Harry sat on his bed, twirling his wand in his hands and staring with a frown at the wall.

He still had a half hour before lunch, which he supposed he should use to practice wand movements or study Charms and Transfiguration like Snape had told him to, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. The thirteen-inch hawthorn wand with dragon heartstring core felt like dead wood in his hand, and had done so since the moment Snape had given it to him. Harry had never realized, in all his five years with his old wand, how very real the hum of magic that pulsed through it had been. He had become as used to it as breathing, and it was only when the new wand lay in his hand like a useless twig that he noticed anything missing.

No answers came to him. He didn't know much about wands and cores or any of that stuff, and definitely not much about how wands chose wizards or why one wand might not work as well as another. He knew that people could use wands belonging to others; Sirius had done so, for one, and Harry had seen Sirius performing some great bits of magic. Some wizards even picked out a new wand while they still had their old one, like Charlie Weasley had done (Ron did somehow end up with Charlie's old wand, after all), which didn't make much sense to Harry if the wand that chose the wizard at age eleven was truly the right wand. Why would a wand stop being the right one? And what about Neville, who had used his father's wand for years and been horribly hopeless at magic, and then turned right around when he got to choose a new wand that was truly his own?

The wand was honey colored and very swishy and flexible, very long and thin, with notches carved into the rough handle. It was nothing like his own wand.

He wondered whom it had belonged to previously. It didn't look anything like Snape's wand, either, and though Harry had been told it was one of Snape's spares, he just couldn't see Snape using it.

He hoped Lupin would bring his old wand very soon. There was a rather awful feeling starting to grow in his guts, though he wasn't sure just what he was dreading. He just wanted the reassurance of feeling magic humming through him again.

Without really meaning to, Harry held the wand away from himself and said, "Lumos!"

There was an audible crackle and a wildly flickering burst of light appeared at the end of the wand. A few stray sparks fell to the floor.

"Nox!" Harry said quickly.

The light sputtered for a few more seconds, then died away.

Harry sighed and shoved the wand in his pocket, out of sight.

 

---

 

 

He was one of the last ones in the Great Hall. Feeling like every eye was on him, he made his way to the only empty seat that wasn't next to either Ron or Malfoy, which unfortunately meant it was next to Snape.

"You're late," Snape said as soon as Harry was sitting down.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, taking a quick glance around to see whose attention he had attracted. "Lost again."

He was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley giving Snape a reproachful look.

"Hogwarts takes a bit of getting used to, doesn't it, dear? It's such a big place."

Harry ducked his head. "Yes, ma'am."

Ron made a sound somewhere between a growl and snort. Harry forced himself not to look at his best friend.

"It must be hard to have your father so busy when you only just got here." She seemed to be talking over Harry's head, giving Snape another disapproving frown. "Arthur and I make a special effort to give some of our time to each of our children, no matter how busy we are."

Harry decided not to say anything. He had a creepy sensation on the back of his neck, and guessed that Snape was less than pleased.

"Are you excited about starting school?" Mrs. Weasley continued, ignoring or not noticing both Snape's annoyance and Harry's lack of enthusiasm for conversation. "I assume you were taught at home?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, covering both questions.

Mrs. Weasley seemed satisfied with this, and turned to serve more potatoes to Luna, who was sitting at her side and looking as blank as usual.

Unfortunately, Hermione decided to jump in.

"What sort of subjects did you learn, Hadrian? Have you got a wand?"

With Snape elbowing him, Harry had no choice but to launch into his rehearsed story. "Mum taught me from her old school books, so I reckon I learned some of the same things you have. I also got a lot of books this summer and I've been studying them. I have Mum's wand." He took it out of his pocket and laid on the table. "It's hawthorn with dragon heartstring."

Snape cleared his throat. "We are looking into replacing it once we're more settled here and I have the time."

Harry nodded like he knew what Snape was on about, but it was news to him. For a moment, he even entertained the thought that Snape was going to stop blaming him for not being able to produce decent spells.

"Quite right," said Charlie, who was reading the Daily Prophet over Mr. Weasley's shoulder. "A hand-me-down wand never works as well as one you choose. I had my uncle's old wand when I came to Hogwarts."

Ron made another throaty noise, probably hoping no one would mention where the wand ended up next.

"First thing I did once I had the gold was buy a new wand. Can't be working with dragons without a proper wand."

"You work with dragons?" Harry asked, trying to sound curious. In fact, he was a bit curious how Bill and Charlie had come to accept teaching jobs when they were already doing things they liked.

"Used to," Charlie said. "Taking a year or two off so I can help out where I'm needed most, same as my brother Bill here."

"Did you work with dragons, too?" Harry asked, turning to Bill.

Bill laughed. "Me? Dragons? No, I worked for Gringotts as a curse-breaker."

Mrs. Weasley beamed at her eldest son. "Prefect, Head Boy, twelve Outstandings on --"

"Mum..." Bill said, looking exasperated. "I haven't been a Hogwarts student since '89."

"Have another pastry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Bill fondly and pushing the platter toward him.

Harry couldn't help noticing three pairs of narrowed eyes watching the proceedings. Ron, Fred, and George were sitting at the opposite end of the table, heads together over a single page from the Prophet.

"I'm a Prefect," Ron muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Mr. Weasley gave Ron a quelling look. "Remember what we spoke about, son."

Ron scowled into his bowl of soup.

Everyone went back to what they had been doing before taking notice of Harry, and Harry found himself ignored by everyone but Lupin, who smiled at him and passed the gravy dish.

Harry supposed he had just had his first successful conversation with the Weasleys, if one ignored the fact that Ron and the twins still hated him, that he still hadn't seen a hair of Percy, and that Mr. Weasley had not looked up from the Daily Prophet except to admonish Ron.

All he could think of were the many meals he had shared with the Weasley family before. If he were himself, rather than a stranger who had blundered into their space, he wouldn't be choking down his food in silence while everyone else talked amongst themselves like he didn't exist.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice that Snape was speaking to him until Lupin kicked him under the table.

"-- unless you had other plans for this afternoon?"

Harry thought quickly. He had no idea what he had missed, but he supposed he would find out later, and might as well say what he was expected to. "No, no plans."

"Excellent," Snape said. His eyes were glinting, which was always a bad sign. "I will let you know the precise time when we meet for your lessons."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Although no one spoke to him again, Harry was careful to pay attention to the conversation around him, just in case someone did. It wouldn't do to not answer to his name twice in a row, and from the way Lupin kept looking at him, he wasn't the only one who thought so.

He tried to hear what McGonagall was saying -- he heard something about the Hogwarts Express -- but she was too far away. In another few minutes, she and Bill and Charlie picked up their coffee mugs and excused themselves to the staff room.

Hermione and Ginny were talking about house-elves, but that didn't interest him now that he knew Dobby was still at Hogwarts.

He turned his attention to his left, where Neville and Malfoy were sitting.

"-- probably wilted or dead by now. Do you want them?"

"I'll take a look," Neville said, looking interested. "Plants are hardier than people give them credit for. Er... how did you end up with plants in your trunk?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's all junk in there. I didn't pack it. Someone just threw things in from all over the manor."

"Oh."

"I'd rather have my books and clothes than what I got." Malfoy suddenly looked at Harry, catching him listening in to the conversation. "Thanks for the books, Hadrian. I've left them in the common room if you need them back."

"You're welcome," Harry said. "I won't need them back for a while yet."

Across the table, Ron whispered something to Fred and George, and they all sniggered, sneering at Harry.

Harry wondered if Ron had somehow learned that Harry was revising first year spells. Harry had told Malfoy, and he doubted Malfoy had told anyone, but maybe Snape or Lupin had told Mr. or Mrs. Weasley...

Or maybe Harry was just being paranoid.

"I still think we could study together," Malfoy went on. "We've nothing else to do right now."

Lupin started staring at Harry meaningfully.

Harry sighed, swallowing his annoyance. "Sure, maybe sometime we can."

Lupin frowned at him.

"It sounds like a good idea," Harry added resignedly. It looked like he would be spending more time with Malfoy whether he wanted to or not.

"We should have a study group," Hermione suddenly put in. "Like we had the D.A. last year, but for all the subjects. We could be well ahead by the time classes start up again."

Neville was nodding enthusiastically by the time Harry sneaked a look at Lupin, whose frown was creeping toward a glare the longer Harry stayed silent.

"You can't start up the D.A.!" Ron exclaimed in outrage. "You can't have them --"

Ron didn't get to finish, because Mr. Weasley caught him under the arm and yanked him out of his seat.

"Let's have another talk, Ron," Mr. Weasley said. To the table at large, he added, "Excuse us."

Ron was quickly turning beet red; he was like an orange-topped tomato by the time he and Mr. Weasley had got to the Great Hall doors.

Mrs. Weasley heaved a sigh. "I am sorry about Ron..."

"No need, Molly," Lupin said lightly. He was still keeping his eyes on Harry, however, and Harry didn't miss the worry line that had appeared between his brows. "We all understand the strain --"

"It's no excuse," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "He is not a little child anymore and this mood he's in is childish and inconsiderate of everyone around him. He doesn't realize just how lucky our family has been."

Harry remembered Ginny's words and looked at her. She had her head down, hair falling over her face, and she was starting to be as red as Ron.

"I know he worries about Harry," Mrs. Weasley continued, apparently unaware that the whole table had fallen silent. "I know he feels shut in. But you would think, from the way he's acting, he has the world's problems on his shoulders. And you two --!" She turned on the twins, who shrank away from her. "Encouraging him! Your father and I asked you to do your part and have you?"

"Sorry Mum," George said placatingly. "We'll do better."

Fred nodded.

"Hrmph!" Mrs. Weasley reached for a clean plate and started piling food on it with jerky, irritated movements. "Come along upstairs if all of you've finished eating. I'll see that you're kept busy for the afternoon."

Fred and George exchanged a look. Fred crammed a biscuit in his mouth and washed it down with the last of his pumpkin juice.

"Yes, Mum," George said.

Carrying the plate -- Harry guessed for Percy -- and leading Luna by the hand, Mrs. Weasley headed for the door with Fred, George, and Hermione following.

"I'd better go," Neville said, pushing back his chair. He looked rather helplessly between Mrs. Weasley and Malfoy. "I do want to see the plants though..."

"Oh, Molly!" Lupin called after Mrs. Weasley. "Neville will stay and help me, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley called back. "But don't overexert yourselves -- don't forget you've both been ill."

"I'll send him up in an hour or so. Don't worry about a thing, Molly."

He winked at Neville, who smiled.

"Thanks, Professor Lupin."

"You're welcome, Neville. If you need to get into the greenhouses, there's a spare set of keys in the shed behind Greenhouse One."

"Am I allowed?" Neville asked, looking surprised. "Professor Sprout might not have had a chance to set watering and weeding spells, and I might be able to salvage some of the plants."

Lupin smiled, but there was that worry line again. "Yes, that would be helpful, but like Molly said, don't overexert yourself."

"I won't," Neville said quickly. "Working in the greenhouses is very relaxing for me and... and I think I could help."

"Go on, then," Lupin said. "I'll speak with Molly and see if we can come to some arrangement."

Neville, looking happier than Harry had seen him in a long time, practically trotted off toward the dungeons with Malfoy.

Harry, feeling a stab of jealousy, turned his attention to his almost empty plate.

He wished he had problems that were so easily solved. Why was it that Lupin could offer Neville a quick solution with no strings attached, but any time Harry needed a bit of help all he seemed to get were more problems?

He suddenly realized that he, Snape, and Lupin were the only ones left at the table.

Snape had the Daily Prophet and was pointing something out to Lupin. The back of the paper had a large picture of a simpering, preening Fudge. His silky dress robes, polished buttons, and shiny top hat brought Gilderoy Lockhart vividly to Harry's mind.

He drank the last of his pumpkin juice and pushed the empty glass and plate away.

"I would say things are improving, wouldn't you?" Lupin asked him, looking up from the paper.

Harry just looked at him. He didn't think anything was improving. Certainly not Ron's attitude toward Hadrian. Maybe Lupin meant how Malfoy was now dead-set on having Hadrian as his best friend and study partner, in which case Harry definitely did not see an improvement.

Lupin's smile slid off his face and a bit of reproach crept in. "Part of success in any endeavor is our own attitude. We bring that to every friendship and acquaintance."

Harry got the message. Lupin didn't like his attitude, more or less how Mrs. Weasley didn't like Ron's. Trust Lupin to think that if Harry would just be cheerful and friendly, all his problems would magically vanish. Lupin, after all, seemed to think all that was necessary was to plaster on a smile and look mild and harmless, and people would forgive anything, including being a werewolf.

"I doubt the Weasley boy will come around even if Hadrian makes a fool of himself groveling for his friendship."

Harry's eyes darted in Snape's direction. Had Snape just defended him?

"Yes, well," Lupin said, looking at Snape with some annoyance, "I'm sure hiding in the dungeons and stalking around with a scowl on his face isn't going to do much good, either."

Snape lowered the Daily Prophet to the table with a thump. He looked at Lupin with narrowed eyes.

Harry looked from one to the other uncomfortably.

"Really, Lupin? Has it not occurred to you that I would want my son to cultivate friendships that don't depend on how willing he is to debase himself for the sake of making others comfortable?"

Lupin flushed. "I never --"

Snape sneered at him. "No? Then you admit everything your friends did while you watched like a spineless, gutless coward was in fact done with your blessing?"

Harry involuntarily shrank in his chair, wishing he had some way of escaping. Snape looked about a moment from going for Lupin's throat.

"I don't know how we got on this subject," Lupin snapped. "I was going to say I never intended to suggest your son should be anything but himself --"

"My son," Snape snarled, "may want to 'stalk around with a scowl on his face' as you so graciously put it, and maybe I see nothing wrong with that!"

"Uh..." Harry began. Lupin and Snape had clearly forgotten that he was still there, not to mention that he wasn't Snape's son.

"Be silent," Snape snapped at him. "I've had my fill of petulant, whinging, disobedient children."

Lupin barked out a laugh. "Molly got to you, didn't she? Merlin, I never would have thought that's all it would take."

"I'm just going to go," Harry suggested quietly. He reckoned it was another minute or two before curses started flying. "I have work --"

"You will see me in my office in one hour," Snape told him through clenched teeth, not breaking his glare at Lupin.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, sliding from his chair.

He escaped to the safety of the Entrance Hall, only slowing down when he reached the dungeon stairwell.

"What the hell is going on in there?"

Harry stopped short, face to face with Malfoy and Neville. Neville was holding a tray with some small plant pots, and was biting his lower lip nervously.

"Dunno," Harry said, feeling deflated.

Malfoy continued to study him, tilting his head to one side. "I heard Lupin was with Black before. That's Sirius Black, Potter's godfather."

Harry tried to look blank while his heart dropped into his stomach, making him think he was about to lose everything he had just eaten.

"He's dead, though," Malfoy said. "I guess people move on. I just never would have thought Snape --" Malfoy paused. "Your father. I never thought he'd go for someone like Lupin."

Harry managed to find it in himself to defend Lupin. "I like Lupin. I told you that."

Behind Malfoy, Neville made a noise of agreement.

Malfoy shrugged. "It has nothing to do with liking him. They're odd together and they don't get along."

Harry privately thought that no one could get along with Snape, and if Snape waited around for someone he could get along with, he would die alone. This, of course, didn't stop Harry from agreeing with Malfoy's assessment.

"Want to come to the greenhouses with us?" Malfoy offered amiably. "We're having a look around and planting these." He motioned at the plants Neville was carrying. "I never much cared for Herbology, but I could use some sun and fresh air."

Snape and Lupin's raised voices were still coming from the direction of the Great Hall.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "All right."

He could use some sun and fresh air, too.

Malfoy looked in the direction of the Great Hall and rolled his eyes. "How about we go around the long way?"

Without waiting for an answer, he headed the opposite way, toward the corridor leading to the courtyard.

"Do you want me to carry some of those?" Harry asked Neville. Some of the pots were teetering on the edge of the tray.

"If you can take those two on the end, please," Neville said.

They headed after Malfoy, who had stopped at the corner and looked back impatiently.

There was no wind at all and the air was a bit muggy -- not quite the fresh air Harry had been hoping for -- but the sun was shining and felt warm on his face and arms. They were taking the long way around the castle, walking across overgrown grass that swished against their ankles. It wasn't at all unpleasant, and Harry rather wished he had thought of going out before. Really, he hadn't been outside since the Dursleys.

They came to the greenhouses and Neville lead them around to the back. There was a small stone building, which Harry guessed was the shed.

"Try the door, Draco," Neville said. "Our hands are full."

Malfoy yanked on the door, then took out his wand. "Alohomora!"

Enough sunlight flooded through the shed doorway for Harry to see that it was full of gardening tools, empty pots, sacks of soil and fertilizer, and a great barrel full of what looked like wood chips. The shed was much larger on inside than the outside would have suggested.

Malfoy reached for a ring of large keys, each of which had a different plant design.

"The one with the daisies will open Greenhouse One," Neville said. "Let's begin there."

Malfoy unlocked the greenhouse door and they went in.

Harry gasped as the wave of heat enveloped him.

"Leave the door open," Neville said. "It's awfully stuffy here."

Malfoy pushed a rock with his foot to prop open the door.

"You can wait outside, Draco."

"That's all right," Malfoy said in the tone of a martyr. "Someone has to make sure you two don't get strangled by Devil's Snare... or something." He looked around and found a large overturned pot to sit on. "That's probably the only thing left alive in this place."

Neville pursed his lips, looking around with a frown.

Harry thought Malfoy might be right. There was a row of plants right in front of him, all wilted and brown and lying across the dry soil of their pots. Behind them, a row of pots held only blackened, leafless twigs.

"Devil's Snare is in Greenhouse Three, and it wouldn't have survived long in the sun and heat," Neville said finally. He sighed. "You're right, though. There's not much left alive."

Harry went over to the table and put down the two pots he had been carrying. There were gloves and sets of gardening tools laid out, enough for at least twenty students, as though the last Herbology class had been canceled and no one had entered the greenhouses since then.

"I'm going to plant these, and then prune those alihotsy shrubs," Neville said. He was already pulling on gloves.

"Do you want me to do anything?" Harry asked. He was decent in Herbology, and then there was all the gardening he had done for the Dursleys.

Neville glanced sideways at him. "If you like. You can carry some of these dead plants out to the compost heap."

Harry nodded and picked up three of the pots with dead, wilted plants.

"Honestly," Malfoy muttered as Harry passed him on his way out of the greenhouse.

Harry heard crunching footsteps behind him and turned to see Malfoy levitating a long string of pots, holding his wand out at his side in an easy, careless way.

It made his stomach twist.

"Thanks," he said grudgingly. He supposed it was a minor miracle Malfoy wanted to help at all.

Malfoy grinned. "Watch."

He flicked his wand several times and each of the floating pots turned upside down over the compost heap, dumping their contents.

Malfoy swished his wand in a sweeping motion, and the pots floated to the ground and stacked themselves in a more or less tidy tower.

"I would have cleaned them," Malfoy said pompously, "but they're only going to get more dirt in them sooner or later, so why bother?"

Harry nodded, letting out a breath slowly. It wasn't Malfoy's fault Harry's wand wouldn't even cooperate enough for a lousy Lumos.

He emptied his own pots and started to carry them back to the greenhouse. Malfoy, with his floating tower, followed.

Neville had already re-potted the plants into larger pots and placed them in a long row. He was watering each one carefully, his nose as well as his wand almost touching the soil.

"There," he said as Harry and Malfoy came in. "I've set some watering spells. I think they will recover. This vioala cryana is extremely rare -- it's extinct in the wild and only a few herbologists in Europe cultivate it. Hogwarts never had any."

Harry looked at the wilted plant. It looked dead to him.

"If I had more time," Neville went on, "I would try to save those Chocolate Cosmos. They're very nearly extinct, too, and I do like them..." He sighed heavily. "But I want to check the other greenhouses before we go back."

They made a round of the other greenhouses, which were in the same condition as Greenhouse One. Neville looked distinctly glum by the time they were walking back to the castle.

"Maybe you can do more when you go back next time," Harry said, trying to cheer him up. "One day isn't going to make much difference now."

Neville nodded. "If Mrs. Weasley agrees I can go."

"I'm sure she will."

The Entrance Hall was empty and silent. They stopped at the bottom of the main staircase.

Neville fidgeted with something in his pocket, looking from Harry to Malfoy nervously. "Listen... I'm having a birthday tea on the 30th, and I was wondering..." He pulled out two slightly wrinkled envelopes. "I was wondering if you two would come?"

Harry accepted the envelope Neville held out to him. It was the same heavy parchment as Hogwarts letters usually came in, and in fact Harry could see that the Hogwarts crest had been badly spelled off, leaving a visible imprint in the corner. In the center of the envelope was written 'Hadrian' in black ink and underlined with a red flourish.

"You don't need to bring anything," Neville added quickly. "We're only having tea and cake and maybe we can have it outdoors if the weather is nice."

"Is Weasley going to be there?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Neville said, reddening slightly. "He's my friend. I'm inviting all my friends."

"Well, all right," Malfoy said. "I suppose I'll go..." He glanced at Harry. "If Hadrian will."

"I will," Harry said.

Too late, he realized this meant he wouldn't be able to come as himself.

"Great!" Neville said. "Well, I'll see you!"

Neville practically flew up the staircase, leaving Harry with Malfoy.

"Didn't your father want to see you?" Malfoy said. He was stuffing Neville's invitation, still unopened, into his pocket.

"Yeah," Harry said. He looked at his watch. He was just about to be late. "Thanks."

They walked as far as Snape's office together. Malfoy went on toward the Slytherin common room, while Harry contemplated Snape's closed office door.

He was just about to knock when the door opened and Hermione backed out.

"Thank you, Professor. Oh --!" She turned and saw Harry, whom she had almost walked into. "Here's Hadrian."

"Come in, Hadrian," Snape said.

Harry squeezed past Hermione, who was still lingering uncertainly.

"Close the door."

Harry shut the door, but not before he saw Hermione heading the wrong way; deeper into the dungeons rather than toward the stairs.

"You're late," Snape said, his eyes raking Harry over, no doubt noticing the stains on his clothes where he had carelessly wiped his hands after handling the plant pots. "Where were you?"

"Out in the greenhouses with Neville and Malfoy."

"Go wash up," Snape said, frowning at him. "Bring your clothes and the empty goblets, too. I should have had you bring them this morning."

Harry nodded and escaped back into the corridor.

When he was at his own door, his ears caught the sound of voices, one of them female and very familiar.

Everything Snape wanted was already packed into a sack, so Harry reckoned he had a bit of time. He pulled on his robes to cover his stained shirt and took less than a minute to wash the worst off his hands under hot water. Then, throwing the Invisibility Cloak around himself, he left his room and followed the sound of the voices.

"-- Weasley finds out you're meeting me in broom cupboards and --"

"I would have come to your common room if I knew how to find it. I don't know why we can't just talk like normal people and have to sneak around like we have something to hide."

Before Harry could manage to do much more than reign in his urge to rip off his Cloak and demand what was going on, Malfoy and Hermione disappeared around the corner.

Harry wanted to follow them, but he was out of time.

He took a moment to look inside the open doorway from which Hermione and Malfoy had appeared.

The room was dusty and devoid of any useable furniture; there were several broken chairs stacked together in a corner, a lopsided potions table that still had the remnants of a melted cauldron attached to its burnt surface, and a large scenic painting with a damaged frame leaning against a wall. There were no brooms or cleaning supplies, and the room didn't look like it served any purpose other than to have useless and broken things put in it and forgotten about.

By the time Harry got back to Snape's office, he had already put the room out of his mind.

Snape looked up from his book and fixed him with an irritated look.

"Sorry," Harry said automatically. He put the sack on Snape's desk. "That's everything."

Snape was still staring at him. Out of habit, Harry averted his eyes.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No, sir," Harry said quickly, right before thinking of something he did, in fact, need to tell Snape. "Er..."

Snape waited.

"Er... Neville just invited me and Malfoy to his birthday tea." Harry took the invitation out of his pocket and laid it on Snape's desk. "I already accepted."

Snape spared the envelope only a brief glance. "I have no interest in organizing your social life for you."

"I just meant... I won't be able to go as me. I thought that was important for you to know."

"Lupin may be more interested in that sort of thing," Snape said dismissively. "He's been trying to organize the birthday bash of the century --"

"For Neville?" Harry asked, confused.

Snape stared at him.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling very stupid. For him, obviously. Neville's birthday was on the 30th; his was the next day.

"I don't know that you will be able to attend that, either," Snape said. He paused, waiting for Harry's reaction. "There are many things to consider."

Harry didn't know how he felt about it. He had more or less managed to forget his birthday was approaching. "That's all right..."

Snape must have been expecting him to cause a scene, because he didn't say anything for a long time.

"Maybe I could have a birthday tea like Neville, and invite everyone to that," Harry said. "It's only fair if Neville invited me."

Snape looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Potter, I just said --"

"Hadrian!" Harry said, reddening. "I meant Hadrian, not me. Hadrian's birthday is on the 1st, so I thought..."

Snape huffed irritably. "I suppose that would be acceptable. Ask Lupin to plan it."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He tried to reign in the compulsion to keep talking. For some odd reason, he was wanting to ask Snape any number of inane things.

"What is it?" Snape asked after a few moments, frowning at him.

"Nothing," Harry said hurriedly, before his tongue could run away with him.

"There's obviously something."

Harry was grateful that at that very moment there came a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!"

Snape frowned at him again, his head tilting slightly to one side, like Harry was a puzzle to be solved.

Harry pulled the door open.

Lupin smiled at him. "Hello Hadrian. Severus. Am I late?"

"No, come in," Snape said.

Harry got out of the way and returned to his place on the bench in front of Snape's desk.

"What's all this?" Lupin asked. He reached for a book from a stack on Snape's desk. "A little light reading?"

Snape's hand flew out and grabbed Lupin's wrist before he could touch the book. "Don't. These are from the Malfoy library and I won't be responsible for your missing fingers."

"Hmm," Lupin said. "Well, if you find anything interesting..."

For some reason, Snape's face paled several shades. He looked positively ill.

Lupin didn't notice. He had picked up Neville's invitation. "What's this, Harry?"

"I was invited to Neville's birthday tea."

Lupin blinked at him. "I see. Well, if you need a reason to decline --"

"I already accepted," Harry said, feeling annoyed and not quite knowing why. "I want to go."

"All right," Lupin said placatingly. "I just thought --"

"We've already discussed it, Lupin," Snape put in. "He will go to the tea and he won't be going anywhere on the 31st, but he may have a tea for his August 1st birthday."

Harry looked from Lupin to Snape with growing irritation. For someone who didn't intend to plan his social life for him, Snape was very sure of Harry's social schedule.

"Is that agreeable to you?" Lupin asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Harry said. Well, it was, he told himself firmly. He was the one who had suggested it. There was no reason to be annoyed about it now. "That's fine with me."

"All right," Lupin said, still looking at him doubtfully. "I will give you envelopes and parchment if you would like to write out some invitations."

Snape snorted. "Are invitations necessary when they see each other at every meal? It's wasteful."

"It's only polite," Lupin countered. "It also gives people a chance to decline without doing so face to face."

"I'm sure Weasley will have no trouble declining --"

"Severus," Lupin said, "I don't think it's appropriate to shove your own insecurities on him."

Snape's expression turned wrathful. Harry was certain he was about to witness part two of the argument that had begun over lunch.

"Here --" Lupin held out Neville's invitation to Harry. "Don't forget to respond properly."

Harry took the invitation back and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Should we get on to what we're really here for?" Lupin said. "I brought Harry's wand."

Harry, flip-flopping from apprehension to confusion, watched as Lupin took a paper-wrapped package out of his pocket and unwrapped it carefully. Harry's old wand was inside.

By the time Harry looked up, Snape had got himself together and no longer looked like he was a few moments away from committing murder.

"Do you have your wand with you?" Lupin asked Harry.

"Yes." He pulled it out. His hand was itching to hold his old wand instead.

"Good. We will do a simple experiment. First you will attempt a spell with the new wand, then the same spell with your old wand. That should tell us how to proceed."

Harry, who had been the one to ask Lupin for his old wand in the first place, was now wishing he had never suggested it. He had wanted to have it alone in the privacy of his room, not in front of Lupin and Snape like it was some sort of test.

"Severus, do you have some feathers or old quills? I don't want to conjure something in case it throws off the accuracy."

Snape reached into a desk drawer and produced several small feathers, which he pushed across the desk so that they lay in a row in front of Harry.

Harry raised his wand.

"Hold on," Lupin said. He took out his own wand. "Ready, Severus?"

Harry looked at Lupin questioningly. "Why...?"

"We will just cast a simple monitoring spell," Lupin said with a reassuring smile. "Nothing to worry about. Go ahead and try levitating the feathers one at a time. Don't worry if anything goes wrong. Just keep casting until you've tried them all."

Harry, remembering the fire he had started the last time, glanced at Snape and was not at all reassured by the thin-lipped expression on his face.

"Go on," Lupin urged again.

Harry took a breath and held it for a moment.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather blasted off Snape's desk, leaving a scorch mark.

Harry, though he jerked back at the explosion, aimed for the next feather in line. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather burst into flames.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

More flames.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Another scorch mark on Snape's desk... Harry was afraid to look at Snape.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Flames.

That had been the last one. A bit of fluff floated down and landed on the back of Harry's hand.

"Good," Lupin said, his voice slightly strained. "That should be enough."

Harry watched Lupin and Snape exchange a look.

"Well, let's try it with your old wand, shall we?" Lupin said, his usual smile back. "Let me take that one. You can't be holding both at the same time, or it could affect the spell in unpredictable ways."

Harry handed Lupin the hawthorn wand and took his old one.

He willed it to feel just like it used to.

It just lay in his hand.

Harry swallowed.

"Something wrong?" Lupin asked.

Snape was watching Harry closely, eyes slightly narrowed. Analyzing him.

It was enough to make Harry sit up straight and lift his chin. "No, nothing's wrong."

Of course, something was. The wand felt dead.

"More feathers, Severus?"

Harry swallowed again as he watched Snape lay out the feathers in front of him. His stomach clenched.

"Go ahead," Lupin said. "Just like before."

Harry aimed his wand, willing his hand not to shake.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather rose, wobbly and vibrating, and exploded in flames.

"Again," Lupin said when a moment passed and Harry hadn't been able to get himself to cast the spell again. "Keep going."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

A small crack appeared on Snape's desk where the next feather had been; Harry didn't see what had happened to the feather itself.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Flames.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Another short, wobbly flight, ending in flames.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The last feather took flight across Snape's desk, and Snape doused it with water before anything else could happen. The feather, wet and pathetic, lay on top of an old Daily Prophet.

"Interesting," Lupin said in a falsely calm tone.

Harry looked at him with a scowl.

"Sorry," Lupin said. He managed to sound apologetic. "I realize this must be distressing."

Harry had to swallow again, then gasped for breath. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked, concerned. He leaned toward Harry, one hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I --" Harry's thoughts leaped wildly around. When was the last time he had used magic? Before leaving Hogwarts? While packing? On the train? Or was the last time at the Ministry of Magic? "I -- I'm not -- Malfoy said --"

"What?" Lupin demanded, shaking him slightly. "What is it, Harry?"

There was a sound of clinking glass, and Lupin suddenly had a small vial in his hand.

"No, I don't want a calming draught!" Harry bellowed, pulling himself together. "I'm fine!"

Lupin put the potion down on Snape's desk. "Then tell us what's wrong."

"I just can't remember the last time I used magic and not had it go wrong," Harry said. His breath was still catching in his throat, but he was slightly calmer... and embarrassed he had made a fool of himself again. "I think it might have started when Vol--" He sneaked a look at Snape, but Snape didn't react. "When Voldemort died."

"Hmm," Lupin said, looking at Snape as though he expected Snape to have the answers.

"You don't think...? I told Malfoy I was working on first year spells and he asked if I was magical..." Harry shook his head, feeling stupid. "I don't know why I even thought of that now."

"Of course you still have your magic," Lupin said, patting him on the shoulder. "All we observed is that your magic is in a state of confusion and lacks focus. There was no evidence it had lost strength."

"Really?" Harry asked suspiciously, glancing at Snape in case what Lupin said and Snape thought were going to be two different things.

"Really," Lupin said firmly.

Harry watched as Lupin and Snape exchanged another meaningful look.

"Why don't you go wash up, Harry?" Lupin suggested pleasantly, as though he really thought Harry was thick enough not to notice he was being dismissed so they could talk about him or things they didn't think he should know about. "You have some soot on you. You do remember you agreed to have tea with Professor Snape and Draco today, don't you?"

Harry opened his mouth in protest, then closed it. So that was what he had agreed to at lunch.

Without a word, Harry put his old wand down on Snape's desk, took the one Lupin held out to him, and left Snape's office.

As soon as he was in the corridor he ducked into an empty room and pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket, throwing it around himself. A moment later he was back at Snape's door with his ear pressed to it.

"-- with the formula?"

"I could have missed something," Snape said. "It's a complicated set of charms."

"He hasn't been acting quite himself lately --"

"I have noticed."

"I thought he might just be settling down a bit --"

Snape snorted.

"I hope we aren't about to be faced with something we're unprepared for. Harry --"

Harry's ear stung as a silencing charm rippled through the door, making him leap back.

With a huff of frustration, he turned on his heel and stalked toward his room.

A few minutes later he was sitting on his bed with Neville's invitation in front of him, trying to put everything out of his mind before he really did need a calming draught.

The invitation was almost comical in its formality. He tried reading it aloud in a snooty voice.

"Mr. Neville Longbottom would like to extend his cordial invitation..." Harry snorted. "Fine teas will be brewed and delicate finger sandwiches shall be enjoyed..."

He hoped Lupin didn't think he was going to write anything like that on his own invitations.

He wrote 'Yes' on the line after the question, 'Will you attend?', and wrote his name on the bottom of the parchment.

It was the first time he had ever written his new name, and he paused to contemplate it.

But that just brought back the question of what might be wrong with him, and why after just a few days as Hadrian Snape he seemed to be losing his true self.

Pushing the invitation away, he sprawled on his back on the bed and closed his eyes against the unwanted thoughts.