A week went by and Ron still wasn't speaking to Harry or Hermione. Hermione was avoiding both of them and Harry was annoyed at them as well for acting like a pair of five-year-olds. Whatever George and Fred had done or said to Ron clearly hadn't worked and Harry was fed up and seething with suppressed resentment and anger. His bad mood spilled over into his classes, he was frustrated in Charms, bored to death in History of Magic, distracted in Transfiguration, resulting in extra homework from Professor McGonagall, and even in Herbology and Care of Magical creatures he was irritable. Divination was a joke, as always, and Potions was a horror, he mucked up a simple Boil Reducer and his father was so disgusted he told him to stay after and do it over, which caused Harry's temper to snap, and he got cheeky with the Potions Master, earning himself a swift detention.

All in all, it was turning out to be a terrible week. The only bright spots in it were the Quidditch match coming up, Rosie, and his morning talks with Aria, who always seemed to be able to put things in perspective for him.

He did a lot of writing in his red journal at night, and apologizing to his father when he arrived for detention that Friday evening. Severus was furious over his son's disrespect and threatened to make him miss the Quidditch match on Saturday if he didn't alter his attitude between now and then.

"And if you think I won't do it, Harry, think again. You've been acting like a cranky rude brat all week and I've had it. Furthermore if you ever address me with such disrespect in my class again, you'll have detention for a month and be grounded as well. Now start cutting up those rat spleens, young man, and when you've done with that you can scrape the lab tables and scrub the floor."

Harry hung his head. "Yes sir. Sorry, Dad."

"You ought to be. Now get to work," his father ordered, sending Harry off to the supply cabinet at the back of the lab with a none-too-gentle swat.

His son obeyed, feeling miserable and ashamed, it was rare that Severus gave out a smack in addition to a lecture, so he knew the man was quite angry with his abominable behavior. He opened the cabinet and got out a sharp knife and a large container with the rat spleens and a bowl. He swore he'd control himself from now until Saturday, no matter how angry he still was with his two best friends, because the last thing he wanted was to be banned from the Quidditch match.

After cutting up all the spleens, a disgusting task even with gloves and a face mask on, he was grateful to get the bucket and the scrub brush and start scrubbing and scraping, at least his hands were cleaned that way. It took him two and a half hours to finish and by that time his hands were red and stinging.

"I'm finished, sir." He announced as he made his way back up to Severus's desk.

Severus was just about finished too, grading this week's pile of essays, and he rose to inspect Harry's handiwork. "Acceptable, Mr. Snape. I trust you've learned your lesson?"

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, Dad. I wasn't really mad a t you, I'm mad at Ron and Hermione."

"Ah. But you unleashed your smart mouth on me," said his father disapprovingly. "All right, I forgive you, child. But don't let this happen again."

"I won't."

"Now, let me see those hands, son."

"I'm fine, Dad," Harry protested, he hated to be fussed over.

Severus eyed him then reached out one long-fingered hand and flipped Harry's palm up, revealing the reddened skin from gripping a brush and repeated immersion in hot soapy water. "Humph. They don't look fine by my lights. Come here." He drew Harry over to the back of the lab, where the sink was and poured some strange blue gunk in a bowl. "Put your hands in that and let them soak for five minutes."

Harry obeyed, finding the blue stuff pleasantly cool and not greasy on his poor hands. "What is this stuff, Dad?"

"Murtlap essence salve. It heals most cuts and bruises, even lacerations, very quickly. It's the main ingredient in many healing salves. I use it on my own hands if I've been handling something that causes skin irritation."

Harry allowed his hands to remain in the soothing blue salve for the required time, then withdrew them. His hands were smooth and healed, all the redness vanished. "Wow! That stuff works great."

"Yes. It's one of the best healing herbs we have. Only problem is it has to be harvested correctly, otherwise it's useless." He banished the remainder of the salve with a wave of a hand and muttered "Evanesco!" Then he beckoned Harry out of the classroom and locked the door behind them.

They returned to the Snape apartments, where Harry quickly fed Rosie and then Severus asked him point blank what was bothering him. "Normally I wouldn't interfere in a personal quarrel, but you're letting your feelings over whatever happened affect your classwork and studies and that concerns me. Would you like to talk about it?"

They were seated in the den, Severus had changed out of his professor's robes and into more casual and comfortable attire, a pair of Muggle trousers and a soft midnight blue collared shirt with a bald eagle on it that he'd purchased in America. He'd even discarded his boots for a very comfortable pair of leather slippers (which bore tiny tooth marks from Rosie on one side, she'd chewed them when she was a tiny puppy). Harry was also dressed in his usual jeans and a long sleeved dark emerald green T-shirt, he'd kicked off his trainers and was curled on one side of the couch in his socks.

Severus had summoned a glass of pumpkin juice for Harry and a small glass of honey wine for himself. Harry eyed the glass askance, his father rarely indulged and he was worried he'd truly irritated the man with his smart mouth if Sev was drinking. But the professor made no move to drink the glass of wine resting on the table at his elbow. Instead he leaned forward and looked at Harry with concern in his dark eyes.

Harry took a gulp of pumpkin juice before beginning with Scabber's disappearance and Ron's accusation that Rosie had eaten the rat since she'd been in the vicinity with blood on her mouth when the rat had vanished. "But so was Crookshanks, Dad. And if you ask me, a cat's ten times more likely to eat or kill a rat than my beagle. Rosie hunts rabbits and squirrels, not rats. Even though she never cared much for Scabbers, I don't think she'd ever kill him."

Severus was silent for a long moment. "I take it Ron does not share your views?"

Harry scowled. "Share them? Ha! He's totally irrational, Dad. He refuses to consider that Scabbers could have just run off, he insists Rosie murdered it. And Hermione is the same, says her cat is innocent and blames Rosie. I've had it with both of them. Bloody damn idiots!"

"Language, Harry," reproved Severus softly.

"Sorry. Anyhow, that's why I've been so, uh, grouchy and nasty this past week. I apologize, I shouldn't have taken out my mood on you."

"I forgive you, son," said his father and he reached out to tousle his son's hair. "We all have weeks like this. It's hard when you're at odds with the people you care about."

"Were you ever fighting like this with Moony, Dad?"

"No, but your mother and I didn't speak to each other for two weeks after that Mudblood incident," Severus recalled. "I wasn't fit company for anyone during that time, I snapped and snarled at everyone. Madam Pomfrey threatened to hit me over the head with a crutch, if I remember correctly."

Harry snickered, imagining the stout matron chasing the young Sev around the infirmary with a crutch. "I wish they'd just trust me."

"Perhaps when they have had time to think about the situation, they'll come round to your way of thinking. I don't think this one incident should spell the end of your friendship, though. If you think their friendship is worth something, then don't let it go, Harry. Fight for it."

Harry hoped not either, for except for Aria, Ron and Hermione were his two closest friends here at Hogwarts. "Okay, Dad. I will." Recalling his other good friend Neil, made him wonder if he had any mail, and he glanced quickly at the silver platter Snape kept by the door for Hedwig and Streak to deliver letters on if Harry or he were not at home.

"You've got mail, Harry," said his father, indicating the rather large manila envelope on the tray.

Harry bounded off the couch and grabbed the letter off the tray, saying excitedly, "It's from Neil. I wrote him a week or so ago." He tore open the envelope. Inside was a long parchment in Neil's characteristic loopy handwriting and a picture of a slightly younger Neil holding a small gray and white Alaskan Klee-klai, which was a mini husky.

"That must be Neil and Skip, before Skip died," said Harry, showing the photo to his father before flopping down on the couch to read the letter.

Dear Harry,

Sounds like that school of yours is jumping, dude. Merlin! Escaped convicts invading your dorm and vanishing rats and that dumbass Draco, nothing like that ever happens over here. It's always the same old boring thing. The most excitement we had was when Mike threw the wild party back in November. That girl of yours, Aria, sounds like one hot babe. I'd hang on to her, pal.

Things over here are pretty much the same, except I got Master Thurgood to let me study Advanced Potions with him and he says if I continue to do well in it, he'll recommend me for the AMA Potions Master course, which would be awesome. Tell your dad I said hi and thanks a million for tutoring me, I wish I could take some more courses with him over the summer. Hey, how about you guys coming back here for the summer? The shore in the summer is awesome, we could go to the boardwalk and the beach and just hang out.

The Nimbus flies like a dream, buddy, and Mike and his friends are sooo jealous, I've got a better broom than any of them and it once belonged to Harry Potter (Snape really) besides! You should have seen Rick's face when I told him that. He looked like he'd swallowed a frog! Mom and Dad have said if I get good enough grades in magic and regular school they'll get me a puppy over the summer. So I'm turning into a geek, ‘cause I really want another dog. Maybe I'll get a beagle too or a golden retriever.

Tell those friends of yours they better quit being such A-holes or else I'm gonna fly over there and knock their heads together, me and Mike too. Oh yeah, Captain Ascot sent me a signed photo, courtesy of the Professor. Said your dad told him I was a fan too. You've got an awesome dad, Harry. Strict as a damn drill sergeant sometimes, but awesome.

Oh, and something odd's going on with your cousin Melody and her family. I know you know her husband's an absolute jerk off, even Mom doesn't like him, and she usually likes everybody. I've been hearing a lot of fighting going on there lately and once or twice I saw Mia in the backyard, crying. But when I asked her what the matter was, she just said her daddy was starting things again and that's all. I took her flying with me to cheer her up, but I think something's not right there and I've been trying to keep an eye on them.

I spoke with your aunt Aurelia and she says Devon's threatening to divorce Melody and marry some tart and he wants Mia too, only Melody would never give her up, so that's why they're arguing all the time. Sure wish I could hex the ass and not get in big trouble. He'd make a nice lawn gnome. Anyway, just thought you should know.

Good luck in your Quidditch match, Snape! Try and stay out of trouble! Not!

Neil

P.S. I sent you a picture of me and Skip, so you could see what he looked like. I was ten when we took that. See you this summer (I hope!)

Harry read the last part of the letter twice before turning to his dad and telling him what Neil had said.

Severus looked alarmed and said, "I'm going to write Aurelia right now. If that bastard tries anything with Mel or Mia I'm going to knock his arse all over the Eastern seaboard, I swear by Merlin's staff. I warned Mel he wasn't to be trusted."

He walked over to his desk and began writing a letter to Aurelia, who was his mother Eileen's sister, and one of the few Prince relations he kept in contact with. They had stayed in her house for six months after discovering the truth about Harry's real parentage. If anyone could give him details about what was going on with Melody and her husband, it was Aunt Relia.

He was finished in about three minutes and then he whistled for Streak, his tawny owl and sent the letter off with him. Hopefully he'd have a reply back in a few days, he'd instructed Streak to remain at Aurelia's residence until she sent him back with a reply. Based on his aunt's letter, he would then decide whether or not to get involved with his cousin's personal life. Melody was a few years his junior and he considered her his younger sister, and if that bounder of a husband was doing anything to hurt her or her daughter, Severus would soon make him wish he'd never seen the light of day.

Harry tensed a bit upon seeing the rather grim expression on the Potion master's face, but then calmed when he realized his father wasn't angry at him, but probably Devon. "So, when are you going to go over there and kick his arse, Dad?"

"As soon as I have the full story form Aunt Relia," answered the other. "Then I can decide what to do about Mel's rotten husband."

"I can help you," Harry offered eagerly. "Maybe you could send him a potion that'd shrink his, uh, privates. Or how about one that'd make him fall in love with a cow? Or maybe you could just beat him with an ugly stick, that way no woman would ever want him."

Severus eyed his son askance. "Sometimes you really worry me, Harry."

"Why?"

"Your mind seems to have a natural bent for revenge."

"So? It's Devon, he's scum, Dad. Why not make him suffer?"

Severus pursed his lips. "You're growing more like a Slytherin every day, son. As for Devon . . .rest assured he'll pay for all the misery he put my family through, if I have anything to say about it."

"Can I watch?"

"Harry!" Severus scolded. "I think it's time you went to bed, you bloodthirsty little brat. You'll need all of your strength for tomorrow's match."

"Uh-huh. I'll make sure I get some sleep. Uh, Dad? What team will you be cheering on tomorrow?"

Severus paused an instant before responding with a smirk, "I have to support my House, Harry. It'd be bad form if I didn't, since I'm the Head. However, I won't mind if you knock Malfoy off his broom and catch the Snitch, Harry Remus. Have a good game tomorrow, son. I'll be watching."

Harry grinned. Then he went over and gave his dad a quick hug. "Night, Dad. Neil says to tell you thanks and you're an awesome teacher. I agree."

"Flatterer," chuckled his father, giving him a return squeeze then letting him go. "Bed, mister. Before you're too tired to see straight and Malfoy catches the Snitch out of sheer luck."

"In his dreams, the sodding prat!"

"Harry! Must I fetch a bar of soap, young man?"

Harry blanched. "No! I'm sorry, Dad. Really." He backed quickly away from his parent, knowing all the while that running wouldn't save him if Snape decided he deserved a good mouth soaping. Severus had already administered that punishment before, when he caught Harry swearing at Malfoy one day for insulting Aria. It was not something Harry wanted to repeat, especially not now!

Snape frowned at his offspring sternly, then said, "I'll let it go. But only this once, mind. Next time, you'll eat soap for two minutes, am I clear?"

"Crystal, Dad. I'll watch my mouth," Harry promised fervently. Then he slipped into his bedroom, accompanied by Rosie. His father was right, he really needed to get some sleep, so he was alert and ready for the game tomorrow, but also because when he was sleeping his mouth was quiet and less inclined to say things he didn't mean.

• * * * * * *

Harry was up at dawn, flying practice loops with Aria above the Quidditch pitch. The hawk was swift and kept Harry on his toes, weaving in and out of the goal posts and sometimes blurring into a dive, making Harry chase her right down to the ground, then turning on a wingtip and soaring right back into the brilliant blue sky again. It was a magnificent day, not a cloud in the sky, and warm for the beginning of April. Easter was in two weeks and Harry was primed and ready for this game.

He flew for a good two hours, pursuing the elusive Lupin all over the sky, until he'd exhausted her. When she landed on the ground and slipped from hawk to human, he hovered slightly above her, a delighted smirk on his face.

"What are you smirking for, Snape?" she demanded, panting softly.

"I finally caught you, Lupin!" he crowed. "The magnificent Seeker outlasts the Louisiana Lightning Bolt!"

"You got lucky, is all."

"Oh no, I didn't! C'mon, admit it, Aria, I won that round."

Aria frowned, she didn't like being shown up by a wizard on a broom, it went against her pride as a slipper.

"If you want to think so, Snape, be my guest. But you'd better save some of those moves, hotshot, for when you face off against Malfoy. Word around the Serpent House is that he's planning some kind of cheat."

Harry shrugged dismissively. "Typical. I'd expect that of him, he's always cheated. That's how he got to be Seeker for Slytherin, he bought his way in, had his dad buy the whole team Nimbus 2001's."

"Yeah, bribery sounds like his style," Aria said disparagingly. "He's a rattler, if ever there was one. Pity I can't do to him what we do to rattlers down South."

"What's that?"

"Chop off their heads and toss ‘em in the garbage."

"Maybe I'll do that today, Lupin. You gonna watch the game this time?" He knew Aria, like Hermione, had no love for Quidditch.

"Since you asked, Snape, yeah, okay," she agreed reluctantly. "Somebody's got to keep an eye on your back."

"I can take care of myself, Lupin," bristled the younger Snape.

"No doubt, but a second pair of eyes never hurts. ‘Specially mine."

Harry gazed into her bright amber orbs and sighed. "Whatever. See you at the game. I need to go eat."

He dismounted and tucked his Meteor under an arm before returning to the hall for a rather early breakfast. He was not all that hungry, he never was before a major game, but he forced himself to eat some oatmeal, fruit, and a bite or two of sausage. He ate quickly, anxious to avoid Ron and Hermione, for he didn't want to get into another quarrel before practice, he needed to stay focused on the game.

He looked up to see his father eyeing him from the staff table and gave him a sort of half-smile, then he told Rosie to go and beg scraps from Severus, who despite his complaining over the beagle and her chewing, could never resist those soulful brown eyes. Neither could Harry, but Harry had nothing else to give the begging scamp.

Rosie trotted up to the staff table and slid under Sev's chair, whimpering a bit so he would know she was there, then waiting with the patience of a saint for him to slip her some food under the table.

"Honestly, Severus!" scolded Minerva gently. "You spoil that dog, feeding her off of your plate."

The Potions Master coughed guiltily, and pulled his hand out from beneath the tablecloth. "I'm not feeding her, Minerva. I just dropped something on the floor."

Minerva's lips quivered. "Severus, you're losing your touch. You used to be able to lie circles around me and now you can't even make up a good excuse to save your life. Must be Harry's influence."

Severus merely snorted, concealing his slight flush beneath his napkin. Damn it all, but the woman was right! He wasn't up to his usual swift repartee these days, for he was trying to set a good example for his son, who already had problems controlling his temper and his smart mouth. Harry certainly didn't need instruction on the finer points of lying, not to mention the fact that Severus didn't tolerate being lied to.

It was an odd peeve for a former spy to have, Snape supposed, but there it was. He nudged another piece of sausage off his plate and slipped it to Rosie, who gobbled it delightedly, wagging her tail.

Minerva just shook her head in amusement. It was a rare day that Severus unbent in public enough to be teased by his fellow staff members, but the little beagle had provided the leverage and she was not going to miss opportunity, not for all the gold in Gringotts.

"I don't need to excuse anything to you, Minerva," Severus said rather stiffly, and continued to feed his dog. Merlin, but he felt as if he were living with Aurelia all over again, the way these women scolded him over giving the poor dog some table scraps. As if they hadn't been doing that very thing the day before!

Rosie settled down on Snape's feet with a blissful sigh, content so long as she was being fed and loved.

• * * * * * *

Slytherin faced off against Gryffindor that afternoon, the Captains Wood and Flint giving each other death glares from behind their goggles despite Madam Hooch's direct order to shake hands and play fair. Their rivalry was long standing and the only thing they cared about was playing the game well enough to knock the other off their broom.

Harry was crouched low over his Meteor, one hand gripping the handle over Ascot's signature, waiting for the whistle to blow. Then it sounded and he kicked off, the Meteor's supercharged start propelling him over sixty feet straight up in an eyeblink.

He could see the Quaffle being thrown and caught by one of the Slytherin Chasers, Fred or George, he couldn't make out which twin, batting away a Bludger homing in on Katie Bell, and then he shifted his focus for one split second to the stands, where he saw his father in the Slytherin box, scanning the pitch for his son and Harry smiled. Next to him was Aria. Watch this, Dad!

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of gold and spun the broom and dived, bringing the sheer speed of the professional broom to bear. The Meteor shot down like a bolt from on high, speeding past a flabbergasted Draco on his Nimbus 2001, leaving the Slytherin choking on Harry's dust.

Ha! Eat that, Draco! Harry thought triumphantly as he reached out to snatch the blurring golden globe.

Only to find the Snitch had veered a quarter turn out of reach and he was forced to loop back around to find it. Blast! Next time don't be so bloody overconfident, Snape! He berated himself sternly, ignoring the shouts from the stands.

Thirteen minutes later the score was tied, twenty to twenty, and Draco was coming up on his left, out for blood.

"Out of my way, Potter!"

"Stick it up yours, Malfoy!"

Harry swerved neatly, avoiding the Bludger streaking from below.

He smirked as Malfoy just narrowly avoided it, watching the Slytherin yelling for an assist from one of his Beaters, who managed to knock the persistent black ball away from the swerving Seeker eventually.

Meanwhile, Harry looped about the pitch, eyes peeled for any sign of the elusive Snitch.

The Beaters for his own team, the Weasley twins, made certain no Bludger interfered with his flying, but that did not help him locate the slippery golden ball any quicker. Harry narrowed his eyes. Focus, Snape! It's here somewhere, you know it is. Eyes of a hawk, Harry.

That was something Aria had taught him, how to focus his eyes on seemingly nothing, so they could be alerted when something moved across his line of sight. It was how a hawk hunted, by using motion to locate prey. He hovered, his eyes tracking along the stands, where the students and staff were screaming and waving banners.

Suddenly his eye was caught by a movement far up in the stands, where no one was sitting. But it was not a flash of bright gold, but a shadow of black fur. Harry's eyes turned to focus on the clot of black and saw a large black dog standing in the upper tier, watching him.

Harry didn't know how he knew that, but he did. The dog was looking right up at him and he felt an icy shiver meander down his spine. Trelawney's voice echoed in his ears. You have drawn the Grim . . .you will die within the year, Harry Snape!

He shook his head. No, that was wrong, the Grim was a sign of misfortune. His fate was not to die, no matter if there was a strange black dog watching him. Get a grip, Harry! Just play Quidditch and forget about the ruddy dog!

Malfoy laughed and sped past him again, taunting, "What's the matter, Potter? See something that scared you?"

Harry's lips thinned. The dog was probably some scheme by Malfoy to scare him. Hadn't Aria warned him that Malfoy was going to try and cheat?

He spun and followed the Slytherin's green robes, snarling, "I see something that scares me every time I look at you, Malfoy! Your face, ferret boy!"

"Eat this, Potter!" shouted the blond, and he tossed a handful of glittering blue powder at Harry.

Harry's instinctive dive caused him to miss inhaling most of it, but a good deal of the stuff went up his nose.

An instant later he felt his eyes and nasal passages start to burn and water and he began to sneeze uncontrollably. Ah, Merlin help me! That was sneezing powder.

Sneezing powder was harmless, a joke product that caused a person to sneeze and cough uncontrollably for a period of fifteen minutes, as if you had awful allergies. But it was enough to cause Harry to halt and try and wipe his streaming eyes, coughing and sneezing, unable to locate the Snitch or anything else through his watering eyes.

Down in the stands, Severus frowned, squinting sharply and shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Something wasn't right with Harry. He wasn't flying any more, instead he appeared to be having some kind of coughing fit, his body shaking over his broom.

"Professor, there's something the matter with Harry," Aria observed, her keen eyes picking out the shivering form despite the distance. "Looks like he's having an allergy attack or something."

"Impossible. He doesn't have allergies, Miss Lupin. Madam Pomfrey's tested him already," disagreed the tall wizard.

"Sure doesn't look that way, sir," Aria remarked in concern.

There was a cheer from the Slytherins as Flint scored a goal and Slytherin was now ahead seventy to fifty.

"C'mon, Harry, suck it up and get back in the game!" Aria found herself yelling, much to her astonishment. She didn't even like Quidditch, yet here she was cheering on a member of the opposite team. She ignored the shocked and furious glances of her Housemates, though none of them said anything since their professor was there, instead focusing on Harry. Damn it, this is Malfoy's doing. I warned you, Snape.

Flint was congratulating Malfoy on his underhanded little trick, exhorting him to hurry and find the Snitch, when Rosie startled Aria and Severus by baying loudly.

"Hey, what's with you, girl?" asked Aria, looking at the small dog, who was standing up and looking towards the top tier of seats, baying angrily.

Aria followed the dog's gaze and saw, for the briefest instant, a large black dog silhouetted against the sky.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes and it was gone.

Rosie bayed frantically, her paws scrabbling on the bench, until Snape yelled at her to quit it and settle down.

Chastised, the beagle crept under the bench and lay down inbetween his feet, her feelings injured by the professor's sharp scolding.

Up above, Harry had at last managed to get his sneezing and watery eyes under control and was now trying to locate the Snitch once more. He zoomed about the Gryffindor goal post, where the Keeper, Wood, cried, "Look sharp, Snape, and catch the wicked globe, aye?"

"I'm trying!" Harry shouted back, concealing a smile at Wood's Scottish accent, which became more pronounced when he was agitated.

Malfoy was hovering, trying to find where the Snitch had gone as well, when Harry saw it just above and to the left of him. He kicked the Meteor and swooped down on Malfoy like a crimson bird of prey, causing the other boy to scream and duck away.

Harry was forced to swerve hard to avoid a collision, and the Snitch remained tauntingly out of reach. "Bloody hell!" he shrieked, totally frustrated. He should have caught that!

Furious at himself, Harry brought the Meteor about in a sharp hairpin curve, a feat that only this particular broom could perform, and streaked after the fluttering golden globe.

Just as his fingers brushed the smooth surface of the Snitch he felt a jolt of bone piercing cold shoot through him.

It was as if someone had stabbed him with thousands of icy needles. He felt his entire body seize up and freeze, his muscles trembling and weak, and an awful wave of soul-chilling, mind-numbing fear crashed over him.

What? What's happening? I don't understand! His mind babbled in panic as the stands went deathly still, the voices hushed and muted by the terrible wave of fear projected by the clot of dementors that had suddenly appeared upon the field below, shadow tattered forms with skeletal limbs drifting upward silently.

Harry tried frantically to breathe, to focus, but spots danced before his eyes. Oh God, what's wrong with me? So scared . . .Dad, where are you? His hands shook so badly he could barely hold onto the Meteor. There was an odd sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he could hear, somewhere in the distance, a woman screaming.

He closed his eyes, sickening waves of fear ripping through him and the screaming became words and suddenly he was no longer flying, but being held in his mother's arms.

"Lily! He's here, take Harry and get out! Hurry! I'll hold him off."

"James, no! You can't . . .!"

"Get out, Lily! Damn it, do as I say, woman. For Harry's sake, if not yours! Run! Please! Severus will never forgive me if anything happened to either of you!"

There came the sound of wood splintering and a green flash lit up the room.

He buried his head in his mum's shoulder, bawling hysterically.

Then a cold icy voice hissed, "Give me the boy, woman. Stand aside and let me have him and you shall be spared."

"Never! Go bugger yourself, Riddle!" cried Lily. "You'll have my baby over my dead body."

"That can be arranged, woman!" laughed the cruel voice. He pointed his wand at Harry.

"No! Not my Harry! Leave him alone!"

He heard his mother's voice, screaming in one desperate wail as she jumped in front of the brilliant flare of green light . . .

Then he was falling . . .

• * * * * * *

To those watching, it seemed as if Harry was paralyzed for five awful minutes, then all at once he lost his grip on the Meteor and flipped upside down, falling from at least sixty feet straight down.

"HARRY!"

Severus's scream was wrenched from his throat, as he watched his son falling, his heart frozen in his chest in terrified disbelief and denial.

Then his wand was in his hand and he was shouting a countercharm for all he was worth. The safety charms on the broom, Sev! They should've activated by now, one part of his mind babbled frantically while the other remained numb, stricken to his soul by the sight of his only child tumbling through the air like a ragdoll tossed by a spoiled child.

His countercharm slowed Harry's fall, but it was not enough. He started to shout out a Cushioning Charm, followed by an Excelsior Shield, anything to reduce the impact, when a blur of gold feathers shot past him with a sharp screech.

Before Severus had time to register anything else, Aria was in the air, closing her talons on Harry, who was now unconscious, plummeting through the air on his broom, heading straight for the knot of dementors, who were hissing and rustling eagerly, their hooded faces lifted towards their latest victim.

No! I won't let you have him, you damn specters! The hawk shrieked defiance and tightened her talons on the limp boy's collar.

She began to beat her wings hard, trying to give him some lift, fighting to slow his downward plunge so he didn't break every bone in his body when he hit the ground.

The hawk fought with every muscle in her sleek body, the shape-slipper gift giving her strength beyond that of a true hawk form.

Even so, Harry continued to fall.

Aria strained upward, cupping her wings to gather as much air as possible.

Then the aura of the dementors slammed into her as well, and she could hear her father screaming as the chimera tore into him.

Blood spattered the ground and the chimera roared and shredded Rene with her paws, drowning out her father's cry of agony.

"Dad! No!" she wailed, shifting into cougar form, but it was too late and the chimera knocked her sprawling . . .dragging Rene away to her lair . . .

The golden hawk faltered, her talons slipping from the back of Harry's robes.

Then she too was plummeting through the air, a crumpled ball of feathers, as together she and the Boy Who Lived crashed from the sky.

The last thing Aria caught was the sound of a beagle howling.