A New Place to Stay Chapter 54 - Harry Potter

The fallout from Hogsmeade hits everyone. Summoned to Dumbledore’s office, Severus finds Draco bruised, Harry furious, and the staff trying to prove Draco used the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta. With no testimony and a spare wand that cannot be tied to him, Dumbledore lets Draco escape Azkaban with house point losses, wand restrictions, and detentions with Snape, which Harry also earns for the vicious fight. In the dungeons, Severus tears into Draco until the boy finally breaks and admits the truth: Voldemort has his mother and has ordered him to take out Dumbledore. Bound by his word not to expose Draco, Severus turns to Harry, explaining that Draco is desperate and might be more useful as an inside ally than a doomed enemy. What follows is their first real guardian and teenager clash about obedience, danger, and Hogsmeade, ending in a raw confession from Harry that sometimes he just wants to feel normal instead of like a weapon who has to commit murder to save everyone. Detentions stand, training will get harsher, and Severus walks away wondering how he can possibly protect both his son and his godson when they are headed for the same war from opposite sides.

Transcript

**Chapter 54: Consequences**

Severus stalked the halls, his mind far from the task of scolding students. Instead, he found himself cursing his son in countless ways, though he felt little scorn for his own frustration.

Honestly, all he wanted was to take Harry over his knee and give him a sound spanking for willfully disobeying him. Deep down, he sensed that something was about to happen.

This unease was partly why he kept returning to the entrance hall every hour. As time passed and no teacher called for assistance, he began to calm down a bit.

He would never admit to overreacting, but when it came to Harry's safety, he knew he probably would always be on high alert. It was soon time for the students to return, and he relaxed marginally, though he wouldn't feel completely at ease until they were all back.

He couldn't understand why Dumbledore insisted on allowing them to go out during a time of war. It felt as if they were painting a large target on the small town.

Even more troubling was the fact that Dumbledore wasn't in attendance; no, the next outing was the one he was scheduled to attend. Minerva was a competent fighter, and he trusted she would protect Harry—or at least he hoped so.

It surprised him that she sometimes didn’t listen to him. He had always thought the Gryffindors worshiped the ground she walked on.

Flicking his wand to check the time, he nodded curtly to himself and made his way toward the Great Hall. It was time for lunch.

Upon entering, he noticed Albus wasn’t there. Strange.

What was the old fool up to now? Was he off searching for another Horcrux?

Severus had no plans related to the Ministry; he always brought it up at staff meetings to keep Minerva well-informed, ensuring she could manage the school in his absence. Taking his seat, he didn’t even glance at the other teachers.

Instead, he began filling his plate and started to eat. He watched his younger Slytherins, who were chatting animatedly among themselves—something they only did when the other students weren't around.

The younger ones liked to imitate the older students, presenting a united front, possibly like the prefects. Severus watched as ideas were being drilled into the students.

He raised an eyebrow, stifling his amusement, as Filch rushed into the hall and sprinted toward the head table. However, any humor he felt quickly evaporated when he noticed the squib heading straight for him.

A churn of concern twisted in his stomach, making him feel as though the meal he had just consumed wanted to rebel. Despite the turmoil inside, he kept his expression impassive, silently demanding answers from Filch.

It was ironic that a man without magical powers showed no fear or intimidation in his presence. They would never be friends, but Severus respected Filch's backbone.

“Severus, your presence is requested in the Headmaster’s office,” Filch panted, trying to catch his breath. He had sprinted from the Great Lake to the hall and had encountered Hagrid and Minerva, who had instructed him to fetch the wizard.

Given their serious expressions, he hadn’t complained about being a human owl this time; something significant must have happened. “Why?” Severus asked, unfazed.

“Minerva didn’t say,” Filch replied. “Very well,” Severus said, his robes swirling around him as he swiftly exited the Great Hall, choosing the main entrance instead of the staff door.

It would take him longer that way, and he rolled his eyes inwardly as the students stared at him with curiosity. But, as always, the younger students quickly lost interest and returned to their meals.

He found himself grateful for their short attention spans. It took every ounce of restraint not to run to the Headmaster’s office, but he walked at a faster pace than usual.

With all the students in the Great Hall, he didn’t have to worry too much. What could have happened?

Why was he being summoned? The only explanation that came to mind involved one of his Slytherins; Draco immediately surfaced in his thoughts, but he dismissed the notion.

Surely, the boy wouldn’t attempt anything foolish. “Blood pops,” Severus sneered as he stepped onto the moving gargoyle and waited impatiently.

As Severus turned the handle and stepped into the room, a wave of frustration washed over him. Draco Malfoy sat in one of the chairs, bloodied and bruised, yet showing no signs of remorse.

This was going to be a long day. He met Minerva’s gaze, arching an eyebrow, knowing she would soon provide all the details.

“I should get going,” Hagrid muttered, glancing around. “Can’t leave all the students by themselves.”

“Of course, thank you, Hagrid,” Minerva replied, her attention shifting from Severus for just a moment to acknowledge him.

“Severus,” Hagrid said with a nod as he made his way out of the Headmaster's office, his large frame bending to fit through the door. “What happened?” Severus asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

He clearly preferred being anywhere but here. “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Minerva said, casting an annoyed look at Draco.

“Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy won’t speak, and Mr. Potter has gone to the toilet.

He’ll be back momentarily.”

Just then, the Floo network activated, and Severus turned, expecting Dumbledore. Instead, the small figure of Flitwick emerged.

The expression on his face suggested that Severus’s day was about to drag on indefinitely. “Ah, Filius, perhaps you can shed some light on what happened here?” Minerva inquired.

“This wand was used to place the Imperius curse on Madam Rosmerta,” Filius replied, his gaze fixed on Draco with evident disgust. “It’s not my wand,” Draco protested immediately.

“Does Rosmerta remember what happened?” Minerva asked, concern etching her features. She had a good relationship with the barmaid.

“Unfortunately not,” Filius said. “If the wand isn’t yours, Mr.

Malfoy, I assume you have yours on hand to verify that?” Minerva prompted. “Yes, Professor Flitwick,” Draco murmured, his voice barely above a whisper due to the pain he was in.

He stood up slowly and removed his wand from its holster, relieved that it hadn’t been broken during Potter’s attack. However, the second wand he had was unfortunately...

The wand was now in Flitwick’s possession. He had received it from his aunt Bellatrix while she was at Malfoy Manor, teaching Draco Occlumency.

The three teachers stared at Draco, skeptical of his claims, but without any proof, they were powerless to act. Madam Rosmerta couldn’t remember who had attacked her, and the wand itself didn’t provide conclusive evidence that Draco had cast the Imperius curse.

Being underage meant they couldn’t use Veritaserum on him without Ministry approval, and they seriously doubted that approval would come. In short, they were at an impasse.

“Ah, what is going on here?” Albus asked as he stepped out of the Floo network, surprised to find three of his teachers gathered in the office. Draco Malfoy, visibly bruised and shrinking at the sight of him, seemed even more intimidated.

Just then, Harry entered the Headmaster’s office, showing no surprise at Dumbledore’s presence. He walked over to his seat, sat down, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring broodingly at the floor.

He didn’t dare to look up at Severus, fully aware of his disappointment and anger. Minerva and Filius began updating the Headmaster on the events that had unfolded and their suspicions about Draco.

Severus stood beside them, his expression impassive, though anyone who knew him well could see he was extremely frustrated. “Thank you, Filius.

I’ll take it from here,” Albus said wearily. Minerva and Severus remained behind, ready to support their students.

“What should I do with this?” Filius asked, gesturing toward the cursed box. “I suggest setting fire to it,” he replied.

“Good idea, Filius,” Albus said, granting the Ravenclaw head of house permission to handle the cursed opal necklace as he saw fit. He gazed at both students over the top of his half-moon glasses, disappointment evident in his blue eyes.

Interestingly, neither boy met his gaze; they continued to stare at the floor, with Draco squirming slightly under the weight of their circumstances. Discomfort filled the room.

Flitwick walked around his desk and sat down, allowing the silence to stretch into an almost unbearable tension. He waited for one of the students to break and finally speak.

Draco’s heart raced as if it were being pounded by a sledgehammer. He knew they would believe Potter.

He was certain he would be sent to Azkaban, and his mother would pay the price for his failure. What was he going to do?

He hoped he’d at least have a chance to warn her, to get her away from Malfoy Manor. He didn’t think for a second that Bellatrix would show mercy to her own sister.

She was ruthless, and every word that escaped her lips dripped with foulness and devotion to the Dark Lord. What if he told them the truth?

No, he couldn’t risk that. Maybe his godfather could help, but he wanted to believe that too much.

Unfortunately, his godfather was a Death Eater as well. No doubt the Dark Lord would know the moment this meeting concluded.

“Mr. Potter, care to explain why you attacked Mr.

Malfoy so grievously?” Dumbledore asked, fully aware that this would infuriate Harry. He knew the boy well enough; his anger often got the better of him.

Last year’s chaos in his office was proof of that. Draco glanced at Potter, whose blue eyes were wild with fear, silently pleading with him not to say anything.

“He put the Imperius curse on Rosmerta,” Harry said calmly. “He told her to curse Luna and get her to take the box to you.

I lost my temper and attacked him.” He ignored Draco’s desperate gaze. If it had been anyone other than his best friend, he might have kept quiet.

“Rosmerta said she doesn’t remember who cast it, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore replied.

Harry's nostrils flared as he ground his teeth in frustration, realizing what was about to happen before Dumbledore even finished speaking. He was going to let Malfoy get away with it.

Harry couldn’t believe it, but then again, when had his word ever meant anything to anyone? “I heard him doing—”

“It’s not going to work,” Harry said, his green eyes sparkling with fury.

“Without Madam Rosmerta’s testimony, there won’t be any charges.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry with disappointment. “For fighting, I think we’ll have to deduct fifty points from each of your houses.”

“Albus,” Minerva interjected, her brown eyes filled with concern over the Headmaster’s decisions.

“Mr. Malfoy, you will hand in your wand to your head of house and will only be allowed to use it during class.

You will be confined to your dorm immediately after dinner. Any violation of these rules will result in your immediate expulsion,” Dumbledore stated seriously.

He wanted to protect the boy, but keeping him within Hogwarts walls was crucial. Doing what was right wasn’t always easy, and he knew this would only push Harry further away.

“Yes, sir,” Draco replied quietly, his gaze shifting to his godfather before falling to the floor again. He needed to find a way to let his mother know what was happening.

Hopefully, he could do that before the Dark Lord learned of his failure. “Both of you will be serving detention with me until the end of the year,” Severus hissed, his black eyes flashing at them.

“Starting right now. Move.”

Harry and Draco stood up and began to leave the Headmaster’s office.

“Wand,” Severus ordered coldly. Draco winced but reluctantly removed his wand and handed it to his godfather.

With his tail metaphorically tucked between his legs, he walked out, his mind racing with thoughts of how to escape this situation. He didn’t even glance at Potter; he hadn’t looked at him much lately, especially after the furious confrontation with his godfather last summer.

Since then, life had spiraled from bad to worse. The walk toward the Potions classroom was tense, to say the least.

When they finally arrived, Severus’s first words were, “Mr. Malfoy, my office.

NOW!” The command made Draco jump, and he hurried into the office as if he were being whipped. Harry stared at the invisible implement, still reeling from the pain he felt.

It was a miracle he had made it this far. “You, Mr.

Potter, begin scrubbing the tables. You know where the cleaning supplies are,” Severus said coldly.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, not bothering to explain himself. He moved toward the cupboard, dragging out the cloths, scourers, and scrubbing brushes.

He carried them to the sink and started filling it with a tough soap that easily removed potion stains. He felt awful about what had happened, but he couldn’t regret going to Dumbledore.

It had probably saved Luna from Azkaban for killing him if the old wizard had actually opened the door. Merlin, he was furious about that.

Dumbledore had let Malfoy off for using an Unforgivable curse. ---

“Sir, I’m sorry,” Draco said as soon as Severus entered the office and closed the door.

“Enough!” Severus hissed, not wanting to hear any excuses from his Slytherin. He dug his fingers into his palms, fighting the urge to shake the boy.

The Imperius Curse? What was Draco thinking?

At sixteen years old, he was on the brink of throwing his life away, and Severus could do nothing but watch. It was tearing him apart.

“What the hell were you thinking, you idiot boy?!”

“I don’t know,” Draco whispered, the truth escaping his lips. He had acted out of sheer desperation.

Whether the Dark Lord was a half-blood or not, his mother was in danger. He needed to find a way to kill Dumbledore, all because his stupid father had been caught at the Ministry.

“Two Unforgivable curses, Draco?! Is Azkaban what you want to accomplish in your life?!” Severus hissed.

“HE’S GOT MY MOTHER!” Draco roared, standing up, his breath coming in ragged gasps as fury coursed through him. There was very little he loved enough to protect, but his mother was one of those few.

“IF I DON’T DO WHAT THEY WANT, THEY WILL KILL HER!”

“Your mother is in no immediate danger, Draco. She can look out for herself...”

“After herself,” Severus said grimly.

“Bellatrix will kill her,” Draco replied, his throat tightening at the thought. “She’s just waiting for me to fail and for the order from the Dark Lord.” It wasn’t just her invading his mind; he had breached the twisted witch's thoughts a few times as well.

He could barely believe that his aunt was related to his mother. They might share a resemblance, but that was where the similarities ended.

Each word that escaped his lips was a relief. Deep down, he must trust his godfather; otherwise, he wouldn’t even consider confiding in him.

“What have you been ordered to do?” Severus asked, curious if his godson would tell him the truth. How foolish did Draco think he was?

Severus already knew what the boy had been commanded to do, and he was reaching the end of his patience in trying to keep both him and Harry safe. Draco shook his head wildly, wincing as pain throbbed in his temples.

“I cannot help you if you do not answer,” Severus said, his eyes narrowing with frustration and growing anger. Draco’s bruised blue eyes met those of his godfather.

It was hard to believe that just a few years ago, life had been so simple. He could trust his father and his godfather; life was good.

His biggest worry had been whether he would do well enough in his exams to please his father. His mind drifted back to the times he had confided in Severus over the years.

He had never revealed anything during those moments, not even the time he had used that spell on Potter. Could he really tell his godfather now?

He felt lost; this was his last resort. “He wants me to take out Albus Dumbledore,” Draco whispered, defeated.

Severus couldn’t help but notice how Draco had avoided using the words "kill" or "murder." It was clear that Draco wasn’t capable of following through with such a task. Considering how he had cursed others to do his dirty work, it was typical of a Malfoy.

Lucius wasn’t in the Dark Lord’s good graces, and it seemed the Dark Lord wanted rid of them. Doubt lingered in Draco's mind.

If he failed, the Dark Lord would order Narcissa's death, and Draco would be dealt with swiftly, leaving Lucius a broken man, but alive. He would need to keep Lucius alive until he no longer required the use of the manor, and then he could deal with him.

Draco had always thought the sun rose out of his father's backside. Now, he wondered how Lucius felt about him, considering what his ideals had reduced their family to.

"I see," Severus said, his voice impassive. "Please don't tell him," Draco whispered desperately.

"If I agree to that, I'm going to need something in return from you, Draco," Severus replied seriously. "Anything," Draco croaked, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to face this alone.

"Very well. Send in Mr.

Potter. Both your detentions still stand.

Get cleaning," Severus instructed. "Yes, sir," Draco said quietly, barely able to keep his legs moving.

They were shaking with relief, but like any Slytherin, he regained his composure and walked out of the office with his head held high. "Professor Snape wants you," Draco told Harry, giving the teenager a wide berth.

First, Granger had punched him like a common hooligan, and now Potter? He couldn’t fight like that; it just wasn’t fair.

Harry glared at Malfoy as he passed, surprised that nobody had healed him yet, before slipping into the office. He had been taken aback when he heard Malfoy shouting; it was almost as if Severus wanted him to overhear.

While he felt a twinge of sympathy for Draco, it quickly faded, overshadowed by anger for targeting his friend. Most of his frustration was directed at Dumbledore; even scrubbing for twenty minutes hadn’t improved his mood.

“Sit down,” Severus said, flicking his wand to cast a silencing spell around the room, confirming Harry’s suspicions that Severus had wanted him to overhear their conversation. “I know what you are thinking…” Harry started.

“Indeed?” Severus replied, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I don’t regret going.

I can’t—he targeted my best friend!” Harry said defensively. “Yes, he—"

“Did you?” Severus agreed.

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your friends, isn’t that right?” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Where is this going?” he asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“He’s trying to protect his mother. While his actions are deplorable, you have to remember he’s desperate,” Severus replied.

“Fine, he’s desperate,” Harry said, still unsure of Severus’s intentions. “Bringing him in might save us a lot of hassle,” Severus continued, “and save his life, as well as his mother’s.” 

“What?

You’re going to let him kill Dumbledore?” Harry scoffed. “Of course not,” Severus said flatly.

He wasn’t surprised that his son had pieced it together; after all, Draco had been caught red-handed. No doubt everyone was aware of what Draco had been up to, and Minerva was likely still in the Headmaster’s office grilling him.

“I’m sure between us we can come up with a few ideas on how to best deal with the situation.” 

“Tell him what you want, as long as I don’t have to deal with him,” Harry said. “Harry,” Severus warned.

“Alright, what do you want me to do?” Harry asked, unable to refuse Severus, knowing how much he cared about Draco. It turned his stomach, but he would do it.

He refused to admit he was just jealous—though he certainly was. The thought of sharing his dad during the only time he had with him made him feel like a two-year-old, on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“Nothing but get back into that room and clean,” Severus instructed. “This isn’t fair; it’s not my fault,” Harry sighed, rising from his seat.

“After everything I taught you, the first thing you do is fight like a common hooligan?” Severus snapped. “But that’s not why you’re angry.

It’s because I went to Hogsmeade,” Harry said defensively. “I am angry.

I told you not to go,” Severus replied. “You defied me, and that’s that.

End of discussion.” 

Harry turned away, walking toward the door. “I thought—”

“You understood,” Harry said, his voice tinged with sadness.

Severus froze, realizing that Harry was genuinely upset. “Alright, Harry, sit down and talk to me,” Severus said softly, reverting to the man Harry was accustomed to confiding in during their time at Prince Manor.

Somewhere along the way, their communication had faltered, and that needed to change immediately. “I just want to be normal, to do normal things, to forget I’m supposed to murder someone so everyone can live their pathetic little lives,” Harry said, bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Hogsmeade is that one time—just being with friends and buying things.” Sneaking around didn’t compare to going with them and coming back together. “You value going to Hogsmeade that much?” Severus asked, surprised.

He had never found that much enjoyment in visiting the village. Perhaps that was why Harry cherished it.

Nodding in understanding, he finally grasped where Harry was coming from and why he had gone despite his earlier protests. “Yes,” Harry admitted.

“I’m sorry, I just…” he trailed off, struggling to articulate his feelings. “I understand, Harry, but you still have detention.

You aren’t getting out of it,” Severus said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Damn,” Harry muttered.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t take Zar with you today. He might have sensed how angry you were,” Severus remarked.

Harry paled at the thought. “Yes, it is,” he replied, feeling sick.

The idea of anything happening to Zar was unbearable. “Stop with the Muggle fighting, Harry,” Severus said firmly.

“Otherwise, we’ll have to step up the training.” That meant more time away from his friends, something Harry dreaded. “Well, I couldn’t use the spells I know now, could I?

Not without raising suspicion!” Harry shot back. “You paused long enough to think?” Severus asked, skepticism lacing his tone.

“No,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I thought as much.

Remember to come down after dinner,” Severus said, eager to teach Harry a few new spells. As the days passed, it became increasingly difficult.

Severus wasn't teaching Harry the Darkest Arts, just the Dark Arts—enough for him to survive and stand his ground in a confrontation with the Dark Lord. “Yes, sir,” Harry replied.

“Did you have lunch?” Severus asked as Harry stood up and headed for the door. “Yes,” Harry said, though he mostly had sweets and wasn’t about to admit it.

“Good,” Severus sighed wearily, removing the spells from the door before slumping back into his seat. Things were becoming complicated.

Despite his wishes, he knew that letting Draco in on everything wouldn’t solve their problems. How could he protect both his son and godson when they were always at odds?

One was tasked with killing Albus bloody Dumbledore—a man Severus could barely tolerate. The situation was further complicated by Dumbledore’s actions against Harry and the mess that surrounded the Horcruxes.