Chapter Text
Harry knew he was grumpy, he could tell by the way his friends were treating him, but he still didn't manage to care enough to change. It was Friday afternoon, they were having Potions with the Slytherins, and, after spending the whole week barely sleeping so he could study more, the heat of the cauldrons and the weird smell in the classroom gave him a headache. If that wasn't bad enough, Harry had had to deal with Snape covering for Professor Lupin the whole week while his favourite professor was 'sick', and now had to deal with their greasy professor breathing down his neck trying to see him make a mistake.
Snape was particularly nasty today. Nobody really knew what had gotten his knickers in a twist, but the man was dreadful. He had screamed at Neville for five long minutes just because the boy had apparently forgotten to add something or another to his potion in the correct moment, making it yellow instead of the deep orange it should be. He had then vanished the boy's potion and made him restart.
Harry was especially happy that he had focused so much on his potions studies, though. He no longer depended on Hermione to whisper the instructions to him as he made the Confusing Concoction, and he was glad for that as Snape kept watching him, as if to see any mistakes he could make, probably just to take points out of him and give him detention. He continued to stir the potion until it changed its colour to blue and turned to grab the last ingredient. 'At least I am finishing', he thought sourly.
"Potter!" Snape shouted in front of the class, startling half of the students who were too focused on preparing the potion. "What do you think you're adding to that potion?" He asked as he took long steps to the back of the classroom where Harry had found himself a desk. With a low groan, Harry turned to look at their professor who had stopped in front of his desk. Harry could see Hermione tensing up just one chair in front of him.
"Lovage, professor." Harry said calmly, even though he wanted nothing more than take the cauldron and spill all its content on their greasy teacher.
Snape seemed as if he had taken a sip of the concoction, while Hermione fully turned around to look at Harry with surprise. The whole class seemed to stop breathing.
"Two points from Gryffindor for being too curious, Miss Granger, now turn around and focus on your potion." Snape snarled when he managed to control himself. Hermione blushed furiously as she turned around to watch her potion. "And five points from Gryffindor for helping your dim-witted colleague."
Harry's temper flared up and before he could control himself, he was already speaking.
"She didn't help anybody. I knew what I was doing." He said. He thought and added. "Sir."
Surprisingly, Snape only smirked uglily. "Oh, is that so? You think I can't see what you are, but you are just like your father, walking around Hogwarts with his friends as if they owned the place and knew all of its secrets. If you are so smart, Potter, tell me, what should you have added just before the lovage?"
"Sneezewort and scurvy grass, professor." Harry said without even stopping to think. It was definitively better not to think about any insults to his father and his friends.
Once more there was silence in the classroom as Snape seemed to have gotten the shock of a lifetime. He took a few seconds to recompose before speaking again.
"And what would happen if you added it before them, Potter?" Snape asked, his face showing the fury he was feeling.
"It would have become black and eventually exploded." Harry replied, trying not to show his anger as he threw the necessary quantity of lovage into his cauldron. "Which hasn't happened to me, as you can see my potion." He couldn't help but add with gritted teeth.
"Don't forget who you're talking to, Potter. As I can see what?"
"As you can see my potion!" Harry all but shouted. "And you should have said 'to WHOM you're talking', professor."
The whole class watched in awe as Harry very quickly filled two bottles with his potion, leaving one on his table and storing the other in his bag. Snape only managed to splutter indignantly, his face growing progressively redder. When he managed to refocus and shout 'Potter!' at the top of his lungs, Harry had already left the room.
~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~
"... and that's how James and I turned all Slytherin robes white for a whole week." Sirius concluded with a satisfied smirk.
Both Ed and James were almost rolling on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, so hard they were laughing. As usual, after Edward had nicked some food from the kitchens so that he and Sirius could have lunch, Sirius and James started telling the little boy some of their old Marauders' antics.
Ed loved those stories, as they were always filled with magic and nonsense. For him, it was also amusing how the two Marauders seemed so in sync. It was common for James to conclude Sirius' sentences, but as the dog animagus couldn't hear his deceased friend, they both ended up saying exactly the same thing at the exact same moment. The first few times that had happened, Edward had laughed and told Sirius what had happened, but that only made the older man sad. Now, the boy only smirked, deciding against saying anything.
Despite the occasional depressive states Sirius entered, most of these triggered by the fact that he could not see or hear James, the effects from Azkaban were finally starting to reduce. His face didn't look as haunted as it had, and he certainly had put some weight on. He was now able to laugh and have a relative good time, even if those moments were still few and far between. Too few and far between, as far as James was concerned.
After their laughter had quieted down, the three just sat there, enjoying the dessert Edward had gotten them. Well, at least Edward and Sirius enjoyed it, while James only looked at them pouting. There was a soft knock on the door leading to the Willow, but neither of the three got startled. That soft knock could only mean Harry, after all. The boy-who-lived entered the room still sporting a frown. His face was red from running and he was panting heavily.
"Harry, buddy, what's up?" Sirius asked, not that much concerned. He had seen James like that more times than he could count, and it was always something that was making him angry, but not angry enough to make him furious. Remembering his best friend and seeing how much his son looked and acted like him stung, but Sirius chose to ignore it once more.
"Nothing." Harry murmured with finality. 'There the difference is.' Sirius thought with sadness as Harry sat between him and Edward. While James would have just told him, Harry seemed to prefer to close down and pretend that everything was alright.
"Your father is telling you to stop being stubborn and tell us already, Harry." Edward said as he was told to say so. James had stood up and sat right behind Harry, so much so the boy would be sat on his lap had he been material enough. He enveloped his son with his arms, which just hovered over him, and stayed like that, in a perpetual almost-hug. It was a normal occurence, but one that Edward was forbidden of telling the others, even if he didn't really understand why.
Harry looked at the boy for a couple of seconds before sighing heavily. Unbeknownst to him, that only made it seem like he had relaxed into his father's arms which brought a smile to both James' and Edward's faces. "It's Snape, trying to fail me unfairly again."
Sirius cursed loudly, causing Ed to look at him scandalized. Mrs. Henn had been very strict when it came to swearing. James would have laughed at the boy's face, but he was also holding his tongue not to say some colourful stuff about their old greasy colleague.
"We should prank him." Sirius said suddenly. "Make him pay just like the good old times."
While James and Ed smirked, Harry seemed horrified. "No! He hates me as it is. Please, just ignore it, I've dealt with him."
"Why, little Prongs." Sirius seemed confused and pretended to be hurt. "Do you think we are unexperienced?"
At that, James laughed. He shortly stopped, though. "Harry is right, Sirius. Let's leave the slimeball alone, Harry-bear doesn't need him breathing down his neck." He said and Edward dutifully repeated, even the petname, which made Harry blush and feel warm inside. Sirius just pouted and whispered 'spoil sport'.
It didn't take long till Harry stood up and announced he had to head to the Quidditch pit to train, as he was playing against Slytherin on the following day. The weather was terrible, so Wood reckoned they'd better get used to it.
"Edward, please remind Harry of the spell I taught him." James said as he, Sirius and Edward followed Harry outside. As Ed repeated the information, Harry just nodded, softly whispering 'thanks, dad'.
"Hey, Harry, can I watch your practise? Pretty please?" Edward asked. "I promise I'll stay under the invisibility cloak."
"Sure, why not." Harry said awkwardly. Was this the feeling an older brother got when they had their little brother around? Harry wasn't so sure, but he certainly liked the feeling, despite what Fred and George (or rather Percy, for that matter) had told him.
"Off you go, then." Sirius said with a smile. We really wanted to follow them and watch Harry practise, or even better, mount a broom and actively help him, but he thought he should spend his time trying to find 'it'. He knew that Pettigrew loved the rain, all Marauders did, so a day like this would be a good day to find him.
Soon enough, the boys left, leaving Sirius alone. Or at least as far as he could see. The dog animagus went back to the Shack to clean it up in case someone entered it while they were out. As he finished tidying the room up, he sat on the bed and stared blankly ahead. He didn't know it, but James had stayed behind and was currently sitting right next to him, looking at him with concern.
"Prongs..." He whispered softly, his gaze not changing, still focused on the floor. "I don't know if you are here, but..." He let his head lower a little bit, his long hair hiding his face. "I just wanted to say I really miss you. Every single day. I would give anything in the world to have you here." James could only stare at his best friend with deep sadness. "You were my life before you died and... and... I don't know, Prongs. I need- I just need you. Because I love you, James. You know I do. I have always, and I always will, until the very end." Sirius said, a single tear rolling down his face.
James concentrated as hard as he could, ignoring the ache on his heart from hearing his best friend so broken because of him. He slowly approached him and ran his fingers through Sirius' dirty hair, who immediately and subconsciously leaned into the touch, finally showing a couple of tears that had escaped his control. James couldn't hold the touch for long but it was enough for Sirius to feel his presence and hold on to it for some time. They stayed there for almost fifteen minutes, both of them trying to hold their tears, before Sirius stood up to continue his search.
~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~JPSB~*~*~*~
The rain had been merciless on the Gryffindor players, but it certainly hadn't been as merciless as Oliver Wood. By the time Harry had finished his training, he was sore all over his body and he could bet that even his soul was wet. He wanted nothing more than freshen himself up, have dinner and just go to bed just like his Quidditch mates, but Dumbledore had asked him for a visit after dinner and he didn't know how to say no. So, when everybody left for their Common Rooms, Harry went to Dumbledore's office instead.
The gargoyle seemed to be waiting for him, as it stepped aside as soon as the haven haired boy got close enough. He didn't even stop before climbing up the stairs and softly knocking on the wooden door.
"Come in, Harry." The old headmaster's voice came from inside the room.
As Harry opened the door, he could see Dumbledore sat on his chair and Fawkes perched on his arm. The older man gestured for Harry to sit, which he did calmly.
They sat there in silence for a good few minutes before Harry lost his patience and the long week of hard studying and training got the best of him.
"Sir?" He said, a bit louder than he expected, causing Dumbledore to focus on him, a curious look on his face. "I'm sorry, sir, but did you want to talk to me?"
"Oh, yes, Harry, I did, indeed." The headmaster smiled at the Boy-who-lived who just stared back at him. "I just wanted to know if you have ever heard the whole story of Hogwarts."
Harry blinked. Had Dumbledore gone completely mad? He had called Harry to his office to discuss hogwash? Or rather, Hogwarts? "I'm not sure, sir, I mean, Hermione has told me some stories, but..."
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger must have enjoyed reading about Hogwarts." The Headmaster said with a chuckle. "It is amazing, Harry, how sometimes those who have had contact with magic the longest are the ones who overlook it the most." Harry only nodded, unsure of what to say. He too hadn't had contact with magic before coming to Hogwarts, but maybe he wasn't as curious as Hermione. "Of course, there are some exceptions. Your father and his friends, for instance, knew Hogwarts better than most of our dear professors." The old man added, his eyes shining with mirth.
"Yeah, they really did." Harry said absent-mindedly. Dumbledore visibly changed, his face turning into a light frown, which caused Harry to notice his slip-up. "I-I mean, so I've heard."
"Have you, Harry?" his voice wasn't exactly cold, but it surely wasn't as warm as it normally was. The Headmaster laid both his hands on his table, leaning just a bit forward. "It's nice that someone has been telling you about your parents." His blue eyes were piercing, causing Harry to look everywhere but at the old man.
"Y-yes." Harry could see he was in trouble. What could he say? He hadn't felt that nervous since that morning with Snape. Snape! That was it! "It was professor Snape, actually, professor. He said that my father and his friends walked around Hogwarts as if they owned the place."
This made Dumbledore chuckle again, but Harry could still see curiosity in his eyes. "I wouldn't say that much, but Professor Snape's statement is far from untrue." Harry used the relief of not having to lie anymore to ignore the anger of having those things said about his father, not to mention Sirius and Remus. "Yes, your father and his friends knew Hogwarts very well. Of course there are many secrets that Hogwarts kept to itself. Tell me, how much of Hogwart's history do you know?"
"Well," Harry said, trying to remember Hermione's persistent quotations of Hogwarts: A History. "It was founded around a thousand years ago by Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin."
"That's correct." Dumbledore said, nodding. "The Four Founders, as they were known back in my time, used their stunning magic to, together, raise Hogwarts. There simply isn't one part of Hogwarts that isn't touched by their magic." Dumbledore stood up, causing Fawkes to fly and land on the table, where it stayed, carefully watching Harry. "They made it so that the castle responded to them, and only them."
The old headmaster stood and slowly moved near one of the bookcases, absentmindedly passing his finger on the books there. Harry was too far away to actually read their names, but he imagined he wouldn't be able to understand any of those topics. He watched as Dumbledore seemed to give up on trying to find a specific book and settled on just randomly picking them up and flip through them before putting them back where they were. Finally, he continued speaking as he opened another book. "It was an interesting piece of magic. They were the best wizards and witches of their time, that's not questionable. They were, however, able to foresee issues the school might have in the future, despite their fantastic magic."
Dumbledore finally stopped going through the books and turned to look at Harry, who watched the old man back with curiosity. "You see, Harry, the Founders realised that, if the castle was bound to them, it would become rather inconvenient to the following Headmasters." Dumbledore moved so as to sit back on his chair, all the while watching Harry and continuing the story. "They decided to bound Hogwarts to their magic. Are you able to see what that means?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry over his glasses, a twinkle in his eyes.
Harry thought hard about the story and his knowledge on magical theory. Once more he felt rather frustrated with his less-than-adequate performance at Hogwarts so far. "No, sir, sorry." Dumbledore only smiled before explaining it to Harry.
"Well, Harry, you see. There has been a lot of studies on how some people are able to perform magic while others simply can't. One of the most accepted theories, one started by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, and one which I tend to agree with, says that magic is, in fact, inherited." At this, Harry got confused.
"But sir, if magic is inherited, how can muggleborns use magic?" he questioned. Dumbledore's smile widened a bit, as if the exploration of this study fascinated him deeply.
"Indeed, this is the argument that some specialists, mainly those who are more... insistent in believing in blood supremacy, use to refute this theory." Harry could see the headmaster's eyes unfocus as he became absorbed by his story. "They don't accept the idea that maybe muggleborns descend from squibs, thus inheriting magic from their common ancestors. Some wizards with special abilities, such as metamorphmagi and glühenfolk, have parents who don't possess such abilities. If these abilities are able to skip generations, why can't magic do the same?"
Harry listened avidly, finally catching up. He was still very tired, but he had recently come to find out that every bit of information was important. He didn't understand either of those special abilities his professor had mentioned and hadn't seemed to be really inclined to explaining, but he was able to grasp the general idea of it. "Is being a Parselmouth one of these cases?" He asked with curiosity. Despite the fact that he didn't really care all that much about it anymore, he was still curious to know where he had gotten it from.
"Ah, I believe so." Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "I thought you might ask me this."
"Professor Dumbledore, was my father a parselmouth too?" Upon hearing about James, Dumbledore perked himself up and locked his eyes with Harry's. Harry was about to consider asking his new friend about it when Fawkes croaked indignantly, startling both Harry and, surprisingly, Dumbledore. Both of them watched the bird with curiosity, but, while Harry's was a normal curiosity, Dumbledore's had a more annoyed tone to it. The old man turned his attention back to the boy, but Harry was still focused on the bird.
Dumbledore sighed before continuing. "No, Harry, I don't believe there has been a parselmouth Potter. Before you, that is." Harry turned back to his old Headmaster.
"Is it possible that I inherited it from my mum then?"
Dumbledore smiled, but it was a sad smile, which confused Harry a little bit.
"One day we might find out." He said. Harry thought about everything he had been told while staring at one of the silvery gadgets on the Headmaster's table, while Dumbledore just patiently waited.
"Okay, sir, so, you were telling me about the founders of Hogwarts?"
"Indeed." The old man said, with a chuckle. "Like I said, the founders bounded Hogwarts to their family magic, thus making their heirs the only ones who could modulate Hogwarts' own magic."
"Hold on, professor." Harry interrupted, remembering something. "Does that mean that Voldemort can control Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore smiled as if he were glad that Harry had asked him that. "Under normal circumstances, yes, Voldemort would be able to control some parts of Hogwarts. But you cannot forget what happened. Slytherin, Voldemort's ancestor, left Hogwarts. He was seen as... too unstable, or maybe too prejudiced by the other founders. According to what is known, Slytherin had two children: A younger girl, Corruptella, who shared her father's views and was perceived as even more volatile and judgmental than her father, and an older boy, who was calmer and didn't really accept his father's views on muggles." Harry listened to every word, full of curiosity, his exhaustion completely forgotten. Dumbledore spoke about that story steadily, as if he had heard, and told, that same story many times before. "After Slytherin's death, his son felt afraid of what his sister could do to Hogwarts. He then sought Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, by then Ravenclaw had already passed away, and renounced Slytherin's known control of Hogwarts. I should give emphasis to known because, as you know very well, Voldemort still controlled the Chamber of Secrets with his magic, that is, parseltongue." Harry waited for the old man to continue, but Dumbledore seemed to be lost in thoughts again.
"Let me guess, professor, Voldemort is Slytherin's daughter's descendant?" Harry said with a little bit of contempt, making Dumbledore chuckle.
"Sadly, no, Harry." This surprised Harry. "Slytherin's son's children were probably taught not to judge muggles, but it is very possible they, or their descendants, were corrupted by those who shared Slytherin's views. No, Voldemort descends from Slytherin's son. After all, Corruptella hadn't had a child before she died, as she died during her early adulthood."
"How did Corruptella die?" Harry asked with curiosity.
"She was killed by Gryffindor's son. Gryffindor's son found out Corruptella had been killing muggleborns who were destined to be Hogwarts students. They duelled and he ended up having to kill her. It's the same old story, really. They had dated for a while, probably even loved each other, but ended up on opposing sides of a war."
Dumbledore seemed sad as he said that, as if remembering something from the past.
After this, both teacher and pupil fell silent. It wasn't until five minutes later that Harry broke silence. "So, only Gryffindor's, Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's descendants can use magic on Hogwarts?"
"That would be incorrect to say, Harry. You see, the Headmaster and their Deputy have the permission to use magic on Hogwarts." Dumbledore answered calmly. "We can activate old, unused Hogwarts magic, add more protection to it or even remove those protections that were put by other Headmasters. What we cannot do, and only those who have founders as their ancestors can, is control its magic, make it do what they want it to do." Dumbledore sighed with a small smile on his face. "As I have told you before, I have been at Hogwarts for more years than most of your professors have of age, and I still don't know all of Hogwarts' secrets. A true descendant of the founders just had to ask the right way and Hogwarts would open all its secrets to them."
"Wow." Harry said in awe. He couldn't imagine knowing all of Hogwarts' secrets. The castle was gigantic and full of secret passages and rooms. "When was the last time that there was a descendant of the founders at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Not considering Voldemort, that is." Harry added after an afterthought. Harry, too absorbed by his curiosity, didn't see Dumbledore sit up a bit straighter.
"Well, yes, not long ago there was a descendant of Gryffindor at Hogwarts." Dumbledore said.
"Who was it?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Oh, you didn't actually know him. He has passed away already." Dumbledore said, his eyes becoming sad.
"Oh. That's a pity." Harry said, actually feeling sad for that. He would love to meet the heir of Gryffindor. It was probably a strong, courageous person.
"Don't pity the dead, Harry. Maybe this man's child is at Hogwarts right now. What do you think?" Dumbledore asked. Somehow, the way the old Headmaster asked this made Harry nervous. Yet, the young boy thought about his friends, not thinking about anybody who could be suitable for being Gryffindor's descendant.
"I can't think of anyone, sir." Harry said. His discomfort grew as he saw Dumbledore's eyes narrow just a tiny bit. "What about the other founders?" Harry asked, eager to change topics. Dumbledore relaxed a bit, but Harry still felt tense.
"Rowena didn't have grandchildren. Her only daughter died before she had children. I'm afraid Ravenclaw doesn't have descendants. As for Hufflepuff's descendants, they don't live in the UK anymore. Around five hundred years ago, most of them moved to the U.S.A., where they have helped establish another magical school there. Those who stayed ended up spreading around the world. They apparently shared Hufflepuff's liking for trips. All in all, not one single Hufflepuff descendant has attended Hogwarts in the last hundred years. I believe the last Hufflepuff descendant attended Hogwarts with me." Dumbledore said. He then stared at Harry again, who felt himself squirm under the old man's gaze. When he noticed the Headmaster was staring into his eyes again, he decided to break the eye connection before that weird thing happened again.
"Is that all you had to talk to me about, professor?" Harry asked as he changed his focus to the window.
"I would also like to ask you something, Harry, if you don't mind." the old man said, making Harry look at him again. "How are you doing?"
Despite being confused by the question, Harry decided to answer it.
"I'm alright, professor. Studying a lot and preparing myself for the game tomorrow." Harry said, feeling uncomfortable under the old man's stare. He somehow couldn't break eye contact, and that made him want to leave the room immediately. When he was about to voice his discomfort, Fawkes once more abruptly croaked loudly, sounding frustrated and annoyed. Again, both Harry and Dumbledore immediately snapped their eyes towards the Phœnix and Harry felt somehow calmer.
"Why, our friend is a bit restless today." Dumbledore said, exasperation clear on his voice. Fawkes was glaring at some point right by Harry's left side, oblivious to his owner's anger.
Despite everything, Harry saw the chance he had and decided to use it. He stood up hastily. "Well, professor, I have to go. It is late and I have a game tomorrow. If you will excuse me."
Without even waiting for an answer, Harry moved towards the door. As soon as he grabbed the doorknob, though, Dumbledore called. "Harry, wait,"
The boy tried not to flinch. He was about to be chastised for giving a professor his back, but he couldn't care about it he just wanted to leave. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he wondered why he was feeling like this around Dumbledore of all people. Still, he didn't turn around and just waited. "Please, remember that, if you have anything to tell me, anything at all, I'll be here, okay?" Harry gulped before answering.
"Okay, professor. Good night." As Harry passed through the door and was about to close it, Dumbledore called him again. "Harry," This time he visibly flinched, feeling grateful that he was outside the office, thus out of the Headmaster's sight. He waited, again without looking at Dumbledore, but not closing the door either. He heard Dumbledore sigh.
"Farewell, Harry."