"I am grateful for your efforts to protect Harry," Minerva remarked. "I'm sure you will provide for him adequately. . .certainly far better than his relatives ever have. I just wish you could tell us a bit more about your destination."

Severus frowned at her probing stare. . .a stare that was blatantly repeated by their other two companions. He glanced around the secluded room to reaffirm their privacy. It was a small, intimate place, discretely out of sight off a back alley. As many times as he had visited Hogsmeade, he had never noticed the tiny teashop before, and he approved Minerva's prudent choice for their meeting. The few customers in the shop had paid them no attention, and the private room and their silencing spells ensured secrecy. Severus sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "We will be taking refuge in a home belonging to a friend of mine."

"A friend?" Filius looked mildly disturbed. "Is it anyone we know?"

Severus shook his head. "None of you know him. . .no one at Hogwarts has ever met him. In fact, no one of my acquaintance knows him."

"Are you certain?"

"Positive. I have taken great pains to ensure this," he smirked slightly and sipped his tea. "I have known since I graduated from Hogwarts that the time might come when I may have need of a safe place to. . . disappear. This refuge is one of several I have. . .collected. . .as future sanctuaries. I have never revealed the locations of these safe havens to anyone - not even Albus."

"Will your ‘friend' be there? Will he see Harry? Is it safe for him to know the boy's whereabouts?" Minerva queried anxiously.

"My friend has several homes. . ." Severus shrugged. "I don't know if he will be there, but if he should make an appearance, it will not place Potter in any danger - that I can guarantee with absolute assurance."

He studied their dubious expressions. "Where I am taking the boy, he will be completely safe. You will simply have to rely on me in this." When his reassurances failed to erase all of their visible concern he continued somewhat sullenly. "In addition to some rather extraordinary protective wards, both Potter and I will be disguised. We will be unrecognizable."

"A glamour?" Filius asked with a frown.

"Partly. . . with a few potions and a touch of Muggle deception thrown in," he smirked evilly. "I have had considerable practice - as well as motive - to perfect the art of camouflage. Once we are transformed, Mr. Potter and I could join you all for tea and not one of you would identify us. Trust me - I am quite good at such things."

"I hope you won't be too remote. It will be hard for the child to be away from his friends, without even the opportunity to write to them," Pomona fretted.

Severus snorted rudely. The plump Hufflepuff was true to her House....irredeemably soft-hearted. "We will not be utterly isolated. I have no intention of stranding us on a deserted island - nor will I lock the brat up in a barren dungeon!" he snarled. "I will ensure the boy has suitable companionship. . . possibly even children his own age. . .the surrounding community should safely provide the opportunity for whatever contact and amusements the boy requires."

He held up a hand to forestall whatever ludicrous thought was gleaming in Minerva's bright eyes. "That does not mean I intend to spend my time entertaining the brat! I will not allow him to fritter away his summer. More than anything, the boy needs structure in his life. He needs security. . . the security of order, and the safety of authority from an adult he trusts. I intend to see he receives that structure. He will have a reasonable schedule of summer study and a few light chores to teach him responsibility." He sneered at Pomona's grimace of dismay. "However," he continued stiffly, "I recognize that a child needs time to . . .relax. To engage in recreation," his lips curled around the word disdainfully. "I will ensure he is allowed time for such pursuits, as well as a suitable amount of fresh air and exercise. Now, does this program meet with your approval, or would any of you care to continue to interrogate me and question my ability to care for one small, annoying twelve-year-old boy?!" Severus growled impatiently. There was a long pause.

"I have every confidence that Harry will receive the best of care in your custody, Severus," Minerva replied softly and firmly. Their companions agreed with some chagrin.

"Of course, Severus."

"Oh yes, the best of care!"

"My largest concern is keeping my actions hidden from Albus," Severus continued, somewhat mollified.

"I think your plan is inspired," Filius remarked. "I see no problem with Mrs. Figg or the Muggles. I fear the real danger of disclosure may come from us." He studied Severus face with keen intent. "Do you wish to reduce the risk by Oblivating us?"

Severus grimaced. "It is not my desire, no. I don't object to memory charms on Muggles...I recognize the necessity at times. But I find it distasteful to advocate such methods with my. . . .colleagues," he admitted uncomfortably. "It suggests a certain lack of trust, that is neither appropriate nor valid."

"We appreciate your reluctance, Severus," Minerva replied with a small smile. "But we must place Harry's welfare above our own discomfort. If it is necessary, then I am sure no one will reproach you."

"Perhaps it won't be necessary," Filius said thoughtfully. "There may be other precautions we can take." He nibbled at a tea cake while the others waited patiently, giving the tiny Charms Professor time to sort his thoughts. They were all aware that Filius Flitwick had a shrewd and penetrating mind. . .he was not the Head of Ravenclaw by accident. Filius stroked his chin pensively. "We must keep Harry's location secret for six weeks, yes?"

"Possibly less," Minerva interjected. "The Weasleys have invited Harry to spend some time with them at the end of summer." Severus glanced up sharply at this. He had not heard this news before. "I haven't spoken to Albus yet, due to these unexpected developments, of course. . ." Minerva continued. "But I'm fairly certain I could convince him to allow Harry to visit the Burrow - perhaps the last two weeks prior to the beginning of term." She smirked grimly. "Considering the poor boy's misfortunes, I daresay Albus feels far too guilty at the moment to deny the boy a chance to be with his friends."

"Excellent," Filius nodded in satisfaction. "That reduces the amount of time we must maintain our subterfuge, to four weeks." He glanced up at the Deputy Headmistress. "We need not worry about you, Minerva. As an Animagus, you seem to have your own unique methods for protecting your thoughts - and of course, as Severus' contact, you must retain your memories of this." He nodded again. "Although I am no expert Occlumens, with the help of a little misdirection, I think I am sufficiently skilled to avoid revealing anything to Albus." He turned and smiled at Pomona. "What about you, dear?"

Pomona shrugged sadly. "Sorry. I never studied Occlumency. I can certainly avoid saying anything indiscrete, but I can't protect my thoughts if Albus should go looking. I can't imagine why he would - but still, there is a risk. Perhaps you should perform a memory charm on me after all," she sighed.

Severus studied the plump Professor broodingly. "Perhaps not. Have you ever considered trying to learn Occlumency, Pomona?"

"Not until this moment," Pomona replied dryly. "Now I wish I had. I would prefer to be an asset to our little cause - not a liability."

"If I volunteered to teach you - would you be willing to try?"

"Absolutely," she agreed promptly. "But that takes time. . . how do we protect my thoughts in the meantime?"

"Temporarily remove them from danger," Filius grinned suddenly.

"A temporary memory charm?" Pomona wrinkled her pug nose in uncertainty.

"No dear lady!" Filius chortled. "Remove you." He laughed at her confusion. "Pomona - you rarely take your full leave - no one can pry you away from your precious greenhouses long enough! How many weeks of leave have you accumulated over the last fifteen years?"

The Herbology professor pondered his question, turning slightly pink. "Uhmm... eighteen weeks?" she offered timidly.

"Eighteen weeks! Good heavens!" Minerva cried. "I had no idea! If I had known, I would have insisted you take more time off! You are entitled to your leave, Pomona!"

"I know," Pomona admitted sheepishly. "But Hogwarts is my home. And I haven't felt the need or desire to leave it since...well, since Herbert died, you know. . . except for a week or two each summer to visit my brother and his family, of course."

"Well I think it's time you paid a visit to your brother, Pomona," Filius scolded merrily. "A nice long visit. . .say - four weeks?"

Pomona's face lit with understanding. "Ahh! But of course! Do you think that would be all right, Minerva?"

"It's perfect!"

Pomona's chubby face darkened. "But...my greenhouses! It's such a long time to neglect them!"

"Put them in stasis - like you do when you leave for a week or two," Filius suggested cheerfully. "They'll be fine. You can return when Harry has been moved to the Burrow, and have two weeks to sort things out before term begins."

"All right," Pomona agreed thoughtfully. "I suppose that will do. And it is for Harry's sake, after all."

"That's all settled then," Filius rubbed his stubby little hands together with cheerful satisfaction.

"Filius Flitwick!" Minerva suddenly admonished with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I do believe you are enjoying our little conspiracy!"

"Must you call it that?" Pomona scolded uncomfortably. "It's such a nefarious term."

"But that is precisely what this is," Severus replied harshly. He frowned at each of them. "We mustn't fool ourselves. . .regardless of our motives, what we are proposing to do here, is very serious." He watched as the truth of his warning affected each of his companions. "We are conspiring to abduct the Boy-Who-Lived from his legal guardians. We are agreeing to deliberately deceive the Headmaster, and conceal the child's whereabouts," he stated grimly. "Make no mistake about it. . .the consequences, if we are caught, could be severe. We risk more here than the loss of our positions. If prosecuted, I could be convicted of kidnapping. . .that is an unpardonable offense with only one possible verdict - a lifetime sentence in Azkaban. Each of you who assists me, would be guilty of, at the least, aiding and abetting a felonious crime." He paused a moment, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in, then continued quietly. "I say this only to make you think about what you are committing yourselves to. For myself, I have no other choice. I am sworn to protect Harry Potter. . .and I will face whatever risk that vow requires. But the rest of you. . .you do not need to become involved. The wisest course for all of you is to allow me to Oblivate you, and extract yourselves from this business before it's too late."

Minerva's brogue, thick with repressed passion, broke the long silence that followed his cold lecture. "Oh, no you don't, Severus Snape!" she declared adamantly. "You'll play no martyr for my sake. I told you before - I'll not see that child sacrificed to those horrid Muggles. I'll do whatever it takes - regardless of the risks - to protect that boy. That, my dear Severus, is my vow."

"And mine as well," Filius added firmly.

"And mine," Pomona agreed somberly.

Severus studied the determined faces of his companions. "Very well, then," he said, hoping his hoarse voice did not reveal his suddenly strong emotions. He raised his teacup in a wry salute and cocked a brow. "To conspiracy."

"To conspiracy!" his colleagues quietly echoed the toast.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Severus glanced down curiously at the solemn boy who walked along beside him in companionable silence. As soon as they exited the castle and began to stroll down to the lake, he had fully expected the child to chatter and bounce about as boys his age were wont to do. But Harry had shown no interest in running off, and had thankfully not insisted on maintaining the steady stream of frivolous chitchat that most children seemed addicted to. Although the boy had appeared genuinely delighted at the chance to leave the Infirmary, his initial excitement had diminished significantly as Severus had escorted him through the nearly deserted castle and onto the grounds. Severus began to wonder if the outing had been a mistake. He cleared his throat hesitantly.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine."

Severus studied him surreptitiously as they walked. "Are you weary? Do you wish to return to the Infirmary?"

"Oh no, sir. I'm not tired." Potter glanced up at him shyly. "May we walk a little further?"

Severus nodded and paced slowly, careful to adjust his stride to the boy's smaller steps so as not to rush him. The boy remained gravely silent.

Oh, hell. This must be one of those emotional things. . . the boy is depressed - understandably, I suppose.

He sighed gloomily, and led the boy to the lakeside, pausing to look out over the sparkling water. The boy said nothing, but after a moment, he stooped to retrieve several small stones. He straightened and began skipping the stones across the water's surface with some skill.

Why must all little boys do that? What pleasure can they derive from throwing stones into water, for Merlin's sake? Is this some sort of boyhood ritual that I missed out on? Seems rather pointless to me.

As if the boy had divined his disapproval, Harry stopped throwing the stones and sat down on a nearby boulder, staring into the water. Feeling rather awkward just standing there, Severus finally moved to sit beside him. He watched Harry, who was watching a swarm of fat tadpoles squirming about in the mud at the water's edge.

I suppose he's wishing he could collect the silly things in a jar. Isn't that what little boys do? Collect tadpoles in jars and take them home? Dear Merlin - I hope he doesn't drag in all manner of wildlife this summer!. . .unless, of course, they're useful for potions.

"Where is their mother?"

The boy's soft query startled Severus, and he stared at the boy in bewilderment. "Whose mother?"

"The tadpoles," Harry answered evenly. He pointed at the wriggling swarm. "There's so many of them. But you never see their parents nearby - you don't see the grownup frogs looking out for them, or anything."

Severus frowned. Don't they teach even basic biology in Muggle schools anymore? "Adult frogs don't raise their young."

"They don't?"

"No. The female lays her eggs in the mud, then she swims off, and leaves them to hatch on their own."

"She doesn't take care of them? Protect them?" Harry stared up at him with a small frown. "What keeps other animals from eating them?"

"Nothing. Fish and birds eat many of the eggs. . .and the tadpoles too, when they hatch. That's why the female produces hundreds of eggs. . .so a few, at least, may be lucky enough to survive to adulthood." Harry blinked at him. "It's a question of odds, you see," Severus explained, feeling strangely foolish.

"Oh." Harry looked back down at the tadpoles with a disapproving frown. "That's harsh," he commented softly.

"Yes."

Severus settled himself more comfortably on the smooth boulder warmed by the afternoon sun. Harry pulled up his knees and draped his arms around them. He lifted his head and stared out, unseeing at the water.

This is not good. First he is depressed. Now he's confronting the cruelty of nature. . .mothers abandoning their young to fate. . .not a very comforting analogy. I guess I should say something. . .but what?

"Harry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you. . . disturbed?"

"Sir?" The boy looked at him affronted, as if Severus had declared him mentally unbalanced.

"You seem rather quiet," Severus hastened to explain. "You were excited to leave the Infirmary, but now you seem less. . .enthusiastic. Are you troubled about anything?"

Harry dropped his gaze to his knees and shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Is. . .is there anything you wish to talk about?"

The boy tilted his head and peered cautiously up at him through his messy fringe of hair. "Like what?"

All right. We're going to be deliberately obtuse, are we? Very well.

"Like - your relatives, for example?" Let's go right for the gold, shall we?

Harry scowled and ducked his head. "Who wants to talk about them?" he snarled softly.

"You really need to, you know," Severus urged.

"Why?" the boy snapped petulantly. "I finally get to come outside, and it's a nice day and everything. . .why ruin it by talking about them?"

Severus chose to ignore the irritating whine that had crept into the boy's voice. Patience.

"We don't have to discuss it now, if you don't wish to," Severus agreed calmly. "But we will need to discuss it eventually, Harry."

"Why?" Harry grumbled. "Why can't we just drop it!"

"You want the nightmares to stop, don't you Harry?"

"Wha...?" The boy's head shot up and he gaped at Severus in alarm. "What. . .what nightmares?" he stammered. "I don't have nightmares."

Severus eyed him skeptically.

"I don't!" Harry shouted stubbornly, a flush of pink creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. "Only little kids have those! Who said I have nightmares?"

"I have watched you sleep for two nights, Harry. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I. . .I don't! I. . .I talk in my sleep sometimes! It doesn't mean anything! You. . ." the boy floundered, overcome by embarrassment. "Why are you watching me sleep, anyway? That's creepy!" he hissed in fury.

Too upset. Back off.

"All right, Harry. Never mind. We can talk about it later."

The boy turned his head away and hugged his knees, his small body tightened into a tense ball.

"Calm yourself, Harry," Severus softened his voice to its silkiest croon. "It's all right. I said we don't have to talk about it now."

After several minutes, Harry's frame relaxed a bit, the tension slowly easing. "I don't have nightmares," he muttered sullenly under his breath.

"All right, Harry."

Severus gave him several more minutes to compose himself, then rose to his feet. "Would you like to walk a little more, or would you prefer to return to the castle?" He waited patiently while the boy considered his response.

"Could we. . .I mean, I'd like to walk some more - if you don't mind, sir." Harry stood and faced him awkwardly. "I'm sorry I yelled," he murmured uneasily.

"It's all right."

"It wasn't very polite, " the boy admitted.

No, it wasn't. If term were in session, I'd dock points, little lion.

"You were upset," Severus replied. "Let's walk down to the Quidditch pitch, shall we?"

Ah, Severus! You're going soft, you hopeless git!

The boy followed him wordlessly, lost in thought.

Anyone glancing out of a castle window might have been amused at the sight. . .the tall, imposing Potions Master, stalking slowly across the grounds, his billowing black robes out of place in the hot summer sun. And beside him, matching him stride for stride - a skinny boy, too small for his twelve years, in a tattered t-shirt and raggedy jeans. To most they would appear an odd pair. . .but to those with true insight, there was something visibly honest and content in their silent companionship.