Hermione sat on her bed staring blankly at the wall in front of her, running through her mental checklist. It helped to have a checklist, to keep her thoughts organized when she had a lot to do. Now, in the early hours of the morning, she had almost everything done. Her trunk was packed with all of her books and clothes. She had completed her summer assignments, and had read and taken notes on all of her textbooks, as well as a couple texts she thought would help with projects she was working on with Harry. Crookshanks was already in his carrier, and she was dressed in her muggle jeans and t-shirt, ready to leave for King’s Cross.

The young witch glanced at her watch, which had been a gift from Harry for her 15th birthday. It was silver, with a picture of an otter on the face, and it was layered with protective charms. She sat for a moment remembering the awkward and nervous Harry who had handed her the box, waited anxiously to see her reaction, and when she smiled at him and thanked him, had broken into a huge goofy grin and pulled her into a bear hug. She shook her head to clear it, still smiling at the memory. You do NOT have a crush on your best friend, she told herself firmly. You don’t.

She hopped off the bed and walked to the mirror. She had grown an inch over the summer and lost a little weight from biking and swimming. Thanks to a potion of her own invention, her hair was no longer an uncontrollable mass, but fell in chocolate brown waves almost to her waist. The fitted shirt showed off her figure, and altogether, Hermione thought the image was quite an improvement. She still looked like herself, but her appearance no longer screamed “Nerd!” She smirked at her reflection. Boy, are some people in for a surprise.

Miles away, Harry stood in front of his mirror, glaring at his own reflection. The boy in the mirror was him, but not him. He still had bright green eyes and black hair, but the hair was… tidier. It was slightly longer, and had a bit of a wave to it, and no longer stuck up at weird angles. His round boyish face was more oval, and he even thought his ears looked different, but chalked that up to his imagination. He had grown too, at least three inches, and his pants were much too short on him. He was by no means unrecognizable, but he looked a lot less like a James Potter clone.

Harry wasn’t sure what he thought about his appearance. All his life he had been told he looked like his dad and it had given him a sense of pride, and a feeling of connection with the father he had never known. But it was also annoying when people only saw James in him, not an individual. Snape hated him because he thought Harry was just like his father. Sirius was just as guilty, though. Sometimes he could have sworn Sirius looked at him and thought he was James. Harry still felt Sirius’s death like a physical wound, but he didn’t allow the pain to show on his face as he surveyed himself in the mirror.

Listening to make sure one of the Dursley’s wasn’t likely to come up to his room, Harry chanced wandless magic. He smiled, remembering when Hermione had let slip that wandless magic by wizards couldn’t be detected, because it was focused differently than magic with a wand, or house elf spells. She had stopped mid-ramble, realizing what uses “her boys” might find for that information. Ron was too absorbed in a game of Exploding Snap with Seamus and Dean to pay attention, but Harry had grinned at her and winked, resolving to master wandless magic during the summer. Now, he applied an almost undetectable glamour to hide the dark circles under his eyes, and a yellow bruise on the side of his neck. Nobody needed to know about Uncle Vernon’s temper, and they didn’t need to know about the nightmares that kept him from getting any rest.

Severus Snape stood in his bathroom, washing his hands. He had just finished brewing the necessary potions for Madam Pomfrey, and was planning on spending the rest of his day preparing lesson plans until the students arrived. Glancing up, he caught sight of his reflection. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. Sighing, he let it loose to hang around his face, completing his “bat” look. During the summer, when he washed his hair every day and didn’t spend all of his time in dungeons full of potion fumes, his hair wasn’t bad. But for the school year he would let it get greasy and disgusting to add to the image the students had of him. Severus sighed again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was getting too old for this.

Time had not been kind to him, he thought, looking at the hook-nosed man in the mirror. His face was prematurely lined and there was some grey mixed with the black of his hair. Years of service to the Dark Lord, and teaching all the Longbottoms, Potters, Crabbes, and Goyles of Hogwarts, had taken their toll. And what do I have to show for all this time? A family? Friends, even? A revolutionary breakthrough in my field? Anything? No, he thought, this is only the shell of a life. He snorted at his own melodramatic thoughts. I’ve been spending too much time around angsty teenagers, he thought, and swept out of the bathroom.

The small mirror hung in the headmaster’s office, sharing the wall with dozens of portraits. Dumbledore smiled at his reflection and adjusted his hat, which was an offensively bright shade of fuchsia, on his head. This year was going to be difficult for some of the people he cared most about, but he knew they could all get through it. There will be changes. Oh yes, will there be changes, but I think they will be for the better, when all is said and done. He turned to his desk and popped a lemon drop in his mouth before exiting the office, humming, to prepare for the welcoming feast.

Harry stepped through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ and back into his world. He could feel the magic all around him, the air charged with energy, and he seamlessly became a part of it again. When he was in the muggle world, he always missed the magic in the air. He caught sight of a sea of red hair which could only be the Weasley clan, but didn't immediately make his way over to them. He and Ron had been growing apart a little over the past year, and hadn't seen each other all summer, and there would be awkward pauses and forced laughter. His eyes scanned the crowds for Hermione.

"Looking for someone?" A familiar voice asked from behind him. He turned, and stopped breathing for a moment. The girl standing there was almost as tall as him, with long, wavy hair, and dancing brown eyes, wearing a muggle t-shirt that showed off a perfect figure. Harry gaped for a moment before schooling his features back into a blank expression. Hermione laughed.

"Well, you look different." He pulled her into a hug. "Good summer?"

"Yeah, it was alright. I'm glad to be back though." She looked up at him, smiling. "You've changed quite a bit yourself. Still shooting up like a weed I see."

"And either you've grown more than I have, or you've taken to wearing heels."

"So I got sick of straining my neck to talk to you."

"Are you saying I'm a pain in the neck?" He smirked as Hermione groaned. "So, shall we go meet up with Ron?"

"Ok. And then we should find a compartment before they're all taken." They started walking, dragging their trunks on carts behind them, and Hermione couldn't resist teasing him about his reaction to her appearance. "So, ‘different' is a good thing, right?" Harry stuck out his tongue at her, and they both laughed.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry called, waving. Ron made his way through the crowd, grinning.

"Hey Harry, hey Herm..." Ron's voice trailed off as he stared at Hermione. "Wow, er, you look... like a girl. I mean, not that you didn't before, just..." She sighed and grinned at him.

"Hi Ron. How was your summer?" Hermione asked.

"Good. What about you guys?"

"Ok."

"It was fine."

"That's good. Er..." Ron looked from Hermione to Harry as the silence stretched on.

"So, you guys want to go grab a compartment?" Harry asked a bit too cheerfully. At this, Ron bit his lip and looked at the ground.

"I kinda... well, I told Seamus and Dean I'd sit with them, you see," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. Hermione looked sad, knowing that this was inevitable. Ron really had a lot more in common with the other boys: the only thing he had in common with her was shared memories, and only that and a love of Quidditch with Harry. Harry seemed to realize it too.

"That's fine Ron. See you later, then?" He attempted a smile.

"Alright. See you at Hogwarts," Ron replied gratefully, before disappearing in the crowd. Harry and Hermione boarded the train and walked until they found an empty compartment. They stored their trunks and Harry collapsed into a seat.

"I've got to go check in, since I'm a prefect, but I'll be back in a couple minutes. Can you behave that long?"

"Yes Mum," Harry replied, making a shooing motion with his hand. Hermione gave him a dirty look before leaving the compartment, to which he responded with a mock glare. When she was gone, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He was tired, unable to sleep more than a couple hours each night because of the nightmares. His parents, Cedric, Sirius and hundreds of faceless ghosts pointed accusing fingers at him. And then they had faces; Hermione, the Weasleys, Hagrid, Remus Lupin, his classmates... Harry opened his eyes to banish the images.

Just then the door slid open and a figure ducked inside, closing the door quickly behind him. Harry found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy, who was crouching right inside the closed door so that people passing outside couldn't see him through the window.

"I thought this compartment was empty," he said, then, catching himself, sneered and added, "If I had known Scarface was in here stinking the place up, I wouldn't have come in." But he made no effort to leave. And Harry noticed the sneer had lacked any real malice. A couple seconds later, Harry realized why he was still there, when Pansy Parkinson passed by, stopping and peering in through the window. Harry smirked at Malfoy, then got up and opened the door a crack.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" he asked.

"I'm looking for Draco," she replied, her high-pitched whiney voice making him wince. Ok, no matter how much he hated Malfoy, handing him over would be too cruel.

"So you think the ferret's in my compartment? That we're just sitting here chatting like the best of buddies we so obviously are?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. She glared at him before turning on her heel and flouncing away. Harry closed the door and sat back down to see Malfoy sitting on the floor and looking at him strangely. "What? I wouldn't wish that on Lord Moldywart."

"Fair enough." Malfoy smirked. "So, Potter, good summer?" He was examining his nails, obviously not caring about the answer to his question, but not ready to venture outside yet.

"Lousy," Harry answered honestly. Malfoy's head shot up, curiosity piqued by that answer. Harry smirked again. "Yours?"

"Potter, you put my father in prison, and you have the audacity to ask me how my summer went? Wouldn't the answer to that be obvious?" Harry frowned, thinking. Even if Lucius Malfoy was a complete bastard, he was still Draco's father. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Malfoy cut him off. "It was the best summer I've had in years." It was Draco's turn to smirk. "Now, why was yours lousy?"

"Why was yours great?"

"I asked you first."

"Fine. I don't get along with my relatives. Especially my uncle."

"I don't get along with my father." They stared at each other, both wondering what the other meant by ‘not getting along'. Harry thought about all the horrible things Draco had said over the years, and wondered if perhaps it was as much an act as the goofy, reckless persona Harry wore in front of teachers and most of the other students. That was what people expected, a James Potter clone, so it was simple for Harry to let them believe that's who he was. Hardly anyone knew the real Harry, so they always underestimated him, which gave him an advantage. He knew there was a reason the Sorting Hat almost put him in Slytherin. Malfoy, though, he would need a mask to protect himself from his father, and to fit in with his housemates, if he disagreed with them. Suddenly Harry was struck by a thought.

"The Sorting Hat, did it want to put you anywhere else?" Draco looked surprised at the question.

"Ravenclaw," he admitted softly. "But everyone in my family has been in Slytherin, so the conversation went something along the lines of, ‘Hmm, keen mind', ‘I want Slytherin', ‘Maybe Raven', ‘No! Slytherin, you ruddy hat!' ‘SLYTHERIN!' Why did you ask?"

"Hat wanted to stick me in Slytherin. I said no." Draco raised an eyebrow. "I had just made my first friend ever, who desperately wanted to be in Gryffindor and informed me that the guy who murdered my parents had been in Slytherin, along with many like him. I wasn't keen on joining the club."

"No, I guess not. You know, Potter, you're not half as bad when you're not around the Weasel."

"You're not so bad when you deflate your head a little and lose the mountain trolls."

"Pansy's not that horrible. I always thought more banshee than troll." They both laughed.

"The world is ending, isn't it? Either that or I'm going insane." Hermione stood in the doorway looking back and forth between the boys, obviously having heard a good part of their conversation. She sat down next to Harry, pulled out her wand, and summoned a pack of muggle gum from her trunk. She gave a piece to Harry, and offered a piece to Malfoy, who took it warily. She grinned. "Don't worry, it's just Juicy Fruit. It isn't hexed."

"And I should believe you why, Mud... Granger?"

"I'm not in a ‘hex Malfoy into a wriggling puddle of goo' mood." She decided to ignore the fact that he started calling her "Mudblood". Actually, she was pleasantl surprised that he caught it and bothered to correct himself.

"That's what I can't figure out. We've all hated each other for five years now. My aunt killed your godfather, Potter. You hate my father, and everything he represents, with good reason. Granger, my family hates you and everyone like you, and I've called you some pretty horrible things. How are you two just fine with me sitting here?"

"Wow, he's right Harry, let's kill him," Hermione said looking over at her friend. She looked back at he blond slytherin boy. "But seriously Draco, the worst you have ever done to us is call us names and try to get us in trouble. Most siblings do worse to each other than that. And I don't think either of us is inclined to hate you because of your family."

"Besides, I still don't like you; can't stand you really. I only saved you from that cow because I have a hero complex." Harry smirked at him, and Draco laughed. Hermione looked confused, so they filled her in on the escape from Pansy, and then they ordered everything on the snack cart and spent the remainder of the ride insulting each other good-naturedly. As they slowed, approaching Howarts, Draco left the compartment to join his Slytherin classmates.

"Got to keep up the image," he said, checking that the coast was clear before stepping out into the aisle and walking away. Hermione shook her head and smiled at Harry. Draco was a pretty good guy when you got to know him, but she had always suspected that. What surprised her was that Harry saw it, since he had always had a fierce, blind hatred towards Draco. Or maybe that was another front that he kept up? She knew he was a lot more intelligent than he let on, and even when he didn't seem to, he knew most of the class material and a lot more. She also knew that despite what he let people believe, he wasn't prejudiced against all Slytherins, but he really disliked both Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape. No, she didn't think that was an act.

"You've changed a lot, haven't you?" she asked suddenly. "I mean, not just your appearance, but the way you look at things, the way you think about things?" Harry looked up at her, and nodded.

"I was actually thinking somewhere along those lines myself. A little more than a year ago, I would have hexed Malfoy out of this compartment the moment I saw him. Now I actually thought about it first. I guess after Cedric died, I grew up a little, and after what happened last year at the Ministry, when Sirius, you know, and... I feel like the whole world's been flipped upside-down. I keep questioning my beliefs and my assumptions. And I can't stop feeling like if I had only learned Occlumency, it would never have happened."

"It wasn't your fault, Harry. Lestrange killed him, and Voldemort set you up. Sirius knew what he was getting into when he went to the Ministry."

"I know all that, but it doesn't change the fact that if I hadn't been so bloody stupid, he might still be here. I did practice Occlumency this summer. Too little, too late, but it might help later on. And I made a lot more progress with the book I bought than with Snape's teaching methods." He banished his glumness and grinned mischievously at her. "And..." He stopped talking as the train came to a halt and students filled the aisle. "I guess we'll talk later."

They climbed off the train and waved to Hagrid, who was gathering the first years for their journey across the lake. He waved back, and the turned to make their way over to the carriages, joining Luna and Neville for the ride back. All of them studiously avoided looking at the thestral that pulled the carriage, or, rather, Neville, Harry, and Hermione avoided it, and Luna seemed too absorbed in The Quibbler to care.

"You know what I want?" asked Neville as they pulled up to the main entrance. They all looked at him. "I want this year to be really, really boring." They laughed and made their way into the great hall for the opening feast.

Harry tumbled into bed after the opening feast, full and content. He fished a bottle of dreamless sleep potion out of his trunk, planning on treating himself to his twice monthly undisturbed night of sleep. Classes would begin in the morning, beginning with NEWT potions, since he had managed an Outstanding on his OWLs. Actually, he had achieved Os in everything but Divination, which he failed, and Astronomy, in which he got an E, grades which pleased, but didn’t seem to surprise, Hermione. Unfortunately, though, Snape would be teaching both Potions and Defense until the new teacher arrived. Harry wondered if this Slughorn character was any good, as all Dumbledore would say at dinner was that the newest addition to the staff was Professor Horace Slughorn, and that he had only been hired the day before and would arrive in a week. He was just hoping Slughorn knew his DADA. Harry downed the contents of the small vial and had only enough time to place his glasses on his nightstand before falling asleep.

The next morning he woke up early and finished showering and getting dressed just as the symphony of magical alarm clocks began in the boys’ dormitory. Harry made his way down to the common room, and spotted a seventh year boy he recognized but didn’t know very well. The stocky blond boy was sitting near the fire, hunched over a book.

“Nice to know I’m not the only early bird around here,” Harry said by way of greeting. “You’re Patrick, right? I’m Harry.” Patrick looked up, revealing dancing brown eyes and light freckles on his nose and cheeks. He looked amused that Harry had introduced himself.

“Yes, my name’s Patrick, or Pat. And I, along with every other wizard and witch in the world, know that you’re Harry Potter, savior of us all. Ready to start another year? What are you going to save us all from this time ‘round?” Harry opened his mouth defensively before realizing that the other boy was joking.

“A giant swarm of nargles,” he replied with a straight face.

“Nargles? What on earth is a nargle?”

“I don’t know, but Luna Lovegood does. You should ask.”

“Do you at least know how to fight them?” Pat asked, wondering who Luna Lovegood was and what she had to do with nargles, whatever those were. He was pretty sure that if they existed they were pretty harmless, since Harry seemed amused at the idea of having to fight them.

“Of course not,” Harry replied. “They’re invisible.” Then he couldn’t stop it anymore and he grinned. Patrick smiled in response.

“How are you going to defend us all if you have no idea what you’re fighting or how to stop it?” He asked.

“Yeah…” Harry looked at him for a moment. “That’s just the problem, isn’t it?” Pat was pretty sure they weren’t talking about nargles anymore.

“Harry! You’re up early,” exclaimed a very awake and energetic Hermione. “Hey Pat. How was your summer?”

“Fine Hermione. Yours?” He answered, smiling at her as she came down the stairs.

“Good, I suppose. Shall we go down to breakfast?” She glanced up at the door to the boys dormitory. “Do you think we should wait for Ron?”

“No, I think he and Dean are skipping breakfast.” Harry grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Something about finishing the summer Transfiguration assignment.” The three gathered their things, Hermione shooting disapproving glances in the general direction of the boys’ staircase. Neville walked slowly down, and joined them as they exited the common room.

Hermione watched as Harry approached the Potions classroom looking glum, but she knew his mind wasn’t really on the upcoming lesson, and the look was one he carefully maintained in this class, because he was expected to. He was supposed to be arrogant and stupid, and become furious at Snape when the man told him so, but in reality, he didn’t care much, until the man was cruel about his dad, and even then he overplayed his reaction. He sat down next to Hermione and waited. The door opened, banging against the stone wall. The drama. I suppose intimidation is one way to go.

“You are the few who have selected to continue with NEWT level potions, and I believe even fewer of you than this should be here. This class requires intelligence, instinct, and dedication in order to succeed. I have no doubt some of you will do very well. Others…” At this point he turned his gaze to Harry, and Hermione saw surprise flicker briefly in his eyes. He recovered quickly, “will do little more than flounder pathetically in the complexities and subtleties that are potion brewing. Fortunately for me, Professor Slughorn is the one that will have to drag you along through the curriculum like a dead weight.”

This announcement was met with shocked silence. Professor Slughorn is teaching potions? But that means Professor Snape… She looked at Harry. He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t betray any other emotion. The rest of the class went by without any major incidents, though Harry’s Dreamless Sleep potion was a shade or two lighter than the vibrant purple it should have been. She saw him adding beetle legs and touched his arm to stop him. “Those aren’t in the instructions!” she whispered furiously. He grinned at her and dropped them in. The potion immediately darkened and thickened slightly, and a pleasant smelling steam began to rise from his cauldron.

“Instructions are boring. This will taste better anyway.”

“You know, you’d get better grades if you didn’t experiment in class.”

“Exams are all that count. With all the extra reading and studying we did last year and this summer, we could both pass our NEWTS now if we wanted to.”

“But maybe certain teachers wouldn’t be as unpleasant if you just did what you were supposed to, and made an attempt to keep grades up.”

“Maybe certain teachers need to get girlfriends and they wouldn’t be so grouchy.”

“And maybe, Mr. Potter, certain students should refrain from speculation and they would actually produce passable potions. Thirty points from Gryffindor and a detention this evening at 7:00.” Snape glided away, robes billowing.

Harry glared daggers at his back while whispering to Hermione, “We’ll have to meet in the ROR tomorrow instead. The potion won’t be ready ‘till then anyway, right?”

“Right. Now shut up, and vial this potion.”

“Yes ma’am.” She watched his as he ladled the potion into a small glass vial and brought it up to the front to hand in. Malfoy passed her table as she was packing up, and smirked at her, amusement in his ice-blue eyes.

“Potty’s got a knack for getting into trouble, hasn’t he Granger? First period of the first day? That’s got to be a record.” She smirked sarcastically back at him.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, though by suppertime Hermione had enough homework to take up the rest of the night, and then some. Maybe I shouldn’t take so many classes, but all of them are interesting, and I can’t think of anything I’m taking that won’t come in handy later. She looked around the Great Hall. Harry wasn’t there, having finished quickly to cram in some homework before his detention. Ron, Dean, Seamus, and a couple fifth years were discussing Quidditch. Lavander and Pavarti were sitting across from her, talking too fast for her to catch what they were saying. Ginny and the Creevy brothers had their heads together and were conversing quietly a ways down the table. She narrowed her eyes. I think the youngest Weasley might be trying to fill the shoes of her most troublesome brothers. That will make life more… interesting. Over at the Slytherin table, she noticed Malfoy talking with a group of first years, and that his bodyguards were sitting at the other end of the table, sulking.

“Hello. Can I sit here?” Patrick was standing behind her, carrying an armful of books.

“Sure Pat. How’s school so far?” She scooted over a little to make room for him to sit.

“Ugh,” he replied, gesturing to his stack of books sitting next to him on the table, and the overflowing book bag on the floor. “Homework overload. And I thought OWL year was bad.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe I should drop some classes before next year…”

“Transfiguration is the worst. Ten feet of parchment on transfiguring humans. But at least we have two weeks to work on that; Snape assigned a three-footer for tomorrow.”

“I’m actually pretty good with Transfiguration. If you want some help with the research, let me know,” Hermione offered.

“Thanks. I might take you up on that. If you ever need help in Arithmancy, that’s my strong suit. I’m useless in Transfiguration and Defense.” Pat glared at the DADA text on the table.

“Get Harry to help you with Defense. He’s brilliant at it, and I think he could use some help with Arithmancy himself.”

“Harry’s taking Arithmancy? He doesn’t seem the type…”

“He’s not in the class, but he studies it on his own.” Pat raised an eyebrow, and Hermione looked down at her plate. Harry didn’t like people to know how much he studied, and how much he knew. He always said life was easier if people underestimated you. Pat didn’t inquire any further. “You think he’d actually help me with Defense?”

“I know he would.” Hermione smiled. “Actually, we had a club last year, I don’t know if you heard about it, but we got together to practice defensive spells, and it really helped in class. I think we’re starting it again this year, so if you want to join, let me know.”

“Thanks Hermione. I don’t know if I’ll have time, but I’ll think about it.

Severus wrote a biting comment in the corner of a second year Hufflepuff’s potions essay. Of course Slughorn would arrive after all the summer assignments are graded. Nevermind that it means twice as much work for me, and therefore twice the headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. I hate this job. There was a knock at the door, and Severus glanced at the clock. 6:55. The brat was early.

“Come in.” The door opened to reveal the boy-who-lived-to-annoy. For the second time that day, he did a double take when he looked at the boy. James and Harry had fused in Severus’s mind into one very annoying Potter. Now he could see Lily, and was forced to acknowledge that Harry was her son too, not just James’s. He couldn’t just avoid looking at his eyes, and pretend this Potter was his childhood enemy. He was Lily’s son. Lily, who he couldn’t hate, though he had tried. And there was something else too, something about the way Potter looked now that was unsettling, that was wrong.

“I’m here for my detention Professor.” The boy’s voice shook him out of his reverie.

“Obviously. You will scrub those cauldrons over there, and you may leave when I am satisfied as to their cleanliness. I will hold onto your wand so as to be assured you are not taking shortcuts.” To Severus’s surprise, the boy simply nodded and handed over his wand before walking over to the sink. Maybe those Occlumency lessons taught him something. Not for the first time, he felt guilt over the intensity of his reaction when he found the boy in his Pensieve. His anger, of course, was justified, but throwing the boy halfway across the room was not. He hadn’t really meant to do that. I didn’t realize the boy was so light. A fifteen year old shouldn’t weigh so little. No doubt starving himself to be lighter on his broom for Quidditch season. He didn’t believe that though, and another twinge of guilt accosted him. He should have reported Potter’s relatives’ behavior to Dumbledore when he saw instances of their cruelty in the boy’s mind, even if he believed the headmaster must have already known. He looked over at the teenager, who was bent over a cauldron, scrubbing hard at something at the bottom. Severus shook his head, and went back to grading essays.

“Professor? I’m finished.” At Potter’s voice he looked up from the paper he was reading and glanced at the clock. Almost 11:00! Well after curfew. I shouldn’t have kept him so late.

“Very well Potter, you may go.” He returned the boy’s wand to him. Potter pocketed it and exited the room. Severus stared at the door for a moment after he was gone contemplating the mystery that Potter had become.

“Hermione, wait!” Harry rushed to the cauldron where Hermione stood with a bottle of Murtlap essence in hand. “Won’t that cancel the effects of the powdered snake fangs? And, well, go bang?”

“I stabilized the potion and added salamander blood. Harry, I promise I thought this through.” She pushed a piece of parchment towards him across the table. He studied the mess of arithmancy equations and runes and glanced back at the cauldron, into which Hermione had just added the murtlap essence. As he read, Hermione watched his eyes moving across the paper and realized he understood most, if not all, of what she wrote.

“What is this for?” He pointed to a long calculation that ended with the notation ‘7 7/8 cc’. She looked at where he was pointing.

“That’s where I figured out the stir for after we let this simmer for 48 hours.” She looked up, uncertainty written on her face. “It’s going to be tricky to get it just right.”

“What if we mark the cauldron? At the 7/8 mark? That will make in easier to get it exactly at such a weird number. Couldn’t you have started inventing potions with something simpler? Wait, don’t answer that. I think I read something somewhere…”

An open book appeared on the table next to him. He studied the page for a moment before turning to the simmering orange potion and waving his wand over it in an intricate motion. A green line appeared floating over the rim, to the right of the notch that indicated starting position for stirring. He’s doing spells wordlessly the first time he tries them. One day he could be more powerful than Dumbledore. I wish he could wait to face Voldemort until after he reaches that point, but I don’t think we’ll be that lucky, what with that prophecy… Harry had told her the prophecy about him and Voldemort on the way home last year. As far as she knew, he hadn’t told anyone else yet.

Harry smiled at her and she felt her stomach do a small flip. Stop that. She smiled back and began to put away potion supplies. Harry returned to his Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts book, and she soon joined him on the couch, cracking open an Ancient Runes textbook. The room fit their needs perfectly, with a corner suited to potions brewing, a corner with couches and pillows, and an area for practicing spells. As they sat in a comfortable silence, Hermione lost track of time and was only jolted back to reality by Harry’s yawning several hours later. She glanced at her watch and gasped.

“It’s almost 1:00! We need to get back and get some sleep.” She concentrated and silently summoned Harry’s invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s map from the other side of the room. Behind her, Harry stood and stretched.

“Relax, Maya. It’s Friday, so we can sleep in tomorrow.” They made their way back to Gryffindor tower, and parted ways in the common room. “ ‘Night Hermione.”

“Goodnight.” She watched him disappear up his staircase before heading up to her own bed, where she fell asleep almost immediately.

On Monday after classes, Hermione was waiting in the Room of Requirement for Harry to arrive. Now the room was the large open area that they had used for the DA meetings last year. He hadn’t been sure at first, but Harry had agreed to continue the club, since many students were too nervous in Snape’s class to learn anything, and, as she had pointed out, extra practice never hurt anyone. The doors opened to admit Harry and, to Hermione’s surprise, Draco Malfoy. She raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi Harry. Draco.” She nodded to the Slytherin boy. He bowed formally and smirked.

“My Lady,” he replied, smirk becoming a grin. Harry laughed out loud at his antics, and Hermione curtsied in return, holding an imaginary skirt. It’s great to see Harry laugh. He and Draco both need to act their age more often, instead of carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. “Having already acquired the approval of your partner, I now must petition you, fair maid”

“Draco, do get to the point,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, here it is. I think that Slytherin should become involved in your little club. A lot of us, especially the younger kids, either oppose the Dark Lord or want to remain neutral, and they need to learn to defend themselves. I’m not bad at DADA myself, and I can help you appeal to people in Slytherin and Ravenclaw, and I can help teach. Will you let me join?” He spoke confidently, but Hermione thought he looked nervous.

“I think it’s a great idea. The meeting doesn’t start for half an hour, so why don’t you round up a couple Slytherin first and second years you think would be interested. I think greater house unity should be a major goal for all of us, but we’ll have to start incorporating the Slytherin members slowly, so that the more… stubborn… don’t feel threatened. Oh, and I was thinking, we should have a symbol, or a crest. I had been thinking we could make pins and members could wear them on their uniforms, since this isn’t a secret anymore. But then again, the Slytherins probably wouldn’t want…” She realized she was rambling from the glazed looks overtaking the boys’ faces. She mock glared at them and Harry grinned sheepishly at her, while Draco just nodded and left, presumably to bring back the new members.

“So what do you think, Maya?”

“I think it’s a step in the right direction, though it has the potential to make our lives more difficult. Some people are just too set in their ways.” She sighed. This had the potential to make things very complicated. Harry surprised her by reaching out and giving her a brief one armed hug.

“It’ll all work out. I’d tell you not to worry, but I know I’d be wasting my breath.” They began to discuss the plan for the meeting, and it was only a few minutes before Ron and Ginny arrived.

“Hey guys,” Ron walked over, while Ginny just waved and plopped down on a couch. “Feels weird not to be sneaking around, doesn’t it?”

“I know. I keep expecting Umbridge to show up.” Harry shuddered.

“Speaking of our favorite overgrown toad, has her Quidditch ban been lifted?”

“Yeah, McGonagall made sure of that.”

“Good, ‘cause I’d hate to lose the Cup this year. I mean Ginny’s a good seeker, but you’re the best, and we need her as a chaser.” Hermione left the two boys discussing Quidditch and joined Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who were talking quietly in a corner with some other old DA members who had trickled in. Soon, everyone from last year (except Marietta Edgecombe and Cho) was there, along with many new faces. Patrick was sitting next to Luna, and Hermione thought she heard the word “nargles”. All conversations died, however, when Malfoy arrived with five young Slytherins in tow, and Ron looked ready to kill.

“Okay people listen up!” Harry sensed the tension and began to speak. He’s matured a lot in a year, Hermione mused, not for the first time, watching him take control of the situation. “I think everyone’s here, so we can get started. Welcome back, last year’s members, and hello to everyone else. For those of you who don’t know, this is a practical defense group, and everyone will probably learn some things, including me, and I know we’ll all improve with the practice. As you’ve noticed, a couple of our new members are from Slytherin house. You are all here for the same reason: to learn to defend yourselves. If you have a problem with that, you can leave, but I’d prefer if you kept an open mind and gave them a chance. Okay, divide up, first through third years, fourth and fifth, sixth and seventh. Draco, take the younger ones and practice disarming, and Parvati, you’re good at that, so why don’t you help. Ginny, Luna, why don’t you do stunners with the middle group. Sixth and Seventh years, we’re going to do shielding. Lots and lots of shielding.”

Two hours later they were all exhausted. They ended the day with a mock battle, randomly dividing the group into two sides, and only allowing stunning, shielding, and disarming. That had been Hermione’s idea, and she was pleased that it got all the houses working together. As everyone prepared to leave, she stood on a table.

“All new members, take one of these fake galleons on your way out. They’ll tell you the time and place of the meetings; they won’t be constant, since we have a lot of schedules to work around. Great job today everyone!”

This morning Harry got up early and sat at the window, watching the sun rise over a sea of red and gold leaves. Would his life ever be simple? He was trying to keep the DA running smoothly with the addition of the Slytherins. Slughorn had arrived yesterday, and one class was long enough for Harry to realize that the contemptible excuse for a human being would teach them absolutely nothing. Now he was wasting two hours of every day between DADA and Potions, since, while he actually taught the class better than most of his predecessors, Snape treated Harry like he was stupid. Beside schoolwork, he spent a lot of time in the Room of Requirement studying anything that might help against Voldemort, learning material from classes he wasn’t taking, and brewing potions or practicing spells with Hermione. And she was a problem unto herself. He couldn’t figure out how he felt about her. She was his best friend, but he caught himself becoming angry when she talked to other guys, and watching her when she wouldn’t notice, picking up on little habits, like nibbling the end of a quill, or tucking her hair behind her ears when it didn’t really need it. He didn’t need to add a severely inconvenient crush to his ever-growing list of stresses.

In the evenings, he fell into bed exhausted. He got up in the mornings feeling no better. Nightmares plagued him, images of his parents, Cedric, and Sirius haunting him, and he could never save them as their deaths played over and over again in his dreams. To prevent addiction, Harry only allowed himself Dreamless Sleep potion a couple times a month. He had placed a silencing spell around his bed so that he didn’t disturb anyone if he screamed in the night. Sustaining the habit he had formed at the end of fifth year, every morning he refreshed the glamour charm that hid the physical signs of exhaustion.

Harry turned away from the window. It was still too early to go down to breakfast, so he sat on his bed and slipped into a meditative state. Meditation was as easy for him as breathing, as a result of early accidental magic. He learned quickly that he had to control emotions or there would be consequences, and he wouldn’t like them. His uncle never really beat him, but he grabbed him hard enough to leave bruises, and would slam him into walls “accidentally”, or trip him, or drag him to his cupboard by the hair. When his uncle and aunt weren’t happy, Harry noticed, Dudley became especially malicious, and he had no doubt Vernon and Petunia encouraged their son to make Harry’s life hell. Detaching himself from the real world and constructing a haven of happy memories and imaginings was the only way to get by.

Now, he was floating on his back in the Great Lake, watching birds swooping overhead, listening to the wind rustle the leaves of the Whomping Willow. All his bad memories were locked away in an imaginary treasure chest beneath the lake, and only the good ones remained on the surface. It was with great reluctance that Harry let the peaceful image fade in order to prepare for class.

Potions was grating on Harry’s nerves unlike any other class. He had begun purposely sabotaging his potions, or brewing something other than what he was supposed to in order to shake Slughorn’s unwanted favor. It wasn’t working.

“Ah, Mr. Potter! A skin regrowth potion! I imagine that would have the same effect as this rash tonic, wouldn’t it? Twenty points to Gryffindor for ingenuity.” As Slughorn walked off, Harry shared a half-amused, half-exasperated look with Hermione. Actually, she was more amused, and he more just annoyed.

“I could have handed him a tube of muggle ointment and he would have said the same thing.” I’m going to go crazy in here. Crazier. This man is going to make me insane.

“Maybe next time you should.”

“You’re taking this whole thing very well.”

“I know you’re capable of achieving the grades on your own. The fact that he shows you such blatant favoritism is just a source of amusement, since it makes you so crazy.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“I know. And look, time for Defense against the Dark Arts.” She grinned evilly at him as she put her books into her bag and slung it over one shoulder.

“But Maya, I don’t wanna go. The teacher’s mean to me.” He gave her his best puppy dog face.

“Too bad. C’mon Potter.” They exited the potions room and made their way up to Snape’s new classroom. Taking their seats in the back, Harry looked towards the front of the room. On the board was the word Patroni. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad. He looked to the left and caught Neville’s eye. The normally timid boy looked confident, and grinned at Harry. Glancing around the room, Harry realized almost half this class was composed of DA members. This ought to be fun. I wonder if Snape knows we covered this last year in DA? Probably not. Harry smirked. And even Neville managed to conjure one when we tried with the older years last week…

“Draco, come to the front of the room.” Snape’s voice rang out from the shadows where he had been standing unobserved. I’ve got to learn how to do that. “If any of you read the chapters I assigned, which I doubt, you should understand the theory behind a patronus. Even armed with that knowledge, I doubt many of you will be able to produce a wisp of smoke. Draco will cast a patronus, and then you will each come up in order of the rows you’re sitting in, and attempt to do the same.”

Severus watched with no small amount of pride as his godson cast the spell flawlessly. A silver-white hawk erupted from the end of his wand and circled the room once before fading away. He glanced towards the Potter boy and his Gryffindor clique to see their reaction to Draco’s accomplishment, and to his surprise saw Potter and Draco exchange a small smile. Not only that, but the seating in the room seemed to have changed. Draco was sitting with a mixed group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, Potter and Granger sat in the middle of a cluster of students from all four houses. Longbottom sat next to a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff discussing Herbology quietly. Something in the dynamics between the houses had changed. How did I miss this? The destruction of house barriers can only be a good thing, especially for Slytherins who will need support in the coming months if they are to deviate from the paths planned by their parents. He glanced again at Draco as he returned to his seat. “Next!”

The number of people who could successfully cast a patronus was astounding. Severus watched in something close to amazement as Longbottom conjured a large barn owl on his second try. Evidently Potter’s little club had done some good after all. After Granger went, it was Potter’s turn. He walked to the front of the room, his face expressionless. And perhaps the Occlumency lessons weren’t entirely wasted either.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. Going to give us the final proof of how identical you are to your father in every way?” he sneered. Severus was surprised yet again by the flicker of sadness and guilt in the boy’s green eyes.

“Expecto patronum!”A silvery light poured from his wand, solidifying into a stag. The stag didn’t move, and after only a second it morphed into a fox. Severus paled. It changed to a snake, and then some sort of bird in quick succession, before shifting again into a dark silver panther. Potter stared at it, eyes wide. The panther opened its mouth wide in a soundless roar before leaping into the air and vanishing. The room was completely silent as Potter turned, and without a word walked out the door. Granger grabbed his bag and her own and ran after him. Looking around, Severus saw that Longbottom and the rest of the DA members were looking at the door as if wanting to follow, and that Draco was among them.

“Class dismissed.” They were gone before the last syllable left his lips. Severus sat heavily in his chair. “Expecto patronum,” he whispered. A silver-grey fox appeared and ran lightly from desktop to desktop around the room before fading away. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he stood and made his way to the headmaster’s office.

It was later that night, after dinner was over, that Dumbledore sent him to find Potter. The boy was probably somewhere in Gryffindor tower, so he headed to Minerva’s office to enlist her help. As he neared the door, two familiar voices drifted out from inside.

“Mr. Potter, I must admit I am surprised and disappointed. You need both of those NEWTs to become an auror, you know.”

“I think my priorities have changed. I’m not sure that I want to fight for the rest of my life, if I live past… well, once Voldemort is dead.”

“Mr. Potter…” McGonagall began, but Severus chose that moment to make his appearance.

“Potter, the headmaster would like to speak with you.” Potter ignored him, and Minerva pursed her lips in displeasure at the interruption.

“Why don’t you discuss your schedule with him while you’re there, Mr. Potter? If he agrees to it, I suppose I cannot object.” She nodded her head to Severus and then the boy before disappearing through the door that led to her classroom. Severus turned and strode down the hallway, back towards the headmaster’s office, Potter following close behind. What, I wonder, was that all about?

As always, Dumbledore knew they had arrived before he got a chance to knock. “Come in!”

“Headmaster,” Severus nodded in greeting.

“Ah, Severus, that was fast. Hello Harry. How has your year been thus far?” Dumbledore smiled at him, eyes twinkling.

“I see your office has recovered.”

“Yes, that. Well, it wasn’t all that difficult to put to rights. I’m very glad you have such control over your magic, or I would still be trying to fix everything.” He glanced at Severus. “You did almost a good a job at destroying all my possessions as Professor Snape did when he was about your age.” Severus glared. Did he have to bring that up? Again? In front of the Potter brat?

“Maybe I shouldn’t have kept the magic contained.” He glared at Dumbledore. The old man’s eyes dimmed a bit.

“Do you blame me for your godfather’s death, Harry?’

“Yes.” The boy sat in I chair in front of the desk. “Along with many others, but not nearly as much as some. There’s enough blame to go around. But that’s not why I’m here, is it?”

“No, it’s not. You, and Professor Snape, are here to discuss what happened in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class earlier today. An interesting occurrence involving your patronus, I believe. Lemon drop?” Both Severus and the teenager beside him shook their heads. Dumbledore blinked and looked at them both carefully before shaking his head and popping a bright yellow piece of candy in his mouth. “Why don’t you give me your account.”

“I cast the spell, thinking about spending time with He… friends.” Severus raised an eyebrow and Dumbledore smiled slightly, but both remained silent. Severus hoped against hope that the boy would glaze over his patronus’s forms, but it was not to be. Potter colored slightly and continued. “It was a stag as always, but then it became a fox, and then a snake, and a bird. It stopped at a panther.”

“Hmmm.” Dumbledore shot Severus a piercing look before focusing on Harry once more. “Will you cast a patronus for me please?” The boy was hesitant, slowly getting to his feet and stepping away from the chair. He took a deep breath and pointed his wand.

“Expecto patronum,” he incanted softly. A silvery panther leapt from his wand and stood in front of him, tail twitching. He waved his wand again and the giant cat disappeared. Sighing, he sat down again and closed his eyes. “Why?”

“I can only theorize that your patronus was previously a stag because you idolized your father, rather than because your characters are so very similar. If you stopped idolizing him at some point last year or this summer, your patronus must have assumed its true form.” Severus started at the headmaster’s words. It wasn’t possible that the scene from the Pensieve could have… Green eyes met his own and quickly looked away. Apparently the way his father had acted really upset the boy. This realization threw doubt on many of Severus’s assumptions about the boy’s character.

“It’s possible.” Potter’s face was once again an emotionless mask. “May I go now, Professor?”

“It seemed that there was something else you wanted to discuss. Would you prefer to wait?” Dumbledore watched the boy with concern.

“Oh! No, we can talk about it now. I’d like permission to drop Divination, Potions, and DADA from my schedule, and add Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.” Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment before again assuming a calm, grandfatherly air. Severus had to speak up.

“You believe that you can cope without two of the most important subject the school offers? Planning to rely on fame to get you through life?” What is the boy thinking? I can’t fault him for dropping Divination, but Potions and Defense?

“I can pass the NEWTS without going to class. I’ll take them now if you want, but I’d prefer to study for the next two years before doing so. I think that in this, maybe you should allow me to make my own decision.” He didn’t acknowledge he heard what Severus said, just stared evenly at Dumbledore with the hint of a challenge in his eyes. The headmaster held his gaze for a long moment before looking away.

“Very well. I will trust you know what you’re doing. Professor McGonagall will give you a revised schedule tomorrow.”

“Thank you Professor. Goodnight.” He nodded at both teachers and quickly exited the office. Severus, unwilling to discuss possible meanings of patroni or to be on the receiving end of a lecture, followed close behind.

A piece of popcorn hit Draco on the side of the head. He whipped his head around and glared at Hermione, Neville, and Blaise Zabini in turn, but all three supported perfectly innocent expressions. Looking to the other side of the table for support, he was confronted by the barely suppressed laughter of Harry, Parvati and Padma Patil, and Hannah Abbott.

“Obviously studying for long periods of time is beyond the reaches of your juvenile attention spans. Very well, I’ll just leave, and then see how you do on the potions test on Friday!” He made as if to leave, putting books in his bag, when a stream of popcorn assaulted the back of his head. He drew his wand and turned, but nobody was there. Snarling, he turned back towards the table, and grabbing one of the bins of popcorn, used his wand to project handfuls of it towards the faces of everyone there.

Hermione stopped smiling and stood, glaring at him with popcorn caught in her hair and framing her face. Harry had caught most of the popcorn in his mouth and swallowed it before smirking at the blond Slytherin. Around the table there were reactions ranging from amused to murderous, but Draco wasn’t scared until he glanced at Parvati. There was a retaliatory glint in her eye and she was standing with her wand at the ready. He gulped. Hermione caught her eye and quickly cast a shield over the table containing their books and papers. Pavarti raised her wand and Draco vanished underneath a pile of conjured popcorn. Blaise looked torn between laughter and indignation on behalf of his housemate, but in any case, shot popcorn from his wand toward the Patil twins.

The situation progressed downhill from there. Almost fifteen minutes later the door to the abandoned classroom burst open. Snape and McGonnagall stared in shock. A shower of popcorn from above snapped them out of it.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on here?” McGonnagall demanded. Harry waded out from behind a desk, covered in popcorn. The room was a sea of yellow.

“We’re studying professor.” He maintained a perfectly straight face and looked at her innocently. A giggle sounded from somewhere behind a particularly high pile. McGonnagall pursed her lips and with a swish of her wand the popcorn all vanished. The others all came forward from their hiding places and “fortresses”. Snape raised an eyebrow at the sight of his two Slytherins.

“Studying Potter?” he drawled. Harry was about to reply when, to his surprise, Draco spoke up.

“Of course, professor. We were practicing conjuring and shield spells. With due respect, ma’am, we were going to also practice various vanishing spells.” She just stared at him, again in shock. Snape actually smirked, and decided to give them a shock of their own.

“Expelliarmus! Accio wands!” He held eight wands in his left hand, and with a flick of his own, all the popcorn reappeared. McGonnagall glanced at him sharply. Snape waved his wand again and eight brooms and dustpan appeared, along with many big black trash bags. “I believe a bit of Muggle Studies would round out the meeting a bit, wouldn’t you say? You may have your wands back when the room sparkles.” The teens groaned, and he smirked. McGonnagall said nothing, just nodded to the other professor and left the room. Snape followed her, robes billowing. Well that sucks, thought Harry, grabbing a broom and setting to work.

Potter was spending time voluntarily with Slytherins and Draco was trying to get other people, people from other houses, out of trouble. Snape shook his head, wondering when the world had turned upside-down. He sat in his armchair staring into the fire, and allowed his mind to wander down a path that had long been blocked off.

He cast a scourgify at his foot to get rid of whatever he had stepped in, muttering curses and insults about the marauders under his breath. Suddenly a stream of water hit his leg and foot, leaving him dripping wet. He looked up to glare at Lily.

“What was that for?”

“I thought I’d help you get clean.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Aguamenti!” Lily sputtered and gasped as she was soaked head to toe with water. Severus smirked.

“Oh, not nice Severus!” She put her hands on her hips. “And here I was just trying to be helpful…” She sighed dramatically.

“Yes Snape, dreadfully unfair,” a new voice chimed in. Severus glared at the new arrival. Even though his rivalry with the Marauders had cooled and become almost friendly, he still didn’t like Sirius Black.

“Well, Sirius, Lils did cast first.” James pulled off his invisibility cloak, appearing next to Black.

“Ugh, traitor!” Black stepped away from him and shot water from his wand until his best friend was as soaked as Lily. Lily and Sirius teamed up against Severus and James and the water fight lasted over an hour and progressed though three floors before Professor Dumbledore appeared. His eyes twinkled madly as he dried them all with a wave of his wand.

“I followed a trail of puddles up from the second floor, but I admit I thought Peeves to be the cause. May I suggest that you clean up behind you next time? Oh, and Ms. Evans, an exemplary job on your transfiguration mid-term exam. The best I’ve seen in years… Good day…” He smiled and nodded at each of them before disappearing around a corner.

“Off his rocker…” Black shook his head. “Totally and completely mad.” Severus had to agree with him.

“He’s brilliant though. Oh Sev, did you hear what he said about my exam?!” He grinned at her and gave her a one-armed hug.

“And to think you were worried. Didn’t I tell you that your test would set a new standard? Now mine will be pathetic in comparison.” He bent down and kissed her.

“Ewww… My eyes, they burn…” Potter shielded his face with his hand, and Black made retching sounds. Both smirking, Lily and Severus turned towards each other again, this kiss lasting longer, until Black and Potter fled the corridor.

Those were happier times, when the adults worried about the Dark Lord and Hogwarts was a safe haven. By the end of that year, Lily’s parents would be dead and Black’s brother would be a Death Eater. Two years after that, Lily Evans would marry James Potter, and Severus himself would have taken the mark. Another year after that, Lily would die, and her son would defeat the most feared wizard in the world. Why did everything go so wrong?

“How goes your project?” Harry nodded towards the potion simmering on the other side of the room.

“I think we can test it next week.” Hermione smiled at him from the notes in her hand. She bit her bottom lip. “Harry, do you think we should really do this now? Are we prepared enough? I mean, this is dangerous, and illegal and…”

“When has that ever stopped us?” He grinned at her. “C’mon Maya. You know you’re dying to see what your animagus is.”

“I’m kinda hoping it isn’t an otter. I mean, I like otters, and I know that’s what my patronus is, but what can you do with an otter animagus? I guess I could probably swim well, but still…” She bit her lip again.

“You know patroni and animagi forms are only the same about half the time. Relax. If you’re an otter, you’ll probably love it and you’ll be the best, smartest, prettiest otter the world has ever seen. Personally, I’m hoping for a magical animagus, but I wouldn’t be too put out by a panther… Ok, who’s going first?” The couches and table disappeared, leaving an open space for them to attempt a transformation.

“You.” Hermione looked nervous as she handed him a small silver knife, a black quill, a glass bowl, and a piece of parchment, before retreating to a safe distance.

Harry smiled reassuringly as he sat cross-legged on the floor. He used the knife to make a shallow cut in his palm, and let the blood drip into the bowl as Hermione averted her eyes. He dipped the quill into his blood and wrote the four runes he had memorized earlier on the parchment. Closing his eyes, he placed his bleeding hand on top of the symbols.

His world was nothing but sky, forever in all directions. He could see thunder clouds in the distance, and he could feel the wind holding him up. Focusing on that feeling, he willed himself to change.

“Oh…” Hermione breathed. Harry opened his eyes and looked at her. He was very short, he noted, somewhat disappointed. Then he noticed his wings. He leapt to the air and soared about the room as if he had been born a bird, while Hermione watched in awe. He sang an experimental note and was surprised to find that he sounded a little like Fawkes. Spiraling down, he landed on Hermione’s shoulder, and cocked his head to the side in question. “Harry, I think… But they’re a myth, even to wizards… I’m probably wrong, but… I think you… you might be a phoenix. A wind phoenix. I’ve read about them, but there aren’t any detailed accounts, just children’s stories… There were elemental birds, phoenixes, but the only ones anyone’s ever seen are fire phoenixes. We need to find more information on this. Just, oh… wow.”

Harry was shocked. He had seen references to phoenixes of other elements, but had dismissed them as fiction. Hermione conjured a mirror for him to see what he looked like. He was about the size of a hawk, with iridescent feathers that changed from green to silver to purple when he moved. His tail was at least two feet long and at the end seemed slightly insubstantial, as if it faded into the air itself. He still had the same emerald green eyes, and a black beak. Not bad at all, he thought, chuckling to himself. And definitely unexpected.

He flew to the ground and focused on leaving the sky and changing back. Practice in meditation made this a simple matter for him. If only keeping Snape out of my head were this easy. He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. She was staring at him, eyes wide. Did I not change back? He looked down to see that he was, indeed, human again.

“Umm… Harry? You should probably look in the mirror.” Confused, he turned towards the mirror, and froze.

Albus Dumbledore stood by the window, looking out over the grounds. It looked so peaceful: the bare trees with a sprinkling of snow, the frost covered ground, the smooth, deep blue lake, and Hagrid’s hut with a tendril of smoke rising from the chimney. He knew Hogwarts must look like a muggle postcard. Unfortunately, the lives of those within her walls weren’t nearly so peaceful. His thoughts turned again to the two people who worried him the most.

Harry Potter was coping with his godfather’s death almost too well, and Albus knew he must be hiding and containing his grief. All he could hope was that the boy would confide in Miss Granger. She was the best friend Harry could hope for, and they complimented each other marvelously. It was a shame that their friendship with the youngest Weasley boy seemed to be strained. On the other hand, he was thrilled that they seemed to be breaking down the barriers between houses and extending their group to include Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Those Slytherin boys had worried the headmaster too, and he knew he was helpless to turn them from their darkening paths. But perhaps Harry Potter would succeed where he could only fail.

He couldn’t help but reflect on one of his greatest failures whenever he thought of Lily Potter’s son. Lily Potter. Albus had always thought that she would be Lily Snape, but his actions changed that. How alike Harry and Severus were! They were both intelligent, brave, fiercely independent, and continually defied expectations. He remembered when Lily and Severus had begun dating, at the beginning of their seventh year, and how surprised he was when he found out. They were an unlikely pair, but like Harry and Hermione, they each had in excess what the other lacked. But it had all ended in disaster because of his own selfishness and Severus’ stubbornness. Oh I’m far too old for this. Old men should not be allowed to play chess with others’ lives, let alone forced to in order to stop a sadistic megalomaniac.

Fawkes trilled a comforting melody, as a tear ran down Dumbledore’s face before getting lost in his beard. He scolded himself mentally. It seemed he was crying more and more often lately. Ah, if only Harry and Severus would recognize their similarities and see past their prejudices, they would actually be good for each other. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to help either of them for very much longer. With Rufus Scrimgeour as Minister of Magic trying to cement his position, Dumbledore’s job was in jeopardy. Scrimgeour wanted to put his own men into key positions, and Hogwarts headmaster was one of them. As he looked over the grounds his heart ached for those he would have to leave behind.

Hermione was frantically scanning a book of glamour charms, and glancing up at Harry every couple minutes. He had a book of appearance-altering potions open on his lap, but he was staring into space, and hadn’t turned a page for half an hour. He looked normal again, having cast a glamour before they left the Room of Requirement, but Hermione couldn’t shake the image of a very different Harry Potter who had appeared after his animagus transformation. She hadn’t even attempted to change into her animal form, just dragged Harry with her straight to the library. All thoughts of his incredible animagus form had fled. Now she was looking for anything that would explain a drastic change in appearance. Suddenly Harry spoke.

“I’ve been maintaining a glamour all year. I haven’t been sleeping, and I didn’t want to worry you. It must have vanished when I transformed back into human form."

“But Harry, that would mean…” She trailed off, looking at him intently.

“Yup. That was what I really look like. Like…” He shuddered.

“Then why would you have looked like Ja… like you did… for the past 16 years? It doesn’t make sense.” She frowned and bit her bottom lip. “And why would it change now?”

“I don’t know Maya. All I can think is that someone wanted to make sure everyone could see how much I looked like my father. Like… to make everyone positively sure he was my father. But that doesn’t make sense unless he wasn’t. And back there… I didn’t look like James Potter. Not at all. I looked like Lily Potter, more than I ever have, and I looked like…”

“Harry…” She reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I looked like Snape’s son.”

Harry threw himself into his classes. Christmas approached and the schoolwork slowed, but he just studied harder, catching up to and passing the other students in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and studying advanced material in his other subjects, including Potions and especially Defense Against the Dark Arts, though he was no longer attending classes. At night, when everyone else was in bed, he sat up with owl-ordered books on animagus transformation and legends of phoenixes. The other Gryffindors muttered that he was turning into Hermione, but he ignored them, staying hunched over giant tomes until early morning, and applying glamours to hide his new appearance and the dark rings under his eyes. Hermione herself became increasingly worried and tried to make him relax, but he ignored her, though the look in her eyes when he turned away always felt like a physical blow. All he could do was stay busy. If he let his mind wander, it always took the same path. And that was something he wasn’t yet prepared to deal with.

After a month of almost no rest, one midnight found Harry in the common room with a book in his lap, sound asleep. Soon however, he began to twitch and moan, and the book fell to the floor. If any decent soul had seen him they would have woken him from what was obviously a nightmare, but he was alone.

He was in the graveyard. James was there, and Sirius and Remus. He saw Hermione and all the Weasleys, and Patrick, Padma, Parvati, Neville and most of his friends from Hogwarts. Draco and Blaise stood there as well, and many of his professors, including Dumbledore. They stood in a half circle in front of him, his friends and family. Turning around, he saw a sea of black hoods, Voldemort in front, flanked by Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange. Behind them were Death Eaters, and an army of dementors. He tried to draw his wand but realized he didn’t have it.

“Are you looking for this Mr. Potter?” He whirled around again, to see Snape standing with him in the center of the circle. Lily Potter stood next to Snape and he had an arm over her shoulders. “Idiot boy, can’t even keep track of his own wand.” Lily smiled at him and looked up at Snape.

“He’s just a child, Severus.”

“Yes. And he would do well to remember it.” Snape sneered down at him and tossed back his wand. As soon as the wand touched his hand Harry felt himself change. His glamours fell and everyone could see his true appearance, but nobody seemed surprised. James Potter stepped forward.

“You’re obviously not my son. You never have been. Now that I can see what you really are, it’s obvious you were always the bastard of Snivillus.” He spit on the ground and walked off into the night. Remus and Sirius shook their heads and glared at Harry before following James.

“He’s right you know. You should have let the hat put you in Slytherin. I can’t believe I ever called you my friend! And all this time you weren’t anything like what we thought you were. What else are you hiding? What will everyone think when they find out their precious savior is a dark wizard?” Ron turned and stomped away. Harry tried to call him back, but found his voice wouldn’t work, and he was rooted to the spot.

“Yeah, everyone knows Slytherins turn into Dark wizards. When you turned out to be a Parselmouth it should have clued us in. You certainly aren’t a Gryffindor!” Parvati walked away, Padma following. One by one his friends left him, until only Hermione, Patrick, Blaise and Draco were left.

“Don’t look at us. Just because your father is Slytherin doesn’t mean you belong. You don’t have the cunning. Remember ‘remedial potions’? You couldn’t block your mind to save your life. And zero subtlety. So you don’t really belong anywhere Potter, do you?” Draco laughed cruelly and Blaise joined in. They turned and vanished, their laughter echoing in his head. He turned to Hermione, praying she wouldn’t leave.

“Oh Harry. How can you expect me to stay with you? I have a future to think about. A career… You have a tendency to get people hurt, and if Snape is your father, well, are we even sure you fulfill the prophesy? I mean, really, Harry, that isn’t fair, to keep me around just to use my brains every once in a while. I need to move on with my life.” She was crying, but she looked up at Patrick through her tears and smiled. He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Together, they walked away. Harry felt like a knife had been plunged into his heart. He ran after them into the darkness, away from the graveyard, and arrived at the edge of a cliff. Below he could see all their bodies, bloody and broken lying in a heap. So many more people he had killed.

“Harry, come away from that edge.” His mother was behind him, beckoning. He took a step towards her when a green light flashed and she fell to the ground. Voldemort stepped out of the shadows and kicked her body over the side, and she tumbled to the bottom of the chasm.

“Yes Potter. Come away from the edge. Come along Potter… or is it Snape? You can still join me. The darkness is in your blood.” Harry backed up. His back foot went over the cliff’s edge, and he was falling. Falling. Falling with wind rushing past his ears and grateful for the end… And then he was standing in a field. Snape was in front of him.

“You really do get people killed. And then you wonder why nobody loves you. I certainly hope you don’t expect me to. As far as I’m concerned, you aren’t any relation of mine.”

“I don’t want to…” He stopped in midsentence to listen. Someone was calling his name.

“Harry! Harrrryyyy…” He woke with a start, surprised to find himself in the Gryffindor common room. Where was Snape? He took in Hermione’s concerned face staring down at him. She was alive!

“Harry, are you ok? I came down to see if you were still reading, but you were thrashing around and making awful noises…” He reached out and clutched her hand. He wasn’t going to lose her, especially not because of his own stupidity.

‘Maya, I’ve been such a git lately, and I guess really since I’ve known you, I mean, you’re my best friend, and I know it doesn’t seem like I, er, like I appreciate you, but I really do, I mean, you’re the most important thing in my life, and I really will try harder…” She cut him off by laughing and pulling him into a hug.

“Harry, relax. You’re my friend, no matter what, and you don’t have to always say things out loud for me to know them.” She pulled away and smiled, before making a face. “But you’re sweaty and you smell. Go take a shower.”

“Thanks Hermione.” By this time his breathing had returned to normal, and he was blushing at his outburst. He kissed Hermione quickly on the cheek and hurried towards the bathroom, now beet red.

When Harry stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later he felt infinitely better, and it seemed he could think clearly for the first time in days. He wiped a hand over the fogged mirror to clear a spot. Staring at his reflection, he dropped the glamour that maintained his appearance and looked closely at his new face, running his fingers over his angular nose and higher cheekbones, and noticing that in addition to his resemblance to Snape, he seemed to have inherited more of his mother’s features than had been visible. He had never been able to see any resemblance to her besides his eyes, but now he actually looked like her son. Like her son and like Snape’s.

It was too late to go back to bed, so Harry threw on jeans and a t-shirt, which used to belong to Dudley and that he had altered to fit him with some useful spells from a book of household charms. Wandlessly, he cast the glamour again and left the bathroom, walking back down to the common room, where Hermione was already dressed and waiting. Glancing at his watch he realized it wasn’t even five in the morning. Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the portrait hole. Bemused, he followed her as she made her way to the Room of Requirement, still maintaining a vise-like grip on his hand.

Glancing around, Harry noticed several changes. Hermione’s potion was gone from its place and the lab area was clear. On a low table by the fire were stacks of books and documents which looked to be arranged into organized piles. He raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who seemed to suddenly notice they were still holding hands. Quickly letting go of him, she sat in front of the table and motioned for him to sit beside her.

“What happened to that potion? Your invention that’s been occupying your mind for months? It didn’t just disappear.” He said, sitting. His mind was elsewhere, but she didn’t need to know that. Why did she grab my hand? Did she let go because she doesn’t like the idea of holding my hand or from embarrassment? Will it happen again?

“It’s finished.” She smiled at him proudly for a moment. “We just have to test it.”

“Great! That’s amazing Hermione. You really are the smartest person I know, and the only person with the dedication for this type of project. People have been looking for something like your potion for centuries.” Hermione blushes, and slapped his arm playfully.

“Stop it Mr. Potter or my ego won’t fit in the room anymore. Besides, that’s not why we’re here.” She looked him in the eye. “You’ve been withdrawing, and I won’t let you. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together, got it?”

“Yes’m. And I’m sorry I shut you out. I just needed time to adjust.” He turned his attention to the table, suddenly uncomfortable again. “Are you going to explain what all this is?”

“I’ve been doing some research…”

“Shocking really.”

“Watch it Potter! Anyway, I was researching your… new look.” He glanced up at her, surprised, and then stared at the papers and books distrustfully.

“I think we should start with a paternity test.” She glanced up to gauge his reaction. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ok, I’ve looked into several tests, and I think the best one for us is this incantation. It also requires your blood and a lot of power. Thankfully, you were born with more than enough power, and between Voldy’s mistake and your own training, this shouldn’t drain you too much.”

Harry pricked his finger with the pin and let three drops of blood fall to the parchment in front of him. Almost silently he read the incantation off a slip of paper, and a reddish glow emanated from his wand. In fascination they both watched as the blood rearranged into a likeness of Harry, the Harry under the glamour. Two lines spread upwards as his face faded from the page. At the end of each line a new face formed, revealing his mother, and what was unmistakably a younger Snape. He gasped and ended the spell, and tossed the parchment in the fireplace.

“I don’t get how… how Snape could be my father!” He turned his face away from Hermione and began to pace. “I mean, was it a mistake, like a one-night stand? Was she cheating on my dad? Was it… I mean, he was a Death Eater… What if he had to… ?” He looked down at Hermione, who was still sitting on the floor. She looked at him sympathetically.

“I think the only person who could answer that is Professor Snape,” She paused, seeing his look. “But I have a theory. You won’t like it. Come over here and sit down.” He sat. Taking a deep breath, she began. “I started looking through old yearbooks in the library, looking for pictures of your mom. I found quite a few of them, but only one with your dad, and Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew were all in it too. Several were pictures of your mother and Professor Snape, along with Professor Vector and Marala Chopra, now Marala Patil, the twins’ mother. In her seventh year there were several pictures of just your mom and Professor Snape. I think they were a couple.” She pushed several copies towards him.

The first was a picture of the two of them in the library, heads bent together over a book, Snape pointing something out on the page. Harry started, realizing this younger version of his professor was actually smiling. In the next picture they were only in the background, but they seemed to be holding hands and his mother was obviously laughing. There was a picture of them at the lake, having a picnic with a pretty Indian girl and a brunette with glasses who Harry recognized as a young Professor Vector. He saw a picture of Snape in Slytherin Quidditch robes. He had his arm around Lily, who wore jeans and a gold top, and a green sheer scarf around her neck. Behind them several other Slytherin team members were glaring. There was another picture of Snape, Lily, Marala Patil, Remus, and Septima Vector studying under a tree. James and Sirius flew around above playing with a quaffle while Pettigrew watched.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” There were tears in his eyes as he looked at his mother’s smiling face and Snape next to her. “But eventually she married my da… James.”

“Yes. And she had you well over nine months later. But I found this.” She held up a role of yellowed parchment. “Teachers put exemplary pieces of student work into a section of the library. When I mentioned to Madam Pince I was looking for information on your mother for you, she gave me this. Your mother wrote it in her seventh year for credit in potions and charms. It is the idea for contained time warping. She theorizes that with a potion to limit the area and prevent the effects from overflowing, you could charm an area’s time flow to be faster or slower than real time. For example, you could go into the charmed room and spend three hours there, but outside the room everyone else would have only lived ten minutes.”

“I’d like to read that, but I don’t understand what it has to do with me.”

“ Harry, I think she cast the spell on herself while she was pregnant with you. If she got pregnant while still in school, well, it would be scandalous! She might have cast the spell, and later, when she married James Potter, she cancelled it, and had you. Maybe she told Professor Snape, and he didn’t want a child, or maybe when he became a spy, she broke up with him and never told him, or they broke up and she didn’t want to have the baby out of wedlock, so she waited until she got married.” He looked at her for a moment.

“I guess it’s possible. Slightly far-fetched, but possible. It makes me feel better that they were friends, or more, at one point. I didn’t want to think I was an unwanted baby born of rape. But that doesn’t mean my mother didn’t simply cheat on James Potter. If she had a relationship with Snape once, that only makes that scenario more likely. But I don’t want to think about it right now. Thank you for this Maya. It helped.”

“Oh Harry, you don’t have to thank me. You’re my best friend in this world, and I don’t like to see you hurting. Now come on, I want you to take a look at my potion and my final notes.” She smiled and stretched before getting to her feet. Harry stuffed the pictures into his bag and followed her to the shelf containing the vials of orange-gold potion. They fell into a deep discussion, ignoring the time that passed, and ended up having to run to the Great Hall to grab breakfast before Arithmancy.

Severus looked up from his breakfast as Minerva tapped his shoulder. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, I do apologize, but my coffee is particularly fascinating this morning.”

“First year essays? You have both the younger Goyle and that Hufflepuff Ponget girl in one class if I recall.” She smirked. He glared.

“ I think you-” The toast fell from his hand, and he blinked hard, then looked back at the Gryffindor head of house, to see his expression mirrored on her face. She was staring with shock, or perhaps something akin to horror, at his hair.

Her hair was green. Actually, green and silver. In spikes almost 25 cm high. He looked down the head table to see Flitwick’s hair and beard were plaited with alternating yellow and black stripes. Sprout’s normally mousy brown hair was arranged into an afro, which was impressively patterned with blue and white plaid.

“Se… Severus… Your hair!” Minerva was still staring at him, and he could hear the whispers and laughter in the hall growing louder as the students noticed the professors’ states. He conjured a small mirror and groaned as he took in his appearance. He had curls. Golden ringlets with red highlights. He tugged on one, and it bounced. He could almost hear the “boing”. He took a deep breath, forcing an outward calm.

“I don’t think it suits my complexion…” He handed the mirror to Minerva as he surveyed the uproariously laughing students. He barely registered her shriek and the shattering of the mirror. Potter? Maybe… Potter was staring openmouthed at the teachers, before laughing and turning to Granger. When she looked up to see the cause of the commotion she covered her mouth with her hands in shock, which turned quickly to amusement. Soon she dissolved into helpless giggles while Potter struggled to control his own laughter. They did not look particularly guilty. What caught his eye was the smug expression on the face of the youngest Weasley. His eyes narrowed. She and the Creevy brothers and Lovegood were… Wait, why is Lovegood at the Gryffindor table? Never mind… Those four…He groaned. This was going to be a long year.

“Finite!” Next to him, Minerva practically hissed the spell. There was a loud pop, and suddenly her hair had the yellow and black plaits. Glancing down the other two heads of house, Sprout now had the Gryffindor colored curls, and Flitwick was sporting Slytherin spikes. Which meant… Sure enough, when Severus reached up, he felt an afro. He looked back down and caught Ginny Weasley’s amused eyes, and glared. She just smiled and waved.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall swung open and Albus Dumbledore strode in, to a fresh wave of laughter. His long beard was green and morphed into a hissing snake, coiling around his neck. It changed to a bright yellow, and the hair rearranged itself to the image of a badger, which briefly hung from his chin before scrambling up his robes to sit on his shoulder. His eyes were twinkling madly as he surveyed the head table. Trust the headmaster to find the situation amusing.

“Would the heads of house accompany me to my office please? Oh, and Mr. Potter?” His beard morphed into a blue eagle and was valiantly attempting to fly away from his face as he walked from the hall.

In the headmaster’s office, Severus took his seat against one wall. He noticed Potter glance at him before sitting at the opposite side of the room.

“Harry, I must ask if you had anything to do with this…” Albus looked at Potter over steepled fingers, trying to maintain a calm demeanor while his beard, in the form of a red lion, leaped from his shoulder to the top of his head, obscuring his vision. Severus expected the boy to jump up and vehemently deny his guilt, but he just stared at the headmaster.

“Have I given you any indication that I am responsible?” Potter’s voice was calm, but his eyes were burning with anger. Strangely, Severus found himself sympathizing with the boy. Being wrongly accused with no evidence would raise any man’s ire. Expecting Minerva to jump to her student’s defense, he was surprised to see her peering suspiciously at the angry teenager, though her colorful braids made her a more amusing than intimidating sight.

“You seem to have a tendency for trouble Mr. Potter.” She tapped her fingers against her arm, waiting, perhaps, for a confession. “And this seems suspiciously like something devised with either the help of the Weasley twins or inspiration from your father and his friends.” Harry looked from her to Dumbledore, to the two other professors for support, not even glancing at Severus. The room remained silent.

“I will say this once, because I think every member of the present company needs to hear it. My name is Harry. I am not James Potter. As amusing, and frankly quite ingenious as this prank was, I had neither foreknowledge of its execution, nor any hand in its design. None of you,” he paused to look pointedly at Dumbledore, “are omniscient, and accusing someone of an act simply because his friends or family may have committed similar acts is narrow-minded and inexcusable. I would prefer not to be the victim of any other such misunderstandings in the future. Excuse me if that came across rudely, but it needed to be said.” Potter finished speaking and stood. “May I go please?”

“You may, Harry. I do apologize that you feel we were accusatory with no reason. Though you could, I suppose, take it as a compliment… ” Albus gave him a small smile, which faltered with a green-eyed glare. Obviously still angry, but controlled, Potter pulled open the office door and vanished down the stairs.

“Do you think he did it?” Minerva asked, looking to Dumbledore, but it was Severus who spoke.

“No. He did not. It was the Weasley girl, Miss Lovegood, and the Creevey boys. But we have no way of proving that either. The girls are both intelligent enough to cover their tracks.” He smirked as Minerva paled.

“That combination could be worse than the twins. We won’t live through the year!”

The DA was making rapid progress. The older students could almost all produce patroni, and some could even charm them to carry messages. They all knew more shield spells than were taught in the Hogwarts curriculum. Harry had little doubt that the first years could pass a third or fourth year practical exam in DADA. In mock battles, speed and accuracy were improving, as was the unprecedented level of inter-House cooperation. Now, everyone was just practicing various spells, and Harry couldn’t help but smile, until he caught sight of Hermione.

Harry glared as Patrick reached around Hermione to adjust her wand movement. He couldn’t hear what was said, but Hermione giggled and went back to practicing the stunning hex. It was a complex variation of the simple spell, moving erratically until it reached its target, actually homing in on the person at whom it was aimed. Difficult to master, but infinitely useful in battle. Hermione executed it perfectly as Harry looked on. She turned excitedly to Patrick and gave him a quick, one-armed hug, and Harry had to stop himself from hexing the older boy. She shouldn’t be hugging him! Why is he smiling like that? Does he fancy her? Hermione then scanned the room of DA members until she caught Harry’s eyes. He gave her a thumbs up, jealousy fading somewhat with her smile. Glancing at his watch, Harry cast a Sonorus charm on himself.

“Okay everyone, listen up! We’ve got five minutes ‘till curfew, so I’ll be quick. This is our last meeting until after the holidays. I think we’ve accomplished a whole lot since we started, and I’m really glad we continued the club this year. Keep practicing, because we’re going to have a mock battle with everything we’ve done when we get back. Have a great Christmas!” He ended the spell on his voice, and everyone filed out, exhausted, to head for their common rooms, calling goodbyes as they left. Patrick waved on his way out, but Harry, somewhat childishly, ignored him.

“Very inspiring Potter. Anyway, have a good holiday, in case I don’t see you before we leave. You too Hermione.” Draco gave them a small grin before he headed out the door.

“Bye Draco…” Hermione called after him. “But in case you’ve forgotten, we’re all meeting up Friday night for a party!”

“Oh yeah…” the Slytherin’s voice came floating back to them. Harry shook his head.

“C’mon Maya. We’re already late getting back.” He pulled out the Marauders’ Map, and tapped it with his wand. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

“Oh no…” Hermione breathed. She pointed at a spot on the second floor, where five dots were gathered. Harry only watched them a moment before reaching the same conclusion she had.

“Shit. Okay, Hermione, go get McGonagall. I’ll stop it.” She nodded, and they both set off jogging in opposite directions.

Harry slowed as he reached his destination. Turning a corner, what he saw filled him with fury and not a small helping of pride. Two of his younger DA members were defending themselves against three older attackers in Ravenclaw and Slytherin robes. Gregory Goyle was laying unconscious on the ground, still being attacked by bat-bogeys. The other two attackers were dueling and hurling insults at their victims. An older Ravenclaw girl leaned against a wall while she kept firing nasty hexes that Harry knew were in a grey area of legality, and boy from Ravenclaw stood next to her, relatively unharmed, shielding them both. On the other side Alyssa Bolton, a third year Slytherin from the DA, was sitting against the wall, cradling an obviously broken right arm, rapidly firing spells with her left, while her younger brother, Timothy, who was in Ravenclaw, crouched next to her alternating offensive and defensive spells.

“Stop.” Harry’s voice was frightening in its anger. Both the Boltons ceased firing and raised shields, while the older Ravenclaw boy was surprised into dropping his. The girl turned and began firing on Harry. He blocked her stinging hex and threw three stunners in quick succession. One of them must have hit, because she crumpled to the floor. Harry conjured ropes to bind the three older students.

“Hey Harry. Never been so glad to see you before…” Timothy said. “though I think we were winning.”

“What happened Tim?” Harry asked, kneeling to check him for injuries. Taking one look at Alyssa’s arm, he produced his panther patronus. Muttering a charm under his breath, he sent it bounding off around the corner, headed for the infirmary.

“When do we get to try that?” Alyssa asked, watching it go, awed. She shook herself out of it. “Never mind. Anyway, we were heading back to the dorms. I was walking Tim to his portrait to be safe, when these thugs appear out of nowhere, start calling us blood traitors and the like, and the big ugly one,” She pointed at Goyle, “threw me against the wall. Then the girl pointed her wand at Tim, and he threw a stunner at her. She blocked it, but that’s how the fight began. I’m pretty sure I got the troll. Have to thank Ginny for teaching me that hex…”

“I got the girl with a jelly-legs spell at some point,” Timothy added. Harry nodded and turned to the bound students, only one of whom was conscious. “Evenerate,” he incanted, waking the other two. “Do you confirm or deny that you three, a seventh year and two sixth years, attacked two innocent children?” He ignored the indignant snort from behind him.

“Innocent my ass! Those two are traitors. Pureblooded, and they throw it away on some muggle-loving group of fools. A Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Supposed to have cunning and brains…” The seventh year boy spat on the ground.

“I suppose you two agree?” He asked Goyle and the girl mildly. They both sneered at him. “I see. So it must fill you with so much pride that you perfect, pureblooded, lowlife bullies, that three of you, could take on such a frightening pair of blood traitors who are half your size. Except you couldn’t, could you? If I had shown up five minutes later, I think they would have taken you down on their own. Perhaps not an adventure to write home to Mommy about. Ah well, what a shame. I don’t think either of your Heads of House will approve either. All of you were picking on your own housemates. No, probably a stupid decision all around. Tut tut…” With that, he conjured two more patroni and sent them off in different directions.

“Now we wait.” Harry sat next to the Boltons, holding the wands of their attackers in one fist, still brimming with anger. He hated bullies. His thoughts, however, were with one patronus he wished he could call back. Harry didn’t want to deal with Snape tonight. It was bad enough sitting with him in the headmaster’s office, torn between questioning the man at wandpoint and just breaking down into tears and chucking things at his head. Harry thought he showed remarkable self-restraint by doing neither. So why did he send for Snape?

Hermione and McGonagall arrived first, followed closely by a flustered Madame Pomfrey. The mediwitch shook her head at yet another duel in the corridors, and began conjuring stretchers. Hermione quickly checked Harry for injury before moving to help the Alyssa and Timothy. McGonagall sighed and turned to Harry.

“An explanation, if you would, Mr. Potter.” Her voice was weary, he noted, and he wondered when she had last gotten a decent night’s rest. At least her hair was back to normal.

“Could it wait until Professors Snape and Flitwick arrive ma’am? I’d like to only go through it once.”

“No need, Mr. Potter! We are both here. And I must say, I was most impressed by your patronus. Most adult wizards cannot cast one, let alone charm it to speak.” At Flitwick’s voice, Harry turned around to find both of the other professors he had summoned standing behind him.

“I was more interested in what could be so important that would require us to drop what we were doing and immediately heed your call.” Snape looked down at him with unconcealed contempt, and anger flared in Harry’s chest. Strange, I thought I had given up getting angry over what he says…

“It wasn’t his fault, Professor.” Alyssa appeared by his side, her arm in a sling, which Hermione was still attempting to adjust.

“Would you stay still for two seconds, ‘Lyssa?” Hermione hissed at her. The younger girl stood still, but continued talking.

“When those three apes attacked me and Tim,” she gestured to the three students Madame Pomfrey was levitating onto stretchers, “Harry came and ended the fight. Don’t know how it would have ended if he hadn’t shown up.” She finished her speech, but Snape wasn’t looking at her. He was glaring at Goyle. Then his eyes flicked to Timothy and back to Alyssa. Is that concern on his face?

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Alyssa and Tim would have ended the fight admirably if I hadn’t shown up. It would just have been messier. I-”

“Miss Bolton! Mr. Bolton! You’re both coming with me. Now, please.” Both siblings cringed as they turned and followed the mediwitch, and three floating stretchers out of sight. Harry was suddenly very tired. He didn’t want to do anything more tonight. Especially not explain the events of the evening to three angry teachers. Even Flitwick looked ready to kill.

“I don’t suppose any of you could teach me to use a Pensieve, could you?” He looked up hopefully.

“Harry, Pensieves are tricky things to master. That’s why they aren’t used more often in court cases and such. Not even you could learn to use one properly in one night,” Hermione answered him. Then he had a stupid, reckless idea.

“Professor Snape! Could you take the memory? Then you could decide punishments and such?” The man looked slightly shocked, but he recovered quickly. Probably deciding it would be less painful than listening to Harry’s account of the event, he nodded.

“Very well Mr. Potter. Legilimens!” Harry had walls up around his mind now, and had been practicing Occlumency since the end of fifth year. Snape could force through them, he knew, but that would be painful for both of them. Forcing down the instinct that told him to shove Snape out of his head, he dropped his walls. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea…

*Most likely, Mr. Potter, but as we have begun already, would you stop wasting time and direct me to the memory you wish me to view?* Harry sighed mentally and called forth the memory at the beginning, at checking the Marauders’ Map and running to the scene of the attack. He felt the anger boil anew as he rounded the corner to see three almost-adult wizards attacking two children. He ended the memory as Alyssa concluded her initial explanation, and quickly shoved Snape out of his brain. Certain things did not need to be shared. As he opened his eyes, he saw the tall man actually stagger backwards a step. Once again, the feared Potions Master seemed shocked, but again he recovered quickly.

“Go back to your dormitory, Mr. Potter. And you, Miss Granger. It is far past curfew. Rest assured we will handle this from here.” Snape’s voice lacked its usual malice. Hermione was the one who looked as if she might argue, but Harry didn’t want to spend another moment in Snape’s presence, and strangely enough, he trusted the man to dole out fair punishments in this instance. Grabbing Hermione’s hand, he bade a hasty good night to the professors and literally dragged her away.

“What was that?” Hermione demanded once in the common room.

“What?”

“That. The whole, legilimency thing, and the leaving in such a hurry.” She put her hands on her hips and stared up at him, for the first time noting how tired he looked. “But we’ll sit down while you explain.” He shot her a grateful look as he sank into a nearby armchair.

“It isn’t that complicated Hermione. I didn’t want to be interrogated, so I allowed Snape to access the memory. And I think that in this case his punishments will be as fair as possible. It leaves us out of it, which is precisely where I want to be.”

“Funny, I thought you wanted to be in the middle of everything…” She grinned at him and he smiled sarcastically back at her. “One more question… Why do you look so tired? I thought you were still maintaining those stupid glamours?” She looked at him worriedly. She hadn’t been surprised that he hid his resemblance to the potions professor. That could be dangerous. And honestly, the fact that Harry hid the dark circles under his eyes wasn’t shocking. Usually Harry balked at shows of weakness and did his best to hide any cause for pity. That he was letting them show now seemed a cause for concern.

“The glamours… They’re tiring. I dropped the ones covering for my skin tone and covering how little sleep I get. It takes too much energy to maintain. I think I’m going to stop hiding the way my hair looks and let the glamour there fade naturally and gradually, so nobody will notice. I want to minimalize what I’m hiding to just face shape, eyes and eyebrows. I’m letting some of my mom show through now. See? I have freckles.” Sure enough, as she leaned in closer, she saw a smattering of very light brown dots over his nose. She was impressed with the charms work of selectively dropping aspects of his glamour.

Impulsively, perhaps stupidly, she leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips with her own. It could barely be called a kiss. “G’night,” she mumbled coloring brilliantly before turning and scampering up the staircase to the girls’ dorms.

Parvati sank into the sofa next to Draco. “It’s weird just meeting like this, with no tests to study for.”

“Nice, though,” Padma added from her armchair in front of the fire, closing her eyes. Outside the window, snow was falling steadily.

“We’re in for a white Christmas,” Harry commented idly. “I almost wish we were spending the holidays here, Maya.” He hadn’t said anything about the kiss, and neither had she. They talked and laughed as always, but both were too afraid to bring up the subject. It was as if it hadn’t happened.

“What, and miss out on crowds of Weasleys, muggles, and werewolves? You wouldn’t want to do that, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Besides, the castle will be so peaceful with you gone. Right Blaise?”

“Ugh… I have to spend two whole weeks with only Draco for company? How is that fair?” Blaise whined. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of Padma’s chair, and thumbing through an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.

“The professors will be here too,” Hannah pointed out logically, smiling.

“And I hear Dumbledore really gets into the holiday spirit. If you’re lucky, some of the teachers will drink too much. They did the one year I stayed. Think of Dumbledore’s usual eccentricity, times ten.” Neville grinned. Blaise groaned, and Draco glared at Neville. The Gryffindor just laughed. “I think I’ll go raid the kitchens. Anyone want to come?”

“I will,” Padma spoke, standing, with a disgusted glance at where her sister was blatantly flirting with Draco. She followed Neville from the room, returning later with armfuls of butterbeer bottles.

Half an hour later all eight teenagers were drinking butterbeer, laughing and telling stories.

“Do you remember the look on McGonagall’s face when she walked in? And Snape too…”

“Now that I think about it, we got off rather easy. Just cleaning up the popcorn? I expected a month of detentions at least.”

“Hermione, that doesn’t really say much. You’re a pessimist,” Harry said.

“I am not!” Hermione exclaimed indignantly, to the laughter of her friends. “I’m not! I prefer to think of myself as a realist. ‘Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.’”

“She’s right. I was expecting a worse punishment as well. I think they were too shocked. Professor Snape seemed almost amused. And what is it they say… ‘The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.’ Is that such a bad thing?” Hannah said as she grabbed another butterbeer. That started a lively debate on the advantages of seeing the glass as half full or half empty, which turned to pure silliness within ten minutes. It was nearly midnight before they parted, two at a time, using the Marauder’s Map to avoid patrolling teachers.

Only when he stumbled out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place did it occur to Harry to wonder just to whom the house belonged now. As Remus helped him to his feet, Harry voiced the question. Remus frowned.

“Albus hasn’t explained yet?” He looked much the same as when Harry had last seen him, though with more grey hair, and lines deepening on his face. At least his robes were new.

“No, we haven’t really spoken… Of course, we didn’t really part on the best of terms last year either. And he’s seemed really preoccupied.” Remus nodded absently.

“We’ll talk after dinner, okay Cub?”

“Sure Remus,” Harry replied, blinking away tears at the nickname. He wasn’t sure if he could stay a week here. Even the smell of the old house was bringing back memories of Sirius. Remus looked at him sympathetically. Harry nodded, understanding the unspoken words, and turned away.

“Harry! Come here! My family’s already arrived!” Hermione yelled from the kitchen. A little nervous, Harry headed towards her voice. Relax! It’s not as if they realize I’m more than half in love with their daughter. Or that she kissed me. Or that I keep hoping it’s going to happen again. Steeling himself and entering the room, he saw Hermione standing by the sink with her mother, while her father and an old woman Harry hadn’t met before were seated at the table. Hermione stopped midsentence and smiled at Harry when he walked in.

“Hello,” he said awkwardly, addressing the room at large.

“Harry, you’ve met my parents, Steven and Alison Granger, and this is my Nana, my dad’s mom.” Hermione was still smiling, obviously thrilled to see her family. Harry felt a slight twinge of jealousy, but quickly pushed it away.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and Mrs. Granger,” he said, nodding to each member of Hermione’s family. Mr. Granger opened his mouth to speak, but his mother beat him to it.

“None of that ‘Mrs.’ nonsense for me, young man. You can just call me Nana,” said the woman Harry hadn’t recognized. She smiled at him and Harry was startled to realize she had the same warm brown eyes as Hermione.

“That goes for us too Harry. You’re our daughter’s best friend. I’m Steve, and this is Aly.” They both smiled at him, and Hermione’s mother poured two more cups of tea, for him and Hermione.

“Thank you,” was all Harry could manage. Conversation and love flowed easily around the table. Like the Weasleys, all those years ago, the Granger’s accepted him into their family. But it was different, because they were accepting him as Harry, without really knowing about Voldemort or the Boy-who-lived. And in some indefinable way, it was more important to Harry that Hermione’s family accept him.

With Kreacher dead, a subject about which Remus was rather tight lipped, Mrs. Black’s portrait was silent. Remus speculated that the old house elf may have been channeling some of his life force into the painting. Harry called Dobby, and asked him if he’d be willing to help out with Christmas preparations. Dobby then enlisted Winky, and with a force of the two elves, Harry, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, who had been staying at headquarters for several months, the Grangers and Nana (though only in the safer areas), the gloomy Dark residence was transformed into a cheerful holiday wonderland by December 23rd.

It was midnight by the time everyone had slipped off to bed. Harry sat in the armchair in front of the fireplace, letting his mind wander. He was slipping into his meditative state when Remus entered the room.

“I promised we’d talk, but it’s been a bit hectic around here. You do have Lily’s ability to get things done.” He looked at the Christmas tree in the corner, which was covered with happily glowing fairies Winky had persuaded to take a vacation from Hogwarts. “Sirius would have loved to see the house like this.”

“I wish he could,” Harry replied softly, automatically tearing up. He had avoided thinking about his godfather for months, and with a simple comment from Remus, the grief was pushed to the surface. The man looked at him with concern.

“Have you cried yet Cub?” Tears streaming down his cheeks, Harry shook his head.

“No. Not really.” He stopped crying with a heroic effort, and wiped his eyes.

“Harry… You need to grieve. You need to talk…”

“I don’t want to bloody talk!” Harry snapped. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry Remus. It’s just… difficult. I go from grief to anger to guilt to plain old confusion in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s alright Harry. I do too sometimes. I wish I could have been there for you over the summer, but the Order kept me rather busy. I was pretty much a wreck myself. Tonks actually took my wand and wouldn’t let me out of the house until I talked to her about Sirius and we both had an emotional breakdown.” At Harry’s apprehensive look, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to employ the same tactic with you.”

“Good. I’d hex you into next year once I had my wand back. But on a side note, what’s going on with Tonks?” Harry smirked a bit at the older wizard’s blush. “I see…”

“Harry James Potter, we are not discussing my relationship with…”

“Relationship?” Harry grinned now, pushing aside the twinge he felt when Remus used his middle name. Did James Potter know Harry wasn’t his son? Could Sirius have loved Harry had he known the truth?

“Yes, Harry, relationship. One that isn’t any of your business, young man.” He said with mock sternness. “Changing the subject, I want to talk to you about Sirius’s will.”

“Harry’s grin faded, and he looked at Remus intently. “I hadn’t honestly thought about it.”

“I know.” Remus shook his head. “That’s one of the most amazing things about you Harry. Even when Sirius was alive, it didn’t occur to you to wonder how much money he had. He bought you a Firebolt, he owned this house, and was throwing away priceless treasures just because he didn’t like the reminders. And you never asked for anything. Never gave any indication you even thought about money. And now, well, I bet you wouldn’t care if all Sirius’s worldly possessions had been divided amongst his friends.”

“They weren’t? He knows… knew… that I already have the Potter vaults.” Harry was surprised at Remus’s assessment. It was true that he never gave any thought to Sirius’s wealth, or his own for that matter, but it just hadn’t occurred to him. Now that he thought about it, it would make much more sense to leave everything to Remus and a few others.

“Sirius left me a small house in Hogsmeade that he bought only recently. I’m staying here only until it’s properly warded. And enough money to live very comfortably for about 500 more years.” He shook his head. “He left Andromeda and Ted Tonks another small fortune, and left some money and a lot of the more harmless family heirlooms to Tonks. I think he was hoping she’d come up with creative ways to destroy them. The Weasleys were given a good sum as well. Grimmauld Place and the rest of the money are yours. That’s something like 2 billion galleons.”

“Two billion…” Harry stared openmouthed at Remus. “You’re joking.”

“At one point, Harry, the Blacks were richer than the Malfoys. At the moment, the Potters, by which I mean you, are the second richest family in Britain.” Harry stopped breathing for a moment. How would Remus react if he found out that Harry wasn’t a Potter? That he was a Snape? The werewolf misinterpreted his look. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, snapping out of his panicked thoughts. “What on earth do I do with 2 billion galleons?” Remus just laughed at him.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Now, why don’t you tell me about all this extra time you’ve been spending with one Miss Hermione Granger?”

“Harry! Get out of bed! It’s Christmas!” Hermione banged on the door with her fist. A moment later it opened to reveal a very sleepy looking Harry Potter, wearing only a pair of striped pajama pants. Ok, that sight is a Christmas present in itself… She must have been staring, because Harry glanced down at his bare chest and blushed before retreating to grab a shirt.

“You take the Dreamless Sleep potion last night?” Hermione asked as they walked downstairs.

“Yeah, wanted to be well rested for Christmas.” She smiled at him, but wished she could do something so that a good night’s rest wasn’t such a rare occurrence. In the living room, her parents and Nana were already gathered around the tree. Professor Lupin and Tonks entered as the two teenagers settled themselves on the floor.

“Happy Christmas everyone,” Lupin greeted, starting a chorus of holiday greetings around the room. Then it was time for the gifts. Hermione received a giftcard to a bookstore in Hogsmeade from Professor Lupin, and one to a muggle bookstore from her parents, as well as a beautiful new quill and stationary set, which she supposed was a hint to write more often. Tonks gave her a book on magical and muggle techniques to change someone’s appearance, with the promise to show her some of the trickier spells.

Nana gave her clothes, including an adorable denim skirt that was shorter than anything she currently owned. “You have nice legs, and you should show’em off while you’re young enough to do it.”

Harry watched her closely as she unwrapped the gift from him, which turned out to be a delicate platinum locket in the shape of a book, with a phoenix engraved on the cover. Opening it, she found a tiny moving photograph of the two of them sitting by the lake. She could feel the strong protective magic radiating from it.

“That should help block a lot of lower level spells, and it will grow hot if you’re about to consume anything containing poison or a dangerous potion,” Harry explained. She immediately put it on and nearly squeezed the life out of him with her hug.

Harry received several hardcover muggle classics from the Grangers, and a book titled How to Be a Gentleman from Nana. Hermione blushed when she saw it, but Harry just laughed and thanked the interfering old woman. Lupin’s gift to Harry was a framed photograph of himself, Harry, and Sirius, apparently taken sometime the previous summer. He also gave Harry several books on Wizarding customs and politics. Tonks gave him a small worn paperback. “The Auror Handbook. It’s illegal for you to have it, since you aren’t in auror training, but you need it more than anyone. And if you decide to be an auror, you’ll have a headstart.”

Harry lifted the package from Hermione and shook it next to his ear. “It’s not a book is it?” He joked, glancing at the large pile of books beside him, though the package was small enough to fit on the palm of one hand. Opening it, he found the white gold bracelet nestled in its case. It was composed of simple links, except for the thin, narrow, curved plate that was the front of the bracelet.

“Put it on,” Hermione urged, reaching into the pocket of her robe to pull out a similar, but smaller, bracelet and putting it on. As Harry fastened his, looking puzzled, she pressed two fingers to the plate on hers. Harry, feeling his new bracelet grow warm, looked down to see the words “Merry Christmas” appear on its surface. “Only you can read it, and only you can take it off. To send me a message, just press the plate and concentrate on what you want to send.”

Hermione watched him examine the bracelet more closely, and then felt her own grow warm on her wrist. Looking down, she did a double take as she saw the words “I love you” appear briefly on her wrist, only to be replaced by a simple “Thank you” a split-second later. She stared at Harry, forgetting the others in the room as they looked at each other. Does he even realize he sent that? Then, ignoring the fact that her parents and grandmother, and his only paternal figure, were watching, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Her head spun, and she barely heard Nana’s wolf whistle or Tonks’s cheering as she pulled back and looked into his eyes, registering the insecurity, hope, and love she saw there. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

After the surprisingly mild talk from Hermione’s parents, who, it seemed, approved of him, a “You take good care of my granddaughter now, you hear?” from Nana, and a rather embarrassing conversation with Remus, who felt it his duty to make sure Harry knew the facts of life and got a decent lecture on safety and responsibility, Harry was drained. He made it through Christmas dinner, and withdrew to talk with Hermione for an hour, during which he formally asked her out, she laughed at him and said “Of course,” and there was more kissing, between the adults poking their heads in “to check up on them,” or as Hermione put it “to make sure they weren’t shagging like bunny rabbits.”

Harry fell into bed that night with a smile on his face, and, for once, fell asleep immediately.

Voldemort stood in a dimly lit room with opulent furnishings. A Death Eater entered and knelt at his feet.

“He’s here, My Lord,” the man reported, still kneeling.

“Good Luciusss… Bring him in.” Harry realized his situation and reinforced his mental shields. Then he tried to slowly extricate himself from Voldemort’s mind. He really didn’t want to see whatever this was. And he needed to report that Malfoy was out of prison. He came across a barrier. Voldemort’s own mental shields were keeping him trapped. *Yesss Potter. I know you’re here, watching. I need your help tonight.*

Voldemort’s voice sounded cold and serpentine even in his mind. Harry let fear and disgust radiate past his mental shields, hoping to keep Voldemort from realizing he knew some Occlumency. If he realized, he could smash through Harry’s relatively weak shields in seconds, but as long as he thought Harry’s mind was an open book…

Malfoy returned, with another Death Eater behind him. “Ah, Severus. How nice of you to join us. Please, both of you, remove your masks.” Voldemort turned to Harry once more as the two masks revealed the faces of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Harry thought fast. If he didn’t know Snape was a spy, what would his reaction be? He projected shock, anger, and a smug “I knew it” feeling to Voldemort. Then he started pushing memories past his shields.

Snape sneering at him on the very first day of school. Snape taking points from Gryffindor. Snape making jibes about Harry’s father. Snape’s fury and hatred when he threw Harry out of his office after the Pensieve incident. Snape’s speech in DADA at the beginning of the year and his obvious appreciation of the Dark Arts.

It seemed that Voldemort was disappointed. He turned his attention back to the two men kneeling in front of him. “Apparently Severus, I have no reason to suspect your loyalties… for the moment. Though, I think your obvious hatred of Potter and his friends might be giving away too much about whose side you’re on, don’t you? An over-the-top performance. You’ll have to work on that. Crucio!”

Snape writhed on the floor, face contorted with pain, but didn’t make a sound. Voldemort watched with sadistic glee, not ending the curse until an anguished scream was torn from the Potion Master’s lips.

Severus woke to the familiar surroundings of the Hogwarts infirmary. Frankly, he was surprised to be awake at all. He had assumed Lucius would drop him at the usual site outside Hogwarts grounds, but nobody knew that he had been summoned. It happened suddenly, while he was in Knockturn Alley buying potions supplies, and there was no way for him to get a message to Dumbledore. After a solid ten minutes of Cruciatus, he was out cold and would have been incapable of movement even had he been conscious. So how did I get here?

He could hear voices coming from Poppy’s office, but he wasn’t about to draw attention to himself. The mediwitch would discover that he was awake on her own, and she would fuss and scold enough to give him a migraine, and he hadn’t the slightest inclination to make that happen sooner than it needed to, even to satisfy his curiosity. He sighed, and shifted his head to a more comfortable position.

“Professor? You awake?” Came a whispered voice from his right. Turning his head rapidly, Severus realized he was not the only patient in the infirmary. In the bed next to his was the bane of his existence, Harry Potter.

“Obviously,” he drawled at Potter’s question. “Why are you here Potter? Getting yourself into trouble again?”

“In a manner of speaking. But only if you consider Voldemort’s mind to be trouble.” Severus groaned at the boy’s response. Will he never learn to shield his mind? You would think that after those disastrous Occlumency lessons he would have put some effort into it! Though I imagine it’s his incompetence I have to thank for my life. Doubtless his report caused Dumbledore to look for me.

“That, Mr. Potter, is the very definition of trouble. I assume you informed the headmaster of last night’s events?”

“Only that Malfoy is back, that you were tortured, and approximately for how long. He wants details, but agreed to wait until you were awake so that I could repeat the story only once.”

“How considerate,” Severus replied, turning his head to stare at the ceiling. He was not in the mood for idle chit-chat with Potter. Or anyone, but especially Potter. He hasn’t been as bad this year… More mature perhaps. Or maybe it is only that I don’t have to deal with him in class. It is easier to deal with the boy when not confronted with evidence of his incompetence.

It was silent for several minutes. He assumed they shared the goal of avoiding Poppy’s attention, and was immensely grateful for the quiet. Then he heard faint whispers from his right again. Turning, he saw Draco and Blaise standing at the foot of Potter’s bed, the three of them apparently absorbed in conversation. Potter nodded in his direction, and the two Slytherins turned to look at him. Draco smirked.

“Uncle Severus!” His godson greeted softly, walking over. “Good to see you awake. Don’t you love the bed arrangement? Blaise and I suggested you and Harry be placed together so you’d both have someone to talk to.” Severus’s glare could have melted stone.

“Why you little…” He began, but was interrupted by Potter’s furious whisper.

“You thought it would be funny to watch Professor Snape kill me, why exactly? I swear when I get my wand back I’m going to hex you both into those wriggling puddles of goo Hermione mentioned as an appropriate fate. Better yet, I’ll just let Hermione have at you.” Draco clutched chest in mock terror. Blaise actually looked a bit nervous.

“Not nice, Potter. Besides, Uncle Severus wouldn’t kill you, just throw some hexes, and yes, I think it would be very amusing to watch. But since he’ll now contain his annoyance with you, just to annoy me, I’ll have to come up with an alternative form of entertainment.” His grin grew wider. “Oh Madam Pomfrey!” Draco called, and the mediwitch immediately bustled over. Severus groaned and glared once more at his godson, who had the audacity to smirk at him. The glare seems to be losing its effect. These children used to cower when I looked at them like that.

Then Severus noticed Potter’s gaze, which was focused on Draco. The Gryffindor’s face was scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, Draco was tap dancing wildly. Potter was smirking. Draco was yelling. Poppy was scolding. Blaise was laughing. Severus was staring at the boy-who-lived in shock. Wordless, wandless magic? With no training? Has the world gone mad? When did he learn that? How?

It was several minutes before Madam Pomfrey could return Draco to normal, since it was difficult to train a wand on someone moving so erratically. Draco and Blaise left, Draco shooting death glares at a still smirking Harry Potter, while Poppy fussed over Severus, making him eat a piece of chocolate and take his usual assortment of post-Cruciatus potions. Then she turned to Potter.

“How do you feel Mr. Potter?” He looked up at her with obvious exasperation.

“I was okay last night, but you insisted I stay for observation. Madam Pomfrey, I’m fine. I’ve gotten a decent night’s rest, and I was never physically harmed. May I go now? Please?” The boy’s eyes were wide and innocent as he begged for his freedom.

“Puppy eyes don’t work on me, Mr. Potter. You may go tomorrow morning, if I think you’re strong enough. These visions are mentally, physically, and magically draining for you. Don’t roll your eyes! And don’t even try to tell me you had a restful night. I haven’t ever seen anybody toss and turn as much as you do. In fact, tonight you’re taking Dreamless Sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“I took some on Christmas Eve.” He replied, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t. Severus did.

“And why, Mr. Potter, did you feel the need to take that potion on Christmas Eve? Couldn’t you sleep for the visions of sugar plums dancing through your head?” His tone was biting, but he was curious to discover whether or not his suspicions were correct.

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business, Professor.”

“Don’t take that tone with me young man!” To Severus’s great surprise, Potter just stared at him, blinked slowly, and nodded. It was something he sometimes said to his godson, when the boy’s cheek got out of hand, but never had it worked so well with Draco. Why is he looking at me strangely?

“Sorry Professor,” Potter said quietly. “Nightmares. Most nights. Not too bad, but I didn’t want them on Christmas.”

“And where, Mr. Potter, did you procure the potion?” Severus wasn’t going to waste this rare cooperative mood the boy was in, especially as he wanted answers about that display of wandless magic. Potter, obviously startled by the question, seemed to weigh his options before answering. Poppy left them and returned to her office, seemingly uninterested in the rest of the conversation.

“Hermione made it for me.”

“You’re lying.”

“How do you know that?”

“I didn’t. I suspected, and you confirmed. The truth, if you would.”

“I made it. It isn’t all that complicated really.”

“Tell that to my NEWT potions class.” Severus regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth. It was a compliment. Given rarely, and never to the spawn of James Potter. The boy stared at him for a moment, and then broke into laughter.

“You…” Potter gasped for breath, giggling uncontrollably. “Your face… you look so… horrified.” Severus glared at the boy, but it only resulted in a fresh wave of laughter. Gradually, the raven-haired teenager pulled himself together. He looks like Lily when he laughs. “Don’t worry Professor. I’ll consider it just an insult to your NEWT class. I’m sure no compliment was intended.”

“I’m glad to see you getting along so well. I honestly hadn’t expected Mr. Malfoy’s idea of placing you together to work so marvelously,” Dumbledore greeted them, eyes twinkling madly, as he conjured a chair.

“Do you know how annoying it is when you just pop out of nowhere like that?” Potter asked the headmaster irritably, sitting up a bit.

“Of course, dear boy. That’s why I do it.” Severus heard Potter mutter something under his breath about old men eating too many lemon drops, and smirked slightly. The headmaster didn’t comment. “So, Severus, how do you feel?”

“Peachy.”

“Now Severus, no need to sound so irritable. Sarcasm isn’t an effective method of communication.” Dumbledore turned to Potter once more. “So, Harry, why don’t you recount your vision for us, from the beginning, if you please?”

“Okay…” The boy took a breath before beginning. Then another. He looked a bit like he was going to puke. Then he launched into the story, speaking so quickly that Severus had a hard time distinguishing words, but the headmaster seemed to have no trouble following along. “I’ve been practicing Occlumency a bit over the summer, and I had my shields up before I went to sleep. The problem is, when I’m sleeping, I don’t think it matters. The link with Voldemort is too deep inside my mind. I found myself in his head again, in some fancy room.”

“Very specific, Potter. What color was the room? What did the furnishings look like?” Severus was tempted just to use Legilimency on the boy, just to prevent a headache, but if Voldemort somehow found out this conversation had even taken place…

“Green. Very Slytherin. A marble fireplace.”

“Yes, Malfoy Manor. The vision was accurate, at least in location.”

“Malfoy told Moldywarts that you had arrived, and then sent him to fetch you. I tried to pull myself out of the vision, but I ran into barriers. Then Voldemort started talking to me.” Severus was startled by this bit of news, but didn’t show it. Dumbledore’s eyes lost a bit of twinkle, and he leaned forward in his chair.

“You couldn’t leave his mind, Harry? Did you try?”

“Not really. Maybe if I used all my willpower to slam into his mental barriers I could have escaped, but I didn’t want to let on that I knew anything about the Mental Arts. So I stayed.” Potter glanced from Dumbledore to Snape, making sure there were no more clarifications required, before continuing. “He said he needed my help, and then Malfoy came in with Professor Snape.”

“I cannot note any discrepancies.” Severus replied to the headmaster’s inquiring look.

“He made them take their masks off. I figured he wanted to see what I know about Sna… Professor Snape’s loyalties. So I started thinking about every time he took points, or gave detention, or said anything horrible, and fed all of the emotion to Voldemort. I don’t think he suspected anything. But I must have gone too far, because then he cast Cruciatus because your act was too much, and he wanted to hear you scream, and you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t stop until you did, and I tried to project satisfaction, but I was terrified…” Potter’s voice trailed off and he looked helplessly at Severus. “I’m sorry.”

Severus just stared at the boy. Is he lying about practicing Occlumency, or did that incident with Black finally teach him to take it seriously? How deep is his connection with the Dark Lord? If he learns discipline, can we use it to our advantage? Is this an act, or genuine concern? And where the hell did he learn wandless, or wordless magic?

When it became apparent Severus wasn’t going to reply, Dumbledore touched Potter’s hand to get his attention. “Harry, it wasn’t your fault that Professor Snape was tortured. Voldemort would have used any excuse. He enjoys pain, and he’s been suspicious of Professor Snape for some time now. He will not act until he has proof, because having an agent inside Hogwarts is too valuable to him. You protected the secret admirably, and bought us more time.”

“If it’s so dangerous, why let Professor Snape continue spying? What happens when Voldemort finds out?”

“As touching as your concern is, I am perfectly aware of the dangers involved here, Potter, as is the headmaster. The details of my work for the Order are between us, and do not involve foolish would-be heroes,” Severus sneered at the boy.

“Forgive me, Professor, for my obviously unwarranted anxiety about your safety, and of course, the safety of the only organization actively fighting the megalomaniac who wants to destroy civilization. I can see you have it under control,” Potter snapped.

“Ah! Unfortunately I must take my leave. Things to do, you know,” Dumbledore cut in loudly, before vanishing his chair and walking away, humming happily to himself. Potter sat up in bed and got into a cross-legged position, with his back to Severus. Severus turned so that he didn’t have to look at Potter. And now that he’s busy pouting, I don’t suppose he’ll answer my questions about that display of wandless magic. Perhaps he’ll be done with sulking by tomorrow morning and I can get him to talk then. The boy’s been hiding a lot, and I want to see just how much everyone’s been missing.

Hermione was in the library, too worried to read. Professor Lupin had said Harry was to be kept for a day or two of observation, and it set her brain to creating all sorts of scenarios. They’ve never had to keep him that long before, for just a vision? Was this one different or more damaging? Have there been long term health effects of the connection that nobody saw until this time?

She was pulling a heavy book about magical injuries from its shelf, hoping to find something on curse scars, when her wrist grew warm. She dropped the book on a nearby armchair and looked down at her bracelet. “Bored…”

“Stuck in the infirmary?” she replied, relieved to hear from him.

“With Snape… who is fine, by the way. And being his usual self.”

“I’m sorry.” Hermione knew Harry was intent upon keeping his parentage secret, even from Snape, if the man didn’t already know. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to avoid the confrontation with his volatile biological father, but if he didn’t she had a feeling his questions would just eat at him from the inside until he went crazy.

“Haven’t hexed him yet. Hexed Malfoy. Was funny.”

“Talked to Professor Dumbledore yet?”

“Yes. Man’s loony.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true! Anyway, I’m fine, you can stop worrying.”

“Coming back tonight?”

“In the morning. Pomfrey finally has me where she can drown me in potions, and she’s not letting go easily.”

“Okay. Have fun. See you tomorrow.”

“Hermione?”

“Still here.”

“Miss you.”

“Miss you too. Get some sleep.”

“It’s not even dark yet!”

“Don’t care. You need sleep.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Hermione smiled and returned the book to its was pretty sure Harry had already looked through it anyway. She browsed the library for something interesting to read until bedtime. She scanned the shelves, humming to herself, and thinking about a certain green-eyed boy with jet black hair… Stop that! Hermione Granger, your brain is turning to mush. Just because he’s your boyfriend… Oh my God, Harry’s my boyfriend! She gave up on trying to make her thoughts behave. It was hopeless. She walked along the shelves, absently running a hand along the spines of the books.

Maybe they were too young to be in love, but when she thought of him, that was the only word that seemed to fit. She loved the way he looked when he stumbled out of his room in the morning, hair tousled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. She loved his boyish delight in discovering something new, or grasping a new concept. She loved his intelligence and his humor. She loved that she could trust him with her secrets.

Suddenly her hand tingled. Looking down, she saw her hand was resting on a large brown book. Curiosity overwhelmed caution as she pulled it from its shelf, and brought it over to the table in front of the fireplace. It had no title, only a heart engraved in the leather of its cover. Opening it to the first page, she saw a warning in flowing, blood-red script.

A power beyond any other, love is incorruptible.
People are not.

Use the knowledge imparted by these pages with care.

Flipping through the pages, Hermione’s face flitted through expressions of apprehension, curiosity, horror, and wonder. This could be useful.

Harry was relieved when Madame Pomfrey released him from the infirmary early that morning. Snape was still sleeping, and therefore couldn’t ask the questions that Harry was sure would pop up. Careless! Why did I have to use wandless magic in front of Snape, of all people? Hermione’s going to kill me when she finds out. Or lecture me about how I should have already told the adults. Wasn’t thinking…

Unfortunately, Dumbledore didn’t think it wise to send Harry back to Grimmauld Place with only two days left of vacation, especially since his mental shields were still weakened. Though he was keeping in touch with Hermione through the bracelets, he still wanted to talk to her, and possibly get around to some serious snogging. Wandering into the library, he saw Madame Pince sitting at her desk, sorting through new books she had ordered.

“Mr. Potter, if you’re going to loiter in here, you will be reading. There will be no food or drink, and you will stay out of the restricted section. Am I understood?” She looked up long enough to fix him with a glare, only looking back down when he nodded his acknowledgement. Harry walked to the back of the library and grabbed a book from the potions section. He found he really enjoyed potions brewing when he could take his time and experiment. With a start, he realized that he and Hermione still hadn’t tested her potion. Or tried to find her animagus form. They would have to do both when school started again. And he wanted to do some more research on the air phoenix, his own unusual animagus form.

It was the growling of his stomach that finally pulled Harry out of the potions text . With half the book to go, he decided to check it out and read during lunch. In the kitchens, Dobby was thrilled to serve him a heaping platter of sandwiches, a bowl of potato crisps, a large salad, a tall glass of pumpkin juice, and an ice cream sundae for desert. He was so focused on eating that he didn’t even crack open the book. Finding Draco and Blaise didn’t hold much appeal, as he really wanted some quiet, so Harry headed back to the library. Setting potions temporarily aside, he searched for any book with information on patroni.

Finding one volume entitled “Guardians of the Heart” with a picture of a wispy swan patronus on the cover, he settled in to read once more. The book proved to hold a wealth of information. In the few recorded cases of a child producing a patronus, it was usually the “true form” of a parent, usually who the child felt closest to. A true form, the book explained, was generally the animal that one had the potential to become if one was an animagus. An adult who wasn’t in love would have their true form as a patronus, while others’ patroni would take the shape of their loves’ true forms. So the stag was my dad’s true form. What about the rest of the forms when it changed in Snape’s classroom earlier? The fox… I bet that was my mom. The snake… Probably Snape. Ugh. The bird… must have been the air phoenix! It was so fast I didn’t recognize it… That was my true form. So what is the panther? Love… Hermione. Hermione’s true form is a panther. It has to be.

Harry continued to read, not stopping even when he had to struggle to keep his eyes open. Maybe that vision weakened me more than I thought. It was a bit different from the others. He didn’t stop reading until his eyes drifted shut, and the book slid from his fingers to the floor.

“Mr. Potter!” A shrill voice jolted Harry from his slumber. Reluctantly opening his eyes, he saw a very angry librarian standing over him. A few feet behind her, smirking slightly, was Snape. Harry sat bolt upright in the chair. Madame Pince brandished a book at him, nearly hitting his nose. “On the floor, Mr. Potter. My book. Why was it on the floor?”

“I’m sorry Madame Pince. I must have fallen asleep while reading it. It must have slipped…”

“That’s no excuse! Take better care Mr. Potter!” She glared once more and stomped away, muttering angrily. Snape just stood there and stared at Harry as if studying him.

“Come with me Mr. Potter.”

“What? Where?”

“Do not question me Potter. Just do as you’re told.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed Professor, I don’t exactly trust you.”

“Mr. Potter, you will accompany me to my office, where we will talk. I believe this is a conversation you would prefer that nobody hears.” Snape turned and began walking. Harry followed automatically. He knows I’m his son. He’s going to tell me he doesn’t want anything to do with me. But that’s good. I don’t want him as a father. How is he my father? Will he tell me? Could I use Legilimency on him? Of course not! Stupid! He’s a master Occlumens, and I’ve only been practicing Legilimency for a couple weeks, and that’s been on Hermione, with her consent. Maybe he’ll let it slip, and then I can stop wondering.

They stopped in front of Snape’s office doors where the professor whispered a password, and glided into the office, Harry following, still lost in thought. The doors closed automatically behind him, the click of the lock rousing him from his reverie.

“Why am I here Professor?” Harry was impressed with how even his voice sounded. He pulled up his Occlumency shields, surprised at the effort it took. With the glamours and the mental shields, it took all of his remaining energy to focus on Snape’s response.

“You know precisely what we are here to discuss Mr. Potter.” Severus was not in the mood to play games with the boy. He wanted to know where that little show of wandless magic came from.

“How long have you known?” Harry asked shakily, sinking into a chair. He was surprised at Snape’s calm, but supposed he shouldn’t be. The man was cold. He probably felt no emotion at all about the topic.

“Since yesterday, obviously.” Severus noticed the boy’s rather extreme reaction. He supposed Potter must have thought he could keep his secret longer. That Severus hadn’t noticed his slip-up.

“I realized it a few months ago.” Harry’s voice was little more than a whisper, and he just stared at the floor.

“We have to test this,” Severus muttered.

“Already did,” answered Harry.

“Did you think nobody would notice? This is serious Mr. Potter. You should have brought it to someone’s attention as soon as you discovered it. Though the patronus should have been a giveaway.” The last part was to himself. Severus knew he should have noticed the boy’s power levels were extremely high when he produced the patronus in his third year. Wandless, wordless magic though. Only Dumbledore and the Dark Lord could do that.

“I figured eventually somebody would notice, but I had hoped I would have longer to adjust. I’ve been keeping up glamours to keep me looking like James Potter.” Harry stared at his scuffed up trainers. Would life have been better if he had grown up with his real father? At least he wouldn’t have been wearing Dudley’s hand-me-downs. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to let on that I was your son. I can keep them up indefinitely, but I guess eventually…”

“My what?! Are you insane? Potter, I don’t know what potions you’re on, but there is no way in hell that you are my son!” Severus stared at the boy in shock. What would possess him to say something like that? Was the boy mad?

Harry’s head shot up, and he took in Snape’s reaction. He hadn’t known, Suddenly, it was too much work to hold himself upright, and Harry passed out in his chair. With the last of his energy, his glamours vanished completely.

Severus just stared down at the boy. A boy, who, as much as his rationality screamed denial, looked very much like his son.

Severus Snape had a guest. In his quarters. If you could call an unconscious Harry Potter a guest. The boy was currently lying on his couch, after Severus had carried him through the floo from his office. His son. How did this happen?

“Where are we?” came a voice from the couch. The boy was sitting up, looking around the room. It was tastefully decorated in many shades of green with dark wood furniture. Most likely the boy imagined that my quarters had stone walls and that I decorated with jars of slimy potions ingredients.

“My living room Potter. Your glamour fell.” Severus watched the boy for a reaction, but his face remained blank and he just blinked slowly. Severus couldn’t keep himself from staring at this new Potter. He had Lily’s eyes framed by dark lashes. High cheekbones, fair skin, and an angular nose that identified him as a Snape. Luckily for him, his nose wasn’t as prominent as Severus’s. The slight freckles were from Lily. There wasn’t a trace of Potter in the boy. The only way Severus could be sure he was looking at Harry Potter… or whatever his name should be… was the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“You really didn’t know?” the boy asked quietly. He was looking straight up at Severus. With Lily’s eyes.

“No. I did not. How did you discover this? What did you do to test it?” Severus sank into an armchair. The boy explained how he first noticed the physical changes during the summer, but then cast a glamour and didn’t realize the extent of the changes until he let the glamour drop. He glossed over that part, and Severus suspected there was more to the story, but let it go for the moment. The boy described the paternity test that confirmed his suspicions.

“Do you want to see the test?” The boy didn’t look at him. He was most likely mortified at the prospect of Snape being his father, and talking about it only made it worse. Severus was still too shocked to analyze his own reactions. He did need to see the paternity test for himself.

“Certainly. That would confirm that this isn’t a cruel joke by one of your idiot friends.” The boy just ignored Severus’s clumsy barb, and Severus felt a tug on his mind. He allowed himself to be pulled into Potter’s memories, and saw the ink form his face next to Lily’s on the parchment. Then he felt Potter try to push him out of his mind, but Granger was talking in the memory, and he wanted to hear. It didn’t surprise him that she had discovered his relationship with Lily, but he wanted to know what else the bookworm had dug up from the past. As he watched, Potter stopped trying to eject him from his mind, and just let the memory run its course.

“When I mentioned to Madam Pince I was looking for information on your mother for you, she gave me this. Your mother wrote it in her seventh year for credit in potions and charms. It is the idea for contained time warping. She theorizes that with a potion to limit the area and prevent the effects from overflowing, you could charm an area’s time flow to be faster or slower than real time. For example, you could go into the charmed room and spend three hours there, but outside the room everyone else would have only lived ten minutes.”

“I’d like to read that, but I don’t understand what it has to do with me.”

“Harry, I think she cast the spell on herself while she was pregnant with you. If she got pregnant while still in school, well, it would be scandalous! She might have cast the spell, and later, when she married James Potter, she cancelled it, and had you. Maybe she told Professor Snape, and he didn’t want a child, or maybe when he became a spy, she broke up with him and never told him, or they broke up and she didn’t want to have the baby out of wedlock, so she waited until she got married.”

“I guess it’s possible. Slightly far-fetched, but possible. It makes me feel better that they were friends, or more, at one point. I didn’t want to think I was an unwanted baby born of ra…”

Severus found himself shoved roughly out of the memory. He remembered that paper Hermione found. He had helped with the research. Hermione’s theories made sense, but were inaccurate. He and Lily hadn’t had sex until after graduation. But she must have used the stasis spell when he became a spy. When she left. When she ran to James Potter. He looked up at the pale teenager sitting on his couch. He thought Severus had raped Lily. Obviously he tried to talk himself out of the belief, but Severus could tell that was the only scenario that the boy found likely. As if he could have ever hurt her!

“Get out Potter.” Severus’s voice shook slightly. The boy looked like he wanted to argue for a moment. Severus could practically see the questions swirling in his head. Well, that was too bad. He wanted the brat out of his sight. The boy’s shoulders slumped with… defeat? exhaustion? resignation? “And reapply that glamour on your way out!”

Severus closed his eyes as the boy fled the room, hearing the door slam shut behind him. I don’t want a son. I thought I would never have children. Why didn’t Lily tell me? Because I would have made a horrible father. Still would. As if the boy would even want me as a father. I’m the hated greasy bat of the dungeons, death eater, and apparently a rapist to boot. I can’t blame him for that, in all fairness. What does he have to base his impressions on? And why do I even care?

He stood and made his way to a shelf where he kept a bottle of firewhiskey for bad nights. This definitely qualified. Severus was annoyed to hear his back crack as he stood and to feel the lancing pain that was the after effect of Cruciatus. With a tumbler of amber liquid in hand, he collapsed back into his armchair, and simply stared into the flames in the fireplace.

Did he want to try to be a father? No! I’m too old to begin now. Besides, I can’t stand the boy. He’s insolent, idiotic, reckless, spoiled… well not spoiled, perhaps… and not as stupid as he let on. But his attitude was intolerable. But all that power… Could he teach the boy? It would be dangerous. If the Dark Lord ever found out… Oh Sweet Merlin… Severus finished his firewhiskey in one gulp. My son is destined to battle Voldemort.

Harry sat on his bed in the deserted Gryffindor dorms, hugging his knees to his chest. Tears streamed silently down his face, glamour reapplied. Obviously Snape wouldn’t want anyone to know he has an idiotic Gryffindor bastard. No, that’s not fair. Probably true though. But nobody could know anyway. It would get back to Voldemort. At least I know for sure that Snape didn’t rape my mum. He was so horrified at the thought that I could feel it when he was in the memory. And he didn’t know. Maybe Hermione’s stasis spell theory has merit. I wish Hermione were here now. She could snap me out of this.

Harry angrily wiped the tears from his face with the heels of his hands. Why was he crying? You didn’t actually think Snape was going to want you, did you Potter? Snape? He hates you. A mocking voice that reminded Harry forcibly of Bellatrix sounded in Harry’s head. I don’t want him to be my father! I don’t want to even talk to him, or see him ever again! And he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’m just a mistake to him, and he’s only a horrible, bitter professor to me. And it can stay that way.

Wiping away the last of the moisture from his cheeks, Harry flopped back onto the bed, and focused on the serene image of the Hogwarts lake. Some time later he drifted into a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep.

Hermione was absorbed in the untitled book. The first chapters had been about simple charms that could be used in the household. There were ways to weave a mother’s love into blankets or clothing for her children, to protect them, or ward off illnesses. The book explained the binding enchantments on wedding rings that grew stronger as time went by, letting a couple sense each other’s emotions, or sometimes even somewhat intertwining their very magic. She skipped over the chapters on sex and lust magic, though she intended to read them later. The just didn’t seem to be relevant to her search for something to help Harry with the upcoming war.

The girl was too absorbed in a passage about sacrificial magic to notice when someone entered the room. Remus coughed slightly to get her attention.

“Oh! Sorry Professor! I didn’t see you,” she squeaked, closing the book hastily. It wouldn’t do for him to know she had this. Hermione got the feeling that some of the book’s content was borderline Dark Arts. Remus glanced at the heart on the cover of the book and chuckled.

“I didn’t figure you for the romance novel type Hermione. And please, it’s Remus. I’m no longer your professor.” The werewolf smiled at her. “So you and Harry, huh? I always thought you’d be with Ron, and he’d end up with Ginny. But I’m often wrong.”

“It could have gone that way, perhaps. I had a crush on Ron at one time, but Harry and I grew closer as Ron found friends with more similar interests to his own. Ginny did too in a way. I think she got over her infatuation and thinks of Harry as yet another brother now.” Hermione shrugged. “Harry and I just fit.”

“That’s great Hermione. You’re good for each other. Harry’s very lucky to have someone who cares about him as much as you do, and I think you know how lucky you are. Harry would walk through fire, or, knowing him, something worse, for you, without hesitation. I’m continually amazed that he turned out to be the person he is today, with all the hell he’s gone through.”

“I am too. I need you to promise me something Remus,” Hermione looked straight at him. “You need to promise that you’ll always see Harry as the wonderful person he’s become. You need to forget that he’s the son of your best friend, and just be there for Harry, the boy. I think he needs to realize people love him for who he is, and that it has nothing to do with who his parents are.”

“I promise. I admit I see more Lily in him than James anyhow. But I would never want harry to think I only like him because of his parents.” Remus fell silent for a moment. “I need you to promise me something as well. Promise that you’ll try to get Harry to open up about Sirius. Help him to stop blaming himself and move on. I know you will. If anyone can help him, it’s you. He trusts you more than he trusts anyone else in this world.”

“I promise. I love him.”

“As do I. He doesn’t realize just how many people consider him family.”

“No. He doesn’t. And we’ll all be there for him when he needs us.” Hermione’s eyes filled with tears, terrified of what could be in store for Harry, and overwhelmed by the love she felt for him.

“And he will need us Hermione. He won’t be alone, no matter what the future brings.”

Voldemort reched down his his mental connection to Potter’s mind. He found himself on the surface of a lake. There was nothing around but calm water, rolling hills, and a cloudless blue sky. Is Potter dreaming this? It doesn’t feel like a dream. Trying to reach deeper into Potter’s mind, Voldemort found he couldn’t leave the lake. Fuming, he retreated back into his own mind. Occlumency!

That was the only explanation. Someone had taught the boy. Or he had natural ability. But neither James or Lily Potter was a natural Occlumens, so he couldn’t be. In fact, the only natural Occlumens he knew of was Severus Snape. So the boy was taught.

Dumbledore wouldn’t have taken the risk. His mind was too full of secrets the boy could have accidentally accessed. McGonagall was decent, but not good enough to teach. That brought him back to Snape. He was the only one who could have taught the boy. He had suspected that he was a traitor, but the Potions master was to valuable a resource to waste without proof. Now, to his mind, he had it. At the next meeting, with all his followers present to learn from this example, Severus Snape was going to pay for his betrayal. Voldemort’s cold, mirthless laughter filled the room.

It was like a dance, Harry mused, the way that he and Snape avoided each other for the next two weeks. They both knew where the other was most likely to be at any given moment, and took pains to avoid that place. There was no stepping on each other’s feet. Hermione glared at him when he explained it to her. She was sure that they needed to sit down and hash out their feelings on the matter. Harry was pretty sure they just needed to maintain their distance.

The only time Harry saw Snape outside of meals was once when he was in the library. He had gotten a pass from Dumbledore to look at Advanced Defense books in the Restricted Section, and was reading in one of the armchairs when he heard robes rustling from his right. Looking up, he saw Snape, holding a book, and apparently destined for the very chair that Harry occupied. The man glanced at Harry’s book and rose one eyebrow slightly before turning and gliding away.

Hermione was caught up in a strange book she found at Grimmauld Place. He was curious, but she promised to show it to him when she was done reading, and explain an idea she had for the war. That of course, only made Harry more anxious to see the book, but he knew better than to ask to borrow a book Hermione wasn’t completely done with. She was rather possessive about her books.

As it turned out, Hermione was also rather possessive about her boyfriend. She noticed Lavender Brown flirting with Harry in the Great Hall the first morning back from vacation. Harry looked extremely uncomfortable, and Hermione’s glare could have melted stone.

“Oh, Lavender, could you do me a favor and stop drooling all over my boyfriend? Thank you.” And then she reached up and pulled Harry into a kiss, setting off a wave of whispers, and a catcall from Draco, who had taken to sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Blaise and Padma. Harry noticed, with some satisfaction, that Patrick, sitting farther down the Gryffindor table, looked a bit put out at the kiss.

At the first DA meeting they had to explain their relationship before they could get started, and squash some of the rumors that were flying around, including one that maintained Harry was under a love potion, and another that suggested they had been secretly dating since third year, and were only now telling everyone so that it wouldn’t come as a shock when they got married.

“Yes, we’re dating. No, there are no love potions involved. Yes, we just got together over the break. No, we haven’t even talked about marriage. Okay people, partner up, and let’s duel!”

The Room of Requirement was filled with spells, curses, and hexes as everyone paired off and began throwing every spell in their arsenal into the fray. Neville, Harry noted, was becoming an excellent dueler. So were the Bolton siblings. Alyssa was paired with Ginny, and though Ginny was obviously going to win, the younger girl was getting some good shots in.

“Harry?” Hermione called, as the last DA member left. The room transformed into their usual getaway. She walked over to the counter, and pulled out one vial of a golden potion. “Can we test this now?”

“Of course! What do I need to do?”

“Hex it.”

“What?”

“Harry, did you read the book I gave you on spell storage, in lockets, or crystal? So that you can retrieve the spell later, and use stored energy, instead of your present energy? It’s very useful in a battle.”

“I did read it Maya. But shouldn’t I be casting a shield spell or something? This is a protective measure, isn’t it?”

“I altered the calculations. That’s why I’m so nervous. This is an all purpose shielding potion, but so much more potent. It will block all low level spells, but I also added an element of spell storage. Instead of releasing the stored spell, the potion will protect you from that spell being cast at the drinker, as long as the stored spell is of the same or a higher power level.”

“So if I store a really powerful stunner in this potion, and then I drink it, and you try to stun me, nothing will happen? But it won’t protect against other spells? So you could still use a tickling spell on me?”

“Not a tickling spell. The potion does still block the normal low level curses that an ordinary shield potion would block. But if I shot a cutting hex at you, and you had only stored a shield spell, yes, you would be vulnerable. It’s limited”

“It’s still a hell of a lot better than anything we have now. So, a stunner. Right at the potion?”

“Dip your wand into the potion.” Hermione watched anxiously as Harry touched the tip of his wand to the golden liquid in the vial. He had to store the spell in the potion, because his spells were more powerful than hers. If she stored it, his stunner would overwhelm hers and the potion wouldn’t work. As he cast the spell, the potion glowed red briefly, and then turned back to gold, though a lighter shade than it had been previously. “Great! When it turns clear, like a normal shield potion, that should mean it’s filled to capacity. You could probably store another hex in there. But don’t! I want to test this first” She held out her hand for the vial. Harry smirked, and drank its contents himself.

“You didn’t think you were going to drink it?” He asked, smiling. “You need to record the results. I’ll be the lab rat.” Hermione glared at him.

“Harry! I was supposed to test it, because it’s my potion. What if something happens to you because of it? It would be my fault.”

“I trust you Maya. There’s nothing wrong with the potion. Now, stun me.”

“Stupefy!” Shouted Hermione, still glaring at the Boyfriend-who-was-to-chivalrous-for-his-own-good. The beam of red light shot from her wand and hit Harry in the center of his chest. He looked down, and then back up at her, and started to grin. “Stupefy! Stupefy!”

“Hey, one was enough!” Harry looked at her quizzically. She stared back at him. She rose her wand again.

“Stupefy!” she shouted, and this time, when the spell hit, he fell. With a wave of her wand, she woke him, mulling it over in her head. When he sat up, and simply rose an eyebrow at her, she answered his unspoken question. “Your stunner is at least three times more powerful than mine. It took four stunners to take you down. I need more test subjects.”

“Couldn’t you have told me what you were testing, before stunning me?”

“Maybe if you had asked before drinking the potion that I was going to test.” She answered reasonably, before sticking out her tongue at him. And then Harry was very close, his eyes dancing mischievously. Tilting her head, she stood up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. He kissed back, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her close, as she buried her hands in his hair. They pulled away when the need for oxygen became too great. And then kissed again. Ten minutes later, with only moments left until curfew, they emerged from the Room of Requirement, lips swollen, and hair in an incredible state of disarray.

Hermione waited after Arithmancy. She was nervous about bringing in outside help on this project, but she trusted Professor Vector. Harry agreed, and stayed with her after class as she approached the professor’s desk.

“Do you have a moment Professor?” The usually stern teacher looked up at the sound of Hermione’s voice and smiled.

“For a real, intelligent question? Anytime.” Her eyes shifted to Harry. “I’m a bit surprised at the development, but it seems you two are the best students in my class. Neither of your parents was much good at Arithmancy in school, Mr. Potter, but you’re showing real talent. And it’s not often I get to teach a student as talented as you Miss Granger. So what can I help you with?”

“This…” Hermione handed her the sheaf of papers detailing all of her research and calculations for the spell storage potion. Professor Vector rose her eyebrows.

“Very impressive. Spell storage? So much of the work done on that is highly theoretical… Wait, you want to store spells in a potion? What’s the trigger? Oh, hold on… You’ve switched it? I’ve never seen anything like this… Have you tested it?” Suddenly the teacher looked years younger, her blue eyes shining with excitement.

“Yes, we did. On Harry. He stored the stunning spell, and then I had to stun him four times to knock him out. The thing is, it’s so limited. Harry could store maybe two powerful spells in a vial, and it’s not safe to take more than one vial an hour.” Hermione’s expression matched the teacher’s as she explained the areas of her work that could use improvement.

“We talked about using it to block Unforgivables.” Harry interrupted quietly.

“But Harry, I already told you, you can’t block them. That’s why…”

“No, Miss Granger, he’s right. You might be able to. No spell is powerful enough to block an Unforgivable, because those spells are powered by hate. The only thing that can combat that is love, and it’s too difficult to harness into a spell. But this… You would use the power of an Unforgivable to block it… If we could increase the power capacity of the potion…”

“So, will you help?” Hermione asked hopefully.

“Of course! Not only is it the most interesting project I’ve seen in years, but it’s potential in the fight against Voldemort…”

“You say his name?” Harry asked, surprised. She looked at him sadly.

“I lost so many friends to that monster. I won’t give him the satisfaction of fearing his name. Your mother… She and I were pretty close in school.” She paused. “Severus. We need Professor Snape.”

“I think I’m going to go…” Harry started to edge towards the door. Hermione grabbed his arm.

“No, you are going with us to ask Professor Snape for his help. Because you’re a supportive boyfriend, and it’s your project too.” She smiled sweetly up at him, and he nodded, resigned. Professor Vector laughed.

“Oh, you remind me too much of Lily Evans. Though it was mostly Severus she handled like that in school, not James… Come on. Let’s go visit the dugeons.”

Severus looked up from the endless essays to the knock on his door. “Come in,” He called, assuming that one of his Slytherins needed to talk to him. He was rather surprised when Septima Vector opened the door. She never ventured down here. She was one of the few people he still enjoyed talking to, but their friendship had faded after Lily’s death.

“Do you have a moment Severus?” She asked. He nodded and set down his quill. Septima entered, followed by Hermione Granger. And Harry Potter. Severus struggled to keep his expression neutral, while a thousand questions whirled around in his head. Is this about the boy? Did he tell her? Does the Granger girl know? Of course she does. But why would they tell Septima? And why is the boy down here? What happened to the avoidance plan?

“Professor Snape, we’d like to ask for your help. With a project of mine. Well, Harry’s and mine really. Professor Vector has agreed to assist in the improvements, and I was hoping you would help with the potions aspect. So…” the Granger girl trailed off and held out a packet of papers. Relieved that this seemed to be only a school related request, which he could easily brush off, Severus relaxed. He took the papers and glanced through them.

They brewed a shield potion? I don’t even teach that in NEWT classes. Might be useful to have this girl assist when the war breaks out… Merlin! If I’m reading this right that will be one powerful shield. Reminds me of the project I did in seventh year. Now what’s this… Spell storage? In a POTION? If this works… Why is this child in Gryffindor?

“Rather far-fetched, but an interesting concept,” Severus said coolly, handing the papers back to Granger. “Our” project indeed. This is so far over Potter’s head… “Potter! How long does this potion simmer after adding murtlap essence?”

“Forty eight hours sir,” the boy replied, looking up at him defiantly. Maybe it was only Severus’s perception that had changed, but the boy looked more like Lily than he had even two weeks ago.

“And what, Mr. Potter, keeps the potion stable when that ingredient is added?” This one was difficult, Severus knew. He even had to think about it a bit when he was reading the girl’s notes.

“That one Hermione had to explain to me. I thought the potion was going to explode when she added it, but she said the salamander blood stabilizes it, which makes sense, as murtlap essence cools, and salamander blood burns. They cancel each other out.” The boy actually smirked a bit. Why does it surprise you that he has a brain Severus? His mother did, his father does… Maybe because he never showed it before…

“Have you tested the potion for spell storage yet?” Severus asked. Granger gave a huge grin and launched into the narrative of their test. When she mentioned how many times she had to stun Har… Potter before he fell, Severus stopped her. “He absorbed three stunners?”

“Couldn’t the potion have amplified it?” Asked Septima curiously. Severus shook his head.

“If anything, the potion would make the stored spell less powerful, simply because a tiny amount of energy is used in the act of storing the spell, and then unleashing it as a shield. Mr. Potter, can you maintain a continuous blasting hex?” Severus asked suddenly. The boy nodded. “Good. Finally a glimmer of competence. I’m going to shield this empty vial, with a very strong spell. Focus the hex on the vial, and don’t end the spell until it breaks.”

“Okay…” Potter stared at the empty vial on the table, and cast a blasting hex. Severus counted as he watched the yellow beam that stretched between his wand and the shield around the vial. At thirty seconds, the vial broke, sending glass everywhere. “So what did that do?”

“That, Mr. Potter, was a widely accepted test of magical power. It takes me forty three seconds to break the shield. The average is about one minute. I believe Dumbledore has accomplished it in twenty four seconds. Apparently, under your ignorant and childish exterior lies a well of power that, with training, could match the headmaster’s.”

“I… So what do I do to train?” Potter asked, looking rather helpless and pathetic. Granger reached over and squeezed his hand, and he smiled at her. Severus sneered at their display.

“You find somebody willing to teach you to harness the power. Now, Septima, are you free on Wednesday evenings to work on this project?” At her slight smile and nod, he turned to the two Gryffindors. “Miss Granger?”

“Wednesdays are fine sir. Thank you.”

“Mr. Potter, I assume you are also going to grace us with your presence?”

“Yes sir.” If the “sir” was rather sarcastic, neither Septima nor Granger seemed to notice. Both of them nodded farewell and left the office. Potter remained behind.

“Well, Mr. Potter? What is it?” If the boy wanted to talk about that, he was in for a rude awakening. Severus didn’t even want to think about that.

“Professor, will you train me?” the boy asked, his face an unreadable mask. Well that’s… unexpected.

For the first time in years, Severus Snape reached under his bed and pulled out a box of pictures. He used his wand to banish the dust before lifting up the lid. The first photograph was of Lily. She was holding her Hogwarts diploma and smiling at the camera. The promise ring Severus had given her sparkled on her finger. The next picture was of the two of them about a year after graduation, sitting on the sofa, with Lily’s head resting on his shoulder. They were so young.

He remembered the day she left. It was three months after Severus agreed to Dumbledore’s plan. He would become a spy. He was the ideal candidate. A Slytherin from a dark family, enemies with the stars of Gryffindor. There was only one problem. He was known to be dating a muggleborn witch. So he distanced himself. He stayed away from their flat for days at a time. Lily was patient with him, putting up with him longer than he thought she would. It broke him to hear her crying at night.

Then she left. He had the perfect excuse to join the Death Eaters: fury at the betrayal of a mudblood. So he became the Order’s most valuable spy, and gave up his only chance of a future. A year after that, she married James Potter, and barely nine months later, their son was born. The son she named Harry, a name she had always told Severus she would name their first son. She knew Harold Prince, his uncle, was the only family that Severus actually liked.

He was shocked at the first Order meeting that Lily and James attended. He met her deep emerald eyes for what felt like an eternity. And then he stood and gave his report, never looking away. She cornered him afterwards.

“Severus! Is this why? Why you left me?”

“I seem to recall it was the other way around.” It was his plan, but it had hurt, still hurt, to lose her.

“You know what I mean… So it was this? The spying? It wasn’t… another woman?”

“Oh gods Lily, you know I could never have done that to you! I… needed to push you away. Everyone had to believe you left me. Even you. And now, you’re… married.”

“James will be a great father. I just… I wish… Oh Severus, was it worth it? To give up what we had?”

“I’ve stopped ten attacks from happening. So many people who could have died… So many people I could prevent from dying in the future. This means something Lily. Maybe eventually I’ll stumble upon some information that could give us a real tactical advantage. Maybe end this war.”

“I know Severus. I just wonder, if I had known…”

“I didn’t want you to. You deserve to have a life. Even if it is with Potter.”

“I thought you two had gotten over your schoolboy quarrels. James is a good man Severus.”

“Yes, he is. That’s what you need. A good man. I’m just an alright one.” He turned and walked away. He wasn’t James Potter. He wasn’t heroic and pure. Lily deserved someone like that, not someone damaged by the horrors he witnessed almost every night. From behind him, he thought he heard a whisper.

“No, Severus. You aren’t a good man. You have the makings of a great one.” But he knew it was only his imagination.

Glancing at the clock, Severus realized it was almost midnight. Tomorrow he would begin training Harry Potter. Why did I agree to that? Because he’s my son. Lily’s son. I owe it to her, and I owe it to him. He may still be spoiled and arrogant, but I’ve put him through hell because he was James’s son, but he was always mine.

Severus sat on the bed, still holding the box of pictures. Lily would be so ashamed of the way he had treated their son, even after he found out about their relationship. Hell, she’d be furious. He needed to explain things to the boy, and at least give him the tools he needed to survive. He had asked for help, hadn’t he? Maybe it wasn’t as hopeless a case as Severus had thought.

Could they be father and son? Severus scoffed at the thought. He didn’t hate the boy any longer, but he certainly didn’t like him, and Harry Potter was well known to despise Severus Snape. Perhaps though, with time, they could work on tolerating each other. It was the least he could do for Lily.

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Harry wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans as he approached Snape’s office. Before he could even knock, he heard Snape’s voice call for him to enter. Why did I ask for this? Oh yeah, because the man’s a genius, and you need to learn defense, Occlumency, and control of your magic, all of which he can teach you.

Herry pushed open the door and took a few steps into the room. Snape was sitting behind his desk, and he put down his quill as Harry entered. “Have a seat Mr. Potter.”

“Sir, before we begin, I’d like to apologize for invading your privacy last year. I really wasn’t looking for personal memories, only for some clue about what everyone was hiding from me. It won’t happen again. I’d also like to say thank you for agreeing to train me.” Harry figured it couldn’t hurt to be polite, and he really did feel badly about viewing the memory. Snape’s face was unreadable as Harry spoke, and he only gave a short nod of acknowledgment, but Harry expected little more.

“Mr. Potter, while you may be under the impression that subtle skills such as potions and Occlumency are of no use to you, I assure you that they are. I believe that with Miss Granger’s help you have achieved some degree of proficiency in potions, so we will not focus on that subject. You wish to train your power, but you cannot until you learn to control your thoughts and emotions. Especially for wandless magic, where intent is all that matters. You won’t have your wand to help you focus, so you will need to focus your mind. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir,” Harry answered. Strangely, even if Snape had started with an insult, his tone seemed less biting than usual.

“Very well. I am going to attempt to invade your thoughts, much like last years lessons. I want you to clear your mind of all emotions. Any worries or preoccupations will only hinder your progress. If it will assist you, picture in your mind a place that you find peaceful. Focus on that, and do not let me disturb that peace. Ready? Legilimens!”

Harry thought that last year’s lessons would have gone much better if Snape had explained what ‘Clear your mind!’ meant way back then. What he described sounded suspiciously like the method Harry used to block unpleasant memories from his own mind. With the ease of long practice from his life at the Dursley’s, Harry slipped into his meditative state. Floating on his back on the lake, with his memories, thoughts and emotions hidden safely below the surface, the most unpleasant locked firmly in a trunk at the bottom of the lake. He could hear birdsong, and the water lapping against the shore. The shore where Snape was standing, looking rather displeased. So I guess I didn’t manage to keep him out of my head. Harry opened his eyes.

“Mr. Potter, what was that?”

“Ummm, It’s what I picture when I’m at the Dursley’s and I don’t want to think about anything. But I guess you got in. Should I try a different image?” Harry waited for Snapes biting remark, but it never came. The man just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He looks tired.

“Mr. Potter, would I be correct in assuming that your memories are in the water in this scene you’ve created?” Snape asked. Harry nodded nervously. “It seems, Mr. Potter, that you have natural Occlumency abilities. They can only be inherited, which is why I did not bother to test you for them before. Wait here. Don’t touch anything.”

“Yes sir.” Harry stood perfectly still in the center of the room as the Professor left through the back door. He didn’t want the volatile man to have any excuse to yell at him. Moments later, the Potions Master swept back into the room, holding a tattered book.

“Thyis, Mr. Potter, is a book specifically for natural Occlumens. I would like you to read it by our next lesson. Today is Monday, I have staff meetings Tuesdays, and we are beginning work on improving that potion on Wednesday, so will Thursday suffice?”

“Professor, I have Quidditch practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Umm, There’s DA on Fridays, but Hermione can run it fine without me…”

“These meetings end when?”

“Well, they’ve been earlier now that they aren’t secret, so about 8:00.”

“That’s fine. Report here when the meetings finish, and I will write you a pass if our lessons go past curfew. I expect to see you here, with whatever assignments you have been given completed, every Monday and Friday evening. For tonight, I would like to get an idea of how your mental barriers function so that I can show you how to improve weaknesses.”

An hour later, Harry was walking back to Gryffindor tower with the Occlumency book tucked under his arm, many of its pages marked because Snape felt those areas needed extra work. He had a splitting headache, but they had made progress, and Snape had only snapped at him a few times. If training continued this way, Harry was certain he could master Occlumency and get a decent handle on wandless magic.

Once in he common room, Harry had to relive the evening for Hermione’s benefit, and then they tried to kiss goodnight, which quickly turned into a full-blown snogging session, and Harry didn’t make it to bed until midnight. Physically and mentally exhausted, he didn’t even bother to clear his mind before falling into a fitful sleep.

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Severus arrived in front of Riddle manor and hurried inside. The Dark Lord didn’t forgive tardiness, or anything else really, very easily. Once inside the meeting room, he knelt at the Dark Lord’s feet, awaiting recognition.

“Severusss…”

“My Lord,” replied Severus reverently, rising.

“Crucio!” The Dark Lord hissed. Severus fell to the ground. His body was on fire, being pricked with thousands of needles, his skin being pulled from his bones. He couldn’t think of why he was being punished. Usually he could figure it out… So much pain… After an eternity, it stopped. “You, my dear Severus, have finally proved yourself a traitor.”

“No... Master, I live to serve…”

“Liar! Crucio!” Once again, Severus’s world was plunged into pure pain. When it let up again, he was hoarse from screaming, and he couldn’t move. “See what happens to traitors, all my loyal Death Eaters. Ahh, Severus, so careless. To teach the brat Occlumency? You didn’t think I would know? He couldn’t be a natural, and you’re the only one to teach him. Crucio!”

Severus tried to deny it, to make up a story, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. The torture continued, stopping only occasionally. All of the Death Eaters joined the fun, and the Dark Lord just watched. Severus passed out several times, but they always woke him. The monster planned on letting them torture him to insanity, like Belatrix did the Longbottoms. Finally there was a reprieve long enough for him to catch his breath.

“Lucius, make a portkey to just outside the Hogwarts gates. I want to send his corpse back to that old fool,” the Dark Lord ordered. From somewhere to his left, he heard Malfoy whisper the spell. “Good. Now place it in his hand.” Why wasn’t the sick bastard’s voice hissing?

“But Master, I set it to transport five seconds after it leaves my hand. He isn’t dead yet…”

“You think I do not know this? Do as I say without question!” At that tone, Malfoy senior scurried to obey. He dropped a tin of mints it Severus’s twitching hand. Severus had just enough energy to look up at the Dark Lord’s face. Before he was whisked away by the portkey, he saw Voldemort’s eyes glowing. They were glowing a bright, warm, emerald green.

Harry woke up in the hospital wing. Looking to his left, he saw a head of black hair in the bed next to his. Déjà vu… Well, if Snape’s here he’s still alive at least. Might as well get this over with…

“Madam Pomfrey?” Harry called. Immediately, the mediwitch appeared and bustled to his side, looking worried.

“What is it dear? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing ma’am. I just had some questions…”

“Oh, that’s a relief. You do realize, Mr. Potter, that this is the first time you’ve voluntarily alerted me to your consciousness? Usually you want to avoid any attention for as long as possible. I imagine you want to know how you got here then? Well, you tore down one of your bed curtains in the night, and Neville Longbottom had the good sense to firecall me. Once we got you out of that bed, we could hear you screaming… I presume you’ve been using a silencing spell?” She asked, giving him a disapproving look. He nodded, and she sighed. Before she could continue, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Hermione saw that he was awake and was by his side in an instant, arms thrown around his neck.

“Need.. to… breathe…” Harry gasped. She blushed and pulled away, before leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I’m sorry. I interrupted. I was just so glad to see you awake… Please go on,” Hermione said, grabbing Harry’s hand and taking the chair by the bed.

“It’s quite alright Miss Granger,” Madame Pomfrey replied, with rare tolerance. Turning to Harry, she continued, “Miss Granger has barely left your bedside. I had to force her out to go eat lunch. Anyhow, while you were yelling last night, you said something about Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore became very concerned. He sent a few Professors to wait by the gates. Meanwhile, we tried to wake you, but it was completely impossible. After about an hour and a half, you stopped screaming and thrashing, and a few minutes later, Professor Snape was brought in. He’s still in bad shape, but he’ll live. We gave you some dreamless sleep potion, and you slept for another ten hours."

"Has the professor woken up at all?" Harry asked, wondering why he was so concerned. Worry gnawed at his insides.

"No. His healing will take quite some time. I believe Remus Lupin is returning to teach his classes for at least the next month. People do not recover from that many Cruciatus curses in a day." She looked sadly over at Snape before continuing briskly, "And you are in need of some recooperation yourself. Yet again, Mr. Potter, you are physically drained. If I were to test your magical power levels, I have a feeling you would be at an all time low. So, while I will let Miss Granger stay for a bit, you need to get some more sleep. Don’t argue with me Mr. Potter. And you, Miss Granger, could do with some sleep yourself, as you’ve been down here since five this morning.” With that, she bustled off to tend to other patients.

“Oh, Harry, I’m just happy you’re alright. I couldn’t believe it when Neville told me this morning. I was getting ready to meet you in the Room of Requirement before classes…” she trailed off, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. “What happened Harry?”

“I… forgot to clear my mind before sleeping. I’m glad now, I suppose. I had a vision. He knew, Maya. Voldemort knew that Snape was a spy. He tortured him, for longer than I’ve ever been tortured. Then the Death Eaters took turns. They were going to kill him. I started fighting, trying to make it stop. I was thinking, if I could just start firing some hexes at those bastards… And then my arm, Voldemort’s arm, it moved. He actually started a spell, but then he got back control. I was actually controlling him for a few seconds… and I realized it. We fought for a long time. Snape was in really bad shape. Somehow I won the fight. I got control of his mind, and ordered the Death Eaters to give Snape a portkey. Maya, they’re like dogs. It’s disgusting. Malfoy did it, even though he knew it went against the plans Voldemort had, even though it let Snape live, just because he was too afraid to contradict Voldemort…” Harry took a deep shuddering breath, and Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“That’s pretty amazing Harry. You saved Professor Snape’s life. And you’re safe now.” Hermione leaned in and kissed him again. “I’m glad you told me.” At his girlfriend’s obvious relief and pride, Harry just had to smile. He was so glad to have her with him. It was easier to talk to Maya than to anyone else in the world. His grin turned into a yawn, and Hermione mock-glared at him.

“Now, Mr. Potter, you need to go back to sleep. Go on Harry, I’ll stay.” She curled her legs under her in the chair and laid her head on the mattress, still holding Harry’s hand. He handed her one of his two pillows, and they both shut their eyes, Harry in a vain attempt to get more sleep (he had just woken up!), and Hermione just to rest her eyes for a bit. When Madam Pomfrey came to kick Hermione out ten minutes later, both teens were lightly snoring. Shaking her head, she left them to their rest, and went to give Professor Snape his next batch of healing potions.

Hermione was awoken by a bloodcurdling scream. Harry’s grip on her hand was turning her fingers white. Madam Pomfrey rushed over, with Professor Dumbledore right behind her. The mediwitch pried Harry’s fingers from hers as the headmaster tried to wake her boyfriend. Harry’s eyes flew open, and he sat upright, eyes darting about. In the normal emerald green of his eyes, there was a red flash. The headmaster stepped back, a look of panic on his face.

“He can’t fight this for long… He used up his energy reserves last night…” At Hermione’s confusion, he continued gravely. “Voldemort is trying to take over his mind. And Harry’s magic has been severely weakened. In his normal state, especially with his improvement in Occlumency, he could keep Voldemort out. But he’s already in, and Harry doesn’t have enough magic left to push him out and put up his mental shields again…. I don’t know… how this will end. We need to get you out of here. You too Poppy. And the other patients.”

“No!” Hermione heard herself scream. She wasn’t leaving. She could help. She could fix this. There had to be a way to fix this… He couldn’t be taken over by Voldemort. He couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let it happen. She loved him… She loved him… That was it! “Professor! I can help him!”

“Miss Granger, I’m afraid there’s nothing…” The headmaster began, but Hermione ignored him, and pulled the book she had taken from Grimmauld Place out of the bag to begin searching through it. She found the page quickly, and scanned the passage. She could do that. She handed the book to Professor Dumbledore. He read it quickly. “Miss Granger, this is very dangerous. If you do not end the spell when you need to, you could use all of your magic, and lose it forever. Or you could start feeding him your very life force.”

“I know Professor. But I have to try…”

“You must act quickly then, to transfer the power while Harry is still in control, or risk a backlash of you trying to give power to the wrong person. You know about the backlash? That also could kill you is you do not truly, deeply love the person you are connecting with. This spell is powered by your magic, but what you are giving him is your love.”

“I know.”

“And you know that this could not be enough? You’re a powerful witch, but Voldemort… You could run out of magic before… It all depends on the strength of your love, and how long you can safely sustain the spell.”

“Professor, I have to do this. A thousand things could go wrong. But I think that love-powered magic is the key here,” she said. She didn’t have time to analyze the look of shock and dawning comprehension on the headmaster’s face as he handed the book back to her. She turned to Harry, who was twitching on the bed, head tilted back, mouth open in a silent scream. She grabbed his hand again. All this needed was physical contact. Taking a deep breath, she began to read the incantation.

As she read, she focused on Harry, on how she felt about him. She thought about the way he kissed her, or just held her hand while they both read. She thought about when he went with her to ask for Professor Snape’s help even when he didn’t want to go anywhere near the man. She thought about his bravery, his hidden intelligence, his smile. She poured her love into the spell, giving meaning to the archaic Latin phrases, and desperately hoping that he would just hold on, that it would be enough. Because she loved him, needed him. It would have to be enough.

Why can’t it just be over? I can’t do this anymore

… Harry was struggling frantically against the looming presence in his mind that was Voldemort’s consciousness. And he was losing. He could feel Voldemorts’ triumphant glee. He would take over Harry’s mind and use the boy to kill the traitor, that meddling old fool, and the interfering little mudblood. No! He wouldn’t ever hurt Hermione… He would torture the girl until she begged for mercy… He had to stop this so that she would be safe…

Suddenly Harry’s efforts seemed to be a bit more powerful. He pushed Voldemort mostly out of his head, but the twisted thing that was the Dark Lord clawed its way back in, not giving up without a fight. Then Harry heard it. Hermione’s voice in his mind, chanting softly, “Don’t leave me Harry, keep fighting, you can win this, don’t leave me, I love you…”

A bright, warm light was building, and Harry knew instinctively that it was Hermione’s doing. It was all in his mind, but he could have sworn he smelled fresh parchment and a lightly floral shampoo, tasted the coffee and peppermint of her kisses, and felt her held running idly over his chest as it often did while he was trying to concentrate on a book. With a new determination, and a well of power to draw on, he pushed back the tendrils of Voldemort’s mind, fighting back the evil with the love surrounding him. The dark presence in his mind disappeared. Harry slipped into meditation, calling up the scene on the lake. This time, though, Hermione was floating on the surface beside him.

“Is this your shield Harry? It’s beautiful.”

“Yes. What was that? The light, and the power?”

“I’ll explain later Harry. I have to break the connection now, or it could use up all of my power. You need to wake up… wake up… wake up”

“Wake up Harry, come on,” came Hermione’s voice. Harry opened his eyes to see Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey looking at him worriedly. He attempted a smile.

“What was that?” He asked. For a few terrifying moments, he thought Voldemort was going to win. Quickly, Hermione launched into an explanation of the love-based spell. She was still talking at her usual million-words-a-minute pace, but Harry could still tell she was tired. Dumbledore seemed to notice too, because he directed a nearby hospital bed to park a mere foot away from Harry’s. As she finished talking, Hermione noticed the bed as well. With a grateful look to the headmaster, she crawled under the covers and reached out for Harry’s hand. Wishing them a good night, the adults slipped out to let the teenagers sleep.

As Harry lay in the dark room, listening to the sound of Hermione’s even breathing, he let his mind drift back to the literal battle of wills he had just won. He remembered that bright, warm power that was Hermione’s love for him. It was hard to grasp just how much this beautiful, talented, intelligent, determined, loyal, fantastic witch truly cared for him. She loved him. Him. He was the luckiest man alive. Now he just needed to show her how much he cared in return.

“Well isn’t this cozy?” Draco drawled.

“It is rather, isn’t it?” Hannah agreed, looking at the sleeping couple.

“I didn’t know they made hospital beds that size,” commented Neville, noting the bed their two friends slept on was twice the size of a normal one.

“Can’t a guy get a decent night’s rest around here?” Harry’s sleepy voice came from the bed. Opening his eyes, he realized that his arms were wrapped around Hermione, and she had one leg and one arm thrown over his body. And they didn’t seem to be in two separate beds anymore. Comfortable, but with everybody watching, rather awkward.

“That’s interesting. Our magic must have fused the beds while we slept,” Hermione mused, just waking. Harry leaned in to kiss her.

“Ewww… Morning breath,” teased Draco. Hermione blushed scarlet at the realization that she wasn’t alone with her boyfriend. Draco smirked. He loved teasing these people. It was just so easy.

“How would you know Draco, when you’ve never woken up with a girl in your arms to kiss?” Blaise taunted him. Draco stuck his tongue out at his Slytherin friend.

Parvati interrupted the descent into immaturity. “I think it’s sweet. Don’t you Padma?”

“Hmmm? Sure,” answered Padma, who was watching Blaise push his hair back from his face in what she had decided was a very sexy manner. She missed the rather jealous look that Neville sent in her direction. He really liked Padma, and though a year ago he would have sat back and let Blaise have a shot, with his new confidence he was already brainstorming ways to make her like him instead. Pavarti saw the entire exchange and rolled her eyes. So now in addition to snaring Draco, she had too make her sister see that Neville was a much better match for her than Blaise.

By this time, Harry and Hermione were sitting cross-legged on the huge bed. Hannah hopped up next to Hermione, and pretty soon all eight teenagers were sitting in a circle on the bed, eating the chocolate frogs and every-flavor beans that Neville had brought, while Harry and Hermione filled them in on the previous day’s events.

“Sooo… ” Padma started when conversation came to a standstill. “Hannah and I have been talking.”

“Uh oh,” said Blaise, and everyone laughed. The Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff had become fast friends, and though the rest of the school underestimated them, this close-knit group knew better. Blaise, with his usual quiet observation, had deduced earlier that they had something they wanted to talk about.

“Anyway,” Hannah paused to let them finish laughing at the looks of outrage on her and Padma’s faces. “We were thinking that we should all start training for defense. Attacks on muggles and wizards are coming more frequently.”

“Isn’t that what the DA is for?” asked Hermione.

“Yes,” answered Padma, “but the DA is essentially a dueling club. It’s great to practice fighting, but we, our little study group, are going to be in the thick of this fight. Ginny and Ron will too, since they pretty much think of you as family, and they’ll fight with you as well. And, of course, Luna.”

“We think, that in addition to collaborating on school work, we should research ways to fight Death Eaters and protect ourselves. We should make potions, gather plants, enchant objects with runes, make up our own spells if we have to, but we should be trying to get ahead now, while we have time. And I think Pat should join us too.” Hannah’s voice was determined, and everybody listened carefully to the girls’ idea. For Hannah, it was simply amazing to have all these people to listen. The only people who usually respected Hufflepuffs were other Hufflepuffs.

“I think it’s a great idea. Maybe we should all just devote Sundays to this? We only needed the afternoon for studying before, but a full day with food breaks…” Harry smiled at Hannah and Padma. How did he get so lucky? He had all these wonderful people who genuinely cared for him, who were smart and motivated, who he could trust. Everyone agreed wholeheartedly with the plan, and pretty soon the girls had detached from the group, and were whispering among themselves. Hermione was rapidly taking notes with a conjured notepad and quill, Pavarti was offering new ideas, and they were all in full planning mode. Waving goodbye, they said they were headed to the Room of Requirement, and assured the boys that they would talk to Ginny and Luna.

“What do you think about inviting Patrick?” asked Harry to no one in particular. Blaise answered him.

“He seems trustworthy and he wants to fight. His parents were both very opposed to the Dark Lord in the last war, but they’ve been laying low this time around. His uncle was killed a few weeks ago, by Rockwood I believe. He was an auror.” Blaise offered his knowledge freely. With anyone but these friends, he would have made a deal for the information that he gathered. The greatest gossips in the school knew nothing compared to him, and he prided himself on knowing something about everyone.

“Are you asking because you’re unsure of him, or unsure of his intentions towards your girlfriend?” asked Draco, smirking again. He could read people like books, and at the moment, Harry was so obviously jealous. Usually the other boy’s emotions were closed off, but today…

“I’m not… yeah, okay. I think he likes her,” Harry admitted. “And I know she thinks of him as a friend, but what if one day…” He trailed off.

“But he likes Hannah,” said Neville, as if it should be obvious. And to him, it was, since both Pat and Hannah had spoken to him about it. “Pat kind of liked Hermione, but it was pretty obvious she was oblivious to any guys but you, even before you finally realized it. He got over it. When his uncle died, Hannah helped him through it a bit. They like each other a lot, but they haven’t really made anything ‘official’ yet.”

“Okay, well, I guess that makes me feel slightly better. I wasn’t really worried, but I still didn’t like the idea of Pat liking Maya.” Harry grinned his three male best friends. “Who’s up for a game of exploding snap?”

When the cards exploded in the fifth game, Madame Pomfrey finally put an end to it. “You boys are causing a rucus! My patients, including Mr. Potter, need to rest. I must insist that you leave now. You may visit, more quietly, in the morning.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” came a low drawl from the right. Harry’s head whipped around to see Snape propped up on his elbows in his bed. “That infernal racket was beginning to make the Cruciatus seem bearable. Close your mouths, Potter, Malfoy. You’ll catch flies to add to the already impressive collections rotting in the empty space between your ears. Poppy, what, pray tell, is today’s date?”

"Poppy, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. In my own quarters." If Harry didn't know better he would say a whine was creeping into Snape's voice. He couldn't blame him, really. The last few days had been hell. When they were awake at the same time, he and Snape avoided conversation and both lay there staring at the ceiling.

"Severus Snape, you are not leaving the Hospital Wing until I say that you are well enough, and you are not well." Madame Pomfrey met Snape's glare with her own. Perhaps in a week or so, once you've had plenty of rest and I can make sure your injuries are healing, you may leave, but heaven help me, if you," She turned to include Harry in her stern gaze. "If either of you even thinks about sneaking out of here, I will have the headmaster drag you back, and I WILL bind you to your beds."

"But Madame Pomfrey, I don't even have any injuries." Harry gave her his best puppy eyes.

"Which is why you will probably be released in the morning. If you behave." The mediwitch walked away muttering something about injury-prone idiots. Harry smirked. He glanced at Snape. The man was staring at the ceiling expressionlessly. Harry sighed and tried to get his pillow into a more comfortable position.

"Potter?" The tone of Snape's voice was off, and Harry whipped his head around to meet the black eyes of his father.

"Are you all right Professor?" There had to be something wrong. He sounded... nervous. An emotion Harry would never have associated with the imposing Potions professor.

"Fine, Potter. Or as well as can be expected. I am curious, however, about... that night. The headmaster told me the story but I still have several questions." Snape's voice was more confident now, but still seemed strange somehow. What was different?

"I suppose I would too if I were in your place. What would you like to know sir?" Harry kept his tone respectful. This was the longest civil conversation they'd managed this far and... that was it. Snape's words were missing the usual undercurrent of hatred and contempt.

"How did you come to occupy the Dark Lord's mind?"

"Maybe my new shields were too obvious, but he somehow figured out I had been learning Occlumency. Anyway, he got into my head enough to see that certain memories and thoughts were blocked to him, and I felt him get angry. And then I was having a vision of the meeting, and I took over for long enough to get you a portkey."

"Why?" Snape was sitting up now, staring at Harry like he was a particularly interesting potion ingredient. Harry guessed that this was the question that Snape truly needed an answer to, but Harry didn't really understand what he was asking.

"Why did I take over his mind? That was just a lucky accident that I exploited. Or why did I give you a portkey? To be honest sir, that's the only way I know of to get through Hogwrts' wards. I mean, that's what Crouch used when..."

"No Potter, why? Why did you risk yourself to save an enemy?" Harry was shocked. Surely Snape wasn't asking why he had bothered. But a look at the man's face assured him that he was. He was planning to die. Not that night, maybe, or maybe not until the inevitable final confrontation, but he didn't think he was going to make it through the war alive. He said enemy. Are we still?

"Are we enemies, sir?"

"You know what I mean Potter," the Potions Master snapped. "I disliked you and insulted you, and you were rude and lazy, since you started in my class. You don't like me or trust me, and furthermore, you know that you are much more important to the war effort than I am. So why did you do it?"

"First of all sir," Harry struggled to keep his voice even with the sudden return of Snape's usual tone. "I do not consider you an enemy. Or I would be pointing a wand at you, instead of answering questions. I don't like you. You don't like me either; I think we've both made that pretty obvious. We are both immature when it comes to each other, and I think we both have our reasons, however invalid they may seem in light of certain new information. I don't think either of us is ready to just forget sixteen years of bad history. Despite this, I do have a lot of respect for your role in the war, and you're brilliant at Potions. I hardly think you are dispensable to the fight against Voldemort. And, however much I dislike you, you don't deserve to die like that. Nobody does."

"You do realize that you would have died if not for Ms. Granger's timely interference, correct?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Yes sir."

"Idiot Gryffindor."

"Yes sir."

Hermione was walking to the Great Hall for lunch when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned around to see Remus Lupin striding down the hall towards her.

"Remus! I'm sorry, um, Professor Lupin. When did you arrive?" Hermione asked. She noticed that the werewolf was wearing new robes, and that he looked healthier. It was a good thing to see, and she knew Sirius would have been glad that some of his money went to helping out his old friend.

"Just this morning. Albus has covered the classes since Tuesday when Professor Snape was found. How are you doing?"

"Alright. I'm sure you heard all about our adventure Tuesday night?" At his nod she continued. "Well Harry's better, still tired, but he was released yesterday morning. He spent all day making up work for the week, and he's finishing up this morning. I was going to grab some food, and bring it back to the common room, but if you want to eat with us, I might have a better idea."

"It's Sunday, and I already have Professor Snape's lesson plans to work off of, so I'm free."

Hermione touched her fingers to the bracelet on her wrist. "Harry?"

"Here"

"Remus is here. Do you want to meet for lunch in the ROR?"

"Sounds great. Meet you there in five."

Hermione looked back up at Remus and smiled. He looked curiously at her bracelet. "That's what you gave to Harry for Christmas, right? What enchantments did you use?" So Hermione launched into an explanation that took them all the way to the Room of Requirement door. Harry was already inside, sitting on a soft couch with a low table in front of it, already piled with food. Remus took the armchair across from him and Hermione sat close to Harry on the couch. He gave her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Remus. Good to see you."

"You too, Cub." Remus reached for a ham sandwich. He had missed Hogwarts food. "So, catch me up on the news you two. Besides fighting evil wizards and almost getting yourselves killed, what have you been up to?" The teens talked while they ate and filled Remus in on classes, friends, Hermione's potion, the DA, and their study group.

"We're meeting in about twenty minutes actually," said Hermione, glancing at her watch. "Harry, why don't we ask Remus to help with war preparation and the DA?"

"Why don't we?" asked Harry in return.

"We should."

"You're right." He turned back to an amused Remus and asked, "Professor Lupin, will you help out with training and the DA?"

"Absolutely. When and where?"

"We're only meeting for the afternoon today, because there aren't any tests or projects this week, but we're planning to make study sessions in the morning and training after lunch, so..." Hermione turned to Harry.

"About 1:00 on Sundays then, and the DA usually meets on Friday night from 5:30 till 8:00. We always meet here, ever since we tried meeting in an empty classroom and ended up covered in popcorn." Harry finished.

"I'll change the room," Hermione said, closing her eyes and picturing the study group's usual haunt, complete with bookshelves, cushions for practicing defense, a small potions lab set-up in one corner, and many armchairs. Soon enough, their friends began to arrive.

"Hey mate. You gonna explain why we're here?" asked Ron, who was followed in by Pat and Ginny. Hermione had forgotten that they, and Luna, were new members of the study group.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Once everyone is here." Draco and Blaise showed up next, closely followed by the Patil twins, Hannah, and Luna. Neville ran in last, slightly out of breath, with dirt on his hands and clothes.

"Sorry, just realized the time. Was down in the greenhouses," he panted. He smiled at Hermione gratefully when she cleaned him up with a wave of her wand.

"You're welcome. Okay, well, we're all here because we know we'll be in the thick of the war that's begun around us, and we want to be prepared." Hermione stopped. This isn't DA. You aren't running this show. "It was Hannah and Padma's idea though, so I'll let them explain."

"Okay, so, we all know we're getting better at defending ourselves in DA, but we don't think that's enough. We should be finding potions and plants, and protective charms, and runes, anything to help us win, and keep everyone safe," Padma finished with a determined glint in her eye.

"We're open to any suggestions as well," put in Hannah, "and I think that we should look into more advanced offensive spells as well."

"We could come up with some new spells," Ron said, "You, know, element of surprise and all."

"That's a fabulous idea Ronald," said Luna. Ron's ears turned beet red. "I can help with a lot of the charms work."

"Hermione, Parvati, and I can research potions, if you two have no objections," offered Draco, nodding to the girls.

"What, Draco, knowingly inflicting yourself with two Gryffindors?" teased Harry. He put on a mock thoughtful expression. "Okay, well, Neville, hmm, I can't imagine what you'd want to work on..." Everyone laughed, including Neville.

"Anyone want to work on the Herbology aspect with me?" he asked.

"Padma's really good at that," mentioned Parvati. Padma, who had hoped to work with Blaise, sighed, realizing that she would probably be the most useful down in the greenhouses.

"Ron, you're the master strategist, right?" asked Pat. When Ron stammered something incoherent, the rest of the Gryffindors chimed in with the affirmative. "Okay, why don't you and I research spell creation. I'm probably the most advanced in arithmancy, and you can come up with the ideas, since I don't have a creative bone in my body." Ron nodded his agreement.

"I'll work with Luna on charming and enchanting objects," volunteered Ginny.

"Okay, so Blaise, you and me on researching runes?" asked Harry. "It's not my forte really, but I'm decent."

"Luckily Potter, runes are my forte." Blaise smirked. Remus, who had been watching the friends interact, stepped forward.

"It seems you have this mostly covered, but I would like to offer my assistance. If any of you need a pass to the restricted system, I can write it. I'll be here as an additional resource, and at some point, when you need supplies from outside of Hogwarts, I can procure them for you. I have a new house in Hogsmeade village, so going back and forth is no trouble at all,"Remus offered. "And might I suggest that, while you have a good idea of breaking into groups based on strengths, you really should keep communication open, because you may find that your talents merge. Try to spend the last hour of your meetings going over findings and discussing new ideas as a group."

"That sounds like good advice. And thank you Professor!" said Hannah. "So, is everyone okay with meeting here after lunch, working till, say 5:00, then sharing results and heading to dinner?"

"And don't forget, study group meets in the morning, about 9:30. Would any of the newbies like to join?" asked Parvati.

"Luna and I are a year behind, so we'll skip," said Ginny.

"Besides, when else would we brainstorm pranks?" asked Luna dreamily. The faces around the room were all shocked, except for Blaise, who had already known this bit of news.

"So... the hair thing... that was you?!" asked Neville incredulously.

"Well, and the Creevey boys," admitted Ginny. Everyone began to laugh, and Remus solemnly shook Luna's, then Ginny's hands, setting off more laughter.

"Moving on... I don't think I'll ever make it out of bed that early on a Sunday, guys. Besides, I'm in hardly any of the same classes," Ron backed out gracefully.

"And I'm in seventh year. It just wouldn't make sense, and I usually meet with my own group sometime during the week anyway. Thanks though," said Pat. Everyone said their goodbyes, and filed out, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Remus.

"You two are welcome at the new place any time by the way," said Remus. He handed Hermione a scrap of paper with the address, which she read and handed to Harry. "It's under the fidelius, so burn that paper." Harry finished reading it and set fire to it with his wand.

"We'll come visit next Hogsmeade weekend," promised Harry.

"Good," Remus replied. "Have you given any thought to your own inheritance?"

"Inheritance?" asked Hermione. Harry looked sheepish.

"I kinda forgot about it..."

"Harry, how do you forget about something like that?" Remus asked.

"Well, life's been busy, Remus, and I had other things on my mind," defended Harry.

"Did Sirius leave you Grimmauld Place Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," he replied. Remus cleared his throat. "And um, 2 billion galleons..."

Hermione stared at him, gaping. Remus laughed. "That's about how Harry looked when I told him."

Moday- visiting Snape, occlumency

Monday after classes, Harry was bored. He had finished all his homework, and with Snape in the Hospital wing, he had no Occlumency lessons, and Hermione was working on an essay for Potions. So he picked up the Occlumency book Snape had given him, and finished the half that he hadn't yet read. And then spent an hour meditating and building up his defences. He took great pleasure adding grindylows to his underwater mindscape, to protect the seaweed-covered trunk of memories. He added a steel lock to the trunk in his mind, and then put it inside a larger trunk, covering it with innocuous memories, that might seem important to an outsider: the kiss with Cho, fighting with Ron, Snape yelling at him in class... Then he closed the lid of that trunk and put another lock on it. He added a bit more seaweed around it, and withdrew from his meditative state. It's still only 5:00!

Harry got up and stretched, deciding on a walk. Half an hour later, his feet had carried him to the Hospital Wing. Sighing, he pushed open the door. He wasn't worried about how Snape was doing, he was simply curious. The man was sitting up in bed, reading some Potions journal or another, and apparently hadn't noticed his visitor.

"What do you want, Potter?" Or not. Snape lowered the journal slightly, and Harry decided to throw caution to the wind, and took a seat near the professor's bed.

"How're you feeling sir?" Harry asked.

"Up until a moment ago, just fine. I seem to have developed a headache, however." He glared at Harry, and the boy laughed.

"Sorry sir. Just wanted to check in. I finished that book you loaned to me. Do you want it back now, or when you get out of here?" Harry asked. Snape stared at him for a long moment.

"You may keep the book, Mr. Potter." Now it was Harry's turn to stare.

"Thank you sir." Silence reigned for a long moment. "Can I get you anything sir?"

"Besides a bottle of Odgen's finest, no, Potter, I believe I have everything I need."

"Alright sir. Um, I guess I'll be going then. Goodbye!" Harry turned and left the Hospital wing.

"Goodbye, Mr. Potter," muttered Severus softly.

"Hello Severus!" called Lupin as he entered. Potter yesterday, Lupin today. Will wonders never cease?

"Lupin," Severus nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"I come bearing gifts, from Harry and his friends. I had to buy some of it for them, so I get to deliver it." Lupin held up a brown gift bag, and handed it to Severus. Inside was... a stack of books? He raised an eyebrow at Lupin. "Oh, sorry. Tap the bag with a finger and say 'Silly Slytherins' and you'll see what's in it. I believe Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley charmed it so that nobody could see inside. Glowering, Severus tapped the bag and muttered the password.

Inside was a bottle of Odgen's firewhiskey, two glasses, the newest edition of the Potions Journal, a vial of a potion he didn't recognize, and two bars of dark chocolate. The Odgen's was from Harry, bought by Lupin, the glasses from Neville and Hannah, the journal from Hermione, the potion a concoction to disguise the smell of alcohol on one's breath, courtesy of Blaise and Draco, and the chocolate from the Patil twins, Lupin explained. "To disguise the bag again, tap it and say 'Idiot Gryffindors.' Don't ask me, I didn't choose the passwords."

"Idiot Gryffindors," Severus said. He wasn't sure what to say. Nobody had ever gotten him gifts while he was in the Hospital Wing before.

"Well, I've got to go Severus. Enjoy, and get better," Lupin said, turning to leave.

"Lupin," Snape said. the werewolf turned. "I... I made your wolfsbane in advance. It's in my office. The password is 'belladonna'. And tell Potter and his friends..."

"I'll tell them you send your thanks, Severus. Bye!" And Lupin ducked out the door. At least he didn't make me say it.