Severus frowned. Despite his bet with himself as to how long it would take Albus to find out about his trip to Azkaban on his own, in the interests of not being called to the headmaster's study like an errant child, he'd decided that it would be best to simply go and make a full confession. After all, after having told Harry about being a Horcrux, it was unlikely that Albus could become any more upset with him.

Severus had fully expected some sort of anger at his presumption, though; that and perhaps a sharp reminder that he was only at Hogwarts because of the headmaster's support as well. Not that he was particularly worried about losing his position at this point, but he'd received similar reminders when he'd managed to anger Albus past a certain point in the past. Slightly disappointed acceptance was…well, definitely not a response that he'd considered. His lips curled, and he barely kept a huff of annoyance to himself. It was a sad state of affairs when he actually preferred anger over disappointment.

Albus leaned forward to peruse the letter again, the one that Severus had spell-duplicated to pass on to Lucius, and Severus glowered at the top of his head. His life would be much easier if he was a good enough Legilimens to read Albus. Unfortunately, since no one was that good, he was left guessing. He had always hated guessing.

Albus being Up to Something was Severus' usual theory when the man started acting contrary to expectations—although determining what to expect from Albus was an art in and of itself—but he wasn't sure how an unexpected variable like a trip to Azkaban to deliver an if-not-illicit-than-at-least-slightly-questionable missive could possibly factor into whatever plots Albus currently had in progress. And it had to have been an unexpected trip; even Albus wasn't omniscient.

But…. Severus tapped his fingers against leg slowly, the gesture hidden from view. But would an unexpected trip to Azkaban to visit a known Deatheater have any effect on Albus in-progress plans? He hadn't thought about it before, but that could very well account for Albus' attitude. If the trip didn't have any effect on the man's current plans, then unless Lucius did something particularly advantageous—or the opposite—for them, Severus could actually see Albus simply ignoring it. Or at least leaving it be to play out for awhile.

"Well, what's done is done, I suppose," Albus said with another sigh, folding the letter and putting it into the upper drawer in his desk. "But please inform me before you do anything similar in the future."

Albus tone was still far too pleasant for Severus tastes, but there was nothing there that he could actually object to. And since the words were clearly a dismissal, he pushed himself to his feet and nodded slightly. "Good day, then."

Albus murmured something polite in return, and Severus made his way down the staircase.

Simply leaving it to play out it until it becomes useful, his mind corrected itself as he walked. As much as he did like Albus, being a pawn in the old man's games occasionally got irritating.

He shook his head and turned towards the dungeons. He had class to teach—approaching Albus at this hour had been strategic, given that Albus would almost certainly have released him for his teaching duties no matter how angry he was—but said class wasn't for almost half an hour, leaving him with free time that he hadn't expected.

He could try and get a little more work done cleaning up the potions' residue that was still coating most of the flat surfaces in his laboratory, but he didn't really have that much time. By the time he got changed and got to work, he'd have to be getting ready to teach again. But there were assignments that could be graded, and—

He changed directions abruptly as Poppy came around the corner, but it was too late. She'd seen him as well.

"Severus, how are you doing today?"

"Simply delightful, and yourself?"

"Quite wonderful as well, actually. I was just out in the greenhouse with Pomona—she was giving her third years a lecture on the most commonly used medicinal plants—and the Ever-Blooming…."

Severus tuned her out as she continued to chatter, firmly reminding herself that not everyone in the castle had what he would term a reasonable grasp of sarcasm. "If you will excuse me," he finally managed to interject when she had to pause for breath, "I have a class to teach." Soon enough.

"Of course. Of course. But if you'd stop by the hospital wing when you have a moment, I'd like to do another quick examination of your eye. And your clamp as well, I suppose." She swept off down the corridor in her bizarre bubble of happiness, leaving Severus staring after her.

Stop by the hospital wing when I have a moment? Since when does she say things like that? He'd have been less surprised—much less surprised—if she'd insisted that he accompany her to the hospital wing now, and any classes that he had be damned.

He was still in shock when Filch passed him, walking down the center of the corridor rather than skulking in the shadows hoping to catch someone out. And then Peeves floated past without so much as making a face at him. But it was Minerva's polite nod as he passed the open door to her classroom that was the absolute last straw.

He'd already come up with a reasonable explanation for Albus' actions, and he supposed that it was entirely possible that Poppy was genuinely in that…cheerful…a mood. He, personally, didn't understand it, but she did have the demeanor for that sort of thing. Perhaps Filch had already caught his quota of students for the day or for some reason had decided that it wasn't necessary to lurk while the majority of the students were in classes. And Peeves may have been off to make trouble elsewhere. But he knew that Minerva hadn't forgiven him for telling Harry that he was a Horcrux yet—she could hold a grudge with the best of them when she wanted and she'd been glaring at him at breakfast just this morning—so what in Merlin's name could have changed in just the past few hours?

Perhaps the castle staff has all gone mad. Something in the lunch menu? The idea was absurd, of course, but he had skipped the meal, and he could come up with nothing else offhand that would explain such bizarre behavior. Well, if he discounted Peeves', anyway...and she'd nodded at him. Without so much as a hint of a frown. He twisted to look back at the door to the Transfiguration. What in Merlin's name is going on?

He changed course again, this time for the Defense classroom. As unlikely as the scenario was, if he managed to speak to Alastor for more than thirty seconds without an exchange of insults, he would assume that those in the castle had gone insane and would take steps accordingly.

Unfortunately, as he approached the Defense classroom, he heard Alastor barking at a some unfortunate group of students. Of course, he would have a class now. He listened for a minute longer. Modulated blocks were a fifth-year subject if he recalled correctly…then again, knowing Alastor, he wouldn't think twice about inflicting them on a bunch of first years.

Still, he couldn't justify hexing Alastor in front of a roomful of students, as much as the man deserved it just on principle, so he continued past the Defense classroom. If Sybil made it through dinner without predicting anyone's death, that would be perfectly valid evidence of psychosis as well.

He was perhaps a dozen steps past the door when he heard it bang open behind him.

"Hah! Constant vigilance! What are you doing, lurking about down here?"

Severus turned, raising an eyebrow at the wand pointed at him. Well, at least one person is behaving normally. Of course, he was already mad, but…. "I wasn't aware that walking down a corridor constituted lurking, actually."

"Hmph."

"Presumably you are aware that leaving a classroom full of teenagers unsupervised is not a wise idea?" Severus pressed, when Alastor continued to glare at him. "If you aren't, you'll certainly learn on short order."

Alastor made a decidedly rude gesture, although he kept it out of sight of the students, Severus noted, and then, "If you haven't anything useful to do, get in here. I could use a victim."

"With such eloquent persuasive skills, it's a wonder that you haven't a line of volunteers." Still, he hadn't anything else particularly important to do just now, and after a moment he followed Alastor into the classroom. Perhaps it wasn't the meal and I've gone mad as well. That was a comforting thought.

Fifth year Gryffindor-Slytherin, Severus noted as he entered. And if anything, the wariness on the Gryffindors' faces was even less encouraging than Alastor's term of 'victim' had been. He wouldn't have thought too much about the wariness on his Slytherins' faces—they had the intelligence to be wary around Alastor as a general rule—but Gryffindors just didn't have that much sense.

He turned to face Alastor. "Precisely what do you need a victim for?"

Alastor's smile was evil. He could claim that he was on the side of light all he liked, evil was really the only term for it. "It seems that none of this lot can hold a proper Elastic block against an attack."

Severus' eyes widened slightly and he glanced at the students again. There didn't seem to be any of them missing from the lot, nor were there any suspiciously student-shaped dents in the walls, but…. He frowned. Had Alastor learned moderation at some point? For him that was insanity.

"Well, bring one up," Alastor ordered, gesturing sharply. "I assume you can."

Severus didn't bother to dignify that with a response, bringing up the strongest Elastic block that he had. And setting his feet firmly, because he had no doubt that Alastor was the sort that would be perfectly content to knock his opponent unconscious against the nearest wall, even if the block itself technically held.

"Notice how he plants himself," Alastor said, his want still raised as he turned to lecture to the class. "If you've got an opponent who doesn't, you can knock him senseless without even having to break through his block." He turned back to Severus and rolled his wand in his hand.

I hate being right all the time.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, and Severus dropped his last block. And got a grudging nod that might have been respect from Alastor. Well, that or possibly he was just hiding his annoyance that he hadn't managed to give Severus any new bruises, despite his many attempts, from the students. Hiding annoyance was far more likely unless Severus chose to return to the everyone-has-gone-insane theory.

He returned the nod out of habit—along with an appropriately smug smirk reflecting the fact that Alastor hadn't managed to get through any of his blocks—and then turned for the door.

"That was brilliant, Professor," Harry said, coming up alongside him as he stepped out the door, still shoving books into his pack.

Merlin save me from Gryffindors, and this Gryffindor's determination to ruin my reputation in particular. He scowled down at the brat. "Yes, Mr. Potter, and you are certainly one of the world's foremost experts on complicated blocks."

"I'm better at it than Potions."

I suppose I should consider myself fortunate that he at least recognized the sarcasm. He sneered. "Because that's saying such a great deal." He shifted his scowled to the other Gryffindor idiot, Finnigan, who appeared to be waiting for Harry. Bad enough that the Trio were becoming accustomed to him, he didn't need all of the obnoxious little lions deciding that he was…friendly. Or some other such nonsense. "Don't you have a class to get to?" He looked down at Harry. "Both of you?"

Harry nodded. "See you later, Professor."

Severus scrubbed harshly at a particularly stubborn stain on his workbench, still contemplating Minerva's odd behavior. The nod as he'd passed her classroom had been bad enough, but she'd been downright polite to him at dinner. He could explain away the rest of the staff's seemingly odd behavior—and Sybil had predicted death-by-wildebeest when the pork was served, which Severus was taking as official confirmation that no one had actually gone insane—but Minerva? She was not that forgiving. Unless Harry had talked to her at some point? That was possible, actually, and he started to turn.

"Still looks like a mess, boy."

Severus spun back the other direction, letting his sponge fall from his clamp as his wand dropped down into his free hand. And then his mind caught up with his reflexes, at which point he ordered his heart to get back into his chest. Although he didn't lower his wand. "How in the bloody hell did you get into my quarters?" He knew damn well that he hadn't invited anyone in recently, and he most certainly hadn't given Alastor-the-paranoid-lunatic-Moody his password, so….

Alastor snickered, clearly pleased with himself, and gave no indication that he planned to answer Severus' question. Which probably shouldn't have come as any real surprise, even if it did serve to increase Severus' irritation. "Wand down, boy."

Change the password and strengthen the wards, Severus noted to himself. In my infinite spare time, of course. He made no attempt to follow Alastor's orders. "What do you want?"

"Just been sitting around on your arse expecting it to clean itself?" Alastor asked, craning his neck around the door to survey the room. Despite the fact that he probably didn't have to given the way his magical eye was spinning about. His wand remained firmly on target as well.

"Why, yes, Alastor. I just walk around with sponges for artistic effect." Idiot. With a sigh, Severus shoved his wand back into its holster with a bit more force than necessary. "Again, what do you want? And if it involves any form of bodily harm to my person, too bloody bad. You already had your opportunity today, and in case you've forgotten, you failed miserably."

He hadn't been sitting around, as Alastor damn well knew; he'd spent every minute of his free time since he'd reopened his workroom scrubbing every surface in there free of the inert-but-ridiculously-stubborn potions residues that coated them. And he still wasn't done...it frustrated him more and more each time he came in here.

Alastor snorted. "You're welcome to step out here and say that again and we'll just see what it gets you when there aren't a bunch of children watching. Although I'm sure you'll get yourself dead soon enough, with or without my input. Stupidity like openly delivering messages to…certain places, shall we say…tends to lead to that." He shook his head. "No, actually Albus wants to talk to your little shadow again. He wasn't in the tower, so I figured I'd check with you."

"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted, sticking his head out from under the far worktable.

Alastor didn't even twitch. Then again, he'd no doubt known that the brat was there from the moment he'd entered. "Mr. Potter."

"Aren't you supposed to be scrubbing?" Severus demanded, twisting to glare over his shoulder at Harry. If the brat was going to be spending time in his quarters—and there was something decidedly disconcerting about Alastor deciding to look for him here—he was damn well going to make himself useful. At the moment by scrubbing up the residue under the tables, since Severus' knees objected strenuously when he tried.

"Ruined another sponge." Harry held it up in explanation. "Are you sure we can't use magic to clean this place?"

Severus scowl deepened. "Why, of course we could; I'm simply scrubbing the room by hand for my pleasure." A first year should know that you couldn't use magic around all potions, and that using magic to clean potions that had mixed in bizarre and unexpected ways was, for all intents and purposes, suicidally stupid, but it wasn't as though any of his students ever listened to his lectures for more than two minutes at a stretch anyway. Half the ghosts in this castle were probably former professors who'd gone mad and killed themselves after being forced to deal with dunderheads for extended periods of time, and the other half were probably dunderheads who'd been murdered. And deservedly so. He shook his head. "Go with Professor Moody before I give in to the urge to use the both of you to replenish my ingredient stores."

"Like to see you try," Alastor muttered.

"Don't tempt me. Liver of a lunatic must be useful for something."

Of course, as soon as the brat was gone, he found himself wondering what, precisely, Albus wanted to talk to the boy about. This would be…what the third time that he'd summoned Harry to his study since the Easter hols? The third time that Severus knew about, anyway. By this point Harry could have recited everything that he'd learned about Horcruxes three times over and had plenty of time to discuss next years Quidditch season, his upcoming OWLs, and his favorite types of pudding as well. Knowing Albus, they probably have discussed those things. But that wouldn't be Albus' main purpose, and Harry had been oddly reticent about discussing said meetings with Severus. Severus sill wasn't sure what to make of that.

He picked his sponge up from the floor where it had fallen and tossed it onto the table beside Harry's before going into the main room to stand in front of the door panel. Best do this before I get sidetracked. And Alastor returns to annoy. He drew his wand and mentally ran through the spells necessarily to change a Hogwarts' password.

He shook his head. It wasn't that he was particularly interested in hearing about the brat's every waking moment, of course, but this…well, he'd known Albus for a rather long time now, and this was starting to get suspicious. While he wouldn't put it past Albus to try and keep his doings from Severus—that was perfectly par for course, at this point—it seemed odd that Harry was willingly playing along. And even odder still that the brat hadn't let something slip by accident, given the amount of time he was spending in Severus quarters. Even if Severus did have him spending much of his time scrubbing things.

Could whatever Albus wanted to discuss with Harry tonight have anything to do with the note he'd passed to Lucius? Severus didn't think so since he could think of nothing in the note that would mean anything to a fifteen year old boy, but…. If he's not annoying me by doing something, he's annoying me by not. You think I'd be used to that by now. That was how it had always been, after all.

Severus shook his head and brought his wand up. He would just have to try a bit harder to get more information out of Harry the next time he was here. With a sigh, he cast the first spell, the one that notified the Hogwarts' master list—the spell-sealed book that held the passwords to all quarters, accessible only by the headmaster and his second—that a password change was in progress. And then frowned when his door flashed red. That had never happened before. He cast the second spell anyway, the one that would actually change the password, and his frown deepened when the door flashed a second time. What in Merlin's name is going on?

He checked the door, and his frown deepened as he recognized his original password. It was a simple spell, one even a first year would be able to manage—if they had the authority in Hogwarts' books, anyway—so why wasn't it working?

He cast the two spells again in quick succession, and again the door panel flashed twice and nothing useful happened. His original password was still intact. He had never heard of such an issue before, and with a scowl he headed for the headmaster's study. This was just what he didn't need right now.

Halfway there, he remembered that Albus was meeting with Harry. And as curious as Severus might be about the content of that conversation, he didn't care to have such a ridiculous problem as an inability to change his own password broadcast all over the castle. Or even to a single student. As the second, Minerva would have access to the books as well…perhaps something about the spell had been altered. It was a much more reasonable suspicion than foul play—in fact, the fact that foul play had even occurred to him was probably evidence that he'd spent a bit too much time around Alastor. After all, if the Dark Lord knew his password, he'd have done something a great deal more sinister than lock it in place.

Severus took the steps up to Gryffindor Tower quickly. During Umbridge's time here, he'd ignored rather a lot of the words that had come out of her mouth. Mostly in the interests of not losing his temper and hexing her on the spot, but if she'd instituted some sort of idiotic password change policy among her myriad of other proclamations, it was entirely possible that he'd have missed it. Given the absurdity of some of that woman's other pronouncements, I probably need to turn the panel pink in order to change the password. That or declare my eternal love for Fudge as part of the spell, perhaps. He snorted. Even when she's not here she manages to get on my last nerve.

The panel to Minerva's office swung open immediately after he knocked, and he stepped in to find her sitting at her desk, apparently working on a pile of student papers. Which was probably what he should have spent the evening doing rather than cleaning his laboratory, but….

"Severus," she greeted with a slight nod, setting her red quill aside.

"Minerva," he returned guardedly. She looked as calm as she had at dinner, but why she'd chosen today to forgive him he still didn't know, and he didn't like it. But he was here for a professional reason, not friendly chit-chat, so even if she was still annoyed with him, she would be required to listen. He gave a minute shake of his head as she cleared her throat. "Has there been any change to the password policy on personal quarters this year? Perhaps during Umbridge's…tenure?"

"Why, no. Why do you ask?"

Something in her expression was far too bland for his tastes—she wasn't even curious why he was asking?—and his eyes narrowed. As he was well aware, Minerva could hold a grudge with the best of them. And she had access to all of the staff passwords. "You didn't." It wasn't at all a question, and somehow he wasn't surprised that her expression didn't shift a single iota.

"I'm sure that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor-bloody-Moody knows the password to my quarters, and it won't change," he growled. Alastor wasn't really a threat—at least, not to much besides Severus' sanity, anyway—and as far as ways to get revenge…well, it was rather creative. I hate Gryffindors. "Whatever you did to lock my password, fix it."

"A problem with your password? Really? I'll have to look into that." She made no move to get up from the desk.

It was inappropriate to imagine strangling another professor. No matter how very, very much she deserved it at the moment. Because as long as Alastor had his password, Severus had no doubt that he would continue to annoy Severus in every way possible. And these are the people that are supposed to be on my side.

"As long as you're here, is there anything else that I can help you with?" Whatever she'd done to prevent his password from changing, she obviously didn't plan to undo it anytime soon, if her expression was anything to go by.

Severus gritted his teeth. "I think you've done enough today." He was going to have to go interrupt Albus and Harry after all, it seemed. And hope that Albus wasn't in on this ridiculous plan as part of a…reprimand…of some sort for what Severus had done at Azkaban. Severus frowned. It wasn't a normal tactic on Albus' part, but—

The scream of a Hogwarts' alarm cut off the rest of that thought, and his wand was in his hand and he was out the door of her office and headed down the corridor before he even realized that he moved. "What in Merlin's name is that?" he demanded as they ran. He didn't remember ever hearing that alarm before, and it had cut out as soon as they were out of the office.

"Exterior wards," she snapped. "This way."

For a moment he almost wished that Deatheaters would invade his quarters using his currently-unchangeable password just so he could say 'I told you so,' but then common sense reasserted itself and he and Minerva burst through the door and out onto the roof of Gryffindor tower.