The closer Halloween got, the more excited Harry became. He had always enjoyed the feast and the decoration, but this year he felt especially excited because it would be his first chance in months to have as much candy and sweets as he wanted, all at one time.

Snape had been particularly rigid about his sugar intake, more than Harry thought anyone should ever be interested in how much sugar someone else ate. At the table in the Great Hall, desserts appeared at the end of the meal of supper or lunch on most days, but not too sweet or decadent. Yet, Snape frowned from the teachers' table if Harry took more than two, and after a student trip to Hogsmeade, Snape made him turn out his pockets.

In the cold dungeon, Harry had emptied his trousers pockets, placing one piece of candy on Snape's desk until the pockets were emptied.

"Happy?" he had growled at Snape.

"Hardly," the man had retorted. "Coat pockets, too."

Harry had slammed more handfuls candy down on the table.

"And underneath your sweater," Snape had continued.

The candy pile had been rather impressive after Harry had given up his every last sweet and stood glowering at his father.

"I bought the candy - you can't take it all away from me!"

Snape had let him keep a few pieces and doled out a little bit everyday, making the candy that Harry would have devoured in an afternoon last two weeks.

Worst of all, Harry found himself hungry all the time as the fall term continued. He ate two plates of everything at each meal and found himself wanting food in the late afternoon and evenings. Saturday nights he usually spent in Snape's quarters, and after watching Harry drink three cups of tea and chomp right through four biscuits, Snape decided he was starting a growth spurt.

"Good," Harry said, tipping his tea cup to get the last bit at the bottom. "Maybe I'll be as tall as you. Do we have anything else to eat? I'm famished after training."

"I'll start making you health potions," Snape replied.

Harry made a face, but the next evening when Snape handed him a mug of creamy-colored brew, he began gulping it down. Rather than the usually nasty taste, this potion was rich, sweet, and vanilla - a mix between pudding and thick cream that he could drink. Harry downed it gratefully and finally felt full.

Snape began giving him one everyday, and the flavors varied from vanilla to chocolate, caramel, and (his favorite) peppermint. Harry was not sure whether the potions actually tasted good or were just charmed for the various flavors and colors, and he really did not want to know what Snape put in the potions, so Harry kept taking them.

However, for the Halloween feast, Harry planned to go all out. For one night, he would stuff down as much candy as possible, and Snape could glare as much as he liked.

"I'll skip supper altogether," Harry decided as he reached for his pajamas in the dim light of Snape's quarters. "In fact, no food all day - just the feast."

Usually Harry got changed and into bed (the transformed sofa) which Snape charmed to be warm when he got into it. But Harry stopped short of pulling his shirt on and stood in front of the long mirror in just his pajama bottoms, looking at his bare chest.

He held his arms out to the side and then brought them down, clenching his hands in fists. He couldn't help half-grinning at the muscles on his arms. Six weeks of training, and he was starting to show the change. His chest and stomach, before pitifully thin with visible ribs, had hardened and filled out with muscles. His shoulders looked wider, and his arms now were tightening with muscle rather than looking so sticklike.

Harry turned to the side and brought his arms down again. Not bad, not bad at all. For a moment, he felt ridiculously proud of how good he was starting to look, especially with the dark hair that brushed over his low stomach and disappeared under his pajama bottoms. He looked awesome.

"Huh!" Harry tightened his arms, making the muscles bulge. "That's right, girls, Potter's here to save you."

"Are you quite done?" Snape asked from the doorway.

Harry glanced back to see Snape leaning against the doorpost, shaking his head slowly at Harry's antics.

"You're just jealous I look so good," Harry let his words sound as arrogant as possible, and he ran his fingers through his hair to give himself a careless, rakish look.

Snape yanked out his wand and shouted, "Rictusempra!"

Immediately, Harry felt like dozens of cold fingers were running up and down his bare torso, brushing lightly over his skin and then digging into every sensitive spot between his ribs.

With a shriek, he fell to the floor, clutching his hands to his chest as he twisted on the floor and howled. The ticking was unbearable, and he wailed, "Oh, stop! I can't take it. No, no, no, make it stop."

Snape calmly stepped past him while Harry continued his hysterics, beating the stone floor with one hand in attempt to keep himself from going mad at the horrid tickling. A million years later (or maybe twenty seconds) Snape ended the spell.

Harry flopped loosely on his back, wheezing as he stared up with tearing eyes. "Bastard," he said in a low voice though he couldn't help giggling a little. Trust Snape to devise such a fiendish rebuttal.

"I'm sorry," Snape settled down in his armchair and looked at the teenager still on the floor, "did you ask for a second go? Ah, Harry, never satisfied with just one taste. Well, anything for you."

Snape pointed his wand, and Harry scrambled to his feet.

"No, no, don't! I can't take that spell. It should be one of the Unforgivable Curses," Harry grabbed his pajama top and pulled it on, just in case Snape should chance another hit at his bare skin.

"I believe it was created to brighten up glum little children," Snape rolled his wand between his fingers before tucking it away.

"As a threat to make them cheer up?" Harry said doubtfully as he sat on his bed. The covers below felt warm and cozy, and he pulled his bare feet under him to get warm.

"Possibly," Snape shrugged. "Well, I'll let you get to sleep."

He made a motion to get up, and Harry protested,

"No, I'm not tired yet. What are we doing tomorrow?"

"I'm grading essays. I have no idea what you are doing, but if you want to stay here, it has to be something quiet."

"I'm ready for Halloween," Harry said, wondering how long he could keep Snape in the room, talking. It was after midnight, but Harry found that if he could distract the man long enough, Snape would stay and talk to him for a while until Harry was yawning his head off, and then Snape blew out the candles and went to his own room.

"Halloween?" Snape leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the worn footstool. "No candy for you."

"You must be joking," Harry observed, almost scornfully. "You can't stop me from eating at the feast."

"No, but I could give you a potion before you go that would make you unable to look at the sweets, much less taste them."

"Now, you're just being cruel."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement, then conceded, "Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaining the next morning."

"Why don't you enjoy the feast for once?" Harry asked. "Or at least let me bring you back something good?"

"I won't be there," Snape replied. "I have an errand I have to run."

"On Halloween?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, and I can't say anymore about it so please do not ask."

"I'll save you some candy then," Harry tucked his feet under even tighter.

"That's all?" Snape looked amazed. "No tantrum, no demanding to know where I'm going, no blowing up my quarters?"

"I've changed, too," Harry felt rather smug. "I know you won't tell me and I don't want to get in trouble so just tell me you'll be back safely.

"I'll be back safely," Snap assured him.

"If you don't, I come looking for you and I'll bring the whole DA with me," Harry threatened.

Snape smiled for a moment.

------

The feast itself was incredible as always, the house elves trying to do better than last year. Every kind of dessert, sweet, and goodie Harry could imagine was heaped in piles on the table. He was ravenous after his daylong fast. Well, he had eaten a small muffin for lunch and drank a cup or two of water, but he felt as if he had not eaten in weeks as he sat down to the table.

Ron was already there with Hermione, and they were whispering about something as Harry took his seat. He was about to ask them what they were discussing, but then Dumbledore stood up and made his speech. The food appeared, and Harry forgot about everything except his hunger.

It was probably a good thing that Snape was not there to see him make a complete pig of himself as Harry ignored table etiquette and basic human manners in his attempt to grab all the food he could.

"Slow down," Hermione admonished, but Harry paid her no mind.

He could not remember exactly all he ate, but he felt certain Snape would be planning strict lessons in restraint and manners had he been there to see Harry's gorging.

An hour later, Harry's ears were ringing slightly from all the sugar as he stood up and stumbled towards the door, his hands clutching the last bits of treats.

"What was that?" Hermione demanded, falling into stride beside him. "You're never acted like that before."

"Last time I'll see sweets until Christmas," Harry muttered. He made it as far as the stairs and fell on the second one to consume the last of his candy and iced cupcake. "Snape has a thing about no sugar. He made me give him everything from Hogsmeade."

"Blmey," Ron shook his head. "Rather unfair, that one. Mum's the only who cares about what we eat, and she knows it's a losing battle since we just sneak goodies when she's not looking."

"He just wants you to be healthy and not rot your teeth out," Hermione reproved with a side glance at Ron. "My parents insist I take good care of my teeth so I try to limit my sugar intact."

"Didn't you get your teeth shrunk a year ago or so?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

Hermione tightened her mouth prissily, and Ron defended her,

"She can shrink her teeth all she likes."  

"Sure she can," Harry agreed as he leaned back and put his elbows on the step behind him. "Talk to me so I don't fall asleep after all that. What we you talking about during the feast?"

"Oh, about the holidays," Hermione said eagerly, suddenly excited. "We're all going home for Christmas since you finally have - you know . . ."

"Someone to spend it with?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Right," Ron nodded even though Hermione's cheeks pinked for a second.

"Well, you do now, and we thought you would want to spend time with him," Hermione chose her words very carefully. "But Ron and I were thinking we could persuade our parents to let us spend New Years in Diagon Alley together. They're going to have fireworks and specials on everything and everyone's coming. We though we could meet there on the 29th or 30th, all share rooms, and spend the New Years together in London!"

It was the most brilliant idea Harry had ever heard, and even stuffed with more sugar than one teenage wizard should be able to handle, he wanted to go more than he had wanted to do anything in long time.

"She wants to ask Draco and Worty if they can come, too," Ron frowned, but he did not look too upset. "Why it can't be just the three of us - but no, we have to have the Slytherins along, too."

"We were going to ask Neville, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, and your brothers as well," Hermione shot back.

"Still," Ron refused to give up, "it's Draco. Well, anyway, what say you, Harry? Ready for a wild New Years with your mates?"

"Absolutely," Harry grinned broadly. "It will be smashing. I'm definitely in."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Harry stared at her blankly.

"Snape?"

"Oh, he'll be fine with it."

Hermione glanced at Ron and then reminded Harry, "Well, really, we all have to go get permission. We can't stay in Diagon Alley at the inn without some kind of parental supervision because we're all still underage."

"I'm not asking Snape to chaperon," Harry decided. "No way he'll ever -"

"No, my parents will probably chaperon," Ron said ruefully. "I think we could get on all right, but she," a traitorous look at Hermione, "says we have to have a ‘grown-up'!"

"We do," Hermione insisted. "But Harry, you have to ask Snape before we start making plans. Otherwise, we can't get a final count for beds and rooms and that sort of stuff."

"He'll be fine," Harry assured her, but even as he said the words, doubt began to crowd his mind. Somehow he managed to get off the steps and waddle away, thinking next year he might try easing off the sugar a bit.

He spent the night in Snape's quarters, hoping they could talk when Snape got back, but when the man had not appeared by one, Harry gave up and went to sleep. He felt mildly worried that Snape was in danger, but Harry forced himself to close his eyes and stop worrying. Snape could take care of himself, and Harry wanted him in a good mood for the next morning.

-------

"It's not fair," Harry said flatly. "Not at all fair."

No reply.

"You're just doing this to make me miserable," he shot the words out, waiting for a reaction.

Again no reply.

"I'll run away," he threatened. "You'll never see me again."

Snape made no reply, just turned the page of the book with a serenity that made Harry twice as upset.

"I'll break something," he growled. "I'll break all your potions and blow up the whole dungeons."

"You may rail as long as you like," Snape said calmly. "You are not going."

"Why not?" Harry tried not to whine, but he wanted to stomp his foot and throw himself into a rage.

"You are not going to London for Christmas," Snape told him flatly.

"But Ron and Hermione are going to spend New Years in Diagon Alley with their families," Harry kept complaining. "They're going to have fireworks and the twins have planned something incredible."

"Which is precisely why you are not going," Snape continued. "I am not running the risk of taking you there to run wild over the holidays and find some kind of trouble or bodily harm or dark plot to thwart. We're going back to the Manor and have a quiet, warm, safe holiday, just the two of us."

Harry snarled and stomped a few paces away only to whirl back. "I'm sixteen. That's old enough for me to go with my friends. No one else is as protective as you are with me."

"I know," Snape looked back at his book. "No need to thank me - I'll always be as protective of you as I can."

"I'm not a baby," Harry insisted. "You don't have to hold my hand and hide me away in a manor. I can take care of myself. You just want me miserable."

"Harry," Snape said his name quietly, but his look implied that one young Mr. Potter best watch himself.

"Snape, please," Harry tried one last time. "They asked me. What am I going to tell Ron and Hermione? Even Draco and Worty might show up. Draco's even going to sneak out to come New Years Eve. I can't stay at the Manor."

"We could go to Diagon Alley together and see the fireworks," Snape decided. "You'll stay near me and we'll leave the moment they're done. You'll be in disguise, of course."

"Ugh!" Harry growled, contorting his face. "If you don't let me go, I'll sneak out, too."

Snape glanced up at him, and Harry had the decency to look ashamed.

"Then next year," he amended, "when I'm of age, I go stark mad and bust up half of London with my friends."

"Very well, if you must do that next year, I'll not stand in your way. And when the Ministry comes to collect you and lock you up for such disturbing behavior, I may or may not come to bail you out. But for this year, you're not going."

It was so beastly unfair - Harry bristled, as he racked his brain for some scheme or threat that would get Snape to let him go. He thought about throwing a tantrum or breaking things, maybe blowing up a few walls here in the dungeon, but Harry knew that would only get him put on restriction or spanked or given detention, not given permission to go for New Years.

Snape got the final word in, Harry knew that. He knew Snape made the last decision because he was the adult.

"Last year I could have gone," he muttered.

"Last year," Snape replied without looking up from the book, "you could have run drunk and stark naked through Diagon Alley and they would have made excuses for you. This year, I'm responsible for you, and I say you're going to stay right where I can see you."

"And there's nothing I can do to get you to change your mind?"

Snape hesitated and then glanced up. "If you are very, very good over the holidays, and don't give me any cheek or lip, I'll consider letting you go with your friends somewhere during the first few weeks of summer holidays."

"But I'll be of age then," Harry objected.

"But not quite," Snape pointed out. "But bad behavior over the holidays and excessive backtalk will only get you detention in the New Year. Your decision, young man."

Harry snarled something unpleasant under his breath and stormed towards the door. He wanted to the slam the door behind him, but after the summer, Harry knew better than to ever slam a door within twenty miles of Snape. He clicked it shut with just enough emphasis to let Snape know he was not happy, but not loud enough for Snape to come after him.

Hermione and Ron were in the library, very close together over a book. Ron was leaned towards her, and she seemed drawn to him, a pleased smile on her lips as she listened to him. Then she saw Harry and pulled back instinctively.

Harry wanted to tell them that he knew about them and that the jig was up. But still too upset about Snape, Harry flung himself in the chair across from them.

"I can't go," he snapped the words out.

"Snape said no?" Hermione pressed her lips together sympathetically.

"Yeah, he said no," Harry scowled, crossing his arms and hugging them tight to his chest.

"Sorry, mate," Ron shrugged. "I didn't think you could. Snape being Snape, you know. But it was worth a shot."

"Yeah," Harry snarled. He watched his best friends looking all sorry for him, and then Harry decided he had had enough.

"I'll see you later," he pulled out of the chair. "I'll let you get back to snogging."

"Harry!" Hermione protested, but Ron said,

"You know? About us? Well, that was easy. C'mere, ‘Mione, and do as he says."

"Ronald," Hermione's cheeks were quite pink. "We're in public."

The library was mostly empty so Harry saw no need to protect her modesty. "Shut up and kiss him," he ordered shortly before walking away. A part of him hoped that they would follow him and pull him back, maybe Hermione even having to coax him out his short temper, but no one came after him. Harry reached the end of the hall and started towards the stairs when he finally accepted that they were not coming for him at all.

Some friends they were. Harry felt his annoyance growing even stronger. He felt an overwhelming desire to go find Draco and start a fight. They were evenly matched so it would be a fair fight. Harry wondered what Draco would do if Harry jumped him from around a corner and started pounding him mercilessly. Maybe Harry could threaten to beat someone up everyday until Snape agreed to let him go at Christmas.

Harry started down the stairs, ready to find Draco and do some damage when he felt a small hand on his arm.

He looked up to see Luna beside him.

"Oh, hey," he said gruffly.

"Don't," Luna advised.

"What?" Harry blinked.

"Don't," she said softly. "Come for a walk with me and don't do whatever you were planning."

"You don't know what I was planning," Harry stammered.

"No, but anyone looking so cross should be stopped," Luna explained.

Harry frowned. Snape was right - his thoughts must be apparent on his face for everyone to see. Snape was right again and that annoyed Harry even more.

"Let me be," he told Luna. "I'm going to beat a Slytherin and for good reason."

"Come talk with me," Luna took his arm. "We will walk outside and you will explain why you are mad."

Her grip felt weak on his arm, and Harry had no doubt he could push her off and storm off, but they were on stairs, and just because he wanted to batter Draco to pieces did not mean he should be short with Luna. Besides Snape would have a fit if he knew Harry pushed off a girl on the stairs.

"Fine," Harry huffed.

The air outside was cold, but Harry refused to go back for his coat, and Luna did not seem to mind the chilly air as she clung to him. Despite her usual meandering and odd way of talking, Luna was a good listener and Harry soon found himself going to great lengths to explain why he felt so upset. Harry was right in the middle of a rant against Snape when he wondered if Luna knew Snape had adopted him and should it have been kept a secret, but then Harry did not care and kept going.

"It's not just New Years either. All the time, he treats me like a child. He tells me what to eat, what to wear, what to say, where to go, everything! He's always telling me to go to bed or scolding me about how I act. And don't get me started about school. I have to study and read and pay attention, even on the weekends. It's like I'm three, and he's my nanny, following my every move. It's not fair. I'm sixteen. I should be allowed to do normal things sixteen-year-olds do."

"It's frustrating," Luna agreed. "We wish we could have it both ways."

"Both ways?"

"Yes, with parents. When we have parents, we resent them for telling us what to do. When we don't have parents, we wish we did and we say we would do anything if they were with us again."

"Like your mother," Harry noted.

"Like my mother," Luna nodded. "She used to make me wear the most boring clothes and wanted me to tidy my room, and I hated that. Then she died, and I wanted her to tell me one more time to make my socks match or pick up my jumper."

Harry felt an ache inside his throat at the way she looked.

"You'd feel the same way," Luna glanced up at him. "If Snape were not here. You'd wish you could see him one last time and hear him tell you not to eat so many sweets or wash your hair or study your lessons."

Harry did not have anything to say. He had never really considered his life without Snape. It would be different than his life before Snape because Harry had gotten used to Snape, used to having the man around and putting up with his endless rules and lecturing and concern over silly things and also really important things. But for Snape to not be there . . . Harry did not like the idea, and he hurried to say,

"I guess he isn't that bad. But London at New Years - I should be allowed that. Everyone will be going."

"I won't," Luna was quite simple.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you can come, of course. You're always invited."

"But my father won't want me away for New Years. He worries about me, just like Snape does about you. Isn't it funny how fathers worry so much?"

After that, there wasn't much to say. Luna turned to the right and started down the rocky hill towards Hagrid's hut for a long hike, and Harry went with her. Above them dark clouds were gathering, ominous and heavy.

They had almost reached the bottom when Harry heard a breaking sound. He whirled to look behind him and far behind the castle, at the edge of the woods, Harry saw someone in robes disappear into the darkness of trees.

The sky grew dim, and the air was freezing. Harry hurried with Luna into the warmth of Hagrid's hut. They had just reached the door and been welcomed in by Hagrid when the first snowflakes began to fall.

In the middle of Hagrid's garden, a crow cawed, the sound harsh in the empty air.