Chapter 17: Spying Is Not Just For Dumbledore

The break was passing peacefully, snow covered the grounds, and decorations littered the manor. Harry felt like was being lulled into a false sense of serenity, and had to remind himself to be careful, and not let his guard down while the Dark Lord was in power. Many times his more impulsive parts wanted to tell Harold and Mary everything, but the thought was squashed back down every time he saw James; James the third year Gryffindor, not the man who died to give Harry life.

The days were spent, playing games, having snow ball fights, going sledding, and evening chess matches by the fire. Harry felt as if he was living the perfect life on the surface, but underneath it all he was struggling with the loneliness.

Often, longing entered his heart with such an ache that he had to shut his eyes to block out the pain. This would be his first Christmas without his three best friends since his second year, and he knew that it would be the first of many. Even if he managed to live through to their births or even to their second and third years at Hogwarts, he wouldn't be able to experience Christmas as he had. He wouldn't open the slightly lumpy package to find a Weasley Jumper with a can of fudge. He wouldn't even get quidditch materials from his best mate.

Out of all of the Potters, Harold seemed to pick up on Harry's slightly melancholy mood the most.

Harold's mood seemed to reflect his own. Outwardly he was lively and cheerful, even joining in a snowball fight with the two boys, yet his eyes displayed another story.

In his eyes, Harry found sadness, compassion, and understanding on those rare moments when he would freeze, thinking about his past friends. The understanding shown affirmed to Harry that this would not be Harold's first Christmas without someone special near and dear to him either.

While Harry regretted not having his friends here he couldn't help but be grateful at the special opportunity that this was. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would be sitting here, sharing Christmas with his father and grandparents. Even after six months the feeling was still surreal.

He was beyond lucky…many of his past friends would have jumped at this chance, to spend just one more day with those gone. Harry was glad that James remained oblivious to his inner turmoil. The thirteen-year-old seemed so young and carefree…not at all how Harry had been at that age. Yet, Harry intended it to remain that way. James was just a child, and Harry wished for his father to remain that way. Logic, however, told him it just wasn't possible. The Gryffindor would have to grow up; would grow up, get married, start his own family, and perhaps die again in this war.

The Potters had set him up a small vault to use during his school years, with a weekly allowance. Apparently, Cassandra had been left a hefty inheritance, since she had not been proven dead. The vaults would not have been liquidized back into the main Potter's vault until fifty years after the will was read with no one laying claim to the money. Luckily for Harry, this meant that he would always have a good amount of money if he ever ran into trouble. Seeing as the vaults would have eventually belonged to him anyways, he didn't feel guilty for spending the money.

Against his better judgment, he even bought an advance charmed book for Lily along with a Christmas card. While he was certainly friendly with his mother, he wasn't sure it extended to a real friendship yet. Would it be out of place to send her a present? He didn't want to cause an awkward situation after all, and he rather enjoyed the older girl's company.

He had sent his presents a few days earlier with the instructions that they were not to be opened before Christmas morning. He was moderately sure that they would all wait, but knowing Sirius he had probably tried to rip into it right away. Sneakily, Harry had added a Biting Hex that would become active if anyone tired to open it before the designated time. And as James was under the Christmas tree down stairs, Harry had little to worry about it getting opened early.

Speaking of presents, a fair amount of them had accumulated the past few days under the tree as well. He had never had so many presents to his name at one time, and most certainly not at Christmas.

The Christmas tree was a twelve foot beauty. The whole family had spent the first night back decorating it. The last four decorations added were made out of light-weight silver metal.

Mary had handed Harry a small green box, tied with a silver bow. He had opened the box, conspicuously aware of the other Potters watching him.

There, laying on golden tissue paper was an ornament spelling out his name in simple but elegant script.

Smiling slightly, Harry walked up to the tree and placed it beside of James'.

He was touched. In that one moment he felt as if he belonged more than ever, and all doubts and worries about whether he belonged with them vanished. His name hanging next to James' reaffirmed his acceptance into this little family.

So this was where Harry found himself on Christmas morning, lying on his soft bed staring at the ceiling in the predawn hours; thinking about the last meeting with the headmaster. It hadn't gone quiet as planned, but Harry was confident that he would eventually find out what Malfoy was up to.

/Flashback/

Albus leaned back in his chair, "What can I help you with Harry?"

Harry lowered his head and began twiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. "Well…um, you see sir…I," he broke off and shot the headmaster a searching glance, "I, ah, well I mean…"

When he failed to continue Albus leaned forward in his chair gave the boy a searching look while he lowered his voice slightly, "My boy, you do know that you can come to me about anything, correct?"

The first year nodded, looking a bit unsure.

After a moment Harry's face hardened and he licked his lips in apparent worry. "Sir, there's something I need to discuss with you. Something I'm not sure about, but I need some advice on."

The headmaster nodded encouragingly.

"Sir, I think that someone is watching me…I know that sounds crazy, but I can't help to feel that something bad is going to happen!" Harry's voice rose at the end of the sentenced a bit in fear. "I know who it is, and sir, I think he's a Death Eater."

Albus sat up straighter, "Harry?"

Lowering his voice Harry looked down and seemed to pull in on himself, "He's after me again, I know it. But it's my family that I worry about." Then dropping his voice to a mere whisper he choked out, "I don't care what will happen to me, but what have I dragged James and his parents into? I should never have come to Hogwarts. I should never have told the aurors' my name! I should never have been found!"

The panic and despair Albus heard tugged at his heart, so he quickly went to the boy and kneeled in front of him, raising the boy's chin until they were eye to eye. Whoever the boy may be, or whatever he had experienced, he was still just a child and Albus hated to see any child in pain. Pity coursed through his veins as soon as Harry proclaimed that he should have been without a family.

"Harry, you have not done anything wrong. You are with your family and they are very grateful to have you. I promise you, you are safe here and the Potters will be fine. I will do everything in my power to ensure both."

He continued to hold the boy's gaze until Harry reluctantly nodded, looking back down, but Albus believed he detected a hint of relief before their stare broke. He slowly removed his hand and stood up, but instead of sitting behind his desk he took the chair next to the first year.

"Harry, tell me everything."

And so Harry had. Well not quite, but enough to convince Dumbledore to go digging around for Malfoy's real intentions. Harry wasn't interested in the threat Malfoy posed to him but rather the threat that Voldemort posed to the Potters. The thought that an eighteen-year-old Luicus was dangerous to him was laughable at best. But Voldemort could attack the Potters with no warning, and Harry would be stuck sitting at Hogwarts unable to help.

By the end of the meeting Harry had gleaned little other than the fact the Dumbledore firmly believed that Malfoy was not a present threat, but the headmaster promised to keep a closer eye on the seventh year anyway.

Harry's real goal for the meeting was not to get information from Dumbledore, but to nudge the headmaster into giving information to Harold. Harry was certain that it would be easier to get the desired information from his grandfather than from Albus. He hated to make his grandparents worry, but this way he could either convince Harold to tell him what was going on, or simply plant something to spy on his grandparents. The latter idea did not appeal to him, but it was better than being in the dark and easier than planting something in Dumbledore's office. Besides, if his grandparents did get in any trouble he'd be more likely to get there in time to help.

/END/

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear the door creak open and a graying head peak in. Moonlight streamed on his face, clearly showing his eyes wide opened, if not currently focused.

"Harry. Are you ok?"

The boy jumped slightly, he's eyes quickly focusing on the door.

"Uncle Harold?" Harry asked in confusion "Is something wrong?"

The older man smiled in amusement, "I asked you first."

Harry grinned slightly, "I'm fine. You?"

"Fine."

"You're up early."

"Just going down to breakfast and thought I'd see if you were still asleep." Harold easily lied. He'd actually stopped to watch the boy sleep for awhile, much as he done when James was younger.

"Care for some company?"

Harold nodded and smiled slightly.

"James not up yet?" Harry asked curiously, sure that the marauder would have been up much earlier trying to open his presents.

The older man shook his head, with a grateful look on his face, "Fortunately not. I've yet to have my coffee."

The small boy smiled slightly as he pushed back the covers, threw his legs over the side of the bed, and slipped his feet in his slippers.

Harry waited until they were both sitting at the table, with a mug in front of Harold before initiating any conversation.

"Uncle Harold, there's something I've been wishing to talk to you about." Harry waited until his grandfather nodded before continuing, "the letter I sent you. Why haven't you answered it?"

The older man sighed slightly, "Harry. I do not want you to worry. You are safe in Hogwarts…Dumbledore has seen to that, and you are also safe here. I'm sure that Lucius Malfoy's interest in you is nothing to worry about. He's probably curious since you were sorted in Slytherin."

Harry stared blankly at the man; the voice in which he had delivered reassurance was anything but reassuring.

"And if he's not? What if he's up to something more sinister? Shouldn't I at least know what he is up to so I can be on my guard?"

"Just leave it to the adults. You shouldn't have to worry about your safety; you should be enjoying your time at school. Harry, I know you hate hearing this, but you are just a child." Harold stated in a no nonsense voice.

"But am I really?" Harry muttered with his head hung. "How many adults can claim to have even lived half the life I have? I'm neither naïve nor innocent. I know what people are capable of."

The older man sighed before saying in a sad voice, "Harry…please for me, just leave it alone. I promise you if there is anything I think you need to know I will tell you. Alright?"

Unhappily Harry nodded his head. He hadn't wanted to spy on his grandfather but Harold had left him little choice. Neither Harold nor Albus planned on revealing anything useful.

Harry happily opened the presents from his friends. Each one was special to him, but the one that brought the most relief was the small charms book from Lily. Luckily, James was too wrapped up in his present from Peter to take too much notice. Just a few days ago James had expressed his first interest in the red headed third year. However, as soon as he realized what he implied the third year turned a brilliant shade of red and quickly changed the subject much to Harry's amusement. Since then James had been extra careful not to even remotely mention Lily at all, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was make James jealous of his relationship with Lily.

At Harry's present James let out a surprised whoop and exclaimed loudly.

"Merlin! Is this what I think it is?" James continued without waiting for an answer "I can't believe you found it! Sirius is going to be so jealous. We've been looking for these since first year. Do you have the other one?"

Mary looked doubtfully at the small mirror her son was holding, "Do I even want to know what that is?"

James took on an innocent façade, "Why mother, it's just a mirror."

At both of his parents obviously mocking gazes James deflated slightly, "You're not going to take them away are you?"

Harold smiled amused.

"No. But don't mistake us for idiots either." James perked up at this but adopted a sullen face when his father continued, "Now what is it really?"

"It's a two-way mirror. The magical version of a walkie-talkie, I suppose." Harry informed them with a slight grin. "And no, James, I do not have the other one. Sirius does. I also sent one to Peter and Remus."

"Thank you! Thank you!" James said with a slightly crazy grin on his face.

"Why do I have the feeling that you shouldn't be that grateful for Harry's gift?" Harold asked warily.

Suddenly Mary gasped, "Oh Harry it's beautiful! You really shouldn't have."

She held a silver necklace grasped in her hands, a single tear shaped diamond hanging on the end.

Harry smiled pleased with her expression, "Of course I should have. Every single sickle was worth the look on your face. Besides, I can never repay you and Uncle Harold."

The older women pulled the boy into a hug.

"Nonsense Harry dear. We are lucky to have you here. I can't tell you how much you mean to us."

Harold smiled slightly and nodded his agreement. James rolled his eyes in exasperation and went back to the presents.

Harry tiredly grinned at his two Slytherin friends. Regulus smiled sheepishly back, while Arct simply smirked.

"All right there Potter?"

"All right. You?"

"Not bad."

"And you, Reg?"

The black haired boy shrugged nonchalantly, "Could be better. I'm just glad to get away from Sirius."

"What'd he do?" Arct asked with a smirk.

Regulus smiled grimly back, "Nothing. More about my mother's terrible screeching when he's home. My ears will be ringing for the next week."

"Well only two more years until he's gone." Arct shrugged, opening the lid of his trunk.

Regulus arched a brow at Harry before focusing in on Arctus, "How do you figure?"

Digging through his trunk the larger boy answered, "He'll be seventeen, right?"

"I suppose so. I can't imagine him sticking around after he's legally an adult. There's no love lost between him and the family."

Harry grinned slightly, "What about that one aunt."

"Disowned, she doesn't count."

"Just like a true pureblood family." Archie nodded appreciatively, eyes still on his trunk's contents.

"Didn't ping you as the purist type" Harry said with a snort.

"Shut it Potter. You know what I meant. Didn't say I approved, just that any Pureblooded family worth their salt would disown any member for marrying a muggleborn…or worst…a muggle!"

Regulus looked uncomfortable, "Can we not talk about my family?"

"We could talk about Potter's."

"Why does it have to be mine? Besides, we always talk about me, mine and…well me!"

The other boys rolled their eyes.

"Actually I think we should talk about…"

"Ah found it!" Arct proclaimed, interrupting Regulus. Sitting back up with a small bag in his hand he closed his trunk.

"You dug through all that for a velvet bag?" Regulus asked flatly, not at all impressed.

"Yes. It's what's in the bag that I actually dug for."

"And that would be?" Harry asked in mild interest.

"These," Archie pulled out three silver quills, "they'll automatically write your notes in class and at the same time they actually keep a record of it in their memory. So if you lose your notes the quill still has them in its' memory and can rewrite them on demand. Pretty nifty, huh?"

Both boys nodded and took one.

"Never heard nor seen these before. Where'd you get them?" Harry asked curiously, Hermione would have loved one. Also right off the top of his head Harry could think of more uses than just educational for this pen.

"My Aunt Mirelle."

"Aunt Mirelle?"

"Slightly crazy old bat that lives in South Africa. You wouldn't believe how hot it was there."

"So that's where you spent Christmas? Thought you looked a bit tanner than usual."

"Wait a minute! Didn't she marry Parison's bastard son?" Reglus asked with morbid curiosity.

Both boys looked amused as Arctus frowned slightly, "I'm not answering that. Where'd you hear that from?"

"Mother."

"So you aren't worth your salt?" Harry interrupted almost laughing.

"Shut it Potter!"

"That's not the only thing mother told me, which is why we need to talk about the Potters."

Arct broke off his fake glare at Harry and looked curiously at the dark haired boy.

"Oh?"

"Yes oh. She was talking an awful lot about a certain Potter. Rather curious about him. Asked a load of questions." Regulus muttered looking down at his hands.

Harry licked his lips, "What did she want to know?"

"Anything….everything. She even asked Sirius about you" he snorted, "the first time I've heard her talk to him civilly since I was nine."

Arct and Harry waited for more.

"She didn't enquire until after the Christmas Ball."

"And that's important?" Arctus asked.

"The Malfoys were there."

"Why does it always come back to him?" Regulus groaned, throwing the back of his head against the headrest with a loud thud.

When no answer came he groaned again and rolled his head to where he was looking Harry in the eyes, "Any luck with your Uncle?"

"Unfortunately not. Apparently he doesn't think it appropriate to discuss possible Death Eater activity with an eleven-year-old." Harry replied dryly with a self-depreciating grin.

"Would you if you were in his position?" Sarcasm dripped from Arct's voice, the implied 'idiot' was clear in his tone.

Harry shrugged, not at all bothered that Harold hadn't confided in him. Of course it would have been easier on Harry's conscious but he'd find out one way or the other. His grandparents' gifts weren't just for show.

"Maybe we're just over reacting," Regulus muttered, "Malfoy could just be curious about you. Seeing if you are like your family."

"Not likely. The way my lucky runs no interest is innocent. I just don't see why he's personally interested in me. I'm only a first year."

"Recruitment maybe?" Archie asked hoarsely, "Makes sense. Who would expect a Potter? Even if one was in Slytherin it'd be unlikely they'd turn."

Both boys threw Harry speculative looks.

"Absolutely not! I would rather lick the heel of Malfoy's shoe than kiss Voldemort's robes."

Archie and Regulus glared.

"Don't say his name!" Regulus hissed out while Arct rolled his eyes before continuing, "Besides, I didn't say that you would join, just that you would be a good catch. You are from a respected Light family…one known for their tolerance and power. If you joined then it would cause people to rethink their position. After all, if a Potter joined then maybe they are missing something."

Harry was appalled but grimly agreed with his friends, "but I'm just an eleven-year-old boy, it's not like I'm Dumbledore. Why would adults even care what I choose?

"You won't be eleven forever."

"Or a kid."

"I know that but it'll never happen." Harry said firmly.

"True, but you have to admit it makes sense." Arct pointed out with a slight shrug.

"I know and that's what makes me so unhappy about it."

Regulus rolled his eyes, "With Malfoy watching, I wouldn't be either."

"Here, here."

Weeks passed since school had started up again and Harry and his friends were soon swept up in schoolwork and classes to be overly worried about the watchful Head boy. Malfoy had yet to approach them and seemed content to continue his vigil from afar.

A few days after the welcoming feast, Snape cornered Harry in the library and they shared a short, awkward conversation about potions. More conversations followed every so often and soon they were debating the merits of potion ingredients and the proper brewing techniques. While Harry wasn't a potions master, he still had more knowledge than the third year Snape (the Prince book had seen to that) but his knowledge was also expanding from this discussions.

Not wanting to be shown up by Snape, Harry actively applied himself to advanced potions studies, always keeping a few steps ahead of the other boy. After all, a little bit of healthy competition would help both of them in the long run, and it had nothing to do with Harry's pride.

These meetings at first confused Harry until he realized the real reason Snape was making such an effort; Lily had told him to play nice, and played nice he did. This amused the first year to no end, of course if he'd asked the surly third year he would have profusely denied it. While it was subtle, it was obvious to Harry that Snape did indeed like Lily, just as James did; something that had been bothering the eleven-year-old.

There was once a time in his life that Harry had despised, loathed, and hated Snape, but that time was long gone and past. In its' place was a grudging respect that the spy had earned with his efforts in the war. As time passed, even in the past Snape was changing Harry's opinion of him. While Harry had respected the future Snape, he had never really understood him. Slowly, this Snape was filling in the gaps of the missing puzzle pieces and Harry just couldn't bring himself to dislike the older boy.

Of course Regulus and Arctus thought that Harry was completely crazy for associating with Snape, let along doing it alone in some dark corner of the library. Neither first year had forgotten what had happened in the bathroom on Halloween, but neither did anything besides glare protectively whenever the third year was around.

On a more somber if not amusing note, James had finally worked up the nerve to ask Lily to Hogsmeade, which she flatly refused, much to James anger and embarrassment. In turn he had turned her hair green, stormed away and asked a fourth year to prove that he could get any girl he wanted.

Harry heard all this and much more in excruciating detail as Lily complained quietly to him during one of their study sessions, something the older girl had not done in quite some time. When he assured her that James would eventual grow up, she simply snorted in disbelief causing him to smile slightly.

However, as the end of January drew to an end Harry couldn't shake his uneasy feeling that something was about to happen. Well, he knew that something was about to happen if history was to repeat itself but he was sure that wasn't causing his feelings of unease.

Even more disquieting was the fact that he had learned nothing from value by his spying on his grandparents.

He had a small blue journal that automatically transcribed every single word of a conversation if certain key words were mentioned. The journal was tied both to Mary's necklace and Harold's watch chain that they had received for Christmas. Unfortunately, the Potters had not discussed anything of apparent value, but Harry was holding out hope of reading an Order meeting, as Voldemort's next attack was to happen soon.

With mounting dread Harry sent off another warning note to Dumbledore in the same way as the last time, a few days before the attack. He only hoped that the results would be better than the last time.