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AU. When Sirius and Remus go looking for Peter Pettigrew, they make a wrong turn and someone else finds him first. Eight years later, Sirius owns a book store and Remus manages it for him. When Harry stumbles into the store and they find out the truth, they decide it's time to be Stealing Harry. (SB/RL slash relationship in later chapters.)

To her credit, Dora was not one to go crying to her parents. Ted Tonks never heard a word about the incident in the hallway, which was probably for the best, since he was genuinely fond, in his own quiet way, of Severus. As September turned to October, he and his wife may have noticed that Dora was never available to visit at the same time Severus was, but, after all, professors did keep different schedules -- and as the most junior of the lot, she was expected to chaperone a good many of the Hogsmeade trips. She seemed to her parents to be enjoying herself, and aside from the icy and tenuous cease-fire between herself and Snape, she honestly was.

While Harry and his friends went about their classes, attended Quidditch practice, and got detentions for being out after-hours when coming back from writing naughty but melodious limericks in the music room, Sirius and Remus had been just as busy. Remus, who had an eccentric love of selling people things, was hired on for extra shifts at Madam Schaeffer's Scholars' Emporium; Sirius had sold one toy design to them already, and been commissioned to work on a new toy for older children which could be on shop shelves in time for Christmas. His idea for sexual-education dolls had been shot down on the grounds that it would only attract perverts, though Madam Schaeffer herself had been uproariously amused by the prototype. Captain Kneazle, the action-figure feline which came with a variety of heroic costumes, was impractical for this year but had definite potential; toy testers were still recovering from wounds inflicted by the self-retrieving frisbee. Still, he persevered. Madam Schaeffer, having met Sirius, had every faith in his ability to think like a fourteen-year-old.

"I'm thinking about Quidditch," Sirius said, leaning against Remus' leg.

"Oh god," Remus answered.

"Please, just a minute more," said Helena Broosh.

They obediently sat still while she finished her charcoal work, dusted her fingers off, and held up the pad of paper at arm's length, comparing her drawing with the real thing.

"All right, that's good," she said. "It's enough for a first study, anyway, and I can experiment with the charms on it."

"Can we see it?" Sirius asked, from the floor. Remus gave him a hand up, and they both came forward to study the result of their first sitting for the portrait. In sketchy charcoal, smudged and fingerprinted here and there, two men smiled back at them: Sirius, seated on the floor with one arm draped over his knee, leaned back against one corner of the chair on which Remus sat, hands folded quietly in his lap.

"It's not very...dynamic," Remus said, slowly. "Composition-wise, I mean. I'm sort of sitting there like a lump."

"Well, you'll have a book and maybe your legs crossed," Helena said. "And see, when Mr Black is in dog form, he'll be here," she said, drawing in the rough outline of a large dog lying in front of Remus.

"I like that," Sirius said with a grin, winking across the page at Remus, who blushed slightly. "Favoured pet at adored master's feet."

"We could put you both on the floor, if you prefer," Helena said, matching Sirius' grin. "I like the levels, though; I think it captures your personalities. That's half the difficulty, of course -- we've got to get the portrait moving and talking and acting like you, and then over that we have to layer the Dorian Gray charms. When we actually start on the sittings you'll be encouraged to talk to me and to each other; I just wanted something to play with for a few days."

"Don't we all," Remus said gravely. Sirius affected amazement.

"Was that a joke, Mr Lupin?" he asked.

"It may have been, Mr Black," Remus replied. Helena looked amused.

"I'd like to consult with one or two other colleagues throughout the process, but none of the cofidentiality clauses in the contract will be broken," she said. "Can I schedule you for a second sitting sometime next week? I'd like to fit in two more between now and the end of November, though I realise you have busy schedules and I'm somewhat booked myself this time of year -- lots of holiday work. Speak with Crane on the way out, he'll schedule you. He's the young one with the spectacles."

"And the lecherous ways," Sirius muttered. Remus gave him a look, but preened just a little when he noticed Sirius possessively place himself between Remus and Crane while they were discussing scheduling.

***

October was unseasonably warm that year, and Hallowe'en was impending, making all the students restless. It even infected Padma, who usually preferred intellectual pursuits and had a tendency to roll her eyes at the three boys whose company she kept. In fact, though Harry usually planned their evening mischief, and Draco -- whose sense of direction was best -- usually led the way, Padma was the one who suggested they go wandering in the first place, and always found the best places to explore in. It was harmless fun, though there was the odd detention for being caught, and Andromeda would have threatened Neville with strangling if she'd known that he was the one who led them down the narrow tiles of the roof-peak, the one time they managed to get out onto it.

If it hadn't been Percy Weasley who told on them and Dora whom he told to, things might have gone so differently.

Most of the boys above fifth-year or so nursed a harmlessly mild crush on Professor Tonks, as young men will do when they are prisoner to their hormones and confronted with a young, good-looking instructor who could in addition take any one of them in a fight. Oddly enough, Percy wasn't one of them; she didn't keep enough order in her classroom to please him, but then it was doubtful that any classroom which actually had living beings in it was orderly enough for Percy, as his brother Ron was quick to point out. Instead Percy sensibly and boringly took up with the Ravenclaw prefect and was secretly adored by Hermione Granger, who shared his passion for rules and regulations.

They had been down to a not-often-visited area of the dungeons, to see Completely Headless Nick in his first official Head Polo tournament since joining the Headless Hunt. Nick's side lost, but it was a near thing, and after centuries of having to look on, Nick couldn't care less who won or lost so long as he got to play.

Harry wasn't far from the dormitory, of course, and he could slip back without much fear of being caught, especially since Professor Snape's unusually keen eyes tended to fail when a Slytherin was the guilty party slinking along the hallways. He hadn't even bothered to bring his cloak, or he would have thought to lend it to the other three, especially Padma, who had the furthest to go.

They left Draco presumably safe at the bottom of the stairs, barely a minute's walk from the Hufflepuff cellars and under the eye of the Fat Friar, who had been one of the spectators in the Head Polo game. The ghosts especially liked Draco, for reasons that the others could only guess at; perhaps it was that Draco, the child of two ancient, breeding-obsessed houses, valued history and tended to know the names and stories of people long dead. When you can't leave the castle, eat, or indulge in other various pleasures of the flesh, having someone pay a bit of attention is always gratifying.

"Oh bugger," Neville said, as he and Padma made their way down the corridor towards Gryffindor's portrait-entrance and, beyond, Ravenclaw's tower. "I think I've forgotten the password again."

"Got your remembrall on?" she asked, but Neville held up his bare arm. "Neville, remembralls only work if you remember them."

"I know that!" Neville said irritably.

"Well, don't shout at me," Padma sighed. "I don't know the password. Can you knock?"

"Password," the Fat Lady prompted sleepily.

"Hold onto your stockings," Padma replied. "Come on, Neville, it only changes once a month -- "

She stopped, because Neville was looking over her shoulder in terror, and turned.

It would be Percy Weasley, the most officious, rulebound Prefect to ever forget to remove the broomstick from his arse. He was wearing a bathrobe with his Prefect's badge pinned onto it, and his hair was damp; he'd probably come from his bath.

"Longbottom," he said darkly. "Patil."

"Prefect," they chorused.

"You're out after hours."

"Padma was just bringing me some homework," Neville blurted. The fact that he had no parchments or books with him was not lost on Percy.

"Come on, Percy," Padma said. "It's not much after hours, and my dormitory's only five minutes from here -- "

"And you're only twelve!" Percy said, apparently attempting to shame them into something, though a glance at Neville told Padma that he was as oblivious to what that might be as she was.

"I'm almost thirteen," Padma ventured. Percy's eyes darkened.

"Oh, are we having a party?" said a new voice. Percy whirled. Professor Tonks was leaning against the wall, grinning. "I like your bathrobe, Weasley. Hi, Neville."

Percy flushed. "I was coming back from a bath -- "

"Clearly. Personal hygiene, very important," Tonks agreed.

"And I found Longbottom and Patil -- "

"Padma, right?" Tonks asked. "You're the Ravenclaw twin. This isn't your dormitory."

"No, Professor," Padma said, ducking her head. She hated getting in trouble, not really because of the punishment but because getting in trouble was mortifying and shameful. She didn't even like it when Parvati got in trouble, and Parvati got in trouble a lot more often than Padma did.

"Having a midnight tryst?" Tonks inquired. Percy looked a little triumphant. "Or rather, a ten-thirty tryst. Neville treating you like a gentleman should?"

"Awww, Dora..." Neville moaned.

"That's Professor Tonks to you, Neville," she said with a slight grin.

"It wasn't like that, Professor," Padma said.

"Quite right. Well, I think ten points from Gryffindor and ten points from Ravenclaw ought to -- " she paused, and peered down the corridor. "Well, this is a party."

Snape loomed terrifyingly out of the shadows.

"I hardly think that's an appropriate sobriquet for this situation, do you?" he asked. "Weasley, get inside and out of that ridiculous bathrobe."

Percy nearly hopped to obey, crying "Felinus Est!" at the portrait, which obediently allowed him inside.

"Felinus est?" Padma demanded. "That's your Gryffindor idea of a password? 'It's a cat'?"

"I didn't come up with it," Neville retorted.

"I can handle this...pair," Snape said, lip curling slightly.

"You could," Tonks agreed, coldly. One of Snape's hands fell on Neville's shoulder. Neville and Padma exchanged despairing looks. "If I were inclined to use students as pawns in grown-up games."

Snape stared at her.

"Run inside, Neville, and remind Percy to change the password," Tonks said, and Neville darted out from under Snape's grasp and through the Gryffindor portrait. "Padma, off you go."

Padma glanced up at Snape, and then ran off.

"If they were out, you can be sure Mr Malfoy was as well," Snape said. "No doubt he's returned by now."

"No doubt," she replied. "And Harry too, I'm sure."

He was silent at that.

"Shall we take ten points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin as well?" she asked. "On the basis of speculation?"

"What would be the point of taking anything, if all four Houses lost an equal amount?"

"Well, it has a nice symmetry to it," she sighed. "There's little enough balance around here right now."

"I don't believe I know what you mean."

She leaned back against the wall again. "Are we going to spend the whole year sniping at each other? We used to get along, you know. I distinctly remember."

"We tolerated each other."

"Oh, come on, Professor -- "

"Need we be on good terms?" he asked. "You will be here another eight months, at most, and I see no reason for our paths to cross more often than at daily meals."

"Are you still angry about me impersonating you? I said I was sorry."

"Professor Tonks," he said, drawing himself up fully, his face fearsome in the flickering torchlight, "you have managed not only to steal the position which by right of ability and experience should be mine, but you then added insult to injury by stealing my face as well. Kindly keep your own as far away from me as possible, if it's not too much to ask."

Before she could formulate a reply, there was a shriek from the other side of the portrait, and Neville and Percy emerged, Percy gripping Neville's collar.

"Eavesdropp -- " Percy began, but Snape cut him off.

"Longbottom! Detention!" he snapped, and turned to stalk away, leaving Dora there to gently shove Percy and Neville back into Gryffindor's common room and shut the portrait behind them.

"Now what?" she asked the empty, chilly corridor air.

***

"Well, at least we're all annoying together," said Harry the next morning, when they found that not only had Gryffindor and Ravenclaw lost points, but Slytherin and Hufflepuff as well. Not very much, ten points, but still irksome, especially as it wasn't the first time. They were well on their way, those four, to the uneasy status of Fred and George Weasley, who had both their own share and, clearly, Percy's share of mischeviousness as well. They were respected and popular, but nobody was ever very happy with them.

"Cept me," Neville said sulkily. "I'm annoying and I have detention."

"Serves you right for eavesdropping," Padma said, unconcernedly buttering her toast. "You know better."

"You know better than to get caught, anyway," Draco said.

"I don't like the way he speaks to Dora," Neville said persistently. "He never used to speak to her that way."

"Who knows why Professor Snape does anything he does?" Draco asked. "I say we get Percy Weasley back for being a miserable tell-tale."

"A prank?" Harry's ears almost literally pricked up.

"A Hallowe'en prank," Draco said, leaning in closer. He and Harry both glanced at Padma, waiting for the usual objections and reasons, but she gave them a not-altogether-reassuring grin, and leaned in also. Only Neville wasn't yet part of the little crowd of heads.

"Up to you," Harry said, glancing at him. Neville fidgeted with his remembrall-bracelet.

"Nothing too mean," he said. "It's not like we weren't out after-hours."

"If it were me -- " Draco began, but Harry gave him a quelling look, then coughed to interrupt Padma, who had been about to say something about the Weasley family's reputation.

"You know Fred and George are all right, and Ron and Ginny," Harry said severely. "It's just Percy, and he can't help being the way he is. And none of them," he added significantly, "can help that their family's poor."

"Fine," Padma said. "So what do we do?"

"Dye in his bathwater?" Draco suggested.

"We've done that already," Harry pointed out.

"When did we dye anyone?"

"Well, we painted the Gryffindors who bullied Neville," Harry said.

"Maybe that's our signature," Neville observed.

"Maybe that's a good way to get caught and expelled," Padma said.

"What annoys Percy most?" Draco asked.

"Mess," Neville said promptly. The others looked at him. "He hates anything to get out of order. Ron says he irons his socks. Or uses an ironing spell, anyway. And nobody ever nicks ties or robes off him, because he knows and he makes a stink about it."

"Sounds like your mum," Harry said to Draco, who was looking thoughtful. "Any ideas?"

"I have one," Draco said. "How're your sticking charms, Padma?"

***

The Hallowe'en Feast that year was splendid; the house-elves outdid the previous year's culinary delights, with surprise exploding peas, orange mashed potatoes, roasts that howled when you carved them, and chocolate-filled pumpkin pies. The ghosts, who had all been invited to Completely Headless Nick's deathday party, were all at their brightest, and even Peeves the Poltergeist, a notable troublemaker, was spending too much time herding bats around the ceiling to spell out naughty phrases and dodging Filch's attempts to stop him to do any real harm. A troupe of dancing skeletons entertained them all with acrobatics, jaw-juggling, and the ever-popular Bone Explosion, which littered the Great Hall with clicking white bones that slowly reassembled themselves bit by bit.

Even after all of that, however, Harry had to admit that the handiwork before him put all else to shame. It was a thing of beauty.

Hallowe'en was a traditional time for pranks, of course, but tonight they had taken the art to a new level, and he felt a ridiculous amount of pride in it. Padma held up her camera and snapped another photograph. Draco, standing next to her with his arms crossed, gazed up at their night's work like an artist looking at a finished canvas.

"It's wonderful," said Fred Weasley, behind him.

"Don't you feel a bit of a traitor?" Draco asked Fred. "I mean, I don't care, but out of curiosity, you're all right doing this to your own brother?"

"Percy's not stupid," Fred replied. "He'll get it down, no problem. I just hope he isn't alone when he comes up to find it."

"But he's family," Draco continued. "You stick with family."

"He's certainly going to be in a sticky situation after this," Fred assured Draco.

"Even if he is alone when he comes up, he's bound to shout," Harry said. "Go on, Fred, stand under the bed."

Fred moved to stand under the four-poster bed that was now thoroughly stuck, upside-down, to the ceiling.

Sticking the knicknacks to the top of the dresser had been child's play, and even sticking the trunk and the dresser to the ceiling of Percy's dormitory room had been very little trouble, given Padma's inherent talent for it. It was hardly the work of a moment to turn the posters over the bed upside-down as well. The tricky bit had been getting the bed curtains to hang the right way and the linens to stick, but that was why they'd enlisted Fred's help. Padma snapped another picture of the three boys under the bed.

Through the open doorway they could hear George distracting the rest of the sixth-years whose dorm this was; they were feeding fireworks to Padma's salamander, Elmo, who had apparently developed a taste for them after getting loose and eating half the stash of Guy Fawkes pyrotechnics a Muggle-born Ravenclaw had smuggled into Hogwarts. A sharp whistle rose to their ears, and the pranksters hustled out, Fred bolting for his own dorm while Harry, Padma, and Draco slipped down a flight and pulled on Harry's invisibility cloak. The whistle, coming from a Shrieker firework, was to be fed to Elmo as a signal that Percy had returned from his distraction.

The distraction itself happened to be Neville, leading Percy on a wild chase through the school after Completely Headless Nick, who was "having difficulty" locating his head -- I'd lose my head if it weren't attached took on a whole new meaning amongst ghosts. Nick was happy to do it; they all knew he owed his gleefully headless state to the four of them.

They didn't dare stay to hear Percy's reaction, though Neville was planning on witnessing it; having been with Percy the entire time, he had the perfect alibi. They were going to meet Neville afterwards by the stairs to make sure everything had gone according to plan; it was just past the nook in which Nick's head had been hidden.

"You'll be Head Boy if you keep up the way you've begun," Nick had told Neville when he was hiding it (which didn't amuse anyone).

"It was brilliant," Harry said, throwing off his cloak. Padma was busy checking her camera to make sure it hadn't been damaged in their rush for the stairs. "I'm glad we got Fred and George to go along with it."

"I hope Elmo's all right," Padma answered.

"He looked like he was enjoying himself," Draco reassured her. "Neville should be -- "

"Oh Merlin's toes!" Neville said, puffing a little as he arrived to meet them, Elmo's large glass jar tucked carefully under one arm. He was red-faced, not from exertion, but from laughter. "You should have left the camera with me, Harry. I've never seen anyone so horrified. He tried to open one of his -- " he burst into a fresh fit of laughter, and had to lean against a wall for support. "He tried to -- "

"For heaven's sake, Neville!" Padma said, and Harry noticed that she really did look worried as she snatched the jar back from him and busied herself inspecting Elmo to make sure the fireworks hadn't done him any harm.

"He opened one of the drawers and all his socks and pants fell out all over his head," Neville blurted. "I've never laughed so hard in all my life! Fred and George were just standing there, poker-faced..."

Draco chuckled, Harry's cloak still hanging over his arm, and peered at Elmo, who was snorting the occasional puff of smoke.

"So what are we going to do now?" he asked.

"Now?" Neville inquired.

"Well, it's Hallowe'en, there must be loads of stuff we can do," Harry said, nodding at Draco. "We could -- "

...rip...tear...kill...

"Harry?" Padma asked, as Harry turned sharply to the left, the direction the noise had come from. There it was again, and Snake was back in the dormitory --

...come to me and let me kill you...

"Harry!" Neville cried, as Harry stumbled against the wall, almost overpowered by the deep, commanding snake-voice. He'd known all sorts of snakes, small and large, smart and stupid, but nothing like this primal, dark voice.

"Shut up," he said to the others, urgently, and they fell silent. Padma put a concerned hand on his arm.

So hungry, and alone so long...come to me...free me...

"He's sick," Draco whispered to Neville. "We need to take him to the infirmary -- "

"I'm not sick," Harry said. He stumbled forward a few paces, then a few more.

Someone screamed.

The four of them took off running in the direction of the sound, the direction Harry had been stumbling in the first place. Down a flight of stairs, then another; a second scream led them on until they stumbled to a stop, near the bottom of the stairs.

Little Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the Weasley family, was standing on the landing of the central staircase, where it split and went off in two separate directions one storey up from the Great Hall. Pale under the freckles, she glanced at them and pointed at the wall, where large red letters had been painted.

"The Chamber will be opened -- the Heir has come," Neville read. "Urk, is that -- "

"Don't touch it!" Padma said, looking ashen. Draco clung to Harry's arm.

"Ginny, come away," Harry said. Ginny was still staring. "Neville -- "

Neville put his hands on her shoulders; she gasped, startled, but allowed herself to be guided back to where the others stood, burying her face in Neville's shoulder.

People began to arrive then, running up or down the stairs or gathering on the floor below. Snape arrived first, barefoot; McGonagall came shortly after in a crowd of students, a housecoat thrown on over her clothes instead of her Teachers' robes and tartan slippers on her feet.

Someone in the back of the crowd shouted "Mudbloods had better look out!"

Snape whirled on the crowd, eyes blazing, and several of the children at the front drew back.

"Prefects," McGonagall called, putting a hand on Snape's arm to calm him.

"Here, Professor!" Penelope Clearwater replied. She and Percy were standing together, looking stunned; Ginny bolted from Neville to Percy, nearly knocking the wiry Prefect over.

"What's all the -- Merlin," Tonks breathed, coming down the stairs. Dumbledore was fast on her heels. "What happened?"

Dumbledore looked at the wall, and a shadow passed over his face. "Mr Weasley, please escort the Gryffindors to their dormitory," he ordered. "Ms Clearwater will take the Ravenclaws. Hufflepuffs -- "

"Our Prefect's in the loo!" someone shouted. There was a nervous giggle.

"Tonks?" McGonagall asked, and she immediately pushed through the crowd.

"Hufflepuffs this way!" she called, her hair turning to yellow-and-black stripes.

"Professor, would you take the Slytherins, please?" Snape asked, in a low voice. McGonagall lifted an eyebrow. "I'd like to speak with a few students," he added, catching Ginny by the elbow as she moved to follow Percy to the dormitories. Harry wasn't about to go anywhere, and the others stayed with him, huddled in a little group as the rest of the students reluctantly began to leave. Dumbledore joined them.

"What's this, Severus?" he asked. "No student did this -- "

"They were here when I arrived, before the other students," Snape replied.

"Ginevra appears distraught," Dumbledore said. "Did you discover this monstrosity, my dear?" he asked.

"She was here when we got here. She saw it first...sort of..." Draco said, glancing at Harry.

"Sort of? This is not the time for engima, Mr Malfoy," Snape said sharply.

"Ginny saw it first, sir," Padma said. "We heard her scream -- "

"Where were you?"

"At the top of the stairs, outside Gryffindor," Neville said.

"Given the situation, I shan't ask why," Dumbledore assured them. "You saw no one else, Ginevra?"

Ginny gulped and shook her head.

"There were no footsteps, no voices?"

"I wasn't looking, sir," she whispered. "I was just getting my gloves -- I left them in the Great Hall -- "

"And you came down the stairs to discover this?"

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Professor Snape, if you would accompany Ms Weasley, Mr Longbottom, and Ms Patil back to their dormitories, I will ensure that Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter are delivered safely."

Snape gave him a curt nod and began shepherding the others up the stairs. Dumbledore's hand, gentle but firm, clamped on Harry's shoulder as he shot a sidelong look at Draco. They walked towards the Hufflepuff dormitory in silence, until Dumbledore spoke again.

"Give Harry back his invisibility cloak, please, Draco," he said. Draco flushed crimson and passed it over.

"Is there anything you don't find out about, sir?" he asked, daringly.

"Oh, quite a lot of things, I should think," Dumbledore answered. "In this case, however, I confess to advance knowledge of that particular cloak."

Harry looked up at him, sharply. The cloak had been delivered by Snape, last Christmas, and signed only "From a Friend"; he'd never discovered who'd given it to him, only that it was his father's. But of course Dumbledore would have known his father...

"Perhaps it was a trifle premature to give it to you so soon," Dumbledore continued, "But I suspect you've made good use of it. And here we are," he added, as they descended into the cellar. Tonks was waiting in the open portrait-doorway.

"I thought we'd left one behind," she said. "In you go, Draco. All right, Harry?"

"All right, Professor," Harry answered automatically. Dumbledore steered him back up the steps, and down the long corridor, Tonks following behind until she broke off at the stairs to go up for another look at the horrible wall.

"Thank you," Harry said, as they walked towards the stairs down to the dungeons.

"Your father would have wanted you to have it," Dumbledore answered, almost absently.

"Headmaster..." Harry began, then faltered.

"Yes?"

"Who's the Heir? What Chamber's going to be opened?"

Dumbledore was silent as they descended and began working their way through the labyrinth of underground corridors that led to Slytherin's dormitory.

"The Heir is a silly tale to frighten children with," he said, finally. "And the Chamber is little more than a legend."

"But what -- "

"Here we are," Dumbledore said, and indeed they were -- the Slytherin's entrance-portrait was just ahead. Harry gave the password and crept through, but by the time he'd glanced back over his shoulder, as the portrait-door was closing, Dumbledore was already gone.

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