While Harry was at said practices, trying to fly through impossibly soggy conditions, Ron and Hermione were spending hours in the library, much to Ron's consternation. It had become their routine to spend their free time there plotting and planning, and waiting for Harry to get done with practice so he could go over their plans as well. Christmas may have passed by in a pleasant array of colors, sweets, and presents, but the fact that they now knew what Fluffy was guarding was not forgotten.

It was on an particularly cold Saturday afternoon that Severus observed his newly adopted son trudging up through the castle towards the library in sopping wet clothes, hair and mud plastered to his face.

"Might I enquire as to why you feel the need to tramp mud all the way up through the castle and into the Library?"

Harry paused halfway up the steps to the library and turned to find his father. "I was going to meet Ron and Hermione there."

"And you could not wait until you showered and changed into dry clothing?"

He shrugged as he looked down and noticed that he was fairly muddy. He'd been hit by a Bludger and thrown off his broom and into the mud a few times. The rain made it hard to see what was coming at him. And truth be told, after hours out in the rain, he had gotten used to his clothes clinging to him and had been too eager to hear what Ron and Hermione had worked on today. So far they had worked out a fairly spectacular plan, and now it was just the execution they had to worry about.

"Change into dry clothes at the very least," Severus said, and then turned to go in the direction he had originally been heading.

Harry went back down the stairs and around to the other side of the castle where Gryffindor tower was, and hurried through a wonderfully warm shower and into some warm clothes before he ran out the portrait hole again and to the library. He found Ron and Hermione bent over a piece of parchment in the very back corner near the restricted section.

"Hey, any luck on what's under Fluffy?" Harry asked quietly, eyes casting about for anyone who may be eavesdropping.

Ron nodded and gave a grin. "I hid outside the staff lounge all morning until Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout came out and they were saying something about Devil's Snare, so I followed them.

"They didn't see?" Harry asked, and Ron shook his head. "Fred and George gave me this great spell to muffle the sound of my shoes, and I hid behind statues and banisters and the like."

"What else?"

"Well Professor McGonagall said something about a potion and Professor Sprout mentioned Quidditch, but I'm not sure either have to do with the stone."

Hermione held up her finger then and said, "I followed Professor Flitwick around all day and it's the strangest thing. He was collecting keys. I think that all of the professors must have contributed something to the protection of the stone." She and Ron glanced at each other then, and then to Harry.

"What?"

"Well, we thought you could ask... you know, your dad," Ron said suddenly. "You know, about the potion."

"How am I supposed to do that? He'll want to know why I asked and then he'll know what we're up to!"

Ron scoffed. "Right, like he'll suddenly figure out we've planned to steal it and then hide it someplace far away from Hogwarts."

"He does read minds," Harry said, and then sat back with his arms crossed. As it was he knew he was putting his new relationship with his father in jeopardy by becoming a thief and then running away from Hogwarts with said stolen item. He half hoped he could just pretend he'd had nothing to do with it at all after all was said and done. In his free time he thought about the excuses he'd tell his father just so that the man wouldn't throw him out or disown him. ‘Honestly,' he'd say, ‘I was attacked and I just woke up a few minutes ago out behind the green houses...' He didn't suppose he had a hope of it working, but he could pretend for the time being that it would. He knew as well as Ron and Hermione that the stone could not fall into the wrong hands or else Harry was done for.

"Will you at least try Harry?" Hermione was talking to him now, bringing him out of his daydream.

"Yes," Harry said, sounding defeated. It was his neck they were risking theirs for after all, he reminded himself. The least he could do was try to pry some information out of his father. My father, he thought then, as was his new habit. I finally have a father.

* * *

"HELP!"

Harry clawed at the stone floor, trying to keep himself from being dragged away towards the stairs he was sure his invisible attacker was prepared to throw him down. Whoever, or whatever it was had hold of him by the foot, and despite Harry's attempts to stay put, he was being dragged unceremoniously away.

"PLEASE!" He screamed, and then in his head he screamed for his father to find him in time.

When no one came, and Harry knew he was nearing the steps, he changed tactics.

"I hate you, you rotten piece of scum!" He shouted up at the invisible person. "You're a coward and worthless and good for nothing and-" he was given a good kick in the stomach to shut him up, but he wasn't stopping, because for the time being at least the person wasn't dragging him along anymore.

"What's the matter!?" He screamed at it. "Scared of an eleven year old boy so you've got to try to murder me? If you were a man you'd show your face and give me my wand back!"

There was silence and Harry's foot dropped to the floor before his wand clattered to the floor out of thin air and rolled towards him. Well, that was something at least, he thought, slight panic rising in him that he really didn't know many defensive or dueling spells at this point.

His fingers slid along the stone pavers until they found his wand, and the second he lifted it with a spell on his tongue, the wand was blasted out of his hand again. Harry scrambled for it, but again it was blasted from his hand before he could finish the words of a hex or jinx.

Harry's eerily silent attacker seemed to be tired of the games now, because he had suddenly given Harry another good kick and had seized his foot again and begun dragging him towards the stairs. Harry let out a shout of surprise, but before he could be dragged any further, his father appeared from around a corner, looking in a word, pissed.

"Accio cloak!" he shouted, before he jumped out of the way of a nasty red hex. A brief duel ensued in which Harry had time to scramble out of the way, but only just enough to avoid several hexes that had been intentionally aimed his way.

With a last curse by Severus, they heard an ‘oomf' and then there was silence. Harry got to his feet and limped quickly behind his father.

"Is he gone?"

"Shh!"

Severus ran several detection spells and tried to summon the cloak once more, but was unable, and resorted to using his foot to kick through the air where he thought he'd incapacitated the invisible menace. He found nothing.

"I will take you to the Hospital Wing Potter," he said then. "The castle's defenses are failing. For some reason none of the other staff were notified that an attack was in progress."

Harry did not fail to notice that his father was not making any sense, but didn't say anything until they were in the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey was tending to his sprained ankle and other bruises.

"What did you mean the castle's defenses?"

"I was unsure if the attacker was still within hearing range. It must appear odd to whomever it is that I am always the one to appear to rescue you."

"Oh."

This was the third attack in the last two days. Yesterday it had happened twice, once on his way to his first class (which he was late for), and once when he'd gotten out of study hall early and was on his way back to the common room. Perhaps the attacker was a student and had gone home for the holidays, he thought, because there had been no attempts on his life over the break. Contrary to Ron's belief that the attacker was a professor, Harry was sure now that it couldn't be.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked Harry quietly when Madam Pomfrey had finished, and Harry looked up.

"Yeah," he said quietly. Well, it was sort of true anyhow. He hated feeling like he was unsafe everywhere he went. He never knew when he would be punched from thin air or dragged off, and he worried about his friends getting hurt if the attacker got bold and decided to attack when he was with them.

"I will escort you back to your common room then, where you will stay," Severus added in a stern voice. "As of now you are no longer allowed to go anywhere by yourself. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded, but knew that wouldn't stop whoever was doing this to him.

* * *

Hermione was screaming and Ron was turning in circles shooting spells off in the darkness.

Harry, fears come true, stood in the middle of the hallway just wanting it to stop. Perhaps there was more than one, because it appeared that the attacker was able to pull Hermione's hair and curse Ron from another direction at the same time.

"Come and get me then!" Harry shouted, angry and uncertain at the same time. "No reason to attack them!" Hermione fell to the ground then and Ron was shouting something at Harry, but Harry had been thrown to the ground at that moment and was being dragged down the hallway by the collar. God he hated it here.

Perhaps it was all the screaming Hermione had done, and Ron's cursing, but Professor Snape was not the only one to show up this time. As he came running down the hallway from one direction, Professor Flitwick appeared from the other and they both began shouting off hexes at whatever had just let go of Harry. Well, that ruled out two Professors anyway, Harry thought as he lay on the floor covering his head for fear he'd be hit by stray spells. Ron and Hermione were doing the same, though Hermione was still crying where she lay beside Professor Flitwick.

In a few moments the spells stopped, and there was dust in the air from where stones had been hit and blasted apart. There was silence aside from Hermione until Professor Snape moved forward and lifted Harry up from under the armpit, and then Ron. Professor Flitwick was helping Hermione, and Harry clenched his fists. Would this never stop?

The three were lead to the Hospital Wing, and thankfully none of them had been injured, but Harry's question was answered as his father lead him out, wand out and at the ready. They were not ten steps down the hall when Harry was beamed in the head by something that he was sure was a Beater's bat. As he lay on the ground, vision blurry, he could see his father in a physical struggle with thin air, and squinted to take note that a black dusty boot was visible, moving all by itself.

"Run," his father managed to get out through gritted teeth, and Harry did as he was told, worry flooding him at that moment that his new father would not survive. As he ran past the Hospital Wing however, Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall ran in the other direction towards the scuffle, and he knew all would be well... for everyone except him that was.

Harry continued to run up through the castle until he found himself in an unfamiliar place. He pushed open an unlocked door and then warded it closed as best he knew how. Breathing hard, he found himself in a dim and dusty attic full of old furniture, and curiously, a tall mirror right in the middle of a space cleared of dust.

Allowing the enclosed, quiet space to calm him some, Harry took a few steps forward until he could see his own reflection in the mirror. He could see that his face was dirty and his new jeans were ripped at the knee, but as he looked closely he noticed that something was wrong with the mirror. His reflection was smiling back at him, when he wasn't smiling at all.

Frowning, Harry took another step closer, as he did he wondered if the mirror showed some sort of alternate reality, because it didn't reflect the dusty attic at all, but instead a house furnished in browns with lots of sunlight streaming in through the windows, and in the background, a tall figure in a black shirt and slacks sat on a couch reading a book before turning to smile at him.

Harry turned to see if his father really was behind him, but found himself alone in the attic. Strange, but he looked so happy in the reflection. He looked safe.

"What is it you see my boy?"

Harry spun again to find Dumbledore, wearing a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes, and Harry was sure he was in fact quite sad.

"I don't understand it," Harry said, turning back to the mirror. "It's me, but I'm somewhere else. And I'm smiling."

"Is it so impossible for you to be happy?"

With a frown Harry thought that he really didn't know. Every time it seemed he could have a chance at being happy, something else happened to show him just how wrong he really was.

"Sort of hard to be happy when there's someone lurking behind every corner waiting for me," Harry said, studying the image in the mirror again. "Why does this mirror show things that aren't true?"

"It shows nothing more or less than our own deepest desires."

"Strange place to put it," Harry said then, "In an attic where no one can use it."

"People have wasted away staring into it. Tonight it is being moved to a new location. It would be best if you did not dwell on trying to find it again."

Harry gave one last look into the mirror then, and noticed that there were now two images of his father. One sitting behind his imaginary self, and one standing directly behind him looking very worn. He turned then and saw that he was really there, and wrapped his arms tightly around his middle.

"Why does he want to kill me?" Harry asked in a muffled voice.

"I believe if he wanted to kill you, he would have already. At this point it is clear that his intention is more bent on terrorizing than actual harm."

"That doesn't make it any better," Harry said as his father ran his fingers through his hair, still holding him tight.

"I know," he said. "Let's go back to the dungeons. There are wards up that no one can pass aside from you and I and the Headmaster."

As Harry was lead away past the Headmaster, who still looked sad, he asked about Ron and Hermione and his father told him that the common rooms had all been warded as well, and Harry allowed himself to feel at peace momentarily, until they exited the attic and were once again open for any attack that might come out of thin air.