Minerva McGonagall had the strong suspicion that Something was Going On.

This was not one of those usual somethings that every House-master or –mistress learned to have a sort of sixth (or sometimes seventh) sense about, like Longbottom losing his toad again, or Thomas trying to get up the stairs into the girls dormitory, or Finnegan trying to transfigure his pumpkin juice into firewhiskey. This wasn’t even a slightly larger or less ordinary something that might have been equivalent to one of the Weasley twins’ many escapades.

This was Something big.

And, as usual, it appeared to have something to do with Potter.

Minerva sighed. Sometimes she wished, for her own sake, that the boy could get into ordinary troubles like his father had done. It certainly would have been much easier on all of them. But it was not to be.

She also had the strongest suspicion that whatever It was, Albus and Severus both knew all about it. And, also as usual, neither of them had bothered to mention it to her. This was probably more Albus’s fault than Severus’s, particularly if it had to do with the problem plaguing the Wizarding World at large, and she thought it might. She couldn’t help but sigh again. After the rather tumultuous events at the end of Potter’s fifth year, she had hoped that the boy would curtail any adventures for awhile.

Then again, he wasn’t usually the one who started these Things. He just didn’t let go of them.

Minerva had decided to have a little chat with Severus about what was going on, and she had known that he probably would not be cooperative, so she had determined to strong-arm him into giving her the information if she had to, although her Gryffindor status did not preclude her possession of underhanded and devious stratagems, so she might trick it out of him after all.

She had not, however, reckoned with him being so uncooperative as to not show up to dinner at all. And yet he hadn’t. She supposed she ought to have known. Severus often seemed to know when she wanted to talk to him, and he avoided her assiduously on those occasions. She wondered idly if that was somehow left over from his school days. No matter, either way she was going to talk to him, and if he didn’t show up at breakfast this morning she would just have to go and track him down in his office.

Fortunately, she saw as she walked into the Great Hall, Severus was present for breakfast. As she made her way to her customary seat, she paused by him. “I should like to speak with you later, Severus.”

He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow for a moment, but when her expression did not change he said, “Very well. This afternoon, perhaps?”

“I have a bit of a break right after last class,” she said. He knew that, and she knew he knew it, but as long as he was willing to come to her she thought she should be accommodating.

Severus nodded.

“I’ll have tea,” she promised with a small smile as she continued on to her chair.

---

Draco Malfoy was in a pensive mood that morning. He had awakened early and, since he didn’t have anything better to do, had gone directly to the Great Hall with his books for the day. Arriving so early let him watch most of the teachers come in. Most of them were either morning people or had already fortified themselves with at least one cup of tea, but a few of them, like Sinistra, seemed to stagger just a little as they made their way to the Head Table.

He noted that McGonagall walked in with her lips compressed, and felt a brief twinge of sympathy when she stopped next to his Head of House, but apparently Snape was able to mollify her, because the stern witch passed by after a minute. Probably she wanted to know what was going on with Snape and Potter.

That was something Draco wouldn’t mind knowing himself. Earlier this year he almost would have said that Snape doted on the Boy-Who-Scarred. That was clearly not the case now, as demonstrated by yesterday’s rather…exciting…Potions class. What had changed? Draco mused on this while the other students finally began trickling, and then pouring, into the Great Hall, but he could not come up with a satisfactory answer.

Perhaps he ought to see if he could get it out of Potter? Granted, they had not parted the best of friends, but he thought that they might be on good enough terms. Didn’t Gryffindors value honesty? Potter had been a somewhat restful companion at times, and he just might be a valuable source of information. Nine tenths of the interesting things that happened here at Hogwarts connected to Potter and his set in some form or another.

He wasn’t under orders anymore, he didn’t think, but he hadn’t been ordered to give up the acquaintance all together, either. Maybe there was a chance for this to work.

--0--

It was with those thoughts in mind that Draco caught up to Harry just before the start of the last class of the day. “Granger, Potter,” he greeted the brunettes politely.

Hermione nodded.

“Malfoy,” Potter’s tone was significantly cooler, and his eyes were narrowed. Maybe this wasn’t going to work out after all.

“I was wondering, have you made plans for Saturday morning?”

“What’s it to you?” Harry asked aggressively.

“I simply wished to inquire whether our previous arrangement was still standing.” Draco allowed his voice to cool slightly, but was careful to remain inviting. His little plot definitely would not work if he were insulting.

A look of surprise flitted across Harry’s face. “I hadn’t thought about it,” he confessed.

“Well, I will be on the pitch, if you do decide to come.”

Harry nodded as Draco walked away.

Ron, who had been talking to Neville, came back at that moment. “What’d the ferret want?”

“Ron,” Hermione admonished.

“He wanted to know if I would meet him on Saturday morning.”

“You didn’t say yes?” There was a faintly horrified but resigned air about Ron as he asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Harry said.

Hermione looked at him closely, but refrained from pointing out that he hadn’t said no either. “Class is about to start,” she said mildly, which was enough to put Ron and Harry in their seats in time for Professor Lyons to begin lecturing.

---

“Severus, thank you for coming.” McGonagall looked up from the paper she had been reading and smiled at him.

“Come now, Minerva, we both know that if I hadn’t shown up you would have attempted to beard me in my den.” He smirked at her as he moved to stand behind the chair in front of her desk.

“Such florid language, Severus.” She looked at him reprovingly. “I only would have haunted your office.” They shared a small smile.

“At any rate,” he said with a shrug. “What was it you wanted?” “Why don’t you sit down, Severus, and let me pour you some tea? This is likely to be a rather lengthy conversation.”

“Ah, it’s about Potter, then,” he sneered as he seated himself.

“Actually yes.”

“You’re not even going to bother to deny it?” he asked in surprise.

“No. Why should I?” She conjured a tea set and began to pour out.

“You might have in the past,” he demurred, accepting a steaming tea cup from her.

“Well, this time I am determined not to be distracted by inconsequentials. Severus, what is going on?”

“Could you be a bit more specific, Minerva? I’m afraid that at present I have no idea what you mean.” His slight smile was disingenuous.

“If you think I’m going to be put off by a blanket denial, Severus,” she shook her head at him. “What is going on with Harry?”

“You’re his Head of House; I should think you would know more about the boy than I would.”

“Not so much a boy anymore, Severus. He’s a young man these days. And you know good and well what I’m asking you and why it is that I am asking you.” She paused with her head tilted slightly and huffed when he made no reply.

“Very well. Why is it, Severus, that despite having got on well enough for the last few months, suddenly Gryffindor is down eighty-five points after Mr. Potter has class with you?”

“The boy was impertinent and prepared his ingredients sloppily.”

“Sloppily enough to endanger anyone?”

“No,” Snape admitted grudgingly.

“Then he must have been very impertinent indeed.”

“That, he was,” Severus said emphatically.

“Oh, I’m sure. Mr. Potter has quite a mouth when he chooses to exercise it. But I am somewhat surprised that he chose to in class. He doesn’t usually behave that way unless provoked.”

“What are you implying, Minerva?”

“I would have to know something to imply anything, Severus.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Do you have specific orders to keep me in the dark?”

“Keep you in the dark about what, Minerva?”

She huffed again and leant back. “I do wish you’d stop being deliberately obtuse, Severus.” She examined him through slightly-narrowed eyes. “Well, if you won’t tell me, then I shall simply have to threaten you.”

That made him laugh. “You know, threats usually work better when you don’t warn your victim beforehand.”

“Oh I don’t know. I could transfigure you into a mouse, you know. Mrs. Norris would adore that, and I could do with a bit of a run myself.” Her grin was positively feral.

Severus blanched. “Minerva,” he began.

“Oh calm down, Severus. I wouldn’t let Mrs. Norris have you.”

“I’m less concerned about Mrs. Norris than I am about you,” he replied.

“Why thank you, Severus.”

His lips compressed.

“Harry Potter is, as you know, a fairly high-strung youth. The loss of his godfather, especially in those circumstances, will have struck him quite harshly. He does not seem to have had much trouble with that, but he did have the summer before he came back here, and he is perfectly capable of hiding his feelings.”

Severus snorted a bit there, though it was more because he felt obliged to than because he didn’t believe her.

“I know you don’t see that often, Severus, but it is true. He doesn’t usually choose to, as we all saw last year, but he can. His behavior lately suggests to me that he has not adequately dealt with all the emotional baggage that he incurred last year.” She gave him a keen glance. “I’m not asking you to coddle the boy, Severus. You wouldn’t even if I did ask you to, but I am asking you not to go out of your way to provoke him. By all means, correct him when he is at fault, I have no objection to that, but do not antagonize him.”

“Surely you would not have me believe that he is delicate or unbalanced.”

“I am sometimes surprised that he isn’t unbalanced with all the things that happen to him,” she said tartly. “But he is more delicate than he would have anyone believe, and that includes himself.”

“I think you are doing him a disservice, Minerva. Mr. Potter is more than capable of handling anything I say or do to him.”

“I did not say he wasn’t. I merely asked you to show restraint.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I will take your advice into consideration,” he said.

It was the best she was going to get out of him, and she knew it. So instead of pushing further, she simply nodded. She wasn’t any closer to knowing what was Going On, but she had at least made a beginning. And perhaps if Severus went a little easier on the boy he would be less inclined to rush into danger half-cocked.

---

Later that evening Hermione and Harry were sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was at Quidditch practice and the two remaining members of the trio were doing homework. “Are you going to go flying Saturday?” Hermione asked in a too-casual voice.

“Why would I,” Harry asked.

“I can think of any number of reasons why you might,” she replied coolly. “But I asked if you were going to.”

“I doubt it.” His answer was abrupt and he didn’t look up from his parchment.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not?” she repeated slowly.

“Why would I? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. He was just trying to get me to fall victim to Voldemort’s plot.”

“I suppose,” Hermione shrugged.

“You think he wasn’t?” Harry asked aggressively.

“I don’t think he saw it that way. You said he did it because his father told him to, right? I think to him it was just a matter of staying out of trouble.”

“Oh yeah, poor little Malfoy. What a victim.” Harry snorted.

“I didn’t say that.”

“It sounded to me like you did.”

“Maybe you weren’t listening, then.” She answered him sharply.

“You think I should go with him?” Harry asked her in a slightly calmer voice.

Hermione shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Because I wanted to know, of course.”

Harry sighed in exasperation and returned to the essay he had been ignoring. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke again. “Why do you think he asked you?”

“What?” Harry looked over at her with a long-suffering expression.

“Well?”

“I don’t know!”

She nodded and kept working, but Harry just sat there looking at her. “You do want me to go with him!” he accused her after a moment.

“When did I say that?” she asked.

“You didn’t, but—“ “Well then why would you think so?”

“Because!” he hissed. “You keep asking me all these leading questions.”

“Do I?” she grinned a little that time.

“Hermione!”

“All right, I’ll stop.”

“Thank you!”

Hermione bent over her scroll again, and Harry followed suit, however he couldn’t quite attain the degree of focus he had had before. “Okay,” he sighed dramatically. “What? Why did you ask?”

Hermione blinked up at him. “I told you, Harry, I just wanted to know.”

“Yes, but why did you want to know?”

“Well,” she said a little hesitantly. “We all talked on the train, and we had sort of decided to be, well, polite to him. We didn’t realize at the time that you two were going to call it quits this term.” She gave him a concerned look.

“So, why were you doing this?”

“Well, the others were mostly going along with it to annoy him. But, now he’s asked you to fly with him, even though the whole Slytherin campaign to befriend you is apparently over. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe he really does want to…” she trailed off with a shrug.

“Wants to what? Make friends with us?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Well, maybe not and maybe it’s just another plot. But it was sort of easier on everyone when we weren’t engaged in out and out hostilities. And we won’t know either way if you say no.”

“So you want me to go so I can spy on him.”

“That’s putting it a little strongly,” she protested.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, a little. Mostly I just think, you know, the times being what they are, maybe we should be working harder for interhouse unity.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “You realize Ron would hate it,” he pointed out.

“More than he did last term?” she asked. “Besides, why did you go last term?”

“Because Malfoy wouldn’t leave me alone?”

“The first time, maybe, but you could have said no later. Why didn’t you?”

Harry blushed a little. “I, well, it was. That is, I…”

She cut him off with a sharp wave of her quill. “You had fun, right?”

“Well...”

“It’s all right to say yes, Harry. You are still allowed to have fun.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Very mature,” she smiled. “So are you going?”

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. “You know,” he said slowly, “I just might.”

Hermione nodded with a faintly self-satisfied air. “Just don’t wait so long to tell Ron this time,” she said firmly. Harry nodded absently, turning back to his homework.