Aevumiter

3: Prefect

Harry had to fake surprise at the feast he was greeted with when he and Arthur got home. He faked relief at his clearing. He caught a slight hint of disappointment on Sirius' face, and found a moment to slip away from everyone else and talk to him.

"Sirius." Harry said, catching his attention.

"Harry. Congratulations are in order." Sirius smirked.

"I know... I know you don't want to be alone here." Harry said. "I promise that when this is over, I'll stay with you. You just have to stay alive. That's all you have to do. Stay alive so that I can come home."

Sirius pulled him into a hug. "We'll be a proper family." His godfather whispered.

"Well, I don't know about 'proper'," Harry said, "But we'll be a family for sure."

Sirius laughed, and let Harry out of the hug, only to ruffle his hair.

"Oi!" Harry complained, but the warmth that the gesture gave him far outweighed momentary annoyance.

~~~

There were several times someone made a comment, and it made Harry's skin itch with irritation. He knew it was the locket that was causing the reaction, and buried it as best as he could. He really did need to find a better place to keep it than on himself.

The second time he'd felt the locket's effect, it had been accompanied by a slight burn at his scar. Which answered another question he'd had. He was still a horcrux. 

Harry tried not to think about that. He was a walking, breathing, horrible dark magic artifact. He was connected to Voldemort in the worst way possible.

Ron made a comment about nasty slytherins once, and Harry had to promptly leave the room. As his blood cooled from boiling, Harry reminded himself that this Ron hadn't outgrown his prejudice against slytherins. Harry realized he wouldn't very well be able to keep a farce of hatred for the green clad house.

Well, maybe. Depended on how much of a git they were. Harry would probably just find them more annoying than evil, if he was honest with himself. 

And damn, he'd gotten comfortable in his truce with Draco Malfoy. They weren't friends, but they were... Friendly acquaintances? Classmates that didn't hold ill intent to the other? Harry didn't know if he'd be able to break the habit he'd been used to with eighth year Draco Malfoy. The banter they shared then was friendly, and they even showed concern for each other.

Harry pushed Draco Malfoy and slytherins in general from his mind. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He'd noticed that his appetite was gone over the past days, but he'd thought it was from his illness around the time hopping. Now, as he looked at his bare chest, he came to a different conclusion.

He didn't look like a skeleton, but he could still see his ribs standing out more than they should if he had been healthy. He guessed Mrs. Figg's description of 'rather skinny' was more appropriate than he'd realized previously. Harry tugged his shirt back on, and made a note to himself to be careful when he ate. He didn't want to overdo it and puke it all up again.

Harry missed having gotten clothes that actually fit him. Oddly enough, it was Malfoy who'd actually gotten that fixed for him. The slytherin claimed it was because he didn't want to see Harry's horrid 'clothes, if you can even call them that' around the eighth years' dorm. Harry had been incredibly lost on that trip, but Malfoy had seemed thrilled about making a fool of Harry.

On another occasion Harry had to hold back the unwanted anger, he took solace with Hedwig. He buried his face and fingers into her feathers. At first she'd seemed a bit startled, but then she'd warmed up to it. She even closed her eyes and leaned into Harry's touch when he found the perfect spot for scritches.