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Chapter Text

Severus Snape flipped through the binder, stared at the blasted Potter Spawn and his… “And who are you to Potter?” he asked the olive-skinned woman staring at him with uncanny grey eyes.

“I’m his adopted parent,” Tessa Dare said evenly.

“And you live here with your ex-boyfriend.”

“And his current boyfriend and Harry, of course,” she said like that wasn’t the strangest thing he had ever heard before.

And Potter’s living situation wasn’t even the worst of it. “And Potter has Broca’s aphasia.” The words came out awkwardly and Severus hated that. At least he had stopped by his local library to borrow a computer so he wouldn’t sound like a complete dunderhead. Merlin knew what this conversation would be like if Dumbledore were the one here.

“Yes. It’s a neurological condition in which he has the ability to comprehend spoken language, rather well in his case, but he has difficulty speaking.”

“And he developed this condition when—”

“Likely when his aunt hit him in the head with a frying pan when he was four.”

Severus suddenly wanted firewhiskey. Of course Albus had left the Potter Spawn with Petunia. Why not make the worst decision of worst decisions? Merlin, he would have taken in the Potter Spawn, if only to spare Lily’s son. “Where is his aunt right now?”

“In prison, with her husband, for child abuse and child neglect. Now, can we talk about how these letters are getting to our house and why they’re incredibly specific about where he sleeps.” Tessa Dare pinned him down with steely eyes and Severus wished he had very strong firewhiskey with him right now. Next to her, the Potter Spawn lifted his head from his notebook and nodded vigorously.

Still reeling over Tessa Dare’s interrogation, Severus stormed up to Albus’ office. The blasted old man looked up from his desk when Severus threw the door open. “Ah, Severus, dramatic as always. How is Mr. Potter doing?”

“You left him with Petunia Evans,” Severus said flatly.

“Petunia Dursley, I believe. She married. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman now.”

“She hit him on the head with a frying pan when he was four.”

“Oh dear. I trust there was no lasting damage?”

Severus would have felt smug telling him Potter had Broca’s aphasia if Potter didn’t have lasting brain damage that would affect him for the rest of his life. “How is your Boy-Who-Lived going to cast spells.”

“Oh dear.”

Albus’ solution was to get Potter to Hogwarts and hope for the best. Which meant he was sending Severus to bring Potter to Diagon Alley. “Potter is famous,” he warned Tessa Dare.

“For being in the same room as this evil wizard when he died,” she said. “Yes, I remember. It’s absolutely ridiculous. He was a baby. How do you know Potter is the one who killed him? Were there witnesses?”

“No,” Severus said curtly. “But you don’t need witnesses for wizards to believe something the Daily Prophet writes.”

“That’s ridiculous. Also, there’s a brilliant invention we have called concealer.” With that said, she left the room.

The Potter Spawn stared at him. Severus stared back. He offered a toothy smile and turned his notebook over. It was a pencil sketch of a man with shoulder length hair and black robes billowing out behind him.

“That’s a nice picture,” Severus said evenly, careful to not talk down to the boy. Tessa Dare had assured him that Potter would understand everything he was saying even if he had difficulty responding.

Turned out, not so hard. The Potter Spawn flipped through a stack of coloured cards until he found a dark green one. He held it up to Severus. Thank you, it said in big, white printed letters.

Tessa Dare returned with a small bottle. She knelt in front of the Potter Spawn and the boy took off his glasses and brushed his bangs up. She squeezed a peach-coloured substance onto a finger and rubbed it over the scar until it was covered up. “Ready to go?” she asked him.

After about a minute, the boy said, “Go.”

“Go get your money.” Tessa Dare waited for the boy to leave the room before turning to Severus. “He’s not broken. Don’t you ever dare treat him as broken.”

Severus was beginning to see that. “I won’t.”

Chapter Text

There were so many people. Harry looked at four tables of students, teachers at the front, kids around him. He didn’t belong here. These were people who grew up with friends. They spoke to the people sitting next to them. They laughed and joked. Harry had always had his family, and, until now, he had never felt the loss so keenly.

Professor McGonagall revealed a hat, and it started singing. Even the hat could talk. Wistfully, Harry imagined striking up a conversation with the nervous black-haired boy next to him. What would they talk about? Would they have been friends in another life?

“Potter, Harry!”

Nervously, Harry walked forward and took a seat. The hat fell on his head and covered his eyes.

Hmm. You have courage to come here despite your fears, Mr. Potter. Not a bad mind either. You have potential to be great.

I don’t want to be great. I only want to draw a story. He wanted to draw stories about heroes and winning against impossible odds. And one day, he wanted to draw his own story and tell his family he loved them for never making him feel like unworthy, for caring, for being there when he needed them, for wanting him when his aunt and uncle never had. He wanted to talk to them in a way his mouth never could.

You’ll do well in SLYTHERIN!

The hall was dead silent for a second until the green table started clapping. Harry handed the hat to Professor McGonagall and glanced at Professor Snape. He looked as dour as he did when he visited, but he jerked his head towards the Slytherin table. Harry darted off and took a seat next to the blond girl that had been sorted to Slytherin right before him.

After the sorting ended, food appeared on the table and chatter filled the Great Hall. The black-haired girl turned to Harry and offered a sweet smile. “I’m Pansy Parkinson.”

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. After too long of a pause, he said, “Harry.”

Her grin widened a little. “Yes, I think everyone in this room knows that.”

Harry winced. The fame was the strangest thing so far. He didn’t understand why he had survived the killing curse and why simply surviving led to authors writing his name in books. Most of them weren’t even true!

“You’re not fond of being famous?”

“Weird.”

“Oh. The fame is new to you?”

Harry nodded. He wished she would stop trying to talk to him and go away, and after a few more attempts at conversation, she huffed and turned to the blond boy next to her.

Potter was in his house. James Potter was probably turning over in his grave. Part of Severus wanted Potter to be someone else’s problem, but at the same time, he didn’t want to think about how Minerva or Pomona or Filius would try to handle Potter. Of the four of them, he was the only one with any experience in the muggle world. The rest of them probably didn’t even know what a frying pan even was.

Severus gave his usual speech to the first years about being loyal, keeping house conflict in-house, and so on. He watched Potter go up the stairs with the other boys and hoped rooming Potter with Draco and Zabini was a good idea. He had wanted to put Potter with Crabbe and Goyle at first because the two of them probably had a single neuron put together (yes, he read a few books about neuroscience. So what?), but he didn’t want Potter to think he was being treated like an idiot.

Severus swept off to his office. He needed to figure out a plan for Potter to learn spells and do homework and finish his first year. The plan to keep Fudge from realizing the Boy-Who-Lived had a brain injury had taken longer than he expected to put into place, and now he was expected to go to Lucius and Narcissa’s next winter gala instead of spending a blissful night in his lab. He needed... Severus saw a man sitting in one of the chairs, reading the newest article from the International Potions Archive. Red eyes looked up to meet his. “Severus, it’s been a while.”

Fuck.

Chapter Text

“My lord,” Severus greeted stiffly. He bowed deeply.

“Severus, always so formal. Sit. This is your office after all.”

Severus straightened his body and took a hesitant seat in his chair. The Dark Lord didn’t seem like he was going to attempt to crucio him. However, Severus wasn’t some Griffindor dunderhead who would think this meant he was safe. “You look well, my lord.” Very well, for a dead man. Severus itched to check his arm to see if the dark mark had darkened.

“Did you think that I had perished that fateful night?”

“Of course not. I’ve been gaining Dumbledore’s trust while I awaited your return.”

“And to avoid Azkaban.”

Severus didn’t deny it.

“You’ve always been clever. Tell me, what is your impression of Harry Potter? You’ve been to his abode twice now, and there is a Potter in Slytherin for the first time in three hundred years.”

The Dark Lord had been back long enough to follow Severus. And he hadn’t noticed. Shit. Shit. “He’s living with muggles,” Severus said, his voice steady and calm. He hadn't been a Slytherin for nothing. “I’ve only met the woman but she has two flatmates. She informed me he has a neurological condition that impedes his ability to speak and write.”

“What is the old fool doing to help Potter learn spells?”

Severus gritted his teeth. “Nothing.” He was pretty sure Albus had forgotten that Potter needed help. Either that or he had grown so used to magic fixing everything that he couldn’t fathom not having a magical cure on hand.

“How fascinating. What are the chances Dumbledore will remove Potter from his muggle home and place him in a more protective household?”

He hadn’t thought of that. How had he not thought of that? He had been too focused on Fudge. Shit. Severus wanted Potter to stay with the horrid woman, if only because he needed her to help him figure out how to help Potter learn magic. If Dumbledore removed Potter, he could watch her cooperation disappear like a child’s common sense the moment they were sorted into Gryffindor. “I don’t know. He hasn’t mentioned any such plans to me.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll pay his guardians a visit.” The Dark Lord placed the journal on the desk. “And, Severus, do avoid telling anyone I’m back.”

Severus watched him leave and hoped Potter would still have parents the next day.

At five in the morning, Severus found himself standing outside the residence. It wasn’t that he was worried. He had schedules to hand out, classes to teach. This was the only time he was available. (He refused to think about the fact that he could have waited until the weekend when he had two days free from the brats.)

The flat looked relatively intact. There was no dark mark floating in the sky. That was good. Through the window, he could see shadows moving, which meant there were living people inside. That was an even better sign.

The door opened and Tessa Dare scowled at him. “Why are you standing outside this early like a stalker. Has something happened to Harry?”

“I thought you would appreciate an update before classes start,” Severus said smoothly. “He’s been sorted into Slytherin.” And the Dark Lord is back and has taken an interest in him. The headmaster has no plan for accommodating Potter and neither do I. Other than that, Potter is fine.

“The ambitious house.” She nodded. “Not surprising. He’s always wanted to draw. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“If you please.”

Tessa opened the door wider for Severus to enter and poured him a steaming cup. “I’m afraid I have to go to work soon, but is there something else you need? You don’t seem like the kind of person to make house calls to reassure parents.”

“Yes, I was wondering if you had suggestions for us to help Potter. This is the first time Hogwarts has had a situation like this, and we’re a bit unprepared.”

She stared at him. “You visited us over a month ago and you’re waiting until the first day of class to ask this question.”

“We’ve been looking into possible magical medical treatments,” Severus lied. He made a mental note to actually do some research on the subject and see if there were any obscure texts that would help the healers do something. Neither Madam Pomfrey nor the healers at St. Mungo’s had even heard of aphasia before.

“And?”

“And I’m sitting here for a reason.”

She sighed. “We’ve done multiple types of speech therapy, art therapy, etcetera. This is how far we’ve come. Give him some time and he can talk in short phrases. Is he going to be able to say your spells? I can’t tell you that. The most you can do is be patient and understanding. Give him time. Give him a place to practice his exercises at night since he feels self-conscious doing them around people he doesn’t know. That’s really all I can say. So what’s going to happen now?”

“I work with him and make sure his needs are met.” That sounded nice but Severus had no idea how he was going to manage it. He changed the subject before Tessa Dare could ask for specific details. "I was also wondering if you had any strange visitors recently. While it hasn't gotten out that you've been Potter's guardians for the majority of his life, it might, and I'm concerned about your privacy."

"No." Tessa Dare frowned. "Do you think our safety is an issue?"

Yes, you idiotic woman! "Maybe. Would you mind if I warded your house?"

She glanced at the clock. "Go ahead. Walk me through the...wards."

On the first day of class, Harry woke up at six, not because he was naturally a morning person but because he was desperate to avoid conversations with his housemates. No, he couldn’t avoid them forever, but he just wanted some time to prepare himself.

It took him a while to find his way out of the dungeons to the Great Hall. There were a few students in all the houses, but for the most part, the Slytherin table was open. He took the same seat he had yesterday and brought out his sketchpad.

Professor Snape swept into the Great Hall about half an hour later. Harry itched to ask him how he made his cloak billow like that. He came to a stop in front of Harry and flicked his wand, muttering “Muffilato.” At Harry’s curious look, he explained, “It’s a muffling spell to prevent people from hearing us.” Professor Snape handed Harry a piece of paper. “Your schedule. First class starts at nine. Don’t be late. I understand that we need to make accommodations for you, but, unfortunately, the staff is still working on figuring out the best way to help you learn. I haven’t told any of your housemates about your condition. Do you want me to?”

Harry’s first instinct was to say “Yes.” He had the dark blue card ready, but he hesitated for a moment. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? To have Professor Snape explain so he wouldn’t have to. He wanted to avoid the pity or horror that appeared on faces when they heard about his condition. He wanted to avoid the “I’m so sorry” responses and the assumption he was a burden on everyone around him.

But at the same time, he wanted to see who was disgusted and who pitied him and who would continue treating him as just another boy, and he couldn’t do that without seeing their reactions. Harry steeled himself and showed Professor Snape the dark red card. “No.”

Professor Snape’s face didn’t reveal anything. “Very well,” he said curtly.

Professor Snape would make a wonderful comic book doublecrossing spy. Harry made a mental note to think about this some more when the tall man wasn't looming over him.

Chapter Text

He had a feather to float for charms, but he still couldn’t make his mouth say Wingardium Leviosa. He had a twelve-inch essay to write for History of Magic due next week, and he didn’t know where he was even supposed to begin with that. Professor Quirrell seemed to despise him and Harry didn’t even know why. He had no friends and the whispering was getting to him and he really, really wanted Tessa. He would settle for closing the drapes around his bed and hiding from the eyes of everyone who expected something great from Harry Potter, the survivor of the killing curse.

But the dungeons were extensive, and he found himself surrounded by stone hallways, that looked familiar and unfamiliar because the everything down here looked the same. Ten minutes of wandering around with not another soul in sight, not even the Bloody Baron, who Harry wanted to figure out how to capture on paper, he saw a tall, hooded figure, either an adult or an upperclassman. There were no lights, except for a small white globe floating by the stranger’s head, casting a pale light on the room to give it a ghostly look. He sat alone in a room with broken desks and chairs and plants growing in the corners, having somehow lived in the absence of light. A book and inkwell floated in front of them as they wrote in the book with a quill. The stranger’s head was bent, and Harry could not see their face.

Harry stared at the stranger for a moment. He could go up and ask for directions if the stranger had the patience to wait for Harry’s words to come out. Or he could continue to look for the common room. Harry decided on the latter, venturing off to the maze of corridors again.

Half an hour later, he found himself looking at the stranger again. Harry wanted to cry in despair. How had he managed to go in a circle? He was tempted to go off on his own again but he could hear Tessa’s voice in his head. The strongest power you have is the ability to ask for help.

A little scared, Harry went up to the stranger. He was working out what he wanted to say and trying to get the words to come out of his mouth when blood red eyes met his. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he would have scrambled backwards had his legs continued working.

“Mr. Potter.” His voice clear and cold, every syllable harsh and unforgiving.

Everyone at Hogwarts knew his name. Likely everyone in the British Wizarding World over the age of five knew his name. But knowing and being confronted with the fact by a red-eyed terrifying man were two completely different things and Harry’s mind blanked.

“Is there something you needed?” he asked when Harry failed to speak.

“Lost,” Harry managed like an idiot as he continued to stare at the frightening red eyes.

“Are you lost or are you trying to become lost?”

Why would anyone want to be lost? “I lost.” The moment Harry heard his words, he knew that what he said had a different meaning, like he had not won something, but it didn’t help him figure out how to say exactly what he meant.

It didn’t matter though. The man smiled, a cold smile that made goosebumps break out on Harry’s arms. “The dungeons can be confusing to first years. Would you like me to guide you to your Common Room?”

He really just wanted directions and to escape the gaze of this strange man, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Yes.”

The man placed the quill in the inkwell and floated his belongings to a table missing a corner. He stood up and Harry could see that the chair was the only thing of good condition in the room, an imposing black colour that seemed to suck in light from the globe. The man waved his wand and the chair turned into a wooden stool tipped to the side. The light globe winked out and smothered them in darkness. Harry fled to the safety of the light.

The man’s stride was long and Harry found himself running every third step to keep up. The man did not bother to slow down, but Harry was sure that he knew Harry was struggling to keep up. Five minutes later, he stopped in front of a blank wall. (Five minutes? Really? After all the time he spent down there? Was this magic?) “Your password, Mr. Potter.”

Boomslang. It was boomslang and he opened his mouth, trying to force his mouth and vocal cords and brain to work. It worked as well as all the other times he tried to say a foreign word without something just clicking in his brain.

Red eyes met his for a brief moment, and the stranger said, “Boomslang.”

How did the stranger know the password? If he knew the password, why did he want Harry to say it?

Harry ran inside. Professor Snape was there and he turned a shade paler when he saw the man. Harry turned his head just in time to see the man leave and the stone wall close.

“Mr. Potter, my office,” Professor Snape said, nodding at the closed door.

Harry bit back a sigh and went through. No doubt Professor Snape wanted to talk to him about his shoddy performance on the first day. He sat stiffly in one of the wooden chairs in front of the large desk with piles of paper and waited.

Professor Snape swept in a minute later. “The other professors and I spoke about your circumstances. First, I understand you had some difficulty with charms. We start first year charms with Wingardium Leviosa. Why? What is it about these two words that can levitate feathers? Why is it the more you practice, the better you can do spells?” Professor Snape took out his wand. “Watch.” He waved his wand at the feather and it flew off the table without him ever saying a word.

Harry watched, enthralled. He could do that too. He didn’t need words. He could be a wizard.

“The sentience of magic is heavily debated, but we know this much: magic remembers magic. We’ve been using Wingardium Leviosa for hundreds of years to make things float, so it’s an easy spell for first years to learn. After the first time students see a spell done, they know it can be done. After the first time students perform a spell, they know they can do it.

“Magic and belief have always been interlinked, and you need both to succeed. Believe, Mr. Potter, and make that feather float.”

Chapter Text

After Professor Snape dismissed Harry, he struggled with Wingardium Leviosa for a while. The feather twitched and rolled across his bedspread, but no matter what he did or how much he concentrated, it refused to disobey gravity and float. Frustrated, Harry set aside his wand and turned to his sketchpad instead. Instead of essays, Harry was allowed to turn in a “visual representation demonstrating sufficient understanding of the material, to be graded on a case-by-case basis.” There were half-finished sketches of the goblin wars from History of Magic because Professor Binns spoke too fast for Harry to draw. Which one should he turn in? How much bloodshed could he include before Professor Snape called his guardians? Harry flipped through his history textbook, searching for the Battle of Bloody Hills.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Harry lifted his head up to see Malfoy dramatically enter.

Grey eyes met his and Malfoy inclined his head at Harry. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. I am Draco Malfoy.”

“Harry,” he said, unsure if there was a wizard etiquette protocol he had failed to follow.

“I hear you grew up with muggles. Is it true they go to places in giant metal birds?”

Giant metal birds? Aeroplanes, maybe. “Yes.”

“That sounds terrifying. How do they keep it up in the air without magic? Have you ever been in one before?”

Harry nodded.

“Where did you go? Did it take a long time?”

“California. Eleven hours.”

“Eleven hours? That’s a long time. Wizards mainly apparate or use portkeys. An international portkey would take about two minutes.”

Potter – or Harry, if he was fine with Draco using his first name – was the dictionary definition of succinct. He gave short responses, forcing Draco to coax out answers. Pansy had been too irritated to keep trying, but at least he could reassure her that Potter treated everyone like that. One week, Draco decided. He would try being friends with Potter for one week.

Uncle Severus had asked Draco to be nice as though any Slytherin knew the meaning of the word. His parents wanted to know more about the Potter Heir, especially since they were related, but Draco had nothing to say, especially considering Potter just went to sleep instead of introducing himself. At least Zabini had observed proper etiquette.

However, having the favour of the Potter Heir, the Boy-Who-Lived, would grant the Malfoys considerable political power. Maybe, just maybe, that would make having to talk about muggles worth it.

He looked at Potter’s bedspread and saw a blank white page that didn’t quite look like parchment with a grey drawing of goblins in armour, holding longswords, and bodies scattered on a field. “What’s that?”

“History.”

Was that how Potter had stayed awake in History? Draco grudgingly admitted that the drawing was a little wicked. “Do you want to do homework with me? Can you believe that we need ten whole inches for History? And homework on the very first day!”

“Okay,” Harry agreed quietly.

As they worked, Draco snuck glances to Potter, trying to see what he was doing. As far as he could tell, Potter sped through the defence reading because he didn’t bother taking notes. The rest of the time, as Draco worked on the stupid essay, Potter made more details to the sketch with a strange wooden stick with a pointy edge. When the picture was finished, Potter turned the history book and his picture upside down and wrote, from left to right, Battle of the Bloody Plains so that the words faced Draco.

Harry didn’t know how he felt about Draco, but he thought that he could tentatively call the blond boy a friend. If Draco had been thrown off by Harry’s quietness, he hadn’t shown it, instead, chattering cheerfully about the wizarding world all the way until they went to sleep. In a few hours, Harry learned that Draco played Quidditch, which was a game with throwing balls on brooms with points counting for different balls, Draco’s father was part of the wizarding government, Professor Snape was his godfather, and Draco’s family had been in Slytherin for generations. Apparently, his parents had both been Gryffindors according to the books about his life. (Harry still couldn't believe there were biographies about him. He was only eleven!)

“Are you looking forward to any classes?” Draco asked on the way to breakfast the next day.

Harry shrugged. “Potions?” Professor Snape was nice and he didn’t need to use magic in the class.

“You’re lucky to be in Slytherin. Professor Snape hates Gryffindors. He also gives a pop quiz on the first class every year so you should study for that if you want to make a good impression. Are you excited about flying? It’s ridiculous that first years aren’t allowed brooms.”

Right. They had flying today. Which was going airborne on a stick. What if he fell and hit his head and didn’t wake up this time? Harry swallowed and wiped suddenly sweaty hands on his robes.

The black-haired girl Harry had spoken to on the first night was already at breakfast. Harry winced as Draco took a seat beside her. Was she still angry?

But, no, she looked up and offered Harry a sweet smile. “I apologise for overwhelming you during our last conversation, Mr. Potter. I didn’t realise you were living with muggles.”

Harry returned her smile automatically. He hadn’t been overwhelmed because he had didn’t grow up with a magical background, but he didn’t want to correct her. Was he supposed to be overwhelmed? Was there something he was missing?

They made awkward, stifled conversations and Harry almost sighed in relief when it was time to go to class. Transfiguration went better than charms, if only because Harry was focused on waving his wand and chanting the incantation in his mind. His hand itched to record Professor McGonagall’s transformation, but her severe appearance prevented him from even trying. By the end of the hour, Draco and Pansy both had thin silver needles, but his was still a matchstick, albeit slightly pointer.

Herbology didn’t require magic. Harry listened to Professor Sprout introduce plants to them, making quick sketches in his sketchpad. He patted the dirt around the ginseng plant to make sure it was well packed and turned his plant in right as the hour ended.

At lunch, Draco finally couldn’t hold his curiosity back anymore. “Why didn’t you say the spell in Transfiguration?” he blurted out.

Harry thought about pretending that the loud noise of conversation had prevented Harry from hearing the question, but Draco would probably just shout louder next time.

“Can’t,” he admitted. He looked at Draco in the eye defiantly, daring Draco to comment.

“You can’t? Why not?”

“Talk private.”

Draco let it go after that, but Harry couldn’t help but notice both Draco and Pansy sneaking looks at him as he concentrated on eating so he could escape.

They had flying with Gryffindors. Draco was bragging loudly about flying since he could walk, Pansy looked bored, and everyone else was milling around in small groups until the professor came out.

Harry watched his classmates shout, “UP!” and noted in relief that some of them just picked up the broom after a few attempts. When Pansy bent down, he quickly copied her.

As they straddled their brooms, a Gryffindor boy flew into the air. He screamed and flailed, flying higher and higher, until he fell off the broom. Harry watched in horror and pulled out his wand. Wingardium Leviosa, he chanted. Harry almost couldn't believe it when he saw the boy’s descent slow until he landed softly on the grass.

Chapter Text

Harry thought Draco would forget about Harry’s promise to talk later after the excitement of flying. He was wrong.

Draco and Pansy cornered him in the dorm when Zabini was out, waiting with expectant eyes. Harry dug out the binder containing his medical records and turned to a page explaining Broca’s aphasia. He tensed and gripped his pillow tightly as they read the description.

“I don’t understand,” Draco said finally. “I’ve heard you talk.”

“Hard,” Harry explained. He pulled out his coloured cards and showed them the simple phrases printed on each of them. “Cards easier. Don’t work always.”

“Have you seen a healer?” Pansy asked. “The healers can fix everything.”

Harry showed them a dark blue with a white “Yes,” followed by a yellow with black “I’m not broken.” He wasn’t something that people needed to fix. Was he different? Yes. Not a bad different or a good different, just different.

Pansy flinched. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. But how are you going to do the work here?”

“Is that why you were drawing the goblin battle yesterday?” Draco asked. “Pans, it’s incredible. Potter, show her.”

Suddenly shy for some reason, Harry pulled out his sketchpad and flipped to the finished pencil sketch.

“This is amazing.” Pansy’s honesty made Harry blush and he wanted to hide his face. “But how did you write the title?”

“He copied it from the textbook upside down. Does it—is it easier that way?”

Harry hadn’t realised that Draco had been watching him. He lifted “Yes” again. The brain didn’t recognise words upside down. Instead of writing, he was drawing, and that distinction made it all the difference.

“Potter brain damaged.”

Severus hoped Draco hadn’t said it like that to Potter’s face. “The term is neuroatypical,” he corrected. “And I hope you didn’t offend him.” He didn’t relish telling Tessa Dare that his godson had used a slur. Merlin knew she would march into Hogwarts and rip out Draco’s spine. “His condition doesn’t mean you should treat him any differently.”

Draco looked affronted. “Of course not. He’s a wizard.”

“Are you planning on becoming allies with him?” Severus was careful to not use the word “friend.” Draco had swallowed enough of Lucius’ rhetoric to believe that Malfoys had no friends, only tools and allies.

“Father suggested I make his acquaintance.”

“Then you realise you’re going to meet his family one day. His muggle family.”

Draco recoiled. “Muggles are so primitive. They fly in metal birds, Uncle. Who does that?”

Severus couldn’t say otherwise. Draco would be reporting back to Lucius and Severus couldn’t afford to be accused as a muggle-lover, not with the Dark Lord back. “Potter loves his parents and they love him. He doesn’t care that they’re muggles, and if you want to avoid alienating Potter, I suggest you start reading about muggles.”

The rest of the week passed quickly. On Thursday, after Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had called for Harry to stay behind. For a while, he thought that he would be expelled for his underwhelming performance, but all she wanted to do was offer Harry information about his biological father and apologise for her part in placing Harry with the Dursleys. She had seen them, had known they were horrible.

Harry didn’t understand her guilt. She wasn’t the one who had hit him. If there was one thing he had learned from Flynn, his psychologist adoptive father, it was that it was no one’s fault but Petunia and Vernon. He had done nothing to deserve their ire.

In potions, they had a diagnostic exam. Harry didn’t see what was on Draco and Pansy’s parchment, but his was multiple choice and all he had to do was circle the answer. For the practical, they made a boils cure.

Potions was fun. It was like doing magic and science together, following exact rules to make wonders happen. Professor Snape had passed by his cauldron and said a curt “Good job” that made Harry glow for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, the boy that had fallen from his broom days before had melted his cauldron and had to go to the hospital wing. Harry stopped by the hospital wing at lunch to make sure he was okay and struck up a conversation with Neville Longbottom.

Maybe Hogwarts wasn’t so bad after all.

Severus sat in the kitchen of Tessa’s flat, the same place as last time, and he waited for her to put her groceries away. It was his fourth time here, he still hadn’t met the flatmates, and he was a little grateful for that. He didn’t know how he would deal with three Tessas.

He started with the good. “Potter’s doing well in his classes and he caught someone falling.”

Tessa jerked her head up, banging her head on the refrigerator door. She hissed and pressed a hand against her head as she turned around. “What? Why was someone falling? What happened?”

“It wasn’t life-threatening,” Severus added hastily. “There was a flying incident, and a boy fell off his broom. He might have broken a leg at the worst and our healer can fix that. But Harry used magic to stop his fall.”

“Where was the professor when this happened?”

“On the field with them.”

“And why does an eleven-year-old boy have faster reflexes than a professor?”

Severus faltered a little. Why did none of their conversations ever go the way he expected? “I’m sure she would have. These incidences are rather rare and it came rather unexpectedly.”

“Oh. So Harry doing well?.”

“He’s doing more than well,” Severus admitted with grudging pride in his Slytherin. “Nonverbal magic is almost unheard of at his age.” The only case he knew of was the Dark Lord and there was no way in heaven or hell he was going to tell Tessa that. “And the spell he used is dependent on a number of factors. The more mass an object is, the more magic you need to lift it.”

“And a boy weighs significantly more than a feather. What about force? You said the boy was falling, so I expect Harry would have needed to exert considerable upward force to stop the boy’s descent.”

Severus hadn’t expected such grasp of magic from a muggle. “Yes. Force is also a factor. It was a very incredible show of magic. His biological parents had been talented but nothing like this.”

Tessa went back to her groceries. “You knew them?” Her voice was a little muffled but not so much that he could pretend to not hear.

Why had he said anything? “We went to school together.” He bit his tongue to avoid telling her James Potter had been a snivelling dunderhead and his friends had been a wimp, a murderous werewolf, and a traitor who got Lily killed.

Tessa pushed the door shut and leaned against it. “I want to make something clear. Harry isn’t like a son to us. He is our son and we’re his parents. We know his likes and dislikes. We know what he wants for his birthday and Christmas. We’ll do everything in our power to protect him and make him happy. But one thing we don’t know is his biological parents. If he ever wants to know about the Potters, will you speak with him?”

There was only one answer he could ever give her. “Yes.”

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t go searching for the red-eyed man. He had no interest in Red Eyes, not even for art. But Harry was looking for a room to practice his magic, away from prying eyes. It was just his luck that Red Eyes found him.

It took a while but he found the room Red Eyes had been in. It was still the same, not that Harry had expected otherwise. Broken tables pushed to the corner. The broken stool Red Eyes had transfigured his chair back to. No windows and only one door.

Harry had a lantern in one hand and a needle in the other. He sat near the door where there was still some light coming in so he could see and set the needle and lantern on the ground. From his wrist holster, he drew his wand and pointed it at the needle. Professor Snape said that will was important. He needed a match, not a needle, to light the lantern. He needed it.

“Lumos will also help you get light.” The cold voice cut through the air and Harry’s heart tried to escape his chest.

He flinched backwards and banged his head against the wall. Harry scrambled to his feet, not that it helped. Red Eyes loomed over him in the doorway, a hint of a smirk on his face. Harry had a feeling Red Eyes was enjoying this.

How helpful of Red Eyes. But lumos wouldn’t get him a passing grade in transfiguration.

“So your goal isn’t to get light.”

Harry hadn’t spoken aloud. He knew for sure he hadn’t. He couldn’t. And that meant…

“Just a little.”

How did anyone read someone’s mind just a little bit?

“I only see surface thoughts. Don’t worry, Mr. Potter, I’m not digging around your memories. Besides, isn’t this easier?”

Harry didn’t want easy. He wanted Red Eyes out.

“Severus mentioned you were having problems with silent casting. Perhaps I could be of service – but I would need to communicate with you. Unless you have another option, mind reading is all I can do.”

Professor Snape would have told Harry about getting a tutor, right? Harry picked up his lantern and needle. If Professor Snape ended up being mad that Harry bothered him, it would still be better than the collective disappointment he would get from Tessa, Lucan, and Flynn when they heard he spoke to a stranger without a trusted adult to verify his identity.

“Very well. Can you find your common room this time?” That was definitely a smirk.

This was the second time Severus had seen Potter with the Dark Lord. Potter was standing with his body tilted slightly towards the Dark Lord. There was half a metre of space between them. He kept glancing between Severus and the Dark Lord, twitching nervously. No poker face at all, especially for a Slytherin.

“Severus, I was speaking to Mr. Potter about potentially helping him with his silent casting. He’s very concerned about falling behind, and we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we.” The Dark Lord’s voice was mild and calm, not warm but not cruel either. It didn’t fool him.

Severus had a duty to his students, even the dunderheads and especially the Slytherins. The Dark Lord couldn’t be allowed near any of his students, especially not Potter. Yet, if he ruined the Dark Lord’s plans blatantly, he would end up dead, after being tortured until he ended up like the Longbottoms. No, he would need to play this like a Slytherin and a spy.

And Potter would pay the cost.

“Of course,” Severus said and the words came out smoothly. “Mr. Potter, I apologise for not telling you earlier about—”

“Tom. You may call me Tom.”

Severus choked. He was going to die. That was it. They were both going to die. No one was supposed to know the Dark Lord’s birth name. The only reason he knew was because he had spent the ten years of the Dark Lord’s supposed fall learning everything he could. “About Tom,” he heard himself say. “He’s highly skilled in nonverbal casting, and his teachings will be a great aid to your schooling.”

The Dark Lord smirked. “Wait outside, Mr. Potter. I believe Severus wants to go over my plans.”

Potter fled.

“My lord, if you were to tell me your plans, I could be of help,” Severus said carefully.

“I didn’t expect Potter to be so wary, but I suppose I should have. I’m curious, Severus, have you met Lucan yet? Or Flynn?”

Potter’s other two parents. He knew their names only because Tessa mentioned them. How did the Dark Lord know? Had he made contact with Tessa? Severus’ wards should have kept the Dark Lord out, but he couldn’t control what happened outside of the house. “No, my lord.”

“What are their occupations?”

“Tessa is a physician, Flynn a psychologist, and Lucan an insurance investigator.”

“Insurance,” the Dark Lord mused. “He doesn’t seem like the type.” How did he even know what insurance was?

“I wouldn’t know, my lord.”

“You’ll meet him on Sunday.”

Lead filled his body. “My lord?”

“Sundays. That’s when you stop to give Tessa a report on Potter, is it not? I never expected you to be so invested in Potter.”

He was so fucked. They were all so, so, so fucked.

“I do believe Potter is waiting for me. I do appreciate your time and help, Severus. You’ve always been the dependable one.”

As soon as the Dark Lord swept out of his office, Severus activated his portkey to Tessa’s flat. The second-year essays could wait.

The flat was dark, all the lights turned off. No one was home even though the sun had set hours ago. Severus apparated inside with a soft crack and swept the flat for listening spells. Nothing. Gods curse it, where was Tessa? He was sticking a tracking spell on her the next time they met.

Severus portkeyed back to Hogwarts in frustration

“It’s not just about wanting something,” Tom said as he spun his wand in his fingers. “If all we needed to do was want, wouldn’t life be that much easier? There are two other things you need: visualisation and magic. To do a spell, you need to picture results of the spell in your mind and you need enough magic to execute the spell.”

What if he didn’t have enough magic?

“If you don’t have the magic for a spell, there are alternatives, such as runic arrays. You can start learning how to create arrays in your third year at Hogwarts. Now cast a spell.”

Harry pointed his wand at the needle. Wingardium Leviosa. It was the one spell he could do easily.

“Now cast one you have trouble with.”

Harry repeated the incantation to turn the needle into a match. By now he had the wrist movements memorized. The needle turned slightly less point and yellower, but it was clearly not a match.

“Slow down. You’re not at the point where you can cast the spell automatically. Close your eyes.”

Harry hesitated. He was being ridiculous; Tom was helping him! But the nagging feeling screaming at him to stay alert and keep Tom with his sight refused to go away. Tom arched an eyebrow at him and Harry forced himself to close his eyes. His shoulders tensed and he gripped his wand tightly.

“See the needle in your mind. See it turn into a matchstick. Picture the process. The tip of the needle is growing rounder and red. The rest of the needle is becoming yellow. Can you see it?”

It was like a flipbook. A slightly different picture on each page but when he turned the pages quickly, it became a moving picture.

“Don’t open your eyes. See the needle turn into the match. Now cast.”

Harry waved his wand. He opened his eyes to see a perfectly formed match in the place of a needle.

Things didn’t exactly go perfectly after but they were much better. Harry learned all the spells assigned in the past weeks and glowed every time a professor congratulated him on his success.

News of his condition spread through Slytherin like a wildfire through a forest, but to his surprise, other than Longbottom, the rest of the school had no idea that Harry had Broca’s aphasia. Within Slytherin, he had expected ridicule from at least some of the students.

When he brought it up with Draco, Draco just looked at him like he was being an idiot. “You’re a first year doing nonverbal spells. Some of the sixth years still can’t do that.” And apparently, that was enough to solidify his standing in Slytherin.

School was fun. He was doing magic. Draco and Pansy were his friends and they were willing to talk with him rather than talk at him. Things weren’t as bad as he had thought they would be.

It didn’t last.

On Halloween, Professor Quirrell ran into the Great Hall. “Troll! Troll in the dungeons!”

Silence filled the hall for a moment before the students broke up screaming hysterically.

“Quiet!” boomed Headmaster Dumbledore as he stood. “Prefects, please lead your students back to the dorms. Slytherins will stay in the Great Hall. Quirinus, quickly, show us where you found the troll.”

Harry watched everyone hurry out of the Great Hall and chewed a fingernail nervously until Pansy smacked his hand.

Their housemates had broken into small groups, talking in hushed voices.

“Did you do your herbology homework yet?” Blaise asked.

Draco scowled at him. “Really? That’s what you want to talk about.”

“What else? We can’t exactly speculate about the troll when we don’t know anything.”

“How did a troll even get into Hogwarts?” Pansy asked.

“I don’t know, but my father’s going to hear about this,” Draco muttered with a scowl.

They stayed in the Great Hall for hours until Professor Snape came back to them with tired eyes and a limp in his leg. “Back to your dorm,” he snapped and swept out of the Great Hall, his cloak billowing behind him.

The next day, rumours filled Hogwarts. Some said that Professor Snape had duelled the troll and been stomped on. Others said that the groundskeeper had kept the troll as a pet and it had gotten loose. The only thing everyone knew for sure was that Professor Snape needed Madam Pomfrey to heal his leg, Professor Quirrell was in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and defence was cancelled until the headmaster found another professor.

Chapter Text

Severus finally met all three of Potter’s parents the Sunday after Halloween. No one had been home the last two weeks; he had portkeyed multiple times a day until his stomach didn’t even feel upset from the turbulent spinning anymore.

The door was opened just wide enough for Tessa’s whole face to be visible. Tessa’s curly black hair was a wavy mess with half of it up in a ponytail. There were bags under her eyes reminiscent of Quirrell’s and Severus’ leg ached in phantom pain. Half of her face was red with straight diagonal lines on her face like she had fallen asleep on something hard. It was the least put together he had ever seen Tessa. She wore rectangular framed glasses that were slightly crooked on her face.

“Severus,” she greeted with a yawn that she didn’t bother to cover.

“I need to talk to you.”

The exhaustion vanished from her eyes. Tessa straightened and opened the door wider. “What’s wrong.”

Severus took a step into the house before he saw that there were two men inside. One of them was lying down on the sofa with a pillow over his head. The other sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table with black pieces of some kind of tool spread out. He looked up at Severus’ arrival and swept the table clean with a wave of his arm. He climbed to his feet in a quick motion and walked over on quiet steps. “Lucan Mennay.” He held out his hand and Severus shook it once.

“Severus Snape. I’m Potter’s professor.”

“At Hogwarts, yes. Tessa has told me about how much you’ve done for Harry and we very much appreciate how you’ve taken the time to give Harry a safe space.” He offered Severus a warm smile. “Do you mind if we move this away? I think this is the first time Flynn’s slept for more than half an hour in weeks and I don’t want to wake him.”

“It’s fine,” Severus snapped impatiently. The moment they hit the kitchen, Severus told them everything. “You’re in danger. The Dark Lord has taken an interest in you and in Potter.” He’d half-expected to end up in agony from telling someone that the Dark Lord had returned, but the Dark Mark remained dormant. “He’s been watching all three of you. He’s made contact with Potter.”

“Does Harry know who he is or is he in disguise?” Tessa asked.

A wizard would have panicked just from knowing the Dark Lord had returned. Sometimes, Severus thought he could love muggle ignorance. “Potter doesn’t know.”

“What does he want with Harry? What has he been doing? Is he trying to kill Harry? Why haven’t you told Harry?” Tessa shoved a hand through her hair and more curls escaped.

“I don’t know. Right now, he’s been teaching Potter how to cast spells. Potter has admittedly been doing better recently, possibly due to the Dark Lord’s guidance.”

“He’s establishing himself as a figure of authority in Harry’s mind.”

The new voice made Severus’ heart leap before he realised there was no way it was the Dark Lord. The other man walked in and started making tea.

“He’s too old for Harry to consider him a friend but we naturally respect authority figures.”

This man had obviously never taught in a school.

“I want to remove Harry from Hogwarts,” Tessa said and Severus wasn’t surprised. By now, Severus knew Tessa well enough to know that Harry was her first concern. If she could have killed the Dark Lord, muggle healer oath or not, he would be dead by now.

He agreed with her. Except he was a spy, and the ruthless part of him wanted to use Potter as bait. If he told Albus the Dark Lord was back, they could set a trap the next time he came to visit Potter.

“Children should never be pawns in war,” Lucan murmured as though he, a muggle, had read Severus’ mind. Severus reflexively checked his occlumency shields, but they were intact.

“I would never suggest that,” Severus said. “I understand your desire to remove Potter from Hogwarts, but that will not remove him from the Dark Lord’s grasp. Magic has ways of tracking you where ever you go. At least in Hogwarts, he can learn to defend himself against magic.” Except their defence professor had just gone mad and he should probably tell Tessa that.

Right on cue, Tessa said, “I don’t agree with you but I acknowledge that Harry does have a defence class at Hogwarts. What exactly is he learning?”

Severus sighed and settled himself in for a long conversation about Quirrell’s ineptitude, irrational despise of Harry, and hallucination of Severus as a mountain troll. If Tessa somehow agreed to keep Harry at Hogwarts by the end of this conversation, he would declare himself a miracle maker.

Tessa watched Severus leave their flat and she entered the bedroom, collapsing across the foot of the bed. Flynn moved the pillows around to create a backrest for himself on the left and Lucan took the side closer to the door. She let them tug the duvet out from under her and sighed. “I can’t believe you two convinced me to let Harry stay at that bloody school. Are you mad?”

“We don’t know enough about magic to know if changing our names and moving to an agency safe house will be enough to keep us safe,” Lucan pointed out. “I don’t like it any more than you do. We’ll write to Harry and tell him to stay away from Voldemort. Hogwarts will increase their defences. We’ll wait and see.”

Flynn snorted. “You? Wait and see? Did you suffer head trauma in Prague? Tess, did he go to Medical?”

“Yes, I went to the bloodsuckers. I wasn’t even that badly injured.”

“He has two cracked ribs and an enormous bruise on his left leg,” Tessa said, her eyes drifting shut. “We’re not clearing him for a while.” Tessa paused. “Lucan, do you think you can break into Hogwarts.”

“I’d need some kind of information about their magical defences if I can’t see them.”

Tessa would take care of it.

“Tess, what do you think about the hallucinations?” Flynn asked.

“I don’t like it. Is it bacterial? Viral? A neurological problem? I can list a hundred causes off the top of my mind, a hundred more if you give me time to think. It might even be magical. I’d love to see his blood work.”

“Bloodsucker.”

“At least I’m not scared of needles.”

“I’m not scared. You and the rest of medical are just obsessed with poking perfectly healthy people.”

“You’d say you were healthy if you were stabbed with a sword.”

“I seem to remember that happening, what was it, Tessa, five years ago?”

“Uh huh.”

“That was a ridiculous job. Who even uses swords anymore?”

They fell asleep like that, bickering and laughing, relishing the fact that the three of them were home together for once and trying not to feel powerless in the battle their small family had somehow gotten caught up in.

The school owl landed at the Slytherin table at breakfast and Harry undid the string holding the letter to the owl. “Did your parents write to you?” Draco asked curiously.

Harry flashed the blue “Yes.” It was the first letter and a wave of homesickness spread across Harry. Tessa had sent care packages once a month with muggle treats that he could never get here. It was the only way Harry knew they were all fine. None of them would ever risk a letter that could be intercepted.

Harry, we hope you’re having a lovely school year and making new friends. All three of us are home right now, and we miss you. As you may know, Severus has been updating me in person about your progress. We are so proud of you, Harry. However, we’ve received intel that your tutor is a dangerous man. You know who he is. Lucan would tell you to hoard your information and wait to act, but he would also tell you that your safety remains important above all else. We ask that you to cut off all contact with this man. If he attempts to continue talking to you, inform Severus and any other professor you trust. We have heard about the incidence with Professor Quirrell and we will be keeping an ear out. If things become too dangerous or if you want to leave, we’ll come and get you. We love you.

There was no signature but Harry recognized Tessa’s handwriting. She had been talking with Professor Snape? Were they friends? Harry reread the letter. There had to be something about the identity of Tom. You know who he is. There was a strange crease right between who and he on an otherwise pristine paper. If he swapped the phrase around, it turned into e is you know who. Was he reading this correctly? Tom was Voldemort? The man who had tried to kill him as a baby?

Harry was going to throw up.

Draco leaned over his shoulder. “Did you receive bad news from home?”

Harry hastily shoved the note in his bag. “Class,” he said and rushed out even though they had half an hour before Transfiguration. In the empty classroom, he pulled the note out again. What had happened with Quirrell? Not for the first time, he wished he could write.

Maybe if he got a dictionary… Or if he somehow got Professor Snape to tell him what was going on. It had been as easy as it was invasive with Tom.

Voldemort had been in his mind. Harry was definitely going to throw up.

In the next month, more people appeared at Hogwarts. Had Harry seen Voldemort again, he would have willingly walked all the way back to London, but thankfully, that didn’t happen. Something else did.

When Professor Quirrell vanished, the two new free hours were viewed as free time even though they were supposed to “self-study.” The majority of the people actually using the free hours were fifth-years panicking over OWLs and seventh-years panicking over NEWTs. (Why were all the wizarding exams named after animals?)

When Professor Sinistra vanished a week later, the air grew more sombre. Two weeks later, all the professors and most of the sixth and seventh-years were developing bags under their eyes, two healers from St. Mungo’s had arrived at Hogwarts, and the best sixth and seventh-year potion students had been recruited to brew potions in every available room in the dungeons.

On the first of December, Headmaster Dumbledore made an announcement. “Students, it is my disappointment to tell you that the wizarding world has been afflicted by a debilitating disease. We currently do not know the cause. The first symptom is an inability to sleep. If you are experiencing this symptom, please report to the hospital wing immediately. Classes will remain ongoing. Thank you.”

Outrage broke out in the Great Hall.

Severus had stopped making trips to Tessa in fear of infecting her. No quarantine had been issued at Hogwarts; the disease had spread to through the entire British wizarding world in a matter of days. For some reason, only adults were infected but Severus was sure it would not stay that way.

His stores were getting dangerously low. They were making as much dreamless sleep as they could and taking as little as possible to stretch out the stock and to avoid addiction, but even so, they were running out. It was also the only thing the Potions Guild was brewing other than experimental cures that didn’t work.

If they didn’t find a cure, they would all end up like Quirrell. Last Severus checked, Quirrell had forgotten his own name.

Severus didn’t have a choice. He was desperate and maybe a fresh, different perspective would help He opened the first drawer in his desk and lifted the secret compartment to take out a simple lily pendant. “Truth or dare,” he murmured and the portkey whisked him off. Who would ever suspect that Severus’ password would be a muggle children’s game?

He landed in the shadows behind Tessa’s apartment complex, stumbling a little. He covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his robes and knocked on the door with the other hand. At least this time he could tell her the Dark Lord hadn’t made contact with Potter.

Chapter Text

“There’s an incident in Hogwarts I need to talk to you about,” Severus said, his voice muffled by the sleeve of his robes, still held over his face like a dunderhead.

Tessa frowned at him but opened the door to let him in. “What’s going on? Are you feeling sick?”

Severus told her everything. How had it been only a month since this mess started? Infectious disease spreading rapidly through the wizarding world. Symptoms included an inability to sleep, followed by hallucinations and memory loss. The only treatment was an intensely addictive drug but they were running out of ingredients for potions. Worst of all, they didn’t know how the disease was spreading and they had no way to contain it.

Tessa’s stare grew deathly cold. “Let me get this straight. You’re infected with a potentially deadly disease, its method of transmission unknown, and you brought it to a neighbourhood that has shown no signs of infection, potentially transmitting it further.”

Severus knew he hadn’t come to Tessa for a reason, back when he had sense and sleep.

Tessa shut her eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “Here is what we are going to do. I am going to make a phone call. Then, you are going to take me to Hogwarts where we can’t spread the disease to new areas and we’ll talk through more details. Then, I am going to talk to Harry about the Voldemort situation.”

Severus really hadn’t thought this through. He watched Tessa dig out a device and touch lights on the screen. She held the phone to her ear. “M? It’s Dare. Emerald. Is the boss in? No, that’s fine. I need you to take a message for me. I was exposed to a potential unknown disease with pandemic potential. I need to go to Scotland for a while. I need you to send biohazard to my flat. Biosafety Level 4 precautions. Seal off this apartment complex. Put contact tracers on the other people in the building. Keep an eye on the hospitals for patients checking in for severe insomnia.” She paused. “Thank you, sir. Don’t tell Lucan anything until he comes back. Tell Flynn I’m going on a medical conference. I’ll be in contact if I know more. And if I don’t come back… Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry,” Severus gritted out. “I didn’t think this through.”

Tessa’s face softened. “You’re exhausted. I understand. Can you get us to Hogwarts safely?”

He took out the pendant. “Hold on to this. It’s a portkey and it will transport us to my quarters in Hogwarts when I say the password.”

Tessa looked at the white lily and Severus hated the glimmer of understanding that appeared on her face for a brief moment. He activated the portkey and they spun away in a whirlwind. When they hit the ground, Tessa’s face was green. “I can’t believe that’s how you go from place to place.”

Severus sneered purely on instinct.

Tessa sighed. “You said that this disease has been affecting the elderly and slowly spreading to younger people with a clear age gradient. Is this common in the wizarding world?”

“No,” Severus said curtly.

“The next thing that bothers me is the rapid spread. When was patient zero?”

“Halloween.” Quirrell had been the first admitted into St. Mungo’s for severe insomnia.

“Were there any other similar symptoms before this pandemic?”

“No.”

“And where was case zero?”

“Here. It was Quirrell.”

Tessa grimaced. “Have the animals been affected?”

What? “I don’t know. Why?”

“The sudden appearance of a pandemic occurs once in a while, but usually, it’s a mutation in the disease agent that allows it to spread faster between humans and from an animal carrier to a person. It’s possible an infected animal was brought to Hogwarts, it infected Quirrell, and Quirrell infected everyone he came to contact with. This disease agent may be asymptomatic in an animal carrier. In this case, I would try to figure out the animal carrier so we can establish preventative measures on an international scale.

“The other possibility that comes to mind is that you were deliberately targeted. The sudden supply shortage is a rather strange coincidence. Perhaps people across the globe are concerned and buying up all the ingredients just in case.”

Severus shook his head. “No. The moment I realised dreamless sleep was a temporary solution, I immediately tried to buy more ingredients but the shortage had already happened. I could find no sellers, even among less distinguished merchants.” He saw what Tessa was saying. Someone had sent the disease. But why?

“If I wanted to create a biological weapon, I would target the adults first. No adults, no experts.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to see if I get sick and, if so, how long it takes me to show symptoms.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m being perfectly reasonable. The first question I want to answer is, does this disease only affect magical people? If the answer is yes, I want to know, does it affect nonmagical people differently? I also want to get an official timeline. If the disease is spreading before people show symptoms and are hospitalised, there must be an asymptomatic period in which they are still infectious. I need to know how long that timeline is.”

If there was one thing Severus knew, it was the selfish nature inherent in every single person. When was the last time someone had acted out of pure goodwill? Even Albus had only spared him for the promise of a spy. “Why? Why would you do this for us?”

“What’s going to happen when Harry gets infected?” Tessa flashed Severus a smile. “Don’t think I’m completely selfless. I’m here for Harry.”

Harry didn’t know what he had expected when Professor Snape called him down to his office but it definitely wasn’t Tessa. Harry sprinted forward and launched himself at her in a hug.

Tessa caught him with a grunt. “Look at you! You’re so big. Soon you’ll be as tall as Lucan.”

Harry giggled. No one would ever be as tall as Lucan. He was a giant. “You here?” he asked curiously.

“To see you, of course.” She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I missed you so much I decided to come all the way to Hogwarts to see you. And for work too. Do you want to talk to me about Voldemort?”

Harry shrugged, picking at the dead skin on his fingers as intently as he could.

“I’m not mad, Harry. I just want you to stay safe. Have you spoken to him again?”

“No.”

“Has he attempted to contact you?”

“No.”

“That’s really good, Harry. Now, I’m going to be at Hogwarts for a while. If he comes up to you, I want you to walk away and find me. Do you understand me, Harry?”

“What you do?” Harry asked worriedly. What if Tessa yelled at Voldemort and Voldemort killed her?

“Nothing silly, I promise you. Now, do you want to show me everything you’ve seen at Hogwarts so far?”

Harry darted away to run into his dorm and grab his sketchpad. When he got back to the office, Professor Snape had vanished and Tessa had made herself comfortable on a sofa that definitely hadn’t been there before. He snuggled next to Tessa and opened his sketchpad to show her everything he had seen in the last three months, starting with the night sky of the Great Hall.

Severus had expected Tessa to not sleep that night, but she ended up snoring softly on the conjured sofa hours in the late hours of the night, ink smudges on her fingers and face. She had taken one look at the quills and a long-suffering look appeared on her face. No complaint appeared though. Instead, Tessa filled pages with chicken-scratch and ink splatted across like an inkwell had been murdered.

Tessa wanted the healthy students isolated from the sick adults before they tried anything else. They had no ideas for how the disease was transmitted – it wasn’t in contaminated food and water and it wasn’t being passed through sex. There was the possibility of an animal vector. If Severus knew anything about Hogwarts, it was that the rumour mill would soon be filled with something like “that slimy git is eating my owl!”

He just had to first convince Albus to separate healthy students from sick ones, a hopeless cause he had attempted multiple times already.

“I understand, Severus, but this could potentially close Hogwarts. They’ve already been exposed to dozens of people with the disease. They could be carrying the disease. If we send them home, their parents could send them away to a different country, and the disease would spread further,” Albus said, the twinkle gone from his eyes for once. “We have to think about containment, as much as it pains me to say this.”

“Cancel classes. Create a tutoring system. Seventh years can self-study for NEWTs and teach sixth years, who can teach fifth years, and so on.” Severus couldn’t believe it had taken a muggle for him to come up with this alternative. He had grown too used to reaching for magic as the first solution.

“Severus, I never would have imagined you would think your students were capable of teaching.” Albus smiled like he was proud of Severus for reaching some kind of amazing point in his life.

Severus snorted. “They’re all dunderheads who think they’re immortal. But Hogwarts may have taught them something in their time here. The prefects can watch over the students and contact us through a mirror. Or, better yet, we can create a mirror system that allows us to teach without physically being present. Get one or two older students in each class to supervise and demonstrate spells.”

“We could attempt that. However, there is still the bigger problem. We can’t keep using dreamless sleep forever.”

Alarm shot through Severus. “Are you feeling signs of addiction?”

“I haven’t taken it yet.”

“You haven’t taken it yet?” he echoed “You’ve been sick for weeks, Albus. You can’t keep going like this. None of us can keep going like this. We need a solution. We need new information. We need a breakthrough.”

They lived in a world where people could turn into cats and defy physics, but right now, magic couldn't fix anything.

They set up the mirrors in the classrooms on the same day Severus suggested it to Albus. The professors agreed to sequester themselves in their quarters or floo to the hospital wing for dreamless sleep to minimize contact with the rest of the school. Dreamless sleep thankfully had a long shelf life, and Severus pulled the students away from brewing potions once he had completely exhausted his stores.

Severus and Tessa commandeered the Room of Requirement for Tessa to run every test she could think of on his samples, her samples, animal samples, and Potter’s samples. They were about to both go stark raving mad from the strangest results. Why were some animals diseased but others not? What made a kneazle different from a toad?

On the seventh day in a row Tessa slept, the thought hit Severus like a bloody Gryffindor had lost control of his broom and smashed into Severus.

“Magic. It spreads by magic.”

Chapter Text

"Explain," Tessa ordered.

"Every magical being has a magical core inside them. We draw magic from our cores every time we cast a spell."

"I thought you cast a spell with a wand."

"No, the wand is a channel. If you waved a wand, it would do nothing, no matter how good your technique is. There are two things you need to cast a spell: belief and magic. A wizard needs to believe that they can do magic to be successful, but they also need enough magic within them. The wand is a channel for the core, to allow us to direct that magic efficiently.”

“What about the words you say?”

“That’s not related, but magic is…not sentient per se, but it can remember. We teach children verbal spells first because these are the spells that have been used throughout the centuries. This is why Harry was struggling; he jumped straight to nonverbal magic and he didn’t have a…boost, a helper.

“When we use a magical core, there are two ways we can regenerate it. The first is our body: we produce magic naturally, and this refills the core. The second is from the world. We naturally emit magic: the stronger the wizard, the more the emission. And it floats around in the world, mingling with magic from others. When we cast a spell, our cores empty a little, and we can absorb magic from the space around us. But even if we didn’t cast any spells, we still emit magic and take in the magic of others. A quarantine won’t work because we know of no way to keep out magic.

“This is why adults are affected first. Adults have a larger magical core than children. We have more emissions. Magical animals can be affected too. That’s why only some of the animals are affected.”

Tessa nodded. “That’s why I’m not affected.”

“Exactly. You’re a muggle. No magical core to infect.”

“And I can’t be an asymptomatic carrier either.” Tessa’s shoulders slumped down, and Severus realised how tense Tessa had been the last few days. She could go home now. “What kind of an infectious agent is it?”

“What?”

“I assume it’s a magical agent I haven’t heard. Unless it’s some strange virus that could maybe live off magical cells but also survive in the environment long enough to be transmitted from person to person.”

“I thought you would want to leave now that you know you’re safe,” Severus pointed out stiffly.

Tessa shrugged. “First, this is just a theory and we don’t know if you’re right. More importantly, my kid is still here, and unless someone figures out a cure or a way to contain the disease, he’s going to be infected. So what is a magical disease agent?”

“I…don’t know. I’ve never heard of something like this.”

“Okay. Table that for now. Next question. Why hasn’t the rest of the world been affected? Why just Britain?”

“I don’t know.” Twice in a minute. Merlin, he was going to set a new record. “If it spreads by magic, all the wizarding communities should be affected.”

“Either your theory isn’t entirely correct or someone targeted Britain in particular and is limiting the attack to Britain.”

Severus was almost positive it was illegal to bring a muggle to Hogwarts. Even if it weren't, he couldn't risk anyone finding out Tessa was here, not with the Dark Lord somehow entering and exiting Hogwarts without Albus knowing.

Instead, he brought his notes to Albus.

"This is a very intriguing idea," Albus said, as though they were talking about some silly journal article published by an inept researcher more interested in getting his research out in the world rather than doing something real.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Severus said. Tell me someone didn't target Britain's magical population.

"Have you figured out a way to test magic for contamination?" Albus asked instead.

Severus grimaced. "Maybe. The closest device I can think of is dragon glass." Years ago, a witch had created a device forged from the fire of a dragon's breath and the sand surrounding Azkaban. When a wizard cast their magic into the device, the surface of the glass turned colours, showing how powerful the wizard was. The purebloods had lobbied for it to be banned from usage, fearing that it would create inequalities for their less powerful children, or worse, prove the pureblood rhetoric about muggleborns being weaker false.

"Have you tried it?"

"Not yet."

"Have you gone to the Room of Requirement?"

"I tried. I asked for it but the Room didn't work."

"That may be because the Room can't comprehend dragon glass. It is a little-known fact that there are certain things the Room of Requirement cannot create, objects that can only be put together under certain conditions even magic cannot recreate. However, perhaps if I try…"

"No!" He had to say something. Anything. "I can get the device." He could what? "I would rather try it with something real. What if you picture the wrong thing and get a false result? A real dragon glass will work better." Merlin, what was he even saying?

"How long will it take you?"

"Not long."

"Good. In the meantime, I'll try using alchemy to design a device to check magic without revealing the strength of the magical core."

Severus walked out of Albus' office feeling like he was walking to his own death. He had no idea where to even start looking for dragon glass. Perhaps with the creator, but no one knew who the witch was. Rumour had it she had been murdered over her creation.

A terrible idea entered his brain.

No one knew where the Dark Lord was. The Dark Mark only worked one way, allowing the Dark Lord to track his followers but it couldn't be used to find the Dark Lord. Not to mention it was still pale and faded, no change since the night the Dark Lord had supposedly perished.

But the Dark Lord had been speaking to Potter. Severus just needed to know where Potter had been meeting with him.

"You want me to ask Harry to find Voldemort for you." Tessa's grey gaze stabbed Severus.

"No, I just need to try to find him and fast. Potter is my best option right now.”

“How do you know he has this mystical device of yours?”

“I don’t. But the Dark Lord has power beyond what you can even imagine. He drew people to him for a reason. If anyone can find the device, he can.”

Tessa sighed. “I’ll talk to Harry. Harry is not getting anywhere close to Voldemort though.”

“I would never dream of it.”

Tessa watched Severus wave his wand over a piece of paper. It flew away faster than her eyes could follow. Severus left after an abrupt goodbye and Tessa finally let herself slump to the ground. She buried her face in her hands. How did everything get so complicated?

She checked her phone again but it was dead. Even if it weren’t, there would be no messages of course. Hogwarts had no signal and no internet. How were Lucan and Flynn doing? What was happening at work without her? What was she even doing here? Magic and dragons? This wasn’t her world.

Tessa wanted to take Harry and run where Voldemort and infections couldn’t touch them. But no one could run forever.

The door entered and Harry looked around her makeshift lab. He sat beside her and hugged her tightly. “Why you ground?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Tessa said. “I missed you, Harry. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you even though I’m here.”

“Okay. You work.”

“Yes, I’m working with Severus right now. We’re going to find a cure for this disease, Harry. I’m not going to let you get sick. But we need your help. Where have you seen Voldemort at Hogwarts, Harry?”

“Dungeons. I show you?”

Not bloody likely. “No, that’s not necessary. Is it always in the same place?”

“Yes. Room broken things.”

Why was Voldemort in a room filled with broken things in the dungeons? “That’s really helpful, Harry. Thank you. Now, your exams are coming up, correct? Have you been studying?”

“Yes. Draco help. Pansy help. Notes.”

“That’s good. That’s really nice of them. Do you like it here?”

“Yes.”

Room of broken things. This certainly seemed to be a good fit. Severus lit the end of his wand and stepped carefully across the room. There were old tables and chairs so worn down that not even reparo could fix.

Severus almost missed it. He did miss it during his first two rounds around the room, but the glint caught his eye the third time. He stepped towards whatever it was that he had seen. The dark cut out the light in his wand. “Lumos.” He sank more power into it this time, but the light dimmed as it fought with the shadows.

“Lumos maxima.” The light flared just long enough for Severus to see what the darkness was hiding before the dark ate the light.

There was a cabinet hidden in the corner. A vanishing cabinet. That had to be how the Dark Lord was coming and going from Hogwarts without anyone realising. How long had it been there? Who put it there?

None of it mattered, not right now. Severus conjured a quill and a piece of parchment. He penned a note about the disease, his theory, and his need for dragon glass and left it in the vanishing cabinet. Hopefully the Dark Lord wouldn’t kill him.

To his surprise, the door of the cabinet opened and the Dark Lord stepped through. “An interesting idea, a disease spread by magic. How did you come up with it?” he asked as though they were having a simple conversation.

“This explains why adults are being affected before children. Why non-magical animals are fine but magical animals are also falling sick. It just doesn’t explain why Britain is the only country affected but I need to know if I am correct.”

“I’ll have the device to you within the fortnight but I want something in exchange.”

Severus stiffened. “What.”

“Tessa Dare. She is here, is she not?”

How did he know? How could he possibly know? Even if he had a spy in Hogwarts, no one other than Severus and Potter knew Tessa was here. Had Potter mentioned Tessa to Draco or the Parkinson girl? Severus said nothing, but that silence was enough of an answer.

“I want a report on her and Potter. Actions and so forth. On another note, Severus, have you kept up with the current politics?”

“I’ve been a little occupied,” Severus said stiffly.

“Isn’t it curious that Fudge hasn’t left? You would think that the minister would attempt to escape the moment he heard of such a disease, but he’s still in Britain. Perhaps he’s braver than we think.”

As if. Fudge was a self-serving worm.

The Dark Lord exited as silently as he appeared. Severus sorely wanted to know what was on the other side of the cabinet, but he was a Slytherin. He had enough self-preservation.

Severus checked the cabinet multiple times every day until a silver box appeared five days later. He gingerly opened it. At the centre was a tiny glass ball, held in place by a black casing.

Terrified he would drop it, Severus cast lumos at the dragon glass immediately. The glass turned a light blue with golden flecks bouncing around. Great, he had a result. He just needed to know what it meant.

He shut the box and walked briskly to the Room of Requirement, a death grip on the case. Tessa was asleep, Potter next to her. Severus stiffened. If he were correct and the infection was in magic, then it would be highly concentrated around him. He couldn’t expose Potter.

I need a space that can block magic from spreading. I need a space that can block magic from spreading. I need a space that can block magic from spreading.

The air shimmered around him, almost like there was a very thin layer of glass, glowing faintly once in a while. So the Room could theoretically block magic with a glass wall but it couldn’t create a bloody glass ball. Magic made no sense.

I need information on the meaning of colours produced by dragon glass. I need information on the meaning of colours produced by dragon glass. I need information on the meaning of colours produced by dragon glass.

A single, thin book appeared. Severus flipped through it. The pages were blank.

Chapter Text

“Harry, I know you have to go to class, but before you do, here.” Tessa handed Harry a wrapped package with smiling snowmen and snowflakes over sky blue. “In case we don’t see each other again before Christmas. I wanted to do presents together, but it might just be you and me this year.”

Harry opened the wrapping paper carefully. There was a box holding a brand-new sketchpad and a box of colouring pencils.

“I know you didn’t want to bring your last set of colouring pencils with you in case it got lost, so I thought you can have a set at school and a set at home.”

Harry set the box aside and hugged Tessa. “Love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she said into his hair. “Now off you go. Education is important.”

Harry grabbed his present and scampered off.

Once Harry left, Severus stepped out of his makeshift prison and handed Tessa the dragon glass book.

Tessa flipped through the pages. “If the Room gave this to you, it must be about dragon glass, yes?”

“Yes. The writing has to be invisible. Aparecium.” Nothing happened. Why would he ever expect otherwise? Severus flung the book across the room. Why were answers never easy?

“Can the room make us another copy of the book?”

Severus made the request in his mind and handed it to Tessa. She took the book and started ripping out pages. “What are you doing?”

“There are several ways to read invisible ink. Fire. Chemicals. If it’s not magical, I’ll figure something out.”

“I thought you were a physician,” Severus said casually.

“I am. I’ve just picked up a bit here and there.”

Severus watched as Tessa asked for strange ingredients with ridiculously long names to make her scientific potions and set up different stations. She used a dropper to add the liquid to the papers. Severus waited. Nothing happened.

“Maybe I’m thinking about this wrong,” Tessa said finally. “Your world is very…influenced by old ideas. So instead of chemistry, I should be trying something older.”

“Such as what?” Severus snapped irritably. Immediately, he felt uncomfortably guilty. When did he ever feel guilty? Merlin, he needed sleep.

“Fire.” Tessa asked for a match and struck a light. She held it close to the page, almost burning the piece of paper. Severus held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Tessa’s shoulders slumped down. “Well, I’m all out of ideas. You want to try?”

“Maybe you need a magical fire. Incendio.” Severus pointed his wand at the page. The edges darkened from the heat. Still nothing. Severus cancelled the spell with a huff.”

“Are there different kinds of magical fires? Maybe we need a specific flame. Assuming fire is even the answer.”

Oh no. “Dragon glass. Made out of the flame of a dragon and the sand of the home of a dementor. What if we need dragon flame to read the book?”

“What the hell is a dementor.” Tessa shut her eyes and sighed. “Actually, I don’t need to know. What do you need?”

“If I’m right? A dragon.”

“And I assume the Room can’t make one.”

“No. We need to find a dragon.” Where would he even get a dragon from? Ask the Dark Lord again. Severus desperately craved dreamless sleep right now. Maybe when he woke up, everything would be fixed.

Harry didn’t have an excuse ready for why he had a new set of colours when he hadn’t received a package, but the nice thing was, he didn’t need one.

“Are those new?” Draco asked curiously when they came back from class and he opened Tessa’s present.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to finish the dragon now?” Draco was impatient. He had been asking Harry repeatedly about the sketch for the past week after Harry promised Draco a dragon and Pansy a unicorn. He also prioritised certain questions over others because Harry took so long to respond and Draco hated waiting.

“Color not good,” Harry warned Draco. “New.”

“Modesty is not a good trait, Harry,” Draco said pompously.

He selected a brown for the wings, yellow and green to mix with the brown for the body, and orange for the eyes. When he finally finished, Harry ripped out the page. He was about to hand it to Draco when a foot started moving.

It was just a twitch, and Harry thought it was a mistake, but he knew his art. And that talon hadn’t been pointed like that before. And then the wings started moving. The dragon turned its head to stare at Harry and opened its mouth. Harry dropped the sketchpad. Fire burst out of the pages.

“What did you do, Harry?” Draco yelled.

“Not know,” Harry gritted out. He stomped on the flames, trying to crush it out. Pain shot through his leg. Harry looked down and saw something hanging off his leg. It couldn’t be…

“Is that…” Pansy broke off hesitantly.

“A dragon,” Draco finished.

“Draco, you get the dragon away from Harry, and I’ll get the blanket,” Pansy whispered.

“The fire-breathing thing? Why me? And why are you whispering? It’s not like the dragon can understand,” Draco whispered back.

Pansy grabbed the blanket from Harry’s chair. “On three. One. Two. Three.” Draco pulled the dragon away. Pain burst behind Harry’s eyes, making him black out for a moment. When his vision cleared, Draco and Pansy were sitting on the ground and the blanket was moving wildly.

Pansy shoved the blanketed dragon at Draco. “Here. I’ll take Harry to the hospital wing.”

“What are you going to say?” Draco hissed.

“He fell on something sharp.”

Pansy kept an arm around Harry’s waist, holding him up as he limped along to the hospital wing. “Just let me do all the talking,” Pansy murmured.

“Yes,” Harry panted. His vision swam. “Down,” he gasped, but it was too late. The world tilted to the side and Harry fell into blissful oblivion.

Heaven was blinding white lights that made Harry’s head throb. He blinked, trying to clear his vision but nothing happened.

“Harry, you’re awake! Madam Pomfrey, he’s awake!” The squeal made his headache worse. Harry turned to the side and saw a fuzzy figure that shoved something into his hands.

Glasses. Right. He wore glasses. Harry shoved them onto his eyes and saw Pansy and a girl he recognized from some of this classes. Hermione Granger? Something like that?

Madam Pomfrey came over and frowned at Harry, a grave look of disappointment that could match Tessa’s. “Mr Potter, Ms Parkinson told me you fell. How exactly did you fall and end up with this many puncture wounds?”

“Fell sharp. Many times,” Harry said.

“I imagine so. You also hit your head rather hard. I’ve fixed the damage, but I’d like to keep you in the hospital wing overnight. Unfortunately, I need the space and Ms Parkinson has promised that she and Mr Malfoy will keep watch over you. Any sign of dizziness and you will return to me immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Harry said meekly.

“What happened, Madam Pomfrey, if I may ask?” Pansy asked, smiling sweetly.

“Students have fallen ill. I fear the disease is spreading and I must minimize your exposure to the sick. Now off you go. Don’t overexert yourself, and remember to return immediately if you feel unwell.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Pansy handed him his clothes and shut the drapes. “What happened?” he called out.

“You fainted. Ms Granger came across me trying to get your body to the hospital wing and helped,” Pansy said.

Harry made a loose knot with his tie that didn’t resemble anything like what it should and shoved his feet in his shoes. He smiled at Granger awkwardly. “Thanks.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t understand why you lied to Madam Pomfrey. What were you doing? And the least you could do is come up with a better excuse.”

“Shh,” Pansy whispered. “Not here. And fix your tie, Harry. What would Draco say if he saw you now?”

Harry rolled his eyes and took off his tie. He shoved it into a pocket and tried standing. No pain. Incredible!

They walked out of the hospital wing. The moment the doors shut, Granger scowled at them. “I’m not helping you lie if you broke the rules.”

“We didn’t break any rules,” Pansy said crossly. “We just had a small problem.”

Harry still didn’t understand. Had his picture come to life? Was it the colouring? But those came from the muggle world! “Tell Snape?” Harry asked. “He help?”

“Maybe. But he’s staying isolated like all the professors, not that it’s helping.” Pansy sighed. “We can try a prefect.”

“Know Snape where.”

Pansy paused. “How?”

Harry waggled his fingers and grinned. “Magic.”

She scowled at him. “Fine. Let’s go get Professor Snape.”

“Alone.”

“Madam Pomfrey said you shouldn’t be alone!”

“I fine. You go.”

“Will someone just tell me what happened? And why do you talk strangely?” Hermione crossed her arms and glared at both of them.

“Hurt head. Trouble talk. Dragon live page.”

“Harry! You can’t just go around telling everyone what happened!” Pansy scowled even harder.

Harry shrugged.

Pansy sighed and hugged him. “I’m happy you’re all right. Go get Professor Snape. I’ll talk to Ms Granger and meet you in the common room. Don’t you dare faint.”

Harry took off for the Room of Requirement. Following the same instructions as before, he walked back and forth in front of the wall until the door appeared. Tessa and Professor Snape were slumped over in chairs. Tessa had her eyes closed and Snape was crumpling up parchment and throwing it into a pile.

“Hi,” Harry said awkwardly, coming to a stop in front of Professor Snape. “Trouble.”

Professor Snape stiffened. “What. Where.”

“I drew dragon. Come life. Flames. Bit me. Hit head. See…” Harry struggled to say Madam Pomfrey. He hated new words and new people precisely for this reason.

“Did you go to the hospital wing?”

Yes! Harry nodded.

“Thank Merlin.” Professor Snape paused for a moment and then black eyes pinned him in place. “Potter, did you say you have a dragon?”

“Accident!”

“No, you’re not in trouble. Where is it right now?”

“Room. Draco.”

Professor Snape left the Room in a brisk walk, forcing Harry to run every third step to avoid falling behind. He stalked into the common room and then to the first-year dorms, cloak billowing behind him with every step. Students fell trying to get out of his way.

Harry’s room was trashed. There were scorch marks everywhere. Harry’s bed had half collapsed. Books and clothes were scattered everywhere. Draco was sitting on the ground, hair in disarray for the first time ever, with no dragon.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

Draco folded like a house of cards. “It wasn’t our fault. Harry was drawing a dragon for me, and it just came to life somehow! It bit Harry, and Pansy took him to the hospital wing, but they were there a long time, and then the dragon set the sheet we covered him on fire and I tried to catch it, but it escaped.”

“‘It just came to life,’” Professor Snape repeated.

“It’s not Harry’s fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Harry is not in trouble right now. The most important thing right now is to find the dragon.”

Severus left after checking his godson for injuries and banning Potter from drawing anything, even homework, until they determined what was happening. Potter drawing a dragon that came to life? What type of magic was this?

He could deal with that later. Right now, they needed a dragon and they had one right in Hogwarts. If only he could find it. “Point me Potter’s dragon,” Severus said. His wand spun. It led him outside. Severus sighed when he saw where he ended up. Of course. He pounded on the door.

Hagrid opened a tiny crack.

“Give me the dragon,” Severus ordered before Hagrid could say anything.

“Norbert?”

Great. He had named the damn thing.

“He didn’t hurt anyone,” Hagrid insisted.

“Yes, he has, but that’s not the point. I need it to set something on fire for me. Now, I am exhausted. Every professor is. We need a cure, and that dragon may have answers. Now give me the dragon.”

Hagrid opened the door wider. Severus stunned the dragon and took it with him, ignoring Hagrid’s sniffling. He disillusioned himself and sprinted for the Room. “Tessa, wake up,” Severus urged.

Tessa’s eyes opened instantly. She stared at the dragon. “Where did you get it?”

He was not ready for this conversation. “Don’t ask. Are you ready?”

She nodded.

"Rennervate." The dragon hissed at them and exhaled a ball of flame. Severus jumped out of the way. The fire caught his robes and Severus hurriedly stomped it out. The dragon opened its mouth again. The flame hit the chair, sending it up in flames. Severus stunned the dragon again, a silent apology to the damn thing and opened one of the balled-up pages. He held it to the flame. Red words in a slanted script appeared on the page.

Chapter Text

Thankfully, the red script didn’t fade even as they removed it from the fire. Severus a fireproof charm on the dragon and left it to explore the room. He read the thin volume quickly. No mention of gold lights, but he admitted to feeling slightly relieved to know that light blue indicated he was powerful. To think his self-worth was wrapped up in a colour. How ridiculous.

“The gold could be a sign of infection,” Tessa said.

“We need more test subjects to see if this can be used as a diagnostic tool. There may be a problem.” Severus stared at the dragon glass. “We would need to test both infected and noninfected. And only children are uninfected now. I can’t think of any parent that will allow us to test the power level of a child.”

“I hate politics,” Tessa grumbled. “What’s the story behind the dragon? Where did you find one? I thought it would be difficult.”

“Ah.” Severus was a spy. He could handle being interrogated by the Dark Lord and by the Ministry and by Albus. He could surely handle one outraged parent. “Potter drew it and it came to life.”

Tessa stared at Severus. “And does that happen often at Hogwarts?”

“Not exactly.”

“Was anyone injured?”

“Ah.” How to say this carefully. “Harry was in the hospital wing. Minor injury really. He’s been healed and he is well. Also, the seventh years have fallen ill.”

Tessa slumped down. “If he gets hurt at Hogwarts again, heads will roll,” she said calmly.

Severus didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he closed his eyes. Merlin, he wanted sleep.

When Severus opened his eyes again, there was a strange thing on top of him. A blanket? The Room of Requirement had been cleaned up, everything gone except a few chairs, the book, and the dragon. Tessa was petting the damn thing as it nuzzled her.

“What happened?” he asked, voice rough.

“You slept.”

“I what?”

“You slept.”

That was impossible. “How?”

“You must have done something differently. Encountered a cure. Did you eat something? Drink something? Inhale something?”

“I did nothing different today than any other day other than get set on fire by that bloody thing.” Oh no.

“What are the chances…”

Severus stared at the dragon. “Three and seven are magic’s favourite numbers. Dragon glass. Invisible writing illuminated by dragon flame. A dragon cure?”

“You think the cure might be setting yourself on fire?” Tessa snorted. “Why not? It’s not like anything about this disease makes sense.”

“The book.” Severus flipped through the pages until he found the line he wanted. “‘Dragons exhale a purifying flame. Therefore, I believe this creature has the magic to show the purity of the magic that lives within me.’ Give me the dragon.”

“What are you doing?” Tessa demanded.

“Test subjects.”

Minerva stared at Severus like was a dunderhead. Severus didn’t blame her. “No, I’m not letting you set me on fire with a dragon,” she snapped. “Where did you even get the bloody thing?”

“It’s a long story. I slept, Minerva. Just now. No dreamless sleep. I just slept. Do you even remember what sleep feels like?” Snape took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “It’s a baby. How much damage could it possibly do?”

Minerva glared at him. “Fine.”

Severus undid the fireproof charms and pointed the dragon at Minerva. “Go on,” he murmured to the dragon. “You’ve been setting everything on fire. Why stop now?”

It snorted a flame. Minerva doused her robes instantly with water. “Well?” she demanded. “Did it work?”

“Try to sleep.”

She sat down. “I can’t just sleep with you staring at me.” But she closed her eyes anyway. In less than five minutes, she was snoring softly.

They had a cure. That involved setting people on fire. Severus almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

“You’re going home then. Will your boss be mad about you being gone for so long? M, was it?”

“M? He’s the second in command, not quite the boss. And he’s actually a rather nice man. A prat at times, but not bad to work under.”

“It’s a rather unusual name.”

“It’s a nickname of sorts. There’s a wager going on about M’s real name. I think it’s something rather boring, like Matt, but there are people who think it’s something so strange that he would rather prefer a single letter.”

"How did you two meet?"

"I saved his life ten years ago. I was just starting my residency in Emergency Medicine then, and there was this body that just appeared out of nowhere, bleeding from multiple orifices. I kept him alive long enough for the paramedics to get him to A&E, and then I started off my shift with a Level 1 trauma." Tessa smiled wryly. “Imagine my surprise when I complete my residency and immediately get a job offer from some man who won’t take no for an answer. I’d have to do a lot worse than miss work for a while to get fired.”

Severus finished the portkey and nodded at Tessa awkwardly. “Be well.”

“Likewise.”

He handed her the portkey and she disappeared back to her life. Severus wondered what it was Tessa did. She was no ordinary muggle healer. But he would likely never find out.

Now, he just had to find Potter and tell him to draw as many dragons as he could. Just smaller this time.

“Well, good work finding the cure,” Fudge said, wiping sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. “Mr Potter is quite a brilliant child. Such a marvellous ability. However, when we were looking into his background, we observed something strange. Why was the ministry not informed Potter was living with muggles? He is the Boy-Who-Lived! He deserves a proper wizarding family.”

“His parents take good care of him,” Severus said stiffly.

The pink toad next to Fudge cleared her throat. “Hem hem. Nonsense. Muggles do not know how to care for a wizard. In any case, we’ve taken steps to fix this.”

“What,” Severus snapped, ice filling his voice.

“He’ll be placed with the Malfoys after we rescue him from those terrible muggles. I hear the Heir Malfoy and Potter have developed a friendship. That’s a proper family to take care of him,” she simpered.

Severus stood up. “I believe Madam Pomfrey has the situation under control. If you’ll excuse me, I have a term of essays and exams to grade.”

He hurried out of the hospital wing, ready to portkey away, when his arm started burning. Severus flinched and pulled his sleeve up. The mark was faint like usual, but there was no mistaking the burn. It didn’t tell him where to go, but it didn’t need to. Severus stalked to the room of broken things and saw the Dark Lord standing inside.

“Congratulations on finding such an unorthodox cure,” he remarked. “How goes the distribution?”

“Slow. Potter can only draw so fast after all.”

“True. I believe you owe me a report on Potter and Dare.”

Severus was going to die for this. He didn’t care. “The ministry is on its way to obliviate Potter’s family. If you want a report, you’ll have to wait.”

“Going to rush off to Tessa’s rescue? If you are, you better hurry.”

That was it? Severus didn’t care. He activated the portkey.

Christmas. Her family was together. Tessa sighed, sipping the glass of grape juice, the closest she ever came to drinking. “So what happened when I was gone? Tell me you didn’t get into too much trouble.” She glanced at Flynn. “Tell me Lucan didn’t get into too much trouble.”

Lucan rolled his eyes. “Actually, I wasn’t on active duty for the most part. M sent me on a ridiculous hunt for some tiny glass ball and that was it. Took me four days of casing some compound in Atlanta of all places. You know what’s weird though. They had magic.”

What. Tessa stiffened. “What?”

“Yeah, it was weird. There were wards around the compound and that’s why it took so long. I needed someone to bring me in.”

A little glass ball. Magic. “Was it about five centimetres in diameter?”

Lucan looked at her curiously. “Yes?”

Oh fuck. Before Tessa could say anything, the front door exploded. She turned and saw a robed figure. The last thing she heard was “Obliviate.”

Harry screamed when Tessa fell to the ground. Flynn grabbed him and pulled him to their bedroom. He grabbed a gun off the bedside table and tucked it into a shoulder holster. Flynn opened the window and lifted Harry up. Harry swung his legs outside and hit the fire escape. Flynn was about to follow him when a red light struck him. He slumped down.

Harry ran down the stairs. They were only on the second floor, making it a quick journey. But a wizard was waiting for him at the bottom. He grabbed Harry. Harry stomped on his foot and kneed him in between his legs. The wizard dropped Harry and Harry punched his face, just like Lucan had taught him. He fell to the ground and Harry sprinted away.

Severus didn’t need to enter the flat to know something had happened. The front door was smashed, clearly with either magic or a battering ram. Severus drew his wand.

A man, Lucan, Severus remembered, was on the ground in the kitchen, a firearm in his right hand. There was an obliviator and a pool of blood next to him. A closer look showed a body. Tessa.

“Please wake up,” he was whispering but Tessa didn’t move.

“What happened?” Severus demanded.

“A wizard came in. Attacked Tessa first with something called obliviate. Flynn grabbed Harry and ran. I shot this one.” Lucan got to his feet unsteadily. “Flynn.” He opened the bedroom door. There was a man on the ground, next to an open window. “Flynn, oh god.”

“He’s only stunned.” Severus pointed his wand at Flynn. “Rennervate.”

Flynn’s eyes flew open. “Harry,” he gasped. “Is he—”

“Not here,” Lucan confirmed. “I called the home office. They’re sending people.”

“Tessa?”

“She had her memories wiped. I don’t know how much,” Severus said.

The two men rushed back out to Tessa. She was still on the ground, no difference from before.

“I’ll take her to St. Mungo’s. That’s our hospital. They can treat her there,” he said. Severus definitely wasn’t going to tell them the only known way to break through a memory charm was by torture. There were cases when a simple memory wipe did nothing important. There were also cases when they wiped too much, leaving a person in a permanent state of catatonia. “You should find Potter. Where is he?”

“Our work office. He knows to go there for help if anything happens,” Lucan answered. “I’ll go. Flynn can go with you to your hospital.”

Severus apparated them away in a loud pop, not bothering to muffle the sound.

Harry sat on the bed of medical bay. One of Tessa’s co-workers was checking him over. “He’s in shock,” Harry heard her say to a man at the door. “Other than that, he’s fine. A few scrapes on his hands and legs, but nothing major.”

“Has he said anything about what happened?” The voice poked at his memory. Harry couldn’t find the energy to think about it.

“No, sir.”

“All right. Tell me when one of them come.”

“Yes, sir.”

Time passed. He didn’t know how long, but Lucan walked in and hugged him tightly. Harry clung onto Lucan.

“Tessa’s in a magic hospital,” Lucan said quietly. “They’re going to fix her up there. Flynn and your professor are with them. Do you want to go?”

Harry wiped his eyes and nodded.

“The spell was done very imprecisely,” Professor Snape said, his voice strangely gentle. “There may be some neurological damage. We’re not sure if Tessa will wake up or if it will be the Tessa you remember who wakes up.”

No. No. This couldn’t happen! Tessa couldn’t be gone.

“I’ll leave you alone.”

Time passed. No matter how much Harry prayed and wished to the stars, Tessa didn’t move. She almost looked…no he couldn’t think that.

“I’m going to get some water,” Lucan told Harry. “Do you want to come?”

Harry shook his head. What if he left and Tessa woke up?

“Flynn?” Lucan murmured.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you. We’ll be right back, Harry.”

Footsteps led away. Footsteps came back. But it wasn’t Lucan or Flynn who returned.

Voldemort, eyes brown instead of the usual red, took a seat beside him. “Theresa Dare. Brought down by the ministry of all things.”

“What you want,” Harry snapped.

“St. Mungo’s can’t fix her. But I may be able to. If you want to make a deal.”

Harry met Voldemort’s eyes. Anything. I’ll do anything.

Voldemort drew his wand. “Hold out your left arm.”

Lucan went back to Tessa’s hospital room to see a man standing there with Tessa. His hand drifted to his gun immediately. The man looked up.

“M?”

Chapter Text

She stared at the woman aiding the man lying prone on the ground. “I remember this,” someone said and she realised it was her. But she didn’t remember. Not really.

“You saved his life,” a man said beside her. “You saved the lives of a lot of people that day.”

“Did I? I don’t remember.”

“No, you wouldn’t. He was injured very badly after the worst decision of his life. He tried to flee to a safe haven, but he collapsed before he could get there. You were just starting your residency at the time, and you were going to work one day when you nearly ran him over. When he tried to discharge himself against medical advice because he said he was in danger, you took him to your house and cared for him for two months.”

“Oh.” She turned to the strange man, and she had a name at the top of her tongue. She just couldn’t remember it. “Have we met before?”

“In a way. My name is Marvolo, but you called me M.”

“I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t apologise. You used to apologise too much.”

“You knew me well.” It wasn’t a question. The man spoke as though they were old acquaintances.

“I do. We worked together for many years. Do you remember your name?”

She thought about it. “Theresa,” she tried out. It didn’t sound right.

“Theresa Dare. But you were never fond of it, and you asked everyone to call you Tessa.”

Tessa has felt fine in the night air before, but goosebumps suddenly broke out over her skin. “Something happened to me.”

“Yes.”

The scene changed. Tessa stares at the two men sitting close together, heads bent over a table as they studied something together. A woman carrying three cups of coffee sat down in the empty chair. “I know them too.”

“Yes. The three of you started working at MI6 at the same time. You live with them.” MI6? It sounded implausible. She would know if she were a spy, right?

The world around them blurred again. A boy this time. Tessa stared at the scared green eyes and the scarred forehead. His arm was wrapped in a cast, but somehow, she knew that wasn’t the poor boy’s worst injury.“ Someone hurt him.”

“Multiple people hurt him,” M corrected. “This is the result of his aunt hitting him with a frying pan when he was four.”

Anger burst through her. “Is she dead? What happened to him after?”

“She’s in prison. You saved him. MI6 helped you, Lucan, and Flynn get the credentials to become his foster parents when he grew attached to you and you to him, and eventually, the three of you adopted him.”

“I don’t remember.” She was starting to say that a lot.

“You will.”

Harry rubbed his wrist and waited. Tessa would wake. She had to. Beside her, Tom sat beside Tessa. He hadn’t moved for hours and Harry wished he knew what the man was doing.

After an eternity, M stood up. “The person who took her memories shattered her mind,” he told them.

“What does that mean?” Lucan asked.

“Tessa has to put together her memories like a puzzle in order to remember. I have given her the building blocks to start the more recent years, but she has to do the rest on her own. It will take her a while, perhaps a long while, but if you wait, she will heal.”

“Thank you,” Lucan breathes out. “Thank you.”

Tom grimaced. “No thanks is necessary. I owe her a debt.”

“For what?” Flynn asked.

“She saved my life a little more than ten years ago.”

“Who are you?”

Finally the question Harry has been waiting for.

Tom sighed and waved his wand around them. “I suppose you would have found out eventually. You know me as M, but I was born Tom Marvolo Riddle...”

Harry went back to Hogwarts for the second term and watched the cheerful children around him, talking about everything that had happened during the break. None of them knew, he realized. For all that he was famous, no one here knew that the ministry had attacked his guardians and tried to kidnap him.

None of them knew that Tessa was currently in the hospital. None of them knew that his parents worked for Voldemort. Even he couldn’t wrap his head around that and it had been weeks. Voldemort, in disguise, in MI6.

Currently, Flynn and Lucan were on medical leave officially. Unofficially, they were furious at their boss and considering leaving their jobs. Except Tom had been helping Tessa. He spent time with her every week to work through the lost or broken memories in her mind. He had created a two-way mirror for Lucan and Flynn to talk to Harry and update him on Tessa.

Harry still couldn’t believe that his parents’ boss was the evil wizard who had tried to kill him at birth, who had killed his biological parents. It had been ages since he’d even thought about James and Lily Potter. He had no memory of the event other than a green light and he knew nothing of the Potters. What he did have were memories of Tessa with him in every moment of his life that mattered.

If Tom could save Tessa, Harry would do anything he wanted. He stared at the mark on his wrist. A single green circle, like a dried ink splot. An oath. A promise.

“She’s awake,” the healer said. Harry couldn’t believe his ears. One week into summer vacation and he had almost given up hope completely no matter what Tom said. “Do you want to see her?”

He flipped a card over. Yes.

Harry hesitantly stepped into Tessa’s room. Did she remember him? Was she still Tessa?

“Harry?” Tessa said, voice broken from disuse but not weak in the slightest.

He burst into tears and launched himself at Tessa.

Tom stepped inside the hospital room and Tessa slapped him. Harry winced at the loud crack.

“I suppose I might have deserved that.”

And then Tessa offered a hand. “Thank you for helping my mind. I suppose I won’t break my oath and use my extensive medical training to kill you as long as you leave my kid the hell alone.”

Tom winced and shook her hand.