Ancient Runes text, but he only managed a few pages. He felt restless. The common room was emptying; mostly NEWT and OWL students remained behind, trying to get through their workload that night so they could have a free weekend. There were a few scattered groups of younger students, and Tonks, Lily, and Marlene were chatting nearby.

Not wanting to raise suspicion, Harry tried his Potions text. It was only slightly more interesting than Ancient Runes, but it kept him occupied, at least, until all but the most dedicated students had gone to bed.

Suddenly the sofa depressed beside him. Harry looked up to see Tonks sitting beside him, smiling faintly.

"Is Potions that interesting that you're staying up 'til midnight reading?" she teased lightly.

"Of course," Harry replied. "If you did the same every now and then, maybe you would be the top-ranking student in Potions class, instead of me."

Tonks ruffled his hair. "Cheeky brat," she said affectionately. Then she turned more serious. "How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. "I'm worried," he admitted. "I just…I wish I could be down there, helping."

Tonks squeezed his shoulder. "Me, too. The full moon makes me anxious. There were times in the Order that he'd return the morning after, battered, exhausted, barely able to stand sometimes. It…it hurt me, to see him like that." Her cheeks flushed a little pink, but Harry didn't have the energy to tease her. Not tonight.

"I hope he's okay," he murmured.

"Me, too," Tonks murmured in reply. She kissed his hair, then got to her feet. "Don't stay up too late, now," she teased gently. "I love you, kid."

Harry's lips twitched. "Love you, too, sis. G'night."

"Night," Tonks echoed, then she headed upstairs. Marlene followed her.

Once they had gone, Harry pulled his legs up to his chest and stared into the flickering firelight. Silver moonlight was spilling through the curtains and a faint howl echoed across the grounds. He didn't know what time it was; only that it was very late. After midnight, at least. There was another faint howl and a sound like a bark, and Harry's throat tightened.

Several minutes passed, then for the second time that evening, the sofa depressed beside him. He looked over and found, to his surprise, that it was Lily.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Harry answered, but it came out more like a sigh. A moment passed in silence, then Harry looked over again at the auburn-haired figure of his teenaged mother. "What are you doing here?" he asked, lowering his legs.

Lily smiled faintly. "You looked like you could use some company. And a listening ear, if you'd like."

Harry almost said, thanks, but I'm fine. But what came out was something very different. "To be honest…I'm a little homesick." The word came naturally, even though Harry wasn't sure he'd ever truly felt that way before. "I know, that's for firsties at the beginning of term, and here I am a sixth year and it's October, but…" Harry trailed off and pulled his legs up to his chest again. "And it's silly, because…well, I don't really have a home anymore."

"Why is that?" Lily asked. "And…why tonight? I mean, homesickness isn't just for first years, but you're right that it's usually just the beginning of term. Of course, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just thought I'd ask, because—"

"It's fine," Harry interrupted her rambling, smiling faintly. "You see…my…godfather, he…he died, at the beginning of the summer. And sometimes…I can't help but miss him. Especially…" He trailed off, then began again much more quietly. "Especially on the full moon."

"Was—was he killed on a full moon?" Lily asked in horror. "Was…was it a—"

"No, no. But…he was." Harry put a slight emphasis on "he." Technically it wasn't true. His godfather wasn't a werewolf. But as far as anyone in the past was concerned, his godfather—future Sirius—and his surrogate father—future Remus—were the same person. At least, they would be, if Harry ever got around to telling anyone. And to Harry, it felt like he'd lost both of them anyway since, so far, there was no way back. So it made little difference what he said.

"…Oh." Lily made a little noise of surprise. "Not that I care, or anything," she added hastily. "It's just…not common…"

"For someone to make a werewolf their kid's godfather? I know. But mine was a good man, and…I miss him a lot," Harry said quietly.

There was a moment of silence, then Lily touched Harry's shoulder. He tried not to flinch in surprise. "Thanks for letting me listen," she said. Then she stifled a yawn. "Well, I'd better get to bed. Good night, Harrison."

"Harry."

"What?"

Harry smiled. "Call me Harry."

Lily smiled back. "Good night, then, Harry."

"Good night," mum.

Lily smiled and headed upstairs. Harry turned back toward the fireplace. He was beginning to feel the late hour. But his mind wouldn't let him rest. So Harry kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie and the top few buttons of his uniform shirt, and curled up against the arm of the sofa with the third book he'd brought downstairs—future Remus's Hogwarts journal. He opened it to where he'd left off and read until his eyes refused to read any further. Then he finally drifted to sleep.

The next morning, it was an exhausted and battered trio that returned to Gryffindor tower just before sunrise. They made to steal quietly up to the dorm and get a few hours' sleep, but then Peter made a slight noise of surprise.

"What's up, Pete?" James hissed tiredly.

"It's Harry," Peter explained in a whisper. "Just there." He pointed to their favorite sofa. Sure enough, their dormmate was sprawled out across the cushions, fast asleep. His clothes were rumpled, his tie loose and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. His shoes were under the table in front of the sofa. A book lay open on his stomach.

"Studying again?" Sirius wondered.

"On a Friday night, though?" James added.

"Not just any Friday night; on the full moon."

"Just like last time," Peter observed. "D'you think he knows?"

"How could he? It took us a year to figure it out."

"Yeah, but we were first years. And he couldn't miss the fact that all of us disappear. The facts are all there."

"I think we're safe, though. He probably just fell asleep doing homework. You know he's a nerd."

"D'you think we should wake him?"

"It's barely six, and Saturday at that. I'd sooner join him than wake him."

"Me, too. I don't want him to hex me again."

"You deserved it, though," came Peter's quiet reply.

"What? How are you defending—"

"Shh! Padfoot, keep your voice down or you'll wake him."

"Maybe I should wake him. He has a lot to answer for, like why he's suddenly all buddy-buddy with that slimy—"

"Padfoot!" James hissed again.

Harry shifted and groaned. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Too late," Peter murmured.

Harry finally cracked his eyes open to see three of the four Marauders standing over him. They all looked exhausted, but other than a few minor cuts and bruises, they seemed fine. Relief filled Harry's chest, but it was quenched by irritation at being woken.

"Ugh," Harry mumbled, turning his face back into the pillow.

"Hey! That's no way to greet someone as handsome as me!"

"James, you prat. That's my line!"

"Just get your ugly mugs out of my face and let me sleep," Harry grumbled, trying to roll over. But the couch wasn't wide enough and he landed flat on his back on the ground with a surprised grunt. Snickering filled the silence and Harry narrowed bleary eyes at them.

"Why don't you just come upstairs with us and sleep in a real bed for a bit?" James offered, trying and failing to stifle his laughter.

"Shut up," Harry grumbled. He grabbed his shoes and his three books, then he headed for the staircase. The others followed him, still chortling. As revenge, Harry threw his stuff onto his bed (except for the journal; that he took a second to put away properly), stripped his shirt, then fell face-down across the nearest bed—which happened to be James's.

"Oy! That's my bed!" James protested.

"Don't care," Harry mumbled. "'M sleeping here."

"But it's my bed!" James repeated. Harry was already half-asleep and didn't bother to reply. He was exhausted and had no intention of moving for the next four hours at least.

The rest of the weekend passed in a fairly relaxed manner. Harry went with the others to visit Remus in the hospital wing after lunch Saturday—once the other boys had woken up and more or less recovered. He showed the appropriate amount of concern and pretended to buy the lie about having caught a bout of the flu that required him to stay in the infirmary overnight. He also failed to point out that before the moon, Remus and the others had claimed it was a bad cold.

Sunday Harry and Tonks had their regular study session in the library, joined partway through by Regulus. It had been a few weeks and he was starting to grow more comfortable around them, which made Harry glad. He and Regulus were starting to become good friends, with the various times they'd run into each other during the week as well.

During that time, pieces of Regulus's story began emerging. He was on thin ice regarding the rest of Slytherin house. They respected him because he was a Black but were wary because he had yet to declare a side in the growing conflict, which most of the older years had done. Severus was in the same boat. He was respected because of his knowledge of the Dark Arts and his prowess in Potions, but since he also had yet to declare a side, most of the house was wary of him.

The pressure from their house to choose a side had sort of driven Severus and Regulus together. They were more or less friends (though they regarded themselves as allies or mutual acquaintances). And because of that, Regulus had learned firsthand about the confrontation between the Slytherin and Sirius. He didn't outright say it, but Harry could tell Regulus was grateful for Harry's intervention on Severus's behalf.

The following week passed much the same as the first, minus the confrontations in the hallway. A notice for Apparation lessons went up on Tuesday, and that was all the sixth years could talk about the whole week. The first lesson was that Saturday, the second Saturday in October. It went about as well as could be expected. There were only a few mishaps, none of them irreversible. And James went and made a fool of himself (again) in front of Lily, trying to show off without actually knowing what he was doing. For the next several days, James was the butt of quite a few jokes. He took it all in stride, loudly proclaiming that he'd get it right next time, or that he did it on purpose in hopes pity would soften Lily's heart.

By Monday afternoon, the novelty of it all had mostly worn off and the gossip died down. However, there was one person intent on making it last as long as possible. And Harry happened to be seat partners with him in Potions class that very afternoon.

"Potter sure did a number on himself this time," Severus said mockingly. Harry shrugged noncommittally, neither confirming nor denying the affirmation. Severus seemed to take that as permission to unleash all his complaints about "that arrogant bastard," as though no one ever let him complain. For a little while Harry let it go, preferring to concentrate on his potion instead. However, the comments grew more and more insulting and unjustified and Harry started looking for an opening to interrupt.

"That son of a bitch blood traitor isn't good enough for her anyway," Severus muttered viciously, crushing the beetle eyes he was supposed to be adding to his potion. At that, Harry decided enough was enough.

"And you are?" Harry retorted in an undertone. Severus looked shocked that Harry had even heard; it seemed he'd forgotten who he was talking to. Before he got a chance to respond, Harry continued. "I know you hate him, Severus, but he's still my friend. And I won't let anyone get away with insulting my friends like that," he added pointedly. "He may be an idiot sometimes, but that doesn't mean you get to say so."

"Why do you even bother defending that prick?" Severus demanded. "I bet you listen to them mock me all the time. Why is this any different?"

"Because," Harry began pointedly, "when they start on you, I put a stop to it. It's not even just because you're my friend, too. It's just not right to talk about people like that, to their faces or behind their backs. Believe me," Harry added darkly, "I would know."

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't seem to find the words. He scowled and turned back to the roots he had started chopping. But Harry noticed a slightly impressed and even grateful look on the Slytherin's face as he worked. Somehow, Harry knew he had just won Severus's trust.