Thomas Evan Potter stood scowling, lightly rubbing his stomach, in front of Harry. Without warning he smiled. “You should see the look on your face right now. You were all like, ‘I’m gonna kill that mother fucker!’, and now you’re acting all pissy. You’re so mad; you won’t even talk to me. You’re using faggy letters, again.”

 

Harry gave a grunt of distaste and put his wand away. Brushing himself off, Harry straightened his ruffled clothing before grabbing his bag and giving his brother an impatient glance as if to say, “Well? Are we just going to stand here all day?”

 

With a smirk glued to his face Thomas again baited Harry. “We can’t go in yet. Not until you talk to me like a good brother should.”

 

Sighing, Harry extended a middle finger. He pulled his hand back and made a few more motions.

 

To which Thomas replied, “Much better. Let’s go I’m starving.”

 

Laughing Thomas opened the door and slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Have you decided what we’re doing after graduation? Do we tour the other European countries, or are we going to one of the colonies? You know I’ve always been partial to France after the Triwizard Tourney and the pretty little bird that came along with it? You think we’d run into her at Paris? What was her name again?”

 

Shaking his head in bemusement, Harry smiled as his brother rambled on. Thomas always had a way to get under his skin, annoy the piss out of him, and minutes later have Harry smiling and playing along.

 

One might think that Harry was bitter that he was only the brother to the Boy-Who-Lived, or that he was abused and neglected by his parents because of said brothers status, but truth be told, it wasn’t that way at all.

 

The Potters were kind, responsible, Light aligned parents. Deep down James and Lily Potter probably favored Thomas over Harry, but they never consciously slighted the boy in favor of the famous brother.

 

Thomas was almost a replica of James in attitude. Boyish and always looking for mischief, but he had knack for potions like his mother. The fact that he was naturally good at potions bothered the Potions Master, Severus Snape, to no end.

 

The two were true brothers. Thick as thieves, and always together, were Harry and Thomas. What one did the other would soon follow. Thomas had even learnt to sign alongside Harry. They had transformed Harry’s lack of vocal speech into their own familial language. They still would speak to Harry, and instead of using parchment, oftentimes a long and laborious action, Harry would respond using his hands.

 

When Harry had learned how to magic words into the air, he’d been ecstatic. To him it finally felt as if he had a voice. Conversations between friends flowed easily, as they no longer had to wait for Harry’s written response. Their friends had picked up on a few hand gestures, but Harry couldn’t blame them for not learning.

 

To Harry’s surprise though, Thomas hated the magic letters. He refused to talk to Harry until Harry consented and put up his wand to talk.

 

“The letters are too impersonal. Everyone will be able to read what you’re talking about, Harry. It won’t do us any good if we’ve pulled a prank and they see you talking about it.” Thomas reasoned, though Harry suspected it was because Thomas was jealous that he wasn’t the only one that could understand when Harry “spoke.”

 

“Hey! Come back, you’re drifting away in the clouds.” Harry heard Thomas say.

 

Looking to Thomas, Harry gave a sheepish grin and apologized.

 

“No problem. We have more than enough time to figure out where the prettiest girls are in different countries. Hey, I’ve got to go to Herbology early. Hurry up and finish so you won’t be late to your class.” Thomas spouted as he rose to leave.

 

Shooting him an irritated look, Harry moved his hands about.

 

Grinning, Thomas reached over and pinched his cheek. “Now, now Harry, what would mother say if she saw you say those words. Look at it this way; if the older brother isn’t responsible, then it’s up to the little one to pick up the slack.”

 

Slapping his hand away, Harry waved him off and looked at his plate. A look of confusion passed over his face, and he scratched his jaw.

 “When the hell did I get to the table and eat all this stuff? I guess I really was lost in thought. Wait. Thomas only leaves for class until the last minute.” 

Eyes wide, Harry glanced at his watch.

 “Shit! Where’s my bag? Damn it Thomas! Great, now McGonagall’s going to have my ass for being late and to top it all off, he took my bag! Going to have to tell Ginny Thomas likes her again. That’ll serve him right for the mess he caused this morning. Heh.” 

Grabbing an apple, Harry quickly left the table and made his way towards Transfiguration.

 

After the slight tongue lashing and disapproving looks, Harry took his seat. He didn’t really mind it. McGonagall was tough but fair. Some might have gotten angry over the treatment and argued about how they should be treated as adults and equals at this point in their education. Harry didn’t really see the point in getting angry or embarrassed.

 “She’d have dressed down anyone who had walked through her doors late and without supplies on top of it all. At least she let me come in. Who knows, maybe she has a soft spot for a Potter?” 

Borrowing paper and a quill quietly, Harry concentrated in on the lesson.

 “Just reviews for NEWTS. Thanks the stars! This close to the end and she was still having us learn different Human transfiguration spells. I’d have been proper fucked if I actually had more than the core classes to study for. I should probably thank McGonagall for the suggestion back in third year. Time turner or not, she was right when she said I should focus on the basic education. Still can’t believe the Granger girl was able to pull that off for an entire year. Too much shit could’ve happened with one of those in my hands.” 

Sighing in relief when the class let out Harry made his way to his next and last class of the day, Potions.

 

Harry loathed Potions class with his entire being. His entire career at Hogwarts had been tainted by his father’s school time nemesis, Severus Snape. While he had never been like Thomas or Lily in Potions, he had at least been adequate. But the man would harp on him for petty acts of revenge against his father. The man’s hate and desire for revenge hadn’t been slated until sixth year.

 

Unconsciously clenching his fists at the storm of emotions and memories the dungeons had brought back, Harry made his way through the halls.

 “Snape.” 

Even now, rage boiled in Harry’s stomach at the thought of the man. Passing a little alcove, Harry lost himself to the memories that specific spot held.

 

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Harry waited anxiously in the dark hallway. Footsteps echoed against the walls announcing the presence of an authority figure. A quick rustle of parchment and Thomas let out a confirmation before ducking under the cloak and out into the hall.

 

Thomas stared at the tapestry on the wall, willing his nerves under control as the footsteps ended about five meters away.

 

“Potter. That will be twenty points from Gryffindor and a week’s detention for being out at night. Come with me.” Snape sneered out.

 

Turning to the professor, Thomas adopted a smile on his face. “I’m sorry professor; I had some urgent news to talk to you about. The trip to Professor McGonagall will have to wait, I’m afraid.” Thomas retorted cheekily.

 

Scowling, Snape stalked up to the Boy-who-lived.

 

Harry struck as Snape was reaching out to Thomas. He kicked out at the back of his knees, toppling the man. In a second Harry was on him wrestling the wand away from the potions master. Slamming his wrist on the ground, Harry forced Snape to drop his wand. Jumping off Snape, he watched Thomas bind the man with a spell.

 

“What are you and your equally stupid brother doing? I’ll finally have the both of you expelled! Fools. What were you thinking when you attacked a professor?” Snape shouted.

 

A silencing spell stopped any further protestations. Using the silence, they made their way to an empty and unused room.

 

“You’ll have to forgive us professor. It was a very trying week for us both. What with the attack and all. Did you see us there? We weren’t supposed to be there to help the Order, but you know us. We can’t help but think we’re above the rules.” Thomas asked, his eyes betraying the cheery tone of voice. “Harry saw you there. Did you know that too? He saw you right after you killed a man in battle. You should really look into applying a sticking charm to your mask when you fight professor.”

 

The blood drained from Snape’s face. He struggled against the bonds and shook his head violently in denial.

 

“Oh you weren’t there? Harry was seeing things, you say? Well he does wear glasses, so we’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. We’ll just use some Veritaserum. That way we won’t have any doubts to your innocence. So, how about it?” Thomas continued in his light tone.

 

Snape’s efforts to break the magic bonds increased, and sweat began to form as his eyes darted around looking for help.

 

Producing a vial of the truth potion, Thomas tried to get the captive man to take a swig. Unable to get the man to drink, Thomas looked to Harry.

 

Nodding in understanding, Harry pulled out a matchstick as well as his wand. Transfiguring the matchstick into a metal Beaters bat in front of Snape, Harry picked it up and stood in front of the man. Intangible fury full on his face, Harry swung at Snape’s mouth

 

A sharp crack and a dribble of blood left the Potions professor missing his front set of teeth.

 

“Now we’ll try again.” Thomas commented as he tipped the bottles contents down the man’s throat.

 

Holding the man’s nose and chin up, they waited until the professor swallowed. “Stronger locking charms on your more precious potions would have been a good idea professor. Sorry we used all the Veritaserum. Only three drops is necessary, but we felt that it would be a good idea to make sure you had strong enough dosage.”

 

 “We’ve done some terrible things, Harry and I. We caught McNair awhile back. Dumb brute, if you ask me. Not really all that cunning and witty like you professor. He wouldn’t have been able to walk after we got a hold of him, even if he’d seen a healer. Take a lesson from McNair though. The truth will set you free. You won’t have to go through what he did if you do right by us.”

 

“That means we wouldn’t use Occulemency, professor.” Thomas said thumping Snape’s forehead. “I can already see you putting your defenses together, sir. I can see why you didn’t want to train us in the art. Never the less I believe it’s time we started. If you’re even half as dumb as McNair then we’ve got a long night ahead of us, sir.”

 

“Now, would you kindly tell us what happened at the attack last week?” Thomas asked.

 

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Shaking his head, Harry leaned against the corridors wall. He didn’t want to think about it. What the man had done during both wars had been atrocious and vile. But even more so, Harry didn’t want to think about it because subconsciously he would compare the acts he had committed during the war. Instead he let his thoughts drift to the morning after they tortured Professor Snape.

 

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Shortly after the interrogation, they made their way to Dumbledore’s office. They offered the previous night’s occurrences of what they had learned to the wizened Headmaster.

 

Taking their memories and watching them in his pensieve, Dumbledore came out grey and weary.

 

“It saddens me to think that I have failed Severus, and you boys so greatly. I truly thought he had changed. Take me to see him. I must deal with this matter, myself.” Dumbledore tiredly spoke.

 

“That won’t be necessary Headmaster.” Thomas replied.

 

“What do you mean Thomas. Where is Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

 

A thump at his desk and Dumbledore turned his gaze to the other Potter brother. His hand was resting on a round shape covered in a burlap sack.

 

A few flicks and Harry answered Dumbldore’s question in red letters.

 

“He took our father, so I took the bastards head."