The Dark Lord's Literary Appreciation Society

Chapter 13: Hallowe'en-tertainment

The next morning, Harry groaned as he rolled over in the too-big bed. The last thing he remembered was sitting in the bank with Sirius and Corvinus and a bunch of other people. Yesterday had been a really long day, and he wasn't really looking forward to today, either. He buried his face in the pillows, ignoring everything, until Snufflles came through the adjoining bathroom, woofing and scrambling up onto the bed and nosing around his head.

He refused to move, and eventually, Sirius swiped his big doggie tongue over Harry's ear. "Oh, ew!" Harry sat up, wiping the side of his head. "Padfoot!"

Sirius transformed, laughing, and hugged Harry. "Good Morning!"

"I am the only person on the planet who gets licked awake by his godfather," Harry complained.

Sirius settled back against the headboard, looking smug. "How are you feeling about everything this morning?"

"Eh," Harry shrugged. He had no idea how he felt about anything. He avoided the question by shoving himself up to sit next to Sirius, looking around for his glasses.

"They're here." Sirius reached across him to the bedside table.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, pushing the glasses up his nose.

Sirius waved the thanks off, "You know, if you wanted, we could get your vision fixed."

"That's a thing?" Harry looked up.

"Sure," Sirius wrapped an arm around him. "Your dad just liked glasses, the prat. Thought it made him look intelligent. But we can fix yours. It's a longish spell, and you'll need a specific healer, but there's a shop near Carkitt."

"Near where?" Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Carkitt Market," Sirius said. Harry looked at him closely, trying to determine whether or not he was joking. "I'm serious!" He broke into giggles at his pun, and Harry had no idea what to think. He shook his head and shuffled to the edge of the bed, thinking about a shower. "But, come on, pup, tell me the truth. How are you feeling after last night?"

Harry glanced back at his godfather and shrugged. "I hardly know. Everything's changing so fast, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," Sirius smiled softly. "But the important things aren't changing. You and me, we aren't changing."

"Yeah, but all of a sudden, Snape wants to talk to me. Voldemort's trying to protect me. McGonagall's helping you lie to Dumbledore. Professor Lupin wants to spend time with me again. Ron and Hermione might not be my friends, but Neville and a bunch of Slytherins are. And, I've got that stupid trial tomorrow. On top of all that," he flopped back onto the bed. "If I sneeze or fart, my hair changes color because I'm apparently leaking magic."

Sirius manfully didn't let even one chuckle slip out at that news. "And the identity test?" He asked, stroking a hand over Harry's forehead. The teenager had fallen back and now stared up at the ceiling.

"That's the hardest to deal with," Harry murmured. "He must have known. I don't think he'd have just left me there if he didn't first do a bunch of tests, so he chose the Dursleys instead of the Weasleys for some reason. Do you think Dumbledore wanted me treated worse than a house elf? Why? Especially since I would have been safer with the Weasleys because the blood wards would actually, you know, have shared blood to work with." He blinked back tears. "Do you think they didn't want me?"

"Oh Harry," Sirius sighed. "I don't know how anybody wouldn't want you, but we both know I'm biased. With how little Molly and Arthur care for blood status and ancestry, there's a better than average chance that they didn't even know you're related. The important thing is that there's no way you're ever going back to the Dursleys."