A.N.:// This is a PSA, because I am mad.

After I received a rather nasty comment under the last chapter, which is the second one from the very few comments I've been receiving since uploading this fic here on wattpad, I would like to remind you that I am a human being who writes this fanfiction for fun and I do my own fanart as well. I spend hours daily on this and I am not being paid or otherwise compensated and quite frankly, that means you have no right to demand anything from me, be it audio versions or translation or whatever. I am open for criticism and requests but your criticism should align with what I've actually written and your requests should be reasonable within my limited capabilities. And if your problem is the themes I choose for this fic, then that's not criticism, it means this story is not for you and I advise you to leave.

Another thing, if you thought the previous chapter was boring, dear a-hole commentor from the previous chapter, that means you have the reading comprehension skills of a bug. 

To everyone else, I apologize for my foul language, I had quite the week.

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Trigger Warnings:
Minor character death
Referenced abuse/torture
Minor Angst/no comfort

"I am talking, of course, about Gilderoy Lockhart."

That final sentence seemed to have done its trick, because suddenly people were no longer silent, they were outright muttering with each other. Of course, everyone knew who Gilderoy Lockhart was. Those who hadn't been lectured by him, had at least heard about him or his fate. That he was a fraud, however, was News to most of them. Not that Draco had ever liked Gilderoy Lockhart much. His father had always expressed doubt on the man's success, and then Lockhart had been obsessed with Potter. But to think nearly all of his adventures and tales were just that - tales? Draco had to find that out on his own, so he felt an odd combination of shock and pride.

"Now, why am I talking about Gilderoy Lockhart?!" Draco asked and waited till the audience had calmed down. "I'm talking about him because he does not exist." Draco said shakily, hoping to regather their attention. "As such, he's the perfect representation for our mental health awareness. Gilderoy Lockhart is a fabrication of lies, lies that he himself believes in rather than figure out who he is underneath. He's dysfunctional and expectations about him are predetermined by his success and wrong assumptions about his illness." Draco raised his wand and flipped the slideshow to a picture of the entrance hall of the ministry. The fountain of magical brethren was supposed to look like everyone in the magical community held equal value but it was self explainatory that the wizards were still the one's on top of it all. "And I'm saying that it's representative because our mental health system is dysfunctional and basically a case of collective amnesia altogether." Draco flipped to a slide holding pictures of Muggle patients, again, taken from the hospital files. "A good example for that is that we don't talk about the first war against Voldemort or what lead to it. Many people still don't even say his name.
"In my time as muggle therapist, I was responsible for taking care of Muggle patients who were traumatized in magical events and were obliviated by the ministry under St. Mungo's supervision. The problem was that to deal with their trauma reactions, they had to remember their past, otherwise they were incapable of moving on. The trauma reactions itself would awaken their memories which would help them deal with them, but awoken memories would mean a ministry offical had to obliviate them again, and the obliviation itself added to the trauma. This was an endless cycle. And our brains aren't made out for that kind of magic. The result of many repeated amnesia spells are anxiety, depression, schizophrenia or brain damage, if we're staying with muggle terms. In other words, the magic secrecy causes the ministry to abuse muggles worldwide." Draco bit his lip, then flipped the page to show another book. He made a pause hoping that he wasn't overexcerting the attention he was given. He felt like Professor Binns and hoped he was only half as boring.

"A wizard brain can deal with magical interferences much better than Muggle ones can. Dr. Clarissa Pamilla Scelon, a wizard author who attended a muggle university on biology, came to the conclusion that the margin between wizard and muggle brains is fluid. Both brains are wired both with electricity and magic. It depends entirely on the balance between the two whether you are born a mage or not. Genetically, it makes more sense to end up like your parents but it does not exclude the possibility of being born a Squib or be Muggleborn. Although muggleborn wizards usually tend to have an affinity for magic because they only get noticed when their magic is relatively strong. It could be that their parents showed higher signs of magic themselves without it ever being noticed or nurtured. If it is not repressed, it might turn into high levels of considered luck, never having accidents, high functioning skills in specific school subjects, etc. etc. Squibs, however, often have very low magic levels, but they are not nonexistent. The surroundings can decide how far their senses develop to, for example, be able to see Dementors. And there are programs that allow Squibs to train themselves in simple every day spells to keep them included in the magic community. But the point is, the higher the magic levels, the better you can deal with it when you were enchanted and the better you can deal with traumatic events. You are more resilient than most. The same way it's easier to accept magic when you grew up with it."

Draco made another pause and switched to the next slide to show them an pamphlet that he had found in the library register. "The ministry brought out a pamphlet over sixty years ago, referring to this very book. It is a decree that Muggle's are to be treated within St. Mungo's hospital to overview their recovery. Only that within St. Mungo's, they keep being retriggered and less than thirty percent of attacked muggles make it out of there without any physical ailment. Not only that, the idea that that wizards bounce back faster has turned into the myth that we don't struggle with mental health at all. And this is the problem I've been wanting to address for many years!"

As usual, when Draco thought about this, a silent rage filled him, sent adrenaline through his body and made him stand a little taller in his defiance. "Hogwarts is a minefiled of traumatic events! We have a second floor bathroom that the girls don't use because of a ghost. Some of the ghosts in these halls can take off their heads. For 300 years, we had a giant snake in the walls! Our headmaster introduces the first years to the forbidden forest as a place of certain death and then allows students to attend detention there, even in a year, mind you, when Voldemort himself was purposefully lured into these halls! And the janitor threatens first years with torture devices that he keeps in his office, just to name a few examples!" Draco took a deep breath.

Draco let out a long breath, feeling that he'd already said too much. When his eyes snapped to Professor Dumbledore, the man was nodding patiently while stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Draco still hated the guy. "Every year, especially among the fifth years, students collapse under the pressure of exams that are all stuffed into two weeks time! The school's response to this is to give them potions and send them back to class. In Muggle circles, these experiences are considered burnouts or mass depression that get students into therapy if they don't adjust the school protocol! Here, no one cares. Because we're so obsessed with the idea that physical problems can be dealt with through potions, that students aren't being taken seriously when they literally ask for help." Draco made a disbelieving pause there. For the first time in years, Draco felt like his old self again, addressing all these problems he saw within the Hogwart's school system. The only thing missing was to say "Wait till my father hears about this." For some reason, the thought calmed him down immensely.

Draco shook his head. "I'm not saying this because I simply want to complain. There are things that wizards, other than muggles, need to be prepared for, like boggarts, or dementors, or other magical creatures. But the point of school is to help us confront those fears and not throw us into these situations and then not bother where we end up. We have to take into account that some of these events are traumatizing and that when a student throws up because of all the work load and expectations during exam, a potion is not going to fix the problem. It's just masking it. And as soon as the potions no longer work, like they don't with werewolfs for example, then these people are simply being shunned out of society. The system exists to protect the people in it. And our system is not doing that.

"And like that, we all, somehow, end up like Gilderoy Lockhart ourselves. Because it's easier to ignore all of those problems and pretend everything is normal and fine and that we all fit into the same categories. It's easier to make out enemies in the crowd and pretend like all the success we have isn't built on other people's suffering. And once we allow ourself to forget what we've done, then it's easy to smile and believe our own lies."

Draco huffed out a breath and turned off the projector. "Thank you for your attention, if you have any questions, you may ask them now." Draco swallowed down the nerves that just returned to his senses. What followed, however, was pure silence. Draco didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing, and then, suddenly, Dumbledore began to clap. He was the first one to do it and Draco cringed at the sound of it. Potter and some others followed after quickly. "Erm-" Draco began once they finally (thankfully) stopped. "You might want to stick around and talk or something. There are flyers on ... this stuff." Draco's social battery plummeted at once, telling him to get away before anyone would approach him after all.

It took a while, but the crowd did get up and began to talk. Potter came right over to him to congratulate him on his first lesson, Hermione Granger approached him give him pointers on how to improve his lesson next time. Draco let her criticize him but ultimately hoped she would stop. It had been hard enough as it was, he was just glad that he hadn't ironically forgotten half of the things he'd meant to say. And about fifteen minutes later, a Slytherin held out one of the queer flyers and asked him, although rather politely: "I've been wondering, what does any of this have to do with mental health?" Draco could only blink at him.

"You're asking me what identity in a society that barely tolerates any individual differences has to do with mental health?" He asked, just to be sure he understood the question right. "Pretty much everything." Draco responded and prepared himself for a much more in depth explanation.

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Harry Potter's PoV:

Somehow, Harry got the feeling that Draco had been more nervous pre and after the presentation than during it. Right now, Draco was chatting with another Slytherin about one of the queer club flyers that Sirius had put out everywhere. Draco was distracted, that was good.

Harry turned around and moved through the masses to find his Sirius who was picking on Severus for "coming to support his godson." Snape's mouth was twisted into something darker than disgust and annoyance but he tried to act like the more adult one of the two and ignored him. Harry moved to stand before them and folded his arms. "How are things going?" He asked, not trying to sound polite. They knew what he was really asking.

Professor Severus Snape seemed to be asking the universe what he'd deserved this torment with, then he turned back to Harry to answer his question in an almost sour tone. "Mr. Longbottom's sword training seems to be coming along well enough. And the polyjuice potion should be done after the Christmas Ball."

Harry raised his brows at Sirius who, in front of Harry, tried to stand a little straighter and pout a little less. "The DA training's is going fine, Harry. They are being excellent students. Especially that quirly girl from the Ravenclaws. And the one from the Slytherins."

"Luna and Pansy." Harry smiled. "Yeah, I figured Pansy would make a good addition. In our past life she was excellent at curses and Luna has always been very inconventional with her spellwork."

Severus' expression soured a bit. "Is it necessary to have Mr. Malfoy perform such ludicrous presentations instead of actually helping?"

A protective sort of feeling rose in Harry's chest. "It's his passion, Severus. He actually does mean it. It's his way of helping out and it's his way of dealing with his own problems." Harry chanced a look over his shoulder to see Draco in a corner, downing a whole glass of orange juice at once. "Besides, it's not like he's wrong."

"His talents are wasted as a therapist." Severus said monotonously. "He would be a good asset in this war. He has the talent and the knowledge."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. It was hard to disagree with that. "This war will break him, Severus. And I cannot allow that."

Snape sneered. "Wars tend to do that, Mr. Potter. If you'll excuse me, I shall return to my office. This place is far too -," he made a disgusted face at the colorful badge on Harry's uniform. "Vibrant." Then he swirled around, his cape dramatically flowing in the wind as he marched out of the room.

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe I named my son after him."

Sirius jaw unhinged at that. "YOU DID NOT name your child after Snivelus!"

"Too late." Harry nearly laughed at the flabbergasted expression of his godfather.

A high pitched sound escaped Sirius then. "What about me? Your favorite uncle?"

Harry laughed even louder. "James Sirius Potter. My oldest son. And you're not really my uncle"

Sirius sniffed, half laughing, half crying. Then he decided to settle on the former and pulled Harry in a hug and ruffled his hair. "You become more and more like your father every day, Harry. But I will never forgive you for doing that to the young Severus. Poor child. I've got to give him a bigger birthday present this year."

Harry's smile disappeared slowly, then he clapped Sirius on the shoulder to get away from him. "You do know that they don't exist in this timeline and probably won't ever be born, right?"

Sirius stopped. "Oh. Yeah, right, sorry. I didn't think -" He caughed, noticing what he'd just tapped into. "Anyways." He turned his head to divert the conversation to something less sinister. "I hate to agree with Snivelus but I think Draco's talents are wasted as an academic."

"And I think-" Harry said for maybe the xth time since Neville had approached him about Draco's secret activities ,"that none of this is wasted. I think he's going to help a lot of people like this. And I think that if he were involved with the preparations, he'd loose his mind. He already did! He cast an Avada on Dumbledore's brother, Sirius! Draco is not playing around! He's -" Worry crept into his voice. "He needs to stay distracted. My Horkrux is dead, I don't have to be the one to kill Voldemort anymore. And I'm not giving up on Draco. If he's involved, he's going to do something stupid and get himself killed. Besides, he's right. About all of this! We're putting children to war, Sirius! That's going to mess a lot of people up. Someone needs to be there to pick them back up." Sighing, Harry shook his head. "And I think - that has got to be him."

Sirius nodded thoughfully. "You might be right. And I do love to disagree with Snivelus." He sniffed. When he turned his head, he looked at Madame Pomfrey, who stood in one corner of the room, apparently thinking hard about Draco's presentation. "Poppy is not taking it too well, is she?"

Harry followed his gaze. "She was just accused of not taking students' problems seriously. I don't even want to know what's going on inside her head." His glance turned back to Draco. "I have my hands full with that one."

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Draco was one of the last people to leave and naturally, Harry waited for him. Almost anxiously, as he always felt when approaching his boyfriend, Harry skipped to his side. Draco looked up once, seemingly startled and overwhelmed by Harry's presence alone. The look was nothing unusual but it still stung, knowing that Harry himself was part of the reason why Draco remained alert all the time. Harry followed him down to dinner, sat down next to him so he wouldn't be separated from him by the long Hufflepuff table and thought of what to say.

Before he could, Draco spoke up. "Have you seen Neville? He wasn't there at the presentation."

Harry's heart sank slightly. Draco had been looking for Neville during the presentation too. It was unnerving to know that Draco sought comfort from someone other than Harry. Although Harry knew, of course he knew, that Draco liked him, that he was trying so hard to get better so they wouldn't have to walk on eggshells around each other, it still hurt. "He was helping Professor Sprout." That was the lie they had come up with anyway.

"Hmm." Draco made and looked around. "Even over dinner? I haven't seen him all day. The mandrakes don't need that much attention, do they?" Draco muttered to himself. "Do you think he's alright?"

Harry forced a smile. He hated lying to Draco. But he was much more convincing than Draco was and he couldn't exactly tell Draco what Neville was really up to. "I'm sure he brought a meal from the kitchens and stop worrying about Neville eating. YOU have barely touched your own food, mister."

"And you're treating me like a patient again!" Draco complained but sighed and kept playing with his food.

Harry sighed. Of course he was. He came on too strong, he was too protective and too worried but he couldn't help it. He loved Draco. And he wanted to help. "Then maybe you should leave it," he suggested softly. Reaching out his hand, Harry covered Draco's and squeezed it. "You told me you wanted to cook. Would you like to do it today?"

Draco's eyes travelled from his hand to Harry. "Yeah." He said, not sounding sure at all. "Yeah, I think that would be good."

"But!" Harry said as he got up. "I've got to go and get some ingredients from the kitchens first! Let's meet there in an hour, alright?"

Watching him, Draco twitched a smile. "Okay." He seemed glad, if anything. As if he needed to prepare himself for this step before he was ready to follow. Or perhaps he was just glad to have a couple moments for himself.

Harry gave him a thumbs up and cheerfully walked out of the Great Hall into the crowding hallway. He walked past the colorful students who were muttering and chattering about the new defensive spell they'd just learned. "Did you see Longbottom's Confringo? I could have sworn he wasn't that good last year!" Harry bit back the desire to shut them up and sped up the stairs towards the very place the students had come from. With now more than just the fifth and sixth years in training, they'd had to split the DA classes in thirds. That way, Harry would teach one group which he'd then lead to Draco's presentation, while another was lead by Nevill and a third by Sirius. Sometimes they would have to take lunchtime for these lessons just to manage the cheer size of attendees, McGonagall had added a longer curfew for those who would have to stay up longer for the preparations of the war. And they had to switch it up well enough for Draco not to notice. It was strange how far they went to keep Draco out of it. Especially when Draco began to notice certain people's disappearances. Even mixing up the houses on all the tables did not seem to help all that much.

Harry skidded around the corner where a few students were standing around the open door of the room of requirements. "Hey!" Harry nearly yelled. "Get out, now, come on!"

One of the girls standing around the open door was Pavarti Patil and she turned to Harry in pleasant surprise. "Have you seen him? Neville is getting so good!"

"Draco is coming in under an hour. I need you to leave!"

"Awww." Vocally disappointed, Pavarti grabbed her things and her friend by the shoulder and lead her down to dinner.

Harry took a moment to gather himself, then he entered the room of requirements, or more specifically, the DA room. Then, Harry Potter froze for a moment as a giant Basilisk launched at Neville.

It took Harry a second to realize that the creature in front of him was made of pure stone and that it was being controlled by Minerva McGonagall. McGonagall was marching down the wall, several feet away, shouting drills at a sweating Neville. "Ellbows higher, Mr. Longbottom! Lower your stance!"

Neville did as asked as best as he could. In a swift motion, he swung the sword of Gryffindor at the threat in front of him, the sword clanking violently against the giant fangs. At the sight, Harry had to gather himself. He took note of the small cracks and broken teeth and the blindness in the thing's eyes. McGonagall had enchanted a snake statue for Neville to practise on.

Neville's entire arm vibrated from the weight of the snake's tail against the sword as he was attacked once more but he seemed used to the attacks by now and didn't hesitate to swing his sword repeatedly at the enchanted stone. Pavarti had not been lying, Neville's daily extra lessons were paying off. And it had also been a brilliant idea to train with a stone snake, Harry thought. Last time, Neville had been lucky. No one had considered that Neville would be able to pull the sword from the hat, nor that he would attack the snake with it. This time, they would be prepared but that took away the element of surprise.
Neville dodged another attack, his uniform basically a mess right now but he hadn't taken it off. Naturally, it was a physical impossiblity that Neville would be able to take a direct hit from a massive stone statue like that, which was why they were also practicing enhancement spells. Strength, protection, they could need all of that and more and Neville had to do a lot of extra training to be able to cast them on himself.

"Minerva, could you two finish up?" Harry asked, ignoring the risen pulse in his veins, and had to evade the giant snake tail himself as it was flipped angrily in his direction. "Draco will be here soon."

"Of course, Mr. Potter." Minerva huffed out, sounding exhausted and displeased. "However, I must ask you for ten more minutes. We just started." She raised her chin a little. "Couldn't you have had a little more foresight? We can't do everything in this room. You want to put the transfiguration lessons here next?"

Neville growled, too distracted to focus on their conversation. Then, a moment of exhaustion, Neville slipped on the chess colored tiles on the ground, and the snake's tail knocked the sword right out of his hand. "DAMN it!" Neville cursed and heaved heavily before he went up to pick up the sword. "Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to swear."

Professor McGonagall shook her head and sighed. "It's fine. It's been a long day. Why don't you go and take a bath, Mr. Longbottom. Dinner will be over by 9 today. Off you go." Neville seemed both frustrated and relieved when he was told to leave. He had barely gotten a break since the war preparations had started. The stone basilisk hardened when the enchantment wore off. Neville took the sword and let it disappear in his uniform. He, or someone, must have put the same enchantment on his robes as the one Hermione had used on her tiny bag, back when they were hunting for the Horkruxes in their seventh year. Harry was growing nostalgic at the sight. A moment later, Neville had followed the other DA members out of the door.

"I do not like this." Minerva announced as soon as they were gone. "Children! They are children, Mr. Potter! Even in your time - You told us that only the adults were fighting in that war! And now we're training fifteen and sixteen year olds! This is madness! You're sending Mr. Longbottom out there to fight a snake with a SWORD."

Of course, this wasn't the first time she had uttered her concerns either. "I know, Minerva. But I was fifteen when I started training the DA members to prepare them for this war and some of them were younger than me. They are the same people. Ginny Weasley was 16 when she joined the fight because she was a DA member. Neville trained them during their seventh year when we were gone but we don't have that time anymore. And we will need every single person if we want to win this war by the end of the year! We NEED to get the snake killed. And Neville has to be the one to do it!"

"Why him?" Minerva asked distraught. "Could it not be someone else? An adult, maybe? You, for example!"

Harry shook his head. "It has to be someone Voldemort does not expect. And I doubt that he will expect Neville to be the one. Last time, Voldmort kept Nagini close after he realized that we knew about the Horkruxes. So, we have to get close to both of them at once." Harry paused. "I trust in this plan. Neville came up with it and I'm sure that he knows better what to do than you think. He did fantastic last time."

Minerva let out a deep breath. "Mr. Potter, you will bring me into my early grave, won't you?"

"I hope not." Harry smiled. "Now, if you please -"

She nodded and sighed and then began to mutter something about priorities as she spelled the snake to wiggle its way back into the nook it had come from. Perhaps it had been a special design by the room. Harry took a deep breath and left as well to ask for a kitchen. A private kitchen that he and Draco could experiment in.

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As the sole heir of the entire Malfoy bloodline, Harry would have expected Draco to be bad at cooking. Then again, Harry should have known that someone with Draco's talents with potions would be able to read a recipe book. Draco had come into the room of requirements with a haunted look and hesitation. He barely looked at Harry, as if he wasn't sure they were fighting or something. Harry didn't know where that came from but Draco seemed to have been avoiding him for some reason and Harry had no idea how to bring that up when Draco remained so incredibly quiet. Draco's eyes were trained on the ingredients that Harry had asked Dobby to bring, of course not without the occasional praise that Harry was helping Master Draco. Draco's hands seemed hesitant to grab the ingedients, no matter whether they were plants or meat and his breathing had increased the way it always did when he bordered on a panic.

Harry took his seat on the counter top of the small rustical looking kitchen and decided to just lay back and watch until Draco would have a question.

Draco was so sensitive lately. It was slowly driving Harry insane just how few things Draco was capable of doing, while he excelled in so many others. It drove Harry nuts, knowing there was so little he could do to help.

The sight of Draco's hesitance with the kitchen utensils reminded Harry of his marriage with Ginny. Ginny hadn't inherited her mother's love for cooking, never having wanted to be a housewife in the first place, and Harry hadn't blamed her for it. They had shared their housework and so Harry had quietly taken over the kitchen. He had never complained but he wouldn't say he had loved it. Growing up with the Dursleys, forced to cook and bake for people who didn't appreciate him, people he'd used to try so hard to appeal for, had left him detesting the art. He'd never been good enough in their opinion because of course a nine year old should be a five star cook for his cousin's birthday. But Harry Potter did not complain because Harry Potter simply did not complain. Harry Potter had faced Voldemort as a baby and again as an eleven year old. He'd killed a Basilisk at the age of twelve, went after a known serial killer at 13, faced Voldemort again at 14, lead an army at 15 and then started searching for Horkruxes at 16 so he could kill the biggest threat of the magical community at 17. Harry Potter always bounced back because he was Harry Potter. What else was he supposed to do?

Harry watched Draco move about, slowly growing more comfortable with the stove, measuring the ingredients carefully even if it wasn't technically necessary for cooking to be so precise, and Harry didn't say anything because he had to wonder about Draco's speech from that morning instead. He had to wonder why it was, that none of the teachers had taken him seriously when he was younger. How it was possible that an eleven year old could go and get through all these puzzles when in his fourth year, they used a spell to keep minors out of the tournament. Surely that could have been done with the door that had protected Fluffy?
McGonagall had told him back then that the teachers had everything handled but she'd phrased it in such a way that Harry had not managed to believe her. He'd never felt like people were listening to him, so he'd taken it in his own hand. If, by chance, she had said something like 'thank you for addressing the issue, I will take this up to Dumbledore so we can do something,' then perhaps Harry wouldn't have jumped right into danger as a child. Maybe if he'd been taken seriously just once at that point in time, he would have asked a teacher for help in his second year once they had figured out where the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets lay... And that was the point where his 'what if scenario' broke off because if Harry had wasted time to ask adults for help in his second year, then Ginny would likely be dead by now.

His mind drifted off quickly. In the end, it always had to be him. How strange was it that at this, Harry was reminded of Snape's memories that the man had shared with him at the moment of his death? A memory of Snape shouting at Dumbledore completely distraught: 'You've raised him up for slaughter!' Harry doubted that Snape felt more strongly for him than he did for Draco. His earlier statements of Draco's talents being wasted, Harry didn't buy. In truth, Professor Snape was probably distraught by the idea that Draco had been feeling like this all this time and that no amount of potions that Snape gave him would end his problems. Snape had secretly protected the both of them for their entire school career, Harry in memory of Lily Potter, Draco as a favor for Narzissa Malfoy. Snape must be frustrated, knowing what his efforts lead to. Both of them reliving their worst nightmares instead of living a peaceful life.

But he was was Harry Potter and Harry Potter didn't have the luxury to complain, to be afraid or be nauseous about his own decisions. Harry feared nothing more than be afraid because if he did, if he faltered, who would save the world? And so, like always, Harry kept quiet and watched his boyfriend struggle with his problems. For once in his life, Harry was powerless to help and because of that he was afraid in a time where he could not afford to be afraid. If it wasn't for Draco, then Harry would be fighting the snake. And Harry would be fighting Voldemort. And to make matters worse, Harry knew exactly that Draco would hate him for this. For not telling him, for keeping him out, and worse, for not being the hero Draco thought him to be. But in the end, Harry Potter was selfish. For once in his life, he wanted to work for the future that he'd dreamed of. He wanted a life with Draco. In the end, the great Harry Potter was only human, and he'd already lost too much.

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Severus Snape PoV:

Betrayal.

If there was one thing Severus knew everything about, it was betrayal. With every step his anger grew as marched a lonely road down to his office. Students stormed out of the way upon seeing him and he couldn't keep the growl out of his voice when he barked at them to get out of his sight. Once he's slammed the door to his office shut, he instantly wiped off everything that stood on his desk in an wave of anger.

Draco Malfoy had gone mad. Draco Malfoy had gone and done what Snape couldn't and it tore the potions Professor apart.

Draco had confessed to the man he loved and he'd betrayed Voldemort and he'd brought them so close to the end of this war - but he'd betrayed him. Severus Snape had been fooled as a child by the Dark Lord, by his friends, even by Lily. He'd done everything in her honor, had tried to redeem himself when his one wish, his wish to keep her save, had not been fulfilled. He'd taken over as guardian for her only son, who was also the son of the man Severus had most hated, had betrayed all his friends and yet -. Severus had tied his life, his promise to Dumbledore who had done not nearly enough to protect her, he had dedicated his whole life to destroy the man who had destroyed her, and it was all over just because Draco could not keep his mouth shut.

Snape gritted his teeth trying to reel in his anger. Snape knew betrayal like the back of his hand, he'd practically invented the art. Snape had betrayed everyone he'd ever cared for for the woman he'd loved, except for Narzissa Malfoy. She'd been the one sane voice in a crowd of insanity. And it was her son, a child whom Severus had sworn to protect, that would be his downfall.

And Dumbledore? Dumbledore had said nothing except that Snape stay at this godforsaken school, that he should do anything Potter would ask to end this war. But Potter had never come to him. It was Longbottom who did. It was Longbottom who requested the polyjuice potion and told him to protect Theo. Snape should give this child the information he would need to irritate Voldemort, to push him towards the edge and send Death Eaters to Hogwarts. At this point, he might as well.

But today - today, Snape really wondered why he'd decided to help in the first place. Severus Snape had, by no means, a lack of self awareness. Keeping students scared was both fun and a means to his cover. And he'd done it out of spite as well. He'd loved his house, that's why he'd enjoyed the position as head of Slytherin. This was the closest to his self he could be while keeping everything else hidden. Why did it matter if students were afraid of him? The Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, so let them be brave in front of him! Ravenclaws were smart, they would excell without problems and Hufflepuffs would never ask him to change, would they? So why was it so bad that he preferred his own house? Why was it so bad that while every other house was allowed to hate his house, he wasn't allowed to push back? Draco Malfoy had told him why today.

And it matched up so well to Draco's behavior last year. Ever since Snape knew that this Draco was from the future, he'd had to wonder where he went wrong. He'd been supposed to protect him! He'd been supposed to help him, not to pressure him more. Snape hadn't listened when Draco had requested help after he'd poisoned himself, Snape hadn't paid attention when Draco had spiralled in his self starvation and only given him potions to mask his problems. Not only had Draco betrayed him, he'd made it very clear that Snape's help was no longer wanted. Draco thought him incapable. Snape had lost another person he'd cared for to a Potter.

And that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? Snape hissed in a breath through his teeth and tried to compose himself. Even after death, James bloody Potter haunted him because he was better, more popular, because he was the hero Severus Snape would never be. And what had the man done to deserve his fame? He'd died. Sometimes, like right now, Snape wasn't sure which he felt more, his hatred for Potter? Or his love for Lily. His own patronus was a mockery because it didn't represent her at all. Potter had been a stag and how was Severus supposed to know that Lily had been a doe before she married him? Snape's patronus represented another man's wife. It should be more than that and usually it was - but sometimes, like right now, Snape felt crushed under the knowledge that he couldn't be sure.

Severus closed his eyes for a moment before he regained his mask. He twirled around to take a look at the polyjuice potion that he was brewing in here. It would depend entirely on the amount of Death Eaters the Dark Lord would be sending to determine how many students would drink it. And only the ones who showed the most progress in self defense and apparating would be chosen to do so. Snape had been told to keep the students save inside the castle while Black, the bloody bastard, would lead students out into the war. Like Snape didn't know the Death Eaters better. Perhaps, Snape curled his mouth into an amused smile at the thought, Black was incapable of defense spells, or he simply couldn't be trusted to sit still.

Snape squinted at the polyjuice potion and added a little more fluxweed. The only thing that kept Snape from cursing Black was probably that even Severus could not ignore his own feelings when it came to the new revelations about Regulus final mission. Not even Severus had known. Sure, he'd never been tight with Regulus and his friends but Snape had respected him very much. If only they'd talked at least once, perhaps this war would have long been evaded. Perhaps, if Regulus has felt he could trust him, Lily never would have died and the Horkruxes would have been found way sooner. And then Severus would not be here, not belonging to either side, having betrayed his old friends and been betrayed by the children he'd sworn to protect.

--------------------------

Sirius PoV.:

"This was a weird fucking day." Sirius was sitting in his classroom. He had meant to clean up a little, maybe work a bit more on the motorcycle or prepare the next lessons he was meant to hold, be it the regular classes or the extra ones. "I suppose so was yours." Instead of on his table, Sirius had made it comfortable for himself on the windowsill that he'd promptly summoned a couple cushions for and looked out of the window into the starry night sky. Talking to himself was a habit he'd picked up in Azkaban and it had never fully left him. Twelve years were a long time to be wrongly imprisoned and isolated, and it hadn't been much more than three years since he'd escaped. It was especially bad on full moons when the sky was clear and his heart burning like it was today.

Hogwarts was no longer the school he remembered. In parts that was a good thing, in others, it frightened him to be back and not recognize the place he'd once called his home.

But the full moon also had it's positives. He felt closer to his friends during the full moon, be it the dead or Remus. It reminded him of long nights in the howling hut, hunched up together, the four of them, trying to keep Remus in check. "I hope you took your potions, old friend." Perhaps, Sirius had to admit, he wasn't talking entirely to himself. Hopefully, Sirius thought, Remus was taking a long nap as a little wolfhound in his rooms where no one would bother his sleep. Hopefully, he was save and wouldn't wake up with another scar to his face or his heart.

Three years wasn't a long time to have escaped. A couple months barely enough to feel free again, let alone to rekindle an old friendship, but it was a long time for a friend to be ignored or abandoned. And here he was, preparing a bunch of children for the upcoming war. "They are far too young. But so was James." He bit his lip. "And Harry too. This is his second go at this war and nothing is certain. And the poor Malfoy boy. I'm sure Narzissa is besides herself, what do you think, Moony?" The moon did not answer but neither had Remus back when they were in school. They'd been a pack, the four of them. Remus' pack. None of them were with him now. They should be, all of them, Pettigrew's betrayal be damned but this was not possible. Not anymore. Never again.

For so many years, his rage and hatred had kept Sirius going, his mind occupied only by one thought, the thought of murdering that fucking rat! And now? Now he was free again, his records a clean slate and he was back in school and nothing had changed, except that everything had. And he was tired. "I can finally be me." Sirius told himself, remembering all the years when he'd thought he couldn't be. All the years he hadn't understood his own feelings, when he'd confused his obsession with boys for admiration. "That should be enough, shouldn't it?" He paused, and then almost yelled at the silence. "So, why isn't it, huh, Moony? It's easy, it's too easy! It's so easy to be yourself when no one is left who's opinion matters!" Sirius had never gotten to learn what Prongs would have thought of him had he known. He'd never told him, never asked, thinking that it was too soon, thinking he ought to be absolutely sure first. And wasn't that selfish? Sirius best friend was dead and the only thing Sirius could think of was his stupid secret. It wasn't even a secret anymore. "Do you see me, James?" He wondered and tried not to feel it too.

"Moony-" Sirius said weakly, hating how his voice cracked in the empty room. "Don't you dare die in this war, do you hear me? I can't lose you too."

It was then, finally, that Sirius was reminded of his brother. He had the book with him, right here, right now, his hands wrapped tightly around it, but he barely dared looking at it again. Barely dared to read it when there was no one there that he had to be strong for. He couldn't read it while he was vulnerable like this and not putting up pretenses. Sirius had grown up with howlers that blew up on the breakfast table with everyone to hear. He was good at making fun of his own pain, just not when he was alone. And he'd been alone in Azkaban for so long. Sirius Black was not the type to cry and he'd promised himself not to do it over Regulus' memory but it was so much harder now. Now that he had proof of his brother's true beliefs, his attempts to make things right. "You don't think Reg did this for me, do you, Moony?"

The moon remained bright and foreboding and full. It was nearly midnight. Sirius threw his head back against the wall. Sirius hated the night. Hated how the darkness unraveled his true feelings and allowed him to reminiscent, allowed him to lay out all of his emotions in plain sight. Ironically, the moon was soothing, because he knew when the moon was out, he was not fully alone. It was a strange kind of consolation but he craved it none the less. "I should tell you how I feel." Sirius muttered at the moon. "I couldn't tell Prongs but I will tell you! You deserve to know, you're my friend and I-" Sirius stopped, unable to say it even to himself. "I will tell you, soon enough. Before this war starts, I'll tell you and I won't have to regret anything if you - If I -" Sirius covered his face. "I was supposed to be dead." He reminded himself. "I died at the ministry, Moony. I died there. And you died in that war, Harry told me. We can't die again, we can't leave him all by himself, we have to live, Moony." Finally, tears gathered in his eyes. "Who will be left if we die? Little ol' Peter? You know he can't handle it! You know Harry can't handle it, not on his own. We gotta be there. You and I."

Then Sirius looked down and closed his eyes before he barked out a laugh and hugged his knees tighter. "I can't believe you bastard went and married by cousin! What the actual hell, Moony?! And you had a child! And you didn't even name your child after me, I am so disappointed in you!" He laughed further but the laugh didn't reach his eyes, his heart burning in ways that it shouldn't. "I won't die again without you, Remus. Not this time." This finally, broke him. "Please, don't die, Remus."

Sirius had never thought he was killable and perhaps that was his own fault for being so arrogant. He knew better now and he was terrified but not to lose his life, he was far more scared to lose Remus because he'd already lost everyone else.

-------------------------

Theo's PoV:

Theo did not like this plan. But it was, at least, a plan that did not leave him completely out of the loop like Draco's had.

Still... When Blaise had brought him to the room of requirements at 11 pm, Theo was terrified. The room requirements looked cold and uninviting when no one was there. And a part of him wished Draco was here to help him, to shield him from everything this job required. But this was his job and his responsibility, he could not run away from it.

"You've got this," said Blaise. "You just have to explain to them about the tunnel and show them if needed. It'll be fine."

Theo nodded hopelessly, clinging desperately to Blaise fake determination. "What if it doesn't?! You know the rest of this plan depends on me! On this conversation!"

"Hey!" Blaise grabbed him by the shoulders but even he didn't look too assured. "You're not alone in there. Aberforth will be there and he will be hiding, you read Professor Snape's instructions! Aberforth will step in when something goes wrong, okay?"

"What if there is too many Death Eaters? What if it's too many for him?"

Blaise shook his head, his hands were shaking as he kept the portrait open for Theo to climb in. "It won't be! I'm sure that You Know Who only sent a few of them to remain inconspicuous and Aberforth is Dumbledore's brother! It will be fine! Dumbledore wouldn't allow this if he wasn't sure you would survive!"

Helplessly, Theo nodded, though his fear was still growing by the second. It didn't help that the tunnel was so dark and foreboding. "If I don't make it-"

"You will!" Blaise said and squeezed his wrist one last time. "Don't even think that you won't."

Theo sniffed once and nodded helplessly. "Okay." He whispered and quickly wiped off the tears with the hem of his sleeves. "I can do this. I've got this." Then he began to climb through the tunnel, leaving Blaise behind, arms crossed tightly and with a mirrored expression of fear in his eyes. Before Theo would reach the end of the tunnel, Blaise would hurry towards the entrance to the room of requirements and wait in a classroom close by where Professor Snape and Dumbledore would be waiting. The room of requirements had to remain empty, just in case the Death Eaters wanted to make sure that it truly led where Theo had claimed it would. And Theo had been advised to go these final steps by himself to gather enough courage to do this at all.

"It will be fine!," he told himself again as he climbed into the small living room of Aberforth Dumbledore. He looked around but Aberforth was nowhere to be seen. Theo's heart thudded in his chest and he raised his wand. "Mr. Dumbledore? Sir?"

"Pssht!" Theo nearly jumped when the voice reached his ears. It seemed to come from the shelf in the room. "I'm here." said Aberforth. "Pretend I'm not."

Theo took a deep breath. "I can do this." He felt a lot calmer now, knowing he really wasn't alone in this. Not by far.

What's more, the whole school was in on it. In the past weeks, in every room and every corner, Theo had seen people hunching their heads together to discuss the latest curses they'd mastered. Some people were talking about Draco's class, others about the queer club and again others about the Christmas ball that kept Pansy in her grasp and far away from Theo and Blaise. She'd said that she did it to exchange information between Theo and members of the DA and if You Know Who asked, he could say she were his spy or something, but she seemed so happy whenever she hung out with Potter's friends. He couldn't help but feel a little envious. The point was that Theo was not alone in this but his involvement was still vital to the entire plan of this war.

Convince Voldemort that there was an entrance they could use to get into Hogwarts, ambush them there, assume their identities if possible, apparate to the manor and start the war. Theo's role in this was just to show the Death Eaters the tunnel, the way in and convince them that no one else knew about it. Convince them that he, Theo, was on their side. This was his only way of hoping to save his mother from Voldemort's grasp. Although, Theo had his doubts, a lot of doubts, really. He wasn't as cunning as Draco, or nearly as convincing and he certainly wasn't as lucky. If what had happened to Draco could be considered luck. Theo would never forget how Draco had cried when they'd found him, how he'd barely known where he was, his paranoia so bad that he barely recognized them in his old dorm room. Theo begged and prayed that this would not be his fate.

Yet, Theo was stuck between You Know Who's plans and Neville's demands to keep him informed. Theo was an important puzzle piece in this plan and he was not sure he was strong enough to bare it. He had an important job and if he cared for his mother and his friends, he could not allow himself to fail. He was supposed to keep up the pretense, exchange letters with Death Eaters and convince them that he'd come up with this plan himself. After Draco's stunt last summer, however, his job had become increasingly more difficult.

Now, Theo would be hiding in the closed Hogshead, waiting for his guests to arrive and hoping they were just a little more naive than Theo feared they weren't. And he was a little intimidated by Aberforth as well. Aberforth was scary. Aberforth also hated that Dumbledore was forcing him to help out and Theo had to listen to the man rant about 'attempted murder' and 'ruined businesses' the last time he'd been here. It was soothing to know that he cared but it didn't help his nerves prepare about what was to come.

So, Theo sat down on the leathered old couch and tried to calm himself while he told himself that everything would be fine.

This whole plan, he knew, was originally Draco's plan. Neville had followed him one night and found this tunnel in the room of requirements that lead to this bar. Draco had mentioned this during his breakdown as well and told Theo that he would have to assume Aberforth's identity. They did not do this this time and Theo wondered if that was smart. Not only that, at the mention of 'attempted murder', Theo had no choice but connect the dots. Draco had attempted to murder this man and he'd done it for Theo and that might even have been the smart thing to do. What was more convincing to the Death Eaters than a corpse? Then again, You Know Who would certainly realize that Theo was incabaple of murder and they would have known that something was off. It was better this way, wasn't it? It would work! It had to work!

Not wanting to think of it further, Theo waited and waited until finally, it knocked.

Theo jumped to his feet and paled as he made out the figure behind the window. They had send the Carrows! Theo's back went rigid and he swallowed hard as he walked up towards the entrance and opened the door. The Carrow siblings were one of the most terrifying Death Eaters Theo knew apart from, of course, Bellatrix Lestrange. Alecto and Amycus were not alone, two Dementors had followed them right into town. They hovered at the door to the Hogshead to guard it but that was close enough for the cold to creep into Theo's bones. Every hope that they could win this war escaped the boy, made him shiver and he simply let the two Death Eaters inside.

Alecto Carrow had the face of a parrot, although her voice was soothingly irritating. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Asked Theo as the door was shut behind him, just glad that the Dementors did not follow.

"The owner of this shop." Her brother snarled and picked up a rather rotten looking pillow from Aberforth's couch.

"I- I don't know." Theo said, chest heaving. No one had told him what to say. Where was he supposed to tell them Aberforth was? It was like Draco had said, they'd thrown him right at the Death Eaters, expecting him to somehow get it right!

Amycus seemed to sense his fear because he was before him in less than a second. He grabbed Theo by the collar and pushed his wand in Theo's face. "If you lured us in a trap-"

"Please, no!" Theo said quickly, hands raised to block him and eyes wide in fear. "You know I wouldn't! He was just - gone. And no one would expect you to come to Hogsmead, so I thought -"

Alecto shut him up. "Do you think we care what you think?" He nearly spat at him, instantly killing any hope Theo might have had left. "The Dark Lord ordered us to take you back to the manor! He no longer wishes to risk his plans being discovered because of some child!"

"But!" Theo shouted, quick to assess himself. "He's not coming back! I told you there is a tunnel leading from here to Hogwarts-"

"And you think our Lord still trusts you after your little friend survived him?" Alecto spat once more and opened the door. "You're small fry, child. And The Dark Lord won't be fooled twice!" Theo was kicked towards the door to follow them into hell. "We can do with you as we see fit. He doesn't care what happens to you!"

Amycus now grabbed him by the hair and laughed loudly as tears gathered in Theo's eyes from the pain. They threw him forward once more until his face hit the nearst wall. This had escalated too quickly. The plan was a fraud! It was doomed to fail! He should have known! Heck, he had known!

Then, everything happened very quickly. Suddenly, a light flashed and Alecto stopped right in her tracks. Amycus noticed and twirled around, his wand raised and his eyes wide. "Who is there?" Angrily, he grabbed Theo by the shoulder again and put him before him. Then he pressed his wand at his neck. "I knew it! I knew you were a traitor!" He laughed. "Foolish child, thought you could trick us!" But then there was another flash that hit Amycus right in the chest and Amycus as well looked as if the world had stopped turning. They had stopped moving as if time had stopped for them at once.

Theo's heart was racing. He had no idea what just happened. "I- Huh?" He tried.

Both Carrows stood still, eyes blank and unseeing, as if they weren't even present.

Before Theo could catch himself, the shelf dismantled and turned back to Aberforth. The room was a lot emptier after that. The old man caughed at the dust in his own home and quickly cast a patronus. Theo stepped backwards as the goat started trotting around him but ultimately found himself relieved that the cold had dissipated. It was still stuck in his bones but it was no longer gnawing on him. "Now, we have quite the problem." Aberforth brushed through his long beard and scrunched his nose. "But that was to be expected, wasn't it?"

Theo needed a moment to process. He wasn't dead. They hadn't taken him. Aberforth had protected him, just as Blaise had promised.

Aberforth seemed to try to hold something back but then he suddenly burst. "I KNEW it!" He turned on his heels, the two Death Eaters standing still and not at all disturbed by their current situation. "My brother is a fool. As if a bunch of children could actually do this!" He covered his face in anger. "I told him that I wanted to have nothing to do with this. But no, apparently he has a plan! No wonder that Malfoy boy wanted me dead, my corpse would have made this whole charade at least credible!"

It dawned on Theo then that he'd failed. It was worse than that, he had put the entire mission, the entire war that the whole school was preparing for in jeopardy! "What-" He asked, panicking in his boots. "What do we do?" Helplessly, he searched for Aberforth expression, only to find the man sending him nothing but pity.

"Voldemort-" Theo flinched at the use of the name, "-was smart to send them to collect you. He clearly knows that you can't be trusted."

"I never said anything, I swear!" Theo felt like he was about to cry. He really had done everything he'd been told! He'd sent the letters as Dumbledore requested with help from Professor Snape and given Neville as clear information about the manor as he could remember. What else was he supposed to have done?

"It's not your fault," said Aberforth and let himself fall on his couch. "This was a test. The problem is that that Malfoy child and Potter are alive. I'm sure that Voldemort knows and doesn't want to risk anything, so he sent two Death Eaters to grab you. You were meant to be a hostage. Whether or not he believed in the tunnel is of no matter. This plan is doomed to fail. We might as well call off the war."

"Then-" Theo said, heart sinking. "What do we do instead?"

Aberforth shook his head. "There is nothing we can do, child. Merlin's beard, do none of you know the concept of running away?!" He gestured at the Death Eaters next. "I shut off their minds, they don't know what's going on right now. I could change their mind to show them the tunnel is real but I'm sure that Voldemort would know something is off, if they start praising you or something. I doubt that he would risk trusting you under these circumstances." The man rubbed his head. "I thought my brother was smarter than to leave this war in the hands of children!"

Theo looked down, ears burning in shame. "But we have to do something. We could - I dunno, now we have two hostages, right?" Theo asked hopefully. "Wasn't that part of this whole plan? To get hair from Death Eaters to pose as them?"

Aberforth sent him an even more pitying glance, his patronus shining in silver reflections from his beard. "Child, the potion won't be done until Christmas. Sure, we could infiltrate the manor now if we had any, but Voldemort is going to test whoever comes back, that's for certain. Infiltrating is not an option! We're at a dead end, boy. This plan was for naught. You should go back into the castle and those two go to Azkaban and no one goes back to the manor."

Theo stared at him and he wanted, so desperately, to agree. "No."

"Boy - this war -"

"He has my mother!" Theo said and stepped closer. That was the whole reason why he was in this mess in the first place. "I can't stay here, knowing she will be killed! This can't be the end, the whole school is preparing for this war! Draco did it! He went to the manor and infiltrated it -"

"You are not Mr Malfoy, Nott! And Voldemort sure as hell isn't stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice, especially not for someone who cannot even close his mind! He can read you like a book and if he has you, then he has the whole plan!"

"Then you need to change the bloody plan!" Theo yelled at him, finally reaching his limit. His panic grew stronger. His mother was sure to die now! There was no way - "I'm so done and tired hoping for a miracle! If Draco can't help me and if Dumbledore can't help me and if you can't, then no one can!" He was panting, fear in his voice and tears in his eyes as he slowly began to puzzle the pieces together that were laid out for him. "This can't be the end! I can't let her die!" Suddenly, he realized with an intensity he'd never imagined he would feel, how helpless he was. If he didn't go, his mother would die, if he went, they might both die still. At that moment he felt foolish for firing Draco. Draco had had the right idea. This war wouldn't end without deaths. He'd just been the one in the position to decide who would die and who wouldn't.

"The point of the polyjuice potion was never to fool Voldemort, it was to make it impossible for the Death Eaters to tell each other apart! Even if we had any polyjuice potion right now-"

"I don't care." Theo said and swallowed dryly, his voice breaking. "I have to go!"

Aberforth slowly stood up. "You can't go! What are you thinking? He's called you back with no regards for your safety or interest in your well being. You go there, you die."

Theo shook his head violently. There was one thing he had not tried. Helplessly, begging Aberforth with his eyes to show him another way, he turned to the old man. "He wants the plan! He wants to be sure I'm not in liege with you, so what if I'm not? What if I change sides?" It was desperate, of course it was. What You Know Who truly wanted was not loyalty, what he wanted was obedient pets. It didn't matter why someone bowed to him, if it was out of fear or to protect someone. Maybe, if he was desperate enough, if he groveled low enough, maybe the Dark Lord would spare his mother. Maybe if he honestly changed sides-. They'd said they would bring him to the manor, maybe Voldemort wanted the information he had about this plan. Maybe this would be enough to save his mother.

Incredulousy, Aberforth stepped forward. "You can't mean that. You heard them, Voldemort does not care what they do to you!"

"Then enchant them so they bring me to him safely." Theo said, voice breaking further. His lips were quivering and finally a tear escaped his eyes. "What else am I supposed to do?!" He asked, barely able to get in any oxygen. "She's going to die!" Desperately, Theo went to Amycus side. "And here-" He ripped out his hair and then did the same to his sister. "Hair! What you needed!" He knew it was pointless and his hands were shaking but Theo needed a way out of this. His mom was all he had left!

"I will not-"

"GIVE ME A CHANCE TO SAVE HER!" Theo nearly screamed at him and then he did the one thing he had not expected himself to do. He raised his wand. "Please!"

Aberforth shook his head. "You're not like Malfoy. You would not dare." But he seemed uncertain as his eyes lowered to Theo's wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Aberforth quickly averted the spell. "Boy, I am not doing this again-"

"Finite!" Theo yelled but not at Aberforth this time but at the stock still standing Alecto.

Almost irritated, she seemed to regain her posture. "What?"

"No, you did NOT!" Aberforth yelled and directed his wand at her.

Before he could mutter a single spell, however, Theo used the distraction for what it was. "Petricficus Totalus!" In an instant, Aberforth became rigid, frozen almost like a corpse, his eyes wide and full of confusion. Theo's hand was shaking while Alecto laughed.

She laughed loud and dirty. "Oh, this is certainly a surprise."

She raised her wand at her brother with the counter spell. He quickly regained his composure as well. "Just promise me he won't hurt my mother." Theo pleaded, eyes directed at her.

"Well well well." Amycus smirked. "You have a traitor in your midst." He said amusedly and stepped closer to Aberforth frozen statue. Theo wanted nothing more than to cry and ask for help but he felt so, so helpless. He had known that no one would come. "Who would have thought." The man tapped Aberforth nose in a mocking gesture and then turned to Theo. "Well done, boy."

Theo didn't know who was more humiliated, him or Aberforth. "Promise me!"

"Pff." Alecto laughed. "And why would we do that? Avada Kedavra."

Green light split from her wand towards the motionless wizard. At once, Aberforth's eyes emptied and he fell over. Whatever life had been left in his eyes was now gone, Theo's spell as broken as Aberforth life. And with him, the patronus died a quick glimmering death. Theo's eyes widened as Aberforth's body thudded against the dusty floor. "No." He whispered. "No no no!" No turning back, no take backs.

"Come on, you fool." Alector said and finally kicked him out of the door.

"No! NO!" Theo screamed, panic flooding his veins as he tried to reach out for Aberforth. Alecto silenced him with a simple wave of her hand, making it impossible for him to open his mouth. Sewed shut like that and exposed to the full power of the dementors, Theo was dragged out of the Hogshead into the suspiciously empty town of Hogsmead. It was just past midnight, the moon shone brightly in the sky and somewhere in the distance a wolf was howling as Alecto grabbed him by the neck until they were so far out of reach that they could apparate out onto Malfoy grounds.

Theo's knees violently hit the ground and he felt a warmth that must have been blood oozing out of broken skin. They were just outside of the forest surrounding Malfory manor. "Just what shall we do with him, brother? His Lordship said we can do whatever?"

"Hmm. I think I know," said Amycus, head tilted at the sky, causing Theo's panic to turn to terror. "He gotta stay alive but I think if he dies, we can play it off as an accident, don't you think? Come on." He directed his wand at Theo, so he was dragged behind them in earnest now. His hands, his bleeding knees and feet rubbed against the hard ground making him want to cry out in pain. But his mouth was still sewed shut.

"Bit dangerous a night for a midnight stroll, don't you think?" Alector asked out loud but she could not hide the smile in her face.

"Nah. You know he prefers children." Amycus laughed loudly.

Theo was hyperventilating through his notes, panic and fear, guilt and shame scratching at his conscience as he understood that the Carrows had no intention of bringing him to You Know Who, or even the manor. They dragged him into the dark forest instead. Through deep cutting bushes and muddy wood, they pulled him past violently shredded trees and deeper and deeper into the scary forest. Theo's heart felt like it was about to explode when they finally, finally, reached a dark hut. Amycus raised his wand to open it, then they pushed him inside and closed the door shut behind him.

"Did you free his mouth, Amycus? Xou know he likes it when they scream." That was the last thing Theo heard before stark red eyes and the smell of wet fur told him that this was the last place on earth he wanted to be right now. They had undone the seams around his mouth. They must have because Theo could not remember much more than the sound of his own screams echoing through the forest.