Chapter 41:

Later, when Harry was no doubt tucked up in Gryffindor Tower — hopefully not having late-night liaisons with Draco Malfoy — Remus flooed down to Severus' quarters, pleased when the Potions Master gave him permission to enter. The man had shed his teaching robe, leaving him in just a white button-up and black trousers, his feet bare. Remus' throat went a little dry. "Evening, Severus."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Severus retorted, aiming for exasperated and falling just a touch short. Remus stifled a smile, sinking into the comfortable black leather sofa. Severus was in the armchair, a glass of white wine at his elbow. He summoned the bottle and a second glass, directing it over to Remus before the man could even ask.

"Draco Malfoy is your godson, correct?" Remus asked once the wine was safely in his grasp. Severus raised a thin eyebrow.

"Yes. Why, what has the little whelp done now?" Again, he wasn't quite reaching exasperated; the fondness was creeping through.

"Befriended Harry Potter, apparently." Remus laughed when Severus almost spilled wine over himself at the proclamation.

"He what?"

Remus relayed what he'd heard from Harry — some, not all of it. He didn't want to go spilling his cub's secrets. "It seems they're quite close now. I daresay Harry even has a bit of a crush." Oh, it was definitely more than 'a bit of a crush', but he didn't want to give Severus a heart attack.

The dark-haired man stared at him for several long seconds, before his eyes fell shut, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Merlin help me," he muttered. "The children of today have no sense, do they? Meeting in secret in Albus Dumbledore's castle, sweet Salazar."

"I don't recall us having much more sense when we were thirteen, Severus," Remus pointed out dryly, biting back a laugh when Severus' ears reddened at the tips. "I told Harry to be careful. He understands Lucius is not to be reckoned with." That brought Remus to the point he'd been considering ever since Harry had left his office. "You know them far better than I do, Severus. Do you think Narcissa could be turned?"

There was a pregnant silence. Remus waited patiently. "Narcissa will do whatever will keep her son the safest," Severus said eventually. "She'd lay down her life for him in a heartbeat." He pushed his long hair back from his eyes, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Butterflies erupted in Remus' stomach, that the man was so comfortable around him, but he pushed them down with years of practice. "I have often wondered if there was a safe way to remove Narcissa and Draco from Lucius' care, should the worst come to pass. She follows him out of fear, not love. Time and time again I have tried to convince her to have a contingency plan in place, but she won't hear of it, just in case Lucius finds out and decides to punish her for it."

"And if her son chose to fight at Harry Potter's side?" Remus asked. Would Draco ever be so brave as to openly do so? People had done stupider things for love.

"Then she would be wherever she needed to be to protect him from the fallout," Severus replied. "With any luck, the scenario is a long time coming, but… that Potter foolhardiness might be exactly what's needed to push Narcissa's hand. She will follow wherever Draco goes, and if that means turning to Potter… she'll never come to Dumbledore, though. The only flaw in our plan."

"Harry won't come to Dumbledore either," Remus revealed. He still felt sick when he thought about what the headmaster had done to his cub. If the goblins hadn't scanned him… Severus raised an enquiring brow, but Remus shook his head. "His secrets aren't mine to share. But safe to say, Harry trusts the headmaster about as much as we do, these days. Perhaps even less."

"Interesting." The word was barely a murmur, Severus' low voice making Remus' spine tingle in a way he couldn't turn off, even after all these years. "There's no point in planning too far ahead now. The things we fear may never come to pass, or at least not for a while."

"We should be so lucky," Remus returned, draining his wine glass. He was tempted to top it up, but that would be a foolish move. Between the warmth of the fire and the buzz of the wine, he was too comfortable already. It wouldn't do to push too hard and lose all his precious gained ground.

"These brats will be the death of me, Remus," Severus declared quietly, his words hanging ominously in the fire-lit room.

"On the contrary, Severus," Remus replied, thinking of the sparkle in Harry's green eyes when he spoke of his budding friendship with Draco Malfoy. "I believe they might be the saving grace for all of us. If we play our cards right."

Harry was young and foolish and naive in so many ways, but not as many as he should be at his age. And despite all that, everything he'd been through; he had so much hope in that young heart of his. That sort of hope might be just enough to get them through.

.-.-.-.

Things were tense in Gryffindor tower the night before the match against Slytherin. Even Hermione claimed to be too nervous to study. Half an hour before curfew, Harry got to his feet. "I'm going for a walk," he said quietly. Hermione shot him a worried look.

"Harry, it's late."

"I'll wear the cloak," he promised. "I just… I can't stay here. I need some air if I'm gonna get to sleep." She didn't look pleased, but she kept any further protests to herself. "Just be careful," she murmured, watching him sneak up the stairs just enough to put on the invisibility cloak in privacy. He only had to wait a few minutes for the portrait hole to open as a couple of seventh years came through, and then he was slipping out into the corridor.

He'd told Hermione he just needed air, but really he had somewhere to be. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure anyone could hear him as he walked, but none of the few people he passed noticed. They were all too focused on getting to their rooms before curfew.

Eventually, Harry turned into an empty Transfiguration classroom, and took the cloak off, stuffing it in his bag. He waited. The door creaked open just wide enough for a blond head to duck through, shutting just as quick as it opened. "I can't believe we're doing this," Draco muttered. "Going to curse me before the match?"

Harry laughed quietly, his heart light Draco had come. Harry wasn't sure he was going to. "I don't need to curse you to win," he teased, sinking into a chair. Draco chose the chair opposite, digging the deck of cards from his pocket.

"Just because you've got that fancy Firebolt doesn't mean you'll win," Draco retorted, shuffling the deck and dealing hands. "I could beat you on a Cleansweep, Malfoy." Harry stuck his tongue out playfully, and Draco shot him a look of mock-disgust.

"Are all Gryffindors this childish?"

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