Chapter 91: Chapter - 92 : Flames of Redemption
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The necessity of being polite to people like Lucius Malfoy didn't make Harry feel any better about the prospect of the ball. He knew Sirius was right though in that they couldn't afford to annoy Melania or any of her guests.
"Merlin, I'll actually have to dance, won't I?" Harry realised in horror.
"Yep!" Sirius looked entirely too amused by the prospect. "I'm sure Daphne would just love to share a waltz with you."
Harry shuddered as he got a flashback to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. He reached out and grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky, taking a fortifying gulp before slamming it back down on the table while doing his best to ignore Sirius' laughter.
Harry tried to forget about the ball for the rest of the day. He went flying with Sirius and revelled in being able to act like himself for a change, without having to adjust his behaviour to that of an eleven year old. That freedom was short-lived, however, since Harry and Sirius were invited to dinner with the Tonks family that evening. Harry was happy to go since Ted Tonks' cooking was always delicious and he knew Sirius enjoyed spending time with his favourite cousin. He and Andromeda spent most of the evening regaling them all with increasingly embarrassing stories from each other's childhood, while Harry and Nymphadora made faces at each other across the table in a contest to make the other laugh. Nymphadora won, which lead to a friendly argument over whether using Metamorphmagus abilities should be considered cheating.
It was hardly the height of maturity, but Harry really didn't care. He liked spending time with Nymphadora, Ted and Andromeda, and was disappointed - though not surprised - to learn that none of them were invited to the ball. Melania would never welcome so-called Undesirables into her home, so Harry resigned himself to the distasteful prospect of spending the next evening surrounded by snobbish purebloods.
He wanted to make the most of the free time he had, which for Harry meant that he slept in late the next morning, only ambling downstairs around midday with his clothing rumpled and his hair still wet from a shower.
"Morning," Harry mumbled, munching on a piece of toast as he joined Sirius in the drawing room.
"Finally joined the land of the living, I see."
"It's a Sunday and the holidays," Harry defended himself.
Sirius set aside the official-looking scroll he was reading. "Well some of us had to go into work for several hours this morning."
"It's times like these that I'm glad I'm not an adult." Harry smiled happily and settled down in a comfy armchair near the window.
"Yeah, yeah." Sirius crossed his arms childishly. Harry almost expected him to stick his tongue out at him. They grinned at each other before Sirius got down to business. "Well now that you're here there's some stuff I want to discuss with you. Remus is coming over soon and I want to get things cleared up before he arrives."
"Is this about the Werewolf thing?"
Sirius nodded. "Yep. I read your notes on the Wolfsbane potion and it sounds great, really, but are you sure it'll work?"
Harry shrugged and finished off the last of his toast. "If we get Snape on board, I don't see why not. Even you have to admit he's a genius at potions."
"But how're we supposed to get him to help?"
"I thought you could talk to him."
"Oh hell no! No way am I going anywhere near that greasy dungeon bat. Why can't you do it?"
Harry crossed his arms. "It's not as if Snape's going to listen to me. I'm just a snot-nosed first year, remember? And I think he's avoiding me - he never calls on me in class anymore and he didn't even take points off when my potion exploded last week."
"That's probably because of the rumours of your Assessor abilities," Sirius told him. "Think about it. For someone as private as Snivellus…"
"Good point," Harry said. He remembered how enraged Snape had been over Harry entering his pensieve - the man no doubt hated the idea of an Assessor knowing his secrets. "All the more reason for you to talk to him, then. It won't be too hard. Just say you've found an incomplete recipe for a potion and that you desperately need his expertise. A little flattery never hurt anyone."
"It'll hurt me to give it to him," Sirius said sulkily. "And what makes you so sure he'll agree? He certainly won't be eager to do me any favours. He hates me just as much as I do him."
Harry smiled smugly. "Ah, but we have a trump card. My mum."
"Who, Evie?"
"Uh, no. Lily Potter."
They stared at each other. Harry wondered if it was a simple slip of the tongue or a moment of stupidity on Sirius' part, or if the older man had really begun believing in Harry's cover-story as Orion Black.
Sirius broke the awkward silence. "Right, Lily, of course. Sorry. Go on."
"Um, well, if we tell Snape that Lily was working on the potion while in hiding and was killed by Voldemort before completing it, then I can guarantee that Snape will set aside his grudge. At least for long enough to finish the potion." Harry leant back and waited for Sirius' response.
"I suppose that could work," Sirius said finally once he'd given up on finding a weak point in Harry's argument. "Damn it. I can't believe you want me to ask Snape for a favour!"
Harry sighed to himself. He'd had time after Snape's death to get over his hatred of the man and was mostly indifferent to the Snape in this world. Sirius, on the other hand, was anything but. "Look," Harry said. "I know you hate him, you've made that perfectly clear. But don't you think in the past you've taken it a bit too far? You set him up to be eaten by a Werewolf for Merlin's sake."
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