– – – – – Rebirth Chapter 22 – – – – –

Harry returned to Hogwarts Sunday night just before curfew and made his way to the Ravenclaw Tower. It was nice that Sirius was living in Hogsmeade since it meant that there was no valid excuse for Harry to be forced to take the stupid train all the way to London. That would have been two days of his 'vacation' wasted on travel.

He passed through the Ravenclaw common room and said hello to a number of his housemates before going through the doorway and heading up to the first years dorm room. He unpacked his things and pulled out the two Vanishing Boxes. He ran his wand over them checking over all of the runes he had carved during the evenings of the last week to check for imperfections or errors. A few little things glowed lightly red and he set to cleaning up the work he'd had to do 'blind', since use of his wand had been prohibited.

The errors were minor and he was just finishing them up when Kevin Entwhistle came up and went over to his desk to work on some homework assignment. Harry put the boxes away in his wardrobe and warded it before going over to his trunk, switching to the second compartment. He glanced up to Entwhistle hunched over his desk, back facing Harry and absorbed in his work.

He dug into the deep expanded compartment and pulled out a very long scroll of parchment, tearing it off where the charmed quill was still scribbling away relentlessly. He took the roll of parchment over to his bed, drew the hangings closed and sat there cross-legged as he poured over the details of Dumbledore's movements over the last week, and then over the activities of anyone who had gone into the third-floor corridor.

It was business as usual for the third-floor corridor, with Hagrid and Professor Sprout being the only people who had gone in there during the holiday week. Dumbledore's movements had diverted only slightly from his usual habits. Harry had been observing and tracking patterns in the man's activities for months and had finally figured out the method to the man's madness.

He definitely had some reoccurring habits, but he also seemed to intentionally avoid doing anything predictable. Still – if you looked closely enough, it actually became obvious that Albus Dumbledore was a man of habit, despite his efforts. Harry made notes in a bound notebook of the noteworthy activities the man had changed during the school's holiday, and then also noted the things that had remained consistent with the patterns. By this point, he was fairly sure he could accurately predict the exact days that Dumbledore would be out of the school during the next two months. It would be during one of those days that Harry would make his move on the Stone.

– –

It was Wednesday, and Harry was in potions. The class was just about over, and everyone was finishing up their potions and preparing to bottle them and hand them in. It had been a fairly event-free class for once. Not a single one of the Hufflepuffs had blown up a cauldron. Snape had established a long time ago that every group was to be made up of one Hufflepuff and one Ravenclaw. There was one group that had to have two Ravenclaws since there was one more Raven then there were Puffs in their year, but that was just additional security.

Snape, in general, did not seem to have a lot of faith in the skill of the Hufflepuffs. And it wasn't like they were all stupid, or anything. Harry had determined by the second week of classes way back in September that the only reason the Puffs performed so badly in his class was entirely because they were terrified of the man.

Harry was a practical person, and when something was blatantly impractical, he greatly disapproved of continued use of that something. Snape's teaching method, while theoretically valid, was clearly very impractical. The man wanted complete control over his class, and he had very good reasons for wanting such a thing. Potions was a very dangerous subject in the hands of people who didn't know what they were doing, and as first years, very few of his classmates had come in having any idea what they were doing.

So ruling the dungeon with an iron fist was a valid option, in theory. But as far as a learning environment, it clearly didn't work very effectively. And since the Hufflepuffs, and even some of the Ravenclaws, were so intimidated by Snape, they didn't learn shit, they continued to perform horribly and only prolonged the period of time where students were regularly blowing things up.

Very impractical. Harry was never one for coddling people, but teaching the class with a bit more delicacy would probably go a long way. It was the same with how he treated house elves. Many wizards looked down on house-elves as significantly lesser beings and as such, felt the right to treat them however they wanted, which included punishing them with whatever painful hex the wizard could think up on the spot.

But an ill-treated house elf was not a willingly loyal house elf. A happy, well-treated house elf would go to the end of the world to keep their master happy, and keep their treatment kind. Harry didn't think the little things were necessarily worthy of being treated as equal or anything ridiculous like that. He just preferred his servants loyal and happy. They did better work that way.

Harry focused on his potion as he saw his partner, Sally-Anne Perks, double-check the book and then hesitantly move to add the final ingredient. His eyes widened and he only just managed to dart his hand out and grab her by the wrist, just in time to stop her from dropping the dried newt spleen into the simmering cauldron. She yelped slightly in surprise and blinked at him in confusion.

He held back the biting remark that wanted to come out of his mouth and instead gave her patient smile.

"Er, you need to make sure the fire is off. It would be... bad, if you'd put that in while the fire was still on," he said softly.

Her eyes widened again and her eyes darted back down to her book as she read the section on 'warnings', which always listed common mistakes to avoid and swallowed thickly as she got to the point that described just what would have happened if she had succeeded in botching the potion.

Harry took over and got it finished up in the next five minutes without any difficulty. He put it into two bottles, handed one of them over to Perks and then made his way up to the front of the room to leave it on Snape's desk.

He set it down with the few others that were already turned in and was about to turn when Snape cleared his throat and caught his eye.

"See me after class, Mr. Potter," Snape said quietly.

Harry nodded at him, acknowledging the request and went back to his seat.

The bell chimed through the halls of Hogwarts five minutes later, signaling the end of class and Harry lingered behind, packing away his things slowly as his classmates all began to chatter excitedly as they eagerly left the dungeons for lunch in the Great Hall. As soon as the room was clear, Harry slug his knapsack over his shoulder and looked up at Snape expectantly.

Snape made a few casual flicks of his wand that Harry recognized as some simple privacy charms – a silencing bubble with a ten foot radius, and a proximity ward that would alert him if anyone approached the door.

"The potion is complete," Snape said simply, cutting straight to the point.

Harry's eyes widened slightly and the corner of his mouth turned up. "Brilliant. Were there any complications?"

"Of course not," Snape said, making a face that suggested he was offended by the mere suggestion that anything could have gone wrong with him doing the brewing.

"How about the potency? How many years will it age me, and how long can the potion last before the effects wear off?"

"It will add ten years to your current age, so it will make you age to roughly twenty-one years old. The length of time it lasts initially depends on how much you ingest. A few drops and it'll last an hour. You can get it to last twenty-four hours with a mouthful, however after that it has an exponential decline in how long it lasts in relationship to how much you consume. No matter how much you take, it won't last more than three days before wearing off, and taking that much comes with the risk of overdose sickness afterwards."

Harry nodded. "About what I expected. If you want, you can give me a detention for smart-mouthing you or something and I can help bottle it tonight."

"You're offering to assist me in bottling it?" Snape replied, looking a bit surprised.

"Of course," Harry said with a shrug. "I'd like some pretty specific durations set aside, and I know that the stasis charms will only work if they're not interrupted, so multiple doses in multiple bottles will the the only way to go..."

"You're clearly intending to use this for more than just removing your and Draco's Traces," Snape observed dryly.

Harry snorted. "Now what possible use could I have for an aging potion, I wonder..." he asked rhetorically.

Snape rolled his eyes. "I suppose I can imagine you might enjoy not being trapped inside the body of a child all the time. Are you sure you want me to give you a detention? It will be recorded if I do."

"Do you ever do 'extra-credit' sessions with anyone outside of Slytherin house?"

"No."

"Then it would look incredibly unusual if I was in your private lab after hours for any reason other than a detention. It's not a big deal. Take off ten points or something and say I snapped at you after you held me after to snark at me about some assignment."

Snape sneered down at Harry, but the boy only smirked at him wider in response. Snape sighed in exasperation, which seemed to be a very uncharacteristic gesture for the normally cold and stoic potions master.

"Fine. Ten points from Ravenclaw for your cheek. Detention with me tonight at seven," Snape said with a bored tone.

Harry grinned. "Yes, Professor," he said with mock shame. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Potter. You're dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he turned and left the classroom feeling the privacy wards being dismissed behind him.

– –

Harry spent a couple hours that evening carefully measuring out individual doses of the potion, labeling each one, and placing a different stasis charm on each one. He had transfigured himself a storage box before even coming to the dungeon that night and was organizing the doses by the length of time they would last, inside the storage box. While he worked on bottling the doses, Snape worked on some other potions he had brewing in his private lab.

Harry heaved a sigh and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm as he placed the last bottle into his storage chest and closed the lid. There were a few drops in the bottom of the cauldron, but he'd basically gotten all of it. He pulled out his wand and levitated the large cauldron over to the big basin sink and set a few charms to start cleaning it out for him before turning and heading across the room to appease his curiosity.

Harry stood on his tip-toes and peered into several of the cauldrons and his movement drew Snape's attention.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked curtly as he looked at Harry with narrowed, cautious eyes.

Harry shrugged. "Just curious. I'm assuming you must supply the school's healer with most of her potions. These all look like things for the infirmary."

"Correct."

Harry looked into an especially large vat of thick, slowly boiling goop. "That's a lot of burn-healing paste," Harry observed, raising his eyesbrows slightly in surprise. "It doesn't exactly have a long shelf-life. You expecting a lot of burn-victims in the near future?"

"Professor Kettleburn, who teaches the Care of Magical Creatures class keeps me up to date whenever he intends to cover an especially dangerous creature in his future classes. He'll be introducing fire salamanders to his fifth years next week."

"Ah. That makes sense. Although, the fire-protection potion is easier to brew and would prevent them from getting burned in the first place, as long as the students took it before handling the salamanders."

"True, but then they wouldn't learn anything, would they?" Snape said with a sadistic smirk that made Harry snicker.

Harry went over and looked into the next cauldron. "Deflating draught," Harry said as a statement, since it wasn't a question.

"Correct. The third-years will be brewing Swelling Solutions this week."

"Another pre-emptive precaution. Nice."

"I assume the fact that you're bothering me is a sign that you've finished with your own task."

"Correct."

"Well then, you are dismissed from your... detention."

Harry snickered as he turned, picked up his case, shrunk it down and put it into his knapsack. He slung the bag over his shoulder, bid Snape farewell and left the dungeons.

– –

"Draco!" a voice called out from directly behind him, causing him to jump slightly with surprise and Draco Malfoy swiveled around quickly in his seat to find Harry Potter standing there looking down at him with an amused smirk.

Draco sneered slightly at him before catching himself and forcing a blank mask on his face. He was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall and Harry did not often come speak to him during meals, so he couldn't help but wonder what this was about.

"You need something, Potter?" Draco asked with casual boredom and he turned back to his meal.

Harry grinned, leaned in close and spoke in a low voice. "Yeah, I need you. Tonight. Got any plans?"

Draco turned back and looked at him through narrowed eyes. They didn't usually meet on Wednesdays, and as a matter of fact he did have plans for that evening. The Slytherin quidditch team was holding a practice that evening in prep for their game against Ravenclaw in a week. Draco had been wanting to watch from the stands and had made plans with several of his dorm mates to do just that.

He frowned slightly but quickly pushed it off his face.

"No, I'm available. What do you need?"

"We'll discuss it tonight. You'll need to set aside at least two hours for this, just to be safe, although it could take less time. Will that be fine?"

"Of course," Draco replied easily with a disinterested tone.

"Good. Then meet me in that place we were using to work on that special project earlier in the year, at seven."

Draco nodded his understanding as he suddenly realized what this was probably about and then told Harry he'd be there. Harry smiled at him before turning and returning to the Ravenclaw table.

As soon as the raven-haired boy was gone, Draco sighed the slightest bit and some of the tension left his shoulders. He turned back again and refocused on his meal.

"Why the hell did you agree to that?" Theo, who was sitting directly beside Draco asked after a minute that he had apparently spent sitting there stunned.

"What ever do you mean?" Draco asked flatly, not bothering to meet is gaze.

"We had plans tonight! You've been going on about how much you're been looking forward to watching tonights practice since the weekend. You didn't even tell him you already had plans. You just dropped them without a moments hesitation!"

"Keep your voice down, Nott," Draco hissed as he finally bothered to look at the other boy.

"You know, this isn't even the first time I've seen you jump at his requests like a dog. It's pathetic, Draco."

"Fuck you, Theo," Draco said through clenched teeth in a quiet voice as his eyes darted around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He saw a couple curious side-ways glances and pulled out his wand, quickly erecting a sound-muffling bubble around them.

"I get that he's not the stupid little Light savior everyone thinks he is, but that doesn't mean you have to lower yourself to jump to his every beck and call like some pathetic house elf."

"Bite your tongue! You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't... you don't know who he really is!"

Theo's brows rose into his forehead before lowering back down and narrowing his eyes. "What's that mean?"

Draco looked around again, looking as if he were considering something before he quickly began to pack up his things.

"Where are you going?" Theo asked, suddenly.

"If you want to hear what I have to say, you'll pack up too. Hurry up."

Theo quickly took another bit of something off his plate before standing up and shouldering his bag. Draco was already standing at that point and was giving him an impatient, contemptuous glare. He quickly turned and stalked out of the Great Hall with Theo running hurriedly behind him.

Draco led him into an empty classroom where he made a quick trek around the room, checking a large cupboard and a closet to make sure they were legitimately alone. He aimed his wand at the door and went through a series of spells his father had drilled into his head before coming to Hogwarts. A one-way silence ward, and a proximity ward among them. They weren't the most powerful, and a person could probably pull them down if they tried hard enough, but the third ward he cast was one that would alert him if someone was trying to dismantle the other two.

Finally satisfied that the room was as safe as he knew how to make it, he turned back to sneer at Theo who was looking at him with a bored, expectant face.

"Well?" Theo said, impatiently.

"This doesn't leave this room. You tell no one, you understand?" Draco said coldly.

"I get it. I'm not an idiot."

"How good is your Occlumency?"

"Good enough. You know my father. He's almost as bad as yours. Wouldn't let me come to Hogwarts until I could at least put up a good fight when my tutor used Legilimency on me."

"Well, you're going to be making use of it now."

"Fine, fine. Get on with it! What the hell do you mean, 'I don't know who Potter really is'?"

"I don't know anything for sure," Draco began, "but I'm not an idiot and my eyes and ears don't lie. I know what I've seen, and what I've figured out makes the most sense."

"So what... this is just speculation?" Theo said, looking disappointed and annoyed now.

"Informed speculation." Draco drawled. "I don't think he's really Harry Potter. At least, not entirely."

"Then who, exactly, do you think he is?"

"I think he's the Dark Lord."

Theo's eyes went wide and he gaped at Draco for a moment before he recovered. "What? That's mental! Why the hell would you even suggest such a thing!"

"Use your brain, Nott! He knows magic that no eleven year old should know. He performs it non-verbally too. But he's careful who he does it around, and he usually covers it up by vocally performing some first-year spell in the middle of his non-verbal casting just in case someone is watching.

"He's got everyone fooled, even bloody Dumbledore! You already know that the hat wanted him in Slytherin but he talked it into putting him in Ravenclaw just so that he could stay under everyone's radar. He doesn't talk like someone raised by muggles, and he knows loads about pureblood traditions and culture."

"None of that makes me think 'Dark Lord'. It makes me think that he's a bloody brilliant Ravenclaw who reads too damn much."

"Fine, but that's not what really convinced me. What convinced me is watching my father with him. After I first met him, my father sent an invitation to tea at the manor. When he first arrived and joined us for tea, it was obvious that my father still saw him as an opportunity. At that point, he was pulling that whole 'innocent kid' act and we all bought it. Father was practically salivating at the political opportunities that would come with gaining the trust of a naïve Harry Potter. But after tea, father and Potter disappeared off to Father's study, at Harry's request and they were gone for hours.

"When they finally came out... well I'd never seen father look so pale. He looked absolutely stunned, and the way he was speaking to Harry was totally different. His body language was totally different. He wasn't treating Harry like some political pawn, he was treating him with respect. With deference! I'd never seen him treat anyone like that before."

Theo's brows had slowly risen higher and higher into his forehead as Draco spoke, but he still looked slightly skeptical. "Is that all?"

"He came to our house another three times during August, and while he spent some time with me, he spent most of his time with father in his study. I know for a fact that he's continued to remain in regular contact with father all school year. But that's not what's really convincing. What has added more evidence to my theory is the way Uncle Sev treats him now, versus how he treated him at the start of the school year.

"You've heard from Boot, Patil, and Li's whinging, how Severus treated Harry at the start of the school year. It was like a personal vendetta for him because of Potter's father. He would constantly try to push Harry's buttons, and he was relentless, even when Harry never once responded."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, apparently the day after Severus substituted for Professor Lupin back in September, he totally stopped doing all that 'taunting Potter' stuff in Potions class. He practically ignored Harry's presence, completely. Boot said that he stopped calling on him for a couple weeks, when before that he'd called on him more than anyone else in class.

"And then, back just before the end of term in December I was talking with Boot again and he said something that really sparked my interest. Apparently in Potions class earlier that day, Sev had been looking at Harry as if he were looking at a thestral for the first time after first witnessing someone die. It was apparently subtle and only happened a few times when he didn't think anyone was looking, but he definitely appeared put off his game.

"On top of all that, I happen to know that right now, Severus has been brewing a high level, complex, potion for Potter, and as far as I know, he's not even getting anything in return for it. Now why would he do that for the son of James Potter, who he apparently held a personal grudge against since they were kids? Not to mention, why would he do that for the 'Boy-Who-Lived' if that's all Harry Potter really was?"

Nott's eyes took on a calculating look and he focused on the wall behind Draco as he debated the potential validity behind Draco's suggestion. "Your idea has merit," Nott admitted slowly. "And honestly... well, it does sort of explain away a lot of things..."

"Exactly!"

Nott's face continued to look pensive for a moment before some sort of realization dawned on him and his expression slowly morphed into horror. "I've been in a study group with the Dark Lord since September?" he whispered hoarsely.

"You see now why I treat him the way I do?" Draco bit out.

"But we don't really know that he's the Dark Lord..."

"No, of course not. You think he would trust children with information like that?"

Theo snorted and shook his head. "But how do you think it happened? The Dark Lord being in Harry Potter?"

"It probably happened that night everyone thinks he was destroyed or something. They say that his body just disappeared that night and all that was left was Potter with a scar on his head."

"So you think the Dark Lord is possessing Potter's body?"

"That's one possibility. Another is that he simply took it over completely, and the real Harry Potter was the one who died that night."

Nott nodded his head, looking pensive again. "It does sort of make sense. But why would he get Sirius Black of of Azkaban if Black was never a Death Eater? Or was he? Maybe he really was a Death Eater, and Potter rigged all that too."

"No, I don't think Black was a Death Eater. I think he really was innocent," Draco said.

"But then why would the Dark Lord go to the trouble of getting him out, then?"

"Well you know that Dumbledore was Potter's legal guardian, right? I mean, in the magical world, at least. And it was Dumbledore who dumped it on those muggles. He wanted to get out from under Dumbledore's legal control. Can you imagine the Dark Lord sitting around and being okay with knowing that Albus-bloody-too-many-names-Dumbledore had legal say over his life?"

"No way," Theo said, quickly shaking his head.

"Exactly. So Black might not have been a Death Eater, and he may have been an Auror, but he's still better than Dumbledore."

"Yeah, I see your point," Nott said and then heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hand over his face. "Merlin, I don't even know how I'm going to handle this. I mean, if you're right... how the hell do I keep acting around him like I don't know?"

"That's your problem, but you damn well better figure it out. If he wanted us to treat him like the Dark Lord our fathers would have warned us. His biggest priority here at school is obviously to fit in. If we start treating him weird, it's only going to make him stand out more, so you'd better get your acting skills up to par, or else."

"Fuck, Draco! This is... this is too much! The Dark Lord?"

"How do you think I felt when I figured it out?"

"Bloody hell..."

The two were quiet for a moment, and Draco just stood there, waiting until Nott got his emotions back under control.

"But you know... this is an incredible opportunity," Draco said finally, a small, devious smirk now curling his lips.

Theo looked at him skeptically. "How so?"

"Just think! Obviously, if 'Harry Potter' just up and vanished, the Wizarding World would go crazy trying to find him and want to protect him or whatever, so he couldn't just vanish and start up his war again while stuck in Potter's body. Also, there's no denying that some of the Death Eaters would probably refuse to follow him, or try to challenge his authority if they saw him as a kid and considered him weak. So he's biding his time. He's staying underground until the time is right. He'll probably wait years more before he makes another move to restart the war, and we have a chance to be his right-hand men when that happens! If we play our cards right here at Hogwarts, we can be his most trusted lieutenants after graduation!"

Nott's eyes widened but the rest of his face remained passive. "Valid point." he said after a silent moment. "Very valid point."

Draco gave him a wide, devious grin, and Nott's stone face finally broke a bit, and he grinned back.

"Very valid point."

– –

That evening Harry skipped dinner, telling his classmates that he was feeling a bit queasy and was going to head up to the hospital wing and ask Pomfrey for a potion to settle his stomach. Instead, he headed to the Room of Hidden things, asking for a comfortable sitting room, and quickly settled himself on one of the emerald green couches the room provided him.

He dug into his knapsack and pulled out several things – one was a pair of stretchy gray sweat pants and a t-shirt that he had transfigured to be much larger, and the other was a small vial and eyedropper that he'd put a bit of the ageing potion into. Draco wouldn't be showing up for about an hour, so that would give him time to make sure that the potion worked correctly before the other boy showed up.

He quickly disrobed, folding his uniform, dress shirt, and slacks neatly and placing them on a footstool a foot from the couch. He dressed in the excessively oversized clothing and had to hold the pants on him while he went back and sat down on the couch again.

He uncorked the vial, and pulled some of the potion up into the eyedropper; then re-corked the vial and placed it on a small end-table to his left. He opened his mouth and gently squeezed two tiny drops onto his tongue. He quickly set the eyedropper aside just as he felt the first tell-tale signs that the potion was working.

It was painful. That was for sure. But he'd experienced far more painful things than this before, so he managed to hold in the urge to cry out in surprise. It felt like his bones were growing at one rate while his tendons and muscles raced to keep up. He felt like his head was expanding and yet not expanding fast enough and the pressure was likely to make him pass out, but he knew he couldn't.

By the time the pain had died away, he found himself curled in the fetal position on the couch, panting roughly, and had no recollection of ever even falling down onto the couch from his earlier sitting position.

He pushed himself up and groaned out loud at the painful stiffness aching through his whole body. But the groan was deeper than it would have been only a few moments earlier. And his perspective, as he sat up fully, was higher than before as well.

He looked down at his hands and they were large, masculine hands instead of the annoyingly delicate hands of a child he had grown accustomed to through necessity. He felt a grin spreading across his face and stood up, mentally asking the room for some full-length mirrors. A moment later, one wall was lined with floor to ceiling mirrors and Harry came to a stop, standing before them.

His hair was still the same length, so that hadn't grown – which he was relieved for. It was still long, going down to brush his shoulder blades, and still completely black. Snape's estimate had been right, because he looked to be around twenty-one. He would estimate his height somewhere around five-foot, ten-inches. His shoulders were broad and he had a reasonable amount of muscle tone. Nothing seriously defined, but it was simply an older version of his existing weight-to-height-to-muscle ratio.

The clothes he'd put on were still a bit baggy on him. Finding himself too curious not to, he reached down and pulled the t-shirt off over his head and examined himself, shirtless, in the mirror. He chuckled lightly at his vanity as he appraised his future form appreciatively, internally debating whether or not Tom would find him attractive in this body.

He sure hoped so.

–

Draco walked into the room a bit under an hour later with casual ease that quickly vanished as he came to a dead stop and stared at Harry, lounged casually across the couch with his head rested on one armrest while his legs, crossed at the ankles, were propped up on the armrest on the other end. His arms were up above his head with his fingers threaded behind his head and he was smirking at Draco as he stood there gaping at him.

Harry yawned and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still smirking at Draco.

"I take it, that the potion works?" Draco drawled as he recovered and resumed his casual gait further into the room.

Harry's smirk grew. "The ageing potion did – yes. From the charms I've cast, it appears that the Trace is gone too, but it's hard for me to tell one-hundred percent for sure if I'm stuck casting the spells at myself."

"So you'll be wanting to do those detection spells on me again after I've taken the potion?"

"That's correct."

Draco nodded curtly. "Alright. How long will this last?"

"Mine should be wearing off within the next ten minutes. We may want to wait till then just to make sure it's going to wear off before you take it too."

"I would appreciate that," Draco drawled.

Harry went on to show Draco the small vial and explain that the dosage determined how long the potion would last, and that he would have to make sure he only took two drops. Then he went on to describe the pain that Draco should expect, and that he'd be best served by changing into some enlarged clothing before taking the potion.

"Is that why you're sitting in here shirtless?" Draco had said with a small sneer on his face that just made Harry chuckle.

"What? I can't enjoy the fact that I'm going to look fairly nice when I finally reach twenty? I'd ask you to forgive me my vanity, but I don't honestly give a damn."

Draco rolled his eyes, but smirked slightly.

A few minutes later, mid-sentence, Harry suddenly bent over, clutching his middle and tightly clenching his teeth while a pained keening noise escaped his throat.

Draco stood up right away and just stood there helplessly, watching while Harry's whole body twisted and shrunk down in what looked like an incredibly painful transformation. It finally ended a little less than a minute after it started, with Harry panting heavily for a long silent moment before a weak chuckle escaped him.

"Not sure which hurts worse. Ageing ten years in a minute, or de-ageing." Harry said weakly. Then he looked up and met eyes with Draco. "Well, Drake – ready to get your Trace removed?"

Draco swallowed the lump that had managed to lodge itself in his throat and tried to push down his nerves so that he could nod.

–

Draco had done a good job of enduring the transformation with dignity. But he was a Malfoy, so Harry would have been disappointed if Draco had done any less. Harry had then run his rest spells and after only twenty minutes, he was completely convinced that the Trace had been completely removed.

Despite his remarks earlier in reference to Harry going about without his shirt, Draco had also given in to curiosity and vanity and examined his older self in the mirror, shirtless. Harry had to admit that Draco was going to end up being a very attractive man. He was the perfect combination of a Malfoy and a Black. And both Malfoys and Blacks were known for their pretty, aristocratic features.

Harry had hummed appreciatively as he watched Draco examining himself in the mirror and the boy – or rather, temporarily the man – had actually blushed. Which Harry found entirely amusing.

Harry stayed and kept Draco company until the ageing potion finally wore off and once Draco had recovered from that, Harry performed a few of his detection spells one last time just to make sure the Trace really was still gone.

And it was.

Success.

– –

The next two weeks passed without any notable deviation from Harry's normal routine. Aside from his standard classwork, he was dedicating all of his free time to finishing the Vanishing Boxes. And he managed to get them done two days before April's full moon.

He spent the weekend before the full moon (which would be falling on a Monday-night this month), thoroughly testing the box to determine it's limitations, and through all of his many many diverse tests he was able to determine that it had none. He would put an object in one box, tap the box and speak the command, and the next moment a small glow would appear around the other box. Open it and the object was now in the second box, and no longer in the first.

It worked transporting an object from anywhere in Hogwarts to anywhere else in Hogwarts. It worked transporting something from in the Chamber to his dorm. It worked transporting something from the room of hidden things to his dorm. But far more important than any of that, it worked transporting from anywhere he tested in Hogwarts to Godric's Hollow.

He had Dobby take the second box to the house and wait for the box to light up. Then he was supposed to come back and tell Harry if it worked. And it had.

The level of testing after that was to make sure it still worked even if he put a powerfully charmed, cursed, or hexed object in it, and while he could never hope to re-create something as magically powerful as the Philosopher's Stone, and especially not on such short notice, he was still able to make a number of variations for testing, and all had worked.

–

Sunday afternoon, Harry found himself pacing through the hallway outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts class under his invisibility cloak and internally arguing with himself. He'd been putting off actually tackling the Defense-post curse for as long as he could, but at this point, he knew he couldn't reasonably risk waiting any longer. Not with the fullmoon being the following night, and the end of term quickly drawing nearer.

He had to admit that part of him had a sentimental attachment to the curse. He and Tom and developed it together, in their own fit of bitter annoyance with Dumbledore. And the fact that it had caused the man grief for the last fifteen years brought a smug grin to his face. But the curse would only inconvenience him now.

And he had grown to actually care, somewhat, about Remus and his well being. The man, along with Sirius, was one of those rare connections to that surprisingly happy year and three months he had spent with his parents as an infant. As frustrating as that time had been in many ways, it had also been amazingly stress free, enjoyable, and quite frankly, shocking, in how overwhelming it had felt to have people who loved him so completely and unconditionally.

Plus he just liked Remus. The man was calm, and intelligent, and good company, and he was a good teacher. Not that Harry had anything to learn from the man, but at least his class was enjoyable. And from some of the horror stories he had heard Remus and Sirius about the seven Defense teachers they had endured, and some of the horror stories he had heard from the upper-year Ravenclaws, Harry knew that he did not want to endure a different shitty teacher every year he was stuck attending school for the second time.

Finally, Harry huffed and reassured himself with the knowledge that he could just recast the stupid curse when Remus was ready to willing retire from the post.

He stopped his pacing and made his way into the Defense classroom, walked to the far corner and tapped his wand on a brick there. It glowed a faint blue for a moment before it faded away. He walked out of the room and began the tedious process of going to a dozen other rooms, each one with a stone or brick, or pillar in various random locations; tapping each one while not saying anything out loud because he simply didn't need to.

He had known exactly where each and every place was with the full precision of his crystal clear memory, mostly because he had been the one to cast them there in the first place. After Dumbledore had so flippantly dismissed Tom's attempt to apply for the job, and the two of them had developed the curse in a fit of anger at the damned stubborn old coot, Heri had volunteered to be the one to sneak back into the school to set it into place.

The school's wards had always been slack when it came to animagi, and it had been a simple matter to just fly in, sneak around, and cast the dozen different anchor points. The only room that had to have an anchor, specifically, was the Defense classroom itself, as the main focal point, but after that, Harry had just put the other anchors in whatever classrooms actually had easily accessible open windows at the time. He had aimed for un-used classrooms that Defense could have been moved into in an attempt to dodge the curse in the future, but knew that at some point, if they kept changing the room enough, they would probably stumble across one he hadn't hit and the curse would be effectively dodged.

Apparently that hadn't happened. In any case, it hadn't been that difficult to cast it in the first place, and had been even easier for him to disable.

And so, in the span of twenty minutes, he had completely disabled the curse and guaranteed that Remus would not encounter any weird, inexplicable, magically-induced events that would result in him having to quit, or be sacked... or be imprisoned.

– –

The full moon was once again spent in his bat form with Remus prowling around the Shrieking Shack in his Lycan form, and Sirius in the form of a very large black dog. Remus and Sirius had actually tussled playfully, and Harry was surprised that Sirius was willing to do such a thing since all it took was one bite to break the skin for the disease to be transmitted.

Harry had flown around the high-ceilinged room, diving and then soaring back up, playfully teasing Sirius who would jump into the air and try to chase after him. By the time the sun was raising, their energy had decreased significantly, and Harry and Sirius transformed back to their human forms and helped an exhausted and worn-out Remus to get back to the school.

Sirius actually went inside this time, helping Remus all the way up to the infirmary with a tired Harry following behind. Sirius insisted that, now that he was the legal guardian to one of the school's students, he had every right to pay his godson a visit, and saw no reason not to go all the way to help Remus up all those damned stairs.

Pomfrey had seemed a bit surprised to see Sirius there, but then smiled at him knowingly as she helped Remus into a bed and began applying some salve to the torn and tattered skin on his elbows, which were bloody, and to some of the scratches he'd made on his face during the actual transformation.

Again, one look at Harry and Pomfrey insisted that he go to bed, and Sirius added in his consent, allowing Harry to skiv off his classes for the day.

– –

"So where were you today?" a voice said from directly behind him at his perch in the library. Harry turned around in his chair slowly and looked up at the buck-tooth, frizzy-haired, muggleborn, that he had almost managed to forget about since she had mysteriously stopped driving him mad at some point around January.

"What?" he asked, as he turned to fully focus on her.

"I asked where you were today," Granger repeated.

"I was in bed," he replied flatly. "I was sick all night and didn't sleep any. I went into the hospital wing this morning and Madam Pomfrey cleared me to skip classes, so I went back to bed."

Granger seemed to square her shoulders subtly and walked around the library study table he was sitting at and pulled the chair opposite him out, while silently asking him if she could sit down with her eyes.

He was watching her with an air of suspicion, but he kept his face covered with innocent curiosity and nodded for her to sit down. She did just that and then leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

"I know," she said simply, and with confidence, as if that was supposed to mean something.

He blinked at her blankly. "You know, what?"

"I know why you were gone. Why you're always gone the day after the full moons."

"Really? And why is that?" Harry asked, still deadpanned.

"Well," she faltered and looked around cautiously for a moment before leaning in even closer and whispering, "you're a werewolf."

She sat up straighter and her face betrayed the slightest bit of smug satisfaction at being convinced she was right.

Harry just continued to stare at her blankly for a moment longer before he snorted and rolled his eyes.

He sat up a bit straighter, folded his arms over his chest ans smirked at her. "You're wrong."

Ah. That was satisfying.

"What do you mean, I'm wrong?" she said, sounding amusingly affronted.

"I mean, that you're wrong. I'm not a werewolf."

"Yes you are!"

"No... I'm really not." Harry took that opportunity to subtly pull his wand into his hand and cast a quick non-verbal silence bubble around them since they were clearly about to discuss something that was potentially sensitive and he definitely didn't want to risk any eavesdroppers.

"Then why are you always gone from classes the day after the full moons?" Granger asked, stubbornly.

"Really? I'm always gone the day after full moons? I hadn't realized. Are you really sure? I mean, I know I haven't missed a day of classes every single month, and isn't there a full moon every month?"

"Well... I suppose you haven't been absent every full-moon since the start of the year, but you've been gone for most of them. And the day after the full-moon is the only day you're ever gone!"

"Coincidence."

"It can't be a coincidence!"

"Sure it can. Sometimes the simplest explanation really is the right one. I've been sick, or tired, or felt like skivving off my first couple classes in a day like... five or six times so far this year? I always make sure I'm ahead in all of my classes, and I only ever skip days that I feel I can miss without really missing anything. If it just so happens that all of those instances happened to fall after a full moon, it was a coincidence and nothing more. Because I'm definitely not a werewolf."

"But Professor Lupin is," Granger said with absolute conviction and giving him a hard look that was just daring him to contradict him. "He always gets sick around the full moon. He looks tired and listless for the day or two before it, and looks just horrid for a couple days after. He's got all those scars that are obviously the result of a werewolf transformation, and he has missed every single day after a full moon, all year. Professor Snape has substituted for at least one day, every month, since the start of term, and it's always on the full-moon. You cannot tell me that this is just a coincidence! I know what I've seen!"

Harry's bored, disinterested look had slowly shifted cold and hard during her little rant and when she finally stopped talking enough to observe her surroundings again, she flinched when she looked into his piercing green eyes.

"Okay, lets say, hypothetically, that I didn't instantly dismiss what you all just said. What, exactly, do you intend to do with the information?" Harry asked in a cold, low, voice.

She paled slightly and backed up a little in her chair. "What do you mean?" she asked with a slightly shaky voice.

"What are you going to do with this theory of yours? Do you intend to go to the press or something? Or complain to the board of governors? You're going to try and get him sacked?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Why would I do that?"

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Because he's a good professor. His class is enjoyable and very educational. I've heard the upper years talk about some of the professors they've had in the past! Why would I want to get rid of one of the few good ones?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, giving her an appraising look. "Okay, so why bring this up? Why even come to me about this theory of yours?"

"Well... well, I thought you were one too. That... maybe you and Professor Lupin were spending it together or something..."

"I'm not a werewolf," Harry repeated.

"Okay, so you're not one. But he is."

Harry heaved a sigh and looked away. Denying it would be pointless. She'd convinced herself and he knew there was nothing he could say that would change her mind.

"Do you... do you spend the full moon with him?" she asked, hesitantly.

Harry narrowed his eyes and examined her closely for a long moment before huffing slightly. "Yes."

"But... isn't that dangerous?"

"Not really. Not with the wolfsbane potion. He retains all of his mental faculties. We take other precautions, but his mind is all there, and I really don't think he'd ever hurt me, but like I said – we take other precautions anyway."

Granger took on a pensive look for a moment before she looked back up and gave him a small, smile. "That's really very kind of you, to do that." And with that, she stood up and walked away.

Harry blinked at her back as she departed, frowning slightly and debating whether or not a memory charm would be a good idea. The thing was that he didn't know how long she'd been formulating this werewolf theory of hers, and he'd always hated trying to manipulate people's memories when it dealt with going back more than a month or two.

Finally he just heaved a resigned sigh and mentally decided to keep a closer eye on Granger from now on.

– –