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White Flag	By : bittsweetmis Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 23910 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Twilight or any of their respective characters, they belong to JK Rowling, Stephanie Meyer and the appropriate publishing houses and film studios e.t.c. This is purely a work of fiction and no profit is made from

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Hi everyone,

It's been over a year now, and I'm sorry that I've been so indecisive with the future of White Flag.

I was in talks for the better part of the year with another author on fanfiction.net to adopt this fic. However, seeing as nothing has been posted, I have decided to move on and sort this out before I move to Japan for the year.

So White Flag is officially up for adoption and I would like to work with whoever I decide on giving my baby to, whether it's betaing, co-writing or chatting and sharing ideas.

Yep, instead of first come, first served, I'll be making the final decision based on the other author's compatibility with myself and their quality of writing.

I do want to see this story finished as much as the next person, but my lack of love for the Twilight fandom isn't helping at all. So I look forward to hearing from everyone interested in helping this story get to the ending that I envisioned.

So if you would like to adopt and work with me, please private message me, review, or email me at the address listed on my profile page.

Bittsweetmis xx

I Caught You Way Worse

The sounds of this small town make my ears hurt,

Oh yeah, you caught me, but I caught you way worse.

- Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends – Fall Out Boy

__________________

Severus Snape sat at the dining table at The Burrow, listening with half an ear as Nymphadora Tonks talked to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger about her Auror academy days. At the same time, Shacklebolt was informing Dumbledore and the Weasley parents about the ‘lack of progress’ in finding Potter. The boy’s single correspondence was gripped tightly in the old headmaster’s hand as he thrust it towards the Head Auror.

“I told you already, Albus! We’ve used every tracking spell that we can get our hand’s on!” Severus looked up from Molly’s stew at Kingsley’s raised voice. “The boy’s covered his tracks! There’s nothing we can do. Even his hair won’t tell us anything!”

‘Hair? That idiotic boy!’ Severus grimaced to himself. ‘I told him to be careful!’ He forced himself to loosen his hold on his spoon so that his ire would not be noticed by Dumbledore.

“Very well.” The headmaster said in a defeated tone. “I will concede that I have been had. Hopefully Horace will not be as victorious when I see him.”

“Horace? As in Horace Slughorn?” Arthur asked.

“Ah, yes, I am once again in need of a Defence professor and as nobody outside the school has taken interest in it, I must get Horace to fill in Severus’ position.” Here, Severus pointedly glared at Weasley and Granger, who were both openly staring at him.

“That was delicious, Molly.” Severus complimented the older woman as he handed her his now empty bowl. The red-headed woman magically cleaned the bowl and set it back in the cupboard with the others.

“Thank you. Tonks, dear, I left the rest in the pot; it should keep for two days at least.” Molly said before ushering her son and Granger out of their seats.

“Thanks, Molly, you’re a life saver.” Tonks said, looking at the cooker with some trepidation where the burnt remains her previous attempt at helping with dinner were still smoking.

“It was my pleasure. Come on Ron, Hermione, I know you’ve got work to do.” Before they left, Granger threw them a polite ‘Goodbye’.

Whilst Molly ensured her son and his friend were occupied, Tonks shot Severus a strained smile which turned to one of relief when the headmaster announced his departure.

“I must catch Horace before he moves again, goodnight.” Dumbledore took his leave through the front door rather than the Floo like everyone else did, with Arthur seeing him out. Once the door slammed shut, Kingsley made a sound in the back of his throat to catch Severus’ attention.

“I’m assuming you came over to talk and not just watch Dumbledore be stubborn.” Kingsley intoned.

“Indeed, I had intended to ask if you could keep Dumbledore away from Hogwarts for at least a few hours, but I find it is now unnecessary. It is best if you do not inquire about my reasons.” The last bit was spoken towards Tonks who had opened her mouth to talk.

“Then you’d best hurry and do what ever it is you need to do.” Kingsley replied. The two Aurors walked the Potions Master and new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher towards the Floo grate in the Weasleys’ front room.

“Tell Molly thank you for her hospitality.” Severus said politely before grabbing a handful of the green, sparkly powder.

“I will, Severus.” Tonks smiled. “You are always welcome at ours too, you know.”

Severus nodded and was about to throw the powder into the crackling flames when Kingsley grabbed his arm. “You’re still visiting them often, aren’t you?”

There was no question as to who they were referring about. “Yes.”

“How is Remus? Is he…well?”

“Yes. He is better now more so than ever now that he is free from this place. He and his ragtag Gryffindor have managed to make quite the family.” Severus briefly delighted in the flash of jealousy that the Auror accidentally let cross his face.

Kingsley frowned in thought. “That’s good then. You had best be off.”

With a final nod and his destination on his lips, Severus stepped into green flames and found himself spinning towards his quarters.

Stepping out of his fireplace, Severus banished the fire and charmed the soot away before he cast several disillusionment and invisibility charms upon himself, thinking about the portraits which liked to gossip. The teacher found himself easily and quickly making his way up to the headmaster’s office, not for the first time that week. Even his heeled boots did not make a sound on the stones that paved the old hallways of Hogwarts. Just thinking of the ring, the Horcrux that held a part of his ex-lover’s soul caused his veins to be filled with adrenaline and his blood to thrum in anticipation.

Quickening his pace, Severus soon found himself at the entrance to the Dumbledore’s office and the words ‘Fizzing Whizzbees’ fell from his lips in a hushed whisper. If the gargoyle was perturbed by the password being spoken by an invisible man, he did not show it as he granted Severus access to the staircase. Severus did not wait for the stairs to begin moving and ascended them hastily before opening the door and entering Dumbledore’s office. He shut the door behind him and leant against it, breathing deeply with closed eyes; he was far too tense. Severus then extended his senses, searching the spiritual resonance from Voldemort’s Horcrux. Opening his eyes, Severus felt somewhat bereft when he did not feel anything.

‘For Salazar’s sake! Don’t tell me he kept it with him!’ Severus thought, not counting on the old man being so paranoid that he kept the artefact on his person. He surveyed the office and eyed the sleeping portraits with distaste and jumped when he found Fawkes staring at him intently. ‘Fucking damned birds!’ Unnerved, Severus kept his eyes on the phoenix, which flew from his perch onto the desk and turned to look at the teacher expectantly. The black-haired man took the hint and made his way to the desk, all the while conscious of the immortal bird’s gaze that never wavered from him.

‘It’s still in the desk!’ Severus thought. He recalled that first time he had seen the ring Albus had been holding the ring in both hands, but when Severus caught his attention, he transferred the ring to his…right hand, and his shoulder was twisted in that direction, so the Horcrux had to be in one of the right hand-side drawers. Putting on his gloves, Severus prepared to open the drawers when Fawkes jumped onto the floor and pecked lightly at the second drawer down. Casting several diagnostic spells on the drawer in question, Severus found no obstacles and tugged on the handle with some trepidation. He was disappointed when Voldemort’s aura did not wash over him; however, he noticed a small wooden box with runes and sigils carved over it lying on top of some old and crumbling parchments. He recognised a few which were synonymous with secrecy and Fawkes’ low trill confirmed his suspicions that Voldemort’s ring awaited him inside. Severus gently closed the drawer with a quiet click and clutched the box tightly in his grip. He was making his way back towards the door when Fawkes gave an alarmed squawk, causing his stomach to sink; Dumbledore was close. Whirling back to face Fawkes, Severus understood that there was a reason that Fawkes wanted him to find the Horcrux and it was not so that he could get caught.

“You must take me to Malfoy Manor!” Severus hissed. “Now!” The urgency in his voice was almost tangible. He grimaced as the blasted bird flew straight towards him and encompassed his entire being in warm flames.

Once the flames subsided, Severus opened his eyes to find himself in Lucius’ private study;, the blonde in question had lost his composure and gaped at Severus and Fawkes. “I…”

Severus turned his head to Fawkes. “Will you be returning to the Headmaster?” When the phoenix did not leave and merely tilted his head, Severus sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Very well, Lucius has a gilded perch in the den of his private quarters, you may go there.” As soon as he finished his sentence, Fawkes vanished from his position on Severus’ arm.

Lucius got up from his position behind his desk and moved toward Severus. “What in Merlin’s name is going on?!?” He asked, gripping the short man’s arms tightly in his hands.

Severus tried to resist the eyes that were scanning his face beseechingly, but found that he could not. “I found one of them.”

“A Horcrux? Are you certain?” Lucius’ hold on Severus tightened.

“I am. It is in the form of a ring.”

“Where is it? Does Dumbledore know of its existence?”

“I do not know where or how he found it.” Severus admitted. “He kept it in his office.” He looked away, growing uncomfortable under Lucius’ examining gaze.

Lucius brought a hand up to Severus’ chin and tilted his face so that their eyes met. “Do not hide from me. What have you done, my love?” His voice became hushed in an almost dangerous tone.

“I stole the Horcrux, Dumbledore nearly caught me in the act so that bloody bird brought me here. It is in this box.” Severus felt guilty as he withdrew the ornate box from his robes. He knew that there was already enough strain on their relationship. “I have not opened it.”

The blonde pulled away with a hurt expression. “As if that means anything. You never act brashly, Severus. You knew about this before these late hours. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

Severus flinched at Lucius’ accusing tone. “I only found out about it at the beginning of this week when I walked in on Dumbledore practically worshipping it. I had planned for Auror Shacklebolt to provide a distraction, however my replacement meant that it was not necessary. I took the opportunity I was given before the Horcrux could get destroyed.”

“You could have been hurt…or worse.”

“I was not thinking.”

“So impulsive, Severus. It appears that you have changed.”

“Finding out that your revered mentor pretty much killed two of your previous loved ones does that to a person.”

“Voldemort is not dead.”

“Right now, he is more than likely fucking your sister-in-law. He might as well be.”

“But we have hope of restoring a past self. You must be relieved.”

“What makes you say that? You think that as soon as he remembers my previous role in his life I will go running back to him?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Do you truly think so little of our relationship, Lucius? I am not so frivolous in my relationships. Despite Narcissa’s interference, I am with you now. I want to be with you.”

“What if…what if we do succeed, and he wants you again?” Lucius asked slowly as he sat on the edge of his desk.

“I admit that I do still love him, but no more than I love you. We will tackle that problem when the time comes, but for now…”

“For now, we shall enjoy ourselves as much as we can with our burdens.” Lucius said as Severus crossed the room to join him as he held his arms open. They both kissed each other chastely in a way that both would say was timid compared to previous gestures. However, when Severus broke the kiss he had a worried expression on his face.

“Now you are hiding something from me. What is it?”

“He has called for Draco and is disappointed in me. I do not think I can successfully vouch for my son any longer.” Lucius rested his head on Severus’ shoulder as the black haired man rubbed his back, taking in this new development.

“I had expected as much. What does Narcissa have to say on this matter?” Severus confessed. His voice held no small amount of contempt as he asked after his lover’s wife.

“She is still unhappy at the disgrace I have bought upon our family and is grateful for a chance at recovery. However, at the same time, Draco is our son and she worries about his well being as much as I.”

“Where are they tonight?”

“Draco is with the Zabini family for the weekend and Narcissa is visiting Bellatrix. Both will be back on Monday evening.”

“Then, will you let me take care of your wellbeing? Even though I cannot lift the weight from your shoulders, I can help ease the pressure.”

Lucius smiled softly and Severus found himself in awe of this wondrous expression. “I’d like that.”

Severus could feel that smile against his lips as Lucius’ mouth moved against his and sighed when the other man pulled away, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You must have been pretty desperate to go anywhere near that bird.” Lucius commented slyly, his smile turning into a smirk.

The Potions Master grimaced, thinking of all the ways he had previously avoided the Malfoy estate’s resident peacocks. “You have no idea.”

Lucius’ rich laughter filled the halls of the mansion as the couple made their way to the blonde’s bedroom.

)(0)(

Ron smiled encouragingly at his mother as she levitated a large cake over to the dinner table where he was sat with his father, Ginny and Hermione. Molly hadn’t been coping well since Fred and George had moved into the flat above their shop; she had started to cook more and more and Hermione said that it was the start of ‘empty nest syndrome’…whatever that was.

“This looks delicious, Love.” Arthur complimented as he began slicing the cake. Even though the portions were generous (even by Ron’s standards) there was more than half of the dessert leftover.

“Maybe we can take some for the twins when we go and have a look at their shop.” Ginny suggested.

“Actually, I was thinking of giving some to Bill and Remus when we go and visit them.”

Ron yelped as he bit his tongue. He shared a look with Hermione.

“Oh. When are they expecting you?” The brunette asked.

“Actually, it’s going to be a surprise. Bill’s been so quiet lately; did you know I only found out that he and that French Veela broke up earlier this week? I knew she was no good for my son.”

Hermione put down her fork. “That’s so sad for Bill.” She said awkwardly not having been close to either Bill or Fleur. “But are you sure that’s okay? I mean what if you go and they’re at work or something?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Bill never was good with housework was he, Molly?” Arthur looked at his wife as Hermione floundered.

“Or what if they’re sleeping?” Ron piped in. When everyone looked at him he clarified. “You know, what with time differences.”

“You are right Ronald! I shall owl Bill at once!” Arthur declared enthusiastically as he stood up, having finished his chocolate cake. He left the kitchen-diner after pressing kisses to both his wife’s and daughter’s cheeks and ruffling his son’s hair. Ginny also left the table, on the grounds that she wanted to listen to a show on the wireless, but Ron was certain that she was up to something. He flushed as he turned back to find Hermione beaming at him.

“What?” He hissed suspiciously - girls did not smile for no reason.

“Nothing!”

“If you say so…” Ron cast a wary look over his shoulder towards the muggleborn witch as he went to help his mum with the dishes. They were halfway done when a loud knocking could be heard at the front door. Molly jumped, startled and hurried to the door, flustered, to tend to their unexpected guest. A momentary silence passed between the two friends as Ron scrubbed at a stubborn stain. It was broken when Hermione began to talk.

“It’s going to be different this year, with Harry gone. Things aren’t going to be the same.” She sniffled unhappily.

“Oi, cheer up! We can always visit Bill and Moony over the holidays, you know.” Ron said uncertainly, not sure how it was possible for ‘Mione to suddenly become so sullen.

Both were prevented from saying anything further when Molly came back in the room.

“Ron, dear, Albus wishes to speak with you.” She announced anxiously. True to her word, the old wizard entered after her, but what caught both Ron and Hermione’s attention was the disturbingly familiar potion that Dumbledore held in one of his hands.

“Ah! Ron m’boy! I was wondering if I may steal you away this lovely evening!”

The redhead hid his grimace at the shear thought of once again consuming the sludgy Polyjuice Potion and nodded. “Is it something to do with Harry? Have you heard from him?”

“Not exactly no.” Dumbledore confessed. “There’s an old colleague of mine who I need the help of in order effectively fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort, however, first I need his cooperation. And that is where I need you services.”

“But what can I do?” Ron asked even though he had a funny feeling about this.

Dumbledore uncorked the large flask and dropped a single strand of hair inside of it. “Simply drink one mouthful of this.” He said offering it to Ron.

The teenager looked at his mother and his friend uncertainly, trying to get hints on what he should do from either of them, but both of their eyes were riveted on the contents of the flask which slowly fizzed and turned golden.

The youngest Weasley male took the flask from the aged hands and brought it to his lips. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘it could be worse. Nothing could be as bad as Crabbe.’ Ron was right about the taste. It was sweet, slightly chocolatey with a fruity taste that Ron couldn’t identify. If this was a different situation, he would have cracked a joke about Harry’s romantic tastes.

Ron groaned and placed a hand to his stomach as he felt himself shrink. This sensation was completely different to the one that he experienced when he pretended to be Crabbe. The Slytherin had been larger than Ron and as such, despite being taller, Ron had had to undergo the pain of having bulk added beneath his changing skin. Now, Ron felt weird as fat and muscle were taken away from his form. His eyes burnt as they changed to accommodate Harry’s short-sightedness. He vaguely registered a brief tickling sensation on the back of his neck as his own red hair shortened to his friend’s messy black mop but this was overshadowed by the intense nausea he felt.

Ron clenched his eyes shut as if that action would help prevent him from throwing up all over his mum, Hermione and Dumbledore (even if the latter did deserve it), and swayed when he heard his mum calling his name worriedly. The worse was soon over and as Ron opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was that Harry really was blind and upon tilting his head back to look at ‘Mione and Dumbledore’s blurred heads he was glad that he was as tall as he was because it must suck to be so short all the time. Well at least Harry was taller than his mum; he could retain some dignity there.

Ron’s clothes were now massive on Harry’s body and the redhead was quick to point that out along with the fact that he couldn’t see a damned thing.

“Ah, how careless of me!” Dumbledore waved his wand and Ron’s clothes changed to more fitted muggle regalia which he could imagine Harry wearing (even though there was no oversized jumper to be had). “Here these should do the trick, some spares that Poppy had on hand.” The headmaster produced a replica of Harry’s glasses from inside his robes and Ron wrinkled his nose as he put them on, not used to the feeling of having them on his face. He was happy when his vision cleared.

“How long are you going to be? It is late after all.” Molly inquired.

“No more than half an hour, not to worry!” Dumbledore said jovially. “It’s just a quick visit. Now Mr Weasley, if you’ll take my arm, we can go.”

“Okay.” Ron gulped, still finding bloody odd how his voice came out sounding like Harry’s. As soon as his hand was rested in the crook of Dumbledore’s arm, Ron winced as the world twisted with a deafening crack, and he experienced the sensation of being sucked through a tiny tube of sorts.

--.--.--

Hermione wrung her hands fretfully as she paced around the Weasley living room. It felt like Ron had been gone for several hours rather than twenty minutes. Mrs. Weasley was upstairs with her husband and daughter, waiting out her own anxiety there. The young witch was glad that Harry had refused to tell them where he was exactly, now that she knew what sort of a person Dumbledore was;, she wouldn’t put it past him to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. Hermione was snapped out of her reverie when she heard the front door open then slam shut. Hermione drew her wand, but almost dropped it in surprise when she saw Harry come in through the door… a taller and bulkier Harry…with hair that was rapidly turning ginger.

“RON!” Hermione cried out in relief just before she leapt at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Ron accidentally dropped his cloak on the floor as he tried to wrestle himself out of Hermione’s embrace (even if he did think it felt a bit nice). “Bloody ‘ell woman! Stop strangling me!”

Hermione stepped back awkwardly. “Oh…urm…sorry.” She blushed heavily whilst thinking that it was odd to hear Harry’s voice and Ron’s speech mixed together. “How was it? What did you have to do?”

“Nought much really. He made me meet this Slughorn bloke to get him to come to Hogwarts. He’s a bit of a kiss up really; he had all these photos of celebrities.”

“That’s it?” Hermione asked sceptically as they heard Ron’s parents descend the stairs.

“I know what you mean. Though I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll never wish to be Harry again; Dumbledore’s bloomin’ nuts!”

)(0)(

Harry couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; he wasn't sure what was worse: facing off a swarm of grindylows or starting a new school. At both his Infant and Junior schools in Surrey, Dudley had seen to it that not even the teachers would have a shred of sympathy towards the scrawny, young orphan. There had been no hope for the other easily influenced kids. However, Harry hoped that starting at Forks would be somewhat different. After all, it would just be him and Neville with no Dudley or Malfoy to torment them. He grabbed his school bag from the worktop as he shoved the rest of his slice of toast in his mouth before he hurried to meet Neville who was waiting by the front door, impatiently glancing at his watch.

“Sorry.” Harry apologised sheepishly; he had been running about the house for at least half an hour gathering things that he had forgotten to pack the night before.

“Don't worry about it. We have plenty of time.” Neville smiled. He locked the front door behind them, as Bill and Remus had already left for work twenty minutes earlier after wishing them both good luck.

“Do you want to drive or shall I?” The green-eyed teen asked. He juggled his bag and folders as he unlocked the boot of the car he shared with Neville. They were both splitting the costs for fuel, maintenance and insurance on the red, second hand Nissan Altima that Remus and Bill had contributed some money towards.

“Well, seeing as I was waiting on you for so long... you drive.” Neville said teasingly. They had both passed their driving tests a few days earlier after an intensive set of lessons.

The drive to the local secondary school ('High school!' Harry had to remind himself) took about fifteen minutes whilst following the speed limit. It was a somewhat refreshing prospect; to have his 'home' life and school life separate. But he did have to wonder how many students there were exactly; not only was the town small, but there would also be only four year groups. It seemed like it would total up to a small amount. Trying to be inconspicuous would be harder than he expected.

Actually, scratch that. From the looks that he was getting as he pulled into the parking lot that he had almost missed, hiding in the crowds would be impossible. Whilst Harry got out and locked the car with a small grimace, unfortunately used to having people stare at him, Neville kept his eyes peeled to the ground, disliking the interested gazes that were locked onto his body. Harry tugged his jacket closer to his body, surprised by the chilly wind.

“I think we're meant to go through there.” He gestured to the main entrance of the building where he supposed the administration department was located.

“Yeah, let's go.” They trudged their way to the administrative office and got their timetables whilst patiently fending off the questions that the women behind the desk were throwing at them. It was easy to tell that there wasn't much excitement to be had in this town which was a borderline village. Luckily for both teenagers, there were only a few lessons that they would not be sharing this semester. Apparently, Remus thought it would be better for the boys' social skills if they weren't together all the time.

Personally, Harry thought to himself as he and Neville made their way through the corridors of Forks High School, Remus would never say anything like that again if he saw the way the other teens were reacting to the two British newcomers. He was surprised that nobody had attempted to introduce themselves yet. Maybe the nervousness of the new school year was being a distraction. Only God (and maybe some unfortunate souls) knew what it was like to transfer in during the middle of term. 'Ouch.'

Both of the teenage wizards entered the doorway of what they hopeds to be their first class – literature - and were met by the sight of tall, portly and balding man penning his name with flair against the whiteboard. Apparently, they were among the last stragglers as most of the seats had been filled up by other students who were noisily chatting to each other.

“Umm, excuse me?” Harry piped up, trying to speak up over the noisy din. “Is this the third year Literature class?”

The teacher turned their way, and Harry could only describe his face as being 'jolly'. “Indeed it is Mr. ...I'm sorry, I don't quite recognise you... have I taught you before?”

“Well, actually...” Neville began.

“No! Don't tell me! I endeavour to remember all of my students' names and faces...well, at least during school hours...” The teacher, Mr. Lough, tapped the point between his eyebrows as he tried to focus.

“What Neville meant to say, um, Sir,” Harry tried again. “Is that we're new here.”

Mr Lough's eyes lit up in joy. “Oh! Of course! New students! Jolly good.” He took some sheets from the stacks of paper on desk and handed one of each to both Harry and Neville. “Right, this here is a list of classroom rules, all standard paperwork, I'm afraid boys. The green pack is the outline for this year with some useful websites at the bottom. And the yellow one has this year's texts in bold - which I am afraid that you will have to buy – some study guides in italic, should you need them, and some useful background texts which I am sure are in the library. Oh, and at the bottom is my email address should you need any assistance.”

“Eh, thank you, Sir.” Neville smiled as he absent- mindedly leafed through the papers.

“Not at all, Mr. ...”

“Oh! It's Mondstrahl. I'm Neville and this is Harry.”

“Well, Harry and Neville Mondstrahl, I'm Mr. Lough, but I think you'll soon find yourselves joining your new classmates and calling me by my given name, Geoff. Welcome to Forks High.”

“Erm thanks. Where should we sit?” Harry asked, not liking the way the class had sensed that the conversation was drawing to an end and were now looking at the front expectedly.

“Well, you can sit between Miss Cullen and Mr. Newton, Harry, and you, Neville, can sit next to Miss Weber by the window...just as soon as you introduce yourselves to the class.” Mr. Lough took in their expressions and chuckled to himself. “You'd best get it out of the way, like ripping off a plaster.”

Harry and his friend reluctantly twisted to the front as Mr. Lough unnecessarily announced their presence.

“Umm, hi.” Harry began nervously. “My name's Harry Mondstrahl, and I'm from England. Well, Surrey to be more precise.” At the few blank looks he was receiving, he clarified. “It's near London. Err, I turned sixteen in July and I've been in the country with my family for just over a month. And, and... that's it... I think?” Okay, so maybe Remus was right. Maybe he did need some social skills.

“I-I'm Ne-Neville Mondstrahl, I turned si-sixteen the day after Harry. My home town in England is called R-Reading which is also near London, I guess. Actually, I'm from a small village near Reading, but people tend not to recognise it. Urm... Harry and I met each other when we were eleven on the train ride to our old boarding school.”

Before Mr. Lough could dismiss them to their seats, a girl stuck her hand up. “Wait, I thought you guys were like related or something. I mean, some of us have seen you around, you totally live together.”

“Now, Miss Sanchez, that is a bit of a sensitive question isn't i-”

“That's right. Uncle Remus adopted me and Neville this summer. He's a mutual friend of both our parents.”

“And like, where are they, and is Re-mus the hot stud you're living with?” The same girl asked, popping the gum she was chewing on.

“Miss Sanchez-!”

“I'd prefer not to say.” Neville said quietly, earning an annoyed scoff from their interviewer.

“My mum and dad died when I was a baby. I'd been staying with my aunt and her husband since then, but now I'm staying with Uncle Remus and Bill. I think Bill's the bloke you're on about'. He's our mate's eldest brother, and he's living with us because he has a job in Seattle. But, I think he's a bit out of your league.” Harry scowled at the girl, whilst hoping that he'd managed to carry his voice as much like Malfoy or Snape as he could in that last sentence. Just because everyone at Hogwarts and in Wizarding Britain knew his business didn't mean that he was happy to let some bird make Neville feel low.

“Well... that was certainly... informative. Now Neville, if you'll sit next to Miss Weber by the window, ah, yes, thank you Angela. And you, Harry, I believe I placed next to...Mike Newton.” Mr. Lough ushered the boys to their seats, Neville was sat near the front between an overgrown spider plant and a friendly looking girl who he was already talking to, whereas Harry was sat at the back next to a pretty girl who looked quite short, and a guy who was fairly good looking, but unfortunately appeared to be the epitome of heterosexuality.

“And Miss Sanchez, I need you to stay behind so we can have a little chat about tact and manners. Okay?” Mr. Lough said before returning to his position at the whiteboard. “Now then guys and girls, welcome to another exciting year of high school. Let's talk about assessments, shall we?” There was a collective groan.

Harry smiled politely at the brunette girl he had been place next to and gave a whispered 'Hi' before turning to the bloke on his left who was gesturing at him. “Man, Leanne shouldn't have grilled you like that. She was being a total bitch. I'm uh...real sorry about your parents.”

Harry blinked at that, confused for a bit. No one had ever said that about his parents or Sirius. “That's okay,” he smiled back warmly. “I've had a long time to get over the fact I'm an orphan. I'm just grateful I have the family I have around me. It's not all about blood, y'know?”

“I get that, I guess. I'm Mike, Mike Newton.”

“I'd be worried if you weren't.” Harry chuckled quietly. “Harry Po-Mondstrahl.”

“I know. Hey, we have some space on our usual table; do you and your...brother wanna sit with us at lunch? Angela'll be there so he'll definitely know somebody. Would that be cool with you guys?”

Harry turned towards Neville and saw him and Angela exchanging whispers with their heads bowed towards each other, engrossed in their quiet conversation.

“That'd be cool.” He grinned, turning back to Mike.

'Just like ripping off a plaster, huh?’

Thanks for the feedback and being patient with me.
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