✨Harry Potter and the Year Everyone is Horn-knee ✨
❝We've got two weeks of making up to do, darling.❞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Ottery St Catchpole was as peaceful and silent as one could expect. The wild trees, the sound of birds in the early morning, the smell of fresh wood, everything was applicable to a normal livelihood.
Until. . .
"Y/N, PASS ME THE GUN!"
"HARRY, TAKE COVER! THEY'RE ATTACKING!"
You might be wondering who those voices belonged to.
Why, they were Sirius Black and Rebekah Lupin, of course.
It had been two weeks since Harry moved to Rebekah's house with Y/N and Sirius. He had never had so much fun in his entire life, not even when he was staying at Hogwarts.
Even though everyone in the wizarding world was getting their panties in a knot with Voldemort's return, the Diggory residence showed no sign of distress.
Their days were normal, as though nothing life threatening was happening outside their walls.
Rebekah and Sirius were making up to Harry and Y/N for all the years they missed. Harry was surprisingly into cooking, so Rebekah taught Harry every recipe she knew, the two of them would wake up early every day and cook together.
Sirius and Y/N, however, were heavy sleepers. Rebekah and Harry had to splash water on their faces almost every single day to wake them.
After eating breakfast together, Rebekah and Harry would garden together while Sirius and Y/N watched Muggle movies. Then in the afternoon, just as the morning, Rebekah and Harry would cook; Y/N and Sirius, who were always so bad at cooking, would just sneak into the kitchen to steal a bite before getting kicked out by the two chefs.
Evenings were the fun part; the four of them would spend time together by doing anything that came to their mind. Playing games, watching movies, having a dance party in the middle of the living room, belting out muggle songs, painting and so on.
Rebekah and Y/N would also test their make-up skills on their two victims.
Somedays, they would even play Quidditch in the backyard. All four of them were extremely talented Quidditch players so they were pretty well matched.
But no matter what, it was always Sirius Black and Y/N Diggory versus Rebekah Lupin and Harry Potter.
What was happening now, you might ask.
The four of them had teamed up against each other as usual, and built a pillow fort for each 'kingdom' in the living room. On the left was the 'Black-Diggory kingdom' and on the right was the 'Lupin-Potter kingdom'.
Each team's soldier had been given a Nerf gun, and whichever team destroyed the other team's kingdom and captured one of their soldiers, won.
Sirius and Y/N were wearing their cardboard armour and helmet, hiding inside their fort, each armed with a Nerf gun. They looked through the hole and saw that Rebekah and Harry had successfully taken cover inside their fort.
"We need a new strategy, Kit," Sirius told Y/N. "We need to capture Bex somehow."
"What about Harry?" said Y/N.
"If we catch Bex, he'll surrender too. She's the commander."
"Roger that."
Sirius and Y/N looked through the hole of their fort and took aim, but they could see no form of life on the opposite side.
"Where are they-?"
Suddenly there was a war cry outside their fort and two figures jumped down on them, forcing the pillows and blankets to fall on top of Sirius and Y/N. The four of them struggled through the tangle, trying to escape. Y/N kicked someone's gun out of their hand and realized that it was Harry, she got hold of him and pushed herself out of the fort.
When everything was bright and clear again, she grabbed Harry's collar and pushed him to his knees, aiming her gun to his throat.
Only to realise Rebekah was doing the same to Sirius.
"Release my soldier, and you'll get your commander back," said Rebekah, digging her gun into Sirius's throat.
"No," said Y/N. "You release my commander first or your soldier's head gets burst into pieces."
"You know, Bex," said Sirius. "You look exceptionally pretty toda-"
"Shut up," snapped Rebekah.
"Mak-"
"Close your mouth, Black, don't even think about it."
"Close my mouth?" Sirius taunted. "Remember when we were at James's house and you-"
"Oh my god, stop saying words," Rebekah groaned, hitting him with the gun. "And no, I don't remember when we-"
Sirius knocked the gun out of her hand while she was distracted and crawled over to Y/N's side. He found his own gun in the mess and pointed it at Rebekah, who gaped at him in disbelief.
"We've got your soldier, and you're unarmed," said Sirius, standing near Y/N. "You've lost, Miss Lupin."
"We won," Y/N sang, grinning. "We won, we won, we won!"
Rebekah rolled her eyes at her and Sirius. Then she smiled.
"Alright, game's over," she said, helping Harry to his feet. "Come on, let's eat dinner."
Sirius and Y/N chanted "we won, we won" all the way to the kitchen, doing their victory dance and mocking Rebekah and Harry.
They did not stop even when they were eating, not until Rebekah threatened to mix salt in their coffees the next morning.
"Sirius, Bekah, can I ask you something?" said Harry suddenly.
"Sure," said Sirius.
"So um- last year, when I was taking Occlumency lessons from Snape, I saw a memory of his in the Pensieve. . ."
Harry told them about how his father and the others bullied Snape and how Lily argued with James.
When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Rebekah spoke for a moment. Then Rebekah said quietly, "I wouldn't like you to judge your father on what you saw there, sweetie. He was only fifteen-"
"I'm fifteen!" said Harry heatedly.
"Look, Harry," said Sirius placatingly, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be- he was popular, he was good at Quidditch- good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James- whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry- always hated the Dark Arts."
"Yeah," said Harry, "but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because- well, just because you said you were bored," he finished, with a slightly apologetic note in his voice.
"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius quickly.
"Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did," said Rebekah, "everyone thought they were the height of cool- if they sometimes got a bit carried away-"
"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius.
Rebekah smiled.
"He kept messing up his hair," said Harry in a pained voice.
James: shush child. It's an art.
Sirius and Rebekah laughed.
"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius affectionately.
"Especially when Lulu was around," said Rebekah.
"Was he playing with the Snitch?" said Sirius eagerly.
"Yeah," said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly as Sirius and Rebekah beamed reminiscently. "Well. . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot."
"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius bracingly, "we were all idiots!"
"Speak for yourself, Black," said Rebekah.
"And," said Harry doggedly, "he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"
"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius, shrugging, "he couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."
"How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably. "She hated him!"
"Nah, she didn't," said Sirius.
"She started going out with him in seventh year," said Rebekah.
"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.
"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Rebekah.
"Even Snape?" said Harry.
"Well," said Rebekah slowly, "Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"
"And my mum was okay with that?"
"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth," said Sirius. "I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"
Sirius frowned at Harry, who was still looking unconvinced.
"Look," he said, "your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it."
"Yeah, okay," said Harry heavily. "I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."
"Don't stress about it, dear," said Rebekah. "Snape was the biggest git at Hogwarts. I mean, you saw what he called your mother, didn't you?"
"You didn't feel bad for Malfoy when Ron tried to curse him after Malfoy called our Hermione that word," Y/N piped in.
"Well, I was too busy holding you back from punching him," said Harry.
"Draco called Hermione that foul word?" said Rebekah interestedly. "And Ron tried to curse him?"
"Yeah," said Harry and Y/N.
Rebekah and Sirius looked at each other, as though they knew something the other two didn't.
"What?" said Y/N.
"Nothing," said Sirius and Rebekah, smiling mysteriously.
"Hey, is Uncle Moo Moo coming home?" asked Y/N.
"No, sweetie," said Rebekah. "He's busy with the Order. And I should let you three know, I have an early shift at St Mungo's tomorrow, something about the Muggle Prime Minister's assistant. . . poorly performed Imperius Curse, he's strangled about three of our Healers."
"Noo, Harry's also leaving for his aunt's house tomorrow morning!" said Y/N. "If you're both gone, who'd cook for me and Pads?"
"Yeah, you don't want your kitchen to be set on fire again, do you?" said Sirius. "Because Kit and I are excellent kitchen-fire-setters."
"We'll make breakfast for you two children before leaving, happy?" said Rebekah, as Harry laughed.
Sirius and Y/N smiled and nodded contently and went back to their food.
After dinner, everyone went to their separate rooms. Well, everyone except Y/N, who had crept into Harry's room.
It was now a daily routine for Y/N and Harry to sneak into the other's room in the middle of the night to cuddle. The fact that both of their rooms were located in the same hallway made it much easier.
Sirius and Rebekah were a little strict on sleeping together but what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.
Harry's room was painted in his favourite colour: red. He had hung a lot of Gryffindor banners to show his house pride. A round bookshelf sat in the corner, stacked with books Harry occasionally read. The other side of the wall was entirely decorated with photos; Rebekah had framed all the photos she had of James, Lily, and Harry and hung them in there. Harry had also added to the collection by placing some of the photos he, Y/N, Hermione, and Ron took in Hogwarts. Some baby photos of Harry and Y/N, recent photos of Sirius, Rebekah, Harry, and Y/N together. It was Harry's favourite part of the room.
Rebekah had also installed a walk-in closet for Harry, and the first thing she did when he got home was burn all of his second-handed clothes of Dudley that Uncle Vernon had given to Harry.
"Can't we at least keep one for, I dunno, like a momentum?" Harry had asked Rebekah, who was supplying more fire to the clothes with her wand.
"No."
The next thing she did was take him shopping. Everything Harry had in his closet- from his boxers to his shoes- everything was new. His room also had a desk, where a few parchments were lying around. The posters of Holyhead Harpies and Chudley Cannons were glued right near his desk.
On the desk resided Buddy the lamp, the lamp Sirius had stolen from the Black House for Y/N. Harry's Christmas gift to Y/N - Dotter the cactus - was placed near it.
Beside the desk sat Harry's huge bed, which was softer and more comfortable than any bed he'd ever slept in.
The same bed in which Harry was now lying, with Y/N on top of him. One of his hands was holding Y/N's, while the other was holding her around the waist. Y/N was absent-mindedly playing with the collar of his pajamas and talking to him.
". . . but you'll be gone for two weeks," she pouted. "It'll be so boring here without you."
"Sirius and Bekah will be here with you," said Harry, drawing lazy circles on the back of her hand with his thumb while tangling his legs with hers. "I'll come back soon. . ."
"You'll be back before your birthday, right?"
"Of course, love."
Y/N hummed, moving her hand from his collar to play with his hair.
"I am just saying," she said quietly. "I'll miss you. . . or whatever."
Harry smiled tiredly.
"I'll miss you too. . . or whatever."
Suddenly there was a gentle knock on the door and Rebekah's voice called from the outside,
"Harry, dear? Can I come in?"
Utterly panicked, Harry jumped up from the bed, accidentally knocking Y/N aside, who rolled over and fell down on the other side of the bed painfully with a thud.
"Yes!" said Harry, ignoring Y/N's silent 'Ow.'
Rebekah peeked her head in, her eyes slightly narrowing in suspicion.
"Have you packed, sweetie?"
"Yep," Harry nodded, pointing at his trunk full of clothes enough for two weeks' stay.
"Do you want me to get anything for you before you go or-?"
"No- no, I am alright, thanks," said Harry, trying to sound convincing. Rebekah smiled at him and closed the door.
Making sure that she had indeed left, Harry dared to look down his bed.
"Love. . .?"
"Harry James Potter, you git-!"
Y/N pounced on him, hitting him in every part of his body she could reach. Harry laughed and tried to deflect her hits by catching her hands. He flipped her over and pinned her against the bed by her wrists, their faces mere inches apart.
"You do know that I can easily flip you over and escape, right?" whispered Y/N, though every part of her wanted to stay this way.
Harry smirked.
"Sure I can't change your mind?"
Y/N's eyes fluttered close when he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a slow heated kiss. Harry felt like he could do this forever and never get tired of her touch as she kissed him back. Y/N's whole body shivered when she felt Harry's tongue flick over her bottom lip, she hooked a leg around his waist and pulled him in closer, kissing him deeper.
"We should sleep," Harry whispered against her lips. "Dumbledore'll be here early tomorrow morning."
Y/N groaned internally and cursed Dumbledore under her breath as Harry chuckled and fell next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her protectively and pulling the blankets over them.
She snuggled up to him and hid her face in his neck, closing her eyes and wondering how the hell she was going to survive fourteen days without the boy beside her.
"Good night, love," mumbled Harry, kissing her ear.
"G'night. . ."
The next morning, Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm and untangled himself from Y/N. After he'd gotten ready for his journey, he sat on his bed, where his beloved was still sleeping soundly.
"Y/N," he called softly.
She hummed without opening her eyes.
"I am going out," said Harry, pushing the hair out of her face. "I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"
Y/N hummed again and plunged her hand under her pillow, taking a note out of it. Harry figured it was for him and took the note.
Dear Mister Snitch,
If you're reading this, I am probably sleeping like a log.
I physically cannot wake up to wish you goodbye so please just kiss me on the forehead and walk out.
P.S. Give your cousin a kick from me. Byeee.
Harry smiled before planting a loving kiss on her forehead. "You are something else," he said, shaking his head at the girl who still hadn't opened her eyes.
"Love you," came a muffled voice when Harry was at the door, "or whatever. . ."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧
"I'll wait outside," said Sirius, transforming into a huge black dog and curling up near the rusty iron gates.
Y/N pushed open the gates and walked in slowly, the morning air hitting her face. Row upon row of tombstones protruded from the ground, but she took no notice of the other graves, her legs seemed to know automatically where to go, even though she'd been there only once.
At first, she worried this visit would make her anxious and nervous, but it was calming, almost like visiting an old friend. A part of her was hesitant about doing this but she knew she wouldn't get the chance once Harry came back.
She roamed deeper and deeper into the graveyard, clutching the strap of the bag on her shoulder tightly. Then she came to a stop at a familiar headstone made of white marble.
She knelt down on the soft grass beside the tombstone and placed a trembling hand on the cold surface.
"Hey, Ceddy."
She could already feel the tears forming as she looked at the writings on the headstone, something she'd missed the last time she was here, under even more miserable circumstances.
~HERE LIES~
CEDRIC AMOS DIGGORY
Wonderful Son - Fierce Friend - Best brother in the whole world.
"At least my poor toes are safe from my sister now."
Y/N smiled sadly as she read the words, a memory stirring at the back of her head, a memory that seemed years ago. . .
"You know, Mum," said Cedric, as he fell into the chair on the dinner table after getting dragged down the stairs by Y/N for the millionth time. "She won't rest until she's completely mutilated all of my poor toes."
Y/N stuck her tongue out at him from behind her father's back, who was reading the newspaper.
"They're no longer safe in this house as long as she's here," said Cedric. "Not until I die. Then you'll have to write this on my headstone, 'At least my poor toes are safe from my sister now.'"
"Yeah, sweetie, I'll make sure to tell your children to write that," Rebekah laughed as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him.
Little did they know. . .
"It's been a while, huh?" said Y/N, looking at the headstone. "I must look really weird right now, talking to a grave, but I don't care. I couldn't come here for the anniversary, I was at Hogwarts but I had to see you at least once, you know? Things are changing around here and I don't know if I'll ever get another chance."
She opened her bag and pulled out a thick wad of envelopes. All the letters she'd written him throughout the year.
"A lot has happened after you left," she said, placing the letters on her lap. "I wrote all of this for you, just like Grandpa Lyall told me. But- but I don't know where to post them. . . Now that I am here, I might as well tell you everything, huh?"
She attempted to laugh, but it came out as a choked up sob.
"Mum and Dad are no longer together. Everything in our family- in my life crashed the minute you died. Dad's staying at Wiltshire, checks up on me once a week through letters. I even talk to him through the fireplace sometimes. And hey, guess what? Sirius is free now. You wanted to meet him, remember? He's actually waiting outside."
She gestured her hand toward the gates, as though expecting Cedric to just climb out of the ground and say hello to Sirius.
"Fifth year was a nightmare, just like you said. I am a werewolf now, can you believe that?" She laughed. "Not like uncle Moony but close. O.W.L.s. sucked, and I didn't get the Prefect badge like you did. What a shame. We got Career advice last year and McGonagall went on and on about how I'd make an excellent Healer like mum but nah. . . I've decided I want to be a professional Quidditch player, like you wanted to be.
"I guess the only good thing that came out of fifth year was Harry. . . My Harry."
Her fingers enclosed around her bracelet.
"Now, don't be mad, because I know you'll be furious but yeah, your baby sister has a boyfriend now. He's staying at our house actually, just like Mum always wanted. You should've been here, now that would've been a fiasco. . ."
She could vaguely imagine Cedric carrying a broom and chasing Harry around the house after catching him sleeping on the same bed as Y/N.
"I guess I am just. . . happy," she continued, her throat closing up. "Even after everything that's happened, I am happy, Ceddy. I am not sure if I should be, but I don't know. . . Harry makes me happy, even when it feels like the whole world is about to crash around us."
She felt a hot tear trickle down her cheek and the wind picked up, drying it instantly.
"I miss you," she whispered. "And I wish you were here to help me with. . . everything. There's this prophecy that concerns me. . . I don't really understand it but I do know that I am in one hell of a trouble, and I can't help but feel like everything in my life would be a lot easier if you were still with me."
She reached into her bag again and took out the bouquet of yellow roses she made and placed them on top of his grave.
"I need to go now. I shouldn't be out for a long time like this. I just wanted to see you. But, I swear, Ceddy, I'll- I'll come back soon. I'll come back. . . when everything is over."
Y/N pushed herself up and walked two steps forward. She kissed her two fingers and pressed them against the headstone, remembering how she used to feel another pair of fingers link around them, making her feel safe. But now, all she felt was a cold and empty marble.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Two weeks went by like a flash, and soon it was the day of Harry's return. It was past dinner time. Y/N, Sirius, and Rebekah were sitting in the living room, waiting for Harry.
"I just don't get why he isn't writing back to me," said Y/N to the room at large.
She was writing to her cousin Rigel for the tenth time that summer. She never expected Rigel to write back to her first letter, but after sending at least ten letters asking how he was, Y/N thought he ought to have replied to at least one by now. She could do nothing but hope he was alright. . .
The doorbell rang and Y/N leapt to her feet, before Rebekah stopped her.
"Y/N, wait!" She shouted, then turned to the door. "Who's there?"
"It is I, Albus Dumbledore, bringing Harry."
"How do we know for sure?" said Sirius, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder.
"Ask me a question, Sirius."
"Alright, Er- who did you say yes to when James and I asked you to be our date to the Noel Ball?"
"Neither. I said I would go with Remus."
Sirius and Rebekah chuckled. Y/N opened the door at once and was met with Harry's smiling face.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi," smiled Y/N, wishing Dumbledore would go away so that she could hug him.
"Would you like to come in, Dumbledore?" said Rebekah, opening the door wider. "Have a cup of tea-?"
"Thank you, Rebekah, but I am afraid I have urgent matters to attend," said Dumbledore kindly. "While on the subject, Y/N, I am aware this is such short notice but I wondered if you could accompany me and Harry on a quick journey?"
Y/N blinked. Sirius and Rebekah shared a look.
"We thought you only wanted Harry to go with you," said Rebekah, sounding anxious about sending Y/N.
"I believe it would much be much easier if Y/N comes along too."
"Where?" said Y/N.
"I will explain everything on our way, Y/N," said Dumbledore.
"Yeah, okay, I'll just go- change-" said Y/N, as she half-gestured at the sweatshirt and shorts she was wearing and sprinted upstairs.
"Is it really necessary for her to come?" Sirius asked Dumbledore. "Ever since you told us about her role in the prophecy, we've been worried, Dumbledore. The Death Eaters are searching for her, aren't they? They're searching for both her and Harry, you don't know how it's been for me and Bex-"
"Sirius, I understand your concerns," said Dumbledore. "But Harry and Y/N will be safe as long as they're with me. Do you not trust me?"
"Of course we trust you!" said Rebekah. "We're just worried about the kids, is all."
At the moment, Y/N came sliding down the handrail of the stairs, all dressed up and her hair done.
"Ah, good," said Dumbledore. "Shall we go, then?"
"Just- just be careful," said Rebekah, patting Y/N's arm. She and Sirius looked extremely nervous as Y/N, Harry, and Dumbledore stepped outside.
Harry linked his hand with Y/N, making sure to keep her close to him.
Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed.
"Keep your wands at the ready," he said brightly.
"But I thought we're not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?" said Y/N.
"If there is an attack," said Dumbledore, "I give you both permission to use any counterjinx or curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."
"Why not, sir?" said Harry.
"You are with me," said Dumbledore simply. "This will do."
He came to an abrupt halt at the end of the street.
"You two have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said.
"No," said Harry. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"
"You do," said Dumbledore. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind- as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."
Harry and Y/N gripped Dumbledore's proffered forearm.
"Very good," said Dumbledore. "Well, here we go."
Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then-
He gulped great lungfuls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Ottery St Catchpole had vanished. He, Y/N, and Dumbledore were now standing in what appeared to be a deserted village square, in the center of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.
"Are you both all right?" asked Dumbledore, looking down at them solicitously. "The sensation does take some getting used to."
"I'm fine," said Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Rebekah's house rather reluctantly. "But I think I might prefer brooms. . ."
"I've side Apparated lots of time before but. . ." breathed Y/N, cracking her knuckles. "Never get used to it. . ."
Dumbledore smiled, drew his traveling cloak a little more tightly around his neck, and said, "This way."
He set off at a brisk pace, past an empty inn and a few houses. According to a clock on a nearby church, it was almost midnight.
"So tell me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Your scar . . . has it been hurting at all?"
Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.
"No," he said, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again."
He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied expression.
"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," said Dumbledore. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you."
"Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry, who missed neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into Voldemort's mind.
They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter. Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again. "Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Er- where exactly are we?"
"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton."
"And what are we doing here?" said Y/N.
"Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you," said Dumbledore. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."
"How can we help with that, sir?" said Harry.
"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you both," said Dumbledore vaguely. "Left here, Harry, Y/N."
They proceeded up a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were dark. The odd chill that had lain over Ottery St Catchpole for two weeks persisted here too. Thinking of dementors, Harry cast a look over his shoulder and grasped his wand reassuringly in his pocket.
"Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"
"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door," said Dumbledore. "Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance-"
"-you can't Apparate anywhere inside the buildings or grounds," said Harry quickly. "Y/N and Hermione told me."
Y/N smiled.
"And they are quite right. We turn left again. This is the place, just here. . ."
They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. They reached the front gate, Dumbledore stopped dead and Harry and Y/N walked into him.
"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."
Y/N followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt her heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.
Dumbledore glanced up and down the street.
It seemed quite deserted.
"Wand out and follow me, Harry, Y/N," he said quietly.
He opened the gate and walked swiftly and silently up the garden path, Harry and Y/N at his heels, then pushed the front door very slowly, his wand raised and at the ready.
"Lumos."
Dumbledore's wand-tip ignited, casting its light up a narrow hallway. To the left, another door stood open. Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room with Harry and Y/N right behind him.
A scene of total devastation met their eyes. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper.
Harry slithered his free arm around Y/N's waist and pulled her closer to him protectively, she was his top priority.
"Not pretty, is it?" Dumbledore said heavily. "Yes, something horrible has happened here."
Dumbledore moved carefully into the middle of the room, scrutinizing the wreckage at his feet. Harry followed, keeping Y/N close to him and gazing around, half-scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.
"Maybe there was a fight and- and they dragged him off, Professor?" Y/N suggested, trying not to imagine how badly wounded a man would have to be to leave those stains spattered halfway up the walls.
"I don't think so," said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.
"You mean he's- ?"
"Still here somewhere? Yes."
And without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"
"Good evening, Horace," said Dumbledore, straightening up again.
Harry and Y/N's jaws dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye.
"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard," he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."
The wandlight sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walruslike mustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pajamas. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.
"What gave it away?" he grunted as he staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly. He seemed remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.
"My dear Horace," said Dumbledore, looking amused, "if the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house."
The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead.
"The Dark Mark," he muttered. "Knew there was something . . . ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."
He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his mustache flutter.
"Would you like my assistance clearing up?" asked Dumbledore politely.
"Please," said the other.
They stood back to back, the tall thin wizard and the short round one, and waved their wands in one identical sweeping motion.
The furniture flew back to its original places; ornaments re-formed in midair, feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks, and holes healed everywhere, and the walls wiped themselves clean.
"What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" asked Dumbledore loudly over the chiming of the newly unsmashed grandfather clock.
"On the walls? Dragon," shouted the wizard called Horace, as, with a deafening grinding and tinkling, the chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling.
There was a final plunk from the piano, and silence.
"Yes, dragon," repeated the wizard conversationally. "My last bottle, and prices are sky-high at the moment. Still, it might be reusable."
He stumped over to a small crystal bottle standing on top of a sideboard and held it up to the light, examining the thick liquid within.
"Hmm. Bit dusty."
He set the bottle back on the sideboard and sighed. It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry and Y/N.
"Oho," he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar it bore. "Oho!"
"This," said Dumbledore, moving forward to make the introduction, "is Harry Potter and Y/N Diggory. Harry, Y/N, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."
Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."
He pushed past Harry and Y/N, his face turned resolutely away with the air of a man trying to resist temptation.
"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" asked Dumbledore. "For old time's sake?"
Slughorn hesitated.
"All right then, one drink," he said ungraciously.
Dumbledore smiled at Harry and Y/N and directed them toward the couch, which stood right beside the newly burning fire and a brightly glowing oil lamp.
Harry and Y/N took the seats with the distinct impression that Dumbledore, for some reason, wanted to keep them as visible as possible.
Certainly, when Slughorn, who had been busy with decanters and glasses, turned to face the room again, his eyes fell immediately upon Harry and Y/N.
"Hmpf," he said, looking away quickly as though frightened of hurting his eyes. "Here-" He gave a drink to Dumbledore, who had sat down without invitation, thrust the tray at Harry and Y/N, and then sank into the cushions of the repaired sofa and a disgruntled silence. His legs were so short they did not touch the floor.
"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" Dumbledore asked.
"Not so well," said Slughorn at once. "Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."
"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice," said Dumbledore. "You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"
Slughorn said, half irritably, half proudly, "Two. Didn't hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," he added sternly, seeming to pull himself back together again, "the fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts."
"You're not yet as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore.
"Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself," said Slughorn bluntly. His pale gooseberry eyes had found Dumbledore's injured hand. "Reactions not what they were, I see."
"You're quite right," said Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers. "I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other hand . . ."
He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations.
"So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace . . . are they for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?" asked Dumbledore.
"What would the Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?" demanded Slughorn.
"I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion, torture, and murder," said Dumbledore. "Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?"
Slughorn eyed Dumbledore balefully for a moment, then muttered, "I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house- the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands- it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano."
"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts-"
"If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days-"
"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy half-breeds.'"
"That's what she did, did she?" said Slughorn. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."
Harry and Y/N chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at them.
"Sorry," Harry said hastily. "It's just- I didn't like her either."
"Well, I am not sorry," said Y/N. "She was horrible."
Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly.
"Are you leaving?" asked Slughorn at once, looking hopeful.
"No, I was wondering whether I might use your bathroom," said Dumbledore.
"Oh," said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. "Second on the left down the hall."
Dumbledore strode from the room. Once the door had closed behind him, there was silence. After a few moments, Slughorn got to his feet but seemed uncertain what to do with himself. He shot a furtive look at Harry and Y/N, then crossed to the fire and turned his back on it, warming his wide behind.
"Don't think I don't know why he's brought you two," he said abruptly.
He glanced at Harry's hand, which was still resting on Y/N's waist and muttered, "So it is true then, what they're saying? All the fuss about. . . you two. . ."
Harry and Y/N merely looked at Slughorn. Slughorn's watery eyes slid over Harry's scar, this time taking in the rest of his face.
"You look very like your father."
"Yeah, I've been told," said Harry.
"Except for your eyes. You've got-"
"My mother's eyes, yeah." Harry had heard it so often he found it a bit wearing.
"And you," Slughorn turned to Y/N, "you're an exact copy of your mother."
"Oh, um, thanks?" said Y/N awkwardly.
"Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favorites as a teacher, of course, but they were two of mine. Your mothers," Slughorn added, in answer to Harry's questioning look. "Rebekah Lupin and Lily Evans. Two of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girls. Rebekah was a born Gryffindor but I used to tell Lily she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too."
"Which was your House?" said Harry.
"I was Head of Slytherin," said Slughorn. "Oh, now," he went on quickly, seeing the expression on Harry and Y/N's faces and wagging a stubby finger at them, "don't go holding that against me! You'll be Gryffindor like them, I suppose? Yes, it usually goes in families. Not always, though. Ever heard of Sirius Black? You must have done- been in the papers for the last couple of years-"
"Yeah, he's my godfather," said Harry. "I am living with him now."
"Ah, of course, he was a big pal of your father's at school. No wonder he's your godfather. The whole Black family had been in my House, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame- he was a talented boy. I got his brother, Regulus, when he came along, but I'd have liked the set."
He sounded like an enthusiastic collector who had been outbid at auction. Apparently lost in memories, he gazed at the opposite wall, turning idly on the spot to ensure an even heat on his backside.
"Lily was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good."
"One of our best friends is Muggle-born," said Harry, "and she's the best in our year."
"Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?" said Slughorn.
"Not really," said Y/N coldly.
Slughorn looked down at her in surprise. "You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" he said. "No, no, no! Haven't I just said Lily was one of my all-time favorite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too- now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course- another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!"
He bounced up and down a little, smiling in a self-satisfied way, and pointed at the many glittering photograph frames on the dresser, each peopled with tiny moving occupants.
"All ex-students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes- a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back- you'll see her if you just crane your neck-"
Y/N let out a squeal and slapped her hand over her mouth. Harry and Slughorn looked at her in surprise.
"Is that- is that Gwenog Jones?"
She pointed an excited finger at a picture of a girl in Quidditch robes.
"Oh, why, it is!" said Slughorn. Y/N looked like she might faint.
"She's the captain of the Holyhead Harpies!" she said shrilly. "You taught her?"
"Of course, I did!" said Slughorn, clearly pleased. "People are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!"
Y/N was still staring at Slughorn as though he was God. Harry knew how much she liked the Holyhead Harpies, it would be clear to anyone who'd seen her room.
"So- so hypothetically, If I request you to get her autograph for me," said Y/N slowly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Would you be able to get it? All hypothetical, of course."
The smile slid from Slughorn's face as quickly as the blood from his walls.
"Of course not," he said, looking down at Y/N. "I have been out of touch with everybody for a year."
Y/N's form slumped. Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself; he looked quite unsettled for a moment. Then he shrugged.
"Still . . . the prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate-"
"You don't have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts," said Harry. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed- well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was working with Voldemort."
Harry had been sure Slughorn would be one of those wizards who could not bear to hear Voldemort's name spoken aloud, and was not disappointed: Slughorn gave a shudder and a squawk of protest, which Harry ignored.
"I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?" Harry went on.
Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: He seemed to be thinking over Harry's words.
"Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore," he muttered grudgingly. "And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend . . . in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus. . . ."
Dumbledore reentered the room and Slughorn jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house.
"Oh, there you are, Albus," he said. "You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?"
"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines," said Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, Y/N, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."
Not at all reluctant to obey, Harry jumped to his feet. Y/N hesitated for a second, still a bit hopeful that Slughorn might get Gwenog's autograph for her.
Slughorn seemed taken aback.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one."
"Lost . . . ?"
Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his traveling cloak, and Harry and Y/N zip up their jackets.
"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace," said Dumbledore, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."
"Yes . . . well . . . very gracious . . . as I say . . ."
"Good-bye, then."
"Bye," said Harry.
"He knows Gwenog!" Y/N whispered to Harry as he led her outside.
They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.
"All right, all right, I'll do it!"
Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway to the sitting room.
"You will come out of retirement?"
"Yes, yes," said Slughorn impatiently. "I must be mad, but yes."
"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, beaming. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."
"Yes, I daresay you will," grunted Slughorn.
As they set off down the garden path, Slughorn's voice floated after them, "I'll want a pay rise, Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore chuckled. The garden gate swung shut behind them, and they set off back down the hill through the dark and the swirling mist.
"Well done, Harry and Y/N," said Dumbledore.
"We didn't do anything," said Harry in surprise.
"Oh yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you two like him?"
"Er . . ." said Harry.
"He knows Gwenog Jones! First name basis!" said Y/N, apparently still fan-girling. "That's- wow."
"Horace," said Dumbledore, "likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat- more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystalized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin Liaison Office."
Harry had a sudden and vivid mental image of a great swollen spider, spinning a web around it, twitching a thread here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer.
"I tell you all this," Dumbledore continued, "not to turn you two against Horace- or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn- but to put you both on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you. You would be the jewels of his collection; Harry Potter and Y/N Diggory . . . or, as they call you these days, 'the Chosen One.' and 'the Guardian'".
At these words, a chill that had nothing to do with the surrounding mist stole over Y/N. She was reminded of words she had heard a few weeks ago, words that had been chewing up her brain: She has the power to protect them. . .
Dumbledore had stopped walking, level with the church they had passed earlier.
"This will do. If you two will grasp my arm."
Braced this time, Harry was ready for the Apparition, but still found it unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able to breathe again, he was standing in a country lane beside Dumbledore and looking ahead to the silhouette of his comfort place and second favorite building in the world: the Diggory residence.
"If you don't mind, Harry, Y/N," said Dumbledore, as they passed through the gate, "I'd like a few words with you both before we part."
Harry and Y/N stopped near Rebekah's flower bed.
"I hope the two of you are happy even after everything that happened in the past," said Dumbledore, though it seemed more like a question. "Do you like staying at Rebekah's house, Harry?"
"Yes!" Harry nodded frantically. "I've never been happier in my life, actually."
"Good," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?"
"Yes," said Harry and Y/N.
"Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?"
"Yes," said Harry again. "And now everyone knows that I'm the one-"
"No, they do not," interrupted Dumbledore. "There are only five people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you two and Lord Voldemort, and three of them are standing outside this house while the other two are sitting inside. It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you both."
"You told Mum and Sirius about the prophecy?" asked Y/N.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "It is essential that they know, Y/N. They're your Guardians. Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?"
"No," said Harry and Y/N.
"A wise decision, on the whole," said Dumbledore. "Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes," he continued, when Harry and Y/N looked startled, "I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them."
"We didn't want-"
"-to worry or frighten them?" said Dumbledore, surveying Harry and Y/N over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends. On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you both take private lessons with me this year."
"Private- with you?" said Harry, surprised.
"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."
"What will you be teaching us, sir?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that for you, Harry," said Dumbledore airily.
Harry waited hopefully, but Dumbledore did not elaborate, so he asked something else that had been bothering him slightly.
"If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?"
"Professor Snape, Harry- and no, you will not."
"Good," said Harry in relief, "because they were a-"
He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought.
"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," said Dumbledore, nodding.
Harry laughed.
"And Y/N," said Dumbledore, turning to Y/N. "I wish to teach you Occlumency this year."
Y/N blinked.
"Me-? Occlumency?" She repeated. "But why, Professor? Voldemort doesn't have access to my mind, does he?"
"Occlumency is a useful ability to possess, Y/N," said Dumbledore. "You do not need to be possessed by Voldemort to learn it. I believe it will be of great assistance to you in the future. . . Though one hopes you do not need it. . ."
Dumbledore fell silent and for a second, he looked almost solemn.
"Now, Harry, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?"
Harry nodded.
"And you, Y/N, do keep yourself close to your friends and family at all times. Do not use your Hybrid powers or turn into a werewolf unless absolutely necessary, you do not want to tire yourself. It might give our enemies a chance to solve the puzzle."
Though slightly confused, Y/N nodded.
"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. "I see a light in the living room. Rebekah and Sirius must be worried sick. I shall see you both at Hogwarts."
He gestured at the door, Y/N and Harry gave him a nod as Dumbledore disapparated.
Y/N threw herself at Harry the second he vanished, she had been waiting for it ever since she saw him that night.
"I missed you so much, Merlin, you have no idea," she breathed, hugging him tighter. "Fourteen days, ugh. Torture, I swear."
"I guess we should make up for it then," Harry whispered in her ear.
"What?" Y/N chuckled.
"We've got two weeks of making up to do, darling."
"Not unless you catch me first," Y/N gave him a shove and ran into the house using her headstart, screaming with laughter as she felt Harry chasing her close behind.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧
In the clouds:
Cedric, furious about Harry snogging his sister: Aunt Lily, how do I get revenge on my enemies?
Lily: the best revenge is letting go and moving on.
Cedric: . . . .
Cedric: Uncle James, how do I-
James: BRICK
Satan: YES
Regulus: AND KNIFE
James, having a heart attack: HOLY MERLIN'S BALLSACK when the FUCK did you get here-
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Author's note♡
I hope I didn't make you guys too sad with the graveyard scene :( I just didn't want Cedric to be forgotten because every fanfic just forgets about Cedric or their dead relative like their mum or dad after the year they die and I am like ???
I also may or not have gotten inspiration from DH when Harry goes to Godric's hollow but aNygays-
What do you darlings want to see in sixth year?
~maddiesonnyson <3