Mistress Cavy would like to warn our readers that this story contains manipulative!Dumbledore, abused!Harry, alive!Sirius, and an author that has no idea how to use exclamation points.

Miss Auraleek thought this chapter was #funny, #spanky, #crazydumbledore #severitus # # #whythehellareweusingsomanyhashtags?!

Mistress Cavy wonders when the pound sign changed its name to Hashtag and why everyone is okay with it?

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Grimmancing, Sirius Black pushed open the door to his ancestral home, "Right," he addressed Harry. "So this place was an utter nightmare in our dimension, so I can't imagine what kind of wonderland-style freak show is going on h - What the hell is going on?!" gasped Sirius as his eyes fell upon a sight stranger than any he'd been expecting, and he hadn't ruled out a hostile alien take-over.

Harry peered around his godfather, who seemed to be frozen to the front steps in shock. "It looks like a normal living room."

"Why does it look like a normal living room?!" Sirius' voice was several octaves higher than normal. Oddly enough, the sheer normalness of this dimension's 12 Grimmauld Place seemed to unnerve him unlike anything he'd seen so far.

"I don't know," said Harry hesitantly. "Hermione and Snape said they hold the Order meetings here, so it must be habitable . . ." he trailed off at the look Sirius gave him.

"They held the meetings at this blasted house where we come from, too and I would barely describe the place as 'habitable'."

"True," Harry allowed. "But remember St. Mungo's? That was pretty weird, too, but it wasn't bad."

Smiling slightly, Sirius thought back to earlier in the evening, when they'd apparated straight to London from outside the cave in order to relieve themselves of a certain love-sick headmaster.

"Hellooooo! We'd like to order a rubber room for one!" cried Sirius cheerfully through the ward.

Sirius was in a good mood. Not only did he just destroy a piece of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Straight's soul, but for the first time in fourteen years he had just been outside. In public. As a human. No one had started screaming, or throwing hexes at him. No one even seemed to care that he had Albus Dumbledore bound, gagged, and levitating in front of him towards St. Mungo's, being carelessly bumped into every trashcan they passed. In fact, a few people had given him knowing nods and sad smiles, as though they'd always known this day was coming.

"Good evening!" cried an equally cheerful voice as it's owner bustled up to the admissions counter. "Oh, dear. Is this another for Potion and Plant Poisonings?"

"More like a 5150," Harry muttered while Sirius nodded happily. Harry tore his eyes away from pathetic, struggling figure of the man he once respected as the healer tapped her wand to Sirius', transferring the levitation spell to her power. "Madam Pomphrey?!" gasped Harry as he met her eyes.

The plump, middle-aged woman smiled at him, "That's me, dear. Oh, you look like you're from Hogwarts. You must know my cousin, Pomphrey."

"I thought you looked familiar . . ." commented Sirius.

"Your Madam Pomphrey's cousin? You - you look just like her," Harry was rather taken aback.

She looked slightly put out. "Not just like her. Us Pomphrey women, we have our own style," she proudly patted the blue cross stitched into her pointed hat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get this patient to my sister on the third floor."

"That was weird," said Harry.

"Harry, compared to everything else that's happened to us today, that was boring."

"Yes," Sirius allowed, "that was one of the better moments in the last dozen or so years of my life, wasn't it?" His gaze suddenly hardened, and his voice took a mildly panicked tone, "But that doesn't explain any of this!" he gestured around the dull, average living room as though he'd just stumbled into the Tardis on his way to the loo in the middle of the night.

Harry cautiously took in the large, white couch with a floral-print throw draped across the back, the elegant antique coffee table before it, and the perfectly average painting of a bowl of fruit hanging over the mantle. "It's so normal you'd think the Dursleys could live here." A horrifying thought struck him, and he gripped his godfather's arm, suddenly as paranoid as the older man, "What if the Dursleys do live here?!"

Sirius gaped at him for a moment, mind buzzing with thought after terrifying thought, "What if my mother is still alive?!"

"And living here with the Dursleys!"

"As her personal slaves-slash-interior decorators! And every evening they have fancy dress parties where they talk for hours on end about the Black family lineage and purity of blood -"

"And drills," added Harry.

"And drills," Sirius nodded absently, "while you are kept as a slave in the basement, chained to the floor pickling house-elf heads."

"Until Dudley manages to sneak away for one of our nightly trysts, 'cause hey, why not?"

"Kreacher could serve tea," chimed in an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, Kreacher could serve - aaaahhhh!" Sirius let out a scream that would make Dolores Umbridge sound masculine.

Harry and Sirius whipped around to face the speaker, but only Sirius recognised her right away. A kindly older woman had appeared in the painting above the fireplace, standing demurely behind the fruit bowl, smiling sweetly down at them.

"Mother?" gasped Sirius.

"It's been too long, sugar-pie," simpered the portrait. "Getting too old to visit your mummy?"

Harry stared at woman in the painting incredulously. Harry had to admit he'd never looked too closely at the portrait of Walburga Black, but if he pictured the pink cardigan replaced with a severe black robe it was almost certainly the same woman. Sirius seemed at a loss for words.

"Kreacher!" called the portrait in a surprisingly sweet voice. Almost suspiciously sweet. A form appeared next to the fireplace with a loud crack. The house-elf was just as wrinkled, wizened and bat-eared as Harry remembered, although he did seem considerably cleaner and stood with posture that spoke more of pride than bitterness.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Kreacher, be a dear and fetch some cookies for my beloved son and his guest," the Black matriarch addressed the elf, although she never took her calculating eyes off her newly-arrived son, a benign smile on her face and honey practically dripping from her every word. Harry shifted uncomfortably at the way she said "guest", as though he was a particularly fat pig they were considering for the Christmas ham. "You know the ones, right?" she continued, and the elf nodded even though the woman had yet to look at him. "Make sure to add plenty of sugar. Us Blacks, we like things . . . sweet."

A chill ran up Harry's spine as the Kreacher disappeared with another crack. He looked to Sirius, hopeful of direction, but the man seemed to be in shock. Sirius couldn't seem to look away from the dark, bottomless pool of sugary syrup that were his mother's eyes. Kreacher re-appeared within seconds, giving Harry no time to get his druthers. The aged house-elf held out a plate of what seemed to be Italian wedding cookies, coated with so much sugar their shape was indiscernible and the white powder driften from the plate onto the floor in drifts like a tiny snowstorm. Two cups of what Harry assumed were meant to be tea sat to the side of the platter, but so many rapidly-melting cubes of sugar floated at the surface it could have been almost anything.

To Harry's immense surprise, Sirius reached for the plate. His movements were slow and groggy, and his eyes were still locked with his long-dead mother's. Kreacher smiled widely, and Harry grabbed his godfather's wrist in panic as his fingers hovered less than an inch away from the sugar (anthrax?)-laden morsels. "We're just gonna go to bed, thanks. Been a long day," Harry addressed the portrait firmly, then wondered why he had explained himself to a painting, feeling foolish. Sirius jumped as though scalded, then shook himself like a wet dog and looked around wildly.

"Whatever you say, dear. You take care of yourselves," Mrs. Black's benign smile never left her lips. "I am just so glad I can be here to take care of my precious family, even in death. I'll be here if you ever are in need. Forever," her smile widened.

Kreacher just shrugged and began shoveling the nauseatingly-sweet cookies into his mouth as though he was the Black family's living garbage disposal, which he probably was.

"Let's get out of here," Harry muttered quickly, darting up the stairs.

Sirius was right on his heels. "What just happened?!" he hissed in shock.

"I'm not sure," Harry paused at the top of the stairs and turned to his godfather. "It was like you were hypnotised or something. You kinda freaked me out."

Sirius shuddered, "I wasn't hypnotised! I was in a state of shock!" he insisted.

Harry shrugged tiredly. "Whatever you say, mate. I'm going to bed. This has literally been the longest day I can ever remember, and yes, I'm including both Voldemort's return and the time Dudley pissed himself at school and made me switch pants with him so everyone thought I'd done it."

He turned into the first bedroom he saw, thinking it looked habitable enough, but Sirius was gripping his arm, "Harry, wait! You can't leave me alone here! Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Good night, Sirius."

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Harry woke the next morning with the distinct feeling that something was off, but he couldn't quite remember what. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he stretched, trying to recall some dream in which Albus Dumbledore had been even crazier than usual. Two things hit him. The first was that his bed was much larger than it should be. The second was that someone was sharing it with him. Memories of yesterday hit him like a truck and he held back a groan. Surely that was all a dream? "Sirius, you are a grown man so get your arse out of my bed," he grumbled. He'd really thought his godfather had been joking about that.

"I'm not Sirius. He wouldn't let me sleep with him, so I thought maybe you'd like some company, cub. Severus says you like sleeping with him . . ." pouted Harry's bedmate. Cub?

Harry shot bolt upright in bed, clutching his blankets around himself protectively, giving a strangled yell and falling out of bed with a loud thump as Remus Lupin attempted to sidle closer to him.

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" shouted Harry, feeling rather exposed on the floor in nothing but a bedsheet and his underwear.

Remus leaned over the side of the bed, and continued to pout at him, "You're not going to throw me out, too, are you?" Disturbingly enough, he was also shirtless, his belly looking oddly swollen from Harry's perspective.

"Damn right I am!" Harry replied loudly.

The pair heard footsteps crashing through the hall and Sirius Black burst into the room, bathrobe hanging haphazardly off his shoulder and waving his wand wildly. "I heard a crash! What is it?! Did my mother get y- What the hell are you still doing here?! I told you to GET OUT!"

This last outburst was directed at the topless werewolf, who finally vacated Harry's bed to face Sirius, "I got out of your bed."

"The house. I told you to get out of the house."

"Did you?" asked Remus innocently, shrugging Harry's sheets off of himself and wandering closer to Sirius.

"Oh for the love of Merlin will you put some clothes on?!" shouted Sirius, closing his eyes in revulsion at the sight of his completely nude friend.

Remus only swayed his hips seductively, making Harry dive for the bedside table where he'd stashed his pilfered bottle of anti-emetic before collapsing into bed, "Why? It's not like it's anything you haven't seen befo-"

"STOP!" Sirius smashed his palms over his ears, making sure to keep his eyes firmly closed. "Don't you DARE say it! LA LA LA LA LA!"

It was the fact that what Remus was saying was technically true that bothered him so much; he'd seen the werewolf in the buff countless times when they'd shared a dorm in school.

Harry donned his now-wrinkled robes as quickly as possible, acutely aware of the fact that his nude ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was standing in between him and the only door. "Sirius, can't we just stun him and run or something?"

Remus turned to him, looking scandalized, "You wouldn't! The healers said I can't have any spells performed on me when I'm pregnant!"

"Wait, what?" Harry did a double-take while Sirius covered his face with his hands in a kind of resigned horror.

"You didn't tell him?" Remus asked his friend, looking hurt.

There was a mild commotion of opening doors and muted voices from downstairs. Sirius straightened with an air of forced cheerfulness, "That must be the Order! The sooner we start this meeting, the sooner we can start risking life and limb for this crummy universe. Hop to it!"

Sirius grabbed Harry and began dragging him towards the door. "Hang on, Sirius," Harry began with a wicked grin, "Tell me what?" He considered this revenge against his godfather for not making sure his mental friend was squarely locked out of the house before going to sleep.

Sirius looked daggers first at Remus, then at Harry and his too-innocent smile, before dragging the boy the rest of the way out of the room and slamming the door behind them with a violent wave of his wand.

"Er, guys. I'm still in here," came Remus' voice from behind the closed door. "Hey! It's locked!"

"Thank goodness for my evil, controlling, totally bonkers parents," muttered Sirius as they descended the stairs towards the casual sounds of their guests. "The head of house can lock anyone in any room at any time. Made for some interesting time-outs when I was a kid, I'll tell you."

Sirius headed straight for the kitchen, where, judging from the sound of voices, this world also held its Order meetings. Harry trailed behind.

"Well, do make yourselves at home," said Sirius sarcastically as he entered the kitchen, staring around at the scene before him.

Tonks was at the counter, hastily trying to vanish a small pile of cereal she'd spilled. Smoke roze ominously from the counter where her wand touched it. Snape leaned casually next to the stove, sparing Sirius a brief glance that held nothing but animosity. Mad-Eye Moody was busy at the dining table practicing his carving on what appeared to be one of Sirius' wooden spoons while Mundungus Fletcher quickly returned some silverware to its drawer as the other man's magical eye fixated on him.

Minerva McGonagall occupied the head of the table, fixing the latecomer hosts with a stern glare as they entered while accepting a teacup from Hermione Granger.

Sirius sighed, turning to Harry, "I'm not sure whether to be comforted that some things never change, or annoyed that the only things this universe has in common with ours are the things that drove me the most crazy."

Harry grimaced. "At least we know what to expect here . . ." Harry trailed off as McGonagall primly poured the contents of her teacup into its saucer and proceeded to drink what appeared to be warm milk with her tongue. "I'm going to decline to comment and suggest you do the same," he added quietly while Sirius paled.

Setting down her now-empty saucer (that didn't just happen, Harry told himself), McGonagall cleared her throat and stood to signal the beginning of the meeting. Her authority here seemed as firm as in the normal time-line, because everyone stopped what they were doing and quickly gathered at the table, looking marginally more serious. Well, everyone except Mad-Eye Moody, who continued carving obliviously until Sirius ripped the spoon from his hands and stuffed it back in it's appropriate drawer, silently hoping busty wooden mermaids ladled as well as regular spoons.

"I think the first matter we need to address is the absence of the headmaster." McGonagall began, looking about the room with a menacing stare that kept the rest in line. "Due to the unfortunate and completely unforeseen side effects of consuming a potion brewed by the Dark Lord our dear Professor Dumbledore has been interned at St. Mungo's for the foreseeable future."

Harry coughed abruptly into his sleeve as he tried to choke back his laughter.

McGonagall's firm stare turned towards him, she looked at him pointedly for a moment before taking a small lap from her saucer and continuing. "It is for this reason that I will be taking the lead position in the meetings until his improbable but inevitable return."

The room briefly filled with quiet mutterings and affirmations as the order agreed. It did seem improbable that Dumbledore would ever be sane enough to live safely outside of St. Mungos, but it was inevitable that they'd release him; they always did.

"The headmaster left in my custody a recording that we believe contains clues left for young Harry to aid us in the discovering the locations of the Horcuxes." McGonagall continued with a slight nod in the direction of a very familiar record player. "I believe we should begin by listening to this record, we may be able to decipher some of the clues if we keep our heads about us."

"It's not that music is it?" Snape asked with a hint of dismay.

"It is indeed. I suggest you cover your ears if you can't resist the compulsion." McGonagall replied calmly before waving her wand a familiar record player sitting innocently on a corner table.

The music began playing and Harry immediately covered his eyes as Mundungus Fletcher launched himself across the room in a display that Harry couldn't find words to describe. It might have been called dancing, if everyone watching was as drunk as Mundungus appeared to be. He gyrated around the room in beat with the song, displaying more of his body than Harry thought anyone ever needed to see. He wasn't the only one either much to Harry's dismay. Snape had made several motions to get up and join in the gyrations but Hermione had planted herself firmly on his lap and Harry refused to watch her restrain him... it looked wrong on every level. Tonks was performing a dance he suspected was meant to be the running man, but looked more like the falling man when she tried it and Remus had somehow escaped from the upstairs bedroom and Harry fell apart trying to cover his eyes as Sirius attempted to restrain him and return him to his impromptu prison.

By the time the song was finished, almost everyone in the room was panting from exertion.

"I hope the rest of you guys got some of that," growled Sirius from the floor, where he was kneeling on remus' back, holding his hands tightly like a muggle police officer. "'Cause I was a little preoccupied."

"Er . . ." Harry stared at his lap guiltily. He'd actually been spending most of the last twenty-four hours trying to forget that horrific song. The Tonks and Mad-Eyes shrugged and shook their heads, mumbling something about their pay grade. McGonagall stared around the room with disapproval that matched Sirius'.

"Don't worry," said Hermione brightly from her perch. "I took notes!"

McGonagall gave her a small, approving smile, but Harry couldn't help but ask, "You managed to take notes? Weren't your hands a little . . . preoccupied?" He immediately regretted asking.

By way of explanation Hermione simply grabbed Snape's robed and ripped them savagely down the front with positively bookish delight. Harry tried to look away, but he was transfixed. Across his potion professor's morbidly pale chest was written, in Hermione granger's small, tidy script,

I'm a stranger to love

You break the rules and so do I

A blood oath commitment's what I'm thinking of

You wouldn't get this from any other guy

I just wanna imperius you until you love me

Gotta make you understand

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

Gonna take you to a cave

Where we can be depraved

Come on get on my swan ride

I've tried to kill you for so long

I've marked you as my equal, but

You're too shy to use it

Inside, we both know what's been prophesied

Neither can live while the other survives!

And in my heart of hearts I know it

That just means that we're meant to be!

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

Gonna make you safe and warm

You're never gonna feel forlorn

Growing up where I did

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

Even though my mum may cry

'Cause she had to say goodbye

Never gonna live a lie like she did

(Ooh, eat you up)

(Ooh, eat you up)

I could just eat, I could just eat

(Eat you up)

I just wanna drink, Just wanna drink

(Drink you in)

I've tried to kill you for so long

I've marked you as my equal, but

You're too shy to use it

Inside, we both know what's been prophesied

Neither can live while the other survives

Even if I slip you veritaserum

Don't tell me you're too young for me

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

Gonna keep it safe and sound

Locked up high above the ground

Never know she keeps a piece of my love

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

In a world where magic is might

The pure of blood come to light

In the home of the white peacock

Never gonna blow you up

Never gonna hex you down

Even gonna raise my in-laws from the dead

Gonna let you snake right in

Deep throat until we win

Gonna fill this chamber with lovin'

Snape looked down at his own chest with a rare expression of delight, "Let's see, snake right in, piece of my love, drink you in, eat you up -" he pointed to each snippet in turn, craning his neck oddly as he tried to read the verse closest to his collar bone.

Harry felt an over-whelming need to end the sight before him. He took a deep breath, preparing to delve yet again into Voldemort's depraved mind. "'Eat you up,'" He quickly interrupted with the least-nauseating line Snape had mentioned, "What do you think that means?"

Sirius scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Well, everything so far has had to do with you. Mostly, you as an infant, which is when he must have started this little collection. Maybe something to do with food?"

Harry cringed inwardly, trying not to imagine the possibilities. "Like what, a tin of baby formula?" He asked with some trepidation.

Sirius continued to look thoughtful for a moment, and then his eyes suddenly lit up, "Your old sippy cup!"

"A sippy cup?" Harry asked incredulously, while Sirius nodded his head. "I was really thinking it would be something... more extravagant or more creepy and disgusting... A sippy cup seems a little.. tame."

"It is extravagant Harry! I bought it for you, so I know just how top of the line it was back when you were a kid. It's spill proof and is keyed to your magical signature so it can't be lost!"

"Wait.. hold up.. it's keyed to my magical signature? It can't be lost?"

"Mmhmm... you lost so many pacifiers that your mum was going bonkers. I got that sippy cup for you before it even hit the market.. all you have to do is cry for it and it appears."

"Oh! I know exactly which one Harrykins!" Hermione squealed in delight.

"You don't mean.." Snape said trailing off as his his hands trailed across her breasts, "You are the brightest witch of your generation dearest."

Harry gagged and turned his back to them to take several calming swigs from his ever present flask of anti-emetic.

"You have the sippy cup?" Sirius asked hesitantly, almost afraid to come too close to the revolting scene unfolding before him but knowing he needed the cup to make the ultimate escape.

"Of course we do. When Harrykins has nightmares and starts crying it just turns right up!" Hermione said with a grin, "I wasn't sure at first what was happening but it's quite the feat of magic and it settles him down every time."

"So.. you can bring it here then?" Sirius asked with trepidation.

"Oh.. no I can't... It only comes for Harrykins. And only when he cries for it."

"You heard the girl, Harrykins. Cry for the cup," Sirius said, turning to Harry with a serious expression.

"Yeah, we're gonna put this one on the back-burner for now," said Harry firmly, "Until someone comes up with a reasonable idea. Next?" he glared around the room as though daring anyone to disagree.

"W-well," Hermione faltered, "This last verse talks about you coming to some kind of 'Chamber of Lovin' -"

"Backburner!" Harry quickly and loudly interrupted. He'd already woken up next to a naked wearwolf old enough to be his father today; he didn't think his mind could cope with discussing Lord Voldemort's Chamber of Lovin'.

"Well, everyone knows who the house of the white peacock belongs in," Mundungus surprised everyone by breaking in with that relatively sober declaration. Everyone nodded, their expressions varying from cold neutrality to, especially in Sirius' case, utter loathing.

"Er, I don't," Harry prompted them awkwardly. He was a little annoyed that even after spending five years in it, he was still vastly ignorant about the finer workings of the wizarding world.

"The Malfoys," Sirius offered grimly, and Harry quickly caught his disgusted expression. "Their family crest is a white peacock, the grandiose tits." He added the last under his breath.

"Gaining entrance to the Malfoy manor will not be easy," Snape cut in with equal grimness. "I daresay it is almost as heavily guarded and booby-trapped as the Dark Lord's secret cave."

"What, you can't just flash your Death Eater of the year medal and check out as many horcruxes and vials of essence of kicked puppy you want from the family library?" asked Sirius scathingly.

Snape planted his hands on the table and probably would have stood in anger if not for Hermione still perched precariously on her lap, now apparently finishing her latest potions essay on the professor's left abdominal oblique. Harry quickly cut in before a fight could start, "Okay, we know where it is. We'll work on the how later." Harry sighed, frustrated. He asked, almost desperately, "Is there anything else?"

Hermione paused, freshly-dipped quill dripping on Sirius' kitchen table, "This second verse, 'Growing up where I did'," Harry and Sirius tried not to watch her point to the line across Snape's sternum. "Does anyone know where You-Know-Who grew up?"

Harry's heart fell as the group at large shared confused, blank looks, until McGonagall broke in, still sipping primly from her saucer, "Tom Riddle grew up in a muggle orphanage."

Harry internally kicked himself. He'd actually learned this fact in his second year, from Tom Riddle's diary. Sirius interrupted Harry's annoyance with his shoddy memory, "Do you know where it is?"

Minerva nodded, looking thoughtful. "It was in the muggle village closest to the gave you and Mr. Potter visited yesterday. I believe it has since been abandoned."

Sirius jumped up, practically tossing Remus aside, "We were just there! I could use the apparation point Dumbledore took us to yesterday. We can have this done by lunch!"

Harry leaped from his seat, rushing to join his godfather. He was dying for something productive to do, and Sirius' enthusiasm for leaving Grimmauld Place behind was very infectious.

"Now you wait there young man!" Harry was halfway out of the room before he realized Snape was talking to him, and even then he only paused long enough to give him an incredulous look. Harry continued following Sirius to the front door where they could safely apparate.

"I'm warning you!" Snape has somehow shaken Hermione off his lap and was tailing them through the house, peppering them with sickening parental concern and dandruff. "Harrykins, your godfather is going somewhere very dangerous. You're to stay here with me and your mommy."

Harry rolled his eyes, while Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, fingers twitching towards his wand as though considering hexing Snape and being done with it. Harry was rather impressed with his godfather's self-control when he used his hand to instead throw the front door open.

"Harrykins Potter-Snape, I forbid you from leaving with Black!"

"Good thing that's not my name," Harry said with a cheeky grin as he and Sirius disappeared on the spot.

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"There's definitely traces of dark magic in there. I'd bet almost anything the horcrux is in that box," Sirius nodded towards the deceptively innocent-looking cardboard box under the decrepit old crib. The short walk to the decrepit old building that was once an orphanage had been both the easiest and least aggravating twenty minutes they had spent in this universe. Harry should have known it was too good to last.

"This looks way too easy. What d'you think will happen if we -" an angry shout cut Harry off.

"Harry Potter Snape!"

The pair turned around rather incredulously to the sight of Severus Snape climbing carefully through the rubble at end of the room. "You've got the wrong Harry," he said dismissively, turning back to their latest quandary and hoping Snape would go away and play dollhouse or whatever it was he did with Hermione if he simply ignored him.

"I know you're not my Harry," the man began brokenly. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes at Sirius. "But I'm your legal guardian and you are my responsibility while you are here!"

Sirius wasn't doing as well with the ignoring thing. "You're even worse here than where I'm from! And that's saying something!" Sirius snarled, red-faced with anger. "You leave my godson alone!"

Snape looked at Sirius sadly, "He has clearly been left alone far too much. I'm going to do what you must have lacked the strength to do all these years." Snape then reached into his robes, unsettlingly close to his groin area. He began to remove his belt and Harry wasn't sure whether he should be covering his eyes or not.

"Oh God he's stripping! Why is he stripping?!" Harry cried in horror, pulling out his anti-emetic, just in case. Sirius drew his wand with a look of revulsion.

"Harry, this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you . . ." began Snape, holding his belt up.

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange that," said Harry in confusion, sharing a look with his godfather that clearly said, 'I got nothing.'

Snape then sauntered over to a rickety old rocking chair in the corner of the room and beckoned to Harry, "Harry, I ordered you not to go horcrux hunting with Sirius Black and now you must face the consequences of your actions! Come over here and take your spanking."

Harry dropped his bottle of anti-emetic. Sirius' wand hand went limp and his mouth fell open in shock. The pair looked at each other, managing to contain themselves for one long moment before Sirius burst into laughter, Harry joining in not a second later. Sirius was quickly doubled over, tears in his eyes, Harry leaning on him for support as he clutched his ribs and attempted breathe in between bursts of hysteria. After about a minute the pair had calmed enough to look up at Snape, but the look of furious indignation on his face as he sat in the dusty old rocking chair, clutching his belt, only renewed their uncontrollable laughter. They soon found themselves on the floor, leaning against both the crib and each other for support as they howled with laughter.

"I will not be defied!" Snape growled. They could hear him stomping over to them, even if their eyes were too blurred with tears of laughter to see. "Now drop your pants and take what you earned!"

"Oh, ew! Pants - pants, too?! You're - you're even more of a pedo than I thought!" Harry managed to gasp out despite a near-constant stream of giggles.

Snape reached out to grab Harry by the scruff of the neck, but the hysterical teenager dodged by merely flopping onto his side, curled up to relieve the pain of several minutes of constant laughter. Stomping closer, Snape made another grab, but not before he accidentally kicked the cardboard box half hidden under the crib.

BANG!

Snape was thrown about thirty feet back, landing in a jumbled mess of robes. So many robes... surely his clothes weren't this easy to get swallowed in? "Harry, I will not allow you to get away with this rebellion!" he squeaked shrilly.

Harry and Sirius stopped laughing abruptly and gaped up at the tiny, greasy-haired, sallow-skinned child standing before them in a puddle of Severus Snape's robes.

"Why do I sound like this?" the child asked suddenly in confusion. "Why do I feel . . . short?"

Overcoming their shock, Sirius and Harry fell back to the ground, laughing hysterically once more. Sirius was on his hands and knees, pounding the ground, "Stop! Stop, Snivellus, I'm gonna pee!"

"This is not funny!" Snape attempted to hiss dangerously, but he only succeeded in sounding petulant and cranky.

Harry suddenly gasped, face frozen in horror. "Urgh, Sirius, he's right . . "

"You think Severus Snape is right?" laughed Sirius. "Harry, I may have to spank you myself."

Harry rolled his eyes, "No, this isn't funny. Think about it. Voldemort wanted me to find the last horcrux, so he probably left this trap for me, too. That means I have some nutter dark wizard who is not only in love with me, but wants me at around age four. Take a moment to think about that."

The grin froze on his godfather's face, "Oh," he shuddered. "Oh, Merlin, I thought our Voldemort was bad. That's just gross."

Sobered, Harry turned to the deceptively benign-looking box under the crib. "You reckon that curse was a one-off, or do you think dear Tommy has more fun surprises for the next person to touch it?"

"Harry, I am glad you are finally taking this seriously," Snape began, his prim mannerisms ruined by his childish voice and mild lisp. "Now, if you will all step away from the horcrux I think this is an appropriate time to discuss our feelings -"

"I dunno," Sirius spoke over Snape as though he wasn't there, Harry and Sirius both wordlessly agreeing to continue pretending Snape didn't exist now that he wasn't as funny. "With the last one, he had it so that you'd get the horcrux once you'd drunk his love potion-"

"Harry?" snivelled Snape, half-way through some rant about his childhood no one was listening to.

"- so maybe," Sirius continued obliviously, "now that the box has theoretically 'de-aged' you, maybe you can take whatever is inside?"

"Is anyone listening to me?!" fumed Snape.

"You got a way to test that theory?" Harry asked his godfather doubtfully.

Finally, Sirius glanced at Snape.

"Remembered I was here, Black? Now, if you will only cease these interruptions, I was trying to get my son to open up about his alcoholic - unhand me!" squeaked Snape as Sirius grabbed him by the upper arm and proceeded to drag him back towards the crib.

"We got some grade-A guinea pig material here," said Sirius in response to Harry, who glared at his godfather reproachfully.

"We can't use him as a guinea pig, Sirius. I mean, he is kinda a pedo, but I think he was only trying to help in some weird way. Plus, we can't experiment on a little kid," Harry pointed out.

"But, he's the one who got the curse," Sirius blundered on, ignoring Snape's ongoing noises of protests. "I'm not sure if you saw this, Harry, but after Dumbledore drank that love potion the inferi didn't kill him. They were just holding him down and braiding his hair."

"That was a visual I did not need," declared Harry.

"My point is," continued Sirius in annoyance, "that these curses are probably designed to give the horcrux to whoever got blasted with them." Sirius' tone suddenly turned childish, "So, please can we use Snivellus? Please, please, please?"

"Trying to turn my own son against -" Snape began to sneer incredulously, but he was cut off when Harry answered.

"All right."

"What?!" squeaked the tiny potions master.

Sirius grinned evilly, "You heard him, daddy Sevi. What's wrong? Not willing to do a little horcrux-hunting for your favorite son?"

"Hurry up, Professor," said Harry. " 'Cause we all know this spanking needs to happen, and right now you're the most appropriately-sized recipient."

Severus grumbled while Harry and Sirius snickered. "Harry," he finally said, apparently trying to sound firm but instead sounding like he was demanding a candy, "we are going home this instant! We are going to find your mommy, who is worried SICK about you, and I am going to brew up a reversal potion and you will face the consequences of your - don't touch that!"

Harry smirked, hand hovering barely an inch away from the horcrux-infested box, "I'm not touching it, I'm not touching it . . ." Sirius roared with laughter, and Harry suddenly realized why his father and Sirius tormented Snape in school; it was bloody fun. Wistfully, Harry thought that potions could become his favorite class if he had Sirius there to have a laugh with him.

"Do you have any idea what dangers you are toying with?!"

"Well," began Harry sadly, "someone has to do it, and since no one else is... well... the burden of being the Boy-Who-Lived and all. It's just, you know, a lot of pressure, and I'm so scared." Harry did his best to turn his stifled laughter into a quivering lip.

"No! Harry, you are my son, and you never have to be alone in anything again!" gasped Snape passionately, jumping forward and grabbing on to the front of Harry's robes. Sirius doubled over in silent laughter as Harry looked down on the small child with revulsion.

"Sure, whatever," Harry choked out, glaring at Sirius. "Are you gonna prove it by grabbing me that horcrux or not?"

Snape threw himself to his knees in an unnecessarily dramatic show of support, reaching boldly under the crib and pulling out the box. Harry and Sirius shared a relieved grin as Snape triumphantly held the box aloft, apparently unharmed.

"You see, Harry, you can rely on the adults in your - Black!" his emotional appeal ended in an indignant squeak as Sirius calmy plucked the box out of his hand, brushing the tiny potions master aside.

Quickly reverting back to ignoring Severus, Sirius opened the box and rummaged through its meagre contents.

"Look familiar Harry? It's your baby blanket." Sirius asked as he tossed a pink rag towards Harry.

Harry caught it with a laugh before a serious expression settled on his face.

"This is really my baby blanket?" Harry asked holding up the offending rag. "It's pink with roses and it has the wrong initials."

"Oh, Harry," Snape began blathering, "I remember the day you were born . . . you were so precious to m-"

"Silencio," Sirius silenced the child with a wave of his wand. "Well... you know your Mum went to those muggle doctors?"

"I do recall you mentioning it, but what does it have to do with this?" Harry bit out, waving the pink blanket wildly. Snape mouthed exaggeratedly at them, as though expecting them to lip-read his latest rant.

"Those muggle doctors you know... they were convinced you were a girl, your mum told everyone about 'little Harriet'- "

'Little Harriet?!"

"Calm down Harry. It's not all that bad, they got is sorted out right quick. You were only wearing pink the first month or two. And the prophet printed that correction in what.. four months? That's pretty fast," Sirius consoled, while Snape gave up all pretenses of civilized behavior and began stomping his feet, red-faced and working up a tantrum to befit his new age.

"Wait... printed a correction?"

"Right... that's not really important."

"I think it is Sirius!"

"Well.. the birth announcement was a bit wrong at first. Your dad wanted to surprise your mum, so they he had it put out as soon as your mum went into labor, bit early I guess because seven hours later you were Harry James instead of Harriet Rose."

"I wonder if that happened to this Harry too?"

"I wonder... come to think of it... isn't "Harriettti" one of Snivellus' little pet names for the other Harry? You don't suppose the other Harry really was a Harriet?" Sirius glanced curiously at Snape, but immediately lost any temptation to remove his silencing charm when he saw that the man-child was now on the ground, pounding the floor with fists and feet in a full-blown temper tantrum.

"I don't know... that creepy little nursery they keep the other me in had a lot of blue."

"Maybe Harriet was a little of both?" Sirius said with a wicked grin.

"Sirius!" Harry screamed in outrage.

His godfather only laughed, so Harry gave up, turning his annoyance to the abomination in his hands instead. Just holding it gave him an odd, unsettling feeling. Like the feeling you get when you're alone in the woods and you think you hear a bear, except you've spent too much time on your cousin's computer and you're pretty sure it can only be Pedo Bear. Scratch that. No one gets feelings like that unless they're holding one of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes. "Can I destroy this one?" he asked. "Somehow I really feel I've earned the right."

Sirius scratched his chin doubtfully, "Hmm, I've always dreamed of the day I'd teach you dangerous and wildly inappropriate spells behind your parent's backs, but the only spell I know of that can destroy a horcrux is fiendfyre and it's almost as illegal as an Unforgivable . . ."

Harry raised his eyebrows while Snape abruptly finished his tantrum and leaped up to glare disapprovingly at Sirius. "Didn't you use it just yesterday?" asked Harry incredulously.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, "Er, yes, but we were about to be eaten by inferi and it was a contained environment and damnit I spent twelve years in prison for nothing so I deserve to break a few laws!"

Harry raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay. Is there any other way to destroy it?"

Snape began an odd series of movements involving severe scowls, stamping of feet and, eventually, waving of arms in an attempt to get their attention. He was ignored.

"There aren't many," began Sirius. "Some magical creatures can destroy them, like basilisks and maybe dragons, and I've heard there are a couple muggle compounds that will do it, like hydrochloric acid and the sound of Justin Bieber rapping, but I'm not sure anyone's tested that."

Sirius made an irritated noise as Snape began tugging at his sleeve, and relented, "Oh, fine! Finite incantum!"

Severus stepped, straightening his over-sized robes with as much dignity as he could muster, "I have enough basilisk venom in my personal stores to destroy any horcrux you may find. I will also inform you that if you ever expose my son to fiendfyre or attempt to teach him anything so dangerous again I will be force-feeding you enough venom to fell the Dark Lord himself."

"I'm terrified," Sirius informed him sarcastically, tossing Snape the horcrux. "But it's good to see you're finally making yourself useful."

"Let's get out of here," said Harry. "There are few things I'm looking forward to more than the look on Hermione Granger's face when she finds out Snape is now a four-year-old."