Harry sat cross-legged on the floor in the center of Snape's office, eyes closed, concentrating carefully on what he wanted. They'd worked on this sort of thing some in his wandless magic lessons with Snape – picturing what he wanted as a way of getting it, without touching anything or even concentrating on any one thing specifically. It was a quick-and-dirty way of getting a generalized, simple result – changing an entire wall a different color, for example, or moving an object. Rather than picturing the process required to change something, he just used his will and let his magic sort of figure it out. In the lesson, he'd pictured a piece of furniture in a different location, and, rather than moving it through the air as he'd expected, he'd ended up apparating it. This time, he looked around the room, then pictured everything in the whole office lavender. When he opened his eyes, he smiled to see he'd been successful – everything that he could see was the same, somewhat horrible shade of pink. A discrete throat-clearing sent his head whipping around him. And there, dresses in his normal matte black robes, a slight smirk on his face, was Severus Snape. Harry sprung up to a stand.

“I-you-how?”

“How did I know you were here, or how did I get in here without you noticing?”

Heart pounding in his chest, Harry just nodded.

“I silenced the door before opening it, and I have an alarm, obviously.”

“But you didn't before-”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Harry's mouth fell open. Oh.

Severus held back a smile. Of course he would come back to find Harry painting his office. Why would he ever have expected anything else? There was one thing he really had to deal with, though. “Come here.”

Harry looked at him anxiously, and Severus just repeated his request. “Come here.”

Harry approached him reluctantly, and when he was close enough Severus turned him by the shoulders to face the room. “Now what is wrong with this picture?”

Harry blushed. “Oops.”

“Indeed. Now, what did you do wrong?”

Harry bit his lip. “W-well all the pink is out from me. I guess I just pictured one side of things?”

“Likely. Which side?”

“The side towards me.”

“So to fix it?”

“Maybe if I picture the pink coming from the walls?”

“Good. Go try it.”

Harry turned part way to give Snape a somewhat incredulous look. He wanted him to finish the job? Snape just raised an eyebrow as if to ask, well? What are you waiting for?

And so Harry returned to his spot on the floor and tried again. This time when he opened his eyes he looked at Snape and burst out laughing. “Umm...woops?”

Snape gave him a sour look. “Was that – entirely – necessary, Mr. Potter?”

“Well...you were in the room...and my goal was to turn everything in the room pink...”

“I never could have guessed. Fix it, please.”

“Why? Pink is all the rage right now. And it's not like I really turned you pink, just your robes...”

“Harry.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez. You're no fun.”

“Since when is the Greasy Git of the Dungeons supposed to be fun, Harry?”

Harry opened his mouth, but Snape interrupted before he could say anything. “Don't answer that question. Just fix it, please.”

Harry scowled, but turned Snape's robes back to black.

“And now the rest of the room.”

Harry scowled further, but obliged. “Good?”

“Acceptable. Now come. We're supposed to be in the Room of Requirement.”

When the two were settled into the couches in the Room of Requirement, Harry sat and stared at his hands, suddenly not feeling like talking. After about thirty seconds of silence, Snape asked,

“So why are you angry with me?”

Harry just kept staring at his hands, and finally mumbled, “'M not.”

“Perhaps not right now, but you were.”

“Whatever.”

“Answer me, please.”

Harry scowled, suddenly remembering some of the anger that had driven him to attack Snape's office. “I don't like Dumbledore.”

Snape sighed. “I know you don't.”

Harry bit his lip, the gentle response just making him feel even more upset. “Then why'd you leave me with him?”

“Harry,” Snape said, voice soft, “Dumbledore will not harm you-”

“I don't care!” Harry interrupted, voice rising as the burning in his eyes made him even angrier. I am not. fucking. crying.

“If you don't care, then why are you shouting at me?”

Harry just looked away. Why am I so upset about this? So I spent some time in the Gryffindor tower. I do that all the time.

“Harry, I didn't have a choice. I hadn't taken time off in a long time, and the headmaster demanded it. Somebody had to replace me. It was going to be either Professor Dumbledore or Sinestra, and you don't like Sinestra, either.”

“Sinestra'd've been better,” Harry mumbled resentfully.

“I disagree. You may dislike Professor Dumbledore, but he would have at least been fair to you. I could not trust that Professor Sinestra would be.”

“I don't care about fair!”

“I will not put that woman in authority over you, Harry.”

“So you chose Dumbledore? Are you crazy?”

“You were fine.”

“But what if I got in trouble?” Harry burst out, tears stinging in his eyes. “You wouldn't even be here to- to-” Harry swallowed. He couldn't say it. What happened to protecting yourself, huh? Now you expect Snape to just hang out? For you? Really?

“If I didn't know better,” Snape said mildly, “I'd say you missed me.”

That was it. The limit. Harry gave Snape one furious look before heading up the wall towards his alcove.

“Stop, Harry.”

Harry ignored him and continued to climb.

“Harry James Potter you will get down here right now.”

Harry paused, keeping his face towards the wall so that Snape wouldn't see the tears stinging his eyes. Leave me alone.

“Come down, please, Harry.”

Oh, now you ask nicely. Still, Harry started climbing down. Having Snape mad at him would be awful, somehow. When he got to the bottom, he turned but kept his gaze turned towards the floor, hoping Snape wouldn't see his upset. He finally looked up, though, when the man came right in front of him to put his hands on both of Harry's shoulders. And now he's being all nice again. Snape was nice to him a lot lately. And somehow the nice-touching got to him every time.

“I apologize, Harry. Had I known it would bother you this much, I would not have left. And I should not have made light of your feelings. Okay?”

Harry looked down again, and whispered, “okay.”

One of the hands on his shoulders moved to the back of his head, and Harry knew the man was pleased. And why? I'm not being nice. Harry gripped his lower lip in his teeth, unsure.

“'M sorry I yelled at you,” he finally said.

“This is your space, Harry. I would prefer that you talk to me, rather than yell, but I also much prefer your yelling to your silence.”

“I don't like talking,” Harry said.

“I know.”

“Do we have to talk today?”

“It is Monday,” Snape reminded him.

“I know. I just – do we have to talk today?”

“I will not force you.”

Harry bit his lip again. That was not the answer he wanted. A simple 'no' would make it okay not to talk, but the way Snape answered- I will not force you. In other words, he wants me to. And somehow his being nice made Harry not want to say 'no'.

And so, instead of saying no, Harry dawdled, pulling away from Snape to return to the couches, then curling up comfortably, then starting to fiddle as Snape sat down, too. Too late, Harry noticed that the envelope of photos had been left in the same place since last week, and so now lay on the short table between the two couches. Harry looked at it, and up at Snape, but Snape didn't say anything, and finally Harry looked down to study his fingernails, deciding to ignore Snape and the envelope entirely. If Snape wanted him to talk, then he could say something. In the meantime, Harry would be quite content just sitting.

He couldn't help but watch from under his lashes, though, when Snape leaned forward and picked up the envelope and started to leaf through it. Why can't he just leave it alone? Harry wondered. I told him I don't want them. As Harry watched, the man picked out a single photo, and put the envelope and the photo back on the table. Harry bit his lip.

“I told you I don't want them.”

“I know.”

“You just don't care.”

“I do care. If I didn't care I wouldn't push the issue.”

“Fine, so you care, and what I want doesn't matter.”

“There are things that are more important than what you want.”

“To you, certainly.”

“Yes, to me. We have been through this. This is important to me, because I believe that it would be good for you to see them. I would not ask it, otherwise.”

And why should that matter to me? He did not want to look at the photos. God damnit, why does it matter so much to me that he wants this? I don't, that's all that should matter! It's none of his business anyway! And it was like the man knew that it bothered Harry, like he thought that telling Harry it was important would matter. And the worst thing was, the man was right! For some reason it did matter that Snape wanted him to do it, whether he would force him or not. Confused, and feeling suddenly belligerent, Harry asked bluntly,

“What do I care if it's important to you?”

To Harry's startlement and confusion, Snape's face tightened briefly. He'd hurt him. “Perhaps you don't,” he acknowledged neutrally. “Perhaps I simply wish that you would.”

Harry watched Snape's face, not understanding. Well what am I supposed to say? I've told him over and over that I don't like him. Just 'cause he's been nice...I don't like him. Still, he really hadn't meant to put that look on the man's face. I hurt him? I can hurt him? He hadn't even done it on purpose. Hadn't even known it was possible. Harry looked down. “I didn't mean that.”

Snape's face relaxed a bit, but his voice held a touch of frost when he spoke. “Perhaps you should not say what you do not mean.”

Harry looked down. “I'm sorry. I just really don't want them.” And so I said that? He hadn't been that way in a long time. And he really hadn't meant it, this time. What the hell is happening to me? If I really didn't mean it, when I said I didn't care...did I just tell him that I do? Shit!

“And this is an excuse to strike out to hurt someone?” The question was asked mildly, but this time it was Harry who winced. It was like when he'd hit Blaise – it would've been okay, if only Blaise had hit back. And Snape, he knew, never would.

“I- I didn't mean to. I- I'm just confused,” Harry said miserably.

“Explain.”

Harry bit his lip. The last time Snape had asked him to 'explain,' he'd refused, and felt like a coward. This time – Damnit. He had to, now.

“I- you - I just really didn't want to look at them, but then you want me to and you say you won't force me but for some reason I feel like I gotta anyway and why should that be? Why should I care what you want me to do if you're not gonna force me? And if you want me to, why don't you just force me? I just don't get it!” Harry finally exclaimed, frustrated.

“Is it so terrible, that I do not abuse you?” Snape asked neutrally.

I hate that word. “That's not what I'm talking about. I'm just saying you're different, okay? I just don't know what to do with you, and so I get confused.”

“I see.”

“Can we be done now?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“Please?”

“One photo.”

“No.”

“Please.”

Harry glowered at him, knowing what he was saying. In a negotiation between two Slytherins, everything was tit-for-tat. Snape wanted something from Harry, Harry wanted something from Snape. The question was, was the permission to leave worth looking at the photo? No.

“Not worth it.” And I don't mean that I want a counter offer. I'm not looking at the stupid photo.

“What would be?”

“Nothing,” Harry said stubbornly. “Nothing would make me look at that photo right now. Now will you leave it alone?” See. I can still say no. You gonna force me, now?

“Why are you so resistant to this?”

“I just don't want to.”

Snape looked at him for a moment, before putting the photo he'd laid out back on top of the pile of photos in the envelope, and extending the whole envelope to Harry. Harry looked at it warily before taking it.

“I said I don't want to.”

“Exactly. I won't make you. I just want you to take them with you so you can look at them in your own time. Okay?”

That he could do. Not that I'm ever gonna look at them. “Okay.”

I am so sick of that. “I'm not a rat.”

“What?”

You heard me. Harry gritted his teeth and tried to stay polite. He really didn't want trouble, not three days after Snape had gotten back. “I said, I'm not a rat, and I'll thank you not to call me one. Please.”

“I'll call you however I like, rat.”

See, Snape? Polite isn't worth a damn. “I'm not a rat, I'm a boy. Just like you're not a bitch, you're a woman.” This time he was louder, and the students around started to take notice of yet another argument between Harry and Professor Sinestra.

“Excuse me?”

“What, you're not bright enough to understand it the first time? You call me a rat, then I can call you a bitch. It's only fair.” Even if it is gonna get me in trouble...again. Snape would probably give him a detention, this time. He acknowledged that Sinestra was a bitch, but he was convinced that Harry could learn to work with the woman. Yeah, right.

“I am your professor.”

“Fine, Professor Bitch...oh wait, sorry. I apologize for my language. I meant harpy.”

“Get out of my class.”

“With pleasure.” Maybe I can get out of this without serious trouble. Harry started packing up his things, determined not to argue further. Snape can't hardly blame me, can he? I mean, he did say he wants me to fight back when I need to, right? Apparently kicking him out wasn't satisfying enough for Sinestra, though, because a moment later she said, “No. I changed my mind. Stay until the end of class.”

She is going to drag me down to Snape, then. Fantastic. Bitch.

And so Harry sat silently for the last ten minutes of class, waiting for Sinestra to escort him. Like I'm three and won't go where she says...come to think of it, smart woman. He might obey Snape or McGonagall without supervision, but Sinestra? Probably not. I'd get it from Snape later, though. Jerk.

And here Sinestra was, ready to drag him down to Snape. You'd think detention was an after school activity.

When the class all left, though, and Sinestra started leading him, they started off in the wrong direction from the dungeons, and Harry started getting nervous.

“Umm...where are we going?”

“You think I'm stupid enough to take you to Professor Snape after last time? I don't think so. Snape might not care how you act, but Dumbledore will not be so biased.”

Harry stopped dead. “No.”

“What?”

Harry fought to keep his voice calm. “I said no. I'm not going. Take me to Snape.”

“So that you can squirrel out of trouble again? Try again.”

She walked forward again, but Harry didn't follow, and after a couple of strides she looked back.

“What is wrong with you? Come on!”

Again, Harry fought to stay calm, but felt his adrenaline start to kick in. Relax, you're fine. “I said no.”

Sinestra walked back until she stood right in front of him, hissing, “You don't have a choice.”

Calm, calm, calm. Not scared. “The hell I don't. I might get in even more trouble for it, but you are not taking me to Dumbledore.”

“Yes, I am.”

Harry felt his heart-rate and breathing pick up as the adrenaline continued coursing through his system.

“No, you're not.”

“Come with me now.”

“Make me.”

Sinestra's face darkened. “Very well, I will.” With that, the Professor grabbed Harry's upper arm and started pulling him towards Dumbledore's office. Harry dug in his heels. “Let me go.”

“Then come!”

“I won't!”

“You will if I say you will, you little rat!” Sinestra pulled harder, Harry resisted harder, the grip on his arm became painful, and everything changed. Suddenly it was Petunia and she was going to hand him over to Vernon and he had to get her to let go. Harry started thrashing wildly, putting everything he had into getting Petunia to let go of his arm. “Let me go! Bitch! Let me go I won't go you can't make me! Let me go!” Oh please oh please oh please by whatever is holy you've gotta let me go. Please let me go. And suddenly Petunia let out a gasp and let go as she had once before and shit he'd used freaky stuff and he knew it wouldn't matter in the end but he RAN.

Safe, safe, safe need safe. Where was his cupboard? Where could he go? Safe. Need safe. And he wasn't quite sure where he was going but the floor led him downwards and he turned left, then right, and then there was a familiar door and that was where he needed to be to be safe. And so he opened the door and ran in and no it was too big but there was a little alcove on the other side of the room and so he ducked under the desk. Once there, safe for the moment, he just wrapped his arms around his knees and held on tight and breathed, feeling tears stream down his face as he waited for someone to come and force him out again.

Severus was messing around with a potion in the lab in his quarters when a tightening in the band around his ankle let him know that someone had broken into his office. His first thought, as he carefully put his potion into stasis and took it off the heat, then walked up to the shallower part of the dungeons, was that it had to be Harry. He was the only student who had even tried it in several years. But no, Harry usually had some reason behind his attacks on Severus, and he hadn't even seen the boy that day. And it was the middle of the afternoon – a pretty poor time to be attacking him at any rate. Who else would break into his office, though? None of the other Slytherins were either brave or stupid enough to do it. Probably some Gryffindor, then.

And so, when Severus got to his office door, he silenced it before opening it and walking in. Fully expecting to startle some foolhardy third-year out of a year's growth, he was surprised to find his office seemingly empty. Whoever it was had either already left, or was already hiding. This was strange, since if they'd left so quickly, having accomplished some goal, then there should be something in the office out of place. They couldn't have pranked something, then put things back into order, in such a short time. But how had they known to hide? Severus's alarm was silent. That was the point. And he'd silenced the door. Whoever it was probably didn't even know Severus was there. Someone is hiding in my office. Someone is – oh.

Getting a sudden idea, Severus took the silencing spell, ensuring that the door creaked as he closed it, then walked slowly around the desk. Sure enough, as he got to the back of his desk, he could hear slightly rapid breathing coming from underneath it. Shit.

And so he moved the chair out of the way, and crouched down to find Harry curled up under his desk, tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Harry,” he breathed. “What happened?”

The boy was shaking and holding himself tight, wedged as far into the tiny space as he could get, but at the sound of Severus' voice he tried to shrink away. Well that didn't help. Suddenly getting an idea, Severus walked back around his desk and called a house-elf.

“Two glasses of water and a tray of biscuits, please.”

When the house-elf returned with the food, Severus walked back around his desk, noting as he did so that though Harry didn't respond to his voice, his eyes tracked him, and his trembling was already a little less violent. Leaving one of the glasses of water and the tray of biscuits on top of the desk, for now, Severus took the other and dipped a hand in it before gently flicking the water at Harry's face. Harry flinched, but then looked at him. Encouraged, Severus did it again, letting droplets fly at Harry's face.

“Come back, Harry. Wherever you are, come back. You feel the water. That's real, that's here. Come on back.”

Finally, Harry lifted a hand to block the water from reaching his face, and Severus paused in his flicking.

“Harry, talk to me. Who am I?”

Harry lowered the hand to look at him, then shook his head a little. Severus smiled a bit, and dipped his hand back in the water, ready to flick again. Harry ducked his head, finally letting out a slightly whiny-sounding,

“Stop!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop with the water!”

“Well, who am I?”

Harry was still shaking, but answered, “You're a jerkoff.”

Severus smiled. “Well that's part of my personality, certainly. I'd prefer a name, though.”

To Severus' surprise, Harry returned the smile just a little. “Greasy Git.”

There we go. “I prefer Professor Snape, but close enough for government work. And where are you?”

Harry blushed. “In your office.”

“More generally?”

“At Hogwarts.”

“Good. Now, what are you doing under my desk?”

“Playing fort.”

“In my office.”

“W-Well I did say before that you had a better fort then I did.” Harry said, voice still a little shaky.

“You did say that, didn't you? The couch would be more comfortable, however.”

Harry bit his lip and shook his head.

“No?”

“I'm fine here.”

“You have to come out eventually, Harry.”

“But not now,” Harry retorted.

“Harry-”

“Please?”

Severus sighed. There was Harry, trembling under his desk, and asking to be allowed to stay there. Maybe it would be best to just give him time, Severus thought. He certainly couldn't force him out.

“Very well.”

Harry's whole posture seemed to relax, and Severus knew he'd made the right decision. The boy might talk relatively calmly, but he was also a master at faking it. Better to just let him come out on his own time. At that moment, though, the floo flared, and Severus stood up and looked over to see the headmaster's head poking out of the flames. Under the desk, Harry could not see him, but Severus noticed the boy shrink back when the man spoke.

“Severus? I need you in my office, please.”

“Now is not a good time, Headmaster.”

“Whatever it is will have to wait, Severus. It regards Harry, and it is possibly quite urgent.”

“I agree that it is urgent. It is imperative that I be in my office right now.”

Finally the man seemed to get it. “He is with you?”

“He is.”

“Very well, then, Severus. I suppose it can wait. Do try and get here, will you?”

“That all depends on Harry. Now leave, please.”

Albus frowned at him, but his head disappeared from the floo.

Since he was standing anyway, Severus took the opportunity to grab the plate of biscuits and the glass of water from his desk, then squatted in front of the alcove under his desk to offer both to Harry. The boy had once again pressed back further under the desk, but he reached a hand out to take the water when Severus offered it.

“No biscuits?”

Harry shook his head, and Severus returned to his place sitting against the wall of his office, drinking his own glass of water now that it was no longer needed for other purposes.

Harry held his water in both hands, sipping it occasionally and watching Snape over it. The water helped, he found. It gave him something to do with his hands, if nothing else. If he held onto the glass, his hands wouldn't shake. His breathing was calming, but only because he was still in the alcove, where he could pretend nobody could get him. Suddenly Harry got an image of himself, and flushed with embarrassment. He was hiding under a desk like a three year old, and Snape probably wouldn't leave until he came out. But he couldn't come out. Not yet. But Snape doesn't have to hang here the whole time.

“You can go, if you want,” Harry said softly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to go?”

Harry frowned, then shrugged. “I'll be alright.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Harry shrugged again. “Go.”

“You are certain?”

Harry lifted his chin in mock-defiance, and Snape shook his head. “Very well. Please don't leave before I've had a chance to talk to you, though. I'll try and make this quick.”

“You wished to see me, Headmaster?” Severus asked formally.

“THERE you are!” exclaimed Aurora from her spot in front of the headmaster's desk. “Well it took you long enough! Where is he?”

Severus regarded his colleague coldly. “I assure you, Madame, that I haven't the foggiest idea of whom you are talking about.”

“Your rat, Severus! Where is he?”

Severus flexed his fists unobtrusively, but answered politely. “I assume that you mean Harry? Is he in trouble of some sort?”

“I should say so! The little brat hexed me!”

“Did he?” Good for him. Hopefully Aurora was exaggerating, though. If Harry had, indeed, hexed her, he'd be at least suspended, regardless of what else happened. The school had a sort of 'no tolerance' policy when it came to students hexing professors. “And your evidence?”

Aurora held up her two hands, showing angry-looking bright red skin on her palms and fingers.

Severus sneered, anger far from abating as he got a preliminary picture of what might have happened. “He hexed your palms?”

“I was simply trying to escort him to the Headmaster's office after he cursed at me during class, and he- he burned me!”

Severus heard his own voice get even colder. “Escorted, how?”

“That- that doesn't matter!” The harpy screeched. “The little rat burned me!”

Severus flexed his hands again, then took a deep breath at Albus' soft warning, “Severus.” Albus would deal with it. He just had to not throttle the other professor in the meantime.

“You manhandled him.”

“I didn't hurt him, Severus! And he hexed me! He deserves to be expelled, and you're angry because I touched him? That's exactly why I didn't bring him to you, Severus! I knew you'd side with him! WHERE IS HE? I know you know! You might protect him, but the headmaster will be fair. I know you know where he is, Severus, now give him up!”

“As it happens, woman, I do know where he is. But no, I do not believe I will 'give him up' as you say.”

“I knew it! Headmaster, I told you! I know you tolerate his partiality some of the time, but this is the limit! That boy gets away with murder, and it's because of him!”

“Perhaps,” said the headmaster mildly. “Please, Severus. Where is the boy?”

Severus smiled inwardly, his anger calming a bit. Indeed, the headmaster would be fair. “Currently, Harry is underneath my desk.”

“What's he doing there?” exclaimed Aurora.

“I, too, would like to know, Severus,” prompted the headmaster.

“I am not entirely certain, Headmaster,” Severus said respectfully. “I have the door to my office alarmed, because I'd rather students not enter without my knowledge, so I returned immediately upon receiving the alert, to find the boy under my desk. I asked him what he was doing there, and he responded that he was 'playing fort'.”

“In your office?” Aurora asked incredulously.

“Dear colleague,” Severus said sarcastically, “if not that, than what would you guess would be Harry's reason to be under my desk immediately after his little confrontation with you?”

Aurora seemed to deflate, but finally protested, “b-but he- he burned me, Severus.”

Severus clenched his teeth. How stupid could the woman possibly be? “Please, madame, out of pure curiosity, what is the definition of accidental magic?”

“He's – he's eleven. Eleven-year-olds have more control than that. They don't do accidental magic, Severus, except-”

“Except in cases of extreme emotion, especially fear,” Severus finished, attempting to keep his voice mild.

Aurora's voice shook a little as she protested again. “B-but, but I- but he's obnoxious, Severus! He's sarcastic and disrespectful. He cursed at me! And I wasn't going to hurt him, I just wanted to take him to Dumbledore!”

“I imagine he refused?” Severus asked, trying to keep a hold of his temper.

“Of course he did! The boy never cooperates with me! Never! He's such- such a-”

“A brat? A difficult child? A delinquent, maybe?”

“YES!”

“And this makes it appropriate for you to manhandle him and frighten him so badly that he runs to hide under my desk? Are you insane, or just stupid? And then you come here and you want me to 'hand him over' to you and the headmaster because he 'hexed' you?”

“Severus, I didn't know!”

And Severus' temper snapped. “Exactly, you imbecile! You didn't know. You didn't know and so you manhandled a student instead of taking the time to find out why he wouldn't go with you. Because after all, he was just a rat, who cares how you bloody treat him? And you call me biased. Well, yes, in fact, I am biased. I am biased, and touch my boy again and it'll be the last thing you ever do, you understand? Or are you such a cretin that even that cannot penetrate your miniscule cerebrum?”

“Severus.”

The gentle command brought Severus up short, and he took a deep breath. “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Thank you.”

Aurora Sinestra was, for once, silent, and Severus could not resist one parting shot. “If you will excuse me, Headmaster, I have to go encourage a terrified – rat – out from under my desk.”

Aurora winced, and the headmaster gave him a cautioning look. Severus just nodded to both of them, and left through the floo.

“Headmaster,” Aurora said softly, looking stricken, “I truly didn't-”

“I am aware of that, Professor Sinestra. However, I believe it would be prudent of me to suggest you be more careful with the boy in the future?”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“Good, then,” said the Headmaster, “then it would be useless for you to know that if you do not, I will have to find myself a new Astronomy professor.”

“I- I believe Severus already made that clear, Headmaster, but I'll take your warning as well.”

“Good then,” said the Headmaster, relaxing back in his chair. “Would you care for a sherbet lemon?”