"What?"

Harry stared at Ron, unable to wrap his brain around what his friend had just said.

"Well, it's just..." Ron looked down and pulled at the sleeves of his nightshirt. "I mean, you just said that you were the snake, Harry. So, um, I think maybe it would be best if you didn't..."

"Come with you." Harry finished.

Ron nodded.

The two teenagers were standing a few feet away from Dumbledore's desk, waiting for Fred, George, and Ginny to arrive. Harry looked over at the headmaster, wishing that he would intervene. But the aged wizard was still examining that mysterious silver instrument.

Not that he'd come within twenty feet of me, anyway. Harry thought bitterly.

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the top of Ron's head, willing his friend to just look at him. But Ron would not.

What do you expect? Harry asked himself. Of course he doesn't want you near his family right now. Not when there's more than a slight chance that you just attacked his dad.

"Yeah, I understand." Harry heard himself say.

Ron lifted his head ever so slightly.

"Really?" There was a cautious note in his voice, as if he expected Harry to go off on another verbal rampage.

"Really."

Ron looked Harry in the face and sighed in obvious relief. "Thanks, mate. I mean, I don't really think that you attacked Dad. But, you know, just in case..."

"Yeah," Harry hugged himself tighter, "Just in case."

Ron looked like he was about to speak again, but then the door opened, and McGonagall ushered the twins and Ginny inside.

Harry gazed intently out the window while Dumbledore informed the younger Weasleys of the attack on their father. The headmaster neatly omitted any mention of Harry's dream, and Harry certainly did not feel inclined to further enlighten Ron's siblings. Instead, he focused on being as silent and unnoticeable as possible. It was only when Dumbledore was gathering them around the Portkey that Harry finally looked at them all and spoke.

"I'm not going."

Ron blushed, Ginny removed her hand from the Portkey, and the twins exchanged looks of surprise. Dumbledore glanced meaningfully at the door from which McGonagall had just exited.

"I am afraid we do not have time for this, Harry."

"I'm not going." Harry repeated. He pressed his fingertips painfully into his upper arms and prayed that Dumbledore would not ask for an explanation. A few moments passed, and then Harry's prayers were answered in the affirmative when Dumbledore murmured,

"So be it."

Harry drifted back into the shadows as his friends grasped the Portkey again. They glanced back at him uncertainly while Dumbledore counted. Was it his imagination, or did Fred look ready to grab Harry and force his hand onto the Portkey?

"Three." Dumbledore finished counting, and Harry watched as the four Weasleys disappeared in a swirl of color.

The headmaster gazed for a moment upon the spot where four of his students had just been standing. Then, without so much as glancing at Harry, he walked behind his desk, settled into the chair, and began reading a lengthy roll of parchment.

Harry relaxed his grip on his arms and stepped forward, lips already forming his first question.

"I suggest you exercise caution when returning to your quarters, Harry." Dumbledore said without looking up. "It would be most unfortunate if you were to encounter Professor Umbridge at this late hour."

"But, Professor-"

"Professor McGonagall is quite skilled in diversionary tactics," Dumbledore interrupted, "But I fear even she will find it difficult to distract Professor Umbridge for much longer."

Suddenly, Harry was livid, and his scar burned as if it was being branded into his flesh. Oh, what Harry would have given just then to be the snake from his dream! How he yearned for fangs with which to kill the meddlesome old man before him!

"Goodnight, Harry."

Then the rage was gone as suddenly as it had come. The searing pain in Harry's forehead rapidly dulled to a mild prickling sensation. Startled and sickened, the boy wizard turned on his heel and fled the headmaster's office.

Albus had stopped pretending to read once Harry left his office and was gazing out the window when Minerva returned.

"That woman" The elderly witch fumed upon entering "is, without a doubt, one of the vilest human beings I have ever met!" She strode over to the desk and spoke to Albus's reflection. "I don't suppose that the famous Defense Against the Dark Arts curse has ever manifested itself midyear?"

Albus smiled faintly. "Not to date, Minerva."

"Well, one can always hope." Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "The children are with Sirius now, I suppose?"

"The Weasley children are." Albus answered. "Harry has elected to remain at Hogwarts."

Minerva dropped down into one of the visitors' chairs and groaned. "Why, Albus? Why would he do such a thing?"

Albus had his suspicions, but he did not wish to elaborate on them just yet. So he merely shrugged and said, "I cannot be certain what his reasons were, Minerva. However, it does appear that he will be spending the Christmas holidays alone for the first time in four years. Mr. Weasley will obviously not be returning before the end of term, and I believe that Miss Granger will be engaging in some quaint Muggle sport with her family. Skiing, I believe they call it."

"What will the boy do here over the holidays?" Minerva fretted. "You know it will only be a matter of time before he violates one of Dolores's edicts. Merlin knows he's inspired a great many of them." She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair for a long moment, apparently in thought. When she spoke again, it was with a barely detectable amount of reluctance. "I suppose I could cancel my trip. Then I'll be here to supervise Potter."

"That will not be necessary, Minerva." Albus responded. "I know how anxious you've been to visit your sister and her family. Besides, Dolores is not the only professor planning to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays."

"But you've already said that you cannot be around Potter, so I fail to see how you can adequately supervise him."

"This is quite true." Albus concurred. Then he smiled. "However, I was actually referring to Severus."

Severus Snape had spent much of the previous night bent over a cauldron in his quarters, brewing an extremely complex potion. Consequently, his back ached horribly, and a headache was slowly blooming behind his eyes.

Despite this, the man was almost smiling as he strode to the Great Hall for breakfast. Severus was so cheerful, in fact, that he did not glare as ferociously as he normally would have when two Hufflepuff girls, no doubt in a hurry to finish packing for the holidays, collided with him in the hallway. Of course, even half a glare from Severus Snape was enough to frighten most people, and one of the girls immediately began to cry. The other girl paled and began pulling her friend down the hall. Severus smirked as he watched them scurry away, then walked into the Great Hall.

The Potions Master had barely settled into his seat when Filius Flitwick attempted to engage him in conversation.

"Are you looking forward to the holidays, Severus?"

"Why, yes, Flitwick," Severus answered as he poured himself a goblet of pumpkin juice, "I am. In fact, I have already commenced with spreading holiday cheer."

"Really?" Filius blinked in momentary surprise, then beamed up at his colleague. "How wonderful!"

"Indeed." Severus spread a cloth napkin over his lap. "I do so enjoy making Hufflepuffs cry."

Filius sniffed and looked away. He did not speak to Severus for the rest of the meal. This was just fine with Severus, who did not enjoy engaging in what he considered idle conversation.

Traditionally, most Hogwarts students tended to spend their last morning before the holidays frantically packing and bidding farewell to their friends. Thus, the Great Hall was less than halfway full at the moment. As Severus ate, he looked around the hall and noted the absence of one student in particular.

Well, well, He thought with a smirk, it appears that my Potter-free holidays have begun even earlier than expected!

While Severus viewed Christmas itself with something less than eager anticipation, he did enjoy the break from teaching that the holiday brought. He had always remained at Hogwarts over the winter break, and was usually the professor most often asked to patrol the corridors for errant students. However, as not many students typically stayed over the break, this task was not difficult. This had changed when Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts. One look at the son of James Potter, and Severus knew that he would be spending the next seven winter breaks chasing after the brat. When he learned that Potter had already befriended one of the Weasley children, Severus had wondered how far in advance he could book a room at St. Mungo's.

Thus, Severus had been most pleased to learn that Potter would be spending this winter break with the Weasleys. Draco Malfoy and his minions, Crabbe and Goyle, would also be absent from Hogwarts. In fact, the only students on the roster to remain at the school were four first-year Hufflepuffs, a third-year Ravenclaw, and one seventh-year Slytherin. The Hufflepuffs were terrified of Severus, the Ravenclaw student would most likely spend the holidays sequestered in the library, and the Slytherin certainly knew better than to cross his Head of House. It was, Severus thought as he consumed the last bit of his toast, shaping up to be quite a peaceful break.

Then Dobby appeared.

Looking back, Severus supposed he should have known that his troubles would start with a house-elf. It was common knowledge that he did not like the creatures. In fact, Severus did not know what he loathed most about them. Was it their squeaky voices? Their painful enthusiasm? Their atrocious grammar?

"Professor Snape, sir!" Dobby squeaked. "Professor Dumbledore is wanting you in his office right away, sir!"

Severus stood up with a sneer and followed Dobby out of the Great Hall. He strode to the Headmaster's office, but kept having to stop as the house-elf wove an uneven path before him.

"Perhaps you wish to return to the kitchens" Severus finally suggested in a silky tone. "Since I do, in actual fact, remember the way to the Headmaster's office."

The elf looked up at him, gulped, and disappeared with a POP. Severus could finally increase his pace, and he quickly arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He uttered the password ("Chocolate Frogs") with a role of his eyes, stood on the spiral staircase as it ascended, and walked briskly into the office. Minerva and Albus were standing in front of the desk and gazing at him expectantly.

"You wished to see me, Albus?"

"Yes, Severus." Albus affirmed. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"The house-elf indicated that you required my immediate presence." Severus replied with a frown.

"Indeed." Albus said. "But you needn't look so worried, Severus. I merely wished to provide you with the most recent list of students who will be remaining at Hogwarts over the holidays."

He removed a roll of parchment and held it out. Severus took the proffered document and tucked it into a pocket of his robes.

"Thank you, Albus. If that is all-"

"You should look at the list now, Severus." Minerva advised. "There is an addition to it that we will need to discuss."

Severus sighed, retrieved the parchment, and unfurled it. There were now seven names on the list instead of six. One name in particular immediately caught his eye, and Severus knew that the peaceful break he had been anticipating was never to be. He had to take several deep breaths before he could look up at the Headmaster.

"Perhaps you would care to explain to me" Severus said in a silky whisper "why Potter's name is on this list?"

"Of course, Severus." Albus gestured to a chair. "Please sit."

"I think not."

"As you wish." He walked around the desk and settled into his own chair. "Please forgive an old man for resting his tired feet."

The look on Severus's face indicated that he was not especially inclined to forgive Albus much of anything at the moment. Minerva chose to sit, as well, and Severus was now left feeling distinctly out of place. Well, no matter. He glowered down at them both and waited.

"Arthur Weasley was attacked last night, Severus." Albus began. "He was on official business for the Order."

Severus considered that for a moment. "Do you believe the Dark Lord responsible?" He asked.

"We know that Lord Voldemort did not attack Arthur directly." Albus answered. "He sent his snake into the area that Arthur was guarding."

"Nagini."

"Yes, and it was she who attacked Arthur."

Severus suppressed a shudder. He was not afraid of snakes in the least. How could he be, and still be a Slytherin! But the image of being attacked by one the size of Nagini was far from appealing.

"Is Weasley alright?" Severus queried.

"We do not know." Albus replied. "Luckily, he was found before he lost too much blood. He was taken to St. Mungo's for treatment. The Weasley children left last night to be closer to the hospital."

Severus nodded. There was a moment of silence during which, he was sure, Albus and Minerva joined him in wishing for Arthur Weasley's recovery. Severus did not care for many people, and he certainly had little love for the mischievous Weasley offspring. But he did not wish death upon any of them. Besides, Arthur's connections to the Ministry were invaluable to the Order.

Minerva cleared her throat, and Severus looked at her. She nodded toward the list in his hands. Ah, yes...

"Forgive me, Albus," Severus said, "But I still do not understand why Potter is staying here over the holidays. I thought he was spending the break with the Weasleys. Surely they would still welcome him."

"I have no doubt that they would." Albus agreed. "However, Harry has elected to remain at Hogwarts."

"Why?" Severus asked. Other than to completely ruin my holiday, he added silently.

"I cannot be sure. I know that Harry and Ronald Weasley conversed briefly before the Weasley children departed. However, I confess that I was a bit preoccupied at the time, and did not hear much of their conversation."

Severus did not miss the fact that Albus was only unsure of Potter's reasons for staying. Clearly, the man had some theories on the matter, and Albus's theories were usually proven correct. However, the Headmaster was obviously not willing to disclose anymore than he already had, so Severus returned to the issue at hand: Potter's presence at Hogwarts over the winter break.

"I suppose you wish me to prevent the boy from getting into danger, Albus?"

Albus smiled. "That would be most gracious of you, Severus."

Minerva snorted, perhaps thinking that the word "gracious" was not one typically used to describe Severus Snape. Severus took a moment to give his colleague the infamous Snape Sneer before responding to Albus.

"And I suppose that Potter is still in possession of that infernal Invisibility Cloak?"

"He is."

"Jolly." Severus muttered. "So, it is to be Christmas as usual for me, then?"

"Not quite, my dear boy." Albus answered. "You see, there is still the presence of Dolores Umbridge to consider."

"We believe that it is best to keep Potter away from her as much as possible." Minerva added. "She knows that Potter is loyal to Albus, and she may see Albus's upcoming absence as a chance to corner Potter for information. Or she may pass another edict for Potter to break." This last was said with a definite snarl.

Severus stared at Albus. "Your ‘upcoming absence?'" He repeated.

"I have matters of a personal nature to attend to, Severus." Albus replied. "I will be leaving Hogwarts tomorrow and do not expect to return until Christmas Eve."

"I see. And what does any of this have to do with my handling of Potter over the holidays?"

"I fear, Severus, that it will not be enough for you to try and catch Harry out of bed at night. You will need to keep an eye on him during the day, as well. You must ensure that Dolores does not have the opportunity to be alone with him."

This was said quite calmly, as if Albus had not just set an impossible task. Everyone knew that Dolores Umbridge was, to use a Muggle phrase, gunning for Potter. The two were bound to encounter one another at some point, and it was not a guarantee that Severus would always be present to intervene. Unless...

"You expect me to spend every minute of the day watching Potter!"

"Not every minute, Severus." Albus responded sedately. "You are certainly free to sleep and take, ah, personal breaks as needed."

The Potions Master stared at his colleagues. Minerva met his glare with a stern expression, but Albus's eyes were actually twinkling. Apoplectic, Severus stuffed the offensive list back into his robe, whirled on his heel, and strode from the office. He had just reached the door when Albus called out to him.

"Happy Christmas, Severus!"

Severus whipped his head around and snarled, "Your gift is going back tomorrow!" Then he hurried down the stairs and to his living quarters, fuming all the way at the destruction of his perfect holiday.

Once she was informed of the attack on Mr. Weasley and learned that Harry had not left Hogwarts with Ron and his siblings, Hermione felt it incumbent upon herself to march up to Gryffindor Tower and demand an explanation from Harry.

“Are you mad?” She exclaimed as soon as she entered the room.

Harry, who had been pretending to sleep while his roommates packed, sat up in bed and put on his glasses.

“What?”

Hermione strode across the empty room and came to stand beside his bed, then put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“Dumbledore says you’re staying here for the holidays.”

“You spoke to Dumbledore?” Harry asked. He sat up straighter and looked anxiously at his friend. “How is Mr. Weasley?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t know yet.” Hermione answered with a frown. Worried more than angry now, she dropped her hands to her sides and gazed pleadingly at Harry. “Ron’s our friend, Harry, and he needs us now. Both of us.”

“Hermione-”

“Come on, Harry. I’ll help you pack, and then you can still make the train to London. I’m meeting my parents there to tell them that I’m not going skiing, and then we can go to Sirius’s house together.”

It was a tempting offer, and Harry was on the verge of agreeing. Then he remembered being inside the snake, and Mr. Weasley’s cries of pain, and the look on Ron’s face when he asked Harry to stay behind.

I was the snake. Harry thought. Ron’s right to be afraid of me, and to not want me near his family right now. After all, if it was my dad who’d been attacked…

“Harry?”

He looked up at Hermione and shook his head. “Thanks, Hermione, but I’m not going.”

Hermione studied him for a moment. Then her face took on a look of fierce determination, and she reached down and tugged on Harry’s arm.

“Yes, you are.” She tugged harder. “Now get up and get ready. I’ll pack for you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Harry jerked his arm away and screamed up at Hermione. “I SAID NO!”

Hermione stepped back, looking suddenly fearful. “But, Harry-”

He took a deep breath and, with great effort, lowered his voice to a snarl. “I’m not going, so you can just get out.”

Tears slipping down her cheeks, Hermione nodded and backed away. “Alright, Harry.” She walked slowly to the door, then turned and whispered. “Happy Christmas.”

Harry turned his back and watched her reflection in the window. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then bit her lip, turned, and walked out the door.

Harry removed his glasses, lay back down, and continued to stare out the window. He could tell that it would be another beautiful, snowy day at Hogwarts, but he did not care. He had no intentions of leaving the room anytime soon. Harry closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to ceaselessly wonder what was happening to him.

It was eleven o’clock before Severus was calm enough to emerge from his quarters and seek out his least favorite student. The halls were empty, and the heavy silence was broken only by the sound of the Potion Master’s steps. After failing to locate Potter in any of his usual haunts, Severus stalked to Gryffindor Tower, scowling the entire way. The Fat Lady was sleeping, and Severus had to yell out the password Minerva had given him several times before she awoke and granted him access.

It took Severus about two seconds to determine that Potter was not in the common room. Groaning, he realized that he would actually have to enter the boy’s sleeping quarters.

“Why is it always me?” Severus muttered as he strode up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. He had to open several doors before he found a room that appeared to still be inhabited. There was a large lump under the covers of one bed. As Severus walked into the room, the lump moved slightly. Severus sneered.

“Get up, Potter.”

Harry was reliving, yet again, the scene from his nightmare when he heard footsteps outside his room. He tensed. There were no other Gryffindors staying over the holidays, so who could be walking around the dormitory? He heard the door open a second later, then someone enter the room. Who could it be?

I bet it’s Hermione. Harry thought angrily. He burrowed further under the covers and glowered. Probably decided to stay here and give me another lecture.

“Get up, Potter.”

Harry’s anger was very quickly replaced with dread. He knew that voice, but never before had he heard it in Gryffindor Tower. He sat up, put on his glasses, and blinked rapidly in horror at the sight of Snape sneering at him.

“What?”

“You heard me, Potter.” Snape said. “Or is eleven o’clock in the morning too early for you to comprehend plain English?”

Harry’s instinctive dislike of the man kicked in, and he scowled. Snape arched a brow.

“Unless you wish me to remove you from that bed, Mr. Potter, I would suggest you obey me immediately.”

Since Harry did not want to be hauled out of bed like a child by anyone, least of all by Snape, he threw back the covers and got out of bed. The two studied one another for a long moment.

“Get dressed, Potter,” Snape finally said, “And meet me in the common room.”

“Sir, why-”

“You have five minutes.” Snape interrupted. “Do not make me come back up here.” With that, the man turned and stalked from the room.

Harry stared after him and groaned. “And I thought having Hermione stay would be bad.” He stomped around the room, gathering up clothes and yanking them on. Harry dreaded going downstairs and dealing with Snape again, but he also knew that Snape did not make idle threats and would return to the room if Harry did not obey. What would happen then was too dire to even consider, so Harry quickly combed his hair and raced to the common room.

Snape was standing at the notice board. Harry could only see his profile, but that was enough to know that the man was less than amused by whatever he was reading. He either did not notice Harry or was ignoring him, and Harry glowered at his back. It was just like Snape to make him hurry and then ignore him. Finally, Snape turned and looked at Harry.

“It appears that the Golden Boy is capable of following orders after all.” He said softly. “Perhaps one day he will learn to do so without stomping about like a petulant child.”

Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.

“Come, Potter.” Snape turned and strode to the portrait hole. “I don’t have all day.”

“Where are we going, sir?” Harry asked, not moving.

“To the dungeons.” Snape answered without looking at him. “My potions do not typically brew themselves. Now, come along.”

“But, sir,” Harry persisted, “Why am I coming with you?”

The Potions Master turned and looked at Harry with the utmost contempt. “Because you excel in getting into trouble, Potter, and I have been assigned the dubious task of assuring that you do not run afoul of Professor Umbridge while the Headmaster is away.”

“He’s gone?” Harry asked. “But he never said anything about leaving for the holidays.”

“You are not entitled to know the Headmaster’s every move, Potter.” Snape said. “Suffice to say, he is gone, and I will be monitoring your every move.”

“How will you do that?” Harry questioned anxiously, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

“Is it not obvious, Potter?” Snape looked deeply displeased. “You are to spend your days with me."

Harry thought he might vomit. “All day? Every day?”

“All day.” Snape confirmed. “Every day. Until the Headmaster returns.”

“But I can stay out of trouble.” Harry protested, desperate to avoid spending his holidays with Snape.

“Of course you can.” Snape replied. “And I can fly just by flapping my arms about. For the last time, Potter, come along.”

Snape stooped to exit the room. As Harry followed him, he knew that this would absolutely, positively be the worst Christmas of his entire life.

"Day three of my waking nightmare," Harry muttered as he knocked on the door to Snape's classroom.

"Enter."

Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside, wondering all the while what Snape would make him do today. Harry had spent the last two days crushing frog and insect remains into powder, a task he was sure Snape had been planning since first year just for him. Therefore, he was surprised to find that the table he had been using for the past two days was empty.

"Close the door, Potter." Snape commanded.

Harry obeyed, then watched anxiously as the Potions professor took a roll of parchment from his desk and strode to the supply closet. Snape only stopped long enough to glare at Harry and order, "Come."

The supply closet was stacked from floor to ceiling with vials of potions and ingredients.

"This" Snape made a sweeping gesture to indicate an entire wall of vials with liquid inside "is where mixed potions are stored. You will spend the rest of the day checking the shelves against this list." He thrust the parchment at Harry. "If the vial is not completely full, you will make a notation indicating how much of the potion remains. Are these instructions quite clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry answered.

"Then get to work."

"Yes, sir."

Snape lingered for a few minutes, no doubt waiting for Harry to either complain about the task or simply refuse to do it. When the young wizard unrolled the three-foot length of parchment and, without so much as a sigh, immediately began to look for the first vial, Snape turned stiffly and returned to his classroom.

Harry smiled grimly. Snape was sorely mistaken if he thought that cataloging potions was really the most unpleasant task Harry had been forced to perform this year. In fact, the only bothersome aspect of the chore was how mundane it was. Harry soon found that he could catalogue potions and think of other matters at the same time, so he let part of his mind wander.

This isn't so bad. He admitted to himself. It's certainly not the worst detention I've served this year. Is this really a detention, though? It is the holidays, after all. He returned a vial of Polyjuice Potion to its proper place and paused for a moment to consider. Then he heard Snape moving around in the next room. Yeah, this is definitely detention. Any second spent with Snape outside of class has to be a punishment of some kind. I wonder who I'd hate to have detention with more? Snape or McGonagall? Well, that's easy. Snape or Filch? They're both foul gits, but Filch is a Squib and he can't use chains on students, so Snape wins that round. Snape or Umbridge? Harry clenched his fists. Definitely Umbridge, but only because Snape has yet to make me write lines in my own blood.

Harry catalogued potions and entertained random thoughts for the rest of the morning. The hours passed quickly, and he was quite surprised when Snape walked in and announced that it was time for lunch. After washing and drying his dusty hands, Harry followed Snape to the Great Hall. Then came what had become Harry's favorite part of this particular winter break: the moment he and Snape went to two entirely different tables on two completely opposite ends of the hall. This was the only time, apart from sleeping, that Harry was allowed to be more than twenty feet away from the professor. This could not really be called freedom because he and Snape were still in the same room, but at least Snape was not ordering him around or making snide comments along the theme of ‘like father, like son.'

As he ate, Harry noted that while the four Hufflepuff students were sitting together, the lone Ravenclaw and Slytherin were dining alone. He was also relieved to find that there were apparently no plans to have the staff and students share a table over the break. Harry did not know who made such decisions, but he decided that whoever it was probably knew that only the Slytherin student would want to sit at the same table as both Snape and Umbridge. The latter had tried repeatedly to corner Harry, but Snape was always there to intervene. However, since Snape's idea of intervening was to tell Umbridge that Harry was spending so much time in the dungeons because "when it comes to Potions, Potter needs all the help he can get," Harry was somewhat less than grateful.

As Harry thought about Umbridge and Snape, he felt overcome with anger. This was not how he had planned to spend his Christmas. At this point, even spending the break with the Dursleys would have been better.

You have no choice but to stay here, and you know it! He bitterly reminded himself. Everyone is safer if you stay here.

But how long would this go on, Harry wondered. How long was he to be plagued by these nightmares, and how was he supposed to make them stop if Dumbledore would not even answer his questions? Now Dumbledore was away from the school until Christmas Eve, and Harry was sure that no one else could help him.

Despair filled Harry, and he suddenly could not bear to be around other people. He pushed his food back, stood, and hastily exited the hall, never once thinking about how Snape would react to his disobedience.

Severus would have enjoyed his Potter-free meal had it not been for the fact that Dolores Umbridge insisting on chattering at him the entire time. The woman appeared to be operating under the mistaken belief that she and Severus were friends, and she was in a particularly cheery mood today. So the Potions Master spent much of the meal ignoring her, a fact of which Umbridge remained unaware.

While Umbridge spoke ceaselessly, Severus consumed his food and forced himself not to look at the Potter brat. After all, this was supposed to be his break from at least one annoyance, and he was determined to enjoy it. He would have succeeded in doing so, despite Umbridge's incessant chatter, if he had not glanced up just in time to see Potter stand and all but run from the hall.

Disobedient little brat! Severus thought angrily. He looked over at Umbridge. It was obvious that she had seen Potter leave, and he prepared to stop her from pursuing the boy. Then she turned to him and smiled.

"You won't have to worry about Mr. Potter for much longer, Severus."

"Really?" Severus asked. The smile on Umbridge's face did not bode well, so he proceeded with caution. "And why is that?"

Umbridge looked around for eavesdroppers, then leaned closer to Severus and whispered gleefully, "Because he is to be arrested and taken to Azkaban tonight."

“Azkaban?” Severus queried. “Really?”

“Yes.” Umbridge confirmed excitedly. “Charges have been filed against the boy for performing magic on his aunt.”

“That happened two and a half years ago, did it not?” The question was asked in a curious tone, but Severus knew that Umbridge could only be referring to the incident with Marjorie Dursley. He also remembered the incident because he had originally thought that Potter inflated Petunia Dursley, and the mental image of Lily Potter’s odious sister bobbing around in the air for several hours had put him in quite a good mood.

Umbridge nodded. “The Minister, being the benevolent man that he is, was more concerned for Mr. Potter’s safety at the time. You may remember that the illegal magic was performed during the summer that Sirius Black escaped.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I do.”

“Of course, no one knew then that the boy was just as dangerous and deranged as Black. But things are quite different now, and the Minister is no longer willing to overlook Mr. Potter’s many transgressions. He agrees with me that now is the time to act.”

“How fortunate for you, then, that the Headmaster is away.” Severus murmured.

“Yes, it will be lovely not to have Dumbledore interfering, for once.” Umbridge agreed. “The Minister is coming to Hogwarts tonight with several of our most-skilled Aurors. Typically, he would also be accompanied by dementors, but as Mr. Potter is clearly capable of repelling them…” Her face twisted slightly, and Severus was sure that she was remembering the Minister’s failed attempt to have Potter expelled over the summer. Several seconds passed before the woman gave a little laugh and said, “Well, no matter. Mr. Potter will not fare nearly as well against the dementors once his wand has been snapped.”

Severus said nothing to that. Umbridge seemed to take his silence as acquiescence, for she piled a third serving of treacle tart onto her plate and began to chatter in normal tones about a pair of ornamental plates she had purchased as a Christmas gift for herself. As before, she failed to notice that the Potions professor was completely ignoring her. This was fortunate for Severus, who was furiously trying to find a way to save the student he loathed more than any other.

One thing was certain, and that was that Umbridge must not suspect her colleague when the Ministry’s plans were foiled. For Severus had already determined that he would sing Christmas carols in Hell before he allowed Potter to be thrown into Azkaban for a bout of accidental magic that had been committed more than two years ago. In the interest of not rousing Umbridge’s suspicions, however, Severus poured himself more pumpkin juice and lingered over his empty plate for an additional fifteen minutes. Then he excused himself and exited the hall at a steady pace. As it was unlikely that Potter would have actually returned to the dungeons of his own accord, Severus headed for the only other place that the boy seemed to like these days.

Harry had recovered from his latest bout of angst and was debating how best to avoid Snape when he heard footsteps outside the room. The door opened a second later, and the boy found himself facing an obviously peeved professor. As Snape strode across the room, Harry wished he had thought to at least pull out a book so that he could pretend to have been studying. Instead, he was left struggling to find an excuse for his disobedience.

“I-” He began.

“Were you seen?” Snape interrupted him.

“Sir?”

“Did anyone see you come up here?”

Taken aback, Harry frowned and shook his head. “No, sir.”

“The halls were completely empty?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Snape stepped closer, and Harry suddenly wondered if it was such a good thing that no one else knew where he was. It was a well-known fact that Severus Snape was quick to punish those who disobeyed him, and Harry would not have put it past the man to perform some vile hex on him. When the first item that Snape retrieved from his cloak was his wand, Harry scrambled backward across the bed and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his own wand. However, the next item that Snape retrieved made Harry pause. The young wizard held out his wand cautiously and watched as Snape tapped the tip of his wand to the empty vial in his other hand.

“Portus.” Snape muttered. He looked up at Harry and sneered. “Put that wand away, Potter, and come over here.” Harry hesitated, and the professor snarled, “Now, Potter!”

Harry gathered up his courage and said, “I’m quite alright where I am, sir.”

“Merlin save me from dunderheads!” Snape growled. He then leaned forward, grabbed Harry by the wrist, and slapped the boy’s hand onto the vial. There was an unpleasant tug behind Harry’s navel, and then he was gone.

Ron Weasley could say with absolute certainty that this was, by far, the worst Christmas break he had ever had.

First, his father was attacked by a giant snake while on official business for a covert organization whose mission was to vanquish one of the darkest wizards of all time. Then, he learned that the attack may or may not have been committed by his best friend while under the control of said dark wizard. Now he was stuck in a dark, creepy old house with a deranged house-elf, a shrieking portrait, and six people who would not stop asking him about Harry. It definitely did not help that one of the inquisitors was the most clever and determined witch that Ron had ever met.

“I just don’t understand it.” Hermione said for the twentieth time in three days. “Why doesn’t Harry want to be with us? I mean, everyone wants him here, and I think your mum is actually a bit hurt that he didn’t come with us.”

Ron shrugged and looked down at his hands. He could feel Hermione’s stare and inwardly groaned when she settled next to him on the settee.

“Fred and George said that you and Harry were in Dumbledore’s office before they were.” Hermione said. “I know Dumbledore’s been somewhat aloof toward Harry this term. Did he say anything that would have made Harry want to stay at Hogwarts?”

“No.” Ron said immediately. “No, Dumbledore barely spoke to Harry at all. He was sort of busy, you know, with getting everyone together and making sure we could stay with Sirius.”

Ron looked up just enough to see Hermione nod slightly and then frown in concentration. Since that look was almost always followed by some clever deduction on Hermione’s part, Ron decided that it might be best to leave.

“I think I’ll just go see what Fred and George have got into.”

The youngest Weasley boy had barely risen from his seat when Hermione whipped her head around and asked, “Did you say something to him?”

Ron froze. “What?”

Hermione jumped up and stared at him. “You did, didn’t you? You said something to Harry before the others got there, something that made him stay at Hogwarts.” She put her hands on her hips and thrust her face into his. “What did you say to him?”

“I-”

“What did you tell him?” Hermione screeched.

Ron looked up at his friend and gulped. Then he remembered how his father had looked when Ron first saw him in the hospital, and what Harry had said the night of the attack. Struck by a sudden bout of anger and bravado, Ron leapt from the settee and glared down at the girl standing before him.

“Harry told me that he was the snake, Hermione!” He yelled. “What would you have done in my place? Let someone near your family who may be possessed by You Know Who?”

Hermione glowered at him, momentary speechless for the first time that Ron had known her. Then her face colored in rage.

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met!” She screamed, then whirled on her heel and stormed out of the parlor.

Ron dropped back down onto the settee, put his head in his hands, and groaned. He knew it did not bode well for him that he had never before seen Hermione’s face turn such a deep shade of red.

After Harry had finished sneezing for the umpteenth time in an hour, he removed himself from the dusty armchair and glared around the equally dusty room. The armchair was the only piece of furniture not draped with a sheet, and that was only because Snape had jerked the sheet off right before pushing Harry into the chair.

“You will stay in this room until I return.” Snape had ordered after casting a spell that locked the door leading from the sitting room to, presumably, another part of the house.“If I find that you have so much as breathed on anything other than the chair upon which you are now sitting, you will spend the rest of the holidays under a binding spell.”

With that, Snape had grabbed the vial-turned-Portkey and disappeared.

Now, an hour later, Harry was no closer to figuring out what was going on than he was when they had first arrived. Why was he here? Where was here, anyway? Had Snape gone back to Hogwarts, and when would he return? Most importantly, why had Snape taken Harry’s wand before leaving?

Harry was most anxious about not having his wand. He hoped that Snape had only taken it to prevent Harry from leaving the room, because the only other explanation he could think of was that the professor wanted to render him defenseless. Harry had no idea what he would do if the latter were true and Snape planned to hurt him. Of course, maybe Snape was not planning to do anything to Harry at all. Maybe the former Death Eater, whose loyalties Harry found himself questioning more often than not, was planning to deliver the boy to Lord Voldemort.

“That can’t be true, though.” Harry reasoned. “I’ve been alone with Snape for the better part of three days. If he was planning to hand me over to Voldemort, wouldn’t he have done it before now?”

Harry sat back down and sighed. He was becoming rather sick and tired of feeling like he was not in control of his own life. Would it really be too much trouble for someone to just tell him something?

Normally, such musings would have only angered Harry. Right now, though, he was far too tired to conjure up emotions of any kind. Instead, he leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and began to mutter insults at the absent Potions professor. He had barely made it past the more creative names that the Weasley twins had invented for Snape before lapsing into sleep.

Severus spent an hour pretending to look for Potter before going to Umbridge’s office. His next actions were critical, and he took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Once admitted entrance, Severus opened the door and faced Umbridge.

“Ah, Severus.” The woman looked up from a cup of tea and smiled at him. “How may I help you?”

Resisting the urge to hex the witch and incinerate her blasted collection of mewing plates, Severus smoothly began the lie that would spare Potter a trip to Azkaban.

“In light of our recent conversation, I thought you should be the first to know that Mr. Potter appears to have vanished.”

Exactly thirty minutes after Severus reported Potter’s “disappearance,” Cornelius Fudge and two Aurors arrived at Hogwarts via the fireplace in Umbridge’s office. As soon as trio emerged from the flames, Severus knew that the search Umbridge was feverishly organizing would fail, for the Aurors were none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks.

“I heard that Potter doesn’t even like his relatives.” Tonks said just as Fudge was preparing to dispatch more Aurors to Little Whinging.

“I suppose you could leave a look-out at St. Mungo’s.” Shacklebolt replied when Fudge decided that Potter would run to what had become his surrogate family. “But if Potter had planned to visit the Weasleys, surely he would have done so as soon as school let out for the holidays.”

The two Aurors did agree that perhaps Umbridge should search for Potter in the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately, Filch had joined the discussion by then and felt inclined to remind Umbridge that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden for a reason.

In the end, it was determined that Potter could only have left the school on foot. His broom was still locked away, he could not Disapparate, and the Floo Network was closely monitored.

“And obviously” Umbridge huffed “No one here would create a Portkey for the boy.”

Tonks and Shacklebolt were dispatched to St. Mungo’s, and Fudge arranged to have two more Aurors stay in Hogsmeade. Another Auror was ordered to watch the Dursley home.

“Do not fret, Dolores.” Fudge said soothingly to the harried-looking woman. “We’ll find Potter straight away, perhaps even before he runs into an Auror. After all, the boy is bound to use underage magic at some point.”

Not if I can help it, Severus thought.

Umbridge and Filch arranged to take turns patrolling the grounds in case Potter decided to return to the castle. The group seemed to have forgotten that Severus was still in the room, for no one suggested that he assist with the search. Severus had not spoken since lying to Fudge and the Aurors about searching for Potter after lunch, and it also helped that he had spent the entire meeting near the door.

“If you have no further need of me,” The Potions Master said, “I do have some potions to brew for Madam Pomfrey.”

Umbridge waved him away in dismissal, Tonks and Shacklebolt gave him a courteous nod, and Fudge did not appear to notice that he had even spoken. Severus slipped out of the office and immediately went to his quarters. He paced briefly in front of the fireplace and racked his brain for anything that needed to be done before he left Hogwarts for the evening. Potter’s owl had already been released, a brief missive to Dumbledore secured firmly to one leg. There were quicker ways to communicate, but since Severus did not know where Dumbledore was, his options were limited. The professor’s quarters were already heavily warded unwanted visitors, and Severus added an extra ward to the door that would send a signal if Umbridge came looking for him.

Satisfied, Severus removed the illegal Portkey from his robes and grasped it firmly, then disappeared. As soon as he reappeared in the sitting room of his home on Spinner’s End, he braced himself for a barrage of questions from his unwilling guest. Instead, he found Potter asleep in the armchair.

How much sleep can the brat need? Severus thought irritably.

He strode across the room, fully intending to shake Potter awake. Then the boy moaned and jerked in the chair, and Severus paused. The jerking and moaning increased, and it soon became clear that the boy was in the throes of a particularly nasty nightmare.

“Wonderful.” Severus muttered. He cleared his throat and, speaking loudly, commanded, “Wake up, Potter.”

The young wizard did not awaken, but the moaning stopped, and his movements became less spasmodic. Severus had just decided that perhaps the nightmare was over when Potter spoke.

In Parseltongue.

Ron once thought that nothing was worse than being screamed at by his mother. He was, however, currently being disabused of that notion.

“What were you thinking?” Molly Weasley shrieked at her youngest son. “Did your father and I raise you to treat your friends that way? No, we did not!”

She took a breath, and Hermione chimed in.

“Why not just ask Dumbledore?” She yelled.

“Or me?” Ginny added. “I do have some experience with this sort of thing, you know!”

“I didn’t think of that.” Ron admitted. He looked to Fred and George for support.

“Prat.” They said together.

Sirius was opening his mouth to speak when the doorbell rang. The portrait of his mother, which had already been roused by the screaming of the Weasley females and Hermione, grew louder.

“I wish people would stop ringing that blasted bell!” Sirius snarled as he rushed to the front door.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Ron held up his hands in a pleading gesture and said, “I was wrong, alright? But I only did it to protect everyone. I know Harry’s not evil, but if he’s being possessed by You Know Who…” He trailed off and glanced around the room. While everyone looked slightly less murderous, they were still clearly angry. He sighed. “I suppose you want Harry to come stay here for the rest of the holidays?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Sirius said from the doorway. Tonks was standing beside him, and they both looked very worried.

“Why?” Molly asked at once. “What’s happened, Sirius?”

It was Tonks who answered. “It appears that Harry has run away from Hogwarts.”

Hermione and Ginny gasped, and Molly made a soft moaning sound. Ron felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“It may be for the best.” Tonks hastened to add. “We didn’t know until after Fudge received the alert from Dolores Umbridge, but apparently there were plans to have Harry arrested and sent to Azkaban tonight.”

“What?” Hermione whispered. She reached out and gripped the arm of the settee. “How can they? He hasn’t done anything!”

“He is being charged with inflating his aunt two years ago.” Tonks replied. Hermione started to protest, and Tonks added, “But they can’t arrest him if they can’t find him, and Kingsley and I are doing our best to ensure that they don’t.”

“But where is he?” Molly cried. “He’s already in so much danger from Death Eaters and He Who Must Not Be Named! It can’t possibly be safe for him to be wandering about on his own.”

“Kingsley and I don’t think that Harry is on his own.” Tonks said. “We think that somehow, another member of the Order learned of Fudge’s plans and helped Harry escape before he could be arrested. It is our hope that this person either personally took Harry to a safe place or instructed Harry to meet him somewhere.”

“Him?” Hermione asked. “So you know who helped Harry?”

“We have an idea of who it might have been.” Tonks answered. “Unfortunately, we were unable to confirm our theory before being dispatched to London. Even if we had been,” she suddenly looked worried, “this is technically considered official Order business, so I really shouldn’t be discussing it with non-members at all.”

“It’s alright, Tonks.” Sirius assured his cousin. “Most of what you’ve said so far will be splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow, anyway.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Tonks gave the children a reassuring smile. “Well, I should get to St. Mungo’s and give Kingsley a break from his watch.”

Sirius and Molly walked Tonks to the door, and the children were left on their own. Ginny and Hermione hugged one another while the twins began whispering excitedly. Meanwhile, Ron slumped in his seat and stared at his shoes, overcome by worry and a sickening feeling of guilt.

     When Harry awoke, gasping for breath, and found himself staring into the face of Severus Snape, he thought he had fallen into another nightmare. Then he looked around the unfamiliar room and remembered everything. He leapt up from the chair and faced Snape, who stared back at him with an inscrutable expression.

     "Where am I?" Harry demanded.

     "Good evening to you, too, Mr. Potter." Snape intoned. "I trust you slept well."

     The last sentence was said in a sardonic tone, and Harry suddenly realized that Snape must have seen him in the throes of his latest nightmare. Flushing, the young wizard forced himself to keep his eyes on Snape's face and repeat his question.

     "Where am I? Where have you taken me?"

     "Sir."

     "What?"

     "You will address me as ‘sir' at all times." Snape ordered. "Now, try again, Potter."

     Harry clenched his teeth and muttered, "Where am I, sir?"

     Snape looked at him for a moment, clearly considering something. Just when Harry thought he would not get an answer, the professor said, "You are in my home, Potter."

     "At Hogwarts?" Snape arched a brow, and Harry remembered to add, "Sir?"

     "Of course not, you stupid child." Snape answered. "This is where I stay when school is not in session."

     Scowling, Harry pressed on. "Why am I here? Sir?"

     "Because you were a foolish little brat and did not go with the Weasleys." The Potions Master snapped.

     "No, sir." Harry retorted. "I was at Hogwarts because I did not go to stay with Ron and his family. Why did you bring me here, sir?"

     Looking as if he dearly wanted to take points, Snape scowled and said, "You were in danger, so I had to rescue you. Again."

     "‘In danger'?" Harry repeated. "At Hogwarts?"

     "Surely you've learned by now, Potter, that Hogwarts is not always the safest of places." Snape replied with a sneer.

     Harry nodded, thinking that truer words had never been spoken. He took a moment to consider this new information, then asked, "Who am I in danger from, sir?"

     Snape's face darkened. "We will discuss that over dinner."

     "Dinner?"

     "Yes, Potter, dinner." Snape tilted his head slightly and inquired sarcastically, "You are familiar with the concept, I think?"

     Harry ground out a ‘yes' and wondered if all his teeth would be dust by the end of the holidays.

     "Excellent." Snape dispelled the locking charm on the door. "You will remain in here while I prepare the meal." He jabbed a finger at Harry and added, "Be sure that I will know if you leave this room, Potter."

     "Yes, sir." Harry answered. Snape continued to glare until Harry sat back down in the armchair and folded his hands in his lap. Looking somewhat satisfied, Snape turned and headed for the door. Before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, however, the professor paused and turned back around.

     "What were you dreaming about when I arrived, Potter?"

     Startled by the question, Harry blinked rapidly for a moment and then answered, "Voldemort, sir."

     "The Dark Lord?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "I see." Snape took a step toward him. "And do you dream of the Dark Lord often?"

     Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

     "When I arrived," Snape stepped closer, "You were speaking in Parseltongue. Why?"

     Harry hesitated. If there was one person that he did not want to know the nature of his dreams, it was Snape.

     "Tell me, Potter!" Snape said sharply. "And do not lie to me, for I will know if you do."

     Harry did not doubt this for a moment, for he had often had the disconcerting impression that Snape could read minds.

     "I was speaking in Parseltongue because that's the language snakes use," Harry answered reluctantly. "and I was a snake in my dream, so..." He trailed off, hoping that Snape would not ask anymore questions. Unfortunately, hope was an ineffective tool when dealing with Severus Snape.

     "You weren't just any snake, were you, Potter?" The Potions Professor pressed.

     Harry sighed. "No, sir." He answered. "I was, or I was seeing things as if I were, Voldemort's snake."

     Something flashed in Snape's eyes. "And are you aware, Potter, that this is the same snake that attacked Arthur Weasley?"

     "I know, sir." Harry muttered miserably. "I saw it happen."

     "In a dream?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "Were you viewing the scene from the snake's eyes then, as well?"

     "Yes, sir."

     Snape stared at him for a long moment, apparently speechless for the first time since Harry had met the man. Then he snarled, whirled on his heel, and stormed from the room. As the door slammed shut, Harry thought that at least now Snape had a valid reason for hating him.