Snape took Harry back to Hogwarts the next morning, and within another week most of the other faculty had returned as well. Then Black and Lupin arrived, much to Harry’s delight. Severus was secretly pleased as well, as the chance to practice new spells on his overly tolerant godfather made Harry a very eager pupil. So eager in fact that Snape began teaching him spells that he really shouldn’t have.

The other professors were at first amused, then bemused, then finally resigned as over the next several weeks, Sirius ended up with green hair, pink hair, purple skin, donkey ears, and other interesting physiognomic changes. Then came the abrupt changes to his clothing, impairments to his abilities to walk, talk, hear, and see, strange compulsions – such as clucking like a chicken every time a house elf appeared… the list went on and on.

Sirius was delighted by the evidence that his godson had inherited the Marauder talent for mischief and seemed not to have noticed that he was Harry’s only target. Severus was gleeful at his ability to exact an indirect revenge for every meticulously remembered affront during his schooldays. Remus was extremely relieved that he did not have a similar target on his forehead. Albus was eager to take the pranks as proof that Harry’s “high spirits” had not been irrevocably crushed or twisted by the Dursleys. Harry was thrilled that everyone seemed to be pleased with him.

And Minerva was growing quietly livid.

Matters finally came to a head when Snape was striding down one of the castle corridors, pleasantly plotting what he could encourage Harry to do next. Abruptly, a small, coal black puppy came skidding around the corner and hurtled towards him.

Snape stopped in surprise. The dog must surely belong to Hagrid, but it was surprisingly cute and harmless for one of his creatures.

Snape’s opinion of the little beast changed as the puppy reached him and immediately began worrying his pantsleg, complete with fierce puppy growls. “Stop that!” Snape ordered sharply, pushing the little creature away with his foot.

He was careful not to kick the puppy – he might be an ex-Death Eater, but even he wasn’t that nasty – but he did give it a sharp nudge. “Bad dog!”

The puppy looked up at him and barked, as if making a rude reply, then dove for his ankle again.

“No! Bad dog!” Snape thundered as he heard his trousers tear, and sure enough the puppy smugly lifted his head, a long strip of black material dangling from his tiny jaws.

Snape cursed and grabbed for the slippery creature, which managed to evade his grasp then caught a mouthful of his robe.

“NO!”

Too late. Another rending noise and then the puppy was dancing away, leaving the edge of Snape’s favorite robe in tatters.

“You horrible little – “ Snape thought briefly of hexing the pup, but in the end merely seized him by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him aloft.

The puppy yelped in surprise as Snape gave him a brief shake. “Bad, bad dog!” he snarled through gritted teeth before tucking the dog under his arm. “I could use puppy parts in several potions, you know,” he told the little cur as he set off again, this time heading for the castle doors and Hagrid’s hut.

The puppy howled as if he could understand the threat, and Snape snapped, “Silence!” He put one hand around the dog’s muzzle to quiet it, and let out a yelp of his own as needle-sharp puppy teeth closed in the webspace between fingers and thumb.

He swore loudly and imaginatively, even as he snatched his hand free and once again grabbed the puppy by its scruff. Then he smacked it soundly on its hindquarters. “BAD DOG!”

The puppy howled as if it was being disemboweled, and he smacked it again. “QUIET!”

“Da!” Harry skidded around the corner. “You found him!”

Snape turned a furious glare on his ward, ignoring the yaps and squirming with which the puppy greeted the new arrival. “Do you know who this flea bitten mutt belongs to?”

Harry burst into laughter. “That’s not a mutt! That’s Padfoot!”

Snape stared at the small dog. It was unquestionably a puppy – and a cute one at that – bearing no relation to Sirius’ animagus form of a grim-like creature. “What?”

Harry nodded, still snickering too hard to speak.

Snape gave the creature another shake. “Well then, turn back, you cretin! What are you waiting for?”

The puppy growled and yipped at him, making a very credible attempt to bite his hand. This time he managed to draw blood, and Snape responded with another, rather enthusiastic smack. The puppy’s yowls echoed off the stone walls.

“Shut up, you melodramatic –“

“Severus Snape! Are you harming that poor little dog?” Minerva McGonagall demanded in awful tones.

Snape froze, instantly regressing to an 11 year old who had been caught out after curfew. “I – I – It’s - ” He finally managed to regain some of his composure and reminded himself he was now an adult and a colleague of the admittedly scary witch. “It’s Black.”

“Of course, it’s black, Severus,” Minerva scolded. “I can see that. Whose is it?”

Harry began to laugh again, but quickly regretted it when Minerva’s gaze fell upon him. “And just what is so amusing, Mr Potter?”

“I – erm – Nothing, Pr’fessor,” Harry gulped, deciding maybe it wasn’t such a good joke after all. “It’s just that Da wasn’t talking about his color. He m-meant that that’s Sirius.”

Snape blinked. Had Harry just been foolish enough to reveal Black’s animagus form?

McGonagall’s jaw dropped. “That puppy is Sirius Black?” she repeated, leaning over to examine the dog more closely. Sirius snuffled at her appealingly and wagged his tail.

Harry nodded. “Yes’m. I – erm – I sort of Transfigured him into a puppy dog.”

“A cocker spaniel, if I’m not mistaken,” Minerva observed absently, still looking over the now quiet puppy. Then her attention focused sharply on what Harry had just said. “You did this, Mr Potter?”

“Erm, yeah…”

Her eyes narrowed and she gave Snape a sharp look. “With your father’s assistance?”

Snape glared back, affronted, even as Harry shook his head. “No’m. All by myself.”

“And did your godfather give his permission?”

Harry darted an anxious glance at the puppy. “Uh… not exactly,” he reluctantly admitted. “It was sort of a – a – surprise. “

Snape and McGonagall exchanged a guarded look. That sort of spell – involuntary animate to animate transfiguration of a mature and powerful wizard – was hardly something your average second year student could do. Snape hoped McGonagall wouldn’t point that out, as Harry’s self-esteem was still fragile enough that if he thought he shouldn’t be able to do something, then he would lose the ability. If Minerva told him that only extraordinarly strong wizards could do such controlled, focused magic, the boy would immediately decide that he therefore couldn’t do it.

To his relief, Minerva didn’t say anything of the kind, though her lips grew even thinner as she regarded the nervous boy. “If you don’t want me to give you a surprise, Mr Potter – and a highly unpleasant one at that – you will Transfigure your godfather back to normal this instant.”

Harry swallowed hard and hastily drew his wand. “Yes, ma’am.”

Snape quickly deposited the puppy on the ground as Harry frowned in concentration. A brief incantation later, and Sirius sat where the puppy had been.

“Merlin, that was weird!” Sirius gasped, leaping to his feet and patting himself all over, as if to reassure himself that he had been properly reconstituted. “I couldn’t change or anything!”

“Well, of course not,” McGonagall snapped before anyone else could. “You were under an external geas. You were, for all intents and purposes, a cocker spaniel, which is not a noticeably magical breed.” She turned back to where Harry had been hoping to sidle away. “And how exactly did you learn that incantation, Mr Potter?”

“Uh, well, you did it,” he pointed out hesitantly. “With the troll… And then I saw it in one of Da’s books, and, erm, it seemed really cool, so…”

“And it was, Harry!” Sirius assured him hastily, then turned a baleful look at Snape. “Until somebody attacked me.”

“What?” Snape demanded furiously. “You attacked me!” He brandished his ripped trouser leg. “Remember this?”

“You kicked me!”

“I pushed you away, you stupid mutt! And just why were you attacking my ankle anyway?”

“Me? I was a harmless, cute, little puppy!”

“Harmless? Ha! You were as big a menace as usual! Look! I’m bleeding!”

“That’s just a scratch!” Sirius scoffed, then rubbed his backside and winced. “I’m likely black and blue from where you beat me!”

“Beat you? I’ll show you –“

“Enough!” McGonagall’s voice cut through their escalating argument. “Both of you. Go see Poppy.”

The two wizards blinked at her. “But –“

“GO!”

With mutual glowers of antipathy and muttered exchanges of “This is all your fault”, the men reluctantly moved off. “Er, I could go with them,” Harry offered.

“Not quite yet, Mr Potter.” McGonagall’s glare nailed him to the spot. “This latest prank of yours had the capability to be quite dangerous, and my patience with all of you is running thin.”

Harry bit his lip nervously. He hadn’t seen Professor McGonagall this upset since the time that Ron and Draco had tried hexing each other’s hedgehogs and managed to turn the entire class’ supply into one giant pincushion. And what did she mean “all of you”? It was just him playing the pranks on Padfoot. “Sorry,” he quickly supplied, hoping to mollify the witch.

“I will have Madame Pince send you a book on Transfiguration hazards, and I expect a 3 foot report on it by this time next week. If you are able to carry out such complex transfigurations, young man, then you had best be aware of what you are doing.”

“Yes’m,” Harry agreed quickly. She had a point, and a three foot essay wasn’t that bad.

“And while I am still at the castle, we had best arrange for some additional lessons,” she mused, as much to herself as Harry. “Better to find out exactly how far this talent stretches before there are other students to deal with as well.” Her gaze sharpened as she refocused on him. “An early bedtime will not be amiss either, Mr Potter. You may enjoy the rest of your afternoon as you see fit, because after dinner, I expect you to go directly to your room and bed.”

He opened his mouth to argue – in bed by eight o’clock?! In the summer???!! It wasn’t even like school was in session or she was still his Head of House! – but he suddenly realized he was unexpectedly tired, and even the thought of protesting the punishment was rather too strenuous. Besides, it was pretty clear that the school calendar had little to do with anything. He nodded obediently. “Yes, Auntie Min. I really am sorry.”

McGonagall sighed to herself. Well, at least it wasn’t a Weasley. “Very well, Mr Potter. I’m glad we understand one another.” At her gesture of dismissal, Harry trudged away, stifling a yawn. His dignity wouldn’t allow him to take a nap – not after being subjected to such an outrageously early bedtime – but he thought that wandering down to Hagrid’s hut might be a good idea. The giant was always happy to see him and he might be able to stay awake when he saw whatever creature Hagrid was nursing back to health this week. If not, and he ended up snoozing in the sun with Fang, Hagrid wouldn’t mind one bit.

Minerva watched Harry’s departure, then wasted no time marching to Remus’ new quarters. She found him there, working on his lesson plans, and did not mince her words. “Young man, I am very disappointed in you!”

Remus blinked. What had he done now? He hadn’t heard that tone from Minerva since she had accused him of complicity in James’ and Sirius’ graduation prank.

Happily, she wasn’t waiting for him to respond and swept on. “What is wrong with you? Sitting there like a lump while chaos reigns around you! I expected better of my replacement – temporary though you may be.”

Light dawned. “Oh. You mean Harry and, ah, the pranks?”

“You are turning that boy into a prize brat, Remus, and I will not stand for it!”

“But Sirius doesn’t really mind, and it’s making Severus so happy – “ Remus protested.

McGonagall cut him off. “ - And it is doubtless helping to assuage your conscience as well, but that is irrelevant. The three of you alleged adults are using an innocent child to work out your own grievances, and you are corrupting him in the process.” She glared at him fiercely. “What do you imagine Lily would have to say if she knew that you were encouraging Harry to behave as badly as James at his worst? Hexing and ambushing someone like that?”

“Sirius doesn’t really mind,” Remus whined, then cringed at the lameness of his excuse.

“No, because he sees this as further proof that Harry is just like James, and how do you suppose it will make Harry feel when he realizes that? He will, you know. He’s quite a clever child.” Remus shifted uncomfortably. “And instead of helping Sirius to see the many differences between James and Harry and to come to appreciate Harry in his own right, you are encouraging this fantasy, because you feel that Sirius is finally getting punished a bit for making Severus so unhappy when you were all in school together and when you, as a prefect, should have stepped in but didn’t. Allowing him to be pranked now does not make up for shirking your duty twenty years ago.”

Remus was squirming in shame. “But –“

McGonagall wasn’t through with him yet. “And while I am disappointed in Severus as well, it would require superhuman restraint on his part not to enjoy seeing Sirius Black suffer a fraction of what he dished out. But we both know that if Harry is permitted to enjoy carte blanche in hexing adults, it will be a very easy step for him to start pranking his classmates and others when school resumes. How confusing do you think it will be for him if he is suddenly punished for doing what you have encouraged all summer long? You three have led him right to the top of this slippery slope and are poised to push him over the edge for the sake of your own demons. Is this how you are planning to carry out your duties as Head of House?”

“No, Professor,” Remus said meekly, his face flaming.

“Then I expect you to handle this. I had high hopes that you would – at last – be a buffer between Severus and Sirius and enforce some peace between those two. Do not disappoint me again.” She glared at him. “Go hex each other or punch each other or get drunk together or whatever it is that men do to sort things out, but I expect this nonsense to end. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.” She swept out, managing just as dramatic an exit as if she had taken robe-swirling lessons from Snape. Behind her, Remus let out a long breath and mopped his forehead.

That evening, Harry managed – barely – not to nod off in the middle of dinner, but his da had to escort his stumbling feet down to the dungeons. “I dunno why I’m so tired,” Harry protested, after yet another jaw-cracking yawn.

Snape rolled his eyes. Of course the brat hadn’t realized the enormous amount of magic he’d expended in transfiguring Black into a puppy and then back again. It was a wonder the boy was still vertical, considering how much he must have depleted his core. There was a reason that the children slowly worked their way up from needles and matchsticks. Ah well, he was confident that Minerva would explain to the little miscreant. She’d been furious enough when she stumbled across the boy’s activities earlier that day. “Go to sleep,” he told Harry, helping tug the drowsy boy out of his robes. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“ ‘Kay,” Harry mumbled, sleep rapidly overtaking him. “ ‘N’ tell Pr’fessor McGonagall I went right to bed, ‘kay? She –“ yawn “- told me I had t’go –“ yawn “ – straight to bed after dinner ‘s punishment…”

Snape levered the brat into bed and covered him over with the duvet, noting that Harry was already slipping into the deep, restful breaths of early sleep. He huffed to himself. That was just like McGonagall – assigning a punishment that was exactly what the little wretch was going to do anyway. Far be it from her to actually assign something onerous to the boy.

A few hours later, Harry became groggily aware of a knocking on their door, and he roused enough to recognize his godfather and Remus’ voices before slipping back into slumber.

He was never sure exactly what happened among the three men that night, but the next day, his da sat him down – in the presence of Moony and Padfoot – and rather uncomfortably informed him that the prank war had officially ended. Sirius was still willing to let Harry practice spells on him, but it would be in the controlled context of a lesson. Sirius nodded agreement, then unexpectedly gave Harry a serious look. “You do know that I love you, right, pup? I mean, I love you. Not just because you’re James’ Pronglet. But because you’re you. Harry.”

Harry blushed. Where was all this mushiness coming from? “Yeah, I know, Padfoot,” he mumbled, half-embarrassed by such naked sentiment and half-delighted that his godfather had come straight out and said it.

“And, you are obviously aware that your godfather and I are not… enemies,” his da said awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the other wizards. “Though we might occasionally engage in, ah, disputes.”

Harry nodded blankly. Well, sure, he knew that. Hadn’t his da rescued his godfather from Izkibibble and all? And it’s not like they’d really hurt each other yesterday for all their yelling and arguing. Actually, they were a lot like Ron and Draco in that regard.

“And as your soon-to-be Head of House, Mr Potter,” Moony said, a smile taking away the sternness of his words, “I am here to tell you that you had best leave any further pranking to the Weasley twins, whom I understand are very talented in that regard, unless you want to join them in some highly disagreeable detentions.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “I kinda figured that I wasn’t allowed to do any more after what Auntie Min said yesterday.”

Snape choked back his instinctive reaction to the witch's new title though he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Black and Lupin were now gaping at Harry with slack jaws. “Yes, well, you were quite right,” he managed to say calmly. “That was very perceptive.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Perceptive enough for a chocolate frog?” he asked craftily.

“Oh, all right,” Snape grumbled, hiding his pleasure at the brat’s Slytherin nature. He was not only gaining in insight, but he was also learning to equate cleverness with rewards.

Harry happily hurried to the kitchen before his da could change his mind. Merlin, but adults were weird! He’d always known that eventually his prank-fest would have to come to a close, and he was just glad it hadn’t ended with his da being upset or with anyone expecting his da to smack him. Besides, he was going to keep being able to learn all the same cool stuff – and to be honest, it wasn’t really that much fun to prank Sirius.

Truth be told, it kind of made Harry feel a little guilty, especially after Sirius was such a good sport about it all the time. He’d been starting to feel almost like Dudley, picking on someone who wouldn’t fight back, but he hadn’t felt like he could stop – not when his da and Remus and a bunch of the other professors found it funny. He grabbed a chocolate frog and munched it contentedly.

He’d been pretty sure Auntie Min was getting fed up though, and he’d hoped that if she found out he was working with spells in her area without her supervision, she’d go spare. Well, she had, and now thanks to her, he was off the hook, and, far from being upset with him, his da and godfathers were handing out frogs. Harry shrugged. Yeah, adults were weird, but they did come in handy.

###

It was only a few weeks later that Harry’s birthday occurred, and as promised, he and Neville had a double celebration. Neville’s gran was so excited to learn that he had not only made friends at Hogwarts but was also interested in such Wizardly activities as flying, that she turned the birthdays into a two day extravaganza including both a full day at Featherbee’s and a sleepover at their manor, complete with magical fireworks.

The only awkwardness came when Augusta flatly refused to link Malfoy Manor to her home’s floo, even temporarily. Ever since the attack on Neville’s parents, she had ensured that her home was more heavily warded than Gringott’s, and she wasn’t about to allow a known Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy to have access to it – no matter how fleeting. It meant that the children had to meet at Featherbee’s, then travel to Longbottom Manor via Hogwarts, but it was easy enough to excuse that by having the children’s overnight bags sent there, rather than accompanying them to the flying arena. Of course, a simple shrinking spell would have prevented any inconvenience, but none of the children seemed to think of that.

In the end, the children had a wonderful time, and even Draco had to admit that Neville’s gran had gone all out. Harry had been floored by what a real, no-holds-barred, wizarding birthday party could be like, and Neville was quietly proud of bringing such enjoyment to his friends.

After the party, Harry departed to spend a week at the Burrow, though Snape reminded him that he was only a floo call away, and if he got into trouble, he could expect to return to Hogwarts immediately. Harry had mentally rolled his eyes, but had contented himself with merely promising to be very, very good, a sentiment which Auntie Molly resoundingly echoed. “Of course, he’ll be fine, Severus! Don’t worry so!”

Snape had huffed indignantly. Why did all these interfering witches insist that he was an overanxious parent? He was merely threatening the little beggar into good behavior. Then Harry had given him a last quick hug and departed for the Burrow, leaving Snape with some blissful, child-free time.

Much as he wished he could spend it brewing, he still had to finalize the details of next term with Filius, and such arrangements took more time than he had anticipated. Meetings always seemed to spawn more meetings, and at the end of the day it was hard to remember what, if anything, had actually been accomplished. Still, Dumbledore seemed reasonably confident that everything was well in hand, so Snape supposed he didn’t have to worry too much.

Albus and Minerva had already begun their hunt, interviewing Slughorn repeatedly and doing quite a bit of research to boot. Snape decided that this was a good time – before the students returned – to get Lucius started on his assignment. Accordingly, he contacted the blond and flooed to Malfoy Manor to discuss the matter in depth.

When he arrived, he was relieved to learn that Narcissa had taken Draco to visit some of their relatives in France and Luxembourg, so he need not worry about being overheard.

“How is that elf working out for you, Severus?” Lucius drawled lazily, splashing some fire whisky into a tumbler.

“Fine,” Snape replied shortly. “I see you managed to find your summer robes after all.”

Malfoy smirked. “It gave Narcissa an excuse to go shopping. So – to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“You’ll recall I had mentioned an assignment?”

Lucius’ expression grew wary. “Yes…”

“I’m here to explain what I want you to do. It’s quite simple, really.”

Lucius’ countenance didn’t change. “Yes?”

“Overthrow the government.”

Lucius blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and gulped the fire whisky. “Did you just say –“

“Overthrow the government. Fudge’s government, to be precise. I want that idiot ousted.”

“But I helped install him,” Lucius protested.

Snape nodded. “Precisely. So it should be all the more simple for you to remove him.”

“Can I ask why?” Lucius asked cautiously.

Snape regarded his own, untouched, glass. “You need not know all the reasons, but you can know that he threatened the boy.”

“Potter?” At Snape’s nod, Malfoy stroked his jaw. “And so you’re removing him … Very good, Severus. I see you do think ahead.”

Snape put down his tumbler and turned towards the floo. “I prefer to think of it as consolidating my power base, Lucius, but you may term it what you will. I expect Fudge to be gone within the next few months – how you achieve it is your own affair.”

“And whom do you expect to replace him?” Lucius called after him. “Am I expected to arrange that as well?”

“No,” Snape called over his shoulder, leaving behind a very contemplative pureblood.