The graveyard's layout was kind of orderly, but ultimately messy enough to make it feel exceptionally authentic, like it really was a place that people had once started burying bodies in and over the centuries different practices and grave arrangements came in and out of fashion. Some rows were lined up well, others more artistic or natural—as if those were the graves that had been there first before someone decided this plot of land would be an official place to lay the dead to rest.
The center of the graveyard was a willow tree, but the twelve other trees scattered about weren't all willows nor were they out there in any particular pattern, they just kind of plopped themselves wherever and disrupted the neat lines of graves in places. There was a decent stretch of grass surrounding the center willow so the first line of graves wasn't punched right up next to it, and for at least three rows the graves all faced inwards in a circle—a spiral technically, as one circle became the next, and then the next gradually. Beyond that the style changed, sections forming more rectangular areas with the graves in mostly neat lines.
Directly to the north beyond the center circles, the style switched to rows, but the farther you walked the less neat the lines seemed to be. The lower north area was separated by a moderately cared-for cobblestone path, and once you crossed it to the upper north section you could tell the graves there were much older. It wasn't unkempt exactly but the moss and lichens on the stones had done their damage, wind and water erosion making them noticeably less pristine as the graves in the lower yards.
It was here you found family tombs, large headstones with multiple names written on them with little adornments other than an occasional flower that had clearly grown wild, and not from someone's tender care of the long-forgotten memorials. Scattered about this place, more so towards the northernmost part of the graveyard, you would find mausoleums, standing tall and proud and closed tightly as you passed or in the distance if you didn't walk all the way to the edge.
He walked right by Blaise's mausoleum, actually giving it a wide berth amongst the rows. For as long as he'd had this graveyard he hadn't actually gone near that one to examine it closely yet, and today wouldn't be the day he started either.
No, his real goal was quite the walk away, passing the tallest and most impressive tombs and old, refined graves that maybe were worn but hey, at least they'd withstood the test of time and were still proudly there. The ground was less flat here, a little more rocky and uneven, the grass just a little thicker and taller.
To the northwest the graves got more haphazard, less organized and more like someone had began tossing people here for lack of better option a long, long time ago—perhaps on the edge of a settlement that had long since disappeared without a trace. Many of the graves here had no names even, or the etchings on their stones were so worn Harry just couldn't read them at least, half of them being stones laid into the ground flat instead of proper headstones, as that seemed to be the style of the time these graves were made. A time when things like headstones weren't around yet, and someone painstakingly carving a name into the largest rock they could find in the forest was all the grave marker they could muster up.
You couldn't see it but considering this was his mindscape, he was fully aware of many, many graves in this area… or should he say people who'd found their peace in this place, that had left no trace and nothing outwardly hinting that this stretch of bumpy, hilly grass had any graves in it at all. A long time ago the people here had been buried in cloth or the clothes on their backs, maybe not that deep so that the warmer layers of the earth combined with the lack of protection from the earthworms and bugs had decomposed even their bones into nothing by now. No refined coffin or stone tomb protected them, there had maybe just been a beautiful tapestry or blanket someone had lovingly wrapped them in for the last time to send them off, but all of it was long gone.
Someone had once used what they had to make a grave marker made of wood, perhaps painted it or tied ribbons to it, decorated it with flowers and pretty stones or memorial trinket to honor them. Wood, paint, and cloth didn't last though, and today nothing remained to imply they'd ever been there, much less the names that were once written on bits of oak or hickory or pine.
This area was mostly field now, some stones imbedded into the ground sometimes revealing a name but on the most part it was only because Harry knew this place well that he knew this was anyone's final resting place at all.
There was an elm here, tall and thin with spikey leaves and pale bark. It was sparse and dropped branches everywhere making every other step he took crunch as he could barely avoid them. Beneath its shade was one grave amongst the many that Harry had marked himself, though he was hyper aware of the… fleeting nature of the wood he'd carved it from.
How desperately Harry wanted to bring this grave closer to the willow at the center, closer to him and more easily reached, but he couldn't. His subconscious wouldn't let him… or maybe it was better to say his conscience.
Because Theo wouldn't want to be close to the others.
It was too loud (ha, in a graveyard?) and too crowded, and amongst the other proper stones this small wooden marker would feel… wrong.
Out of place.
Lost.
Harry made a lot of executive decisions here, since it was his graveyard and in the theme of things no one was alive here to tell him what he could or couldn't do to 'mourn' before their graves. He could be as respectful or disrespectful as he wanted but no one was here to judge him for it. No one was alive or looking down on him from the great beyond with any right to judge him: they were dead.
This was his graveyard. This was how he mourned—or reflected.
He couldn't do it to Theo though.
Theo would neither care nor judge him even if he somehow knew, but still, Harry couldn't do it. No matter how much he wanted to drag him closer to the willow, he knew he'd just be disrupting the peace Theo was enjoying over here—if he were alive to enjoy such things. Taking away his peace and quiet, his solitude… it went against everything Harry had ever done in order to become friends with him in the first place.
But as he sat before the right grave and examined the wood panel he himself had cobbled together, he had this… anxiety, over the fleeting nature of things not made of stone.
If he stopped visiting, if he spent too long away and time continued to do it's thing and cause the wood to grow old, then weak, then rotten, then nothing at all…?
Well… that's exactly what it'd do. Any trace of the bits of wood with Theodore Nott painted in white and tied together with thick twine would disappear if he turned his back for too long. This was a remote area of the graveyard after all, he had to consciously take the time and make the trek out here to visit it. Even now sometimes if he was just a little too preoccupied with the busy lower yards, too busy admiring he center willow and tending to the flowers around the graves around it, some times he'd come back here to find the twine holding the slats of wood together to be fraying. Thinned and brittle from the rain, pecked at by birds until it wasn't nearly as strong as it'd been when Harry first tied it.
If he left this grave unattended for too long, unlike the others that merely got buried in snow and he could dust off no problem, this one would disappear.
And he'd always know this grave was here, because it was his graveyard after all, but there was something deeply painful about the way this make-shift headstone was just so… temporary.
The thing was, he also knew Theo half wanted it to disappear too. For the wood to decay and for him to disappear beneath the grass amongst who-knows how many other names bodies buried here, not a name or person of importance anymore but just part of the earth. If Harry were a better person he'd clean this area of all the pathetic pieces of graves and the elm branches and make this area a beautiful memorial garden, something people could visit and enjoy properly. Something he could dedicate to not just Theo but everyone like them he'd passed… and forgotten.
Theo wasn't here, to comment either way. If he were though… Harry knew he'd wouldn't care if he had a headstone or none at all—he wouldn't mind the garden either but the gesture would never be for him, and Harry knew that. It was just the 'nice' thing to do, but the people forgotten here would never know nor care about it. They were dead after all.
Theo doesn't really want a grave at all.
Harry had to admit to himself that this was probably the reason he was having such a hard time putting Theo into his graveyard: his mindscape was the thing that was flawed.
From the books he'd read you needed to have a system of organization that separated topics out cleanly, be that by season or topic or smell or whatever it was. A common one was to imagine a library or a filing cabinet, a room full of closets or literal buckets with various things in them, but Harry had chosen to separate his mental chaos into people. A side effect to it was that the things he needed to categorize also got connected to people too—like how his entire foundation of Transfiguration was connected to McGonagall's grave, since she was there when he first started. Now that he was branching out and doing other things, he found thought on Chemistry clearest when in front of Remus' grave, or when he was transfiguring clothes he found himself in front of Dell's.
Everyone would have a resting place someday, that was the universal fact of life, so while there were no real bodies here and most of the people here were actually alive still, it was easy to imagine their graves. It helped him embrace those who were really dead that he'd never met, like his parents he'd never met and would have no idea how to classify as anything other than dead, but it also helped him reflect over the people in his life that were still living too. Graves didn't talk back after all, he didn't have to imagine what they might say to him, he could talk to their headstones with no expectation of them hearing or listening or responding, but the practice itself helped him reflect on his own relationship with them… or who he thought they were, at least. A one-sided conversation really shed some light on what assumptions he was harboring after all.
For example Ron's grave… now that he was calmer, when he stood in front of it he just felt… tired.
If Ron Weasley were really dead and buried here, what did it matter all the childish things he'd said or done? He was just a kid like him, and his family would be devastated to lose their youngest son. Him eating too loud or pulling a prank he didn't know would be dangerous wasn't worth the effort it took to be mad about, should Harry outlive him. Putting it into perspective like that, it was hard to hold a grudge.
He absolutely would hold some grudges though—the Dursleys, Dumbledore, Quirrell, Voldemort— but it was a good litmus test. If he wasn't mad enough to still be mad about it even if they died, then it wasn't worth holding onto forever.
He'd hold onto things little, but not forever.
So all in all, his method of organization being a graveyard had serves him very well, for almost everyone and everything he'd needed to sort through since he started learning Occlumency.
It was inherently flawed though, because Theo didn't belong in a graveyard.
This pathetic wooden arts-and-crafts project in front of him was all he could scrape together, because he knew if Theo were actually gone and buried, any memorial would be of Harry's own creation. If he wanted to mourn the quiet Slytherin, he would need to find a way to do it himself because Theo would somehow escape the finality of a headstone—he might even escape the confines of a graveyard all together. If someone did put him here, even in the afterlife he'd be annoyed by it.
Harry could picture everyone's grave, it was where they'd all go in the end after all.
Theo though…
…Harry could imagine Theo disappearing one day. As an old man, or maybe not. He could easily imagine him either knowing it was time or just deciding it was, and walking out the door one day to never return. He'd pull his disappearing act and vanish from behind him, or more likely he'd have been living alone and never returning his letters anyway so that when Harry next thought to crash in and bother him, he'd find the place abandoned.
There'd be tea on the table even, since there was no way he'd bother cleaning up after himself, much less leaving a note. He probably wouldn't even change or take anything with him, he'd just decide and then disappear, just like that.
Maybe he'd toss himself into the sea or walk out into the woods—either way Harry was sure no one would find him again and his resting place would be a secret only he'd know for the rest of time.
There would be no grave.
In this mindscape there was, because Harry needed a place to fit him into his world, but it would always feel a little out of place, since while he could easily imagine everyone else's grave, he had to force himself to imagine Theo here even though the deeper part of himself knew this was wrong. He almost had to actively force himself to remember what this grave looked like, as it didn't come comfortably or naturally at all.
He didn't belong here.
Maybe he didn't even really belong in Harry's mindscape at all, but he refused to let even this awkward piece go.
It didn't matter if this piece didn't fit easily and comfortably as everyone else, he wasn't letting it go.
No matter if he felt a flicker of guilt at burying him here despite knowing he wouldn't want to be. No matter if he needed to constantly tend to this grave marker so that it didn't disappear on him. No matter if Theo did or did not care about what he was doing.
Harry planted heather, a mix of purple and white and there was no other flower that described anyone in this graveyard quite like how heather fit Theo. Purple heather at least, but Harry made the choice to plant white along side it anyway. Maybe he was just sentimental.
Maybe in the real world when the day came, he'd have no idea where Theo went and he'd never know how long he'd been gone until it was too late, but Harry knew on that day he'd transfigure as many fields as he could get his hands on into heather. He'd use every ounce of his expansive magic to turn the entire country purple and white at least for day, so that his friend wouldn't be able to escape his goodbye even in death.
Because no matter what Theo cared or did not care about, Harry would care enough to at least give him flowers.
000
It didn't sink in just how much he'd spoiled himself for choice until now, when he wasn't able to leave the Gryffindor common room.
It had only been less than a week of the new status quo, but it was insanely infuriating already. Between classes they were escorted by teachers, during study halls and the second dinner was done they were expected to be safe back in their dorms, and all club activities had been cancelled until further notice. Gryffindor itself didn't seem to care that much (besides the loss of quidditch—Wood and Melody were inconsolable) aside from the new rules chafing annoyingly at their sense of freedom, and being told what to do in general.
As someone who had gotten very used to rotating his daily conversations between all four houses though, Harry got sick and tired of it immediately.He could still talk to the other houses at meals but it just wasn't the same! Not that he didn't like his own house but 24/7 was getting to be too much. Even his normal 'alone time' of being an early riser wasn't alone anymore, since there were half a dozen fifth years who were apparently early risers all of a sudden with OWLs a mere two months away, and they couldn't escape to the library in the evenings to study anymore. So now mornings were the only time serious students actually had to work in peace, and Harry was still under his promise to Neville to not get up at 4am anymore so he couldn't just beat them awake either!
He genuinely did love how loud and friendly his house was.
By day four though, he was ready to hex someone.
It probably didn't help that even if he could talk to other houses at meals, he hadn't sat at the Slytherin table yet.
It was just… the glaring absence would be too harsh, the same way he still felt his heart wilt at Colin's absence amongst the other first years. That would've only been a mild hangup though, but his real issue was Blaise.
He didn't want to look at his stupid face right now because he knew for fact the asshole find this all extremely hilarious and while Harry didn't exactly hold it against an insane person for doing insane things, he also wasn't ready to hear it right now. The mandrakes were about eleven weeks away from maturing according to Neville, and Draco confirmed it wouldn't be more than a week after that for all the victims turned to stone to be cured—something about the potion brewing time and needing to wake them up slowly that Harry didn't understand.
Still, he knew he'd need to face the Slytherin table before those eleven weeks had passed, but he was holding off for now, no matter how cramped and frustrated he felt trapped in his own house at the moment. Just like he couldn't get as upset as he wanted to be in front of the lions over a Slytherin getting petrified, he couldn't exactly get mad at Blaise and pick a fight with him. For one, it'd never work and if he did fight with that guy he wanted to be on his A game and not distracted like he was now, and for another he knew there was no point in getting mad at him in the first place.
He was already very aware of Blaise's reaction to this, hence why he was steering clear. What good was putting himself in a position that he knew was going to piss him off ahead of time? That was just poor planning on his part at this point.
It did however make him feel a little better when he imagined the jerk's reaction to being told that Harry hadn't been visiting because he'd become too predictable. He was looking forward to that conversation a bit, but it'd happen much later when he was less worked up.
The real reason there was no point in visiting though, was that Draco seemed very aware of where his thoughts were and had actually braved sitting at the Gryffindor table to visit him—three times now! In one week!
Luckily everyone had been on their best behavior and seemed to understand that Theo had been both his and Draco's friend, so in the name goodness and friendship and all that lion nonsense they'd actually all (outwardly) backed off and given him no trouble during the brief visits. The fact Ron was clear on the other end of the table and the twins had taken to sitting much closer while things were so tense seemed to be key ingredients in why there'd been no incidents so far, he suspected. After their serious conversation at the start of term, both twins had been extremely busy 'plotting things' as they'd told him gleefully, but also just in general far more aware of their own status. They'd figured out all on their own that if they were between Draco with the Gryffindor boys of Harry's year, and the rest of the table consisting of mostly upper years, it was like they became this wall that most didn't dare breech.
The twins were the Gryffindors after all, they were popular and friendly and you couldn't really lean around them to talk to someone on their other side, it just felt rude. You usually ended up talking to them instead, and if they didn't really acknowledge Draco then no one else around them did either.
So ended up a very successful new arrangement of usually Fred sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry near the end of the table at the back of the hall—Draco and a mix of Gryffindor boys and first years to his left, the rest of the house to his right. George sat either next to or across from his brother, but with this set-up no one had even commented or shot Draco a dirty look yet for his presence.
Harry was grateful for them once again, but also realized it might also not be about him this time since the twins were usually neck-deep in conversing with their own roommates sitting near them instead of with the younger years they were protecting, and going by how often silencing charms were being used on their conversations Harry knew it was serious business, prank business, or a mix of both. He left them too it, just thankful they were kind enough to block for Draco silently while things were so tense.
Conversely, Draco had also been on his best behavior in amongst the lions too—being cold but polite to his year mates and clearly confused by the first years sitting near them and choosing to ignore those pointedly. He also, yet again, instantly got into quidditch discussions with Seamus the second any more pressing conversations were complete. In fact, Harry almost felt like Draco was not visiting him at all, given how he was left in the dust about quidditch technicalities immediately. Despite actually playing the sport he was still not that obsessed that he'd memorized every single foul physically possible in such a complicated sport, but Draco 100% had.
Even Dean, who was a big quidditch fan now too, had been leaning more towards the football club since he and Lu were the unofficial/official leaders of it, and couldn't keep up—he and Harry now looking at each other as they were forced to sit quietly through their friends bickering in what amounted to an alien language to them.
Harry did find it nice to talk about football with Dean though too, since the guy had been getting muggle magazines with news from the muggle leagues and there was a lot more there to catch up on. Harry had seen more than a few football club members with copies themselves, so it was a spreading interest now that quidditch wasn't the only sport to follow, and information on it was harder to get in the magical world if you didn't have easy access to the latest magazine or muggle paper.
All in all, life was… tense, but calm.
There wasn't much anyone could do about the situation except either worry or continue on with life like normal, and people ended up doing both somehow. So yeah, they talked about sports and homework and midterms next week and easter break right after it and also sometimes the petrification monster/snake. But it wasn't like they could do much about it except talk, then continue on with life.
But even as life continued 'normally', people were worried about the petrification monster with more force than ever, after the months of no further attacks had lulled everyone into a false sense of security. The new rules made it impossible to forget as teachers snapping at students not to wander around alone increased the sense of fear not permeating the air. Where once people were kind of just ignoring it, maybe feeling a little concerned when they recalled what had happened to some of their classmates, now everyone was always on edge and anxious since the reminder that danger could be everywhere was ever present in their daily lives.
Oddly enough, Harry wasn't any more anxious than he'd been before about it—about the monster at least. He did have a writhing snake in his stomach when he thought of Theo and Colin and the other victims, but the threat of the monster didn't increase for him exactly. He'd always been cautious and now that everyone else was too it actually made him feel a little better in a way. Validating, to a point.
And he'd already done what he could, so there was nothing left to do but wait things out until the tide changed again.
The first thing he'd done was tell McGonagall about his hearing that murderous voice, how he'd told Snape before but nothing had happened and how the Slytherins pointed out it might be a snake then, given his ability. She thankfully took him seriously and said she'd inform those investigating, even saying she'd personally check out how 'in the walls' it might be.
The next thing he'd tried to do was find Hagrid to have that conversation, but the lockdown rules had made it extremely hard. He could've slipped out under this invisibility cloak, but the portrait mysteriously opening in a now always-full Gryffindor common room would cause panic probably since everyone was freaked out about this monster, and the only person who knew he had the cloak at all was Neville, who'd looked very panicked when Harry mentioned wanting to go out alone.
And wander the halls and open grounds with the threat of the petrification snake on the loose and a bigger threat than ever.
Yeah, Harry could see how it would be a bad plan, so he agreed to wait until Hagrid was available, sending him an owl about visiting with his official permission instead—he counted as a responsible adult apparently so if the guy walked them to his cabin and back himself they'd be allowed to go so long as it was before dinner and curfew. Unfortunately the groundskeeper was apparently one of the people helping comb the school from top to bottom in search of anything strange under Dumbledore's orders, but he promised he'd make some time Friday for them.
Which left a full school week of not being able to do much more than pretend life was normal and talk about sports over lunch as if that were all there was to talk about. Harry had gotten so itchy in his need to do something that he had even killed some time putting together absolutely immaculate study packets he could give the petrification victims when they awoke, as they'd be coming around with less than a week before finals. So, at least they would have a little easier time catching up for Transfiguration… he was less worried about Theo and the others, but super worried about Colin who'd gotten petrified so early in the year, as a muggleborn who'd still been learning the magical world to begin with, and he hadn't exactly come off as a 'star student'. Super enthusiastic about the material, but so far as his grades or essay-writing skills, Harry was concerned to say the least.
Being nearly a full school year behind his classmates in general was a concern, however Harry kind of suspected Colin would have enough enthusiasm and positivity that the gap between him and them wouldn't be much of a problem.
It was the last possible thing he could've been doing that ended up being the most frustrating that they weren't making progress on though.
"You really have no idea what kind of snake it could be?" Seamus seemed doubtful, but Draco could only stiffly incline his head and glance at Harry to give him a knowing look.
"There are less options than you think. Plenty of snakes kill, none that we know of actually petrify though. Petrification is extremely dark and even if there were Slytherins who'd know about it, they obviously wouldn't share." He snipped quietly, but Harry got the message.
Blaise.
Dark magic was illegal and secretive, and if a dark family were using it then obviously they'd only teach it within the family, not boast about it where anyone could hear or gather clues about it. That Blaise knew immediately that it was a snake by the petrification alone meant he probably damn well knew what kind of snake it was, and he wasn't sharing. In fact, if it really were something related to his own family's dark magic, there was a chance his mother was in on it too, and if she was actually hiding the information outside of Hogwarts as well, they were doomed. It wouldn't even be a stretch to say she'd ordered her son to do it as well, and that if they went to the Library right now, most of the books about magical snakes might be mysteriously missing. How Blaise had done that beneath Madam Pince's nose, Harry didn't know, but he wouldn't put it past him.
Which meant they were at a dead end. The only people capable of getting information the Zabini's wanted hidden was most likely the Greengrass family, but obviously Harry had commandeered a lot of their time and resources with his deal so it wasn't like he could lean on them right now.
"So far as snakes, there are a dozen snake monsters out there. Since this is supposedly Slytherin's monster itself it could even be one of the more legendary beings, like the white snake demon or the hydra. Someone even floated it's a naga or a leviathan python, though no idea how they'd still be alive if they're the original monster Salazar Slytherin had." Draco shrugged. "Since you said it was huge, some upper years think it's Jormungand."
"Wouldn't that make this the end of the world?" Harry frowned, cupping his tea closer.
"Probably." Draco was unconcerned, so clearly he didn't think that was it. "For less legendary snakes there are things like occamy and runespoors, giant fire pythons, weeping boas, even basilisks. All of which will kill you given the chance but so far as petrifying and not eating it's victims? Very unlikely." He broke the news.
"Would any of those grow to be, like, Hagrid size?" Harry wondered.
"They're magical creatures—given enough magic and time any of them could. If it's really Slytherin's monster and it was alive when he was, that would be enough time… but to live, much less grow, how has it been eating and no one noticed it?" Draco countered. "Also, they're all insanely territorial—if it were getting out to eat then it would've noticed a bunch of wizards in it's territory and killed a lot more people than it has so far."
"Maybe Salazar told it not to. Wasn't it originally supposed to be something that protected the school? Maybe it's enchanted not to eat students or something," Harry mused.
"Maybe? If he cared that much?" Even Draco didn't seem that optimistic of his own house founder, making Dean snicker. "If he did then he's a stronger wizard than even we thought since telling an occamy not to eat would be insane. But even if that were true, why now? And what's with the petrification?"
"I guess." Harry felt like there was something he was missing, he just didn't know what. "Well Hagrid is supposed to be our Creatures professor next year, so maybe he'll know. We're talking to him Friday." He informed him, and Draco nodded but didn't seem to get his hopes up—or be impressed at all, actually.
Harry had faith in his giant friend but yeah… he was also kind of worried about how Hagrid's lessons would go, so he couldn't fault him for that.
"Yee of little faith, you're forgetting that super dangerous pets are Hagrid's specialty! With our luck he'll have once had a giant runespoor named Peggy or something that he'll be able to tell us all about!" Seamus rallied them, and neither Harry nor Draco could find fault with that logic, so it was as good a lead as anything.
Which meant, yet again, they just had to wait until then.
000
They didn't make it to Friday.
It was Thursday night, just after dinner and everyone now too amped up on food to go to their rooms but not permitted to leave the tower, so it felt like the entire lion house was crammed into the common room. It was loud and there was barely any elbow room but wasn't that uncomfortable, particularly not when a giant game of exploding snap broke out and if you joined in then it was kind of fun. You were shit out of luck if you were trying to be responsible and do homework in the corner though.
He was looking at his cards and plotting his next move while Neville took his turn when he heard his name from across the room, near the portrait entrance. People shouting for him wasn't weird at all, but the tone of mild panic in their voice peaking over the loud din of the now-normal weeknight chaos caught his attention.
"Harry!?"
"What?" he shouted back, not sure who it was but putting his cards down to pay attention.
"There's a Slytherin here!"
He froze.
"What!?" He immediately stood because what the hell? Luckily the other guys took the cue to abandon the game as well since that was way bigger news than… well it was almost bigger than a petrification attack honestly since they'd had four of those this year, but a Slytherin hadn't willingly visited Gryffindor's dorm in potentially centuries.
He had to know and made his way there immediately, Seamus, Dean, and Neville following in curiosity. Unfortunately the shouting match had caught more than just their notice, and half the house was now realizing there was a Slytherin here and having mixed reactions about it.
"If it's Draco then someone go get McGonagall because the world is ending," He felt the need to say and earned himself several startled laughs from onlookers.
"It could be about the snake again!" Seamus gave the benefit of the doubt, but Dean made an indignant sound.
"Forget that, your first reaction if the world is ending is to tell McGonagall?"
Harry ignored that, knowing it probably wasn't Draco since he could send Hedwig with a letter like they always did, still every day exchanging at least small notes here and there to catch up despite being more separated than they'd ever been at Hogwarts. Draco was also not in a position within his own house where he could afford to just show up at the entrance of Gryffindor tower like this would be okay so there was almost no chance it was him.
It could be any other Slytherin here for anyone who wasn't him… but the person yelling that there was a Slytherin outside had made the correct assumption that it was statistically very unlikely a snake would be here for anyone that wasn't him these days. There might've been other possibilities but there wasn't time to entertain them when the room wasn't that big and suddenly he was in the portrait hole, blinking down at a smiling Daphne, who just waved once at him.
It was both a relief and also very confusing.
"There's no way you're out past curfew to ask to hang out in the lion's den," He blurted out, still kind of stunned to see her here.
"Nope. Also, 'a Slytherin' am I? Suppose that's an upgrade considering what it could've been." She allowed, seeming casual and unperturbed as they chatted but he knew she was probably just a great actor. They both knew all of Gryffindor was now watching this exchange behind him, whispering not-so-quietly about what was going on. The lone snake had to be feeling quite exposed with several dozen upper year, super unfriendly lions all starting to notice her presence.
"You good?" he got to the point because clearly, she was on a mission.
Which she confirmed by unearthing a folded newspaper from where she'd held her arms behind her back, presenting it to him almost pointedly.
"I'm fine, it's you that's going to want to see this."
"The paper?" He stepped down from the portrait hole to face her properly and take it.
"An early copy, it'll hit print tomorrow. Thought it'd be a bit rude if you found out the same time as the rest of the school." She said in a tone that was the epitome of casual, but as he opened it to see what was so important about this rather than bother asking, he froze solid at the headline.
Trial of the Century: Sirius Black Innocent?
He forgot to breathe for a second and as he looked up at her in shock, she nodded to him with blue eyes locked onto his then pointedly glancing at the open portrait hole behind him.
"What!?"
He knew his shout was heard by the entire tower behind him. It felt good to finally be able to let loose about this, because he was shocked and low-key panicking and he didn't need to hide it any longer—it had hit the papers and going by her cue she had chosen literally the most public scene she could outside of everyone finding out the same time as him at breakfast tomorrow for a reason.
It was all part of the plan. He'd been warned it'd suddenly be public, but even then it wasn't hard to act surprised because honestly he was. With everything else going on and how focused he'd been on the mystery snake, despite knowing it was coming this had still managed to take him off guard.
"Are you serious right now?" He wasn't yelling but his voice was raised and he knew half his house was now dead curious about it.
Seamus was right behind him in the portrait hole and took the opportunity to look over his shoulder at the paper—and inhaled sharply, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle it. "Oh my god…"
"Sirius Black? Who is that?" Dean had seen it too but clearly didn't know the significance, and that caught people's attention behind them. Especially as Seamus realized what his friend had just blurted out and violently tried to shush him, dragging him back into the common room hastily, much to his confusion.
Well, it's happening now, Harry tried to pretend he was in control but… his hands shook a bit as he lifted the paper. Even knowing this was all planned he still felt a little uneasy and panicked about how this was going to go.
Neville, thankfully, knew all about what was really happening but also somehow sensed his stress, remaining present by his side and pressing a hand on his back reassuringly to settle his racing heart. It helped him take a breath and actually read the words in front of him and not spiral out of control from how hard his pulse was beating.
Everyone probably assumed he was stressed about his parents' 'murderer' going free… and yeah he was super stressed about that, but more because he was afraid he wouldn't. He could be shaken though, he didn't have to hide it—they'd think it more suspicious if he was unaffected probably.
He scanned the page quickly, trying to take it in but there was a bunch of fluff filing out the article, a long introduction recapping who Sirius was and what he'd supposedly done… and then it got to the juicy stuff. How he never got a trial, how the question had been posed on if he was perhaps innocent. Several infuriating quotes from Fudge calling it nonsense, but thankfully several from Amelia Bones in there too, vouching on her duty as head of the DMLE to at least give him his day in court as every citizen deserved that right. It then rapidly devolved into speculation about a dozen different aspects, insults and praise for the Ministry, the entire controversy of how humane Azkaban actually was—
But then:
"Monday!?" Harry freaked out, not even needing to pretend for this as he snapped his head up to look at Daphne widely. "This Monday!? As four days from now!?"
She nodded once in confirmation. "Dad says Madam Bones already got him out of Azkaban, they're interrogating him at the Ministry and having a healer double check he's even sane enough to give a statement."
Harry gripped the paper until it nearly ripped… he was overwhelmed for sure, but he was also relieved too.
Padfoot was out. They were working on the details now but he was already out of that place, and if Harry could just trust Mr. Greengrass and what he'd sold to make this happen, then… it was going to be over soon.
He still felt kind of sick though.
"This is…"
"I'll leave you to it." Daphne gave him a significant look, glancing at the common room behind him once more. "Slytherin doesn't know just yet, but they will come breakfast." Meaning Blaise had kept to his word for some reason and hadn't spilled ahead of time.
It had worked.
He didn't know if the Greengrass family had managed to quiet them or for some reason Blaise and his mother actually hadn't spilled for whatever reason… it didn't really matter. Things were in motion now and in four days they'd have their answer one way or another.
"Thank you for this," He held up the paper but he meant so much more. She just shot him an understanding look before slipping off into the corridor quickly—she was out past curfew after all, and Harry was sure her work was only just beginning.
He took a depth breath, looking down at the paper in his hands.
He already knew what he needed to do, it was just… a surprise, to have it pop up so suddenly; he needed a moment to center himself. He could do this though, he'd been thinking it over since Christmas, and Daphne hadn't been very subtle by implying that while she was handling Slytherin and her father was handling everything else, Harry was going to need to handle Gryffindor.
It was his own house after all, he needed them to back him for once. Some were very obviously lost causes but they were never going to be on his side—everyone else though, if he did this right, would fall right into the trap he needed them in. Because what Daphne and Mr. Greengrass didn't know was that the Slytherin family seat was going to vote for Sirius' freedom in a couple days, and sure they'd get him an 'innocent' verdict but dealing with the aftermath of that was going to be on Harry and what was left of Sirius Black himself.
From what Daphne had said, there might not be a whole lot of his sanity left after eleven years in that place, so even if St. Mungo's could work miracles and get him functioning again, he didn't need to worry about what the fuck was up with Slytherin voting for his freedom too if Harry could play this right.
So he assembled himself and turned, giving Neville wide eyes and the blond might not know exactly what he was up to, but he wasn't leaving his side either. Harry was infinitely grateful for it.
Neville led the way back into the common room, portrait swinging closed behind them and Harry could clearly tell how quiet it'd gotten since everyone wanted to hear what he was about to say. He had no intention of making a speech though because… what would he even say?
"Harry?" Dean inched back over to him, a pale Seamus beside him and both highly concerned. "You good?"
Harry didn't actually know if he was to be honest, for real or for pretend or any of it. It didn't really matter though, he supposed.
"What's happening?"
"What was that about Sirius Black?"
"You don't mean that Sirius Black right?"
"Who is he?"
"What's going on?"
"There was a Slytherin here?"
Whispers and low talking spilled out across the room and he let it happen while he just stood there, because for once the rumors would work in his favor. Perhaps he played shell shocked too well though as he suddenly had most of the Gryffindor football club around him as if closing rank.
"Harry?" Elinor seemed to have taken charge, one of the oldest of the club being in the twins' year but way more level headed than them for the serious tone the situation had taken. Dean and Lu were club leaders but amongst Gryffindors she at least seemed to be the centering voice of the friend group that the club had created. Dean might've been a de facto captain of their teams but Elinor was the one reminding them not to schedule practices or games during midterms—along with other upper years in the club of course, but the rambunctious lions needed to hear it from one of their own and it usually ended up being her.
"Are you alright? What did she want?" She offered kindly. Elinor was not a fan of Slytherins, but had played with Daphne enough to definitely know her name. Phrasing the question like that was…
"I'm okay. Daphne's a friend, she was just warning me… I would've hated to learn this in the Great Hall tomorrow with everyone else." He held up the paper numbly and made sure his expression was properly mixed. "Er…Sirius Black is getting a trial."
The room went semi-silent, this confirmation creating a sharp divide between those who grew up in the magical world hearing stories about The Boy Who Lived, and everyone else who had no idea why that random name was so important. When half the room went quiet in shock though, most of rest followed suit on instinct.
Elinor seemed properly dismayed, along with most of the club around her, but concentrated on him.
"…are you okay?"
He glanced down at the paper as if double checking something. "Guess I'll decide Monday." He confessed.
"It's happening so soon?"
"Didn't he already get a trial?"
"Who is that?"
The whispering was less whispering and now more people talking, the confusion and now brief explanations happening everywhere seeming to be circling the same thing over and over again from many different angles. Harry felt kind of dizzy immediately but ignored it.
"Can I see it?" Otto asked cautiously, and Harry handed the paper to him. He furrowed his brow as he read it over, several people clambering to read over his shoulder eagerly as well.
"Apparently he didn't get a trial? According to this he was never actually charged!? That's insane!"
"But he did do it, right?" Dottie demanded, aghast.
"Harry, what's going on…?" Dean was clearly hesitant to ask but too lost not to, even with Seamus being so worked up beside him. Harry didn't mind at all honestly, because it gave him a chance to drop the information he wanted out there before the night ended.
Gryffindor needed to sleep on this information and have it settled in their minds before it hit print tomorrow and the rest of the world found out, because by then their opinions would already be set. No matter what anyone else thought, if Gryffindor already had an opinion on something then it wouldn't be changed by eagles or badgers—or even snakes.
And if they were on his side, then it would go pretty far to shield him from the shitstorm that was coming.
He cleared his throat as if he also had no idea how to put this into words.
And to a point it was true because he'd spent quite some time viciously keeping this secret that now announcing it in front of his entire house felt very off-putting to say the least.
"Um… Sirius Black was sort of… my parents' friend. My godfather." He admitted slowly, as if reluctant to do so. It was obvious how closely people were listening too, when the volume dropped again in response to that news. Clearly not many had known of their actual relation beyond him being his parents' friend once. "He… sold them out to Voldemort though, which is… why they died."
There was a brief moment of pause as even the lion house knew that was a delicate topic for him.
"But now they're saying he might not have? That he never got a trial?" Seamus was deeply disturbed by this news, taking the paper from Otto to see it for himself with wide eyes.
Harry shrugged awkwardly. "I guess, if it he didn't… I mean even if he didn't, he's not going to confess now is he? You told me what Azkaban's like…"
"There's a potion they give criminals to ensure they tell the truth. I'm sure they'll make him take it," An upper year chimed up from the side reassuringly. "Then at least we'll know for sure… I mean all evidence said he was guilty, right? I'm sure it's just tying up some loose ends."
"Right…" Harry frowned, watching as someone else took the paper from Seamus and the talking started to increase again. "But like… what if…?"
"'What if'?" Otto repeated, clearly still worried about him—before balking. "Wait, you don't mean what if he is innocent!?"
Harry looked down, but bit his lip.
"Oh Harry… I wouldn't get your hopes up," Elinor tried to sooth him but he took a step back from her aborted motion to try and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Well I can't help it! I never met my parents but I've read some of the things they left me! They loved him, they trusted him with everything, including me! He was supposed to be my godfather, and everything I learned about him was just—it was good! The idea he betrayed them has always been absolutely horrible so the chance he might not have—how could I not get my hopes up!?" He was purposefully not yelling but it was close.
He could tell that the emotional outburst was swaying quite a few people—not much, but some.
Then, surprisingly, reinforcements came.
"Come on Ellie, what's the harm in hoping just a little?" Fred offered up, the playful tone the twins always had somehow seeming to calm the tension Harry's display had caused.
"Honestly, our parents have always thought Fudge was a quack of a minister anyway,"
"It's not that much of a stretch to say he bungled it back then,"
"Or that he was done in by someone else even!"
"Yeah, wasn't Sirius Black like the only Gryffindor in a super-Slytherin family? That's gotta count for a little hope, right?" The twins were speaking to Elinor as if teasing their classmate like they always did, but shot winks at Harry who couldn't help but smile.
Okay, the twins learned fast.
And they were way more reputable in the lion house because even Harry's attempt to pick at their heartstrings hadn't gone half as far to convince them as the twins' intervention had. People were still talking amongst themselves, but almost as if switching on a dime Harry was now hearing more than a few comments about Fudge's ability rather than Sirius' potential innocence.
"So chin up Apples, let's hope for the best!"
"And if you do get a godfather out of the deal, what do you suppose he's gonna say about little Malfoy?" The twins switched their focus to him, and Harry did splutter at that, properly taken off guard.
"W-what? What about Draco!?" He cried indignantly. "I've never met him to know—" but he cut himself off, realizing he actually shouldn't be defending himself now. "I mean, he's not—I don't know but that's—Draco is not related to this?"
"He isn't?" Fred grinned a little too evilly and Harry regretted being relieved they'd stepped into this conversation. "Because rumor had it Sirius Black actually really hated Slytherins, right?"
"I mean that's what we heard at least," George shrugged far too innocently. They were clearly talking about the map and not going to name sources but Gryffindor never cared about silly things like sources. They heard a juicy rumor and were now extra interested, even if Harry didn't like this direction.
"So you and the little Malfoy,"
"Might cause an issue,"
"Right?"
They were joking, but also kind of not.
Harry did not like this line of thinking and froze for a moment.
"…he might not be innocent," he backtracked immediately, going forward and yanking the paper from the hands it'd ended up in after being passed a decent way into the room. He held it to his chest protectively, pouting now. "He could also like Slytherins!"
The twins just laughed.
"There's more of a chance he's innocent than him liking Slytherins," George teased him mercilessly. "We have it on good authority he was actually Gryffindors' number one snake-hater once upon a time!"
"Oh and guess who he used to prank the hell out of?" Fred prompted eagerly. Harry just blinked, because he honestly had no clue—he knew Padfoot was a prankster once but Moony hadn't mentioned anything so specific.
"Er… who?"
"Snape!" They beamed like this was brilliant news, and honestly?
Yes. Yes it was.
"Really?" Harry gasped, half because that was kind of funny but also half because that was probably the best outcome right now. He could practically see Gryffindor as a whole perk up at that news and it practically make their day—because honestly fuck Snape, from his greasy hair to his awful, biased teaching methods. That was the public sentiment anyway, so Sirius being an established Snape hater, if not the original bat-hater meant he was for sure a Gryffindor in the way this house wanted him to be.
And Gryffindors trusted other Gryffindors before anyone else.
Harry had to know though: "How did you guys find that out?" He demanded.
"Well," Fred coughed, as if they'd been caught.
"Filch may or may not keep files on his most troublesome students… like he thinks he'll take us or court someday for making his life difficult?"
"He collects evidence essentially, and he's got half a filing cabinet on us already," They admitted, earning several laughs at their expense that they just grinned at rather proudly.
"We may or may not have broken into his office a couple times-"
"-for important reasons, we swear!"
"So we know there are full filing cabinets dedicated to pranksters of the past too! Mr. Black was apparently a very prolific prankster and a good chunk of the things he got detention for-"
"-just so happen to relate to pranks or hexes relating to a one Severus Snape." They announced proudly, before wincing almost theatrically.
"Ah, honestly we're kind of getting our hopes up now too,"
"Since he was once a fellow prankster and all,"
"It was kind of really sad to think he went crazy or dark in the end,"
"When he started out putting limerick powder in Snape's cereal at breakfast, you know?" They shrugged helplessly, but Harry could practically see the room melt around them, any hesitation or doubt slipping away and replaced with winces of pity and sympathy.
It hit very hard, after all, seeing the cheerful Weasley twins standing in the middle of the warm Gryffindor common room and being forced to draw a very grim comparison. They way they'd phrased it, the way they'd told their tale… it was a direct line to place them into the same shoes Sirius Black was wearing.
A Gryffindor prankster, someone who hated Snape and was in it for the laughs…
…to a man in Azkaban for serious crimes. Crimes that they were now realizing, he might not have even committed.
It was almost impossible to imagine it being the twins instead, but that was exactly the picture they'd painted for everyone now. If you could imagine it, then at the very least it made your stomach turn in anxiety and sadness at the horrific fate to people who seemed… innocent.
The twins were the last people you'd want to send to Azkaban, since it'd take away their laughter. And that laughter was not just a critical part of who they were, but it also kind of felt like a key makeup of who Gryffindor house was too.
"Let's just hope Filch doesn't actually show up to the trial-"
"-with stacks of papers outlining every detention Mr. Black once got,"
"Or it'll be a ten-hour session going over every time he tried to feed Snape to the giant squid!" The twins were now laughing to each other, doing their tennis match thing to their own delight. Despite it feeling like it was all for fun though, Harry knew they were doing more for Sirius' innocence than Harry had so far besides selling his soul to the Greengrass family.
They were humanizing him.
They were making Sirius Black feel like another Gryffindor with each story they told, and whether they learned of these things from a filing cabinet or Padfoot himself via the map, it didn't matter. No one would ask them how they knew all of it, not in this tower… but people would believe it anyway.
Harry wanted to do it too and found himself speaking before he could think better of it.
"He was a beater too," He admitted, everyone around him snapping around from where'd they'd been mostly watching the twins to look at him in surprise at that news, even Fred and George who blinked. Clearly they hadn't known that little bit, but Moony had mentioned it in passing. "My dad was a chaser… he was a beater, their year." He explained a bit quietly.
The twins blinked but then beamed once more.
"Even more a kindred spirit then!"
"If he does end up innocent I feel like we have to meet him!"
"It's too crazy a coincidence not too, right?" They flailed dramatically.
"If he's made innocent then you have to invite us over, Apples!"
"We need his autograph for this one prank in particular he allegedly pulled—"
"Even McGonagall's signature is on that detention slip so I'm dead curious,"
They continued to gush about it but Harry could feel himself smiling more as the rest of the tower seemed to drift into their own conversations, but most of the initial tension of this reveal had already disappeared. The twins acting like it was already a forgone conclusion that Sirius would be innocent and that they wanted to meet him over the summer when obviously Harry would be living with him…
Yeah, by morning Gryffindor's opinion on this trial situation would be set in stone.
Because the lions decided what was right, after all.
Even if, in this instance, there was a whole lot of Slytherin in the background making sure it all went smoothly.