Harry finished his dinner slowly. Though it was a glum and silent affair, he didn't want to leave Lupin sitting there by himself, staring off into space as he presently was.

"Er..." Harry cleared his throat, hoping Lupin would look up. Sometimes it was hard to get his attention. "Will you be going up soon?"

Lupin roused a little, seeming to remember the tea cup in his hand. He drained it, but didn't put it down, his hands encircling it as he stared seemingly without seeing at the tea leaves sticking to the bottom. "In a while," he said tonelessly.

Harry collected his empty dishes, leaving Lupin's nearly untouched plate in front of him. He washed up at the sink and put everything away, wrung out the dish towel and hung it up to dry over the stove, and leaned against the counter, staring at the back of Lupin's head. He wished for something to say.

There was nothing.

"Good night," he said finally, stifling a sigh.

Lupin didn't reply. Harry hadn't expected him to.

He walked through the gloomy, dark house, not bothering to light the oil lamps. It had been a while since he had refilled them, anyway.

Something caught his eye just as he reached the bottom of stairs. There, lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, was a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper and twine. He supposed it had been sent through the Floo, as things often were.

He picked it up. There was a white card stuck under a knot of twine, and he worked it loose.

R. Lupin
For services rendered.

Harry turned the card over, but the back was blank.

He carried the package back to the kitchen, in case it was urgent that Lupin receive it.

Lupin was still sitting where Harry had last seen him, only a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky had replaced the tea cup in his hand. He didn't try to hide it. There was no sign that he noticed Harry come in.

"There was a package for you." Harry placed it on the edge of the table next to Lupin's elbow. "It must have come through the Floo, but I didn't hear anyone call today."

Lupin's glassy, bloodshot eyes shifted from the bottle to the package with no apparent interest. "Thank you, Harry."

"Good night," Harry said for the second time, turning reluctantly to leave. He hated when Lupin drank.

"Sweet dreams," Lupin said after him in a dreary monotone.

Yes, Harry thought. I wonder what those are like.

He trudged upstairs, washed his face and cleaned his teeth, stared into the mirror at the pale, skinny boy with a fading bruise where a jagged scar used to be, and got into bed. He spelled the lights off, put his wand and his glasses on the bedside table, and stared into the darkness until his eyes adjusted and he was able to make out the two picture frames facing him.

In one, his parents danced in endless circles, laughing and in love. In the other, Sirius had his arm thrown over Harry's shoulder, and he, too, was laughing, his eyes shining. But his face was turned from the camera, and his smile was for Lupin, who was sitting on Harry's other side with his lap full of Christmas gifts and crumpled wrapping paper.

He shut his eyes and waited for morning.

---

Harry came down the stairs, ready to make the morning rounds, which meant checking that the wards had held through the night and that no messages had arrived, and taking in the daily paper.

He stopped short at the realization that someone else was in the house. His wand was in his hand without conscious thought, but he lowered it the next moment.

Just Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He paused at the top of the stairs, just out of sight. It wasn't that he wanted to eavesdrop, but he knew barging in would stifle the conversation. He tended to have that effect. Shacklebolt was there for Lupin; Harry might as well leave them to talk in peace.

"No, thank you, Remus. I still have a few stops to make. Another time."

"Will you be at the Burrow, by any chance?"

"I will be, yes."

"In that case, would you mind taking a few things? Harry and I have set aside a box. I'm sure Molly will appreciate it...."

Harry recoiled. Lupin was giving away Sirius' things? And when had he asked for Harry's opinion?

"Thank you. I hope it isn't too much trouble."

"Of course not. Why, just about everyone's been sending things their way. Anyone who can...."

Harry was overcome with guilt. Of course. How stupid and selfish of him. He hadn't even thought of sending anything. There he was, with a Gringotts vault stuffed full of gold, and it hadn't occurred to him to send so much as a Knut to the people who had been like a second family to him. The few times he'd thought of the Weasleys, he'd quickly made himself think of something else. Arthur Weasley's blank, empty eyes haunted his dreams along with dozens of others. The Burrow was a burnt-out shell the last time he'd seen it, the Weasley children huddled around their mother while rain and ash fell from a leaden sky.

He hadn't been back since. Ron's letters to him were short and hollow, and he hadn't been able to force himself to reply. He had put it off until he convinced himself that a reply after so long a silence would only be insulting.

And he hadn't thought to send so much as a Knut. Never mind that none of it would have happened if not for him. If they hadn't taken him in.

The front door shut, the heavy lock grating until it fell into place. Harry heard Lupin walk toward the stairs to the kitchen, his steps growing fainter.

He followed.

And stopped short again when he heard music start up softly. Someone was humming.

Lupin was humming.

He was washing dishes, his head swaying gently to the old-fashioned tune. The radio, perched precariously atop a stack of newspapers, vibrated with life.

Harry stared at him, not understanding.

Lupin looked over his shoulder and smiled brightly. "Morning, Harry. Have a seat. I'll just finish up here and we'll have breakfast."

Harry sat heavily in the closest chair. He did not understand.

Gone the worn-out, pinched look Lupin had worn for months. Gone the ever-present creases on his forehead. When Lupin brought plates piled high with pancakes dripping syrup, there was a shine in his eyes that Harry had never seen there before.

"Eat up," Lupin said cheerily, "we have a long day ahead of us."

"Oh?" Harry asked cautiously.

Lupin didn't seem to have heard him. He was making short work of his food, seeming to enjoy every bite.

Harry ate. It was delicious. They hadn't had a proper meal since he'd arrived; Lupin would put down plates of bread and cold meat, and Harry hadn't felt up to changing that routine.

"Finished? Good. Now, how much money do you have, Harry?"

It was such an odd question that it took Harry a moment to answer. "About fifty galleons."

"Hmm. We'll have to get more," Lupin said, more to himself than to Harry.

Harry hadn't been out of Grimmauld Place in weeks. Not since Lupin had brought him there, delirious and hovering near death, following Voldemort's final attack. The idea of a visit to Gringotts was alien.

Lupin whisked away their empty plates and glasses, but left them sitting in the sink. He brought a packing box out from under the table. "Here, take this." He waited until Harry had done so. "This will sound a bit odd, but please do as I say."

Harry nodded without a word.

"Good boy." Lupin reached out and ruffled Harry's hair fondly. "I want you to go and pack anything that's terribly important to you. Anything you couldn't bear to lose. Don't bother with anything replaceable."

Harry nodded again. Questions swam across his brain, but he didn't say a word.

"Go on," Lupin said. He smiled encouragingly at Harry.

Harry went. He wrapped the photographs from his bedside table in his Invisibility Cloak, and the Cloak in his best robes. His photo album, with the Marauders' Map tucked between the pages. His first Hogwarts letter. His first birthday cards. The flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. The model Firebolt from Tonks. He hesitated before adding Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts. He hesitated still more before wrapping the fragments of the broken two-way mirror in a Weasley sweater and tucking the lumpy bundle into a corner of the box.

He looked at what remained in his trunk. Chocolate Frog cards. Sneakoscope. Omnioculars. Letters, clothing, quills, books....

He heeded Lupin's instructions. He left them all.

Avoiding looking at Hedwig's empty cage in the corner, he took up the box and left the room.

Lupin was waiting for him. He had a box as well, and it was filled to brimming with books. The only valuable possessions Harry knew Lupin to still own.

He took the box from Harry. "We'll just send these along."

"Where?" Those were, after all, the things he could not bear to lose.

"Hogwarts, of course." Lupin was already sending his own box through the Floo. Harry's followed shortly. "Now, are you ready?"

Ready for what?

"Yes. Are we really going out?"

Is it safe? For me. For you. For random people in the street.

Lupin took Harry traveling cloak off the hook and swung it around Harry's shoulders playfully. "Out. Yes."

With Lupin carrying his own worn brown cloak draped carelessly over one arm, and Harry half-running to keep up with him, they left Grimmauld Place behind.

---

They Apparated to Diagon Alley, but not before Lupin looked Harry over critically and adjusted the hood of his cloak, effectively hiding most of Harry's face.

"Keep your head down," he said, in the same tone one might speak of the weather.

Their first stop was Gringotts.

"We'll need about four hundred galleons," Lupin told him. He wasn't going in with Harry. "Have them spell it so it won't be hard for you to carry."

It was an awful lot of money, but the goblin at the desk showed no interest. In no time, Harry was rejoining Lupin, a bulging sack weighing down his pocket despite the spell.

"To the book shop," Lupin said. He made it sound like they were off on some grand adventure.

But they walked right past Flourish & Blott's, and then past Obscurus Books. Lupin was walking confidently, and Harry didn't question him.

They stopped in front of a small shop that Harry had never taken notice of before, but which on closer look was, in fact, a book shop.

"Can't go in with you, Harry," Lupin said, still lightly, though his eyes hardened as he motioned to a small printed sign in the window.

 

These premises
compliant with
Act 512-A

Harry didn't need to ask what Act 512 was. He nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral.

"In the back will be a case with some dodgy-looking books. Look for one with a blue cover with silver edges. It'll be sixty galleons or so. Don't bother haggling, and don't answer any questions if anyone wants to know what you want with it. Clear?"

Harry nodded.

"I'll be right here in case there's any trouble."

Harry nodded again, and tried not to look back as he opened the door and went into the dimly lit, musty shop.

He found the book with no trouble, and purchased it from a bored-looking teenage clerk who didn't so much as glance at the book twice, and didn't seem to recognize Harry, who hadn't lowered his hood.

Lupin was clearly delighted to hear this, though he said nothing before taking the book from Harry and stowing it in an inside pocket of his robes. He smiled at Harry with approval. "The Apothecary next." And they were off.

Harry purchased twelve vials of dragon blood, nearly emptying his money bag.

"Good," Lupin said. He smiled his approving smile again, and Harry's heart did another happy somersault. "Now, are you ready for a little adventure?"

"Sure," Harry said recklessly. He was starting to enjoy their weird little shopping spree. He knew he shouldn't. There was something ominous about being told to pack up your dearest belongings, being taken to a place you knew wasn't safe for you to go, and being instructed to purchase hundreds of galleons worth of things you didn't have any use for.

"I'll need fifty galleons."

Harry was left with only a few coins.

Lupin led him into Knockturn Alley, his footsteps sure and unwary. He held open a door and bid Harry inside a stuffy, candle-lit shop.

Once Harry's eyes adjusted to the flickering light, he began to make out all sorts of odd items on the shelves. Shrunken heads. Animals parts. Crystals. Stones with odd carvings, delicate silver instruments, clocks and watches with hands that told everything but time....

Lupin leaned close to Harry's ear. "Pretend to look around for a bit. Not too long; mind, we don't have a lot of time. Then join me at the counter."

Harry circled the shop slowly, trying to keep his eyes on Lupin, who had asked to see some jewelry from a glass display.

When he came up to the counter, Lupin held up a small ring with a sparkling, milky stone that seemed to be all colors at once. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry had no idea what this was about, but he could guess what Lupin wanted. "Oh, yes, it's lovely."

"We'll take it," Lupin told the squat, balding man behind the counter.

The ring was wrapped in pink tissue paper and they left the store.

"In here, Harry." Lupin pulled him into a narrow crevice between two buildings. He gave him the pink parcel. "Take it out for me, will you? Bloody thing had to be silver...." He blew on his fingers, which Harry noticed were reddened.

Harry took the ring out.

"Toss it for me."

Harry looked at him with a slight frown, but Lupin was twirling his wand with such a boyish grin that Harry couldn't refuse.

The ring flew up, spinning as Lupin's spell hit it, and with a ping the stone shot out of its setting. Lupin snatched it out of the air and rubbed it on his sleeve, looking pleased.

"Grab the ring, will you?"

Harry picked up and pocketed the slightly dented silver ring, which looked rather forlorn missing its stone.

"Next stop," Lupin said lightly, pushing Harry gently back onto the paved street.

They stopped before a shop advertising antiques, but rather than enter it, Lupin drew Harry to the side.

"You'll be staying out here. Now, if you think you're in any danger, I want you to come right inside. Otherwise, just wait for me. I may be a while."

Harry leaned against the wall and watched Lupin go in. The minutes trickled by.

"Coming through -- oomph, 'scuse me, ma'am -- make way --"

Harry turned with a sick stomach, and there was Mundungus Fletcher making his way through the crowd, weighed down by what looked like all the furniture one might need to start up housekeeping.

With a groan, Harry pushed away from the wall and hurried into the shop.

Lupin was at the counter, haggling over what looked a somewhat like a time-turner set in an intricate gold sphere with crystals around a thicker outer rim.

"Six-hundred galleons. My final offer. I don't believe you will get a better one any time soon. Six-hundred and thirty... honestly, if you want to hold out over thirty galleons...."

The shop keeper grumbled under his breath, but Lupin's face relaxed, telling Harry that he had been successful. Indeed, the shop keeper was drawing up a receipt.

Lupin took it. "I will need a box, if you please."

Then he noticed Harry behind him, and his brow furrowed. "Something wrong?"

"Dung," Harry said shortly. "Coming in here, I think."

Lupin whirled around to look through the grimy window, and, indeed, Mundungus was approaching the shop, swaying under his bulky load.

"Bloody f--" Lupin cut himself off, ending in a hiss. "Stay here Harry -- No, wait...." He signed the receipt quickly and handed it to Harry. "Take my purchase as soon as it's ready, and go out the back. You'll find yourself in Diagon Alley again."

With that, Lupin walked out of the shop and quickly intercepted Mundungus, appearing to strike up a friendly conversation. Mundungus was looking rather irritated.

The shop keeper had been eyeing Harry, one hand lying protectively over a box.

Harry looked down at the receipt. Six hundred galleons, from Lupin's personal vault. Lupin couldn't possibly have that kind of money, or, if he did, it was all he had in the world. If he didn't, and he was trying to rip this man off....

"Uh, would you mind drawing up another receipt? I would like to pay for the purchase... As a gift for my friend, you know?"

The man scowled at him.

"I'll pay the original asking price," Harry said quickly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Lupin had lost his grip on Mundungus' arm and was looking a bit desperate.

The shop keeper smiled a very ugly, crooked smile, and drew up a receipt. Harry signed it, crumpling the old one and stuffing it into his pocket. He took the box, checked that the gold thing was inside, and asked to be shown to the back door.

In the sunshine of Diagon Alley, he leaned against the mossy, warm wall of the shop and gulped the fresh air.

Maybe a bit too much adventure. All sorts of feelings were being stirred up.

Lupin rejoined him momentarily, praised him for his quick thinking, and led him rather hurriedly toward Gringotts.

"All right, Harry. Look at me." Lupin had him by the shoulders, and his amber eyes looked deep into Harry's. "I need you to do something that I know will sound absolutely mad to you, but it simply must be done. I'm going to tell you why, but we don't have a lot of time for questions. Listen --" Lupin took a deep breath. "I wanted to protect you from all of this, but you know how it's been. There're things happening right now, which I can't explain properly, but the gist of it is that in a few days the Ministry'll be making a decision about who will be responsible for you until you're of age. This is a problem, obviously. We can't control the outcome. I've decided to act preemptively...."

Harry nodded, because that seemed like the thing to do.

"Here's what I want you to do. Go in there, and sign over Sirius' vault to Tonks. She's family, so they shouldn't think it odd. Then --" Lupin's grip on Harry tightened. "I want you to take a thousand galleons -- that's the limit for a single transaction -- from your own vault, and then split the rest between Bill and Molly. Clear?"

Harry blinked at him. It wasn't clear at all... but it was the Weasleys. And Sirius should have left his money to his family, rather than to Harry, anyway. "Yes, I understand."

Lupin smiled down at him, giving him the strength to do what was asked of him, and gave him a push toward the entrance.

---

They had Apparated to a narrow street, soon joining with a crowd of hurrying Muggles. Harry couldn't tell what language was being spoken. They had Apparated so many times in quick succession that the squeezing, pinching sensation lingered even minutes later, making him gasp out short shallow breaths.

"Where are we?"

Lupin shook his head. "Not here, or right now, Harry."

Harry couldn't help noticing that Lupin was walking with even more confidence now, a spring in his step. A smile was playing in the corner of his lips.

An oddly wary feeling started stirring again in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"Here we are," Lupin said suddenly, stopping short in front of an iron gate set in an ivy-covered wall. Beyond it, Harry could see a rather dilapidated brick building. "In we go."

Harry followed him along a weedy path, until they stopped out of sight of the road and the building's main entrance, under the cover of some overgrown willows.

"Thank you for trusting me thus far, Harry, it meant a great deal to me." He dug into his pocket and took out the small stone, holding it between two fingers and allowing it to catch the sunlight. "Look at this, Harry."

Harry looked. The colors were swirling.

"That's right," Lupin murmured. He reached for Harry's glasses, and Harry's vision blurred. "Closer..." His hand cupped the back of Harry's head and guided him. The stone slowly came into focus again.

The stone was changing color. What was milky, opalescent white was now a moody, muddy green... a bright green... an emerald green just like...

Just like Harry's eyes.

"Good," Lupin said, taking the stone away and returning Harry's glasses to him. "Have you got the ring, still?"

Harry, feeling a little lightheaded, fished the ring out of his pocket and offered it to Lupin.

"No, you hold it." With a wave of his wand, Lupin had attached the green stone to the ring, where it fit as thought it had never been removed. "Now, put it on, let me see how it fits."

It fit Harry's index finger with difficulty. Oddly, Lupin looked pleased.

"This is it, then...." Lupin was looking down at him, holding Harry with his eyes as well as once more by the shoulders.

Harry thought once again how oddly bright Lupin's eyes were, as thought lit by an inner fire.

"I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to trust me again. Can you do that?"

Harry did. He couldn't not. He ignored the warning whispers in his head and nodded.

"I'm going to leave you here." Lupin's grip tightened to still Harry's involuntary twitch. "Yes, Harry. I'm going to leave you here, where you will be safe until Sirius can come for you."

Harry's mouth fell open in a silent Oh.

Because he finally understood.

Lupin was insane. Somewhere between losing Sirius, losing Dumbledore, losing half the Order and almost losing Harry, and having one too many anti-werewolf acts passed against him, Lupin had lost his mind.

It wasn't that odd, really. Harry had seen it happen in far shorter time to others who had suffered far less.

He was going to struggle, but he had lost a moment; that one moment while that awful realization had washed over him. Then it was too late. There was a slender chain around his neck, and Lupin was spinning the gold sphere, the tiny hourglass in its center tumbling over and over itself.

The world was whirling around him in a blur of green that used to be ivy and willow and grass, and all he could see clearly were Lupin's eyes, which had never left his.

The eyes that had been dulled by pain and grief for months now looked alive once more, and Harry's one thought was that perhaps it would be best for Lupin this way. At least he could believe the impossible. Harry had to live with the unchangeable truth.

The world stopped spinning. There was something terribly wrong.

He thought perhaps he had fallen to his knees, which certainly would have been reasonable given his dizziness, because Lupin's face was suddenly so far above him.

Lupin had pocketed the gold instrument, and his wand flicked lightly over Harry, just touching the top of his head. Harry felt some tugging, and looked away from Lupin to see the sleeves of his jumper shrinking to fit him.

He frowned. It hadn't been too big for him.

He realized what was wrong while Lupin was taking his hand in his own large, calloused one and leading him up the porch steps and through a heavy door into a brightly lit entrance hall.

He had shrunk. But more than that -- he was a child again. Skinny, knobby-kneed... a child.

His brain refused to work and he stumbled after Lupin, his legs carrying him on auto-pilot.

"Sit," Lupin said, propelling him onto a hard bench along the wall. "Let me take care of this."

A woman had come through a door, wiping her hands on her apron and bringing with her a smell of baking bread and ripe fruit.

"Ya mogu vam pomoch?" she asked, smiling at Harry but looking at Lupin. Harry hadn't understood a single word she said.

Lupin had his wand in his hand, held just out of sight at his side. It flicked once, twice... Harry lost count.

"Ochen horosho," the woman said, her face unnaturally slack. "Kohechno vozmeom malchika."

Lupin smiled.

He turned to Harry, kneeling in front of him.

"Harry..." he said softly, "I know you must be frightened." He leaned close, placing a kiss on top of Harry's head. "Someone will come for you," he whispered. "I pray to every god I know it will be Sirius."

And then he left him.

Harry, his face still frozen in that same shocked Oh, was alone.

It was a Muggle orphanage; Harry figured that out rather quickly.

How Lupin could leave him in such a place... he couldn't understand.

Oh, they were nice enough to him, certainly, even if he couldn't understand any of what they said to him.

Except one word -- malchik, boy -- he figured that out rather quickly too.

If he were perfectly honest, he would admit that he understood a bit more than just that, actually. He wasn't dimwitted; he knew what the lady meant when she patted her hand against her chest, repeating "Lena Levskaya," over and over, and then patted Harry's chest and looked at him questioningly. He pretended he didn't understand, though, because he wasn't sure he wanted to tell anyone his name.

The other orphans, a skinny, peaky group of about forty boys and girls, stared at him curiously when the lady, Lena, ushered him into a large room with several long tables set for dinner.

It was a simple meal, but Harry cleaned his plate ravenously. He hadn't realized how tiring his day had been. He ignored everyone around him, used to being stared at but not liking it any more here than he ever had.

The meal over, the children scampered off in all directions, leaving just one girl behind. When she stood up, Harry saw that she was lame, her left foot dragging as she walked. He understood why the others had rushed off so quickly when the girl began the long process of clearing the tables.

He already hated this place, and he cursed Lupin for leaving him there.

"You are British, no?"

Harry startled, blinking at the girl as though she had grown a second head.

She smiled at him. She had a nice smile.

"Yes," he finally said. "You speak English?"

"Yes," she said. Then she frowned slightly. "Very small."

"What's your name?" Harry asked before he could catch himself. Well, that was stupid. She'd want to know his name next.

"Irina." She cocked her head to one side, reminding him strongly of Luna Lovegood. "Your name?"

"James," Harry said.

This so startled him that he actually fell back a step, his mouth snapping shut so hard his teeth clicked together.

"James," he said again, forcing his mouth to shape the right sounds. It came out just the same as before.

She smiled at him again, despite a quirked eyebrow. "James. Nice to meet you."

Harry knew he must look terribly stupid, but it was such a shock to open your mouth to say one thing only to have something entirely different come out.

They didn't say anything else until Irina had led the way to the kitchen. Rolling up their sleeves, they started washing. There was only cold water until Irina filled a pan with hot water from a kettle.

"I saw you before," she said, glancing at him. "With the man. Your father?"

"No." He couldn't imagine the hurt of being brought to a place like this by his own mum or dad. "My parents are dead. He was just a friend."

Some friend, said a voice in his head. He stomped it down. Lupin couldn't help it; he wasn't in his right mind. Harry just had to figure out a way out of this mess....

Irina nodded knowingly, and didn't say anything.

They finished. She handed him a towel to dry his hands.

"Want to play --" She searched for the right word -- "Checkers? I have checkers."

Harry didn't want to play anything, but his mind was still blank on the subject of what he should do now that Lupin had abandoned him in some foreign country, hell knew where, exactly. "Yes. All right." Then he reconsidered. "Can you show me to a bathroom first?"

He wanted to see what Lupin had done to him.

In a minute he was standing in front of a mirror, which was too small to allow him to see all of himself, but was large enough to show him that his eyes were a dim, washed-out shade of their old green and his nose had rearranged itself to be larger and straighter than before. His dad's nose, unmistakably. Aside from these changes, he looked simply like himself. Just younger. Much younger. He wasn't quite sure how old he was supposed to be now; he had always been scrawny and short, and hadn't grown for several years before starting Hogwarts.

He felt his nose with a scowl. He hoped it was reversible. He rather liked his nose the way it had always been, even if it was a little on the up-turned side.

He looked hard at his reflection.

"James --."

He had tried to say 'Harry Potter,' but not only did he get 'James' again, he couldn't make a single sound after it.

He gave up on 'Harry' for the moment.

"James Weasley," he tried out. "James Granger. James Shacklebolt."

So far so good.

"James --. James --, --, --, --!" His mouth didn't even move to shape the sounds.

He huffed in frustration. So, he could say neither 'Harry' nor 'James Potter.' Brilliant.

Then he tried to pair 'Harry' with something other than 'Potter.'

"James Black. Argh!"

Fine. How about an outright lie?

"My name is Neville Longbottom. My name is Viktor Krum."

Brilliant; so he could lie, but not tell the truth.

"Once upon a time, there was an evil wizard who called himself Voldemort. One day, he tried to kill a baby boy named Harry Potter -- All right!"

That small success gave him an idea.

"A boy is standing in front of you. The boy's name is James -- Argh!"

He tried again.

"Once there was a boy named Harry Potter. I am Ja-- Argh!" He smacked his palm against the sink in frustration.

Even if he got back to London and managed to find someone he knew, how in bloody hell was he going to convince anyone he was Harry, if he couldn't say his own bloody name?

He scowled at his reflection again.

This gave him another idea, and wetting his finger in his mouth, he wrote Harry across the glass.

James stared back at him, glistening with spit.

Whatever Lupin had done, it was good.

---

That night, Harry lay on a mattress on the floor -- several other boys were without proper beds as well, so he supposed the orphanage had run short -- and tried to think.

When he had undressed he had found, to his horror, that Lupin had taken both his money and his wand.

No wand. No money.

The Knight Bus was out. Apparating was out. A patronus messenger -- assuming one could go as far as Britain anyway -- was out. How was he going to get back?

He fell asleep with these worrying thoughts, and no solutions, and woke up in the morning with the same nervous, knotted-up feeling in his stomach.

There were no solutions to be found that morning, either. The children's routine was to make their beds, wash up using cold water in basins lined up on a long bench, have breakfast of watery porridge, bread, apples, and milk, and to be marched outdoors, where they worked for hours weeding the large vegetable garden under the increasingly hot sun.

The work was not new to Harry, but he had the sense to pretend it was. He stayed close to Irina, whose pace was slower because of her leg, and whenever the sour-looking man who was watching over them was far enough away, they exchanged snatches of conversation.

"Here is not so bad," Irina said at one time, noticing Harry's scowl. "Many worse places."

Harry nodded. He knew that perfectly well, having grown up in one. At least food seemed to be regularly available, and the other orphans weren't teasing or bullying him. Yet, anyway.

"Is there a telephone here?" He had the idea that he could call someone. Not Hermione -- she was still out of the country with her family, as far as he knew -- but someone.

Irina shook her head, then ducked as the man yelled something their way.

When his attention had turned to two boys at the end of another row, Irina continued. "No telephone. Only in --" She looked like she was thinking hard. "-- Room they go when they want to take one child. Adopt."

"Some kind of office?" Harry prodded, but she didn't have a chance to answer him; a bell was ringing, and the children were putting down their tools and heading back inside, stopping to wash up as best they could under a pump worked by the sour-faced man.

After lunch, the girls were taken away.

"To sew, and stitch, and darn," Irina said on her way past Harry.

He figured that was the girls' chores, patching and mending ripped clothing, and other such tasks.

The boys seemed to have no chores assigned to them, and dispersed quickly, leaving Harry alone in the dormitory, sitting on his mattress.

Now might be a good time to go, if only he knew where to go to, or what to do when he got there.

He tried to think logically.

His first problem was that no one knew where he was. Did they even know he was missing from Grimmauld Place?

Yes, he decided. Someone must know. Lupin had sent their things to Hogwarts....

Unless Lupin had been lying to him even then. If that was the case, the situation was considerably worse. Sometimes days passed between visits or even calls from anyone. And if Lupin returned to Grimmauld Place, there was no telling how long it might be before anyone realized that Harry was not also there.

He had no way of knowing which of these possibilities was the truth.

Assuming they had nothing but the knowledge that Harry was missing, would they be able to find him? He didn't see how. Apparition was not traceable, was it? How many times had they Apparated to get to this place? Harry himself had lost count.

Frustrated, he tackled the next problem. Could he contact someone and let them know where he was? He supposed he could get to a telephone somehow. Whom would he call? It wasn't as thought he had a lot of telephone numbers memorized -- he only knew Hermione's because she had made him memorize it, before it became necessary for her family to leave Britain, making the effort wasted.

He had no means of contacting anyone by magic. Without a wand he really was as helpless as any Muggle child would be in a similar situation. Even with a wand, he wasn't sure what he could do.

The problem, he decided, was that he was here, and here was really far from where he needed to be if he wanted any chance of being found and restored to his normal self.

But he saw no way of getting back to London. He was, after all, just a child -- he really cursed Lupin for this -- and children could not simply take a train across country borders, or hop on a bus, or any of those things.

Even if they had money, which, he reminded himself, he did not. And even if he still had his money bag, it would have been gold Galleons, not anything he could actually spend out here in the Muggle world.

He sighed heavily and resisted the urge to curl up in a ball and cry his eyes out. It was bad enough he looked like a snot-nosed little kid; he didn't have to actually make it true.

Before he knew it, it was dinner time, and then Irina cornered him with her checkers board again.

Lying under his scratchy woolen blanket that night, listening to the sound of dozens of children snoring around him, Harry was grimly aware of it being his second night at the orphanage.

---

He was awake before dawn. Somewhere in the night he had made up his mind.

To do nothing.

Sirius had haunted his dreams again, before giving way to others. He could almost smell the acrid smoke that had hung heavily in the air the night of the attack on the Burrow. He saw Cedric's empty eyes over and over. He heard countless conversations die when he walked into a room.

There was no reason, really, why he should go back. It wasn't safe; not for him and not for anyone around him. Harry knew the Weasleys loved him like he was part of the family, but he could never live with them again, after what had happened. It was for their own good. It was up to him to make this decision, and protect all the people he cared about. Maybe Lupin had done the right thing for all of them by sending Harry away.

It was such a wrenching decision that no amount of logic could make it easier. He thought of Hogwarts, and Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade... and all the brilliant, magical places that had been part of his childhood. He wouldn't miss the Dursleys, but how could he accept never seeing Ron and Hermione, or Luna and Ginny, or Lupin and Mrs. Weasley --

It was too much. His eyes stinging, Harry got out of bed, washed up and dressed, and left the dormitory before anyone else awoke.

He slipped out of the building and sat down on the steps of the back porch, watching the sky lighten slowly.

He would just wait. If they found him and took him back, he would take that as a sign that he belonged in that world still. If not....

He was vaguely aware of the orphanage waking up; the smell of food reached him through an open window. He didn't go in. He figured someone would fetch him when they realized he was missing. Until then, he just wanted to be by himself.

Someone sat down on the step next to him. Irina.

"You are sad." A statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"You miss your friend?"

"Yes."

All of them. The dead ones as well as the living.

Her hand found his.

They sat side by side, not saying anything, watching the sun come up.

Harry looked away first, and studied Irina's face. She was gazing at the sky with a dreamy, far-away expression.

"What happened to your parents?"

Irina blinked and turned to look at him. "Hmm? Oh...." She pointed down at her leg. "No good on farm."

"They're alive?" Harry said incredulously.

"Father, yes. And stepmother. Three sisters. They visit here."

Harry swallowed. How did a little kid accept something like that, and talk about it so calmly?

But he remembered himself at that age, at the Dursleys. He had accepted a lot too.

She smiled at him; an amused little smile at his expression.

"Not very sad," she said. "They visit." Then she sobered. "Your friend left you, too. Maybe best for you?"

Maybe it was.

He shrugged.

She patted his hand. "Come. They yell if we not come to breakfast."

"In a minute," Harry said, sighing. "You go ahead."

She nodded and stood up, leaning on Harry's shoulder for balance, and went inside.

Harry sat for another few minutes, breathing deeply, trying to let go of the hurt inside him. Finally he stood up, letting his gaze travel up the facade of the orphanage.

Home now, maybe.

"Here is not so bad," as Irina had said. He smiled a wobbly smile. Maybe it wasn't. Was it worse that hiding out in Grimmauld Place week after week?

He went inside, following the sounds of children in the dining hall.

His porridge was already cold, and someone had taken his share of fruit and butter, but Harry didn't complain. He wasn't very hungry. Cold porridge and bread was good enough; a seven-course Hogwarts banquet wouldn't fill the void in him just then.

Even in his melancholy, he could help noticing that there was a lot more whispering than there had been at other meals. Children were constantly turning in their seats to look toward the parlor.

Harry looked for himself, but the door was firmly closed; nothing to see.

"What's going on?" he asked Irina, who was ignoring the hubbub in favor of helping a younger child mop up some spilled milk.

"Oh," she said without much interest, "a man is here. Hard to know why when it's only a man."

"Huh?"

She frowned a little. "Parents visit, like my father. Family visits. But not this man. Haven't seen this man before. He is here to adopt, maybe."

"Is that why everyone's so excited?" Harry looked around at the faces of the other orphans. He imagined that adoptions were a rare thing... and he noticed that the older children looked a lot less excited than the younger ones.

"Yes, but hard to know when it's only a man."

"Oh."

"He looked mean," Irina continued. "Like --" She frowned, then held her hands up like claws. "Dracula!"

Harry's spoon slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor.

Irina laughed. "I joke! Dracula is not real. Only in books. Man looks ill, that's all, and wearing funny coat."

Harry groaned.

The dining hall doors swung open and Harry, his heart thudding into the pit of his stomach, twisted around in his seat.

He noticed he was the only one to do so. Quite suddenly, the other orphans were singularly interested in their watery porridge. No one around him seemed to see the black-robed figure stalking down the isle between the tables, heading straight toward Harry.

Snape stopped in front of him, close enough to look down his long nose at him, which he did after sweeping his eyes over the table and the other orphans with a disgusted expression on his sallow face.

Harry felt himself being studied from the toes of his scuffed-up boots to the top of his head.

"Is this meant to be a disguise?"

Harry opened his mouth with an instant retort, but snapped it shut in time. Well, what could he say to that? His appearance wasn't going to fool anyone who knew James Potter as a child, even if the slight changes did manage to confuse those who had known Harry. If anything, Lupin had made him look even more like James. He settled for a rather sullen, "No, sir."

Snape sighed impatiently -- somehow he managed to make it a particularly derisive sound -- and before Harry understood what was happening, waved his wand over the top of Harry's head.

"Hey!"

Snape ignored this. He lifted Harry's glasses off his face and stared at him appraisingly for a long moment. "Worse," he said finally, with another irritable huff.

"Yes," Harry agreed, trying to grab his glasses back. "I can't see!"

The glasses were given back to him. He put them on and gingerly felt his face, but it was hard to tell what Snape might have done.

"I have not changed your appearance," Snape said, again looking down at him as though Harry were a worm. "I was merely attempting to determine the spells used by that worthless lunatic."

He spat the words out with such distaste that Harry instantly felt a throb of fear for Lupin.

"Is Lupin all right?"

Snape's nostrils flared. "If it were me, I wouldn't care."

"Well, it's me, and I do care," Harry said indignantly, losing hold of his temper. "Is he all right?"

"No," Snape said shortly.

Harry's mouth gaped.

Snape, however, moved on. "I have wasted enough of my time tracking you down. Now, you tell me, what is to be done with you?" And he again gave Harry the look that made him feel like worm guts.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feeling that the question was either in jest and at his expense, or was completely unfair. "What are the options?"

"It was intended," Snape said coolly, "that I take you back to Britain. However, now that I know he didn't leave you by the side of the road, I am inclined to consider the possibility of leaving you where you are."

Harry swallowed. It was the same thought he'd had himself, but it was quite different to have it become a reality. Suddenly, he was glad it was Snape who had come. He didn't want to hear the same words from someone he cared about.

Snape apparently felt he had waited too long for an answer, because he continued. "I will allow that this is hardly a palace, but you have very little to go back to. Should you decide to stay, I believe you would be safe here. There's a school of magic not far from here that accepts children of thirteen. This gives you two or three years to learn the language and customs of this country." He paused. "You could lead a normal life here."

Normal. Right. Take a good look around, Snape.

Harry had to swallow several times before he could squeeze out, "And if I want to go back?"

Snape didn't say anything, just reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a torn page from the Daily Prophet.

It was just the top headline, but it was more than enough.

TRAITOR TO THE WIZARDING WORLD
Wizengamot proclaims Harry Potter Guilty of Darkest Magic

Underneath was a picture of him, framed on either side by a sketch of the Veil in the Department of Ministries and a photograph showing several smooth, oval stones etched with symbols Harry didn't recognize.

Harry tore his eyes away from the page and looked up at Snape. "What did I do?"

Snape looked as though he was considering answering, and then seemed to think better of it after all. "It doesn't matter. I showed you this because this is what you can expect should you decide to go back."

There was nothing to say to that.

"If you decide to go back, you would have to stay as you are now. As your normal self, you would be hunted down and killed, probably along with anyone foolish enough to shelter you. If you --"

"Then," Harry interrupted, his voice coming out strangled, "I don't want to go back. No one should have to be in danger because of me."

"As I was saying," Snape continued deliberately, as though Harry hadn't interrupted, "if you remain as you are now, you would most likely be as safe as any other child is at the moment." He looked at Harry darkly. "I need not tell you that this is not a guarantee that you will, in fact, be safe."

"I get it," Harry said. His throat was still constricted, and he didn't think he could say again what he needed to say. He wished Snape would just leave.

Snape ignored him. "Very few people are in position to take in a child right now. For the few who are, there are more than enough orphans to go around. You would not be among friends. If you harbor any hope that Molly Weasley would take you in --"

"No," Harry cut in forcefully. "I wouldn't let her, anyway. I've done enough to that family."

For a moment, he thought he saw a fleeting look on Snape's face. It was almost akin to pity.

But he must have imagined it, because Snape ignored his outburst again.

"Neither is Lupin in any position to help you. Nor McGonagall, nor any others still on staff at Hogwarts. You would be friendless, and reliant upon the charity and good will of those who choose to risk taking you in."

"Did you not hear me?" Harry exploded. "I don't want to put anyone in danger! Just leave me here!"

Snape was silent for a long time. Long enough for Harry to start thinking unreasonable thoughts.

"Do you want to take me back for some reason?"

Snape looked away. "If it were up to me...."

"You just said those were my options! Are you saying that I have to go back?"

"No. I'm saying..." Snape looked sour, his mouth thinning. "Lupin has paid for your return. Paid me, personally, that I should take you if he were unable." He glared at Harry, as though it had been Harry's own idea. "I should have known then that he was up to something. It was right after that mutt of a godfather of yours got himself killed. He asked me what I wanted in exchange for my promise to become your guardian if none other was available. As he had recently helped me out of a difficulty, I had no choice but to make the bargain. I asked for ten vials of dragon's blood and a book I thought to have been destroyed years ago, feeling safe in the knowledge that he would never be able to deliver."

Harry understood the glare now. The money for both items had come from the Potter vault, not Lupin's own. "It doesn't matter, because I'm not going back with you," he said bravely.

"Very well," Snape said, with what Harry took to be a sigh of relief. "If that is your decision."

"It is," Harry said before his throat closed up completely.

Snape looked closely at him. "You will have to make a clean break. You will not attempt to contact anyone who knew you as Harry Potter, and you will not turn up in any place where someone might recognize you. While there are a few other spells I can use to change your appearance, there is a risk of such changes being obvious to those who are powerful enough. Your appearance will remain too similar for comfort."

Harry nodded. It was all he could do.

"Give me the ring. You will not be needing it."

Harry slipped the ring from his finger, looking at its vibrant green one last time. He guessed that without it, his eyes could not be returned to their original color.

Snape pocketed the ring, and then tapped Harry's head with his wand. "Grow your hair out until it's over your ears. It should be enough of a change, and a natural one."

Harry nodded again. Snape was turning to go... if he wanted to change his mind, he needed to say something now....

But he did not say a word, and Snape, his robes swishing around the heels of his black boots, walked out of the dining hall without a backwards glance.

---

Harry sank into his seat, his legs no longer able to hold him.

The thought hit him quite suddenly.

It wasn't that he hadn't taken it in, but seeing his own name in the headline had muddled his reasoning.

They were blaming him for something he hadn't done. But Lupin had. Whatever they thought Harry had done -- and it seemed to have to do with the Veil -- Lupin had done.

And Snape had told him with no hesitation that Lupin was not all right.

Harry knew he could never make a clean break if he didn't know.

With that knowledge, he was running, skidding on a rug, pulling open the heavy front door --

The bright sunshine blinded him for a moment as he looked wildly around the empty front yard.

Too late.

Too late.

"Changed your mind?"

Harry whirled, and there was Snape, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, as though he had expected Harry to do just that.

"No -- I mean, I --"

"Well?"

"I need to know what happened to Lupin."

"Always thinking of others last, aren't you?" Snape said cruelly.

"I need to know."

Snape paused for a drawn-out moment. "He was caught."

"Is he still alive?"

"Not for much longer."

Harry shook his head, less in disbelief than from a need to disallow the thought from fully settling into his brain. "Isn't anyone planning to help him? The Order?"

"The Order --" Snape sneered, "-- if the few of us who are still left can still carry that title, has enough on its hands. Lupin got himself into this. We would lose more good people if we attempted to break him out. And then what?" he spat viciously. "Am I to hide him and you? Am I to take that kind of risk?"

"You... you'd let him die," Harry said, still shaking his head, unable to stop. His eyes burned. "You'd --"

"A lot of people have died," Snape said bitterly. "More will die before this is over. Lupin isn't expecting rescue."

"That makes it all right?"

He was unprepared for Snape to snarl at him, and stumbled backwards as Snape brought his suddenly livid face within inches of Harry's.

"You think it's all right to demand this of me? You think I should risk my life for you and your worthless friends? Can I expect your undying gratitude?" He narrowed his eyes. "I don't think so. I know exactly what I can expect -- endless disobedience, disrespect, and disregard for my safety and your own. If it were just you, Merlin help me, I would do it, but there's a limit to my generosity!"

Finished, he straightened, breathing hard and his lips a thin line, clearly finding it a struggle to reel in his rage.

Harry stared at him.

He knew it was useless, but he couldn't help himself.

"Maybe... someone else would take him. I mean, if it's just to keep anyone from finding him --"

Snape turned his black eyes back to Harry. "There is no one else. No one who wants a werewolf living in their cellar indefinitely. No one who's willing to get that werewolf out of an Azkaban cell first. No one who's good enough to pull it off even if they were willing."

"You are," Harry said stubbornly. He knew perfectly well it was useless.

Snape looked off into the distance, and didn't reply.

"If it was you," Harry continued accusingly, "wouldn't you want someone to come for you? Oh, wait... he did."

A muscle tightened in Snape's jaw.

Harry waited. There wasn't anything else he could think to say.

"If you must know," Snape said grimly, "a rescue is planned. I wasn't going to get involved... Damn fools, can't leave well enough alone... The lot of them are marching off to the slaughter."

Harry's heart soared and fell. A rescue meant hope, but Snape was right -- it also meant lives on the line. Who was close enough to Lupin to want to help him in spite of the danger?

"If I take you back..."

Harry looked up. What was Snape saying?

"I expect unwaivering obedience. You will not whine. You will not throw fits. You will cooperate."

Despite the hard tone, Harry could see Snape did not expect any such thing to happen.

He wanted to promise he would do all of those things, but he knew Snape thought too little of him to believe it.

"Come along," Snape said at last. Without waiting for Harry to comply, he started down the porch steps.

Harry trailed after him, throwing just one last look over his shoulder at the place that had almost been home.

"I knew you wouldn't stick to it," Snape commented. "Too fickle-minded and weak-willed."

Harry chose not to say anything, but at that moment, despite knowing that going back would put him and others in terrible danger, he was overwhelmed by inexplicable joy. He was going back, whether he belonged or not.

"I suppose you think that was a compliment?" Snape sneered, obviously mistaking Harry's grin as having something to do with his last words.

Harry shook his head. No, it hadn't been one, but he was glad Snape thought that of him, and had waited, sure that Harry would change his mind.

---

They Apparated again and again. Snape's hold on Harry was painful.

Harry looked blearily around. The room was a mess, and the rug stained with what he took to be blood.

"Whose house is this?"

Snape didn't answer him; he was already at the fireplace, taking down a pot of Floo powder.

A dizzying minute later they were in the Hogwarts infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey was already hurrying toward them by the time Harry picked himself up off the floor; Snape's hold on his arm had lasted only until their arrival, and he had allowed Harry to stumble and fall. Worse, at some point he had taken Harry's glasses, and the familiar room was blurred.

"Another one, Severus?" Pomfrey asked. She sounded a little hysterical. "Kingsley brought in four not an hour ago...."

"This one is not hurt," Snape told her, "but will need to be questioned. Where is Minerva?"

"In there," Pomfrey said, motioning toward a door. "If you don't need me, I have patients to get back to."

"Go ahead."

She paused. "We're low on Dreamless Sleep again."

"I have some in my stores. Help yourself."

"Thank you. I take it you will be leaving again shortly?"

Snape shrugged noncommittally. "The potions are there. Use them."

She thanked him again and hurried away.

"Come along," Snape said, taking Harry by the elbow and steering him toward a door.

"I can't see," Harry muttered mutinously. It really was very disconcerting to have to trust Snape this way.

"Be quiet."

McGonagall was at a table, folding clean towels and sheets. She looked up tiredly as they came in, her wand still raised in a half-completed swish. "Severus?" She frowned, looking at Harry. "Is that...?"

"Yes," Snape said, returning Harry's glasses.

McGonagall sighed, and a sudden smile broke over her tired face. "You found him. Thank God."

Snape scowled. Harry could see he didn't think God had had much to do with it.

"You just missed Kingsley." McGonagall leaned heavily against the table, her shoulders stooped. Her hair was matted on one side, as though her last sleep had been cut short and she'd not had the chance to freshen up. "He had some news --" She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "They're getting ready."

"I see. I should catch up with him, then."

She looked surprised. "Have you changed your mind?"

Snape pretended not to have heard the question. "If you could do something about his glasses, the boy could join the other children. Or maybe make himself useful --" He glared at Harry. "Though I doubt he will be anything but in the way."

Harry waited patiently while McGonagall looked him over.

"The glasses must go," she said at last. "They're a dead giveaway."

"I will be needing them, in any case," Snape said.

McGonagall looked at him shrewdly. "I won't ask what you have planned. Take them now."

Harry sighed glumly as his glasses were removed again.

"Ask Poppy for a new pair," McGonagall told Snape. "I can adjust the prescription myself and then we will see about a disguise or disillusionment of some sort."

Snape left the room.

"Oh, Harry." Harry found himself suddenly enveloped in a bony hug. "You don't know how worried we've all been." She pulled away and held him at arm's length. "Now, have you come up with a new name for yourself? The greatest danger is for you to give yourself away accidentally."

"Lupin's done it. Some kind of spell. I can't say my real name even if I want to."

She smiled weakly. "That's one less thing to worry about, then. What's the name?"

Harry sighed. No escaping it. "James."

She stared at him blankly for a moment. "Oh dear. I had thought Remus had more sense. This is quite unfortunate...."

"What's unfortunate?" asked Snape, who had returned, carrying a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles similar to the ones McGonagall herself wore.

McGonagall looked at Harry, and then reluctantly at Snape again. She took the glasses, and after a wave of her wand slipped them onto Harry's nose. "His name."

"Well? What about it?" Snape demanded irritably. He turned on Harry. "Say your name, Potter."

It was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but with Snape now glaring at him for his hesitation, he didn't see much choice. "James," he said with resignation.

Snape visibly recoiled.

"It's not my fault!" Harry said quickly.

"Unfortunately," McGonagall said with obvious reluctance, "these spells are not my area of expertise."

"Nor mine," Snape said. Harry thought he was more pale than normal.

"It will have to do," McGonagall said helplessly. "What a terrible choice."

Snape looked like he agreed, but said nothing. He seemed to be clenching his teeth.

There was a short silence before McGonagall apparently decided that nothing more could be done. "Well, let's take a look at these glasses."

Harry found himself in front of a mirror.

The combination of Lupin's changes and Snape's had resulted in a look that was at least a slight departure from James. His hair was longer, or possibly just appeared that way because it had been straightened.

McGonagall tried out several spells, each of which Snape rejected as too easy to detect. Finally....

"I look like I'm wearing eyeliner," Harry protested.

"Hmm," said Snape, rubbing his chin.

"Not bad, and can't be detected for what it is. Children these days are prey to many odd fashion notions."

"I agree; very subtle."

Harry looked from one to the other and tried not to scowl. They were helping him, and he was determined to cooperate since it was for his protection.

They were satisfied at last.

"I want him in my quarters for the night, should I fail to return by then," Snape told McGonagall. "I expect you'll manage if...?"

Harry felt a shudder go through him as he realized what they were discussing.

"I expect so." McGonagall's eyes looked watery, and she put her hand suddenly on Snape's shoulder. "But you will be coming back, of course."

"I will do what I can, as I always have."

And without a look at Harry, Snape walked out the door.

McGonagall sat down on a footstool and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked tentatively when she hadn't moved after a few moments.

She shocked him by laughing shrilly.

When she stopped, she shook her head. "No. I'm afraid none of us are all right these days." She stood up and went back to the task of folding endless stacks of white towels and sheets. "Go on out. There are other children here, and you will stand out less if you're among them."

Harry moved to the door, but stopped. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded, not looking up.

"Me being here... is it likely going to get people killed?"

She rubbed her eyes wearily. "People are being killed with or without you here."

"Is it true Professor Snape is being forced to become my guardian?"

McGonagall looked up this time. Something of her old piercing gaze returned as she looked at Harry. "I'm afraid there isn't much choice in the matter... so few of us left... and I dare say it will be a dreadful mess. Professor Snape never should have been asked to do this..." She shook her head, lips pursed. "But there is no choice."

Harry nodded, and, when she didn't say anything more, slipped out the door.

Snape was still in the infirmary, apparently held up by Madam Pomfrey. He was examining a glass jar filled with reddish liquid.

Harry, not knowing where else to go, started to move toward him.

"Out of the way, please, little boy," a familiar drawl said from behind him.

Harry spun around, and there was Malfoy, carrying an armload of blankets.

He would have gaped, but a hand closed rather painfully on his shoulder. Snape's voice hissed, "Do anything to reveal yourself and I'll throw you to the Dementors myself. Now sit," into his ear, and he was pushed toward an unoccupied hospital bed.

He climbed onto it, trying hard not to look at Malfoy again, even when Malfoy dropped the pile of blankets on the bed next to him.

"Draco. A word," Snape said, beckoning him over. "I've spoken to your father. He needs your decision."

Harry saw Malfoy swallow hard.

"I haven't made up my mind. No, don't tell him that. Tell him I'm busy here, and can't get away."

"You will need to make up your mind. It's a simple decision. Stay or go."

Malfoy scowled. "I stay, and I probably die. I go, and I can never come back. It's not simple. He wants it to be simple, when it's not."

Snape didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at Malfoy with an unreadable expression. "He's your father."

Malfoy sighed. "And that's why I'll go, and you know that."

"I know," Snape said quietly.

To Harry's shock, Malfoy launched himself at Snape, burying his head in Snape's shoulder.

"You'll be fine," Snape said after tolerating the embrace for a minute. He pushed Malfoy away gently. "You made it this far."

Malfoy rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.

"I'm leaving now, and I may not be back before you go. If that's the case, I wish you a speedy and safe journey."

Malfoy stared after Snape bleakly, his hand still raised in a parting gesture, until the doors had shut behind him.

Harry jumped down from the bed and hurried in the opposite direction.

The hospital wing was not as crowded as had been his first impression, but he still carefully avoided the adults in the room. No one paid any attention to him; everyone who was there was either injured or sitting by the bedside of someone who was. A few older Hogwarts students, like Malfoy, were carrying things at Pomfrey's order. Harry thought he recognized a Hufflepuff sixth year who was refilling water jugs, and avoided her, too.

He wanted to help, but he didn't want to run into Malfoy again, or anyone else who might know him. Besides, he didn't see any other young children helping out, and he reminded himself that he needed to fit in. He saw a group of children in a corner, playing with what looked like Muggle marbles, and joined them, sitting on the side and watching them.

It gave him a chance to think, at least.

Being back at Hogwarts -- closed though it was -- filled him with a feeling of belonging, as though he had truly come home. For the first time, he considered what it might be like to go through his school years all over again, as he might have to do if Snape was serious about Harry having to remain a child for the foreseeable future.

Then again, chances are he would be returned to his normal age and would have to go into hiding with Lupin again.

If Snape saved Lupin.

It was torture to not know what Snape's intentions were. Harry was trying hard not to think about it. If Snape wouldn't do it, there were still the other Order members. Snape had said that a rescue was planned despite Snape's unwillingness to personally get involved.

He wondered, too, if Snape really would have left him at the orphanage, or if it had been a ploy to make Harry think he had a choice when he really didn't. What for, except to be able to remind him it had been his choice to return to the wizarding world?

He didn't see Snape bearing down on him until Snape was standing over him, looking displeased.

Harry scrambled to his feet.

"You might exercise some vigilance," Snape growled as Harry tried to keep up with him as they left the hospital wing, heading for the dungeons.

Harry couldn't bear not knowing. "Lupin?"

Snape whirled on him, hissing, "Shut up, you idiot!"

Harry hunched his shoulders. "Sorry."

They were in Snape's office, where Snape dropped several envelopes onto his desk before taking off his heavy traveling cloak. He seemed to be ignoring Harry deliberately.

Harry looked around. The familiar office was more cluttered than usual, with empty potions jars and bottles littering every available surface.

With a jolt, he saw two boxes in a corner.

His things, and Lupin's books.

He had to restrain himself.

Snape sat down at his desk and began to sort through a tall stack of unopened letters and rolls of parchment.

"Sit."

Harry moved a crate of empty glass jars off the bench in front of Snape's desk, making enough room to perch uncomfortably on the edge.

He was just beginning to think that Snape had forgotten he was there -- Snape swore upon opening a particularly fat letter and was now writing a response that spanned two feet of parchment -- when the door opened and McGonagall came in.

"Poppy told me you were back," she said when Snape raised his head with a scowl. "Has something gone wrong?"

"The Ministry is a bit busy at the moment. You will know soon enough; for now it's safer that you don't. Meanwhile, the execution has been postponed until morning."

Execution. Harry swallowed hard.

"I see," McGonagall said faintly. "That does complicate matters."

"Yes. We will have a devil of a time getting in there now, and we've lost Kingsley... he has no business at the Ministry at that time of day. We had to bring Tonks in on it." Snape grimaced. "I have very little confidence in this plan's chances of success."

"But you'll still try?" Harry couldn't help exclaiming.

Snape sent a glare his way. "Yes, Potter, the suicide mission is still on."

"Now, Severus..." McGonagall began, but cut herself off with a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "We'll have to do something about his name, Severus. You wouldn't want to call him 'Potter', and I fear the temptation will be great."

Snape considered this while fixing another glare on Harry. "I'll take care of it. Did Lupin saddle him with an equally disagreeable surname?"

Harry shook his head, even though the question was for McGonagall.

"No, just the first."

Snape shuffled some papers and consulted what looked like a long list of names and dates.

"McKenna. Listed as missing, but we know them to be dead."

"We still have access to family records?"

"Yes," Snape said, putting the parchment down. "I'll make the changes."

"In that case, I --"

She didn't get to finish. The door burst open and Pomfrey, red-faced and completely out of breath, stumbled in.

"Minerva -- oh, God..."

Both McGonagall and Snape were on their feet, McGonagall grabbing the nurse under an elbow to prevent her from collapsing. "What is it, Poppy?"

"It's... it's Harry Potter." Pomfrey's face twisted in pain. "They got him -- oh, Minerva, they got him!"

McGonagall's face went stark, and she threw a glance over her shoulder at Snape, who had visibly relaxed and was putting away his wand, even as she enveloped the nurse in a comforting embrace.

"What happened, Poppy?" McGonagall asked, lowering a weeping Pomfrey onto the bench Harry had quickly vacated.

Pomfrey blew her nose on the handkerchief Snape had handed her. "It... it was on the wireless only moments ago. Aurors hunted him down... They said... the body could barely be identified when it was brought to St. Mungo's." She blew her nose again. "But it's him. They know, because of his glasses and his wand." She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Snapped! The same wand that ended You-Know-Who...."

Harry's stomach contracted painfully. His wand had been snapped?

"Poppy... Poppy, are you saying he's dead?"

"Yes! Dead, the poor dear!" Pomfrey dissolved into loud sobs.

He now understood the exchange between Snape and McGonagall earlier. Snape had taken his glasses... Snape had somehow faked Harry's death... the Order still had members who were active Aurors....

He felt terrible. How many people would believe he was dead? It was one thing to go into hiding, and quite another to cause this much pain to others for the sake of keeping himself safe. If Pomfrey, whom he had never thought of as more than just the school's nurse, was affected like this....

Snape had apparently had enough; motioning Harry to follow him, he left the office, leaving McGonagall to handle the unpleasant scene.

They were deeper in the dungeons now, and Snape stopped before an empty section of damp stone wall, muttered a password, and stepped through a door that appeared and swung open silently in front of them.

Harry followed, and the door closed behind him.

He was in Snape's personal quarters. It was cold and sparsely furnished, though just as cluttered as the office had been. Dirty cauldrons were piled against the walls, while most of the space was taken up by what appeared to be a hastily-assembled potions laboratory. A single cauldron still simmered over a low flame.

Snape checked the potion, stirred it a few times, and frowned. He added a spoonful yellow powder from a jar, causing the potion to boil furiously for a few moments.

"You faked my death."

Snape looked up, one eyebrow slightly raised. "I did."

"Whose body was it?"

"A Muggle. Dementor attacks have been as common as ever. I had no trouble picking out one fitting your description."

Harry shuddered. What he heard between the lines was that the Muggle had still been alive. Devoid of his soul, but still living. Had Snape dealt the deadly blow?

Snape seemed to be quite satisfied with himself, and continued. "Aside from having to involve that klutz Tonks as a decoy, it can be counted among my best work. Auror Jones -- a Death Eater still escaping detection -- was first on the scene. Congratulations, Potter, you died a heroic death after all."

Harry scowled at him. He didn't see anything amusing in the situation.

"With both your glasses and your wand found on the body, I expect the case will be closed quickly."

"Does anyone else know I'm still alive?"

"Safer that they don't."

Harry nodded glumly.

"Look at me, Potter."

Harry looked up. Snape's expression was hard. "I know what you're thinking. No, you will not make any effort to inform your friends."

"I wasn't going --"

"In fact," Snape continued, louder, "you will not attempt to contact them for any reason whatsoever."

"I get it, all right? I won't put them in danger."

Snape's face flashed with anger. "You won't put me in danger, Potter, or the next body to be found --"

"Will be mine. I get it," Harry muttered.

This seemed to make Snape even angrier, and Harry realized he had already managed to disobey Snape's demand that he be respectful and not throw fits.

"Sorry, sir. That was rude."

As expected, this did nothing to appease Snape. He began to clear off the cluttered table with vicious vigor.

It wasn't until he saw Snape glance at the clock that Harry wondered if Snape was more worried about the rescue mission than he had revealed in his office.

"Professor?"

"What?" Snape snapped at him, stopping what he was doing to glare directly at him.

"Will you be able to get Lupin out?"

"If those useless fools do their part and let me do mine."

There was a knock at the door.

"Open it," Snape told Harry.

Harry let McGonagall in.

"I've managed to calm Poppy enough that she's able to return to work," she told Snape with a slightly reproachful look, which Snape ignored. "I came to see if you will be joining us in the Great Hall."

"No, I won't be. But take Potter."

"Do work on that spell, Severus," McGonagall said firmly. "Now, do you need anything from me? Anything I can help with?"

"No," Snape said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking sour. "Unless you would like to tell me how I came to agree to this?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm afraid I'm still not sure myself. Well, if you're sure you don't need anything, I should go back up. I'm sure the news has upset a lot of people."

"Just as many will be happy to hear that the Ministry has eliminated another perceived threat."

McGonagall's eyes flashed. "No reasonable person believed those vicious lies. I'm more concerned about the boost this will undoubtedly give the Death Eaters. The demise of Harry Potter will surely be seen as a blow to our side."

"I doubt it. Most of the attacks have been perpetrated either to exact revenge or in the hopes of getting to Potter. It could just as easily take the heat off those thought likely to be harboring him."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "What's done is done. I don't doubt the job was thorough, and I for one will be glad not to have to worry about the Ministry coming down on us, as well as Death Eaters." She turned to go, but paused before taking more than a few steps. "Be careful, Severus. We can't afford more loses... and I have buried enough friends. Come along, James."

It took Harry a moment to realize she meant him, and he trotted after her, trying not to look at Snape, whose face had contorted into an ugly grimace.

In the corridor, she slowed down so that he could keep up.

"I hope you realize what a difficult position he has put himself in."

Harry tried to look properly grateful, and nodded, but he wasn't sure he really understood. He knew Snape was putting himself in danger by harboring him, and would put himself in greater danger still by attempting to get Lupin out of Azkaban, but Snape had always been in danger from one thing or another. They all had been. Of course... Snape didn't want him, or care very much what happened to him. Having to put up with Harry must have been the last thing Snape wanted to do. And Harry knew Snape hated Lupin just about nearly as much as he hated Harry.

"Professor? What's going to happen to me?"

She stopped abruptly, and Harry almost bumped into her.

"I mean," he said quickly, "I thought I'd be going into hiding with Lupin again --"

"No, no; that would never work now," McGonagall said, shaking her head and starting off again toward the dungeon stairs. "You'll stay here, all of you."

So Snape really was going to hide both of them. Harry sighed.

"And be grateful," McGonagall added irritably. "I can't begin to understand why he agreed to do this, honestly. All that bad blood... all that bad history...."

They had reached the entrance hall, and Harry didn't have a chance to ask any more questions.

He had been worried about having dinner among so many people, but McGonagall left him at a table set for the younger children. Harry found himself relaxing and even enjoying the food. It had been a while since he'd had a truly good meal.

The children talked in subdued tones, and Harry listened in. There were sad stories all around. Some didn't know where their families were. Some were at Hogwarts because someone in their family was injured. Some -- from either side of the fighting -- were there because there was no other place for them to go. A few had been brought by parents who didn't know how else to protect them. Even those who had been relatively lucky had suffered being uprooted from homes destroyed or unsafe to return to.

For the very first time ever, Harry felt a sort of ugly gladness that his parents had died while he was too young to know them. He wouldn't know the pain of losing them in this war, like some of these children had lost their parents. He had lost Sirius, and that had been almost too much for him.

It was too much. He knew none of the children around him would ever be the same, just like he would never be same again.

He had only one moment of panic, when a girl sitting next to him asked what had happened to him.

The McKenna family -- what had Snape said? Listed as missing.

That's what he told her, and was glad when she didn't ask for details. He would have to find out who those people had been, if he was going to be pretending they were his family.

---

McGonagall took him back to the dungeons after dinner was over.

Snape barely looked up, busy tending six cauldrons that boiled and steamed. "Sit down, Mr. McKenna, and do not touch anything."

Harry guessed by the way Snape's lip curled over the name that he was really saying 'Potter.' He sat down on the only relatively empty chair, though he had to shift a box of stained rags to the floor first.

McGonagall looked approvingly at Snape. "I see you found a spell you could use, Severus... that's a load off my mind, truly. I would have hated to have to bring in Filius. The fewer people who know --"

"The better," Snape finished with her. "Yes. I admit it isn't working quite as well as I would like. Obviously I cannot outright prevent myself from saying the name Harry Potter, which would have been the simpler method. Intent spells are tricky by nature. I will still have to be cautious."

"I have no doubt you will be. Choosing your words carefully is not a foreign notion to you. If you keep your temper in check, we will get through this yet."

Snape scowled. Harry figured if Snape's ability to keep his temper was the only thing keeping them from being discovered by the Ministry, they were all doomed.

"I will leave you to your work," McGonagall said. She hesitated by the door. "Should I not see you again before you leave... good luck and God speed to you." She turned to Harry, and he saw that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "James, mind Professor Snape, and come and find me if you need anything."

The door had barely closed behind her when Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry and said, "You will not run to McGonagall for anything, is that understood? She has no reason to take a greater interest in a child under my care than she takes in any of the other children staying at Hogwarts. Undue familiarity will only draw attention to you."

"I won't, sir," Harry said, not seeing any reason to fight.

Snape turned back to his potions, one of which had almost boiled over. "There are some cleaning supplies in the cabinet behind you. Start scrubbing cauldrons."

Harry almost demanded to know what he had done, before realizing it wasn't a punishment. Snape needed those cauldrons to make potions that would be used to treat patients in the hospital wing.

"Yes, sir," he said, and set to the long and dull task.

He hated scrubbing cauldrons more than anything. It reminded him of chores he'd had to do at the Dursleys, like washing greasy pots and pans, scrubbing the kitchen floor, polishing the stair railing and the silver... the list was endless.

His arms went from aching to numb and heavy before he had made much progress. Still, it kept Snape off his back and he felt like he was doing something useful. It had occurred to him that Snape must have taken considerable time away from his potions in order to find Harry and fetch him from the orphanage.

It seemed to him that time was passing rather slowly, but suddenly Snape was depositing more filthy cauldrons on top of the stack Harry had yet to get to, and taking his traveling cloak down from the coat rack.

Harry scrambled to his feet. "Are you leaving?"

"I agreed to meet with Shacklebolt early, since our plans have changed drastically. Supper will be sent down for you, so you will have no reason to leave my quarters. I don't expect to be back before mid-morning... if I'm back at all."

A shiver raced down Harry's spine.

"Do not meddle with my potions or ingredients, and do not enter my bedroom."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Snape drew a breath and held it for a long time before letting it out slowly. "I expect it's useless to remind you of our agreement. However, I will ask you to keep one thing in mind."

Harry looked up, waiting. He didn't tell Snape that he hadn't forgotten what they'd agreed to, and that he was trying. That would be useless; Snape would never believe it.

"I have agreed to take on this thankless and unpalatable task, for reasons that I do not care to share with you. If you choose to be your usual uncooperative, disobedient self, it is most likely that we will all end up dead or in Azkaban." He looked down at Harry with glittering, hard eyes. "There is no one left to come to our rescue should that happen."

"I understand," Harry said, swallowing. "I get it. I won't do anything to put anyone in danger. I'll be cooperative, if you'll tell me what to do, and not just expect me to know, somehow."

"That hasn't worked very well in the past," Snape said with irritation. "Your response to being told to do something has tended to be to do the opposite, or to go on doing just what you wanted in your usual bullheaded way."

Harry figured it really was useless. He sighed heavily and tried not to let his temper show. "I'm trying to change that, sir."

Snape hesitated. Harry was surprised he considered Harry's words for even a second. "This isn't a game. Trying might not be good enough."

Harry knew it wasn't a game. People he cared about had died. Were still dying. Sometimes because of something Harry had done, or hadn't done well enough, or just because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He looked down at the floor and didn't reply.

Snape caught him under the chin and forced his head up. Harry had no choice but to look at him. "I'm telling you this because I find myself faced with the possibility of being unable to control this situation."

Harry frowned. Snape made it sound like he wasn't up to the job. Which, Harry realized, could very well be true, if there really hadn't been anyone else who could, or would, take it on.

"Are you listening?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"It could very well turn out that you have more control than I."

Harry had no idea what Snape was talking about, but he nodded again, and Snape let him go.

"Stay inside and don't open the door for anyone, including Pomfrey and McGonagall."

Harry watched Snape go, wishing he could say something, anything, other than the feeble "Good luck, sir," that he didn't think Snape had heard.

If Snape saved Lupin, Harry would do anything -- and he didn't need Snape to believe it for it to be true.

He went back to the cauldrons, because Snape hadn't said he could stop scrubbing now that he was by himself, and because it was the only thing he could think of to do to keep himself busy. He knew with perfect certainty that he wouldn't be sleeping that night. Not until he knew if the rescue had succeeded.

It had to.

Like McGonagall had said, they had lost too many good people, buried too many friends, and they just couldn't afford to lose anyone else.

He looked at the cauldrons, and at the table that Snape had left clean but ready to resume potions making. A single small cauldron still simmered over a low flame at one end.

They couldn't afford to lose Snape. St. Mungo's had been useless for months, and the simplest potions took days to arrive by owl. People depended on Snape.

He scrubbed harder, and ignored the creeping hands of the clock and the weariness slowly creeping over his body.

He wouldn't rest.

Not until he knew.

Harry woke with a start.

Disoriented, he looked around the room, trying to remember where he was and why.

It all came rushing back, and he leaped off the divan, incredulous that he had fallen asleep after all.

What had woken him became quickly apparent -- the potion Snape had left simmering was making loud popping noises as it frothed and spat red flecks up out of the cauldron.

Harry approached it cautiously.

Maybe the fire hadn't been left low enough. Snape had been preoccupied.

Or maybe it needed to be stirred. There was a long-handled spoon lying next to the cauldron, and Harry recalled seeing Snape use it on this potion. He even remembered which way Snape had stirred. Clockwise.

He hesitated. The potion spat a glob onto the table, and it sizzled, turning from red to nearly black as it cooled.

He reached for the ladle and tried to get near the cauldron without getting spattered.

Maybe you shouldn't touch it.

The thought occurred to him just as he was about to lower the ladle into the cauldron.

Snape had told him not to touch anything. Those were very clear directions.

On the other hand, the potion was probably very important. Someone probably needed it desperately, and it seemed like it took a long time to make, if Snape had left it overnight.

Besides, stirring a potion couldn't hurt it.

What would you know?

Harry dropped the ladle back on the table.

Right. Just step away.

The potion boiled angrily and spat more gooey globs onto the table.

He turned his back on it.

He walked back to the divan and sat down.

Snape was right. He did have trouble doing what he was told. Even simple things.

Why was that?

Fine, let the potion be ruined, if that's what was going to happen.

He glanced at the clock; it was early morning. Too early for there to be any news. Too early to be up, really.

Except that he hadn't meant to sleep at all. After finishing with the cauldrons, he had tried to read a book, but he must have got too comfortable....

He picked at the cold scraps left over from supper -- he hadn't been very hungry then -- and tried to think of something useful he could occupy himself with.

Anything, to keep from thinking about Snape and whether he'd been successful or not.

He got up and walked slowly through the rooms he was allowed into.

There was the main room, with the work table and not much else. The bookshelf had some interesting books, but Harry wasn't in the mood to read any more.

The library was small and dusty and cramped, with bookcases against every wall, tall enough to touch the ceiling high above Harry's head. The books -- the ones whose titles he could read, anyway -- were mostly about Potions and the Dark Arts.

He noticed one shelf where the dust had been disturbed, and took a closer look. Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration, mostly. He took down one book that seemed to have been moved recently. It was a thick book with a soft leather cover, and it fell open in his hands. He couldn't read it, because it was written in an unfamiliar language, but the illustration was the same one he had seen earlier in the Daily Prophet. The same carved stones, except the symbols were different. There was a human skull pictured on the opposite page. Harry flipped through the book, and shuddered at some of the more violent and gruesome illustrations, but without being able to read the words it made no sense to him. He put it back.

There were several storage cupboards and one room that might have been meant to be a kitchen, but was being used for storage as well. Creatures that looked like two-headed tadpoles with forked tails swam in murky water in the sink.

Snape had not pointed out which of the doors led to his bedroom, but only one door wouldn't open when Harry tried the knob. He wondered irritably how Snape thought he would get in, even if he wanted to disobey, if the door was kept locked.

The other doors led to a marble-tiled bathroom with ornate fixtures and mirrors that made Harry's face long and skinny; an empty, filthy cellar at the end of a short flight of stairs, with a damp dirt floor, low ceiling, and thick cobwebs in every corner; and a large room that was empty except for some packing boxes, several melted or damaged cauldrons, and a broken footstool.

Harry wondered why Snape chose to live this way, or if all of this was a recent development. No one had time to keep up good housekeeping during a war, but Harry thought things shouldn't have reached such a state of decrepitude at Hogwarts. It seemed almost as if Snape didn't allow the house-elves in to clean.

The screech of an owl sent him running.

The only window in the place was a narrow, grimy one up near the ceiling. It was cracked open, and Harry could see a beak poking through.

He didn't see any easy way to reach the window, which was so high up that he thought he had no hopes of reaching it.

He missed having a wand.

Finally, he climbed up on a chair and used the handle of a broom to pry the window open, and the owl flew inside.

It made a wide circle around the room, dropped a newspaper and several letters onto a chair, and flew back out without a second look at Harry.

Harry picked up the letters first, because two had fallen to the floor. All were addressed to Snape, and he put them on the work table. Then he turned to the newspaper.

The headlines on the front page did not interest him. They were still obsessing over his death. Was that a good sign? Or did it just mean that news of the execution -- or escape -- of a werewolf wouldn't be big or sensational enough to bump news about Harry Potter off the front page?

He turned each page with dread, but there was nothing until the bottom of the eighth.

The execution of Remus J. Lupin, a werewolf
linked to child-killer Fenrir Greyback, was
carried out without incident --

The paper fell out of Harry's hands, the pages fluttering down to the floor.

Harry followed them down, falling to his knees as his legs gave out.

For a very long time he stayed that way, oblivious to the chill creeping into his body from the cold stone floor, and stared unseeingly at the wall in front of him. Even after the numbness had started to leave his brain, it took a hundred deep breaths or more before he could pull himself shakily back to his feet.

He couldn't panic or fall to pieces. Not when he knew from his own experience that dead wasn't always really dead.

Snape had faked Harry's death, so that hiding him would be easier. Maybe he had done the same for Lupin, somehow.

He sat down on the hard bench behind the work table -- noticing dully that the fire under the potion had gone out and the potion was a dark, congealed mass at the bottom of the cauldron -- and put his head down on top of his arms.

He tried very hard not to think. Nothing in the papers could be believed, anyway. He wouldn't think.

His eyes itched. When he rubbed them, his face was damp and clammy.

He wasn't doing a very good job of not thinking.

---

He was still sitting there with his head buried in his arms when the lock clicked, making him look up.

The door swung open.

Harry got to his feet.

The door was wide open, but the short stretch of corridor that was visible outside it was empty. Harry wondered if he ought to hide.

He took a few steps forward, and then fell back as an odd procession came into view.

Snape had an iron grip on the arm of a young boy, and was using that arm to shove the child in front of him. The boy, who looked enraged, with flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, was stumbling along as best he could while putting up a valiant struggle. He seemed to be yelling, too, but no sound could be heard.

Snape's other hand was clamped on the shoulder of a second boy, though this seemed unnecessary, as he walked along meekly with his head bowed.

With a very hard shove, Snape sent his struggling charge reeling across the room. He hit the wall a few feet from Harry with a painful-sounding thud, which still failed to wipe the rage off his face. If the other boy hadn't run up to him and held him back, Harry was sure he would have lunged at Snape.

Harry looked from one boy to the other, not sure if he was seeing what he was seeing. "What...?"

Snape was breathing very hard, and his lips were curled back to reveal tightly-clenched teeth. He turned to shut the door, but never took his eyes off Harry and the others.

"Just a moment, Severus!"

McGonagall had appeared in the doorway before Snape could shut the door all the way, and Snape looked like he wanted to throttle her. "WHAT?"

She looked affronted, and gave him a look that seemed to take him down a notch. "I need to speak with you, and I'm afraid it cannot wait. We've had an incident...."

Snape's hands curled into fists, but he followed her out, slamming the door shut behind him.

"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Harry, who had jumped in fright, turned to stare at the boy.

But it was the other one who spoke, apologetically. "Had to sedate him. He's just woken up, and is a bit confused."

"CONFUSED?! CONFUSED?!"

"Calm down, Padfoot, for goodness sake! I'd explain if you'd quit yelling!"

"Padfoot..." Harry whispered. His eyes hurt from straining out of their sockets. "Are you...? I mean, are you...?"

They both looked at him, one with a cringe and the other as though he wanted to punch him.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then remembered what would come out. He shut it again quickly.

"It's your godson, Padfoot... which you would have realized if you weren't blind with rage."

The boy blinked. "Wha--?" He narrowed his eyes. "Where's the scar?"

"Gone," Harry said weakly. "Ever since Voldemort died. Sirius? This... is... so..."

"INSANE!" Sirius roared. He turned on Lupin. "You damn well better have a really good explanation, BECAUSE I AM NOT IMPRESSED WITH ANY OF THIS!"

"Professor Lupin?" Harry whispered.

The boy sighed and ran his fingers through his mop of light brown hair. "Yes, James."

"JAMES?!"

"I changed his name," Lupin said resignedly. "Can I ask you again to stop yelling?"

Harry was shaking his head, feeling dizzy and slightly sick to his stomach, which was tied in knots. "What...? How...?"

"It's a long story," Lupin said with another sigh. "And I'm so terribly sorry for what I did to you..."

"It's okay," Harry said, not caring for the moment, "but... how?"

"Does it really matter? He's here."

"But --"

Harry didn't get to finish, because he found himself being hugged hard enough to cut his breath off.

"James!" Sirius said, letting him go at last. "Are you all right? Did that evil git hurt you?"

Harry shook his head. "I've only been here less than a day."

Lupin looked guilty again. "Was that place really awful? I am sorry --"

"It's okay," Harry insisted. "I'm fine, really."

"You're obviously not fine," Sirius snapped. "Look at us. What the bloody hell, Moony?"

"How come you got to keep your names?" Harry asked grumpily. He hated being called James, and it was somehow even worse when Sirius did it.

"We didn't," Lupin said, "but we made our old nicknames our surnames, so we could keep using them. I'm Milo Moony now."

"And what am I?" Sirius demanded. His mouth moved several times without making a sound, and he looked angrier each time; Harry was sure he was attempting to say his name, and finding it impossible.

"Sorry," Lupin said, looking at him apologetically. "You won't be able to."

Sirius glared at him.

"You're Paddy -- Patrick, really -- Puddifoot."

Harry snorted. "Like the cafe in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes," Lupin said, looking away, "well, Madam Puddifoot was killed several weeks ago, so she won't mind having gained a grandson, I'm sure."

Harry sobered quickly. He hadn't known.

"Oh, this is just great," Sirius said, stomping over to a chair and throwing himself onto it. "What next, I ask you?"

"Next you're going to calm down, and let us explain everything, and you won't do anything stupid, because you could get us all killed."

"SO?!" Sirius growled, leaping off the chair like a jack-in-the-box. "START EXPLAINING, WHY DON'T YOU!"

"Yes," said Snape from the doorway. He was back, carrying a box, and looked like he had mastered his temper, though his eyes were still flashing dangerously. "Do tell us exactly how you got us all into this mess."

Lupin looked at his shoes. "I... uh, Severus, can we speak in private?"

"No," Snape said shortly. "We cannot."

"Start talking," Sirius added, crossing his arms over his chest.

Even Harry couldn't help leaning forward a little. Lupin owed him an explanation, after everything that had happened.

"I... I can't, Severus," he looked at Snape in wide-eyed appeal. "He doesn't even know what happened to him. I need time to explain...."

Snape's lips curled cruelly. He turned toward Sirius. "Black, allow me to catch you up on what you've missed. You were killed, in June of this year, after storming the Ministry of Magic in search of this little fool --" He motioned at Harry. "It is now late September. Any questions?"

Sirius looked livid, but he looked at Lupin first, and his expression slowly turned to puzzlement as Lupin avoided making eye-contact.

"Moving right along," Snape continued gleefully. "Lupin decides to disregard all the laws that we as wizards hold dear, and somehow manages to bring you back --"

Sirius, who had turned back to Snape, rounded on Lupin with his eyes wide. "You what? But that's a death sentence --"

A newspaper clipping appeared in Snape's hand. He waved it back and forth in front of Sirius' nose.

Sirius snatched it. There was a long silence while he read, a look of horror growing on his face.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Lupin said glumly. "I nearly got us both executed, and if anyone finds out we're here --"

Snape made a squelching noise and drew a finger over his throat, making both Lupin and Harry jump.

Harry remembered suddenly, and dashed over to pick up that morning's paper off the floor. "I read --here -- it says --"

Snape took it from him. His eyes flicked over the article, and then he handed it to Lupin, who went very pale.

Sirius took it from him and scowled at it. "Well, it wasn't us."

"You should be down on your knees, thanking me that it wasn't you!" Snape snarled. "I could just as easily have left you to your fate."

"We are grateful," Lupin said, interrupting whatever Sirius had been about to retort.

"Yes, very grateful," Sirius echoed, not sounding grateful in the least, "but I still want to know why I look like a bloody First Year!"

"I don't know why you would complain," Snape said scathingly. "It's clearly an improvement. Your brain finally matches your body."

It took both Harry and Lupin to hold Sirius back.

"Think, Padfoot! It's the perfect disguise until things calm down a bit."

Sirius glared at him. "You're insane."

"Yes..." Snape rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You still haven't explained how you came to devise this... ingenious scheme, Lupin."

Lupin shrugged a little.

"Well?!" demanded Sirius. "What were you thinking, Moony?"

"I... I don't know. I..." He swallowed, looking resigned. "Lucius Malfoy sent me the first ten stones --"

"What stones?"

"The ones that change the direction of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," Lupin said very quietly, looking anywhere but at Sirius.

"WHAT? Do you have any idea what you could have unleashed?"

"He unleashed you," said Snape. "That's bad enough. And what a perfect choice of words, Black."

"I bought the rest in Knockturn Alley," Lupin finished quietly.

"And dragged him with you." Snape glared at Harry, as though he thought it was as much Harry's fault as Lupin's.

He probably did think that.

"I... needed him. I couldn't have got inside half those shops myself. But I made sure he couldn't be accused of anything --"

Snape laughed.

"What?" Lupin asked, frowning.

Harry, wanting to soften the coming blow, said, "It didn't work out that way, but it's all right, I'm fine, and I might be even safer now than I was before."

All three of them stared at him like he'd grown two extra heads.

"What happened, Severus?" Lupin asked, turning to Snape. "They can't be accusing him of having something to do with all of this."

"I'm afraid they did accuse him of just that," Snape said mercilessly. "It was decided, by a hastily assembled Wizengamot, that he had performed the most forbidden and Dark magic there is. They hunted him down, and they killed him." He paused. "So they think, anyway. Another thing you should be thanking me for."

"But, I..." Lupin looked horrified and lost. "I didn't!"

"You had him purchase three of those damned stones, as well as an illegal time-warping device; what did you think was going to happen?"

Sirius looked accusingly at Lupin. "How could you involve James like this?"

"I DIDN'T!" Lupin looked from one to the other, and then pleadingly at Harry. "Tell them. Tell them what happened."

Harry, who had his hand in his pocket, curled around the crumpled receipt he had never thrown away, cringed and looked down.

Lupin groaned.

"Idiot. You should have known not to trust him with your plans," Snape said. Then, to Harry, "Well, what did you do?"

"I paid for the purchase," Harry admitted. "But," he continued defensively, "I thought he couldn't afford it! It was six hundred Galleons! He didn't have that kind of money!"

Lupin groaned again.

"So," said Snape, again sounding almost gleeful. "What a brilliant plan that was, Lupin. Care to enlighten us how you came upon it?"

Lupin swallowed hard. "I took a dose of Felix Felicis --"

"You what?"

Lupin sighed and looked down at his shoes again. "After Hogwarts was breached, I was the first one to arrive, and I was the one who found Horace... He had smashed everything in his lab... and he was so proud, I... I just couldn't let him find out he hadn't got to everything. I took the potions. I was going to send them back." He looked up at Snape. "I was, but I never got the chance, so I still had them. I took a dose before we left Grimmauld Place."

There was a short silence.

Then Sirius said incredulously, "The luckiest day of your life, and you landed us in Azkaban?"

"It... kept wearing off..."

"It kept wearing off?" Snape repeated mockingly. "Lupin, you're a werewolf."

Lupin's shoulders slumped.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO REMIND HIM!"

"Shut up, Black," Snape said. "What did you do when it wore off?"

"I... took more," Lupin admitted, his shoulders hunched. "I took all four bottles by the time I got into the Department of Mysteries."

Snape huffed, shaking his head. "Idiot."

"So what happened?" Harry asked, unable to stand it. "You got Sirius, and...?"

Sirius answered when Lupin just shook his head. "All I know is, Aurors grabbed us, and it was straight to Azkaban from there. I still thought it was the day you --" He glanced quickly at Harry, and didn't elaborate. "Uh... So I didn't know what was going on. They threw us in separate cells. And then he --" He glared at Snape. "-- came and poured one of his sick potions down my throat, and then Stunned me!"

"All very necessary," Snape said, looking as thought it had also been very pleasurable.

The two glared at each other with such intensity that Harry was sure curses couldn't be far off.

"Fine," Sirius ground out from between clenched teeth. "Thank you for your assistance, Snape, and do let me know if I can ever repay you. Now turn us back to normal so we can get out of this dump!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Snape said silkily. "For one thing, you have nowhere to go."

"He's right, Pad--"

"I have a house! Unlike YOU!"

"Not anymore," Snape said, smiling a very ugly smile. "Aurors brought it crumbling down two days ago, searching for him."

Harry's throat constricted. Another thing that was his fault. Now Sirius had lost his home... however much he'd hated it, and the Order had lost a secure meeting place.

Sirius' mouth gaped open, but he quickly shook off his shock. "Fine! Moony has a place!"

"Not anymore," Lupin said with a glum sigh. "Act 509, section C, paragraph --"

"I get it," Sirius said angrily. "Evil gits... I hate the lot of 'em. Fine. There's lots of people who'd be happy to help us hide out for a while. My cousin --"

"Dead," Snape said. "Along with her husband."

This did stun Sirius, and his eyes widened impossibly. "Nymphadora?" he asked faintly.

"Alive, but hardly in position to help you."

"No, of course not..." Sirius shook himself. "All right, Arthur will --" But he happened to look at Harry, and stopped. "What? No... not Arthur...?"

"I'm afraid so," Snape said. His face, which had twitched at the mention of Mr. Weasley, was neutral again. "Give it up, Black. We've already been over this with him." He indicated Harry, who wondered if Snape was going to keep calling him that. "No one can take you in. We've lost too many people."

Sirius, though looking somewhat defeated, still managed to sound defiant. "So, what are we supposed to do, Snape?"

Snape didn't answer him, and Sirius looked at Harry and Lupin. "Well? Is there a plan? One that doesn't involve living with this git?"

Lupin flinched. "Padfoot..."

"I'M NOT STAYING HERE!" Sirius roared, stomping his foot. "NO BLOODY WAY!"

"You will, and you will stop hollering like a lunatic," Snape said.

Sirius rounded on him. "Give me my wand, Snape. I'm getting out of here."

"Padfoot..."

"YOU can stay here, if you like!" Sirius yelled at him. "BUT I WON'T! SNAPE, GIVE ME MY DAMN WAND!"

"I haven't got your wand," Snape said, one eyebrow raised. "However, you may use my spare."

Sirius sputtered incoherently as Snape went over to the bookshelf and removed a wand from behind two thick tomes. He held it out to Sirius, who looked at it suspiciously.

"Well? Go on, try it out." Snape's voice was very silky, and Harry was filled with a strong feeling of apprehension. What was Snape doing?

Sirius took it, and flicked it experimentally a few times; then, more surely, flicked it toward the door.

A couple of sparks flew out of the end and fizzled out on their way down.

"Very funny," Sirius said, thrusting the wand back at Snape. "Now give me one that works."

Snape smiled. He flicked the wand, and an arc of yellow light hit the papers strewn across the floor, setting them on fire.

"Seems to me it works just fine."

"May I?"

Snape handed it to him, and Lupin flicked it a few times, frowning. The wand didn't work any better for him.

He stopped, still frowning in thought.

"Lumos."

A very faint light appeared at the end of the wand, and quickly faded.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Flicking the wand toward a bit of ash on the floor.

It floated up an inch or two before falling.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded. "What's wrong with us?"

"Didn't read the fine print on your Dark device, did you, Lupin?" Snape said. He was still smiling nastily.

"What is the git talking about, Moony?"

Lupin swallowed, wincing. "I think our magic may have reverted to pre-pubescent level along with our bodies."

"Huh?" Harry said. "What do you mean?"

He took the wand Lupin offered him, but Sirius snatched it away.

"Lumos."

There was a very small spark of light, and it faded sooner than Lupin's had. Disgusted, he handed it back to Harry. "You try."

Harry did, with much the same results, while Lupin faltered through an explanation.

"I don't know if I'm right, but... If I'm right... we've lost our ability to direct magic. It's not a matter of knowing spells, of course, but a matter of being able to control and direct your innate magic. Children haven't got that control, much like very young children haven't got the fine motor skills to color in a picture within the lines. That's why our kind doesn't begin educating children in the use of magic until they're on the cusp of puberty. At around eleven, minor spells will work with some consistency. It explains why girls often are ahead of boys during the first years of school, but toward the end witches and wizards have about equal power, overall."

Sirius scowled at him. "So?"

"So... I don't think we'll be able to use magic while we're... like this."

Sirius turned his glare on Snape. "Snape, turn me back to normal at once, or --"

Snape laughed at him. "Or you'll what?"

Harry dropped the wand to help Lupin pull Sirius back.

Snape, ignoring the outburst, walked over the the cauldron on the table and peered inside.

"The fire went out a little before you got here," Harry said, now feeling guilty that he hadn't tried to save the potion.

Snape looked at him sharply. "Did you touch the potion?"

"No!" Snape was not going to blame this on him. "It went out by itself. I wasn't anywhere near it."

Snape scooped some of the goo with the ladle and brought it up to the light. "Hmm." He looked at Harry suspiciously. "Fine. But if you did anything to this potion, and someone dies as a result of taking it --"

"You mean it's not ruined?" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Then you did do something to it," Snape said, his lips thinning. "I knew it was too much to --"

"No! I never touched it. It was boiling like crazy, and I thought to stir it --"

"You what?!"

"BUT I DIDN'T!"

Snape still glared at him, but went back to poking at the potion. After a minute he pulled a bottle out of a cabinet and spooned the thick mass into it.

Harry felt sorry for anyone who had to drink that awful-looking stuff, but at least it seemed it wasn't ruined after all.

He realized he was breathing hard when Lupin put a hand on his back and rubbed it in a soothing circle.

"Git," muttered Sirius.

"I'm taking this over to the infirmary," Snape said. "The box over there has your breakfast and some clothing. Lupin, McKenna, make sure you keep that mutt under control." His eyes bore into Harry's as he emphasized the last word.

Sirius glared at Snape's back until the door had shut behind him. "Who the bloody hell is McKenna?"

"Me," Harry said with a sigh. "My new name."

Sirius rolled his eyes, scooped up the wand Harry had dropped, and headed across the room. "Come on. One of us should be able to work an Alohomora."

Harry exchanged a look with Lupin.

"Listen, Sirius..." Harry began, "the thing is... well, there really isn't any place we can go, or at least any place where we won't be a danger to anyone. Hogwarts is pretty safe, and --"

That was as far as he got. Sirius was glaring murderously at him, and Harry faltered and fell silent.

"What he means, Padfoot -- and he's absolutely right -- is that we're not going anywhere. We're going to stay here and wait it out."

"Wait what out?"

"The current situation is so bad because Fudge is still in power, which means someone is still pulling the strings --"

"Yeah," Sirius said scornfully, "probably your new best buddy, Lucius."

The insult seemed to have hit. Harry took over.

"We're -- that is, the Order is working on getting Fudge out --" He ignored the sharp look Lupin threw his way. "So it won't be very long. I want to stay at Hogwarts, and not take any more risks." He looked at Sirius with what he hoped was a pleading expression. "Please, Sirius. I don't want to run or hide anymore. Maybe we can just have a couple of weeks where we don't have to worry about that kind of stuff. Then, who knows? We might not have to hide at all. We can be a proper family, just like you always said we could be."

He could see Sirius melting slightly, and quickly went on.

"Say you won't go. You have no idea what it was like to lose you, and I can't go through it again. Please."

He knew he'd won a minor battle when Sirius hugged him. Lupin gave him a thumbs-up behind Sirius' back.

"All right. I guess I can wait and see, but if the git keeps getting on my case -- or yours -- we're outta here." He let Harry go and gave Snape's box a kick toward the center of the room. "Let's see what we have in here -- I'm starving."

They made a pretty good meal out of the bread, jam, cheese, fruit, and pumpkin juice, and Harry noticed that Sirius' mood went up the more he ate, and that Lupin was pushing more food onto his plate every time Sirius wasn't looking.

"We should change out of our clothing," Lupin said after they had finished eating. "I'm pretty sure real children wouldn't wear one of these." He pulled at his cardigan, which had been badly shrunk to fit him.

Sirius eyed the contents of the box. "I'm not putting those on."

"Why not?"

"Slytherin."

Harry took one of the robes when Lupin it held out. It did have a green lining and Slytherin crest on it.

Lupin was putting his on, ignoring Sirius' derisive sniffs, so Harry followed suit.

"Come on, Padfoot."

Sirius took the robes from Lupin and held them at arm's length as if they stank.

"Put them on."

With a great big sigh, Sirius took off his jacket and vest and put the robes on.

"Is Professor Snape having you stay in his spare bedroom?" Lupin asked Harry. "We will probably all be sleeping there together for now."

Harry shook his head, thinking of the empty, trash-filled room he had seen earlier. "I didn't sleep last night, so, no."

Lupin looked guilty, so Harry quickly amended, "I mean, I slept a little bit... on the couch. The room wasn't ready, anyway."

"Let's have a look."

Harry was saved from doing so by McGonagall's arrival. The Headmistress looked about as stern as Harry had ever seen her, but most of that seemed to be aimed at Sirius, not him. In fact, she hugged Lupin quite warmly.

"James, Milo, run along to the Great Hall. The children are watching a puppet show, and it would be prudent for you to be seen among them." She paused, her sharp gaze pinning Sirius. "Patrick and I have a few things to discuss."

Harry and Lupin left a scowling Sirius with McGonagall and left Snape's quarters.

"James."

Harry stopped. He had no choice --Lupin had him by the arm. "Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry."

Harry turned to look at him. He tried to smile, though it was a wobbly effort. "You've already said that, and it's okay. You got Siri--"

Lupin clamped his hand over Harry's mouth.

After a moment he slowly took it off. "Damn it. We're going to have to do something about this. I hadn't even noticed you could still call us --" He stopped and his eyes darted around, as if expecting a spy to be lurking around every corner. "That's exactly what we don't need."

"I'll be careful," Harry said. "Until we can get it taken care of. I think Snape--"

"Professor Snape," Lupin hissed, his hand jerking toward Harry again.

Harry looked at him oddly. "Everyone just calls him Snape, Milo. Even First Years. At least when he can't hear."

Lupin seemed to relax a little.

"Anyway, I think he can do it. He did it to himself, anyway... Who did the ones on you?"

"I did," Lupin said. "On Padfoot before he even woke up, and on myself and on --" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Tonks and Kingsley."

"Too bad you can't still do it, because Snape and McGonagall both said it was a hard spell."

Lupin nodded. "Not really their area, I imagine. Let's not talk anymore... I think we should get going."

They reached the Great Hall and joined a throng of children heading toward a small stage set at the far end.

"Puppet theater?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. He'd never been to one. Dudley had once, and had called it ridiculous and boring and stupid.

But Lupin just shook his head, smiling.

A catchy tune started playing, and Harry sat back, determined to enjoy it if Lupin was.

It was stupid, really. He was pretty sure he would have found it to be so even at ten or eleven years old, but the younger children certainly seemed to be having fun.

The puppets chased each other across the stage, danced, sang, and performed silly magic tricks. It was lighthearted and for a while managed to make him forget where he was and what a muddled mess his life had become.

But the hour was over soon, and it was Draco Malfoy who stepped out from behind the puppet theater to bow before the applauding crowd, reminding Harry that no matter what he looked like now, he could never recapture his childhood.

He wasn't at Hogwarts to have fun. He was there to keep himself alive, and because it could help keep the people he cared about alive.

He understood Snape's words now. He had to be careful, and he had to use whatever influence he had to keep Sirius from being careless.

Because like it or not, he knew Snape had told the truth when he told them they had nowhere else to go, and, even more importantly in Harry's mind, neither did the children sitting around him now. If Harry and Lupin and Sirius were discovered at Hogwarts, it would be more than just their lives and Snape's on the line.

Once again, he found himself burdened by the realization that his very existence put others in jeopardy.

"What's wrong?"

Harry looked into Lupin's concerned eyes, and shook his head. "Nothing." Everything.

Lupin seemed to guess at least some of what Harry had been thinking. "Between the two of us, we'll keep him from doing anything stupid."

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, looks like everyone's going outside."

And they trooped outside with the other children, out onto the lawn where a picnic lunch had been set out for them. They ate and watched Malfoy and a few others toss a Quaffle high overhead.

Harry missed being up there. He would probably never play Quidditch again. Not a real game, anyway. Hogwarts wouldn't reopen that year, and it was uncertain whether he'd be able to return, even if it ever did.

"Thanks a lot for starting without me."

Harry jumped, and so did Lupin, as Sirius threw himself down on the grass next to them.

"Are you all right?"

Sirius gave Lupin a withering look. "You left me with that old hag."

Lupin looked scandalized, but Harry snickered. All right, it was rude and a terrible thing to say, but the way Sirius had said it....

"You wouldn't believe what she said to me," Sirius seethed. He tore a biscuit in half with his teeth and swallowed without chewing. "Is she married to Snape? She went at me like I was one of her students!"

"Shh," Lupin implored. "Keep it down."

Sirius just glared at him again. "Why should I keep it down? Am I supposed to pretend I'm happy to be Snape's fuckin' kid?"

Lupin pinched him. Hard.

"Ow," said Sirius, looking at him with a mixture of incredulousness and hurt. "What the hell?"

"There are children around you."

"Not close enough to hear." Sirius rubbed his arm, still looking at Lupin as though Lupin was a dog that had bitten him after he'd petted it on the head. "I don't understand what's with you two. No one could possibly be happy to be Snape's kid. No one will think it's even a bit odd that I'm not, so you two can just shut it."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"You're not happy to be Snape's kid, are you?"

The question was to Harry, and he looked up. Sirius still looked hurt.

"I'm not Snape's kid."

"Of course not," Sirius said, brightening.

Harry steeled himself. "But, yeah, I'm going to do my best to pretend it, because that will keep us safe. Everyone knows Snape hates me and I hate him, so I would think it would be safer to pretend we like each other."

Sirius opened his mouth, probably to inform Harry that he was crazy and a disappointment, but Lupin shoved another biscuit between his teeth before he could say a word.

Sirius chewed and glared.

"I think that's the right idea," Lupin said. "We'll be here for a while, and it would make things easier if we can at least be civil to each other. We're all on the same side."

"Next," Sirius said, swallowing finally, "you'll be telling me he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart." His brow furrowed darkly. "What I want to know is, what's in it for him?"

"If you must know," Lupin said, not looking at either of them, "I tricked him into making a promise to become James' guardian if there ever came a time when no one else was able to be. I paid him for it, too. So, if you want to blame someone...."

Sirius looked like he did blame him, but he didn't say anything for a long time.

"How much did you pay?"

"What?"

"How much. That's what I want to know."

Lupin shrugged uncomfortably. "Some book he wanted. I can't even remember the title now... the potion..."

"Oh, yes," Sirius said spitefully, "let's just blame the potion for everything."

Lupin's face flushed.

"There was also the dragon's blood," Harry reminded him. "Ten vials." He frowned. "What happened to the other two I bought?"

"I. Needed. Them." Lupin seemed to have his teeth clenched.

"Oh."

They didn't speak again for a long time.

"Are we still fighting?" Sirius asked. He looked slightly sorry.

"No," Lupin said shortly. "Not anymore."

"Good," Sirius said, apparently easily satisfied. "I'll get us some more juice."

He set off at a jog toward a table in the shade of a tree.

Harry glanced at Lupin. "Is... I mean, he seems a little... odd."

Lupin cringed a little, like he knew exactly what Harry meant, but threw it back at him. "In what way do you mean?"

"Well... I just don't remember him ever acting this... Oh, I don't know," Harry said, giving up. "Forget it."

"Acting like he really is ten years old?" Lupin said quietly.

"Well... yes."

Lupin drew a short breath. "I think you're right, but I don't think there's anything wrong with him. It's affecting him differently than it's affecting us -- being like this."

"Why?" Harry asked, wanting to understand.

"He had a terrible childhood, and Azkaban stole most of his adult life... I think he's been fighting all sorts of pressure and expectations ever since he got out. Trying to be what people expect in an adult man. What I see right now is what I recall from our school days." Lupin winced. "Not his best qualities coming out, really."

"But you think he'll be all right?"

That was worth another wince.

"If he survives the experience. I'm afraid..." Lupin shook his head glumly. "I'm afraid this is how Professor Snape remembers him, as well."

"Do you know why..." Harry hesitated. Snape had told him the night before that he didn't care to share his reasons. But he wanted to know. "Why he agreed to do this? Snape, I mean."

Lupin laughed softly, but it was a mirthless, pained laugh. "I'm afraid he agreed before knowing the facts. You see... he didn't know I'd been successful in getting Padfoot out until he came for me."

Harry stared at him, but Lupin was looking away, his gaze lost somewhere across the mist-covered lake.

He wanted to tell Lupin that he was wrong. Snape had known before then, or he wouldn't have given Harry the puzzling warning the previous night. And it seemed to him McGonagall must have known too, what with her 'bad blood' comment; that had been even earlier.

He struggled for a moment, torn between trying to make Lupin feel better and obeying Snape's wishes like he intended to try to do.

Sirius was making his way back to them with their drinks.

"We're not going to have a very easy time, are we?"

"No, I don't believe we are," Lupin agreed, sighing heavily. "Any of us."

They were heading back to the castle when they saw McGonagall coming straight toward them.

Sirius groaned. "Oh, no... here she comes again. Probably thought of something else to threaten me with."

Lupin elbowed him in the ribs.

McGonagall, however, barely looked at Sirius. "Milo, Patrick, Professor Snape is expecting you in his quarters. Go straight there; no dallying."

Harry, who was wondering what she might want with him, watched the two go. Sirius kept looking back at him and making faces.

"I have some letters for you," McGonagall said. She looked sorry. "I'm afraid these will be the last for a while, as your friends can't be told the truth until we know it won't endanger you... or them."

Harry accepted the little bundle. There were three letters; two from Hermione and one from Ron. All from before they would have heard of Harry's death, but still recent.

He was filled with overwhelming anger and helplessness at having to put them through this hell. He knew what a wreck he would be if he lost either one of them. What they were suffering was too great a price to pay for his safety.

"It won't be long now before we set things in order. Their safety is worth the pain."

Harry looked up. Had McGonagall read his mind, or just guessed what he was thinking from the look on his face? In either case, he didn't believe her. Things didn't seem to be getting any closer to settling down. He remembered her words the morning he got to Hogwarts. She hadn't sounded so sure then.

Although, now that he looked closer, he noticed that while she still looked exhausted, there was something of the old determination and spark back in her eyes.

"Go on back to the castle," she said, apparently having said all she wanted to. "Professor Snape will wonder what's keeping you. If he hasn't already, do remind him he needs to do something about your names."

Harry didn't look forward to having to remind Snape of anything, but he nodded. "Thanks, Professor."

"You just remember; you can come to me if you need anything," she said, peering at him closely. "I'm here, and I'm still your Head of House."

Harry nodded again, but he remembered Snape's words, and didn't promise her he would.

He put the letters in a pocket of his robes and headed back to the dungeons. He hoped he wouldn't walk in on another fight.

---

Too much to hope for, apparently.

Sirius was pacing in front of a closed door, and behind it Harry could hear Snape's angry voice, though he couldn't make out what Snape was carrying on about.

As soon as Harry got close enough, Sirius grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the door leading to the cellar. Before Harry knew it, Sirius had closed the door behind them, muffling Snape's yelling eyen more.

"It's dark in here," Harry protested. He was feeling his way gingerly, not wanting to fall head first down the steps he remembered were very steep.

There was a flicker, and the dark space was lit by a yellowish flame. Sirius was holding a Muggle-style lighter. "Just sit on the steps."

Harry sat down. "What's that about, up there?"

"How should I know? The git doesn't need a reason to go off on someone. Anyway, you and I need to have a little talk."

Harry felt a slightly uncomfortable feeling starting to stir in his gut. Was Sirius going to try to convince him to do something stupid and dangerous? Why else would he want to talk alone, in secret?

"I know I won't get a straight answer out of them, and I need to know what's been happening since... well, you know."

Harry knew.

"I mean," Sirius went on, starting to pace; this caused the light to snuff out, and he fumbled with the lighter. "McGonagall is Headmistress? Hogwarts is closed? The bloody Ministry thinks you are a threat?" He stopped, frowning. "All right, that part I can believe. Evil gits." He sat down heavily on the step next to Harry. "From the beginning. Please."

Harry didn't want to talk about it. It was enough he had to rehash it in his own head all the time. Sirius had a point, though... and maybe if he knew more, he would be less likely to do something stupid.

He sighed, and began.

"Voldemort showed up at the Ministry right after... you know."

Sirius nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

"Well, it all went to hell after that. Fudge had to admit he was back, and there was panic and people rushing to pull their kids out of Hogwarts before the year even ended. All through summer it was one attack after another. The Dursleys wouldn't take me back..." Harry swallowed, the memory stinging. His mother's sister wouldn't even take him back for a day... not that he really blamed her. Whatever protection going to the Dursleys every summer had offered Harry in the past had ended as soon as she had made that choice. "I stayed with the Weasleys, until..."

Sirius put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. Was Arthur the only one...?"

"Yeah," Harry said thickly. He wished Sirius wasn't looking at him. He needed to wipe his eyes. "They're all okay. Bill was injured, but it could have been so much worse."

Only luck had kept them all from dying that night.

"Anyway, after that we hid out at your place."

"The Weasleys, too?"

"No, just..." He wondered what he should call Lupin now. "Just Moony and I. It was still being used by the Order, but everything was in such disarray that we hardly ever saw anyone. Then, Dumbledore decided to open Hogwarts against the Ministry's orders. He said something about not caving in to the terror, or something like that. Not letting them win."

That memory was bitter, too. Maybe if Hogwarts hadn't reopened....

"Well, it's closed now," Sirius said. "What happened?"

"They attacked. Voldemort. We hadn't even been back a week." He swallowed hard. "Dumbledore died. We lost so many people, Sirius... We had no other choice but to fight them, but it cost us."

Sirius had his hand on Harry's arm again. "I'm sorry. Who...?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling, as though the names were written up there. Maybe that would keep his tears from spilling out. "Dumbledore, Sprout, your cousin and her husband -- I didn't even know it was them until later, when Tonks came to identify the bodies -- half the Order... Sirius, I didn't even know most of their names..."

"I'm sorry, Sirius repeated. "You don't have to --"

"No," Harry said stoically. "I need to, I think." He took a breath. "Diddle, and Mrs. Vance, and the Diggories, and... you wouldn't know the rest, I suppose." He shook his head, but the names came anyway. "Colin and Lavender and the Patil twins, Cho and Seamus and Dean and..." His voice broke. "All... my... friends...."

Sirius let the light go out and wrapped him in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, James."

"Ernie and Katie," Harry whispered, unable to stop. "She shouldn't have even been there... Luna's in St. Mungo's... Madam Hooch, too...."

"Shh... I'm sorry...."

Harry pulled away, wiping his face roughly, glad for the darkness. "That's... just how it's been," he said, his voice coming out clipped. "We'd've lost more, but so many never came back. After last year. Ron and Hermione never did, anyway."

She would have been back the next day. One day. Just luck. All of them who were alive had survived for no better reason than that.

"Hogwarts closed after that. There wasn't any choice. Moony and I went into hiding again. It was like we'd never left. Just one bleak day after the next."

"That place will do that to you," Sirius agreed. Harry didn't need light; he could hear the scowl in his voice. "Can't say I'm not glad to see it go, except that now we have to stay here."

"I guess you know the rest about as well as I do."

Sirius was silent for a long time, and Harry wished he could see his face.

Or maybe not. Sitting there in the dark, he could imagine Sirius the way he remembered him; not as a ten year old with a sharp, perpetually angry expression on his face, but as the man who would have been the closest thing to a father Harry had, if things had only been different. He was glad the old Sirius hadn't been completely replaced. Maybe Lupin was right, and there had always been a side to Sirius that he'd worked hard at not letting show.

"How did Voldemort die?"

Harry cringed. That wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"James?"

"Do you... know what a horcrux is?"

There was a shuffling sound next to him, and he guessed Sirius had been startled. The light flickered on.

"Yes. What about it? Don't tell me he had one?"

"More than one," Harry said, not meeting his eyes. "So he couldn't die. Not until they were all destroyed. Dumbledore had spent the past few years tracking them down, and he had the last one --" What he'd thought was the last one... "-- with him when we were attacked. He... was killed for it. He thought he would take Voldemort out with him, I think, and took chances he shouldn't have."

"So that's it? Voldemort just died after that?"

"Not exactly."

Not exactly at all.

Harry's hand came up unconsciously to rub the place where the scar had been. Nothing was there anymore. Sometimes he forgot, or thought he felt a familiar twinge.

Sirius was waiting, and Harry sighed heavily and went on.

"There was one more. He came after me, and..."

Blinding pain.

On his knees.

Voldemort's wand pressed to his forehead.

Going to die.

Any second.

Any second.

His head splitting open along the jagged lightning-bolt scar.

Dying.

"He tried to kill me, but he hit his own horcrux instead. The last one."

Sirius' brow furrowed.

"My scar," Harry said, looking away from him. "It was my scar. I had a piece of that evil fuck in my head... all my life."

There was silence.

Harry finally felt brave enough to look up.

Sirius was leaning back against the wall, as though his spine needed the support, and he was looking at Harry as if seeing him for the first time.

"The spell rebounded. He was killed by his own spell."

More luck.

Just stupid luck. Keeping him alive.

"The spell stopped my heart, but Moony found me in time."

Sirius came out of his trance and looked at him sharply. "Brought you back, too, did he? I'm really worried about him. He gambled with his soul --"

"It wasn't like that," Harry said quickly. "I wasn't dead, really. It's like when someone drowns. You can bring them back with CPR."

"With what?"

"Muggle thing," Harry said, realizing his mistake. "To help someone start breathing again."

"We have spells for that," Sirius said, nodding and looking a bit calmer. "All right... well..."

"The rest you know," Harry said, shrugging. "We're all just waiting, now."

Waiting to see if their world could be put back together.

Harry didn't think it could be.

"All right," Sirius said again, slowly letting out a breath. "Well, what I want to know is --"

He didn't finish, because of the abrupt silence in the room above them.

"I think we might want to go back --" Harry started, but he, too, didn't get to finish, as the darkness of the cellar was cut by light streaming through the door that had been thrown open.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded. "Come out of there at once."

Sirius blew the light out, pocketed the lighter, and stood up. "Just having a little chat with my godson, Snape. No need to get huffy."

Snape's hand lashed out and grabbed Sirius by the collar of his robes. He hauled him bodily out of the cellar and sent him stumbling toward a chair.

Harry quickly followed, afraid that Snape might do the same to him, next.

"When I told you to sit, I expected you to sit," Snape told Sirius, his eyes narrowed dangerously. He looked at Harry. "And you...! Why weren't you back with the others?"

"McGonagall," Harry said. He didn't want to elaborate. For all he knew, Snape might take the letters from him. It would be just like Snape to assume the letters would encourage Harry to think about contacting his friends.

"I'll be sure to ask her the next time I see her," Snape said, his eyes boring into Harry's.

Harry remembered McGonagall's message and decided to get it over with. "She said to remind you to work on that spell."

Snape looked blank.

"So you don't accidentally call them the wrong names," Harry said. Then he remembered something else. "Oh, and I can say their names, too."

Snape's face paled for a second, and then flushed as his expression turned livid. "And you didn't think to tell me this before you spent half the day gallivanting around Hogwarts?"

"We'd left before I realized it," Harry said defensively, and deliberately avoiding mentioning that Lupin had known it, too, and apparently hadn't mentioned it to Snape yet.

Snape glared at him, but there was more than just anger in his expression.

"You can do it, right Severus?" Lupin spoke for the first time. He was hanging back, as if not wanting to get involved.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't call me that," Snape snapped at him. "And, no, I'm not certain of it. I had a hard enough time casting it on myself. An intent spell on someone else...."

Harry had a nasty vision of himself being a guinea pig for Snape's first time casting a complicated charm that even McGonagall hadn't wanted to try her hand at.

"I could just be extra careful," he suggested.

"Absolutely not. Your idea of careful is --"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Snivellus," Sirius said furiously. "You don't know anything about him."

Harry automatically took a step toward Sirius, and saw Lupin do the same. He wasn't sure if he expected to have to pull Sirius off Snape, or the other way around.

They didn't have time, anyway. Snape's wand whistled through the air as he brought it down like a whip. Sirius was knocked back a foot, into the wall.

Lupin was hanging on to Snape's arm, but this did nothing -- Snape shook him off easily and nearly sent him sprawling. Another spell hit Sirius.

Harry stood frozen, no idea what to do.

"Wait!" he cried -- because Snape had turned the wand on him.

Too late. Snape brought the wand down. His lips were moving soundlessly, and his face was contorted in concentration.

Harry's brain had just registered the fact that he wasn't hurting when Sirius scrambled up off the floor and grabbed Snape's other arm. "STOP IT, YOU FILTHY GIT!"

He got a cuff on his ear for his trouble, and howled with pain, clasping both hands over the side of his head.

Lupin hurtled himself in between the two. "Don't hit him! You've got no right!"

Harry wasn't sure if Lupin was crazy or extremely brave... or both. Snape certainly looked capable of beating both of them to within an inch of their lives. He had seen the same look in Uncle Vernon's eyes many times, and it had never led to anything good.

They seemed to be frozen, all of them.

Snape still pointed his wand at Harry, but his body was turned toward Lupin, who was still shielding Sirius.

Very slowly, Harry's breathing started to return to normal.

Snape spoke, and his voice was low and deliberate. "I want all of you out of my sight."

"Come on, Padfoot," Lupin said softly. He gave Sirius a push toward the door Harry knew led to the spare room. He still kept his body between Sirius and Snape.

Harry followed them, giving Snape a wide berth.

The door slammed behind them as soon as they were inside.

A torch flared.

Harry looked around quickly.

The room had been hastily cleared and cleaned. The floor was still spotted with dirt, but now there was a rug over most of it. Three beds were up against the far wall, and a desk and bookcase against another. An empty trunk, with the lid open, was at the foot of one bed, and a low chest of drawers at the foot of another. Harry saw his box in a corner.

He glanced at Sirius, who was being comforted by Lupin and was still rubbing his ear.

Deciding there wasn't anything he could do, he instead went over to the box and rummaged through it.

His Invisibility Cloak was gone, and the shards of the two-way mirror as well, but the Marauder's Map had not been discovered. He couldn't help a small smile of triumph, thinking about Snape going through his things and missing it, but on second thought, he pushed the map back between the pages of his photo album. Sirius could get into enough trouble without a map of the grounds to help him.

He sat down on one of the beds, bouncing on the springs experimentally.

Suddenly he felt very tired.

Sirius stomped over and sat next to him, and a moment later Lupin joined them, sitting down on the bed opposite from them.

"What did that bastard do, anyway?"

Lupin took a deep breath, looking annoyed with him. "I wish you'd watch your mouth. There was absolutely no need to get him riled up. He was in a bad enough mood already. As for the spells... I imagine he didn't want you calling him 'Snivellus' anymore, and I'm surprised he didn't do worse to you, honestly." He huffed irritably. "He shouldn't have tried to cast that spell while so angry."

"He shouldn't've been casting anything on me or James! Bastard."

"He had no right to hit you, but I suppose you did push him too far."

"DON'T MAKE EXCUSES FOR THAT --"

"Shhhhh!"

Sirius glared at him, but fell silent.

Now that Lupin had suggested it, Harry realized he was probably right about what Snape had been doing. "Should we try it out?"

"Try what out?" Sirius asked peevishly.

"You're right," Lupin said. "Go ahead, James."

Harry looked at him and said, "Milo Moony -- hey it is working." He tried out 'Sirius Black' next. Out came, "Patrick Puddifoot -- yes, it's working."

"Great," Sirius muttered. "What a load off my mind."

"It should be," Lupin told him. "Now you try."

"Try what?" demanded Sirius incredulously. "I haven't been able to speak properly since this blasted nightmare started, thanks to you!"

Lupin flushed.

"I think he meant try Professor Snape's name," Harry said quickly, hoping they wouldn't start fighting again. He frowned slightly -- he was sure he hadn't actually said that. "Professor Snape... hmm."

"What?" Sirius asked, looking at him with distaste.

Harry glanced at Lupin. "Seems I have to call him Professor Snape now. Thanks, Paddy, for that." He frowned again. "Paddy... Paddy... damn it."

Sirius looked at him with suspicion dawning on his face. "Can you call me Padfoot at all?"

"No," Harry said, scowling. What had Snape done that for?

Sirius snorted indignantly and looked likely to march right back out into the main room and confront Snape.

"It's okay," Harry said quickly. "I'm sure he just didn't realize, and when he calms down I'll ask him to fix it."

Sirius didn't look like he thought much of that plan, but no longer looked like he might need to be held down.

"Well, Padfoot?" Lupin said. "Are you going to try it, or should we wait until your next outburst?"

"Professor Snape. There; happy?"

Lupin raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Greasy git," Sirius said, and brightened considerably. "Sir."

Harry laughed. "What did you say?"

Sirius' face had fallen, and was darkening fast. "Sir. Bloody idiot Sir!"

Lupin cocked his head to one side, looking amused. "What's that?"

"SIR!" roared Sirius, his fists clenching around the bedspread.

Lupin chuckled. "Oh... clever."

Sirius glared at him murderously. "TAKE HIS SIDE, WILL YOU?"

"Well, I don't think you have any right to call him Snivellus," Lupin said calmly, though he was a shade paler than normal; Sirius' yelling seemed to do that to him. "So, yes, in this case, I will take his side."

Sirius shot up off the bed, and Harry almost made a move to grab him, but Sirius merely stomped to the other side of the room, threw himself on the bed, and turned his back on both of them.

"Let him be," Lupin said softly to Harry. "Let him sulk it out."

Harry nodded.

"You got your things back?"

Harry nodded again. "Yes..." In a whisper, he added, "Not the Cloak though."

Lupin didn't look surprised. "Wouldn't be safe to leave it with you. In fact... I think you ought to put all your things out of sight. No sense taking chances. We can find a hiding place for them. Not in the trunk or the drawers, of course."

"Too bad the floor's not wood," Harry said. "I used to hide things under a loose floorboard at the Dursleys."

"I remember, you told me. Well, we'll find something just as good."

Harry wished they didn't have to, because he'd had a picture of his parents by his bedside for years. He liked to look at it before going to sleep, or in the morning when he was having trouble dragging himself out of bed. Sometimes it could still give him some comfort.

They looked the room over. A few times Harry thought he could feel himself being watched, but whenever he turned around Sirius still had his back to them.

"Just the thing, for now," Lupin said. They had found a spot on the wall that, when examined closely, revealed a switch that opened a panel. Behind it was a narrow space that Harry thought could be meant to be used as a wardrobe, since a pair of wooden coat hangers dangled from a wire stretched from one wall to another. "We can push the desk over, and it will be concealed nicely."

Harry put his box inside the wardrobe. Then, remembering, took his letters out of his pocket and put them in, as well. He would read them later, if he had some time by himself. He didn't want anyone around when he did.

"What's all that?"

"McGonagall gave them to me. From Hermione and Ron. I guess they tried to write after...."

Lupin nodded. He was looking guilty again, but all he said was, "We'll give you some privacy later, if we can, so you can read them without anyone interrupting."

"Thanks," Harry said, grateful that Lupin understood.

He shut the panel reluctantly. Well, he could still take the pictures out and look at them, anyway. That was better than nothing. And he was used to having to hide his things.

He wished he could have taken all his things from Grimmauld Place. If it had really been destroyed, then all the things he had left behind probably had been as well. He was very grateful that Lupin had let him pack these items, at least, but in hindsight he could think of a few he wished he had not left.

"Is he going to starve us?"

Harry looked at Sirius, who was scowling at them from his bed, where he was now sitting cross-legged.

Lupin looked around, but there was no clock. "I don't think it's quite dinner time. Didn't you have enough at lunch?"

Sirius scowled harder, then got up and stalked over to the bookcase.

It was mostly empty, with just a single row of books on one shelf and a long, narrow box on another, and after pawing through the books, Sirius picked one up and stared at it with disgust.

"What is it?" Lupin asked.

"This nightmare never ends," Sirius said, dropping the book on the floor and returning to the bed. "I'm taking a nap, in case this is all over when I wake up."

Harry thought he was jesting, but Sirius did climb into bed, albeit without undressing, and turned his back on them again.

Lupin had picked up the book. "Ah, The Little Muggle and the Werewolf." He chuckled, but there was a somewhat pained expression on his face. "Very amusing." He put the book back, and started to look through the others.

Harry went to see for himself.

Kids' books, all of them. Not a single one worth looking at.

"What's in the box?"

"Chess. Would you like to play?"

"Maybe later," Harry said. He didn't feel like playing games. "Why are all of these books here?"

"These are the sort of books that might be found in a child's room, though I'm not sure these are quite age-appropriate."

There was a half-snort, half-huff from Sirius.

"You might want to read them, actually," Lupin told Harry. "You can learn a lot about a society by the sort of stories children are told."

Harry nodded, but he didn't feel like reading books, either.

"Well," Lupin said, "I think I'll just go see if Professor Snape would kindly give us a clock. It won't do to never know the time."

"That's right," Sirius said scathingly. "Go out there and let the git yell at you some more."

Lupin left anyway.

As soon as he had, Sirius sat up.

"You know, I don't understand him."

Harry felt like he should defend Lupin, but he was too tired to even contemplate an argument with Sirius. He made only a non-committal noise in his throat.

Sirius, however, was apparently intent on continuing their interrupted conversation.

"What do you think he meant when he said he tricked Professor Snape --" Sirius looked affronted. "Tricked that greasy git, I mean!"

Harry thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, exactly. Professor Snape did tell me he made a promise to Moony, so I guess it's true."

He didn't see why Lupin had said 'tricked,' though. Gave him no choice, maybe, but that sounded up-front enough.

"Why would Prof-- that greasy git! agree to it?"

"Well..." Harry paused, reluctant to tell. He was pretty sure Snape would rather not have it be common knowledge. "Moony helped him out once, this summer, so I think Professor Snape felt obligated...."

"Let me guess," Sirius said, his face a thundercloud. "Did he bring him back from the dead, too?"

"No, it wasn't like that," Harry said quickly. "Professor Snape just ran into some of Voldemort's followers, and Moony was the only one who went when he sent a call for assistance, that's all."

All right, so it hadn't been quite like that, but it was close enough to the truth.

"Milo Moony, death-defying super-hero," Sirius muttered nastily. "What's he been doing, running around trying to save everyone?"

Harry felt suddenly angry with Sirius. Couldn't Sirius at least be grateful for the second chance at life he'd been given? How often did that happen?

Then he reminded himself that Sirius hadn't even known he'd died. It had to be hard to be grateful for something you had no recollection of.

"Oh, all right," Sirius grumbled, not waiting for Harry's response. "But I still don't like it...."

"I wish we wouldn't fight," Harry said. "I'm so glad you're back, Paddy. You have no idea what it was like."

Sirius sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. "It wasn't your fault. I can see that's what you're thinking, and it wasn't."

Harry looked down and shook his head. Of course it had been.

"Is that what they've been telling you?" Sirius demanded. "Making you feel guilty? IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT!"

Harry looked up, afraid Sirius' yelling was going to bring Snape down on them. "No one's said that." They didn't have to say anything. "But it was my mistake."

"You were fifteen! Do you know how many people have been duped by Voldemort? It could have happened to anyone."

Harry nodded, hoping Sirius would drop it.

But Sirius didn't. "What happened, James? What were you doing there? All I remember is Pro-- the slimy bastard! called saying you'd left school, and then a frantic call from one of our Ministry contacts saying you were there."

"I..." Harry looked down again uncomfortably. "I... had a vision."

"A vision," Sirius repeated flatly. "What do you mean?"

"Voldemort... sent a vision into my head. I saw him, and he was in the Department of Mysteries and..." He swallowed hard. "He had you."

There was complete silence, and Harry was too afraid to look up.

The bed next to him dipped suddenly, and then Sirius had his arm around him.

"I'm sorry. You went because of me."

Harry nodded, stifling a sniff. "It was so real."

"And I died," Sirius said. He sounded a little incredulous, like he still found that fact hard to believe. "I understand now."

"It was my fault," Harry whispered. "I stopped the Occlumency lessons. I never took it seriously. I didn't use my head. I didn't listen to my friends. I didn't --"

"Shh."

"And you died."

"It's over."

"But it's not over," Harry said, pulling away from him. "If anyone finds out we're here, I could lose you again. I just want all of us to be safe. I'm so tired of this war. I always thought if Voldemort was gone...."

"It doesn't work that way," Sirius said glumly. "It's not the leader that matters. There are just too many people who agree with what he was pushing."

"I know it," Harry said. "I keep thinking how it's the same now as the first time he vanished. They're more desperate now, and they're willing to do anything... because they have nothing to lose."

He thought about the Longbottoms... and Gregory Goyle's family, who had turned against Voldemort at the last minute, and Susan Bones' family, and all the other families that had been targeted. Some of the worst attacks had come after Voldemort's death, both times.

"He is dead this time, isn't he?" Sirius asked doubtfully. "Would we know if he wasn't?"

"He's dead," Harry said. "We know it. He's never coming back."

"What's being done about the rest?"

"I don't know, really," Harry said. "They haven't exactly been keeping me updated. I know a lot of Death Eaters have been rounded up, but there's just as many who haven't even been identified. We know the Ministry's crawling with them. Voldemort must have been planning a take-over for ages... and we don't know who it might be. Could be anyone."

"Like Fudge."

Harry nodded. "Probably not himself, but someone's got to him."

"The Wizengamot's been bastardized..." Sirius paused. "Or maybe not. They've been making bad decisions for decades, without needing any spies in their midst."

"Umbridge is on it now," Harry told him. "And she isn't above using Unforgiveables."

Sirius looked at him sharply. "What did you say?"

"She tried to Crucio me at the end of last year, when the D.A. got caught after a meeting."

He waited for the expected explosion, but Sirius was silent.

"Anyway," Harry went on, letting out the breath he'd been holding, "a lot of people have left Britain, and Hogwarts isn't likely to open this year. We're just waiting."

"You've said." Sirius got up and started pacing. "It sounds like our side is really hurting."

Harry winced. He knew exactly what Sirius was getting at.

Sirius must have caught sight of his face, because he stopped his pacing suddenly.

"I hate the idea of just sitting here and doing nothing."

"Me, too," Harry said, his heart speeding up. "If we get turned back to normal, I want to fight. I want to avenge everyone I've lost. I know I could --"

"Oh no, you couldn't!" Sirius exploded. "Absolutely not!"

"But you said yourself I should be part of the Order! And that was at the beginning of last year. I've done loads since then, and I know I could make a difference for our side. With three of us, that could tip the balance --"

"They can do without you!"

"Well, I'm not letting you go off and leave me here. At least if we're all together we can protect each other."

Sirius glared at him. "You are not going to fight anyone. This isn't even a possibility."

Harry glared back at him defiantly.

"What's going on?" Lupin was back, carrying a clock and with several thick books cradled in the crook of his arm. "What are you arguing about now?"

Harry could see Sirius didn't want to tell him.

"Nothing," Sirius said, trying to wipe the angry scowl off his face.

"Nothing," Harry echoed.

Lupin frowned at them, but walked over to the bookshelf and started to put away his books. He set the clock on the highest shelf he could reach.

"What took you so long?" Sirius asked. "P-- greasy git want something?"

"Just picked up some of my old books from his office."

Harry remembered seeing the box earlier.

"What were they doing in his office?"

"I had sent them there along with James' things. Of course, most of them would look too out of place here, so I'll keep them in his library instead, but a few were suitable. I'm sure we'll be spending a lot of time here."

Sirius muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Not if I can help it," which made Harry think that their argument hadn't done a bit of good. He was even afraid it might have put more ideas into Sirius' head. Maybe he shouldn't have told him so much about what was happening out there.

"Dinner's in twenty minutes," Lupin said. "There's only one bathroom, so let's take turns washing up. James, would you like to go first?"

Harry shook his head. "Paddy can be first. I want to look at your books."

Sirius sniffed derisively, like he wanted to let them know he knew they wanted to talk without him there, but he stomped from the room. Harry hoped he wouldn't run into Snape.

"Don't worry," Lupin said, apparently guessing what he was thinking. "Professor Snape's still in his office. Now, what were you really arguing about?"

"He asked what's been happening since July, and I told him. I don't know if I should have...."

"No helping it. He would have found out anyway, and there's no sense not telling him the truth."

"He wants to fight."

"Of course he does."

Harry stared at him, surprised that Lupin could be so calm about it.

"Our biggest concern is that he will give himself away, maybe even on purpose if he gets the idea that he'd be returned to normal age if that happened. I'm hoping that we will be able to convince him to be careful for the sake of keeping you out of harm's way."

"That's what I tried to do," Harry said. "I don't know that I didn't make a mess of it, though. I told him if he went, I would, too. That's what he was looking so angry about."

"Good. That should give him something to think about."

"I don't know. I think all it did was make him think he's really needed out there."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "He's the last thing that's needed out there. He'd just distract them and give them something more to worry about."

Harry started to answer, but there were footsteps outside the door and then Sirius was back.

"Done talking about me?"

"No," Lupin said shortly. In a flash he looked so angry that Harry leaned away from him. "And I will thank you not to fill his head with idiotic, dangerous ideas!"

Sirius looked startled, and looked at Harry with a slightly betrayed look on his face, like he hadn't expected Harry to tell. "I wasn't. I told him to forget about stupid stuff like that."

"How's he supposed to forget about it if you keep harping on about how you'd rather be out there than here with him? Of course he's going to think about going off with you."

"Nobody's going anywhere," Sirius snapped. "I thought you're the one who made that perfectly clear."

"I did," Lupin said. "And I meant it. Put those ideas out of your head. Your priority, like mine, is to keep James safe."

Anger flashed across Sirius' face, and Harry was sure he was about to remind them that it was Lupin who had put Harry in danger, not him.

"I am safe," Harry said quickly. "Really, and look, I've already said I don't mind staying at Hogwarts, if you're both here."

"We are," Lupin said, looking at Sirius meaningfully. "Right, Padfoot?"

"Right," Sirius said grudgingly. "We are."

Harry knew Sirius wasn't going to give up that easily. He would never accept that staying with Snape was the best option. Harry wasn't very sure of it himself; he just knew it was the only option they had.

"All right," Lupin said, apparently willing to let it go. "James, go wash up quickly, or we'll be late for dinner."

Harry left them. He had the feeling Lupin was going to say a few more things to Sirius. He just hoped Lupin knew more about keeping Sirius in check than Harry did, because Harry still wasn't sure he hadn't made a mistake telling Sirius all those things.

He splashed cold water on his face, and peered into the mirror. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in ages, and his face was pale.

It had been a very long, very draining day. He felt like there was a volcano of emotions inside him, but he couldn't deal with it right then. He would have to sort it all out later.

When he left the bathroom, Snape was back at his work table, bottling more potions and half a dozen empty cauldrons lined up in front of him waiting to be used. He ignored Harry.

Back in the bedroom, Sirius was sitting on his bed again, looking bored, and Lupin was waiting by the door.

Harry hoped Sirius wasn't going to say anything about earlier. He wanted to be done with the whole thing.

Sirius didn't speak to him, however, and Harry sat down on his own bed to wait.

Lupin came back a few minutes later, and together they left for the Great Hall.

As soon as they sat down, Sirius tore into his food as though he hadn't had anything all day.

"Manners," Lupin chided, but Sirius ignored him.

Harry looked around. The Great Hall seemed more crowded than the last time he'd been there. Had more people come to Hogwarts? McGonagall had said there'd been some sort of incident.

When he turned back, he saw Sirius stuffing his pockets full of biscuits and fruit.

He didn't think that was a good sign.

He glanced at Lupin, but it seemed he hadn't noticed.

As soon as dinner was over, Sirius wanted to explore the castle.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Lupin said. "We should go back --"

"And do what?" Sirius demanded. "He's just going to yell at us again, and there's nothing to do in that hole we're supposed to call a bedroom."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Sirius might not be too keen on their windowless dungeon room.

"He'll be glad if we stay away," Sirius continued. "You can't tell me you want to go back down there."

Lupin didn't protest any more, and they trailed after Sirius, who hadn't waited for agreement anyway.

"Where are we going?" Lupin asked when they got to the third floor.

"Up."

Lupin looked like he wanted to argue, but Sirius had reached the next staircase, and it was starting to tremble ominously, signaling that it would be changing position imminently. He grabbed Harry's arm and together they leaped on just before it broke away from the landing.

"Wait, Paddy," Harry called, because Sirius was putting a dangerous distance between them.

Sirius waited impatiently for them to catch up.

Fourth floor. Sirius didn't stop.

Fifth floor.

"Stop." Lupin had somehow got in front of Sirius, and was blocking his path. "Tell where we're going."

"Astronomy tower," Sirius said grudgingly.

"We can't get in there now," Harry told him. "It all but came down in the attack."

"Divination, then," Sirius said, unconcerned. He got around Lupin and they were off again.

Unfortunately -- or, Harry thought, very fortunately -- all the doors on the seventh floor were locked.

Sirius took Snape's wand out of his pocket -- Harry was surprised Snape hadn't taken it back -- and cast Alohomora a dozen or more times, without result, and finally gave the door in front of him several frustrated kicks... also without result.

"I don't suppose you want to have a go?" he asked, offering the wand to Lupin.

"No," Lupin said. "I don't."

"James?"

Harry shook his head. "Not unless you tell us what you want in there."

"Just want to see the view, that's all," Sirius said innocently.

"There's a window over there," Lupin said. "Have at it."

Sirius gave Lupin a very nasty look, and stomped over to the window. He leaned out so far that Lupin grabbed hold of the back of his robes, and Harry was about to do the same.

"Damn!" Sirius planted both feet back on the ground and scowled even harder. "Can't see anything from here."

Harry would have suggested they find another window, if he hadn't been afraid Sirius would try to throw himself out of that one, too.

"I really think we should go --" Lupin started, but fell abruptly silent.

"What?" Sirius asked, and turned in the same direction Lupin was facing.

Harry followed suit.

McGonagall had appeared at the end of the corridor, and there was no mistaking the fact that she was heading straight for them. The expression on her face didn't leave much to the imagination, either.

"What are you three boys doing up here?"

Sirius scowled.

Lupin looked guilty.

Harry answered. "We were just looking around, Professor. I wanted to see if Gryffindor Tower was damaged at all."

She glared at him. "You know perfectly well it wasn't, so there is no need to lie about it." She turned the glare on Sirius. "Well? Are you going to explain why after the conversation we had only this morning, I should find you roaming about the castle without supervision, and dragging your friends with you?"

Sirius looked down at his shoes. He was still scowling. "Sorry, Professor."

"Downstairs, all of you, at once. We will not be making any allowances for you. You are to follow the same rules as all the other children currently staying at the castle."

For a moment, Harry was afraid Sirius was going to explode at her, but he looked up with a very meek, "Yes, ma'am," and headed for the staircase.

"Sorry, Professor," Lupin said, cringing.

"I know he can be very difficult," McGonagall said, "but there are two of you."

"We'll do better," Lupin said. "Come on, James."

They were on the fourth floor before they managed to catch up with Sirius, who was making a point to stomp on every step.

"I don't know who she thinks she is!"

"The Headmistress of this school," Lupin said dryly. "And your elder."

Harry laughed.

"Funny," Sirius spat. "Have the two of you noticed she's treating us like we're... like we're..."

"Ten?" Lupin suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, ten!"

"Well, we are. How else would she treat us?"

"I WILL NOT BE TREATED LIKE A CHILD!"

"Be quiet," Lupin said, his own voice rising in anger. "We're not going to argue here."

Sirius ignored them both all the way down to the ground floor.

When he stopped ignoring them, it was to say peevishly, "He's not even ten. You really did a number on him."

"Shh," Lupin commanded. Then he frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius turned to look at Harry, his eyes raking him over from the top of his head down. "He's obviously not. You must have done something wrong."

"He's always been on the small side," Lupin said, also peering at Harry closely. "Haven't you, James?"

"Yeah," Harry said uncomfortably. "And Professor Snape said I'd be thirteen in two or three years."

"Shh! Can't you please whisper? When did he say that?"

"When he came to get me. He was looking to see what kind of spells were used on me."

"Didn't those bloody Muggles feed you?" Sirius muttered, apparently determined to find something disagreeable to grumble about.

Harry shuffled from one foot to another. There was no sense telling them about the Dursleys, especially when it would just make Sirius more angry.

"Sure they fed me. And so what if I'm short? My dad wasn't very tall."

"Quiet!" Lupin whispered loudly.

Harry looked around and saw that they had reached the Great Hall, which was still fairly crowded.

"I don't know why you think everyone is so damn interested in our conversations," Sirius said.

"Because it would take only one slip-up for someone to start suspecting something. Everyone's on guard these days; they've had to be."

"Not to mention," said a very cold voice from behind them, making them all jump, "the fact that there are spies everywhere."

Harry stifled a groan before turning around. How did Snape always do that?

"Professor McGonagall has just informed me of your romp on the seventh floor. Perhaps you should not be allowed out for meals."

"It won't happen again," Lupin said quickly.

"Once is enough. Had I not found you just now, no doubt you would have continued blabbing your business for all to hear."

Harry put a hand on Sirius' arm, because he could see Sirius starting to shake with barely contained rage.

"I'm needed in the infirmary," Snape continued. "I will not give you the password to my quarters, so you will either come with me, and I will find tasks to occupy you, or you will find something to do that will not draw attention to yourselves."

Harry would have liked to help out in the infirmary, but 'tasks' sounded rather ominous. Snape would probably make them clean bedpans.

"Are we needed?" Lupin asked. "I'm sure Poppy -- I mean, Madam Pomfrey -- is very busy."

"She can do without you underfoot," Snape said. "As could I."

"We'll stay here, then."

Snape gave them each a hard look, but said nothing more. They watched as he headed toward the stairs, his robes billowing around him.

"If he did have a kid," Sirius muttered bitterly, "the unlucky little bastard would be a gibbering wreck."

---

"Good night, Padfoot. Good night, James."

"'Night," said Sirius, who was the only one of them not yet in bed. He had screwed one of the bedknobs off, and was shoving Snape's wand into the hollow bedpost.

"Good night."

He tried to make himself comfortable. The bed was all right, and he was exhausted, but his mind didn't seem to want to switch off.

Sometimes, if he could clear his mind, he didn't dream as much.

Sometimes it made no difference.

Sirius is alive, he told himself. He's okay and he's right here.

He woke up in the dead of night anyway, drenched in sweat and with screams ringing in his ears.

He was disoriented, and his one thought was that he hadn't woken up screaming in a long time. He clamped a hand over his mouth.

The screaming didn't stop.

Reason returned to him, and he realized the screaming wasn't his own. There was a lot of shuffling, and then the torch flared to life, illuminating the room in its flickering orange light.

Lupin was looking from Harry to Sirius like he had no idea what he should do next.

"I'm okay," Harry choked out.

Lupin shook off his stupor and in two bounds was at Sirius' bedside.

The screaming stopped abruptly.

Harry took some deep breaths.

He had expected to still dream about Cedric. That wasn't likely to go away. Maybe not ever.

Instead, he had dreamed, for the first time, of the night Hogwarts was attacked.

That was too much. He felt bile rising in his throat, and knew he was going to be sick.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked. He had left Sirius and was kneeling next to Harry's bed.

The door banged open.

Snape, barefoot, wearing a dark dressing gown, and brandishing his wand, stormed into the room. "What is going on in here?"

Harry glanced at Sirius, who was silent now but was pale as death and clutching at the bedsheets.

"I had a nightmare," he said before Lupin could start explaining. "I'm sorry I woke you, sir."

He was surprised his voice sounded so calm. It was almost not his voice at all.

Lupin was looking at him oddly, and Harry willed him not to say anything. This wasn't Snape's concern.

Snape sniffed irritably, looking like he was sorry he'd got out of bed for this. "We're out of Dreamless Sleep."

"That's all right," Harry said. There was never enough of the stuff.... "I don't need any. I'm sure it was just a one-time thing."

Snape sniffed again, and turned to go. "Go back to bed."

When he had gone, Lupin sat down on the edge of his own bed and looked at both of them worriedly. "Are you all right? Do you want to talk about it?"

Sirius picked up his fallen blanket off the floor and started dusting it off, avoiding looking at either of them.

"Just more of the usual," Harry lied. He didn't feel like talking about the dream. At least he didn't feel sick anymore; he'd forgotten he was about to be when Snape had burst in, and now his stomach had settled.

"Padfoot?"

"I don't recall," Sirius said in a hollow voice, pulling the blanket up to his chin and turning toward the wall. "I'd like to go back to sleep now, if you don't mind."

Looking reluctant, Lupin walked over and snuffed out the torch. Harry heard him getting back into bed.

He lay awake for a long time.

He was sure it wasn't a coincidence that he had this dream right after his talk with Sirius. Maybe talking about it had finally made it real enough to dream about.

He wondered what horrors had haunted Sirius in his sleep. His own dreams were terrible, but he never woke up screaming like that.

For a few moments before he opened his eyes, Harry experienced the terrifying sensation that everything that had happened the previous day might have been a dream. There was complete silence around him, as though he were alone in his bedroom back at Grimmauld Place. All he could hear was the sound of his own quickened breathing.

"James... pssst! James!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he propped himself up on his elbows to see over the lump that was Lupin in the bed between him and Sirius. In the dark he could only see Sirius' general shape.

"Think it's time for breakfast yet?"

Harry shook his head.

It took him a moment to realize that Sirius could see him no better than he could see Sirius. "No. I think it's still early."

Sirius' shape flopped back onto the pillow. "I don't suppose you still have your Invisibility Cloak?"

"No," Harry said, once again glad that Snape had taken it and he didn't have to lie to keep it out of Sirius' hands. The thought irritated him, and he shook his head again, scowling.

"Can't you two sleep like normal people?" said Lupin, throwing off the covers and sitting up, sounding ill-tempered. "It's five in the morning!"

"Sorry," Harry said. "Wait... how do you know what time it is?"

Lupin turned in the direction of the bookshelf, which to Harry was just another shape in the darkness. "The clock, of course."

Harry frowned.

"He's a werewolf," Sirius supplied helpfully after a few moments.

"Oh. Can werewolves see in the dark?"

"No," Lupin said, still sounding irritable.

"Better than the rest of us."

"Oh," Harry said again. He wished Lupin wasn't in a bad mood, but he supposed after the night they'd had, it wasn't surprising that he was.

A thin strip of yellowish brightness cut the darkness, making them all look in the direction of the door. A light had come on in the main room.

"Shhh!" Lupin warned, unnecessarily. Harry didn't think any of them were keen on having Snape come in for the second time in one night to demand what was going on.

They could hear Snape's footsteps, his heeled boots clicking dully on the stone floor, but while Snape seemed to walk several times across the room, he never came near the bedroom door.

"I wonder what he's doing up so early," Sirius muttered.

"Who cares, as long as he stays out there."

"He's probably checking his potions," Lupin said. "Now be quiet!"

After another minute of listening to Snape's pacing, Sirius lost interest and lay back down.

Harry settled down as well, and tried to shut his eyes and go back to sleep, but found himself too wide awake to manage it.

Besides, he needed to use the bathroom. Badly.

Great timing.

"I need to use the bathroom," he said to no one in particular.

"You can't go out there."

"Of course he can," Lupin said. "Go on, James. Just say 'Good morning' as politely as you can and ignore him otherwise."

Sirius snorted.

Harry got out of bed and shuffled toward the door. He wished he had slippers, or that he could find his shoes in the dark, because the stone floor sent shockwaves of cold through his feet. The nightclothes Snape had provided were not warm enough for the dungeons, either.

Snape looked up as Harry opened the door, but didn't say anything. Harry ignored Lupin's suggestion and headed to the bathroom without a word.

---

They had to eat breakfast at a small, round table in the corner of Snape's office. The only sound was that of Snape's quill scratching its way down a length of parchment. Occasionally, Snape would lift the quill long enough to look up and glare at them.

None of them asked why they couldn't eat in the Great Hall. Harry hoped Snape hadn't been serious about not letting them out for meals anymore, and was just making a point.

Their misery ended when McGonagall came in half-way through their glum meal, took one look at them, and threw them out. Before they even knew it, they were standing out in the chilly dungeon corridor with their plates and glasses of pumpkin juice in their hands.

"Nice," Sirius muttered. "That woman...."

"Oh, be quiet, Paddy," Lupin said warningly. His mood had clearly not improved much since their early rising.

They carried the remains of their breakfast up to the Great Hall and joined the children already there.

They happened to sit down facing the doors, which had been left ajar, and through them they saw Snape and McGonagall walking briskly in the direction of the staff room. McGonagall was carrying a stack of official-looking envelopes -- the same sort that Hogwarts students received their school letters in.

"I wonder what that's all about," Lupin said thoughtfully.

"Opening Hogwarts again," Sirius said promptly.

Lupin whirled on him. "What?"

Sirius, who has stuffed more bacon and eggs into his mouth, raised one eyebrow and chewed sloppily, clearly enjoying having their attention.

Harry, like Lupin, couldn't help but lean forward expectantly.

Finally, Sirius swallowed. "Yesterday, after McGonagall was done with me, she stayed to talk to the greasy git. I stuck around, naturally, and heard most of it." He paused maddeningly. "They're planning to reopen it. This year. If they can find enough teachers to cover the core subjects."

"But..." Harry began, frowning. He had been feeling rather safe in the knowledge that Hogwarts would stay closed. No matter what kind of mess his life was currently in, he could at least hope that in a year things would straighten out. "But it's practically October already. And half the students won't come back. They can't expect families to send children back to school after fleeing the country to keep them safe."

He looked at Lupin for agreement, but Lupin frowned and stayed silent.

"Don't shoot the messenger," Sirius said, spearing a sausage with his fork. "Just telling you what I heard."

Harry looked down at his plate, suddenly a lot less hungry than he had been before.

"They said something about you, too," Sirius said, jerking his fork in Harry's direction, "but I didn't hear what, exactly."

Harry sniffed irritably. Of course they had said something about him.

"I suppose..." Lupin began, but shook his head and trailed off. "Never mind."

"What?" Harry asked, his irritation increasing. "What were you going to say?"

Lupin looked down at his plate, as if he didn't want to -- or couldn't -- look at Harry. "Hogwarts has never been closed before, and it was right to open this year. What happened was tragic and terrible, but --"

"Oh, come on," Sirius said, glancing at Harry like he was fearing an explosion. "If it hadn't been opened --"

"Then Voldemort would have found other ways to target the people he wanted to target," Lupin said, raising his head defiantly. "The whole lot of us couldn't hide in our homes and think that just because Hogwarts was closed there wasn't any danger."

They were silent for a long time.

"It's not fair," Harry said finally. "I'll be a year behind everyone if...." He trailed off, unable to voice all the ifs running through his head.

He sighed. He knew he was just one person, and that keeping the school closed just because his life was messed up was not fair to everyone else, but he couldn't completely let go of the idea that in a year things might have returned to a semblance of normalcy, and he could be back at school with all his friends....

All the friends he had left, anyway.

Maybe he knew that nothing would ever be the same again, but could he be blamed for hoping that some things, at least, wouldn't change? He still had Ron and Hermione. Was it so wrong to want to spend his last two years at Hogwarts with them?

"They can't make you repeat a year," Sirius said bracingly. "The worst that will happen is you'll miss a few boring classes and -- Ow!" He rubbed his arm and scowled at Lupin. "What is your problem?"

Lupin ignored him. "Think about it this way, James. Either way you would be sitting out a year, and with Hogwarts open there's at least the chance that you will be able to see your friends. We can't promise that you'd be able to tell them right away, but it's something to think about."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't help imagining what it might be like to see Ron and Hermione every day, but not to be able to speak to them. It might be easier not to see them at all.

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, and then Sirius pushed aside his empty plate and stood up.

"Come on, it's a fine day out. Let's get out of here."

Harry hadn't finished his food, but he was glad for the excuse to leave the Great Hall.

They went out into the neglected gardens, and Sirius led them down an overgrown path Harry wasn't familiar with. It ran alongside a low, mossy stone wall, and ended in a grove of trees behind the greenhouses.

Sirius sat down on the stone wall and swung his legs. "So. I wonder what they'll do with us."

"Huh?" Harry said, climbing up next to him.

"We're not old enough to start Hogwarts," Sirius pointed out. "Even if it opens, we're still stuck with Pr-- the greasy git."

Harry looked at Lupin, but Lupin shrugged.

"So what do you want to do today?" Sirius asked. "We could raid the broom shed and make a break for Hogsmeade, or --" He stopped, because Lupin was looking reproachfully at him. "I'm joking."

There was a rather uncomfortable pause.

"What's with you two?" Sirius asked, shaking his head disgustedly. "Can't I --"

"Boys!"

Sirius' eyes rolled right up into his head.

McGonagall was bearing down on them, and Harry jumped down off the wall, followed by Sirius, who was muttering mutinously.

"What do you mean by going off without letting anyone know where you are?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Sorry, Professor," Lupin said.

She ignored him in favor of taking Sirius by the upper arm and starting to drag him back in the direction of the castle.

Exchanging a helpless glance, Harry and Lupin followed.

---

"We're going to have to do something about her."

They were sitting in the library, where McGonagall had taken them with the instructions that they were not to budge until the lunch hour.

"What did you have in mind?" Lupin asked without looking up. He was the only one of them with a book.

Sirius snorted and returned to the task of shredding a scrap of parchment into bitty pieces.

Harry was torn between commiserating with Sirius and being glad McGonagall had cut short their morning romp.

The trouble was, he was bored. And if he was bored, so was Sirius. And it was only a matter of time before Sirius found a way to alleviate that boredom.

Sirius heaved a great suffering sigh and pushed away from the table. "That's it! This is intolerable!"

"Well, what did you used to do when you were our age and in school?" Harry asked, a little desperately.

"Oh, don't get him started," Lupin said before Sirius' had time to do more than open his mouth to reply. He let his book fall closed. "He'll tell you we spent all our time hunting for secret passages and stealing from the kitchens --"

"Not a bad idea!" Sirius cut in angrily. "I think I will!"

And that was what they did.

After Madam Pince had thrown them out for making a ruckus, Sirius stomped off toward the stairs, and Harry and Lupin had no choice but to try and keep up.

"I don't think this is what McGonagall had in mind," Lupin muttered as they followed Sirius through the portrait opening and into the dimly lit kitchen.

Harry didn't doubt that, but he figured there was relatively little trouble that Sirius could get into in the Hogwarts kitchen. "It's not like we're leaving the castle."

Lupin frowned. "There are plenty of places right inside this castle I don't think they want us going. Especially him."

Harry shrugged. He could think of a few himself, but the kitchen wasn't on the list and he still didn't see the harm.

"You're right, James," Lupin said, sighing. "Keeping him too tightly reined in might not be the best thing."

Harry nodded, but distractedly. They had stopped just inside the door and he had finally looked around.

Every other time that he had been in the kitchen, it had been bustling with activity. It took him a moment just to realize that no house-elves had come running to see what the three of them needed. In fact....

"What happened to them all?" he asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Sirius, who had stopped short a few feet in front of them, turned to hear Lupin's answer.

"Some were bound to Dumbledore personally, and were set loose after he died. Most had been on loan from the Ministry of Magic, and were removed to fill needs elsewhere. Some...." Lupin trailed off.

"So... this is all that's left?" Harry asked, waving his hand to indicate the fewer than a dozen elves working over at the far corner of the cavernous room, where several large cauldrons bubbled over open flames.

"Oh well," Sirius said in a somewhat false tone of unconcern. "Easier to get in, get what we want, and get back out, I say."

Harry watched him gathering an armload of food, taking nothing himself but accepting what Sirius couldn't manage to hold on to. Lupin did the same.

"You two are no fun," Sirius said with a shake of his head. "What's the point of risking life and limb if you're not going to enjoy yourselves?"

"Sorry," Lupin said dryly, "the old zing seems gone. Raiding the school kitchen might be one of those things that only thrill schoolboys."

Sirius stopped, his shoulders drooping, and looked balefully at him. "You injure me, Moony."

They laughed.

Harry frowned, feeling left out of the joke.

"Come on," Sirius said, still chuckling, "we need to stash this stuff before McGonagall can spoil our party."

Harry frowned again. "Where do we stash it?"

"I'm sure we'll find a place," Sirius said, already heading for the exit. He started humming under his breath.

"All right... but...."

Lupin seemed unconcerned as Sirius led them to the second floor, and Harry watched the two of them struggle with Snape's spare wand until a series of raps had the desired effect on a section of wood paneling.

"Welcome to our humble... hideout," Sirius said, bowing deeply before gathering up his load of food and stepping first through the narrow opening into the darkness beyond.

"Come on, James," Lupin said, following Sirius.

Harry hesitated just for a moment. He was sure neither McGonagall nor Snape would approve of the three of them disappearing into some secret room no one else knew of. Then again, if Lupin didn't think it was a bad idea....

He followed them in, bending low to avoid hitting his head. He pushed the panel closed behind him just as Sirius lit a lamp, cutting the darkness with yellowish light.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked after giving Harry a minute to look around. "Nice, eh?"

It was... or at least Harry was sure he and Ron and Hermione would have thought so in their younger years. He imagined that later they would have found the place cramped, but for a trio of Firsties it certainly would have seemed like the perfect little secret hidey-hole to get away from teachers and annoying classmates.

He shook his head to clear the thought. He was there with Sirius and Lupin, not Ron and Hermione.

He let a smile spread over his face. "It's great! I don't recall it being on the Map."

"That's because we'd lost interest in the place by the time we'd made the Map," Lupin said. "There are a few placed we'd left off."

"And some we left off purposely," Sirius added.

"You'll have to show me."

"Gladly!" Sirius said, his grin widening, while Lupin's smile faltered. "Now, look here...."

There was a stash of comics and old magazines that Harry was sure weren't allowed at Hogwarts, old Zonko's products enough to annoy Filch for a full year, a collection of photographs showing various students in embarrassing situations (Snape made a regular appearance), and a number of objects that seemed to be unfinished experiments in enchantment.

Sirius held one up to the light. It was a glass sphere with amber liquid sloshing around inside. "Do you remember what this was supposed to be?"

Lupin shook his head. "No."

"Oh well." Sirius dropped it back in the box. "I don't either. Too long ago...." And his voice trailed off as he stared moodily at the dancing shadows on the wall.

Harry had claimed a spot on an overstuffed pillow, and now he leaned back and shut his eyes.

"I think we'd better go," Lupin said.

Harry reluctantly opened his eyes again. The silence had been kind of cozy.

"Right," said Sirius, "before that old bat starts looking for us."

Lupin gave him a withering look, but said nothing. He stood up and offered Harry a hand. "Come on."

Harry started to follow them out, but stopped short suddenly. "Wait. Aren't we going to eat any of this stuff?"

Sirius waved his hand dismissively without even turning around. "Nah. Can't you hear the clock? It's lunch time."

Harry dragged his eyes away from the mound of food they had disobeyed McGonagall's direct instructions to obtain. Lupin had opened the panel and was checking that the coast was clear. He gave the all-clear signal and he and Sirius stepped out into the hallway.

"Come on, James, before anyone sees us," Lupin urged. "Oh, and get the lamp, will you?"

---

Snape was looking down his long, crooked nose at them, and the expression on his face was one of barely restrained murderous intent. "Where were you?"

Harry couldn't help letting his eyes dart in Sirius' direction. Sirius appeared to be sullenly studying his shoes, but Harry could see that his fists were tightly clenched at his sides.

"Library," Harry said hastily. "Professor McGon--"

"McGonagall was in here less than twenty minutes ago to tell me you had gone missing once again," Snape said, his narrowed eyes boring into Harry's. "Do not lie to me."

Harry swallowed guiltily and fell silent, dropping his eyes.

"It won't happen again," Lupin offered. He, too, was trying not to look directly at Snape.

"I highly doubt that."

"What's it to you?" Sirius snarled, apparently having reached the end of his tether. "We weren't doing anything that's any of your damn business!"

Harry groaned. He'd known Sirius wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut, but he'd been hoping Sirius wouldn't come out with something utterly idiotic and bait Snape into making their punishment -- because there was sure to be a punishment -- ten times worse.

Sirius seemed not to notice the fire flashing in Snape's eyes, because he went on heedlessly. "Can we get back to our lunch now? You're the one always going on about not calling attention to ourselves, so how do you think it looks when you drag us out of the Great Hall in front of everybody? And another thing --"

But they didn't get to find out what the other thing was. With one lightning quick swipe, Snape had seized Sirius by the arm, hauled him across the room, yanked open the bedroom door, shoved him inside, and shut him in with a thunderous bang.

There was a momentary silence.

Snape's chest was heaving, and his customarily sallow cheeks were splotched with red.

"I... I don't think that was a good idea," Lupin said cautiously.

"Get back to the Great Hall."

Harry knew that low, deadly tone very well, and his feet obeyed without his mind telling them to. He was practically at the door before he realized that Lupin had not followed him.

"I really don't think you can leave him in there."

Harry looked from Lupin to Snape and then to the bedroom door, from behind which came indistinct yelling and muffled thumps.

"Get. Back. To. The. Great. Hall."

"It'll just make him worse. If you --"

---

"Mr. McKenna."

Harry put down his fork, which he had been idly twirling in his hand, his plate untouched, and looked up at McGonagall. "Yes, Professor?"

"Where are your friends?"

Harry sighed with resignation. "Professor Snape locked them in our room."

She stared at him for a moment, then cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses. "I see. Well, Mr. McKenna, I believe I shall accompany you back to Professor Snape's quarters."

Harry stood up and climbed over the bench, and followed McGonagall silently back down to the dungeons.

There was no answer at the door, but McGonagall, undaunted, led him to Snape's office.

Snape was indeed there, looking much calmer than Harry had last seen him, and writing in a thin leather book that Harry recognized with a slight lurch in his stomach. It was the lesson plan book he had sometimes seen Snape consult during Potions class.

So it had to be true. They were planning to reopen Hogwarts.

"Sit," McGonagall said, and Harry sat down on one end of the hard bench in front of Snape's desk.

"Don't tell me he's in more trouble," Snape said, glaring at Harry.

"No," McGonagall said. "I merely came to see if you needed any assistance with the other two." She looked pointedly at Snape. "I believe we should discuss how we plan to keep young Puddifoot in line."

Snape gave her the briefest of nods before his gaze turned upon Harry. "McKenna, wait out in the hall."

Harry left without a word.

The door shut behind him. For a moment he stood still, unsure of what to do. The low-lit dungeon corridor was kind of creepy, even in the daytime.

He leaned against the wall with a resigned huff.

"I don't think you're choosing the best way of handling him, Severus."

Harry jumped away from the wall in shock.

Surely they'd use a silencing charm...?

But they hadn't.

He slid down the wall to a sitting position and put the side of his head against the door frame.

"What do you suggest, then?" Snape's muffled voice demanded. "I should let him run around the castle doing anything he damn well pleases? Or to speak to me with blatant disrespect?"

There was a pause, as though McGonagall hesitated before replying.

"I have found myself forgetting, at times, that he is not a ten year old boy. Perhaps expecting him to show us the same respect we would expect from students is unreasonable."

"It's nothing of the sort. He must start as he is meant to go on."

"What do you mean?"

Harry leaned even closer, the tension in McGonagall's voice setting him on alert.

"I mean, Minerva, that the three miscreants will most likely spend the next seven years -- at least! -- as our students. Not to mention the fact that all our lives depend on their remaining undiscovered. Allowing them any leeway in their expected behavior puts all of us in danger.... And as for that mutt, I wish I had left him where he belongs -- in an Azkaban cell! That idiot is going to get us all killed."

"You knew he would be difficult. Look at it from his point of view. This must be quite an adjustment to make --"

"I don't give a damn what sort of an adjustment it is for him! If he is an adult as you claim, he would see the sense in keeping his head down. One would think he wants to go back to Azkaban, and to drag as many of us with him as he can manage."

"I'm certain that isn't true," McGonagall said with the air of someone tiring of listening to nonsense. Harry knew that tone well. "Although I will agree that none of the three appear to grasp the full gravity of the situation. Now, what is to be done with them?"

Harry didn't hear Snape's response, but it made McGonagall snort impatiently.

"Be serious, Severus. We need to address this problem before it comes to a head."

"Fine. Do you have any ideas?"

McGonagall sighed audibly. "I'm afraid nothing that would be immediately useful."

"Then let me deal with them my way."

"By locking them up? I'm afraid that will only incite rebellion. I thought by appealing to them to consider James' safety --"

"Ha! Since when have either of them been concerned about his safety? One has been prodding him into taking unnecessary chances for years now, and the other -- well, I suppose you've forgotten the little incident when McKenna was almost eaten?"

"I haven't forgotten," McGonagall said cooly. "And please refrain from shouting." There was a lengthy pause. "Yes, I do see your point. Still, I don't believe they intentionally put him in danger. They do care deeply about him, Severus. I thought that was something we could use."

"I don't see it working very well," Snape said flatly. "As it stands, I don't know how we can possibly allow them into the dorms, where they will be under even less supervision than they are now. Do you still believe enrolling them as students should even be considered?"

"I can't imagine what else we could do with them. At least we shall know where they are most of the day."

"As if that ever made a difference." Snape sniffed bitterly. "Well, is there a precedent, at least? We wouldn't want to draw even more attention to them. As my wards they will already have an elevated profile at Hogwarts."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "There is. Granted, it hasn't been done in decades, but I believe with the current situation being what it is, it will not seem odd."

"I will inform them of the decision, then. That way we will have a few days to make alternate arrangements should it become clear that this plan is doomed."

"Don't be so melodramatic."

Snape snorted irritably, and didn't reply.

"I do wish we had a solution to the problem of Mr. Puddifoot," McGonagall said. "When do you plan to let them out? Perhaps I could speak with him again."

"What for? It had no impact on his behavior the last time you did. No, I'll deal with him myself. As for letting them out, I would much rather pitch McKenna in with them for the rest of the day -- speaking of McKenna...!"

A chair scraped across the floor, and Harry scrambled up off the floor hastily.

He spotted a bench not far down the corridor, and practically threw himself on it. He tried to school his features into a bored expression, like he had been sitting there all along instead of squatting on the floor with his ear pressed so hard to the door that it had actually grown slightly numb.

"McKenna --" Snape had thrown open the door and stuck his head out. He looked relieved when he saw Harry. "Come inside."

As Harry moved to obey, McGonagall came out of Snape's office, bid them good afternoon, and headed for the stairs.

Which left him alone with Snape.

He plopped himself down and looked at his hands folded in his lap. He wasn't going to let Snape find out he'd heard everything. He'd have to pretend whatever Snape told him was all news to him.

Snape cleared his throat, but Harry didn't look up.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, McKenna."

Harry looked up and focused his gaze somewhere over Snape's left shoulder.

Snape muttered something about vacant-eyed stupidity. "The Headmistress and I have decided to enroll you as a first year student once Hogwarts opens."

He stopped and waited.

Harry struggled to pull a surprised look over his face. "Opens? What do you mean, sir?"

"It's been decided that Hogwarts will reopen. Classes will begin Monday. Letters have already gone out."

"Oh. That's... that's...."

"Exactly," Snape said grimly. "Now, the three of you can either stay locked up during the school day, or you can attend classes. It's up to you."

Harry had to struggle to keep his eyes from darting over to Snape's face. Of course Snape was serious.

Anyway, there didn't seem to be much choice. It looked like he'd be repeating his first year.

"I'd rather attend classes."

"I thought you would," Snape said, and Harry could tell he was rolling his eyes. "I'll leave it up to you to tell the others." He paused. "I expect you to report any... whisperings of mutiny."

This time Harry couldn't help his head swiveling to face Snape. So, Snape expected him to be a spy for him?

"In fact," Snape continued, his lips a thin line, "is there anything you would like to tell me now? About Puddifoot?"

Harry forced himself to look away. "Like what?"

"DO NOT," Snape snarled, hitting the desk with his fist, "PLAY DUMB!"

Harry, who had almost been startled out his seat, blinked up at him before recalling that he shouldn't make eye-contact. "I'm not! I just don't know -- it's only been a day! It's not like he's had time to plot anything!"

Realizing he'd said more than he'd intended, Harry clamped his mouth shut and looked down at his hands.

"Oh, but he will, you can count on that," Snape said, glaring at him. "And it will be your hide on the line when he does, so it's in your best interest to tell me anything you know."

"I don't know anything," Harry muttered, but a small part of him had the feeling that Snape had a valid point. "All right, fine. You want to know what's going on?"

"No, McKenna," Snape said in a very dark tone. "I need to know what's going on."

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly. He wished Snape would yell at him rather than make sense. "It's about what you'd expect. He doesn't understand why we aren't allowed to go anywhere in the castle, and it's getting him wound up." He shrugged. "And he thinks if he returned to his normal age he'd be useful to our side."

Snape snorted. "Useful as a hole in the head."

"I think we've convinced him he has to stay. I mean, he promised me he wouldn't try to leave."

"A lot that's worth."

Harry pursed his lips and ignored him. "But I don't think he's very happy about it, and --"

"I don't care about his happiness. I only care about his obedience."

"We're trying our best!" Harry said defiantly. "The only reason we left the library this morning is because he couldn't stand sitting there for hours -- and I don't blame him!"

There was a silence, which Snape allowed to stretch uncomfortably.

"Are you going to tell me where you went?"

"No," Harry said, scowling. "But it wasn't outside the castle, and it wasn't dangerous."

"I would be a much better judge of that than you, McKenna!" Snape's nostrils flared, and he seemed to be struggling to control himself. "Was it the Room of Requirement?"

"No," Harry said. "I know that's off limits. I don't think either of them know how to get in."

"Make sure it stays that way."

Harry nodded. The Room of Requirement held nothing but bad memories now, anyway.

"Is there anything else?"

"No."

"McKenna," Snape said warningly. "Is there anything else?"

"I told you, no."

Snape took a few huffy breaths, but apparently decided to let it drop. "You should receive your letters today. We will need to get you wands and school supplies."

Harry's head snapped up. "Wands?"

"How do you expect to do magic without a wand?"

"But... we can't do magic," Harry pointed out.

"You'll learn," Snape said cooly. "I expect you'll be the lowest in your year, but underachievement is nothing new to you, is it McKenna?"

Harry bristled, but held his tongue.

"There will be no Quidditch, of course; no extracurricular activities of any sort. You will eat meals with other students and attend classes... I have not decided if you will sleep in the dorms."

Harry nodded.

He waited for Snape to continue, but the silence stretched. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer and looked up.

Snape was studying him.

"What?" Harry said before he could stop himself. "I mean.... Sorry, sir."

"In order to make it appear reasonable for me to take you on as my wards, your backgrounds had to be... appropriate."

Harry had no idea what Snape meant by that.

"The McKenna family, for instance, was one of the oldest Slytherin families; older even than the Black family."

Harry understood, with a lurch in his stomach.

"The Puddifoot family has historically sorted Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Milo Moony is an invention -- he is meant to be the illegitimate half-blood son of one of my year-mates who has been dead for a number of years. So...." Snape let his voice trail off and fixed Harry with a very ugly look.

"Slytherin or Hufflepuff, is that what you're saying?" Harry said, his voice almost breaking. "Because it would look really odd if all three of us were sorted into Gryffindor?"

"Hufflepuff currently has no Head of House," Snape said grimly. "I expect we will find someone --"

"But you want to keep tabs on us yourself," Harry guessed with a sigh. "I get it. Fine. I just don't know how Paddy's going to take it."

"Oh, I can tell you how he'll take it," Snape said. He laughed darkly. "Which is why I expect you to come to me if you so much as suspect that he's thinking of doing anything to jeopardize our plan."

Harry nodded miserably. Most likely Sirius would do something stupid. Harry felt like doing something stupid himself at the thought of being in Slytherin.

"You will be sorted along with the other first years. Should the Sorting Hat attempt to place you in the wrong House --"

"You mean it isn't fixed?" Harry exclaimed. "But what if it --"

"The Sorting Hat cannot be 'fixed', as you so eloquently put it. It is a very old and very powerful magical object."

"Like the Goblet of Fire?" Harry muttered resentfully. Aloud, he said, "So how do we get sorted into Slytherin, then? Moony hasn't got a Slytherin bone in his body, and Paddy will want to be sorted anywhere but."

"And you?" Snape inquired in a low tone.

Harry hesitated, part of him upset enough to want to tell Snape he'd rather face Voldemort again than be sorted into Snape's House.

That wouldn't be true, besides being rude and ungrateful.

"I'll be all right, I suppose," he said. "The Hat did try to put me into Slytherin before."

Snape's eyes bulged slightly. Harry imagined the idea that he could have had Harry Potter in Slytherin all these years was rather unsettling to the man. "And why didn't it?"

"I didn't want it to."

"You have your answer, then," Snape said. "The Sorting Hat considers your qualities, it's true, and your family history as well, but in the end it will put you where you are determined to go. Most students, aside from the Muggleborns who know nothing of the Houses, come to Hogwarts already expecting to be sorted into a particular House. The Sorting Hat tends to oblige them."

Harry sighed. He could just imagine explaining to Sirius that not only did they have to be in Slytherin, they had to want to be there more than any place else.

"You will let me know if you cannot manage it," Snape said, and stood up. "Now, come along."

Harry trudged after Snape as Snape led him back to his quarters. He guessed he knew what was coming.

"You'll have the rest of the day to ensure the plan is accepted," Snape told him. "I may let you take dinner in the Great Hall, if it appears there's no trouble looming."

Great, Harry thought bleakly. We'll be locked in till doomsday.

To Snape, he just nodded.

Snape raised his wand and unlocked the bedroom door with a hard flick.

Harry pulled the door open and went inside.

The door shut behind him, and the lock clicked into place.

Harry took a deep breath before looking up, expecting to have Sirius pounce on him and demand to know what Snape had done.

Sirius did not pounce. He wasn't even looking at Harry. He was on his bed, sitting with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up.

Lupin dragged his eyes from Harry to Sirius and back again with a guarded expression. "Come sit down, James. How was lunch?"

Harry had the distinct impression that he had walked into the aftermath of a very unpleasant scene.

He sat down gingerly on the edge of his bed. "It was all right, I guess."

He had no idea how he would begin. What Snape was expecting seemed an impossible task.

"Good," Lupin said in a somewhat strained voice. "You were gone for some time...."

"Professor Snape wanted to tell me some... things."

Sirius made a sound that could best be described as a half-hearted snort.

Lupin studied Harry's face for a moment. "Did Professor Snape ask you to relay a message?"

"Yes, but...."

Lupin's brows creased and his eyes darted in Sirius' direction. "I think you might as well."

Harry hesitated. He had no idea what was going on, and what he said wouldn't be taken well under the best circumstances. It looked to him like nerves were already frayed to the breaking point.

"Hogwarts is going to open on Monday --"

"This Monday?"

"Yes. I don't know how many students they'll get on such short notice, but there you go. They want us to join the first year class. I overheard them say something about there being a precedent for it or something."

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose like he might be getting a headache.

"They're going to Sort us, but Professor Snape isn't sure he'll let us stay in the dorms. We're supposed to get our letters today, and I think he's going to take us for our wands and school things."

Lupin's headache had to be the sort that felt like a troll stamping around inside your skull. Finally he looked up, sighing. "I suppose the Sorting has been assured to yield very particular results?"

A bitter sniff came from Sirius' corner of the room, to remind them they had an audience.

"Not... exactly," Harry said, steeling himself. "He said the Sorting Hat can't be fixed, so we... we kind of have to do it ourselves."

Lupin's hand, which had been rubbing his temple, fell into his lap. He stared at Harry in consternation. "Do it ourselves? What does that mean?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "He said the Hat will put us where we want to go."

Lupin looked from Harry to Sirius and back again. "So," he said faintly, "we just have to make up our minds to... to...."

Harry nodded miserably. He had been rather hoping that Lupin would take the news well. He needed him to help calm Sirius.

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, there had been no reaction from Sirius, where he had been expecting an eruption of epic proportions.

He turned slowly, dreading whatever was coming.

Sirius was staring at the both of them, a slightly puzzled, knitted-brow look on his face, like everything hadn't quite slammed into place yet.

Suddenly he pushed away from the wall with a horrible expression twisting his face, his arms folding tightly over his chest.

Harry braced himself, but Sirius did not begin yelling. He paced like a madman, muttering under his breath, his face thunderous.

"Uh," Harry said weakly, "so... so I reckon we're better off as first years than not, because Professor Snape and McGonagall are planning to keep us locked up much of the time if we don't do it."

Sirius' muttering increased in both volume and hostility, and he threw himself back on the bed, wincing when his shoulders hit the wall.

"What's with him?" Harry whispered to Lupin.

Lupin shrugged and looked worriedly at Sirius.

"I'm not doing it," Sirius declared through gritted teeth. "You can tell that barmy git I'd rather go back to Azkaban."

"You don't mean that," Lupin said disapprovingly; Harry thought he detected a hint of anger in his voice, too, though Lupin was trying to look calm.

Sirius' grimace indicated that he did in fact mean it.

"It wouldn't be that bad, really, "Harry said quickly. "And at least we can learn to do magic again. Professor Snape said we should be able to --"

"NOT going to do it!" Sirius snarled, his face flooding with color. "GET that through your damn head!"

"Hey!" Lupin exclaimed, anger erasing all the false calm. "That's out of line, Padfoot. You've got no right to speak to him like that."

The look Sirius threw their way was murderous. Without another word, he turned his back on them and yanked the blanket over his head.

"Oh, just leave him," Lupin said irritably when Harry made a move to get up. "It's no use when he's like this."

Harry sat down again reluctantly. "It's just that..." He hesitated, lowering his voice to a bare whisper. "Professor Snape isn't letting us out until we've agreed."

"Then we'll rot here," Lupin said calmly, "because there is no way Padfoot will willingly do this. I'll speak to Professor Snape about his unrealistic expectations."

"How --?" Harry began, but his mouth fell shut as Lupin walked to the door, rapped smartly four times, and was promptly let out.

Snape must have been waiting on the other side. Maybe even listening in the whole time. Harry thought he caught a glimpse of black robes as the door swung shut behind Lupin.

That left Harry alone with Sirius. He felt like he had to at least try to do what he'd told Snape he would, because he wasn't convinced Lupin knew what he was up against.

"Uh... Paddy?"

There was no response; Sirius was clearly determined to ignore him.

"It's just that... I can see their point. No one would ever expect me to be in Slytherin. If we're Gryffindors again, it's like inviting people to compare."

Silence.

"I don't think it's so bad, really. We probably won't even stay in the dorms."

Not even a twitch.

"We could keep an eye out for any trouble," Harry offered rather desperately. "There could be Death Eaters out for blood, and Slytherin's the right place to ferret out any plots."

Nothing.

He sighed. "You know, I was almost sorted into Slytherin last time. Of course, now that I think about it, the Hat might have been seeing that bit of Voldemort in me. Still, if I hadn't talked it into putting me into Gryffindor, you'd have a Slytherin for a Godson."

He'd expected that to have an unpleasant effect, but once again the blanketed lump that was Sirius didn't so much as breathe.

"You'd still have broken out of Azkaban and tried to find me, wouldn't you have? Or would you have let Wormtail do away with me?"

Usually the mere mention of Wormtail lit a fire under Sirius, but to Harry's frustration it had no effect at all.

He huffed peevishly. "Oh, all right. Ignore me."

He looked around for something to do, and noticed a few new items had been left on the desk. Upon closer inspection they were Quidditch Through the Ages, a battered Gobstones set, quills, ink, and parchment.

He carried the book over to his bed, but didn't open it. He had just remembered that he had three letters he'd yet to open.

He looked at Sirius, who hadn't moved at all. Harry wondered how he wasn't suffocating under the woolen blanket.

The temptation was too much, especially since he didn't know when he would get another private moment.

He retrieved the letters from the odd little cupboard behind the hidden panel and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. What he'd really wanted to do was to get inside the cupboard and shut himself in, but he reckoned he wanted to know if Sirius decided to stop his childish sulking.

He tore open Ron's letter first, but almost couldn't bring himself to read it.

Dear Harry,

Mum's been at me to write. Sorry
mate, I haven't been in the mood
these past weeks.

Charlie's come, finally. I think
Mum's been putting off falling
apart until he got here.

Bill's much better. Been out of
bed for a few days and he can see
more than shadows now. The
healers reckon he likely will
recover completely.

We're crammed in like sardines here,
but I do wish you could come
stay with us. We heard Hogwarts
might stay closed, and I couldn't
stand not seeing you all year. It
better not be true.

I hope to see you before too long.

Ron

His eyes watered, and he wiped them roughly with the back of his hand.

He hated what all of this must have done to the Weasleys. It sounded like they hadn't been doing so well to begin with, and he was sure hearing of Harry's death would have devastated them.

A voice in the back of his head asked nastily if they might not feel it was all for nothing, taking him in and protecting him at their own expense, only to have him get killed anyway.

He shoved that thought away as hard as he could, crammed Ron's letter back into the envelope, and thrust it and Hermione's two unopened letters back into the box in the cupboard. His breathing only evened out when the panel was closed and the whole thing was out of sight.

He climbed onto his bed, let Quidditch Through the Ages fall open, and threw all his determination into reading.

When he next looked up, hearing the lock click in the door, Sirius still hadn't moved.

Lupin came in, balancing a heavy platter loaded with food. He took one look at Sirius and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Harry shook his head.

"I brought lunch," Lupin said rather loudly, setting it down on the lid of the trunk at the foot of his bed. "I know you've eaten already, James...."

"I'll have some," Harry said, suddenly reminded by his stomach just how little interest he had taken in his food earlier at lunch. "I'm glad you thought of it."

He immediately felt guilty that he hadn't thought of it. If Snape hadn't let Lupin out, Lupin and Sirius might have gone hungry until dinner.

He had just taken a sandwich when Lupin sat down next to him. He felt Lupin's warm breath on his ear.

"He's agreed to leave it to us to convince Padfoot."

Harry nodded, but he didn't think that was much of a concession on Snape's part, since Snape had already made it clear it was up to Harry to accomplish this feat.

"Do you think you'd be all right if I left for a bit?"

"I guess so... Why?"

"I want to help Professor Snape get ready for the first week of classes."

Harry frowned at him. "But I thought you said you're rubbish at Potions."

"Not Potions," Lupin said, lowering his voice even more and glancing over his shoulder to check on Sirius. "Defense Against the Dark Arts. He's going to teach both since they couldn't find anyone on such short notice. Don't tell Padfoot."

"I won't. And... we'll be fine, if you want to go."

He wasn't really sure of it, though. Maybe Lupin sensed that, because he drew back and looked at Harry scrutinizingly.

"All right, but if anything comes up you don't think you can handle, get me immediately."

"I will," Harry said, not at all happy to know that Lupin expected Sirius to be that difficult.

Lupin wrapped a toasted bun in a napkin, picked up a glass of pumpkin juice, and headed out the door.

"Just us again," Harry told Sirius' unmoving form with a resigned sigh. "I don't suppose you'd fancy a friendly game of Gobstones?"

---

Lupin didn't come back for hours. By then, Harry was acutely worried about Sirius, who still hadn't moved.

Maybe it hadn't been such a grand idea to tell him I was almost sorted into Slytherin.

"Still refusing to have anything to do with us?" Lupin asked with a nod toward Sirius. He didn't bother to keep his voice down, or the tone of disapproval out of it.

And still Sirius kept his back to them.

Harry shrugged helplessly. At this point he would have welcomed a big row, just to have it out. Having Sirius ignore him was maddening.

"Padfoot?" Lupin said, walking over to Sirius and shaking him lightly by a blanket-covered shoulder. "James and I are going to dinner. Are you coming with us?"

There was no response, and when Lupin straightened his mouth was pursed in anger.

"Fine, but we're going without you. Come on, James."

Harry trailed after Lupin reluctantly. Had they not better stay and make sure Sirius didn't do anything rash?

That thought was quashed when Snape locked the door after them. Sirius wouldn't be going anywhere.

Harry still felt terrible, and the feeling stayed with him through dinner. He filled his pockets with extra bread and obscene amounts of the sugared fruit and nuts that were the night's popular dessert, even though Lupin was going to take a generous tray back to their room.

As it turned out, they only had a few minutes to note that Sirius was still determinately ignoring them, and leave the food on the bedside table, before Snape ushered them out again.

Harry found himself sorting an endless supply of potions ingredients. The cabinets had been virtually emptied by the ceaseless demand for healing potions. Snape must have ordered the full year's supply, because each classroom had a number of crates and brown paper-wrapped packages marked with the names of various Apothecaries both in Britain and abroad. Harry only noted that the name Slug & Jiggers was absent.

He hardly saw Snape or Lupin all evening. They were working in Snape's office, while he was slowly making a round of the classrooms.

Shoving yet another bucket of pickled slugs into a cabinet, Harry shut the door and leaned against it tiredly. He wouldn't say no to turning in early.

But there were more cabinets and more ingredients.

With a sigh, he got back to work.

---

"McKenna."

Harry looked up, realizing suddenly that he hadn't touched a Shrivelfig in a long time. He had fallen into an exhausted stupor with a basket of them in front of him.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're done for the day," Snape said, pulling the basket away and covering it with a cloth. "You may finish the rest tomorrow."

Harry nodded.

It took him a moment to notice that Snape was holding something out to him.

"Sir?"

"Freshly made," Snape said. "Sixteen doses."

Harry frowned at the bottle before recognizing the potion as Dreamless Sleep. "Thank you."

Snape looked down at him unpleasantly. "I would rather limit the number of nights I'm pulled out of bed by your hysterics."

Harry swallowed hard.

Snape said nothing more, but led the way back to his quarters.

Harry was much too tired to do anything but place the potion into a drawer, undress, and climb into bed.

Lupin had gone for a shower first, and Harry tried to keep awake until he got back, so he could ask if they shouldn't pull Sirius out of bed and make him talk whether he wanted to or not. But he was simply too tired, and in the end was barely aware of Lupin getting into the next bed.

His dreams were vague and rambling. He saw dozens of faces pass before the Weasleys came into focus.

He woke in a cold sweat.

"James?"

Harry tried to answer, but all that came out was an indistinct grunt.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Lupin said. He was whispering. Harry heard rather than saw him gathering up his clothes and shoes; Lupin hadn't lit a torch. "It's fairly early, but Professor Snape and I are going to get started. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," Harry mumbled, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

"Try to go back to sleep. You weren't having another nightmare?"

"No."

"All right, then. I'll be back in time to walk down to the Hall for breakfast with you... and Padfoot if he's good and done with his nonsense."

That brought Harry all the way awake. He remembered what he had been going to ask Lupin.

Lupin was already on his way out, though, and Harry held his tongue. Maybe sleeping on it would make Sirius more reasonable. He would wait and see.

He flopped over on his back, closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the calming exercises that sometimes helped after a wretched night.

His thoughts turned instead to the potion Snape had given him. For a disoriented moment he wasn't certain it had really happened, and had to feel for the drawer knob and feel around until his hand met the cool, smooth side of the bottle.

He wished he had taken a dose the night before, and glad that Sirius had slept through the night without a repeat of the previous night's unpleasantries.

As if on cue, Sirius moaned.

Harry swung his legs out of bed without thinking.

"Paddy?"

He heard nothing except the creak of bedsprings and a body moving restlessly.

He tried to orient himself in the dark; all he could see was the shape of Lupin's bed, which was between him and Sirius. He let his hand trail its edge and made his way around it, only suffering a stubbed toe in the process when he forgot about the trunk at the foot of the bed.

"Paddy?"

Damn it, he really needed a light, but he couldn't see well enough to make out the torch on the far wall.

Another moan made him move faster; he really needed to get to Sirius before the screaming started if he was to have any chance of keeping Snape out of it.

Finally close enough, he reached out a hand and groped for Sirius' shoulder. Finding it, he shook it hard.

"Wake up, Paddy, you're having another nightmare."

Sirius moaned and shuddered violently.

"Come on," Harry said desperately, shaking him harder. "Wake up!"

Sirius jerked away from him, and Harry's hand slipped.

He snatched it back with a gasp. Hot!

Not understanding, he reached out again, only to again feel like he had stretched his fingers toward fire.

He stumbled back, his hand slamming down on the bedside table as he struggled for balance, and suddenly a flash of brilliant white light illuminated the bed in front of him.

Frozen in horror, he was rooted to the floor even after his hand slipped from the wand and the light faded to black.

Lupin.

I need Lupin now.

He flung himself across the room, finding the door by some miracle; and by another miracle it was not locked.

Lupin had to be there; he had only left minutes ago; he had to still be there.

But the room was empty.

He saw the light under the bathroom door and his heart jumped into his throat.

"Moony! MOONY!"

His hands were in agony; he felt he had been pounding on the door for hours, and why didn't Lupin open the damn door?

"MOONY! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH PADDY! MOONY!"

The door was yanked away from his fists.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Harry stared up at Snape's impassive face and was overcome by nausea.

Snape. It was Snape.

Lupin wasn't there.

And Sirius....

A roar in his ears turned into a flood as the monstrosity of the situation became clear.

He didn't care that he was crying helplessly in front of Snape, bawling and choking on his own sobs.

It was unfair. Everything in his damn life was bloody unfair!

Snape elbowed him aside.

His strides were so long that even at a run Harry couldn't keep up.

The room was filled with light, dazzling Harry so that he stubbed his toe again on the same trunk. The pain barely registered.

Snape was standing over Sirius' bed, and when Harry tried to get close he pushed him away, so that the back of Harry's knees hit the edge of Lupin's bed and he sat down hard.

Snape had thrown back the blanket and now Harry could see Sirius' bare legs glistening with sweat. The sheets were damp.

Snape had his wand out, but all Harry could see were his voluminous robes; he couldn't see Sirius at all now.

There came a ripping sound and a velvet green button landed at Harry's bare feet.

"Damn."

Without any warning Snape turned and swept out of the room, and Harry's numbed brain registered that the bed was empty now.

He ran after Snape, only to have the door to Snape's bedroom slam shut long before he reached it.

His breath came in hiccoughs. It was the only sound in the room.

His legs gave up supporting him, and it was just lucky that there was a chair behind him.

Lupin found him exactly like that some time -- hours? minutes? -- later.

"James? What are you doing in your skivvies? You'll catch a..." Lupin's expression turned momentarily puzzled and then he paled and ran forward. "James? What's wrong?"

Harry's spine followed the example of his legs now that Lupin's grasp on his shoulders was holding him up, and he collapsed against the front of Lupin's robes.

Lupin pushed him upright again. "You're scaring me. What happened?"

"Pa-d-dy," Harry choked out. "S-something's wrong with Paddy."

He was looking up at Lupin when he said it; Lupin's face turned ashen and he swayed, his hold on Harry turning painful. His face twisted toward the closed door.

Harry almost fell over when Lupin let him go.

The door was well-warded, and Lupin's knock, which turned into pounding, made no sound.

With a frustrated swear, Lupin backed against the wall and hugged his arms around his chest. His eyes never left the door.

Neither did Harry's.

---

It was a long wait.

The breakfast bell chimed and fell silent.

At some point Lupin had slid to the floor.

Harry's nose was dripping badly from cold.

That was how McGonagall found them when she came to find out why they hadn't appeared at breakfast.

Her shrewd, piercing eyes took in the scene, including the locked door. Then she let herself past the wards with a wave of her wand, and shut the door again before their stiffened legs could carry them forward.

Lupin paced like a trapped animal.

"It's my fault," he muttered fervently. "It's my fault... I should have noticed. I just... just didn't think...." He raked his hands through his hair. "It was so like him... but I should have known he could never keep that up for so long... I should have seen...!"

"It's --"

Harry had been about to say, It's not your fault. when the door opened.

Lupin froze in his steps. Harry rose slowly to his feet, feeling weak.

McGonagall came out first, followed by Snape.

"You may see him," Snape said shortly.

They barely waited for the words to be out of his mouth.

Harry's throat closed up when he saw Sirius.

He was in Snape's immense bed, drowning in one of Snape's nightshirts. His face was as pale as the sheets.

Lupin collapsed into a chair and reached for Sirius' hand, leaving Harry to find a spot on the other side of the bed.

He moved Sirius' discarded robes -- one sleeve was torn to the elbow -- off a chair and sat heavily.

"Don't look at me like that," Sirius said. His voice was slightly hoarse.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked. He was staring at the stark white sling holding Sirius' hand against his chest.

Sirius considered this. "Let me see. Potion tasted like crap. I'm in the greasy git's bed. And I think we're fighting, but I'm not sure what about, which might be a point to the git since he thinks the fever fried my last usable brain cells."

Lupin didn't look amused at all, and Harry himself saw nothing funny.

"Oh, come on," Sirius said peevishly. "I'm on my death bed and I'm trying to cheer you up? You might make a little effort here."

"But what happened?" Lupin asked. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"My wrist," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "I fell when the git shoved me through the door. I didn't think it was that bad, at first. I thought I caught it on a splinter or something. That floor's filthy enough."

"But you didn't, did you," Lupin said faintly. "You broke it, and the bone must have gone through the skin to make you ill so quickly."

"Well it's healed now. The bloody git just wrapped it for McGonagall's benefit." Sirius smiled widely. "She wasn't very happy when she heard how it happened."

Harry glanced through the open doorway and he could see McGonagall pouring tea from a steaming pot, while Snape stood rigidly off to the side, his arms folded defensively over his chest.

"But he wrapped it tight enough to make my fingers numb," Sirius finished, now scowling. "Git."

Harry and Lupin wisely remained silent.

Sirius stared at the blanket contemplatively for a few moments. "What were we fighting about? All I remember is you -- James -- saying something about the Sorting Hat putting you in Slytherin, which is barmy, and Wormtail... something about Wormtail."

Harry exchanged a look with Lupin. He didn't think now was a good time to try again.

Sirius glared at them. "What is it with you? I want to know. It's not a hard question."

He might have said more, but at that moment McGonagall decided to interrupt.

"Milo, James, come here please."

Lupin let go of Sirius' hand reluctantly.

"Not to worry," Sirius said, "I'll be here." He scowled darkly. "All day, I'll wager."

"James. Milo."

Harry followed Lupin out of Snape's room.

"Go get dressed, James," McGonagall said, taking in his appearance.

Harry trudged off, aware that McGonagall was pouring Lupin a cup of hot tea. He really was terribly cold, and wouldn't have minded some hot tea himself.

What he got was a dose of Pepperup from Snape, instead.

"Honestly," McGonagall said with a disapproving shake of her head, "you're left alone for a few hours and two out of the three of you end up in need of a nurse."

Lupin glanced at Harry, then quickly away, a guilty expression crossing his face.

Harry happened to look at Snape, and was surprised to see a similar expression fleetingly pass over his scowling features.

"I need to get back to work," McGonagall said. "I assume the crisis is over?"

"Of course it is," Snape said, giving Harry a glare as if he thought the entire fiasco had been carried out by Harry to make him look bad in front of McGonagall. He walked her to the door and saw her out.

When he turned around his usual scowl was firmly in place.

Harry was quite certain Snape was in a worse mood now than he had been in days. Snape's hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes glinted dangerously.

It didn't seem like a great thing, then, when Snape headed resolutely for the bedroom.

Lupin must have thought the same thing, because he was out of his seat and on Snape's heals in seconds, giving Snape no chance to shut the door.

Snape made no move to do that. He stood just inside the doorway, glaring at the pathetic figure occupying his bed.

Harry privately thought that Sirius might be playing up his injury a bit. He was lying with his uninjured arm thrown over his brow, moaning piteously. He opened one eye and looked at Snape.

"W-w-water..." he croaked. "F-f-ood...."

Snape looked disgusted. "McKenna, bring him a glass of water."

Harry ran to obey, but not before noticing that Sirius had stopped moaning and was giving Snape a glare.

He's all right! turned into a chant in his head.

He poured a tall glass of cold water and fairly flew back to the bedroom, feeling so light he thought he had grown wings.

"Go down to the kitchens and see about breakfast," Snape said. "And don't dawdle or waste time."

As if they would, when Sirius eyes followed them all the way out, pleading not to be left alone with Snape.

"He's all right," Harry said tentatively as they hurried down the corridor. "Isn't he?"

"Of course he is," Lupin agreed. His hand found Harry's and squeezed reassuringly. "Of course. McGonagall would have called Pomfrey if there was any doubt."

"It must have been terrible, though. He doesn't even remember anything from last night."

"He was running up a fever, and probably too agitated from pain to pay any real attention to what we said." Lupin shook his head and winced. "I can't believe I was so stupid. I should have known. I let him suffer all night."

"We both did," Harry said, swallowing hard. "It's my fault too."

"Don't say that. None of this is your fault. You've been incredible through all of this."

Harry didn't feel incredible in the least. He felt... small, lost, and helpless to do anything to help himself or the people he cared about.

They helped themselves to the cold leftovers.

"I did some accidental magic, I think," Harry said, breaking the silence. "This morning."

"Oh?"

"My hand just touched the wand, and it was like I cast Lumos, only more powerful. But I hadn't cast it, or even thought of it."

"Was it dark?"

"Yes."

"I suppose your need for light translated into a nonverbal spell, and the wand just happened to be there."

"I guess."

"It's a good sign," Lupin said, glancing his way with a small frown. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"I just..." Harry paused, thinking. It was only now that the incident with the wand seemed to mean anything. "I feel so helpless without magic. If we were attacked, I'd be useless." He shook his head sheepishly. "More useless than usual, I mean."

"You were never useless," Lupin said. "And if not having magic makes you a little less likely to run into dangerous situations --"

Harry waited for the end of the condemning speech, but Lupin stopped short. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. That wasn't what I intended to say at all."

"It's okay," Harry said, his voice coming out just a bit strangled.

They walked back to Snape's quarters in silence.

Lupin went in with the tray, but Snape accosted Harry for the purpose of dosing him with Pepperup again, making him cough while tapping his wand up and down his back, and mopping his nose with a rag soaked in something bitter that made Harry's head reel.

"I'd think after all these years you would know not to run around the dungeons in your underpants."

Finally out of Snape's clutches, Harry was so relieved he couldn't even bring himself to get angry.

Snape moved off to check on a row of simmering cauldrons, and Harry headed for the bedroom.

"Just keep the Slytherin slimeball away from me, Moony."

Harry froze with his hand on the door.

"You wouldn't believe the things he's been telling me. Sorted into Slytherin! I could just -- oh, don't make that face at me. I can't believe you left me here with him. He's worse than Molly. Do you know my hand hurts worse now that he's fussed with it? And I think I might sick up. Those potions were vile."

Harry slowly let out the breath he'd been holding.

Whom did you think he meant?

He pushed open the door and crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Lupin.

Sirius speared a bit of egg and made a face at Harry. "Your ears are steaming, did you know?"

"I know."

Sirius chewed and swallowed, and let the fork clatter onto the plate. "What a waste of a Saturday. Hey, Moony, can you bring me my wand?"

"Your wand?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's on the night stand, I think."

"What do you want it for?"

"Just do."

"What's the use of a wand if you can't cast spells?"

Sirius gave him a filthy look. "I could stick it up his abnormally large nose, for one thing."

A throat clearing made them all jump. Even Sirius looked like he wished he hadn't said the last bit, though he pulled on a defiant expression.

"So this morning is not a complete loss, we will see if you can select your wands," Snape said in a restrained tone. "The fewer of you I have to drag to London, the less the risk, and a wand is the only reason to take you to Diagon Alley at all."

Harry saw that Snape had a long, flat wooden box in his hands. He set it down on a table and opened it.

There were two dozen or more wands or every sort displayed on black velvet. Wands with intricate carvings. Wands with jewel-encrusted handles. Wands with crystals embedded in the tips. Wands that were nothing more than gnarled wood. Even wands no different from those Harry was used to seeing.

"Is this some sort of collection?" Lupin asked, leaning in for a closer look.

"You could say that." His long fingers trailed over a dazzlingly white wand in what was almost an obscene caress. "Some of these are very old, or have unusual cores. Still, there might be a suitable fit." He selected a thick, highly polished wand. "Try this one. Oak, ten inches..."

Lupin reached for the wand.

There was a terrible BANG! and Snape's bed shuddered and careened to the side, almost spilling Sirius out.

"... Werewolf fang," Snape finished dryly, extracting the wand from Lupin's shocked death-grip and using his own wand to restore the shattered leg of the bed. "Apparently not a good fit."

"Could you aim away from me, next time?" Sirius said peevishly, rubbing his arm.

Snape tried to hand Lupin another wand, but Lupin sank, white-faced, onto the edge of the bed, and refused to take it.

"I'll try it," Sirius said. "Give it to me."

The wand did not work for him, which convinced Lupin to give it a go. Finally it was Harry's turn.

He wondered for a moment, as the lifeless wand lay in the palm of his hand, if any wand could feel as right as his old one. This one certainly did not.

They tried a few others, until a deeply carved ebony wand hummed with life in Sirius' hand.

Snape looked at the wand as if reluctant to let it go. It had occupied a prominent place in the center of the display.

"What's the core in this one?" Sirius asked, spitting on the handle and polishing it on the corner of his blanket.

"Minotaur hair," Snape said through clenched teeth. Apparently Sirius' treatment of the wand did not agree with him.

Sirius stuck the wand under his pillow and unceremoniously returned to his breakfast.

Unfortunately, none of the wands were right for Harry or Lupin. Snape shut the box.

"I had hoped there would be a suitable one for you," he told Harry. "It wasn't so long ago that Ollivander sold you your first wand."

"He remembers every wand he ever sold," Harry said, frowning. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Snape scowled at him. "Not if you keep your mouth shut and your wits about you."

Harry swallowed and nodded.

He supposed that Snape had to be glad that Sirius, at least, wouldn't need to come with them.

"Couldn't one of us use your spare?" Lupin asked. "It worked reasonably well for us all, and responds especially well to James."

Snape shook his head. "Too much recent activity on that one."

"Oh."

"I had planned on taking you to London this afternoon. However...."

Sirius glared hatefully at him. "Don't look at me like it's any of my fault."

Snape's eyes flashed with anger, but he pressed his lips together and seemed to hold in whatever retort should have followed.

"Will we be able to go tomorrow?" Lupin asked.

"I suppose we will have to. You can't very well start classes without a wand."

"I'm sorry. I know it will take you away from planning. I can help --"

"No," Snape said, cutting him off. "I don't require any more of your help. Stay here and make sure nothing else happens."

He picked up the box and swept out of the room.

"Nothing else happens," Sirius muttered darkly. "He's the one --"

"Oh, please be quiet, Padfoot," Lupin said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm too tired to argue with you, too."

Sirius looked him over with a frown. "I forgot. The moon's full on Monday."

Lupin sighed and sank into a chair. "Terrible timing." And he looked pointedly at Harry.

"But you'll still be there for the sorting, right?" Harry asked with a sinking feeling. If Lupin wasn't there, Sirius would be ten times more likely to pull some stunt. Besides, Harry didn't think he could face the sorting alone.

"I... I will be," Lupin said uncertainly. "I might have to leave the feast early, but I'll be there for the sorting."

Harry noticed Sirius' eyes narrowing. He wished he knew what Sirius was thinking. He would have asked, but Lupin was holding his temples again, a pained look on his face.

"Can't you ask Professor Snape for a headache potion, or something?"

"I've already taken two."

"Oh."

"You should try to sleep," Sirius said. "It helps sometimes, doesn't it?"

Lupin nodded.

"If you want some Dreamless Sleep, help yourself."

Harry followed Sirius' gesture and saw that there was a bottle on the nightstand, identical to the one Snape had given him the previous night.

"Mind you, I can't promise he isn't trying to poison me."

Lupin smiled weakly. "I don't suffer from nightmares, fortunately."

"Too bad," Sirius said with an exaggerated sigh. "Here I was hoping you'd test the stuff for me."

"I'm sure the potion works as intended."

"Especially if it is poison."

Lupin shut his eyes and shuddered.

"That's it," Sirius said. "To bed."

"All right, but James, call me if anything happens."

"Nothing's going to happen," Harry said firmly.

Lupin stood up a little shakily and left the room.

Sirius swore under his breath. "That git better be making his potion, that's all I have to say."

Harry picked at a loose thread on the blanket.

"Now, let's talk about this Sorting business."

He had known it was coming.

"The way I see it, if they couldn't bamboozle the Hat into putting us where they want us, then they'll have a hard time accusing us of not doing our part if we land in Gryffindor anyway."

"But --"

"And --" Sirius continued loudly, "-- the way I see it, once we're in Gryffindor there isn't a damn thing they can do about it."

"But if --"

"AND I don't see how any of us could possibly get into the Snake House even if we tried our damnedest!

Harry wished he had followed Lupin out. He was starting to get a headache himself.

Sirius was sitting in the middle of the bed, scowling as he watched them get dressed.

"We won't be gone long," Lupin said, avoiding meeting Sirius' eyes. "I don't think Professor Snape wants to be away from the school for too long, or for us to be seen by too many people."

Sirius said nothing.

"McGonagall will bring your lunch." Lupin gestured toward the tray perched on top of the trunk at the foot of Sirius' bed. "I think you're set for now."

Sirius had not joined them for breakfast, refusing to get up or dress. It had been a very uncomfortable morning.

Lupin sighed. "Come, James, we should go."

Harry tried to give Sirius a parting smile, despite Sirius' ugly scowl. "We'll be back soon, Paddy," he said. "I'm sorry you're not going with us."

Sirius snorted angrily in reply, folded his arms, and threw himself backwards onto the pillows, fixing his glare on the ceiling and leaving no doubt that he intended to continue his silent treatment indefinitely.

Lupin caught Harry's hand and pulled him toward the door. "Good-bye, Padfoot."

As soon as they were out, the door slammed shut with considerably more force than was strictly necessary. It had been spelled to lock behind them.

Lupin drew a long, frustrated breath. "I do wish..." He trailed off, not finishing. "Never mind. Let's hurry, James. I don't want to keep him waiting."

They walked quickly through the empty, dark corridors, up the staircase, through a side door to the courtyard, and finally out onto the road. Harry hugged his robes tighter around himself, wishing he'd worn a jumper underneath. It was a chilly morning, with fog rolling across Hogwarts' lawns.

A carriage was waiting up ahead, a pair of thestrals pawing the dirt restlessly.

"We're not taking that all the way to London...?"

"Of course not," Lupin said. "With so many restrictions on travel, we'll have to go a bit out of our way. Hogsmeade is just too closely monitored."

"Oh," Harry said. They had reached the carriage and he looked in cautiously. Snape was not inside. "Should we get in?"

"I suppose." Lupin looked around, frowning. "We're not early. I wonder if something's kept him."

They climbed in and settled on the seats, Harry facing forward and Lupin opposite him.

"We will just have to wait. Too bad I didn't think to bring a book."

Harry nodded and looked out the window at the school. The morning fog was starting to clear, but he still had to squint to make out the details.

"Do you think Paddy will be all right?"

"I'm sure he will," Lupin answered, just a little too hastily. "Just terribly bored, I expect."

"I wish he could have come."

"I'm glad he didn't need to," Lupin said, shaking his head. "Professor Snape was right, it's too risky."

"Then," Harry said with a dejected sigh, "I wish he would see this isn't the worst thing that's ever happened. We're together and we're safe. Professor Snape hasn't been that bad... and he is helping us."

"Right," Lupin said, looking at Harry with a bit of surprise. "That's a sensible attitude, James, especially after yesterday."

"Sensible," Harry repeated, thinking back to his promises to Snape. Maybe he wasn't managing to keep them, always, but oddly enough he was still determined to try. "Yes, that's me."

Without warning the carriage door was yanked open and Snape got inside, settling next to Harry, who quickly wondered if there was any polite way of moving across to the other seat.

"Is everything all right?" Lupin asked cautiously. It was clear Snape was not in a particularly good mood.

"Fine. Just some last minute delays."

Snape waved his hand and the carriage started off at once. Harry wondered idly how that worked.

None of them spoke. Snape had taken out a potions periodical and began to read. Lupin settled against the corner of the carriage, looking pensively out the window. Harry, not knowing what to do with himself, picked at a loose thread on the hem of his robes, hoping their trip would not be too long.

Hills and the occasional dwelling flew past the window, but the carriage showed no sign of stopping or turning off the main road... if it could still be called a road, since it grew more and more wild as they went, the packed dirt giving way to weeds and becoming narrower and narrower until it was no more than a path through the fields.

Quite abruptly, they did stop, throwing Harry forward and into the opposite seat.

"Stay here," Snape commanded. His wand was already in his hand as he opened the carriage door and got out.

After a few tense, silent moments, Lupin peered cautiously out the window. "I think we're here... yes, I see the house. I think he's just checking to make sure it's safe."

"Right," Harry said, his voice sticking a bit in his throat. He had been reminded sharply of just how dangerous their trip to Diagon Alley could turn out to be.

"Come on, he wants us," Lupin said, reaching for the door handle. "Follow me."

They scrambled out of the carriage, somehow feeling the need to run until they reached the place where Snape was waiting. Harry, at first, did not see the house Lupin had claimed to be able to see from the carriage window, until he saw a door and a window set right into the hillside.

"It's empty," Snape said, pushing the door open. "We're only passing through."

There was only one room inside. Harry was reminded of Hagrid's hut, though this house was considerably better kept.

Without preamble, Snape took a pot of Floo powder from the mantle and pushed it toward Lupin, who took a handful, and then toward Harry.

"Follow a minute behind me," Snape said, taking a handful of powder himself and turning toward the fireplace. Without another word to them, he stepped inside, having to stoop slightly, and vanished behind a column of green fire and smoke. "Diagon Alley!"

Harry looked at Lupin, who was chewing his lip. "Think it'll be all right?"

"Yes," Lupin said, his eyes widening to betray his own nervousness. "As long as you don't land in Knockturn Alley by mistake."

Harry giggled stupidly.

"All right, it's been a minute, at least," Lupin said, stepping toward the fireplace. "Follow right after me. No..." He looked back at Harry with a frown. "Maybe you had better go first...."

"I will, then," Harry said, suddenly wishing it all to be over already. He climbed in, took a deep breath and held it so he wouldn't breathe in the soot and smoke, and tossed the Floo powder at his feet. "Diagon Alley!"

He hated flooing. Some hundred twists and turns later he had landed on a hard floor at Snape's feet.

"Disgraceful," Snape muttered, hauling him up by the arm.

Lupin arrived a moment later.

"We will stop at the Apothecary," Snape said, not waiting for either of them to get their bearings before heading at a brisk pace toward the exit. "I have an order waiting."

They had to almost run to keep up. Though Harry's heart began to race as the wall opened to reveal Diagon Alley, he had no time to stop to take in the familiar sight. He only got a brief impression of a nearly-deserted street before Snape was ushering them into the narrow space between two shops, where scraps of parchment and broken glass littered the cobblestones and crunched underfoot.

"I wonder if we'll be getting our supplies here," Lupin whispered as they tried to keep up. "But... we can't, can we?"

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Lupin looked like he was wishing he hadn't said anything. "Closed by the Ministry."

"Closed...?" Harry repeated. He had been there with Lupin only a short while earlier. He tried to push down the suspicion that it could have been their actions that led the Ministry to target the shop.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Lupin said.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, probably."

Lupin still looked uncomfortable, and Harry hastened to change the subject.

"We never got our letters."

"What?"

"Our Hogwarts letters. We were supposed to get them Friday, McGonagall said, but we never did."

"I have them," Lupin said, looking apologetic as he reached into his pocket and brought out three slightly rumpled envelopes. "It didn't seem important."

"Oh," Harry said, accepting the envelope -- addressed to James McKenna, of course -- that Lupin handed to him. "I guess not."

They were interrupted at that moment by Snape, who had stopped abruptly. "Wait here."

Harry watched curiously as Snape tapped his wand smartly against a wall, where a moment later a window appeared. Snape leaned it, his head and shoulders out of sight.

Harry ran a fingertip over the envelope. He wanted to open it, though he knew there would be only a standard Hogwarts letter inside.

"I suppose they're filling orders here," Lupin said. "Odd place, though." He looked down at the two envelopes he still held. "I didn't give Pad--er... Patrick, his letter. I thought it would just make him angry again."

"Good thinking," Harry agreed. He was still staring a little dumbly at his letter, reminded of the day he had got his real one and his life changed forever.

"Thank you," Lupin said, pulling Harry abruptly out of his reminiscence.

With a large parcel under his arm, Snape walked past them, dropping a smaller parcel in each of their hands as he went. "Your supplies. You will not be needing cauldrons, as I have cupboards full of old ones you can choose from. Come along."

They had no choice but to hurry after him.

They passed the cauldron shop without stopping. Harry averted his eyes as they went past Eeylops Owl Emporium, though that meant he was forced to look at the display of Quidditch brooms in the shop across from it. It seemed like everything held memories, both good and bad, and in the end he just looked down at his feet.

Snape seemed determined to get to Ollivander's. He did not pause at Flourish & Blott's, nor at Madam Malkin's or Gringotts. Certainly Harry didn't expect to stop for an ice-cream at Fortescue's.

Finally, Ollivander's shop was just ahead. Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster. What if Ollivander somehow knew it was him? Hadn't Snape suggested it might happen? Or, what if no wand chose him? What if his old wand, now broken and gone forever, was the only wand that was really right for him, and there would never be another?

He turned to look at Lupin. Lupin was biting his lip nervously, though he caught himself and smiled at Harry when he saw him looking. It didn't make Harry feel any better.

Their steps were dragging, and Snape got quite ahead of them before noticing that they were no longer following on his heels. He stopped and waited, scowling, until they forced their feet to move faster.

"What if...?" Harry started as he reached Snape, unable to stop the dreaded thoughts from escaping.

"Just smile and nod and don't talk," Snape said shortly, turning away and starting off again. "Don't touch anything and don't talk."

Harry tried to swallow, but there was a terrible nervous lump in his throat. The tension in Snape's voice had not helped at all, and he wished he hadn't asked. What had he expected Snape to say, anyway? Had he actually expected some reassuring words?

There was no more time to worry; as soon as Snape ushered them inside the shop, Ollivander was upon them.

"How do you do, Professor," he said with a slight bow. His pale eyes glittered with something Harry could not identify. "What can I do for you today?"

"Two wands, if you please," Snape said briskly. "These are first year students. It will not take long, I presume? This is not a task I normally take on, and I am behind schedule."

"Not long... not long," Ollivander said, his eyes flickering over first Harry and then Lupin. To Harry's relief, they lingered on Lupin longer than on him. "Step over here, if you will."

Harry had almost forgotten this part of wand selection. The tape measure measured him from elbow to wrist, shoulder to finger, and seemingly every which other way. Lupin received the same treatment, standing very still and still biting his lower lip, which now looked decidedly ragged.

"This way."

Ollivander led them over to a shelf. Harry looked at all the boxes stacked one on top of another, each containing a wand. Would there be a wand for him?

"The wand chooses the owner, you see." Ollivander took down a pair of boxes, setting one down while opening the other. "Willow, ten and a half inches," he said, holding the wand out to Lupin.

Evidently the wand did not see in Lupin a potential owner; it lay lifelessly in his hand. Ollivander quickly replaced it with another.

"Oak, nine and a half inches."

That wand, though it sparked, was not correct either.

"Try this one," Ollivander said, and almost before he had handed it to Lupin, a tremor went through the wand. "Hmm. Willow, ten and a quarter inches. Dragon heartstring."

As soon as Lupin touched the wand, indeed before he had a good grasp on it, a blinding bolt of light and sparks shot out of the end.

"You have your wand," Ollivander said, with another small bow. "Use it well."

It was Harry's turn. He tried to casually wipe his sweaty palm on his robes, but it was really no use. A trickle of sweat was making its way down his spine, making his whole back itch horribly.

Ollivander had taken down several more boxes. "Holly and unicorn hair. Nine inches. Springy."

Harry took it. He knew as soon as he had it in his hand that it was not right, but gave it a wave.

"No --" Ollivander snatched the wand back, quickly replacing it with another. "Maple and dragon heartstring. A bit more rigid than usual."

That wand was just as quickly replaced by another.

Harry noticed, as this wand, too, lay dead in his hand, that Snape was looking at him with a rather wary expression. He swallowed and forced his eyes away. He didn't need Snape making him even more nervous than he was.

"Beechwood and phoenix feather," Ollivander said, plucking another wand out of a box. "Ten and a half inches. Flexible."

Harry took the wand and looked down at it, willing it to do something. It felt no different than the others. Without much hope, he gave it the required swish.

Without warning, the wand came alive in his hand, warmth traveling like electricity down to his fingertips and up his wrist. Sparks flew up to the ceiling -- Harry nearly dropped the wand in shock -- and fell all around him like fiery confeti.

"Your wand," Ollivander said grandly. "Let it serve you well."

"Thank you," Snape put in sharply. "Would you mind drawing up separate receipts for each wand? It will make record keeping easier."

Ollivander went back behind the counter. Harry, clutching the box containing his new wand tightly to his chest, joined Lupin near the door until, a few minutes later, Snape herded them outside.

"Well," Harry said with a sigh of relief. "That was nowhere near as long as last time. He didn't even ask for our names!"

Snape coughed contemptuously.

Though he came out of the shop carrying one more box than he'd had before, Harry felt decidedly lighter. The most important and most dangerous part of their excursion seemed to be over, and none of the things they had worried about had happened.

"Are we going to do the rest of our shopping?" Lupin asked. He, too, looked quite different now, a bit of color back in his face. "Or have you taken care of it, Professor?"

"We might as well," Snape said. Maybe Harry was imagining it, but even Snape sounded less sour than before. "You will need clothing, and clothing fits better when it's tailored to suit you. A few personal items will be useful as well. It would be odd for first year students to arrive at school with nothing, even under your unfortunate circumstances."

They stopped in front of Madam Malkin's.

"What about Pad--er, Patrick?" Lupin asked, lowering his voice. "He's taller than either of us."

"He will make do with what he's given," Snape said, pushing open the door and waving them inside.

The shop, like the others, was deserted. Madam Malkin left the counter immediately to see what they needed, a quill and long roll of parchment floating at her shoulder.

"Two sets of robes will suffice," Snape said, before she could begin with any pleasantries. "Four plain white shirts, two plain black trousers, two nightshirts, and two sets of underneath."

Harry started to open his mouth in protest at the mention of nightshirts, but Lupin elbowed him in the ribs.

"On second thought," Snape said, raising an eyebrow, "best make it six shirts and four sets of underneath, as I'm not certain how often laundry will be done this year."

Madam Malkin clucked in agreement, happily making the changes on her parchment.

"We will take an extra set of robes and trousers, as well, with room to grow. I will not have time to bring them back once the school year begins, as I rarely leave Hogwarts."

Snape waited while the quill flew over the parchment.

"Will there be anything else?" Madam Malkin asked, looking hopeful.

"The same, for a student I was not able to bring with me. He is half a head taller than this one." Snape pushed Lupin forward, then waved his hand dismissively. "That will be all."

"Shoes?" Madam Malkin protested. "Coats and gloves for the winter? We carry a lovely selection...."

"Very well," Snape said. "Shoes and winter cloaks. Gloves and the like they can pick out from the lost items box."

Harry noticed that Lupin's ears went quite red at that, and wondered if Lupin was already intimately familiar with the contents of the box in question.

"I will be purchasing your books while you are being fitted," Snape told them. "You are not to leave this shop."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and walked out of the shop, leaving them at Madam Malkin's mercy.

---

An hour or so later -- it felt a lot longer to Harry, who thought he had tried on a hundred articles of clothing and been measured ten dozen times -- they were back in the street, loaded down with parcels and boxes of various sizes.

"I will give you three galleons each," Snape said, taking the coins out with a look that suggested he loathed to part with the money. "There's a second-hand shop across the way, where you can purchase some small items. Remember that anything you would have taken with you when you were rescued had to be small."

"You are not coming with us?" Lupin asked curiously -- a little too curiously, it seemed to Harry -- as he took the coins from Snape.

"I have business elsewhere. I will meet you shortly."

Snape waited until they had entered the shop before walking away. Harry had the suspicion that Snape was heading in the direction of Knockturn Alley, but he kept that observation to himself.

"This gives me an idea, James," Lupin said, almost whispering. "You know where we can get those kinds of things, right?"

"Huh?" Harry said, not understanding at first. Then he remembered the little room behind the secret panel, and all the things Sirius and Lupin showed to him. "Oh. Yes, I know."

"But we do need more clothes. You don't want to be walking around in those all the time, do you?"

Harry thought of the prim white collared shirts they had just been fitted for, and the school robes. "No."

"He won't take us into Muggle London, of course."

Harry snorted. He couldn't imagine Snape doing that.

"I think we can find some things here."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

"Of course he will -- if he finds out," Lupin said, not sounding too concerned about this unpleasant possibility. "I doubt he will check."

Harry followed Lupin to the back of the shop. There, indeed, they found several racks with clothing of various sorts. Without much difficulty, Harry found a pair of jeans that fit, and a grey jumper that was only slightly too large.

"Too bad there's nothing for Paddy."

"Oh," Lupin said dismissively, "he won't mind wearing his school things. He always did."

Harry hesitated. "Milo... I'm from a pureblood family, too."

Lupin was silent for a few moments, rubbing the sleeve of a ratty fur coat. "Well... we'll ask before you wear any of this, I suppose."

"Right," Harry said, but his good mood was slightly spoiled. Now that he had a reason to think about it, the idea of having to pretend to be a haughty pureblood --what had Snape said about the McKennas? Older than the Black family, and all Slytherin! -- weighed rather heavily on him. He was too aware of how much he still didn't know about the wizarding world.

"Come on, we should pay and have these wrapped before Professor Snape comes for us."

Even after paying for the clothes they still had a galleon between them, and spent the next few minutes lost in extra large ice-creams at Fortescue's next door. Snape had not, after all, instructed them to wait inside the shop.

"Do you think we got everything from the supply lists?" Harry asked, taking out his letter and opening it at last. "Let's see, potions supplies, robes, books..." He read the list again. "Hats and dragonhide gloves. Do you think we need those?"

Lupin grimaced around a spoonful of ice-cream. "We'll get gloves from the lost items box, I'm sure. And when do students ever wear those dumb hats?"

"Good point."

Harry averted his eyes from the notice about acceptable familiars ('an owl OR a cat OR a toad', it said). It was still too painful to think about Hedwig, and he was glad there was little chance of Snape taking them to either the Magical Managerie or Eeylops.

They ate their ice-creams in silence for a while. Harry looked up to see that Lupin was stirring his absentmindedly.

"Are you all right?"

Lupin rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Just a bit tired."

"You look --"

"Did you find what you wanted?"

Harry jumped, startled. Snape had appeared with no warning next to him, as Snape had a habit of doing.

"Yes," Lupin said, looking guiltily up at Snape.

"Then we should start back."

They scrambled to collect their purchases, as Snape didn't seem to intend to wait for them and had started off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"I had expected yelling, honestly," Lupin muttered under his breath.

Harry grinned. "Always safe to expect that."

---

The trip back to Hogwarts seemed very short by comparison. It seemed like before he even got settled among all the parcels and boxes, the carriage pulled up at the school's gates and it was time to climb out again.

"I can take some of that for you," Harry said to Lupin, though he was already carrying all his own things as well as everything meant for Sirius. Though Harry hadn't noticed anything wrong while they were in Diagon Alley, Lupin looked more than just a bit worn out.

"No, thank you."

Harry turned to take the last box from the carriage and saw Snape looking their way with narrowed eyes.

"Come to my office after you have put your purchases away," Snape said. It took Harry a moment to realize he was speaking to Lupin. "You look unwell."

"It's nothing," Lupin said, but his protest was as weak as he looked.

"Nevertheless, I will be expecting you," Snape said, and with that he turned and began walking toward the school.

Lupin sighed.

"I don't suppose Pomfrey knows?" Harry said with sudden realization. It hadn't occurred to him until then.

"How can she?" Lupin said, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. "Anyway, with the Wolfsbane potion it won't be like last time. I'll be fine."

"Well, all right," Harry said uncertainly. Lupin sounded like he thought he would be anything but fine. "As long as Snape makes your potion."

"Of course he will," Lupin said in the same glum tone. "And make sure I drink it to the last drop, too."

Harry, his arms occupied, kicked the carriage door closed. He frowned, not sure he understood. "Oh."

"He will never forgive me for that one time, you see. I thought we had a chance to start over and put old hostilities aside, until then. But he never lets me forget, now."

"Or," Harry suggested, not knowing why he was leaping to Snape's defense, "maybe he can just see how ill you look. You do, you know."

Lupin said nothing, but looked at him with a slightly deprecating smile.

Harry realized with annoyance that Lupin thought he was naive. "We should go."

"You're right," Lupin said. "Lead the way."

They walked in silence up to the castle, down to the dungeons, and, when the door openned for them as they approached, inside Snape's quarters.

Harry stopped in front of the door to their room. He wasn't sure what kind of a reception awaited them, considering Sirius had been locked up since early morning.

"Might as well," Lupin said. "No sense putting it off."

Lupin put his hand against the door --for the second time that day, Harry felt a pang of annoyance that Snape was apparently telling Lupin things that Lupin didn't see fit to share with him -- and the door opened at his touch.

They went inside the dark room. Harry blinked, trying to help his eyes adjust to the lack of light, wondering why the torches weren't lit.

"Padfoot," Lupin said, his tone very cautious. He set down his things and lit a torch, flooding the room with yellow, flickering light. "Everything all right?"

Harry saw that Sirius was sitting exactly as they had left him, in the center of his bed. The only difference in the room as far as he could tell was that the breakfast tray was gone and a little round folding table had appeared, with a lunch tray on top of it.

"Done with your little shopping spree?"

"Yes," Lupin said. "Done sulking?"

Sirius made a face. Then he jumped off the bed and stretched noisily. "I was utterly bored, I'll have you know."

Harry slowly let out a relieved breath.

"You just missed lunch," Sirius went on. "I haven't had mine, so I think we should go down to the kitchens and find something better than what McGonagall brought over." He pointed with disgust at the lunch tray. "That woman hates me."

"I doubt that," Lupin said with a thin smile. "I have to see Professor Snape about my headache first, but I think you have a good plan."

Sirius' eyes glinted. "I have an even better plan," he said, dropping his voice. "Shut the door and I'll tell you."

Lupin gave Harry a meaningful glance, but closed the door as Sirius asked.

"All right, see here," Sirius said, still keeping his voice low. "I've been thinking about this. James will be sorted first, right?"

Harry's heart sank. Sirius had spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon thinking of ways to get into Gryffindor?

"Then you, Moony, and then me. Your names start with 'M' and mine's not far off, so we will be right by each other in line. If James gets sorted into Gryffindor -- and you will, of course, James -- Snape can't possibly hate him any more than he does now, and McGonagall will be secretly glad. Then --" Sirius had been progressively speeding up and getting louder, because Lupin looked like he wanted to interrupt. "THEN, the two of us will get sorted, and when Snape demands to know why we didn't try to get into Slytherin, we'll tell him we didn't think it was a good idea to let James go to Gryffindor by himself, knowing how much trouble he gets into! IT'S BRILLIANT!"

Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. It was just about the least brilliant plan he had ever heard. Having spent hours thinking, Sirius could at least have come up with something that couldn't be restated as 'We'll just blame Harry.'

"I..." Lupin stopped and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I need that headache potion."

The grin slipped off Sirius' face. "Fine, let's get your potion. James and I will go on ahead to the kitchen."

With that, Sirius stomped over to the door and tried to throw it open, only to find it was still locked to him.

"You first," he said, stepping aside with a scowl.

It opened easily enough for Lupin, and the three of them started down the corridor.

Just as Harry had suspected he would, the moment they were alone Sirius started trying to convince him that the plan was sound. Nothing Harry said made a bit of difference.

"It's almost like you want to be in Slytherin," Sirius said accusingly, biting a large chunk out of piece of buttered bread. "It's like you're on Snape's side."

"I am not," Harry said, but found he was unable to put much conviction behind the words. "I just want us to be safe, and I just think we'll be safer somewhere other than Gryffindor. That's all."

"That's all," Sirius mocked. "Right. I don't know what's happened to you, James, but you're not acting like yourself at all."

"Maybe I'm --" Harry stopped, catching himself as he remembered that his name was not Sirius' fault. He dropped his voice to a near whisper. "I'm not my father, Paddy. I never was. I'm not into doing dangerous things for fun, like he was. Dangerous things just sort of happened to me."

Sirius stared at him for a long time without speaking. Finally, he looked away, picking up his glass of milk and taking a sip. "My mistake. You must have always been the sort to hide out in Slytherin because it's safer, and I just never noticed."

Harry tried not to let Sirius' words hurt him, but it was impossible. "That's not fair."

Sirius shook his head and turned away, fixing his eyes on the far wall.

Harry sighed and picked at his food, feeling like he'd just made everything worse.

---

"I can't sleep," Harry said, flopping over on his side.

The shapeless lump in the next bed gave a grunt and sat up.

"Sorry," Harry said preemptively.

"Did you take your potion?"

"No, but --"

"Take it, then. Padfoot was out like a light. Go on."

Harry reached for the nighstand drawer, knocking over something that clattered noisily to the floor and rolled away. Lupin sighed with annoyance and after some shuffling and failed attempts, lit the tip of his wand.

"Thanks."

The small bottle was cool in his hand. He measured out the dose and swallowed it. Just like always, a sense of relief washed over him. No nightmares that night.

The light flickered and went out.

"Sorry. Lumos!... Lumos!..." Lupin huffed irritably. "No good. I'm too tired."

"That's all right," Harry said, screwing the top back on the bottle tightly. "I've got it."

"Don't drop it. We'd never hear the end of it."

"I won't," Harry said, carefully feeling for the open drawer with his free hand and setting the bottle inside. Like he'd ever tell Snape if that did happen. He pushed the drawer shut. "There, it's back in."

"Good night," Lupin said pointedly.

"Aren't you worried at all?"

"Of course I am."

"What if we can't do it? What if Paddy won't --"

"Stop. We can't do anything about it now. Tomorrow is going to come if you get any sleep or not. At least you will get to go to bed after the Sorting no matter how it goes. I won't."

Harry slid down under the warm covers guiltily. "Sorry. Good night."

Shutting his eyes, he tried to forget what the next day would entail, and how easily it could all go wrong.

In spite of the Dreamless Sleep, Harry woke up with an aching head and the vague feeling of having slept restlessly.

He would have tried to close his eyes against the pounding in his temples, but the other two beds were empty. He felt around for his glasses before remembering he no longer had any, then sat up and squinted at the clock.

Past breakfast. He wondered how he had slept through the bell, or why no one had brothered to wake him.

With a groan, Harry rolled out of bed and looked around for his clothing.

"You all right, mate?"

Harry looked up blearily. Sirius was in the doorway, frowning at him.

"Head hurts," he admitted.

Sirius made a face. "You too? Between you and Moony, the greasy git's going to run out of headache potions."

Harry wasn't in the mood to appreciate the joke. "Where is everyone? Why didn't you wake me?"

"Moony wouldn't let me. Said you didn't get to sleep until late." Sirius tilted his head to one side, looking him over. "You don't look too well."

"I'm all right."

As if on cue, his head gave a stronger throb, making him wince and put a hand to his temple.

"Right," Sirius said, drawing the word out. He leaned against the doorway and folded his arms over his chest casually. "Get a potion from the greasy git. He's good for that, anyway."

Harry had finally found his shoes, so he had an excuse to look down. "I will when I see him."

"Moony's bringing you breakfast."

"That's nice of him."

"Hmm." Sirius pushed away from the doorway and walked seemingly aimlessly into the room. "Say, where're you keeping all your stuff?"

"What stuff?" Harry asked, instantly suspicious. Now that he was forced to focus, he noticed that Sirius' pockets were bulging oddly.

"Oh, you know..." Sirius said, still in the same falsely casual tone. "All that stuff Moony said you'd better hide."

Harry contemplated not telling him, but this was Sirius. Anyway, he would find out sooner or later. They were sharing a room.

"In there," he said, pointing in the direction of the hidden panel. "The panel opens and there's a sort of cupboard or wardrobe or... I don't know."

"You mind if I stow some things?"

"Go ahead," Harry said, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice. What things could Sirius have got his hands on that needed to be kept hidden?

To his annoyance, there was no way to see. Sirius had emptied his pockets and shut the panel quickly before Harry could move closer.

"Come on," Sirius said cheerfully. "Let's not wait around for Moony. Are you dressed yet?"

Harry looked down at the rumpled shirt he had pulled on without looking at it properly. His head was still throbbing.

Sirius frowned. "We'll find the greasy git first. I saw him go into one of the classrooms."

"Maybe we should wait," Harry said half-heartedly. "What if he comes back and can't find us?"

"You worry too much. Anyway, knowing him he'll go running to the slimeball if he can't find us, and there we'll be."

Harry's nodded reluctantly. Sometimes it was easier just to agree.

Unfortunately, Snape was neither in the classroom Sirius claimed to have seen him enter earlier, nor in his office.

"Hrmp," Sirius said, looking at Harry with some concern. "I don't know...."

Harry leaned against the wall and tried to take deep breaths. The walk hadn't done him much good.

"If it's that bad, let's go to Pomfrey." Then Sirius snapped his fingers. "That's it! That's probably where he is. You remember how he went on about us taking him away from his work."

"Huh?" Harry asked dully. Trying to follow Sirius' leaps of thought while nursing a headache was too much. He felt renewed sympathy for Lupin. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night he -- oh, forget it." Sirius grabbed Harry by the arm and started pulling him toward the stairs. "Even if he's not there, Pomfrey will give you something."

By the time Harry was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, drinking a nasty concoction Pomfrey had given him, he was slightly more appreciative of Sirius' efforts. The headache was already gone, and he hadn't needed to ask Snape for a potion, which in his mind was a very good thing.

"Let's find Milo. He must be wondering where we went."

But they didn't get very far.

No sooner had they left the hospital wing, Lupin skidded to a halt next to them. "We have to go! Run!"

"What -- ?" Harry started to ask, but as he turned to look at Lupin, the question froze on his lips.

Without another word, they were off running, Harry and Sirius following Lupin's lead.

He almost tripped on the staircase, where the trick step vanished underneath his foot, but Lupin and Sirius caught him and dragged him up the rest of the way to the second floor. Harry suddenly knew where Lupin was leading them.

"I don't see anyone," Lupin said, his eyes darting this way and that along the empty corridor. "Come on!"

They were inside in a minute, tripping over each other and their own feet in their haste.

"Shh!"

Harry held his breath. Lupin, whom he couldn't see in the darkness, was still panting from his run.

"I don't hear anything," Harry said after a few moments that felt like an hour. "I don't think anyone saw us."

"I don't think so either, but if they're searching the school, we can't take any chances. We need to stay quiet."

"What the bloody hell?" Sirius said. "Who's after us?"

"Did you say someone's searching the school?" Harry asked. His skin felt prickly with apprehension. "Are they looking for us?"

"I... I don't know," Lupin said, swallowing audibly. "Some Aurors. I didn't actually see them."

"You... didn't... see... them...?" Sirius repeated slowly. Harry imagined he could see the exact expression on Sirius' face.

"I saw them on... on the Map."

There was a short silence. Harry had just barely caught himself about to demand what Lupin had been doing with the Map.

"Think we can get some light?" Sirius asked. "I can't see a blasted thing."

"Go ahead."

After some shuffling, Sirius found the lamp and lit it.

Harry looked around. The space that had seemed small but cozy to him the last time he had been there, now seemed claustrophobic. Lupin's face was extremely pale and he was still clutching his wand. Sirius was sweaty and dishevelled. Harry suspected he didn't look much better himself.

"Well, sit," Sirius said. To lead by example he plopped down on one of the overstuffed pillows. "We can't do much else."

"Right," Lupin said. He finally noticed that he had his wand out, frowned at it, and put it away. "We'll just wait."

For a few minutes they sat in silence, which grew more and more strained.

"So, what happened?" Harry asked when he couldn't stand it anymore.

Lupin started to shrug, then sighed. "I came back and you were gone. I thought I'd take a quick look at the Map to save myself some time."

"And you're sure you saw Aurors?" Sirius asked, frowning. "You're sure?"

"I didn't recognize all the names," Lupin said, a little defiantly. "There was a whole group of them. I didn't think I should give them the benefit of the doubt."

"But they might not be after us," Harry said, his head clearing a bit now that the sense of immediate danger had passed. "It's the first day Hogwarts is officially open. They might be here as a precaution."

"Maybe," Lupin said, looking doubtful.

Sirius leaned back against the wall, still frowning. "It was a good idea to get us out of the way, Moony. That was good thinking. But now what?"

"I have the Map with me."

Harry couldn't help seeing how Sirius' eyes lit up at that, and he exchanged an uncomfortable look with Lupin. Beside the Invisibility Cloak, the Map would be one thing Snape would not want to fall into Sirius' hands, had he known Harry still had it.

"Let's see it," Sirius said, just as Harry had known he would. "We'll know when they leave."

"If they leave," Lupin said, a little desperately. "What if James is right, and they stay as long as the Feast?"

It was Harry and Sirius, this time, who exchanged an uncomfortable look.

"Let's not think about things that haven't happened yet," Sirius said finally. "Look, I'm starving! Isn't it grand we got all this food when we did?"

Harry tried to smile, but his face felt wooden. It was all very well to hide, and all very well they had plenty of food from their kitchen raid, but Lupin was right. They were in a world of trouble if it wasn't safe to leave their hiding place before night came.

The Map was spread out on the top of a box in front of them.

"I see them," Sirius said right away. He tapped his finger on the parchment. "There. And there."

"There, too," Lupin said, pointing at another spot. "The dungeons."

Harry squinted at the group of tiny dots milling around on the Map. It looked like most of the Aurors were in the antechamber just off the Entrance Hall. A few others were in the Great Hall, and the two Lupin had spotted had left the dungeons and were now making their way up to the first floor.

"Does it look like a search to you?" Sirius asked. "They seem to be standing around doing a whole lot of nothing."

Lupin was following the progress of the Aurors on the main staircase. "I don't know."

"Let's just keep an eye on them."

With that, Sirius seemed to lose interest in whatever the Aurors were doing at Hogwarts. He pulled a Quidditch magazine from another box, popped open a bottle of butterbeer, and settled back, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

Unfortunately, no amount of food or Quidditch magazines could last them through the hours of captivity that followed.

"I'm bored," Sirius said, propping his head up as if it had grown too heavy for his head. "Are they gone yet?"

"No," Lupin said shortly, not bothering to look at the Map.

Harry sat up and peered more closely at it. It was true the Aurors were still at Hogwarts, but they stayed mostly on the ground floor. The two who had ventured up the staircase had gone briefly into the hospital wing, but had rejoined the others.

"I suppose they will stay all day," Sirius said, sniffing irritably. "Then what?"

Harry couldn't help looking at Lupin. Lupin was scowling.

"Maybe we can get a message to Professor Snape," Harry suggested. "Let's see if we can find him."

It must have been a sign of their growing desperation that even Sirius did not scoff at this idea.

"No good," Lupin said after a few moments. "He's right there next to McGonagall."

Harry was not quite willing to give up. He was trying to figure out their own location. "Where are we?"

Sirius shook his head. "It's not on the Map --"

"I know that," Harry interrupted. "You told me. Just where, about?"

"There," Sirius pointed to a corridor on the second floor. "Should be right here."

"We're close to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Harry said, pursing his lips. "Very close."

"Who?" Sirius asked, looking at him like he'd grown a second set of ears.

Even Lupin took his eyes off the Map long enough to give Harry a confused look.

"Oh, come on," Harry said, looking at one and then the other. "Moaning Myrtle! She was here even when you were at Hogwarts. And I must have told you about her...."

"Er..." said Sirius.

"No," Lupin finished for him.

"Moaning Myrtle is the student who was killed by the basilisk, the first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened," Harry explained, feeling odd that he knew something about Hogwarts that they didn't. "And she lives in that bathroom!" He pointed at the place on the Map, just a few centimeters away from where Sirius had pointed earlier.

"She lives in a girls' loo?" Sirius repeated, tilting his head to one side.

"Because that's the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Oh," Sirius said. He didn't look particularly excited by this information.

Lupin scratched his neck. "The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in a bathroom?"

"Yes. And I reckon there's no one else who can open it. You need to speak Parseltongue."

"What good is that to us?" Sirius asked, looking even more disinterested.

"I'm a Parselmouth," Harry said, rather annoyed. Hermione, by now, would have understood.

Sirius waved him off. "Not that --I know that. But what good is the Chamber of Secrets to us?"

"I just thought...!" Harry huffed irritably. "I just thought, if it starts to get dark and we're still here, I can open the Chamber of Secrets and Milo can go down there. It'll be perfectly safe...."

He trailed off, because while Sirius looked a great deal more interested now, Lupin was looking at him reproachfully.

"Right," Lupin said. "Because that's where Hogwarts stows all its monsters, isn't it."

"That --!" Harry let out an indignant breath. What was wrong with Lupin? "That is completely not what I meant! If it wasn't the full moon, I'd say we could all go down there together, right now."

Lupin started to reply, then shook his head and looked away.

Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, presumably in support of Harry. "Look, it doesn't even matter. They're leaving."

Harry looked where Sirius was pointing. The group of dots was in the Entrance Hall, close to the doors. As he watched, they formed a more orderly line and trickled out into the courtyard and then away across the grounds, toward the gates.

"Great," Harry said with not much enthusiasm. "We can go now, I reckon."

"We'll wait until they've definitely gone," Sirius said. "Say, do you see the greasy git anywhere? I lost track of him."

The three of them were quiet as they searched opposite ends of the Map.

"Here," Sirius said suddenly. "He just popped up out of nowhere!"

Harry looked where Sirius had pointed, and immediately knew how Snape had managed such a trick. "Hmm," he said noncommittally. "Wonder what he's doing way up there."

"Probably though that's where we'd go," Sirius said, making a face. "We did go to the seventh floor that one time."

"Right," Harry agreed, relieved Sirius didn't seem interested in Snape's sudden appearance anymore.

"They've gone," Lupin informed them. He picked up the Map and folded it. "Let's leave here."

Harry couldn't help noticing that Lupin still wouldn't look at him. He sighed. It was only a few hours before the Sorting now, and he rather wanted Lupin on his side.

---

"Where were you?"

Harry, experiencing an irritating sense of deja vu, was tempted to tell Snape they had been in the library, doing some light reading, that whole time. He wisely kept his mouth shut.

"It was my fault, Professor," Lupin said. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I... I saw the Aurors and... I guess I panicked a bit. We thought it best to stay out of sight until they'd gone."

Snape glared at him.

"Which was good thinking!" Sirius put in.

Snape opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of whatever he intended to say. His eyes shifted from Lupin to Harry, and narrowed ever more slightly. "You did a good job of staying out of sight, indeed."

Harry swallowed and looked away, but it was too late now. He knew he looked guilty, because he felt so. He had the feeling Snape would corner him soon enough, and this time would not let him get away with keeping their hideaway secret.

"It was routine," Snape said, unexpectedly changing the subject. "The Ministry has an interest in school security, especially in light of recent events. Now, the two of you --" Snape indicated Harry and Sirius, "-- are to go to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall will take charge of you. You --" Snape grasped Lupin by the upper arm as if to make absolutely clear his intention of not letting Lupin out of his sight, "-- are coming to my office."

Lupin allowed himself to be dragged away, not even looking back once.

They turned and started walking.

"Well," Harry said with a tired sigh, "at least he'll get his potion."

"Right. He'll feel better after he does." Sirius reached out and awkwardly patted Harry on the shoulder. "Don't mind him. He always gets sensitive right before."

Harry shrugged and didn't say anything.

"Anyway, all's well that ends well." Sirius slapped Harry one more time on the back. "Look, here we are."

Harry looked up. They had reached the Great Hall, where McGonagall was directing students to and fro.

"I didn't realize it was this late," Harry said. The Great Hall looked ready for the feast. Every student he saw was already wearing school robes, and the enchanted ceiling overhead was darkening in front of their eyes.

"Mr. McKenna and Mr. Puddifoot," McGonagall called sharply. "Come over here at once."

Sirius sighed audibly. Harry had to pull him along.

"Did Professor Snape pass on my instructions?" McGonagall demanded as soon as they were near enough.

"We did see him," Harry said. "But he just said to come here and find you."

"I see," McGonagall said. "You must put on your uniforms. You may wait in the chamber off the Entrance Hall until the train carrying the other students has arrived. This way we will be sure not to lose you. I am letting the other children walk to the station to meet their friends."

As they walked back toward the dungeons, Sirius poked Harry in the ribs.

"The other children, she said," he said with disgust. "The other children! That woman!"

Harry tried not to laugh.

---

McGonagall was herding a group of children down the corridor.

Sirius hopped down off the table, where he wasn't supposed to be sitting, and smoothed down his robes. "Not a very large group, is it?"

"I'm surprised there were this many families willing to send their children," Lupin said, grimacing. "Especially when it's their first year and on such short notice."

Harry nodded, but said nothing. He couldn't help noticing that a lot of the children -- at least half of the group -- were familiar to him. He had seen them in the Great Hall at meals and in the hospital wing. Perhaps they had no families left to worry about them or make decisions about where to send them.

"All right, then," Sirius said, the lightness in his voice ringing false. "Remember, all together."

Lupin went a shade paler, but there was no time for either him or Harry to make another attempt at getting Sirius to cooperate. McGonagall was at the door, waving the children inside briskly.

"Don't dawdle, Perkins," she reprimanded a fat little boy who had stopped to crane his neck in an attempt to see into the Great Hall. "Come inside."

Harry remembered being eleven years old and standing in that very room, waiting to hear McGonagall explain what he would have to do. The same nervous, excited, and terrified feeling was stirring up inside him again, though this time, at least, he knew there were no trolls to wrestle or spells to perform.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The Sorting ceremony will begin shortly, followed by the start-of-term banquet. There are four houses at Hogwarts, and they are called Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and your house will be something like your family while you are here. You will sleep in your house dormitory, spend your free time in your house common room, and support your house by earning house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points shall be awarded the house cup."

As McGonagall wound down her speech, which seemed shorter than the version Harry remembered, he recalled that she would leave them for a short time before returning to lead them to the Great Hall. Desperately, he tried to think of just one more thing he could say to Sirius, before that happened.

Unfortunately, the chance was denied to him.

"Come forward as I call your names," McGonagall said, taking a roll of parchment out of her pocket. "August, Miranda."

Moments later she had them all lined up alphabetically. Harry found himself toward the front of the group in spite of his surname, with Lupin right behind him. They were separated from Sirius by a pair of nervously-giggling twins and the now sniffling Perkins. There was no chance for even one more word to be exchanged.

"Follow me," McGonagall said.

Harry followed the student in front of him, his feet dragging. This was it. He didn't feel at all ready.

What if Snape was wrong? What if the Sorting Hat knew it was him, and refused to sort him, or, worse, shouted out his name? That it had never done such a thing before didn't matter; things were always happening to him that had never happened before.

What if he got into Slytherin, like Snape wanted, only to watch Lupin and Sirius go off to Gryffindor without him? He didn't see Lupin in Slytherin, and if Lupin didn't manage it, somehow, Sirius would have even less reason to try.

If he tried at all! Sirius might get sorted into Gryffindor no matter what the two of them did. He might do it out of spite, after they went against his brilliant plan.

What if...!

He gulped as they entered the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands of candles and the tables were set for the great feast. It was quite obvious many students were absent. There were more than just the usual number of empty seats at each table, waiting for the new arrivals to fill them.

He tried not to look at the Gryffindor table. He didn't want to know, just then, if his friends were there.

He looked forward, instead, and looked at the head table.

Snape was there, looking pale and grim. Harry looked away again quickly before their eyes could meet.

The stool had already been set up, with the Sorting Hat on top of it. Harry waited for it to start its song. Any delay was welcome.

Others were waiting, too. The whole Hall was looking at the shabby hat.

Gradually, a low murmur started up and down the rows.

Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat. "When I call your name, you must put on the Sorting Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

Already something was wrong, Harry thought with a dreadful sinking feeling. What did it mean for the Hat to stay silent?

"August, Miranda."

The girl who was first in line tottered forward and almost collapsed on the stool, pulling the Hat down over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

McGonagall looked relieved. "Cuthbert, Edwin."

Harry's heart was beating so hard now that he barely heard as Cuthbert, Edwin and then Glendower, Louisa were sent to Ravenclaw.

Lupin gave him a little push forward as the line moved up.

"Gunther, Gemma."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Hammond, Gareth."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Isaac, Norah."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lupin had to give him another push. He felt like all the air had been sucked from the Great Hall.

"Lachlan, Lacy."

Lachlan, Lacy sat on the stool for a good two minutes while the Hat contemplated.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The girl, looking so relieved she was almost crying, ran to the Hufflepuff table.

"McKenna, James."

It took a hard shove from Lupin to get Harry moving.

Feeling like his body belonged to someone else, Harry picked the Hat up and sat down on the stool. With no way to delay the inevitable, he set the Hat down on his head, where it slipped down over his forehead and left him sitting in total darkness.

"Ah..." said the Hat conversationally. "A bright mind, I see. Loyal to your friends. A thirst for --"

"Slytherin," Harry thought as hard as he could. Even in his thoughts, his voice shook badly.

"Eh? Slytherin, you say?"

"Please, yes, Slytherin. I want to go to Slytherin."

"Are you sure?" the Hat asked. "I see great power, but --"

"I'm a Parselmouth! I talk to snakes! I live with Snape! Please put me in Slytherin!"

"I see courage and --"

"SLYTHERIN," Harry almost screamed inside his head. "PLEASE, SLYTHERIN!"

"Hrmp," said that Hat. "Slytherin."

Harry sat there, waiting for it to go on, but it didn't.

Suddenly he realized he could hear clapping.

Had it said that last part out loud? Had it really said it?

He scrambled off the stool, pulling the Sorting Hat off, and saw that it was, indeed, the Slytherin table that was clapping.

He very nearly went with the Hat still in his hands, only just remembering in time and dropping it back on the stool.

"Moony, Milo."

Harry, who by this time was nearly at the Slytherin table, almost tripped over his feet. By the time he had sat down, Lupin was already on the stool, the Hat on his head.

It was an agonizingly long wait.

"Taking its time with this lot, isn't it?" muttered an older boy sitting across from Harry. "If it takes so long with them all, we'll not be done by morning."

Harry kept staring at Lupin and the Hat.

"Slytherin. Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin," he repeated over and over in his head, as if he could somehow force the Hat to hear it.

"Ridiculous," said another boy down the table.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry jumped, so shocked that he almost fell off the bench.

Slytherin! Lupin had done it --somehow!

Lupin, looking like he had no idea how he had accomplished the feat, ran to join him at the Slytherin table.

"Pembleton, Anita."

They were reminded sharply that it was not over, as Pembleton, Anita went to Gryffindor. Lupin had gone pale once again.

With dread, Harry forced himself to look at the line of students who had not yet been sorted.

Sirius was glaring thunderously at them. He was making no attempt to hide it.

"Pembleton, Amelie."

Pembleton, Amelie joined her twin at the Gryffindor table, almost skipping down the isle the entire way there.

"Perkins, Noah."

The Hat had barely touched the head of Perkins before it shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" and then --

"Puddifoot, Patrick."

Sirius, when he was enraged, could certainly look like he was enraged... and he was enraged. He shot out of line like a bludger, barrelled down the isle toward the head table, and there paused to give the entire Great Hall the benefit of his most vicious glare before he jammed the Sorting Hat onto his head, not even bothering with the stool.

There was utter silence in the Great Hall. Certainly, in the recent history of Hogwarts, no first year student had behaved in such manner.

Harry was too afraid to look at Snape, and, anyway, he could not take his eyes off Sirius, who, even now, with his head almost completely covered by the floppy Hat, was the very picture of wrath. Even from so far away, Harry could see he was practically vibrating, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Another one," muttered the boy across from Harry, when several minutes -- or so it felt like --had passed.

Lupin found Harry's hand under the table, and squeezed it so hard that Harry could no longer feel his fingers. His nerves felt like a string pulled so taut it had to break soon. Every second doubled the ache in his chest, until he almost didn't care what the outcome was. Let the Hat put Sirius in Gryffindor, if that's what it was going to do! Just let it be over before his heart gave out from the strain.

And then it was over.

With the force of a firecracker going off, Sirius exploded from under the Sorting Hat, ripping it off his head with one clawed hand. He shook it as if he meant to reduce it to shreds.

"SLYTHERIN!" he howled at the top of his lungs. "SLY-THE-RIN!"

And then, flinging the Hat back onto the stool, he took off for the Slytherin table, knocking so hard into Lupin and Harry that the bench they sat on was nearly toppled over.

His face beet red, Sirius slammed his forehead into the table and buried his head in his arms.

The silence in the Great Hall lasted for another stunned minute.

"That's the way," said a heavyset fourth year, reaching over Harry and Lupin to give Sirius a hearty slap on the back. "Hope they'll let you stay."

One by one, the Slytherins began to clap in agreement.

Harry finally got up the courage to look at the head table.

McGonagall, her face very white and her lips very thin, cleared her throat and adjusted her spectacles. She looked down at her roll of parchment.

"Salinger, Wilma."

Harry, in his relief, did not know if Salinger, Wilma ended up in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin, nor the fate of Sutherland, Selena; Tate, Juliette; Titus, Olivia; or Vaughn, Dominic.

They had done it.

He extracted his hand from Lupin's sweaty, shaking grasp.

"We did it."

Lupin turned to look at him with impossibly wide eyes, and nodded.

Together, they looked down at Sirius, who had yet to move.

"Zoltan, Quincy."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Zoltan, Quincy, the last student to be sorted, went to join his fellow Ravenclaws, while the stool and Sorting Hat were removed.

McGonagall looked like she wanted to say something. Indeed, Harry thought, she probably had a speech ready. It was, after all, her first year as Headmistress, and this was not a typical start-of-year feast.

Then, as if thinking better of it, or perhaps giving it up as a lost cause after the eventful Sorting, she raised her wand and called, "Let the Feast begin."

The tables groaned under the weight of the food that appeared. Harry, suddenly starving, could not stop himself from reaching for the platter of fresh bread. All around him, students were talking and laughing and already arguing, filling their plates and goblets until there were mountains of food in front of everyone.

Harry looked at Sirius again. All he could see was a patch of livid red skin where Sirius' hair didn't meet the crook of his arm.

He shrugged at Lupin, who looked back at him and shook his head helplessly.

"Put some of this in your pocket. He might be hungry later, and you can give it to him then."

Harry checked that no one was watching before wrapping the bread, fruit, and raspberry tarts in a napkin and slipping them into the pocket of his robes.

Lupin had just reminded him that tonight he would be alone with Sirius. Suddenly his appetite was gone again.

"You'd best eat something," Lupin said. "It looks odd if you don't, and you already missed one meal today."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Right."

It seemed that measures had been taken to account for Lupin's condition. Mid-way through the feast, McGonagall held up her hand for silence.

"As you may have guessed, we have been working very hard to prepare the school for today. While I regret to cut short your festivities, I will need to meet with some students before you are all dismissed for the night. Please listen for your name, and if called, come up to the head table."

Taking out another roll of parchment, she adjusted her glasses.

"First, the prefects and the Head Boy and Girl. Abbot, Hannah."

Hannah, at the Hufflepuff table, wiped her mouth hastily with a napkin and hurried to the front of the Hall.

"Goldstein, Anthony."

The Ravenclaw prefect joined Hannah.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

There was silence. McGonagall was looking over at their table. "Not with us today? I'm afraid Slytherin has no prefect at the moment, then --"

"I am here."

Harry's stomach turned to lead.

It took McGonagall a moment to recover, but her voice was even when she spoke. "Malfoy, Draco."

Harry had happened to be looking at Snape, and so he saw the effect Malfoy's appearance had. Snape, it seemed, had neither known that Malfoy was still in the castle, nor could quite decide how he felt about it. A conflicting array of emotions flickered over his sallow face before an inscrutable mask replaced them. Snape raised his goblet in a toast as Malfoy made his way toward the head table.

"Great," Harry muttered.

Lupin elbowed him in the side to remind him where they were.

"Granger, Hermione and Weasley, Ronald."

Harry should have known it was coming, but was caught unprepared. He averted his eyes as his friends left the Gryffindor table.

"Winston, Claudius and Zeller, Zinia."

The Head Boy, a Ravenclaw, and the Head Girl, a Hufflepuff, joined the prefects.

"Cuthbert, Edwin."

Looking confused, the Ravenclaw first year stood up.

"Gunther, Gemma."

Another first year Ravenclaw hurried to the front.

"Perkins, Noah."

"Lachlan, Lacy."

A pair of Hufflepuffs, this time.

"Hammond, Gareth." And then, "Isaac, Norah."

Somehow, Harry knew Lupin was next.

"Moony, Milo."

Lupin tried to give Harry a shaky smile, which Harry couldn't force his face to return, and then he stood up and walked toward the front of the Great Hall.

"Tate, Juliette."

Tate, Juliette, who turned out to be a Slytherin too, squeaked with surprise.

"All first years," commented an older girl. "I wonder what she wants them for."

As McGonagall led the chosen students away, Harry couldn't help feeling abandoned. He poked at his food, no longer hungry.

He would have missed it if an older Slytherin hadn't felt compelled to take charge of the first years.

"That's our head of house, Professor Snape."

Harry looked up. Snape had left his seat and was making his way slowly to the end of the head table, stopping to speak with some of the other professors.

"I wonder where he's going?"

Harry, of course, had a good idea of where Snape was going. Someone had to make sure Lupin made it to wherever it was -- Harry only then realized he did not know -- he was to spend the night.

The feast ended. Harry had not eaten much, but his stomach felt as uncomfortable as if he had eaten three times his own weight.

"This way, first years," commanded Malfoy. Harry hadn't noticed him return. "Follow me. We are to go straight to our common room." His pale eyes swept over the Slytherin table. "All of us. Headmistress' order."

For one wild moment, as the other students stood up, Harry wondered what he was to do if Sirius refused to budge.

Sirius, however, stood up robotically, looking at his feet.

They marched in a tight group past the other tables, where the other prefects had not yet managed to get control, and out to the Entrance Hall.

"This staircase leads to the dungeons --" Malfoy stopped short, blinking. "Professor."

Snape had materialized out of the pitch blackness of the stairwell. His eyes came to rest on Harry.

"McKenna and Puddifoot are to come with me," Snape said in a grim tone. "Carry on, Mr. Malfoy."

There was a confused murmur among the Slytherins.

"As you are well aware," Snape said, addressing the Slytherins at large while keeping Harry pinned under his gaze, "the wizarding world has suffered many casualties. I counted many of the fallen among my friends. I considered it my duty to take charge of their orphaned children, all of whom were tonight sorted into the house of Slytherin."

The Slytherins were now silent.

"I have changed my mind, however, about allowing them to stay in the dormitory, at least until such a time as I am more satisfied with their ability to behave in a manner befitting our noble house."

All eyes went to Sirius, who was still staring straight at the floor.

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Carry on, Mr. Malfoy."

Harry and Sirius were left behind with Snape as the Slytherins passed them. Only when the sounds of footsteps died away did Snape motion for them to follow him down the dungeon staircase.

Snape led them into his quarters. Harry, seeing Snape's hand twitch toward his wand and his eyes dart toward one of the closed doors, knew suddenly where Lupin was spending the night. He recalled the dirty and dank little cellar with a shudder.

As soon as the door to their room was shut, Snape rounded on them.

"Never have I seen such a display!"

Harry joined Sirius in staring at the floor.

Snape drew in a breath, as if readying to carry on his tirade, but when he spoke it was with odd calmness. "Nevertheless, you did do what I asked you, and that is something. Go to bed."

With that, Snape opened the door and let himself out, shutting it behind him. From the ripples of magic that went through the wood, Harry knew they were being securely locked in.

He swallowed and looked at Sirius. "I guess we had better go to bed. I'm very tired."

Sirius said nothing, but turned and walked to his own bed and began to change into his nightclothes.

Harry watched him for a few moments. He had never seen this side of Sirius, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Still, he wouldn't rather have Sirius openly hostile, especially after an already long and tiring day. He just wished he knew what was going on in Sirius' head.

Sirius got into bed, pulling the covers up almost over his face.

Harry snuffed out the torch before climbing into his own bed, trying to get comfortable.

He couldn't sleep. He wished he had thought to take the Dreamless Sleep potion, and that he had thought to remind Sirius to take his. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence in the room, though.

"James? Are you asleep?"

"No," Harry said quickly.

The bedsprings creaked, and Harry squinted until he made out a lump across the room. Sirius had sat up, pulling himself up against the headboard.

"The Hat took a long time with you," Sirius said. His voice was strained. "Did it try to put you in Gryffindor?"

"It was trying to tell me what it saw in me," Harry said cautiously. The Sorting Hat had not, after all, actually said where it thought he belonged.

"But you told it you wanted to go to Slytherin, and it let you?"

"I guess so."

Harry waited, but Sirius did not reply.

"I just kept saying, Slytherin, Slytherin, until the Hat gave up trying to put me anywhere else."

Sirius was still silent. Harry wished he hadn't said so much.

"Oh," Sirius finally said.

"It... took a long time with you, too, Paddy," Harry said quietly, afraid of Sirius' reaction. "A very long time."

Sirius sighed dejectedly. "You won't laugh? I didn't laugh at you when you said it tried to put you in Slytherin before."

"I won't laugh," Harry said. At the moment, laughing was the last thing he felt like doing.

There was silence. This time it was so long that Harry was certain Sirius had changed his mind.

"You went to Slytherin and then Moony did, too. I thought... I was so angry with both of you, I was going to let the damn Hat put me in Gryffindor just to show you..." Sirius trailed off.

"I was afraid you might," Harry confessed. "I really thought you would."

Sirius drew a breath. "Yeah, well, I got there and the blasted Hat was taking its sweet time. I thought about being in Gryffindor by myself...."

"And...?" Harry prompted when Sirius went silent again.

"And!" Sirius huffed indignantly. Harry saw him sit up straighter, pushing away from the headboard. "The filthy old rag said I was loyal and tried to stick me in Hufflepuff! HUFFLEPUFF -- my God!

"James?

"James, you're laughing, aren't you. Damn you."

Harry, who had been slowly dying, trying to hold his breath while his sides ached and tears streamed out of his eyes, fell completely apart. A horrible series of snorts, which he couldn't hope to stifle, exploded out of him.

Sirius slid down in bed and pulled up the covers. "Good night, James," he said contemptuously.

"I'm... I'm... sorry," Harry choked out.

But he could not stop laughing.

Harry had difficulty waking up. His eyelids felt heavy and swollen, and his head swam when he moved it, making him sink back against the pillows.

"Go back to sleep, McKenna, this doesn't concern you."

Hearing Snape's voice, of course, brought him closer to wakefulness.

Forcing open his eyes, he turned his head, ignoring the wave of dizziness, toward Sirius' bed.

Snape was standing over Sirius, wand in one hand and a lamp in the other. The yellowish light was enough that Harry could see Snape's lips moving soundlessly.

Sirius never stirred.

The clock told Harry it was just past midnight. He remembered now that he had taken the Dreamless Sleep potion after all. Sirius had fallen asleep, or was pretending to be, and Harry had tossed and turned, unable to will himself to sleep. Clearly, it hadn't worked its way out of his system yet. Even now, he could feel it starting to pull him under again.

Whatever Snape had been doing, it was done. He raised the lamp higher, making Harry blink and flinch away from the brightness.

"I told you to go back to sleep."

"Yeth..." Harry moved his swollen tongue around in his mouth. "Yes, sir."

Snape left the room, taking the light with him and shutting the door quietly.

Harry wanted to get up and check on Sirius, but the potion wouldn't let him. He meant only to shut his eyes for a moment to wait out the blots of blue and red that the light had set to dancing through his head, but he was unable to open them again.

---

"Wake up, James."

Someone was shaking his shoulder insistently.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He instinctively looked at Sirius' bed, though quite aware that he had been asleep for some time.

Sirius' bed was empty and neatly made.

Lupin was looking down at him intently, his lips a thin line. "Did something happen?"

"Yes. Professor Snape was in here in the middle of the night, casting some sort of spell on Paddy. I'd taken Dreamless Sleep and couldn't wake up properly." Harry untangled his fists from the blanket, which he had unconsciously balled up. He shook his cramped fingers. "I don't know what he was doing."

"I do," Lupin said, his expression sour. "Patrick won't be happy about it. I was hoping it hadn't been done yet."

"What...?" Harry frowned. "Wait. Patrick?"

"You couldn't call him Patrick --well, you know what I mean -- so I suppose it makes little difference to you."

Harry nodded glumly. Why had Snape done it? Hadn't they been careful enough?

"I suppose it makes good sense," Lupin said. "There are a number of students for whom our nicknames are familiar."

Harry stared at him. For all of Lupin's false calm, he looked quite put out.

"Well, what's done is done," Lupin said with an exaggerated shrug. "I had just come to see if Patrick had been awake when it happened."

"He was asleep," Harry said. "And where is he, anyway?"

"Taking a shower. He tried to get into Professor Snape's room, but it was locked, and he gave up after a bit."

Harry looked closer at Lupin. Despite dark circles under his eyes, Lupin didn't look much worse than he had the previous day. There were no scratches or bruises anywhere that Harry could see.

"I'm fine," Lupin said, forcing a smile. "Really, the Wolfsbane does wonders and my headache is gone. It always goes once it's over with, for all I look sickly and pale for a while afterward."

Harry nodded.

"So, how is he?"

Harry considered for a few moments. "All right, I suppose. He told me the Sorting Hat tried to put him in Hufflepuff -- called him loyal because he didn't want to be in Gryffindor all alone -- and that's what had him all riled up." "I believe the Puddifoot family sorted Hufflepuff as well as Slytherin," Lupin said, frowning. "The more I learn about the sorting process, the less I like it. It seems to put very little stock in the traits favored by each founder, after all."

Harry, who had only then recalled that tidbit of information about Sirius' supposed family, suppressed laughter. "Let's not tell him. Let him think the Hat really thought he'd make a good Hufflepuff."

Lupin started to answer, but the door slammed open to reveal a freshly bathed Sirius, hair dripping into his face and a damp towel clenched in his hands.

"There you are! Lot of good you are! I pounded on that greasy git's door for nothing just now, and you're just sitting here?"

"Sorry," Lupin said flatly. "Do dry off. Your collar is soaked and you won't have time to change again."

Sirius did nothing of the sort. He crossed the room in a bound and dropped down onto Harry's bed next to Lupin, spraying both of them with cold droplets.

"Really, Patrick," Lupin said, frowning at him.

"Oh, all right." Sirius threw the towel over his head, disappearing under it.

More water reached Harry's face, and he sat up, finally, pushing the blanket away from himself. His clothes were where he had left them the night before, on the floor, and he took the time to fold them and put them on the trunk at the foot of the bed.

"You'd better shower now, James. We have some time before breakfast, but not much."

Sirius reappeared from under the towel, his hair standing up on end. "I took the last towel. Sorry."

"There are more in the cupboard next to the bathroom. Do you think you can manage?" Lupin frowned at Sirius. "Brush your hair, Patrick."

"Sure," Harry said.

He picked up his school robes and a set of clean clothes, and headed for the door.

He only winced, and didn't stop, when he heard Sirius' confused voice behind him.

"Why did you call me Patrick again?"

---

Sirius was still sulking when they got their class schedules over breakfast.

"History first thing," Harry groused. "And Transfiguration right after it, just when we'll be half asleep from boredom."

"Shhh!" Lupin warned.

Harry looked around exaggeratedly. They were sitting at one end of the Slytherin table, with the upper years on the other end and the two first year girls huddled together in the middle. There were so few Slytherin students that every one of them could have sat without being able to reach out and touch fingertips with another person.

"Potions after lunch," he continued. "That's not too bad. It doesn't look like a double. Charms on Mondays and Thursdays only, but it's a double both days. Defense last thing --" Harry exchanged a troubled look with Lupin. Sirius still didn't know Snape would be teaching that class as well as Potions. "-- except on Wednesdays, when it's Herbology. I don't see Astronomy at all. I suppose they couldn't find an instructor."

"No, they haven't found one," Lupin said. "Nor for Herbology, either, but Neville Longbottom will teach the lower years and oversee the upper years' projects until someone is found."

Harry stared dumbly at Lupin. Neville? Teaching a class?

It seemed unreal to him that he could be sitting there, aged 10 or 11 and starting his first year of school all over again, while one of his friends, a sixth year like he should have been now, was going to teach a class.

While his other friends would be one year closer to leaving Hogwarts.

And he was starting over.

He shook his head to clear it. It did no good to dwell on it, and he didn't want Snape's voice floating up to the top of his memory.

I mean, Minerva, that the three miscreants will most likely spend the next seven years as our students.

He forced himself to read his schedule over again, just to clear his mind of the unwanted thoughts.

Sirius stabbed his fork into his eggs and hash. Their goblets of pumpkin juice trembled ominously.

"Stop it," Lupin said, steadying his glass.

"My life --" began Sirius.

"Don't say it," Lupin growled.

Sirius huffed and speared an overly-large portion of eggs, most of which fell off his fork and back onto his plate before they reached his mouth.

Lupin looked like he was fighting the urge to say something.

"Uh, so," Harry quickly put in, "it's Tuesday, so we'll have History, which has moved to the third floor."

Lupin took a long sip of pumpkin juice.

Sirius swallowed his food, which looked painful to do, and gulped his juice, sloshing some on his plate and causing Lupin to give him another dark look.

Harry read his schedule once more from the top.

"First years, follow me."

Harry grimaced.

Here was another of his year-mates who had decided to take on a more mature role.

Prefect Malfoy was already herding the other two students, of whom Harry only recognized Juliette Titus from the sorting ceremony, toward the exit.

"Come on," Lupin said, getting up and stepping over the bench. "Before we draw unwanted attention toward ourselves."

In spite of himself, Harry had to smile at Lupin's imitation of Snape's dire warnings.

They followed Malfoy, who lead them up the staircase, pointing out various features of the castle with about as much pomp as Percy Weasley was capable of.

"The little git," Sirius muttered under his breath as they were shown the well-familiar trick step and warned against wandering the castle at night. "Who put him in charge? Who even let him back into Hogwarts?"

"Shhh," Lupin said. "Just... shhh."

Harry stifled a snort.

At last they were deposited at the entrance to the new History of Magic classroom, which turned out to be a nondescript door in the middle of the third floor corridor, with a shiny brass plate stating:

 

History of Magic
Prof. A. Spinnet

 

Harry stifled a groan this time.

"What?" Lupin whispered.

Harry only shook his head.

"Well, come on, then." Lupin pulled on Harry's sleeve, nodding meaningfully toward the other first years, who huddled together and looked to have no intention of being the ones to knock on or open the classroom door.

Sirius rolled his eyes and yanked on the door handle.

The door swung open and the three of them stepped inside.

It was quite a regular classroom, with neat rows of desks, bookshelves lining one wall and several large maps on the opposite one, and a podium at the front.

"Clear the way, please," someone said from the back, in a voice that was achingly familiar. "Step all the way inside. We have more students coming."

Harry moved to the side, pulling Sirius with him and using him as a shield to hide behind.

"This is the History of Magic classroom," Hermione continued, ushering in a group of Gryffindor first years. It is taught by Professor Spinnet and is one of the seven --" She paused, apparently remembering that Astronomy had been dropped. "One of the six core classes offered at Hogwarts."

"Are you all right?" Lupin whispered.

Harry nodded miserably.

"I will be back at the end of your class to escort you to Transfiguration, should you require assistance."

Hermione turned smartly on her heel, having never once glanced in the direction of the Slytherin students, and walked away toward the staircase.

"Here we are. You have a lovely first day, now. Anthony and I will come by when your class ends."

Harry watched warily as a group of Hufflepuffs trooped in, turning back every few steps to wave at their cheery guide, Prefect Abbott.

"Stop yanking on me," Sirius told him, extracting his sleeve out of Harry's grasp.

"No one is looking at us," Lupin whispered. "Let's just find seats before all the good ones are taken."

Harry and Sirius watched with identical expressions of dismay as Lupin headed for the front of the room.

"I don't believe him," Sirius said at last.

Harry nodded in agreement.

There were enough desks to accommodate them all, even when the Ravenclaw first years arrived.

"Are we having this class with all the other houses?" Harry asked, leaning close to Lupin. "I don't think that's ever been done."

"I don't think there are enough first years to make four classes, or even two," Lupin whispered back. "And there aren't enough teachers."

Harry did a quick count -- something he had not done at the Sorting -- and found there to be eighteen first years in all, down from the usual thirty to forty, but perhaps not as few as he had been thinking.

He had already forgotten most of their names.

"Hello."

Harry looked to his right, where a girl with gold ringlets and an upturned nose had settled into the neighboring desk.

"I'm Juliette Tate."

Lupin elbowed him.

"I'm James. McKenna," Harry said quickly.

Juliette waited expectantly.

"My friends are Milo and Patrick."

Juliette waved to Lupin and Sirius. "Hello. I'm glad I'm in Slytherin. All my family was. Aren't you glad?"

Harry stared at her. "Yes," he said finally, after his ribs suffered another blow from Lupin. "Really glad, of course."

"I was chosen by Headmistress McGonagall to be part of a special leadership group, you know," Juliette continued. She looked smug. "But you won't hear about that for a while yet. It's very important and very special."

"Oh," Harry said.

"Stop bragging," snapped a girl with nut-brown hair who threw herself into a seat next to Juliette. "Honestly. You don't even know what it's for yourself yet. Hi!" She waved at Harry, Lupin, and Sirius. "I'm Wilma."

Harry braced himself for another verbal assault, but the twins who had been sorted into Gryffindor plopped into seats behind the two Slytherin girls, and the conversation promptly turned to some senseless article in a fashion magazine.

Harry looked reproachfully at Lupin, rubbing his bruised ribs.

Sirius had his head in his hands and was cracking up with laughter.

"It isn't funny, really," Harry muttered.

"Be nice, now," Lupin said. "I don't imagine you were much better."

The room was getting noisy with so many students. Every desk was occupied.

Harry saw poor Perkins in a far corner, trying not to be noticed and looking rather green. His robes looked like they had been bought for a child half his size, and they weren't new.

Harry tried to smile, but the sight of him seemed to push Perkins closer to being sick all over his desk, so Harry looked away again quickly.

"Odd, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry and Sirius said together.

"Most of -- uh -- most of us have been here since before the sorting. Almost everyone knows each other already. They're friends... even if they went to different houses."

Harry, with fresh eyes, looked around the room.

The four girls on his right, two Slytherins and two Gryffindors, were not the only odd group. And nowhere did he see students glaring at one another or picking fights. The conversations around him were friendly. Only the unfortunate Perkins was off by himself, having pushed his desk as close to the wall as he could.

"Hmm," Harry said.

"Might be an interesting year," Lupin said.

"Good morning, class."

Harry drew a deep breath to steady himself and turned, along with the rest of the students, toward the door.

It took a moment for him to be entirely sure, but in spite of the glasses, severe hairstyle, and smart dark red robes, the teacher who was making her way toward the podium was definitely Alicia.

Alicia. His Quidditch teammate for five years. Teaching a class.

"All right, there?" Lupin asked.

"It's just... odd," Harry said, shaking his head to clear it. "Like I'm not supposed to be here."

Sirius snorted.

"Let us try that again," Alicia said, taking her place behind the podium and regarding the class with a stony expression. "Good morning, class."

The conversations in the room died into complete silence.

"Good morning, Professor Spinnet," the class chorused timidly, Lupin leading.

"Excellent. You look like a bright lot and I expect great things from every one of you." She swept the room with a glance and paused with a frown when she saw Perkins and the new location of his desk. "All of you," she repeated. "Let us get to know each other." With a flourish, she produced some parchment and unrolled it. "When I call your name, please rise and say 'Here'. You may also state how you wish to be addressed --" She adjusted her glasses and peered over them. "That means any schoolroom-appropriate nickname or short form of your name."

Harry did an uncomfortable wiggle in his seat, causing Lupin to elbow him again.

Alicia consulted her parchment. "August, Miranda."

The Hufflepuff girl tripped over her feet as she got up, bobbing an odd sort of curtsy. "Here, Professor."

She fell back into her seat, her face pink.

"Cuthbert, Edwin."

Harry tried to match names to faces and remember them all. Edwin was a short boy with mousy hair and brown eyes. Gunther, Gemma, was a thin, pinched-looking girl who was sickly and pale.

"Isaac, Norah."

Perkins made a frightened squeak and almost fell out of his seat, earning him another frown from Alicia.

"Here, Professor," said Norah, who was a very pretty, dark-haired girl with feather earrings dangling down to her collar. She graced everyone with a wide, white-toothed smile before sitting down.

Soon enough it was his turn.

Harry dragged himself out of his seat, sure that every eye was on him. "Here, Professor."

It felt like an eternity that he stood there, silence around him.

"Well?" Alicia said.

Harry stared at her blankly.

"Do you have a nickname you wish to be called?"

"Er... no," Harry said, very stupidly.

Lupin pulled him down into his seat, amid snickers.

"Moony, Milo."

Lupin stood up promptly. "Here, Professor Spinnet." And sat down again.

Harry felt like sinking through the floor.

"Pembleton, Amelie."

Harry couldn't see the twins, as they were sitting behind him.

"Here, Professor."

"Pembleton, Anita,"

"Here, Professor. I prefer to be called Annie, if you please."

"So noted," Alicia said, marking the parchment with her quill. "Perkins, Noah."

There was silence, long enough that Alicia looked up, her eyes raking over the students in search of the missing Perkins.

"Perkins, Noah," she repeated sharply.

Perkins squeaked and tumbled out of his seat, then finally to his feet. "Here, ma'am."

"Professor."

If possible, Perkins turned a shade redder. "Yes, Professor. Here."

Harry felt horribly sorry for poor Perkins, and annoyed with Sirius for tittering along with the rest of the class.

They got through the list, with Quincy Zoltan, the last to be called, insisting on being addressed by surname.

Class began with a brief lecture, during which most students stared at Alicia with wide-open eyes before she snapped at them to take out parchment and quills and take notes.

Lupin, who had come prepared, handed out spare quills to Sirius, Harry, and a Hufflepuff sitting to their left.

Harry was already making comparisons between this and his least favorite class, Potions, the very first of which had left a permanent bad memory.

Several times, Noah Perkins squeaked nervously when Alicia called on Norah Isaac, earning him more irritated looks.

"Poor boy," Lupin said sympathetically.

"Ugh," grunted Sirius. "No. Reminds me of my teddy bear."

Lupin and Harry looked at Sirius with identical frowns of confusion.

Sirius had clamped his jaws shut, looking outraged. Livid red was creeping up his neck.

"Reminds you...?" Lupin repeated. Suddenly he sat up perfectly straight, his lips pinched together.

"What...?" Harry said, not understanding.

Sirius' quill snapped in half in his hand, spraying ink over his notes.

Wormtail, Lupin mouthed to Harry.

"Oh," Harry said, swallowing.

More of Snape's trickery.

He was very glad when class was over.

"Be sure to bring your books to our next class," Alicia said. "Tonight's homework is to read the introductory chapter and highlight all information covered in today's lecture. Your books and your notes will be checked at the start of class. Dismissed!"

The students spilled out into the hallway, where mixed-up bags and borrowed quills were quickly exchanged as the prefects began herding them towards Transfiguration.

Malfoy was notably absent, but the Slytherin girls were walking with the Gryffindor twins and a Hufflepuff, apparently unconcerned by their lack of personal escort.

Harry, who didn't feel like talking, trailed behind Lupin and Sirius, who had their heads close together. Sirius still looked sour, but Lupin seemed to have the situation under control, and Harry was content to let him deal with it.

He didn't look up from the floor until they reached the Transfiguration classroom.

For a moment, before McGonagall swept in, Harry was afraid this class might hold unwanted surprises, as well.

But McGonagall, it seemed, was willing to take on both teaching and Headmistress duties.

Harry sat silently through her introductory lecture, part of which he and Ron had missed the first time around. The first years were impressed, just as he remembered himself being, when she transformed into her Animagus form.

Sirius yawned.

"Did you not get enough sleep, Mr. Puddifoot?" McGonagall demanded. "Or shall I transfigure your wand into a pillow?"

The class laughed, while Sirius scowled.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," McGonagall continued sternly. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She said the exact same thing to me and Ron, Harry thought. The odd feeling of not being meant to be there was back, making his chest ache.

McGonagall waved her wand, and for a moment Harry was afraid she really would bait Sirius' temper further, but her spell merely summoned a matchstick to every desktop.

"Today you shall attempt to change a match into a needle --" McGonagall demonstrated the spell. "-- like so. Do not be upset if you are unable to do so on first try. Take notes."

There was shuffling as every student readied their quills and parchment. Sirius slammed his ink bottle on the desk, his narrowed eyes following McGonagall's every move.

Lupin's parchment was the only one out of their three that was covered in small, precise writing by the end of McGonagall's lecture. Sirius was doodling on the margins of his sparse notes; Harry thought he had done a particularly good job on a stick figure with a nose larger than its head. Harry had taken notes diligently at first, but found his mind wandering.

"You may begin."

Harry stared at his match for a long moment before reaching for his wand. He hadn't succeeded the first time around; only Hermione out of all the first year Gryffindors had managed to make any change to her match that first class; and he didn't have high hopes for this time, either.

"No, Mr. Perkins," McGonagall was saying, somewhere behind him. "The wand must be pointed at the object you are attempting to transfigure... unless you are attempting to transfigure your nose?"

Harry exchanged a look with Lupin.

Sirius, still snickering over Perkins' misfortune, managed to turn his match into a neat pile of ash, which he was still trying to sweep under his stack of parchment when McGonagall stopped by their desks.

"Perhaps more focus, Mr. Puddifoot?" McGonagall said acidly, placing another match in front of Sirius.

The class ended with Harry making no progress at all, Sirius firmly on McGonagall's bad side, having gone through a small army of matchsticks, and Lupin attempting to hide his perfect needle, pricking his finger badly, and bleeding all over his notes.

"Homework is chapters one and two, and a two inch summary of each. Class dismissed."

"That woman," Sirius muttered mutinously as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "That woman...."

Lupin, still nursing his injured finger, glared at Sirius.

Harry consulted his schedule, reading the whole thing from top to end, though he had it memorized.

"You should have that framed," Sirius snapped irritably. "Hang it above your bed."

Lupin shoved him. "Lay off him."

Harry looked at the schedule again.

It hadn't changed.

They still had Potions and Defense to go.

Sirius finished his lunch first, shoving his plate away from himself so that a half-full glass of pumpkin juice tipped over and spilled.

He glared at Lupin, daring him to comment.

Lupin diverted a rivulet of hot liquid with a napkin and glared at Sirius.

Harry looked from one to the other warily. He had been counting on Lupin to be the adult, but the full moon's effects apparently included uncontrollable grouchiness. He had been exchanging snipes with Sirius since breakfast.

"Look," Harry said, "I know we're all a bit stressed and --"

"Yes, Patrick," Lupin interrupted, still glaring, "we're all stressed."

Sirius' lip curled into a sneer, which he directed at Harry.

"You leave him alone," Lupin snapped immediately. "He hasn't done anything to you."

Harry looked down at his mostly untouched food and tried to convince himself that the boiled potatoes, carrots, and peas were the most appetizing food he had ever laid eyes on. He pushed a pea around his plate.

"Eat your food," Lupin growled at him. "Food is not a plaything."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, Sirius using the time to stuff sandwiches and crumpets into his pockets, which Lupin fortunately failed to notice.

"First years, stand," said Malfoy from the other end of the Slytherin table. "I will be leading you to your next class."

Harry pushed away his plate, grabbed a berry tart for later, and scrambled over the bench before realizing Sirius hadn't followed suit.

"Are you going to jump at every command that hopped up little git gives?" Sirius hissed. "Who does he think he is?"

Lupin grabbed Sirius under the arm and hauled him up. "Stop it."

Together, they trailed after the Slytherin girls, who were following Malfoy in a neat line.

"There are four Potions classrooms," Malfoy explained as he led them down the dungeon staircase. "Two are off-limits to the younger students. The largest one is where your class will be held. Professor Snape teaches Potions, and I advice you to pay attention, follow all instructions, and spend adequate time studying."

Sirius looked like he could happily shove Malfoy down the rest of the steps.

The heavy door swung open creakily at Malfoy's push, and he herded the first years inside.

"Have quills and parchment ready. Your class after this is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Snape will be your escort."

Sirius frowned. Harry looked at Lupin, trying to wordlessly ask if it might not be best to give Sirius some warning about Defense.

Lupin shook his head.

"We have this every day?" Sirius demanded as they found seats in a back corner; Lupin made no move to lead them to the front of the room this time. "Every bloody day?"

"Shh!" Lupin hissed. "You very well know we do, since James read the schedule this morning. Watch your mouth."

Sirius slouched down in his seat, his chin almost level with the tabletop. He made no move to take anything out of his book bag, which he had kicked under the bench.

"Here," Lupin said, shoving a quill at Sirius. "Don't wreck this one. It's my best spare. You have a quill, James?"

Harry held up his quill and set it carefully down on top of three sheets of parchment.

His stomach was in knots.

Would Snape repeat their first lesson together, singling Harry out for ridicule and impossible questions?

He shook his head. No, of course Snape couldn't do that this time around. It would likely be Sirius, or, Harry thought as he saw the fat little boy shuffle into a corner and look furtively around before slumping down into a seat, poor Noah Perkins, who would bear the brunt of Snape's bad temper.

Snape had still not appeared five minutes later, and Harry relaxed a bit, tuning in to the conversations around him.

"-- our common room is ever so nice," said a girl with two thick braids framing the sides of her face. Her robes marked her as a Ravenclaw. "I haven't seen so many books outside of a library!"

"It's up in a tower, isn't it?" said Wilma Salinger, who was still searching her book bag for a quill. "Ours is not far from here. We have a window that looks right into the middle of the lake!"

"Ooooh!" squealed the other girl. "I heard there are mermaids. Are there? Are they pretty?"

"Pretty?" Wilma frowned at her. "What do you mean? No, they're quite awful."

"I've never seen a real one."

"Neither had I until now, but haven't you seen pictures?"

"Of course, and movies."

Harry's stomach knotted again.

"Movies...?" Wilma suddenly sat up a little straighter. "Are you a... are you Muggleborn?"

"Yes," the other girl said, obliviously. "Mum's a nursery teacher and Pa's been laid off a while. I was down for Burgess Hill -- that's a girls' school and is ever so expensive -- and they were ever so glad I could come to Hogwarts instead."

"Oh," Wilma said. She had paused in her search for a quill, her bag slipping off her knees. "Oh... well... well..." She seemed to shake herself suddenly. "Oh, have you a spare quill to lend me? I just remembered I gave mine to Norah, and the Gryffindors aren't here yet."

The girl with the braids happily produced a quill, along with a blindingly pink photo album with glittery flowers all over the cover, and soon the two had their heads bent over it.

"See, that's my Mum here, with two of my sisters. I have six, and they're ever a pain, you know. Have you any?"

"I haven't. Why don't they move?" Wilma gingerly poked a photograph with the tip of her finger. "How very odd they are."

Harry looked away, only then noticing that Lupin had been following the same conversation with a tense expression on his face.

Harry shrugged.

The Gryffindors arrived just then, shepherded by Ron, and Harry ducked his head, pretending his parchment needed rearranging.

"Over here, Annie, Amelie!" Juliette Tate waved the twins over to where she had set her book bag on the bench next to her.

Ron glared in the Slytherin girl's direction, but the twins ran to join her.

Shaking his head contemptuously, Ron stalked out of the classroom, leaving the rest of the first year Gryffindors to fend for themselves.

"Silence!"

In the momentary confusion of the Gryffindors trying to find empty seats among the other students, no one had seen Snape sweep into the room, his black robes billowing menacingly behind him.

The last Gryffindor, a tall and hefty boy whose name Harry could not recall, fell into a seat, not noticing until too late that it was already occupied.

Snape pinned the boy with a glare. "Mr. Hammond, is it not?"

"Yes, sir," the boy said, looking apologetically at Edwin, the undersized Ravenclaw he had squashed with his greater bulk.

"There is a seat to your left," Snape said, his voice taking on the silky tone that always sent an uncomfortable prickle down Harry's spine. "Kindly sit down and refrain from making any further nuisance of yourself in my class."

That had been mild, for Snape. Still, it didn't bode well. Snape's teaching style had evidently not changed much since the last time Harry had been in his class.

Snape continued up to the front of the room. All eyes were on him. Harry, from the back, had a good view of the other students. Many were already wearing apprehensive expressions.

Suddenly, Snape whirled around, somehow managing to catch every eye in the room at once.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking. I expect that most of you will fail to grasp this subject."

Snape stopped and glared at each of them in turn. When he stopped on Harry, time seemed to stand still.

Then Snape was taking a folded piece of parchment out of an inner pocket of his robes, and Harry could breathe again.

"Stand when your name is called." Snape consulted the parchment. "Cuthbert. Gunther. Zoltan. Vaughn. Titus. Glendower."

Benches scraped against the stone floor as the six Ravenclaws rushed to obey Snape's command.

Snape frowned as his eyes swept the room, taking in the scattered students now standing at the sides of their tables.

"Sit down. Hammond. Isaac. Pembleton and Pembleton."

The Gryffindors stood up. Snape frowned again; the twins had been sitting with Juliette Tate, while the boy and Norah Isaac were on opposite ends of the classroom.

Harry suspected that having the students mixed up bothered Snape; every class Harry had ever attended had the Slytherins and Gryffindors sitting with their own kind unless forced by Snape to pair up with someone from the other house.

"Sit down. August. Lachlan. Perkins. Sutherland."

Noah Perkins squeaked, as seemed to be his habit when called upon, and sent his quill and parchment flying to the floor in his haste to scramble out from behind his table.

Harry's stomach did a flip-flop; for a moment he wasn't sure if his lunch was going to stay down.

Snape stared at Perkins as though at a particularly slimy potions ingredient, but made no comment.

"Sit down. McKenna. Moony. Puddifoot. Salinger. Tate."

Harry stood up, his legs slightly shaky.

"Sit down."

Snape marked the parchment with his quill; the class was so silent that even from the very back of the room they could hear the quill scratching out whatever notes Snape was making.

Finally, Snape looked up. "There will be very little foolish wand-waving here. Keep your wands away from your cauldrons and ingredient preparation area, unless you wish to suffer the consequences."

A number of students shuffled in their seats, putting their wands away into robe pockets and book bags.

"Let us see who did their reading prior to coming to class." Snape ignored the subdued murmur that rose from the students. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry felt sick again.

Snape waited, his black eyes slowly making a round of the room. Most students looked down.

Only one hand was up.

"Isaac."

Norah Isaac stood up. "The Draught of Living Death, sir."

"Correct."

Harry tried not to gasp for breath; he had not even noticed when he had begun holding it.

"Of what use are Jobberknoll feathers?"

Once again, only one hand went up, but this time Snape ignored her.

After what seemed like an eternity, a second hand was raised.

"Puddifoot!" Snape snapped. His eyes flashed dangerously and he took several steps toward the back of the room before catching himself.

Harry's breath choked in his throat. He watched with horror as Sirius took his time standing up, sure that something terrible was about to come out of Sirius' mouth; something that would set Snape upon them for the duration of this class and every class hereafter.

"Truth serum."

Snape stared at Sirius, who stared right back.

"Correct."

Harry dared to relax a little, until he saw that Sirius made no move to sit down.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Is there anything else, Mr. Puddifoot?"

Sirius smiled. "It is also used in memory potions." He paused. "Sir."

With that, Sirius lowered himself back to his seat, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

Harry wished he could sink through the floor.

Lupin's face had turned from pale to beet red.

Snape's glinting black eyes were the most deadly Harry had ever seen them. "Correct again," he said softly, his voice promising terrible things to come. He drew himself up to his full height before continuing. "Name the herbs mentioned in the introductory chapter of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi."

When no hands were raised, Snape flicked his wand, sending a piece of chalk to scratch out an assignment on the board.

"Well?" he demanded. "Why are you not copying that down?"

Harry, as did others, lunged for his quill and parchment to begin copying down the lengthy list of herbs. Only Sirius, a smile still playing around the corners of his mouth, took his time.

The second half of class was spent trying to brew a simple cure for boils; something Harry remembered doing in his first Potions class.

Miraculously, there were no incidents. Snape stalked among the groups working over their cauldrons, but he made no remarks, good or bad, other than a sharp rebuke to prevent Perkins from adding the horned slugs before the nettles to his already hopelessly mishandled potion.

Harry had been separated from Sirius and Lupin, who were working together, and was letting his partner, Hufflepuff Miranda August, do most of the work.

"Why did you do that?" Lupin hissed at Sirius.

"Do what?" Sirius asked innocently. "I answered a question. I was very polite."

Harry joined Lupin in glaring at Sirius.

"McKenna. Do you intend to allow August to complete the assignment singlehandedly?"

Harry started to shake his head, but Snape ignored him.

"Perhaps your grade for this assignment should reflect your contribution to it." Snape paused, his lip curling. "Or rather lack of it."

Harry chose to duck his head and start crushing the snake fangs with great vigor. He especially avoided looking at Sirius. He could only imagine the look that had to be on Sirius' face.

Snape made no further comment, but hovered around their area of the classroom until their potions were done.

"Is he always like that?" Miranda whispered after returning from Snape's desk, where she had deposited a vial of their potion for grading. "Even in private?"

Harry shrugged.

"And you live with him?"

Harry shrugged again. He wasn't up for defending Snape, and he sure wasn't going to say anything against him. Not with Snape in the same room and knowing how keen his hearing was.

Miranda started to clean up their area, giving up her attempt at conversation. Harry, feeling slightly guilty, loaded up their unused ingredients onto a tray and went off to the supply cabinet.

Used to double Potions periods as he was, Harry was surprised to find that class was over. He copied down the homework assignment, put away his quill and notes, and joined Lupin and Sirius, who were standing with a small group of uncertain-looking students.

"Why is he escorting us?" Sirius asked suspiciously, his eyes following Snape's movements at the front of the room.

Snape was transferring their potions to a cabinet behind his desk, which he then spelled shut. He wiped the board clean with another wave of his wand, then set the heavy drapes sliding with a swish across the windows, leaving the dungeon classroom so dark that a worried murmur immediately went up among the students.

"Silence!" Snape commanded. The classroom door swung open, letting in some light from the corridor. "Follow me. Single file."

The students fell into step behind Snape and the silent procession left the dungeons and went up the staircase to the first floor.

Harry's steps were heavy and dragging. He hoped Lupin knew what he was doing. Personally, Harry thought Sirius should have been given enough warning to let the idea of Snape teaching Defense sink in a little.

As if reading his mind, Sirius chose that moment to poke him in the back.

"What's going on, James?"

Harry tried to shrug without turning around.

Fortunately, Sirius didn't persist, and they had arrived at the classroom anyway.

Snape led them in, glaring at the few stragglers.

"Find a seat and take out parchment and quills. Your first assignment is on the board."

Harry looked up, and indeed there was Snape's distinct writing on the board, informing them that they were to list the magical creatures they knew.

Harry looked around for a seat. It seemed that most students had figured out Snape would be teaching the class, because the seats in the front half of the room remained empty.

Not finding a desk, Harry reluctantly headed toward the front. He ended up on the opposite side of the isle from Sirius, who sank into a seat and stared at him and Lupin with a betrayed expression.

Lupin sat down next to Harry and busied himself with the assignment.

Harry gave Sirius an apologetic half-smile.

"As your name is called, add one item under the correct heading," Snape was saying. "If you have nothing to contribute, remain seated. August."

The Hufflepuff girl shuffled out of her seat and up to the board, where she wrote Vampire under the heading of Non-Wizard Part-Human, a sub-category of Being.

"Cuthbert."

Edwin Cuthbert wrote Abominable Snowman under the heading Extremely Dangerous, a sub-category of Beast.

"Incorrect," Snape said, making Edwin jump. "The Abominable Snowman, found in Tibet, has a designation of XXXX, short of the designation of XXXXX required for the Extremely Dangerous classification."

Edwin was unsure about what to do, and Snape, impatiently, moved the Abominable Snowman over to the general Beast category with a flick of his wand.

Gunther added Lethifold, while Hammond added Ghost, and then Lupin, looking very reluctant, wrote Werewolf under Extremely Dangerous.

"Correct," Snape said, inclining his head. "However --" he flicked his wand and the chalk lifted from the board, hovering for a moment in mid-air before coming to rest in the center between the headings of Beast and Being. "It would be negligent not to reflect the fact that werewolves have been shuffled between the Beast and the Being Division numerous times in the last century."

Lupin, his ears red, sat back down.

Harry contributed Boggart, thankfully with no comment from Snape.

Sirius remained sitting when called upon, and Snape moved on to Wilma Salinger, who wrote Sphinx.

"Clearly," Snape sneered, making a show of looking over the list, "most of you did not bother to prepare for this class. For next time, you are to read chapters one though three and make note of six creatures with the designation of XXXX or XXXXX."

Harry added the assignment to his notes.

"Your task today will be to examine and sort parts of magical creatures." Snape flicked his wand and a number of small things floated up off a tray on the desk behind him. "Hair, fur, scales, fangs, and claws will be the main objects you will be dealing with today."

Lupin was looking at Snape like he had lost his mind, prompting Harry to elbow him. "What?"

"It's a sixth year assignment!" Lupin whispered back, indignant. "We haven't a chance to get it right. I helped him plan it for his NEWTs level classes."

Harry suppressed a snort. "You have a chance, anyway."

Lupin looked outraged. "I don't, do I?"

"One member of each pair group is to come to the front to collect your materials," Snape said, cutting off further attempts at conversation.

"I'll go," Harry volunteered.

Sirius, who would be working with a Ravenclaw boy, fell into step next to Harry as they went up to Snape's desk. "Don't mind him. He can't stand having to get things wrong. That's why he's been all put out ever since McGonagall's class."

They got their trays and went back to their partners.

Around them, students were beginning their work. Or, rather, were beginning to moan about the unfairness of it.

"Is that a scale?"

"Are you blind? It's a tongue."

"Tongue? Gross! He didn't say anything about tongues."

Harry set the tray down on the table between himself and Lupin.

Lupin stared at the contents of the tray with an aggrieved expression. He made no move to touch any of the things on it.

"Let's just sort them into obvious groups," Harry suggested. "Claws with claws, teeth with teeth, that sort of thing."

"You go ahead, then."

Lupin stayed silent, only losing his resolve to stay out of it once, when Harry put a slimy bit of skin in with the scales.

"Eyelid." Lupin's hand darted out, snatching the offending piece and moving it to the rather large pile Harry had reserved for things he couldn't identify.

"Ugh," Harry said, wiping his fingers on the hem of his robes.

Snape was moving among the tables, pausing to correct errors and sometimes launching into brief lectures. He stopped at Harry's elbow, watching wordlessly as Harry examined what he thought was a piece of rock and discarded it to the unknown pile. He moved on to the next group without comment.

"Professor," said a girl's voice to the right of Harry, "is there a way to tell hair apart from fur?"

Snape changed direction, coming past Harry and Lupin again and giving Harry, who had been about to place a white, bone-like piece in the claws pile, an annoyed look. Harry quickly dropped it in the pile with the other unknowns, making Lupin groan.

"It's not my fault," Harry whispered crossly. "Do you know what rubbish Defense has been?"

Lupin raised his drooped head and glared at him.

"Except that one year," Harry quickly amended. "But definitely rubbish the rest of the time."

"Very good, Tate," Snape was saying behind them. "You have made more progress than most. The labels are skillfully done. Not something I generally expect from a first year student. Two points to --"

"It was Norah's idea, sir."

Snape paused for a long moment.

"Two points each to Slytherin and Gryffindor. Carry on."

Harry pressed his lips together in case Snape, who was stalking past again, would notice him grinning.

Yes, the mixed-up Houses definitely upset Snape.

Behind Snape's back, Sirius leaned across the isle.

"Did he just give points to Gryffindor?" he asked incredulously. He plucked a squishy, greenish blob out of Harry's hand and dropped it next to a petrified egg. "Well, carry on." Chortling, he returned to his own work.

Looking a bit green himself, Lupin moved the blob to the pile of unknowns.

"Not covered until fourth year," he told Harry balefully.

Harry examined what they had left. Apart from another fang he had overlooked, he hadn't a clue what the rest of the things might be. He moved the fang over to the others and pushed everything else over to the unknowns.

Lupin sighed glumly.

Harry looked at him. He couldn't suppress a grin this time. "Oh, go on, just move one. It'll make you feel better."

Lupin carefully selected a shiny azure pebble and moved it next to the scales.

"Feel better?" Harry asked.

"No," Lupin said shortly.

Snape stopped at the front of the room. Though he had said nothing, almost every pair of eyes in the room was instantly on him, waiting for instructions.

"Write your names on a parchment one foot in length. Leave it on the tray. Bring your trays up to my desk," Snape said. "You will have a chance to work with these specimens further throughout the year."

Harry wrote out his name and passed the parchment to Lupin. "That wasn't so bad. It was like something you would do, really."

Lupin gave him another reproachful look. "That might be because it's my lesson, James."

"Oh," Harry said. He took the parchment from Lupin and placed it on the tray. "Well... I'll just bring this up."

He set the tray on Snape's desk, glancing at the others while he was there. Most of the students hadn't done either better or worse than he had, which momentarily made him feel better, until he remembered that he was supposed to be a sixth year student while they had only arrived at Hogwarts the previous day.

He shook his head. Defense had definitely been rubbish. He wasn't sure how Snape could do much worse.

"That was terribly hard," said Miranda August. "I hope it won't be graded."

"It was fascinating," said the girl with the two braids. "I just love magic! Are there really pixies and fairies? Real ones?"

Harry tried not to snort, recalling his second year Defense class and the awful pixies Lockhart had unleashed on them. He dared her to find those things fascinating.

"Class is dismissed. Do not forget your assignment. Written work will count for one quarter of your grade in this class."

Harry collected his things and joined Sirius and Lupin in the crunch to get out into the corridor. A bottleneck had formed at the door.

"Two hours before dinner," Harry said as they shuffled their way toward the exit. "Do you want to go out?"

Slightly rumpled, they veered off from the rest of the students and took a shortcut down a narrow, portrait-lined corridor.

"I'm not sure I should be speaking to you two," Sirius said peevishly. "A bit of warning would have been good."

"So you could keep James up all night, ranting and railing against another perceived injustice?"

Sirius made a face.

"It wasn't so bad," Harry repeated. "He hardly breathed down anyone's neck."

"Yeah..." Sirius stopped suddenly, causing Lupin to run into him. "And he gave points to Gryffindor. That had to leave a foul taste in the git's mouth."

"You heard the same thing we did," Lupin said. "Slytherin would have got the points if Juliette hadn't spoken up."

"No one made him do it," Harry said. He winced, hearing the defensive tone of his voice.

Sirius stared at him like he had just sprouted two extra heads.

"You're right, James," Lupin said. "I guess no one did."

"We have a Professor Snape fan, Milo," Sirius said, his tone mocking. "Well, well. Start a club, why don't you."

Lupin shoved him.

There was a clatter and Sirius rubbed his shoulder, which had collided with a pedestal upon which sat a display of small statuettes with evil, twisted faces and too many limbs.

"You broke it," he told Lupin reproachfully. "Those were rare and expensive, I bet."

Lupin swallowed. He took out his wand, looking at the broken statuette uncertainly.

"Oh, this will be good," Sirius said, giving Harry a playful slap on the back. "Milo Moony will now impress us with his superior grasp of magic theory by way of an expertly cast Reparo."

Harry thought Sirius' teasing had a cruel undertone, and didn't smile.

Lupin pointed his wand at the pieces on the floor. "Reparo!"

Nothing happened.

Nothing, except a wheezy, horribly familiar voice behind them.

"Well, well, well, we are in trouble."

Filch, the caretaker, was limping toward them, his hands claw-like in front of him.

"Magic in the corridors. Destroying valuable school property."

"It was an accident," Harry said, knowing full well it was useless to try to argue with Filch. "We were trying to fix it."

"A likely story!" Filch huffed. "Slytherins, are you?"

Harry nodded, swallowing hard. Lupin shrank back, his wand still in his hand, but dangling limply at his side. Sirius was trying to look defiant, but Harry was pleased he wasn't succeeding very well. Last thing they needed was for Sirius to open his big mouth.

"Off to Professor Snape with you, then," Filch said. His eyes glinted. He was clearly enjoying himself; Harry suspected they were the first students he had caught at mischief so far. "Yes, off to Professor Snape."

Filch led them back the way they came. Snape was still in the Defense classroom, putting away the trays. Each one now had a shimmering, translucent cover over them, looking a bit like Muggle cellophane.

Snape looked up and saw them. He stared at them for several moments, before setting the last tray down on the desk with a bang.

"What have they done?"

Filch shoved Lupin forward. "Magic in the corridors, Professor Snape. Destroying school property. Dueling, quite likely."

"We were not!" Harry cried indignantly. "We accidentally --"

"Silence!"

Harry's mouth went dry, and he had to swallow several times.

"I will deal with them, Mr. Filch. Thank you."

Filch looked rather unhappy at being dismissed before seeing just punishment being dealt out, but he gave the three of them a nasty look and shuffled out of the classroom.

Snape waited until he had been gone a minute or so before flicking his wand to slam the door shut.

"Can you not get through one day without attracting disaster of one sort of another?"

He had rounded on Harry, which Harry thought was most unfair.

"James didn't do anything!" Sirius said, glaring at Snape. "It was me and Milo."

Snape's flashing black eyes turned on the miserable-looking Lupin.

"It's true," Lupin said. "I did it, really. James had nothing to do with it."

Snape regarded them with a disgusted expression, not saying anything. After an eternity of this, Harry's skin felt itchy all over, like it had grown too tight.

"Detention," Snape said finally. "Tonight, my office, promptly at seven. Until then, you are to do your assignments either in your room or the library."

Harry, almost relieved, echoed Lupin's quiet, "Yes, sir."

Sirius glared, but stayed quiet.

"I have another class, so if you are quite done wasting my time...?"

Lupin pulled Harry and Sirius into the empty hallway, and they made their way up to the library in complete silence.

The library was empty. They found a table at the very back.

"I hate that git," Sirius said, propping his head up on one hand. "I really do, you know."

For a while, none of them said anything.

Then, Lupin went off to find copies of their Transfiguration, Potions, History, and Defense textbooks, while Harry started sorting through their collective pile of notes, and Sirius emptied his pockets of various food items and proceeded to inhale the lot of them like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"This is the library," Lupin snapped as he walked back to the table, his arms full of books. "You can't eat in here."

Sirius ignored him. He swept crumbs to the floor, making more room for Harry to spread out their notes.

Between Harry and Lupin their History notes were decent, making up for Sirius' ink-blotched ones, but Lupin's Transfiguration notes were hopelessly bloodstained and Sirius hadn't bothered to do much more than doodle all over his parchment. Transfiguration had never been Harry's best class, and his notes plainly showed it.

"Did you even take notes in Potions?" Harry asked Sirius.

"Nope," Sirius said blithely. "Why would I, when I'm best friends with the git's biggest fan? No, no, Milo, don't you dare shove me. You know how well that worked out the last time."

Lupin dropped the books on the table and glared at Sirius over the top of the stack. "I told you to leave him alone, Patrick."

They glared at each other for such a long time that Harry managed to think up, and reject, half a dozen ways of changing the subject.

Finally, Sirius looked away. "I was just making fun, James. Don't mind it."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He was finding it hard to tell what Sirius meant and what he didn't. This new side to Sirius and Lupin was impossible to figure out. He kept wondering if they were like this during their school years; teasing and fighting and taking offense one moment and best friends the next. The few glimpses he'd had of them in Snape's memories the previous year hadn't given him much to go on, and they had been years older in those memories, besides.

The silence stretched again.

"Do you have your Defense notes?" Harry finally asked. "I don't see them here."

"Didn't take any," Sirius said. "Same git, you know?"

"All right," Harry said quickly, afraid Lupin and Sirius would get into it again. "We have History and I suppose you both know enough about Transfiguration to get us through that without notes. My Potions notes are good and Milo knows everything to do with Defense. Let's just get everything done, since we won't have time this evening."

Sirius huffed. "I can't believe we need to do homework. Can't they let us off?"

Neither Harry nor Lupin answered him. It was useless to argue about things that couldn't and wouldn't be changed.

"Right, well," Harry said, "we have one chapter of History. I wrote, 'Read introductory chapter, highlight stuff from lecture.' That sounds easy enough."

Lupin frowned.

"What? Isn't that what you have?"

"I wrote, 'Read introductory chapter, highlighting all information covered in Professor Spinnet's lecture. Books and notes to be checked at start of class.'"

Harry stared at him. "That's... exactly what I just said."

Sirius snorted.

"Yes, well," Lupin said, shuffling his notes and checking that the pages were in the correct order, "it doesn't hurt to be precise. Besides, how do you intend to highlight anything without having our own books?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. "I guess we'll do that one before bed. It's only one chapter."

"Yes, and Patrick will have to copy out our notes, as well."

"What?" Sirius demanded. "Why?"

"Books and notes to be checked at start of class," Lupin said. Harry thought he looked just a bit smug to have definitive proof of the superiority of his notes.

"That will take forever!"

"Then you shouldn't have snapped my quill, now, should you have?" Lupin took the History book from the stack and set it aside. "What do we have for Transfiguration? My notes are useless."

"Two inch summaries of chapters one and two."

"Are you sure it's not two feet? Two inch summaries from McGonagall?"

Harry frowned at his notes. It definitely said two inches. "Well, it does make four in all. Do you have anything, Paddy?"

Sirius shook his head. "Sorry. I thought we'd use Milo's notes and then he went and bled all over them. How was I supposed to know he was going to do that?"

"I didn't do it on purpose, you prat."

"I didn't snap your quill on purpose, you git."

Harry was feeling the beginnings of a headache. "About those two inch summaries...."

Sirius took the Transfiguration book from the top of the stack. "I'll do it and you two can copy."

"Then we'll all have the same thing," Harry said. "It's McGonagall. You can't sneak that past her."

"Well," Sirius said, huffing again, "what's the point of even doing homework together, then? Transfiguration is my best subject, Defense is Milo's, and you..." He paused, peering at Harry. "What are you good for?"

Harry, offended in spite of himself, felt his cheeks warming.

"Let him alone," Lupin said. "He did fine. Didn't you, James?"

"Oh, sure," Harry said vindictively. "Once we take Divination our third year, I'll show you all my best tricks."

It took a few moments for Sirius to comprehend. His mouth fell ajar.

Lupin glared at Harry.

"Right," Harry said lamely. "About those two inch summaries...."

They ended up each doing his own work, in silence.

"I have, 'Introductory chapter, take notes on herbs from board,' for Potions," Harry said. "I have the herbs copied down." He looked the list over. "That's a lot."

"None of us are strong in Potions," Lupin said. "We should all do the reading."

"I won't do the reading," Sirius said, managing a polite and rebellious tone all at the same time, "but I will go through the chapter and find the plants we need to do."

"Very good," Lupin said. "James and I can share the book, then. It's easier, anyway, than all three of us sharing."

They seemed to all be trying very hard to say nothing else offensive. Harry felt slightly suffocated.

Harry got half-way through the list of herbs before he stopped, shaking out his cramped wrist. "Where's sage?"

"Page nine," Sirius said.

Harry forced himself to return to writing.

"Leaping toadstool?" Lupin asked.

"Page twelve."

Harry's hand was aching horribly by the time he wrote up the last herb. Lupin was two behind him.

"Mallowsweet?"

"Page fourteen, last paragraph."

Harry blew on his parchment to make the ink dry faster.

"There's a spell for that," Lupin said absently.

"How... useful," Sirius said. His lip curled. "Maybe by our third or fourth year we might even be able to take advantage of it."

The two of them glared at each other.

Harry, not sure at all if he was glad their period of uncomfortable politeness had come to an end, pretended to be very busy rolling up his parchment.

"I'm finished," Lupin said. He laid his parchment to dry at the other end of the table. "My hand is killing me. We still have Defense to do."

"Six magical creatures, XXXX or XXXXX," Harry said, not bothering with his notes. "Not that much."

Lupin frowned. "Should we each do different ones?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Why," he demanded of the vaulted ceiling above their heads, "must everyone insist on doing things the hard way?"

Harry, who ended up writing about Boggarts (XXXX), Dragons (XXXXX), Erumpents (XXXX), Graphorns (XXXX), and Kappas (XXXX), was about to write Basilisk as the heading of his last paragraph, when Lupin snatched the quill out of his hand.

"What?" Harry demanded. He eyed the trail of ink splatters now covering the lower end of his parchment. "I'm not copying this over, you know."

"You can't write Basilisk!" Lupin said, looking at him like Harry had suggested taking a bath in the middle of the Great Hall during dinner. "Bad enough you wrote Dragons and Boggarts. Don't you write Dementors, either. It looks suspicious."

"How...?" Harry started, but he was tired and didn't feel like arguing. "Fine, I'll choose something else. I have four XXXXs and only one XXXXX. What do you have that's XXXXX?"

Sirius looked down at his parchment. "I only have two. Lethifold and Living Shroud --"

"That's the same thing, you dolt!" Lupin exclaimed. "For Merlin's sake. Did you even read the book?"

"No," Sirius said, looking very insulted.

"I have Manticore, Inferius, and Quintaped, but you'd better find your own," Lupin told Harry, still giving Sirius the evil eye.

"Thanks," Harry said.

He was so miffed that he wrote up Werewolves (XXXXX), though he was careful not to let Lupin see.

Sirius, who did see, winked at him.

"That's it, I'm done," Lupin announced. "Did you fix yours, Patrick?"

"Fix it?" Sirius asked innocently. "What was there to fix?"

Lupin drew in a long, frustrated breath.

"I'm done, too," Harry said, just to say something. He had rolled up his parchment several minutes earlier, and had been resting his hand on the cool surface of the table. "What's next?"

They checked the clock above the librarian's desk.

Then they looked at each other for a long moment.

"Right," Harry said finally, sighing. "Dinner and detention."

Harry sneezed for the hundredth time.

He was working on a basket of Jobberknoll feathers, taking one at a time and stripping the vane from the shaft with a small knife. The bare shafts he tied up with string into bundles of twelve, while the fluff he stuffed the best he could into a cloth sack. Most of it, though, seemed to be floating in the air around him.

Snape hadn't bothered to supervise their detention. Lupin, Harry suspected, had been put to work on lesson plans for Defense. Sirius was scrubbing the desks in another classroom... or should have been.

He couldn't hear anything resembling the sound of desks being scrubbed. Most likely Sirius was being difficult again, and Snape would make their lives miserable when he came to let them off for the night.

It had been a while since Harry had been by himself, alone with his own thoughts.

His thoughts took off down some odd paths.

There was something wrong with Lupin and Sirius, he decided. He didn't want to allow that to be his conclusion, but once the thought took root in his mind, he couldn't seem to expel it.

It had been one thing to see Sirius acting a fraction of his real age; Harry had accepted Lupin's explanation that the long, solitary years in Azkaban had left Sirius predisposed to regressing to long-outgrown behaviors when suddenly given the opportunity. It had made sense, then.

But now Lupin was showing the same signs. The ability to reason like an adult seemed to come and go with him.

Harry sneezed, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and reached for another feather.

He was tempted to take Sirius' word for it that Lupin was just upset over their magical setback and being forced to get answers wrong in every class when he likely was qualified to teach most of them.

Whatever was going on, he wanted both of them to return to their senses and start acting like the adults they were. It wasn't until he was surrounded by peace and silence that he realized how exhausting their fighting was.

Since he couldn't do much else, Harry resolved to keep a close eye on both of them, and to speak with Lupin when a chance to do so without Sirius presented itself.

It was nearly nine, when all students were to be in their common rooms and the lower years in their dorms, though Harry couldn't recall that part of the rule ever being enforced.

His nose itched fiercely. He knew he had feathers in his hair, and his mouth felt like he had quite a few of them stuck to the roof of it. He was more than ready for Snape to come back, even if Sirius was probably going to get them another detention.

"Come on James, Pa--" Lupin, who had come through a door Harry had assumed was another storage cabinet, stopped short and looked around the room. "Where's Patrick?"

"In there," Harry said, pointing at the door that connected the two classrooms. "Professor Snape told him to scrub desks."

"And he's actually doing it?" Lupin asked, tilting his head to one side with a frown.

"I doubt it. I haven't heard anything."

Lupin marched to the door and flung it open.

"It's about time," Sirius' agitated voice said before Lupin could even open his mouth. "I was about to start cleaning, I was so bored."

"Why are you just sitting there?" Lupin demanded. "You could have been helping James, if you weren't going to do what Professor Snape told you."

Sirius appeared in the doorway, eyes narrowed and flashing. "For your information, the git locked me in here and put up a silencing charm."

Lupin gave Sirius a suspicious look. "This door wasn't locked."

"Not from your side, apparently," Sirius said. His expression was steadily growing more angry. "Are you calling me a liar, Milo?"

Lupin hesitated for an almost imperceptible moment, then shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just glad you didn't get in any more trouble."

"If you will recall," Sirius said, his voice lower and even more dangerous, "you are the one who got us in trouble."

Lupin flushed.

"We're supposed to be back in our room, aren't we?" Harry said quickly. "I'm done here, I think, except all this fluff keeps getting away from me."

Lupin turned his attention to Harry, and soon was helping him clean his messy work area. Sirius watched from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

"That will have to do," Lupin said. "Nothing short of a good cleaning spell will get rid of all the small bits. You two go on back to our room. I need to get a headache potion from Professor Snape and then I'll be right with you."

"Don't you want us to wait?" Harry asked. "Or we could walk with you."

"No, thank you," Lupin said. "It's best if you go on. He's in a mood."

He gave Harry a meaningful look, his eyes darting in Sirius' direction to indicate that Snape wasn't the only one, and it was best to keep them from running into each other.

"Oh, all right. Come on, Paddy. I'm falling asleep on my feet."

Actually, he wasn't stretching the truth by much. His back ached from sitting on the hard bench and bending over the feathers, and he couldn't think of many things he'd like better than to take a hot shower and climb into bed.

Well, not many things that were possible, anyway.

As they walked down the dimly lit corridor toward Snape's quarters, Harry sneaked a look at Sirius.

Aside from still looking ruffled, he didn't look any different to Harry.

Maybe he was imagining things.

Sirius had been thrust into a very odd, very challenging situation. They all had been. He had seemed unbalanced and irrational from the moment Harry had laid eyes on him, Snape dragging and shoving him down the dungeon corridor. In fact, that was still true if Harry thought back to the real first time he had laid eyes on Sirius, in the Shrieking Shack in his third year.

Maybe there was nothing to it.

Maybe he was asking too much of Sirius.

Maybe Lupin was right, and the Sirius Harry had got to know in the lull between his escape from Hogwarts and his death at the Ministry had been the true act, and what Harry was seeing now was just the real Sirius, no longer pretending to have himself together for the sake of other people's ease of mind.

"Stop staring at me before you walk into a wall," Sirius groused at him. "I can see Milo and the greasy git managed to convince you I'm out to end all our lives, but --"

"That isn't true," Harry said quickly. "That isn't what I think at all."

Sirius seemed to calm down a bit, after that.

"Don't you still have History to do?" Harry asked, yawning. He was glad it wasn't him. He didn't think he could manage to write even one more word.

"No. Took your notes to detention," Sirius said, taking a badly crumpled wad of parchment out of his pocket. "I'll get the book done in the morning."

Harry accepted the parchment from Sirius. He decided not to say anything, figuring the notes would probably be all right if he piled all his textbooks on top of them for the night.

They agreed that Sirius would shower first.

Harry sat down on his bed, bouncing a little.

His eyes happened to wander over to the panel that hid the secret cupboard, and he remembered how Sirius had emptied his pockets, not letting Harry see what it was he had. Now, with Sirius and Lupin out of the room, was a good chance for Harry to see.

It was, he convinced himself, all part of making sure there was absolutely nothing to his suspicion that something was going wrong, somehow, with Sirius and Lupin.

The first thing he saw when he opened the panel was his own carton of things. It had been pulled to the front, used to hide a number of lumpy packages wrapped in what looked like dinner napkins.

He reached for one and it came unraveled, spilling hardened bread, dinner rolls, and stale biscuits.

He must have sat there, staring, for a very long time, because the door opened and Sirius walked in, hair still damp and already in his nightclothes.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Nothing -- uh..." Harry's eyes landed on an envelope sticking out of his carton. "I just remembered I never read Hermione's letters."

"Oh," Sirius said. He stared at Harry for a few moments. "Do you want me to leave? I can sit in the front room."

"No. I wasn't going to read them, really. I'm too tired for it tonight."

In fact, he had put it off for so long because he wasn't sure when he would ever have time for such a draining task. Ron's letter had been terribly hard to read, knowing that shortly thereafter Ron and his family would have got the news of Harry's death.

When he looked up, realizing he had been looking at the wall in front of him for an unknown period of time, Sirius was staring at him again.

"Sorry..." Harry began, "I just...."

"Today was hard, wasn't it?" Sirius said quietly. "We saw Ron and Hermione, and a few of your other friends. Was Spinnet at school with you? She looks young enough."

"Quidditch," Harry said, his throat closing suddenly, so that he was only able to get out that one word.

"It must be strange to see her teaching a class."

Harry nodded.

"I admit it's strange to be back," Sirius said, the corners of his mouth twitching downward before he seemed to catch himself. "Not altogether bad, but strange."

Harry nodded again.

"Some things haven't changed at all," Sirius said after a short pause. His brows were furrowed and he was still watching Harry closely. "McGonagall is just the same. One minute around her and I feel like a first year."

In spite of himself, Harry laughed. "She must have the same speech she uses every year. She said the same thing to you that she said to me and Ron our first year."

This was the old Sirius. Harry felt his earlier worries melt away into nothing. Nothing was wrong. The last few days had simply taken their toll and made everyone's tempers quick.

"Oh?"

"We came in late," Harry said. "We were... well, it doesn't matter. She tore into us the moment we walked in."

"She is not to be crossed," Sirius said, nodding. He grimaced. "Especially now that she's Headmistress."

"I know it," Harry said. He didn't feel he was the one who needed to remember to behave. So far, he had managed it. "But I'm glad it's her and not someone else."

"That woman, last year..." Sirius frowned again, looking like he couldn't quite think of something that should have been obvious. "I can't recall her name now."

"Umbridge," Harry supplied, with a grimace of his own. "She was awful. I still have --" He cut himself off abruptly. He wasn't going to get Sirius riled up again, just when they were having a rare rational conversation.

"Yes," Sirius said. "Must be. You must have told me about her."

Harry blinked at Sirius, momentarily thrown. But he couldn't remember just what he had told Sirius about Umbridge, after all. All the more reason not to tell him about the detentions and the scars.

"I must have," he agreed. "She's the one who sent the Dementors after me, too."

Sirius looked blank for a few seconds, before his face paled slightly. "Dementors. I remember."

They were silent for a long time.

Finally, Harry stood up off the cold floor and started to close the cupboard door. He saw the stale bread and biscuits on the floor, and the other lumpy bundles stacked in the corner, and bit his lip.

"Paddy?"

"What?"

"It's just... well, I used to hide food when I lived with the Dursleys." He checked Sirius' reaction, but Sirius didn't react all. "I used to hide things under a loose floorboard."

"Why?"

"Because," Harry said, slightly defensively, "they didn't always feed me at regular times, that's why."

Sirius continued to look at him with only the hint of a frown.

"So," Harry pushed on, "is that why you're hiding food? Does this room remind you of Azkaban?"

"Azkaban," Sirius repeated. He looked around the bedroom slowly, taking in the beds, trunks, walls, bookshelf, and rug before looking at Harry again. "Azkaban was... cold."

"It's chilly here," Harry pointed out. In fact, he was starting to feel a chill of a different sort.

"Yes," Sirius agreed.

"The food's going to spoil," Harry said. "It's stale already. We can't do a spell to keep it fresh."

"Throw it out, then."

"You don't mind?"

Sirius shook his head. He looked past Harry at the still open cupboard. "Are you sure I was the one who put food in there?"

Just like that, Harry's brief respite from worry came to a gut-wrenching end.

"I... I'm pretty sure, but I can ask Milo."

"I'm going to bed, then, unless you want to talk some more."

"No, that's all right. I still need to shower, anyway."

Harry watched as Sirius climbed into bed, reached into a night table drawer, and took out the bottle of Dreamless Sleep.

"Good night, Paddy."

"Night, James."

Harry started backing toward the door, for some reason unable to turn around until he saw Sirius take a swallow of the potion.

A few minutes later, under the hot spray of the shower, Harry's thoughts were whirling madly.

He recalled another time he and Sirius had been able to talk alone. He had mentioned Umbridge and Unforgivables in the same sentence.

Sirius -- quick-thinking, quick-to-anger Sirius -- had instantly demanded the whole story.

Had Sirius really forgotten?

The moment he was dressed again, Harry ran back to the bedroom, threw open his trunk -- the potion meant that Sirius was out for the night, so there was so need to be quiet for his sake -- and found his still unopened Potions kit. He took out two glass vials.

Pouring a few drops from Sirius' bottle of Dreamless Sleep into one vial and some from his own bottle into the other, he ran back to the bathroom to examine them under the brighter lights.

In his haste he hadn't labeled them, so he quickly lost track of which one was which, but one thing was clear.

Whatever Snape had given Sirius, Dreamless Sleep wasn't all that was in that bottle.

"What are you doing?"

Harry whirled around.

Lupin, holding a steaming goblet, was standing in the doorway. Harry, of course, had neglected something as basic as shutting the door.

"Look at this!" Harry held out the two vials to Lupin before realizing Lupin couldn't take them with his hands already occupied.

"What am I looking at? I hope you haven't been brewing anything. Or taking things from Professor's Snape's cabinets."

Harry sputtered, outraged. "It's Dreamless Sleep. Professor Snape gave one bottle to me and one to Paddy, but look! They aren't the same."

Lupin peered at the potions. He didn't look particularly interested. "I don't see anything to get excited about. One's a bit more dilute, I think. Maybe he didn't think you needed the full strength."

Harry felt himself deflating. He hadn't thought of any rational explanations, but now that Lupin presented one, he felt a bit silly for panicking.

"Maybe," he said. "But Paddy is acting so strange...."

Lupin shrugged. "First day. I can't say it was easy for me, either."

Harry eyed the potion Lupin was sipping.

"For my headache," Lupin said, holding up the goblet as if in toast. "Would you care to check for poison, James?"

"I didn't say anything about poison," Harry said, huffing. "I just think both of you are acting very odd."

"Me?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm acting odd?"

"Yes!"

Lupin stared at him. For a moment, Harry was sure Lupin was going to laugh. But Lupin appeared to be giving it some serious consideration.

"I lost my temper a few times today, over things that didn't much matter in the scheme of things. Is that what you mean?"

"I suppose," Harry admitted grudgingly. "All day it was like watching a pair of first years."

"Hmm," said Lupin. He drank the rest of his potion and set the goblet down next to the sink. "I do apologize if it distressed you."

"It didn't distress me."

"It confused you?"

Harry shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what got into me at certain moments, but I assure you I'm not slowly losing my mind. If we did act juvenile, I can only think that's a good thing. It will help us blend in."

Harry said nothing.

"I'm not being poisoned, and neither is Patrick."

Harry shrugged again. "You're not what I expected."

Lupin nodded. "People can surprise you by how they act in unusual or stressful situations. I suspect that's all it is."

"I just..." Harry felt a throb of anger, and finally realized why he was upset with Lupin. "I expected you to help with Paddy! And you're making him worse!"

"Hardly," Lupin said. "You can't deny we got through today with barely any incidents. The more he feels at home as a student, the less likely he will be to seek a way out." Lupin softened his tone slightly. "I understand you're concerned, but all's well as long as he isn't trying to leave. Patrick was in trouble day in and day out when we were at Hogwarts, and so were the rest of us by association. That isn't likely to change."

"He can't remember things," Harry persisted. "He didn't remember Umbridge. He wasn't bothered when I mentioned Dementors and Azkaban."

"You don't think that's a good thing?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow. "It could be an effect of Dreamless Sleep. Fewer nightmares; fewer reminders to dwell on."

"He didn't remember hoarding food! There's a whole lot of it in the cupboard and I know he put it there."

Lupin frowned. "That's an unfortunate habit that may be hard to break. I'll speak with him."

"You don't get it! He doesn't remember doing it!"

"Perhaps he doesn't remember. Such things can be so ingrained they're done without much thought."

Harry huffed in frustration.

"Look," Lupin said. "Either there's a perfect rational explanation, or there's yours, which is what, exactly? Professor Snape is secretly feeding him some mad concoction designed to turn him into a model Slytherin student?"

"Sadly that is beyond my skill," Snape said dryly from behind Lupin, making both of them nearly leap out of their skins. "Would you mind holding this fascinating discussion somewhere else? I would like to be in bed sometime before midnight."

Lupin reddened to the roots of his hair. "Sorry, Professor."

Harry lowered his eyes to the floor and kept them there until he had shuffled past Snape and was safely in bed.

"Take your potion," Lupin said, sounding irate. "Unless you're now going to convince yourself you are the one being poisoned?"

Harry gulped down a dose of Dreamless Sleep. "I never said anything about poison, Milo."

"Go to sleep."

Harry pulled up the covers nearly over his head.

The potion worked almost instantly.

The next morning, Harry woke up to a note telling him Lupin was getting up early so he could help Snape, and for Harry to look after Sirius, and to behave, and to go down to breakfast without him.

"Did he say if he was coming to breakfast at all?" Sirius asked as they sat down and helped themselves to food. "Maybe he has another headache."

"He didn't say," Harry told him. He had crumpled the note and burned it in Snape's fireplace; he didn't think Sirius would have liked being nagged first thing in the morning.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Harry was going over their class schedule again in his head.

"I forgot they were here," Sirius said, pointing with his fork at a table set up in the corner of the Great Hall, near where the staff sat.

Harry turned to look. He saw a number of adults and very young children, and he remembered seeing them before, when Snape had first brought him to Hogwarts.

"I thought maybe they'd gone home," Harry said. "Do you think all those people are still in the hospital wing, too?"

Sirius shrugged.

Harry frowned as another thing occurred to him. "How come all the first years had to be sorted again?"

"Huh?" Sirius said, his mouth full of baked beans and egg.

"I mean, at least some of them must have been here when Dumbledore opened the school before."

Sirius looked at him blankly.

"I didn't make it to the Welcoming Feast, so I suppose I wouldn't know," Harry said, still thinking it over. "Odd, though."

"What's odd?" asked Lupin a little breathlessly, sitting down next to him.

"You all right?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Still not used to all these stairs," Lupin said, grimacing. "Now, what's odd?"

"I was just saying it's odd all the first years had to be sorted again," Harry said.

"Again?" Lupin said, frowning. "Why again?"

"Because Hogwarts was open before, wasn't it? Not everyone came back, but you'd think there were some first years."

"Milo? Milo, what's wrong?" Sirius asked, looking alarmed. He started to get up.

Lupin looked like he was about to sick up. Harry actually saw a green tint spread over his face.

"Don't," Lupin said, shaking his head vehemently. "I just need a moment."

Lupin hid behind a tall glass of pumpkin juice, though Harry didn't see him actually drink any.

"Are you sure those potions are helping?" Sirius asked, reluctantly sitting down again. "What is that git good for if not potions?"

Harry watched Lupin carefully through the rest of breakfast. Lupin gradually regained his normal color, but still looked rather miserable.

To make things worse, the lack of conversation was having a bad effect on Sirius, who looked even more moody and sullen by the time they were heading to History.

"Go on, James," Sirius said when they reached the door and Malfoy had left without waiting to see them go inside. "I need to talk to Milo."

Harry frowned, but went into the classroom and found seats in the very back for the three of them.

Class was about to start. Sirius and Lupin still weren't inside.

Harry started to crane his neck to make sure they were still just outside the door.

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Professor Spinnet," chorused everyone except Harry, who had almost been bumped off the edge of his seat by Sirius' sudden arrival.

Harry regained his balance and turned to glare at Sirius, but faltered when he saw that both Sirius and Lupin now wore the same sickly look Lupin had at breakfast.

Harry started to ask what was wrong, but didn't get the chance.

"We shall wait until we have everyone's attention," Professor Spinnet said in a very irritated tone. "Perhaps Mr. McKenna has something to share with the class before we begin?"

Harry felt his face heat up, and sat up straight in his seat. "Sorry, Professor."

"I will not tolerate inattention in this class," Professor Spinnet continued. "This class is not merely concerned with the ancient origins of Magic and distant events in the wizarding world's past. It is the study of our shared heritage as witches and wizards, and the study of recent events as well."

There was absolute silence. She had everyone's attention.

"We all lived through a war, which will become part of history. Children a thousand years from now will be studying events that we experienced first hand, perhaps with the same lack of attention and care as some of you may have toward Goblin uprisings."

Everyone jumped as she brought her hand down on the podium with a loud bang.

"I will not allow the bravery of our war heroes to be forgotten," Spinnet said in an angry, low voice that nonetheless echoed in the silent room. "As long as I am teaching History at this school, their sacrifices will be known to every student."

Harry heard a soft sniffle over on his left; students were beginning to cry.

"I lost friends in this war," Spinnet went on mercilessly. "Some of you I know lost friends, too, as well as parents, uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters, cousins, grandparents..."

Harry swallowed, realizing with a painful pang that he himself was part of that list.

"Those who forget are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past!" Spinnet finished. "And I am here to prevent that from happening... so take out your notes from last class and find a partner to switch with!"

For a few moments no one moved.

Then, almost as one, they reached for their book bags.

"Dismissed, Mr. Perkins. Take yourself to the nurse."

Harry was sitting only two seats away from Noah Perkins, and looked over to see what was happening.

Perkins, eyes glassy and staring straight ahead, seeming completely unaware of Professor Spinnet standing in front of his desk, was rocking back and forth, arms around himself.

"Mr. McKenna!"

Harry jumped.

"Mind your own business, if you please. Miranda, take him to the nurse and return to class just as quick as you can."

Though Harry ducked his head, he couldn't stop himself from frowning.

Sirius poked him. "That was something else."

"Let's not tell Professor Snape," Harry said, a bit shakily but trying valiantly to make light of what had just happened.

"What?"

"He thinks he's the meanest teacher at Hogwarts, you know. He might take it up as a challenge if he hears someone else made a whole class cry."

Sirius gave him a slightly reproachful look. "Don't make jokes about that greasy git around me, James. It isn't playing fair. You know if I did it the two of you would grouse at me."

Harry looked over at Lupin, but Lupin was digging through his book bag with a very dark expression on his face.

"Has everyone got notes that aren't their own?" Spinnet demanded a few moments later.

"Yes, Professor Spinnet," chorused the class in a gloomy monotone. Some of the students were still sniffling and rubbing their eyes, and at least one voice among the many had a nasty case of hiccups.

Lupin had ended up with Harry's notes, and Harry with Sirius'.

Harry looked down at his own notes, except in Sirius' handwriting, and resisted giving Sirius a glare for not even bothering to hide the fact that he'd copied.

"What happened to your notes, James?" Lupin asked, trying to smooth the parchment out.

Harry, in the excitement of the previous evening, had forgotten to put his crumbled notes under some books.

This time he did glare at Sirius, who raised an eyebrow innocently.

"Smushed in my bag," Harry said shortly.

"Silence!" called Professor Spinnet from the front of the room. "You would not want to distract your friends while they grade your work. Pick up your quills. You will place a check mark next to each item I call out, if you are able to find it in your partner's notes. We will begin with a simple one -- the date Hogwarts was founded and the names of the four founders. You have one minute."

Harry didn't have to do much to find the relevant line in Sirius' notes. He placed a check mark in the margin and waited for further instructions.

"Next, the date of the Salem witch trials."

Harry, to his consternation, found two mentions of the Salem witch trials, but no date.

Sirius glared at him when he realized Harry had put his quill down without making a mark. "Last time I ask for your notes," he muttered under his breath.

Professor Spinnet asked for a few more dates and names before collecting their notes for formal grading.

"Open your books. You were to read the introductory chapter and highlight what was covered during our first lesson together." She waited a few moments until all books were open. "You may refresh your memories by reading silently while I come around to check your work."

Sirius looked outraged. "What did we do this yesterday for, if she's going to make us do it again in class?" he hissed at Harry.

Harry, who saw Professor Spinnet's eyes turn in their direction, elbowed Sirius in the ribs to make him be quiet.

To make matters worse, Harry and Sirius had done this part of their assignment in the morning before breakfast, and without Lupin Harry had barely managed to convince Sirius to do it all.

"Very good, girls," Professor Spinnet said as she walked down the isle. "I don't recall mentioning dragon pox or any of the seven plagues, but I am pleased you found your homework so fascinating..." She was getting closer to Harry now. "Is that all? I believe next time I shall specify the minimum amount of effort expected..."

Harry and Sirius each received a nod, their work apparently not even worth words, but Lupin got another, "Very good," and seemed pleased enough. Harry didn't even know when Lupin might have done the assignment, though he wasn't surprised that Lupin hadn't forgotten it.

"Not bad for your first assignment," Professor Spinnet said after finishing her round of the classroom. "Once you receive your graded notes back, you will know where improvement is necessary. Your books and notes will be checked at the beginning of each class, so come prepared."

Even Lupin didn't look particularly happy at this announcement.

"This is a friend of yours?" Sirius whispered into Harry's eat, poking him rather painfully.

"Not my fault she took a page out of Professor Snape's book," Harry whispered back defensively.

"Shh!" Lupin said.

"-- with your book and make a big circle."

Lupin gave Harry and Sirius an ugly look. "Now I missed what she wants us to do!"

Harry looked around. Other students were dragging their chairs to the front of the room.

He shrugged at Lupin. "I don't think you missed much."

Lupin shoved his book under his arm and started dragging his chair, leaving Harry and Sirius behind.

"Poor Milo," Sirius said with an exaggerated sigh. He rolled his eyes. "Well, come on."

Eventually all the students were seated in a circle, more or less, with Professor Spinnet stalking the outside and an empty chair sitting rather ominously in the middle.

"On page twenty-four of your book, you will find a letter written by our first Minister for Magic to his brother shortly after taking office. I would like a volunteer to play the part of the Minister --" Professor Spinnet looked around the circle, but no hands were raised. "-- Anita will be Minister. Come to the center, please."

Everyone watched as Anita Pembleton, one of the Gryffindor twins, reluctantly left her seat, clutching her book to her chest like a shield.

"Everyone else shall play the part of the brother, and think of one good question to ask the Minister. Your question should be such that the answer can be found within the letter. You have two minutes -- begin!"

"Hex me," Sirius muttered, slouching down in his seat.

Anita looked like she was trying very hard not to cry.

 

---

 

"I don't know what she thinks she's doing," Lupin fumed as they walked to Transfiguration. "First she tries to come off all friendly, calling us by our first names when no one else does that --"

"Trelawney does," Harry put in.

"Shh!" Lupin hissed at him. "Then she assigns dull busy-work, and then --"

"You're just upset you got detention again," Sirius said with a slightly mean grin. "But you deserved it, dear Mr. Moony, for criticizing a teacher to her face. Even if it was funny to see her lose it."

"I did not criticize!" Lupin said, looking upset. "I just couldn't stand to see her make another child cry, that's all!"

"Have you got a 'saving people' thing, too, Milo?" Harry asked innocently. "You know how that only leads to trouble."

Lupin glared at him.

"I'm sure Professor Snape will understand," Harry went on blithely. "Just explain to him how you think our teacher is too mean."

Sirius snorted with laughter.

But Harry had apparently gone too far, because Lupin shouldered his way past them, speeding up and disappearing around the next corner.

"Whoops," Sirius said quietly. He turned to Harry. "Now, why did you do that, James?"

Harry started to sputter an answer, until he saw that Sirius was laughing at him.

"Don't worry, he can take it."

Harry looked at him doubtfully.

"I think it's hilarious he keeps after us to behave, and he's the one who's earned two detentions."

"He was right, though," Harry said. "I can't believe she insisted on continuing."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "She's new to this. If she's still this bad after a month, then we'll let Milo lead a revolt."

Harry was still grinning as they entered the Transfiguration classroom and sat down on either side of Lupin, who gave them a mistrustful look over the top of his textbook.

"We're sorry, Milo," Harry said.

"But you know you shouldn't have said anything," Sirius added.

Lupin shrugged one shoulder and slowly lowered the book to his desk.

"Now, don't go criticizing McGonagall," Sirius warned in a mock scolding tone. "I think you're limited to one detention a day, so you'll just have to hold it in until tomorrow."

"Enough already," Lupin said with exasperation. "All right, so I shouldn't have. Happy?"

Fortunately, McGonagall's lesson was a repeat of the last one. Harry couldn't remember how long they had worked on turning matches into needles in his first year at Hogwarts, but he supposed they wouldn't be moving on to anything more difficult until most of the class had grasped the basics. So far, only Lupin had.

Sirius was still a disaster. McGongall had given him ten matches when everyone else got one, but Sirius ended up with ten piles of ash in spite of what Harry thought was a lot of effort and concentration. Even Lupin hadn't told Sirius once to pay attention. Sirius, with his brows knitted and his lips pressed together, certainly looked like he was trying to make the spell work.

"Are you having any luck with this?" Sirius asked, reaching the end of his matchsticks and apparently his patience, too. He tapped his wand irritably on the edge of his desk.

"No," Harry said, looking closely at his match in case it had maybe gone silver or slightly pointy. "But this isn't my best subject."

"Shh!" Lupin warned. He had finished; Harry had seen him roll the needle under his book a few moments earlier.

Harry looked around, but no one was paying them any attention.

He noticed that Noah Perkins was still absent.

"What?" Sirius asked, noticing Harry's frown.

"Noah Perkins -- you know that boy Spinnet sent out? -- he's still not back."

Sirius and Lupin exchanged a look. Harry couldn't help noticing how Lupin's face paled.

"What?" he demanded, lowering his voice to a whisper so as not to bring McGonagall down on them. "What are you not telling me? There was something going on at breakfast, too."

"Shh!" Lupin whispered. "Not here, James." He looked at Sirius again. "Anyway, I don't think you need to know this just now."

To Harry's consternation, Sirius nodded, looking grim.

"You're going to tell me," Harry hissed at them, gritting his teeth. He was thinking of all the times Lupin wouldn't let him read the newspaper while he was recuperating at Grimmauld Place. It always enraged him when he wasn't allowed to know what was going on. "Right after class, you're going to tell me."

"Mr. McKenna!" McGonagall called from across the room. "Unless you are prepared to show me your progress, I suggest you get back to your work."

Harry ducked his head, but through the rest of the class he kept shooting icy glances at Sirius and Lupin to remind them he hadn't forgotten.

"Hey -- where're you going?" Harry exclaimed as Lupin swept his books and parchment into his book bag and took off without waiting for him and Sirius.

"Lunch. See you there," Lupin called over his shoulder.

Harry turned on Sirius. "Don't think this lets you off."

"Just let it go, James," Sirius said, avoiding his eyes. He started to pack up his things. "We still have classes today and --"

"You're going to tell me," Harry insisted. "I told you everything when you asked me because no one else was telling you anything!"

Sirius slung his book bag over his shoulder and stood up. Harry scrambled after him.

There were too many people around for Harry to continue to badger Sirius while they walked down to the Great Hall.

"Do you think he went to put his books away, or straight to lunch?" Sirius asked as they got to the Entrance Hall.

"Don't change the subject."

"Fine. I'll tell you during our free period," Sirius offered grudgingly. "But don't blame me if it ruins your day. There are some things it's better not to know, no matter what Spinnet says."

"What does she have to do with it?" Harry demanded. Someone jostled his arm and he had to stop to pick up his spilled quills and books as Sirius pushed ahead through the crowd without him. "Wait, Paddy!"

Sirius tried to stop, but the crowd of first years were joined by older students coming out of the dungeons, and with a helpless wave to Harry, Sirius disappeared through the doorway to the Great Hall.

Harry shook his head and waited for the worst of the crowd to pass before he went on.

"Really, Weasley, picking on a first year?"

Harry whipped around so fast, his book bag slipped off his shoulder and went skidding across the floor.

"Mind your own business, Malfoy!"

"This is my business. I'm a Prefect. Just because you don't take your responsibilities seriously --"

"Shut up! None of us even know why you came crawling back -- nobody wants you here --"

"Ron!"

"Clear off, Neville, this has nothing to do with you!"

Harry, by this time, had made it up the first flight of stairs. He could hear running footsteps behind him, but didn't waste time turning to look.

"He's right, Ron. I don't think you should have been saying those things."

"I said clear off!"

Ron had his hand clamped around the arm of Noah Perkins, who was in tears much like the last time Harry had seen him. Ron's wand, in his other hand, was raised against Malfoy.

"I'd put that down, if I were you, Weasley."

"Or what?"

"Or," said Neville, stepping between Ron and Malfoy with a determined, if slightly pale, expression, "you'll be stripped of your badge. I'm not going to let you bully anyone, Ronald Weasley, including me."

Ron sputtered, his face turning bright red, and Harry was sure he was going to curse Neville.

Instead, Ron shoved Noah Perkins forward, causing Neville to have to step to the side to catch him.

"This is for everything you ever did to us, Malfoy!" Ron spat, bringing his wand slashing down.

"Protego!"

A burst of bright white light flew over Harry's shoulder, narrowly missing his ear.

Ron dropped his wand, his hand flying to his face, which was starting to swell.

"What's the matter, Malfoy," he said viciously, bending to pick up his wand. "No friends left? Now you need a pair of first years to defend you?"

Harry looked at Sirius again, afraid of what might happen next.

Sirius had his wand pointed at Ron's head and his eyes were shining dangerously, but he stayed silent. Harry wouldn't have even known the hex had come from Sirius at all, except there was nowhere else it could have come from.

"I don't see anyone standing by you, Weasley," Malfoy said. He had dropped the protective shield and was pointing his wand at Ron, too. "Not even Gryffindors. Maybe that should tell you something."

Ron's wand hand twitched.

"It's ironic," Malfoy jeered, his lip curling. "I recall you stayed home, safe with Mummy --"

"That's enough," Neville said.

Malfoy fell silent.

"I'll take your badge now, Ron," Neville said quietly, holding out his hand.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

"I'm serious. I may only be a temporary teacher, but I think the Headmistress will forgive me for overstepping."

Ron stared at Neville like he could not believe what was happening. "The Neville I knew from D.A. would never --"

"The Ron I knew from D.A. wouldn't ever have bullied a first year," Neville said. "And I know Harry wouldn't have stood for it."

Ron's red face turned a sick shade of white. He ripped his Prefect badge off his robes and threw it to the floor, where it bounced until it came to rest against Neville's shoe. He turned on his heel to stalk away, shoving his wand in his pocket.

"Stay where you are, Mr. Weasley."

Harry was glad he had never taken out his wand; Sirius was quickly putting his away, but it was too late for that.

Snape, with Lupin trailing behind him and looking guilty, stopped in front of them, his black eyes traveling slowly over Malfoy, Neville, Noah Perkins, Harry, Sirius, and finally Ron.

"We shall discuss this in the Headmistress' office later today, Weasley. Dismissed."

Snape waited until Ron had stepped on the next staircase, which promptly swept him away.

"The rest of you," Snape said, turning back to grace them with one of his most displeased looks, "will see me during your free period."

Harry swallowed.

"James didn't do anything," Sirius said immediately.

Snape apparently didn't deign this worthy of an answer, and ignored him. "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Longbottom, escort these first years to the Great Hall."

Neville moved to take Noah by the hand, but Noah wouldn't budge from where he had pressed himself against a corner of the banisters.

"We've got him," Sirius said, grabbing Noah's hand and tugging him forward. "Come on, Perkins, stick with us."

Harry exchanged a look with Lupin, but followed Sirius.

"Nice stinging hex," Malfoy commented. "What is your name again?"

"Puddifoot," Sirius said irritably. "Thanks."

Malfoy looked at Neville. "So, what did you get involved for, Longbottom?"

"I wasn't going to let him say those things," Neville said, shrugging. "You just beat me to it, that's all."

"Don't you have to sleep in the same dorm?"

Neville's shoulders slumped a bit. "Well, yeah..."

"What is with him, anyway? Never really took Weasley for a cowardly bully, much as I hate to compliment him."

"He just lost his best friend, what do you think?" Neville said, bristling. He sped up, reaching the Great Hall well ahead of them.

"Touchy, isn't he," Malfoy muttered under his breath. "Stupid Gryffindors." He looked over at Harry, Sirius, and Lupin. "You three stick together, like all Slytherins should do. Gryffindors have always been quick to attack, with magic or with fists. They've got no self control."

With that, he strolled through the doorway to the Great Hall, not noticing that he'd left Harry and Sirius sputtering with indignation.

"Come on," Lupin said with a sigh, catching them both under the arms. "Let's take Noah over to the Hufflepuff table and see if we still have time to eat a proper meal before our next class."

They left a still sniffling Noah with the Hufflepuff prefect and sat down at the end of the Slytherin table.

"You did magic," Lupin said to Sirius, eyeing him warily. "That was a pretty strong spell."

Sirius shrugged, stabbing his fork into a piece of sausage.

"You attacked my best friend," Harry said quietly.

Sirius wouldn't look at him. He just shrugged again.

"What happened?" Lupin asked, frowning at Harry. "One minute you're standing in the doorway and the next I see you running, with Patrick tearing after you."

"You got Professor Snape," Harry said, only half hearing Lupin's question. Sirius had hexed Ron. Lupin had gone running for Snape. It all made a big mess inside his head.

"Yes, well..." Lupin scratched the back of his neck and trailed off.

They ate in silence. There wasn't much time, anyway; by the time they had sat down, many students had already finished eating.

Harry couldn't stop turning everything over in his head, trying to make it fit somehow.

Ron wouldn't have --? But Neville, no matter how much confidence he had gained the previous year, wouldn't have attacked first. Harry just couldn't see that happening, so he had to accept that Neville must have heard Ron say something quite bad.

Harry knew Ron was capable of saying ugly things when he was angry, but what could he have said that would have turned both Neville and Malfoy against him? Harry couldn't think of a more unlikely pair to team up against another student.

It made his head hurt.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked as they headed for Potions.

"No," Harry said.

"I understand you think you can handle anything --"

"Huh?"

Lupin blinked, frowning. "I thought you were upset I got Professor Snape."

"Not that I think you should have..." Harry muttered.

"It could have been anything," Lupin said irritably. "I don't know why everyone is so determined to get personally involved in every fight."

Harry, feeling absolutely at the end of his nerves, entered the Potions classroom with dread.

Sirius steered them to the corner where Noah Perkins was trying to look small and unimportant.

"Budge over, Perkins," Sirius said. "It's customary to save seats for your friends."

Noah Perkins looked like he was about to faint, but he scooted his things over to the end of the table, leaving space for Sirius to sit down.

"What is he doing?" Harry whispered to Lupin as they sat down at the next table.

Lupin shrugged. "No idea."

Snape came in just then, and the room went quiet.

It didn't take long for Snape's gaze to land on them. His forehead creased and the corners of his mouth twitch downward, but Snape continued to the front of the room without saying anything.

Still, Harry felt Snape's eyes on him all through the lecture. He kept his eyes on his parchment, mostly, but just about every time he looked up, Snape was looking their way. Harry couldn't help feeling that something was coming, and it did nothing for his nerves or his mood.

He tried to tell himself that it was only because he had a meeting with Snape to look forward to instead of a free period, and because he, Sirius, and Lupin were all in trouble one way or another, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else.

"Listen, Patrick," Lupin said when Noah Perkins helpfully -- at Sirius' suggestion -- went to get ingredients for all of their potions. "You are not going to bully this little boy into doing half our work."

Sirius looked insulted. "What?"

"I mean sending him to get ingredients for me and James, when we're --"

"I did not!" Sirius said hotly. "That is not at all --"

"Five points from... Slytherin." Snape had clearly almost said something else. "For excessive noise."

Sirius glared indignantly at Lupin. "I did not, Milo."

"Then what are you doing?" Lupin asked, echoing Harry's question. "I'm not letting you use him as part of some ploy to annoy Professor --"

"Five more points from Slytherin," Snape said in a deadly tone. Now he was walking toward them.

Sirius snapped his mouth shut, his eyes flashing and splotches of red blooming on his cheeks. Without another word, he turned his back on them.

"Is there a problem?" Snape asked, stopping in front of them. His eyes were burning into Harry's, which was absolutely unfair given that Harry had not so much as made a sound while Sirius and Lupin argued.

"No, Professor," Lupin said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Then I will ask you one more time not to disturb those students around you who actually wish to learn something."

Snape's eyes lingered on them even as he moved away.

"Thanks," Harry said to Noah Perkins, who had returned with their thistles, willow leaves, and frog legs. "My name's James, by the way. This is Milo."

Noah squeaked something that didn't quite sound like his name, turned bright pink, and fell into his seat next to Sirius.

Harry tried to turn his attention to Snape, who was demonstrating on a magically enlarged thistle.

"Use light pressure, cut down the middle and lay the halves flat on your cutting mat before cutting once more down the middle. You will end with four identical pieces. Begin."

Harry noticed that Sirius was hacking angrily at his thistles, with Noah watching open-mouthed.

"Do you want me to do it?" Lupin asked.

"Let's take four each," Harry suggested, moving four of the pink-topped, prickly flowers over to his side of the table.

Snape was walking around, but Harry didn't hear him make any comments. Not even when he reached Sirius' table and saw the butchered bits of thistle lying in their own sticky juices, though his lips thinned into a straight line.

Next, they ground up the willow leaves into paste, something Sirius also found agreeable to his wrathful mood.

Lupin shrugged at Harry. "Ignore him."

Snape had them place their prepared ingredients on a tray and take them to a long table near the front of the room. For the rest of class, they copied out the recipe for the potion they would be making the next time. Harry, still not used to a Potions class that was only one period long, breathed a small sigh of relief that they weren't going to be actually brewing.

"Class is dismissed," Snape said. He looked over at Harry, Sirius, and Lupin. "Except for the three students I need to speak with."

"Bye, Perkins," Sirius said, a little too late to be heard by Noah, who had fled like he was being chased by fiendfyre.

The classroom emptied fast; students were obviously looking forward to having a free period, probably full of plans to use the time to explore the castle, go outside, catch up on homework, take a nap -- well, Harry could make an endless list of things he would rather be doing than meeting with Snape to discuss their behavior... again.

"Stop lurking in the doorway, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said. "Is Mr. Malfoy going to join us?"

"I'm here, sir," Malfoy said, coming inside on the heels of a nervous-looking Neville.

"Very well," Snape said, waving his wand to shut the door with a bang that made them all jump. "Come to the front."

Harry tried to catch Lupin's eyes, but Lupin was looking down at the floor. Sirius had already marched off toward Snape's desk, so Harry had little choice but to follow.

"Begin from the beginning," Snape said with a cold look at each of them in turn.

"Weasley started it, sir," Malfoy said immediately. "I didn't take my wand out until he pointed his at me."

"That does not sound like the beginning, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said. He turned toward Neville. "Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville visibly swallowed. "I was coming down from the library when I heard crying. Ron had the little boy by the hand and was leading him down to the Great Hall, I think..."

"Noah was sent to the hospital wing from History class," Lupin supplied. "Probably a Prefect was asked to take him to lunch."

"I did not ask you to speculate," Snape said. "Go on, Mr. Longbottom."

"Ron was trying to get him to stop crying," Neville said. "He was trying to bribe him with sweets, so I didn't think to stop and interfere. That didn't work, though, so next Ron threatened to take him back to the hospital wing, and that really backfired badly." Neville stopped for a moment to chew on his lip. "Just after I passed them I heard Ron saying it was no wonder Noah was kicked out of Gryffindor and is a Hufflepuff now. Then..."

"Then Weasley said," Malfoy continued when Neville faltered, "it was probably sniveling that gave them away to the Death Eaters. I thought that was a rotten thing to say to someone who saw his friends die and nearly died himself."

Harry sat frozen, feeling sick to his stomach. Ron did say awfully stupid things sometimes when he lost his temper, but this was just dreadful.

Snape's eyes moved slowly from Malfoy to Neville, who nodded miserably.

"Very well, Mr. Longbottom. That's all I needed from you. I believe you have somewhere to be now?"

Neville practically ran out of Snape's office.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said slowly, giving Malfoy the kind of look that Harry was used to being on the receiving end of. "Since you neither drew your wand first nor used it, you are free to go." He paused. "You might want to watch your back."

"Yes, sir." Under his breath, as he followed Neville out, Malfoy muttered, "I can handle Weasley."

Snape waited until Malfoy was gone, shut the door again, and fixed Harry, Sirius, and Lupin with a very dark look.

"I did it," Sirius said. "James didn't even have his wand out."

"I'm well aware of who did what," Snape said, his voice low and abnormally calm. "I saw you do it."

"He was about to use a dangerous curse," Sirius said, leaning forward and staring right into Snape's eyes. "I recognized the movement and, anyway, Weasley doesn't cast non-verbally yet, so he was mouthing the incantation."

"Be that as it may," Snape said, glaring at him, "the spell you used is only a split hair away from Dark magic as well, not to mention that magic between classes is strictly forbidden."

Sirius scowled and looked down at his feet.

"And you," Snape turned to Lupin, who immediately looked down as well. "Another detention?"

"She was picking on students," Lupin mumbled.

"Spinnet is a first year teacher, two years out of Hogwarts, and she doesn't know what she's doing," Snape said bluntly. "I doubt she will improve any time soon. You will just have to deal with it."

Lupin nodded without looking up.

"Do not draw attention to yourself again. You will both serve detention with Filch immediately after dinner."

Lupin nodded again, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.

"Dismissed. McKenna, stay behind, I wish to speak with you privately."

Sirius looked like he was about to protest, but Lupin dragged him out of the classroom.

Snape regarded Harry for a long moment.

"I had been counting on him to keep Puddifoot in line," Snape said finally. "How do you feel that's working so far?"

Having not expected to be asked his opinion on any subject, Harry's first instinct was to shrug.

"That is not an answer."

"I don't know," Harry said. "They're always fighting. Milo says Paddy's fine, though."

"Why has he dragged that unfortunate child into your group?"

Harry needed a few moments to realize Snape meant Noah Perkins. "I don't know. It just happened."

"Find out," Snape said. "I will expect a report."

A report, Harry repeated incredulously inside his head. Snape was really serious about Harry being his little spy.

"I suspect," Snape said, looking grim, "he's going about putting the Marauders back together, and he's just found a pliable weakling he thinks will hang on his every word and applaud his every action..."

Harry felt his ears start to burn.

"That child went through enough already, and doesn't need Puddifoot influencing him. And the last thing any of us need this year is another group of rule-breakers at Hogwarts."

Snape frowned and looked off to the side, apparently forgetting he even had an audience.

"Er -- sir?"

Snape's eyes refocused on Harry.

"I... well, what did happen to Noah Perkins, sir?"

Snape stared at him in silence.

"I was going to make Milo and Paddy tell me," Harry said defensively; Snape's strange gaze was creeping him out. "I think they know."

"Noah Perkins," Snape said slowly, his voice low. He cleared his throat. "Noah Perkins was sorted into Gryffindor on the first of September. There were only ten first years in all."

Harry nodded when Snape paused. He knew that very few students had come back to Hogwarts after the summer. He had missed the Sorting and the Welcoming Feast, but it had been nearly a full week before Voldemort attacked the school, and it had been very clear that enrollment had dropped to a fraction of usual. Harry, lost in his own troubles, simply hadn't taken much notice of the first year students.

"Professor Sprout was leading the younger students out of the school through a passageway between the castle and Greenhouse Three," Snape continued. "Fighting on either end made them take shelter inside for a prolonged period." Snape paused again, drawing in a slow breath and looking at Harry with a slightly wary expression. "They were discovered. Whether on purpose or not, the passageway was collapsed."

Harry felt lightheaded. His spine didn't seem to want to hold him up anymore.

"Why didn't I hear about it?"

"I suppose you had been taken away from the school by then," Snape said. Harry became suddenly aware that Snape had propped him up with a firm hand on his shoulder. "There was an article in the Daily Prophet, but they did not list the casualties because families had not been notified yet... and some of the dead had not been conclusively identified."

Harry vomited all over his lap, shoes, and the floor.

"Tergeo."

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but found it dry. "Thanks."

"Go clean yourself up at the sink," Snape said quietly, giving him a small push to get him going.

Harry rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on his face. He still felt lightheaded and weak, and his legs were so shaky he didn't want to let go of the counter to return to where he presumed Snape was waiting for him.

He leaned his hands against the damp wood, staring at the wall in front of him.

"They all died?"

"No," Snape said after a moment. "Many of the older students managed to cast shields and save themselves from falling debris. There were sixteen casualties, including Sprout herself."

Harry's stomach heaved again, but nothing came up this time. He leaned over the sink, trying to get air into his lungs.

"Noah Perkins was not the only first year to survive, but he is the only one to return to Hogwarts," Snape continued. "It was decided he would be sorted again, with the others... and you know the outcome."

"That's... that's terrible," Harry managed to choke out. "And I didn't even know... why didn't someone tell me?"

"That is not something I can answer," Snape said. "There was a complete list of casualties put out by the Ministry for the memorial service, but I imagine most names didn't mean anything to you even if you saw it."

Harry nodded bleakly. He had seen the list and hadn't connected most names to anyone he actually knew. He remembered trying to count names of students, names of Order members... but he hadn't known...

"I guess I just assumed most of those names were Ministry people and Aurors and... it was bad enough seeing so many of my friends on that list."

Snape didn't say anything.

"I hate this," Harry said, feeling his chest constrict. "I hate finding out it was even worse."

He stood there for a while, his hands going slightly numb from leaning on them, staring at the empty section of wall above the sink. Finally, he turned around.

"I'll let you know if I find out anything."

Snape nodded. "I believe you have another class now."

"Yes, Herbology."

But Harry didn't make a move to leave.

"Is there something else?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "No, nothing."

Snape studied him for a while. "Do you need a calming draught?"

Harry shook his head again.

"Do you need time to pull yourself back together?" Snape asked, a note of impatience in his voice.

"I... No."

Snape frowned at him.

"I'm going," Harry said.

He crossed the room and grabbed his things, not meeting Snape's eyes again.

 

---

 

By the time they got to Greenhouse One, Harry was already feeling annoyed by the looks Sirius and Lupin kept shooting in his direction and the way they kept exchanging meaningful looks over his head. He was just waiting for them to ask what Snape had wanted, which was about the last thing he wanted to talk about.

There was nothing in Greenhouse One but a long table with a pile of empty pots in the center and pairs of gloves already laid out on top of mats. Since there were no instructions and Neville was nowhere in sight, the students milled together in a corner by the door in a slightly apprehensive group. Apparently, the teachers they had already had the pleasure of meeting had them worrying what this new one might be like.

"I heard he killed a giant snake," whispered a boy behind Harry, whose ears perked up until he realized they weren't talking about him and the basilisk.

"He killed it with a huge sword. My Mum told me. She's an Auror, you know."

"I heard he talks to plants. He told one to strangle a Death Eater!"

"I heard he was friends with Harry Potter."

Harry didn't like the frightened tone in which that had been said.

"I heard he hexed Ron Weasley with boils. Isn't that your Prefect, Gareth?"

Sirius snorted quietly.

"They let a Sixth Year teach class?"

Conversation died into total silence as Neville Longbottom walked into the greenhouse, a large crate full of leafy plants in his hands.

"I apologize for being late," he said. "I was speaking with the Headmistress."

No one said anything. Harry felt rather bad for Neville, who was pink and nervous.

Neville got to the front and dropped his crate on the table. He folded his hands in front of him, clearing his throat.

"My name is Neville Longbottom and I will be teaching beginning Herbology until a permanent teacher can be found --"

"Bad move," Lupin muttered, shaking his head slightly.

"Huh?" Harry whispered back.

"-- Our textbook is One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Please bring it to every class, since we will be working on identifying plants. Any questions?"

No one had any.

"Great..." Neville said, smiling a nervous smile that looked more like a grimace. "Well, let's begin, then. The best way to learn about plants is to work with plants, of course. Today you will start a project that you will be working on for the next twelve weeks. Put on your gloves, please."

Once everyone had their gloves on, Neville had them take four empty pots from the pile and write their names on the labels stuck to the sides.

"Each of you will get four different magical plants today. There are nineteen of you, so all together we will have four hundred different plants, including the ones I will plant as an example."

"Ambitious," Lupin muttered.

Harry frowned at him.

"Most of these are herbs and none of them are very dangerous to handle. Just don't put anything in your mouth and you should be fine."

"What are we -- stupid?" someone whispered, not very quietly.

Neville reddened slightly.

"Once you get your seeds or seedlings, take some time to examine them and try to identify them using your book. Your grade for this project will be the sum of three parts." Neville held up his hand, counting them off on his fingers. "One -- you will be graded on how healthy your plants are. Two -- you will identify each of your plants. Three - you will write a one-foot essay on each of your plants, explaining their special qualities and magical uses. Each assignment will be worth ten points per plant. The minimum passing score is 60 points."

There were a few grumbles.

"If this sounds like a lot of work," Neville said quickly, "remember this class only meets once a week, and you will have twelve weeks to finish. Also, there will be no other reading assignments --" He paused to let the happy murmurs die down. "Although, of course, your plants will need to be watered daily. I suggest you work as a team with your House members to make this part more manageable."

There were some looks exchanged, and the two Slytherin girls, Juliette Tate and Wilma Salinger, were trying to catch Harry's eye.

Neville quickly distributed the contents of the crate.

Harry examined what he had got. Unlike Sirius and Lupin, who each had seedling with roots, stems, and leaves, all Harry had were seeds.

With a small sigh, he set to work trying to find them in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

The large, flat seed nearly as big as his hand was the easiest to identify -- it was pumpkin, probably one of those giant pumpkins Hagrid usually grew.

"You found one?" Sirius asked grumpily, looking over at Harry's book. "I've got two that look like the same thing."

Harry looked at Sirius' plants. There were two that looked similar, but Harry noticed right away that the leaves had different shapes.

"I'll trade you one for one of my seeds," Harry said generously.

"Thanks!" Sirius said, smiling at him brightly.

"Welcome," Harry said, reaching carefully for one of Sirius' seedlings.

When he put it down on his mat, he saw that Sirius had taken his pumpkin seed.

"Hey..."

Lupin was watching with a half amused, half disgusted expression.

Shrugging, but with a displeased look in Sirius' direction -- which Sirius completely missed -- Harry went back to work.

Lupin was sketching his seedlings on a piece of parchment, each labeled with their common name, Latin name, and the page number where they could be found in the textbook.

"You got them all already?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Aconite," Lupin said, pointing. Very quietly, he added, "Good thing we were wearing gloves, and so much for none of the plants being dangerous." He pointed to the next seedling. "That's buckbean. This one's called caper. This one is henbane... I'm almost sure."

Sirius came over to look at Lupin's plants with an aggrieved expression.

"Oh, no," Lupin said quickly. "You can't have any."

"Don't be daft," Sirius said. "Give me the aconite. What if one day we aren't told to wear gloves?"

Lupin shook his head. "We always wear gloves in here. Besides, I already wrote it down."

"This is for your own good," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the plant before Lupin could move it out of reach. "Here, have a... well, whatever this ugly shriveled thing is."

Lupin accepted the substitution with a bad-natured scowl.

Harry turned back to his own work, examining a shiny, bright red seed with an oblong shape. The color would have made it easy to identify, had the textbook not been in black and white. He read through a few descriptions before deciding to label it as a Lucky Bean plant for the time being.

"I know some of you are still working on identifying your plants," Neville said a few minutes later, "but we want to have plenty of time to get your plants into their pots. There are bags of soil along the wall here, so go ahead and fill your pots about half way."

Harry shook his head resignedly. He only had one plant identified, and he wasn't even very sure about it. Lupin had done all four -- even the 'ugly, shriveled' contribution from Sirius -- and Sirius had two.

"Excellent work," Neville said as he stopped to look over their shoulders. He moved on to calm a Hufflepuff who had stuffed her seedling into the pot wrong end up.

"I will now demonstrate the correct way to water your plants so as not to damage their delicate stems and leaves." Neville waited a few moments, but the talking didn't diminish by much. "All eyes on me, please."

"Shh!" Sirius growled at a group of noisy girls. They looked scandalized, but fell silent.

"Er -- Yes, thank you," Neville said, looking at Sirius with a mixture of gratitude and disapproval. "Like I said, it is important to water your plants carefully."

Neville demonstrated four times before allowing them to get watering cans.

"After you finish, class will be over for the day and I will walk you back to the castle. You may want to use the last few minutes of class to talk to your House members and set up a watering schedule."

Harry looked around for the Slytherin girls in case they wanted to work together -- it wasn't their fault they had Harry, Sirius, and Lupin in their House, after all -- but he found them chatting with a mixed group of Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs.

"Sorry," Juliette Tate mouthed, shrugging, when she saw him looking.

"Perkins -- hey, Perkins!"

"Patrick!"

Sirius didn't listen; he was already making his way around the table to where Noah Perkins was sitting by himself, head down.

Lupin sighed.

"I asked Professor Snape," Harry said to him, keeping his voice low. "He told me."

Lupin turned quickly to look at him.

"He said to keep Paddy away from Noah. Do you think we should?"

Lupin hesitated before answering. "You saw how he is. I don't want him using any of the students."

"Professor Snape said Paddy might be looking for a pushover -- well, he said 'weakling', really..."

Lupin frowned. "I don't think --"

"Hey Milo, James -- Perkins just said he'll work with us."

Sirius was leading Noah over to them, with Noah dragging his feet the whole way.

Lupin plastered a smile on his face. "Hello, Noah."

"Hi, Noah," Harry said.

Noah looked at his feet.

"I thought Noah could water our plants this week --" Sirius began.

"Oh, no," Lupin said, still smiling sickeningly. "James and I already decided you would do it, since we helped you out so much. Isn't that right, James?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "Then I can do it next week and then Milo. Since we didn't know Noah would be working with us, he'll have to be at the end. Sorry about that."

Sirius gave them an odd look. "Well... all right."

"See you later, Noah," Harry said as Lupin pulled him toward the exit.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded as they let the others get ahead of them, lead by Neville, so they could talk in private. "Are you upset with me for some reason?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lupin said. "We're not going to take turns watering plants anyway."

"We're not?" Sirius said blankly, which saved Harry from stupidly saying the same thing.

"Of course not," Lupin said in the sort of tone Snape might have used to address a particularly dim-witted student. "What are the other two supposed to do while one of us goes traipsing off outdoors? McGonagall and Professor Snape would just love that, wouldn't they?"

Sirius' face fell. "That's --"

"Anyway," Lupin went on, ignoring him, "you aren't going to make Noah do all our work -- I told you that back in Potions."

"I wasn't," Sirius said, looking injured. "I told you I wasn't. I just thought the kid didn't have anyone to work with and --" He looked sideways at Harry, cutting himself off.

"I already know," Harry said. "I asked Professor Snape."

Sirius' expression changed through several shades of outraged, worried, and insulted. "He had no business --"

"Just forget it," Harry said, tired of arguing. "Let's put our books away and go to dinner. I didn't eat enough at lunch and I'm starving."

They made their way down to the dungeons, fighting against the tide of Sixth and Seventh years getting out of Snape's N.E.W.T.s level Potions class, which apparently combined the two years due to the low enrollment.

They had to walk past the classrooms to get to Snape's quarters. Harry's steps slowed to a crawl when he realized the way was blocked by two bickering students.

"That was a terrible thing to say --"

"Lay off me, will you? I only came down here to ask you to take over my Prefect duties tonight. I don't need a lecture."

"Oh, Ron, this is not like you at all --"

"I said lay off me! You weren't there! You didn't hear Malfoy!"

"This isn't about him --"

"NO?"

"We need to talk about this, Ron. You aren't the only one who's suffering. I hurt, too -- I... I lost Harry, too --"

Harry froze. He didn't even struggle when Sirius and Lupin grabbed him and pulled him into Snape's office, the closest open doorway, and shut the door.

They dropped him in a chair and stared at him with wide eyes.

In the corridor outside, two sets of footsteps, one pounding and one hurrying to catch up and then slowing to a walk, faded into silence.

Harry, afraid he was going to be sick again, took some shuddering breaths.

The door banged open.

Snape looked the three of them over, his eyes finally resting on Harry.

"Calming draught," Snape said. He produced one from a cabinet next to his desk and handed it to Harry.

Harry drank it without much thinking. A warm, floaty feeling slowly washed over him.

"Have him lie down for ten minutes or so," Snape told Lupin, ignoring Sirius' presence. "I suggest the three of you spend a quiet evening doing homework and resting."

Harry followed Lupin without protest. Sirius brought up the rear, carrying Harry's book bag and scowling.

"Do you want to nap, James?" Lupin asked when they got to their room. He was looking at Harry worriedly. "We could bring your dinner."

"No, that's all right," Harry said languidly. He lay back against the pillows -- Lupin had taken all the pillows and piled them against the headboard of Harry's bed -- and stared up at the ceiling. Somewhere far in his mind, he knew it was the calming draught, but it was a nice feeling to not have any worries.

Sirius and Lupin exchanged another one of their looks. Harry idly supposed it was their 'worried about Harry look', and wondered just when they had developed it. Hermione and Ron had the same one.

Hermione and Ron.

The calming draught was wearing off.

Lupin perched on the end of Harry's bed. Sirius hovered over Lupin's shoulder.

"I'm fine. Really..."

"It was a tough day," Lupin said, clearing his throat.

Sirius nodded.

Harry sighed. The calming draught had definitely mostly worn off. "Let's go to dinner, all right?"

They went back up to the Great Hall and sat in their usual spot.

Now that Harry was looking at a full plate, he realized he wasn't all that hungry.

"Eat," Lupin said. "It's ridiculous how little you eat."

Sirius nodded in agreement, his mouth already very full.

"I can never eat when I'm nervous."

"Eat anyway," Lupin said unhelpfully. "You said yourself you didn't eat much lunch."

Harry tried the roast duck, which he had to admit was good.

"You can get started on homework while we're gone," Lupin told Harry. Then he peered a little closer at him. "Or take a nap. You really don't look so good."

Harry frowned until he remembered that both Lupin and Sirius had detention.

"Stop that," Lupin said quietly.

Harry looked up just in time to see him swat Sirius' hand. Sirius had been about to put some bread in his pocket.

Sirius looked at Lupin like he'd lost his mind. "It's for later! We've got detention and you know the greasy git won't let us out for tea!"

"Too bad if he doesn't," Lupin said unsympathetically. "You're not bringing any more food into our room to spoil when you don't get around to eating it."

Sirius looked affronted, but he dropped the bread back into the bread basket.

Harry managed to eat most of what he had put on his plate, or at least enough that Lupin didn't nag him when he pushed his plate away and refilled his glass with more pumpkin juice.

"There goes the bell," Lupin said rather dejectedly. "Come on, Patrick."

"Wait, I'll walk with you," Harry said.

They made it as far as the Entrance Hall before an irritated voice stopped them.

"Where are you going now?"

They turned around to face Snape, who had stopped in the doorway to the Great Hall, staring at them.

"We have detention," Lupin said.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I recall telling you less than an hour ago that you are to stay quietly in your room. I already informed Mr. Filch I will be handling your detention myself."

"But mine is from Professor Spinnet," Lupin said.

"Yes..." Snape's lip curled slightly. "However, she failed to set the terms, leaving it up to me as your Head of House. Now, I don't want to see you again for the rest of the evening, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Lupin and Harry said together. Sirius stayed silent, which was probably best anyway.

Snape didn't take his eyes off them until they disappeared down the dungeon stairwell.

A few minutes later Sirius threw himself down on the middle bed, dragging Harry down with him.

"He let us off detention," Sirius said in a slightly awed voice. "I don't think that's ever happened to me before."

"Good," Lupin said, dropping a stack of books on the bed. "Now we have more time to get all our work done."

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look of disgust.

Harry finished copying Lupin's History homework -- in the span of a single day, Lupin had given up Spinnet's class as a lost cause and was no longer pretending they had to try for good marks -- and put it on top of the pile of finished work.

"What's next?"

Lupin was reading a thick tome while waiting for them to get caught up, and he closed it with a reluctant sigh. "What do we have for Transfiguration? I've misplaced my notes."

Harry recalled that Lupin had taken off rather fast as soon as class had ended, trying to avoid having to tell Harry the truth about Noah Perkins and the many deaths Harry hadn't known about. "Maybe one of us got them by mistake."

He and Sirius looked in their bags.

"I've got them," Sirius said, pulling out some very wrinkled parchment and dropping it in front of Lupin. "You're welcome."

Lupin tried to smooth out the notes with an annoyed expression.

Harry looked at his own notes. "Looks like we're supposed to read the first two chapters again and write an essay analyzing the work we've done in class so far."

"I guess that lets you off," Sirius told Lupin with a grimace. "You got it right the first time you tried. What is there to analyze?"

"That's worse, really," Lupin said, a little too quickly. "I still have to write something."

Sirius didn't look like he agreed with that reasoning.

"Really," Lupin insisted. "I don't know why Transfiguration is coming so easy to me. It's your subject."

That placated Sirius a bit, and he got out a quill and parchment. Harry quickly followed suit.

"Do you think my problem is too much power?" Sirius wondered out loud, tapping the feathered end of his quill on his chin. "Transfiguration isn't usually so... explosive."

"I would have said it was lack of focus," Lupin said, "but I could tell you were really trying today."

"I was," Sirius said, looking a little miffed again. "Wasn't I, James?"

"Yes, definitely," Harry agreed. "I would rather my match caught fire -- mine did nothing. Again."

Sirius dropped his quill and patted Harry on the arm. "It isn't important, James. You'll get it. Transfiguration is damn hard and hardly anyone in class is making better progress than you."

Lupin seemed to be under the impression that Harry had purposely gone for Sirius' sympathy, because he was grinning encouragingly at Harry from behind Sirius' back.

"I know that," Harry said, swallowing his desire to point out that all the other students were having the subject for the first time, while he had five years of it under his belt. If Lupin thought he was on the right track, then he would keep going. "I'm just glad I have you two with me. I don't think I could do this alone."

Sirius patted him again. "You never give yourself enough credit."

Harry shrugged. "I like to be honest with myself, and that means admitting I haven't done as well in my studies as I could have."

Lupin winced a little, which Harry thought meant he was overdoing it.

"I mean," he added hastily, "I was always getting sidetracked by all sorts of things. Like Voldemort. And trying not to be killed."

Sirius squeezed him around the shoulders. "Poor James. It was really rotten you had all that dumped on you."

"So, uh... I'm actually sort of enjoying being back," Harry said, trying to sound like he meant it. "It's very odd, but... sort of nice. You know? I keep thinking it's so... normal."

Sirius gave him another squeeze. "No one said you couldn't enjoy yourself -- did they, Milo?"

"Not at all," Lupin said. "I think a normal year at Hogwarts could be good for all of us. Just think what an amazing chance it is to get to know each other. You and I didn't get to meet James until he was a teenager. This could give us all a chance to make up for lost time."

Sirius gave Lupin a suspicious look; Harry decided they had pushed him too far and he was catching on. "Maybe..."

"And, of course, it's a great way to keep James out of the public eye," Lupin added. "You do hate attention, don't you, James?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I really do. I hate not being able to go out without people staring at me."

"There, you see?" Lupin said. "A nice, normal year is exactly what he needs after everything that's happened to him."

Sirius looked at them with narrowed eyes. "I didn't say otherwise, did I? Of course James needs to stay here -- what choice does he have? They all think he's dead."

"I'm glad we agree," Lupin said.

"Don't argue," Harry said, his shoulders drooping. Couldn't they keep from arguing over him for one evening?

"We're not arguing," Sirius said, still glaring at Lupin.

They started on their essays in silence.

All Harry could think to write was that he needed more practice. He couldn't wait for Charms the next day; he had found First Year Charms very easy compared to Transfiguration. If Charms still came easy to him, he would feel a lot better about his lack of progress in Transfiguration and other subjects requiring wand-work. Right now, it looked like both Lupin and Sirius were ahead of him, Lupin with his perfect needles from matches and Sirius with his nasty stinging hex.

He made himself feel a little better by recalling that he had done better than either of them when Snape had given them his spare wand to try.

Lupin was done with his essay and had opened his book again. Harry sighed and tried to focus; he didn't think McGonagall would call one paragraph an essay.

"Done," Sirius said, shoving his essay away from himself and flopping over onto his back. "Hurry up, James."

Harry looked over at Sirius' essay, just as Lupin peered over the top of his book.

Sirius, clearly, didn't think one paragraph was too little.

Lupin sniffed irritably and went back to his reading without comment.

Harry managed to squeeze a few more sentences out of his unfocused brain, but he knew his essay was far from his best work. So much for what he had just said about trying harder to do well in his studies.

"Don't stop on his account," Lupin said when he saw Harry put down his quill. "Take all the time you need to do it properly."

"I can't concentrate," Harry said. He didn't want them to start arguing about him again. "I think it's as good as it's going to get, honestly."

Here, Hermione would have snatched up his essay and read it, pointing out a dozen ways he could improve it. Lupin, however, only eyed it doubtfully and shrugged.

"Can we take a break now?" Sirius asked, stretching. His shirt started to ride up, exposing his stomach, and he yanked it down. "I'm hungry. Anyone else hungry? James?"

"Not really," Harry said. "Besides, we aren't allowed out."

"You are," Sirius pointed out. "You don't have detention."

"Patrick..." Lupin said in a warning tone.

"Professor Snape did say we should stay in here," Harry said. "I think he meant all of us."

Sirius gave him a long, frustrated look. It was all Harry could do not to squirm; he could practically hear Sirius' voice accusing him of not being like James again.

"We still have Potions to do," Lupin said. "That's the last thing. Let's get it done."

Harry dragged his eyes away from Sirius. "What do we have?" He ducked his head and hid behind his notes so they couldn't see him licking his dry lips. "Hmm... just reading about the potion we're going to make using the ingredients we prepared today."

"I wrote we will have to use our notes to brew the potion, instead of our books," Lupin said. "We might want to go over what we wrote in class, just to make sure we didn't make mistakes."

Harry checked his notes again. He didn't have anything like that. "Oh."

Sirius made no move to begin.

"You better start," Lupin said, frowning at him. "We aren't on your team and if you fail, so will Noah. That's no way to make friends."

Grumbling under his breath, Sirius opened his book so roughly that he tore two pages down the middle, but got started on the work.

"Milo?"

Lupin's quill paused, dripping a glob of ink onto his parchment. "Yes, James?"

"Do you think Professor Snape is a good teacher?"

Sirius snorted so violently that ink from his quill went spraying across his parchment and the bedspread.

"I think..." Lupin hesitated. "I think he gets results. It's not a secret that most of his students pass their O.W.L.s and those who take his N.E.W.T.s class do very well, too."

"So, you don't think he's worse than Alicia -- Spinnet, I mean?"

"I think," Lupin said, looking uncomfortable, "he's found a teaching style that gets results, and he doesn't care to look for another."

Harry sighed. Leave it to Lupin to avoid answering.

"You're barmy," Sirius said, shaking his head.

They finished their work in silence. Harry was yawning by the time he had looked over his notes one last time.

"Go to bed, James," Lupin said, sliding the Potions textbook out from under Harry's hand. "It's been another long day, hasn't it?"

Harry nodded. It certainly hadn't been an easy one.

Lupin was studying him intently, frowning. "Take the Dreamless Sleep. You need some uninterrupted rest."

Harry nodded again, wishing Lupin wasn't right. Between the awful History lesson, the ugly reminder of the Hogwarts battle, the run-in between Ron, Neville, and Malfoy, and the overheard conversation between Ron and Hermione, his chances of sleeping through the night were grim. He doubted he could avoid nightmares; the potion would just push them back until he ran out of it, forgot to take it, or fell asleep unintentionally while studying. Sooner or later, he just knew he would find himself trapped in a dank underground passageway, his ears filled with terrified shrieks as the walls caved in.

Lupin's stare turned worried, and Harry forced himself to smile before Lupin went running to Snape again. Snape had already provided the potion. Pushing the nightmares back for a while was about all anyone could do, and Harry knew it even if Lupin didn't.

By the time he got back from the bathroom, Lupin had cleared away their books and had the lights dimmed. Sirius was already sitting in bed, changed into pajamas and staring morosely into space.

Under Lupin's watchful gaze, Harry climbed into bed and took out the bottle of potion.

"Good night," he said, swallowing a dose. He put the bottle back and lay down, letting his eyes fall shut and feeling the potion begin to work before it even settled into his stomach.

"Take some. The git said he had more."

Harry held on to consciousness long enough to hear Lupin protest.

"Shut up and take it, Moony."

Harry, even a heartbeat away from complete unawareness, felt his lips start to curl into a smile. However many things had gone wrong, there were still some things that made life worthwhile.

---

Their feet were dragging as they headed for History class the next morning.

"I knew it was bad it was first thing," Harry grumbled. "I just had the why wrong."

Lupin didn't try to be the voice of reason. His expression was a bit grim.

"Just stay out of it today," Sirius suggested, looking at Lupin instead of at Harry, even though Lupin had yet to say anything. "Whatever she does, she isn't as bad as --"

"Shh!" Lupin hissed with extra venom, his eyes darting toward a pair of Ravenclaws just ahead of them.

Sirius shrugged at Harry. "Well, I'm staying out of it, anyway," he said with a tone of finality, as if that settled everything.

Harry, having five years' worth of 'staying out of it' attempts under his belt, just sighed again.

They found seats in the back of the classroom.

The class was even more subdued, starting with a less than enthusiastic chorus of, "Good morning, Professor Spinnet." The previous class seemed to have taught everyone the same lesson: don't get noticed.

If Hermione were there, Harry was sure she could suggest spells for that, maybe starting with a simple notice-me-not charm. The thought made him smile a little, until he thought some more and decided his friend might actually side with the young professor. Disturbingly, Harry found he wasn't as sure of her reaction as he should have been after so many years of friendship. Lupin, who was displaying a number of Hermione's most obvious traits when it came to classes, wasn't impressed with Alicia Spinnet's teaching, after all.

His thoughts turned his mood even gloomier.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked, taking his narrowed eyes off Spinnet long enough to frown at Harry. "You look upset."

"I'm fine," Harry said quickly. Missing his friends was something he was just going to have to suffer through... until he could tell them everything.

If that time ever came.

"Incoming," Sirius hissed into Harry's other ear suddenly.

Professor Spinnet had flicked her wand, causing books to fly off the shelves and through the air over the students' heads. There were a few shrieks and squeals as they ducked for cover.

A book swooped down on Harry, making him think Olivia Titus, who had been sitting in front of him and was now cowering under her desk, might have had the right idea.. or at least better reflexes. The book, however, slowed just in time and fell to the desk in front of him with a bang.

Lupin caught a book out of the air as it came at his head.

"Ow!" A girl to the right of Harry had received her book as well, but hadn't been quick enough to get her fingers out of the way.

"Bugger," said a boy in a dismayed tone as a pot of ink was knocked off the edge of his desk.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for foul language!" snapped Spinnet.

Harry, now that he felt the danger had more or less passed, peered closely at his former Quidditch teammate.

She was flushed and sweaty, her hand tight around her wand.

He didn't think the over-powered spell had been intentional. Just the same, he was suddenly reminded of Lockhart's showy style.

He shook his head to clear it. Maybe it was just the fact that she was wearing dark lavender robes that day. He didn't think she was trying to impress them with magic. Not after proving she could reduce most of the class to tears with cutting words.

Slowly, the students returned to their seats, eyeing the books warily. Everyone had at least one.

Harry glanced at Sirius, who was making a rather poor attempt at pretending he hadn't just been under his desk.

"Nice to know what we can expect from a seven year education at the world's finest school of magic," Sirius said in a low voice, rolling his eyes.

Harry's eyes darted toward Spinnet in case she had heard, but fortunately she hadn't.

"Shh," Lupin said for good measure, having done the same thing.

"Each of these books," Professor Spinnet said in an unnecessarily loud voice, "mentions the International Statute of Secrecy. You may take the next ten minutes to find the relevant text in your book and take notes."

Almost as one, the students opened their books.

Harry's vision started to blur a little after he had forced himself to read the same paragraph four times, but he could tell no one else had finished yet, so he kept his head down.

Actually, he reckoned everyone else was keeping their heads down for exactly the same reason.

"Time," Spinnet said, most likely precisely ten minutes later. "Bring your books and gather in a circle."

"You're kidding me," Sirius said flatly. Then he looked, worriedly, at Lupin.

Lupin's chair made a horrible screeching sound as he pushed away from his desk, which seemed like a good sign of how he might feel about a repeat of the previous day's disastrous lesson.

"Uh oh," Sirius said quietly to Harry as they watched Lupin head to the front of the room with his chair and book.

Harry sighed.

It didn't surprise him at all when Professor Spinnet called for volunteers to begin a two-person debate.

When he saw her eyes stop on Gemma Gunther, who visibly cowered, Harry couldn't stop himself.

"Me, please, professor!"

Spinnet turned to look at him.

Harry's raised hand wavered and slowly lowered back to his lap. He felt like kicking himself.

By the time he had dragged his chair to the center of the circle, Spinnet had her second volunteer.

Harry eyed Lupin cautiously for signs of an impending outburst. Lupin's fingernails were leaving gouges in his book's soft leather cover, but he somehow managed to keep his voice steady and calm as he thanked Spinnet for choosing him.

Harry dared a glance at Sirius.

Sirius' expression suggested he wished he could climb under his desk again, but he gave Harry a small smile of encouragement.

"You are both in Slytherin House," Spinnet said, more to the entire class than to Harry and Lupin. "Historically, Slytherin families have favored separation of the Magical world from the Muggle world, to the exclusion of Muggleborn witches and wizards."

Harry found himself grinding his teeth. With great effort, he unclenched them.

"Based on what you have read, what arguments would you use to support the exclusion of Muggleborn children from a wizarding institution such as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"I wouldn't," Harry ground out, just about at the same time as Lupin snarled, "I'm half-blood."

There was a long moment of complete silence.

Spinnet looked undaunted. "How would a typical, pure-blood, Slytherin family...."

---

They avoided looking at the Slytherin hourglass as they passed through the Entrance Hall after Transfiguration class. Harry didn't particularly care if Slytherin won the House Cup that year, but he guessed seeing the thing completely empty would just make him angry all over again.

"Wanna skive off Potions?" Sirius suggested as Harry finished picking at his lunch and pushed his plate away.

Harry huffed irritably.

"Just a suggestion," Sirius said, shrugging innocently.

Lupin banged down his glass of pumpkin juice.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look.

"We have time to put our things away before we go to class," Harry said, looking past Lupin at the other Slytherins at the table. None of them were looking their way. "We can talk for a bit." He paused. "Let off some steam?"

"Calming draught?" Sirius added in the same innocent, teasing tone as before, but also with the same apprehensive look in his eyes.

Lupin stood up and stepped over the bench. "Let's go."

Harry looked behind them as they walked out of the Great Hall.

He caught a first year Gryffindor looking at him. The girl ducked her head as soon as their eyes met.

A few minutes later they were in their dungeon bedroom, Lupin slamming the door behind them and immediately beginning to pace in front of it.

"Calm down," Harry said worriedly.

"She doesn't know what she's doing!" Lupin exploded. "Or she does, and that's even worse!"

Harry and Sirius exchanged another look and somehow agreed to stay silent.

"Did you take a good look around in Transfiguration? Did you see?"

"I saw," Harry said quietly.

"That's her doing," Lupin ranted. "One lesson was all it took! I can't imagine what she's doing with the upper years. History repeating, she said... the nerve!"

"Calming draught?" Sirius said to Harry, this time without any humor.

Lupin snorted and fell silent, stopping his pacing but keeping his arms crossed over his chest.

"I agree, it was really awful," Harry said placatingly. Sometimes, just having Ron and Hermione agree with him was enough to make a difference when they were helpless to help in any other way.

Lupin didn't look like he felt any better. He was silent for a few minutes, before finally muttering, "We're going to be late to class."

They made their way to the Potions classroom, not speaking.

They were the last to arrive, and Snape glanced at the clock as they walked in. Luckily, they had a minute or two to spare.

Snape, Harry saw, hadn't lost his ability to see what others might miss. Where McGonagall had taught a full hour without Harry getting the sense that she noticed anything amiss, aside from the class being a bit subdued, Snape's narrowed eyes took in the students with a slow, calculating glance before he fixed Harry with a piercing look.

Harry stared back, not caring what Snape might see beyond what he was looking for, though he reckoned that at the moment his thoughts were too jumbled up to be of any use.

Snape's gaze moved onto Lupin.

Harry knew that Lupin was decent at Occlumency, but anyone who looked at Lupin just then would know he wasn't practicing it.

Snape's expression soured.

"I do not tolerate tardiness," Snape said in a low voice that suggested his words were only for their intended targets, but Harry knew he meant for the whole class to hear. Snape never did anything without causing the greatest amount of humiliation possible. "Stay after class."

Sirius opened his mouth, but Harry elbowed him in time to cut him off.

They moved into their partner groups. Harry was glad he was with Lupin; Sirius looked a bit dismayed as Noah Perkins backed away from him, squeaking pitifully when he backed into a wall. With a frown, Sirius moved his things a little closer to Harry and Lupin, giving Noah more space.

Harry could have sworn Snape was about to tell them to put their books away and rely on their notes as they brewed their potion, but at the last minute he seemed to change his mind.

"You may use all available resources to guide you through today's task," Snape said. With a wave of his wand, instructions appeared on the board. "You will learn that potions-making, while requiring precision and care, is as much an art as the highest forms of Transfiguration. A skilled Potioneer may, over a lifetime, develop a personal formula for nearly every potion regularly brewed. Only the most astute of you --" Snape's lips curled into a familiar sneer, "-- will notice any difference between what is on the board and what is in your book."

Harry, hoping it would give him time to calm himself, took up the challenge and started to compare Snape's instructions to those in the book.

"I don't see any difference," he muttered irritably a few minutes later.

"Stir twelve times instead of six and crush the thistles," Sirius said immediately, like he had just been waiting to show Harry up.

Harry stared at him, his irritation spiking. Sirius had said he was lousy at Potions. So had Lupin, though Harry would have at least expected Lupin to quickly solve the current puzzle, since it involved reading through instructions rather than actually brewing.

Examining the feeling, Harry decided he was definitely tired of being the worst at every subject.

Lupin looked up, a frown battling with curiosity on his face.

"I cheated," Sirius admitted with a grin. "It's in my book." He flipped his textbook around so it was facing Harry and Lupin. "Cheap git got us used books, remember?"

Harry, who hadn't been bothered by that fact when Snape had given them their textbooks, peered at the page.

Sirius' book was much more heavily annotated than Harry's was. There were notes in the margins, underlines, arrows, and whole sentences crossed out or inserted. Whomever had the book last must have been really into Potions.

"Oh," Harry said flatly.

Lupin gave the book a long, suspicious look, then turned and checked Snape's instructions on the board. He shook his head and went back to looking at his own notes without comment.

Something suddenly occurred to Harry. "Is that why you were making such a mess of your thistles yesterday?"

Sirius smirked at him. "We'll see who makes the better potion, won't we?"

"Don't listen to him, James," Lupin said irritably, pulling on Harry's sleeve. "He isn't in our group and he's welcome to risk his own grade if that's what he wants to do."

Harry, who didn't care either way, went to get their tray of ingredients.

Snape called for silence, so for the next half hour the only sound in the cavernous room was the bubbling of a dozen cauldrons.

Harry couldn't help noticing that most students took advantage of being able to use their books; hardly anyone bothered to use their notes from the previous class or to look up at the board. Unlike Sirius, of course, they didn't have Snape's special instructions written right in their textbook.

"Maybe we should do it the way Snape wrote it," Harry whispered to Lupin. He didn't want Sirius to catch Snape's ire all on his own.

Lupin gave him a withering look and propped up one of their textbooks in the center of the table, where both of them could see the instructions.

"It was just an idea," Harry said with another sigh. "Book it is."

Harry didn't see Sirius' potion until after Snape had them bottle their results. Standing in line behind Sirius, waiting his turn to set the flask on Snape's desk, Harry frowned at the dark blue liquid still bubbling a bit in the flask Sirius held. The potion Harry and Lupin had come up with was a lighter blue and didn't bubble. He was a little concerned about it, in fact, because it seemed to be congealing quickly.

Harry glanced around. The potions he could see in other students' hands were more or less just like his. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Being singled out by Snape in Potions class was still a bad memory, and he would rather avoid it... even for Sirius' sake.

"One point," Snape said to a pair of Hufflepuff girls who had partnered up for the assignment. "An average effort."

The girls seemed happy enough with that, and skipped off toward the door to wait for their Prefect to escort them to the next class.

"Half a point," Snape said to Edwin Cuthbert of Ravenclaw. "How did you come to forget to add the juice from the frog legs?"

Edwin, instead of answering, glanced over his shoulder at his partner, a Gryffindor boy, who had stayed behind to clean their table. He shrugged and stayed silent.

Snape waited.

After a few very uncomfortable minutes, Edwin's shoulders slumped. "I spilled it, sir. I didn't want my partner to get upset."

Snape fixed him with a sour look before motioning his dismissal. Edwin scurried away.

"Three points," Snape said, not losing his sour look as he held Sirius' potion up to the light.

Sirius gave Harry a triumphant grin before bounding away.

"One point," Snape said, barely sparing Harry's potion a glance before setting it with the other graded potions.

Harry, not sure if he was livid or relieved, walked away quickly.

He expected Sirius to be gloating, but by the time he reached their work area, Sirius was back to looking dejected. Harry looked around, and saw that Noah Perkins had hidden himself among the Hufflepuffs waiting in a huddle by the door, and was peeking at the three of them apprehensively, eyes wide.

The Prefects arrived to take the students to Charms. Harry, Lupin, and Sirius watched them go and waited for whatever Snape was going to do to them for their latest mishap.

The Potions door slammed behind the last student.

Harry swallowed and turned around to face Snape.

Snape glared down his nose at them, walking slowly down the isle with purposeful steps that echoed ominously in the otherwise silent room.

"She tried to turn everyone against Slytherins," Lupin said preemptively. Perhaps he realized how feeble the excuse sounded, because he looked down at his feet.

"Be that as it may," Snape said in a deadly tone, "I recall giving explicit instructions for you to keep your heads down. Yet I find you have single-handedly lost forty points for your House." Snape paused to look at them accusingly, perhaps suspecting they might have done so purposely. "Not to mention yet another detention."

Lupin drew a short breath. "I am sorry, really. But she shouldn't be allowed to do this."

"Of course not," Snape sneered. His glare pinned Harry, who knew the next words were meant for him. "No more than Dumbledore should have been allowed to strip Slytherin of an earned House Cup moments after it had been awarded."

Lupin and Sirius both frowned, not understanding.

"Now that you are in Slytherin," Snape continued, "you had best expect to be treated less than fairly and undermined in both subtle and blatant ways. Do you forget that as far as the other Houses are concerned, Slytherin was on the wrong side of the war?"

They all shook their heads, but Lupin made another effort to argue.

"The First Years were getting along until she started in on us. It was a move in the right direction. It was good for the school."

Snape glared at him until Lupin had ducked his head again. "The school is not your concern at the moment. You will desist from antagonizing Spinnet and drawing attention to yourselves, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Lupin mumbled, keeping his eyes down.

"I will not intervene this time," Snape said coldly. "You will all serve detention with Filch tonight at eight. Come. I will take you to your next class, as you cannot be trusted to do even that much on your own."

Harry, who had been looking forward to Charms, found his feet dragging as they fell in line behind Snape.

He had the terrible feeling Lupin wasn't going to let matters lie, and even worse, Harry was more or less sure he wasn't going to be able to keep himself from jumping into the fray as well. Harry didn't know what they could do, but the alternative was to sit around and do nothing while the other three Houses turned against them. Wouldn't that draw just as much attention to them?

He couldn't help feeling like everything was falling into the usual pattern again. Adults never helped, no matter how serious the problem was. It was either try to solve the problem yourself and suffer the consequences of breaking rules in the process, or do nothing and suffer anyway.

Snape gave them a push into the Charms classroom, motioned to Flitwick to indicate the students were late on his account, and left them with one final warning glare.

They found seats in the back. Those seats were next to Juliette Tate and Wilma Sallinger, the two Slytherin girls, who looked away quickly when Harry tried to smile at them.

Harry looked around while digging in his book bag for a quill and parchment.

The classroom was divided into fourths just as surely as if there were lines drawn across the floor. Ravenclaws sat in front, followed by Gryffindors on the right and Hufflepuffs on the left.

Harry slumped in his seat and forced himself to focus on Flitwick's introductory speech, but his heart just wasn't in it.